#he stopped being allowed to see his dad at around 4 because he was just too much of a danger and his mom basically dissapeared off the face

[everyothermouse]

I'll borrow chords and play along until they shine They're still not mine (still not mine, still not mine, still not mine) Breathing all these postcards in until they land Still second-hand

Something about being an outsider in the culture of your ethnicity bcus u didn’t have the chance to be raised under it

[sukunas-wife]

i just wanna start and say that i luvvv ur blog and the dad sukuna fics are giving me life (🙏🏾). plsss could i ask 4 a scenario of yuuji being a menace 4 once. like 1 of the things he and sukuna can agree on is that no one touches or speaks 2 momma without permission, but a new servant doesn't know that?

🤔 I see what’s going on you want Yuji to bite people well he NOT KINDA BRAT, he latches on and shakes his head like a feral dog 😭😭 grrr

Idk what I was doing and where my plot came from I think I just pulled it out the air 😭

“Lady Y/n!” You turned looking over at the eunuch who had been persistently following you all week. The poor young man according to the servants and your hand maids had grown “quite fond” of you. You looked over at Yuji, he had long run into the garden, sighing when your hand maids were stuck between going after Yuji or staying by your side. You waved them off when the eunuch got closer, “Ah, feels like I’ve been seeing you a lot lately. Especially outside the Palace walls.” You looked past him and he smiled, eyes becoming lidded. Silence filled the space and you gave him a sympathetic smile, “Did you need something or did you just run all this way to greet me Kamo?” You risked your arms into your sleeves eyeing the way he fidgeted with his hands. “I guess I came here just to greet you Lady Y/n..” he looked away, the blush on his cheeks was proof enough your ladies in waiting were right… Before you could dismiss him he spoke up with a hopeful look, “would you mind if I stood by your side for today Lady Y/n?” As much as you hated the idea of letting someone who’s not your husband or son be by your side all day, you had to think about it. You should say no because it would look bad if anyone were to notice him constantly at your side. Second, you don’t want to make a bad impression on Sukuna, he was your husband and you didn’t want to make him believe the rumours running around his own Palace.

“I appreciate your eagerness but the answer is no. I’m spending today with Yuji and I’m not allowing anything to take away from his time.” You dismissed him with a wave and he still smiled, “It’s alright, thank you Lady y/n. Maybe I can join you for the next time you feel like taking a walk in the garden.” You had already turned away but he held out hope, “Thank you for the offer Kamo but you really should get back to work.” You look over your shoulder at him with a faint smile, he nodded and ran off back to place and into the Curses den. The poor kid didn’t see Lord Sukuna lurking about watching the entire scene unfold. Sukun watched as you smiled over your shoulder in his general direction making his chest swell with pride, he knew he didn’t have to worry about you. It was that fool of a eunuch who would need to be taught his place.

————-

Yuji was by your side pulling your sleeve’s, “cmmooonnn mooomm Wanna goooooo” he ended up falling and lying on the floor looking up at you. He was spread out and he huffed. “I don’t want that eunuch to come he talks too mucchhhaaaahhh” his whine turned into a scream while he shook his head back and forth on the ground, “Yuji baby get up your gonna dirty.” You tried to help him up and he just laid limp in your hold, “Are we leaving now?”

“Yes we can go before Kamo shows up if you really don’t like him THAT much.” Yuji laid there while you tried to stand him up before he got “Mkay let’s go.” Yuji took your hand guiding you to the door and right when he opened it there was the voice that made him squint over his shoulder, “NO! GO AWAY KAMO!” You were amused how Yuji stuck his tongue out at the Eunuch while trying to drag you through the door into the garden again. You didn’t fight him and let him drag you doing your best to keep up. When he finally stopped, Yuji looked around, even jumping to look over a bush, “daddy doesn’t like him, he says he tried to talk to you toooo much.” He was waving his hands around exaggerating his point, “he said next time he tried to get close to take you away or fight him!” You watch as Yuji looked up at you holding little fists, his little round face was full of determination. You could help but kneel and place your hand on his head running it over the side of his face cupping his cheek. “Yuji you don’t have to worry about fighting that poor eunuch, there is nothing I would choose over you or Ryomen.”

He shook his head back and forth vigorously “nuh uh! Daddy said you’d say that and I shouldn’t listen!” You hugged Yuji, confusing him “awww my little Yu.” He leaned against you taking in your hug. “What else did daddy tell you, hm?”

———

There you sat with your husband, dressed up in vibrant Junihitoe with over 20 layers. Sukuna wore his usual attire, you were holding onto one of his arms listening to him talk about how Yuji had done well in his own training and along those lines. It was well into spring when the days were getting hotter and becoming longer summer days. Sukuna watched how you’d fan yourself closing your eyes for a brief moment of relief before leaning your head on his arm. He could feel your heat and there was no doubt in his mind it was all those layers in your silly little robes. He had a great idea, slowly he led you inside where you found relief out of the sun but those layers were still clinging to you in uncomfortable ways. When you were going to pull away Sukuna pulled you back into his side leaning down to whisper into your ear, “Now let’s get you out of those robes, your skins burning like all those nights I spent memorising every curve of your body.” The flush on your face flared up when you held onto him tighter, burying your face in his arm, “Ryomen!” You tried to scold him while he led you to the large bathing room. He took you in kissing you once the door was closed, he spared no time in stripping himself taking a step into the pool of cold water. A second step his hands were on your waist while you held his face kissing him, he mumbled against your lips “Let’s get these off of you.” He pressed his lips against your neck grazing you with his teeth, you tried to hold in your giggles when his hands opened your robes, letting his hands run over your sides while he bit into your skin sucking and marking you with a bright red mark, grazing his teeth over your skin when he made it to your chest. Your laughed and playful whispers could be heard outside the room and it left nothing to the imagination of what could be happening. This was a sign most servants took as “Don’t interrupt Lord Sukuna and Lady Y/n.” All except for one who walked in immediately after knocking. Kamo.. he was damn lucky Sukuna was just starting to slide your robes off your shoulders, you would’ve tried to push yourself away from Sukuna but he was your husband, what did you have to hide. Sukuna was too proud of his own physique to even think about maybe committing some form of decency. There you stood in his tight hold pulling you closer to the water, he rested his chin on your shoulder looking past you right at Kamo. He was smug about his situation, staring right at the eunuch, “What is it Kamo.” He couldn’t say anything, just staring at the both of you trying to think of something before Ryomen became annoyed, “I’ve killed better people for less,” he stood up, a set of arms still holding your waist and robes in place, there was no missing that Ryomen was in fact a man gifted not once but twice. He took that to his advantage when he noticed Kamo take a second look after he stepped from around you, “Speak now or lose your life, you better have a damn good reason for interrupting MY time with MY WIFE.” Just as Kamo was going to speak up, Yuji came running “Daddy DADDDY DADDY!” He stopped seeing his dad standing there in his full glory, “naked naked naked!” He closed his eyes when he pointed and laughed at his dad who just dead panned before turning to the eunuch, “Stop staring at my wife before you lose your living privileges and bring some towels.” He sent Kamo off and Yuji was still laughing behind his hand seeing his dad naked. You closed your robes, “Now that you're here Yuji you do need a bath.” You snatched him up before he could run out the door, Sukuna rolled his eyes “Great interrupted by the Eunuch and now that he’s gone you invite the brat.” Sukuna stared unamused as Yuji stripped jumping into the water, “‘m a fish”

———

It was a few days later when you were talking to one of your ladies in waiting and Yuji saw it. The way Kamo approached you reaching out to touch you to get your attention. He went running and screaming, the three of you turned to look at him, each of you confused until you noticed Yuji wasn’t running at you. He was running at Kamo who was about to touch you without your permission. It happens in slow motion how he jumped, little legs wrapping around his knee, the way his hands were clinging to the eunuch. He opened his mouth wide, threw his head back and made an exaggerated biting sound before he latched onto Kamo’s side. Your lady in waiting was shocked and you were just as speechless watching the eunuch try to pull Yuji off only for him to bite harder. Through the yells and little growls you could hear “don toufch mhh mhmmy” and he went back to shaking his head left and right.

Finally you came to your senses and tried to help take Yuji off of him, just as you took hold of Yuji Kamo winced and managed to hit you. Yuji let go and gasped very dramatically, he slipped out of your hands when your lady in waiting ran over to you to see if you were okay. You stood up holding your cheek staring at Kamo, as much as you’d like to take blame for Yuji biting him he shouldn’t have been trying to touch in the first place. You saw Yuji with his fists up “YOU HIT MY MOMMY” he swung hitting Kamo right in his manhood.

It didn’t take long for the word to spread, before you knew it Sukuna had you sitting in your seperate room. Yuji was going to follow his dad out of the room until he gave him a silent look, making him turn around and run back to you. He stood in front of you laying his chest and arms on your lap looking up at you with a small smile, “you're so pretty mommy.”

You laughed at his words shaking your head with a smile, “Aw my little prince Yuji here to make me feel better hm?” He stretched his arms up so you’d pull him into your lap. You did and he smiled at his reflection, you were sitting in front of the vanity in your room. He pouted looking up at you, “you okay?” He started to bite his finger when you looked down at him with teary eyes, you couldn’t help but feel like it was your fault in some way. “Yeah it’s just been a long day Yu.”

He hummed, swinging his legs and falling limp in your arms, “daddy said he’s gonna fix him..” you were confused there was no doubt in your mind Ryomen would kill the man on sight once he faced him.

Time passed to the point that both of you got bored of waiting and ended up on the bed listening to Yuji ramble about how he was so cool and how could beat Sukuna in a fight. One day he was gonna have his own big temple and you could live with him because there wouldn’t be nasty old eunuchs running around.

“Hey brat, that's my wife, she's not going with you to your house or anywhere at all.” Yuji was quick to jump up and run over when you slowly sat up on the bed, “Dad!” Sukuna grabbed him by the back of his shirt pulling him up and onto his shoulder giving him a little bag, Yuji opened it, looked in and closed it throwing it on the floor making a loud “eeeewww”

Sukuna looked at you, you looked back at him, he didn’t seem too happy. He walked over to you bringing his hand up, you didn’t look away when he took your face in his hand shaking his head.

“I’m alright Ryo…” his thumb rubbed your cheek, “He’s not.” Yuji shivered, leaning over on his dads head to tell you “Look in the bag.”

Sukuna side eyed Yuji who looked away, “what’s in the- the balls he had that made him think he could lift his hand.”

“But he’s a- he wasn’t, he became a eunuch a few hours ago and now he is gone.” Sukuna’s face was smug when he flipped Yuji off his shoulder and onto your bed, “Now there’s something I want to finish that he interrupted.” He nodded at the door and you felt your face heat up, “y-yeah.” Yuji was busy laughing and rolling over in your bed to notice his parents little game of bedroom eyes.😭

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[moo-blogging]

No thoughts tonight, just dad Levi in my head.

You always wanted a spring baby. You thought it represents hope, new beginnings, and endless possibilities. But your baby came at mid autumn when the leaves were falling and the sky gray. It wasn't that you would love your baby any less just because of the season the baby was born in, but you had concerns about your baby surviving the winter.

Living in the outskirts of town closer to the military camp allowed Levi to sleep at home whenever he wasn't on night duty. However this had reduced the convenience of reaching for a doctor. Levi knew about your concerns and he assured you that there was less titan attacks in the winter and he would arrange with Erwin to have lesser night duties.

Before the winter came, you and Levi had been thrifting for warmer clothes, but it was hard to get infant sizes. You learnt to strap your baby onto your chest to keep warm together. Levi had the cadets carried more logs to the cabin. You sewn clothes together to make thicker blankets, socks and mittens.

When the cold harsh winter hit, you dressed your baby in 3-4 layers of clothings you sewn. You yourself was wearing 2-3 layers too. The jacket Levi took from the military was useful when you had to go out to fetch more logs, but it was too hot in the house. Seeing your baby's cheeks red with warmth and love, your worries reduced. Your baby was the exact replica of Levi. With his hair was dark as the night, his eyes gleaming silverish blue and his pointed little nose, you loved your baby so so much you felt like your heart could explode with love.

One evening without night duty, Levi came home to you. He gave you a quick kiss, played with baby for a moment, and hit the shower. Levi always showered before you during winter to make the bathroom warm. After a hot shower and feeling warm, you walked into the living room finding Levi alone and the crate empty.

"Levi? Where's baby?" You asked, a wet towel draped on your shoulders. Turning around, you saw a big bulge under Levi's oversized hoodie. Levi insisted on buying this oversized hoodie at the bazaar. You knew Levi did not wear oversized clothing but he refused to disclose what it was for. And now you knew.

You mirrored Levi's grin as you approached him. Levi was bouncing on his toes. He leaned in toward you, pulling at his collar. You saw your baby's sparkling huge eyes staring at you. A grin started to spread across his face when he saw yours. A sharp baby-ish giggled echoed through the room. Levi had strapped baby onto him and pulled the hoodie over them. Baby was safe and warm with Levi, grinning as he ate his little fist.

Levi started to hum and rub the baby's back, lifting his eyebrows and blinking his eyes to tease baby. Baby laughed again. You kissed the side of Levi's lips. You really loved watching Levi being a dad. He was never shy or embarrassed to learn about being a supporting partner during the pregnancy. You tried to stop him for strapping the baby onto him after his long day at work. You knew how it hurts your back, but Levi insisted because "you have been carrying baby for 9 months, i want to share this with you too".

With Levi sitting on the sofa and you on the carpeted floor, Levi was drying your hair with a towel by the fireplace. The cabin smelt like bonfire, tea and baby powder. Snow was falling quietly outside, and the night was dark.

But your cabin was warm and cozy. Your husband's fingers massaging your scalp as he dried your hair. Your baby babbling happily and Levi replying with "oh really?" "you like to eat your fingers, huh?" "you think so?".

Oh, you thought, what a wonderful life this is.

[runariya]

The Auction (JJK) • Chapter 6 FINALE

pairing: wolf hybrid!Jungkook x cat hybrid!female reader genre: mafia!AU, hybrid!AU, dystopian!AU, S2L, dark romance, slow burn, angst rating: 18+, MDNI warnings: foul language, angst, being held hostage, obsession and possessiveness, fluff, smoking, OC's parents are still shit, scorpion hybrid (sorry angel, I had it already written lol), multiple murder, mentions of bodies, semi-graphic description of beating someone to death, blood, wounds, explicit sexual content, smut, oral (m. receiving), JK whines a lot but not sub, unprotected sex, marking and bonding, knotting, love confessions <3, lmk if I forgot smth word count: ~ 3K

a/n: This work is purely fictional. All characters and events are entirely imaginary and do not reflect reality. No translations are allowed without permission. Thank you for understanding! 💕

1 • 2 • 3 • 4 • 5 • masterlist

Three things.

There are three things you realised while living with Jungkook.

One—you’ll never, ever, under any circumstances, humiliate him again in public. Not because he doesn’t deserve it sometimes, but because it’s the dumbest and most dangerous thing you could do. Not just for him and his whole organisation, but for you too—it puts your life at risk.

Sure, him killing someone in that nightclub didn’t change much, but his friends seeing him like that, howling, has strained their relationship, and you’re not sure how he’s managed to keep them in line since. You know killing them off wouldn’t be an option to regain his control though. 

Of course, you’d apologised to Jungkook more than once, and he brushed it off like it was nothing, like even though you’d hurt him, he’d still forgive you.

Which brings you to the second thing you realised.

As much of a lunatic as Jungkook is, he’s kind and loving to you. After the branding—that was the first and last time he hurt you physically—he’s never laid a hand on you again or said anything cruel. You still don’t fully understand why he feels the way he does about you, but you’ll get the answers out of him soon, once he emerges from his study to join you by the fireplace.

Just yesterday, you’d asked Jungkook if you could call your parents. To your surprise, he let you without much thought, but stayed right beside you, insisting the phone be on speaker so he could hear.

The call didn’t last long, no. After a few rings, your dad picked up, and you couldn’t help but cry and call his name, only for him to hang up straightaway. You tried again, but no one answered after that.

That’s when you knew Jungkook had been telling the truth all along. And that’s when you finally saw him for who he really is: someone whose only goal in life is to keep you safe and loved, even if it started in a way you hated.

“Don’t think about it,” Jungkook says, sitting down next to you, his arm draped behind you on the headrest as he kisses your temple.

“About you being whipped for me?”

“That you can think about.”

He pulls you close, and you lean into him, soaking in his warmth and scent. The penthouse is still too cold for you; you only feel warm when you’re near Jungkook or the fireplace. One day, you’ll have to ask him to turn up the heating a bit more.

“Jungkook?”

“Hm?”

“Why me?”

There’s an ease in the way you both speak, in how comfortable he seems, and you wonder if it’ll last. Jungkook knows exactly what you’re asking, like he always does, so there’s no hesitation in his voice as his hand moves absentmindedly, tracing soothing circles on your shoulder.

“You don’t remember, do you?”

“Remember what?”

Jungkook stares off, a nostalgic smile tugging at his lips as he lights a cigar.

“Beomseok’s little shop around that dodgy corner. You were sixteen, I think. Always working, every shift it seemed, just to help your shitty family when you should’ve been enjoying life.”

You sit up, startled that he knows about your past.

“One of the many times I stopped by, you cleared out the whole shelf because a bug got stuck in your fur or something.” He chuckles, as if picturing it. “And I helped you. Always did after that.”

“The scrawny boy in the black hoodie and face mask! That was you?”

“That was me.” He nods, locking eyes with you, his gaze full of adoration.

“You made my life so much better back then.” You smile, your hand moving up and down his thigh.

“Back then, I swore I wouldn’t drag you into my world, but I’d keep you safe. Neither worked out, clearly.”

“But I’m safe,” you cut in, unable to bear the sadness in his eyes.

“No, as long as you’re with me in this world, you’re not.”

“Jungkook, I am safe with you,” you insist, determined, because it’s true. You’ve never felt safer than when you’re with him. Not back then, and not now.

Jungkook just nods, as if he’s not entirely convinced but doesn’t want to argue. It’s enough for now, you reckon, and with a bit of courage, knowing you’ve never thanked him properly for all he did for you, you lean in just as he takes another puff of his cigar and kiss his cheek.

“Thanks for saving me, Jungkook.”

He smiles, pulls you against his chest, kisses the top of your head, and mumbles, “Anytime, love.”

You know Jungkook brought you catnip just yesterday when he came back from ‘work’. You also know it should be with your baking supplies, but there’s no trace of it now. You’ve been through every cabinet twice by this point, even pulled out all the tableware just to be sure. But nothing.

There’s no way you’re going out now to buy the ones you’ve been snacking on up until a few days ago, especially after learning from some TikTok that they’re unhealthy because of… well, you don’t even remember anymore. But you’ve looked up a recipe since, and you need to bake some asap before the withdrawal hits too hard.

Knowing Jungkook definitely knows where the catnip is, and that he’s currently two floors down—a floor he’s actually banned you from entering, though he did give you the passcode, your birthdate, in case of emergencies—you head straight for the lift, figuring this is the very definition of an emergency.

You’re shocked when you step out; the floor’s empty of furniture, the walls bare, like an unfinished building. Still, you make your way to the only visible door, soft grunts coming from behind it, and you reckon it’s just his gym.

You walk in without knocking—and freeze, eyes wide at the sight in front of you. It’s not a gym at all, but a floor dedicated to torture.

There are several dead, bloodied bodies off to the side, with Jimin standing nearby, his bored eyes fixed on the brutal scene unfolding before him.

A man’s tied to a chair, barely conscious, as Jungkook, his back to you, hammers down bloody fists over and over into the guy’s face.

It doesn’t take long for Jungkook to stop abruptly and turn, his eyes locking onto yours in shock, sensing your presence before he even hears you.

“Leave!”

But you can’t tear your gaze away from the scorpion hybrid slumped in the chair—the very man who sold you at the auction. Looking again at the bodies, you recognise each one of them now.

The one who kidnapped you and every single person you crossed paths with during your captivity.

“I said leave!” Jungkook barks again, but when you meet his eyes, it’s not anger you see—it’s worry.

You just shake your head, walking silently over to stand beside Jimin, who doesn’t dare say a word. Jungkook looks unsure, but when you give him a nod, something shifts in his expression, like a curtain falling over his very soul.

He turns back to his victim, fists resuming their precise rhythm, as if nothing had interrupted him in the first place.

You’d always thought watching Jungkook work would make you sick, would make you feel something. And while there’s still anger bubbling inside you at the sight of the men who wronged you, you don’t feel much of anything else. There’s not a single part of you that’s repulsed by the sight of death caused by Jungkook, not even at the blood or the life slowly draining from the man in front of you.

Jungkook’s assault isn’t anything dramatic, either—it’s like he’s training on a punching bag, nothing more. No show, no curses, no shouting—just the unrelenting, wet clap of fist meeting flesh.

With one final uppercut, it’s over. The sickening crack of the man’s neck rings out, and Jungkook stops, panting quietly, his body still as he stares at what he’s done—for you.

“Let’s go home, Jungkook,” you call softly.

“You *are* home!” he snaps.

“I am,” you reply, your voice and eyes loving as his gaze meets yours, finally registering your words.

Jungkook’s tense muscles relax at that, and with a single nod, he walks with you to the door, keeping a small distance as he instructs over his shoulder, “Take care of the rest.”

“Yes, boss.”

There’s nothing said on the way back to the penthouse, and you reckon Jungkook needs a minute to calm down, adrenaline still too prominent in his scent. His clothes are soaked in blood, the smell slightly bothering you now, but it’s the ticking of his jaw and the worry in his eyes that has you more concerned.

Sure, you can read him—his eyes and scent give him away without much thought—but you never fully know what’s going on inside. He’s the first to enter the bedroom, and before you’ve even had the chance to close the door, he’s already disappeared into the bathroom and locked the door behind him.

You leave him be for now, giving him space to literally wash away his sins before you need to talk, not about the catnip, but to finally tell him what he means to you, to thank him.

It doesn’t take long before Jungkook emerges from the bathroom, towel wrapped low around his hips, happy trail on display, and for a second, you lose track of what you wanted to say, though you quickly recover.

“Sit down,” you say, already perched on the bed.

He’s hesitant, you can see it in the way his eyes dart around, but he still obliges.

Again, he doesn’t sit right beside you, leaving a bit of space you can’t stand. So, you shuffle closer, taking his hands and inspecting the split knuckles. There aren’t many, and the few that are split are minor, probably because he’s used to this—knows how to throw a punch without hurting himself.

“Thank you, Jungkook.”

“It’s not enough.” He shakes his head.

“It is.”

“It’s not.”

You think for a moment, and then it hits you. “You are enough, Jungkook.”

His head snaps to you, searching your face for a lie that isn’t there.

“You are enough. This is enough. I want to stay. This is my home, and you’re right—I don’t hate you.”

Jungkook’s hand reaches for your face, cradling it softly, as if he needs to touch you to believe it’s real.

“I love you, Jungkook, and I’m sorry for being difficult.”

“You’re not, love, never were.”

There’s a moment for everything, and you reckon this is the moment you want to kiss him, to be kissed by him. You press your hands to his bare chest, leaning forward until your breaths mingle, barely any space left between your lips and his.

You see his eyelids flutter shut, and with that, you close the distance, capturing his soft upper lip. It feels like your life has finally clicked into place, like you’ve been waiting for this moment forever without knowing it. 

You straddle his lap as your tongue plays with his, not in a battle for dominance but as equals, moaning softly into the kiss like a song composed by only you. Occasionally, a whine escapes his throat, and you don’t mind in the slightest, knowing it’s just his genes, just as your purring is from yours.

“Please touch me, Jungkook.”

This time, he listens, his hands cupping your ass and giving it a firm squeeze, pushing your clothed cunt against his hard-on. You want him, want him to claim you, so you speed up the process of undressing, not only yourself but finally pulling off the towel around his waist while kneeling between his legs.

Looking up, your purring louder now, you meet his dilated eyes, seeing your reflection in his pupils. He wants you just as much as you want him, and the knowledge feels so damn satisfying, you can’t help but wrap your tiny hands around his thick cock.

Jerking him off is easy, his precum already slicking his shaft, making your strokes smooth.

“Yes, kitten,” Jungkook breathes, his eyes never leaving yours, too captivated by what you’re doing to close them.

The sight of him has you practically drooling, unable to swallow the saliva pooling in your mouth. It’s your cue to take him properly. You stick out your tongue, licking from his balls to the tip, then taking him all the way into your mouth until you can’t breathe anymore. Your purring gets louder from the taste of him, drawing an approving moan from his lips.

“Fuck, you’re so good to me. So fucking good, kitten.”

Spurred on by his words, you try sucking from your throat rather than your mouth, massaging his tight balls with the excess saliva as you gag slightly from his size. It’s exactly what he wants, what he needs, his abs clenching as his breathing becomes ragged in seconds. 

You feel invincible, like a goddess, taking him in like a champ, not stopping until he grabs your face and pulls you back, both hands cupping your cheeks.

“Enough,” he pants, his eyes burning into yours as he helps you up, too dazed to do it yourself.

Jungkook’s mouth is on yours in an instant when you fall onto the bed, not caring about his own taste as he devours you, his tongue tracing along your lips and neck. He pauses there, snapping out of his instincts for a second, as if he’s debating whether to mark you.

“Mark me,” you moan, your cunt grinding against his thigh, pulling his head closer by his hair.

Jungkook doesn’t respond with words. Instead, he kisses your neck, squeezing your tit, his fingers toying with your nipple.

You never tire of the sight of his back, the way his muscles flex with every movement of his head, while his touch sets every nerve ending on your body on fire.

“Let me love you right first,” he murmurs against your lips, lining up his cock with your soaked cunt and pushing inside as he kisses you.

The stretch and burn are familiar, but it’s different now, with him finally touching you, holding you. It’s not rushed or wild like it was when you fucked yourself on him before. It’s slow and loving, his thrusts deep until he’s buried fully inside you.

Jungkook doesn’t stop kissing you, doesn’t stop kneading your breasts as he picks up his pace, his cock sliding out just enough to keep you connected before thrusting back in, uniting your bodies over and over again.

You love this side of him, love every side of him, and it’s all you can manage to moan, his name like a prayer on your lips. Not knowing how long you’ll last, even though you never want it to stop, you grip his head, pushing him up slightly to meet your eyes.

His brows are furrowed, his rosey lips swollen and shiny, begging for more kisses, but you hold back for just a moment.

“Please mark me, Jungkook.”

“I won’t control you, kitten,” he pants, his thrusts not faltering.

“No, please bond with me.”

Jungkook almost collapses on top of you, his whine so loud it drowns out the wet sounds of his cock driving into you.

“You sure?”

“Yes,” you cry out as he hits just the right spot.

You expect him to go for it immediately, but instead, he kisses your neck again, taking his time, almost reverent in how he prepares to mark you.

He takes one last deep inhale of your scent before finally sinking his fangs into your neck, growling, “You’re mine.”

The added rush of arousal from his bite, combined with the way his hips move faster, has you seeing stars behind your eyelids. You hope Jungkook feels the same, wanting to share everything with him.

When he pulls back to admire the mark, he kisses you again, harder this time, the taste of your blood on his tongue not dampening the moment.

“Mark me too,” he moans against your lips, his sweat dripping down his perfect nose onto your face.

Your hand runs up his back, tangling in his hair as he exposes his neck for you, and you guide him closer to your mouth.

Taking a deep breath, his scent making you dizzier than ever, you sink your teeth into his neck—not because it’ll do anything permanent, just leaving small marks from your tiny canines—but it’s symbolic, and that’s all that matters for both of you.

“I love you,” he whines out, and it’s your bite that gives Jungkook the final push. His cock swells even more, his thrusts becoming irregular. “Where, love?”

“Inside!” You mewl, the added sensation of his cock growing inside you pushing you over the edge too, your legs wrapping tightly around his hips to keep him close.

“Fuck, ___, I love you so much,” Jungkook shudders, coming just as forcefully as he entered your life, nearly paralysing you with the sheer amount of cum filling you.

It’s the last push you need as your orgasm bursts with his, your cunt clenching around him like second nature. 

Jungkook starts to pull out, but you hold him in like a vice, wanting him to knot you and affirm again that this is final. That he is your finality.

There’s not much said but the soft love confessions whispered against your lips and skin, not much done but lying together, basking in the safety and love you’ve found in each other.

1 • 2 • 3 • 4 • 5 • masterlist

a/n 2: tysm for reading and being patient with updates 🥹 lmk what you think in any way you like! Character asks and drabble requests for this fic are still open 💕

Check out my other work here!

All Rights Reserved © @/runariya 2024

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[whatsk-poppinhomies]

Pairing : Dad!Lee Minho x F!Reader TW : none really ; reader isn't from Korea though ; 1 child ; fluff! ; Word Count : 1.2k Request : nope! A/N : still being extremely fluffy. Gonna call this the Snippets of Life mini series because I kind of want to do all the guys... I hope you are all still here. I missed you my amazing internet family!!

“You’re up late.” Minho commented as soon as he answered the facetime call from you, stifling his laughter when he saw you roll your eyes. “The little rascal hasn’t adjusted to the jet lag yet, has she?” He questioned when he heard the twinkling sound of his daughter laughing in the background. 

As much as he tried to pretend to the guys that he was enjoying the little bit of time that he had to hang out with them and fully throw himself into his work while you were out of the country visiting your family, he missed you and his daughter dearly. “It’s 4 in the morning… I haven’t gotten a wink of sleep yet.” You groaned, dropping your head into the pillow and letting out a loud sigh. “She’s been looking for you non stop though, I think she misses you.” 

Those words had Minhos heart swelling, and his fingers threatening to go online and buy the first ticket out of Korea so he could be there with you and his baby girl. “Where is she?” He asked, trying to look around the phone screen, as if moving his own head would give him a better view of the room you were in. 

“She’s currently glued to the television screen…” You said, and he could hear how tired you were and he wished that he could help you, but he felt quite useless as a father and a fiance from behind the screen. “I had to put on a playlist of all of your fancams, she’s been watching them all day.” 

He never would have thought that his daughter would miss him so much. From the moment she was born she was practically glued to your hip, but to hear that she missed him so much had his eyes glossing over with tears. He never thought he’d miss the two of you so much either. “Maybe I can talk to her… You can let her hold the phone while you get some rest?” He offered, and at this point you were willing to try anything. 

“Mimi honey…” You cooed, catching the attention of your daughter. “Dada is on the phone, you wanna say hi?” You asked, and in an instant she was running over and climbing onto the bed, snatching your phone out of your hand and holding it up to her face. 

“Appa!” She cheered, her tiny toothed smile stretching across her face as she waved one of her hands to the screen. “You on tv too, look!” She said, turning the camera in the direction of the television screen so Minho could see.

“I know, but I want to see you right now, appa misses you a bunch.” He said softly, his heart clenching knowing that this was the only way he could see his daughter right now, that he wasn’t able to hold her or hug her. It was only a couple days, but times like this made it feel like forever. “You letting momma sleep?” He asked, and he watched her big brown eyes glance over at your passed out form before her head nodded the affirmative. 

“It night but my eyes not sleepy yet… I try to sleep, but my eyes say… they say wake up!” She explained and then sighed loudly, her tiny hand moving to her head as she shook it. “I not know what wrong… It crazy!” She continued, and Minho snorted softly, taking a silent moment to adore his daughter and the way she seemed just like you and just like him at the same time, picking up on both of your mannerisms so well in the short 4 years since she had been born. 

“It’s hard, isn’t it booboo? You don’t have to go to sleep yet… You can stay on the phone with appa, but you gotta let mommy sleep. She’s really tired.” Minho explained, and your daughters unsteady camera hand allowed him a quick glimpse of you, your lips turned up into a small smile as you dozed peacefully beside her. “Are you having fun?” 

The conversation continued on for another two hours, he even got to watch the sunrise through the window behind the bed as he sat on the phone. “I think I sleepy now…” She mumbled, her little lips forming a small o before turning to a pout. “But you not here… What about if I have a bad dream?” And now Minho was pouting once again, his bottom lip jutted out at the thought of not being able to chase away whatever monsters might try to scare his baby. 

“What if I sing for you? Will that help keep the bad dreams away?” He asked, his voice softer now as it got later in Korea. She nodded her head fast before getting comfortable against the pillows and pulling the blanket up around her. “You comfy?” He asked, and she gave him a thumbs up before setting the phone down beside her, the view of his daughter now replaced with a still image of the ceiling that was painted orange in the early light of morning. 

He sang softly, lullabies that he had heard you singing to her late at night when she was a newborn while rocking her back to sleep. Songs that he had come up with on the spot the moment he first held her in his arms. Lyrics of a love that only a father could know for his child. So many songs, but he didn’t mind, it felt like time had stood still as he listened to the soft breaths coming from his sleeping daughter beside the phone. 

“Good morning…” Came your voice, still groggy and laced with sleep. “Did she just now go to sleep?” You questioned, carefully grabbing the phone from beside your daughter's head and bringing into view your half awake face that Minho fell in love with the first time he had spent the night with you and only seemed to love even more each time he seen it. 

“Mmhm… And you should go back to sleep… You’ve only had 2 hours of rest, love. You need more.” He quietly proposed the idea, hoping that you’d agree to it. “I’m gonna go to sleep too… The bed is going to feel really empty without you in it though.” 

“Two more days and we’ll both be home…” You reminded him with a tired smile, brushing your fingers along the phone screen, wishing you were able to touch him. “I miss you so much…” You tiredly admitted, and Minho could only hum in agreement, knowing that if he opened his mouth to speak the words he’d get teared up again. 

“Get some sleep, love. Give my Mimi kisses from me… I’ll call you when I wake up… I love you.” After a short moment of silence, just the two of you staring longingly at each other through the phone screen, the call was ended. The screen went black, but he tapped it once more to see his lockscreen, an image of the three of you together. In two more days it would be like that again… But next time you leave the country to visit family, he’ll be sure to take a couple days off so he can go with you. 

Perm. Taglist : @whatudowhennooneseesyou @duchesskaren @mytherapisttoldmenotto @lovesunshinefelix @moon0fthenight @kurolils @maruskz @hello-2-u-from-me @mrswolfiechan @bunnychangbin @his-angell @if-spearb @yomomma104 @lanatheawesome @facelesswrittes @grannyindehouse @cutie-wooyo @felixmainacc @syuuji @jiisungllvr @yukichan67 @randomwimp @silentreadersthings @cutiespaghetti @furiousheartpoetry @its-hannjisung @lixpixstix @felixluvr915 @wordsofkpop @kayleigh-28 @szkstay @spnwinchestersd @fleatree @yehsehneeah @vampcharxter @iloveksmohsomuch @lvlnijiro @neteyamsmate4life

[therealbatgirlishere]

Trips in. (Tripin.) p1!

First fic! Kindness or constructive criticism is allowed. No req 🫶🏽

miles morales e-42 aged up! X bb mama reader aged up! miles age: 23 readers age: 22

context: you and Miles had broken up, due to a bad fight (petty argument) with a bad outcome, but anyways It’s been months and you’ve both pretty much moved on…right? Well, after you had finished getting dolled up to have a fun night with you and your girls, you had to drop your son off.. as you were planning to leave you might have been a bit.. interrupted?

You were chilling, just having finished your makeup and hair, you were going out with your girlfriends so you wanted to look nice as usual. Miles was comin in to take you n his kid,  sure. It’s a bit awks having to still communicate with the baby daddy after you both broke up but hey, at least your boy got a dad in his life. You were packing your sons things, placing clothes in his little bag, spare shoes a toothbrush and more, including a small treat for the road (a twix or stm Wtv u want.) after you had finished, you called your boy over. 

“Zion! ven aquí!” You shouted from upstairs, seconds later you heard the pitter patter of tiny feet coming up the stairs, your child then poking his head out of the door. 

“Mama?” Zion asked, in his cute lil voice you could see his little brown fro poking out as well as his eyes. You smiled, “Zion, you ready to see your papa?” You questioned, lips curling upwards. Zion gave a small nod. Cute. Your 4 year old son waddled his way over to you and gave you a hug, small arms wrapping around your knees and face dig into your legs. You patted your sons head.

 “Alright, I’ll put your bag on so you’re all ready.” You then picked up your son and settled him down on his comfy race car bed. He looked up at you, when you really looked at him, you could see miles, a resemblance between him and you in there…what were you just thinking? No. Stop thinking about that man. Focus. you were halfway through putting on his bag.

Knock knock knock

The sound echoed through the house, you had a feeling it was him, who am I kidding it was him. But, you had to make sure. 

“Zion,  stay here okay? I’ll call you down if papas here.” You said, holding his shoulders and being eye to eye with him before pecking his forehead quick and softly, then making your way downstairs and to the door, you were calm. Why wouldn’t you be? Face blank as you headed to the door.

Click.. creeeakkk

You opened the door, and there he was the 6’3 tall dark skinned male, mini Two-Strand twists,   the same blank expression as always. Wearing a white coloured wife beaters n a black zip up jacket with loose fit jeans, a silver chain and ring on his finger. 

(If ur wondering why he looks different it’s because he’s aged up, so ofc he would get taller and want to switch his hairstyle up etc. dw tho you can still imagine him looking the same ig.)

“…” he stared down at you,  hands in his pockets a lacklustre expression on his face as he then looks behind you. Searching for his son.

Where’s Zion at?” He asks, raising an eyebrow as he looks behind you still. Wow. Rude much? 

The man can’t even be bothered to say hi to the mother of his child.

“Well, Hi to you too. Miles.” You reply, giving him a sarcastic smile before rolling your eyes and turning your head back towards the house.

 “Zion! Your dads here!” You called him over, your son then poked his head out, a grin from ear to ear appeared as he then let out a small giggle. He then ran down the stairs, loud thumping being heard as he made his way down. 

“Ay.” You sucked your teeth in slight annoyance when you saw him running to fast down the stairs, almost tripping but saving himself. 

“Hijo, don’t run down the stairs you’ll fall.” You scolded him, putting a hand on his shoulder as he went to go hug your knees again, nodding a bit then looked up at his dad. 

“He’s jus a kid Chica.” Miles said, looking at you. What an ass. He still had that deadpan expression going on. You shook your head slightly and scowled.

“Just looking out for my son.” You replied, scowling removed as you looked back at him, crossing your arms. Jeez, did he have to be this annoying? You questioned in your head.

“You mean our, son.” He responded, then stared slightly more closely to your face, his eyebrows then knit together. “You wearin makeup? And what’s up with yo fit and hair?” He asked, staring you up and down as he pointed. Does he have to know every single little thing about you? 

This is p1 cause I can’t be bothered writing the rest 😜

[candycandy00]

The Doll House - A Choso x Reader Fanfic Part 3

When your younger sister is tricked into selling herself to the Doll House, you rush there to help her, only to find her being led away by her trainer, Choso. Moved by your desire to save your sister, he convinces the owner to let you take her place.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

Read Geto’s Part Here!

Read Toji’s Part Here!

Read Nanami’s Part Here!

Read Sukuna’s Part Here!

Read Gojo’s Part Here!

Note: Please remember that these stories don’t take place at the same time, or even one after the other! Consider each one its own timeline. So if you see Geto and Toji with other dolls, don’t be alarmed lol. I had to do it this way because if I don’t, by the time I get to the last trainer, there won’t be any other trainers left to interact with!

AU! Each trainer will get their own story! This is Choso’s. I’m keeping the tag list from previous parts. If you’d like to be tagged in future parts, let me know! You must be an adult to be tagged! Any feedback whatsoever is adored!

Smut. 18+. Fem Reader. FemDom. Sub Choso. Oral sex. Pegging. Strap ons. Divider by @benkeibear!

The next morning, Choso is up earlier than usual, excitedly moving around the room, making sure the place is neat with no “toys” in plain view. Now you know why he keeps them in a nondescript drawer, right below his sock drawer. 

You watch him with a smile on your face. You know exactly how he feels. Your own sister has visited you a couple of times, and both times it made you very happy. Family is such a precious thing. 

When ready, he leaves to go pick up his brother, and you look forward to a fun Sunday. 

Choso isn’t gone long. Yuji’s grandfather must not live too far away. The little boy runs in through the front door, beating Choso inside, looking perfectly at ease in what is essentially a brothel. He looks just like his picture, pink hair and big bright eyes. He stops right in front of you and grins as he asks, “Are you Choso’s new girlfriend?”

You grin back. “Yeah, sure. And you must be Yuji!”

“That’s me!”

Choso walks through the door, carrying a bag of, you assume, Yuji’s things. He’s beaming as he watches his little brother chat with you, asking your name and how long you’ve been living at the Doll House. Then Yuji smiles and says, “You’re really pretty!”

This kid! Such a charmer! “Thank you! You’re a very handsome young man yourself!”

He turns to Choso once he notices his big brother has caught up to him. “Is Megumi here?”

Choso shakes his head. “Not today. He only visits every now and then, remember?”

Yuji is quiet for a moment, as if thinking hard, then he suddenly says, “I’ll go ask Toji to go get him!” And then he runs toward the hallway. 

“Who’s Megumi?” you ask as the two of you follow him down the hall. 

“Toji’s son,” Choso replies. “He’s Yuji’s age, so they play together when they happen to be here at the same time.”

“I didn’t realize he’s a dad,” you say, thinking of the somewhat gruff but friendly older man. 

Yuji knocks on Toji’s door loudly, his small fist pounding the door until you hear it open from down the hall. Then you hear Toji’s voice. 

“Oh, hey Yuji. What do you need?”

You see Yuji lean to the side, as if looking around Toji, into the room. Then you hear his cute little voice say, “Why is that lady naked?”

“Ah, shit!” Toji blurts out, stepping quickly out into the hall, finally coming into your view as he slams his door shut behind him. “Uh, she’s gettin’ ready to take a bath.”

Yuji stares up at him, his face blank. “You said a bad word.”

Toji’s face seems to twitch slightly. “I’m a grownup. You’re allowed to say bad words when you’re a grownup.”

“Really?” Yuji asks, then looks down the hall toward you and Choso. “Is that true?”

Choso gives him an uneasy smile. “We’ll talk about that when you grow up.”

Toji leans against his door and crosses his arms. “So what do you need, kid?”

Yuji returns his attention to the huge trainer. “Can you go get Megumi? I wanna play with him.”

Toji scratches the back of his head. “Megumi’s with his uncle right now. I don’t even know what he’s up to today.”

“Please, Tojiiiii?” Yuji asks, looking up. “He’s my best friend!”

You get the impression that Yuji has a lot of “best friends” but you find this scene too cute to say anything. 

Toji sighs. “Alright. I’ll call and see if he wants to come over.”

“Thanks, Toji!” Yuji says, hugging the man’s thigh. 

Toji pats the boy’s head. “Yeah, yeah, you’re welcome.”

A little later, Toji leaves to get his son, and you, Choso, and Yuji grab a snack in the kitchen before sitting down in the welcome room to wait. 

Yuji is chatty, telling you about his classmates at school and the soccer team he plays on. 

“I’ve scored more goals than anybody else!” he exclaims proudly. 

“Really? That’s amazing!” you tell him.  

“Yuji is very good at sports,” Choso says. “He’s a lot more athletic than I ever was.”

You glance at Choso, thinking of his well sculpted body and the flexibility he’s shown during your sessions. “You’re pretty athletic though,” you say to him, “and you have a lot of stamina.”

Yuji perks up. “Have you guys been playing together?”

Both you and Choso blush and avert your eyes at the innocent question. “Uh, yeah, we play games sometimes,” you say.

“What kind of games?” Yuji asks. 

Choso looks at you awkwardly, opening his mouth to give some kind of answer, but at the same moment, you hear the front door swing open. Yuji, realizing his friend has most likely arrived, jumps up and runs to the lobby, completely forgetting his question. 

You and Choso both exhale, then glance at each other. He laughs, and so do you. “What were you going to tell him?” you ask. 

“I was going to say Twister,” he says with a grin. 

“Good idea.”

Just then Yuji appears in the welcome room again, smiling as he pulls along another little boy by the hand. This must be Toji’s son Megumi. He has dark messy hair and a somewhat sullen expression, but he’s making no attempt to pull his hand free. 

“And I brought a new game,” Yuji is saying as he walks toward the hallway, “Curse Fighters 3! It’s awesome! There’s a guy who can shoot his own blood across the screen! And another guy who doesn’t have special moves but he uses all kinds of cool weapons! And one guy fights while wearing a blindfold!”

As their voices fade down the hall, you hear Megumi say, “Who would fight while blindfolded? That’s dumb.”

Toji is standing in the welcome room, looking a little exasperated. Choso looks up at him and smiles apologetically. “Sorry for the inconvenience.”

Toji shrugs. “It’s fine. Megumi won’t admit it, but he loves playing with Yuji. I think your brother pulls him out of his shell.” Then Toji heads toward the hall. “I’ll go tell the others we’ve got kids here today.”

“Thanks,” Choso says. 

Whatever Toji told the other trainers must have worked. When you walk into the dining hall at lunch time, all the dolls you normally see are dressed in regular clothes, even Geto’s and Gojo’s. You don’t see the kids, and wonder if they’re still playing video games as you and Choso begin fixing your plates. Just as you’re about to ask him if you should go get them, the door leading to the kitchen bursts open and Gojo limps into the dining hall. 

Megumi is wrapped around one of Gojo’s legs, being dragged along by the tall trainer. Yuji is hanging from Gojo’s neck, and there’s an orange toy arrow stuck under Gojo’s arm. 

“Help! Help!” Gojo is shouting dramatically. “The little goblins are attacking!”

Everyone else watches the scene with amusement, aside from Sukuna who simply looks bored. Gojo drags himself to Geto’s table and practically throws himself across it. “Suguru! You have to help me!”

Geto gives him a wicked grin as he crosses his arms. “Help you? Who do you think told them your weakness?”

Gojo pulls himself up, Yuji still holding onto his neck, and looks at Geto with shock as he screams, “Traitor!”

Yuji hops down, pulling the toy arrow free. “Now we know you’re weak to arrows!” he yells as he pokes Gojo with the foam tip. 

Megumi disentangles himself and pulls another arrow out from behind him. It must have been stuck through the belt loop of his shorts. He wordlessly jabs the arrow against Gojo’s thigh. 

Gojo yelps and jerks away from them, finally collapsing onto the floor. Yuji hoists his arrow into the air and declares, “We did it! We defeated the white haired demon!”

Megumi doesn’t yell, but he does mimic Yuji’s motion, holding his own arrow up. Most of the people in the dining hall, including you and Choso, clap and laugh. 

Yuji bows as if he’s an actor on a stage, then he and Megumi are at the food table, already filling plates. Choso walks over and supervises them, making sure they don’t make a mess. 

Surprisingly, both boys elect to sit at Nanami’s table with him, chatting animatedly. Choso seems to notice your confusion. 

“They like to play with Gojo, but they like to talk to Nanami,” he says. 

Looking across the room, you can’t hear what’s being said, but the blonde trainer is looking at the kids with a warm expression while they seem to ramble on to him. 

“It’s nice that the other trainers are friendly to them,” you say. 

Choso’s smile is lovely. “I’m really thankful to them for being so kind to Yuji. I know he can be a bit… rambunctious. But no one complains.”

Your eyes shift to the table a few feet away with a lone occupant. Sukuna is eating his dinner like usual, taking no interest in the kids. 

“Even Sukuna?” 

Choso wears an uneasy expression. “Well, he doesn’t complain, but-“

“I don’t like Sukuna!” Yuji suddenly says beside you, seeming to appear at your table out of the blue. “He’s mean!”

You glance nervously at the tattooed trainer, knowing he’s close enough to hear. He looks at Yuji and gives the child a menacing grin. He doesn’t say a word, but from the look on his face, you can practically hear him saying, “The feeling’s mutual, brat!”

Yuji flinches, but doesn’t flee or back down. 

“How is he mean?” you ask, curious. 

Yuji frowns at the man before turning his attention back to you. “He says bad words all the time without apologizing. He won’t play with me or Megumi, and he never lets me meet his girlfriends!”

Before you can respond, Yuji is already heading back to Nanami’s table. Choso gives a somewhat apologetic wave to Sukuna, who shrugs. 

“He never complains, even though Yuji antagonizes him sometimes,” Choso tells you. “But he’s not friendly with him either. I can’t expect everyone to spoil Yuji, so I’m just glad Sukuna puts up with him.”

You relax slightly as the dining hall calms down. Both boys are eating beside Nanami and his doll, and all the other trainers are chatting and eating like normal people. Your phone vibrates in your pocket, and you pull it out to look at the screen. Your sister has sent you a message to let you know she finished all her paperwork for starting classes. You send her a happy, cheering emoji and smile as you put your phone away. 

************************

Hours later, after dinner, Choso and his doll are walking down the hall, toward the kitchen. Yuji and Megumi said they want a “snack for dessert”, so they ran ahead to pick something. 

As the two adults approach the door to the kitchen, his doll suddenly freezes and holds up a hand, silencing whatever Choso was saying. 

“Did Yuji just say he could climb to reach something?”

Choso is momentarily confused. He didn’t hear anything. But the doll dashes through the door at top speed, Choso following after her. 

As they burst into the kitchen, they see Yuji on top of the counter, in the process of falling backwards off it. Choso’s immediate reaction is to try to dive for him, but his doll is closer. She rushes forward and catches Yuji in her arms, the two of them falling to the floor. She lands on her ass, cradling Yuji, protecting him from the impact.  

She barely takes a moment to wince before she’s looking the child over. “Are you okay?”

Yuji looks stunned for a few seconds, but quickly recovers. “I’m fine!”

She sighs with relief, then her face becomes stern. “Don’t ever do that again! Climbing on the counters is dangerous. You could’ve been hurt!”

Yuji looks shocked. He’s not used to being scolded by anyone besides his grandpa. Choso is well aware that he’s way too soft on Yuji, and perhaps a strong scolding is good for him, especially in a case like this. 

“I’m sorry,” Yuji says, looking dejected as he climbs out of the doll’s lap. 

She gets to her feet and smiles down at him. “It’s okay. Just be careful from now on, okay? You scared me. Think about how sad your brother would be if you got hurt while visiting him.”

Yuji looks at Choso, his big eyes glossy. “Sorry, Choso!”

Choso walks over and rubs Yuji’s hair affectionately. “I’m not mad. I’m just relieved that you’re okay.”

“I told him not to,” Megumi says, his arms crossed. When he stands there like that, he looks just like his father. 

Yuji turns sharply to look at his friend, as if he’s been betrayed. 

Megumi’s slightly smug expression falters. “What? It’s the truth!”

Choso pats Yuji’s head again. “Don’t be mad at Megumi. It sounds like he was giving you good advice. You should listen to him. Now, what were you trying to reach?”

Yuji is such a sweet, bright young man. He doesn’t linger on negative feelings and never pouts. So he’s almost immediately back to normal, pointing to a box of chocolate snack cakes in the top cabinet. Apparently he’d seen Gojo get some out earlier, so he remembered where they were. 

Choso’s doll pulls the box down and gets out a small, individually wrapped cake for each of the boys. They take them, thank her, and then they both run back out of the kitchen and toward the empty room they’ve been using to play in. 

Once they’re gone, his doll turns to him. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have scolded Yuji. It wasn’t my place. I think my big sister instincts just kicked in when I heard him say he was going to climb.”

Choso gives her a warm smile. “No, you were right to say what you did. He can be a bit reckless at times, and it worries me. But I’m too easy on him to say anything. Thank you for catching him.”

She smiles back. “Anytime.”

Later that night, Toji drives both boys home. He’s done this a few times now, so he knows where Yuji lives, and it’s on his way. Choso thanks him when he returns. 

“No problem,” Toji replies. “My kid actually talks to me when your brother is around.”

After the other trainer goes to his room, Choso’s doll stands beside him. “Sounds like he and Megumi have a complicated relationship.”

“I suppose they do. I had a complicated relationship with my own father,” he says. 

“Same here. I guess that’s pretty common.”

He glances at her, wishing he knew more about her, wishing he knew everything about her. But she’ll be gone in a couple of weeks, and he’ll never see her again. She said she wanted them to be friends, but how would her new owner react to her remaining in contact with her trainer? It would be highly unprofessional on Choso’s part. 

Actually, he wishes she could just stay with him. 

***********************

Several days later, you walk into the welcome room to find Choso accepting a package from the delivery man, bowing slightly as he thanks the man. 

You look at the plain brown box in his hands, your heart beginning to race as you approach him. “Is that it?”

Choso notices you, blushes, but then grins. “It is. Want to open it now?”

“Definitely,” you say, and the two of you return to his room. 

In the early days of the training, Choso told you to order whatever you wanted to use in the training sessions and he would pay for it. You’ve ordered a few items but nothing really special. A few days ago you spotted this item, and after asking Choso if it’s something he’d be okay with using, you ordered it immediately. Since then, all you can think about is trying it out. 

Choso sits the box on the bed and gestures for you to go ahead and open it. You feel like a kid at Christmas as you tear the box open and remove your prize. 

It’s a bright red double-sided strap on. There’s an impressive silicone appendage sticking out from the front, and an equally impressive one sticking out from the inside of the strap, which is supposed to go inside you. 

When you first approached Choso about the idea of pegging him, you were a bit nervous. But he told you he enjoyed it under the right circumstances (plenty of lube and a careful partner). 

“I think it would be amazing with you,” he told you, his eyes shining with excitement. 

So after some prep work, you find yourself standing naked in his room, him on his knees in front of you, eating you out to get you slicked up. When you’re ready, he helps you pull the strap on up and into you. It’s a snug fit, and the thought that the same thing will be going inside Choso makes you clench. 

You stand with the bright red dildo hanging over Choso’s face, and he looks up at you expectantly. 

“Suck me off,” you tell him, and he begins licking the dildo, his tongue moving over it in such an erotic way, you imagine you can feel it. When he takes it into his mouth and moves his head back and forth, the motion causes the dildo inside you to move, stirring you up. You moan and grab his hair, guiding his head to a rhythm. 

It feels so good, and Choso looks so fucking hot on his knees, deep throating the dildo, you’re on the edge of cumming within minutes. But you hold back, and instead gently push him back and then lead him to the bed. 

He slips his black pants down his hips and steps out of them, along with his boxers. He’s already hard, a pink dusting on his cheeks as he climbs onto the mattress and gets into position, on his knees, facing the foot of the bed. You climb on behind him, a bottle of lube in your hand. 

Looking down at him, you find yourself mesmerized by how tight and smooth his ass is. He’s definitely put some work into getting such a fine, toned body. You rub and squeeze his ass for a moment before drizzling the lube liberally over him and the strap on. You rub it in, taking care to do it thoroughly. The last thing you want to do is hurt him. 

You spread his firm cheeks and press one finger into him, testing to be sure he’s nice and slippery. He seems to tense up slightly, and you grin as you give his ass a light, playful slap. “Are you ready?” you ask, removing your finger and watching his cute asshole clench the air. 

“Yes, Mistress,” he replies, eyes forward. There’s a bit of a crack in his voice that sends a shiver through you. 

Satisfied that you’re both prepared, you line the silicone dick up with Choso’s hole and slowly, carefully, ease it into him. He makes a small gasping sound as it goes further in, but otherwise remains calm and quiet until it’s all the way in. 

You experiment with a few shallow thrusts, enjoying the way your end feels inside you and the way Choso’s muscles ripple beneath you. Leaning forward, you put your mouth close to his ear and say, “How does it feel?”

“It feels good, Mistress,” he says, in that shuddering voice you love so much. 

Gradually, you begin thrusting deeper and harder, listening to his grunts and moans to determine whether it feels good or hurts. He agreed beforehand to let you know if he felt any discomfort, but you still want to take care with him. 

As your thrusts speed up, the dildo on your end moves back and forth, thrusting into you as well. You find yourself moaning along with Choso as you fuck him. 

You notice his body is quivering with pleasure, his strong arms trembling as they try to hold him up. His hair is loose, the way you like it, spilling over his face in sweaty strands. You reach around him and gently grip his hard, leaking cock. He moans as you begin stroking him, using the same rhythm as your thrusts. His cock feels lovely in your hand, all hot and slick and throbbing. Your thrusts become faster as chase your own pleasure, the silicone rod inside you making the perfect amount of friction with every move. 

“Mistress,” Choso’s strained voice says between groans, “m-may I cum? Please?”

The pulse of his cock is faster now, the appendage twitching in your grip. You stroke him a few moments longer, thrusting deeply into him, before finally moving your hand down to give his balls a squeeze. “Cum for me,” you whisper into his ear, pushing into him as far as possible. 

He moans loudly as he cums, shooting his load onto the sheets, his body shaking. Seeing and hearing it is enough to bring you to your own orgasm, and you keep thrusting as the pleasure overtakes you. 

You’re left panting, collapsed on top of Choso, the dildo slipping out of him and hanging between your bodies. When you have the strength, you draw back and begin unfastening the strap on. Choso turns around and helps you remove it. The inner dildo, that had been inside you, is sticky and glistening. Before you can reach for it, Choso holds it up to his mouth and begins licking it clean. 

Fuck, he’s amazing. How are you supposed to just move on to some other man after being with someone so perfect? No one is ever going to compare to him. Choso not only pleases you sexually, but he’s a kind and responsible man who makes your heart flutter. You’re starting to seriously dread the end of the training. If only you could just… stay here. 

*****************

The following evening, Choso is getting ready to take his nightly shower when he notices something amiss. His doll is looking at her phone, and instead of the usual bright smile she wears while texting her sister, her face is becoming increasingly distraught. 

She looks up at him, the phone now trembling in her hand. “I have to go home, right now,” she says, her voice shaky. “My sister is in trouble.”

Choso feels a spike of alarm. “What’s wrong?”

Her eyes are full of anger and fear as she says, “Yosaku broke into our house. He said if he can’t have her, no one can! She’s hiding in the bathroom!”

Tag List:

@suguguro @kaedear @onyxsphynx @poopoobuttsy @butterskyy @collectionofdolls @akaotv @witchbybirth @bloofinntoona @wasurenagusaa @tclbts @tojirin @lucyrocks86 @badbyeyoongi @97britt @aydene @lzaj19 @lyn-lotte @missthatgirl @peachedtv @ladytamayolover @nanam1nx @deegausserr @voids-universe @hinata7346 @maflorex @issracollen @xkittiecatx @ryumurin @emrys3456 @mysecretesc8pe @typicalloser3 @gabriiiiiiii @fvsm4x @tyunhyukamyloves @rottmntrulesall @jakeywon @better-imagination-9 @wealwayskeepfighting @denenene @tomura-complex @kuro-chi69 @hellsingalucard18

[tetsunabouquet]

Attack On Titan: Babydaddy Headcanons

A/N: This is just me thinking about how many they'd have, the gender and how they would raise them, etc.

Levi

-This man is a girl dad in the sense he only had one child and its a daughter. -It was a conscious decision. Whilst he loves you and would never deny you the joy of a child if you wanted to be a mom, he's also a man that lives a life of danger. Even if he's humanity's soldier, he has enough emotional awareness to know there are times where you or your daughter will worry and he wants to keep the number of people worried about him as low as possible. -He's not overprotective because she's an Ackerman but if someone even thinks of laying a hand on his daughter he'd chop their fingers off before they even reach her scalp. -As soon as she's old enough to fight, Levi will train her just like Kenny taught him because he knows the world is that cruel. However, any titan she interacts with until she's actually old enough to be a soldier will be none except for Hange's test subjects so she can see the danger she might choose with her own eyes to make an informed decision. -A secret reason he also shows her Hange's test subjects is that he wants to provide her with an example how not to interact with titans in Hange.

Eren

-Was a girl dad until his final kid popped out as a boy. -Armin pointed out the funny coincidence of his family unit being inverse to his own childhood; considering Grisha used to be a boy dad until adopting Mikasa. -Low-key looked good whenever his daughters would do his hair. Sometimes you wonder if looking like Carla is why Eren looks good with the sloppy feminine hairstyles. -He doesn't loves his son any less though. If anything, the way his daughters act towards him reminds him of how Mikasa used to treat him so whenever his son feels smothered, he understands his son and has his back. -In this scenario, his titan form obviously doesn't come with the 13 year curse limitations so he's somewhat worse as Levi when it comes to harming his kids. Because Eren would just squash them like bugs in his titan form.

Zeke

-Only becomes a father because he got drunk with you, who he already felt conflicted about loving. So like Levi, he makes the conscious decision to keep it at that one kid. -I do think Zeke would have a boy though. -He would play baseball with his son every day and try to be the father Ksaver was to him. -Zeke's plans to euthanize the Subjects of Ymir morphs into a plan to mutate all Subjects of Ymir into the same condition as the Ackerman clan and destroy the titan ability itself which would leave him as the final inheritor of the Beast Titan (speaking of which I might someday make a post with all the alternatives to the Rumbling that Isayama couldn't think of when he wrote himself into a corner) -Because of his negative experience with education and indoctrination, Zeke actually is an advocate for unschooling to a certain extent. He will teach his kid to read, write and basics but he's not fond of certain subjects like history because its in their world just filled with propoganda that Zeke is tired of.

Reiner

-Was very insecure about becoming a dad considering his own was happily a deadbeat but once he started having kids he couldn't stop at one so he had 4 kids. -Has two boys and two girls. -Because he was raised by a single mom, he works extra hard to be a good husband and father not just for the sake of the kids or his love for them. No, its also out of his devotion to you and not wanting you to know the hardships his mother faced in the slightest. -The sort of father who proudly displays the artwork of his children around his Vice Chief office at the Marleyan governmental building. -Teaches his sons to be better men and not make the mistakes he did as he teaches his daughters not to allow men to use them for their bodies in the way his mother was used and discarded. The way he goes about their gender roles and preparing them for life can be quite feminist for the time period AOT is set in but due to his upbringing and knowing so many powerful women, it shaped him quite a bit.

Armin

-A boy and a girl -Armin really wanted a mini you so when your first was a boy, he tried again and got what he wanted. -Not that he doesn't loves his son though, and thinks he's way cuter then he ever was as a child, which he reasons is your genetic makeup's doing. -Touch his children and he will find a way to poison you. He's way more clever and sneaky when it comes to taking revenge compared to Levi and Eren. -Similar to Reiner, he eats up anything his kids make and finds the most horrible drawings of a cat to be the best amazing artwork ever.

Erwin

-Just like Levi, being part of the scouts made him restrict himself to one child. -However, unlike Levi, he has a harder time as your child tempts him into wanting more of them as he loves seeing the union of yours and his features. -It's a boy -Hange often teases you and Erwin that he and Historia's daughter might become an item as they grew up together as babes of the Scouts regiment. -Has a habit of dropping asleep right next to his son after he's come home after a long day of titan slaying and reports about it.

[the-froschamethyst4]

Over the Net

𖤐Pairing: Single Father! König x Volleyball Coach! Reader

𖤐Pronouns: She/Her

𖤐Warnings: fluff, language, volleyball terminology, flirting, high school, badly translated German, a bit of an age gap, drinking,

𖤐Summary: König needed to pick up his daughter from Volleyball practice and he ends up meeting her coach for the first time

————

————

König sits in the parking lot waiting for his daughter to get done with Volleyball. Normally he would allow her to get a ride with one of her friends but after practice she had a physical therapy appointment.

She rolled her ankle, twisted her knee and ended up breaking her thumb all within a span of 4 weeks into the new season of Volleyball.

König was worried about Heidi. He told her to sit out for this season but nothing was going to stop her from playing and not only that her coach asked for her to be on the team.

He gets out of his car knowing they were going to be done soon. He stood in front of his car waiting, tapping his foot and then tapping his fingertips on his forearm.

“Come on, what’s going on?” König mumbled to himself. He was just being impatient because he’s never missed an appointment and he’s definitely not going to miss one now.

"Hey, you waiting as well?" Another father came up to König.

"Yeah, what's going on? Don't they usually finish as 5?"

"Yeah...I'm not sure either."

"THEY JUST SENT OUT THAT PRACTICE MAY BE A LITTLE BIT LONGER THAN EXPECTED!! MAYBE TILL 7?!" A mother yells from her car waving her phone.

"Oh okay, I'm going back home then," the father says getting back into his car. Not König.

"What," he groans. He needs to get Heidi so they could get her physical therapy done. He walks to the gym, seeing the one right door open and he could hear the sound of shoes squeaking on the gym floor.

He peaks his head into the building, he sees the girls running up and down the court, sweating, panting and tagging the next person to run up and down the court.

König could see Heidi, he could tell she was pushing herself to her limit, she sat on the gym floor, panting, wiping sweat from her forehead and taking a swig of her Gatorade.

"Heidi, is that your dad?" One girl bent down to Heidi's level pointing to the tall buff man walking in.

"What the hell is he doing here?" She mumbles before getting off the floor. "Dad-"

"Why's practice all of a sudden becoming longer? We have an appointment to get to, you know this."

"I can't control that, dad, it's up to my coach."

"Well where is he, I wanna talk to him," he says, looking around for an adult. He hears the whistle blow and all the girls stopped.

"TAKE A BREAK!!" A woman's voice called to her athletes. "Heidi, who's this?" She comes up to Heidi and her father.

"Coach Y/n, this is my father."

"Why don't you go get water, Heidi...can I help you?" She looks up at König.

"Well...I'm here to collect my daughter, she has an appointment for physical therapy-"

"I'm aware," she says, tapping her clipboard with her pen.

"You're aware of?"

"Her appointment, she told me..."

"And you made practice longer?" König was confused.

"I made practice longer for the girls who needed the help the most, Heidi says she would like to practice longer..."

"But...can I take her for today, and next practice she could stay the long time?"

"Sure, but she'll miss a new play we'll be going over."

"Why didn't you teach it during the first hour of practice?"

"Because Mr. King, the first hour we do review, second hour we do some scrimmaging, and third hour we go over new plays, this new longer hour, we are going to start doing some exercises and practice hits in between and then we start doing the new play for the court, now...can I do my job or are you going to tell my boss that I'm trying to make a better team?"

König was kind of shocked by Coach Y/n's sudden outburst. She seemed kind of frustrated as well, like ever since she made this longer practice, parents have been getting on her tail about it. EVEN SOME OF THE PARENTS ASKED FOR LONGER PRACTICE HOURS AND THEY STILL GET ON HER ASS ABOUT IT!

"I understand...completely I do...Heidi, come on, we need to get going, we can't be late..." König says as Heidi groans and Y/n just discreetly rolled her eyes.

----------

König sits in the waiting room of the Physical Therapist. He was mainly thinking about how that small woman has such a big temper. He's never really met anyone like that.

He leans back his head hitting against the wall behind him, his hand playing with the fluff of his daughters coat. Heidi soon comes walking out of the therapy room huffing and puffing taking her coat off König's lap.

"You ready?"

"Yep," she says, putting her coat on and König pats Heidi's head.

"What's up with that Coach of yours?"

"What do you mean?" She asked.

"She's got a temper on her."

"Only when she's frustrated," Heidi tells him. "And when we have games."

"I see," König says.

-----------

The Next Practice

Coach Y/n sits on the outside bleachers as the gym they usually use was being used by the male basketball team. So, they were booted to the outdoor court, where the girls had to wear their knee pads, just in case.

Y/n hates this court because half of the time most of the girls will scrap their knees and Y/n has asked the school so many times for a little sand pad for the girls, if they will have to practice outside then why can't they be more comfortable in sand and brace their falls versus the concrete.

"Careful!" Y/n yells as some of the girls landed on the concrete almost half her team had sat out because of their knees and or feet hurting.

Heidi groans as her hands were on her knees, she sat on because of her bad knee hurting her, so she barely practiced. Y/n then blew her whistle getting the girls to stop.

"We'll call it for today...I know you girls are hurting, I'm sorry about today," Y/n apologizes to the girls.

Heidi chugs some of her water and then waited for König. She texted him that practice ended early. She sits on the curb, she looks at the blacktop kicking some of the small rocks or throwing them.

Soon someone sat next to her, she looks at the person and it was Y/n. She gives Heidi a small smile and handed her a new water bottle, Y/n knows Heidi's water bottle was empty, she's just bored.

"Dad's late?" Y/n asked.

"Just a bit...he's getting off work now..." she says, twisting the cap of her water bottle taking a few swigs from it.

"I see..." Y/n says. "How's your knees?"

"Fine, my right one hurts," the one she twisted late season.

"I bet, I'll have to tell the principal that male basketball and girls volleyball need to figure out their practice times...this is the 2nd time they've done that...they have an outdoor court, I don't know why they can't use that one instead?"

"It's because the principal only cares about the male sports and what they need, even though this school is only popular for their female sport programs...didn't the girls basketball make it to finals and the male basketball team like lost almost every game they've played?" Heidi says.

"Agreed..." Y/n and Heidi could agree on so many things wrong with this school giving so much money to male sport programs but giving the girls a lower budget. It was stupid.

The girls had to come up with fundraisers to be able to get a new net, the old one had big holes from the net being old and being dry-rotted.

Heidi then saw her fathers car pull into the schools parking lot. Heidi grabbed her things and headed to her dads car, he steps out after she gets into the passenger side.

"Sorry, about that," he apologized to Y/n.

"It's okay...Mr. King, before you leave..." he turns back to her.

"Yeah?"

"I'm sorry, for being rude to you the other practice, I know you had an appointment to get your daughter to that day, I was going to release her to you, but I wanted her to get done with some exercises before I released her."

"I understand, I get it, really, coach-"

"Please, call me, Y/n..."

"Okay, see ya' later, Y/n." he gets into his car driving off.

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

A Week Later

Heidi's first game of the season, she was ready to hit the ball back over the net, it was coming right at her too. König watches his daughter and Y/n is making sure Heidi had enough time to get the ball back over the net before the timer runs out.

Soon Heidi hits it back over the net and another came running up from her side and spiking it, hitting the floor on the opponents side. Heidi's team wins and Y/n was excited that they won the first game.

The girls all ran off the court to hug Y/n and line up to shake hands with the other team. Heidi runs to her chair grabbing her water bottle. She heads to the locker room and some of the parents went to Y/n to thank her.

König stood in the back of the group of parents as Y/n talked to every parent. Once the parents left König walked to Y/n, hands in his hoodie pocket and he cleared his throat.

"You did good."

"I didn't do anything."

"You helped our girls...you did good," he tells her before leaving to go get Heidi.

"Mr. King."

"Yes?"

"This may be...highly inappropriate and I thought about getting it off my chest, and you are allow to deny me...would you like to get some drinks, one day?"

"Coach Y/n...are you asking me on a date?"

"Forget it."

"No, no, I'm joking, I'm joking...yeah...I'll get some drinks with you."

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

A Few Nights Later

König sits at the bar tapping his fingers on the bar counter and waiting for Y/n, she wasn't late or anything König was just early. 10 minutes early.

Probably to get a good spot for the both of them, this bar usually filled up quickly. Soon Y/n comes in and sits next to König. He turns and smiles at her.

"You look..."

"Dumb? I didn't know what to go with-"

"Wunderschön (Gorgeous)," he says.

"Danke (Thank you)." She says back.

König and Y/n just talked and drink the whole night. König then brought Y/n to his car. She came by UBER not knowing how much she would drink. She wasn't drunk nor tipsy, but König didn't want her in a car with a stranger after drinking.

He took her home. König held Y/n to his side as they entered König's domain, they laughed as they removed their shoes at the front door and once they walked in Heidi peaks over the couch.

"Dad!? Coach Y/n?!" Both adults stopped in their tracks looking at the Junior.

"Hey, kiddo, I thought you might have been asleep."

"What would you two have done if I was?" She asked.

König and Y/n looked at each other before laughing like to teenagers, Heidi rolled her eyes and scoffed before getting grossed out and leaving.

"You know what, I don't want to know..." she says as she goes up the stairs.

"So...since she's upstairs...do you wanna?" König raised his eyebrows at Y/n before she lightly pushed him away.

"You're so weird," she teased.

"I'm not weird, I'm fun, come on," König takes her hand and going to his bedroom, shutting the door behind them.

[cheriladycl01]

The Deeper Connection - Zhou Guanyu x ChildhoodBestfriend! Reader

Plot: You made friends with Zhou when he first came to the UK to pursue his driving career, and you were like two pee's in a pod. When he reaches F1 and life gets busy for the both of you he finds solitude in your childhood hideout.

A/N: I haven't been that active lately with finals coming up, however I'm still trying to post regularly!

You'd grown up in Sheffield all your life, you lived in a very nice home and came from a pretty well off family. With a dad in oversea real estate and your mum as a business owner and entrepreneur in the UK you wouldn't ever have to ask for anything twice.

The trouble was that you tried out so many hobbies and none of them really tended to stick.

Ballet when you were at three, didn't work with zero hand to eye coordination.

Horse-riding when you were five, didn't work after you got bored with how slowly you were being taught to ride.

Acting school when you were seven, didn't work when you were bullied for only being there because of mummy and daddies money. This completely made you loose your passion for it.

Swimming when you were eight, which you had to stop because of a medical condition with the cold water in the winters and your body temperature not mixing well.

Space camp when you were nine, didn't work because you were bored where you already knew everything they talked to you about because it was a special interest of yours.

Pottery when you were ten, whenever something broke you got really disappointed and sad with yourself and eventually it became something you only did every now and then to avoid burnout.

Gymnastics when you were eleven, didn't work after getting bored within the first weeks and it taking up too much time.

You were 12 when you met Zhou Guanyu, he moved into a house down your road in the gated woodland community of large and wealthy farm homes and mansions.

You guys became close almost straight away, you'd spend every night in the treehouse that his dad built him when they first moved in. But he wasn't always around, some weekends you'd knock on his door and no-one but the maid would answer explaining that the family weren't around.

She'd let you into the house, where you'd wait for him in either his bedroom or out in the treehouse. Sometimes he wouldn't come back until 10pm, and you'd be curled up on his beanbag in his room, asleep and his parents would have to call yours suggesting yet another sleepover.

After 3 years of knowing him, you found out where he'd been going and why he was home schooled just like you. He would kart, but now he'd got into Italian Formula 4 and he wouldn't be home as much.

You'd cried begging him not to go, Zhou really was your only friend and even though it had only been three years of friendship you'd attached yourself to him insanely quickly.

Not that he minded of course.

Your managed to go see one race with him, it was in Monza and he'd won it all. And that weekend he asked you to be his girlfriend. You of course said yes, as a two giddy sixteen year olds and went on from there.

The distance got easier when he was in the European Formula 3 championship in 2016. You being 17 weren't actually allowed to make your own choices yet, but the minute you turned 18, 5 months after Zhou, you were following him around to each race.

At this stage taking a gap year before you were due to go to university was better for you, and Zhou. In 2018, he got the news he'd be going to Formula 2 for the 2019 and you'd been accepted to Oxford.

For that first year you made it work. You visited him at races when you had breaks from university and he would come stay with you in your small uni accommodation in the off season or when he had longer breaks into between races.

But when 2020 rolled around, and you were forced to be separated by the growth of COVID-19 your relationship fizzled out. You pushed and pushed trying to keep the sparks there but one day, Zhou phoned you explaining that he couldn't do it anymore.

You'd cried so much that day, and you'd never felt more alone. The only place you thought to go that was safe was the tree house, you could get there through the side gate and you knew Zhou's parents were in China on business only leaving the maid there.

So that's what you did, you laid there curled up in a blanket Zhou brought you, crying until it got darked and you started to scare yourself looking into the dark woods.

When you were younger and you thought you heard or saw something in the woods, Zhou would hold you close explaining to you it was just your imagination and you'd immediately feel a sense of calm wash over you.

You left the treehouse that night getting on the last train you could think off back to Oxford.

Zhou continued in F2 in 2021, but got progressively more busy when competing in a small stint of the Winter F3 Asian Championship, of course you kept up to date with him.

You loved the boy and you didn't ever think you'd stop.

When the announcement of his promotion into F1 happened you cried happy and sad tears. Happy he'd achieved his dream, but ultimately sad he was in the big leagues now and he would definitely have no time for you.

He had a phenomenal first year and you watched every single race, even getting up at absurd hours to watch him. You cheered him on all the time and would get anxious whenever you had to stop or DNF.

Silverstone with the Russell incident was the worst. You parents had to hold you tightly as you cried seeing just how bad the crash was. Seeing George run over to his flipped over car that he couldn't get out of and a red flag being called.

You ran out the house going straight to the treehouse. His parents watched as the 22 year old climbed up the old rickety ladder, bag in hand and red bloodshot eyes.

They knew you'd seen his crash and you wanted some space.

What did shock them was the fact that you consistently came back every night for a few weeks.

It was a warmer night and you still had your blanket but there wasn't a need for a hoodie when you first came out. You were just laying there on the wooden planks looking out of the little skylight in the breaking wooden roof at the stars.

"Hey" a voice says softly making you turn to the ladder.

"Zhou?!" you explain sitting up quickly looking at him. Not that you hadn't seen him on Instagram or in his post race interviews but he'd grown into his face. He was as handsome as ever.

"Mmmmm" he sighs, almost in a grunt sort of way. He comes next to you and lays down, not coming to close scared that you'll leave if he pushes to close.

"Your star is up there tonight" he says raising his hand and pointing to the brightest star between the tree line. He'd named it your star when you'd spend the first night out here.

"How's it been, travelling round the world?" you ask softly turning to look at him, laying on your side. He turns onto his as well to also look at you.

"Lonely" he whispers with a sigh, pushing some of you hair behind your ear making you hold you breath as his fingers brush along the side of you face and down to your lips before recoiling his hand back.

"But your so busy and round people all the time!" you argue confused as to why he would ever feel lonely.

"I think sometimes even though I'm surrounded by people, they aren't people that get me... you know?" he asks turning onto his back, looking up at the sky.

"I think i feel the opposite" you laugh.

"What do you mean?" he asks, his gaze not wavering from the sky.

"I feel like i have absolutely no-one around me, but everyone i do bump into can see right through me" you sigh, having struggled at work recently as a graduate and new employee, working from home.

"Seems like we both are out of our comfort zones then" he offers with a sigh.

"Mmmmm i did have my comfort zone at one point" you say, it came out pointedly which you didn't intend.

"Yeah?" he asks, looking over at you again.

"Yeah it was you. I don't think I've ever experienced a connection like I have... had with you" you sigh.

"Had, you don't feel that way anymore?" he asks with a sad frown, that makes a frown of you own appear.

"You broke up with me in one of the loneliest periods in my life, It's always just been you Zhou, I've never had anyone else and then you were just gone ... I- you broke me and took a part with you" you sniffle, not sure how else to describe the heartbreak you were feeling.

Some people had their heart broken, where it would splinter all over and someone would come along and patch it back up until it healed.

Some people had their heart broken, where it would completely shatter and all the pieces are spread out and someone has to come along and pick up all of those pieces and puzzle them back together.

Some people have their heart broken, where it again completely shatters but the culprit takes a piece of that heart with them so that if theirs a time when someone else does come around and fix it it's never fully fixed, beating but never full.

And Zhou had that piece of your heart and no-one had put back the remaining parts of your heart, you'd gradually started to do it yourself but it was proving to be a long process.

"I-" he starts but chokes on his words.

"I think, I'll always love you Zhou Guanyu..." you whisper sitting up, your hair loosely falling over your shoulder.

"I know I'll always love you. And I want to take back everything I did! I need you in my life!" he says looking over you, making you look down.

"You cant take it back Zhou..." you start before looking up seeing his teary expression. "But i think we could start again. I don't want my heart back, it's yours to take... all of it forever. Your only going to be it!" you smile, knowing this was your chance to have him back.

He was your soulmate you were sure of it.

He leans up and pulls you into a kiss.

"I promise from here on out, I'll never leave you again again!"

Taglist:

@littlesatanicassholebitch @hockey-racing-fubol @laura-naruto-fan1998 @22yuki @simxican @sinofwriting @lewisroscoelove @cmleitora @stupidandunnecessary @clayra-g @daemyratwst @honey-belden @moonypixel @lauralarsen @vader-is-hot @ironcowboycopnickel @itsjustkhaos @the-untamed-soul @beebo86 @happylittlereader @ziejustme @lou-larcher5 @thewulf @purplephantomwolf @chasing-liberosis @chillyleclerc @chanthereader @annoyingmoonballoon @summissss @evieepepi08 @havaneseoger08 @celesteblack08 @gulphulp @fandom1ruined2me @celebstories @starfusionsworld @jspitwall @sierruhh @georgeparisole @dakotatankbig @youcannotcancelquidditch @zzonsbeek @tallbrownhairsarcastic @mellowarcadefun @ourteenagetragedy @otako5811 @countingstacksandpanicattacks @peachiicherries @formulas-bitch @cherry-piee @hopexcroc @mirrorball-6 @spilled-coffee-cup @mehrmonga @bigsimperika @blueberry64857959 @eiraethh @lilypadlover @curseofhecate @alliwantisadonut @the-fem1n1ne-urge @21stcenturytaegi @dark-night-sky-99 @spideybv28 @i-wish-this-was-me @tallrock35 @butterfly-lover @barnestatic @landossainz @darleneslane @barcelonaloverf1life @r0nnsblog @ilove-tswizzle @kapsylia @laneyspaulding19 @lazybot @malynn @cassielikereading @viennakarma @teamnovalak @landosgirlxoxo @marie0v @jlb20416 @yourbane @teamnovalak @nikfigueiredo @fionaschicken @0picels0 @seomako @urdad-hot @formula1mount @tinydeskwriter @butterfly-lover @ironmaiden1313 @splaterparty0-0 @formula1mount @styl1shl1v

[blue-rose-soul]

For hazbin hotel au: what would happen she found out at first meeting with alastor and kept it a secret because she didn't know how to process it?

By 'she' I'm guessing you mean Charlie?

I don't think she'd end up keeping the secret for all that long, to be honest. We know how she feels about keeping secrets from loved ones, although she's not nearly as close with Alastor so it's somewhat excusable. I feel like Charlie would still believe she had an obligation to tell the truth though.

I'm also not sure what scenario would allow Charlie to know but not Alastor OR Lucifer. The reason I decided Lucifer was wasted when he hooked up with Nicaise is because Vivienne described Lucifer and Lilith as being deeply in love. Even if some things have changed, I don't think Lucifer would ever intentionally cheat on Lilith. Even if their relationship was an open one, I doubt Lucifer would have knowingly abandoned any kid of his.

So if Lucifer didn't know, I don't see how Charlie would.

Buuuuuuuuuuuut...

Let's say she does figure it out. Not right off the bat, but over time she pieces together some clues from things she's heard Alastor mention offhand and stories Lucifer told her when she was a bit younger, before they stopped talking regularly. She doesn't know what to say to Alastor, so she goes to Vaggie, who doesn't really know how to handle the situation either. But there's one guy who has to have answers, right?

Charlie ends up calling Lucifer earlier than in canon, inviting him to the hotel to talk about 'something important.' Sometime after episode 4 but before the months-long time skip between then and episode 5. Lucifer comes running over, eager to see Charlie for the first time in ages.

He meets Alastor... aaaaaand does NOT make a good first impression. You've seen Dad Beat Dad.

There's no Mimzy to break up the argument this time (she won't show up for another 4-5 months) so Charlie has to stop things before they escalate. Fortunately, reminding Lucifer that she had something important to talk to him about is enough to get him to drop his sniping match with Alastor.

Unfortunately, trying to extract the truth from Lucifer is like pulling a tooth. Charlie keeps trying to subtly poke and prod but Lucifer's only half-listening, distracted, or he gets wrapped up cooing over his 'little girl.' Vaggie's not around to provide backup, since Charlie wanted to speak with Lucifer alone.

Eventually Charlie gets fed up with Lucifer's rambling and snaps, "DAD! Did you cheat on Mom?"

It takes Lucifer a hot minute to process the question.

When he does he's shocked and hurt... and a little afraid.

"Why would you ask that?" he wonders, and Charlie walks him through her mental math. Once in a moment of drunken vulnerability, Alastor let slip that he was conceived at Mardi Gras in New Orleans, in the same year that Lucifer snuck to Earth. And that his father was never in the picture. Lucifer is embarrassed as he admits he doesn't remember the entirety of that night. But surely it's just a coincidence, right? Lots of kids were conceived that night, at that parade.

Charlie tells him that Alastor's mom apparently referred to his father as an 'angel' and suddenly Lucifer's not so sure.

They don't bring it up to Alastor yet. It's still not 100% certain, and Charlie doesn't want to drop that on Alastor's lap in case she turns out to be wrong. But she keeps wondering, picking out the little things she and Alastor and her father have in common. It's MADDENING. On top of which, now Charlie's daddy issues are exacerbated by the revelation that, whether or not Alastor actually is her brother, Lucifer might have strayed when he went up to Earth. She asks him to leave and Alastor's all too happy to sneer at Lucifer on the way out.

The next few months pass as they would have in canon, with Charlie mainly focusing on trying to redeem Angel Dust and Sir Pentious, BUT with one difference. She also spends her time trying to talk to Alastor more about his family and life on Earth. He's not entirely receptive to her questioning. Ultimately he'd rather just forget who he was as a human and embrace being the Radio Demon. But, from time to time, he feeds her tidbits of information that can't really be used against him. After all, if she feels like they're 'close' then he can use that to his advantage. Over time, though, Alastor starts doing his own math, and picks up some hints as to what Charlie's weird behavior is really about.

Lucifer, meanwhile, spends the time doing some digging and trying to figure out whatever became of Nicaise after Mardi Gras, 190x. His research pretty much confirms what he and Charlie had begun to suspect. One solace; it seems like Nicaise went up to Heaven. But Lucifer is devastated to learn that she left behind a 10-12 year old child when she did.

[miraclesnail]

kk, I'll just start posting the work here. I have about 41-ish chapters already written

Title: (still working on one), chapter 1

chapter: 2 3 4, 5, 6, 7 8,9,10,11,

When you think of Travis Stoll, what comes to mind?

Powerful? Important? A main character in the grand scheme of things?

No, right? 

Weak, insignificant, and a side character is more like it, right? 

That’s who he is. A minor character, someone who doesn’t get quests, whose contributions barely make a ripple, who barely did anything in both wars, and only remembered as that one guy who likes to prank. 

So why — why, why, why, why, why — is he being chased by a man in stupid black sweatpants and a stupid black turtleneck in a stupid black motorcycle helmet holding a stupid, blood-stained, 13 inch knife?

This is something Percy gets into. Or Nico. Or Jason.

But not him.

Never him. 

Travis leaps over rubble, feet catching on the granite, and tumbles forward. He curses loudly, but rights himself and continues running. He doesn’t dare look back (he heard the stories. You look back to see where the killer is and you end up tripping and dying and Travis very much would like to live), so he keeps his eyes trained up ahead to the not quite darkness, but close enough darkness that objects are just a dark fuzz. 

Rain is pouring thunderously outside, a drumming so loud it’s like a waterfall. The occasional lightning gives him a clear snapshot of his surroundings and those few milliseconds where he could see the rubble, he engraves in his mind. 

A fallen cabinet, a broken desk, shattered computers. He’s in an office. There’s a houseplant, a family portrait, cracked tile floors, a hole-ridden hand hanging over a toppled swivel chair— 

Nope! Nope, nope, nope, nope. He did not see that. That is not what he thinks it is. That has to be a doll or a mannequin. Something fake and plastic. Not real and made of flesh, because if it is then that means there’s something wrong! Something is killing people! (plague, monsters, aliens) And Travis don’t have time to think about that just yet. 

There’s a turn up ahead. Left? Right? Right is always right so right it is. 

He slows only a little bit, if only to make sure he doesn't crash into the wall, before running full speed again. He prays to his dad that there’s no rubble in his way. 

And like his prayer is answered, lightning flashes, thunder booms and Travis skids to a stop, sneakers barely gripping the wet tiles that otherwise would have sent him careening over the edge of the crumbled building wall. He clasps his shaking hands together and takes a deep breath, commanding his pounding heart to calm down, that no, you did not die. You almost died, but you didn’t. So stop beating so fast.  

He takes in the surroundings, noting the clouds first. They’re dark gray and expand as far as the broken, tilted buildings allow him to see. It blots out the sun and explains the darkness even though just a few minutes ago, it was as sunny as Camp Half Blood could be. His eyes lower to the horizon, to the rows of buildings, all with broken windows, missing sections of bodies, and most tilted too precariously to be considered stable. He lowers his eyes even further and gulps when he can't see the bottom. A heavy fog permeates a couple feet down that not even the heavy rain could dissipate. For all he knows, the fall could be 20 feet or 150 feet.

Is there a way to get to the floor below him? Maybe if he just clings to the wall and — nope, the moment his hand touches where the wall meets air, it crumbles. There’s no way he can descend to the floor below. 

This is a dead end. 

If he’s fast enough, maybe he can head the other way before the guy blocks him. He turns around, fumbling and tripping over his untied laces, but freezes. 

Someone is turning the corner. And the glint of that wicked knife in their hand tells him it’s not Chiron dressed as Santa Clause. 

Cheese sticks, he’s trapped. Maybe he could hide before the man sees him and wait till — the man turns to the aisle towards him and walks right in the middle towards him. 

Oh holy sandals. Travis takes a step back and his heel pushes the rubble off the ledge, a grim reminder that there’s no exit behind him. He glances behind him, a who-knows-how-high-drop into the abyss, then back to the front, a cynical man with a loose grip on his knife. 

Which is the better chance? Should he just jump? Does he even know if the man is dangerous? 

He has a knife and it’s stained with blood! Of course he’s dangerous! 

If Connor was here, he would know what to do. 

The man is drawing scarily close now, close enough for Travis to see the black, tight-fitting sport shirt with long sleeves and collar up to his chin. Close enough for him to see his belt ladles with all sorts of pointy objects. Close enough to see the brand of his black Adidas joggers. Close enough to see black, well-worn, hiking boots and definitely close enough to see the ocean blue of his eyes past the tinted shield of his motorcycle helmet.

They’re cold, terrifying cold. 

If Travis wasn’t so scared for his life, he would ask the man where he shops. He’s sure Nico would like to know. 

He glances over his shoulder to the abyss again and stiffens. He can’t survive a high fall. He’s not Percy or Jason. There’s no way he could buffer his fall either like how Nico does with the skeletons, but he’s a good talker. He’ll talk his way out of this like he always has with his pranks. So he snaps his eyes back forward and steels himself for the biggest debate of his life. 

“H-Hey!” 

AH NO his voice cracked! 

“Pal, buddy, amigo, friend, I don’t know if this is your idea of a joke or a prank or just a very elaborate plan to get me to pee my pants, but you did it! I’m terrified! So can you please stop?”

The man didn’t even falter, didn’t even miss a step. 

“Look, I applaud you. Your dedication to your role is amazing, like your costume is some A+ design.” 

Oh gods, he’s still coming. And he’s actually tightening his grip on his knife! 

Dad, Hermes, I’m begging you, if you really love me, then please bless me with some +1 charisma and speech skill right now. 

“Unless you really are here to kill me, to which I say, please don’t. I don’t even have a weapon to protect myself! That’s not fair, you know?! Don’t you care about making things fair?!” 

Crap. 

Nothing’s working. 

He’s going to have to fight his way out and Travis so does not want to do that. Not when he’s in this much of a disadvantage. 

But finally, finally, finally, the man stops walking towards him, only standing two arms length away. He raises his free hand and Travis jerks his body into a defensive position, but the rising hand only rubs the man’s neck. He raises his chin and talks, voice muffled through the helmet. “Are you done, Connor? I don’t have time for your jokes.” 

“I’m Travis.”

The response is automatic, years of being called the wrong name ingrained this reflex in him. It’s natural to him, something he doesn’t even think about.

The man falters and so did he. 

Most people have never heard their voice before, most probably can’t identify their voice. But Travis hears his voice every day and before he left for college, every second of his life. They all said he shares everything with Connor, even their voices are the same apparently. 

“You… have the same voice as me,” Travis says hesitantly. 

The man isn’t advancing, his wide eyes train on Travis. He could see shock, surprise in those eyes. Or maybe it’s mania. It’s hard to differentiate emotions when all you have is the eyes. He stares for a few more seconds, looking up and down his entire body although his stare linger most on his Camp Half Blood shirt. 

“You’re… not Connor?” he whispers.

There’s no mistaking it. That’s definitely his voice and there’s only one person Travis knows who shares the same voice as his. All tension, all fear and worry leaves his body and he sighs in relief. 

“Connor, this has got to be the least funniest prank you ever pulled. You really scared me!” The man — Connor — freezes at his words, but Travis doesn’t really pay much attention to that. More importantly, this is the last time he’s eating the last Goldfish crackers without buying a replacement pair. Lesson learned. A very hard lesson learned. 

Still though, isn’t this a bit too much? To go this far for some measly $3 snack that they can literally buy at any grocery store? Like, Travis knows Connor loves his snacks. But this is going way too far. He kicks the rubble which definitely seems real. 

“But I have to admit that the special effects are really cool. You went all out for this, huh? Who did you bribe to help you set this up? Hazel? Lou Ellen? Percy and Annabeth? This place is so realistic. You really outdid yourself. And your costume is so cool. Did you get it from Nico?” 

He walks in front of Connor with ease, but his grin falters. Something is off. Connor is backing away from him. Through the visor, he can see … trepidation? Confusion? Fear? But Connor fears nothing. 

“Connor?” Travis asks, worry creeping into his voice. He looks behind him. Maybe there’s a monster coming towards him. But there’s nothing outside other than the rain. “What’s wrong?”

Faster than a blink of an eye, Connor kicks Travis’s feet out from underneath him. There hadn’t even been time to react. Which is bizarre. Connor was never this fast. If anything he’s the faster one by a mere second or two.

Either way, Travis is falling backwards and he hits the ground hard on his back. And before he could process what the heck is happening, there’s a dagger in his face just inches from his eyes. That’s not celestial bronze, he thinks. 

The hand holding the dagger that’s looming dangerously over his face is shaking. Shaking rather badly actually. Like, shaking bad enough that it can drop. He wonders if he could ask Connor if he could just move that dagger out of the way a bit so it’s not over his eye in case it does slip. 

“What—” ‘Connor’ says in what is definitely Connor’s voice except it’s trembling even worse than the hand, “What game are you playing, Connor?” 

“...I’m Travis, not Connor,” he says meekly, still eyeing the dagger that’s now a bit closer than last time. Travis clenches the bracelet over his wrist. He can probably block it if need be. But this guy in front of him is… fast. A lot faster than any opponent he ever faced. What if he doesn’t? Gods, he hopes it doesn’t end up poking his eye out. Will can fix a lot of injuries including something as delicate an organ as the eye, but that doesn’t mean he wants to experience what a stab there feels like. 

Mr. Dark and Mysterious and maybe-not-Connor stays silent for a moment, hopefully not contemplating about poking his eye out. The face is entirely unreadable underneath that helmet. But after an eternity, the guy removes the dagger from his face and steps back. Travis gets to his feet uneasily and eyes the dagger still in the guy’s hand.

“So… are we—” Travis begins. 

But Mr. Helmet cuts him off sharply. “What were you doing before you got here?”

Before he got here in this weird, gray dystopia? He shrugs. “Nothing much. I was doing my usual morning jog around the camp perimeter.” 

Mr. Helmet’s hand squeezes the dagger. “Camp? As in Camp Half Blood?”

“The one and only,” Travis says with a smile and a finger gun. 

It did not lighten the mood like he hoped. 

“And Camp Half Blood is okay? It’s still standing? There’s people there? It’s not flooded at all?” 

Travis blinks at the weird barrage of questions. 

It makes no sense actually. Flooded? Still standing? Okay? At what point was Camp never okay? Sure it came close to being destroyed like a billion times, but it always pulled through with the power of teamwork and Percy Jackson. 

Mr. Helmet/Maybe-Connor must see the confusion in his eyes because he’s digging through a pouch on his belt. Travis stiffens and grabs his bracelet again at the sudden movement, but the guy just pulls out a large four leaf clover. 

With a flick of his finger, the clover twirls in a spiral down to the ground. The air ripples as it descends, shimmering and distorting the space. The gray boring disintegrating canvas that is the wall becomes a patch of beautiful healthy green grass and the familiar tree trunks bordering the camp’s main area and the forest. 

“This. You saw this and ran inside?” Mr Helmet says, pointing a gloved hand at the distortion in an disbelieving tone. It’s not said but Travis can practically hear the accusation. You saw a strange, portal-like thing and ran inside like a complete idiot without investigating it first?

He can just hear Annabeth’s sigh of immense disappointment. Which is really unfair. He would never do it on purpose. Like all things in his life, it was an accident. 

“To be fair,” he starts off because all situations need context, “I was in the zone and was trying to break my personal best.”

Mr. Maybe-Connor blinks at him and stays silent, as if waiting for more. 

So Travis provides some more context. “And I might have not been looking at where I was going.”

More silence.

And alright, more context. “I couldn’t sleep and running always helps me with my nerves.”

“So, you did run through. You came from the other side. Then… that means… are you really— ” 

The whistle of air.

Like an arrow piercing through the sky.

They both hear it at the same time. 

Travis takes a wild guess and steps back instinctively, turning his head towards the source. And so does Mr. Maybe-Connor, the same exact motion as him at the exact same time. 

A feathered arrow snags Mr. Maybe-Connor’s shoulder, the speed and force of it pushing him back.

Pushing him back into the portal with pretty grass and sunkissed trees. 

There’s only enough time for their eyes to meet before Mr. Helmet completely passes through the portal and the shimmering canvas disappears. The man is gone. Travis is all alone sans for the crunch, crunch of boots stepping on broken tile. 

He hears a click. That’s his only warning before another click and the whistle of air again. 

Travis ducks this time, the arrow zooming over his head. 

He doesn’t get time to think of the next step. A third arrow embeds itself into his khaki while he is still crouched and pins him to the tile. He yanks it out just in time to feel the cold press of metal against his crown. He freezes at the touch and it’s enough of a pause for the stranger to yank his arms behind his back and shoves his face into the dirty tile. A knee digs into his shoulder to keep him in place and the metal goes back to resting against his head. 

On one hand, this is a bad situation. He’s dead for sure. No way is he surviving an arrow to the head. On the other hand, holy cow. What amazing marksmanship! The best Travis has ever seen! It’s enough to rival a hunter of Artemis. Enough to rival even —

“That was surprisingly easy, Travis. The hell?” 

Travis’s thoughts grind to a halt. That voice.

“Who was that second person you were with?”

His blood runs cold. That voice. 

“And what are you wearing?”

That voice, it’s him. It’s definitely him. But it can’t be. He died years ago. There’s no way. He’s imagining it. He’s hallucinating. There’s no way it’s him. But curiosity is eating at him. He wants to look. There’s a voice in his head yelling at him to Don’t do it! Stop! You’re being reckless! You’re going to get yourself killed! 

But he has to know. He has to. 

So he looks, tilting his face just enough to peek over his shoulder. 

He looks past the metal arrow inches from his face.

Past the body of the handcrafted mahogany crossbow.

Past the sleeved arm holding the weapon.

To the scrunched up face that’s gut-piercingly familiar. 

Not much has changed at all. His hair is still the same shade of black. His eyes are still the same shade of brown. He’s still short. Still 4’6”.  He’s still scowling. His face is still scrunched up like he stared down the shaft of his arrow for too long. 

Michael.

Michael Yew. 

It’s the same. Everything about this Michael is the same as the Michael he knows, is exactly as he remembers before Michael had sacrificed himself on that bridge years ago. 

Almost the same. Nearly the same.

The only difference is that the Michael he knows preferred a traditional bow, not a crossbow.

And that Michael never —

Travis could hear his heart hammering in his chest as Michael’s knee — warm and solid and definitely real — grinds and pushes harder against his shoulder blade. 

That Michael never looked at him with such a cold and conflicted expression. 

xxxxx

The arrow hooks the threads of the fabric on his shoulder. Not enough to touch his skin and break the vow, but enough that the momentum pushes him backwards.

The preciseness of it all still amazes him even after all these years. Michael is simply incredible. Then it strikes him that the portal is behind him. That he’s going to fall through the portal.

[Ground your feet.]

He can’t. 

Twist, lunge, don’t fall in.

[I can’t.] 

Summon some — [There’s no time.]

[grab something.] Like what?

His eyes meet the boy’s with the painfully bright orange shirt and they’re wide, clueless. 

[Him. Grab him.]

He reaches out, praying, hoping that his fingers snag on his.

But it doesn’t. 

And he’s falling.

.

falling 

.

falling.

.

The ground comes faster than he expected as his back collides with dirt. He scrambles to his feet, maybe the portal is still there and he can hop through. But it’s gone. It’s gone. It’s gone. It’s gone. It’s gone. It’s— 

It’s dry. The air is dry. 

[It’s not raining.]

His breaths come faster and faster as he looks around him. 

Trees. Trees with leaves — actual green leaves — full and bustling and to the brim. 

His head tilts back and — something bright and painful blinds him and he hisses pulling his head back down. 

[The sun. That was the sun. And the sky, I can see the sky.]  

He stumbles forward on uneven legs. It’s too hot. It’s too warm. It’s suffocating. He rips the helmet off and tosses it aside. But it isn’t better. He can see more, hear more, smell more.  [The clouds, the wind, the birds, the chirping, the trees, the leaves, the soil] 

Someone’s breathing heavily and he spins around out of instinct, but only seeing more trees [pine trees, birch trees, willow trees]

It’s him. He’s breathing too loud and he stops gulping air, holding it in. And then letting it go. He can’t panic here. He needs to find a way back over. If Michael is there, then the others must surely be there too. He needs to get back now.

He fumbles with his thigh pouch [the ground, it’s so dry] his hands won’t stop shaking [The sky is so blue] he could see the inklings of the green clover among the black inside of his pouch [the sun feels so warm] and he grasps it in his gloved hand, pulling it out. 

Only for them to disintegrate into dust that the wind blows away. 

He stares at their remains, not comprehending, not understanding.

[Was that all of it?] That was all of it. 

[Then are we stuck here?] We’re stuck here. 

This is a dream. It has to be a dream. There’s no possible explanation.

His neck twinges, aches, burns and he rubs it. He digs his fingers in. He squeezes it until it hurts and the burning, screaming, aching dies down.

What… what should he do next? What is he supposed to do? [Let’s sit down and we can analyze the situation.]

He starts when a branch cracks behind him and before he could turn around, a man’s voice rings out,

“Travis! There you are!” 

A familiar voice. A not so familiar pitch. 

“Where have you been? We’ve been looking for you for over an hour.” 

A remnant of a memory from so long ago floats to the surface. 

“Come on, I have arts and crafts with your cabin. Tyson is stoked for it.” 

And he twirls around to see him. The one that haunts his dreams. That terrorizes his sleep and stalks his consciousness.  The one with black hair (caked with blood) that hangs over sea-green eyes (filled with bloodlust) and a grin (a glower) on his face with a 6 (6?) beaded necklace over a sickening bright, orange T-shirt.

Son of Poseidon, Perseus Jackson.

His blood freezes.

His heart stops. 

His throat closes. 

A hazy, belligerent red washes over him. 

I’m going to kill him. 

[Don’t. Don’t fight him. Not when we don’t know anything.] But he — 

[I know. But we need him and we can’t afford to lose another person.] But— 

[Don’t.] But—

“Travis? What’s the matter?” Perseus asks, his voice infuriatingly friendly, light-hearted.

Perseus takes one step towards him [don’t] and another and one more till he’s within arms reach.

[Don’t.]

[Stop it.]

[Just run away.]

[We need to figure out what’s happening.]

[Don’t do it. For gods’ sake, don’t—]

“Travis? You okay? You look like you’re out of it.” 

A hand touches his shoulder. 

He pulls the knife from his belt and lunges forward with every intention of stabbing Perseus’s face clean of skin, muscle, and bone. But his other hand grabs his wrist before he could get close.

[I said don’t!] 

Guilt roils in his gut but anger overrides that. 

Perseus leaps back a safe distance, yelling, “Hey! What are you doing?”

He shoots forward. The chest is just as good as the face. Probably more painful too. And the pain will last longer too. But his left ankle bumps into his right shin and he misses again. [Wait and listen to me for a second —]

“Travis! What the heck! What’s wrong? Hey!”

He doesn’t answer, to Perseus, to him. All that matters is getting his dagger into (unmarred?) flesh and twisting it free and thrusting it back in. Again and again and again. Till he’s dead as much as the others. 

And maybe Perseus sees that unreasonableness too. The son of Poseidon shoves him to the ground, turns tail, and runs. 

He follows, uncaring of anything else. 

“Crap, crap, crap!” 

He catches up in a minute, longer than he would have liked and only because he keeps tripping, but he manages to throw his dagger at the heel of Perseus’s foot so he’ll tumble to the ground. He’s on him the next second, pulling the flailing arm behind Perseus’s back and pushing the shoulder out of its joint. The hiss of pain that follows didn’t quench the red haze. He raises his knife. Perseus bucks and tries to throw him off and he nearly did, but he locks down more. A knife in the spine should stop his struggling. He tightens his hold on his handle, lift it higher and — 

someone rips it from his hand.

Another pulls him back by the shoulder till he’s off Perseus completely, pushing until he’s falling on his back. 

And a third is pinning his left arm down with a knee against his elbow and ordering the second person to get his right arm too.

He slips his dagger from behind his back and jabs the knife right above where the kneecap should be. He slices, digging the blade in and swiping out quickly. Blood splatters across his face and screams break out in multiple directions. One in pain. Several in terror. [Wait! That was a person you just stabbed! A real person! Not a zombie!] The knee retracts and he rolls out from under the restraint, spitting blood out of his mouth. 

Shit. Fuck. What did he do? 

[Are you done? Can we run away now and rethink?] Yeah. I’m sorry. I just— [It’s fine. It’s fine! Apologize later but right now, just get out of here.]

But a hand is already on his upper arm the next second. He grabs the owner’s arm and their ugly orange shirt, sweeps his leg out, and tugs down. The fourth person fell. 

But a fifth and sixth person already have hands on him and they shove his face into the dirt and pin his wrists behind his back. [This is bad.]

He struggles for all he’s worth, but there’s more hands and more force and more yelling. So he struggles harder. [This is so very bad.] 

“Shit. What the fuck is wrong with you, Travis!” 

He kicks a shin. [Should I—]

“Clarisse! Clarisse!! Oh my god. Oh my GOD!”

He bites a hand. [Do you want me to—]

“Get out of my way. I’m going to kick his teeth in!”

He headbutts someone in the balls. [I’m going to use—]

“Dude, calm down! Piper, charmspeak his ass or something!”

[Piper?] and he stops struggling. 

Hands are locking his wrists together. 

[Piper? But Piper—]

“Forget charmspeaking. Someone get Connor! Wait, I see him. Connor, get over here! Your brother lost his marbles.” 

“Travis.”

He raises his head an inch and stares at a monster. At the man. At the horse. A centaur. A familiar face. A face from before. What was his name? 

“Travis,” the man, horse, centaur begins with wary, uncertain eyes, “What is ailing you? Why are you attacking your fellow campers? Your friends?” 

What is his name? What is his name?

“Travis? Can you hear me?”

What was it? Chase? Chance? Camdyn? Caelan?  Charon? Chiron? 

“Do you understand what I’m asking, Travis? ”

Chiron. It was Chiron.

“Travis?”

Chiron Chiron Chiron Chiron Chiron. That’s Chiron. But Chiron abandoned them. Chiron sided with the gods and left them all. Chiron is dead so how, why, what?

“Tra… vis?”

And he traces the new voice to the source, eyes landing on the face he sees everyday. The ocean-blue eyes he has etched down to memory. The unruly, unbrushed brown hair he knows down to the last curl. But the orange shirt. The brown khakis. The 9 beaded necklace. That thin line of scarred tissue running across his left brow. The surprise, the worry, the unsureness, that’s all new. 

That isn’t his brother.

That can’t be his brother. 

The beads don’t match up. The scars don't add up. Something’s wrong. Everything’s wrong. 

Another man comes up beside Chiron. He looks familiar too. But he recalls his name in an instant. Dionysus. An Olympian. And alive too. 

He doesn’t get much chance to dwell on it before Dionysus waves a hand and his eyes fall shut without permission. 

[amuseoffyre]

I got thinking that the most honest and raw details about Ed and Stede's past are revealed in Stede's fever-dream and Badminton hallucination and Ed's coma, when they're confronted by their own subconsciousnesseseses (too many esesesss didn't know when to stop).

I had a pick over some of Ed's dialogue from the Gravy Basket the other day, which was barely even scraping the surface, including his expectation of violence when he's vulnerable, anticipation of hurt/cruelty in a domestic sphere and from a caretaker, desperate need for validation and approval and more.

While rewatching episode 1-4 today, it hit me how much Stede's demonstrate his belief that:

he was and remains nothing more than a disappointment to everyone around him, fit for scorn and derision (covering the parent, spouse and child for his fever dream)

no one would care if he was hurt ("Yeah, congrats")

he was insufficient ("you are such a disappointment")

he was a coward/weak ("He was scared of geese, for god's sake," say the man who shows up holding the goose he forced his son to watch him kill)

his choices, thoughts and fears would be laughed at (All of the above + Nigel)

no one cares about his physical well-being (Standing over him, taunting and laughing while he's in pain)

he was a terrible father by choosing to leave ("They'll never see papa again")

his children would hate him and wouldn't care if he was dead ("scoundrels spare no one")

Messy, emotionally-repressive autistic lad hasn't had anywhere to let out his distress for a long time, because he's never felt safe to do it. Mary says she knew he was unhappy and thought she heard him crying alone and, in a flat monotone, he denied it and said the crying was the wind.

He was conditioned to believe anything he said would be shot down. He wasn't allowed to express opinions and thoughts and his father made damn sure if he did have any, they were scoffed at and ridiculed, whether it was Stede's belief he was fortunate to have comfort and wealth or derision about his belief that he could marry for love. Mary's anger at his ship plan comes in there too, even if her reaction is warranted - he still sees a rejection of him, his ideas and the things he cares about.

It says it all that the only time he really does lose his temper in S1 (not including the meltdowns over things not going to plan) is when Jack is deliberately smashing all his buttons, treating him like his peers and dad used to and then, to rub it in extra hard, pissing on his shoes.

Stede tried to do what he normally did in stressful situations: he was going to go back to the ship so no one would see anything, because Conceal Don't Feel is that man's watchword. He bottles so finely he has an entire wine cellar of Trauma.

Ed catches him before he can leave and Stede's all out of control of his emotions and lets opinions fly and next thing he knows, Karl is dead, the crew are upset and Ed is leaving with Jack. So he learns Do Not Show The Emotions Again and boy, how that spectacularly backfires.

And on that note, watching S2, ohhhhhh there's an eruption coming at some point. He has been pushing it all down, shaking the bottles and stacking them. We've had his flashbacks again. We've had him kill for the first time. We've had him almost lose the love of his life multiple times. He's not dealt with any of that and a storm is a-coming now there's nothing to distract him from it.

Also, in case there's any doubts that his trauma isn't lurking to sneak back up and bite him, look at the man he chose to spend time with after Ed left him when he did something regarded as "man's work": an older man in a bloody leather apron just like his father in the flashbacks.

"You like me for me," he says to that guy, the one who has been reassuring him and validating him and telling him how good and worthwhile he is all day.

Stede "Daddy Issues and Then Some" Bonnet.

[bimoonphases]

@wolfstarmicrofic September 1 - prompt 1: Hogwarts Express [word count 621]

The sight of the steam engine waiting on Platform 9 and 3/4 sent Remus’s head reeling. He stopped in his tracks, ignoring the people weaving around him, the children laughing, the teenagers calling to each other, the parents repeating recommendations for the hundredth time, feeling as if he was being pulled back in time.

Back to the first time he had seen that engine, his hand clutched in his mother’s, utterly afraid of leaving home and be alone with his terrible secret for the first time, dead-set on not making any friends to avoid losing them when they would find out. Back to the first time he had looked for a place to sit in those compartments, the first time he had seen a boy with a smile warm like the sun, sitting with another boy who had timidly offered him a Chocolate Frog, back to the first time he had looked up to lose himself in silver eyes.

Back to all those times he had found his friends again on that platform, shutting themselves in one compartment, planning the pranks ahead, practicing spells they couldn’t do back at home during the holidays, swapping sweets and family stories. The times they had waited apprehensively to see if Sirius would be sent back to Hogwarts that year as well, and in what state. That first time they had ridden back with Sirius headed to the Potters’ instead of that hell that was his family’s home. That first time Remus had been able to hold Sirius’s hand for the whole ride, their friends smiling at them. The first times when the little kid rivalry with the girls had started to fade and Mary, Lily and Marlene had popped by the Marauders’ compartment. The first time Snape had come looking for Lily and Lily had gotten up from her seat next to Remus and had calmly punched him in the nose. The first time Marlene had stopped by, hand in hand with Dorcas Meadowes. The first time they had almost kicked James out because he couldn’t stop snogging Lily in front of everyone. And the last time they had found themselves bound for Hogwarts all together, the war outside forgotten in the excitement of the seventh year and Lily and James’s Headgirl and Headboy brand-new badges.

And back to that other time, when once again he had dragged himself along the corridor looking for a place and had collapsed in a seat, falling immediately asleep after the exhaustion of a Full. Back to that first time he had opened his eyes, instinct making him jump to his feet, wand at the ready, and had then looked down to the floor of the compartment to see that James had fainted. Except that it wasn’t James, it was Harry. And when Harry had opened his eyes he had Lily’s eyes and Remus had found out he still had a piece of his heart that could break.

“Moony?”

“Dad?”

Remus blinked, the Hogwarts Express still in front of him, the chaos of the first of September still around him, but three pairs of eyes looking at him. Sirius, his hands on the handle of the trolley piled high with a trunk, a soft bag and a cage in which a magnificent long-eared owl was looking around. Anwell, in his brand-new robes, his hand holding his sister’s. Estelle, who had just recently stopped asking Headmistress McGonagall, or Aunt Minerva as the children had been graciously allowed to call her when she stopped by the cottage for tea, if she could come to Hogwarts at the same time as her brother.

“Sorry,” he smiled to his husband and children. “Come on, let’s find you a free compartment, fy nghariad.”

[pomplalamoose]

DILF Luke headcanons / story draft pt. 2

🌹modern day AU🌹

A/N: Guess who's back with more dilf Luke content!🤠 Thank you SO so much for liking the first part as much as you did🫶🏻 I hope you'll enjoy this second part as well!

part 1, part 3, part 4, part 5

• his possessiveness isn't something he allows to be seen on the outside

• he is aware that he has no right to call you his own, even though he desperately wants to

• but you're so much younger than he is and, above all, have grown to become his child's best friend

• he does not want to take you away from them

• nor does he want to cause an awkward situation that might threaten to break your friendship

• and while objectively speaking all three of you are adults, he still views himself as the one that should be the most responsible

• this however won't stop him from thinking about you basically every minute of the day

• maybe he can't have you but nobody said anything about not buying you little presents here and there and offering his help whenever he can

• he wholeheartedly enjoys the way you are unable to hide your blush of excitement when he surprises you with a pretty necklace or a new pair of earrings

• he loves to hear your weak little protests and how easily he can make them fizzle out with a soft smile and the gentle promise that no, it wasn't expensive at all

• no, he isn't just getting you things out of the blue

• just take a look at the calendar, soon it's Christmas!

• soon it's your birthday!

• it's the beginning of summer!

• you have known each other for a year now!

• he always finds a reason

• of course you make sure to always wear his gifts too, they're beautiful and well chosen, matching your style perfectly

• oh how his heart sings whenever he can be a witness to it

• everyone is supposed to see and know that he was the one who got them for you

• it's his secret way of claiming you, of making sure to tell everyone else that you're taken, that someone already has their eyes on you

• if it wasn't for your lovely smell he would have liked to buy you a perfume to wear as well

• meanwhile you are absolutely clueless and think nothing of it, surely he's just being extra nice because he's finally used to your presence in his household?

• maybe he wants to make up for how he acted before?

• similarly your friend doesn't think it's weird either, after all that's just how he is, you know?

• he cares so much for the people in his live and of course he'd eventually come around to liking you a lot too

• after all, how could he not? You're around his house most of your free time

• secretly you are a little bit disappointed

• it may be foolish to hope for your friend's father to have taken an interest in you but your heart isn't interested in common sense

• I think you'd struggle admitting to yourself that you have a crush though

• he's your friend's father

• how would this work anyways?

• nevertheless your attraction stays

• it's the only thing you don't dare to talk to your friend about

• in your day dreams you fantasize about his big hand resting on your thigh while he drives and find yourself wishing for it to travel just a little bit higher

• you feel giddy with barely concealed nervousness whenever he touches you, hoping that this time he will make a move

• he never does

• and never does his touch find you outside of his car

• See? This gesture is altogether innocent, you tell yourself

• after all he never comes this close to you in any other situation and yet...

• "oh, he's being such a dad!", your friend says when you ask them about it

• "he keeps his hand near me as well so he can easily catch me when he needs to abruptly hit the brakes"

• and they're right, Luke does indeed reach out with his right arm to stabilize your upper body whenever he slows down the car

• still, his hand isn't just conveniently near to do so, it's literally on you during the whole ride

• maybe you've failed to mention that exact fact to your friend though

• you are conflicted and confused and eventually, despite your stupid heart insisting to speed up whenever you see him, decide to let it go

• from an outside perspective nothing about your relationship changes

• you continue to spend much of your free time with your friend

• their father further upholds his offer and drives you home at night

• every time, without fail, does he hold on to you

• and despite this going on for a long while you are none the wiser

• you are still uncapable to read his emotions

• you have not the slightest of clues about what goes on inside of him

• you remain in the dark about his past

• in many aspects he is more of a mystery to you now than he used to be when all you knew was his name

• yes, his demeanor has softened towards you

• but regardless there are certain moments in which you catch yourself being slightly frightened of him

• just like at the beginning

• your friend never mentions the peculiarities he puts on display and so you keep silent as well

• not seldomly does he get a call from work during dinner and while he always leaves the room, too polite to answer the phone at the table, you still are able to overhear how sharp and commanding his voice turns

• you seriously struggle to meet his gaze when he returns after

• sometimes during car rides, you try to make small talk

• you always mean well

• you want to pick up a topic you had earlier that day or to ask about a recipe he made for you and your friend

• maybe this way you'd get him to spend more time with you?

• but often his grip will grow hard enough to bruise

• it catches you off guard every time and when you squeak in pain he throws you a quick sideway glance, loosening his hand immediately

• he never speaks nor lets go of you completely, although his thumb will be rubbing soothing circles into your leg in silent apology

• should you try to initiative a conversation again after, he might answer; though in such a clipped way it shuts you up soon enough

• more often he'll simply shake his head, asking you to remain silent

• the first time you spend a night at your friend's house you feel as if there were a pair of hungry eyes watching your every move

• there is absolutely no reason for anybody to do so though, and nobody around that would have a reason to anyways

• and yet...

• of course you wouldn't mind Luke noticing the pretty top you chose to wear, the one who's neckline goes just a little bit lower than usual

• though unfortunately he seems to be very distracted and never looks your way

• so you simply strike it up to be your nerves and lively imagination; staying in a foreign place is always exciting after all

• staying with a handsome older man even more so

• as a matter of fact, however, Luke's eyes never leave you and as it gets late it takes all he has to restrain himself from snatching you away and dragging you to his own room

• you're lovely on a normal day but look absolutely ravishing in your soft pajamas

• the knowledge you won't be far away for a whole night being all too tantalizing

• maybe you are wearing short pants and so there are some faint bruises visible around your left knee

• ironically you're not aware of their existence, yet it's one of the first things Luke catches sight of and it makes him feel some kind of way

• not only are you wearing his necklace but clearly showing off what he did to you as well

• he likes it a lot, even though not the way in which they came to be

• so while you're contemplating slight paranoia he eventually has to remove himself from your immediate vicinity

• it's not becoming to lust after a young woman during late night dinner

• and the fact that you are afraid to get lost in unknown rooms in the dark doesn't help either

• your friend thinks it's hilarious and discusses it at length

• "the house won't swallow you whole because you take a wrong turn once"

• "it's only a little portion of the rooms you haven't been to yet, stop worrying!"

• "you're not prone to sleepwalking why and how would you even end up there?"

• good humoredly Luke laughs along at his kid's and your bickering but has to discreetly change his seating

• his pants grow uncomfortably tight at the thought of you accidentally walking into his bedroom

• he knows he doesn't have the strength not to make a move

• suddenly he sees himself demanding a kiss or making you beg to let you leave again

• he has to excuse himself early

• your friend and you are listening to a voice message some random guy from university/your job sent you, their father is in hearing distance but you think nothing of it

• innocently and rather excited you start talking and giggling about it, you can't believe he asked you out!

• when all of a sudden Luke gets up and leaves abruptly without a word

• you freeze and are immediately upset

• did you do something wrong? Maybe used a word or expression he didn't like? Is he angry?

• your friend just shrugs their shoulders and continues as if nothing happened but you can't stop thinking about the cold gaze he threw your way

• for the first time since meeting him he doesn't say goodbye or offers a drive home when you have to leave

• later your parents ask why your face is stained with tears, yet you can't give them an answer

• little do you know his anger was not directed at you but at the little boy who dared to show his interest in you

• he didn't even mean to listen and now has only himself to fault for the raging jealousy raising its ugly head

• additionally he's furious and ashamed at himself for his feelings

• his usually endless patience simply vanished into thin air at the prospect of another getting the chance he's been dreaming about for over a year

• he's acting like a teenager and he hates it

• he desperately needed to rein himself back in, he needed air

• and so he made a run for it, afraid to accidentally leave his anger out on you

• had he known what his disappearance caused, he would have acted differently

• you never went out with the guy who sent the message

• you are hesitant to return after what happened, despite your longing to go back and somehow fix your mistake

• whatever its is you did, you have the urge to throw yourself down at his feet and ask for forgiveness

• you don't even care for what you would be apologizing

• you could text him if course, he gave you his number, remember?

• but you don't dare to

• your friend repeatedly assures you that everything is fine and keeps passing on their father's greetings and inquiries about your person

• nobody is mad at you and least of all him

• so eventually you give in, despite feeling quite anxious about it

• to make it worse you receive a message when you arrive that your friend is still stuck in traffic and that it might take them a while

• "my dad will let you in though, no worries"

• all of a sudden you feel very much like your lungs stopped working, you are panicking and seriously consider turning around to leave

• but of course Luke knows you are coming and of course he knows the exact time as well

• he has opened the door before you can fully make up your mind on whether to wait outside or to ring the doorbell

• your words fail you

• just the sight of him makes your heart soar

• he greets you nicely enough and asks you to come in

• "it's great to see you again, it's been a while"

• however it's not like it used to be before

• something feels different

• and quickly you realize: parts of his walls came back up

• the realization chokes you

• Luke senses you're upset and despite vowing to keep his distance once and for all can't hold back from asking if everything is okay

• of course it's not

• and the way his gaze softens into familiarity is too much for you to take

• you leave to go home without waiting for your friend, instead telling them you were feeling quite ill all of a sudden

• it's not even a lie

• Luke knows exactly what just happened but forces himself to remain firm; it's for the best

• sadly I think this would put a strain on the relationship with your friend too

• you don't exactly grow apart, you're too close for that, but of course they realize there's something going on and your decision not to talk to them about it hurts their feelings

• don't you trust them anymore?

• it's during a dark autumn afternoon that you're caught by a seemingly endless downpour

• you're far from home, you don't have the money to call for a taxi and all your trains got delayed

• you think about your friend; they live near

• but you also know they aren't home, as they're currently visiting family in another part of the country

• their dad however...

• he said to call him whenever, you remember

• but what if he doesn't pick up? What if he doesn't want to see you again?

• maybe he's more willing to help when you're standing in front of him?

• despite your anxiety you have no other choice and so decide to check if he's home

• it's still pouring when you arrive and by now you're soaking wet

• Luke isn't home, probably still at work

• pressing close to the front door you sit down on the steps, trying your best to stay out of the rain

• by the time you see the headlights of Luke's car you start crying from relief

• there is not a single patch of your clothes that remained dry and you're more than freezing cold

• your teeth are chattering and you struggle to move your fingers, let alone your legs

• you hear the car door slam shut and then his steps on the path leading up to you

• he's wearing a black suit

• (this is important because even in your horrible state you are aware how absolutely hot he looks)

• when he spots your huddled together shivering form, he's momentarily at a loss for words

• still crying you raise your eyes to look up at him and for a few short seconds you're afraid he doesn't recognize you

• then his face drops

• he reaches for you, and holding you close, unlocks the door to let you in

• now able to take a proper look, his eyes travel up and down your body while he rids himself of his jacket and runs his hand through his wet hair

• it's like you can see the gears in his brain switching as he draws himself up to his full height

• when he speaks it's in such a stern tone that you can't help but wince

• his following orders are sharp and you have to RUN to follow him as he basically drags you upstairs to the master bathroom

• he tells you to undress as he's already turning on the shower for you

• he's not asking, he's commanding

• "Yes, Mr. Skywalker"

• you're so caught off guard you oblige as fast as you can

• no longer do you dare to call him by his first name

• when he sees you struggling with your frozen limbs, he helps pulling your soaked sweater over your head and assists you in getting out of your jeans before leaving you to yourself

• he informs you he'll be waiting outside

• once you are done he immediately is all over you again

• he tells you exactly what he wants you to wear, puts a pair of extra thick woolen socks on your feet and swaddles you in a blanket like a burrito

• only when you're so tightly wrapped up that you're basically unable to move, does he seem to calm down

• he places you on the big sofa in the living room and makes you a tea

• he towels off your hair while you drink it

• he takes your face in his hands and asks if you're okay

• you nod and then he goes OFF, pacing back and forth in front of you while giving you the lecture of a lifetime

• what in God's name were you thinking to not immediately call him? He would've left work early!

• you could've died walking through this weather by yourself, look at you, you're still shivering!

• you weren't dressed appropriately whatsoever! A car could've run you over, they wouldn't have seen you at all!

• under no circumstances is he allowing you to go home tonight, you're staying here where he can have an eye on you!

• his voice is getting louder with every sentence and then you're crying again

• it takes him a moment to catch himself but then he apologizes

• he asks if you would like to call your parents and hands you back your phone when you nod

• still sniffling you comply

• he remains next to you, listening in closely and throws you a stern look whenever you try to leave something out

• you know he expects you to tell them that you're staying the night too, so you do

• he softens and tells you how good you did once you hang up

• he cooks dinner and insists for you to eat even when you tell him you're not hungry

• he makes you another tea after

• "are you warm enough?"

• there is a lot you want to ask him about but hopefully it can wait for tomorrow

• he offers to accompany you to his child's room so you can go to sleep

• you shyly tell him you'd rather stay downstairs with him, maybe you could watch some TV together?

• after a moment he agrees

• you really wish he'd change out of his work clothes, it's more than distracting

[loganelfreeces]

Hi, I’ve been seeing windbreaker stuff on my dash for a bit now. Would you mind telling me about it?

Hello dear Follower and THANK YOU FOR GIVING ME THE CHANCE TO INFO DUMP ABOUT MY NEWEST OBSESSION!

Wind Breaker (Stylised all capitals) is a manga by Satoru Nii, who has written one series before: Danshi Badminton-bu ni Joshi ga Magireteru: Secret Badminton Club, a sports comedy I haven't read so I can't say anything about it. Nii-sensei is a big fan of Tokyo Revengers, a delinquant anime I also haven't watched, but Wind Breaker has been compared to it a bunch because they share a genre.

The manga recently got adapted by studio CloverWorks, who adapted The Promised Neverland, Spy X Family and Black Butler: Public School Arc. The soundtrack was done by one Ryo Takahashi and it is beautiful!

The anime follows the adventures of one Haruka Sakura, who's been bullied in a normal every day Japan his entire life for his completely natural protagonisty looks. As such, he decided the only reasonable response was to become a badass delinquant who don't need no friends to become the King of Furin High School, the country's most famous delinquant high school where fights happen every day and the local area is terrorised all the time.

Except when Sakura arrives, he ends up helping out Tachibana Kotoha when some guys were harassing her and when she thanks him for saving her from these thugs, he does this:

"It's not like I saved you or anything! I just couldn't stand that guy!"

And I have been fucking obsessed with this little Tsundere ever since.

So is everyone else in the town of Makochi, because it turns out that the students of Furin High School have been united under the banner of one Umemiya Hajime.

Umemiya got them all to protect the town from the rival gangs and teams, allowing Makochi to have some peaceful days so every time we see some random extra, they're almost always showering the Furin kids in free food and praise.

And our beloved, adorable Sakura, has almost certainly never been treated with any kindness, so it's beautiful watching how he reacts.

Of course, just because the town is peaceful, doesn't mean there aren't problems. There's no police so, Furin have to protect the town from violent gangs, like:

Shishitoren, the Devotees of Power

KEEL, the bastards who rule with an iron fist of fear

And every random unnamed small gang of mooks who pop up when things get too chill.

Luckily for us, we've got plenty of interesting characters in Bofurin to help Sakura get socialised like the feral kitten that he is and to fight the bad guys!

We've got Nirei Akihiko, the weak but clever guy who knows everything about everyone and has a pretty strong backbone, all things considered. (He is not a new Zenitsu, stop comparing the two)

We've got Suo Hayato, the fan favourite who introduced himself as being "Leonardo Dicpario" and then spent his entire first fight in the anime psycholocally analysing and torturing his opponant.

We've got Sugishita Kyotaro, the silent but zealous Umemiya fanboy who hates Sakura because he still wants to become Top Of The School.

We've got Hiragi Toma, the ever exhausted Dad leader of the Tamon Team and one of Umemiya's 4 Kings, his direct advisors and helpers.

We've got Umemiya Hajime himself, the goofy third year leader of Furin High School who has proclaimed himself everyone's Big Brother and sees everyone in Makochi as part of his family because of his Tragic Backstory.

Plus loads more I do not have the time to get into.

The anime is soooo fun, full of really funny scenes, but also really heart warming ones. It's all about building and being active in your community to make things better for those around you, listening to the people around you to understand them, how to be a good leader and when to stand your ground and when to let others help you.

The manga also has some very strong themes about being yourself around Haruka and an extremely Queer Manga only character who has cameoed in the anime, but hasn't made a proper introduction yet. Tsubakino "Tsubaki-chan" Tasuku.

I won't spoil things too much, but Furin is an All Boy's School and Tsubaki-chan has a very strong personal arc about their clothing choices, hair choices and their feelings for Umemiya. And it's all handled very kindly and sincerely.

Season 2 has been announced for sometime next year while the Manga just hit 150 chapters. I'd highly recommend getting interested, because it very much feels like things are only just getting started for Windbreaker.

Please come be insane about Windbreaker with me.