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#also she thinks his face looks mature for his age
liveontelevision · 2 days
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Hi! im in love with your Lucifer fics. You newest one has me gripped and i cant wait for the next part.
You got me brainstorming more Lucifer fics ideas
I was thinking of one where the reader has been helping/supporting Charlie at the Hotel and is almost like a mother/parental figure to her, and when Lucifer arrives he acts cold/mean no matter how much she tries to be polite. But then he warm up to her after see how much the reader really cares about Charlie and then he finally realises hes in love with her.
Thank you! I literally could write about him for hours (kinda have already) and I really liked this prompt, so here's just a lil' something for ya, anon ♡
Honey | Lucifer x Reader
No smut, just some cute fluff here-
♡♡♡
As soon as you arrived in Hell, your eyes were drawn to the drab-looking hotel just up the hill. And you flew to it like a moth to a TV screen. That being said, you've known Charlie and the other residents for as long as you've been dead. They've all seen you at your worst, having to be the unlucky few to explain your death. Although, Charlie's comfort really made the whole being dead thing much more palatable. During this time, while she's supported you, you've seen her through thick and thin as well. Pretty soon, you became an important part of her life, offering a more parental influence when she needed one. You didn't really die at an old age, but a lot went on in your lifetime to give you the maturity to comfort people that way and you were always happy to do it.
Considering your skill set, some of the residents went to you in the same fashion. A little task you took to, just to help out, was fixing up some articles of clothing for people. It was a great mindless task for you to do, considering Alastor wasn't a fan of having phones and TVs in the hotel. So you simply sat, humming a little tune as you fixed up something from Angel's wardrobe.
Your trance was broken, seeing a pair of slender legs in front of you. Following them up, you finally meet eyes with a nervous-looking Charlie. She's fidgeting with her fingers, still trying to find the courage to say whatever she came to you for.
"You need something, hun? You can talk to me, c'mere." With a sweet voice, you patted the cushion on the couch next to you and kept on working. She let out a heavy breath you didn't realize she was holding.
"Soooo... my dad is coming to visit and I - uh.." she still struggled to find her words. Considering you've barely been outside the hotel, you really didn't question how big of a deal Lucifer was. But to see Charlie getting flustered about a little visit from her own father did make you feel uneasy.
"I guess - I don't know, I'm just nervous, is all! It's not that big a deal, I mean, he's my dad, but also.. he's... my dad..?" You nodded your head.
"Seems like a big deal. He's the king of Hell, so it makes sense that you're nervous. Can I help with anything?" Acknowledging her feelings and making sure to keep your tone smooth, you finally set aside the mini skirt you were fixing up to face her.
"Oh! Um - I was wondering if you could bake something for everyone! Niffty's making cookies, but I think dad might enjoy something a little more.." You both thought back on the disturbing display of desserts Niffty had made for everyone in the past, it sent a chill down your spine. You nodded your head fast, taking a hold of her hands.
“Yeah, I'd love to! I'll make sure it's something your dad would like, too! How's that sound?" You absolutely loved to bake, and doing it for other people always made it even better. There was some pressure on you, considering who you were catering to, but remembering that this is for Charlie, kept any nerves at bay. Charlie, who just happened to be shedding a tear or two of relief, gave you a hug that would've snapped you in two if it had gone on any longer. You were used to those at this point.
The day went by fast, Charlie preparing and stressing over little decisions for her dad's visit. You got the OK to bake an apple pie. A specialty you would make when you were alive, you went all out. You'd always make the dough from scratch, soak the apples in a homemade cinnamon butter, and somehow managed to spiffy it up to a commercial extent. You were batting off Pentious and Niffy as best you could until he arrived.
You saw a side of Charlie during that visit that you haven't really seen before. She was nervous, sure, but it was clear she felt so defeated. Each little quip on sinners being hopeless or how Charlie shouldn't even bother in this "whole redemption deal" made you understand her paranoia more and more.
As Charlie introduced each of the staff and residents, Lucifer got distracted by the still steaming pie sitting on the table in front of everyone. He definitely wasn't the only one whose mouth was watering just by staring at it, but he was the one who bit the bullet, taking the first piece. 
"And this is -" a loud hum of satisfaction interrupted Charlie's introduction to Sir Pentious, who looked deflated at the change in topic.
"Charlie! Good golly - This is great!" With another bite and hum, you watched his eyes flutter shut for a moment. A little boost of confidence immediately making you giddy.
"Oh! Well, that's good! Because this is our other guest! She made it herself -" Charlie took a hold of your shoulders and dragged you to face Lucifer. You could feel the nervous tremble coming from her hands. You looked up at her for a moment and smiled, placing a hand over top of hers. It really did seem to calm her nerves. And for some reason, he didn't seem to like that. 
"Well - I'll eat anything with apples since they're obviously my favorite. It’s not that special." He tossed the half-finished plate back onto the table and wiped his hands clean. He ignored you.
"U-Uhm.. yeah, that's - that's everyone, I guess!" Charlie stammered, not expecting him to turn such a cold shoulder to you. He spent his time examining you. Considering he didn't even care enough to learn your name at that moment, he sure was taking his time looking you up and down.
"Well then!" He clasped his hands together after finally tearing his eyes off you. "How about a little tour?" He suggested, clearly not invested in the other sinners now. Charlie looked down at you and you nodded, starting to clean up some little things around you. It was a nervous habit you had, but it helped to keep your hands busy and your mind off the insulting interaction you just had to endure.
Charlie took Vaggie's hand and went on to give the tour. Once they were out of sight around the corner, you slumped your shoulders letting out a groan.
"Short king's givin' you the cold shoulder, huh?" Angel leaned on the back of the couch, crossing one leg over the other.
"Right? Okay, glad I'm not the only one who noticed that. Is something wrong with the pie..?" Looking over to Sir Pentious, who was licking the already empty pie tin clean, he quickly shook his head.
"Maybe's got a thing for ya." Angel teased, jabbing you with his elbow. You rolled your eyes, finally taking the pie tin from Pentious.
"He didn't even get my name, I'm sure that's not it. Whatever.. " you grumbled, taking any dishes you could to the kitchen to keep your mind from exploring that option.
The extermination day battle was here. You followed the armies who attacked the hoards of exorcists when they finally arrived. As the battle went on, you hated to admit it, you found yourself in awe watching Lucifer kick Adam's ass. The sight of his wings and the little V thing - and obviously his immense power, somehow managed to make you blush as you were attacking angels. Definitely a new sensation for you, with the bloodlust muddling your other senses, but it was easy to forget about it once the new hotel was renovated and everyone was finally settled in.
As everything went back to normal, you went back to helping Charlie with anything you could, drinking at the bar with everyone and generally things went back to the way they were. There was only one difference. Lucifer made the decision to stay at the hotel. It was commendable for sure, his change of heart to support Charlie through this change, but it only left you feeling conscious about everything you'd do when he was around. The underlying crush didn't help much. Or Angel's teasing about said crush.
You really did try, when you'd pass him the hallway, you'd always send him your most sincere smile. Or when you spotted him reading or working on anything, you'd try and spark any kind of conversation or ask if he needed help. He never needed help. He was always too busy to chat. You honestly couldn't remember a time he looked you in the eyes before. You bit your tongue. No need to worry Charlie, or anyone really, about some feud you possibly made up in your mind.
It was especially important to you to not stress Charlie right now. Starting the hotel back up was a big task alone, but the loss of Sir Pentious weighed on everyone. And Charlie took full blame for it. A late night, where she most likely stayed up to try and find any kind of hope for redemption, any speck of proof to bring sinners in, she found herself burnt out. Approaching the memorial for Pentious, you stood beside Charlie. You found her visiting it every now and then, and when you did, you knew she needed a check in. And you were right. Without a word, Charlie suddenly clung to you. She went on about how it was all her fault. How he was gone because of her. How nothing seems to be working and she's terrified that it's all for nothing.
It took a while for her to calm down, but you would never leave her like this. By now, the two of you had fallen to the ground, sitting on your knees.
"Charlie, you are doing your absolute best. It's okay to cry, you know that. Think of everything you've done for everyone else, I mean - Pen would've never sacrificed himself if it wasn't for his friends." You brushed a tear from her still wet and puffy eyes. "You did that. You gave him something worth dying for." It was a hard truth, but you hoped it was enough for her. She's done more for you than she'd ever know, and you'd do anything to give it back. You didn't realize, but before approaching Charlie, Lucifer was pacing a nearby corridor, battling the decision to go up to her himself. He hadn't said much to her since extermination day, and he had always been nervous about saying something wrong, making things worse. Before he had the chance to muster up the courage, you had swooped in. It confused him. He should've been jealous or hurt, that he wasn't able to calm her down himself. That you beat him to the punch. But he didn't really feel that way, no matter how much he tried to convince himself otherwise. Was it admiration? Sitting in the shadows until he assured Charlie was taken care of, he went back up to his workshop, flustered for a number of reasons.
There was one moment, where things started to look good. It was a regular night at the bar, you, Angel and Husk had gotten on the topic of your lives, looking at the positives which was a rarity. Charlie and Lucifer were nearby, Charlie enthralled in the discussions of what Earth was like.
"My homelife? It wasn't anything fancy, but.. um.. - oh I had a farm, actually! I ran it with my parents, it was.. nice." You hold onto your arms, a bittersweet smile on your face. With a light bulb going off in Charlie's head, she nudged you with her elbow.
"You didn't happen to have any birds or chickens or ducks - did you?" She hummed. She noticed the wedge between you and her dad, and it hurt her just as much as it hurt you. She's little miss "everyone should get along", of course, this hurt her. You didn't notice, but Lucifer peaked up at you for a split second before distracting himself by swaying the drink in his glass.
"Oh..? Oh! Yeah! Yes, actually! We raised a few ducklings that a neighbor gave us - we got them as eggs, so we got to see them grow up and everything!" Going on, telling a story about how you snuck one into your room to keep it as a pet, only to be scolded for it. You had the whole group in the palm of your hand. Including Lucifer. You met his eyes for just a moment, the twinkle in them immediately drawing you in. With a quick smile, he became flustered. He scoffed, pushing himself away from the bar and leaving. As much as that should've infuriated you, seeing those eyes and the growing redness across the apple of his cheeks felt like a win.
Since the hotel was newer, and word hadn't gotten out about Pentious's redemption yet, it was still vacant beside you, Angel, and occasionally Cherry Bomb. That gave the whole group a lot of time to enjoy the large space in the meantime.
Certain nights, Alastor would play the large, golden, piano that Lucifer had so generously created. This led to Charlie singing along to whatever he was playing, of course, and when Lucifer was in a good mood - or drunk - he would even pitch in. He'd sit atop the piano, his legs crossed, as he hiked the matching golden fiddle to his shoulder and played along. It was truly a sight to see. His skills were unmatched, but it still seemed to melt into the rest of the contributions. It was as if he invented the damn thing (He did).
This sort of became a tradition, when everyone was in a good mood and Alastor wasn't getting on Lucifer's nerves too much, everyone would join in, singing and dancing. It was rare, but Damn was it fun when it did happen. One of these nights, Alastor started off with a song that you knew, and had actually introduced to Charlie. She gasped as soon as she recognized the tune, pulling you close by both your hands to sing along. You had as good of a voice as anyone did, in a musical rendition of Hell, but you mainly stuck to harmonizing little things with Charlie. Swinging around with each other, until you were dizzy and laughing, you noticed that the room seemed a little empty.
Lucifer was seated where he usually was, on his phone. His fiddle was placed carefully at his side, and he was scrolling through his goddamn phone. 
"Don't feel like joining us, Your Highness?" You kept to titles since it was obvious he wasn't warmed up to you just yet. Even after living with you for a month or so.
"Mm. Don't know the song. It's not my cup of tea, just can't seem to get into it." He says bluntly, never looking up to you.
“Oh, come on! Just play along, it’s just for fun!” You slurred your words a bit, whatever you had been sipping throughout the night causing, what you would call, an outburst.
“Hm! Well, I’m not exactly here for your entertainment, am I? God forbid a sinner doesn't have fun in their eternal punishment.” The room went silent. You felt so defeated. You've been trying since the day you met him to try and at least get on good terms with him, but it seemed like he would even prefer a night with Alastor over you. Things like this never bugged you much, you tried so hard to not let it bug you, but when Charlie looked over to you, with those worried eyes, it was hard to keep back the bottled-up disappointment.
With a little sniffle and a quick wipe of your eyes with your sleeve, you start heading back up the newly decorated grand staircase, without a word to anyone.
"Heyyy - Dad..! I think you maybe.. might've... I don't know - hurt her feelings..? Would you wanna - " Charlie carefully approached her father, who immediately lit up and placed his device down when she spoke. "Could you talk to her? Maybe just check up on her..?" She was speaking barely above a whisper.
“You have to apologize. Um.. sir.” Vaggie finally blurted out. His smile was nervous, his eye twitching a bit at the concept. Taking in a deep breath, he rubbed the back of his neck, letting out a sad little laugh.
"Well, uh.. I don't know, Kiddo, maybe she's just tired." He muttered, obviously hesitant at the idea.
"Sounds like the king can't handle a little damsel in distress to me. Would you like me to comfort her, my dear?" Alastor was quick to chime in from the piano bench, offering a sympathetic smile to Charlie. Why did the concept of that make Lucifer’s blood boil?
"Oh fuck you, bambi, I can handle it." With a quick hop off of the piano top, he almost stormed up the stairs to find you. Definitely not what Charlie was hoping to motivate him, but she wasn't an idiot. She knew Alastor had his reasoning for that. She mouthed a little thank you to him, once Lucifer turned his back.
You were ecstatic to learn that Charlie worked an extensive library into the hotel. Walking into its large double doors, you almost struggled to see the back of the room with how full it was. You had a little corner you claimed as your own, leaving one of your blankets draped on the little loveseat there, and setting aside a pile of books you were still working through. It was a great place to calm yourself down after what had just happened.
Hearing heels click against the tile, you wrapped yourself tighter in your blanket as you pulled your legs up to your chest. 
"I'm fine Charlie, it's fine.. I just need a second, go back to the lobby." You shooed off the figure with one hand, wiping your face with the other.
"Ahha- Nope! Try again -" with a nervous chuckle, Lucifer greeted you with an awkward wave. Interrupting the silence by clearing his throat, he gestured to the seat next to you. With a quick nod, finally snapping out of your surprised state, you shifted your position to sit beside him. It wasn't exactly a two-person couch. Not for two people who might hate each other, at least. I mean it was a loveseat. He struggled to keep his distance, leaving your legs barely brushing together.
"Soooo.. you, uh- like.. reading..?" He asked after a long silence. You were mainly confused by his words, but simply nodded in response.
“Yeah it's - I-I love it in here.. There wasn’t anything like this on Earth, so this is nice." You managed to speak out, between sniffles. He agreed with a little hum, fidgeting with the ring on his finger.
“Glad you like it. It's uhh - just happens to be my personal collection.” He puffed out his chest, looking at his clawed nails with a little smirk on his face. He had no idea why he thought that would help, but it actually did a bit. when he looked your direction, you were slack-jawed in awe. The sight made him turn a bit red in the cheeks, quickly looking away, he patted the top of his legs to fill the silence.
“That's really cool! I guess it makes sense - considering you're older than the dawn of time- but, still. Thank you, I suppose. For letting me - I mean - us use it.” You rambled on for a moment your words became quieter the more you gushed.
“Is that supposed to be an insult?” He asked between laughter. You made him laugh. You hoped he didn't see the sparkle in your eyes at the notion. You stalled, lost in thought, before quickly shaking your head.
The two of you sat there for a moment, the awkward silence sitting a little more comfortably than before. Finally, Lucifer let out a sigh of defeat. 
"It’s my fault, right?" He asked, already knowing the answer.
"Oh, uh.. I guess so, but.. I mean, I'm kind of drunk so it might be something with that - but I'm fine, I swear." You waved your hands in an attempt to soothe the serious discussion. But Lucifer knew better than anyone what someone holding their true intentions back looks like.
"You're really good for Charlie. I.. I wish I could take care of her. Like you do." He admitted. It surprised you for a moment. Was that why he's been so cold to you? Was there some form of jealousy in there? Or was he really concerned that you would replace him in some fashion?
"C'mon, you're just saying that to make me feel better. I saw you on extermination day, none of this would even be here without that little pep talk, you’ve done more for her than you know, I think. Charlie.. she loves you." The words made him perk up a little. Maybe even a king needs reassurance sometimes.
"Oh- Um.. I guess she does, huh..?" You could hear his smile. The two of you sat in silence for a moment. You didn't even realize you had the smallest smile on your own face. But he did. With another nervous laugh, he hesitates before planting a hand on your leg, just above your knee. No time like the present, you suppose.
"I’m sorry. I really am. For.. everything. You're actually amazing. I-I mean it.." Without a response from you yet, he lets his gentle touch linger a moment longer. You leaned in towards him, the smile on your face turning sly.
"Yeah? You think so? I almost thought you hated me." You were teasing him. He's been so cold to you this whole time, you just had to take advantage of the moment. He turns a bit red, covering his mouth with his free hand as he clears his throat into his fist.
"Of course I don't.." He muttered.
"Soo, would you say you like me?" You drew out your words, walking your fingers up his arm.
"W-What? How - " He clamped his hand over his mouth before desperately trying to rationalize his thoughts, " Of course I do! I just said you're great with Charlie and I -ahh.. I love Charlie, so I like - " He coughs up his words, " - I liked your pie, that you made! And you have a good voice, too, and your little duck story was cute, so - " God bless this man's tendency to overshare when he's nervous. The alcohol definitely gave you the little boost of confidence you needed to question him like this, but you would be lying if you said you didn't notice his reactions to you whenever you weren't paying attention. Or whenever he thought you weren't paying attention. It finally dawned on you that some of those glares might have had some other motivations.
You knew when to reel it in, but considering his hand was still on your leg, he moved it up a bit even, you assumed he was okay with the teasing. Maybe even enjoying it. Delicately drawing your fingers across his jaw, to his chin, you pulled his gaze to meet yours. You could feel his hand tense at every little touch.
"You have really nice eyes, Luci-" He audibly gulped, tugging at his bowtie. "You’ve been avoiding looking at me for months.. I wish you'd look at me more." You almost pouted, your fingers still lingering under his chin. With the slightest movement, he followed your hand towards your face. He took his hand off your thigh for a moment, only for you to take a hold of it and place it on your back. He was the one who pulled you closer at this point.
“Y-you can't just say things like that.. it’s embarrassing..” He muttered, trying his best to not close the gap between your bodies. 
“Embarrassing? I’m not embarrassed, your highness. Are you? Do I.. make you nervous? Hmm?” You placed your hands just above his knees, leaning closer through your chest. Sucking in his lips, he did his best to stay silent, knowing he’d dig his own grave no matter how he answered.
“I just think you’re so pretty, Luci, I can't help myself.” Before he could properly react, you leaned in close enough for him to feel your breath against his ear. Damn, what did you drink? You could feel his hand on your back clenching, either to bring you closer or just out of sheer nerves. With a little hum against his ear, he let out the quietest whimper. It apparently took both of you by surprise, you leaned back to get a look at his face with wide eyes. Meeting his eyes this time sent you both into a blushing, nervous state.
With a deep breath, you cupped his face after brushing some of his golden locks back into place, then gave him the lightest kiss on his lips. You didn't even linger long enough for him to return it, and he was clearly distraught by it. You unwrapped yourself from your blanket, giving a dumbstruck Lucifer another quick peck on his forehead, before standing.
“I’m going back downstairs. Take your time, Hun!” You called out so sweetly as if you hadn't just left him a heated mess. 
Finally returning to the lobby, you walked with your chest puffed out, beckoning for another drink from Husk.
"Did.. did Dad check in on you? Are you okay?" Charlie carefully approached you, and was immediately disarmed by your grin.
"Yup! I feel much better now. He apologized and we had a little.. Discussion. Thanks, hun." You said sweetly, taking a sip of the drink Husk slid into your hand. Angel gave you a dirty glare, and after meeting his eyes you quickly looked away.
"Well great! Where is he? Maybe we can pick back up where we left off!" Charlie clasped her hands together enthusiastically.
"Here! I-I'm here! Great idea, honey, let's keep playing!" He tripped over himself, rushing into the room and hoping nobody saw him re-fastening his tie. Sending him another quick smile, his face clearly hadn't cooled from the past events. He nearly dropped his fiddle, but as soon as he prepared he picked up the same song that was left unfinished moments before.
♡♡♡
I wanted to get through some asks, but I'm still working on Suffer, no worries, my friends
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Note
Dadstarion prompt:
Caretaker takes the kid to a fair, playground, restaurant or shopping, just spending the day and having fun together
Ha! Take that. Pure fluff. What could possibly go wrong??
Synopsis: Tiriel and Astarion take Alethaine to a fair.
Tags: dadstarion, dhampirs, fluff, a snippet into the future
Another fluffy thing I have written! And there is also a snippet into the distant future with adult Tiri who hasn't inherited her mother's macabre nature!
Alethaine's age - 12-years-old
Thanks @themadlu for beta-reading!
Read on AO3
Masterlist
Headcanons
Guide on How To Skin Monsters
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Tiriel stops at the daggers’ stall. All of them look rather dull and Tiriel decides to search for something better for Astarion. Besides, he prefers to choose weapons for himself and Tiriel can always get something else – a book, jewelry, or a shirt. He always huffs when she brings him gifts, but she knows he is grateful for those little reminders of her care.
“Looking for something?” A merchant, a halfling woman, asks.
“Nothing in particular,” Tiriel says.
The halfling is definitely in the mood for talking and starts gossiping about a feud between two noble human houses, a serious plague “originated by giants” and someone’s wife cheating with an ork.
“Oh, and have you heard? There was a murder in Secomber! The whole family was slaughtered and by whom? A dhampir!”
Tiriel takes her eyes off the daggers.
“Yes! A half-vampire! Can you imagine sleeping with a vampire? But I think their mother was assaulted. Anyway, the dhampir grew up and slaughtered the whole family! Those half-undead are merciless cruel creatures, and they say there are so many of them!”
“Yeah… cruel monsters they are,” Tiriel mutters.
She heard of the slaughter, but there were no dhampirs or vampires involved. Just a young man possessed by a dryad. He was hanged a week later, but someone started spreading rumors his mother fucked a vampire and that’s why her child grew up so bloodthirsty. 
Tiriel feels pale hands hugging her waist from behind. Alethaine presses her face against her back – she is 12 but she is still cuddly as a little child.
“Oh, is this your daughter? Such an adorable little girl. How old is she?”
“Alethaine,” Tiriel touches her fingers.
“I am twelve,” she says, trying not to betray her fangs.
“Oh… I am sorry… didn’t notice she was an elf.” The merchant apologizes and then proceeds  to tell other gossip.  
“Have a nice day,” Tiriel says, taking Alethaine’s hand.
“You too! And beware the dhampirs!”
“Beware the dhampirs my ass,” Tiriel says, moving further away from the obnoxious halfling.
“I can bite her,” Alethaine suggests. She is twelve, but elves mature slower than humans and half-elves and Tiriel notices her daughter sometimes behaves like a younger child.
“No, we are not biting people we don't like.”
“Dad wouldn’t mind if I bit her!”
“Hm, good thing it’s daylight then!” Tiriel rubs Alethaine’s ear. She knows her daughter too well not to notice the merchant’s words upset her. 
Cruel merciless creatures? Alethaine cries her eyes out every time someone dies in the books she reads! Well, she mostly sympathizes with dragons and monsters – but also with orphan children, victims of arranged marriages and curses. 
And little dead animals. 
Little dead animals are a whole different story. It’s been three years, but Alethaine still feels sorry about an albino kitten killed by a stranger. The dhampir accidentally resurrected the pet and now Tiriel and Astarion also face the issue of raising a necromancer.
“Hey, don’t be sad!” Tiriel leans to a little dhampir. “Do you want anything?”
Alethaine doesn't answer. She stops by the book stall completely enchanted by a huge black volume covered in leather. 
How to Skin Monsters.
Aletaine immediately flips the pages, and Tiriel sees intricate and creepy pictures of the insides of different beasts and monsters. She’d fought many of them in her lifetime (beholders in the Underdark are still one of her worst memories), but never ever did she want to look at their remains, let alone study them.
“Hey, don’t touch it!'' The merchant tries to take the book away from Alethaine’s hands, but the dhampir keeps holding it with her iron grip. “I think this book is rather dark for a little lady like you.”
“Mum, look, the cover is made of human skin,” Alethaine casually says. “No. It’s half-elf actually.”
“No it isn’t!” The merchant protests. “It’s… wolfskin!”
Liar, Tiriel realizes. She has good perception skills, and the merchant lies. And the dhampir necromancer has already passed the verdict. 
Alethaine puts the book away and takes another one – a green volume with letters in Espruar. 
“Is it just a collection of stories or the real guide on Feywild?’” Alethaine asks. “People who have never messed with fey write all sorts of fairytale stuff about pink unicorns and fairies who grant wishes.” She opens the book which is written with trembling handwriting. “Oh, I see. Looks like a feverish nightmare. So the writer has been there.”
The book merchant looks at Tiriel with a facial expression she knows too well. 
What crypt did you find this child in?
“I have some ballads and traveler guides. Maybe...it is more for your age?” he asks
“Travelers guide on what places?”
“Icewind Dale, but it’s a rather uncomfortable read…”
“I’ve read about Icewind Dale,” suddenly something else attracts her attention and she points at a small book with a dragon on its cover. “Show me this!”
The merchant sighs in relief and reaches for the storybook. Tiriel looks at the pages – even though she still experiences issues with reading, she sees that it's just an adventure story about knights, princes, dragons, and treasure hunting.
Something her daughter stopped reading when she was five or six.
“I will take this too,” Alethaine declares.
“Eighty silver for all three,” the merchant says.
Too much, Tiriel thinks. Alethaine frowns but doesn’t try to bargain. For some reason, she is very shy when it comes to arguments.
“Thirty silver,” Tiriel intervenes. “And we are not telling anyone about the half-elf skin you’ve bound the book with.”
“It’s not made of anyone’s skin!”
“I can hear her screams,” Alethaine whispers, flipping the book pages. “They flayed her when she was still alive!”
The merchant gulps. Tiriel chuckles. So, this is true and the merchant knew it.
“All right. Thirty,” he mutters and Alethaine happily gives him the silver coins. 
Alethaine puts the books in her black bag and wishes the merchant good night. The man mutters something not appropriate for children’s ears.
“Did you catch the scent of the skin or it’s more like your necromancy skills?” Tiriel asks, taking her daughter’s hand as they stand by the stall with needles and threads. 
She shrugs. “I-I don’t know. Maybe both.”
“Do you know if Dad needs something to sew?” Tiriel still can’t really tell apart shades of the same color and all needles look the same to her. 
“Take the black threads,” Alethaine says, touching the samples of fabric. “He’s always out of them.”
Tiriel nods. She doesn’t know why and when Astarion decided to make all his daughter’s wardrobe black, but here they are. Alethaine got from black onesies to black dresses, from black nappies to black skirts, gloves, and coats. Only her shoes and boots aren’t made by Astarion - and they are as pitch dark as everything else.
A few hours later, at sunset, they sit on the grass outside the market. It’s a beautiful summer sunset and Tiriel adores the light. Alethaine sits on her traveling cape and takes out one of her new books. 
“Interesting?”
“Uh-um,” she nods, completely taken away.
Tiriel smiles to herself. She’s never been a stranger to violence and dark things – if you faint at the sight of a blood sacrifice, you won’t survive in the wilderness. But having a child like this takes everything to another level.
Death, dark arts, corpses – they have  a special appeal to Alethaine, the same one Tiriel feels towards fights.
The sun sets and Tiriel sits beside Alethaine. Darkvision allows her to see in gray colors and Tiriel sees a picture of the monster inside.
“All right, now I understand who all these people were who hired me to bring them certain parts of the beasts I killed.”
“Dad is coming,” she says. “Or another vampire, but I think Dad scared all of them away.”
Tiriel smiles. “Good thing vampires hate the presence of each other.” She stands up and approaches the edge of the hill. Yes, Alethaine is right – Astarion has left his daylight shelter in the nearby inn. She can see his silhouette from the distance – white hair and black armor she can’t mix with anyone else.
She waves to him and he quickens his steps. 
“Hello, darling,” he murmurs in her ear the moment he hugs her. Astarion pecks her cheek and Tiriel rubs his left ear.
“Dad! Look what I’ve bought!” 
Tiriel thinks Alethaine will show him the anatomy book, but, instead, she hands him the adventure story.
Astarion studies the first page, then another. Tiriel watches them carefully.
“I just don’t get it,” Alethaine admits. “Is it about how to enter the thieves’ guild or how to smuggle drugs?”
“None,” Astarion returns her the book. “It’s about how to find a job as a bounty hunter in Neverwinter.”
“Oh, I misread the symbols then,” Alethaine pouts.
“Wait, the book is in Thieves Cant?” Triel asks.
“Yes. Hidden deep under snotty stories,” Astarion answers. “And what are these two monstrosities?”
Alethaine proudly opens the anatomy book as Astarion studies the Feywild one. Tiriel barely prevents herself from laughing as she sees Astarion cringing at the pictures. Vampire or not, he saw so many disgusting and cruel things he hated looking at them. 
Then Alethaine yawns. 
“Let’s go home,” Tiriel says. It will take them till sunrise to return to Daggerlake. If they don't hurry they will need to set up a camp for the daylight - or leave Astarion behind which Tirel absolutely hates to do.
It’s not like it’s a big deal right now – thirty-two years since he gained his freedom, he has nothing to fear. More than that, Tiriel is sure there is simply no other monster in the area who could be a threat to Astarion. He is a vampire, an undead, a skilled rogue, a dangerous assassin.
But when he is alone, the nightmares slowly crawl back. The loneliness fuels his memories and there are so many of them. Thirty-two years are simply not enough. Astarion can handle that too – he’s learned to. But Tiriel doesn’t want him to face mental struggles if it can be avoided.
Alethaine walks in front of them and Tiriel takes Astarion’s hand in hers. They are her little family – everything she’s ever wished for. 
She looks at Astarion and notices his lips are squeezed and there is some anxiety in his eyes.
Hunger.
“Go for a hunt, we will wait for you”.
“Nonsense, let’s return home sooner.”
Tiriel doesn’t push it. They agreed years ago that Alethaine isn’t to see him dining on her mother (because it’s absolutely a sexual thing and must remain behind closed doors) and also that she shouldn’t see him feed on animals (because her dhamprisim might get awoken – blood will tempt her and they don’t want their daughter to become more a vampire then she already is).
Of course, she isn't stupid, she knows her father drinks blood. She often sees bite marks on Tiriel when she forgets to cover them – but the process remains out of sight.
It’s already sunrise when they reach Daggerlake and Astarion walks forward not to risk staying in the sun.
By the time they return home, Alethaine rushes upstairs to prepare for sleep. She sleeps a lot, even more than a human would – and Tiriel wonders how much dhampirism affects her sleeping habits.
“So, is the book really about how to be a mercenary?” Tiriel asks closing the door to the bedroom
Astarion has already put off his doublet and now sits on the bed watching Tiriel.
He waits.
“Yes. It was a guide on how to find people who will give her a job as a mercenary,” he slowly answers as if he had to concentrate on speaking. His eyes are focused on her neck. 
“And can she read this book?”
“She thought it was about smugglers and thieves. Her skills aren’t that good.”
Tiriel approaches Astarion and he tugs her closer, forcing her to sit on his lap.
Astarion is no longer a sweet caring elf – his predatory side is on the loose and he pierces her skin with his nails as the fangs are looking for the vein.
Tiriel wraps her hands around his neck and lets herself drown in painful pleasure. 
“Take as much as you need,” she murmurs. “I love you.”
She feels like falling into the warm dark void and, when she almost crosses the border of no return, the tender hands let her go and she finds herself on the bed with Astarion carefully applying a bandage on her fresh bite mark.
“Thank you,” he says, kissing her with his blood-stained lips.
“Will you stay with me when I sleep?”
“Of course,” he chuckles. “Besides Alethaine has occupied the bathroom – she isn't getting out any time soon”
“Oh… and I forgot…” Tiriel points at her bag. “I’ve bought you some black threads and new needles.”
Astarion kisses her cheek. “Such a caring and thoughtful wild girl. Now I have something to occupy myself with while you are asleep.” He takes her nightshirt from the floor. “Do you have anything in mind? I noticed you’ve ripped it.”
“Me? Astarion, you rip my clothes all the time!”
He unfolds the shirt showing the ripped collar. “Yeah, I agree. My fault. So, what patch do you want?”
“Maybe a dragon? A black one?”
Astarion covers her with a blanket – the one she uses when she sleeps alone – and sits on the floor with the shirt and the needle.
“I have a daughter who likes seeing monsters’ inside-outs and a wife who likes murdering monsters. Can someone in this family enjoy nice and cute things?” He pouts.
“Imagine Alethaine having a child who enjoys such things. She will pout then, ‘no one in her family has taste for macabre’”.
Astarion chuckles, and Tiriel wraps herself in the blanket. 
Safe. She feels safe. 
And loved.
**
Sewing has always helped Astarion to concentrate. It’s been centuries since he needed to shut the darkness up. Memories of his enslavement, memories of the misery have faded away and feel like a distant nightmare. 
But habits never truly go, and Astarion enjoys sewing patches and repairing clothes even though the old purpose of that process has long gone.
“You know, for someone who is an elf and was raised as an elf, you are very messy,” Astarion says looking at the ripped cape. It looks like it was chewed by a tarrasque.
“It’s not my fault! I was careful!” Tiri objects. She is making new arrows (as she lost the whole quiver while running from a particularly nasty behir in the Underdark the previous day).
Astarion chuckles. Tiri, his granddaughter, showed up at his place deep in the Fairgheight Range five years ago. Red-haired like her grandmother, she was eager to see the world beyond the Isle of Evermeet – and she still doesn’t show any desire neither to return to her parents nor leave him be and travel alone. 
“What patches do you want?” Astarion asks and takes his sewing kit from the traveling sack. 
“Well, I am an adult independent woman…” Tiri starts.
“You are thirty and you are an elf. You are basically a child.”
“Hm, you were a magistrate and mum would work for smugglers using her necromantic skills. Barely a child activity.”
“So?”
“I want a unicorn patch,” Tiri finally admits. “Or a butterfly. Don’t laugh, ar’o’su!”
“I don’t, damia,” Astarion finds white threads. “Besides, Alethaine has never been fond of cute and nice things.”
“Mum has her own idea of what is nice and what is cute,” Tiri touches a thin tiara on her hair. While all Tiri’s clothes are made according to Wood Elves traditions, her father’s ancestors, the tiara is pitch black and with a small skull in the center. It definitely belonged to Alethaine and then she just passed it to her only daughter. 
Tiri puts the new arrows on the ground and lies on her bedroll to reverie. Her drake, Aurix, immediately nestles on her chest like a cat.
Astarion casts a glance at his granddaughter. She has a certain similarity to Tiriel – and Astarion knows she would have loved her. But half-elves have such an offensive short life span in comparison with elves she had no chance to see little Tiri. At the same time, her facial features are her mother’s and sometimes she speaks like her. There is something else, something unfamiliar – Tiri’s father and their ancestors.
And she loves cute and nice things - and cringes at the sight of monsters’ inside-outs. Necromancy scares Tiri and she admits she’s never been to her mother’s dungeons just because of how uncanny it was for her.  And elves would often joke that their “witch-queen” just kidnapped Tiri because no way someone like Alethaine could give birth to such a sweet young woman. 
Astarion pierces the fabric with the needle.
“Well, so be it, a unicorn.”
-- Tag list
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Last Game hair style fixes, in order of who needed it most.
I've never liked the canon hair styles in Last Game. They're either hideous, or just simply don't fit the characters/style of the main series. I get its a (mostly different) art department and meant to age the characters up, but most of the time, they simply just look off-model to me. I know I'm not the only one who's got issues with the hairstyles in this movie too, so I did my best to fix them up and give them styles that I personally think suite them. Originals below cut as well as my explanations! Important to note, these are my preferences/headcanons for them so take everything I'm about to say with a grain of salt.
**Akashi isn't here, because believe it or not, I actually think his hair looks the best out of everyone in LG.
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I wouldn't change it. I like to draw him with neater hair/his bangs pushed out of his face when I age him up, but for the summer after the Winter Cup - when LG takes place - the canon hair is exactly the sort of style I think he would/should have. I like the allegory that the rough chop is something he did when his mental health wasn't good, so now as his mental scars heal, it's growing back out. ❤️
Midorima
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A neater/shorter hairstyle does fit Mido's character/personality, but the LG hair simply just doesn't look like the same hair type we see in the main series. Mido's hair has got the slightest wave to it (which I tend to over-exaggerate whenever I draw him).
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With this in mind, I went and gave his hair some more body/volume by extending the sides. (You'll see a lack of volume/body is the key issue with the other LG hairs as well).
Murasakibara
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Mura's hair in this movie looks so so flat and greasy. Now I didn't do the best job fixing it up, but this is basically how you'd go about doing it; just add more flowy strands. His hair is pretty pin-strait in canon, but there's lots of flowing strands, even when he's not moving much, which give it a clean-look.
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When it's all just one limp form, like the movie does, it appears unclean as opposed to just long and sleek.
Momoi
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Another victim of the lack of body/volume. The style they gave her is also simply bad, like she just took a pair of scissors and cut in a straight line. There isn't even really any style to it. Its kinda just laying there on her head, which is not what her hair usually looks like in the main series. There's always strands/some lift to it. Also Momoi has always had some sort of bangs/framing pieces in her face, so for her whole forehead to be out was just a tiny bit jarring.
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I think the style I came up with is a little more mature while still having personality and life to it. Plus, LG takes place in the summer, so a shorter hair style would be more comfortable in the heat.
Kise
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Kise I don't think I did a good job of fixing to my liking either. It was hard to edit it without making it look bad in general, because I really don't think this choppy sort of style suites him like at all, so it was too much to change. Now his hair is one of the better drawn ones in this movie for sure, but it feels more like a Kagami hairstyle than a Kise one to me. I just don't think his modeling agency would let him have such a choppy, hard-to-style haircut. I also think a more polished look fits his handsome, princely sort of appeal that makes him popular with girls.
Aomine
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Alright, now its time for me to be playful and silly with some out-there hair styles. Aomine (and Kagami's hair) in Last Game I don't mind. After Akashi, I would say Aomine looks the best. BUT. We have NEVER seen Aomine with long hair, even in flashbacks when he's a child.
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So for him to finally decide to grow out his hair - in the SUMMER HEAT - just feels like a weird move to me. Feels out of character. He strikes me as someone who likes his hair out of his face when he plays ball and just wants to roll out of bed and not worry about brushing/styling it or anything. The animators also aren't consistent in this movie and sometimes his hair looks particularly long in the front and back, which again, I don't think he'd like. This picture below and the ones above are from the same movie/take place within like a week of each other, yet look so different.
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He looks cute and it definitely gives him a more youthful look; which is a weird choice, because they want to age up everyone else but Aomine in this movie. So, I think a fade would really suite him (I don't think I drew it that well tho). Keeps his hair short and out of his face but also ages him up a little more with a mature style.
Kagami
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Alright, Kagami's look here is pure indulgence. @knbposting said "Kagami with a mullet" and I haven't stopped thinking about it. Sue me. His LG hair isn't bad and makes sense for his character and the time of year. But its just sorta plain. Honestly, Kise's hair style in this movie would probably suite Kagami more. I always liked how in the main series, Kagami's hair is a little scruffy in the back so I really wanted to lean into that.
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Is a mullet suitable for the summer heat/something he'd like? Well, maybe not but I think it ages him up while also seeming like something he'd get at some point in his life. So here we are. I will end this with saying this is probably the longest he'd ever let his hair get.
Kuroko
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Finally, we have Kuroko, whose hair I've barely changed. Now, the animators/artists do a really bad job of keeping his face on-model (eyes too beady, features too sharp) but that's a whole 'nother issue, and I managed to find a scene where they kept him on-model lol. I think a shorter, neat style is good for the summer and suites him, but a main feature of all the hair throughout the main series is the spikes/strands of hair on nearly every character - Kuroko especially - so I just added a tiny bit more here.
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And that's the end! If you read all the way to here, thanks for coming to my insane-person rant.
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inupibaldspot · 2 months
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Walk him like a dog
Pairing: Gojo Satoru x Reader
Note ₊˚⊹♡ : The first year trio are watching Gojo who is completely head over heels for you.
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To the world, Gojo Satoru is the strongest but to the people who know him Gojo Satoru is a menace.
When he was in high school, he was a different breed. Yaga could not sleep at times from all the stress Gojo would cause; be it either an earful from the higher ups or checking the news only to find out there had been an explosion conveniently where Gojo’s mission was assigned.
Sometimes he would get pictured sent to him by the problem student himself, a picture with a beaten up enemy and Gojo winking at the camera with a note saying ‘Yay~ another victory! I mean it’s as normal as breathing for me (*ᴗ͈ˬᴗ͈)ꕤ*.゚’
Even when Yaga would use his authority and lecture him, sometimes Gojo Satoru would not listen; be it simply ignoring or rebutting it with his opinion— an opinion no one asks for.
And when that happens, Yaga would pull out his secret weapon ‘You’! He didn’t use this card all the time but at time Gojo was simply so uncooperative, he had to! Any word coming from you would be listened to by him as if it were law. Right now, at the age of 28 he seemed to have matured- no stopped acting as childish and Yaga didn’t have to rely on you so often.
That same Yaga watches from the window at his new first years— Kugisaki Nobara, Itadori Yuji and Fushiguro Megumi— behind a bush, hiding peeking over to you and Gojo who were on a bench.
“Ah…” Kugisaki sweat dropped at the pair. “Gojo-sensei is so smitten.” She said observing at how you were simply reading a book, as Gojo yaps away but one thing very obvious was the gentle look he gave you.
When you finally looked Gojo’s way, their white haired teacher suddenly stops, they notice a faint blush peeping under his blindfolds and when he does starts talking he stammers. THE Gojo Satoru was stammering, biting his tongue simply because you were looking at him.
“Kugisaki, let’s leave.” Itadori covers his eyes, his right eye peeps through the cracks of his fingers. “Sensei is doing such a bad job at flirting with y/n, I’m getting embarrassed.”
Kugisaki lifts her hands and grabs the collar of Itadori’s and starts shaking it. “This is the closest we’re getting to romance in this school and I want to be the witness.” She grits her teeth.
Just then Nanami walks along the path, making the pair look over. You smile as you call out. “Nanami-kun.”
Nanami stops and waits as you stand from your bench, walking over to greet him. The students stare; as soon as you got off the bench and walks Gojo follows suit not even a millisecond later.
Kugisaki cringes. “He is like a puppy…”
They could vaguely hear Gojo start to make fun of Nanami, but when you think his ‘joke’ was a slight bit too harsh; they watch you give Gojo a side eye and almost immediately their teacher shuts up.
‘y/n has the strongest sorcerer at the palm of their hands .’ Kugisaki and Itadori collectively thought.
Before Kugisaki could comment she senses a small wet feeling on her forehead, then another and then she was drowning in it. Suddenly it started raining.
“Geh. Let’s get out of here.” Kugisaki says as she quickly brought her hands up to cover her bangs. “I don’t want my hair to frizz up.”
Itadori and Fushiguro follows her lead as they walk away to the nearby building and when they did reach shelter, Kugisaki quickly turns around to check on their teacher and you, a fellow sorcerer.
Her mouth drops slightly taking in the situation at hand, Nanami was no where in sight. She assumes he left because of the rain too.
But that wasn’t the focus.
Her eyes were focused on Gojo and you, holding hands smiling fondly at each other, she also noted that he was using ‘Infinity’ to not get wet from the rain.
Gojo laughs as he raises one of your hands high which makes you let out laugh, but complies as you proceed to twirl. As soon as you make two twirls, their teacher places his hands on your face as his leans down, his lips on yours.
Kugisaki and Itadori squeal and blushes at the intimate scene infront of them, jumping. “Sensei, finally did it! He kissed y/n—!” Itadori smiles.
They watch you smile into the kiss and you bring your hands up behind his neck, slowly trailing them into his hair, deepening the kiss.
“I’m so happy,Kugisaki.” Itadori wipes his tears with the back of his hands, extremely happy for his teacher’s happiness and success in his love life.
“I don’t know why you guys are making such a fuss.” Fushiguro finally decides to add into the antics of his classmates.
“Huh?” Kugisaki quickly turns and glares at the dark haired man. ”Is your heart made of stone or something,Fushiguro?”
“Yeah! I heard Gojo-sensei basically raised you.” Itadori chirps in. “You should be more happy for him.”
Kugisaki nods in agreement.
“I mean…” Fushiguro sighs as his hands are up massaging his temple, mentally preparing for the outburst to come.
“They’re married…”
“Ehhhhh???”
Reblogs, like and comment are appreciated! Love this work? out other here
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dungeonpuppykai · 8 months
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When I want to read dark fics, your writing just hits. One of my guilty pleasures recently has been dark!winter soldier stuff and I was hoping you could write one.
If you can, can you make it where Bucky is still the Winter Soldier and finds himself completely enamored with the reader. He stalks her briefly and decides he has to have her. So where it gets dark is mean, brooding soldier kidnaps reader and makes her his housewife. (I’d like to think that some of Bucky’s 40ness is still there along with some good old fashion 50s idealization where he basically molds her into being his perfect little housewife.)
He can still be with hydra or not but this thought has been buzzing around in my head recently and I personally am not good at writing dark fics.
Um, hell yes I can! Also, not me having almost exactly the same idea (it was in my drafts and I totally merged it with yours). Sorry for being late uni kicks my butt hard TT. Also, please note that this is a headcanon kind of situation type deal but apparently there's a limit to how many bullets you can put per post so that's why it looks the way it does! Hope you like it still. Unedited ❤️
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Warning(s): Dubcon (just to be safe), stalking, kidnapping, housewife kink, stockholm syndrome, spanking, misogyny, domestic discipline, breeding kink (dash), age gap (I mean, man is over a century old). Contains mature content. Browse at your own discretion. MINORS DO NOT INTERACT! 
You are absolutely shit faced as you stumble out the backdoor of the club with two of your girlfriends tangled around each arm. 
You are all giggling, stumbling and slurring out curses, trying to shush each other as you trudge your forms to your apartment complex that is close by because driving is obviously out of question now. 
Were it not for your overly intoxicated state, you would have totally noticed the dark silhouette that stills in the dark alley facing the backdoor. 
The man masked in the darkness tilts his head to the side as he tries to read your party, having gotten caught off guard by the sudden bursting open of the door. 
One of your friends stagger in his direction and he moves back, his labored breaths warm in his mask, watching the girl as she retches her guts out.
Silence follows the wheezes and gags of the girl.
Then there is a sound– a melody in the air.
Soldat feels something stir within himself.
Something his masters did their best to suppress. 
Not that they would be doing any more of that. 
They needed to be alive to do something like that ever again.
His eyebrows furrow as he scans your group for the source of the sound; you. 
You are laughing.
At your friend that is throwing up.
Hands clutching your hurting sides, eyes scrunched, head thrown back, flushed and sweaty face vibrant under the bright moonlight as your hair frames it in the most perfect way possible. 
A shaky breath escapes the man covered in tears and blood of his captors and oppressors.  
His eyes scan your form. 
Beautiful. 
His metal hand clenches into a fist and he makes his resolve almost instantly;
Mine.
Soldat cannot recall much of his past except for a few things like his name.
But he knows that it has been a long, long time. 
And it's time to go home.
But a home is not walls and concrete. 
It is the people that live in it. 
His head is a mess as he scales a wall and follows you to your building, skipping from roof to roof effortlessly with a careful eye on your form.
James had finally broken free against hydra yesterday morning while they were experimenting something more brutal. 
And during the following hours, all various leaders that made the organization what it was were dead.
For what is a structure without its pillars?
He had plundered them single handedly. 
And now he was a slave no more.
James would live, and he would take.
Just as had been taken from him.
You woke up the next morning, sprawled across your bed.
As you winced and sat up, you could swear you had knocked out on the couch last night. 
But since you couldn't teleport, it was probably just a gap in your memory.
Right?
The second sign was the painkillers and water next to you on the bedside table.
The third was the window of your room that was open wide.
But you shook your head as you were behind on your schedule for the day and got on with your busy university student life. 
You should have taken notice of the signs. 
How things would always somehow work out when you were struggling with some sort of a problem. 
Regardless of whatever type of an issue it was. 
Your friends joked about it as Divine Providence. 
And Divine it was, you lived to learn. 
When it happened, it wasn't after a dramatic chase or anything. 
You had simply woken up in a room you had never seen before, tucked in the bed like it had been yours for ages.
What even happened? 
You had finished an assignment before heading to bed for an early class the next morning. 
But now you were timidly surveying the room, more and more panic filling you by the passing second. 
The house is beautiful and bright outside the dark room you had woken up in, big glass windows facing tall trees and various other type of greenery outside. 
A loud gasp escaped you when you were somewhere in the middle of the living room.
You turned around to find a huge and by that you mean, giant man standing a few steps away from you.
You could swear he wasn't there a minute ago.
But now he is towering over you, head tilted to the side as if interacting with something from an outer planet, eyes scanning your form slowly. 
As if he's savouring the sight of you in a…
Your blood runs cold as you look down to realize that you are dressed in a white sundress with yellow and red flowers printed on it.
Your eyes widen in horror.
Because you had been wearing your PJs last night–
Or, rather, the last time you were awake.
Before you can say anything, he extends a hand towards you invitingly, nodding sideways to what seems to be the kitchen. 
Something in his hand glints in the sunlight coming from the windows.
It is when your panicked vision realizes that the hand and the whole arm is made up of metal, your body backs away.
With your mouth agape, you demand shakily.
"Who the hell are you?" 
He sighs. 
"What the hell is this place? Why am I here? What the fuck is going on?!"
The man's features scrunch in disapproval. 
Your choice of words is much unappreciated.
"Good little wives don't ask questions." 
In his angry, fried and entitled delusional mind you are as much in love with him as he is.
Otherwise, why would you just accept all the favours he did for you during all these months he was building a perfect home for the both of you and your future children?
He takes a step in your direction and you leap back.
After a short game of cat and mouse, you are trapped against the glass window.
He is too close. 
There is a heavy looking vase on the table next to you.
The shock on his face is evident.
He hadn't expected you, his wife, such a small and innocent girl to disrespect her husband like this. 
You whimper in horror when he doesn't budge against the decoration piece exploding against his brow bone.
James' eyes narrow as he leans in, a thick stream of blood running down the hurt side of his face.
"Bad girl" and you take off without a second thought.
Thankfully, the door is straight ahead and surprisingly unlocked.
You run without looking back. 
The man is not chasing you like you expected. 
But you don't want to stick around and find out why. 
Though the reason is soon revealed when you race through the little garden and out of the fence door. 
You are looking behind you and at the house so it is not until you are a good distance away from it do you turn your head to look ahead. 
Icy horror pierces its way down your spine.
Sand and palm trees dominate your vision as far as you can see where you are and your right side.
A devastatingly vast ocean washes the shore you are running on from the left side.
That doesn't stop you until your body gives up after a few minutes. 
You ran into the jungle for some cover.
Sobs and tears burst out of you as you collapse on a blanket of leaves.
Your body is weak and confused. 
Many hours pass.
You wander and starve.
You hide and shake.
You tip toe and give up.
There are wild animals all around you.
You can hear them.
It's terrifying. 
So terrifying that when you hear the stranger's voice some time after dusk, you are almost glad.
Are you done? His bright blue eyes that you can make out even in the dim light ask you silently. 
"How'd you even find me?" You were sure you had run a good couple miles.
He refuses to respond until you place your shaking hand in his awaiting metal one. 
"I can smell you" his accent is almost foreign as he pulls you up, frowning at your hurt bare feet. 
It took you hours to get to where you were but it only takes James a few minutes to get you back home. 
"Before I clean you up, I need to punish you." You are baffled. "Good wives don't run away from their husbands." 
He doesn't listen to any of your protests and reason that day or ever.
"Little girls don't know what is right for them. Only their husbands can decide that." 
He thoroughly washes you that night after giving you the worst spanking, paying no mind to your begging and crying.
You are sniffling as you sit on the bathroom counter wrapped up in a towel an hour later, your sore ass buzzing under you.
Your captor is kneeling in front of you as he tends to your hurt feet. 
He tells you your rules as he does so.
"First, you are to always obey me no matter what. Second, your body belongs to me as I am your husband, so you should not try to deny me of it because it will never end well for you. Third, you will respect me or you will live to learn to do so. Four, you will do your chores like a good wife and fulfill your wifely responsibilities. Five, you are to always accept your punishments and thank me for disciplining you after I am through with you, should you choose to break a rule or misbehave. Six, you will not indulge in any activity that can potentially corrupt your little mind. Seven, you will speak with respect and never out of turn. Eight, you are to always greet me when you wake up or if I have been gone a while. Nine, you can try to run. I will never stop you. But when you return home after failing, you will take your punishment obediently. Ten, you must never touch yourself. You are mine and mine alone." 
Since the spanking is still fresh on your skin you panic a little and fear forgetting them.
But you find them pasted on the fridge the following morning because he knew you were too dumb to remember them.
A few days pass before you explode about not being his wife and call him crazy.
"You weren't saying that when I did you all those favours." 
Horror dawns upon you as you realize that it was him all along.
You don't give up easily, though.
You try to run more times than you can keep count.
Every direction, every plan and every map you make proves to be useless.
Because the last time you do so, you realize that you are on a fucking island.
And since there is a dock near the house with the pantry never running low on groceries, James has a means of transport hidden somewhere is no mystery. 
But you don't know when he does it. 
So far you haven't been able to figure out a pattern. 
Either he was right about you being dumb or your captor was really good at staying one step ahead of you.
Anyways, you have no choice but to return to him crushed and sobbing as always.
He is reading something when you collapse between his legs; ready to accept your punishment as you have learnt that hiding and denying only makes it worse. 
James isn't so bad if you follow his rules. 
He is just a kidnapper and a misogynist with dangerous reflexes. 
His face is smug as he puts the book away. You have noticed that he is not as stiff and troubled as he used to be when you first woke up here months ago at this point. 
"How was it, doll?" He loves to hear you talk about it as he bruises your ass. "Any luck?" 
Today, though, something different happens.
You don't know if it's resignation and surrender finally settling in or if you have actually started to like this life.
How James gives you a nod of approval and pats your head rewardingly whenever you follow all your rules without any trouble.
The way he lets you stay up past your bed time (yes you have one because good wives are healthy for their husbands) to read a book or watch a movie.
If you were extra good and talked to him (though he was a man of a few words) and helped him out with a little farming thing he had going on in the backyard/patio, he would even let you sleep in the following morning. 
No stress or pulling yourself through classes and tight budgets.
Just being what he considered good and then whatever you would mention briefly would be in the house within the next few days.
When he is done punishing you, you thank him and apologize according to routine. But then you hug him.
You tell yourself it is due to the sad reality that your torment is your comfort.
Has to be.
You have no choice.
And then something unexpected happens in the course of the next few days. 
While trying to make the best out of this situation, you start to notice the little things, quirks and rituals, habits and mannerisms of this man. 
How he doesn't say anything if he doesn't like a certain ingredient or condiment in something you cooked but pushes it aside to use as compost later.
The way he holds you extra tight some times when he mutters a foreign language in his sleep. 
How he stares at the scary metal arm after a long day while waiting for you to finish up dinner.
Or the way he struggles to hold himself back whenever you are in a close proximity to him because you cried once he crept his hand up your ass in a sexual way. 
You don't get him sometimes.
His morals are as mysterious as him. 
Because he kidnapped you and forced you to be his wife in a '40's way, strips you to spank and humiliate you during punishments, then bathes and comforts you in his own way of silently holding you against his chest in his arms until you calm down.
Your tears don't effect him. 
But then he refuses to touch you sexually after the one time he tried.
It takes you a while to make the most peace that you can with James, but it happens eventually because you don't have a choice.  
The loneliness starts to drive you mad otherwise.
You are helping him with his farming one day when you collapse.
James isn't happy to find out that you haven't had any of your daily water intake for the day. 
After he is sure you are hydrated, it is punishment time because caring for yourself is also a rule you are supposed to never break.
Your ass is red and seething by the time he's done. Everything is pretty much routine except that you don't sit up to apologize and maybe hug him like usual.
Not even when he pats your ass to signal that he's done.
"H- Hubby?" You sniffle as you use the endearment.
It had been a proud discovery of yours.
James always gave in a little whenever you used it.
"Yes, little mouse?" You bite your lips as your thighs tremble.
Fuck.
"Y- You say we are husband and wife…"
"What about it?"
You bite your lip as you push your ass out and towards him, letting your legs part.
"Then why don't we act like it?" James is good at concealing his emotions and showing restraint.
But he can't help the way his cock hardens at the sight your pretty red thighs reveal to him.
Your perfect pussy is glistening with your creamy arousal, the entrance of your vagina blinking to indicate its need to be filled.
Fuck. 
Though James starts off small and slow with his fingers rubbing your cunt, the night ends with him balls deep into your pussy with his length rearranging your organs.
Whatever was left of you to own for him, he does so after that night.
You cannot go on for long without having some sort of physical proximity to him.
The sex is wild and it's amazing with his stamina. 
It is also instrumental in bringing you two closer than ever. 
James opens up to you slowly, but only when you ask about it.
You had done so in the past as well. 
But since it's genuine curiosity now, he feels comfortable telling you all about it.
It is a lot for you to take in and you almost don't believe him until he shows you some of his belongings from his time.
Things drift on as smoothly for a while as the waves outside your house.
And then comes the ultimate test. 
Which decides the course of your future with him.
He is still asleep one morning when you wake up.
It isn't a usual occurrence. 
But you had introduced him to comics lately and he had been obsessed with them despite claiming that they were too childish and unrealistic. 
While he had a metal arm himself…
You adjust the quilt before getting ready for the day and heading out to make breakfast. 
It is when you realize in panic that there aren't any apples left even though James had asked you to make a grocery list (that started when he started trusting you more) and you had assured him that you had enough apples for a while.
"I am gonna get the hairbrush today, I swear to God!" You mutter to yourself as you rush through the house like a headless chicken. 
Thankfully, your garden had an apple tree so you could save yourself from a breakfast spanking at the very least.
But something standing next to the dock catches your attention before you can the apples you try to budge free from their branches.
A motorboat. 
Before you can decide what you think of it, you are standing next to it on the dock.
It has fuel and a map. The key is in the ignition.
You narrow your eyes and feel your head splitting. 
A lot goes through your mind.
Flashbacks play before your eyes.
It is almost a full circle moment. 
And then you are standing in front of James who is seated on a stool next to the kitchen counter you use for dining. 
His head is lowered as he sips on his coffee and stabs at the breakfast you prepared with a fork.
"Hubby?" Your captor freezes before he slowly looks up at you. 
The blue of his eyes is troubled. He is in disbelief. As though he wasn't expecting you to be standing here.
"There is a boat outside. Do you think someone could be–" 
"You didn't leave." His voice is heavy. 
"What kind of a wife leaves her home?"
You two just stare at each other for a while. 
No words exchanged.
Then, for the first time ever, James gets up and hurriedly closes the distance between you two, enveloping you in his arms before pushing you against the wall behind you.
"I felt so angry and wronged that I thought I could take anything because I deserved it after everything that happened to me but… I love you too much, mouse."
He has never spoken this earnestly before.
"I just realized that I do too."
James kisses you passionately before you wrap yourself around him and close your eyes blissfully. 
He tightens his own arms around you gladly.
He would have hated to end up back on square one with you had you chosen to try and escape. 
The boat would have blown up a small fuse that would have been loud enough for his enhanced hearing if someone– you, were to turn the keys in the ignition.
Yes, he wasn't expecting you to be back but only too soon.
It was a test and you passed. 
As always, James stuck to his ways and rewarded you for being such a good wife. 
By giving you a ring, a new wardrobe and a baby that was the first of many to come.
.
What do you think hAH-
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heyhihellosworld · 2 months
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𝐋𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐦𝐲 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦𝐬
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Carlos Sainz x reader
Word count: 2.5k
Warnings: Smut, feeling guilty about sexual thoughts, age gap, I think that's it?
Notes: Heyyy, Carlos??? Hope I read this request right! Probably changed it a bit. This is more from Carlos perspective than anything else
Request Don't know if you are taking any requests or not, but how's best friend brother's with Carlos Sainz when suddenly having ons with the reader and Carlos been wondering how having her in his bed
Pt 2 here
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Carlos breathed in the familiar hot air as he stepped out of his car and onto the gravel of his family home. He had finally touched down on home ground and planned to spend the majority of his summer break here.
He smiled to himself as he watched the big house and the green grass. He loved this house, he loved their summers and he was excited to spend some down time with his family.
Ana and y/n should be there already, Blanca maybe but she could also arrive later. His parents weren't home, he knew that already but they would come in an hour or so.
Someone was home at least judging by the open porch door and small talk coming from the other side of the deck.
Carlos walked over the grass, trying to see who was there but he opted to take in his bags first. He had just stepped into the big hallway when he saw a figure from the big window. Ana was there and.. who was that? All he could see was a beautiful woman, hair moving in the wind and a beautiful figure on the deck. Carlos swallowed before moving away, it was rude to stare.
Who was that? Was that.. no it couldn't be Y/n, could it? But who else would be here to stay for the summer. It was always Y/n.
Carlos' mind ran on high speed as he tried to process who else it could be because this was certainly not the Y/n he remembered. No, last summer you had been this, very cute sure, but nerdy little girl who had barely graduated school and was now working at the downtown café whilst studying in university.
You had always been sweet and cute but he had never ever seen you as attractive. No this, this was surely someone else. Maybe one of Blankas work-friends. It could not be you.
Carlos forced the thoughts away as he marveled into the house, his house. It was hot, summer and he was settling for some downtime before the next part of the season began, that was the focus he reminded himself of.
He opted to start on food, eyes flickering back to the garden to try and get a look at whoever it was out there but they had disappeared from the kitchen view. Maybe that was for the better actually.
"Carlos!"Carlos flinched at the sound of his name, too deep in thoughts to realize someone had entered the open kitchen from the patio-doors in the living room.
He turned around with a wide smile as he recognized your voice opening his arms to hug you which you welcomed with a giggle.
His face fell however when he looked at you after you had stepped away. What the fuck had happened over winter?
The before young, teenage-looking girl had really grown into a young looking sure, but gorgeous woman. Face more mature-looking, smile as captivating as always and your body. Carlos had to force himself to look at your face as you were dressed down in only a small skirt and a bikini-top from having been sunbathing and swimming all morning.
Fuck it was you, how?
He quickly averted his eyes from your body to look at your face
"Hola Y/n" he smiled warmly as you hugged him in greeting. "We thought you came but we didn't see you" you smiled as you watched the counter top that was filled with ingredients. "Sorry, I planned on going out but..."
That Ana came out was perfect timing because Carlos had no idea how to finish that sentence. "Carlos! Why didn't you come out to greet us?!" she scolded as she wrapped her brother into a warm hug, Carlos stuttered, what he wanted to say, or the reason for it was not something he wanted to say at all so instead he shrugged. "I was about too" he said instead , ignoring the look Ana gave him and the food on the counter.
Ana dropped it quickly, the excitement of seeing her brother taking over the weird behavior and she soon proceeded to ask him a million questions but it was all like usual with the Sainz siblings.
You were happy, content in stretching out on the sofa and listening to their chat during the evening and when the night came you gladly welcomed the soft bed in the Sainz's guest room.
-
Carlos wanted to hit the person of his family that had suggested a boat day. He loved being on the boat and he loved being with his family and the boat was a tradition in your summers. You used to take the boat out to a small little island only an hour away and spend the day swimming, laughing and grilling before going back home in the evening when the light had already gone away and the city lights illuminated in the water.
However the only thing he could concentrate on all day was you in your tiny little bikini that barely left anything to the imagination. If he was realistic it was a normal bikini, but it was still tiny and he could barely keep his eyes off of you.
When you had been exiting from the water with your hair drenched and dripping with a huge smile on your face he had stared so long that Blanca had hit him in the back of the head with a scolding look and Carlos had coughed, looking away feeling guilty.
It was a nice day, the sun grilling your skin and everyone was happy that summer had finally arrived. Carlos' parents grilled over the open fireplace as everyone settled down, chatting lowly and laughing.
He enjoyed it, laughing and joking with you and his sisters, chatting with his parents. Swimming in the hot sun. It was a great day but when the time came and you decked the boat and walked up to the villa Carlos felt like he would snap off the tension in his body.
-
He still couldn't really grasp it, couldn't grasp how attracted he suddenly was to you.
He groaned as he collapsed down on his bed, his head in an awkward position against the headboard. He let out an annoyed groan and flopped down in an ungraceful movement.
He felt annoyed, tight like a string as he tried to sit more comfortably. He was hard in his sweatpants and that annoyed him more than anything else. He felt ridiculous, like a teenage boy watching a pornmagazine for the first time. All this for only a little bikini, it was ridiculous but he couldn't help it, couldn't make it go away.
He closed his eyes, groaning when the only thing he saw in his head was just in that stupid little bikini. He couldn't help it when his hand crept down his body, his mind telling him it was wrong but the satisfaction he felt when he finally wrapped his hand around his cock pushed away all those thoughts until the only thing he could think about was dirty dreams.
At first the pictures were more okay, if there were something like this in picturing his sister's younger friend while jerking off.
It was you, in that bikini you had stropped around in all day, your smile and your elegant figure. Then it was your lips, then it morphed into your lips wrapped around his cock and from there on he was screwed.
He pictured how you would look as you sucked him off, he could picture the look in your eyes as you would’ve licked over his tip, he could almost hear the sounds you would make as he pushed your head that slight bit further.
He pictured laying you down on his crisp white sheets, pictured how he would pull your legs apart, could hear your moans in his head.
He could almost taste her on his tongue, see her face contorted in pleasure. His mind wandered further and further away from reality as his hand moved up and down his shaft. He would feel guilty, he would feel so guilty afterwards but right now, at this moment he only felt pleasure and his thoughts only added to his arousal.
It was wrong, he knew it, but he didn't feel it. It felt fucking amazing, the pictures, the imaginition he had made him harder than he'd been in a long time.
He pictured your face as he would fuck you, imagining how hot you would feel around him, how tight you would be. He pictured the sounds you would make as he made you orgasm, the picture stuck in his head as he finally released with a long groan, head falling back as the relief finally washed over him.
Only then did the realization hit and he felt disgusted over himself. The cum on his skin added to the sick feeling in his chest. It was not normal. It was disgusting. Jerking off to Ana's best friend who was many years younger than himself just because he'd find out she'd been growing curves. He felt a tight feeling in his stomach, like he would need to throw up. He hurried into the bathroom and jumped into the shower like he was on fire.
His skin was red where he had roughly scrubbed the cum of his skin and he felt slightly better when he dressed in clean clothes and shook the water off his hair. Maybe it was okay.
The guilt however came back full force once he saw you on the sofa with Blanca, gossiping and laughing. He had to look away to swallow the lump in his throat that had formed.
-
You were sprawled out in one of the outdoor chairs next to Blanca in the hot sun. You had just been taking a dip in the ocean and was now drying up on the big deck of the Sainz's house.
"Do you think Carlos has anything against me?" you asked Blanca randomly, noticing the way she jerked up in her chair to give you a wild look.
"Que?! Carlos loves you silly" she waved you off. Summer at Sainz, anything with the Sainz's had been always consisting in your life. You and Ana had met in kindergarten. She was two years older than you but somehow you had stuck together throughout school and then throughout adulthood. You had spent every summer since then here, in the amazing villa with her family. You had traveled with them, watched Carlos's races, you had been a part of them forever so maybe you understood her wild look but still. It had felt like something was bothering him these first couple of days. He had been acting slightly... stiff around you.
"I know... I don't know why but it's just.. he has been so awkward with me, barely spoken to me alone" you shrugged and Blanca hummed. "I think Carlos is having a bit of a crisis" Blanca grinned as she leant back in the soft chair
This time you sat up to give her a look. "What do you mean? Is something wrong with his racing?"
Blanca laughed and shook her head with a huge grin on her face. "No, not about racing" she calmed
"I think little Carlos is having a crisis about how gorgeous you have become" she smiled before adding "You have always been gorgeous, but over the winter..." she made a face expression as if to express the change and you giggled, it was true. You had matured in your body a lot over the winter, felt more comfortable, more secure.
"I don't think that's it though" you hummed, waving it off. Carlos was a formula one driver, he could basically chat up and model he wanted, and have the most gorgeous girls. He had many options, he would never choose you, his sister's friend.
"I think it is, I've catched him staring a bit too long and often. And every time I catch him with a slap on his head he looks extremely guilty"
You giggled at that, leaning back into the seat "I'm pretty happy with that reason to be honest" you smirked at Blanca who shook her head with a grin on her face "Watch it"
-
The next few days were fine, he still got a semi everytime you walked around in your mini bikinis and those shorts that showed all of your ass but he tried to control himself, felt he succeeded okay.
It was on the fourth day he snapped again. You had been taking a walk from the restaurant you had eaten at and stopped to buy ice cream and take a dip in the ocean.
You were yet again wearing only your bikini top and those tiny shorts that felt unnecessary to even have on because they didn't hide anything in Carlos's mind. Your hair was once again wet, dripping down your back and then it was the ice cream.
He knew it was just in his head, but it felt like you were provoking him, licking the tip of it in such a way he almost wanted to moan.
When he came back home he immediately walked up to his room and into the shower. He couldn't stop the images of going wild. Once again you were on the floor looking up at him with those big innocent eyes and licking the tip of his dick just as you had been the ice cream.
He could feel the tip of your tongue, could hear the small sound you surely would make at the taste of his precum that was pearling at his tip, he slid his thumb over it, imagining it was your tongue and he moaned loudly. He gripped his cock harder, slowly moving it down, imaging it was your mouth sinking down on him. The picture was so hot he jerked in his hold.
He sped up eventually, eyes closing to savor the filthy imaginations that were playing in his mind, like a slideshow. He could feel your touch, hear your voice and see you. It was all too much and he soon came over his hand, for the second time thinking about you.
He sighed as he let the water run down his body, cleaning him up and he let his head fall back against the tile. Maybe it was what it was. He would move on eventually, not get hard at the mere sight of you. It would be fine.
Carlos didn't fight it anymore, there was nothing he could do about his body's reaction. He sighed deeply and shrugged to himself. He lost the battle and he was really fucking attracted to you. Maybe that was just how it was now. 
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marvelandponder · 1 year
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one amazing thing about the Owl House finale is that it finally contextualized for me one of the central metaphors of the show. Spoilers for the series finale Watching and Dreaming ahead.
we good? no one spoiling themselves? beauty
for a long time now, I thought we had a pretty standard coming-of-age metaphor dichotomized by the show's central antagonists. you've got your protestant witch hunter Belos who introduces a maturity and ugliness to Luz's narrative; he clearly represents a particular, restricting form of adulthood, and just when Belos becomes his most threatening, boom, enter the Collector, Luz's dangerously naïve inner child to ruin all her development on the Boiling Isles. Seems simple enough
what I didn't anticipate was just how specific and personal their roles in the story actually are to Luz once you have the full context from the series finale
look again
this story - this whole series - is about the grief that a neurodivergent kid experienced at a young age, introducing the cruelty of loss and adulthood before she was ready to handle it. and, how to reclaim a more whole understanding of herself as she rebuilds her life with people who get her
Belos is designed to infect the titan carcass like a disease. a cancer. it's super goddamn significant that the titan is King's dad (King, who became Luz's younger brother). they set up Belos not just to be another fascist kids' cartoon villain (although yeah, he do be doing some of that), but to specifically become a force that oppressed the weirdness from the one place that understood Luz. the Iles. the dad. And by the end of the story, Belos's goopy body-horror isn't just for show, he's just like the cancer or other terminal disease that took Luz's dad from her
he's the thing Luz hasn't processed in season 1 that comes in at the end like a warning. he's the threat that forces Luz to grapple with her own humanity, feeling somehow (often completely unjustifiably) harmful to those around her, through the grief she doesn't want to be a burden or the weirdness (neurodivergence) others don't understand. he's the force that says there is something wrong with you, Luz, give in to your grief, this is what you can't face. this is the lie you've been telling to those closest to you: that you're okay
then you have the Collector. (notable that he's a collector, and we see Luz's mom and dad had quite the collection of nerdy memorabilia)
the Collector is the child too young to understand death. Too young to understand consequences, or why their playmates don't feel like playing anymore with someone so weird and maybe a bit too involved in their own world. The Collector is Luz's inner child, that kid we see right before the "worst week ever" — the one who didn't and couldn't understand what was about to happen even as it was going down. unapologetically weird, a bit destructive and short-sighted, but wholly colourful, wholly themselves. that's why the Collector wants to live out Luz's adventures, but without all the depth. just the fun escapist fantasy
but don't think I forgot the internal conflict! :D
because Camila's role also gets an added depth too: Camila was framed at the outset of the series as someone who loved Luz, but wanted her to fit inside a box that she just didn't. later, Luz completely misconstrued her mom's breakdown when she learned that Luz chose to run away. as many people have pointed out by now, Luz misremembers the actual dialogue that Camila says: Camila only wanted her daughter safe, not to lose her. Luz meanwhile felt like she had to choose to destroy this part of herself, or give up her connection with her mom altogether
but we know now Camila actually deeply relates to Luz. she may not understand Luz's fascination with horrific things like on the boiling isles (very akin to a kid getting more grim hobbies in the wake of a death, like Luz's taxidermy), but she loves Luz for who she is. all of her. she never wanted Luz to change
Luz was the one framing the central conflict of the show as go back to her mom or stay in the boiling isles. Luz was the one who felt like she had to punish herself by rejecting the one place where she felt like herself. once Camila realizes what's been going on, and how deeply connected it is to the loss of Luz's dad, she knows Luz is trying to make a "very bad choice for herself." And she won't let that happen (what a great mom!!)
But Luz does have one real choice ahead of her
because of the inner child who once again has to confront death (this time, Luz's own), Luz is able to connect with a father figure, the titan, the one place she feels understood. in the form of a power-up that makes her into a fantasy witch straight out of the Good Witch Azura, the one place she got joy after that huge loss, the titan gives her the strength to face the cancer—a force draining everything good in her life from her and making her question she deserves it in the first place—but only if she can choose herself
and that means choosing happiness, choosing found family, choosing love and friendship and self-discovery in the place she feels most at home! every bond she's forged, everything she's worked for, it all comes down to choosing to face grief and move on in life with weirdos who stick together.
hoot hoot, that's some good metaphor
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loaksky · 1 year
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— 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘵𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘣𝘪𝘯𝘥 𝘶𝘴
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the deets — in which you, a quiet healer in the tribe, have the biggest crush on the upcoming leader. sometimes you think the feelings could be mutual. until one night in the glowing forest shatters that.
the who — neteyam x fem omatikaya!reader
the word count — like 7.6k (jesus h. christ)
the tags — idiots-to-lovers (it's teyam, he's the dummy), childhood friends-to-lovers, one-sided pining (reader is a softie).
the warnings — language, a lil kithy kithy, neteyam's emotionally constipated, but he redeems himself! reader's kind of a pushover, but it comes full circle!
the notes — first post for avatar & i'm really excited but a lil nervous bc like ??? i haven't written fanfic in SO long. i imagine neteyam & reader to be a few years older in this fic (eighteen or nineteen), but at the same time the circumstances could fit their current age as well. finally, this is written in a heinous blend of second / third. don't know how to explain, but i think it flows okay? if you like it please leave a request or let's have a chat! (also barely proofread oops).
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YOU AND NETEYAM HAVE ALWAYS BEEN IN DISTANT ORBIT. Many would argue the two of you are cut from the same cloth; quiet, noble, mature, but you couldn't feel even more disconnected from the tribe's golden boy even if a chasm would crack the earth between you.
It's why you think it's silly that you'd develop such a yearning, your heart thudding like a war drum every time his amber eyes flit to yours. There's never any weight to his gaze, just fleeting glances among frequent observation, but you can't help but stare.
It doesn't help that his youngest siblings cling to you like a second and third skin, chattering excitedly about whatever piques their immediate interest. You just listen and hum your acknowledgements, a comfort to the two as you move through your studies.
Oftentimes he's sent to fetch his siblings, clearing his throat outside of the tent's flaps to announce himself, then wiggling a few fingers through the opening before peering in.
He's always in a hurry, never biting when you offer him opportunities to linger. You understand, how busy it can be when the whole clan begins to rely on you. So you bask in the short-lived moments in his space, skin scented with salt and the tang of the foliage.
But there are moments when you truly think he sees you. When you cross paths during clan meals, and the smallest of smiles twitches in his lips when you cut fruit and he's the first you offer to. When it's time to train to shoot your bows and he adjusts your form with a brief brush of his fingers on your elbow. When all of the older healers are unavailable and he shyly peeks his head into your tent for a quick patch up.
Nevermind the small tells stored in your short-term, but the little slivers of time when you were both growing into yourselves. When you were seven and he'd carried you to the elders when you hurt yourself. When some of the older kids in the clan would pick on you for keeping to yourself and he'd tell them that it was unbecoming and cowardly to pick on someone weaker than them. When he picked a flower during a group excursion into the deep depths of the forest and stuck the glowing stem in your satchel.
You had fallen so hard for Neteyam and your only hope is that he'd be at the end of the fall to catch you.
“You're not listening, ________!” Tuk whines and you look up from the scrolls you unfurled from the basket moments before she walked in.
“Sorry,” you murmur. “I have a lot on my mind.”
There's a small giggle from somewhere else in the tent and you peer from Tuk to Kiri who beads an anklet on her own.
“Yeah, like big brother,” Tuk teases, turning her attention back to her own beadwork.
Kiri's face splits into a grin.
“You've been lost in thought a lot more recently,” she observes. “Could Tuk be correct?”
You don't bother to deny it, the obvious flush in your cheeks a dead giveaway. Kiri's always been perceptive and the more you fight her on it, the longer she'll draw it out.
“I think it's worth a shot,” Kiri says. “Neteyam’s always had a soft spot for you.”
It's a million degrees hotter in the tent.
“You don't have to do that,” you say quietly, slouching in your seat.
“Do what?” Kiri challenges.
“Pretend I have a chance.”
Kiri makes a face.
“You do!” she argues. “Neteyam's just shy.”
You're silent for a moment, fingers twitching over a tear in the scroll. You want to believe her, tell her that you think it could be worth a shot, too. But you scent him before you hear him, and then you hear him before you see him.
Four blue fingers wiggle in the tent's opening before Neteyam is poking his head inside.
“Tuk? Kiri?” his voice rumbles. “Ready?”
Kiri glances at you as she stands to her feet and begins gathering her things. Her eyebrows do a little dance, eyes widening as she tilts her head discreetly to her brother.
“I'll see you,” you say quietly, patting Tuk on the back of her leg as she drops her finished anklet in your lap and giggles at you.
You follow their movements as they exit the tent through where Neteyam holds the flap open for them patiently.
He simply lifts a hand as a silent greeting and you wait until they're out of sight and earshot to expel the breath you'd been holding and slump down on your pillow.
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In hindsight, you should have been more careful. Neteyam was a skillful hunter, the tribe's best warrior after his father. It's only normal that he'd be in the dense forest when you were plucking flowers and herbs for your salves, speaking quietly to Eywa about your concerns.
“Please, Great Mother,” you whisper, the woodsprites caressing the skin of your arms. "Please give me a sign, any form of motivation to be brave about my feelings."
The grass below your toes lights up and tickles the pads of your fingers as you pluck the glowing flowers.
There's a trail of them, purple and pink, and you pluck and pluck and pluck until you're led to the mouth of a clearing.
Something salty and tangy circles your figure and like usual, you scent him before you see him. When your gaze latches onto his lithe figure, you grin a little, lips parting to announce yourself. This must be your sign, of how vast and great the forests are surrounding your looming home tree, it must be fate that you stumble upon him at this hour.
But his name dies on your tongue when he shifts and you see the silhouette of another pressed to his side.
It's another Omaticaya girl, pretty and tall. You'd know her anywhere, the waves of her thick hair, the tinkle of her dainty laugh. But she is fierce all the same, far from perfect, but gritty enough that it doesn't matter.
Te'feyra draws a bow and one of Neteyam's hands come up to adjust her front grasp, fingers closing over hers and the arrow.
“Steady hands to make up for the recoil,” he says softly and your heart is in your throat.
He's engulfing her as she takes her aim and sends the arrow flying through the air.
Somewhere unknown to you, the arrow sticks its landing and Te'feyra jumps excitedly, pressing her lips to Neteyam's briefly.
You back away from the clearing, eyes burning as you fist the flowers so hard they wilt in your hands. A twig snaps underneath your weight and from your distance, you see the glow of Neteyam and Te'feyra's eyes through the brush.
You take off running without a single word, and despite your stomach tearing itself to ribbons, you thank Eywa for the clarity.
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“Something's wrong,” Kiri says to you days later.
Instead of the tent, you two are sitting on opposing branches of a thick tree, observing the flora and fauna of your corner of the forest. You decide that you need some time away from the bustle of the clan's circle and venture off into the opposite side of the woods.
“Why do you say?” you wonder, scribbling onto one of your scrolls.
“You're naturally quiet, I get that, but the past few days, I feel like I've been in the presence of the dead,” she sighs, staring down at you from the branch above. “And Ewya's given me the feeling that all may not be well with you.”
You lick your teeth, then roll your lips nervously.
“I told you Neteyam didn't like me,” you admit.
Kiri's eyebrows furrow.
“What are you talking about?”
“I saw him,” you sigh, fiddling with your pen. “In the forest with Te'feyra. She kissed him.”
Kiri curses under her breath.
“This is stupid,” she huffs. “He's just being stupid. Neteyam likes you and I'm going to prove it.”
You open your mouth to protest, but Kiri's already jumping down from the branches of the tree and dragging you with her through the darkening forest.
“Kiri, this isn't necessary,” you finally pipe up. “It's okay if the feeling isn't mutual, I never expected it to be.”
Kiri stops in her tracks and her pinched face softens, braids swinging by the set of her jaw.
“________, we all grew up together,” she says softly. “I know my brother, and I know you. You two belong together, I feel it.”
You swallow around nothing, allowing her to drag you through the forest and back into the clan's main circle.
“Hey, Kiri! ________, where are you two headed off to in such a rush?” one of the elders calls from where they're working on tools.
Kiri smiles politely.
“Very important business,” she replies quickly, fingers tightening around your wrist to pull you across the grass.
You stop in front of their family's hometree and Kiri guides you through vines and steep inclines before pausing in front of their family's tent.
Lo'ak's voice sounds from within, whiny and irritated.
“Bro, are you being serious right now?” he squeaks and Neteyam grunts, obviously bored.
“Frankly, Lo'ak this has nothing to do with you,” he says.
“Dude, yes it does,” Lo'ak argues. “You've inadvertently involved everyone in this affair because you won't get your head out of your ass for three seconds and just admit that you like her.”
“I don't like, ________,” he says simply and Kiri freezes in front of you.
You chew the inside of your cheek, fingers twitching in Kiri's loosened hold.
“Who are you trying to convince?” Lo'ak moans. “You're really going to commit to Te'feyra even though you have no interest in her?”
“Te'feyra is a great huntress,” Neteyam says simply. “She's well-loved, a strong leader. What's there not to like?”
“________ is all of those things,” Lo'ak says. “She's a talented healer, always patches you up when you get yourself in trouble. The clan loves her, Tuk and Kiri love her, Mom and Dad love her.”
“The clan barely knows that ________ exists,” Neteyam says and you wince.
Kiri makes a move to infiltrate the heated conversation, but you put a hand on her shoulder and shake your head.
“Dude, that's low,” Lo'ak scoffs in disbelief.
“________ is a sweet girl, but she's weak. She's hollow and does what she's told. I wouldn't want to spend my life bonded to someone so passive,” Neteyam says plainly and Lo'ak lets out an exasperated hiss.
“You're kidding right? ________ is amazing,” Lo'ak challenges. “She's quiet, but she's caring. She's resilient and intelligent and anyone would be lucky to be bonded to someone like her, your stupid ass included.”
“Maybe you should focus more on training for your rite rather than trying to play matchmaker,” Neteyam says, showing the first signs of annoyance.
“You just won't admit that for the first time you're scared,” Lo'ak finally says.
Everything seems to still and Lo'ak presses on.
“Everyone loves you, you're the clan's golden child and you can do no wrong. You like ________ so much, but you're afraid that you'll let her down,” Lo'ak says fiercely. “But you don't realize that being a pussy about your feelings is the ultimate let down!”
“You'd know a lot about being a let down, wouldn't you,” Neteyam grumbles.
There's a split second of silence before Neteyam lets out a loud grunt of pain. The flap to their tent flies open and Lo'ak freezes before you and Kiri.
His eyes meet yours and his gaze softens before stalking past.
Neteyam stands stunned in the middle of the tent, lip bruised and bleeding. His gaze swings to the arch way, face falling when he finds you standing behind his younger sister.
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“Wanna go swimming?” Tuk asks you the next evening, after dinner.
You smile down at her weakly, heart melting when she pets your hand. You can't deny her, nodding gently as you stand from where you're sitting on the outer circle of the scattered clan.
“Carry me?” she asks sweetly.
You heave her up with a grunt and she grins at you, playing with one of the braids in your hair. Her small fingers caress the skin of your cheek and you blink when she ghosts over your eyelid.
“Pretty,” she whispers, head nestling on your shoulder.
“I think you're prettier,” you tell her, readjusting her growing form as you walk through the brush, towards the rush of the waterfall.
You don't realize that there's a set of eyes on you, watching as you disappear through the trees with Tuk.
The cliff that houses the waterfall towers above you two in a semicircle, the water rippling gently as Tuk squirms from your grasp and splashes through the shallow pool.
“Stay close, Tuk,” you coo, toes wiggling through the pebbles washed up on the tiny shore.
“I've been practicing!” Tuk tells you. “Wanna see how long I can hold my breath under water?”
“Stay in shallow waters,” you advise her, wading into the pool until you're waist deep.
Tuk dramatically inhales and then sinks down under the surface. Something cracks in the distance and you glance around, met with the stillness of the forest and the chirp of bugs.
When you turn your attention back to Tuk, you smile fondly as you wait for her to emerge, counting the seconds diligently to report to her chubby cheeks.
Fifteen pass, then thirty. Your smile begins to fade as your arms feel around in the water around you.
“Tuk?” you call out, chest tightening when you're met with the subtle rush of the glittering cascade from the waterfall up above.
You push forward in the water until your chin touches the surface.
“Tuktirey!” you shout, thrashing around the pool, searching for her tiny frame through the illumination. “Tuk!”
Your toes lose purchase as the water deepens and you begin to panic without the youngest Sully in sight. You turn when you hear a splash, Tuk giggling on the shore.
Your stomach churns hard and Tuk's face falls when she sees your panicked expression.
“Tuk, I-I can't swim well!” you cry out, legs flailing as you splash through the water. You try to dig your toes in the earth below, but you're just shy of the mark.
Tuk looks scared on the shore, fidgeting as she looks around desperately.
“You're too deep, ________!” Tuk whines, voice laced with tears.
Your legs ache, head lolling under the water for a moment before you emerge with a splutter.
“Get– Go get help!” you instruct her, feeling your calves begin to burn as you try to keep yourself afloat. You don't know how long you'll be able to tread water. “I'll be okay, little one. Hurry!”
Tuk turns, picking up her satchel as she makes way for the path you took. When she's out of sight, you fall slack, chest heaving as you try to use your skinny arms to paddle at the water.
Meanwhile, Tuktirey runs through the forest, tears spilling down her rounded cheeks as she trips over sprawling roots and nudges low-hanging vines from the pathway.
She skids to a stop when Neteyam, who had finally worked up the nerve to excuse himself from dinner, comes into view.
He turns when he hears her wailing, face scrunching when he registers his youngest sibling's anguish.
“Tuk, wha—”
She grabs at his hands, tugging him towards the path to the waterfall.
“________ needs help!” she cries. “She can't swim!”
Neteyam's ears prick at the mention of your name, scooping up his youngest sibling in his arms before breaking into a sprint through the brush of the brightening forest. The woodsprites begin to emerge and he barrels into the clearing of the waterfall breathlessly.
It's still, like it's been untouched and his heart hammers nervously in his chest, eyes searching the pool for any sign of you.
He's setting Tuk down quickly before splash desperately into the water.
“_______!” he calls.
He ducks underneath the surface, eyes open wide as he searches for you. And there you are, body slack as you sink slowly to the bottom of the rocky pool.
He dives forward, lungs burning as he cuts through the waters with lean arms. His fingers circle one of your wrists, the other hand winding around your waist as he propels you two up above the water. He chokes on a breath, hand coming up to touch your face.
Your head lolls to the side, eyes shut as Neteyam holds you close.
“Neteyam!” Te'feyra calls from the shore, having followed him after being rebuffed during dinner.
Kiri and Lo'ak are close behind, eyes wide when they see their eldest brother wading quickly through the waters with your unconscious form in his arms.
“Neteyam,” Te'feyra repeats, hand coming to grasp his bicep.
“Not now,” he grunts, tugging his arm from her grasp to march through the brush of the forest.
Woodsprites surround you two as he takes you back to the village, a silent plea to the Great Mother not to take you away weighing heavy on his lips.
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You awake to a shining sun and a wet towel on your head. You squint against the beaming light and sit up abruptly as the prior night dawns you like a swift strike to the gut.
“Whoa, wait, slow down,” a thick voice rumbles.
You scent him before you see him.
Neteyam's hands are on you, guiding you back to rest on the pile of pillows that had propped you up before.
You shoot up again anyways.
“Where's Tuk?” you ask anxiously.
“Tuk's fine,” Neteyam says. “She's eating breakfast with Kiri and Mom.”
You lean back in relief, eyes squeezing shut as you wheeze out a sigh.
His hands are on you again, gentle, warm as he takes the towel from your forehead and wipes your face to refresh you.
“Are you okay?” he asks quietly, hesitantly.
You pause a moment, but then nod.
“Yeah,” you affirm hoarsely. “M'fine.”
Neteyam just stares at you, yellow eyes unblinking and you know this isn't like one of those fleeting moments. He sees you and it makes your gut churn hard.
“I'll be okay here,” you say quietly. “You may have...someone, you know, waiting for you.”
Te'feyra's name is a silent implication and Neteyam doesn't look amused.
“I told them I would look after you until you're fully well,” he counters, wringing the towel into a bowl that sits next to the mound of blankets your rest on.
You fiddle with your fingers, fully disheartened because even in times like these, he remains the diligent leader-in-training that he is.
The air in the tent is think and you can't breathe.
“I'd like some air,” you whisper, crawling from the soft mat to climb to your feet shakily.
“You need to rest,” Neteyam says crossly, seemingly annoyed at your persistence to put as much distance as you can between the two of you.
You don't respond and finally he seems to burst.
“You can't swim and yet you still went after Tuk,” he calls after you like an accusation. “Why?”
You pause.
“Tuk is like a sister to me,” you say quietly. “I would never let anything happen to her.”
You make a move to exit the tent, but Neteyam's voice stops you in your tracks.
“You could have died,” he says quietly, and you can't place the emotion in his voice.
“I'd do it again,” you admit, craning your neck to face him. “I'm not that weak.”
Neteyam's face falls and you duck from the tent.
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Neteyam becomes restless after that moment. He loses his focus, agility taking a hit as he hunts one on one with his father.
He goes to shoot another arrow, but Jake stops him with a gentle hand on his shoulder.
“Neteyam, I know I can be hard on you,” he starts. “But I’m always here.”
“Yes sir,” Neteyam nods.
“Something’s bothering you,” Jake observes. “You’re not yourself. You’re losing focus.”
Neteyam swallows.
“Sorry, sir,” he says, head hanging.
His braids form a curtain around his face and Jake gives his shoulder a squeeze.
“Son?”
Neteyam swallows again, head tilting up to look is dad in the face.
“I don’t want to be with Te’feyra,” he admits quietly.
Jake's lips twitch.
“Well I could have told you that,” Jake scoffs, the corner of his lips twitching into a soft smile. “You look about as dead as a washed up fish when she’s around.”
Neteyam recalls the kiss she’d given him nights ago and how he'd internally recoiled, body stiff under her touch.
“I’m sorry,” he repeats.
“Why are you sorry?” Jake prods.
“Because I know Te’feyra is who the clan wants me to be with, who is my most suitable match,” he says. “I just— I don't want to let you down.”
Jake gives him an impish grin.
“Neteyam, let me give you a word of advice. There are things in this world that are suited well for each other; you and Te'feyra are one of those things. But your heart and your mind are the two most powerful things about you,” he says. “You will not be punished for giving into your heart.”
Neteyam thinks of you. He thinks of your face, the lines of your timid smile, the idents that dimple your cheeks. He thinks of your touch when he's wounded, gentle and expert, warm against his skin. He thinks of your voice, airy, soft, a low rasp.
He thinks of when he'd called you weak. Of your face, wounded and hurt. He's stricken in this moment as he realizes that strength doesn't have to be audacious. It can be quiet, small acts that become mighty.
Tuk had told him about the waterfall, how she'd wanted to pull your leg a little. You'd accepted your fate if Ewya deemed it time, you'd even sent the youngest away in the chance you wouldn't surface.
You were far from weak. Your strength ran nearly as deep as the roots of Ewya herself, yet you'd taken the criticism in stride. Let Neteyam paint you as a coward, a pushover with no spine.
“I think there’s someone you need to clear the air with,” Jake says after a few moments of silence. “She should be in her tent.”
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Neteyam's hands are clammy. It's been nearly a week since he'd last seen you. You'd reserved to spending time inside of your tent to brush up on your studies and refine your work. He'd catch glimpses of you, but you were used to blending in the background and Neteyam's used to overlooking you.
Was he being presumptuous? Maybe you only admired him as a warrior. Or perhaps it was a duty to the clan to revere him. He feels sick to his stomach thinking of confronting you. But Lo'ak wouldn't try to convince him of his own feelings if it wasn't mutual, would he?
And when had the feelings become mutual? He's recently began to think that perhaps he'd always liked you because you were the only one who didn't actively vie for his affection. Who only saw him as Neteyam, an equal, not Neteyam, the Olo’eyktan's son.
Maybe it was whenever he'd see you wandering in the forest during his hunting trips, murmuring to yourself as you picked herbs and flowers for you studies. Or maybe when he'd spot you still high on the branches of the lofty trees with a tablet of paper and ink. Maybe it was when you'd smile at him shyly when he'd adjust your form during archery and it'd melt his insides. Or when you two were little and he'd plucked flowers for everyone and you were the only one who'd smiled at it sticking out of your satchel.
If he recalls correctly, it's pressed to a scroll hanging in your tent and that alone makes his heart race.
Maybe you two are inevitable and he'd only prolonged it because of his own fears.
“Neteyam!”
Te’feyra steps in his line of sight, standing before him and the hometree that houses your tent. He glances away when she stops in front of him.
“Te’feyra,” he greets cordially.
“I haven't seen you since the incident with ________,” she says. “Are you alright?”
Neteyam nods.
“Never better,” he says simply.
“After dinner we should–”
He spots you, satchel thrown over your shoulder. You glance his way momentarily, but scurry in the direction of your tent when you lock eyes with him.
“If you will excuse me, please,” he says politely, extricating himself from Te’feyra to follow after you.
He catches up to you right outside of your tent.
“________!” he calls.
You freeze almost imperceptibly, but continue on your way, climbing the flattened incline spiraling around the center of the hometree.
“________,” he murmurs, fist closing around your skinny bicep.
You jolt to a stop, golden eyes razor sharp as you glance down at him. Your fist is wrapped tight around the strap of the satchel, knuckles stretched taut.
“Neteyam,” you reply softly. “Yes?”
He opens his mouth to say something, but finds that his tongue weighs heavy behind his lips.
“If you seek help, there are elders available for healing,” you inform him, making a move to remove your arm from his grasp.
He instinctively tightens his grasp and you shift uncomfortably.
“Sorry, sorry,” he says quietly, pulling away. “I just want to speak with you.”
A few beats pass as you blink at him.
“Well?”
“Oh,” he swallows. “Can I come in?”
You turn to face the flap of your tent before craning your long neck over your shoulder to nod.
“Sure,” you agree, holding the hide open to let him in.
You step in after him, table scattered with mixtures of finely-pounded dust, scrolls of research and bundles of materials.
You set your satchel down and begin unloading your finds from you excursion.
Meanwhile, Neteyam paces nervously, trailing the circumference of your tent, eyes flitting every which way to take in every piece of you.
A thick silence envelops you and you clear your throat when the satchel is empty.
“You wanted to talk?” you ask, watching as he stops in front of a scrolled tacked to one of the beams.
It's the pressed flower he'd given to you all that time ago as children. It's central in the room, catching the sun so beautifully and Neteyam uses this as the last bit of courage he needs to continue.
“You kept it,” he says, voice shaky.
“Of course,” you say simply, picking through your different finds. “You gave it to me.”
Neteyam turns, looks you head on and he feels his resolve crumbling.
“You like me,” he says bluntly, afraid that if he beats around the bush, he'll cop out.
“Everyone does,” you deflect.
Neteyam's jaw locks.
“No, ________, you like me,” he repeats.
You feel small, sorting the petals by color, fingers nimble against the soft grain of the wooden tabletop.
“Presumptuous,” you hum, unable to meet his piercing gaze.
“________,” he presses.
You bite your lip, tears clouding your vision as your fingers begin to trembling through the sorting. He's being so unfair and he doesn't even know it.
“Why?” you ask shakily.
“What do you mean why?” Neteyam counters, voice taking on the same edge he did with his brother days prior and he'd interrogated him about you.
“Why are you doing this?” you croak, and he hears the tears in your voice.
He's across the floor before you can blink.
“Are you crying?” he asks, shocked.
“Why do you want me to say it so badly?” you choke, poor petals strangled in your vibrating fist. “Is it not enough? To know that I yearn for you silently? That everyone pities me because my heart belongs to someone who's already spoken for?”
Neteyam is stunned.
“I like you, Neteyam. I always have,” you say, voice raw with emotion. “It's my biggest defeat to say I always will. Is that what you want to hear?”
Your eyes are tinged red and his throat feels stuffed with cotton.
“I've always admired you,” you say quietly, between hiccuping breaths. “But I didn’t know you could be so cruel.”
Neteyam winces, every word he’d practiced earlier, completely obliterated from his short term. He knows he should just tell you, tell you that his heart yearns for yours, too. That he'd been too blinded by his impending duty to feel the full effects of what a first love could be like.
“You should go,” you say when he's silent.
You brush your tears away and pat your cheeks dry with the back of your hands as you carefully set the wilted flowers the the edge of the table.
“I–”
“Neteyam, spare me, please.”
“I don’t want to,” he finally says.
Your eyebrows furrow, eyes swollen as you gaze at him unjaded. Who he believed to be so stoic and passive now baring every possible inch to him.
“You're–”
“I don't want to be with Te'feyra,” he finally spits, fists clenched. “I won't be with her.”
Your gaze softens, lips parting to ask what's gotten into him, but he cuts you off.
“You,” he answers firmly, before the question clings in the air. “It’s you. I want to be with you.”
"Stop," you whisper, shaking your head furiously. You take a step away from where he's quickly closing in on you. “Don't–”
He pauses mid-stride and the expression on his handsome face is absolutely devastating. His chest rises and falls shakily and you take a moment to meet his eyes.
“I’m sorry I didn’t notice it before,” he says desperately, “I was scared and didn't fully realize it, but I do now.”
“That’s unfair,” you hiccup. “This isn't just on your terms. You can’t— you can’t just tell me you like me and expect me to be with you.”
These passing moments are the most he’s ever heard you speak, and he’s afraid that he's severely underestimated you. It doesn’t taste so sweet now that he’s faced with the reality of things.
“You will be the future leader of this clan,” you continue. “That is a great responsibility that you've prepared for your entire life. Who you decide to be with is a permanent fixture that cannot be undone.”
“I know, I know,” he assures you.
“You find it in your heart pity me, Neteyam,” you breathe quietly. “But do you really want to be bonded to someone passive and weak?”
He opens his mouth to argue, but you've squared your shoulders, stomach caving and expanding with a deep breath. You turn to your prior task.
“You should go,” you repeat. “Duty calls.”
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“What do you mean you need help?” Kiri asks incredulously, eyes widened at her older brother.
“________,” Neteyam says. “She's icing me out.”
Kiri's face melts in relief and she scoffs a laugh.
“Do you blame her?”
“Kiri!” he pleads.
Kiri stops her movements, falling back on her haunches to meet Neteyam's desperate gaze. It's so unlike him, being uncertain, nervous. He's picked up the habit of fiddling his fingers and Kiri snorts to herself.
“Actions,” she says simply.
“Huh?” he vocalizes.
“Words mean nothing to ________ if your actions don't support them,” she says. “This entire time you've acted so lukewarm towards her. Of course she won't believe you when you decide to acknowledge that you love her.”
Neteyam's throat bobs as he stares down at his sister.
“And how will I do that?” he presses.
Kiri shrugs.
“Not so mighty warrior now, are we?”
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As the days progress, you begin to grasp at finally coming to terms with the tattered remains of what's left of you and Neteyam's frayed relationship. Your heart hasn't stonewalled him completely, but the yearning for him has dulled to a slight ache.
His eyes are piercing every moment you share the same vicinity. Kiri would even try to argue you that it's longing, but Neteyam's a slave to his honor and you aren't convinced.
“You should pity the poor boy,” an elder tells you as you cut up ingredients for the evening's dinner.
You pause, fingers tightening around the handle of the knife. You roll your lips together before briefly meeting her gaze, warm under firelight.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you deflect, clearing your throat.
She laughs, peeling a purple fruit.
“Neteyam,” she says forwardly. “Hasn’t taken his eyes off you in who knows how long. Will you continue to let him suffer?”
You want to argue that it's you who's suffering. That the heart that beats inside the hollow of your ribcage feels like it'll tear in two every time you recall the venom in Neteyam's voice when he'd called you weak.
“I doubt his suffering has anything to do with me,” you say instead. “We are only acquaintances.”
The elder laughs again.
“Is that why he's been pestering the elders for input on how to sway your heart?”
Your head shoots up from where you've focused on the fine cuts of vegetables.
“What?”
“He’s been slacking on his duties, instead poking around the elders and villagers trying to pry information about you,” she says. “Heard him muttering about what kind of flowers you like.”
“It will take more than flowers to sway my heart,” you mumble.
“So you admit that there's something there, hmm?”
Your cheeks heat, caught like a fish in warm waters.
“I–”
“I'd argue that Neteyam’s liked you longer than you've liked him,” the elder says simply.
You bite.
“Why do you say that?”
“He's always asked Eywa for courage, and it seems like she gave you as an answer.”
The elder climbs to her feet, leaving you near the open flame. You open your mouth to call out to her, but the scent of salt and leaves envelops you before you can say anything.
You crane your neck and find Neteyam a few paces from you.
“Do you have a few moments?” he asks politely.
You want to say no, tell him that you'd offered him an infinite amount of moments that he'd spent building bridges between the two of you, but if he's a slave to his honor, you're bound by heart.
“Okay,” you say hesitantly, abandoning your task.
He holds his hand out for you to take and your fingers slide across his warm palm as he pulls you to your feet. Once he secures your hold in his, he tugs you along.
You don't know where he's taking you, or what he could possibly want with your time, but you feel a thousand times more nervous than ever now that the tangled web of your feelings drapes the both of you.
After a few moments of rugged silence, climbing through bushes and brush, he punctures the quiet.
“Are you well?” he asks.
“Yes,” you answer after a moment. “You?”
“Truthfully?” he responds, pausing to face you. You realize his hand still engulfs yours. “No.”
“No?” you parrot shakily.
“No,” he affirms. “I've been hurting actually.”
Your eyebrows furrow.
“You should seek help if you have an ongoing–”
“Here,” he says, the hand still caught in his being guided to lay flat against his chest. You can feel his heart hammering behind his ribcage. “It hurts here.”
You swallow, pulling away from his grasp when you realize his insinuation.
“Don’t,” you warn.
He breathes a shaky sigh before taking a step towards you. He's corded muscle and warmth as his palm comes to cradle your jaw. Your bottom lip twitches as you stare up at him.
“It’s always been you,” he says quietly, thumb brushing your chin as his eyes map every curve of your face. “I think I’ve always known it deep down, but...”
Your hand comes up to meet his, gently prying his touch away.
“Neteyam,” you sigh. “Had the last few days unfolded differently, I don't think you'd been saying this now.”
“Maybe not now,” he agrees. “But one day, I would. I know I would. Because when I recall every fond moment, you’re there. No matter how close to the background you get, you’re always there.”
You look skeptical, and Neteyam knows he's losing you. So he digs in the small knapsack he has slung over his broad shoulders and pulls out something thin.
When he holds it up with shaky fingers, your breath catches in your throat. Strung through the taut brown of tree vine is a line of beads identical to the one that he wears on a braid tucked behind his ear. Upon closer inspection, you notice the blue and purple beads formed to create your favorite flowers.
“Wha—”
“Until you decide you want to be mine,” he says, voice trembling nervously as he takes your arm and gently slides the band up until it fits snuggly around your bicep. “So that you remember I'm always yours.”
Your voice is caught in your throat as he brings your fingers up to his lips.
“I won’t push you,” he says when he realizes your words have evaded you. “But I’ll wait for you.”
“Neteyam–”
He simply smiles at you, golden eyes shy as he takes a step back to admire his handiwork. He seems satisfied, triumphant, when you eye the band but make no moves to remove it.
“I’ll wait for you,” he repeats, giving your fingers a squeeze before running off.
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“He did what?” Lo’ak shrills a week later.
The younger three Sully's had hunted you down and brought you to the clearing dedicated to archery training.
Slender fingers wrap around your wrist and elbow to turn your arm to examine the band with wide eyes.
You can’t help but smile gently to yourself, watching the way the sun catches the reflection of the pearlescent beads and reflects them brightly.
“I knew that dummy was planning something,” Kiri grumbles. You bite your lip when she meets your gaze. “Well?”
“Well what?” you ask, arm still in Lo’ak’s grasp.
He twists playfully and your laugh glitters in the air.
"Are you going to put my knucklehead brother out of his misery or what?" Kiri hisses, arm drawing to shoot a arrow that stabs the target about a centimeter too left.
Tuk giggles as she runs up to the target to examine the damage.
“Yeah, please do, he's in love and it's disgusting,” Lo'ak grumbles, still eyeing the cuff.
Your heart skips at the mention of love, cheeks going warm when both Kiri and Lo'ak notice how you've gone quiet. They begin laughing, dealing you playful punches.
“Stop that,” you scold, swatting their hands away. “I haven’t given him an answer yet.”
“Oh, get real!” Kiri huffs. “You are so in love, you know you'll say yes.”
“Please put me out of my misery,” Lo'ak moans. “I'm tired of being his therapist because he's a little bitch.”
“Lo'ak,” you warn, eyes narrowing.
He giggles and Kiri stifles a laugh as you flounder, cheeks blooming under the siblings' teasing.
“You are both so awful,” you say petulantly, arms crossing one over the other. “How are you so sure I’ll return his feelings?”
It's Kiri's turn to groan, eyes rolling.
“Sure enough that I know if I let you in on a little secret, it'll light a fire under your ass,” she says seriously.
Your spine goes rigid, arms loosening as you wait with bated breath.
“Neteyam may choose you, but if you don’t choose him back quickly enough, someone could swoop in and claw that chance from you,” she shrugs.
Te'feyra's name is an ugly insinuation and something green coils its way into the pit of your stomach as you recall the chaste kiss she'd pressed to Neteyam's lips all those nights ago in the forest.
“Gears turning?” Lo'ak lilts.
They definitely are and suddenly you feel small, digging your big toe into the dirt to drag lines through the forest floor. You nod hesitantly, band suddenly tight around your bicep.
In your ruminating, Lo'ak and Kiri pass a knowing glance.
“Well?” Lo'ak prods.
You fidget, rattling with nerves.
“I suppose...”
Lo'ak sighs and his hands come down on your shoulders to steer you through the clearing.
“Where are we going?” you squeak.
“To put everyone out of their misery,” Lo'ak huffs.
The forest seems way more alive than usual, glowing so bright it almost overpowers the sun. Woodsprites gather around as Lo'ak nudges you through the thick foliage and you can't help but think about the sweet smile that curled on Neteyam's lips as he assured you that he was yours. All yours.
The fire crackles in the distance and you know that the morning meal is in the works when voices roar quietly meters away.
Neteyam sits near the center, surrounded by elders and the dreaded girl.
Te'feyra's obliterated every single centimeter of space available, nearly melded to his side as the elders talk animatedly over the two.
You want to turn back, uncertainty vice-like, but Lo'ak squeezes your shoulders as a silent plea. Not even a moment passes before Neteyam peels himself away and begins putting distance between them.
When Te'feyra gives him a curious glance, he gives her an uneasy smile.
“Be courageous, ________,” Lo'ak encourages. “You're one of the strongest people I know.”
With a final pat on the back, he pushes you towards the circle and the sudden movement catches everyone's gaze.
“________,” one of the elders calls fondly.
You smile and bow your head, fingers twitching at your sides.
“Hello,” you greet quietly, eyes swooping hesitantly to Neteyam who rises to his feet, already watching you intently.
That's when you notice it, the choker fastened around his throat. The vine is identical to yours, but it's strung with a line of beads that mirror the ones woven into a singular braid at the nape of your neck.
You hadn't realized that he'd noticed it all this time, but it's the ultimate confirmation that Neteyam sees you. And when he notices that you notice, he smiles softly.
The elders notice as well, drawing the link between your arm band and the necklace that Neteyam wears, now that you two stand opposite each other.
“May I borrow Neteyam for a moment?” you ask politely.
The same elder you prepared with the evening prior gleams a wide smile when Neteyam takes a step towards you, fingers brushing delicately with yours.
Te'feyra remains seated, lips twitching as her gaze flits between the two of you.
“By all means,” one of them says. “Take your time.”
You bow your head again, heart thudding when Neteyam's fingers twine with yours and he lets you drag him out of the circle and deeper into the forest.
When you deem that no prying eyes or ears surround you, you stop, Neteyam bumping softly into your back. The hair on the back of your neck bristle when he makes no moves to extricate himself from you, simply moving your braids from your face to reveal the string of beads tucked near the nape of your neck.
“You needed me?” he whispers, fingers still ghosting the skin of shoulder.
You swallow, squeezing your eyes shut as you relish the moment. Your fingers are still locked and for a fleeting second, you pretend that it's always been like this, the two of you.
“I am nothing extraordinary,” you start, and Neteyam's fingertips pause at your elbow.
“I'd argue differently,” he responds.
“I value time alone and I get overwhelmed often,” you continue.
“We all have our moments,” is his rebuttal as the hand covering yours squeezes gently.
You sigh.
“I could—”
Neteyam turns you and you're met with the the choker, beads glinting under the light. Your eyes drag up the column of his strong neck, flit past his soft lips and finally lock with his searing gaze.
“You can try all you want to run me off,” Neteyam laughs quietly, cupping your jaw. “But I'm not scared anymore.”
Your expression is skeptical and Neteyam decides to bite the bullet. He's closing in on you and your heart pounds violently in your chest.
“Neteyam,” you whisper weakly, hand coming up to his chest.
He traps your fingers against his heart, lips slotting between yours before you can protest some more.
It's like the forest comes alive around you, grass tickling between your toes as you melt under his touch and lean up into his mouth.
His hands are everywhere at once, branding your cerulean skin as he kisses you like it's your last moments. There's no hesitation, no feeling it out, just his warm breath and his soft lips as he pulls you impossibly closer.
“I'll take you as you are at any moment,” he says breathlessly between kisses. “You just have to say you want me back, ________. Please.”
You nod, nose brushing against his as one of his palms splay at the small of your back and the other grabs your chin, pulling you back to plant another burning kiss on your lips.
“Say it,” he begs.
Your eyes begin to mist as you nod again eagerly, parting for a moment to whisper the words.
“I'm yours,” you hoarse, hands on either side of his neck. “I'm yours if you'll be with me.”
Neteyam simply kisses you again, a satisfied hum rumbling from his built chest.
“Fucking finally,” a whisper sounds from the brush.
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A LIL' BONUS
“You think they would have figured it out on their own?” Lo'ak asks, wolfing down his food.
Kiri shrugs, feeding Tuk a piece of fruit from her wooden plate.
“Maybe,” she says, unable to suppress her proud grin. “Maybe not. They're both stupid."
“I think so,” Te'feyra laughs watching you and Neteyam fondly from across the fire. “They were a long time coming.”
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an – thank you SO much if you've made it this far! again, leave a request or let's chat hehehe. up next is lo'ak so stay tuned! :)
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neng © 2023
8K notes · View notes
ghosty-writes-23 · 2 months
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I'm Home Sweetheart. - Leon S Kennedy.
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!TAGS!: Fluff, Leon being husband material, NSFW Content, !CONSENT IS KEY!, Body worship, !WRAP IT BEFORE YOU TAP IT!, Choking, Breathplay, Size kink, Spit play, Doggystyle, Blow Job, Eating out, 69, Dom!Leon, Aftercare.
Pairing: DI!Husband!Leon + Fem!Reader.
Rating: Mature.
Summary: “Tell me about your book sweetheart, I want to recreate those scenes with you.”  Where your kind and caring husband Leon comes home early from a mission and surprises you by building a private in-home library as you were starting to run out of space to keep your precious books and wants to recreate your favourite scenes from your favourite authors.
Word Count: 3.7k
Thank you for all the support, it means alot❤️
-Ghosty❤️
Ada's Version.
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18+ Content // Minors DO NOT Interact // 18+ Content.
Using your teeth to pull open the bottle cap top of the ice cold orange juice, you took a few huge mouthfuls as you waited for the stop light to turn green, the drink was cold and refreshing causing a shiver to run though your body as you placed the bottle on the passenger's seat. Today you were coming back from annual and yearly no boyfriends or husbands girls vacation weekend you and your best friend always planned since you were in high school.
The trip started out innocently just spending the day at the spa getting your nails done and relaxing, to only end up going clubbing last night and dancing on the table to when I grow up by the pussycat dolls in 6 inch stiletto heels. As much as you loved the girls' vacation and letting loose for a couple days, you couldn’t wait to get home and curl up next to your husband, with a spicy enemies to lovers book with your dog Ace cuddled into your side.
Ace is an old German shepherd that is also an ex police dog whose owner was killed in the line of duty, the poor dog was so confused on why his owner and handler didn’t come back, he would wait for his older owner to return, as time went on Ace grew more and more depressed he refused to work with anybody else or be social with other dogs.
It go so bad that the police department thought it would be better to put Ace up for adoption and hope he would find a loving forever home but Ace just stayed in his kennel hiding away, he refused to eat and would growl at anybody who came near him.
That was until he met your husband of 8 years Leon who was looking for a dog that could protect you while he was away on missions, but also he could play around with at the park or at home when he had time off, the moment the two of them meet they were inseparable and Leon rushed to adopt him that day and after waiting for a week you both welcomed Ace into your little family and you both became the dogs whole world.
Always coming for cuddles and acting like a huge baby even letting you put Leon’s sunglasses on him and take pictures, it filled your heart with so much joy when Ace started putting on weight and started looking healthier.
Then you have your sweet little Oreo who was just your average black cat with white little paws and little face markings with one marking on her chest that looks like a heart, she was a stray when you first found her huddled in a small box on a stormy night outside your mom’s bakery, she was so small and fragile you didn’t think she would make it through the night, she was really skinny and her fur was matted to her skin nearly, she must of been abandoned at a very young age which broke your heart. 
She had no collar and no microchip so it was pointless trying to find her old owners. So that night you wrapped her up in your warm woolly scarf and took her home, where both you and Leon very gently brushed her fur, clipped her nails and gave her some food and water after you asked Leon to get some kitten food before you got home. She warmed up to you both but she mostly stuck to your side always wanting cuddles and pets.
You ended up adopting her a few days later after she passed all the vet checks and got her vaccinations, she was a little cautious of Leon since he smelt like Ace, but Ace was a good boy and let Oreo get used to him, even if it meant he got bit and clawed at a few times but slowly they became friends, then even shared Ace’s bed on cold nights and play with their toys with each other.
When the stoplight finally turned green you started driving down the main highway listening to the music that softly played in your car, distracting you from the slightly throbbing pain in your head from your dull hangover. The drive home was quick and you pulled into your garage within 10 minutes, the throbbing in your head subsided and you didn't feel as bad but you where really hungry.
Getting out you grabbed your bag and started heading inside to where you could hear Ace happily barking at the front door, you could even hear his tippy tappy paws, it caused you to smile thinking somebody was excited that you were home. 
“Hey Baby.” You say happily after opening the front door, Ace was running around your legs, his tail wagging so fast it was almost like a dark blur as he was barking, it was so sweet, you heard Oreo meow from the small table by the door as if she was saying welcome home, putting your bag down you kneeled down and started petting ace and gave Oreo’s head a soft kiss.
“Yes yes I missed you guys too.” you say as Oreo rubbed her face on your cheek and Ace was nuzzling into your hand. “Where you talking to me sweetheart.” Your husband Leon says with a soft chuckle, causing you to look at him wide eyed before running over and hugging Leon tightly. “Your back early.” you say happily wrapping your arms around his neck, his large arms wrapped around your waist pulling your body closer to him. 
“Surprise.” he says as you nuzzle into his chest, you were so glad your husband was home in one piece. “Why didn’t you tell me?” you whined softly hitting his shoulder causing him to laugh before he grabbed your smaller hand in his larger one. “Because I have a surprise for you.” he hints as he starts walking down the hallway of your house, you were a little confused but you followed your husband anyway.
Soon you found yourself outside your storage room, it was a spare bedroom you and Leon used for storage since it was pretty spacious and you didn't really use it, pulling out a key from his pocket Leon slid the key into lock and softly popped open the door. “Go inside.” Leon says, by his tone you could tell he was excited for you to see his surprise, pushing the door open you gasped softly, your one messy and chaotic storage room was turned into an in-home library. 
There was black floor to ceiling bookshelves filled with your books and some new ones you recognized, there was also a small wooden ladder that travel down the bookshelves, a fluffy rug on the ground, your window seat was decorated with comfy pillows and a blanket, there was a small coffee table in the middle of the room with a container with bookmarks, colorful page tabs, highlighters fine tip pens, and a blackberry and guava scented candle accompanied by a box of matches, in the far right conner was a little coffee and tea station where you could make a hot drink and cozy up with one of your books, The room felt warm and cozy, you could feel your eyes tearing up at the sight.
“Leon…” you say quietly, your voice cracking slightly, you looked up at your husband teary eyed to which he softly cupped your cheek and kissed you softly. “Happy valentines day, I wanted you to have a place for all your books since they were kind of taking over the house.” he says with a chuckle as he rested his forehead on yours as his rough thumb stroked the soft skin of your cheek, it would explain the black paint smudge on his face.
“I love you so much.” you say wrapping your arms around his neck, sometimes you felt like you didn’t deserve Leon. “Not as much as I love you sweetheart.” he says as he gives your hips a slight squeeze.
Later That Night 
You where cozied up in your little library reading one of the new books Leon had purchased you, it was a spicy romance novel that has a few dark twists, just as you were about to turn to the next page your library door opened and saw Leon was leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed over his chest he must of come back from his night run with Ace.
When your gaze met his there was a soft and gentle look in his baby blue eyes as he took in the sight of you reading your book, the soft light of the lamp casting a warm glow on your skin, to him you where Leon’s little slice of heaven from the rest of the chaos in his world.
“What's this book about?” Leon asked with curiosity as he walked into your library and rested his chin on your shoulder, his stubble tickling the side of your face. “A spicy forbidden romance between a DEA agent and a criminal mastermind.” you tell him with a small giddy look on your face, it was no secret that you had an ‘interest’ in forbidden romances but Leon was no stranger to that.
“Do you like a man in uniform?” he mumbled deeply in your ear as he started to press soft kisses to your neck, a soft sigh left your lips as you bit your bottom lip. 
“You know I do.” you say as your eyes flutter closed enjoying the loving affection from your husband, your book now just a passing thought. “How about you put your book down and get that pretty little ass upstairs.” Leon suggests against your ear, his voice a few octaves deeper causing you to squeeze your thighs slightly, you felt one of his hands make its way from your hip up your stomach and chest before he wrapped his fingers around your neck and gave it a light squeeze causing a soft whine to leave your lips.
“Okay.” you say looking up at him through your lashes, releasing your neck he placed an innocent kiss on your forehead before you started making your way to your shared bedroom upstairs.
Once you made it to your shared bedroom you could hear Leon doing something downstairs, but you just went and waited on your bed for him with your hands in your lap, after a couple moments you could hear his heavy footsteps coming up the steps “he must be wearing his boots.” you thought and when he came into view all the moisture in your mouth evaporated, thighs squeezed together and your pussy clenched. 
There Leon stood in his work clothing which consisted of a navy blue short sleeve top that was tight around his biceps, dark grey cargo jeans and black combat boots, but what really caught your eyes was the grey tactical vest that was strapped around his front and back. You felt yourself gulping slightly as you looked at your husband up and down, “I’m in danger.” you thought but you couldn’t help but be excited.
“Like what you see doll?” Leon asked, there was a slight tease in his tone as he walked over to you and gently grabbed your chin with his gloved hand, you nodded your head not trusting your voice as you nuzzled your face into his hand, hearing a soft chuckle you felt Leon gently tug your face up before he gently kissed you, his lips were warm and soft his kiss gentle and sweet.
Feeling his hand move away from your chin you felt him start to strip you of your oversized shirt that was clearly his, only breaking the kiss for a second to tug his your shirt off then tossing it on the ground before reconnecting your lips again, you feel back onto your plush bed one of his knees in between your legs as he hovered over you.
Your fingers found their way into his dark hair and gently tugged on his roots, earning you a soft groan from your husband as he tugged your leggings off your legs leaving you in your bra and panties. When Leon finally broke the kiss you looked up at each other breathing heavily, nothing but love and affection swimming in both your eyes for each other.
One of his gloved hands rests on your cheek, his thumb tracing your bottom lip sticking your tongue out slightly you ran it up the front of his glove before taking his gloved thumb into your mouth and gently sucking. 
“And you say I'm a tease princess.” Leon groaned, cheekily you gently bit his thumb and your teeth leaving a little imprint in his glove, before you leaned up and kissed him then used your strength to push Leon over onto the other side of the bed then straddle his waist, you felt his eyes on you but you where on a mission you wanted to pay Leon back for the library and the thoughtfulness then went into the idea.
You unclipped his tactical vest and placed on the ground be your bed before you trailed gentle kisses down his clothed chest and stomach as your hands worked on unbutton his pants and tugging them down his legs leaving him in his underwear. 
When you finally reached the top of his underwear that had a wet patch, you gently tugged them down revealing his hard cock that was leaking precum everywhere, you looked up at Leon as if to ask permission Leon nodded his head and ran his fingers through your hair and held it in a makeshift ponytail so your hair didn’t get in your eyes.
Smiling soft you let your tongue run up the side before you wrapped your lips around the tip and slowly began to bob your head you could feel every vein and ridge, he was heavy on your tongue but there was a small comfort, you made yourself at home placing your hands on his muscular thighs as you set a smooth pace.
Slowly bobbing your head occasionally he would hit the back of your throat, causing tears to prick your eyes but you blinked them away quickly.
Above you could hear Leon groaning and giving you soft praises of “such a good girl” and “feels so good darling.” the praise sent heat to your cheeks and kept you going, you wanted to make him feel good, you wanted to be his good girl.
You could feel your jaw was being to hurt slightly when your suddenly pulled off, breathing heavily saliva coating your slightly swollen lips a soft whine leaving your throat as you looked at your husband with a pout, he was breathing heavily his cheeks were slightly pink.
“Want to make you feel good too.” Leon says before you can think about what he said he pulls your lower half over his face, his stubble tickling the inside of your thighs, you could feel his warm breath on the wet patch of your panties causing you to clench around nothing and a soft whine to leave your lips.
When you felt him move your panties to the side and his tongue ran up your folds, a soft moan left your lips as you slightly arched your back. You could feel the heat running through your body as he feasted on you, as if he was in his own little world with his tongue deep inside you. 
Feeling his wrap his arms around your hips to keep you in place, you went back to giving him the same pleasure, your pillowy lips wrapping around his cock again and bobbing your head at a steady pace with your cheeks slightly sucked in.
You could feel him twitching in your mouth, you pulled away slightly and swirled your tongue around his tip causing his hips to jolt slightly you knew he was close, but so where you as your thighs shook slightly around his head. 
“Fuck doll cumming.” Leon groaned before you pushed him all the way down your throat, a few tears rolling down your cheeks at the sudden intrusion but you ignored the pain as your throat muscles tightened around him.
Leon came down your throat with a deep groan and even slightly bucked his hips, you soon followed and came with a loud moan, pulling away slightly you breathed heavily and wiped your mouth. Leon was breathing heavily but there was a huge grin on his face as he moved so now he was hovering over you. 
“Another round princess?” he asked as he reached into the bedside table and pulled out a silver square, you could barely pull a thought together but you nodded your head and let your husband position you how he wanted, lucky this time you were laid on your stomach with a pillow under your hips, your head resting against your pillow and soft hum leaving your lips as you where in a comfortable position.
You heard the sound of the condom packet being torn open and the lid of a lube bottle being cracked opened, it wasn’t that you weren't used to Leon’s size but sometimes it made it more comfortable, you heard the sound of the rest of his clothes hit the ground beside the bed as he stripped off, he even carefully took your soaked panties off and tossed them onto the pile of his clothes.
“Cold.” you whined softly as a shiver went down your spine, you felt Leon placed a small blob over your slit and gently rub it in. “I know sweetheart, you'll warm up soon princess I promise.” Leon says before you felt him at your entrance, you closed your eyes and waited for the familiar stretch, a soft moan left your lips as he slowly pushed in being careful and soon bottomed out a soft groan leaving both of your lips as you felt each other.
“Fuck.” you cursed as you placed your face into your pillow, no matter how many times you take him, he always overwhelms you with how good he makes you feel. 
“Are you ok?” Leon asked when you felt him gently kiss your shoulder, when he was this gentle with you it made your heart skip a beat, you nodded your head and gave him a smile as you leaned up and softly kissed her cheek.
“I’m ok but I do have one request?” you say when you notice he is still wearing the gloves on his hands, you saw him glance between you and his hands a small smirk on his face as he already knew what you were asking him for, moving his arm his bicep wrapped snug around your neck giving a soft squeeze Leon began to thrust slowly, teasingly but you here in heaven with his bicep around your neck.
“Such a dirty little girl, do you like it when I choke you? Deprive you of oxygen until you nearly pass out.” Leon asked his tone was mean and nasty as the pace of his thrusts picked up, your brain was going fuzzy you couldn’t focus on anything else but him.
You loved it when Leon was your kind and sweet husband but deep deep down a part of you liked it when he was mean and dominant, it made you feel so small being under him, his body towering over yours, his muscles and strength double if not triple then yours and it was such a turn on.
“Yes I do.” you choked out as you looked up at your husband, there was a smirk on his face as he thrusted into your soaked pussy, your gummy walls sucking him in and never wanting him to leave.
“Open.” he demanded and you opened your mouth without hesitation then you felt Leon spit into your mouth making you feel even dirtier, but you loved it and grinned up at him almost as if you were a crazed woman, you swallowed before you opened your mouth again and stick out your tongue. 
“Fuck I love you so much.” Leon groaned his voice deeper as he tightened his bicep around your neck, causing small spots to come into your version. You knew your safe word but you didn’t want to use it, this feeling felt like pure ecstasy and you were floating. “You close darling?” you heard Leon ask and you nodded your head feeling the familiar tightening in your stomach.
“Yes.” you choked out in between moans, your thighs were trembling and your head was feeling foggy. “Cumming.” you cry out as you let out a high pitch moan and came around Leon, you felt him soon follow. After a couple minutes you slowly felt him pull out then discard the used condom in the rubbish.
an hour later 
You were freshly showered and dressed in one of Leon’s shirts and a pair of panties, you both were relaxing in bed cuddled into Leon with Ace sleeping in his dog bed next to the window and Oreo resting and purring in between you and Leon. 
“I wasn’t too rough was I?” you heard Leon asked as he was tracing his thumb on your hip bone under his shirt you were wearing. “No, you were perfect as always.” you say you press a kiss to the top of his bare chest that had a few old scars, this caused him to smile and pull you closer to him being careful of Oreo as he doesn’t want to be attacked by her again.
“Happy Valentine's Day doll.” Leon says as he kisses your head and makes sure both you and Oreo are comfortable on the bed, “Happy Valentine's Day honey.” you say as you leaned up and softly kissed him, grateful to have a husband as kind, caring and gentle as Leon….
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©️2024 - GhostyWrites23 All Rights Reserved. ❌Please don't repost, translate or copy any of my work without permission.❌
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937 notes · View notes
shangchiswife · 1 year
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joel miller- the babysitter?
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summary: sarah’s old babysitter comes to visit from graduate school and joel is surprised
warnings: smut, age gap
word count: 2140
link to part 2: part 2
....
Joel Miller stood in the kitchen, his eyebrows furrowed with concentration.
He was determined to get the pancakes in front of him perfect. It was Sarah’s birthday and he just wanted to show her how much he appreciated her.
He had just finished making breakfast when his daughter bolted down the stairs.
“Morning dad,” she chirped before taking a seat at the breakfast table where Joel had placed a hot syrupy stack of pancakes.
“Morning baby girl, happy birthday,” he smiled, pressing a kiss to her forehead before taking a seat beside her.
“Pancakes! Thank you so much, dad!” she grinned before she immediately started to pile the pancakes onto her plate.
His gaze was soft as he stared at his little girl that was growing up so fast.
“So what’s the plan for today?” she asked with her mouth full.
“Mouth closed, Sarah, and whatever you want,” he ruffled her hair and she giggled.
“Thanks so much, dad, well I was thinking-”
Sarah was interrupted by the sound of the loud doorbell that sounded like it needed to be fixed.
The two glanced at each other with confusion.
“Were you expecting someone, Sarah?” Joel questioned, staring at his only daughter.
“No…” she shook her head quizzically. 
Joel stood up, rubbing his hands on his jeans before going over to the door and opening it.
When he opened it he was shocked to see you standing there dressed in a pretty white sundress, the bright sun illuminating your beaming face.
“Y/N,” he said with surprise.
“Mr. Miller, it’s nice to see you. Is Sarah here? I have a present for her,” you lifted up a small pink gift bag in your hand.
“Yeah she is, uh…come in,” he scratched the back of his head as you came inside eagerly.
“Y/N!” Sarah screamed with joy as she abandoned her breakfast and darted over to you and immediately jumped into your arms. 
“Sarah it’s so nice to see you! Look at how much you’ve grown,” you took her face in your hands and caressed it, her doe brown eyes gazing adoringly into yours. 
You had babysat for Sarah during your gap year and during college, while you were at a university nearby Austin, wanting to earn some money. Then once you were done with college you were accepted into a good Graduate program outside of Texas and rarely visited due to your busy schedule.
Joel stared at you.
He remembered you asking him to read over your college essays and him trying his best to make comments even though your work was exceptional. Hell, he remembered you putting Sarah to bed even though she begged you to stay up and watch tv. You had played an important role in Sarah’s development and he appreciated that. And now here you were so mature, hardened from the city life. 
“Here’s your gift, Sarah, I hope you like it,” you smiled, handing her the bright pink gift bag, watching as she threw out the wrapping paper.
“Woah a Britney Spears shirt and an Avril Lavigne cd! Thanks so much, Y/N,” Sarah marveled at the contents of the bag before embracing you once more.
“No problem. Anything for my favorite kid,” you winked at her as her cheeks glowed from the praise.
Suddenly the doorbell rang again and all heads turned to the crimson-red door once more.
“Good grief, how many more people are gonna knock on my door,” Joel muttered under his breath as you suppressed a giggle.
You had always had a little school-girl crush on Joel when you babysat Sarah. The way he was always so kind and gentle to you. It also didn’t help how handsome he was with his dark hair that was slightly greyed and his large muscular build, and serious dark eyes. All the girls your age had the same thoughts about Joel calling him a “silver fox.” Joel was completely oblivious to their comments, and if he did know he did a damn good job of hiding it.
This time Sarah ran up to the door and swung it open.
“Lily!” she squealed with delight as a girl around her age entered the house.
“Hey, Sarah, happy birthday! My mom was wondering if you wanted to go to the city mall with us and get a gift for you,” the girl said as Sarah immediately spun towards Joel and gave him her best puppy eyes.
You shook your head and chuckled.
You remembered when she used to do that when she wanted to stay up past her bedtime.
Joel scratched his facial hair.
“I don’t know…”
With that response, Sarah smacked him lightly with the Avril Lavigne cd she had just been gifted, her brown face scrunching up with anger.
“Alright, alright, easy I was just joking,” he chuckled as Sarah narrowed her eyes at him and then skipped away with Lily leaving the two of you alone.
It seemed that Joel had just realized and he turned around and stared at you.
“Oh…uh Y/N you can stay for dinner if you’d like I’m sure I can make something…” he said awkwardly.
You didn’t know why he was being so awkward, he was always normal when you were around.
“That sounds good, Mr. Miller,”
“Oh Y/N, you know you can just call me Joel,” his mouth twisted to the side which made you grin.
“Fine, that sounds good, Joel,” you smiled before plopping onto one of the sofas sprawled out in the cozy living room.
….
Once Joel had brought a warm plate of cookies, the awkwardness between the two of you was over and you started exchanging stories.
“And that was how Sarah got on the soccer team,” Joel wolfed down his cookie before you let out a hearty laugh.
“I can’t believe she got on there with no experience and a broken wrist,” you giggled.
“Yeah but now she’s carryin’ the team,” he said, putting the plate down on the table beside him.
As he moved over to do that simple action, your eyes flickered down to his jeans, they fit so snugly around his thick thighs.
Jesus Christ get a grip, Y/N you thought trying your hardest not to stare at them.
Once the man returned to his seat he spread his legs for comfort.
“Lord, this man is going to drive me insane,” you muttered, rubbing your temples as you could feel yourself growing wet from under your dress.
“You alright, there, Y/N?” the handsome man cocked his head to the side, his eyebrows furrowing with concern.
“I’m alright I just-” 
At that moment your car keys flew off your wrist and under the sofa.
“Shit,” you cursed as you bent down under the couch and searched for them.
Joel’s eyes widened and his breath hitched the moment you bent down to reach for your keys, your pretty sundress hiked up and revealed your lacy black panties.
His cock twitched in his pants as he stared at your ass. 
“Fuck,” he mumbled thinking that no one could hear him. 
But you could.
You peeked at him for a second, watching as his eyes darken as they watched your every movement.
Wanting to tease him more you wiggled your ass, wanting to get a reaction out of him.
He adjusted in his seat, fidgeting uncomfortably as he rubbed his hands on his jeans.
You fished your car keys from under the couch and placed them promptly back in your purse before going over to Joel, kneeling.
“Joel, are you feeling alright?” you kneeled right in front of his thighs, placing a gentle hand on his knee as Joel held back a groan.
He did nothing but gape as you moved his thighs aside so that you could slip in between them.
“Fuck, sweetheart what are you doin’?” Joel brought a hand down to caress your cheek.
“Please,” you looked up at him pleadingly.
“Please what,” his fingers drew shapes into your cheeks as you closed your eyes with bliss.
“Please let me suck your cock,” you placed your head on his thigh, cheeks flushed as he stroked your hair.
“Are you sure?” he struggled with his words as you nuzzled into his thigh.
“I want to,”
Your words sent the blood rushing to his cock as he took one of his fingers and put it in your mouth.
“Suck,” he commanded as you immediately complied, looking up at him innocently.
“Holy shit,” he said as he continued to thrust his finger in and out of your mouth watching as a string of drool pooled from your lips.
You whined, clearly wanting something bigger in your mouth.
“Alright princess, you show me how it’s done,” Joel rested his head back against the sofa as he watched your calculated movements.
You smirked as you rubbed your hands up and down his muscular thighs, then placed one hand on his clothed erection and traced it lightly.
“Uh uh, if you keep on doing that I’m not gonna be so nice,” he growled, gripping your chin roughly, making sure that you locked eyes with him.
You gave him a small smile before pressing a single kiss to his clothed cock.
Then you started working the zipper of his jeans, watching as his cock sprung out, pre-cum leaking from his tip, just waiting to be touched.
Your mouth watered at the sight. 
Joel guided your head, pushing it closer to his cock as you wrapped your lips around it.
“Shit yeah that’s it, princess,” he said, his head hitting the back of the couch, enjoying the warmth of your tongue on his dick.
While you took more of him in your mouth you simultaneously stroked him and fondled his balls.
“Jesus Christ,” he panted as he raked his hands through your hair, fisting it tightly.
You moaned at the pulling, the vibrations going straight to Joel’s cock.
You sink deeper into him, wanting to please him desperately as you continued to fondle his balls and wrap one of your hands around the base of his shaft.
“Such a good fuckin’ girl,” he praised, his tongue swiping over his bottom lip as you whimpered from the praise, growing wetter by the moment.
“Yeah, you like being called a good girl?” he teased, a smirk playing at his lips as he watched you struggle with his length.
Your pussy clenched around nothing as he continued to fist your hair.
You close your eyes with bliss as you continue to milk him while he lets out loud groans that go straight to your drooling cunt.
“Fuck I’m gonna-”
“Down my throat,” you breathe out as Joel completely loses it and stands up, thrusting his dick into your mouth at a brutal pace.
You moan loudly, tears leaking down your face as Joel continues to fuck you, groaning at his pleasure.
“You fuckin’ whore, having a little crush on your boss,”
You looked up at him, whimpering as tears continued to rush down your cheeks.
“Such a pretty little mouth, taking my cock so well,” he moaned as his pace faltered.
You rubbed your thighs together, wanting some friction of some sort to aid your untouched pussy.
Joel thrust one last time and released his seed, painting your throat white as he slipped out of your mouth.
He watched his cum drip down your chin and he almost became hard again at the pretty sight.
“Swallow,” he ordered as you immediately complied and swallowed his cum.
“Good girl,” he whispered as he knelt down to your cockdumb state and caressed your cheeks.
“You alright, sweetheart?” he asked, sweetly.
“Yeah, Joel I’m amazing,” you said as you leaned your head on his shoulder, wrapping your arms around him, threading your hand through his cropped hair.
The man’s breath hitched before he embraced you back, drawing circles on your back with the pad of his thumb.
He pressed a kiss to the side of your head.
“So damn cute,” he whispered in your ear as you giggled.
“You really think so?” your heart swelled with joy at his compliment.
“I know so,” he said as you hid your smile in his chest.
“So when can we meet again?” you asked looking up at him as he looked down at you, his eyes soft and not serious like they usually are.
“Tomorrow Sarah is having her birthday party here and then Lily’s mom is taking em’ skating at the mall in the city so the house will be free,” he smirked as your cheeks heated up.
“I’ll be there,” you stood up, taking your purse and putting it over your shoulder.
“And tomorrow you’ll get your turn,” he said, winking.
You grinned at him before opening the front door and shutting it behind you.
You could not wait for tomorrow.
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dcxdpdabbles · 7 months
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Any new ideas for congratulations! It's triplets? Love the idea of Jason just freaking out and trying to figure out how to build a relationship with his kids while being made fun of by his family and said kids. Especially if he goes overprotective mode because Danny has clown trauma too and gets snagged by the joker
Jason watches as Danny- his son.- impatiently taps his fingers against the table. His boy's gaze was looking at everything, taking in the big fancy Wayne Mannor with a sort of disinterest he was not expecting of a child so young.
His sister and Brother- both with alarmingly similar names- were also disinterested, but Dani was swinging her legs, and Dan was tapping his spoon and fork against the table in a fast-paced drumming.
It's strange to know he would fidget a lot as a kid but he always resorted to finger tapping. Was the tripples little habit from him? He wonders what else they inherited and what he missed out on seeing.
"I don't understand," Jasmine said, overlooking the contract Bruce's lawyers wrote up. " Why would you want custody now? It's been five years."
"I didn't know." Jason swallows past the lump in his throat as she gives him an unimpressed stare over the paper. He feels Bruce place a hand on his shoulder, and the silent support allows him to continue. "If I have, I wouldn't have ever let them grow up without me."
"Jason doesn't want full custody," Tim cuts in with a soft voice that has tricked lesser men into selling their shares. He and the rest of his family are all sitting across from Jassmin Fenton, as she is carefully lured back to the manor to discuss their next step. "He just wants to be part of his kid's lives and would happily share that with you."
"Not telling him about the kids sort of played into that," Steph mutters tactlessly. Unfortunately, her voice carries, and the woman across from them bristles.
There is a tense moment where he thinks Jassmin is about to curse them all out before she sighs and slumps in her seat. "Well, it wasn't like I had a means to contact you when I found out. You gave me a fake name."
Jason winces. "I sort of forgot I told you my name was Petter."
"Wasn't a total lie" Dani chirps "It is your middle name."
Jasmine rubs her eyes. "Look, Jason, I don't want to stop you from seeing the kids, but this is all too much right now. I'm dealing with a lot right now-"
"You are currently homeless," Damian cuts in, causing Jasmine to stop in genuine bewilderment.
"No, we're not." Dan scoffs. "You were waiting for us at our house. Waiting to ambush us."
"The house that was on the street that Poison Ivy just destroyed," The boy says, showing everyone his phone screen. There, clear as day is, their home is nothing but rumble. Jasmine's face spams, and she quickly checks her phone, paling at what she reads.
"Oh, Ancients. It's gone. It's all gone," She whispers, gripping the phone. The three kids immediately stiffen, watching their mother with strange intensity. Too aware of what this means.
They were mature for their age, and that is never a good thing.
Oh gods. Did his children live on the streets? Had Jason's carelessness hurt his children like his parents have hurt him?
"Mom?" Danny asks and that seems to snap Jasmine out of her spirl.
"Hotel!" She gasps, hands shaking as she quickly starts tapping on her phone. Jason catches a glimpse of her screen and realizes she is making a to-do list. "I have to book a hotel room. Call the insurance company, go and try to salvage whatever we can....what else?"
"You can stay here, Fenton," Damian surprisingly offers. "Until your home is rebuilt"
"We couldn't possibly-"
"Hotels are expensive, and you must focus on other more important needs. Father certainly has the space."
Jason jerks into action. "This will also give me a chance to connect with the kids!"
Jasmine bites her lip, turning to her children. Jason could appreciate that she was willing to include them in big decisions. The three nodded, so she eventually sighs.
"Alright. But only until I can get our housing settled. And I'll pay rent"
Jason would argue but he recognized the look in her eye. She would not be sway from making payments. So he agrees, tapping his fingers on the table in a specific rhythm to make sure his family agrees too.
He knows it pains Bruce- the old man already thinks of the triplets as his grandchildren and the idea of charging them to live with him will kill him.
Jason notices the way Dan's eyes zero in on his tapping and the glance around the family members. He fights a proud grin when realization bleeds into his boy's eyes. He's got a smart one, likely aware of that the tapping is a form of Morse code.
Tim did say- after pulling up all files of the four- that his children had developed insane intelligence. Maybe he should get them tested for certification geniuses.
"Hey Mr. Jason," Dani suddenly speaks up.
"Yes Darling?"
"I suggest you remove your eyes from my mom before I remove them from your face." The little girl even punches her palm in a poor intimidation attempt. His heart melts.
Then his face turns a dark red hue at Jasmine's raised brow. Unwillingly flashes of thier last time being face-to face rise in his mind. He coughs awkwardly as his sons face become as protective as their sister, Dan cracking his knuckles and Danny reaching for a knife.
"Oh yeah" Tim deadpans watching the kids reaction "No need for DNA test. Those are definitely Jason's kids"
He agrees, he just hopes he can show his children he plans on sticking around and being the father they deserve.
No one notices Cass and Steph slip away to deal with Posion Ivy. Jason kinda wants to send her a thank you gift for making it possible to have his family move into the manor.
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astroismypassion · 4 months
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Astrology observations 🐕💜🐕
Credit goes to @astroismypassion
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🐕 People with Capricorn Mars, Mars in the 10th house, Mars at a Capricorn degree or Mars Saturn aspect could have a tendency to stay in a partnership, because the sex is good, even if other aspects of partnership are not working anymore.
💜 Similarly, with Mars in the other's 10th house in a Synastry chart, the Mars person can stay in a partnership just because the sex is too good.
🐕 I noticed Cancer Sun often has cheapness as a trait. They really like cheap things unless they have some Taurus in the chart or things that would indicate otherwise.
💜 Taurus Suns have Venusian (what you find attractive) influence over their Sun (personality traits). So they are prone to go for partners that they find have an attractive personality and not so often looks. They fall in love with personality traits, identity. Usually the Taurus Sun ends up being the one more attractive in the couple, not the partner, because they go for a "pretty" identity, personality, because they find own self worth (Venus) through their partner's identity, personality (Sun).
🐕 I still haven’t figured out why, but I noticed a lot of Cancer Juno natives are in “a working” couple or working marriage, so they work with their partner.
💜 8th house sign or planets show which body area, body part you pay the most attention when you shower. If you have Leo over the 8th house you likely wash your back and hair the most. If you have Mars in the 8th house you probably pay special attention to your hair and face.
🐕 I was researching on which celebrities would be aligned best strictly astrologically speaking, so based on the placement in their Natal chart. He has Gemini over the 7th house where her Gemini Sun falls into, he has Cancer Venus with falls on her Cancer Rising. He's a Scorpio Moon, she's an Aries Moon. He also has Scorpio Ascendant at a Cancer degree (28) and she has Cancer Ascendant. I think they would actually look so good together, I'm not gonna lie and astrological compatibility is definitely there too.
💜 Another unlikely match, but also astrologically nicely compatible are Brad Pitt and Charlize Theron. He has Capricorn Moon and she has Sagittarius and Capricorn over the 4th house and Moon at a Capricorn degree, they both had to grow up quickly. Both Venus at an Aquarius degree. She has Mars at an Aries degree (25) the same as the degree of his Sun (25 degree). The both have their Jupiter conjunct, in Aries, with him being Sun at an Aries degree and having Aries over the 4th house. They seem astrologically quite in sync.
🐕 I think it's really nice when a couple has one's Venus sitting on the other's Jupiter. It gives this "we are so lucky to have found each other" type of love. It's also great for making more money together, feeling jovial, happy and bright around each other, you just feel so fortunate to be with each other.
💜 I think Cancer Sun Taurus Sun pairing as a romantic couple is really nice, like you get this "high school sweethearts at any age" love due to Gemini placements that are usually found in their Composite chart. But those Gemini placements might also very well be the reason why they are just friends and not a couple haha. You guys take a while to come together (if ever).
🐕 Degrees that show the age sometimes happened are better represented by your SIDEREAL Natal chart I gathered. Saturn degree that shows the age when you had to "grow up", mature and become more responsible. Pluto degree shows when a major life transformation happened, your parents divorce or when a traumatic event occured.
💜 I understand why Aries Sun Taurus Sun couple work, because Taurus Sun is basically Sidereal Aries Sun. But when is used celebrity example David Beckham (Taurus Sun) and Victoria Beckham (Aries Sun) I must say that there are other really compatible placements in their Natal charts. Victoria actually has her Sun at a Taurus degree. David has Sun at an Aquarius degree which is great with Victoria's Aquarius Moon. They both have compatible Moon sign, David's Capricorn Moon and Victoria's Aquarius Moon. They both are Saturnian/Uranian in emotional nature. So I wouldn't say that they are the best example for an Aries Sun Taurus Sun couple, because it's more like two Taurus Suns in their case.
🐕 Venus in a Composite chart indicates what you both find pleasure in. So the sign of Venus indicates which music artists both of you like, enjoy or might listen in the connection. Gemini Venus indicate that both might start listening to music made by Gemini Sun. If it's at a Leo degree (5, 17, 29) you might also enjoy music by Leo Sun. If Venus is located in the 9th house, you could also enjoy music by Sagittarius Sun.
💜 I noticed in Cancer Sun Cancer Sun couples usually the woman was the one initiating the partnership or proposing to his fiance.
🐕 I think the second sign after Scorpio that has the ability to REINVENT at any period, time or age is Gemini, especially Gemini Sun.
💜 Venus sign, house and degree indicate body parts you take care of, groom the most. Such as Venus in the 6th house takes care of their nails, skin. Wear nail polish and puts on body lotion, hand cream, face cream etc. Taurus Venus takes really good care of their lips.
🐕 I noticed the sign that washes their hair very regularly almost to the point of too often is Sun in the 6th house, Aries Sun and Leo over the 8th house or Sun in the 8th house. These people tend to obsess over hair and washing it daily.
💜 Taurus Venus is really unstoppable when they learn self love before pouring love into anyone else. If you have this placement your love life could actually improve once you start giving yourself gifts, spending money on yourself, taking yourself out to eat. Too often these people wait to treat their partner out for a meal first, buy them an expensive gift instead of actually gifting those things to themselves like it is meant to be with this Venus sign. Otherwise they pamper their partner to the point they themselves end up looking drained and their bank account broke. Also, don’t expect lavish gifts from your partner if you have this placement, they might be more passive and lazy with gift giving. They are much likely to give you a gift in form of food.
🐕 Pisces Moon, Moon in the 12th house, Pisces Mars and Neptune in the 8th house to some extent use sleep or sleep more to avoid any negative memories, intrusive thoughts or flashback coming up randomly during the day. When they are more in their feelings or alone this is more like to happen just randomly during the day, so they nap or sleep longer to avoid that.
💜 Virgo MC women often shave daily. While I noticed with men that have Virgo MC they either rock a clean shaved look or just grow out their hair, it’s either one extreme or another.
🐕 Pluto in the 12th house and Scorpio over the 12th house people, even Neptune in the 8th house to certain extent always listen to music when alone to avoid feeling alone, having some negative past experiences come up in their mind or negative remarks and criticism. They are incomfortable in their own presence until they learn.
Credit goes to @astroismypassion
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bonny-kookoo · 2 months
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Jungkook
𝐒𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐎𝐥𝐝𝐞𝐫 | In Motion
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Moving on is scary. Moving back won't bring you forwards. But moving with someone at your side can be exciting.
Tags/Warnings: Aged up!Jungkook, Younger!Reader, Age Gap (9 years, JK is mentioned to be 34/35), Angst, Mature romance, Jungkook's ex wife, mentions of past physical abuse, mentions of alcohol abuse, fluff, flirty Jungkook, fluff!!, MCs Ex, police, Jungkook being the victim of bullying (dw), fluff?, nsfw but it's very light (sorry)
Length: 6k words
-> Masterlist
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“Its funny how a woman can change a man.” Yoongi mentions, sitting at the big company dinner next to Jungkook, who's both visibly distracted and upset to be present, phone being checked every few minutes or so- and Yoongi knows who he might be texting with. “why didn’t you bring her along?” He wonders, while Jungkook sighs.  
“I’m actually not sure.” He admits. “I’ve been given a plus-one like always, and I planned on inviting her- but then I.. chickened out.” He shakes his head. “these events are boring as hell.” He says, eating his food with not much interest.  
“What is she doing at home instead?” Yoongi asks, setting his own cutlery aside as he’s finished his plate.  
“Cooking. She sent me a picture of some.. macaroni and cheese she made from scratch.” Jungkook smiles to himself as he thinks to the image you’ve sent him with multiple excited emojis to convey your happiness over it- having tried to wing it for the first time. “now she’s most likely watching her favorite show since it’s Tuesday.” He shrugs.  
“Wow.” Yoongi jokes. “That’s so much more exciting, damn.” He flatly tells his friend, who rolls his eyes. “Jungkook, have you actually asked her if she’d ever want to tag along?”  
“…Yes.. and she said she wouldn’t mind..” He admits shamefully so.  
“Then bring her next time. You act as if you and her are George and Maria over there. You’re not sixty for God’s sake, and she didn’t turn legal yesterday either.” Yoongi shakes his head with laughter, amused by his best friend. He’s noticed the change in him pretty much immediately after the younger guy had returned from his vacation and days taken off- looking almost ten years younger, happy and most of all carefree. There was no worry on his face, no thoughts wrinkling his brows, no annoyance and clear signs of boiling burnout left.  
“I.. want to ask her to move in with me.” Jungkook admits suddenly, staring at his food. “I know it’s a bit fast but.. I feel like this time, she really is the one for me.” He tells his friend, who shrugs.  
“Its your decision. I’m happy you found someone good.” He simply answers him, refusing to really help in that regard. Jungkook can make this decision all by himself, after all. 
And he should. 
Back at his place, where he puts the car keys on the kitchen counter before he unbuttons his shirt to get ready to shower, he takes a small look around. The cooking utensils he bought just for you are still here, and so is your favorite blanket. The pillows he got are littering the couch, and yet, only you are missing.  
You’re missing.  
Even though you’re technically not even meant to be here all the time yet.  
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Jungkook has become.. suspicious, to say the least.  
You’ve been together for a few months now after all, and ever single one of them, for the same week or so, you vanish out of sight. And he’s not stupid. 
He knows you don’t have an affair with someone else, or your work simply always calls you in during that time, because he knows you escape his sight even when you have days off. No, he knows exactly what it is, and he honestly doesn’t really know why you do it.  
Do you think it grosses him out? Or that he doesn’t know how to deal with it? Knowing you at this point, he might just be right.  
But he also can’t force you to come out and be with him during that time of the month if you don’t want to. You have to want this all by yourself, because otherwise, how can you both build a relationship that’s not the same as your past? He’s not that much better from your past boyfriend if he was to just overstep a boundary you clearly still have.  
Back at work in his private office, he contemplates on messaging you. That could help, right? He types out a simple message, letting you know that if it really is what he thinks happens every month, then you don’t have to be worried at all.
He doesn’t mind. At all.  
So he just texts you- tells you that if you ‘need anything at all’, he’d just bring it over and leave you be if that’s what you’re most comfortable with. However, instead of just texting back, you call him- making him wave towards his secretary in a manner that shows her he is for now unavailable unless urgent. “Well hello, darling.” He chuckles when he picks up the call, unaware that on the other end, his words still make you horribly shy.  
“Sorry for not.. Uhm.. You know, calling you or anything.” You say, but Jungkook doesn’t mind.  
“It’s no bother. We’re both still getting used to things, after all.” He reminds you. “Though I’d love some sign of life every now and then in the future. Just a quick ‘hey, I’m doing ok’ is really enough for me.” He offers.  
“Sorry. I’ll think about it from now on.” You say, though Jungkook is pleased to hear that you don’t just do it out of submission- but that it sounds a lot more like relief, almost. As if you’ve waited for him to say this. “But uhm.. What do you mean by, ‘if I need anything’?” You wonder.  
“I’m assuming you avoid me every month due to your period.” He says, and you just meekly answer with a sigh, and a ‘yeah’. “It’s no bother to me, really. It’s not gross or whatever you might think.” 
“I’m just.. Moody and stuff. I’m worried I might.. I don’t know, be mean to you on accident.” You warn him, and he just laughs it off.  
“I’m not that fragile, love.” He jokes. “And I doubt that you’ll end up calling me an asshole every second of the day if we spend time together.”  
“No, I’d never!” you defend yourself, making him chuckle. “I just get cranky, and I don’t know.. I might just get onto your nerves.” You warn him. 
“You could turn full on toddler on me, and I’d still take care of you.” He jokes. “I really don’t mind. How about we meet up later, and I’ll cook us something at your place? I have the weekend off, we could spend it together.” He offers, clicking a little through the rest of the E-Mails he has for today. “Or you could always.. Stay over at my place as well. You know I love it when you’re there with me.” He says. 
You really like his place. To the point, where you actually begin to miss being there, despite having loved your little apartment for so long until now. It’s odd how his house has become somewhat of a safe-space, even thinking about it makes you feel good. And hearing that he personally enjoys having you over as well offers you some sort of hope that maybe one day, he might even want you there permanently.  
What could living with him look like? 
How long until he gets annoyed with you? 
“I really like your home.” You confess quietly, and he waves off his secretary that’s about to knock- because he can feel he’s potentially at the very cusp of something. “Do you.. I mean..” You mumble, before you sigh. “Yeah sure, let’s uhm.. Spend the weekend together.” You tell him, and he realizes quickly that your tone is not very confident at all, despite the fact that you’re trying to make it seem like it is.  
“It could be your home too, you know?” 
He waits for you to answer, and he knows this needs some time to be thought through, but he truly believes that you’re the one for him. It doesn’t have to happen right away either- but he wants you to know that the option is there, if you’d like to take it someday.  
“I-“ you start, when he can hear your doorbell ring in the background. “Sorry, I’ll be right back.” You tell him, leaving the phone for a little bit, silence the only thing that Jungkook gets to hear. Your phone probably cancels out whatever quiet noise might be there, so he’s unsure what’s going on, until you return to the phone again. “Can I call you back later?” You say after a moment, voice almost whispering.  
“What’s wrong?” He asks, immediately alarmed by your behavior. He presses for an answer by saying your name- but still, you don’t answer. Until you finally do.  
“He’s here.” You say, 
And Jungkook immediately grabs the keys to his car, rushing out as fast as he can.  
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Jungkook isn’t sure what he expected your ex to look like. But seeing him now, in front of your door as Jungkook walks closer, he feels his blood boil. 
The man is not quite as tall as he is just like you mentioned a few months back, but he’s clearly training for muscle. A very intimidating body, and the second the man turns towards him, he spots the things you’ve told him before as well. His facial features are a lot sharper than Jungkook’s, eyes dark as they muster him up and down, frown on his face. “What do you want?” He asks, voice deep, raspy. Most likely from smoking- cigarette smell still clinging to the man in front of him. 
“I’d like to visit my girlfriend, if you’d be so polite to make space for me to enter the door, please.” Jungkook speaks, tone held at a very specific tone as to not give away any emotions for his opponent to pick up on. 
“Oh, so she got a rich guy now.” Your ex says, leaning back, arms crossed- most likely to present his muscles, something that Jungkook thinks looks simply childish. “Tell her she owes me money. I need it asap, and she keeps avoiding me.” He explains, and Jungkook nods.  
“I’d love to tell her that.” He says. “But you’re still blocking the door.” he says, noticing both the very clear and sharp smell of alcohol, and the way he slightly sways a bit. 
It’s quiet for a good moment, both men staring each other down, before your ex moves to the side, though it’s clear that he doesn’t do it as to admit defeat. Jungkook takes the chance and knocks at your door now, prepared that your ex might try and slip inside the second you open it. “Hey- it’s me.” Jungkook tells you through the door, and at that, you open it just a little bit, like you’re trying to check if he’s actually there or not.  
Once you look at him, his entire face softens. 
You look like a panicked animal that just escaped a shot to the head, eyes wide, staring up at him. At the sight of Jungkook you instantly open the door wider to welcome him inside, and he himself is quick to shut the door right behind him, a hand having tried to keep it open last second. 
“I’m here now.” Jungkook reassures you while you cling to him, your ex having moved to knock and ring the doorbell constantly, angry about Jungkook’s antics. “Don’t worry. Let’s call someone to deal with him, and then we’ll go from there, alright?” He explains to you, as you detach yourself a bit, taking a few deep breaths at the instruction of Jungkook who’s still holding your arms as if to steady you. “Go sit down, I’ll make the call. Did he hurt you at all?” He worries, but you shake your head. 
“I didn’t let him in.” You answer quietly, and Jungkook nods. 
“Which is the best thing you could’ve done. Good job.” He praises, helping you sit down in your bedroom, as far away from the front door, which is still being tortured, as possible, before he walks back out into your kitchen, phone on his ear to call the police. 
It all happens a lot quicker than he would’ve thought- your ex having apparently had gone against some very important guidelines he’s been given after a more recent violent crime he’s committed. “You can file in for a restraining order.” The officer tells Jungkook who nods. “Judging by the fact that he’s known already, that might be for the best. Those people are too unhinged to really be trusted.” 
“Yeah, seeing him in person today has definitely made up my mind about some legal restrictions placed onto him.” Jungkook agrees. “Thank you for dealing with him so quickly.”  
“No problem. You two have a calm rest of your day.” The officer says, before they drive off, your ex in the back of the police car. 
The second he’s back in your home, having realized he actually knows the pin-code to your door, he carefully opens the bedroom door where you’re still hiding on your bed- and the second he nods, you get the message letting go of a deep breath, leaning against him the second he sits down on your bed. “The officer said we should probably file a restraining order towards him.” Jungkook tells you. “I think that’s a good idea as well. It would.. Definitely help me, knowing that he can’t get close to you.” 
“...wait- it’s Tuesday, you were at work-!” You suddenly say, realizing that he probably left work early just to be here now. “You can go back now, I swear I’m fine-” 
“The office won’t burn down just because I’m not there darling, relax.” He laughs, running a hand up and down your arm. “I’ve got the day off tomorrow anyways, and after that I’ll work from home for a while. So it’s not that bad, I promise.” He explains to you, who slowly nods. “And it was a family-emergency after all. They all surely understand that I suddenly ran off.” He jokes- 
Though you feel oddly emotional at the mention of that phrase. 
“Family emergency?” You ask quietly, and he nods, easily, as if it’s no big deal.  
“My girlfriend was in trouble. I’d count that as a family emergency.” He shrugs, and you look at your knees, unsure about what to think. “Which, by the way.. And you can totally say no, it would be completely fine-” He starts, before he continues his sentence once you look at him. “-but.. My parents might want to meet you.” He reveals, strangely... shy almost. 
“Might?” You wonder, and he nods, before sighing. 
“I might’ve let it slip that we’re.. Well, a couple.” He admits. “And I can’t help it, really.” 
“Can’t help what?” You wonder, making him play with the silver rings on his bottom lip. 
“I tend to.. Ramble on and on when it comes to you. So when they asked about you, I just.. I couldn’t help it. And now my family is very much curious to meet you.” He explains, and you smile to yourself. 
“Well.. I mean, I don’t mind?” You say. “What’s the worst that can happen, am I right?”  
“Oh god you don’t know my family.” He dramatizes playfully. “My mother can be a handful, and my brother will most likely just go on and on about some embarrassing stuff that happened when we were kids.” he groans, and you can’t help but grin. 
“Are you scared I might end up hearing something you’d otherwise keep from me?” You wonder, and he glares at you, before he suddenly smiles. “But really. I don’t mind meeting them, if you’re okay with that.” You say. 
And Jungkook can’t help but lean over at that to kiss your lips, realizing just how serious you’re both getting. 
“You’re the only one I’d ever want them to meet.” 
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Jungkook’s parents have never liked his ex wife. 
That’s information you’ve been told later that night before Jungkook had left to go home- and you’re unsure how to think about that. You feel like there’s now a standard you have to reach, and you’re not sure if you can. If you meet them, and it doesn’t work out, what will they think of you?
Your ex has never really let you meet his parents much- only fleetingly, when you met them by chance at the local grocery store or in similar situations. You know that Jungkook has a brother who’s been married for much longer than Jungkook has been- will he judge you for being so much younger than Jungkook himself? 
Will his parents think you’re not a good fit for him because you’re too young? Or do they know already? 
You’re currently washing dishes from the breakfast Jungkook and you had at his place today, when the doorbell rings. You’ve spent the night after admitting that you weren’t feeling good about sleeping at your own place after what happened, and he understood- happily telling you that you can always stay at his house for as long as you’d like. You wonder if he meant permanently.   
He’s been hinting at it for quite a bit now.  
A dog almost jumps up on you, another one following- two tiny whippets excitedly yapping at you, before a young man calls them towards him. Only now do you see three people entering the house through the front door- an older couple, and the young man who you assume owns the dogs, Jungkook standing on the sidelines, hiding his face in his hand.  
“Oh, you must be her!” The woman says, and you instantly know that she must be his mother. He inherited quite a bit of her facial features, though you can also see his father in him as well, the man a lot quieter than her, simply hanging up her coat before greeting his son properly. “Oh you do look young! But very pretty.” She tells you, before she tells you her name.  “When did you change the furniture? It looks so much brighter in here without that weird sofa in the living room.” His mother exclaims, as Jungkook enters the open kitchen.  
“I- mom, when I said you could visit I didn’t mean today.!” Jungkook almost whines, before he throws you an apologetic look. “And also, what are you even doing here?” He asks the young man who very clearly has to be his brother from visual appearance alone.  
“Hey, I gotta know who the pretty girl is who caught my baby brother’s attention!” He teases, smacking Jungkook’s back. “You’ve been going on and on about her, you can’t blame me for being curious.” He explains himself, before he reaches out to you. “Junghyun. Nice to meet you.” He greets you, before he boldly moves to take a look inside the fridge.  
It's odd how you just instantly know the dynamic of his family from this small interaction alone.
Jungkook quickly somehow gets his family to sit in the living room while telling them that he’ll make them something to drink, before he joins you in the kitchen again. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t know when J talked to them yesterday that they would show up literally 24 hours later-“ he apologizes, but you wave him off.  
“Its.. not that big of a deal. They seem nice- and it would’ve had to happen at some point, right?” You wonder, and he nods.  
“Still, it must be at least somewhat uncomfortable. I know I’d like to be prepared to meet your parents.” He sighs, moving to make some coffee for his parents after pecking your lips once.  
“…would you?” You ask, and he turns around after clicking the right buttons on the coffee machine in front of him. “meet my parents, I mean.” You ask, unsure.  
“I.. yeah?” He rubs the back of his neck a little. “I’m.. I mean, I don’t know if they’re even aware that you’re seeing someone-“ 
“They are.” You admit. “they.. I told my mom. After we.. after Christmas.” You explain, and he listens with interest, letting you go at your own pace however. “She’s.. they both know you’re older, and my dad is not very happy about that. But my mom seemed welcoming of the idea.” You tell him honestly, and he nods. “they’re scared too, you know? After all that happened.”  
Jungkook nods. “I completely understand. And even without that-“ he shrugs. “-I guess any parents would be suspicious of a relationship like ours.” Be admits and you nod as well, well aware that your parents might not be as easy going as his are. “but well make it work. Right?” be asks, and you know what he’s asking.  
Not if you’re gonna make it work- but if your parent’s possibly being against your relationship could be a deal breaker for you.  
“Yeah.” You say, because you’re not going to let this be taken away from you, by anyone. You’ve had a taste of what your life could be like if you were to just let it happen- and you don’t want to hide away and be trampled over anymore. You want him, you want this life and this future you might have together- no matter what.  
And Jungkook can’t help but walk closer to you, kissing your lips while he tenderly holds your cheeks.  
“Mom, Jungkook is making out with his girlfriend instead of making Coffee!” his brother yells, and Jungkook leans back at that, jaw clenched and tongue prodding against the inside of his cheek while he’s got his eyes closed, having to restrain himself you imagine. But you can’t help and giggle at the situation- visions of what those two brothers might’ve been like as children filling your mind, curiosity growing.
What was he like before Evelyn? Before he married? Before he met her? 
“get out!” Jungkook barks, taking a towel from the sink to hit his brother with it, the laughing older male running off back into the living room, where you follow- carefully carrying the two cups of coffee Jungkook had forgotten in his playful rage against his sibling. 
“Thank you.” His mother says, smiling warmly, while his father only nods, face however gentle, and friendly. You sit down after that, in the corner of the sofa, listening to the two brothers fighting in Jungkook’s office, before his father speaks up.  
“My son mentioned that you two have.. Quite the age gap between you.” He says, and you nod. “And that doesn’t bother you?” He asks, and you shake your head. 
“It.. Did. In the beginning.” You admit, his father now visibly interested in your answer as he didn’t expect you to admit something like that so outright. “I was worried that he might.. Think of me as childish. Or that our ambitions might differ too much, since we’re both at different points in our lives.” You explain, his mother now listening in as well. “I mean.. Let's just take family-planning for example. He’s a lot closer to settling down than I am, technically.” You explain, and his mother nods. “But I realized that, if we talk about these issues, we can solve them together. Make compromises, so we can meet in the middle, so to speak.” 
“Has he spoken to you about his.. Past marriage?” His father asks, and you nod. 
“I’ve met his former wife a few times. And I’m.. Somewhat aware of the things that happened in the past- though I’m sure he didn’t tell me everything yet.” You say. “And I respect that. We’re still.. At the very beginning of our relationship after all.” You chuckle a little, nervously, but suddenly, his father smiles. 
“Stop interrogating my girlfriend just because I’m not here.” Jungkook interrupts the conversation, protectively sitting in between his father and you- though that wasn’t the smartest idea, since his father just quietly pats his back rather roughly, making Jungkook complain in embarrassment. “What the fuck dad?” He asks, but his father just laughs. 
“Stop hitting him darling, you’re gonna break his back!” His mother complains, and you can’t help but smile at the mention of that petname- making it clear where Jungkook got the habit from, since he calls you the same most of the time. It’s cute. 
You’re happy to see that he has such a nice family.  
“So, when are you gonna bring a kid into this world, huh?” His brother asks shamelessly, making Jungkook choke on his water. “Hey, come on. I’ve got the second one on the way, you can’t make me do all the work here!” He teases, making Jungkook turn towards you. 
“I’m so sorry- if you want them to leave, just tell me.” He says towards you, but much to his dismay, you shake your head. 
“I don’t mind them.” You say, and his brother grins, before he leans forwards towards you. 
“Did you know that Jungkook used to be scared of the microwave-” Jonghyun starts, and Jungkook throws his head back, groaning in agony.  
All while you can’t help but be happy that his family seems to like you. 
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Later on, once they all left again, he talks to you once more in the living room after the dishes had been washed, and you both had gotten ready to just laze around and go to bed later. “I’m really sorry they showed up unannounced. That was terrible of them-” He shakes his head still, holding you in his arms on the couch while a random TV series plays quietly in the background, commercial break ongoing. “-and I’m also sorry I left you alone with them. I hope they didn’t interrogate you too hard.” 
“It was fine.” You brush off, telling the truth. “We just.. Spoke about the age gap.” You explain, and Jungkook sighs. “And I told them that, you know, yes, it did bother me at first. And I know that it bothered you too.” You admit, making him stare blankly, listening to your words. “But that we.. Work together. If problems occur, we find compromises. Put equal effort into it so we meet in the middle, you know what I mean?” You say, and he nods. 
“Yeah, I see where you’re coming from. What did they answer to that?” He wonders, but you shrug. 
“He just asked if I knew Evelyn, and I said that yes, I’ve met her a few times.” You remember. “And that I know you probably didn’t yet tell me everything, but that it’s fine because neither have I. Since we’re still.. Pretty new.” You offer. “And then you came back, so we didn’t talk further.” 
“My brother can be so terrible, I swear.” He huffs. “Two years older and thinks he’s always got the upper hand in everything..” He mumbles. 
“Well, from what I’ve been told, he is a bit quicker with things than you.” You giggle. “Second marriage, second child-” 
“Second job after he kept slacking off at his first, second house because he got kicked out of the first, second dog because one wasn’t enough-” Jungkook goes on, and you can’t help but laugh out loud. “-Hey, stop laughing about that!” He complains, moving his hands to pinch your sides, only causing your laughter to intensify as you try and slip away from him. But you’re unsuccessful, rather ending up somewhat manhandled down into the couch, with him above you, your wrists pressed into the cushions below you. 
It doesn’t take long for him to lean in and kiss you, the knowledge of everything that happened today settling in. You’ve been so understanding about everything, calm and collected even though he knew that you must’ve been at least somewhat intimidated by the whole situation. You still handled it perfectly in his opinion, facing it all head on. 
He’s so in love with you.  
His kisses slow down after a moment or two- and you know why they do. He’s not really a fan of getting heated on the couch of all places, preferring the bedroom or maybe the shower- and sure, you have indeed gotten rather scandalous in other places of his house before, but if he can control himself, he does.  
Laying next to you, your head on his biceps, he just observes you for a moment before he speaks again.  
“Move in with me.” He says, and you’re caught by surprise at the sudden proposal. “I’ve got.. Enough space. A room you can have just for yourself if you ever want some time to yourself. I can continue renting out your old place too if you’d like.” He tells you, hand resting on your waist. “Just.. I’d like to have you close. Every day.” He says. “And night of course.” 
“I mean.. if you’re okay with that?” You say, unsure. “you don’t have to do it just because.. we’re a couple, you know? I can be.. a little chaotic, and loud, you might not-“ 
“I wouldn’t have proposed the idea if I didn’t want it, darling.” He chuckles, easing your mind quite a bit. “Think about it though, before you answer me now. I realize I might’ve come off a bit.. strong with how I phrased it.” He hums, slowly sitting up again with you next to him. “What I really want to say is.. If you wanted to move in with me, I’d welcome you with open arms so to say.” He offers, and you nod.  
“I’ll think about it.”  
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“Hm?” You wonder still half asleep, Jungkook right behind you with his hands running over your skin, legs entangled and lips kissing the back of your neck.  
“You’ve been sleeping for ages.” He complains lightly, his own eyes barely open. “been waiting for you to wake up.”  
“..whats.. why?” You ask, moving a little to stretch your legs out.  
“hm, why..” he just repeats, hands traveling further and further until one of them finds its way beneath your light shirt you wear, bare chest warm beneath his palm. It’s clear to you now what exactly he’s been aiming for when waking you up- intentions obvious, especially with the way he presses himself into you from behind.  
You do have to admit, that it’s been a few days since the last time you two got together like this. With some stress at his work and your own life, you didn’t want to bother him too much- rather deciding to let him reach out on his own, so you know that he’s up for it.  
“You smell nice.” Jungkook comments, running his nose over the crook of your neck. “Is that the.. pink bottle you left here last time?” He asks a bit slurred, himself still somewhat asleep.  
“Hmhm.” You nod. “It’s.. yeah. I forgot it.” You explain, moving a bit to give him better access, and also to show that you’re okay with this. “it’s body lotion.”  
“smells better on you than it does on me.” He chuckles. 
“You used it?” You wonder, and he shrugs, before moving to position himself over you, reaching into his bedside table for a condom.  
“Hey you left it here!” He defends himself. “but it didn’t smell as nice on me.” He admits, shrugging before he moves to shed his cotton pajama pants- the shirt long gone, a habit of his during the night.  
“Well, now I’m here.” You say, and he nods, smiling.  
“You are.” He agrees, tapping your hips to make you lift them, his hands pulling down your underwear and sleep shorts off in one go. He gives the condom to you for now, before he lifts your legs over his shoulders, head lowering between your thighs to eat you out. He’s got a habit of holding eye contact with you during the act, and even now, he does so- soaking up every one of your reactions, eager to see you restless beneath his touch.  
This is the type of love he’d hoped for when he married. This is what he thought could grow from nothing.  
But he’s realizing now that that was a mistake- you can’t just hope for the best and then be disappointed when things don’t turn out the way you’d wanted them. There’s got to be effort put into it, and knowing that now makes him accept the fact that his ex wife isn’t the only reason his marriage failed. He himself also made mistakes, many of them- agreeing to going out with her when he didn’t love her being one of them.  
There’s no clear villain and no obvious victim in his story.  
Your skin is soft beneath his hands as he runs them up and down the sides of your legs- body squirming from his actions beneath them, as you experience things you haven’t before. You’ve never really had anyone ever pay so much attention to you in any way- be it sexually or just with the way that he calls daily to make sure he at least checks in with you whenever you’re apart. And thinking about it, there’s nothing speaking against living together- what's really the worst that could happen? 
You’ve been through the worst. You know that Jungkook would never be anything close to that. 
Your hand finds its way into his hair, unsure where else it’s supposed to go- and you’re faintly apologetic about the way you’re most likely tugging on it the second he pushes you over the edge- but he’s visibly uncaring of it, none of it bothering him it seems. He chuckles as he comes back up to you, wiping his face with his hand before he watches you open your eyes again to look at him. “You okay?” He chuckles, and you nod. 
“I want to move in with you.” You say, and he’s caught off guard, eyes wide for a second before he leans back a little to properly look at you.
“You sure?” He wonders, and you nod. 
“Hmhm.” You nod. “I.. Want to.” You tell him, and he smiles, clearly excited.  
“Okay.” He nods. “Okay! Yeah, we can.. Uhm, I mean, I’ve got the next week and a half set for home-office, so I can help you with the furniture?” He proposes, and you laugh, almost in relief, before he steals the still wrapped condom from your hand that's been holding it the entire time, face leaning down to kiss you.
"But first, let me love you some more."
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890 notes · View notes
satoruhour · 8 months
Note
While I know Suguru is the og girldad, there’s something so endearing about Satoru with a daughter.
First time she’s in his arms and it’s like somebody put the sun into his palms. She has his white hair and six eyes but in shape of your facial features, his loud and boisterous personality and his sweet tooth, and there’s not a thing on this planet he cherishes more than her. Spoils her, wants to be her “superhero” dad children look up to, you best believe everything she draws for him is kept secure in a folder in his room. He never lets anyone treat her as inferior to boys (knowing the misogyny in jjk universe), and both of them love you to piecessssss🥹
Like I just randomly imagine him baking a cake with his little daughter for your birthday and MY HEARTHNSJ😭
WHEN US MEANS MORE THAN ME & U
a/n: literal tears. bye. i love dad gojo sm. wrote this through tears while listening to this. tagging @crysugu @jabamin @hyomagiri @seeingivy ✶
wc: 3k plus?? man idfk cant see thru my tears
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✶ dad!gojo . . .
. . . who ages so well the more he grows older. if you think he looks good at 28, just wait until he’s 34, or 40. although he still has a baby face, his features have matured way more, now, crinkle lines on his forehead and around his lips that accentuate his dimples even more. he just looked… so damn good, truly keeping his physique well into his thirties, except you wouldn’t have known if his hair is turning grey, though, since it’s already white, but you can tell he’s happy when his body hair is not just white upon white.
. . . who has the palest skin, so when he starts to grow a noticeable moustache and goatee he shows you the short strands excitedly, pointing to the various parts of his face with an excited finger and a beaming smile. he annoys you by rubbing his chin and cupid’s bow along your skin in the morning or when he returns home — it’s a little funny seeing you jump in surprise.
. . . who only lets you dictate whether he should keep the facial hair and when you hesitate even one moment (“nope! let’s shave it!”) you’re pulled into the bathroom and handed a shaver and shaving cream. he hums when the blade glides along his skin, knowing you were too afraid to be too rough. gojo liked the tenderness of these moments, you perched upon his lap and bottom lip caught in between your lips as you focused on his chin and cupid’s bow. the grip on your waist is firm, loving the way your thighs close around his own so snugly.
“okay — last one,” you voice out softly, eyes squinting because it was so difficult trying to see white hair from skin. gojo simply giggles at your struggle and you tsk, telling to stop moving! before you’re yelping and the shaver leaves your hand, the soft, plump lips of satoru moving against yours. behind you, there’s a plop! of water, and gojo just laughs when he sees the shaver lodged into the toilet. “ah. well, let’s use yours.” and your mouth twists, “no! i use that to shave…” you trail off and you swear you can hear gojo’s grin and the insult of pervert on your lips. “well! all the more to use it!” ✶
. . . whose vision from the start is slowly turning true. the jujutsu world is in the good hands of his students that he’s able to spend time with you and the (unborn) baby more. he smiles more freely now that he works less missions, but still as cheeky and playful as ever, squishing your cheeks and moving them around as he plants kisses on them. he also shows his feelings more, not afraid to bury his face in your neck and ask for head rubs or tell you he might be thinking about suguru a little too much; the first time satoru put his head to your swelling belly and heard the kid kick he teared up right away, baby talking to the baby bump like the sap he is.
. . . who at first hated his family name because it was only ever associated with his powerful father and then him, with both of his renowned techniques, how it pointed straight to him being the strongest and a cog in the machine to overwork. but now, gojo rather likes it, referring to you as “my wife” and “mrs. gojo” more times than necessary. you gave him his surname meaning by saying your vows and slipping his (rather expensive) ring on your fourth finger. you gave the family name a sense of warmth and homeliness whenever he’d come home to you humming a tune from high school and cooking up some dinner. you gave ‘gojo’ a worth that means more than just the six eyes and limitless — that it’d mean that gojo was the penthouse in some far off tokyo district coupled with you and the baby growing in you.
. . . who when first handed his baby girl, cried full on tears in the hospital, both arms wrapped so snugly around his baby because he was afraid he was going to hurt her or drop her in some way. gojo is generally pretty large in stature that he makes your baby girl look so small that it’s endearing. your cheeks hurt from smiling so much at them, not having the energy to capture the moment since you just quite literally delivered. but satoru much rather have his girls in the picture, handing the baby back to you before he reveals his phone to snap a picture.
“w-would ya look at her?” satoru coos, rocking and bouncing his body gently to ease your baby back into slumber. there’s an ugly show of a mess on his face — snot falling everywhere and tear stains lining his cheeks. but there’s one final thing that has gojo choking up all over again; the baby is curious and feels up his hand, your husband letting a finger out before she curls her small fist around his finger. “oh my god.” it’s cute seeing gojo so distraught as tears spring to his eyes again and he can’t even form words. it makes the baby laugh and he sobers up a little, sniffing and raising a brow. “love seeing your papa cry, huh?” and the baby sputters again and giggles and satoru swears he ascends to heaven and mutters a promise more to himself than your darling girl. “i’ll protect that little smile for as long as i live, okay?” ✶
. . . who is entirely enamoured with his baby girl, carrying her a little too much when she should be in the crib, singing her little songs or pointing out the colours of the sky in the nursery. you watch the scenes like a proud wife and mother, still not used to the beautiful scenes and childlike decorations of the room — only because satoru would not let you in after learning why ellie from up couldn’t conceive even if the paint now was safe. but you don’t have the heart to turn away your husband when this is what you get out of it, reminiscent of when gojo had playfully done to tsumiki and megumi before (“the scenery is beautiful today, gojo-san!” vs. “i already know what colours are, dumbass.”). 
. . . who only asks you to rest while he takes on most of the diaper-changing and feeding duties. you weren’t even that old to begin with, but it seemed like just like you were pregnant, satoru found it offensive that you’d think of even lifting a finger. you let him, for a while, until you find out he’s putting on the diaper wrongly and putting a little too much formula in the bottle, but you simply pat his cheek when he tears again. by god, he doesn’t want to mess this up, he doesn’t want to mess you up, he doesn’t want to mess her up, but you show him with your hands wrapped around his. one, two, three, and a half cups into the bottle; wrap around her right, then her left and secure it with the provided adhesive.
“satoru, baby,” you sigh, going on your tippy toes to kiss away the tears spilling from his cheeks, “you’re not a bad dad because you didn’t know how to make her food or change her diaper.” your fingers are as light as dewdrops, always in awe of his flawless skin and looks, and now, in awe of his consideration and love of your baby girl. “but—” you put up a finger, “no buts— remember? we promised each other not to be sorry if we can’t help it. you are human, my love.” gojo heaves a shaky sigh and swallows away the sobs, nodding against your hand as he covers it and leans into your touch. “i am human,” and a little later after quelling the baby’s cries in bed, “thank you.” ✶
. . . who, when she’s old enough, takes her on flying mishaps, hands tucked under her arm pits to guide her through the house in exaggerated flight. it feels like dad is superman, the sofa, high chair, even mama is all too far away from her and she’s onto her next exciting adventure. the bubbly giggles from your darling girl is the only sound that matters to satoru, alongside your laughter as you watch the two in play while dinner simmer besides you. higher! higher! she asks when she can speak and he does just that with his imposing height, but gojo’s tallness never intimidates his baby girl; no, not when gojo satoru is her hero and you, her solace.
. . . who gives nothing but a multitude of praises when his girl is leaning more into the artistic side, asking for colour pencils and crayons and paint to explore her creativity that with each drawing she shows him, he gasps, falls to the floor, and cries out how it should belong in a museum! gojo is doing the most — hands on his chin and pointing to various parts of the drawing and discussing the “meaning” behind it when all your girl wanted to do was draw the three of you as a happy family. he’s buying the frame, making a plaque for the artwork to be hung; when he’s making copies of the artwork to keep in a folder, he’s crying his eyes out (“she just wanted to draw us, us! as a family!” you giggle, “yes, satoru, that’s what we are.”)
“girlssss! i’m home!” satoru grins when your baby runs up to him, swooping her up before she can crash into his legs and twirls her around. “papa! look at what i drew today!” you’re emerging after cleaning up her very passionate creative space after she swore on finishing it before your husband came back, smiling when she bounces on her heels. “woooow!” he clutches his heart, one knee and then the other before he croaks out “ooouhhhh! why isn’t this masterpiece in a museum yet?! it’s a crime!” if you were in high school, the gojo then would definitely barf at how cheesy he was being at the moment, “very compelling use of colour, here, miss gojo. hmm, yes, yes, i see how you used multiple colours for the sun — very effective in showing the many colours of the sunset!” you’re cheesing so hard at the display because he does this every. time. and it never fails to make her yell in excitement, running over to you as she gives you a big fat kiss on your cheeks, “mama helped me!” a raise of the eyebrow before you finally get your well-awaited kiss to your lips, “i’m sure she did, honey.” ✩
. . .who teaches her the basic things, not shying away from the harsh realities of the world and jujutsu society. he tells her about boys who make fun of girls and think it’s acceptable, or teachers that would only like the strong boys to carry the chairs to the centre of the classroom. he thinks that if he’s going to do this parenting shit, he’s going to do it right, not the way his parents did it, not the way the higher-ups “looked” over young sorcerers. he covers self-defense, verbal comebacks as well as a rejected raise of her hand to threaten a punch (you were the one to stop him from teaching her that — you could only thank it wasn’t a middle finger instead), praising and rewarding her with candy and blown raspberries into her skin.
. . . who teaches her mama is as important as he is, but your darling girl already knows the value of her mother who holds her tight when she has a nightmare, or the airplane on mama’s airline that always holds delicious food. she knows how much her mother loves her when you’re sharing a smile with her at the dinner table as satoru chokes again on his food, and when you pat her to sleep while telling the story of how you and gojo met. that’s why she was the one to suggest that they both bake you a cake for your birthday — with her as the head chef and satoru as her sous chef. 
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“it has to be perfect, papa! no more burning the pancakes in the morning or putting too much sugar.” gojo stifles a laugh at that; it seems that his baby girl had heard the many trivial mishaps that had happened in the kitchen, snapping out of his daze when his daughter lands a light slap on his cheek. “pay attention!” satoru fully laughs now, okay, okay! he says and they read through the recipe together — a family recipe passed down to you — and they try their best. the flour is a little messy, the sugar is a tad too much and satoru thinks he may have preheated the oven too high a heat, but then there’s the familiar smell of the vanilla extract and the rise of the cake in the tin. your baby cheers, collapsing into gojo’s arms in front of the oven and together on the floor, they watch the cake ascend.
“careful, baby, it’s hot.” gojo brings her away when the cake is finally done, dramatically smelling and letting out a sigh at it, “it smells really good, ain’t it?” she purses her lips and points to herself, “all due to me!” and gojo hums in agreement. he’s content to let his baby girl take all the credit when she’s looking as adorable like that, finding that her confidence is looking more and more like his while your kindness shows when she’s propped up on the kitchen island and saying, “but papa was the one who helped me pour everything! so maybe it’s because of both me and papa.”
the “thank you” that satoru whispers into his girl’s temple is a whisper, and the house falls into a comfortable, more calm atmosphere as they work on the icing together. it’s clear that all her excitement has caught up to her and she’s now feeling a little sleepy in between, only shooting up when gojo’s announced the icing’s all mixed properly. “happy . . birthday . . mama,” she draws out in the air with satoru’s finger clutched between her fist, a clear layout in her young mind that he had no choice but to listen (he would always listen), lathering first the white base icing before the pressuring job comes and his darling girl is looking at him with narrowed eyes, “don’t mess it up, papa!”
“i won’t—” and before gojo can start on the lettering, you’re depositing the house keys into the bowl your husband gifted you in high school, letting out a chuckle at the scene before you: the sorcerer’s face caked in white, vanilla extract and broken egg shells on the island and in the middle of it, your husband and your daughter looking like deer caught in headlights.
“hi, mama,” they say in unison and your grin only widens. you could hardly be mad when this doesn’t happen often, already knowing the occasion, but they seemed to be a little bummed out from being found out so you only hope your hug can make it up. your baby girl goes first: she squeals when she’s scooped into your arms, smile so bright it could mirror any angel in heaven. while she still pouts, she’s more than happy to wish you a happy birthday. “thank you, baby. was baking with papa fun?”
she nods so hard her whole body moves in your arms, “papa is very bad at measuring stuff, though.”
you burst out laughing while your husband falls into a greater pout than your daughter did, brushing off the flour from his arms and taking the both of you into his embrace, “she’s so mean to me, sweets.”
“i’m not, just telling the truth. mama, i was the head chef, so i get to say what he’s bad at.” gojo’s pout worsens and you coo, pulling him closer.
“yes, but daddy did help with everything, didn’t he?” you whisper, brushing away the strands that fall over her face. you’ve never really taken the time to take in everything: her white hair, those blue eyes that are a little darker, the lines at the side of her smile that look like yours. instinctively, your forehead rests against hers and upon feeling her nod, you think that this is all you need. “thank you, darling.” and your girl grins again when she feels your peck on her forehead. gojo only can look at his girls with a content smile, pout stretching into his face while his hand never stops caressing your back. “can daddy have a kiss too?”
that night when she’s put to sleep after much protest (you both give in and end up watching your favourite movie together as a present), you’re drawing circles on gojo’s bare chest which also has grown a little bit of hair. his lips upon your hair feels like a divine blessing; he speaks.
“happy birthday again, baby,” a kiss, “only if you came home a liiittle later, though.”
you laugh softly, “actually, i sort of heard your shenanigans when i was standing outside the front door.” satoru jerks from the comfortable position, prompting your head to hit the headboard in a loud ‘thud’.
“oops sorry, baby— but what?!”
you shake your head, roll your eyes, pull him back to tuck yourself under his chin, “you’re so damn dramatic. i just didn’t want to interrupt the both of you. you mean a lot to her, you know.”
gojo sighs, moving away a bit for your head to tilt up and his heart still pulls and tugs like so many years ago. if he recalls correctly, it’s just exactly like this that you shared your first kiss together, the line between friends and lovers blurring so much that all it took was your eyes staring into his to make him notice he never had infinity on around you.
“you made me forget what i was gonna say,” satoru mumbles, a laugh cutting through his features when you smile sheepishly. he copies your outburst, “you’re so damn beautiful.”
“and you mean a lot to her, too. we mean a lot to her — it’s the least we can do when you’ve brought such a beautiful baby into the world,” gojo mutters — it’s late and he’s slurring his words from the fatigue. his eyes glow under the night light and he holds on to you just a little tighter, “to give her a normal life.”
his smile doesn’t quite reach his eyes, and there’s the sheen of his tears again. “we will succeed, don’t you worry.” you silence his doubts with a kiss, “you’re doing a great job of a father, ‘toru. i will keep reminding you until my voice turns hoarse and i can’t speak.”
normally, he’d tease you but all it does is make the tears full spill over; but they’re happy this time. satoru only lets you catch his lips in a deep kiss, quietening his sobs as your hands fumble at his undercut and his face. you can hear the faint “thank you”’s he mumbles and you’re also close to crying, pulling away to admire him — god, you loved him so much you feel like you could collapse. he loved you so much he would do it all over again if it meant having you in every life.
“thank you for having me. thank you for loving me, baby,” satoru whispers, wiping at your tears as did you and he laughs, “dunno why we’re cryin’. s’pposed to be a happy moment.”
you huff (of course, he’d say something funny now), but that’s just one of many things you love about him. all you do is hold him closer that night and mutter a prayer — to virgin, to buddha, to anyone who would listen.
it might get difficult along the way: one of you may need to take on more missions, your baby will be growing up and heading to school. there will be difficult talks, puberty, tantrums, none of you were truly ready. and yet, despite it all, you’d still have your satoru, the one who made tsumiki and megumi into what they are today. despite it all, you’d still have each other and your darling girl, your family of gojo’s whose definition changed from suffocating to belonging. despite it all, as long as galaxies are created and supernovas happening and the planets revolve around the sun, it’d take light years for your love to diminish even one speck.
your love for each other could surpass the cosmos — that in itself is enough.
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part two
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pshcomforts · 2 months
Text
➳ older | psh.
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non!idolsunghoon x fem!reader (feat. jaemin and jisung from nct)
“think i need someone older, just a little bit colder”
synopsis: sunghoon is your brother’s friend who you’ve grown up with, but now you guys share lingering kisses and quiet touches.
warnings/content: written in third pov. suggestive content! tension. sunghoon gets jealous (who’s surprised). he’s also very confident in here. age gap (reader is 18). introverted y/n. cursing and not proofread.
comments, likes, and reposts are appreciated :)
word count: 5.4k
a/n: fictional characters — dae (jungwon’s boyfriend), min-su (heeseung’s girlfriend), and ji-woo (jake’s girlfriend).
༘˚⋆𐙚。masterlist⋆.✧˚
current song playing: older by isabel larosa
↻ ◁ II ▷ ↺
0:39 ─────|────────────── -1:37
it was a normal, sunny day in the house of y/n and her brother. it had only been the two since their parents had left town for the week.
“hey, i’m gonna have my friends over. stay in your room,” the male said to her.
she gave an eye roll along with a disgusted look in return. “whatever, its not like i talk to your friends,” but she did.
her brother’s friend group consisted of heeseung, jay, jake, sunghoon, jaemin, and jisung. the enhypen members had been his long term friends ever since they were little — he met heeseung at the age of 10 and a few years along the way, the 02z liners popped up.
as they grew older, their group expanded when they came across jaemin and jisung in their high school years. ever since then, the group’s been growing and improving together.
with y/n’s brother meeting each boy at such a young age, the girl grew up with them as well. in such luck, her eyes trailed to jaemin. he was always so sweet to her that it caused her heart call to be for him and only him.
well, possibly not just for him.
when y/n got older, she realized that jaemin remained to just be a childhood crush. he was still the same guy she knew him as, but she just grew out of the fond memories she shared with him.
instead, she found herself to constantly look at sunghoon quite more often than she’d think.
she started to see him in a different way. the boy would always go back to the house with her brother after soccer practice, and just little gestures exchanged between the two sent heart throbs.
as time passed, she became more flustered around him — in which caused her to come to terms with the fact that she did like him. but they grew up together, they watched each other mature into the person they were.
that acknowledgement didn’t stop them though.
it had been a party thrown by her brother for who knows what; and one thing lead to another, and sunghoon had randomly admitted his feelings.
*:・゚✧*:・゚✧ — flashback
“you’re really pretty, you know that?” hoon uttered out in the silence, alcohol slightly reeking out of him.
y/n’s cheeks burned with red as she became flushed. “what?? that’s so random??” she tried to laugh off how awkward it was but only caused it to become more tense.
it was only the two of them in her room. the party was coming to an end with goodbyes, and sunghoon apparently needed his book back that she had borrowed, so they went to her bedroom (it was just an excuse).
when he received the object, he denied the request to go back out there as his social battery was running out (another excuse).
the boy just wanted some alone time, who can blame him?
“i’m serious,” hoon murmured. he turned to face her as they remained to be sitting on the edge of the bed, legs touching and feet near each other.
“uhm.. thank you?” she replied, emphasizing her question mark at the end.
he gave a light chuckle, showing his wide grin as he said, “why’d you say it like that?”
y/n quickly scrunched her brows together, giving a swift shrug to her shoulders before she replied, “i don’t know?? how else am i supposed to thank you?”
“with a kiss.” his lips crashed against hers in an instant. she was taken back for a second but melted in once she felt the tug of his lips.
he pulled away not too long after to let the longing for another sink in. a grin played on his lips, fully amused of her flustered state.
“you just kissed me..,” y/n raised her hands to her lips to graze where his lips had touched hers just seconds ago.
“i like you loser, you haven’t noticed that?” sunghoon said with a chuckle. his brows raised up as he continued to watch her try to find her words.
her mouth opened to speak but nothing could come out. he truly made her at a loss for words with the sudden surge of confidence he had to kiss and confess.
“guess you’ve just been too busy gawking at jaemin huh?” his lips curled into a smirk afterward, causing the girl to hit his shoulder.
“shut up!” they giggled together before the door had suddenly boomed open to the sight of her brother in a drunken state.
“hey.. it’s my friend, sunghoon and my sister, y/n! what are you guys doing?” he slurred out with fluttered eyes.
she rolled her eyes at him while trying to slowly back away from the boy she had just kissed. “oh god, you’re drunk, aren’t you?”
“no bro, my tolerance is good.” his feet soon stumbled down and so did his body. the stupid male fell down to the floor with how drunk he was.
“oh my god…,” she mumbled, giving a heavy sigh as she kneeled down beside him.
sunghoon softly laughed at watching how the siblings interacted.
“sorry..” she slightly whispered to him as she shook her brother who was on the floor.
“it’s okay y/n, we’ll talk soon.” he blinked his eyes in reassurance as he walked over to his friend. “rest well dude,” a soft pat was made to the boy on the floor as hoon smiled and walked out her bedroom door.
*:・゚✧*:・゚✧
they haven’t talked as much since then.
and as much as y/n’s brother denied it, he was protective of her and sunghoon knew that. he had a younger sister himself, so he understood.
he always remembered the words of her brother that echoed in his head — “y/n’s my little sister, she’s off limits.”
in retrospect, they specifically went out to jaemin as y/n’s name always rolled off of his tongue.
but sunghoon liked the girl. he always did. watching each other grow was something special as he admired from afar.
when she got to an older age, he found it difficult to get her out of his head. they were three years apart though and he acknowledged that, so he tried to move on.
but it didn’t help that they had just kissed months ago. she’d been stuck in his mind just as he was to her.
so when her brother had mentioned his friends coming over, she had to act as if she was unfazed.
a few knocks on the door were made and the whole friend group came flooding in. the boys soon comfortably situated themselves on the couch.
“where’s y/n?” jaemin asked, taking a sip of his opened soda afterward. sunghoon’s ears perked up as he waited for the answer.
“who cares about her?” her brother responded, truthfully remaining a little curious as to why he asked for her.
“oh come on, your sister’s cute.”
the girl’s brother morphed into an appalled look. “ha ha very funny. you’re disgusting, jaemin.”
he raised his arms in defense, hearing the others chime in as well. “that’s his little sister, bro.” jake said with a chuckle.
“says the one who’s dating her friend!”
the australian boy quickly shut his mouth after.
“he’s got you there,” heeseung amusingly added.
jaemin puffed out his lips as he let air pass. “you’re dating her other friend, hee” jisung squeaked out with a giggle.
heeseung became quiet, causing loud laughs to erupt from the group.
“you guys may be dating her friends, but that doesn’t mean you can date her.” y/n’s brother defensively said.
sunghoon trailed his eyes from the left and then to the right as he quietly whispered, “oh fuck.”
they weren’t exactly dating, but they still shared small pecks on the lips whenever they had the chance.
he couldn’t help it, it was like a craving.
“you’re quiet hoon,” jake mischievously spoke.
everybody landed their eyes on the boy as he took a gulp. “i just need to take a piss” he mumbled, avoiding eye contact as he got up and left.
“strange…,” y/n’s brother uttered.
“strange indeed,” heeseung whispered, sharing a suspicious glance to jake. they definitely heard something from their partners.
as sunghoon found his way to the bathroom, he also searched for y/n. luckily, her bedroom was near so he didn’t have to look far.
“y/n?” he quietly peeped, head peaking through the crack of the door.
a gasp was heard from the other end. “sunghoon?” she harshly whispered, widening the door crack to a smiley hoon.
“missed you,” he quietly mumbled in her ear while closing the door behind him. his arms wrapped around her, sighing in the warm embrace she exuded.
“missed you too.” she shyly said back with her head against his broad chest.
“y/n?? is that sunghoon?” her airpod muffled out.
the boy raised his brows before turning his head to her phone and finding her on call with her friends — min-su, dae, and ji-woo.
“you’re calling them?”
“yeah..”
in seconds, she could hear them go quiet in her ears, only for them to go loud again with booming questions; a few about their boyfriends who were at her house and a few about their undefined relationship.
she groaned out a sigh before double tapping her airpod, disconnecting from the call.
“sorry, i wanted to be kept busy while you guys were here.” y/n pushed her lips into a firm line to display how awkward she was feeling.
hoon gave a chuckle as a response — “i could’ve been helping you with that.” his brows raised in a suggestive way, earning a loud slap on his arm.
“ew sunghoon!” her face struck in horror as his words replayed in her ears.
truth be told, she got butterflies in her stomach with how close he was when he said it, but that didn’t stop her from hitting him. “the way you’re so confident right now is crazy, what if my brother finds you in my room like this?”
the inner corner of his lips slowly curled in mischief. “don’t worry gorgeous, he hasn’t found out the past few times i’ve visited you for a kiss.”
y/n’s eyes widened at the nickname. “gorgeous??? god hoon, you need to be put down.” she shook her head before rubbing her fingers on her temple. the boy was stressing her out but she was secretly enjoying the little things he was risking for her.
“i’m serious loser, if he finds out, we’re both done for. you know how he is!”
sunghoon grinned ear to ear, simply melting from her stressed state. “i know i know, you’re just so mesmerizing that i have to come back to you.”
he grabbed her chin from the bottom and smiled in amusement, enjoying how flustered he could make her with his flirtatious acts.
“i don’t know whether to feel disgusted or special right now,” she murmured, slightly killing the romantic mood.
he scoffed at her words. “you should feel special.” his head dipped lower to her lips, foreheads bunking while closing the gap as she whispered, “should i?”
his lips curled into a smile, uttering — “mhm” before letting their lips meet. her hands wrapped around his neck to pull him closer.
it was a soft kiss with how gentle he was going, but he still let a low groan leave his lips as his brows scrunched together.
hoon had finally got his craving, but the hungry desire was building up.
before he could go any further, y/n quickly pulled away to let him linger for more. he tried to connect their lips back together again but she stopped him with a head turn.
sunghoon was confused and his face showed it, causing the girl to softly laugh at his reaction.
“that was cute, but you have to go back before he notices you weren’t even in the bathroom in the first place.” she quietly said against his lips.
“so let him,” he groaned out before attempting to swoop in for another kiss.
she dodged it again as she shook her head. “no hoon, i’m serious. he might actually kick your ass.”
sunghoon rolled his eyes, tone becoming bitter as he replied, “so close to telling him for us.”
she gave a giggle at his words before nudging his arm. “just go back.”
“but-“
“hoon??” a voice from the hallway called out.
the two froze together before y/n slightly pushed him away from her.
the voice didn’t belong to her brother, but she knew it was one of the boys.
in seconds, jake peaked in through the door. he caught on a little too quick as he automatically smiled.
“what’s going on in here hm?”
sunghoon’s face peered into repulse at the sight of his friend. “shut up dude.”
jake softly chuckled before continuing on, “he sent me up here to check on you since you were taking too long in the bathroom. guess you just got lost in y/n’s room huh?”
y/n smiled and shook her head at the boy. “shut up jake…,”
he laughed in return as sunghoon’s cheeks were faintly colored red. “i’ve been knowing all along bro, ji-woo told me already. jisung owes me.. but you don’t have to look all embarrassed.” he nudged his arms in a playful way as the girl continued to laugh. “her brother might kill you though..”
“let’s just go. you’re embarrassing me,” sunghoon muttered, grabbing hold of the shorter boy to leave the room.
“hey don’t worry, i won’t tell anyone! and tell ji-woo to text me back y/n, yeah?” jake shouted. he earned a head smack from hoon in return so her brother couldn’t hear anything.
the two bickered like siblings as they walked through the hallway, leaving y/n alone in her bed. a smile curled onto her lips before she went back to her phone and rejoined the call with her friends, not forgetting to tell ji-woo to text jake back.
.  . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆
days had passed since the boys came over. within the time gone, y/n’s brother had received news that he was getting promoted to a higher position in his job.
to celebrate, a party came in mind.
night arrived and the event soon began.
the party didn’t consist of a lot of people, but there were enough to cause social anxiety in the host’s sister.
she didn’t bother to converse with many people as she stayed near her friends — who, of course, were dating her brother’s friends so she stayed lingering around by herself.
the poor girl sighed to herself as she was alone.
no sight of hoon could be found but even if she did find him, she couldn’t risk it. to be quite frank, they hadn’t talked in a while. and along with that, they hadn’t kissed, so tension between them was growing.
it only worsened though when she found him to be talking to some girl.
just a random girl she didn’t know.
it didn’t matter that she didn’t know who that girl was, it mattered that he was talking to someone else who wasn’t her.
the 5’11 boy was seemingly enjoying the conversation he was having with her, laughing about who knows what. it boiled her blood to see that he was giving that same smile he gave her when they kissed the day that jake interrupted them.
she knew it was to throw off suspicions from her brother but did he really have to do it too well?
✩ ‘baby, am i your little secret?’ ✩
“want some company?” a familiar voice asked her, interrupting her train of thought.
y/n looked up and found jaemin offering her a can of soda. “sure,” she murmured with a smile.
he took the seat beside her as he sighed. “it’s overwhelming isn’t it?”
she peeked her eyes at him once she took a sip of her beverage. “yeah… i’d rather not interact with all of them.” her chuckle was soft as he reflected it in the same tone.
“still the same shy girl i know huh?”
she didn’t like him anymore, but that sure had her slightly flustered. her eyes widened a bit as she turned to him — “i’m not shy! i just don’t want to talk to people” — she defended.
jaemin’s laugh became louder as he teased, “yeah right. i know you y/n, you’re not one to talk first.”
the girl rolled her eyes in defeat. “okay okay fine.”
he grinned again while bunking shoulder to shoulder with her. “so who are you willing to talk to then?”
they met eyes right away and almost immediately, his gaze softened.
her inner child would be screaming with how close he was right now.
but she didn’t like him, not anymore. she liked sunghoon.
and no matter how close her old crush was near her, she couldn’t stop thinking about how hoon might’ve been doing something else with that girl.
y/n softly pulled away as her eyes twinkled in the light. “just anyone really,” she said with a half smile.
jaemin’s left corner of his lips curled as he smiled and nodded.
“i used to like you, you know?” he suddenly admitted.
her head quickly whipped to him as he chuckled at her reaction. “yeah i used to like you but i backed off because of your brother.”
she felt her heart pounding from his words but she didn’t know if it was from her younger self screaming in joy, or what.
“you did?” the girl asked, fingertips unusually becoming numb.
he nodded his head and gave a bread smile. “you were so cute when you were little.” he gazed his eyes down, going into remembrance of how they used to be in their younger years.
when y/n opened her mouth to speak, she felt a quick tug fling at her wrist.
in seconds, she was pulled away from the brown haired boy who was just as confused as her. her eyes glanced up and found a jealous sunghoon in front of her.
from what she didn’t see, hoon had been observing from afar. he didn’t mean to go stalker mode but he couldn’t help it with how jaemin had suddenly approached his girl.
his eyes darted at the two, resisting it all in himself to not pull her right away. he had enough of it though when he saw how close his friend had gotten to her. his jaw clenched when he imagined the possibility of jaemin connecting his lips with the girl he’s been wanting to kiss.
“hoon?”
“shut up.” he angrily spat out.
his grip accidentally became tighter as he continued to drag her up to her room, not caring if her brother had seen (he didn’t).
when they finally got to her room, he shut the door and pinned her against it.
she slightly winced in pain, almost causing him to let go of his rough act. it didn’t work though because the thought of jaemin and her closely together angered him even more.
he felt a bitter grudge fill every inch of his body as his jaw tensed, eyes staring deeply into hers.
“you gonna keep talking to jaemin, or should i tell your brother?” one hand was slammed against the door, near her head as the other still held onto her, caging her to himself.
“you know jaemin and i aren’t-“
“then why do you keep talking to him?” sunghoon cut her off, sounding sour in his tone as his eyes never dared to leave hers.
y/n slightly rolled her eyes. she liked seeing him jealous but he was honestly annoying her.
“why do you care?” she challenged. her lips softly grinned as he mirrored it, enjoying how confident she got.
he inched his face closer to hers, breath becoming hot and heavy against her — allowing the girl to reel in the scent of alcohol he radiated.
their lips were so close to touching, so close to finally meeting again after days of intense silence.
sunghoon lingered his eyes on her lips, tracing every part of it with his vision before moving onto her eyes.
the boy peered his gaze into her, slowly displaying that his orbs were pleading with lust and hunger.
he licked his lips, letting his tongue peek a little for her to see as he raised his brows and gave a smug smile at the same time.
“you belong to me,” he whispered.
butterflies and nervous sensations hit every part of y/n’s body with just those words. she felt weak in the knees in how he delivered his sentence.
the words were so possessive and yet charming.
hoon’s head dipped in to close the small gap between them, only for y/n to stop him with a hand on his chest.
the tension couldn’t be cut through with how much they craved for each other.
he slightly backed away, brows faintly raising as she shook her head. “you’re drunk, sunghoon.”
he gave a laughing scoff before letting his eyes trail back to her lips. “am i? because why is it that all i can imagine right now is how you kissed me the other day.”
he placed his thumb on her bottom lip, pulling it back as his mouth opened as well. a soft groan erupted out of his throat while holding himself back from smashing their lips against each others.
she was so close to giving in.
his desperation for a kiss had her almost folding. but she had to stop herself.
he was drunk, and she wasn’t about to take advantage of his vulnerable state.
it was something, but it was not the way.
when sunghoon tried to dive in for another kiss on the lips, y/n’s hands firmly placed itself on his muscled shoulders.
“you’re not in the best state to make decisions right now.” she stared deeply at him as he furrowed his brows.
“are you sure about that?” hoon’s head drooped to her shoulders, allowing her to instantly feel his hot breath.
he whimpered out a sigh at the feel of his lips on her clothed skin. “you drive me crazy,” he whispered, placing wet kisses at her shoulder and leading up to her collarbone.
as he attempted to do so, his eyes closed a little longer than he wished. and instantly, he was knocked out.
she huffed out a sigh, half in laughter and half in annoyance that his body weight was suddenly depending on her. “geez,” she mumbled. “kissing me and now you’re asleep.”
her hands pushed him off of her so he could fall back on the bed.
the girl smiled as her gaze softened with each second she admired him. “sleep well idiot,” she whispered before turning out the lights.
.  . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆
when morning came, sunghoon’s eyes forced itself awake from the bright light.
a pounding was taken to the head as he groaned out in pain. he looked around, eyes scanning everywhere as little placements of the room began to be recognized.
he peaked his head up to the left, soon finding a barrier of pillows in the middle of the bed, separating him and the girl he liked. y/n remained softly asleep on her side as she was all the way at the edge of the bed.
once he blinked enough to gain conscious of how far she was, he softly smiled.
“cute,” he quietly mumbled to himself.
as he was about to reach for a blanket to cover her up, the door was suddenly opened to y/n’s brother. his mouth gaped open in shock as his eyes widened.
“what the hell are you doing in my sister’s room???” he loudly questioned, awakening y/n.
she blinked in confusion before gaining hold that she slept in the same bed as sunghoon, and her brother had just caught her.
“calm down,” she grumbled while tiredly rubbing her eyes.
her brother clicked his tongue before yelling — “get the hell out of her bed sunghoon! what the hell is wrong with you?”
with said, hoon jumped out of the bed, only for the older boy to skip close to him. “that’s my sister!!”
“okay look-“
“no! get out! you are not getting anywhere closer to her”
“you can’t do that!” y/n defensively screamed.
“shut the hell up! you’re a kid, you can’t- he can’t- just get out of here sunghoon!”
the younger male quickly rushed out, not needing to be told twice to do such a thing as he panicked.
a few hours passed and her brother continued to rage even though hoon had left.
“are you kidding me, y/n??”
she rolled her eyes and sighed. “it’s not that big of a deal as you’re making it.”
“you’re eighteen and he’s twenty-one dumbass! he’s older than you by three years, what makes you think this is okay??”
“we like each other and it’s genuine.”
“you’re a kid, y/n. he’s gonna be in his mid twenties soon and you just turned eighteen. you don’t even know what’s best from left to right. how are you gonna handle it if he breaks up with you??
“well i guess we’ll just have to wait and see huh!” she yelled, rolling her eyes and rubbing her temple in irritation. “three years isn’t as bad as you’re making it.”
“it is when you’re just fucking eighteen, stupid.”
“calm the fuck down,” she took a sigh in as she mentally told herself to calm down. “okay look, i know you’re pissed because he’s your friend and he’s three years older than me, but i’m telling you, him and i match really well.”
her brother gave a soft scoff, shaking his head in disappointment as he said, “you’re just gonna get hurt, dumbass.”
she knew he was being protective, but he couldn’t control her love life.
“sunghoon and i are-“
“are what? together now?” he ridiculed.
y/n rolled her eyes. “would it really be that bad for us to be together?”
before she could say anything else, he walked away. her brother didn’t want to hear what she had to say anymore. the argument would only be going back and forth so he left it as it is.
.  . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆
a few days had passed since the incident, and y/n’s brother hasn’t talked to her or sunghoon.
in fact, y/n and hoon haven’t talked to each other either. they felt it best to keep a distance for the time being.
when it was late in the night, the girl was calling the same four friends as usual. they yapped on and on about various topics.
as her friend, dae continued to talk about his date with jungwon, a light tapping was made on the window.
being the paranoid girl she was, her heart stopped before she turned to her phone — “did you guys hear that?? that wasn’t just me right..,”
“girl.. i heard it too,” said ji-woo with a clear eyebrow raise.
“uhm me too but i didn’t want to say it,” dae quirked out.
“you’re being haunted y/n,” min-su commented with a smile.
“shut up!” the girl on the other end yelled, hands shakily grabbing hold of the phone to see if she missed any notifications that could be related to the tapping window.
indeed, she did.
hoonie :) : It’s me
hoonie :) : Open please ..
y/n huffed out a sigh as she went to the window. “hold on guys, i’ll be back.” she told her friends, ending the call while opening the window to sunghoon.
he came tumbling in, chest heaving up and down. “finally,” he breathed.
“what are you doing here, sunghoon?” her arms folded together in curiosity.
the boy breathed heavily as he caught his breath.
“i just..,” he stopped himself to get closer to her, hands cupping her cheeks as he lovingly stared. “i just wanted to see you.”
“what if-“
“it’s okay, i’ll only be here for a second. i just really missed you.”
y/n cracked a smile as his cheesy words caused her heart to thump in joy.
“i missed you too…,” she quietly said before leaning in for a small peck on the lips.
“you just stole my next act,” hoon replied with a pout.
she laughed at his reaction, rolling her eyes as her hands trailed up to his own. “just do it again.”
and he did.
the male pushed himself toward her lips after being granted with permission.
his hands became tighter around her cheeks as he forced more of his lips on hers, pushing her back so she could hit the wall. she softly groaned from the act while he felt relieved to feel her lips on his again.
with them keeping a distance, the tension easily grew and the kiss had just satisfied that, but he craved for more.
he was hungry, and thrilled, even, to finally have their lips connect. it was evident with how much his grip tightened around her waist.
the girl finally pulled away, hands holding him back as she panted deeply for fresh air. “gosh..,” she breathed, fisting her hands so she could harshly bump it against his strong chest.
sunghoon gave a faint laugh in return. his head bunked against hers as he placed a sweet kiss on the top of her nose.
“i’ve been waiting.”
y/n rolled her eyes, softly hitting his arm as she said, “he’s really gonna find out!”
“let him, he already knows.”
he connected his lips with hers again, almost sloppy with the way they touched, but it was nothing but sweet.
he intended to keep the mood that way and so did she.
“hoon..,” she mumbled against his lips. “he could-“
“shut up.” sunghoon smashed his lips against hers, muffling out the leftover words in her mouth as she melted into it.
she felt her heart rate exceed at an unhealthy pace when his finger nails dug into the flesh of her waist.
he pulled away again, panting hard while still leaving littered kisses on her lips.
“stop kissing me, hoon! im scared,” she pushed him away with a hit on his shoulder.
sunghoon only chuckled as a reaction, finding it amusing with how afraid she was. his fangs shined in her eyes as he continued to laugh.
“you’re cute when you worry,” he teased.
his hand reached to her hair, tucking a few strands behind as he looked at her with yearning eyes.
“gorgeous girl,” he whispered before placing a soft kiss on her cheek. “your brother may scare me too, but he can’t completely break us apart.”
y/n’s lips curled into a smile as she quietly agreed. “plus, you’re already mine.” he added on, intertwining his hands with hers and raising it as proof.
she rolled her eyes and nodded her head — “fine fine, but if he catches us, i’m blaming you.”
he cracked out a laugh — “okay gorgeous.” he dragged her to her bed before wrapping his arms around her. his head rested on top of hers as their legs dangled together.
as they remained on the bed, trying to be as secretive as possible, y/n checked her phone real quick to text her group chat that she wasn’t gonna join back.
but a few quick texts from her brother had stopped her.
‘I know he’s there dumbass’
‘He better treat you right’
she grinned ear to ear after feeling a heavy weight lift off of her shoulders.
a quick like and response to the message was made before shutting her phone off and turning to sunghoon.
“he knows,” she whispered.
his eyes blew up in shock. “he does??”
“mhm, and he’s okay with it so you better be glad.” she said, letting her hands go to his hair to play with it.
y/n picked at the soft strands that peaked out, smiling as she felt her heart warming up with him.
hoon watched her play with his hair, eyes longing with love as her embrace was becoming home to him.
the two stayed in their position a little longer before ultimately deciding to watch a movie together.
the night ended in a softhearted silence as they slept in each other’s arms. she was sound asleep with his hoodie on while he clung onto her.
everything felt right with the world now that they were together without the burden of her brother.
★・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・★
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too-much-tma-stuff · 2 months
Text
Finally Getting Help (prt 6)
Masterpost
The Wayne family gathered in the family room once Alfred was done setting up the projector, somehow there was also a plate of cookies and a couple pots of tea on the coffee table. How he’d found the time they didn’t know, he always seemed to be doing just a little more than should be possible but they didn’t question it. 
Jazz seemed nervous as she plugged in her USB and accessed the power point on Ghosts and Liminality. The tidal page had a picture of Danny in his Phantom form standing with a group of others, a boy with gray skin and blond hair, a girl with green hair and skin, and a goth with purple eyes and a dark skinned boy who looked around Danny’s age, and Jazz with the title “Ghosts and Liminals!” 
The next slide had simple text: “What are they and How are they made?”
With each slide she read the text on the screen allowed and then added any context or anecdotes she thought of, or had prepared. 
(Next slide)
Ghosts:
Made of ectoplasmic energy and obsession
Made either:
when someone dies with strong enough desires
An idea gains enough traction to take on a life of its own
Immutable concepts and gods
Must be allowed to indulge in obsessions or they will cease to exist
All have basic abilities such as flight, intangibility, invisibility, and minor shape shifting
On top of basic abilities most will have additional powers based on their obsessions
Immortal unless killed 
Love to fight
Liminals
Made when a human is exposed to high levels of ectoplasm for prolonged periods of time
Have some ghostly traits 
Ghostly traits vary person to person
Less susceptible to human illness and injury
“The ghosts on the picture are Kitty and Johnny, we’ve had problems with them but would consider them friends now. They’re the ghosts of two humans who died, but there are others, Vortext for instance is the ghost of Storms. Those ghosts who come from ideas are called ‘neverborns’. There seem to be almost an infinite number of ghosts, however not all of them are interested in having anything to do with us so we tend to get the same faces showing up a lot in Amity.
“I don’t know how many liminals there are. I thought they might be new with my parents' research but as I look into it more I think there are more natural sources of ectoplasm then my parents thought.” Jazz explained before going to transition to the next slide.
“I have a question-” Bruce started before Jazz hushed him. 
“Wait till the end please! I might answer it without you having to ask,” She scolded, and he felt very much like a schoolboy again as his children snickered.
(Next slide including a image of the glowing green viles in the Fenton’s lab and a glowing green crystal)
Ghost biology 
Ghosts do not have any recognizable organs or bones
The only solid part of their being is their Core which is the source of their ectoplasm 
Any injury to a ghosts form not done directly to their core is considered minor and will heal
A healthy ghost is fully capable of mending any damage including removed limbs in a matter of hours or days depending on extent of the injury
All injuries not including the Core are considered minor 
Ghosts are considered young for at least the first hundred years of their existence and are often not considered adults until nearly 500
A caveat to this is ghosts are heavily driven by emotion and will often be the age they feel they are allowing ghosts to mature much more quickly, or more slowly
When this is the case ghosts are treated as the age they present and behave
Ghosts reproduce by shaping ectoplasm and Wanting a child badly enough
“Believe me it was incredibly scary the first time I saw Danny in his ghost form have something go right through his stomach. It took him a long time to convince me it wasn’t a big deal and it barely hurt. He does have to make sure he repairs the damage Before turning human again though or the damage can transfer over and I don’t need to tell you a hole in the gut is a lot more serious for humans!
“If I’m honest I only know ghosts that have stayed younger then they really are, for instance Youngblood who’s a few hundred years old and could be well on his way to adulthood if he wanted but has remained a child. I assume it can go the other way though, if a ghost is very mature for their age.”
Ectoplasm 
Ectoplasm is the energy that makes up all ghosts and the Ghost Zone itself. All ghosts can feed on the ectoplasm around them as well as produce their own by indulging in obsessions. The ghosts Cores produce the ectoplasm like a brain produces neurochemicals when exposed to the right stimulation.
Ectoplasm is a powerful source of energy but unstable. When it is stabilized into an ecto-crystal it is more stable and can be used as a power source safely by ghosts and liminals.
“Most ectoplasm is green like you see in the pictures. But it isn’t the only colour, some other ghosts produce different colours and it is highly tied to what emotion drives them. When it’s pure it usually smells like petracore but it can get pretty foul.”
(next slide)
What are Obsessions
Every ghost has one or more obsessions
They can be very literal things such as boxes, or ideas and emotions such as Love
In rarer cases they may have dual obsessions
Unlike for humans obsessions are very healthy for ghosts
Ghosts need to indulge their obsessions
Sometimes the way ghosts indulge their obsessions might seem evil, however it is almost always just amoral 
Obsessions shape every part of a ghost from their powers to thier physical appearance, to befriend a ghost you Must understand and aid their obsession
In very extreme circumstances a ghosts obsession may shift, sometimes this is healthy, more often it is a result of extreme trauma
“With my interest in psychology this was sort of hard for me to accept. From the outside the way ghosts obsess seems really unhealthy but it’s what gives them life. When not allowed to indulge in their obsessions ghosts will dysregulate and go to extreme lengths to try and get their obsession, if that doesn’t work they either go dormant if their core is still healthy enough or they will melt. 
“Ghosts change their obsessions very rarely, I’ve heard of it happening as they heal. For instance once a ghost has gotten revenge for themselves, if that was their obsession, their obsession might shift to avenging other people, or even protecting them so they don’t need to be avenged.”
(Next Slide)
Ghost Culture
The Ghosts have a monarchy
The title of the Ghost King is not hereditary but passed through trial by combat
Under the monarch is a council of being known as Observants, and powerful and old ghosts called Ancients 
Ghosts respect strength and value power and cunning in combat a lot
Ghosts bond with each other through combat and play fight with family and friends often
“I have down that the ghosts are a monarchy, and technically that is true but the current Ghost King was a tyrant who was locked away thousands of years ago. I’m sure as soon as someone shows up who’s powerful enough to beat him his court will be happy to pick up where they left off with a better King, or queen, though I don’t think the title has to change based on gender.
“I really can’t stress enough how violent ghosts are! Because nothing short of having their cores shattered can kill them, play fighting for them can look Very Much like a murder attempt to a human. A lot of the issues we’ve had with ghosts have come from them just not understanding quite how fragile humans, and for most of them they feel really bad once they know they actually Hurt someone by shooting them. It’s really best for everyone when they’re kept separate and Ghosts can happily tear each other apart in peace.”
Liminals
The result of long term low level exposure to ectoplasm, sudden high doses are almost always deadly
Liminals Can have almost every trait a ghost can, usually having a combination of a few
Commonalities between liminals include
Minor cosmetic changes such as: glowing eyes, pointed ears, and/or sharp teeth 
Increased stamina, strength, and aggression
Increased obsessive behaviour
Liminals sometimes develop powers shaped by the strength and type of obsession 
“Most of the people Danny and I know are liminals. I don’t want to talk about them in case they don’t want to be outed so I’ll talk about myself and my parents. We all had prolonged exposure after all. My ears are pointed,” She said brushing her hair back so they could see them, “And Danny is a little more then liminal but even in human form he has fangs. 
“My parents didn’t realize it but they could to the point they could subsist on their obsession without needing to eat or sleep as often as a regular human would. About a year ago I started developing the ability to tap into and feel other peoples emotions, I can feed on them a little too but I try not to because the Worst ghost we met did that and I don’t want to be anything like her.”
(Next Slide)
In conclusion
Ghosts are not evil even though sometimes their actions are hard to understand
Never get between ghosts when they’re fighting each other but it’s usually safe to yell at them to remind them not to break anything
Never get between a ghost and their obsession
Don’t drink ectoplasm unless you know you’re already liminal
“I have a feeling the section about liminals will be familiar to a bunch of you. I know Damian is liminal though I don’t know how he was exposed to ectoplasm and some of you,” Her eyes skirted across Tim and Bruce. “Are toeing the line. You’ll probably notice Damian and Danny getting really close, and they might get in some really vicious looking fights. I promise Danny is playing at least.”
The family was left silent for a moment, Bruce knew he was thinking about Jason. Who had died, been exposed to.. What certainly seemed to be something like Lazarus water and come back, obsessive, aggressive, and emotional. He wished he’d had this powerpoint a long time ago. It helped understand Damian too but mostly he was thinking about Jason. He needed to reach out again, maybe meeting Danny would be good for Jason?
“So uhhh, ya, that’s the end of the powerpoint?” Jazz said, shifting from foot to foot in the awkward silence. “Any questions?”
Next
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