#it hits me right in the mommy and daddy issues | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

solar-wing · 2 months

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⚣ Love's Punishment 🏛️

Prompts Used: @rednsuch – #39 “Just the smell of you gets me excited, darling.” – #13 “Stop being such a brat.”

⚣🏛️ Summary → One may ask what it's like having a God or Goddess for a parent. Honestly, not fun, and Y/N is a perfect example of that considering how he's being punished by his mother. How do you even bring up this level of mommy issues in therapy?

⚣🏛️ Word Count → 6.2K

REBLOGS and replies are greatly appreciated, please! 💛

⚣ ENJOY 🏛️

Daddy issues this, and Daddy issues that.

What about the people who have mommy issues? Because they exist, and Y/N would be shocked if anyone else’s relationship challenges with their mother were similar to his own.

Truthfully, he would never understand or believe the idea that someone could have sex and procreate with a god or goddess and not have one clue. There was no divine light following behind them? No wisps of magic or sparkles. No flowers and bright auras left in their footpaths?

Nothing, not a single clue?

Bullshit.

You may ask yourself, “Y/N, whatever could be wrong with someone having adult fun and having children with a god or goddess?”

Lots of things, actually. There could be an encyclopedia on why that could be a bad idea with lots of consequences to follow. Too many to get into right at this moment considering he was busy trying to cover his head and face from getting blasted while hanging off a superhero’s shoulders like a sack of potatoes.

Getting punished by a god or goddess was not for the weak.

No kid liked getting in trouble and punished by their parents. It was a very unpleasant and frustrating feeling when you had to answer for something you either 100% did without thinking of the circumstances, or something that happened and you were the victim of said circumstances.

But imagine getting punished by your God or Goddess parent for something that you had no control over. Even more, something said parent was directly responsible for!

The hypocrisy of it all.

Y/N’s father was a handsome man. Their genes were always divinely blessed, the Alpha always liked to joke, and the young Omega didn’t realize the irony of that statement until he got older and started questioning things.

Whenever he thought about changing his appearance or switching something up, it happened immediately without any action or movement from him. At one point during some teenage life crisis, he wanted to go blonde but didn’t even need to purchase dye. One moment he’s looking at his natural hair color and looks down to grab his comb. Next thing he knows, he’s got a full head of blond hair in the exact style he imagined. And it looked goood.

There was another time when he wished in his head that the sweater he was eyeing while shopping was gray instead of red, but according to the store, they never produced that particular color. When he went to go look at other options, imagine his surprise when he turned back two minutes later and it seemed as if the store did indeed have gray. And from a closer look, they only had gray. Starting to see the point?

Y/N could read people like a book, especially pertaining to feelings of affection, desire, and jealousy. Imagine the ability to feel someone’s very adult-like feelings, and you hadn’t even hit puberty yet. His dad had to have the birds and the bees talk with him much earlier than planned.

One of the most concerning things was Y/N's naturally attractive aura and charming voice. Though, he couldn’t tell if it was his voice or just the words he spoke that were attractive. But, people seemed to flock to him like moths to a flame. Even at a young age, many fought for his attention, whether it was classmates, friends, family, or strangers he’d run into when out with his dad.

It was normal for an Omega to be highly desired and sought after by Alphas, but it wasn’t just them fighting for his attention. Y/N had Betas and Omegas alike competing with each other for the chance to get acquainted with him.

By the time he entered high school, on record, he had up to four secret admirers (and two stalkers), and when things only seemed to get more out of control, that’s when his dad finally decided to sit him down and explain the truth to him.

“So, yeah. Probably should have told you this when you were younger, but your mom’s Aphrodite.”

…

Not joking, he 100% said it just like that.

Of course, you can imagine the Omega’s confusion and somewhat anger that this information had been withheld for most of his life. Now, not only did Y/N have to deal with the everyday struggles of life and being an Omega, but he also had to balance being the demigod son to the Goddess of Beauty, Love, and Desire. When you think about it, it made the Omega thing 10x more stressful than it already was.

This was the type of shit people wrote and fantasized about.

Wait a sec…

…

Nah.

Now, back to the beginning, since we have some more context, what was this so-called punishment, and why did it have Y/N grumbling about mommy issues while being whisked around the nation’s capital as some superheroes had it out with each other over who got to claim his body affection?

Oh, nothing serious, really. Just mommy dearest trying to interfere with her son’s love life! Who knew the immortal parents were privy to the same, petty tactics as their mortal counterparts…

Unlike most others who would be excited at the thought of being the child of Aphrodite, Y/N felt he had an unfair advantage when it came to dating and relationships, given his semi-godly abilities and gifts. After his last relationship ended in a horror show with a sequel he promised would never see production, he swore off dating and romance for good.

Well, that didn’t fly too well with Aphrodite. Her children, full-blood and half-blood, were always known for their romantic escapades. One of them was the face of Valentine’s Day! Well, his cousin from Rome was, at least.

So, with the help of her son and Y/N’s half-brother, Eros, God of Love, Lust, and Sex, (the mentioned Greek cousin to Cupid) they set up a little divine punishment for the young Demigod to teach him a lesson for rejecting his goldy heritage. It also paid off as insurance, just in case.

Deities and their children were always known to be stubborn little beings.

Aphrodite sent Eros down to Earth to follow his half-blood sibling around, observing his actions and who he interacted with. And, for any male Alpha that the Omega came in contact with, the God of Lust was to ensure a connection was established between the two if he deemed them worthy enough.

Simply put, he was to shoot male Alpha he figured his mother would approve as a match for her son/his brother in the ass with a love arrow. Now, why she told him to shoot only male Alphas and not female, you’d have to ask her.

Mother knows best.

Unlucky for Y/N, they chose one of the worst days to do that when he happened to be in Washington, D.C. for a work-related trip.

Do you know what else is in Washington, D.C.? The Justice League headquarters.

But, why would that be a problem? Do you really need an explanation?

Imagine how interesting it would be if, at the same time Y/N happened to be in Washington, D.C., one of the famous Justice League heroes like Flash, Green Lantern, or Superman happened to be there as well. Picture how tempting of an opportunity it would be for Eros after he was told to find the best potential matches for his little brother.

Pretty damn tempting if you ask anyone else.

Now, if we’re being truthful, Superman was Eros’ ideal choice for his brother, knowing their mother would definitely approve of the relationship between her son and the Kryptonian. Even if he wasn’t an Alpha due to his alien biology, he still had all the ideal traits of one. Not to mention his strong features and handsome looks.

But, he wasn’t opposed to one of the other heroes like Flash or Green Lantern. And when the latter had been the one to save Y/N during some random battle that broke out between the League and some villains, he figured why not just shoot them all and see who came out on top?

Plus, he was the God of Sex just as much as he was of Love. He wanted to see who out of the three heroes had the sexual prowess to handle someone like his brother. Prude or not, being mated to a child of Aphrodite meant you had to be strong in a lot of ways, especially when it came down to the nitty and gritty.

And who said he couldn’t get a little entertainment out of this?

That entertainment is what led Y/N to his situation of being carried throughout the city like some prize while the world’s defenders fought with each other like kids trying to get the last cookie in the jar.

As said, it started with Green Lantern rescuing him and carrying him away to some random rooftop. Everything seemed normal until Y/N noticed a change in the hero and his sudden lustful gazes that were being directed at him. He'd been on the receiving end of a fair amount of adoration and attention by admiring and persistent Alphas, but this he could tell was something different.

And it was.

Eros had shot Green Lantern with the love arrow while they were still in the sky. Now, instead of thinking about the fight he was leaving his comrades to handle by themselves without his assistance, all his thoughts were centered around the Omega in his arms and how blessed he was to be in the presence of such a radiant being.

And how much he couldn't wait to claim his body all for himself. Besides, no one was more fitting or deserving of an Omega of Y/N's stature than the Green Lantern himself. At least, that's what his love-delusioned, and frankly, naturally egotistical mind believed.

Y/N didn't have time to even question what was going on before the green-clad hero had whisked him away to a rooftop, not too far from where the fight was happening. He figured it was over after that and the Alpha would return to his comrades after setting him down.

Imagine the Omega's shock when he found himself pressed against a wall, the hero kissing and nuzzling his neck while running his hands down his body.

"W-What are you doing?" Y/N stuttered out, trying to push the man away but to no avail.

"What does it look like? I'm saving you," The hero's voice was gruff and desperate, and the Omega was starting to get concerned.

"Okay, but this is less saving and more of molesting," Y/N struggled, having his arms pinned against the wall before feeling a hand running down his body towards his pants.

"I'm saving you from other Alphas trying to claim you. After this, you'll belong to me, and me only," Lantern growled gruffly in his ear, an aggressiveness that was all too familiar to the Omega. He'd seen this behavior before but didn't have much time to think about it as the hero started unbuttoning his pants.

"W-Wait! Stop!"

"No, I can't," Lantern shook his head, his eyes glazed over.

"You're under a spell or something!" Y/N tried again, but his words fell on deaf ears.

"I can't stop myself. I need you now," The hero growled, finally pulling the Omega's pants and underwear down before undoing his own and pulling out his throbbing, hard cock.

"No! Stop! You don't want to do this!"

"Stop being such a brat. I need to do this," Lantern's voice was firm and demanding.

Before the green-clad hero could achieve his objective, he was suddenly yanked off the Omega by a red and yellow blur, electricity crackling off it. The Omega after realizing he was free wasted no time in pulling his underwear and pants back up, watching as the blur, now recognized to be Flash, was currently fighting with Green Lantern near the edge of the rooftop.

"What are you doing, man?!" Flash yelled, trying to restrain the other hero.

"Let go of me, I need to save him!" Lantern growled, fighting the speedster's hold.

"From what?" Flash questioned, looking at the Omega confused.

"He's mine!"

"He's not yours!"

"Yes, he is!"

"GL, you need to get a grip."

"He's my Omega! I need to mark him!"

From his position, Y/N could see Flash was struggling to hold the other Alpha down and figured he should probably make his exit right about now. He made his way over to the fire escape, about to climb over until a figure floated up from below.

Superman, ever in his large and slightly intimidating form with his cape blowing in the wind looked down at the Omega with a smile, offering his hand, "Need some help?"

The Omega smiled with a soft blush, trying to quell his nerves at the Alpha's admittedly very handsome and chiseled face. Again, the Omega was no prude, nor was he oblivious to all the gossip and rumors of the world's protectors and their handsome and muscular figures. The latter was made even more prominent by the tight nature of their uniforms.

Y/N would be lying if he said he wasn't looking at Flash's prominent glutes hidden under the red spandex.

But, before the Omega took the Kryptonian's equally large hand, he noticed something in the background. The fight that initially led to this whole mess was still going on. Yet, three of the main superheroes involved in that fight were over here. Flash, he threw to the back of his mind since the speedster did technically save him. But, why was Superman here?

That's when Y/N noticed something in the Kryptonian hero's eyes. An expression almost identical to the one he just saw in Green Lantern.

Uh oh.

Before the Omega could even react, the Alpha had already scooped him up into his arms and flew off into the sky.

"H-Hey! Put me down!" Y/N stuttered, struggling in the Alpha's hold.

"I can't. I need to save you," Superman's voice was low and deep, and the Omega could feel the vibrations from his chest.

Hmm, where had he heard that before?

"Save me from what?"

"Other Alphas trying to claim you," The Kryptonian explained, and Y/N could have sworn he heard a growl in his voice.

A nervous feeling settled into his stomach, and if he wasn't careful, he'd find himself falling prey and submissive to the very situation he was trying to find a way out of. Being Aphrodite's son as mentioned before, he had an extraordinary gift with the power of emotions and desires. He could project his feelings of desire and love onto others, just as much as he could mirror them.

Another one of those aforementioned consequences of deities breeding with mortals.

The only thing Y/N struggled to figure out though was why all of this was happening. He'd never had a run-in with any of these heroes before, and the only time he'd seen behavior like this was when it was related to his...

...Of course.

His mother.

Now, everything was starting to make sense. This could only be the work of mommy dearest, and if Y/N had to guess, his half-brother Eros as well.

He'd have to deal with that problem later, though. Right now, he needed to focus on the task at hand, and that was escaping the arms of a very powerful, very strong, and very horny superhero.

"You're mine. I'll protect you from the others," Superman continued, and Y/N could feel a slight rumble in the Alpha's chest.

"I'm not yours," The Omega shook his head, continuing to struggle.

"Yes, you are. You're mine," The Kryptonian's grip tightened, and the Omega winced at the pain.

Y/N looked down and quickly rid himself of any thoughts that he could survive a fall from this height. Even if he was Aphrodite's son, he lacked something vitally important that his mother and brother both possessed. Immortality.

Hopefully, he could figure another way out of this.

He knew there was no reasoning with the Alpha. As long as he was under Eros' spell, no amount of logic or reasoning would get through to him. As cliché as it may sound, Y/N needed a divine intervention.

Thankfully, it seemed as if one was on the way.

Trails of green energy suddenly surrounded the pair, forming a giant floating cage. Superman turned to see his comrade, having escaped from Flash's grasp flying toward them.

"Get away from him!" Green Lantern yelled, flying towards the duo.

"No! He belongs to me. You have no right to him Lantern," Superman shouted back, clutching the Omega closer.

"You're not even a real Alpha, Clark! You're not even strong enough to make an Omega like him submit to you."

"What did you just say?!"

"You heard me, you fake-ass Alpha. I'm the only one worthy enough for him. Not some alien trash!"

"Why, you-"

Before the two could continue their argument, a vortex suddenly surrounded the two, causing Lantern to lose his focus. The energy cage surrounding the Kryptonian and Omega dissipated and the force from the vortex sent the two heroes to lose their flying. Superman tried his best to stay in the air, but the sudden force was too much and caused him to crash into a nearby building while Lantern crashed into a dumpster.

The Kryptonian managed to shield the Omega from the damage and brunt of their fall by wrapping him in his body. When Y/N realized they weren't falling anymore and had come to a complete stop, he peeked from the Alpha's hold, just in time to see the return of a certain Speedster who must have run up the side of the building to where they were now.

"Are you guys alright?" Flash asked, his eyes landing on the Omega in Superman's arms.

"I'm fine," Y/N nodded, and Flash sighed in relief.

"A vortex, Flash? Really?" Superman questioned with a raised eyebrow, still holding the Omega to his body.

"It was the quickest way to get you two out of the air without hurting anyone," Flash defended, crossing his arms.

"By throwing us into a building?"

"Better than the ground."

"You could have gotten him killed!"

"You were the one holding him!"

"Guys, I'm fine. I promise," Y/N interrupted, and the two Alphas turned to him.

"See, he's fine. Let's get back to the fight," Flash suggested, turning to leave.

"No, not until he's mine," Superman shook his head, and the Omega groaned. He stood up from the ground, letting the Omega stand on his own feet, but keeping an arm wrapped body to prevent him from running off.

"Not this again," Flash sighed, turning back, "You can't claim him."

"And why not?"

"Because he's mine," Lantern's voice suddenly joined the conversation, and the three turned to see the hero, seemingly recovered from his fall, walking towards them.

"No, he's mine!" Superman shouted, his eyes suddenly glowing red as he pointed them at the green-clad hero.

"Clark, no!" Flash shouted, holding his arms up in an attempt to stop the Kryptonian.

"No, he's mine. He's mine. He's mine!" The Kryptonian yelled, his eyes getting brighter.

"Clark, you're gonna kill him!"

"I don't care, Barry. No one is taking my Omega from me."

"He's not yours to claim," Lantern shouted back.

While this was all happening, everyone was oblivious to the new presence that had joined him. Only, none of the heroes could see him. Only Y/N could, and that was a very big problem.

"Eros..." Y/N muttered under his breath, narrowing his gaze at his half-brother who held a mischievous grin on his face while positioning himself slowly behind the speedster.

When Y/N realized what he was doing, he struggled in the Kryptonian's grip, "Eros, no!"

But, it was too late. The deity had taken his shot at the Flash, hitting him perfectly square in the back. The speedster flinched at the impact, turning to look around but finding nothing there, at least, nothing his sight could see. But, when he turned his gaze back around and they fell on the Omega still trapped in Superman's hands, an identical glaze to match the one in the other heroes fell over his eyes. One the half-blood was all too familiar with.

"Oh fuck..." Y/N muttered under his breath.

"Mine," Flash growled, his eyes trained on the Omega.

Before either of the two other heroes could react, Flash sped forward and landed a bunch of fast punches and blows on the Kryptonian, causing him to lose his grip on the Omega.

"Flash, what are you doing?" Lantern yelled at his comrade.

"Taking what's mine," The speedster responded, a charming but crazed look in his expression.

He grabbed Y/N and threw him over his shoulder, the Omega flailing in his grip while also trying to hold on tight as the speedster sped around the space, avoiding attacks from both Green Lantern and Superman at the same time.

"He's not yours, Barry!" Superman shouted, his heat vision shooting at the speedster who avoided it with ease.

"Yes, he is! He's mine!" The speedster yelled, clutching the Omega tighter.

"No, he's mine," Lantern yelled back, sending a giant fist toward the speedster who avoided it in a blur.

"No, he's mine!" Superman yelled, sending his heat vision at Lantern who in turn blocked it with a shield.

"No, he's mine!" The two shouted together, and the fight resumed.

Y/N, still trapped in the speedster's arms, watched helplessly as the Kryptonian and Lantern focused their attacks on each other, feeling a pat on his ass from the speedster who tightened the grip he had around his legs.

"Don't worry about them, beautiful. They're not worthy enough to have you. I am. You'll be mine, and I'll protect you from the others," Flash's voice was husky, and the Omega could feel his heart pounding against his chest.

"You're under a spell, Flash. You don't want to do this," Y/N tried to reason, but the speedster just laughed.

"Oh, but I do. I didn't know what actual life was until just a few minutes ago when I gazed upon you. and now that I have you, I can finally make you mine," Flash smirked, and the Omega gulped.

Flash sped out of the building with the Omega over his shoulder still, the two other Alphas only noticing their disappearance after they were already a mile down the street.

"Shit, where did he take him?" Lantern asked, looking around.

"I don't know," Superman answered, "But we'll find him. And when we do, you'll be the one who has to step aside."

"Like hell, I will!"

While those two continued to bicker, Flash ran himself and the Omega all the way back to Central City. Y/N was amazed at how he didn't pass out from the speed and movement, but he was grateful he didn't. Also, having superspeed may have made it a bit easier.

Just a guess.

When they finally came to a stop, the Omega was set down on his feet, and he looked around to see they were in some bedroom.

"Where are we?" Y/N asked, trying to keep his composure.

"My bedroom," Flash answered, his eyes still glazed over.

"Oh," Y/N nodded, a nervous feeling in his stomach.

"Don't worry, you're safe here," The speedster walked towards him, and the Omega backed away, "I'm not gonna hurt you."

"You say that, but your eyes say otherwise," Y/N responded, continuing to back away until he hit the wall.

"I know. But, I can't help it. I need to have you," Flash smirked, and the Omega felt his arousal getting excited in his pants.

"I'm not yours to have," Y/N shook his head, his heart pounding.

"Yes, you are," Flash's voice was firm, and the Omega felt his resolve fading.

"I-I'm not," Y/N stuttered, his knees getting weak.

"Yes, you are," The speedster was in front of him, and Y/N could feel his breath on his skin.

"I'm not," Y/N shook his head, but his voice was barely a whisper.

"You are," Flash whispered, his face close to the Omega's.

The very thing Y/N was concerned about happening when he was trapped with Superman earlier began to manifest, much to his fear. His divine abilities were reacting to his body's 'chemistry spikes' and now, he was beginning to mirror the Alpha's current feelings toward him, including the obsessive ones, which were now clouding his judgment.

"I'm not," Y/N shook his head, his breathing getting labored.

"You are," Flash whispered, his lips getting closer to the Omega's.

"I'm not," Y/N stuttered, his body giving in.

"You are," Flash whispered, pressing his lips to the Omega's.

"I'm not," Y/N muttered against his lips.

"You are," Flash said firmly, pulling the Omega's body closer to him.

In a move Y/N thought was him going to push against the Alpha in an attempt to resist his seductions, he actually was running his hands up and down the spandex-covered muscles. His legs were spread open by the speedster as he hoisted him up, wrapping them around his waist while pressing him to the wall, kissing him even harder while undressing his clothes.

"You're mine, Y/N," The speedster whispered, his lips trailing down the Omega's neck, "All mine."

"I'm yours, Barry," Y/N panted, his body flushed. Y/N remembered hearing Superman call the speedster by that, figuring it must have been either his civilian name or a codename they had. Either way, he could see from the delighted expression across the Flash's face and his blue eyes through the slits of his mask that he was very pleased by it.

"Say it again."

"I'm yours, Barry. I'm yours."

"That's right, beautiful. You're mine, and I'm yours. You'll never have to worry about other Alphas again, because I'll protect you from them."

The sun's light cascaded through the open windows in the bedroom as the two continued frotting against each other against the wall. Barry trailed his kisses from Y/N's lips down to his neck and eventually to his naked chest, before sucking on his wet nipples while the Omega through his head back in pleasure, the Alpha looking up at him with his blue eyes before taking his lips away from the leaking nubs.

"Do you like that, darling?" Barry asked, and the Omega nodded, his eyes glazed over, "Are you ready for more?"

"Y-Yes, Alpha," Y/N nodded, his breath labored.

"Good boy," Barry whispered, his voice husky and deep. He kissed the Omega one last time on the lips before pulling him away from the wall, carrying him bridal style to the bed.

Barry laid the Omega down, the latter spreading his legs open in submission and invitation, and the former smirked, climbing on top of the bed. Barry pressed kisses to the side of the Omega's neck again, right over his scent gland before taking a big sniff.

"Just the smell of you gets me excited, darling."

Barry's hands roamed the Omega's upper naked body, feeling the smooth and soft skin while trailing his fingers down his sides and to his hips. Y/N gasped, his hands gripping the sheets as the speedster's fingers teased the inside of his thighs.

"I love the way your skin feels, and the way your body reacts to me," Barry whispered, his nose pressing into the Omega's scent gland.

"Barry," Y/N moaned, his body arching off the bed.

"Say it again," Barry growled, his hands squeezing the Omega's hips.

"Barry," Y/N moaned, his eyes closed.

"That's right, baby. I'm Barry, and you're mine," Barry whispered, his fingers moving up the Omega's inner thighs.

"I'm yours," Y/N nodded, his legs spreading open even wider.

However, before Barry could move to remove the Y/N’s pants, the Omega whined at him, tugging on the spandex of his suit and mask with his hands causing a cheesing smile to appear across the Alpha's face.

"Aw, you want to see me out of my suit, don't you, darling?" Barry asked, and the Omega nodded frantically.

"Yes, Alpha. Please."

"Good boy," Barry praised, and the Omega whimpered.

He quickly removed his gloves and masks, tossing them aside before unzipping the top of his suit and pulling it off, revealing his sculpted and muscled chest. Y/N's eyes widened in delight and appreciation at the sight, reaching his hands out to touch the smooth and pale skin.

The Omega moaned happily at the sight, running his hands down the hard pecs and abs while leaning up to press his own kisses against the skin. Barry shuddered above him from the move while resuming his earlier actions of removing the offending pants and underwear that were hiding his prize from his sight.

Tossing the pants aside, he leaned up and took in the sight of the fully naked Omega, writhing on his sheets and whining for him, feeling his own throbbing hard erection under his suit pants.

"Look at you, darling. So beautiful, and all mine," Barry ran his hands down the Omega's sides, creating a tickling feeling that had the smaller male giggling, "I can't wait to claim your body, all for me," he growled, voice husky with want.

Barry kissed his way down the Omega's chest, taking a moment to bite and lick at the leaking nubs again before gripping his thighs and spreading them open. He positioned his head between the open legs while staring at the tight, slick-producing hole in front of him. He lapped his tongue to gather of taste of it on his tongue, Y/N flinching violently at the sensation while calling out the Alpha's name.

"Delicious," Barry muttered, before diving in on the wet treat in front of him.

"Oh fuck," Y/N moaned, his hands gripping the bed sheets tightly.

Barry's tongue lapped at the dripping slick, his hands gripping the Omega's thighs tight and pushing them open even further to gain better access. Y/N moaned, his back arching off the bed while the Alpha's tongue entered his hole, tasting him from the inside.

"Barry, please. Please, I need it. Please," Y/N begged, his body shaking with arousal and want.

Barry didn't listen to him though, he kept feasting on the Omega's arousal while using his speed to vibrate his tongue inside him, causing the Omega to moan even louder, his body shaking with pleasure.

"Barry, please! a-ah, fuck ... !" Y/N cried, his body shaking even more.

"What do you need, baby? Tell me," Barry asked, pulling his tongue out and looking at the Omega with a smirk.

"I-I need you... Please, please," Y/N begged, and the Alpha smiled.

"You want me, baby?"

"Yes, Alpha. Please, I need you. Please."

"Well, since you asked so nicely."

The Alpha discarded the rest of his suit and underwear, his throbbing erection springing free, causing the Omega to lick his lips at the sight. Barry chuckled at his reaction while pulling him down the bed and picking him up in his arms, wrapping the smaller male's legs around him and pressing him against the wall.

Barry played with his cock against the Y/N's wet heat, enjoying the pleasurable reactions that ran across the Omega's face. "Who's your Alpha?" He asked with another playful smack of his mushroom head against the hot and throbbing entrance.

"Y-You, Alpha," Y/N panted, his face red and eyes glazed over.

"That's right, baby. I'm your Alpha," Barry whispered before he slowly slid inside the Omega.

"Fuck!" Y/N yelled, his head leaning back against the wall.

"So tight and warm. It's like you were made just for me, baby," Barry moaned, his cock pushing all the way in until his balls were pressed against the Omega's ass.

Y/N dug his nails into the skin of Barry's shoulders while the Alpha pressed him harder against the wall, his hips rapidly moving back and forth as he fucked him hard. The speedster's hips and legs were already dripping with more and more of the Omega's arousal as it dripped into his carpet, creating more of a mess the harder he thrust in and out of the hole.

"h-harder ... p-please, harder ..." Y/N moaned, his eyes closed while Barry sucked on his neck.

"So beautiful," Barry growled, his hands gripping the Omega's ass cheeks while thrusting harder, "Such a good little Omega, taking my cock so well."

"Barry! Barry!" Y/N moaned, his legs wrapped tighter around the Alpha's waist.

"Say it again," Barry growled, his hips moving faster.

"Barry!" Y/N moaned, his back arching.

Suddenly, Barry got the bright idea to add his speed to it, making his hips move at a pace that would be deemed impossible for any regular human. Good thing he wasn't a regular human. However, the increase in speed had Y/N shouting at the top of his lungs, tears springing to his eyes as he pounded his fists against the Alpha's hard, mildly sweaty chest.

Meanwhile, Y/N was a soaking mess. The shine from the sweat all around his body was highlighted by the sun's fading rays and the increasingly bright glow from the streetlights outside the window. Combined with the sticky fluid still leaking from his chest and the slick that was all but splashing between the Alpha and Omega.

"That's it, baby. Take my cock. Take it all," Barry growled, his hips moving faster.

"Barry, I-I'm gonna... I'm gonna cum," Y/N cried, his legs shaking.

"Do it. Cum for me, baby," Barry commanded, and the Omega followed.

"Fuck!" Y/N screamed, his back arching and his eyes rolling back into his head as he came between the two, digging nails into Barry's sweaty back as his release overwhelmed him.

"That's a good Omega," Barry said, before slipping out of the smaller male, carrying him over to the bed and propping him up on all fours.

He gripped the Omega's hips, sliding back inside him and fucking him at a rapid pace, his hips slapping against the plump ass cheeks. Y/N's eyes rolled back into his head as he cried out, his body shaking with pleasure while the Alpha fucked him.

"That's it, baby. Take it," Barry growled, his grip tightening on the Omega's hips.

"p-please, I can't... FUCK! I can't take anymore... !" Y/N cried, his body shaking as the Alpha started using his powers again to increase his speed.

"You can, and you will," Barry growled, his hips moving even faster.

"Barry, please! Fuck, I'm gonna... !"

"Do it. Cum for me, baby. Cum for your Alpha," Barry growled.

"mm ... mmh ... ! O-OHH, FUCK ... !" Y/N shouted, his back arching and his eyes rolling back into his head as he came, his legs and body shaking from the overstimulation as the Alpha started to chase his own finish.

Barry's knot started to form at the base and slowly was inching closer and closer as the Alpha fucked the Omega who was beginning to softly cry from the amount of pleasure and pain he was experiencing. His hands weakly tried to push against the speedster's hips in an attempt to slow him down but were snatched together in a grip while feeling a painful smack against his ass.

"Don't try and fight it, baby. Just let me claim you. Just let me have you," Barry growled, throwing his head back in pleasure.

"Barry, I-I can't ... !" Y/N cried, his body shaking.

"Yes, you can. Just a little longer," Barry's hips started to stutter, and the Omega cried out, his legs shaking as he felt the Alpha's knot starting to press against his hole.

"Barry, please! PLEASE ... !" Y/N sobbed, his body convulsing on the inside from the overwhelming sensation.

"Just a little longer, baby. Just a little longer."

"I-I can't... Please, I can't ... !"

"Almost there, baby. Who's your Alpha?"

"Y-You... You are ... !"

"That's right, baby. I'm your Alpha. And, now I'm gonna make you mine. Forever."

With that, Barry pressed all the way inside, releasing his knot into the Omega with a loud groan as he leaned forward, catching himself on the bed as Y/N had his third orgasm against the sheets, suddenly feeling heavy and drained from the strenuous workout he just went through.

While the pair were both recovering, neither of them realized the small, matching marks that slowly appeared over their scent glands. They were now a fully mated pair, and the God of Love and Sex knew this as he peered in through the window, watching the sweaty individuals with satisfaction.

"Welp, my job's done. I'm sure Mother will be pleased with this outcome. Serves you right, brother. You should know better than to try and deny your heritage. Hope you learn well from this punishment."

With that, the deity disappeared, making his way home.

Meanwhile...

"That should be the last of them," Lantern said, flying through the air after he captured the last of the attacking minions.

"Good," Superman nodded, his eyes still glowing white as he scanned the area.

"What are you doing?" Lantern asked, looking at the Kryptonian confused.

"Looking for him."

"Who?"

"The Omega."

"Oh yeah, do you think Barry already claimed him?"

"Probably, but it doesn't matter. Cause he belongs to me, and I'm going to take him back, by whatever means necessary."

☀️ | Barry Allen/Flash | ☀️

☀️ | Masterlists | ☀️

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nisuna · 5 months

Note

Hii bby girl, for my birthday could you maybe do some head canons of Gojo with mommy issues? Hope you’re doing good and that you’re not stressed ❤️❤️

Hiiiyaaa mamaaa~~ 🤭🤭 I caught a cold over the weekend, because I was so stressed 😭😭 But I'm feeling better now ^^

Haaappyyy early(?) birthday, bby<3 I hope this is what you had in mind~ I hope you're doing well too and enjoy your special day!!🥳

<3masterlist<3

MDNI 18+ only

TW: mommy kink, dick riding, edging; use of mommy, good boy, pretty boy, baby boy, beefcake, baby; cum eating, eating a girl out after a creampie, sub - dom dynamics, Gojo Satoru x f!reader

Satoru didn't have the greatest bond with his mother growing up, but fortunately it didn't stop him from having sex altogether. However, he went as far as to say that daddy and mommy kinks were weird.

He would cringe every time a hook up would moan daddy in his ear and he also definitely was way too proud to get dominated, or let alone call a girl mommy.

Well, that quickly changed when he got together with you.

There was just something about you that made him wanna whine mommy all the time, whatever you did sexual or not, the nickname mommy was always on his mind whenever he saw you.

But the first few times you've had sex he was cool about it and tried to hide his evergrowing kink.

It was when you were riding him one night that the word finally slipped out.

"Ooh fuck give it to me mommy ah-", oh no did he really just say that. Shit. However, when he was about to apologise or take everything back your hand was already wrapped around his thick neck as you purred into his ear.

"Yeah? Want mommy to make ya feel good? You gotta be a good boy first tho, right? Only good boys get to cum."

Gulp.

"You're not allowed to cum until I tell you to okay? Mommy will get off first okay?", all he could do was whine and nod his head.

"Use your words, pretty boy~", you gave his throat a sqeeze making him gasp for air.

"Y-yes mommy, gonna be good for ya, please use me."

Oh you were just hitting his every fantasy spot on.

"Good boooy~," you swiped his bangs off of his sweaty forehead while giving it a gentle kiss. You never thought about being dominant in the bedroom before, but there was just something about the way he called you that flipped a switch inside of you and got you incredibly excited. Having such a big strong man at your mercy would definitely get you off. He was just much bigger and much much stronger than you and could easily overpower you, but you had him wrapped around your finger, apparently.

You had him a whimpering mess, edging him until he almost couldn't take it anymore, occasionally choking him. And everytime he tried to touch you, you would slap his hands away, reminding him. "No touching, if you wanna cum tonight."

He could only whine and pout, grabbing the sheets beneath him instead. His little huffs were sooo cute, you couldn't believe your eyes. Such a beefcake reduced to a whimpering mess just because of you? Oh hell yeah.

"Baby boy?", he looked up eyes glossed over and cheeks dusted pink. "You've been good right? You wanna cum?"

His eyes light up, nodding his head, "Yes yes yes please been so good please!!"

"Sure", you smiled and for a split second he believed you as you started rolling your hips so deliciously, only to pull out as he was about to bust.

"Not so quick. I only asked if you wanted to, I never said you were allowed to yet."

All he could do was groan, fisting the sheets beneath him. He would've been fed up by now if it was anybody else. But it was You. He couldn't possibly disobey you. So he just bit down on his lip and nodded. "Sorry mommy.."

"It's alright baby, you're doing so well. Keep it up it's almost over, I'm almost there." with a few more swipes over your clit, you felt yourself topple over the edge.

"M gonna cum, you gotta cum with me okay be a good boy and fill me up.", oh it was music to his ears as he grabbed onto your hips and fucked his cum deep inside of you.

He was so incredibly out of breath, he felt like he was about to faint, one of the best fucks of his life. But the next words that came out of your mouth, when you pulled yourself off of his cock made him gulp.

"Be a good boy and eat mommy out. Clean me up."

Eat you out? Sure. But right now??!?! he thought With his cum dripping out of you he couldn't possibly-

"Cmon what's wrong?" you yanked him by the hair pulling his face to yours. "You wanna get edged again?"

He violently shook his head in your tight grip

"Alright, then be a good boy and get to work."

You let go of his hair shoving him down your body with your foot. He was petrified, by both the idea of tasting himself and your harsh demeanor. But the disapproving look you were giving him right now made him want to make it up to you. He was your good boy afterall, right?

So he swallowed his pride and dove right in. To his surprise it wasn't half bad. Your own juices mixed with his made his eyes roll into the back of his head.

He was obediently licking you clean while spreading your legs as wide as possible for better access.

"Ah- good boy, good job. Tastes good right, do you like it?" you grabbed a handful of his hair, smooshing his face closer into your cunt.

"Mhmm~", he hummed against you while continuing his kitten licks, finally paying attention to your clit.

"Make sure to get it all out alright?

He understood, immediately pushing two thick fingers into you and licking them clean.

"Such a good boy, you're a quick learner."

Your every praise made him more and more eager until he was lewdly eating you out with loud slurps. He pulled away after a bit, massaging your clit with his thick fingers.

"Want you to cum on my face, mommy. Please wanna taste you again. Pleaaasee", he whined grinding his crotch into the matress beneath him

"Yeah, mommy's gonna cum if you keep that up."

His eyes lit up at that, diving right back in to sucking on your clit while fingerfucking his remaining cum out of you.

It didn't take long for you to squish his face between your thighs releasing all over his face. He immediately went back to slurping all of you up, overstimulating you a bit in the process. When he finally came up from between your legs, you put your thumb and forefinger on his chin and made him open his mouth.

"Did you swallow it all? Good boy~", you hummed swiping the remaining cream off of his chin and pushing your fingers in his mouth. He obediently sucked on them while looking straight into your eyes. So cute.

Once you were satisfied he pulled himself off your fingers with a pop, grinning.

"Was I good?"

"Yees you were the best, cmere." With that his face ended up squished between your tits hugging you tightly while you patted his head. "How come you never told me you had a mommy kink, Satoru?", you giggled.

He stayed quiet.

"Hmm? What's wrong baby?" You lifted his head with both of your hands on his cheeks, squishing them in the process.

"I didn't- I mean it's kind of embarassing. Before you I even used to think mommy and daddy kinks were weird but it's different with you...", he slurred while having his face smooshed between your hands looking away with a pout.

"Ooiii, look at me, it's fine~. Nothing to be embarassed about. You saw how into it I was, didn't you? You can always tell me, if you want to try out something new.", you smooched his lips. "But can't you always be so obedient for me? You look so pretty when you-" you teased.

"Stooopppp enough", he whined pushing his face back into your chest.

"Okay okay sorry sorry~", you giggled.

And after that it just came natural to him to call you mommy whenever you two were alone. It wasn't only sexual either. Sometimes after a rough day at work he just wanted to be babied and cuddled by you. And you always indulged him. No judgement on your side. However you were only human, so you couldn't help but tease him about it from time to time. Unfortunately, the teasing sometimes came out while others were around. Which is why he pulled you aside right now whining.

"But you definitely can't tell anyone about this", he made you promise, desperately squishing your shoulders. "Especially not Suguru. He would never let me live this one down..."

"Sorry sorry, mommy will try her best", you chuckled and with a peck on his lips you slipped back to the others.

"Yooouuuuu!!!", he cursed under his breath. You will definitely be the death of him.

---

Feel free to send me your Hot Takes as well ^^

#takes with nini♡#jjk smut #jjk headcanons #jjk x reader #gojo smut #jjk drabbles #satoru smut #gojo x reader #satoru x reader #jjk fanfic #jujutsu kaisen smut #gojo satoru x you #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru smut #satoru gojo x you #satoru gojo x reader #satoru gojo smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader

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loveisanimaginarydagger3000 · 7 months

Text

Daddy Issues

Natasha X Reader

Inspired by the song Daddy Issues by the Neighbourhood.

Warnings: Physical Abuse, Trauma, Difficult Childhood, Hurt/comfort, Domestic Violence, Child Abuse, Panic Attacks.

Please consider these Warnings before reading. This is a Mature Rated Fic.

Y/n was the newest member of the avengers team and Natasha was very intrigued by the young woman. She was always on guard and had a mask similar to the spy to not let their true emotions show. Curious as to why, Natasha watched the woman with caution, her instinct to not trust and find out the truth had gotten the better of her. But the truth would affect her more then she realised.

Daddy stuck around but he wasn't present Cheated on your mom but she never left him

The Avengers were sat around the kitchen ready for breakfast when Clint said, “God this tastes exactly what my old man used to make,” his tone nostalgic as he remembered his father making him breakfast. The team laughed and started to talk about their own childhoods due to prompt from the archer. You tensed slightly at the topic but made sure your walls stayed high as you didn’t need anyone knowing. However you failed to notice a certain redhead saw how you started to just push your food around on your plate and remained quiet. Not wanting to be there anymore, you made a reasonable excuse to leave and smiled at everyone before leaving raising no suspicions from anyone else.

First I didn't get it, now I understand

“What’s that now? Like 10-0?” the spy teased as she had once again pinned you to the training mats. You huffed out in annoyance as you hated training with Natasha as it always ended in teasing and you on the floor is positions way too familiar, except you knew she would never purposely hurt you. Not like he did.

“What’s that from?” She questioned while seeing the large scar on your stomach as your loose t-shirt had ridden up while being thrown on the floor.

“Just a silly accident as a child.” You quickly brushed the subject aside while pulling the ends of the black fabric down to cover it. Natasha saw the ways your eyes flickered with fear and conflict before your mask once again came back up.

“Oh ok,” she said, acting convinced for you to believe her, “Want to go again? Maybe you’ll land a hit this time.” Her tone mocking in a playful way but it only brought you another painful memory.

You heard shouting coming from downstairs before a little knock at your door. Your younger brother peaked his head around the door, his eyes full of fear.

“Y/n?” his voice barely above a whisper as he came into the room searching for his older sister.

“Hey I’m right here,” you softly spoke to him, attempting to calm him down as you could see how scared he was. “Why don’t you spend the night in my room?” you asked while pulling him in for a gentle embrace. You felt a little nod against your chest and pulled him into your bed. “You stay right there for me ok? You’re safe in here, he won’t get you. I won’t let him.” You pulled back to see tears threatening to fall but he nodded once again before you went to leave the room.

“Y/n please don’t go. He’ll hurt you again,” he pleaded as you reached for the door handle.

“It’s ok Y/b/n. I need to help mommy,” you turned to look at him curled in your duvet, “I’ll be fine.”

When you reached downstairs all you could smell was alcohol as you saw him. Your father was screaming at your mother as her hand rubbed over the red handprint across her face.

“Get the fuck away from her,” you spat as you ran over to your mother and pushed the man out of your way.

“You want to say that again you little bitch,” he growled as he shoved you away from your mother.

“I said get the fuck away from her!” you shouted, the rage that was bottled up inside you was now spilling out.

“I’d like to see you try and land a hit on me you pathetic little bitch,” he snarled while taking a swig of the bottle of alcohol in his hand before advancing towards your sobbing mother again. With all your strength you pushed him over before he could swing the bottle at your mother. You didn’t register anything till you saw the panic in your mothers eyes and the sinister look on his face before feeling a sudden pain along your stomach and your shirt becoming wet and sticky.

“Y/n?” questioned the spy as you had zoned out after her question.

“Huh,” you looked at her before replying, “Oh. Uh no thanks, I’ve had enough for today.” You smiled at her while rubbing the back of your neck, your nails digging into the skin there to punish yourself you being so vulnerable. “I’m going to go now Nat. Thanks for training,” you smiled at her before leaving her alone in the gym.

He broke her heart, left money in her hand So everything got paid for

“So Y/n, what’s your favourite childhood memory?” asked Tony as the whole team were enjoying a nice night in, sharing stories to provide entertainment.

“There’s so many how could I choose?” you lied while laughing with the others, trying your best to avoid the subject.

“Come on,” Tony said with a hint of stubbornness in his tone, “There’s got to be one that’s your favourite?”

“Yeah come on Y/n,” spoke a few other Avengers

“Ok, ok,” you raised your hands in defeat as you thought carefully, trying to find a happy memory. “It was my little brothers birthday and my mother and father gave us money to go to the local fair with,” you started trying to talk about your father in a way that didn’t seem like he ruined your life when that’s all he did, “He wanted to go on every single ride with me and practically dragged me around the place,” you laughed at the memory of seeing his face, his smile bright enough to light up a room. “But we went on this one ride that was too much for him and he swore to me he would never go on a ride ever again,” you chuckled at remembering his pale face as if he had just done the scariest thing in the world.

“Hey you ok?” you asked as he stumbled off the ride, a little smile on his face.

“Yeah I’m fine,” he gasped out while walking with you to exit the ride, “ I am never going on another ride ever again,” he exclaimed while looking at you. You raised your eyebrow at his suggestion before he quickly said, “Hey I’m being serious! That was terrifying!” you laughed at his seriousness before giving him a side hug and looking for your parents. After scanning the crowd you saw your father talking to another woman, his hands on her waist and a flirtatious look in his eyes. You looked past him to see your mother stood alone smoking, looking as if she was about to cry on the spot. You suggested to your brother that you could go find a game to play to avoid him seeing your parents.

A hand on your leg snapped you back to your thoughts. Natasha saw how after a moment or two of remembering the event your smile seemed to falter so she tried to bring you back to reality.

“Seems like someone was enjoying the memory too much,” she joked before changing the subject to spare you. After a while you slipped out of the room and no one seemed to notice. Well except for a certain redhead.

A few weeks later you found yourself at one of Starks after parties along with your team mates who had all seemed to had a bit to drink from the earlier main party. You were the only one there who hadn’t drunk anything alcoholic as you refused to drink anything like that. You zoned out while everyone started to talk as this wasn’t one of the things you liked to do. You started to pay attention to what was happening when you heard two male voices starting to get louder. You gripped the arm of the sofa you were sat in while your leg started to bounce slightly in anxiety. When Tony and Steve had started to properly argue and shout at each other you felt your thoughts spiralling out of control. Flashes how he would shout at you mother filled your brain, how he would beat her for wanting the best for their children, no her children, he had lost the title of being your father the first time he hit your mother. Other painful memories invaded your brain such as how he would hit you, pin you to the ground and do unimaginable things to a child and laugh as he saw your brother and mother shy away in fear. Your breath started to quicken and your hands started to tremble so you decided you needed to leave the room as quick as possible.

Suddenly you stood up and left the room as everyone was preoccupied with stopping the super soldier and billionaire from fighting. You managed to get to the roof of the compound, the place where you would go if anything became too much such as now, before your legs gave way and you collapsed against the wall. You let your body take control as you couldn’t keep the emotions in anymore. Your whole body violently shook as you sobbed into your hands.

All you could see was him. His face. His hands as he held you down. The screams of your mother. Your screams. The silhouette of your younger brother watching. The smell of alcohol. The feeling of pain. The feeling of when he would-

“Y/n…” Natasha’s tone was laced with fear as she saw you against the wall. After seeing you leave when the boys had started to fight she seemed to piece together an idea of what had happened to you and went to check on you. You didn’t look up when you heard her you couldn’t bring yourself to do it. What would she think of you now? A weak girl troubled by her past? A pathetic excuse of a person? A waste of space? She stepped towards you to try and comfort you but you flinched away at the sound of her footsteps.

“Please,” you sobbed out, ”Please leave me alone,” you begged, “Please don’t hurt me,” you croaked out before glancing at her feet to see where she was.

And when you told me the whole story I felt like throwing up

“Y/n,” she softly whispered, “Its me Nat. I’m not going to hurt you I promise.” You looked up slowly to see the spy through your tear filled eyes.

“Nat?” your voice shakily asked.

“Yeah it’s me. Can I come closer to your?” She watched as you tensed up before nodding at her request, your eyes meeting hers.

I can see it on your face it was rough Left a bad taste on your tongue

She slowly walked towards you and crouched next to you so you could see where she was without raising your head too much. “Hey its ok Y/n,” she cooed causing you to relax, “I’ve got you now. Your safe.” She repeated the phrase again and again till your sobs turned to whimpers and your body wasn’t shaking as much. “Can I touch you?” she whispered scared if she spoke too loud you would feel scared again. You weakly nodded and she gently cupped your face with her hands and wiped away the tears on your face.

And she didn't even take any drugs She would rain all day Couldn't wait for her sun to shine

You looked into her green eyes expecting to see disappointment or even disgust but all you saw was love and care. You hesitantly reached forward with your hands, wanting to hold her close and find comfort in someone but you stopped. You didn’t want to cross any boundaries with her as you thought it was bad enough that she was seeing you like this. Picking up on what you wanted, she carefully moved her hands around your shoulders and pulled you into her lap. She held you close and tightly as you started to cry into her neck. You murmured apologies against her skin until she told you it wasn’t your fault. You stayed quiet after that and just held onto her. She didn’t realise how much you needed her but she was happy to stay with you through it all.

And you made it shine There when she cried, you saved her life

#natasha #marvel fanfiction #natasha romanoff #natasha romanov #natasha x reader #natasha x y/n #comfort #hurt/comfort #tw abuse #child abuse #marvel cinematic universe #marvel fanfic writer #marvel fic #marvel fandom #natasha x you #panic attack

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ieatangstforbreakfast · 7 months

Text

Pairing ೃ⁀➷ Earth 42! Miles Morales x Fem! Reader

Summary ೃ⁀➷ Lovers have secrets of their own, no matter how much they come to trust each other, whether it be a past mistake or an unspoken trauma. For you and Miles, however, your secrets came in the form of hidden identities— one being a masked vigilante, and the other a mastermind.

Genre ೃ⁀➷ Forbidden love, mutual pining, eventual angst♡

Tags ೃ⁀➷ Both are artists, reader is from a very wealthy family, both are living double lives, underaged smoking, reader is female and uses she/her pronouns, forbidden love (ish?), swearing, daddy issues, mommy issues, reader is unhinged, both are mentally unstable, lots of flirting.

Author's Note ೃ⁀➷ Chapters are a bit rushed, sorry bout that 😭 hope u enjoy tho

Chapter 1: Behind the chain

Warning ೃ⁀➷ Profane language, underaged smoking, mention of death, horrible Spanish. Also, I don’t live in America so idrk how people talk there, so please bear with me.

FIC MASTERLIST

Next Chapter

“Hello? Yeah, I’m at practice.”

As your feet hit the ground, the chain link fence shutters from the release of your weight— a sigh escaping your lips as you pull your phone up closer to your ear. The sound of your aunt's nags echo from your phone, bellowing across the abandoned subway and overpowering even the sound of your boots hitting the damp ground. It was shrill, her voice. Like a fork being dragged down a piece of fine china. Activating the flashlight of your phone, you swiftly slip your head out of your hood, the new spot now staring back at you like an empty canvas— devoid of life and color. It’s tragic.

As you trudge down the narrow space, your senses begin to process the stench of the horror movie-like scenery. You could heard the pipes’ leaking going along with your aunt’s ongoing lecture about something you couldn’t recall— somehow distracting you from your search.

But what certainly made you uneasy was the chill.

You hated the cold. You hated the way it’d ice your feet, dry your skin, restrict your clothes, and clog your nose. Though ironically, autumn was the season you found most enjoyable. Most of the nostalgia you bore came from the sight of those scarlet leaves— the smell of pumpkin spice, your mother’s old scarves, and the earthly rich tones of orange and red. It’d been so long, though, since your last happy memory in the season.

Nowadays, the nights are just longer, and the days shorter.

Soon enough, you stop before a tall, white wall, making you gasp as though you’d just won the lottery. Only then you started bidding your farewells to your aunt, who was beyond exasperated with your hurried adieu. Shoving the gadget down your pocket, your backpack falls right off your shoulder with a small thump, eyes still glued onto the blank space.

You make your way towards one of the seats, settling down your stuff while slipping your vape out the crevices of your sleeve and taking a slow puff— the taste of peppermint flourishing through your lips and covering up the stench of whatever was rotting in the railways.

"You're early." A familiar, sarcastic growl emits from the shadows. You turn around as the light from your phone blinds him, making him wince.

“I missed you.” You playfully answered.

The familiar gleam of hazel blinks and stares right back at you, the same stoic stare narrowing from your comment.

“Sure you did.” He huffs.

In the back of your mind, the same phrase bellows.

Well, well, well. If it ain’t Miles Morales.

It was one night, two months ago, when the two of you first met. You were an utter mess, and so was he— and it just so happened that beneath all that rain, the two of you found each other at the right time, at the right place. Supposedly.

The two of you bonded in loneliness and art. It was almost poetic, especially knowing that the two of you were anything but good for each other.

But you believed that that’s what’s great about life— the reckless things, and betting whatever you have on the line, for a taste of something thrilling. Miles knew how to pull on your strings, and the idea of being understood was still new to you. Still, whenever you do find yourself in the comfort of Miles Morales, you can’t help but ask yourself:

Who will we be to each other?

How will we change each other’s lives after this?

You couldn’t quite tell if it was your gut warning you, or your anxiety just being a little shit, but you knew the time to hear the answers was drawing near. You had no idea whether the possibility mortified you or not.

One thing for certain though, was that you knew you wanted him, and you were willing to take the risk to see him over and over again.

Miles took a step closer, his height towering over you like a tree. With a single finger, he maneuvers your flashlight away from his face with a light push.

"Get that shit away from my face."

“Awe, but I wanna see that pretty face of yours.”

“Stop.”

Cat and mouse was your usual dynamic. Though you couldn’t quite pinpoint who the cat was.

He clicks his tongue, moving away from you to head over somewhere else. A few seconds later, the power suddenly lights up and brings the subway back to life. Miles stood by the power switch, staring right at you as if to examine your reaction.

You straightened your lips and raised your brows.

"Well, you should've done that sooner."

He lazily shrugged his shoulders, approaching you once more yet with more meticulous steps. "Wanted to scare ya." He cooly confessed, earning nothing but another chuckle.

"If you wanted to scare me, don’t look so pretty."

Said pretty boy furrowed his brows, making you grin wider.

"Ay, díos. You're..." For a short moment, he thinks of how to complete the sentence.

You hum. "I'm what?"

".. so fucking unbearable."

"Awe, I missed you too." You smiled in a sickly sweet way while placing a hand over your heart. That certain sort of thrill began thumping inside you again, an unfamiliar excitement that got you staring right at him mindlessly with that stupid look on your pretty face. As Miles replied with silence, you shrugged and pulled the mod up your tinted lips— blowing the smoke away from his face. Only then, you gestured it towards him.

"Want a hit?"

"Nah." He dryly replies. "That's your first step to a rehab, y'know."

A low laugh exits your lips, taking another hit while slowly walking around. "With how fucked up I am, I'm bound to end up in either jail, a rehab, or a mental institution— so," You snap your fingers. "I'm just gonna enter all three of them."

Miles looks at you, horrified.

"M’just kidding. Don't you think I look hot while doing it, though?"

He peels the horrified stare away from you, instead choosing to kneel before your backpack, unzipping the damn thing as though it were his.

"What'chu got?" He asks, a certain twang in his voice that lightened you up. You head over in less than a second, grinning stupidly like a little kid in search of favor. You pull the plastic bag out of your backpack, waving it over his face.

"Only the best for you." You wink. "I just kindly borrowed these from my school's art club."

Receiving the bag from your grasps, Miles pulls out the newly bought spray paints. He furrows his brows at the sight of the bold fifteens printed on the bottom of each bottle, a tag left as if to brag. "Kindly borrowed, huh?" He skims over the bottle, evidently impressed. "Fifteen dollars per bottle? That’s a whole heist right there.”

“I literally just snatched it off the cabinet.”

“You must go to some rich kid’s school or sum. You even look the part.”

He gestures over your well-kept appearance. Your clean boots, pressed jeans, freshly done nails, and fragrant hoodie.

And yet you continued to look at him like he was the crazy one.

"... Miles, it’s called neatness. A basic trait." You stand up, stretching your arms above your head, the ache in your bones subtly easing. "If I did have the money, my art would be in an exhibition, not in an abandoned subway."

He pursed his lips, somewhat convinced. "Touché."

As he unpacks the paints, you stay beside him, watching as he goes through the colors and lines them up in order. You shove your hands down the pockets of your hoodie, humming.

"So what'll you be drawing tonight?"

"I ain’t really sure yet… The Subway logo, maybe." He shrugs, an exhausted groan rolling off his tongue as he stands up. "… I ain't got shit. I'm drained."

"Then why'd you come here?"

"Felt bad for ya."

You smirk. "So you did miss me."

He takes a step back, turning his head the other way. "I sure do find your delusional ass amusing." He mumbled, trying to hide the anxiety gnawing at his throat. You hardly notice it, as you were too busy staring at the empty wall, but Miles was uneasy. Uneasy in a way that he was desperate to hide it.

"At least I’ve got an ass." You airily snap back, silence following like an awkward stench. "Did you bring your sketchbook with you, by the way?"

He then proceeds to go through his jacket, eyes widening from the realization. "Ah, shit. I did... Not."

"Awe." You blandly answered, pulling out your own from the pocket of your bag. It was small, convenient, almost like a notepad. "Well, I've got mine here." You toss it over, which he successfully catches. "They're not exactly as good as yours, but you can skim through the pages to find some inspiration."

The pages spin from the flip of his fingers. Tens of concept art, a few unfinished sketches, and some dabbling in watercolor appeared before him in a flash. As he goes through the pages, you take the moment to have a momentary smoke, straying not so far away just so he wouldn't inhale any of it. The nicotine eased you as it normally did, though now that you were looking at this pretty boy before you, you couldn't help but ponder about quitting. Just for him. Just for the sake of him.

Though the feeling the nicotine often brought you was addicting, his presence hit you harder than any other drug, affecting your system in a way that made your stomach whirl. He was like your favorite cup of coffee— the strongest coffee to ever linger in your presence. Strong enough to appear on a drug test.

It was damning.

Dangerous even.

As the page flips again, Miles freezes at the sight. You take the gadget away from your lips, approaching him immediately as he huffs.

"... Huh."

Bursting in neons of magenta and violet was the sketch you made of a certain vigilante.

"Oh, don’t mind that." You mumble. "That's just some random sketch."

He brings the paper closer to his sights, marveling at your talent. The markers and the ink, mirroring the image of a cat on the run. His pretty lips part, mouth hanging agape as he asks. "You know this guy?"

A hero of the streets, some sort of final pillar carrying the weight of New York's safety on his broad shoulders.

"Well, I've seen him— Prowler, from the news. I thought he looked pretty cool."

Prowler, a name all too familiar to you. How could you not know he was? A man hiding behind an iron mask, a digital purple hologram over the metals, making his silhouette mirror a panther’s. The man was all your father recently growled about, the memory of the heavy morning still engraved into your mind. You can almost sketch it out— The stench of his tobacco, the shrill of his angered voice, and the image of your poor housekeeper silently brushing some broken shards into the dustpan. You remember sitting by the dining table, solemnly choking on your breakfast as you forcibly shoved it down your throat.

Eyes downcast and hands shaking.

"You think he's cool?" Miles' voice tears you apart from the memory. He sounded almost elated, like a child in search of praise.

"Yeah, I'd always wanted to be a vigilante, fuck—" The vape rolls off your tongue unconsciously. "Like, my life is so damn boring, but at the same time, I've got too many responsibilities to handle so I can't do the things I like. But hey, that's life, I guess."

"If you've got too many responsibilities, then what the hell are you doing here? It's like midnight r'now, damn."

"I kinda told my aunt I had practice for band."

"You're in a band?"

"…. No." You deadpan. "That's the reason why I'm here, man."

He snapped the sketchbook shut, sighing as he plucked out the red and purple spray paints from the line. "God, you'd be one hell of a headache if I ever had a kid like you."

"Woah, slow down, sweetie, you're already talking about kids and you haven't even taken me out to dinner yet." You tease, teeth nibbling onto your lower lip as you watch him crumble. He straightens his lips, forcefully holding back a smile.

"… Shut that mouth for me, would ya?" He shot back. "Just shut up."

"Oo, make me."

He pops the lid off the red paint, the sound of a nickel ball being shaken up in a metal can soon following. Without even an ounce of hesitation, he curtly sprays the paint over your sleeve, earning a gasp from you. You quickly snatch the neon pink can and start spraying back, the chemical smell wafting over your nostrils as the sound of your giggles echoed down the halls. A minute later and the both of you began drawing your new piece while being drenched in paint.

"Hey, pretty boy.”

Miles instinctively turns to look at you, as though he prided himself in the nickname.

"I need to do the top part, can you boost me?" You ask, voice muffled from the towel pulled over your nose.

Maybe it was the exhaustion, but he agreed without making a sound.

He kneels, tapping on his thigh, gesturing you to take your step. Taking off your shoes, you cautiously climb over, feeling his hands brush against your calves, almost as if he was readying his stance to catch you just in case you fall. Initially, the pose seemed to be serving you well, but when your ankles started shivering, your hand latched onto his head, gripping gently in panic. Miles, who was, of course, caught off guard, began shaking. You finally took a step down.

"Fuck." You whispered. "Can you do it?"

"Hol' on."

"I think you just need to like, tiptoe a bit and—"

"Be patient."

And you did just that.

He stretches out his toes in an attempt to reach for the top, but he fails miserably. Miles then turned to you, bearing the pout of a frustrated child.

"... Ya already know what to do, right?"

"Mm, yeah."

An irrational thought crosses his mind, and it battles against his rationality like a civil war within the confines of his head. A second later, his lone finger signals you to come closer. You do so, and he looks up at the unfinished crown.

"I'm gonna carry you, a'ight?"

"What?" You blurt out. "Y-You don't have to—"

"Just balance yourself." He skips past your rant. "And you better do it well."

Before you could even intervene, he's down and offering you his shoulder. Hesitantly, you position yourself. Looking over at you, Miles skims over your face in search of approval. When your hand shakily makes its way over his other arm, Miles cautiously wraps his palm over the side of your knee, hoisting you up like a trophy he’d just won.

"You okay?" He asks.

"Y-yeah. Just— yeah." You stumble over your words, raising your hand over to start painting.

You could feel it tingling in your bones. Skin deep, rotting within the confines of your flesh, insecurity at its highest peak. And it shut you up. Miraculously, as Miles would say it. Your weight, your body, your own figure frightened you. It would be a lie for Miles to claim that he hasn’t noticed. But he stood tall, hardly showing an ounce of any struggle— which comforted somehow.

He was pretty strong, stronger than you first thought.

As you painted, Miles stood there in silence. Trying his best to focus on his breathing.

But the softness of your palm atop his shoulder, and the growing warmth of his own over your waist. Miles desperately tried to ignore growing warmth burning his cheeks. He resisted the urge to dig into the softness of your waist, and yet it remained like a taunt— allowing only his nails to grip over your shirt, the thin barrier over your skin. It seemed almost vulgar, how his hand was beneath your hoodie, gripping as though you were his favorite plush. How his wrist was pressed against the curve of your hip. Then and there, within the span of five minutes, the silhouette of your body was forever engraved into his senses, his mind, and his touch.

But no one spoke of it.

"... You done?" He groaned.

"In a bit, hol' on."

You thought he'd start complaining about your weight, but he didn't.

You were somewhat relieved, but at the same time, it flustered you.

And when the little scene ended, you and Miles stood there, backs pressed against the wall as you stared at your new masterpiece. You looked over the chemical stains on your sleeves, glancing at him. "This jacket's pretty expensive, y'know. It cost me like fifteen grand."

His face twisted in disgust. "You'd buy a jacket like that? In this economy?”

"It's a capitalist world we live in."

"No shit."

The two of you share a small laugh, evidently exhausted from the whole art process. It wasn't all that much, but it was based on one of your many doodles during class. The cursive that spelled out Stay Out was painted in an intimidating shade of red, its borders tainted in white and black— a crown of thorns resting above the text. It seemed like a warning, an open threat. Crafted by frustration, but upon its finish, you were eased.

"Next time, we should do something that says 'Eat the rich' or 'Vive la revolución.'" Miles suddenly suggested, jazzing his fingers comedically. You click your tongue. "We might get shot, man.”

“With all that smoking you do, you’ll wither away before the bullet even manages to get you.”

You raised your brows. “Okay, and?”

Miles scoffs at your ridiculous reply, but for a moment he thinks about it— some sort of plan in his mind. Sooner or later, he soon gently raises his palm without a word. You stare at his hand confusingly, “What?” you then asked of him. The boy then gestured over his lips with his fingers shaped like a v, imitating the act of smoking. “Lemme try, at least once.”

“… You’re kidding.”

“I’m being for real, ma, just let me try it once.”

You think about rejecting his request, but the curiosity had you fishing out your e-cigarette in less than a second.

“Okay, but if you die, I’m not paying for your damn ambulance bill.”

“Just uber me to the damn hospital.”

Miles then looks at it, glaring holes into the pen-shaped gadget as though he were waiting for it to speak. After considerably taking his time, he plucks it out your palm and starts a slow sip, the collision of the nicotine and the flavor flooding his tongue as the smoke enters his system. When the heat creeps in, however, he bursts out into a coughing fit.

You snatch the gadget away from his grasp as he groans.

“Careful.”

"What the fUCK—, ain't that s'pposed to calm you down?—" He slams his hand against the center of chest in an attempt to ease his lungs.

"… Did you fucking swallow the smoke or what?" You sigh while taking a sip, the smoke smoothly exiting your lips.

"... You know what? You are definitely gonna die early."

"Oh, darling, don't threaten me with a good time."

“Pu—” He coughs a few more times. “Puta, I almost died there.”

You take your palm and began rubbing small circles behind his back. “You shouldn’t do the shit I do, even if I look hot doing it.”

“Ain’t nobody told you that.”

“… Why’d you wanna smoke anyway?”

“I just wanted to know why you keep doing that.” He groans, staring at the pen in your fingers. “I mean— it’s unhealthy as fuck, hardly tastes good, and it’ll kill you the ugliest way possible. So why do it?”

You lower the pen as though your long-lost conscience re-entered your body.. “… I don’t know really.” You mumbled half-heartedly. “I think it’s what calms me down the most…? I don’t know.”

“… You don’t have, like, normal hobbies?”

“The fuck— of course, I do.” You swiftly shot back. “I just don’t have the time to do them.”

“Then what do you do at home?”

You blink.

“What— What do I do at home?” You repeat, thinking of it to yourself. “That’s a good question, what do I do at home?… I do chores, I study a lot. I-I take care the house.” Take care of the house? Yeah, shit I ain’t Mirabel Madrigal. As your mind short circuits, from a mile away, you could already guess his reply.

“I do that too, dumbass.”

You click your tongue. “.. It’s complicated. The time I usually have for myself is when I’m outside, that’s why I lied that I took up band for extra credit.”

You smoothed out the details of your life, picking out a few small details that were definitely not all that important.

"Is that why you're here?"

"Yeah.”

The boy curved his lips into a slight frown.

“I mean,” You shift closer, sighing as you palm the back your neck. “Sometimes, places like these are better than my own home."

"Places like an abandoned subway?"

“You make it sound like I’m homeless.”

“That’s what it sounds to me.”

"... It’s just.." You run your fingers through your hair, eyes glued onto the ceiling above. "I feel more at home in an abandoned subway more than my own house.”

Miles hummed. "… I'd always thought home would be more of a person," He tilts his head. "Rather than a place."

The silence was deafening, but this time, nothing was urging you to fix it— because there was nothing in need of fixing. You were comfortable, weirdly enough, as you never really found comfort in utter silence.

“It’d be nice to be.. Someone’s home.” You couldn’t help but utter those cheesy words. “I think I’d make a great home.”

Miles fiddled with the hem of his hoodie, holding back the words that echoed in his mind.

Yeah, you’re doing great.

Instead, what slips out of his mouth was: “How the fuck are you gon’ be a home? You’re a whole haunted house.”

“Oh, fuck you.” You roll your eyes. “If I’m a haunted house, you’re a rental where all the drive-by shootings happen.”

“Okay, what the fuck.”

“When you go low, I go LOWER.”

In the end, the two of you simply bursted into laughter, sinking down to the floor to take a seat. Another hour passed and so did a hundred topics. They flew by like the autumn leaves, leaving the both of you unconsciously huddling close for warmth beneath the large scarf you brought. Two birds of one feather, one nest. Easy conversations, light laughs, and genuine interest.

Even when the conversation grew darker, the two of you infinitely felt cosy enough to confide in one another. Especially when Miles spoke about his father.

You listened well, yet there was this ball stuck in your throat that you couldn’t quite swallow. A heaviness in your heart, a stiff feeling in your throat. However, your ears were welcoming. His tone was grieving, but his words resonated with acceptance.

"He used to drive me every morning to school... We'd fight over the pettiest things, and god, I hated it, but looking back, it was better then." He buried half his head into his arms. "I'd rather have him annoying me than have him not annoying me at all."

The words hit you like a truck, leaving you defenseless. In a moment, your walls crumble as these words crawl out your mouth. "... Sometimes, when we're with someone, you can't help but wish they'd leave you alone, but when they're gone, only then you'll realize how much you can't live without them."

Though your words were meant for Miles, you knew damn well that they were also for you.

"... There's some truth to that, I guess."

"Does that mean that you'd miss me when I'm gone?" You tease.

Your gentle gazes collide, and eventually, you see that Miles had softened entirely.

"... Maybe."

“.. Maybe?” You repeat his reply. “.. Should I annoy you more then?”

“You’re annoying enough as you are.” He huffs, pulling his knees to his chest. “I hate you so much.”

“Sure you do.”

You lean against his shoulder. “Hate me all you want. I’ll pretend to believe you.”

A light chuckle emits from his lips, but as it fades, he turns his head, burying his nose in the scent of your hair. You were fragrant, and it was addicting. Slowly, he shuts his eyes and basks in your scent.

Then he called out your name softly.

You hum, looking up at him— the inches between you closing in, cold breaths like white smoke intertwining. His cold fingers dance atop your own.

“What?” You whisper.

His lids were heavy, gaze switching between the pool of your eyes and the plush of your lips.

Then and there, you knew.

But something screamed at you in the back of your mind.

We can’t.

Ring. Ring. Ring.

And you pulled away before your lips could even meet.

"Shit." You cuss, clumsily pulling the phone out of your pockets. Your hands frantically scramble to answer the call, the look of Miles' defeated stare stinging the corner of your eye. "Hello?" You began, hearing the chauffeur's voice ask back. "Ma'am, where are you?"

Your fingers press the side of your phone, lowering the volume.

“We're currently clearing up the room right now. Can you please wait about thirty more minutes? Thanks."

As the call ends, you frantically head off to start cleaning up. Trying to evade whatever had just happened— at least, you try to. It invaded your mind and heart, left you breathless and unsteady.

You and Miles began picking up the bottles, shoving it inside the plastic. You then flung the strap of your backpack onto your shoulder, holding the plastic out to him. "You can have it."

Confusion was scribbled all over his face.

"Didn't you steal that from your school's art club?”

You look up, thinking about it for a moment before shrugging. "It’s their problem, not ours." You grin.

Miles shakes his head in feigned disapproval. "Tsk tsk tsk, eres una chica tan mala."

"Don't start, the only Spanish I know's from Dora."

"Que?"

"Queso."

You shove the plastic into his arms. "No hablo Español, lo siento." Was all you managed to form out of the past few weeks you started learning Spanish. You threw a hand in the air, waving him a fast farewell while pivoting your heel to leave.

“Can’t I walk you home?” A suggestion, and not a demand for the first time, Miles insists “It’s dark as fuck outside, and you might get.. Y’know.”

For a moment, you pause to laugh.

“Are you worried about me?”

He nods. “I am.”

“I— wait, what?”

He took a step further. “I am worried about you. It’s ten o’clock. I think I should take you home.”

Miles looked at you in a way you’ve never seen before. It was unfamiliar, or maybe you just weren’t good at paying attention, yet now that it was materializing before you— It overwhelmed you.

It was breaking you open.

You bite your lower lip, shoving your hands in your pockets.

“… I-I don’t know, I don’t think my dad would like that very much.”

“And I’m sure your dad wouldn’t like the idea of his lil’ girl getting hurt.”

There he goes again, towering over you, his cocky eyes never once leaving your face. Lil’ girl my ass, you can’t help but think. I’m tall, asshole. You just so happened to be taller.

“I’ll walk you home.” He reiterates. Now it’s an announcement, not a proposal. “You can tell me to leave when we’re near. I just need to make sure you’re okay.”

“… Miles,” The way his name rolls off your tongue had him weak, and you couldn’t even tell. “.. Okay, fine— But, only up until the Gristedes down the block. Until then, you go home, alright?”

Your voice was too soft, too mellow. It made his breath hitch, made his neck tense in this already cold weather.

“Aight.”

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whoishotteranimepolls · 1 month

Text

Fandom observation nicknames and funny tags: Part One Piece

Okay, one piece fandom it's your turn and I'm going to highlight your creativity. Again this is not meant to shame or call anyone out. I am genuinely impressed with the creativity and you guys made me laugh. So again in my opinion these were too good just to be lost in the tags or in the anonymous messages, several you sent me. So expand post at your own risk. This one is unhinged

* updated as of April 6th with more tags and new characters

I have mentioned this before, but for some reason that is beyond me. One Piece fandom you guys refer to your characters as daddy and mommy (And it's in a kinky way) way more than any fandom. I think I should just start with the list of characters that have been labeled as such before I go into the creative names for individual characters. Because trust me who makes the list and who doesn't is actually funny.

One piece Daddy's: Shanks, Mihawk, Buggy, Sir Crocodile, Benn Beckman, Killer, Sanji, Rayleigh, Roger, Doflamingo, Rosinante/Corazon, Katakuri, Ivankov, Arlong, Yamato, Marco, Izou, Smoker, Garp, Sengoku, Zeff, Kuzan/Aokiji, Kizaru, Fujitora & Akainu

When it comes to the One piece Mommy's: Nico Robin, Boa Hancock, Charlotte Smoothie, Charlotte Galette, Charlotte Amande, Vice admiral doll, Ivankov & Crocodile

Now due to popular demand the new category the One Piece Babygirls: Ace, Buggy, Sanji, Luffy, Sabo, Zoro, Ussop, Marco, Crocodile, Doflamingo, Kid, Law, Bepo, Killer, Mihawk, Shanks, Perona, Yamato, Kuzan/Aokiji, Kizaru, Fujitora, Rosinante/Corazon, Katakuri, Smoker, Robin, Nami, Vivi, Jinbe, Hatchan, Roger, Zeff

Now when it comes to individual characters there have been some interesting standouts but I'm just going to do some highlights because you guys have so many characters

Ace: "Depressed sunshine orphan boy with daddy issues", "ace has that grungy line cook riz you know he lays legendary pipe", " he got goofy older brother swag", "Beautiful butch dyke wife", "Ace my greasy fire narcoleptic king", "The narcoleptic babygirl", the greasy crusty desert rat. "He would be worth the burn risk", "my favorite fire donut"

Arlong: "Y'all are too afraid to recognize the truth too afraid of his drip, his swagger, his saw nose, to admit that he's hot also live action arlong?!?!the only sexy fishmen," "arlong looks like a toxic florida frat bro," "I legitimately think there's something wrong with me sometimes due to how bad I want arlong the rancid personality enhances the appeal,"

Akainu: "The world's next top authoritarian," magma Daddy, "He makes donuts and I still love him"

Ben Beckman: Dilf, "retirement blorbo", "Benn Beckman is a religious experience", "to me? beckman is the character with the most sex appeal ever. raw sex appeal. I would [redacted] if I met this man. just sayin", "He can ruin my life any day of the week", "Also lest we forget pre TS Beck a++ quality right there I just want someone smart who will also hit a guy with a gun is that so much to ask for", "This p**** wants what she wants and its always going to be Benn “back breaker" Beckman", husband material, "men are like wine in order to get a good vintage you want the one that's aged", he had that sexy blind and reckless loyalty about him", "Beckman is a fine aged vintage of wine as men should be", "DEAR GOD the things I WOULD DO to that man LIKE [redacted] and [redacted] because [redacted] and [redacted]", "idk how to explain it but he's so wife"

Buggy: Assigned clown at birth, walking disaster, "my pathetic sniveling wet clown", my Beloved, "he has blue hair and pronouns", Failboy, "the skrunkly clown", "my clown wife", "he has that fail boy cringe", "buggy has the stronger levels of foolishness and fumbling his way to success", "the cringefail clown extraordinaire buggy", "he is silly and pathetic like a bisexual divorced dad",

Crocodile: desert daddy, Babygirl, "He's like if tony soprano was trans", crocodaddy, crocomommy, Big titty mob boss, He's 8ft tall and I would let he ruin me,"Mr. Sandman", "the human sandcastle," "literally has sand in his britches", "son of a beach", "World's Most Expensive Sand Sculpture", "he's got 99 problems and his hook is one of them", "casino blorbo", "I would subject myself to sandburn any day for THE SIR FUCKING CROCODILE Anakin Skywalker don't go here because I WOULD love sand if it was like 8 feet tall and had a voice like that absolutely rabid he could stick his sand in so many places and I'd thank him crocodile is one of those guys i wanted to hate so bad and then went actually no i want this guy carnally Crocodile has some weird rizz goin on and i need to climb that sandcastle", "I'm so sorry but I need to eat crocodile's pussy", "With Sir Crocodile you can have Sex on the Beach. Literally. Plus he owns a casino so you could probably sip on the cocktail version too...while getting some cocktail.", "mafia vibes and style", "crocodile's got style. class. you will be wined and dined in the most exquisite way you can imagine", "He's got DADDY vibes", " One handsome mafia boss",

Dragon: "the revolutionary scrungle dragon",

Doflamingo: "Dofy's got some wierd (potentially fun) energy but he would NOT treat you well he'd be awful", "The psychopathic pimp on a shoestring budget. Seriously dude, San Diego Zoo called and they want their flamingos back. That coat is so last season.", "fashion travesty", "Doflamingo dresses like an eye test and will probably steal your credit card by the end of the night not because he needs the money. because he finds it hilarious", "Mingo is just a spoiled frat fuckboy who's too full of himself to be interested in anyone/anything else", "a balding white man", "evil florida man my beloved they dont understand you",

Fujitora: "fujitora yes plz that like calm collected way he fights makes me KNOW hed take care of his partner real good", "have you seen how he slurps his noodles? I just know he could eat me out in ways I could never imagine"

Eustass Kid: Pirate punk, "He's a sopping wet loser", "a man wearing eyeliner and nailpolish is by definition hotter", "my scrungy little fuck", he would also probably give me an STD and it would still be worth it

Franky: " Three words light up nipples"

Jinbe: "I wanna suck on the webbing between his fingers", does anyone else contemplate how soft Jinbe's tits are to lie on or is that just me?

Killer: "big tiddy murder boyfriend",

Marco: Bird daddy "Mr. Dr. Emotionally-Stable Scrungles", "surfer hippy electric blue glasses wing flapper", "DR. MMMMM", Fineapple

Luffy: "l am in the minority here I need luffy's gomu gomu no [REDACTED]"

Mihawk: The Vampire Pirate, Goth Dad, the sword father, Pirate Dracula, the big titty goth husband, "I think mihawk would treat you right. i want mihawk to treat me right", "I love his gay wine uncle energy", "I appreciate that he dresses Like That everywhere extra ass bitch", "hot vampire cowboy pirate", Morticia Addams, "Mihawk oozes 'step on me' energy",

Robin: "she has irresistible weird girl rizz", "big tiddy archaeologist gf"

Rosinante: "my insane clumsy tall dilf", "wife material", "he has cringefail dad swag", "rosi is everything to me actually. I would climb that tall clumsy king like a tree", "the klutzy mime", "he has that pathetic depressed clown vibe thats irresistible", "He's the epiome of strong but silent, he's the asshole with a heart of gold, he has everything", rosinante is hot tho and his clumsiness somehow enhances it", "I've said it before and I'll say it again I WOULD climb that clumsy king like a tall tree want to kiss him until his silly jester makeup is all over me too", "I am loyal to the guy who actively sets himself on fire",

Sanji: fail wife, Cooking Daddy, "I NEED sanji to f*** me to tuesday and make me dinner before and breakfast after", "The man will feed you the best meal you've ever had and genuinely compliment something about you", "His fighting style is 'kick the problem until it goes away' and he chugs Love Women Juice", "he can cook and fight and he's damn fine while doing both"

Shanks: Margaritaville Himbo, "Dilflicious", "the deadbeat malewife wifi user", "I am a whole lesbian but if there were a butch girl version of these men I would let shanks ruin my life", "favorite guy in the local frat" He's probably a walking STD risk but he's hot and I'm a slut that has a thing for red heads, "the unwashed bitch", "LOOK AT THAT SCRUFF ON SHANKS the three scars on his face that smile", "my Scrungle drunk bastard",

Silvers Rayleigh: "Silver Fox Rayleigh", "he's old but he can get it", "Rayleigh has that 'your daughter calls me daddy too' energy", "he's a gilf who married a literal queen", "rayleigh has spent his entire life SERVING CUNT", "Raiyleigh has that gilf energy despite having no kids", I need him in so many different ways I cannot list", "he has my heart around his little finger", "Rayleigh makes me howl like a dog I swear", "I mean come on look at his HAIR his GLASSES that incredible STARE even his wrinkles are hot", "Rayleigh got the 50 year anniversary in the bag idk why you would go for anything else", "helloooo????? Rayleigh is the hottest old guy in one piece please", "I would let rayleigh ruin me and I would thank him", "Rayleigh to me is more like a really smooth mead"

Trafalgar Law: "DR. Slut", "He has them tattoos which makes me go fucking feral", "A stoner greasy boyfailure", "the edgy emo orphan boy with daddy issues", 'My tried stressed bitch"

Zoro: "The President of the strawhat's local big titty committee", "The king of boobs", "Beautiful butch dyke wife", I would probably get an STD but it would be worth it, "his stupidity and gay attire make him very appealing", canonically the biggest tits in one piece, He got them big naturals, "Big honkabadonkaroo hoinkybadinkirs massive man tiddies Zoro", "Zoro oozes 'I won't let anyone hurt you' energy"

Zeff: "He will wine and dine me before leaving me lovingly bedridden the day after. And he actually takes care of his kid", "Zeff is honorable and can cook and clean and bathes and almost dies for a kid that's not his and then adopts him" He's got line cook energy. If you know you know

I definitely know I'm going to have to add to this since there's so many more characters and you all are definitely going to get more creative after seeing the list.

And a few observations. Why did Sanji make the daddy list and not Zoro? Characters that I thought would be short cliff notes turned into some of the longest sections And characters I thought would have some of the longest sections turned into some of the shortest ones. And I still think this was worse theyn JJK I just forget how unhinged this fandom can be because your unhinged craziness is dispersed amongst so many characters. And I haven't decided which fandom's next.

I now have my answer on why Sanji made the list and not Zoro. Overall the fandom is just thirsty so very thirsty. Hence the many updates to this list

#poll analysis #fandom trends #fandom #fandom culture #not a poll #one piece #nicknames and funny tags

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kookslastbutton · 9 months

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Too Late to Dream ༓ jjk (m) l ch. VI

✑ Summary: You did it. You married your college professor. You even bought a house together. Against all odds, everything had fallen into place. But after two years of marriage, you begin feeling something was missing. You want a baby but your husband can’t say the same.

Pairing: economics professor!jungkook x fem!artist!reader

AU/Genre: angst, smut, fluff, marriage au, age gap, series

Rating: M, 18+

Word Count: 6,192

Warnings: 8-year age gap, mentions of professor-student relationship (oc was a Masters student), kook gets pissed, jk mother is asdhjf!, mommy issues, lots of family drama/in-laws, fighting, manipulative parent, pent-up issues/desires, jk has daddy issues, jk being good hubby to oc, mild sexting, sexual content

Sexual warnings: bl*wj*b, jk c*mes on her t*tt*es, d*rty talk

Now Playing: Make It Right, Tryna Be, Infinity, It Will Rain, Heaven+

A/N: um so this got over 6k which i know isn't amazing but for me its big deal okay?! haha! Anyway Part VI here we go! No flashbacks in this chapter because of ch.V buuut, I have a little gift for you and me. Hope you enjoy!! 💞 also pls vote if youd be so kind 😙

<< ch. V ༓ ch. VII >> | series masterlist

Living in the country for over thirty years, the Jeons were known to be excruciatingly slow and cautious drivers. The town was tiny, roads were narrow, and no one was ever in a rush to get anywhere apart from maybe the farmers market.

Once when Jungkook first got his license he took one hand off the steering wheel and his mother almost had a heart attack, saying it was “reckless of him to put them in danger”. It was from that moment forward that Jungkook always made sure to drive at 10 and 2 or 9 and 3 when his mother was in the car. His father on the other hand didn’t care what he did as long as he didn’t go above 30 mph.

Jungkook was counting his lucky stars when he finally got his own car and the chance to move to the city where he could drive how he damn well pleased–responsibly of course. He had recently finished his Master’s studies and was offered a job as an economist in a major medical corporation. The only catch was that he’d have to relocate to Seoul which ended up being more than fine with him.

His parents moaned and groaned that he wasn’t sticking around but his mind was made up. He moved out of his parent’s tiny town one late June and headed to the city where life moved to a whole new beat.

Ten years later, Jungkook finds himself gripping the steering wheel with two sweaty hands again. Kudos to his parents who have been telling him which way to turn and how fast or slow to go for the past fifteen minutes. He honestly should have picked a brunch spot closer to home to avoid all the madness. Walking would have done them good.

“I’ll never get used to how you drive down here,” Mrs. Jeon grumbles from the back seat. “All these sharp turns and six lanes of traffic going 50-plus miles an hour. It’s a wonder you haven’t all gotten in an accident yet. It’s like I always say, the slower the better. You city folks just don’t get it.”

Jungkook peers in his rearview mirror before signaling to switch lanes. “We can’t afford to go too slow out here Mom. This is a highway and dropping down in speed will cause a safety hazard just as bad, if not worse. Environments are different out here than in the woods.”

As Jungkook merges to the right, Mr. Jeon watches the surrounding cars from the back seat window. “Ah son, son, son!” He hollers and reaches for the ceiling handle.

“What? What happened?” Jungkook asks with panic. He flickers his eyes to the mirror again to spot his father's distress.

Mr. Jeon slowly releases the handle and lets out a lengthy sigh. “It's okay now, we’re good. You did good son. You moved over with so little space I thought you were going to hit the car now behind us."

"I told you it's a mad house out here!" Mrs. Jeon adds, tone thick. Jungkook puts his eyes back on the road in front of him and does his best to ignore the irritation bubbling within him.

"I know what I'm doing," he says. "I've lived here for ten years so can you guys please trust me? And stop with the driving advice and yelling every time I do something."

"We're just trying to help Kookie."

"Well, you're not alright?" The snap in his voice has Jungkook's parents sulking back in their seats in silence. "I want us to get to the restaurant safely and I can't do that when you're both shouting at me! So please just let me do the driving. Thank you."

God, if one more person calls him Kookie in that condescending tone he's going to lose it! Kookie was his childhood nickname but for some reason, it stuck to him like glue until he was friggin' 22 years old. He absolutely hates it and the only person remotely allowed to call him by it is his wife because she makes anything sound like honey to his ears.

The next five minutes are nothing but awkward silence and the sound of tires running on hard cement. Jungkook checks his phone—there's still a good ten minutes left according to the GPS. He moves to turn the radio on to break the eeriness of the drive when an incoming call pops on his car screen.

"Who's that? Who's calling?" Mr. Jeon pipes up.

"It's __." Jungkook hits the answer button. "Hey honey! You're on speaker." He smiles a big, wide grin that says nothing less than he misses you.

"Hi! I'm on my lunch break and thought I'd give you guys a call. I'm stopping at the grocery store tonight, after work. Anything you need?"

“Some booze would be nice!” Mr. Jeon echos and looks at his wife who merely shakes her head. He hasn’t had a drink in twenty years due to his high blood pressure, yet he’s still making the same damn jokes. “Got any Soju? Or maybe Bokbunja?” He chuckles at Mrs. Jeon’s sour face.

Jungkook pays his dad no mind and replies to you. “Uhm….we're low on milk again. I drank the last one yesterday.”

"You went through all those gallon jugs in a week?!" You'd think you'd be used to the amount of dairy your husband packs away but every time, it shocks you as much as the first. You married a milk-lovin’ machine.

Jungkook chuckles. "I'm sorry. I can get them for you if you want. We're on our way to get brunch, then hitting the bookstore for Dad, and after we'll swoop back home. I can pick it up along the way.”

“No need, I’m already going out later so I’ll get it. Anything else?”

“There’s nothing else I can think of. How’s work going?” He’s hoping it’s not hectic given the fact that last week was an absolute sandstorm. He distinctively remembers you coming home with nothing more than tired feet and dark circles under your eyes. He drew you a bath that night.

“Eh, so-so. I have a meeting with my boss later but besides that, it’s the usual. I wish I could have come to brunch with you guys. I feel bad I’m missing it.” Well, you do and you don’t. If Jungkook was planning on talking to his mom about the happenings of last night you wanted to be around for support but it was also a matter that should be between a mother and her son.

“Us too, but we’ll see you ton–shit!” Jungkook slams on the break when he sees he’s about to crash into a black SUV. Everyone’s seatbelts lock at the sudden jerk. “Sorry, sorry!” He checks the mirror to find his parents clinging to their seatbelts.

“Are you guys okay?! Jungkook?!”

He scans all around him to find rows and rows of cars all trying to merge into each other’s lanes. Some are coming from the exit nearby whereas others are trying to squeeze through people in hopes to get ahead.

Dammit, Jungook cruses to himself.

“Yeah, we’re good honey. Everything’s okay but we’ve hit a traffic jam. I’m not sure why since it’s literally 11:40 a.m on a Wednesday but looks like we’re going to be stuck here for a bit.”

“We’d never have this problem at home.” Jungkook hears his mother mumbling under her breath to which his father replies with a nodding of his head. “If it weren’t for all this nonsense we’d be there by now.”

“Absolutely. We’d be there fifteen minutes ago,” his father adds with his hands in the air. “Isn’t there some kind of way you can get around this son, like a shortcut?”

Ah yes, shortcuts on the highway. Why didn’t he think of that? Let him just push the button that says flight mode and–no! Having enough, Jungkook holds his foot on the break and twists his body around to face his parents.

“Alright listen to me right now. This is not Tiny Town where there are a million dirt roads that pop from anywhere and all seem to lead to one other. Everyone drives at least seventy out here and that’s just the way it is because this..." He gestures outside the windshield. "This is what happens! We all get stuck in this congested funnel! But if you two can think of a way to get out of here that doesn’t involve attempting to bulldoze other cars, I’m all ears. Until then we’re going to sit here and talk about the weather because there's nothing else we can do!"

Jungkook looks back and forth between his parents. Mrs. Jeon simply stares outside her window while his dad gives a slow nod in understanding.

"Is it really that bad?"

Jungkook relaxes his body back to face the front when he hears your voice. "Yeah, it's pretty bad __." He lets out a long, exasperated sigh. This is going to be a very long day.

"Nice out today. Mind if I roll down the window?" The traffic hasn't got any better and it was starting to get stuffy in the car. Mr. Jeon desperately needed some fresh air in his face.

"Mhm yeah, go ahead."

"How about some music? Find out what's on the radio will you." He sticks his arm out the window, letting the gentle breeze hit his skin. When the first song blares through the speakers, Jungkook's mother breaks her deafening silence.

"Dear god! What music is this?"

Mr. Jeon immediately perks up. "It's PSY! Turn it up! Turn it up, boy!" Jungkook appeases his father's wishes and turns the knob a few more notches. "Oppa Gangnam Style! Eae eae eae e, sexy lady!"

Hearing his dad singing at the top of his lungs has Jungkook rubbing the side of his head. It's not that he sounded bad but he was singing so loud that everyone around them started pointing, laughing, or rolling up their own windows. "Dad, people are going to get annoyed. Take it down a little."

Deeply immersed in the song, Mr. Jeon continues singing regardless of his son's request. "Op, op, op, op, oppa Gangnam Style!" He starts rocking in his seat which causes a few middle schoolers in the car next to them to pop out their phones.

"Dad!" Jungkook hollers when he notices the kids taking pictures. If doesn't put an end to this now, his father's face is going to be trending all over the internet with god knows what filter.

"Op, op, op, op, on on on on!"

"Dad stop!" He tries again, this time turning the music down. Mrs. Jeon attempts to calm her husband down too, placing a hand on one of his arms but it doesn't take much for it to be ripped out of her grasp. Mr. Jeon ends up nearly whacking his wife in the face due to all his energetic dancing.

"Erotic sexy lady! Oppa Gangnam Sty–hey! Song wasn't done yet!" Jungkook's dad never looked so offended in his life. If he had adjusted his gaze just a few inches to the left he'd see the group of kids, the ones taking photos earlier, giggling to one another. But he was too pissed at his son for crashing his party that it went to the wayside.

"Honey, you were causing a disturbance," Mrs. Jeon says.

"A disturbance? In this traffic jam, I'm the disturbance?" He refuses to believe he's the annoyance when they've been in the middle of a highway, moving at 5 mph for the last hour. PSY has recently become his favorite singer and not enjoying himself would have been an absolute tragedy in his opinion. "It's all of you who should be thanking me for offering some shred of entertainment at times like these."

"The entire population of South Korea is going to be thanking you then." Jungkook creeps forward as soon as the car in front of him moves up a ways. Finally moving again, he hums.

"Hey!" An abrupt voice calls from a slight distance. Two teenage boys pull up in a Jaguar, greasy grins on their faces. "Great singing Grandpa! Really know how to move!" The one in the passenger seat flashes his phone playing a video of Jungkook's dad online.

"Wha–how–What?! You delete that right now!" Mr. Jeon is stunned, tripping over his words at the shock of himself actually being the center of the internet. The video is unexpectedly clear.

"Just ignore them, Dad." Jungkook rolls up all the windows in the car and inches up the best he can to get the teenagers out of direct sight.

"But-but how did they do that so fast? It hasn't even been five minutes yet!"

"It only takes seconds, honey," Mrs. Jeon sighs, realizing her husband has become famous over a re-rendition of a PSY song. Of all things, it had to be that.

"I'm starving."

"Me too."

Jungkook glances at the time–2:40p.m. It's now been three hours of sitting in traffic and they've only moved about ten miles. What on earth is congesting the highway this much?

"Maybe we should take one of these exits." His dad scrolls through the map on his phone. "Says there are a few restaurants down exit 6A."

Jungkook considers the idea. He wants to get off the highway, yes, but so does everyone else. The exit his dad is talking about is off the far right lane which means he's going to need to shove in front of everyone's way.

"You sure it's a good place? Wherever it is you're looking?" The reason why he asks is that his dad is notorious for leading them into the most ruin down places. The last time he was in charge of directions, they ended up in front of an abandoned pizza shop.

Mrs. Jeon takes the phone from her husband's hand and swipes through the photos of a quaint restaurant. "It's not bad," she concludes. "And if it means we can get out of this mess, then I'm with your father on this one."

Two against one. Jungkook turns his signal on and waits for someone to let him over. He earns a few honks when he manages to squeeze his nose over but does his best to give an apologetic wave.

After a few more lane changes he gets in the exit lane. He isn't the only one planning to take exit 6B though, being that there are at least twenty other cars waiting in line.

"Maybe we were better off back where we were. All these people want to get off the same place. If we keep going there's bound to be another exit with far less traffic."

Really? Jungkook feels himself ticking again. After all that shoving to get over here and this is what he gets? No, he's not moving back over. They're going to wait in this stupid lane until it gets them to where they originally agreed.

"We just got here and we're not moving back anywhere. This lane should clear up in less time than it would take to go back on the main highway," Jungkook says. "Also, I probably don't need to clarify this but, we're not going to make it to that bookstore you wanted, Dad."

"It's fine, son. We'll go another day."

Which means tomorrow, Jungkook half grumbles to himself. His parents are here for another day after all and he knows his father well enough to know that "another day" really means the closest day possible.

Despite its size, the restaurant his parents choose is charming with its floor-to-ceiling wood paneling and giant, bay windows. The odd hanging plant is spread throughout the open dining space as well, perfectly setting the mood of serenity.

The restaurant only seems to hold about a dozen people inside, however. So thinking it is best to avoid sitting in an overly crowded space, Jungkook asks for one of the tables outside.

“Oh now this is lovely,” his mother praises, pulling her chair up to the table. Jungkook can’t describe how relieved he is to finally hear something positive after hours of nonstop grumbling.

Mr. Jeon takes a seat next to his wife and across from his son. “I just saw someone get Samgyeopsal and it was huge! Let’s get that to share.”

His enthusiasm is short-lived when the scrunched-up face from his wife says she's not a fan. “That's too much food! We still have to be hungry for dinner so we can eat with __."

"Mom's right," Jungkook agrees reluctantly. "__'s stopping at the grocery store after work so we can prep for dinner tonight. I know traffic slowed us down so we're eating at a weird time but it's better we go with something light."

"Oh well, we can always take some to go! Surely __ will enjoy some beautifully grilled pork!" Jungkook's father is adamant. He wants nothing more than a heavy meal after being stuck in the car all morning.

"__ doesn't like pork Dad. And we all know as soon as we get a whiff of it cooking there's not going to be any leftovers."

"Alright, alright," his dad concedes. "I guess I'll try their bibimbap. What are you having hon?"

Jungkook checks his phone messages while his parents make small talk over the menu. You texted him earlier to see how traffic was holding up and he only able to get back to you minutes ago.

Wifey ❤️ : So I'm guessing you haven't talked to your mom yet?

Jungkook: No, haven't brought it up. She seems fine though with the way she's been acting. It doesn't take much for her to go back to her usual self

Wifey ❤️: Her usual self being...?

Jungkook: You know, really particular.

Wifey ❤️: So she's complaining again. I'm sorry 😞

Jungkook: When I was talking with her on the phone before we left, she was much more careful about what she was saying. I expected it to still be that way now. Must have been a mood.

Wifey ❤️: Sounds like she wasn't sure how you'd be reacting after what happened last night. Maybe she's just reverting to back what she's used to because she's unsure what else to do or say. I'd still try finding a way to talk to her. Does it seem tense?

Jungkook: Yeah, you have a point. But Mom's also had a good way of sweeping things under the rug. It's not tense but it's just uncomfortably normal?

Wifey ❤️: Hmm, strange. And your dad's fine?

Jungkook: Honey...have you been on any social media in the last half hour?

Wifey ❤️: No, why?

Jungkook: Might wanna check. We had a little incident while in traffic. I'm still in shock honestly 😅

Jungkook waits for you to find the video of his dad. He already had the guys blowing up his phone from it so he's surprised none of them at least forwarded it to you.

Wifey ❤️: oh my god! Jungkook what happened?! 😂 I hope you're prepared for your students to be all over this

Jungkook: oh shit, that didn't even cross my mind 😩 also it's not funny honey! Listening to my dad singing eae e sexy lady was traumatizing enough. Now I have to see and hear it every time I pop open my phone or some teen punks show it to me!

Wifey ❤️: Aw Kookie, they're just being kids...try not to overthink. And you know those videos come and go. Your dad will be at the bottom of the chain by next week. Until then keep him away from PSY 😅 But I'm sorry you're having a day, I love you 🥺

Jungkook: I MISS YOU SO MUCH 😭

Wifey ❤️: [sent an image]

Fuck! Jungkook chokes on his spit when he sees a blurry close up of your cleavage. Thankfully his parents are still too occupied by the menu that they didn't notice.

Jungkook: sexy af but this isn't the time to be sexting me baby!

He nearly saves the photo if it weren't for the fact that he already had an album dedicated to very sensual *ahem erotic* photos of you. You had let him take them himself —best motherfuckin' birthday ever.

Wifey ❤️: oh adhjjhj, sorry!! That was an accident. I'm such a klutz. This is what I meant... [sent an image]

"What's going on over there?" Jungkook merely glimpses at the new image before whipping his head up, hearing his mother's, sharp tone.

"It's just __. She's asking about groceries again."

With slightly narrowed eyes, Mrs. Jeon continues. "We're about to order if you're ready."

Dammit. He'll have to reply to you later. Jungkook swiftly pockets the phone. "Okay yeah I'm good to go."

"This is delicious," Mr. Jeon says, patting his mouth with a napkin. "Best bibimbap I've had in a long time."

"That's great Dad." Jungkook stirs his noodles.

"Ah, where's the restroom around here?" He asks the waitress as she walks by. She tells him it's in the restaurant, all the way to the back. Mr. Jeon pushes his chair from the table and excuses himself. "All that broth has me needing to go."

"Yes yes, just go." Why his father needed to explain himself every time he needed to use the restroom is beyond him. Jungkook peers at his mother, taking her time eating her own bowl of noodles–they ended up ordering the same thing. "How is it?" he asks.

"It's good."

"Not too spicy?"

"No, it's mild."

Jungkook gathers more noodles on his chopstick. He freezes halfway when he sees his mother eyeing him intensely. "Everything okay?"

Mrs. Jeon folds her hands in her lap. "It's occurred to me that we still have an elephant in the room. I was hoping we'd be able to talk about it while your father browsed the bookstore. But plans changed."

And here he thought his mother had been playing down last night when really she was biding her time. "You know Dad's gonna be back in like ten minutes right?"

Mrs. Jeon nods. "I know it's not the most convenient of times or places, but I'm afraid if we delay it won't get discussed."

"Okay." Jungkook sets his chopsticks down. "Well...where do you want to start?"

"An apology would be nice." Her voice is mellow but the words are a clear demand rather than an offer. Of course, he wants to apologize to her for all the things he accused her of last night. But he wasn't expecting her to be this forward with it, especially since she was guilty of plenty herself. "I'm waiting Kookie," she coos, taking a sip of water.

Jungkook knits his eyebrows in response, unsure of what he's hearing. His mother looks far too relaxed about this whole thing. He decides to give her the benefit of the doubt. "You're right," he starts. "I'm sorry for what I said last night. I shouldn't have spoken that way and I'm sorry for making you leave. I think you and Dad showing up all a sudden threw me off and I reacted poorly."

Mrs. Jeon cracks a tight smile and reaches for her son's hand. "Thank you, Jungkook. I accept your apology." She gives his hand a squeeze before moving to pick up her chopsticks. "Now that we got that settled let's talk about the reunion. I'm thinking about talking to–"

What....the fuck? His mom did not just glide over this whole issue. She did not just put everything on him. And she did not just bring up that damn reunion again, which he's made very clear he wants nothing a part of. "Is that all you wanted? For me to make my amends with you?"

"What else would there be Kookie?" She scoffs, eyes wide.

"Goddamn it." He struggles to maintain a hushed voice. "Can you please stop calling me that? And what the hell do you mean 'what else would there be'? I'm not trying to put the blame on you but there's a good amount you should be saying to me too."

"What things are you referring to? Don't tell me this is about the reunion again. Look, whatever it is that I said was because I just want to see you more. And no more swearing. You know I don't like that kind of language."

"How can you be like this?" Jungkook can't stop himself. He figured his mom and he would have a better, heart-to-heart than this. It makes his skin crawl that his mother continues to play the victim. "It's genuinely shocking me how....do you even love me?"

Mrs. Jeon pauses at that. "Of course, I love you Jungkook. Why–why would you ask that?" She blinks back the slightest hint of tears forming along the edge of her eyes. Never in a million years did she think her son would doubt something this crucial.

"I feel like–"

"Feel what? What is it?"

"I feel like you care more about what I can do for you than you do me, as your son." Jungkook sniffs. This is a lot harder for him to say than he imagined. "There's been so many times that you've–"

"Don't say this honey! I care about you very much!" She reaches for his hand again but he yanks it away. "What are you trying to tell me?" His mother waits for him to form the rest of the sentence.

Jungkook hesitates to look at her straight on because behind what appears to be concerned eyes is disbelief. She isn't taking any of this seriously. It's written all over her face, tone, and all the way down to the way she's focusing on an answer rather than his inability to comfortably talk to her.

"What have I done so many times?"

"Honestly at this point, what haven't you done?" With an icy glare, Jungkook can't hold himself back anymore. The pot that's been brewing, deep in the darkest parts of him is finally overflowing and it's not going to be pretty to behold. "Do you realize how many times you chose your job, your status, and even your friends over me? And you make Dad go along with literally anything! Is it so horrible for someone to say no to you?!"

The couple next to them shoot uncomfortable looks his way, whispering to each other. Jungkook ignores it and starts counting with his fingers.

"Never once have you ever taken responsibility for showing up uninvited, nagging me about this that, and the other thing, making backhanded comments about my life choice, and most of all pretending our relationship is peachy fine. Well, I'm sorry mom, I'm thirty-four years old and I don't need to live by your rules! Our relationship is barely hanging by a thread and being quite real, it's __ and Dad who are the ones clinging to that thread, making sure it doesn't completely snap."

Mrs. Jeon opens her mouth to interject but Jungkook doesn't allow it to happen. It's not exactly intentional that he's pouring out so much in the middle of people's lunch. Still, he's been shoved over a steep cliff, head first.

"I'm sorry mom, I don't know how many times I need to say it. I don't enjoy any bit of this. It's just been a long stretch of–"

"That's enough! I don't want to hear any more." Mrs. Jeon immediately grabs her purse and twists her neck every which way. "Where's your father? I want to leave."

"Mom I'm trying to talk to you! Why won't you let me talk?"

His mother doesn't reply. She doesn't look at him. It's the silent treatment, Jungkook concludes–it's fucking irritating. "I'm not trying to be hurtful," he says, forcing himself to calm down. "Mom look at me."

She doesn't move.

It only takes seconds for their waitress to near her way up to the table with anxious steps. "I'm sorry to be doing this but unfortunately, we've received a few complaints of a disturbance out here." The young girl clasps her hands. "To ensure all our guests are comfortable we're going to need to ask you to take your conversation elsewhere. I'm really sorry."

Fuck. How embarrassing. Jungkook clears his throat and stands up from his seat. "We understand and are genuinely sorry for the commotion. We'll pay at the front and be on our way. Thank you for waiting our table."

The young girl gives a nervous smile and retreats inside the restaurant. Jungkook makes a note to give her a generous tip.

"Hey, what's going on out here?" Mr. Jeon rushes over, hair blowing over due to the breeze. "I heard there was some inconsiderate party out here airing out their dirty laundry for all to see. I tell you, people these days don't know what privacy means anymore!" He shakes his head and takes a seat.

"Get up Dad we're leaving."

"But I'm not done my–––oh shit." Mr. Jeon clenches his teeth. "You two?"

Mrs. Jeon gets up from her chair, still wordless, and walks towards the parking lot. "I'll get this Dad." Jungkook stops his father from pulling out his wallet. "It is best if you go try to ease Mom. I don't think she'll be talking to me for a while."

Mr. Jeon puts a hand on his son's shoulder. It's his way of offering comfort. "You're mother has made things difficult for you, Jungkook. I'll try getting through to her. In the meantime don't let this eat you up. It's been a long time coming."

Jungkook doesn't get home until quarter past six. The drive home was better than the drive to the restaurant, but hitting the notorious five o'clock traffic slowed them down once more. He also had to drop his parents at their hotel which was no easy task. His mother barely gave him a glance before hopping out of the car. The amount of guilt settling in his gut isn't going away any time soon.

"Hey." Jungkook finds you searching through the kitchen cupboard. "I hope you're okay with spice tonight! I got this really awesome–oh baby what's wrong?" You stop what you're doing when you see your husband come up behind you with sunken eyes. He wraps his larger arms around you, desperately needing your scent.

"I blew it," he croaks. "She's so mad at me."

"I'm sorry Jungkook. I'm sorry I couldn't be there." You turn in his arms to pull him into a full embrace. His nose tickles the side of your neck but you don't laugh. "You wanna tell me?"

Jungkook takes your hand and sits you both on the couch in the living room. "The morning started out rough with three hours of traffic and the two of them in the back seat, telling me where and how I should drive. Then my dad got unexpectedly famous off a PSY song. We finally got to some restaurant about half an hour west of here before 3pm. Everything was going okay until dad went to the bathroom."

"Okay," you say, scooting closer beside him. You rub small circles on his upper back as he leans forward on his spread-apart knees. "What happened?"

"Mom suggested we talk about last night so I said sure." You watch as Jungkook fiddles with his hands. "But she didn't actually care about a conversation or what I had to say. All she wanted, all she expected, was for me to apologize to her so we'd be okay again. It all came out after that and I feel so horrible about it. We ended up getting kicked out of the restaurant too."

"Jungkook..."

"I tried __. I wanted to be patient and to be a good son but she can't even look at me right now." He falls back on the couch, staring at the blank wall in front. "Dad's convinced it was bound to happen."

"You are a good son, Jungkook." You comb a few strands of his soft, ebony hair. He closes his eyes as you do. "You're mom's the one who needs to readjust her view."

"I never thought I'd yell at my mom about all that stuff. And certainly not in public where everyone is trying to have a pleasant lunch. I'm a grown-ass adult and I should have had better control of myself."

You settle into his inner shoulder, laying a hand on his chest. "Even grown adults have limits and your mom's far surpassed those limits. Don't blame yourself for this."

"Dad said the same thing."

"Well, that's two against one."

Jungkook smiles. Two against one, that's where he got that from. Not that you're the first person to use the phrase but he never used it as regularly until you moved in together.

"I missed you so much today. I don't deserve you."

You cock your head up as quick as the words fly from his mouth. "Don't you dare say things like that! You're a good man despite how awful your mother treats you." You lean your face near his, eyes wandering deep into his dark brown ones. "If you're not otherwise too tired, I'm going to show you how much I love you."

Jungkook opens his lids at that–apparently not too tired. You smirk and get off the couch.

"Here?" His classic doe-eyes peer down at your kneeled position. Seeing you settle this perfectly between his muscular thighs triggers an intense blood rush that goes straight to his dick. Jungkook didn't think he was going to get horny tonight but here he was with his half-harden length in your hands in the middle of the living room.

"Mhm." You position yourself just enough for him to have a clear view of your tits. You had taken both your shirt and bra off before starting. You know how your husband likes it. "That okay with you?"

Jungkook groans when you grip his cock harder, gliding it from the base to the tip in repeated motions. "Fuck yeah. It's more than okay." You giggle at how quickly your husband gets in the mood. He thinks you're the bitch in the bedroom? You quicken your movements.

"Oh shit this feels so good." He grips the couch cushion, keeping his focus on you. "Need that gorgeous mouth wrapped around me baby, please. Shit–"

You honor your husband's requests and trace your tongue from the base of his cock all the way up to his tip. Once there, you suck lightly before taking him in whole.

"That's it. Take my cock, fuck." Jungkook goes on to praise you as you bottom out. You gag a little at first being that you haven't done this in what....weeks? Damn. Whatever happened to the days when you'd literally go down on each other every day?

"We need to get you reacquainted with my cock honey," he teases, bucking his hips forward to push himself further into your mouth. "All these weeks without my cock in your mouth has you gagging all over me. Been it's been too long hasn't it?"

"Mm," is the only thing you reply with, the weight of his thick length dragging back and forth on your tongue. By now your pussy is pulsating like crazy and you're tempted to just get up and fuck yourself on him. But tonight was about your husband–you're going to make sure of it. And Jungkook loves nothing more than getting head with your bare tits in full view, obviously.

A few sucks later and Jungkook starts fucking himself into your mouth. They began as soft, needy bucks of his hips but now they're rough, full-force thrusts. His length shoves to the back of your throat and you moan desperately around him. "Did you miss my cock baby? I bet you did. My sexy wife....you're mine and you're gonna make me come, aren't you? Fuck yeah, you are."

Your eyes water as you continue to take him, hallowing your cheeks the best you can. Jungkook has his eyes screwed shut and sweat dripping from his forehead. Your panties are so fucking soaked right now and your nipples are defiantly hard from sheer arsousal.

"God I'm so close baby. You're mouth is---fuck I don't even have the words. It's fucking magic! And your tits are so hot from this angle. Kinda reminds me of what you sent to me earlier. Can I come on them? I'm so close." Jungkook takes your broken moans as a yes and starts ramming into you two more times before pullout and covering your breasts with warm liquid. "Fuck fuck fuck," he grunts, spilling himself on you.

What a mess. You look down at yourself. What a motherfuckin' mess and you love it. Jungkook pulls you into a passionate kiss, tongue rolling with yours in heavenly harmony. "Thank you for this," he says between kisses. "I'll help you wash up, I promise."

"Mm Jungkook," you pant. "I think I need you inside me."

Hey, he got his dick sucked and he creamed your tits–it's mama's turn now, or excuse you–wifey.

A/N: this got nasty whoops. not sorry. Anyway LMK what you think, thanks for reading! 💞 also pls vote if youd be so kind

Masterlist

Taglist:

@frieschan @oldermenluverrr @tatamicc @kookswifesblog @llallaaa @sunnybyeol @namtaeh @exactlygreatcoffee @whipwhoops @yoongisducky @ktnj91 @junecat18 @thvlover7 @yoongiworshiper @ellesalazar @monbebe234-blog @parkinglot-nights @borahaexoxo @hobiswhore @kimseokjinbangtan @jjk97091 @mk-id @blueberry711 @givemethemaknaes16 @iammartian07 @jjkluver7 @itsdingdong @jiminshi20 @sweet-sourhotcoco @lubtou @lovingkoalaface @starsinsky1999 @rockstarrgyu @chaconnelatte @kaithezaftig @skzthinkr @babystarcandykookie @glossyyyymin @siudema @justanotherkpopstanlol @sh1nedreamsm1le7

P.S. I'm sorry but I'm not sure if I'm able to tag all of you!

no reposting, copying, or translating my work– © kookslastbutton

#bangtanbathhouse #jungkook smut #jungkook fluff #jungkook x reader #jungkook angst #bts smut #bts x reader #bts imagines #bts fanfic #bts au #fic:toolatetodream #kookslastbutton

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adrianasunderworld · 2 years

Text

The usual “Mc gets turned into a small child through some magical mishap.” But instead of jumping into the typical cute tomfoolery, Mc does not remember anything past age five, who these people are, or where they are and why, and they are terrified. Mc is looking around the alchemy classroom, all these strange people are staring down at them, and they start bawling their eyes out.

Their friends try to comfort them, but nothing works. Floyd gets the bright idea to pick Mc up, because kids love being picked up, right?! “Come on, Shrimpy, no need for that!” But all little Mc sees is this big dude with needle sharp teeth and they start screaming and thrashing in his arms. Crewel has to take little Mc away from Floyd and try's to get them to calm down in vain.

“I WANT MY MOMMY!” They keep sobbing at the top of their lungs. (Or daddy, grandma, brother, whatever best suits your Mc.) It gets to the point where Crewel has to put a calming spell on them and they doze off almost immediately, because absolutely nothing they said or did worked. According to him, the effects of the potions will wear off on their own, but that takes a few days.

As the rest of the week goes on, little Mc is passed around from staff member to staff member so they don't distract, or get scared again, by the students. Usually they will be sitting coloring in Crowleys office, or in the back room of Sams shop playing with some toys he had in stock. But even so, that doesn’t stop any of their friends from trying to see Mc. Grim is the first one to get close again to Mc. Crewel explained very calmy that this...cat was their friend, and it was a magic cat that could talk, so don't freak out. Mc thought it was like in their shows back home. Like Jiji from Kikis Delivery Service. So they were okay with Grim despite the initial surprise. Their more human friends, like the Heartsybul and Scarabia gang were not that hard to get used too. Especially when Trey brought cookies, and Kalim being Kalim.

The issue arose when the students with not so human features got involved. Mc absolutely refused to go near Floyd, and by extension Jade. The one time Idia left his room, he ran into little Mc who was left to play in the courtyard under Silvers watch. (He had fallen asleep, but his woodland friends had taken over.) Idia, to his credit, had heard how scared little Mc was of everything and tried not to be spotted. But sadly he was. They both stood frozen in wide eyed horror staring at one another. Silver woke up and found the odd sight, it would have almost been funny if both of them didn’t look like they were about to cry. Mc hid behind Silver and Idia bolted.

Jack wasn’t going to hold it against Mc if they were wary of him, at the moment he was a stranger to them after all. But Ace, Deuce, and Grim made a big show of how Jack was their friend, and look how fluffy his ears and tail are! Mc at this point was more curious then scared, and asked nicely if they could pet his tail. When Jack gave the ok, Mc wasted no time in petting it. Jack tail started to wag, and Mc laughed from his tail floof hitting them in the face. It kinda remined Jack of playing with his little siblings. Leona absolutely avoided Mc, he wanted no part in any of this. So of course, Ruggie told Mc there was a grumpy lion man around here that needed some cheering up. Then set them loose in the dorm. Cheka 2.0.

Lillia had taken to looking after Mc. This wasn’t his first rodeo. Despite the fact he looks like a vampire, he befriended tiny Mc relatively quickly. He is, after all, a parent himself and knew how to calm down a crying child. Mc picked up his paternal vibes and now they're besties. Lilia loves to coo at the Diasmonia boys, “Oh this takes me back. I remember you all were this small.” They have to hide Mc at snack time though

“Uncle Lilia is going to go make you some mac and cheese!” he exclaimed before leaving.

Silver scooped up Mc and ran for it.

“But I want Mac and cheese!”

“Trust me, no you don’t.”

Malleus, like Jack, wouldn't hold it against Mc if they were afraid of him. But part of him really didn't want to find out if that was the case. Sure normal Mc wasn't scared of him, but he didn't really want to see five year old them sobbing at his presence like they had with some of the other students. Lilia had prepared for this though. "See that tall horned fellow over there? He really wants to be your friend. He doesn't get invited out to play very often and it make him sad. So I think it would be very nice if you invited him."

Mc wasn't very sure, but if Lilia said it, it had to be the case, right? So Mc took whatever toys they had been playing with and cautiously walked up to him. "Um...excuse Mr. Malleus sir. Um...do you want to play with me?" They held out the toy him and Malleus was surprised, but gladly accepted.

When Mc finally turned back to normal, everyone was so relieved. For one they didn’t have to feel like they were walking on eggshells around them anymore, and they no longer had to babysit. Mcs memories of the past several days were hazy at best. But the sight of Floyd scooping them up and seeing row of sharp teeth was vividly familiar. “Were you bored without me, Floyd?”

“You were no fun small, Shrimpy.”

#twisted wonderland #twst mc #twst yuu #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #idk i was a cry baby as a kid #if i was reverted to my child self around them i would have just sobbed

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weirdfangirly · 1 year

Text

—No Pure Blood

(Part 1)

Dark-Fiction Central ©️

Dark!Dad!Joel / Dark!Uncle!Tommy x Reader

Summery: You don’t want your dad to find out, so you let your uncle fuck you from behind.

⚠️ : Age-Gap (Joel is 53, Tommy 45, Reader 20), Rape, Dub-con, blackmailing, Dark!Joel, father/daughter relationship dynamics (everyone knows Reader to be Joel’s “adoptive daughter”), Reader calls Joel dad, confused Reader (Stockholm-Syndrom), father-figure Joel but messed up, manhandling, Daddy-issues, overprotective/obsessive Joel, manipulation, degradation-kink, throat-fuck/face-fuck, blow-jobs, breeding-kink, cum-eating, misogynistic-views/behaviour, name-calling, Uncle!Tommy (yes, it’s a warning from now on)

A/n: I had trouble giving Joel a title for this fic since he’s readers father-figure, kidnapper, rapist, pseudo-boyfriend—so I decided to just call him dad!joel and move on.

There will definitely be a part 2 because I’m not satisfied with the ending. Please like and reblog and leave me a comment—it will definitely motivate me to ACTUALLY write part 2 down instead of just thinking about it…

————

Joel needed you today.

He needed your juicy little mouth that was always so eager to do and say whatever he wanted.

His heavy balls were resting on your chin, his throbbing cock was sticking out over your face. The mascara ran down your cheeks along with tears, sweat and spit.

Just five seconds ago you were suffocating on his cock, not daring to pull away. Not daring to fight back.

He might as well have killed you then and there, and you still wouldn't have objected.

You respected him too much…or maybe you were confusing respect with fear? After all, he still wore the face of the murderer of your father. Your real father. But that felt like a lifetime ago…

Whenever you tired to think about your beloved father, his face morphed into Joel’s.

“Good girl.”, he praised you for your obedience and you couldn’t help yourself but find comfort in his words.

Joel couldn't decide whether to cum on your pretty face or make you swallow his load. He liked to know you full of his cum.

One day he would get you pregnant, just to see you round and full of him. He wanted to watch you raise his children. After all, your place was right next to him—and a life in Jackson wouldn’t change that. He would make sure of that.

This damn place was full of soft little boys who all grew up in the comfort of a thick fence that kept danger far away from them. They wouldn’t know how to protect you. They were trying to get your attention, running after you like a bunch of dogs. Joel was sick of witnessing it and not being able to do anything about it but to play “overprotective-father”.

He was sick of pretending that you weren’t his bitch.

He would knock you up soon enough. He would make a little mommy out of you and ruin your pretty body for every men out there. He would tell Tommy and the others that a random boy got you pregnant, so that nobody would get suspicious of it.

Poor girl got herself pregnant and dumbed by a random boy at a party while drunk—sounded believable enough. Joel couldn’t let anyone find out that he was fucking his “adoptive daughter“—that would be a fucking scandal.

His brother’s bitch would definitely try to kick his ass out of Jackson and this time she would actually have a good reason to do so...

He tapped your flushed cheek, signalling you to open up for him. You did. You opened your mouth widely, bracing yourself on his thick hairy thighs. He put his cock back in your mouth, it belonged there. You closed your plump lips around him.

“Ya‘gonna take what I give you, alright?”, he mumbled and grabbed a fistful of your hair. You closed your eyes and nodded, knowing what that would mean; its going to be rough and unforgiving.

He pushed his cock deeper and deeper in your mouth, before hitting the barrier of your throat.

You felt so good to him. He let his head fall back, relishing the moment.

You gagged, your eyes sprung open. You looked up at the tall man with big painted eyes that only made him want to fuck you even harder.

He wore nothing but a white undershirt. His broad shoulders and strong arms looked even more intimidating from this perspective. He was so handsome.

You wanted to make him proud.

So you braved yourself mentally, dedicated to not give him a hard time. He started to fuck your throat like it was your cunt, picking up on speed and force. Pushing himself down your throat making you gag and spasm under his hold.

All you could focus on was to not bite him even though every cell in your body was screaming at you to do exactly that. You couldn’t though. Your punishment would be way, way worse than getting used by him like this and he would most certainly not let you go to your friends birthday party tonight…

“Such a pretty fucking slut.”, he hissed, searching after his release that was seemingly hidden somewhere deep down your throat. Thankfully, it didn’t took him a lot of digging to find what he was looking for…

He exploded inside you mouth in such an absurd intensity that his cum leaked down from your nostrils, making you cough and choke around him. He was holding you in place tightly, watching your struggles intensely. Breathing heavy, strong chest falling up and down.

For what felt like minutes to you, there was absolutely no way for you to get fresh air into your system. His cum was blocking your airwaves. This had never happened before.

You were panicking. He wasn’t letting you go.

You just looked too pretty like this.

Eventually though, he let go of you with an animalistic growl, pushing you away from him. Your head hit the wall and you started to cry from what just had happened. Totally overwhelmed.

Like so often, you felt like a used napkin. Trash.

You crawled over to his legs and hugged him, trying to comfort yourself. “I-I c-couldn’t b-breathe.”, you hiccuped and looked up at him.

He was still trying to come down from his high.

„Walking around all day long in that skimpy little skirt, what did you expect would happen?“, he panted. “Told you many times not to dress like a whore.”

“M’sorry.”, you sniffed and whipped your tears away.

He made you let go of him and you immediately felt lost. „M’gonna take a shower now, girl. Wanna join?”

You wished. Joel wasn’t a softy, little things like asking you if you want to take a shower with him were the most he could do.

You shook your head. „I can’t…I’ll be running late to Anna’s birthday party.“

Joel was about to walk upstairs but stopped in his tracks. „Birthday party.“, he repeated like it was a curse-word.

„I-I told you last week.“, you reminded him. „You said yes, dad.“

How many fucking friends do you fucking have? Being invited to some kind of party every other night…

Joel was sick of it. Sick of Jackson. Your place was wherever he was and not at some random parties, or hangouts.

„Did I?“

„Yes.“, you said, truthfully.

„Mh.“, he looked over at you. You were still sitting on the floor in your tight little skirt. Spit and cum drooling down your face. Mascara running down your cheeks and half of your cherry lipstick—that he had gotten for you on his last hunt for supplies—smeared on his cock.

You did good—and good girls get rewards. His own rule. That was their system. That was how Joel got you where you were; confused, obedient and submissive.

He couldn’t let a life in Jackson ruin that. But you did a good job today and therefore you deserved a reward.

Good girls get rewards. Bad girls get punished.

„You remember the rules, girl?, he asked sternly.

„I’ll be home at 9. No entertaining boys. No drugs.“, you repeated like a mantra.

„Which one of them sluts was Anna again?“, he frowned. He could never put a face to the names of your friends, even though a lot of them would spend a lot of time over at their house throwing heart eyes at Joel.

„The one with the black hair and nose piercing.“, you said. “She’s not a slut, dad.”

“Mh.”, he just made and started to walk up the stairs. “If ya ass ain’t home at 9, me and my gun are coming to pick you up.”

“I won’t be late.”, you said, smiling. “Big promise.”

————

You whipped your face clean from Joel’s mess and tried your best to make yourself look presentable again. This was a special night after all…

You changed into a new shirt and applied another cover of lipgloss onto your lips.

You wanted to look your best for him…

It was a dangerous game you were playing—a deadly game even—but it was all too exciting.

Dean Winchester liked you. Really liked you.

He liked you so much that he wasn’t afraid to secretly meet up with Joel fucking Millers girl, risking to be caught. Risking to basically die.

Joel had a reputation in Jackson. Everyone knew about him and what he was capable of.

You had told Dean many times that if he wants to see you, it has to be discreet. Nobody could know about him and you, ever. You had told him that their relationship—no matter what kind of relationship—would mean danger.

For both of you.

Joel would kill Dean in a heartbeat, not even give it a second thought. However the things he would do to you would be much worse, because you had to deal with his outrage and anger for the rest of your life. He would probably start to tie you up again—he used to do that at the beginning, where he couldn’t be sure that you wouldn’t try to run away from him.

You didn’t want to go back to that stage of your relationship with Joel. You didn’t want to be tied up to trees, heaters or posts again. You didn’t want him to walk you around on a tight leash again.

“I don’t know if we should see each other again, Dean...”, you whispered.

You weren’t sure if Dean was worth the risk. You didn’t even like Dean that much…You just liked to have the attention that Joel didn’t give you.

It wouldn’t be fair for Dean to get killed just because you were bored…

“Your old man won’t find out, babe.”, Dean said, knowing what you where getting at. He kept on kissing your neck and kneading your tit from under your shirt.

You were at the stables. It was your little hideout. Nobody would be able to find you here.

“But what if he does?”, you asked, voice full of worry. “What then?”

You already knew the answer.

Dean sighed and let go of you.

“He’s not the only one who had to survive out there for a long period of time.”, Dean said, now sounding annoyed. “He thinks of himself as tough, but guess what? So am I. I was part of a Raider-gang. Clickers and runners were the least of my problems. I had to showcase strength and dominance every day in order to not get fucked with. It was like living in a cage full of starving dogs. I know people like Joel and I know how to deal with them-“

Dean saw your big fearful eyes, hanging onto every word that left his mouth. He decided to better shut the fuck up before drying you out too much.

“Babe, don’t worry.”, he softened his voice again. “You are too pretty for that.”

He started to stroke your bare leg, making your skin prickle.

“C’mon let me make you feel real good, ya?”, he whispered in your ear before placing kisses all over your neck. He let his hand vanish under your top again, playing with your nipples. He was a good kisser and as you found out, you really liked being kissed on the neck. He made your eyes roll back.

Joel never kissed you like this. He never kissed you ever.

Dean’s lips eventually found yours, his tongue immediately entering your mouth, dominating your tongue. His hand wandered downside, finding his way between your legs. You jumped a little at the contact.

“You are not wearing panties.”, he realised and couldn’t believe his luck. He smirked into your mouth.

You blushed. Joel always liked it more when you didn’t wear any underwear around the house, so you figured Dean would like it, too. You could find a lot of similarities between them actually. Dean wasn’t like the other boys in Jackson, he was older and more experienced. Maybe you picked him because he was so much like Joel?

Dean was good with guns, good in killing clickers and a survivor. That’s why he got a position as a hunter—just like Joel.

“God, you are such a little tease, babe.”, he said and carefully slipped his finger inside you. You were wet since Joel had face-fucked you and you got nothing in return. Maybe Dean would give you the sweet-release you so desperately wanted. His hands were as skilled has his tongue. He fingered you in such a manner that you were surprised to actually feel your orgasm forming.

“Can you…can you keep kissing my neck, dean?”, you managed to get out without sounding too pathetic. It just felt soo good and it would help you cum.

He liked his name on your tongue like that.

“‘Course, babe.”, he whispered and started to kiss your neck again.

“And-and can you…can you call me…a slut?”, you whispered.

He stopped doing what he was doing.

Was that weird to ask?

You didn’t know. It was certainly normal for Joel to call you that.

You opened your eyes and blushed.

“What?”, he asked, confusion written all over his face.

“Never mind.”, you murmured in shame. You closed your legs and straightened your skirt.

You felt dumb.

“Wait, wait, wait.“ Dean said, not liking what you were doing. “You want me to call you…a slut?”

You nodded, face turning red. There was no point in denying it. Although you thought about acting like that was not what you said.

“That’s whatcha like to hear? You like being degraded like that?”

Joel always called you mean names like that when he was fucking you. At the beginning you didn’t really like it. It was hurtful to be called such nasty names all the time when you already felt bad about what was going on. It made you cry and you asked him to not call you that. You didn’t know what shifted inside you, but at one point you started to like it. It felt like a compliment to you. The only kind of compliments Joel was willing to dish out to you. You liked to be Joel’s slut and you wanted to be Deans too.

“Yes, it’s…it’s hot.”, you simply said.

Dean smiled at you in awe. “Damn, you really are a bombshell trough and through...”

Of course he would call you a slut. Dean was holding back anyways. This whole „boyfriend-act“ was knew to him too. He figured that the rules in Jackson were different than what he was used to outside. The only rule he knew was „take what you want, or someone else will“

However he was not with the raiders anymore. He couldn’t just take you from your father. He needed to make you fall in love with him first and soon he would’ve a cunt to warm his cock again. Dean liked a challenge anyways.

And you definitely were the biggest challenge in town.

“You should work on your compliments, son.”, a voice suddenly appeared from behind.

You jumped up from your spot and turned around. All colour left your face when you came face to face with…

“Uncle Tommy…”, you gulped, nearly choking on your own words. “What-what are you doing here?”

Tommy was standing there, hands casually tucked inside his jacket. A cigarette hanging from his lips.

How long was he standing there?

How much of your conversation did he witnessed?

Oh how embarrassing.

“Hi, sweetheart.”, he said to you and smiled, cigarette dangling between his lips. “Oh, well you know, I like to watch the horses while I smoke.”

He pointed at the stables behind him with his thump.

Oh this was the beginning of the end of your life.

Dean who was still casually sitting on the bench, one foot dangling over his leg and arms outstretched, looked over his shoulder to Tommy and greeted: “Mr Miller. Nice to meet you.”

Judging Deans very relaxed body language and the lack of horror in his face, you couldn’t tell if he realised how bad the situation was for him—and you.

“Nice to see’ya too.”, Tommy replied.

There was a tension building pause between all of you. Tommy was the one breaking the silence.

“You should go home now, son. I put’ya on patrol together with Joel tomorrow morning.”

“Yes, I’ve seen the protocols.”, Dean nodded and rose up from the bench to his full height.

“You will definitely need to be well-rested, is what I’m sayin.“, the threat in Tommys sentence was hidden but there.

Dean nodded, in amusement and understanding.

Your worried eyes wandered back and forth between the men. You were close to hyperventilating.

“Yes, it’s late.”, you awkwardly said in hopes to debunk the situation. “I’m tired too.”

Another heavy pause placed itself onto everyone. You looked up at Dean, non-verbally telling him to please play along and just go home. That it wasn’t worth it. He looked down at you and winked, before tuning his attention back to Tommy.

“Good night, babe.”, he said while looking at the older man, provocatively.

Tommy kept his cool. He wasn’t impressed by Dean at all and he most certainly wouldn’t let him ruin this promising night.

“Mr Miller.”, he eventually said and walked away, leaving you alone with Tommy.

Tommy watched Dean wander away. He scoffed and shook his head in amusement. He took one last drag from his cigarette before throwing it to the ground. “What a charmer.”, he murmured more to himself than to you.

He walked around the bench and took a seat, grunting. “If it was up to me,”, he started, “I wouldn’t let that prick anywhere near a gun, but you know, Joel was quite pleased with the way the boy handled himself out there. Skilled. The kid has experience, many people in Jackson don’t.”

You didn’t hear a thing Tommy just said. You heart was beating too loud and too fast, you feared to suffer a heart attack.

“Uncle Tommy, I-I’m…please don’t tell Joel.”, you begged. There was nothing but worry in your eyes.

“Sweetheart, relax.”, he laughed. “I was young once too. You don’t even wanna know what bullshit I pulled behind my parents backs…”

You cracked a little smile at that.

“And, believe me, ya don’t want me to tell you about Joel’s business when he was your age…”

That made you giggle. You couldn’t even picture Joel as a young man.

“Ah, you’re smiling again.”, Tommy pointed at your face proudly. “I like to see that. C’mon sit down next to me.”

“I should go home, uncle Tommy. I have to be home at 9 or else…”

He looked at his wristwatch. “Got planty of time then.”

He was right. You still got half an hour. You nodded and placed yourself next to Tommy.

You met Tommy for the first time here in Jackson. Joel had told you a lot about him during your journey. You warmed up to Tommy almost immediately. At first you were a little sceptical about the man, he looked a lot like Joel. However he was nothing like him—Well, maybe only a tiny-little bit. According to Joel’s many stories, Tommy was pretty badass too. „We used to be a duo“, Joel had told you.

Tommy was definitely more charismatic though. Everyone in Jackson liked him. He was warm and welcoming towards you, immediately accepting you as part of their family.

“You will not tell Joel?”, you asked again, just to make sure.

“Nah.”, Tommy shook his head. “M’sorry for ruining your little date, sweetheart.”

You smiled. “It’s ok, uncle Tommy. I’m not mad at you.”

He smiled. “That’s nice to hear.”

He paused for a second before speaking again:

“As your uncle though…I feel like I have to give you the speech.”

“The speech?”, you repeated, not knowing what ‘the speech’ was.

“Yea, the speech.”, Tommy sighed. “He’s your first boyfriend, right?”

You looked at Tommy, unsure what to answer. Dean wasn’t your boyfriend yet—and he probably never would be. Joel was. Was he? No he was your dad.

“Guys like Dean…they mean trouble for girls like you. Gonna take a bite out of your heart before spitting it back out. Ya understand?”

“I…I don’t think so, uncle Tommy…”, you truthfully said.

Tommy leaned back and looked up at the night-sky, thinking of the right words. He turned his attention back at you. “M’tryin to say is, you are a pretty girl. That’s all guys like Dean care about. You give him a bit of yourself and he will expect more and more, until you’re left with nothin more to give. That’s when he gets bored of you and leaves.”

Your eyes widened at Tommys cryptic message. What he was trying to say is “if you let him fuck you, he will not be interested in you any more”—but that would be to harsh for you to hear.

You couldn’t help yourself but think…Will Joel get bored of me too?

You kept quiet, biting your lip. Not sure what to say.

“Maybe I should tell my brother about this, about Dean...”, he suddenly said and making every alarm bell inside your head ring. “That Dean kid is bad blood. Joel should scare him a little, make him understand that he shouldn’t break ya heart.”

You grabbed his arm and frantically shook your head. “No, no, no! Uncle Tommy, please don’t! Joel will kill him.”

“Sounds just about right to me .”, he chuckled.

“No, you don’t understand. He will also punish me. I’m not allowed to see boys. He thinks I’m at Anna’s birthday party. He will be very, very angry with me. I don’t want him to be angry with me. Please you don’t understand, uncle Tommy.”

Tommy was studying your reaction closely. Oh he did understand.

“You really don’t want me to tell him?”, he asked, playing dumb.

“Yes, please don’t. I’ll do anything.”, you nodded. “I’ll bake you the carrot cake you like so much!”

“What if I want something else?”, he asked voice suddenly lower, his eyes darker.

He sounded much more like Joel now.

You frowned, not understanding. “You want me to bake you another cake?”

“Close. I do want something sweet from you.”

“Something sweet?”, you repeated still confused about what exactly he wanted “Like…chocolate?”

“Ya can’t be this dumb, sweetheart...”, Tommy chuckled.

You opened your mouth, but closed it immediately.

Dumb?

Tommy never called you dumb before.

“…Or should I say ‘slut’?”

That answered the question you had earlier; he did indeed heard everything you said to Dean…

You wished to drop dead on the spot, feeling utterly embarrassed.

You seriously didn’t know what to say. You just looked down and swallowed the wave of emotions down that were otherwise going to burst out of you in form of a mental breakdown.

“I’ll go home now.”, you whispered, when you found your strength to speak again. You stayed seated though, not making the move to stand up and go, as if you were waiting for Tommys permission—Something told you that he wouldn’t let you off the hook this easy.

He nodded and made a clicking sound with his tongue.

“I’ll bring you home…after you’ve convinced me not to tell Joel about the fact that his girl begs strange guys to treat her like a common whore. Wonder how he will take that...”

Tommys soft tone didn’t fit his vile words.

You could feel yourself shutting down—this happened a lot at the early stages of being with Joel, after he had brutally killed your father in front of your eyes and forced you to be with him, to act like everything was totally fine. You stared into the void, not willing to acknowledge the level of betrayal you were experiencing right now. He was blackmailing you.

You liked Tommy.

He was one of the good guys.

Tommy looked at you intensely, analysing your soft features. There was a war going on inside your confused little head, he could see.

He had always wondered how you still look this stunning during the end of times while everyone else’s looked like they been through the gutter. Even on the day you and Joel arrived at Jackson for the first time after a year of living in the wilderness that was now the whole country—you still looked like an angel. Joel did a good job of taking care of you, Tommy had to admit.

Tommy admired your devotion towards his older brother. The way you would look up at him, as if he was your god. Always searching for his approval, his affection, his permission. Joel was a cold bastard, leaving you empty and starved.

Or maybe he was just smart really, since you couldn’t get enough of him no matter what.

And when Joel introduced you to him that day, your pretty eyes lit up with excitement. Uncle Tommy, you called him, even though you were not the same blood. You called him that out of respect for Joel.

Tommy wasn’t stupid. He could see right through Joel’s facade of protective-father. Tommy was his brother after all. He could tell that Joel’s liking in you wasn’t of…innocent nature. Quite the opposite. It was much, much darker. He always knew. Your dynamics always seemed a little off to him. Joel hadn’t even looked at another women since he was in Jackson—he had no need to. He had you.

Tommys suspicion was confirmed when one day he saw Joel touching your ass. It was a few month ago at Christmas dinner. You were standing in front of the sink—washing dishes like the little slave you were for Joel—when suddenly he walked up to you, seemingly to bring you more plates to wash, when his hand grabbed a fistful of your soft ass, so tight his knuckles turned white—and you didn’t objected.

At first Tommy was angry. Disgusted even. Joel was like your fucking father. You called him “dad”, for fucks sake. It was disgusting, vile and wrong.

But then Tommy felt stupid for not putting one and one together much earlier. Why else would a guy like Joel take care of a girl that wasn’t even his own blood? What did he get out from feeding another mouth? What was his merit? What could a girl like you possibly give to a man like him that he wasn’t able to get for himself?

The answer was so obvious.

Tommy heaved himself up from the bench and let his eyes wander over the era, looking out for potential witnesses…

“Ya’got two options, sweetheart.”, he started. “First option; we go home and I tell my brother what just happened between you and Mr Bombshell. The kid will die most likely tomorrow on patrol and Joel will not let you out if his eyesight for the rest of your life. Second option…”

He looked down at your bare legs and licked his lips.

“You stand up, turn around and bend over…”

He paused for a second. “S’up to you.”

„Second.“, you whispered, you didn’t even need time to think about your answer—not that you where thinking anything at all right now. Your mind was blank.

There was nothing that Tommy could do to you, that Joel hadn’t already done. You feared Joel more. The answer was easy. Second option.

You hadn’t even realised that you got up, turned around and bend over. Holding onto the back of the bench tightly.

It was only when you felt Tommy lift your skirt up and your bottom was exposed to the cold night and Tommys hungry stare that you realised that there was no turning back.

You couldn’t see what Tommy was doing behind you, and a part of you was thankful for that; at least you didn’t have to look him in the eyes.

Tommy pulled his cock out. He was hard the second he heard you beg Dean to call you a slut. He gave himself a few pumps and then lined his cock up with your entrance. He wasted no time, immediately ramming all of him inside your juicy cunt.

Dean had worked you up good for him.

The invasion was sudden and forceful. You whined and your knees buckled. You clenched your teeth together.

Tommy started to fuck you the second he was in, leaving your body no time to adjust to his length. He was fucking your hard and fast. He was holding onto your petite shoulders tightly, hurting your flesh and bringing your body down to his in a forceful manner.

The sound of clapping skin was loud and sinful. It sounded so wrong in your ears. And it only got worse when Tommy started to grunt like an animal.

„Shit, girl. Never fucked a cunt as tight as yours.“, he hissed. „Fuck.“

You started to cry. Not because you were in pain, but because you were about to cum…

„Stop please.“, you cried. You didn’t want to cum. Not for Tommy. You didn’t want him to think you enjoyed his assault.

“Your body is betraying you. You like it.”, you remember Joel say to you the first time he took you against your will.

This isn’t normal. I’m not normal. I’m sick. I’m a sick girl.

You started to cry even harder, or were you moaning?It was a mixture of both and it was pathetic. Your were so close. You cunt got even tighter around Tommy. He could feel it.

“You wanna cum little slut?”, he laughed, a nasty dirty laugh. He gave your ass a hard slap.

“No!”, you cried out. “Please stop!”

It wasn’t your fault. You were wet since Joel had fucked your throat earlier today and left you on the ground sexually frustrated. Then there was Dean who had spend minutes fingering you while kissing your neck. It wasn’t because of Tommy.

It’s not because of Tommy.

The more you tried to work against it, the pressure inside you only intensified. You couldn’t hold it out any longer.

You came.

You came around his cock.

First your legs started to shake—it was like a wave—then your whole body. Your thoughts were completely flushed away. Your were biting your lip so hard that you could taste blood on your tongue.

“That’s my girl.”, Tommy praised and kept fucking you hard. “God, you are so hot, sweetheart. I see why Joel keeps you around.”

After you came down from your orgasm you were basically jelly. Without Tommy holding you in place you would be panting on the ground by now. He kept ramming his cock inside you a few more times before pulling out.

He turned you around and manhandled you on your knees.

“Hold your palms out, bitch. C’mon.”, he barked and grabbed your wrist and yanked them up.

You put your palms together and held them up.

He frantically stroked his cock while grunting and growling like a wolf before finally releasing himself inside your hands.

A poodle of your uncles warm, sticky, hot cum could now be found inside your shaking hands. You didn’t dare to drop it. You didn’t move, holding your palms up as if his cum was holy.

The tears had dried on your face. You looked up at Tommy, waiting for him to finally end your suffering.

You wanted to run home.

He put his cock back inside his jeans and pulled out a cigarette. Exhausted.

“Eat it.”, he said and pointed his cigarette at his cum.

He wanted to see how far he could go with you. He wanted to know how well his brother had trained you.

“C’mon, eat it up.”, he repeated when he saw your confused face.

You hesitantly brought your shaking hands closer to your lips. If you had anything in your stomach right now, you would’ve puked it all out. You carefully took a small lick from his cum and cringed a little. It was salty. But soon you found the taste to be familiar. It tasted like Joel’s.

“Be careful not to drop anythin. We don’t want Joel to find cum on you, do we? He might think it belongs to Dean…”

You shook your head and carefully licked your palms clean. Eating your uncles cum.

Tommy watched you intensely. You looked like a little kitten drinking her milk. He was already hard again. He would definitely think about this image of you when he would fuck his wife later tonight.

“Good job, sweetheart.”, he praised you. “Now C’mon. Let’s get’ya home. And you better thing about an excuse why you look like someone had fucked you silly…we don’t want Joel to get suspicious.”

He pointed at you puffy red eyes and ran down mascara.

He helped you up from the ground and you silently followed him home.

————

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eldritcmor · 1 year

Text

More incorrect quotes

Gaz: *over coms* Cornfield cornfield cornfield. Storm getting yeeted into the sky. Cornfield cornfield. Hey look! More cornfield!

Price: Has anyone seen Storm, recently?

Soap: has anyone seen the microwave recently?

*Distant explosion*

Ghost: Found them.

*Storm dancing around the kitchen in a shark onesie with death metal blaring from their phone*

Gaz: *filming around the corner* and here we see Dad's I mean Price's favorite child

*Storm and Soap are sparring*

Storm: oh come on, my father could at least throw a punch when he hit me. What the fuck is this shit?

Soap: *stopping immediately* your father what?!

Storm: *petting the moss between an eldritch forest gods antlers* it's so soooft.

The god: *rumbling in contentment*

Ghost: how in the fuck?

Storm: *pointing at soap* daddy issues make you a people pleaser. *Then to ghost* mommy issues make you well a sociopath or a psychopath. Take your pick buddy.

Ghost: thanks.

Gaz: wait what does that make you?

Storm: *proudly* absolutely fucked up

Storm: shit fucking ass crackers!

Gaz: what did you lose?

Storm: my will to live. Also have you seen my pen?

Gaz: The one that lights up?

Storm: yup.

*Ghost carrying Storm over his shoulder, wrapped in a blanket like a very disgruntled sack of potatoes*

Angel (thank you @kawasama): why?

Ghost: cause otherwise we would have had to use sedatives.

Storm: *angry hissing*

Storm: *sniping to the beat of Yung gravy's oops* my ex be on some hoe shit~

Gaz: *in concern* you good?

Storm: *grinning as the target's head pops* just peachy baby.

Storm: *dangling upside down from the claws of a 20ft tall creature made of teeth and shadows* No! Bad night god! Put me down!

The rest of TF-141: *getting ready to piss off a eldritch creature with bullets*

Night god: *pouting as it sets Storm down*

Storm: good job! *Praising and cooing to said creature* now go find the pretty bastard. *Holds up a picture of Graves*

Night god: *sniffs and takes off*

TF-141: *concerned and scared* what did you do?

Storm: solved a problem.

Storm: *being hugged by soap*

Soap: aw, who's getting used to human contact.

Storm: *angry hissing noises as they try to escape*

Storm: *being carried over Ghost's shoulder.*

Soap: *being dragged by storm by his tactical vest*

Gaz: *being dragged by soap also by his tactical vest*

Price: oh great, it's the will fuck shit up train. In level order no less.

Storm: *fresh out of a cold shower with a large sunburn on their back*

Soap: *Slaps the sunburn as a greeting* Ay storm!

Storm: Shit ass you sheep fucking pile of discarded cowshit.

Soap: well no need to be rude.

Storm: *riding on König's shoulders*

Price: hey, kid. Whatcha got there?

Storm: A sad friend, can we keep him?

Storm: *in a massive cuddle pile of their siblings(not by blood. found family), dozing happily while on leave*

Front door: *Creaks open*

Storm: *Sitting bolt right up, letting out the most heinous death rattle in warning*

TF-141: *was invited here, as they are in the states and didn't wanna be base bound* •-•

Storm: *waking up* shit!

Price: *leading a mission brief on next target*

Laswell: *walking in, carrying storm at arms length* I think this one is yours, price.

Storm: *chilling on the couch, jamming to music*

Ghost: *wandering by and just scoops them up like a sack of potatoes*

Storm: ope, I've been scooped. Hi ghost!

#captain john price #john soap mactavish #call of duty x reader #141 x reader #cod mw2 #incorrect quotes #simon ghost riley #taskforce 141 #mw2 141 #call of duty mw2 #Eld writes #kyle gaz garrick

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bluejaysandblackbats · 3 months

Text

Five Little Ducks

Fandom: DC Comics, Batman

Summary: Bruce finds a magically de-aged Jason.

Chapters: 1/13

Characters: Jason Todd, Bruce Wayne, Dick Grayson, Stephanie Brown, Duke Thomas, Zatanna Zatara

Additional Tags: De-Aged Jason Todd, Magic, Babysitting, Father-Son Relationship, Fluff and Angst, POV Third Person, Bruce Wayne is Not Okay, Bruce Wayne Tries, Jason Todd Has Issues, Childhood Trauma

Chapter One: Hickory Dickory Dock

Bruce leaped out of the Batmobile, blood pumping as he sprinted halfway across the docks and kicked in the warehouse door in a panic. He couldn't be too late. Not again. He looked around the room, his heart still beating in his ears. He shut his eyes and inhaled deeply, trying to regain his cool. Jason wasn't a child anymore. He could take care of himself. Jason was probably long gone. Bruce tried to reassure himself that everything was fine. He turned to leave just as a pipe clattered and clanged against the cement floor, followed by a gasp. Bruce met eyes with a little boy with a bloody nose and bruised knuckles. He sat in the corner of the room shaking and crying, wearing a hoodie that was so oversized it pooled over his feet.

The boy held both hands over his face, stifling sobs as his body shook. Bruce's shoulders dropped, and he made himself appear smaller and less imposing. He stepped forward to approach, and the child screwed up his face and broke into a sobbing mess. "Oh no, I'm not here to hurt you-." The little boy shook his head frantically.

"No! No," he pleaded. Bruce sighed and sat down where he stood.

"I only want to help," Bruce reassured him. "Can you step into the light for me?" The child shook his head. "My mask is awfully spooky, huh?" The boy nodded. "Don't worry. I'm just a regular man under the mask."

The little boy shivered in the cold. "It's too cold in here to stay all night... I actually have a ravioli soup to pick up in a little bit, and I couldn't possibly eat it all by myself. Do you know anybody who might want to eat hot and spicy ravioli soup with me?" Bruce questioned. The little boy's stomach growled. Bruce reached out, and the little boy took his hand. "Oracle-."

"Got it," Barbara replied. Bruce held his hand out, and the child finally accepted. Bruce took a wet napkin and wiped his face and hands clean, checking for signs of a broken nose.

"Does that hurt?" Bruce questioned. The little boy tried to stop himself from crying. "Does your head hurt?"

The little boy shook his head. "No..." His voice was small, almost mouse-like.

"Okay... I don't think anything's broken," Bruce whispered, "Will you come with me?"

Bruce walked him to the Batmobile and set up the car seat he kept around for emergencies. He buckled the boy in and checked to ensure the seat belt was secure. The little boy grabbed Bruce's wrist, and they locked eyes. There was a strange familiarity swimming around in the boy's downturned eyes. "Am I in trouble?" asked the boy. Bruce shook his head. "Are you gonna take me home after?"

"I'm going to try to. How'd you get way out here?" Bruce asked.

Bruce hopped in the Batmobile and started driving toward the restaurant in Little Italy. "I don't remember," the boy mumbled, "I usually remember things... But I don't know this time. I never go this far away by myself."

"Do you know what neighborhood you live in?" Bruce questioned. The little boy swung his feet as he looked around at the Batmobile's interior.

"Uh-huh. I live in the apartments on Park Row," the boy answered, "Mr. Batman, you hurt my daddy before... But sometimes, he does bad things. My mommy says sometimes people have to do bad things to survive."

"Well-."

"I think he had to go away again and get punished," the little boy explained.

"I'm sorry that I hurt your father," Bruce apologized.

"It's okay... You probably didn't know. Sometimes people hit people because they don't know better," the little boy justified. Bruce shifted uncomfortably in his seat as he pulled up into the alley.

"I'll be right back, okay?" Bruce asked. The little boy nodded.

Bruce went into the back entrance and paid for his order. He took an empty soup container and split his order in two before grabbing his forks and returning to the Batmobile. He climbed into the backseat and draped a napkin over the boy's lap before handing him his soup. "Thank you," the little boy whispered. Bruce could tell it'd been a while since the child's last meal, but he had excellent manners. Bruce ate with him in silence. "Do you know my name?"

Bruce shook his head. He thought it was a strange question. "Do you know Santa Claus?" the little boy questioned.

"No, I can't say I do," Bruce replied, "What is your name, by the way?"

"Jason," the little boy answered. Bruce turned to him and shook his head.

"Jason Peter Todd?" Bruce asked. Jason nodded and smiled.

"Hey! You told a fib! You do know my name," Jason giggled. Bruce's breath caught. How was that possible? Jason was a full-grown man when Bruce received the distress call earlier. Who could've done something like that to him? "Mr. Batman?"

Bruce took off his mask and looked him in the eye. He hoped it would spark something in Jason's memory. "Jason, how old are you right now?" Bruce questioned.

"You're Bruce Wayne," Jason grinned, showing Bruce the little gap in his front teeth.

"Jason, please. How old are you today?" Bruce asked.

Jason frowned. "I'm five... Are you mad at me?" Jason questioned. Bruce shook his head.

"Do you remember talking to me today? We talked to each other three times today... I've known you since you were twelve, and I-."

"Mr. Wayne... I'm five," Jason whispered.

Bruce sighed. Jason was literally five years old. He had no memory of the past nineteen years, and there was no way to explain any of it without traumatizing him. "Well, Jason, if your mommy and daddy aren't home, do you want to stay with me for a little while?" Bruce asked. Jason nodded.

"How'd you know my whole name?" Jason asked.

"I'm a good detective," Bruce answered. Jason hiccupped and apologized. "It's alright. Jason, is it alright if I take you to a doctor and let her bandage up your cuts?" Jason nodded. "If you're good, Dr. Thompkins might give you a sticker."

Jason lit up. "I know who Dr. Thompkins is! She helped my mommy once when she was sick," Jason explained. Bruce smoothed Jason's hair down in the back. He felt something warm and wet, like blood, and he drew his hand back to see a glowing inscription on his hand. Magic. Of course, it was magic.

Corpus et mens infantis ad cor infantis. It was written in liquid on Jason's head and Bruce's palm. Jason didn't notice the glowing green inscription. "Does Dr. Thompkins know you're Batman?" Jason asked. Bruce nodded. "Am I asking too many questions, Mr. Wayne?"

"You can ask all the questions you want, Jason. Okay?" Bruce reassured him. Jason nodded as he drank the tomato broth from his soup container. Bruce smiled and wiped Jason's face. "I used to have a little boy like you... Except he wasn't as little as you. He was older... But to me, he was my little boy."

"Is he gone?" Jason asked.

"Kind of," Bruce whispered.

"Do you miss him?" Jason questioned.

"All the time," Bruce whispered, "He was only little for such a short time. I wished I could turn back time and be better to him."

Jason looked at the sad expression on Bruce's face, and he tapped his shoulder. "I bet he misses you too," Jason reassured him.

#fic #five little ducks fic #jason todd #bruce wayne #stephanie brown #duke thomas #dick grayson #batfam #de-aged jason todd #angst and fluff #magic #babysitting #chapter 1: hickory dickory dock

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butler-on-beale-street · 2 years

Text

Hushabye | Elvis Presley X Reader

Warnings: None, Fluff

Word Count: 1.4K

A/N: Okay I need to write more short and sweet fics because this hit me right in the feels!! This pic was requested by @arianatheangel-girl. I hope I did your ideas justice! If you need me I will be bathing in a pool of heart emojis.

Summary: Being a new mother is hard enough, but waking up almost every night within the wee hours of the morning to coo a crying baby back to sleep? Exhausting. Thankfully you have Elvis by your side to ease some of that stress...

You thought you were dreaming, feeling your consciousness looping in and out in a semi-lucid state. Your eyes were closed, but you felt yourself drifting closer and closer to the surface of reality with each passing moment. Suddenly, you were aware of the sticky sheets beneath you, damp with restless sleep. Your mouth was dry and your muscles ached in several places. You opened your eyes slowly, blinking out the sleep from them as you rolled over to wrap yourself around Elvis. You expected to fold yourself into him, resting your head on his chest, but when you turned, his side was vacant, the covers peeled down the bed. You smoothed your hand over the mattress, finding that it wasn’t very warm. He had been gone for some time–and that’s when you heard it. Crying and squealing. You couldn’t help the exasperated groan that fell from your lips. It was common for Elvis to slip out of bed in the middle of the night–especially if he couldn’t sleep. He was probably in the bathroom or within his study, lost within the pages of some theological or philosophical novel. You rose from the bed, bending to turn on the lamp on your side table. You squinted from the burst of light, reaching for your robe that was wrapped around the chair at your vanity. You stood up and pulled it around your body before slipping your feet into a pair of house slippers. You heard more sobbing coming from the nursery down the hallway.

“I know, baby. Mommy’s coming,” you cooed softly. You were exhausted. You caught a glimpse of yourself in the vanity mirror. Your face was sleepy, your skin looking extra puffy. Your complexion lacked its usual brilliance, and your eyes carried dark circles around them. Your hair was frizzled around your face in a helpless, unintentional beehive. You let another self-effacing groan leave your body and forced yourself to look away from the mirror and face the issue at hand. You heard the choked sobs continue, feeling your heart break with each repetition. “Shh, Mallory. Baby,” You said softly as you padded out of the bedroom toward the nursery. You were certain that she couldn’t hear you from where you stood, but something about it made you feel better. You rolled your shoulders back and forth as you trudged down the hall, releasing the tension in your upper body. You pulled your hands to your face, rubbing out the exhaustion as best you could, spending the few seconds you had to meditate before calming your weary child.

“Shhhhhhhhh.”

Your heart leapt from your chest, almost causing you to run back into your bedroom. You stalled in the middle of the hallway for a moment, spooked by the other adult voice. “Mallory, sweetheart. You’ll wake Mama. No need for all that cryin’ when Daddy’s got ya.”

You stepped forward, continuing to the nursery while listening to the voice. The nursery door was open; a thin sliver of light leaked into the hallway, spraying low light along the wall of the hallway. You stopped just short of the doorway, turning your body so that you could see into the room without being detected. Stepping up as closely to the door as you could, you peeked into the room to find Elvis turned away from you, his body bouncing up and down with Mallory in tow.

“Ya know, Daddy’s got a bad hip,” he said, chuckling to himself. “Used them too much in the early days,” he continued. His voice was low, the baritone timbre of his voice pulled sweet like Tupelo honey. He was quiet for a long moment, slowing his bouncing to a minimum, moving to swing the baby slowly in his arms, rocking her back and forth against his chest. He had turned his body in a way that you could see her little face in the low light, her eyes turned upward to her father. You took notice of the innocent sparkle in her gaze, staring up at Elvis with curiosity and vulnerability. Her entire world belonged to you and Elvis, embodying the very best of him and yourself. You couldn’t help but feel your lips pulling into a loving smile, your cheeks pinching from grinning so wide. A single tear slipped from your eye and you pulled up a hand to swipe it away, overcome by the beautiful moment. Elvis was destined to be an incredible father. The way that he held the little child, his strong arm supporting her body against his chest, protecting her from the world; it was an image that filled you with love and admiration for the man that you had chosen to devote your entire life to. You could hear Mallory cooing softly, her sobs becoming less and less frequent.

“Now with the wigglin,” he spoke again, his fingers lifting her tiny legs and feet in the air. “We need to talk about that. That got daddy in a whole lotta trouble.” You could see his cheeky grin from where you stood, his eyes obscured by his thick lashes as he looked down at his daughter. “That’s it, baby girl. Go right to sleep.” He said in a sing-song tone, backing himself toward the rocking chair in the corner of the room, taking his time to slowly lower himself into the seat, pulling Mallory against his chest again. You stood there for quite some time, grinning when you watched Elvis manage to perch a book in his hands while he held the baby.

“You certainly are an expert,” You said, finally opening the door and stepping into the room.

His eyes flicked up from the book, turning to look at you. “Hey!” He said too loudly. Mallory’s eyes shot open. “Shhhh,” he cooed again. “Daddy’s sorry.” He looked back up at you. “Baby, I got her back down all by myself,” he announced proudly, looking down at his snoozing child before looking at you again.

You nodded, impressed. “You did a great job, Daddy,” You said, bending to kiss Mallory on the softness of her forehead before turning your head to kiss Elvis on the lips.

“Sorry if she woke you up. Little thing was screaming and carrying on worse than my fans.”

You grinned, grabbing her tiny little hand in between your fingers, squeezing lightly before putting it back down against her sleeping body. “She looks so peaceful,” you said softly. “Like a little angel.”

“That’s because she is one,” he said, leaning forward to stand up from the chair. “Here. Let’s give you to Mommy,” Elvis said, handing the sleeping baby over to you. You reached your hands out to take her, pulling her to your bosom, wrapping your hands softly around her, careful to support her head, neck and back.

“You did a great job, sweetie. Thank you for letting me sleep, even if she ended up waking me up anyway.”

“I was trying for that not to happen,” he said, running his hand through his hair.

“Well, it’s hard being a mom and hearing a baby cry. It’s instinct to spring awake.” You responded, stepping forward to the crib, reaching over it to place the slumbering child within the comfort of her bed. You pulled the tiny blanket over Mallory before turning on the mobile above her head.

“Goodnight sweetheart, Mommy and Daddy love you very much,” You whispered to your daughter, who was already dozing softly, oblivious to your farewell. “Well, isn’t that a blessing?” You asked, turning your head to Elvis, who leaned down to kiss you softly on the lips.

“I don’t want her to grow up,” He said softly, taking your hand in his. “She’s too precious.”

“Well, she can’t stay a baby forever, Darling. Unless you want endless sleepless nights of shhhhshing and begging her to sleep.” He stepped forward, guiding you together out of the nursery, stopping to turn off the lights and close the door, leaving a small crack in the jamb in case she were to wake up again. “You’ve got eighteen years to look forward to…and that’s just a start.” You looked up at Elvis as you walked, watching his eyes widen.

“Eighteen whole years?” He said, his lips pulling into a wide grin. “Whew, lord. She’s gonna be flirting with boys and stealing my thunder before we know it, huh?”

You turned to him, pulling him into your bedroom by his hands. “Well, she is your daughter after all. Come here, Daddy,” you said, biting your bottom lip flirtaciously as you invited him into the bedroom, shutting the door behind you. “Let me show you how grateful I am for you.”

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