#but I feel guilty for not helping people with their OWN responsibilities half the time

[junglejim4322]

Wtf is wrong with my brain that my first instinct when someone is genuinely incompetent is to offer to do things they should very well know how to do for them I want to beat my codependency brain to death with a hammer

[moonstruckme]

James Potter or tasm!peter parker fluff or comfort?? I dont mind whatever you write ill love 🙏🙏

Thanks for requesting :)

cw: implied past abuse

tasm!Peter Parker x fem!reader ♡ 1.2k words

Peter’s having a rough week. These things always seem to happen to him. He’s got a big presentation at work on Friday, by which time the project he’s been underfunded and understaffed for has to be finished. His Aunt May has been busy with work, too, so either you or Peter is at her place most nights trying to help out, except she seems to think when it’s Peter it’s familial responsibility but when it’s you it's an unfair burden, so it’s mostly been Peter. There’s also an impressively organized cell of criminals he’s been trying to investigate before they blow up a bank or something. So of course, he’s sleep deprived to boot. 

And while you know the rough edge of frustration in his voice isn’t meant for you, hearing it makes your skin tighten nonetheless. 

“How does a person run out of salt?” Peter stalks through the front door and straight into the kitchen. “Or maybe the better question is, why does it take going to three bodegas to find one with salt in stock?”  

He’s soaked from the rain, and you feel guilty for being all cozied up on the couch while he’s been running around the city. Maybe it’s irrational, but you feel sort of like you should have been stressed out and cold all night, too. In solidarity. 

“May didn’t have salt?” you guess as Peter opens the fridge, stooping low to peer inside. 

“You should see her pantry, babe. It’s like everything either expired at the turn of the century or got bugs in it. Hey, did you make anything for dinner?” 

“No.” You hesitate. “You told me you wanted to eat at May’s, so I had the leftovers from last night.” 

“Shit.” He closes the fridge, resting his forehead on the door. “You’re right. I totally forgot, I only made enough for her.” 

“I’ll make something now.” You stand. Peter gives you a look that conveys both apology and gratitude as you join him in your small kitchen. “You feel like pasta?” 

“Thank you,” he says, kissing the top of your head lightly. 

“Course,” you murmur. Really, it feels like the least you can do. “Would you mind chopping up some basil?” 

“For my own dinner?” Peter teases. The levity in his voice is obviously forced, and the air between you heavies as he realizes you’ve heard it too. 

You almost don’t want to ask, but you do want to be a supportive girlfriend. You can lend him a compassionate ear. “How was work today?” 

He sighs, grabbing the cutting board from a cabinet near your feet and shutting the door with perhaps a tad too much force. 

“It was…ahh.” He scrubs a hand through his hair, stooping again into the white fridge light to find the basil. It casts dark shadows underneath his eyes. “You’ve gotta be sick of hearing about this.” 

“It’s okay. Unless you don’t feel like talking about it.” 

“No, it’s just, how do they expect us to stick to their tight schedule when half of my lab is being pulled away to other projects all the time?” Peter’s knife slices through the basil, hitting the cutting board with a sharp thunk. “Today, we were down one intern who caught the stomach flu, and it set us way back. One intern shouldn’t be that crucial to a big project like this!” 

You hum, ignoring the way the back of your neck prickles. The tension emanating from Peter is completely valid, your reaction a bothersome, purposeless souvenir from an old life. You find yourself staring into the pot of water and waiting for it to boil. 

“And it’s not like it’s anyone’s fault, but all the rest of us are working extra hours to try and get this done in time.” 

Small bubbles in the bottom of the pot, rising tentatively to the surface. Peter’s knife thunks a quickening rhythm on the cutting board. 

“If they’d given us the money we asked for, we could have hired more people, been working with better equipment, but instead—” The water starts to rumble, steam warming your face. It’s thick in your throat. “—it’s like we don’t even work for a top-notch lab. Like, do they think we really believe they don’t have any resources to spare?”

Peter’s voice is rising, irritation sharpening his words. You reach to turn down the stove when big bubbles reach the surface, splattering hot onto your wrist. You ignore the sting. 

“My boss keeps talking about how important this presentation is,” Peter goes on, opening the cabinet next to your head and reaching inside, “but if it were really important, he’d have—” He slams the cabinet door. 

You both freeze. 

To anyone else, it would look like nothing—the way your expression stays perfectly still, your muscles stiffening just slightly, the invisible pause in your heartbeat. But Peter knows you. 

“Sorry.” He sounds as breathless as you feel. “I’m sorry. You okay?” 

“Mhm.” Despite your best intentions, your voice comes out pitchy. You can’t make yourself move in a way that feels natural, so you stay not moving at all. Steam wafting warm up onto your face. 

“I’m sorry, sweetheart,” Peter says, tone softer than you’ve heard it in days. “I shouldn’t have—I didn’t mean to yell.” The roiling pot has calmed to a gurgle. You can see him swallow in your peripheral vision. “Can you look at me?” 

You take in what you hope is a subtle breath, turning to your boyfriend with a wan smile. “Sorry,” you manage. “I don’t know why I did that.” 

“It’s okay,” he says, brows bunched in the middle. Brown eyes like a puppy’s. 

He shifts his arms, a question, and you step into them. You do it more for him than for you, but the second Peter’s arms wrap around your back the last of the tension shudders out of you. You hug him back, rubbing between his shoulder blades reassuringly. 

“I scared you?” he asks, still in that soft voice like he’s afraid of startling you. It’s not really a question. “I’m sorry, baby. I didn’t mean to get so mad.” 

“You’re allowed to be mad,” you argue weakly. There’s an embarrassing blockage in your throat. “It’s not your fault if I freak out, you should still be allowed to vent.” 

“No, but I know how you are.” Peter squeezes your shoulders. “I can vent without slamming things. It’s not nice.” 

You don’t have much of an argument for that. Still, “You really shouldn’t be the one comforting me right now,” you point out. 

A light hum. “Says who? I’m feeling a lot better already.” His hand climbs up to cup the back of your neck, his face turning down so his lips rest on your head. “Should’a just gone straight for the hug when I got home. Might have saved us both a lot of ranting.” 

You push your face into his sweatshirt, mindless of its dampness. He smells like rainwater. You don’t know how you could ever have thought, even for a second, that someone like this could be capable of hurting you. 

“I’ll make a note of that,” you murmur. 

“Yeah, please do,” Peter teases, pressing a kiss to your head. He pulls away and sets two still-chilled hands on your face. “Are you really okay?” he asks sincerely. “I know how scared you get, sweetheart. I’m so sorry I did that to you.” 

“You didn’t mean to,” you tell him, “and it wouldn’t be your fault anyways. I’m really okay.” 

Your boyfriend nods, but he still looks troubled. “Another hug for good measure?” 

“For you or for me?” 

A corner of his mouth kicks up. “Does it matter?” 

It doesn’t really.

[seeingivy]

water lillies

ryomen sukuna x f!reader

**part of my best friend's older brother fic

previous part linked here

an: two chapters back to back. also the last one :'(

--

sukuna realizes that repetitive phrases help him in the year that follows. that no matter how dangerous it feels, the feeling of hope is one that he has to keep in his chest, regardless of his track record of horrendously horrible bad luck. 

he’s not going to die tomorrow. yuuji’s perfectly healthy. he’s going to replace the plastic finger on your ring with a real one someday. you’re all going to live very long lives. 

there’s a nervous anticipation, an excited one simmering in his chest, as picks up the little tray of drinks – two strawberry matchas, an iced coffee, and a scone – as he takes it back to the table, where the group of them are waiting. 

“what took you so long?” sammy asks. 

“you’re so impatient.” sukuna responds, handing the drinks over to the moms and sammy, before splitting his scone in half and handing it over to yuuji. 

“i’m working on that.” sammy grates, giving him an irritated look. 

sukuna smiles. 

sammy was working on that, after he had very graciously given her the number to his therapist after she called him crying asking for it. 

it seemed that sammy had one too many fights with you, hurt mai one too many times, and realized that she was finally ready to let go of lifetime of hurt that she had accrued. anger issues, impatience, and the insurmountable amount of aching that always seemed to take residence in her chest was on its way out. 

with his help. and with yours, even if you didn’t know about it entirely. 

“wait, where’s y/n?” yuuji asks. 

sukuna smiles. 

“she has class.” 

“oh.” yuuji responds. 

sukuna watches as the confusion contorts in his face, albeit, the strange nature of the gathering catching him off guard. both of the moms, sammy, and yuuji were called here for an early morning rendezvous at what might be the only good cafe in their town – play coffee. 

and sukuna would have waited to schedule this for when you were free, if he didn't have something important to ask all of them. a question that you couldn’t necessarily be present for. 

“okay. i’m not treating you all to coffee for no reason.” sukuna states. 

“i fucking told you. he would never be this nice.” sammy whispers over to yuuji, the two of them nodding at one another. 

“you’re so kind, sammy. you have such a way with words.” sukuna deadpans. 

“i live to please.” she resopnds. 

“is everything okay?” mrs. itadori asks. 

sukuna smiles, before reaching over to squeeze her open hand. 

three months prior, his mom was the last person on the very long list of people that he deserved an explanation too. even more than deserved an explanation – but another person who just deserved to know why he left, what he had been through. 

satoru and suguru had taken it really well, satoru offering him one second of seriousness to very earnestly tell him that he was very happy that sukuna had stayed long enough for the two of them to become friends. nanami had shared his own experiences – the two of them being intrinsically closer than before from their shared past – and shoko responded by giving him gummy bears and a hug, which meant more to him than she could really understand. 

it shattered lots of things for yuuji, something that he felt insanely guilty about – for not catching on to all of it sooner. but sukuna could also tell that it had done something for the two of them, to talk about something, whatever it was that they went through together as they were kids, and it only made him love him more. 

and his mom. for the first time, after a very earnest scolding about parenting and responsibility from your mom, was worried about him. he found it a little bit overbearing at times, the way she would call and remind him at night that she loved him very much and that he was her entire world – but the thought was there. and on the days that he found it hard to quiet the voices in his head, it really did make all the difference. 

to hear you remind him. and his mom and yuuji, sammy and everyone else in between. 

“it’s great. i just have to ask for your permission for something, that’s all.” sukuna murmurs. 

sukuna watches their faces drop. he realizes after the fact that it was a bad choice of words – especially for his mom – when they were the exact ones that he used before he left for europe. 

“i’m not moving.” sukuna clarifies. 

“oh thank god.” his mom responds, dramatically pressing her hand to her chest as he rolls her eyes. 

he looks over at the four of them, a simmering warmth in his eyes, as he takes in the looks on their faces. and it seems that in his delay, the most perceptive of the group, has figured out what’s happening all too fast. 

“oh my god. you’re going to do it, aren’t you?” your mom murmurs. 

“what?” sammy asks. 

“you…you’re going to propose?” she asks. 

“what? you’re going to propose? to y/n?” yuuji asks, his voice almost frantic. 

“YOU GUYS ARE GETTING MARRIED?”  his mom squeals, so loud that it earns her a wary look from everyone else in the store. 

sukuna winces as he lifts his hands, beckoning for the group of them to lower their voices, as he reaches into his pocket and places the little green box at the center of the table. sammy’s the first to snatch it, eyes wide and filled with tears as she opens it up, to the little circular cut diamond, set into the golden band that he had picked out almost a year prior – the second you got home from the trip he went on for his birthday.  

he had been holding on to it for a better part of the year. and it was finally time to use it. he was paranoid that he would never get to replace the plastic ring that he gave you, so he figured that he’d buy the real one as soon as he could – just as another solace to himself that he would actually get to do it. 

“wait. you’re really going to propose to her?” sammy whispers. 

“i am. with all of your permission, of course.” sukuna states.  

he watches as they all give him bright smiles, before reaching forward and placing their hands on his. 

“oh, sukuna. of course, you can marry my daughter.” your mom responds, giving him a bright smile 

“holy shit. you’re actually going to be my brother.” sammy states. 

“that’s if y/n says yes.” mrs. itadori states. 

sukuna gives her a glare. 

“what a vote of confidence, mom.” sukuna deadpans. 

“they already wear those plastic rings all the time. they literally think they’re already married in their heads. don’t be annoying, mom.” yuuji responds, huffing an irritated sigh at her as she rolls her eyes back. 

sukuna takes that as a vote for yes. 

“i’m obviously joking. the two of you have no sense of humor.” mrs. itadori responds. 

sukuna turns his head to the side, eyes expectant as he waits for his mom to give a proper response, noting that phenomenon – of getting so emotional that the feelings get crumpled up in your throat is one that he gets from his mom – as she reaches forward, a warm hand on his shoulder as she squeezes. 

“this is all i’ve ever wanted for you. not only because she’s my best friends daughter, but because…well, it’s all you deserve, my sweet boy.” she murmurs. 

he watches as him mom turns her head to the side, shooting an excited smile to your mom, as he notes that the wedding gears are probably turning in both of their heads just from that shared glance. 

“i’ll need a favor from all of you. two from yuuji and sammy.” sukuna states. 

sukuna smiles, before pulling out the little envelope in his pocket, the four of them giving him weary eyes as he opens it up. 

“whatever you need, son.” your mom responds. 

sukuna memorizes that line – the way that she said it – and commits it to memory. 

“you’ll all have to meet us in france first.” 

--

you and yuuji accompany megumi to the tattoo parlor as he gets his first set of ink. it’s a special design that yuuji drew out for him, a set of constellations that the two of them had charted together on one of their first dates together. 

the tattoo parlor still smells the same as you remember it, bright designs printed on the wall and neon lights, as you take in the little room – the magnets on the fridge and the little frames on toji’s desk. you note that there’s a picture that you took a few months prior, of tsumiki and megumi standing next to him. 

“hi toji.” 

you watch as he looks up from his little work station, his tools and guns meticulously organized, as he taps the seat in the middle, giving megumi a bright smile. 

“right here, kid.” 

after the funeral, you had finally found the time to reconcile with megumi about what happened on your birthday. the two of you got dangerously drunk, talking about deadbeat dads and everything in between, before yuuji and sukuna had to drag you out of there on your ass. 

about how your dad forgot you. about how megumi had never talked to his own. about how when they both left, how your moms spoke so little of them that you almost felt like they were ghosts of nothing. and that on most nights, you were filled with such a deep curiosity – of who they were, of what could have been. 

when yuuji dragged the two of you out of there, he had realized how much he had probably annoyed sukuna on the nights that he asked him to do that. 

but it seems that in the horror stories that you had shared with megumi, he realized that he was left with an agonizing amount of questions about his own father that he couldn't ignore. and one day on a whim – he had marched to the tattoo parlor all on his own and asked all of them, basically till toji was free of every answer that he could possibly give. 

and megumi realizded that there was more to the entire situation that met the eye. that there were things his mom had purposely omitted, for reasons he could understand but not get behind. and weirdly enough, by some twist of fate, was now going to reconcile with his own father. 

you were more than supportive. only because whatever strange fatherly advice of figure toji was trying to be for megumi, he was also trying to do for yuuji as well. it filled you with an almost insane amount of joy, that toji was so approving of yuuji, that he thought the two of them were meant to be together. 

and yuuji deserved that – someone who wanted to be his father. that was proud and happy for him for who he chose to love. that liked him just as he was. 

“you ready, megs?” toji asks. 

“yeah. this is the design.” meugmi responds, handing him over the little half sheet that yuuji had drawn out, as toji nods. 

you take toji’s side as he starts to stencil in the little design at his little workstation, yuuji leaning on the side of the little chair as him and megumi talk in hushed tones. 

“hi toji.” 

he glares at you. 

“do i know you?” he asks. 

you roll your eyes, slightly shoving him in the side, as you lean forward, watching him stencil the little design with his purple marker. 

“you’re hilarious, toji.” 

“i’m a part time comedian. i take tips.” 

you fish into your purse, reaching for one of the coins in there, and throw it onto the little tin working space. 

“you’re so generous!” he deadpans. 

“I live to please.” you joke. 

toji smiles, averting his eyes as you follow his gaze. he’s staring at megumi and yuuji, the two of them with their hands locked into together and laughing under their breaths. and you smile, only for toji to glare at the sweet look you’re giving him. 

while he’s just as much of a sap as sukuna, he hates to be up front about it. especially when it comes o you, because you always feel the need to make a comment about it to him. half because you want him to know that you appreciate what he’s doing for both of them. and because it’s really fun to irritate him. 

you imagine this is how satoru feels when he annoys sukuna. 

“shut up.” 

“i didn’t say anything.” you respond. 

“you were saying it with your face.” 

“you’re projecting!” 

toji glares, sketching the shading on the little constellation, as he heaves a sigh. 

“never did thank you, you know.” 

“for?” 

“dunno. telling him about your shit dad. he never would have come here if he didn’t.” 

“well, i for one, love to tell people about my shit dad. it makes for a funny story.” 

toji smiles. 

“he really didn’t recognize ya?” 

you shake your head. 

“he thought i was sukuna’s girlfriend from europe.” you state. 

“do you want me to kill him?” toji asks. 

you laugh. 

“that’s okay. yuuji punched him for me.” 

“eh? cupcake over there? there’s no way” 

you grin. toji very lovingly calls yuuji cupcake – only because the first time yuuji met him, he decided to bring a box of cupcakes that he consequently dropped on the sidewalk before he could even make it to toji’s apartment. 

“that’s right.” 

“no shit. he doesn’t have it in him. he’s so….sunshine and rainbows. like you.” 

“had a full bruised hand and everything! you’re forgetting that he’s sukuna’s brother.” 

“that’s fair.” toji states. 

there’s a pause. 

“speaking of, how is he?” 

“sukuna?” 

toji nods. 

“he’s okay. doing good, i think. i mean, he definitely has days where he’s…where it’s harder than others. but i’m glad that he trying to work on it now, at least try to be a little bit more open about it.” you state. 

“you know, he came into my shop, a shitty little angry sixteen year old begging me to give him a tattoo.” 

“and you broke the law and gave one to him.” you state. 

“yes. but only because at the time, i could…i could tell that he needed that. and i talked to him about stuff here and there, and i sat there and thought about how if my kid was feeling like this, i’d give them that so they wouldn’t do something more drastic. hurt themselves or something, ya know?” 

you frown. 

“yeah.” 

“and well, it’s fucking great. the fucking idiot walks in here smiling all the time. tells you all his weird shit even though he fucking hates doing it, or at least at the time, he did. he even seems more lively or younger or some shit compared to then. whatever it was that was wearing him down back then has long left him. so don’t worry about him too much? that one’s a fighter.” toji states. 

you smile, your heart thumping in your chest. 

“yeah. yeah, he is.” you respond. 

toji gives you a smile, tilting his head to the side as he beckons for you to join him at his megumi’s side. 

--

sukuna’s voice is muffled against your neck, lips warm on your skin, as he whispers. you’re eying the dresses that you have left – a flowery pink pattern and the white silk dress that sammy had picked out with you weeks prior. 

“wear that one.” 

“what?” 

“the white one. the one with the lace shit, that’s long. i want you to wear that one.” sukuna states. 

you frown. 

“i was saving that one.” 

“for?” sukuna grins. 

when sukuna brings you to france, you know that he’s going to propose to you. because on one of the last days of your trip, he’s taking you to the musée de l’orangerie, where monet’s water lilies are. and you know that true to his word, he’s going to propose there, just like he promised you almost a year ago in that dirty tattoo parlor. 

but you can’t say it forthright. that you’re saving the pretty white dress you have for the day that he’s going to propose. because it’s presumptuous to say he's going to propose, and knowing him, the element of surprise is something that he would have wanted maintained. 

but that doesn’t mean that sukuna doesn’t try to goad it out of you. he hints at it all the time – asking you why you save the dress for the end of the trip, why you’re saving some of your better jewelry for the last days, asking why you wanted to get your nails touched up towards the middle of the trip. 

it’s thin ice that the two of you walk on, that neither of you acknowledge. it’s what makes it exciting. 

“wear this one today, okay?” 

you frown, before scaling away to your suitcases, eyeing the dresses that are left in the bag

“wait but…” 

“you’re wearing the white.” sukuna demands. 

“i want to…” 

“wear the white. trust me, you’ll want to wear it today.” sukuna whispers, leaning over the little distance between the two of you, as he offers you a wink. 

you pause, testing the waters. 

“but…we’re going to giverny today.” 

“that’s right.” 

the water lilies are in paris. he can’t be proposing today. 

“you want me to wear this dress…this white dress…to giverny.” 

sukuna grins. 

“yes. the pink one is better for paris. you know i love pink.” 

you sigh, looking down at the fabric. he did have a thing for you in pink. you give in, putting together the outfit – the white dress, the mary jane shoes that sukuna had picked out for you, and a little pearl clip to secure your hair back. 

sukuna’s taking some extreme lengths – pressing his head in between your legs to buckle your shoes, attentively putting the clip in your hair, and pressing soft featherlike kisses to basically any patch of skin that you can find. 

“you’re in a mood today.” 

“i’m just really excited for giverny.” 

you understand the excitement once you get there. giverny’s the smallest little village in the north of france, a little bit of an hour away from where the two of you were staying, and is filled with the brightest, most beautiful flowers that you’ve ever seen in your life. 

you get into town in the early hours of the morning, the two of you giving each other excited smiles as you set out to the little town. the two of you eat breakfast together in the smallest bed and breakfast, sukuna takes an obscene amount of pictures, and you buy a little charm for your bracelet. 

sukuna gets uncharacteristically quiet, a light pink tinge on his cheeks, as he leads you down a winding road, unti you end up at a little house at the end of the way. it’s magnificent – a few people teetering in and out of the doors – as you eye the brick walls and the green window panes. there’s bright pink flowers at the front, muted purples and greens all around, as you look over at him, taken aback by the fact that he’s already looking at you. 

“sukuna?” 

“this is why we’re in giverny.” he murmurs, lightly pulling at your wrist as he takes you in through the middle of the house, offering a spare glance to the people milling around, and taking you through the back. 

his hand is warm in yours as you walk out to the little backyard, a green bridge across the little pools of water, with willowing trees dousing the entire area in the shade of the calm sun. he leads you right to the center of the bridge, the two of you leaning your chins on the tops of your hands as you look down at the water, your little reflections staring back at you. 

“did you notice what’s in the water?” 

you look around, feeling your heart drop in your chest, at the water lilies almost decorating the entire pond – pink flowers with lily pads of green – as you widen your eyes, the wetness glassing over your eyes as you look over at sukuna, who has the softest smile on his face. 

“i know that i’d lost the element of surprise when i told you that i wanted to propose to you at the water lilies in the musée de l’orangerie. i figured the next best thing was taking you to the real water lilies that the painting was based off of.”  

“wait. wait, this is…” 

“claude monet’s house. his garden, more specifically, and the real water lilies from the painting.” 

you pause.

“you’re going to propose.” you state. 

sukuna shakes his head. 

“not exactly.”

you feel your heart drop.

“what?” 

“i’m going to marry you.” 

you feel your throat dry. and your head spin. and your heart pounding in your chest – because surely, he can’t be serious. 

“sukuna?” you whisper. 

he laughs. 

“don’t freak out. but i’m going to marry you.” he repeats, the tenor in his voice so calm that it nearly freaks you out. 

you reach forward, hands on his shoulders as you squeeze hard, the wetness pouring onto your cheeks as you lean forward, smiling. 

“i would love to marry you. i’d do it right now but..but we can’t just..our moms, your outfit and i…” 

sukuna stops you mid sentence. 

“your sister and my brother are here with our moms. they’re actually watching from that bush if you look back.” 

you turn around, following the direction of sukuna’s finger, as he leans forward, wrapping his arms around your waist and his voice like honey in your ear as he continues. you see four sets of eyes – and yuuji giving you an embarrassingly wild wave – as sammy yanks him back down. 

“sammy has a veil. she said it’ll hook into the pearl clip that she gifted you. my mom picked wedding rings for us. your mom got ordained. and yuuji decided that he’s going to be the best man and the man of honor for both of us. your mom also has that weird flower shit for me that’s supposed to go on my jacket.” 

“wait…wait you really…” 

“speaking of, as much as i like this plastic ring…” 

sukuna uses his hands to spin you around, until you’re facing him this time, hands pressed against his chest as you look up at him. 

“i told you that i was going to give you a real one.” 

you watch as he reaches into his pocket, plucking the perfect little ring out of the box, as he reaches forward, slipping the plastic green one off of your hand and replacing it with the sparking diamond. the former goes into the depths of his pocket, but you’re too preoccupied with the one he’s just given you. 

you look down at it, at the way it glints in the sun, before looking back up at him, at the smile on his face as he expectantly waits for a response – to everything he’s just laid out in front of you. 

“you’re really doing this? you’re really going to marry me right here?” 

“if you let me.” sukuna responds. 

he pauses, before taking his hands in yours, eyeing and fiddling with the newly replaced ring on your finger before looking back up at you, and smiling. 

“i can’t wait any longer. i did all of this, flew our parents out and our siblings, and made sammy buy you this perfect, beautiful dress because i have to marry you right now. and it’s not because i’m paranoid or because i’m scared you’re going to die on me, but because you’re the love of my life. i want our love to be forever. i know you’re going to live to tomorrow and i am too – but it’s still not good enough for me that we’re not tied together in all the ways people can be tied together.” 

you smile. 

“i just want you to be my wife. you’ve been my everything since forever and i need everyone to know that. my tax forms, the government – i need it written in paper, i need there to be real living proof.” 

you laugh. 

“me too.” you murmur. 

“yeah?” 

“yeah. yeah, i need someone to shout it from the rooftops. i want to send it to the fucking newspaper back home just so everyone knows that you married me and i married you. and i really do want to do it right now.” 

and you watch as he grins – at what may be his first confirmation that everything he planned out is going to come to fruition right now, because you’re going to marry him. and he leans forward, pressing a kiss to your cheeks, hands frantic around your neck and pulling you closer as you lean back, glaring at him. 

“save that for the wedding.” 

“i needed one last kiss from you as my girlfriend.” 

“well, i think that was technically my first kiss as your fiancee? your last kiss with me as your girlfriend was the one this morning. it tasted like french toast.” you state.

he shakes his head. 

“okay, go away now. let sammy put your veil on. and walk back down with her and yuuji, okay?” 

you give him a nod, quickly shuffling to the little bush where all four of them are crouched, nervous eyes as you bend down, giving all of them a smile. 

“are we getting married?” your mom asks. 

“we’re getting married.” you confirm. 

the all cheer, yuuji leaning forward to press a kiss to your head, as you feel the warmth bloom under your cheeks, and they all start nervously panting. your mom starts rehearsing the little lines that she has to say, cards pressed in her hands, as sukuna’s mom pulls out the little box that the rings are in. the two of them nurse sukuna’s boutonniere in their hands, messing with the pin at the back and making sure it’s in place. 

“okay, turn around, i’m putting the veil on. mom, go stand out there with sukuna he looks like a fucking idiot standing there alone. yuuji and i will walk her down.” sammy mutters. 

the two of them nod, quickly running out – but not before giving you a warm kiss on the cheek – as you watch both of them give sukuna a long hug, biting so hard on your cheek that you draw blood when sukuna leans forward, wiping a tear away from your mom’s face. 

you hear a little clicking noise, as sammy starts draping the little frilly veil over your shoulders, her eyes in a deep attentiveness as she comes around, fixing the stray hairs on your forehead and the straps of your dress with frantic hands. and you can’t help but lean forward, wet tears in your eyes, as you burrow your chin into the crook of her shoulder, and squeeze hard. 

“you’re going to walk me down the aisle?” you ask. 

you lean back, sammy giving you a sweet smile before reaching up and cupping the side of your face. 

“i helped you take your first steps. s’only fitting, right?” 

“yeah.” you whisper. 

“and we can’t do it without him either, of course. naturally, you’re going to be attached at the hip until the end.” sammy mutters. 

and you turn to your left, where yuuji’s uncharacteristically quiet at your side with wide eyes, hands nervously fidgeting in his pockets at his side as you shoot him a warning glance. 

“you okay?” 

“i was friends with you when you literally had no fucking teeth. and now you’re just getting married. to my brother.” 

you smile. 

“do you have a problem with that?” 

yuuji rolls his eyes. 

“i don’t like to share.” 

and he pauses, before leaning forward, his hands featherlike on your shoulder. 

“i know this is really weird, but i…i feel like i’m giving you away.” yuuji mumbles. 

you laugh. 

“i feel like you’re giving me away too. you…you’ve been the only person around in my life, in the same way, basically forever. you’re really the only person whose approval matters to me.” 

he smiles. 

“we’ve both spent a good amount of our lives just with each other. but i’m glad that you’ve opened up space for a few more. and i have to. and for sukuna of all people, who fucking adores you. i’m half mad i didn’t think of it myself earlier, but you’re perfect for each other.” 

“thank you, yuuji.” 

“and this is the perfect scheme. you’re going to be my sister. we can upgrade the term soulmate to soul sister now.” 

“deal.” you whisper.

you both laugh, as yuuji holds his hand out to you, which you tuck your hand into before pressing a kiss to his cheek. the two of them look to you for confirmation, before you leave your little spot behind the bush, your little heels clicking against the wood of the bridge, as sukuna stands in between your moms, a hand pressed to his chest, and he cries freely.

his mom hands you the rings, two simple golden bands. and your mom seals the words, that tie you together forever.

--

four days later, you finally do make it to musée de l’orangerie. sukuna drags you towards the back – to the painting from the blue and purple background that’s been on your computer for years – as you both tangle your arms together, fingers adored with your newly minted rings. 

it feels dangerously full circle to sukuna. 

that he had visited years prior, alone with headphones shoved into his ears, and stood there alone thinking about you. about how he wanted to live, about how he was going to move past everything that had happened to him – and at the very least, return to japan someday and see you again. 

and he stood there, wondering what you would be like. if you liked the same music, if you watched the same shows. if you still ate cinnamon raisin french toast and wore ribbons in your hair. 

and at that point, he knew he wasn’t going to return to japan for another few years, but when he did – he was at the very least, going to be determined to find the answers, in the most natural way he could. that somehow, the two of you would end up near each other, at the same restaurant or at the same bar, and he’d get to ask. 

“what are you thinking about?”  you whisper. 

sukuna looks down, at your head resting against his shoulder, and leans forward, pressing an absentminded kiss to your forehead. 

“that this time around, you’re standing here with me.” 

that he got to put a ring on your finger. that he knows you don’t listen to the same type of music as him but you do have the same taste in shows – even if you have different favorite seasons. you like french toast when he makes it and think the ribbons fall better when he places them in your hairband for you. 

you love him. and he loves you back.

--

an: a very long love letter to this beloved fic. this has been six months of one of the sweetest things i've ever written. this fic is literally so special to me for so many reasons bc it's pushed me so many ways in figuring out how I like to write and express my feelings -- and i've put so much of myself and my real struggles of good old life into it. needless to say that all of the sweet comments and love that i've received on this have every bit worth it. this goofy little one shot took a life of it's own from all the love you've all given me on it and i'm so glad we ended up here together 💌 (and I promise, i'll actually write dream girl actor sukuna now, I just had to finish this one up properly)

and a beloved kiss to my lovely @babiemay who enabled this original brain rot in the first place. you are a star.

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[rnelodyy]

The Owl House And Restorative Justice

At the end of Season 1 of The Owl House, it is revealed that Lilith, the main overarching antagonist of that season, was the one to curse her sister Eda, one of the protagonists, to win a tournament when they were teenagers. This information causes Eda to fly into a screaming rage and attack Lilith, and understandably so.

Eda’s curse is essentially a chronic illness, one that, in Eda’s own words, has ruined her life, being the reason she’s considered a social outcast and why, before meeting King and Luz, she hadn’t gotten close to anyone in years. In season 2, it’s revealed that the curse is why she pushed away her partner Raine to the point that they broke it off with her, and that during a particularly bad flareup, she accidentally maimed her own father, leaving him half blind and with permanent nerve damage to his hands, making him unable to continue working as a Palisman carver. The curse has ruled Eda’s life for decades now, so to Eda, this is the ultimate betrayal.

In the first episode of Season 2, Lilith has defected from the Emperor’s Coven, split the curse between Eda and herself to mitigate the symptoms for her sister, and has moved in with Eda at the Owl House. While Lilith herself still feels guilty and feels she has to make it up to Eda, everyone else, Eda included, has seemingly either forgiven her or chosen to look past it. Eda even makes fun of her for feeling bad about cursing her, and Lilith’s guilt is seemingly absent for the rest of the series. 

The response to this was… Less than stellar, shall we say. A lot of people were angry, saying Lilith got away with her crimes without even a slap on the wrist, and that Eda’s forgiveness of her was far too sudden.

This isn’t the first time we’ve seen this kind of critique. Amity spent years bullying Willow after her parents forced her to break off their friendship, and when she began trying to mend that relationship, the response from fans was that Willow should have been a lot more angry at Amity, and that they went back to being besties far too soon. I’ve even seen this criticism leveled at Hunter for the things he did while working for Belos, at Vee for impersonating Luz for months to trick her mother, and at Luz for hiding the fact that she helped Philip find the Collector from her friends. And it does seem strange for the show to keep tripping on this same point again and again.

Except, it’s not really. Because I think that, when viewing this show from a different angle, those supposed flaws are actually symptoms of something very important to understand – The Owl House operates on a system of crime and punishment that is very different from our world’s.

More specifically, our world mostly utilizes retributive justice. The world of The Owl House utilizes restorative justice.

So first, what do those terms mean? Broadly, they’re two different forms of handling interpersonal disputes, or dealing with crime. 

Retributive justice is the one our current justice system uses, where the focus is primarily on punishing the perpetrator. Retributive justice can mean detention, suspension, expulsion, jail time, monetary fines, some kinds of community service, exile, or in more severe cases, corporal punishment or the death penalty. It’s the lens most people view the world through, where if someone hurts you, hurting them back is the correct response.

Restorative justice is a very different approach, where you instead focus on helping the victim recover from what happened, and rehabilitating the perpetrator to prevent this from happening again. Restorative justice can look like verbal or written apologies, monetary compensation for costs and trauma, therapy for both victim and perpetrator, education for the perpetrator, mediation between victim and perpetrator, a restraining order, etc. 

When viewed through a retributive lens, The Owl House lets its characters get away with a lot of shit. Lilith cursing Eda, Hunter rounding up Palismen knowing they’ll be killed, Amity tormenting Willow for years, it’s all stuff that, in a retributive environment, they should be punished for, and they’re just not. Eda is only genuinely angry at Lilith for two scenes, Amity and Willow fix their relationship very quickly once Amity starts making amends, and Hunter isn’t punished at all. 

However, I believe the story of The Owl House is best viewed not through a retributive lens, but through a restorative lens.

Let’s look at the Lilith-example again. Lilith’s offense was cursing Eda, which she did because she wanted to win a spot in the Emperor’s Coven. Knowing Eda was better than her, she cast a curse on her, thinking it would only last for a day. But when the time came, Eda forfeited the match, soon after which she transformed into the Owl Beast and was pelted with rocks until she ran. The curse turned out to be very permanent, and Lilith spent the next 20 years trying to fix her mistake by working for Belos to try to capture Eda, since he promised to heal her curse. 

However, when she finally succeeded, Belos went back on his promise. Instead of healing Eda, he ordered her to be publicly executed. When Lilith protested, Belos essentially told her to shut up, that it was the Titan’s will, and left her there. 

So, having realized her method of fixing her mistake has gone real bad, Lilith sneaks down to the Conformatorium to free Eda herself, but arrives too late and finds Luz instead. After a brief fight they end up teaming up, and Lilith leads Luz to the elevator, but they are captured by Belos and Lilith is thrown into the cage with Eda. There, she restores Eda’s partially petrified body, and after fleeing with her, Luz and King, uses a spell to split Eda’s curse evenly between their two bodies.

From a restorative justice point of view, Lilith has done pretty much everything she reasonably could do to fix things. She’s denounced the Emperor’s Coven, returned Owlbert to Luz, helped Luz find the elevator to the execution platform, saved Eda from petrification, apologized to Eda, and while there’s no way for her to cure Eda’s curse entirely, she took on half of the curse at great expense to her own health, in order to ease Eda’s symptoms. 

Eda isn’t angry anymore because in her eyes, Lilith has already fixed things with her. Punishing her more at this point is pointless. What more could Lilith do, really? What other lessons could she learn? The only thing that punishment would bring at this point would be more suffering. 

Let’s look at another example: Amity and Willow.

Amity’s offense was breaking off her friendship with Willow because she was a late-bloomer, bullying her for years, and allowing her friends to do so too. Willow is left with horrible self-esteem issues because of this, and combined with her failing grades, turned her into a horribly shy and withdrawn wallflower (no pun intended). After she’s moved to the plant track she starts actually getting better, but Amity and Boscha especially continue to torment her. While Amity’s bullying of Willow does peter out over time, Willow is clearly still extremely resentful of her. In an attempt to make Willow forget their friendship, Amity accidentally sets most of Willow’s memories on fire, leaving her confused, amnesiac, and unable to grasp basic concepts like that chairs are for sitting in.

Luz pushed Amity into fixing Willow’s brain by going into her mind together and piecing her memories back together. There, the Inner Willow revealed what happened to Luz and the audience.

At this point, Amity shows her that her parents were actually the ones who forced her to end the friendship because they didn’t think Willow was a suitably powerful or influential friend, threatening to make sure Willow would never get accepted into Hexside if Amity didn’t force her to leave. Amity then apologizes to Willow for going along with it, and for the bullying, and vows to make sure her friends never mess with Willow again. 

Willow accepts her apology, but also makes it clear that, while it’s a start, she’s not yet ready to accept Amity in her life again. Restorative justice has not been fully attained, because to Willow, Amity hasn’t fixed everything – Boscha and her squad are still bullying her, and still consider Amity one of them. This changes two episodes later, when Amity tells Boscha to grow the fuck up when she starts bullying Willow again, and joins her and Luz’s Grudgby team despite her personal issues to get Boscha to back off. Willow doesn’t make a grand gesture of forgiveness in this episode, but it is after this point where the two become comfortable around eachother again. 

Did Willow forgive Amity too quickly for years of trauma? Maybe. If she had chosen to continue keeping Amity at a distance I certainly wouldn’t have blamed her. But in the end, Amity fixed the mess she caused as best she could, and has proven herself to want to be a better person, to want to be Willow’s friend again. She worked hard to prove herself to be a person worth trusting, and Willow decided to give that trust a chance again.

And while they did become friends again, that friendship was clearly still affected by what happened, which led to bumps that the two of them had to work through. Like in Labyrinth Runners, where Amity’s overprotectiveness over Willow makes Willow feel like Amity thinks she’s incompetent, and still only sees her as the helpless person she used to be. 

Willow continuing to be mad at Amity and punishing her for what she did wouldn’t be an unreasonable reaction, but it wouldn’t have fixed anything. It would certainly have an impact on Amity, seeing her former best friend rejecting her attempts to make up for what she did, but the hurt on both sides would have continued festering, because deep down, Willow missed Amity too. 

In Hunter’s case, there’s the question of whether he can even be held responsible for his actions. The Palisman-kidnapping in specific was explicitly done under duress – if he failed he would face verbal and physical abuse, and be threatened with his nightmare scenario: getting thrown out of the Emperor’s Coven. 

And that’s not an empty threat either. Hunter has no magic, and Belos has drilled it into him that witches without magic have no future. Without the Emperor’s Coven, his only future prospects would be starving to death on the streets or wasting away in prison. Either way, Hunter would be alone, without family or friends, without a job or job prospects, without anyone to turn to for help. Any child would be terrified of that. Hunter wasn’t always acting on direct orders – in fact he defied direct orders to stay in his room in Eclipse Lake to go look for Titan’s Blood, and then again in Hollow Mind to arrest the rebels. But he made those choices based on the idea that Belos wouldn’t want him if he was a failure, and that he needed a chance to prove that he could still be useful.

And contrary to popular belief, Hunter does know right from wrong. He has a very strong moral compass, he’s just been forced to ignore it in favor of doing whatever the Emperor wants. To shut up that little voice telling him he’s doing the wrong thing, he uses what’s called a thought-terminating cliche, a statement that feels so fundamentally true that the argument need not continue. In Hunter’s case, that statement is “It’s for the greater good.” Sure, kidnapping his new friends and abducting Palismen to feed to the Emperor and threatening someone who’s been nothing but kind to him to take the portal key from her girlfriend and justifying terrorism makes his stomach feel like he swallowed a cactus and saying it out loud makes him sound like a horrible person – but it’s for the greater good. He’s doing it to serve Belos, and Belos knows what’s best. 

So by the time Hunter is out of active danger and able to rest and recover from what happened to him… what would further punishment accomplish? He already knows that he did fucked up shit while working for the EC, and he’s proven time and time again that while he’s not fighting for Belos’s approval, he’s actually a genuinely kind-hearted kid. Punishing him now would likely cause him to react very poorly, because he’s been at the wrong end of that stick so often that he’s developed severe PTSD because of it.

And if you think restorative justice is still in order – Hunter is currently hyperfixated on making sure Belos can never hurt anyone again, and for the long term, he has expressed that he wants to become a Palisman carver when he grows up. While it won’t bring back the Palismen that were killed, it will help the current Palisman population recover and reintroduce Palismen to witches who may have had to give up theirs. 

When viewed through this lens, the writing of The Owl House starts to make more sense. As a show, it is extremely forgiving towards its characters – they’re still held accountable for their actions, but as long as they’re willing to grow and learn and fix the damage they caused, they are very quickly forgiven. 

However, I do understand why these writing choices can be… controversial, so to say. Because it doesn’t feel very satisfying, does it? When someone hurts you on purpose, your first impulse would be to try to hurt them back, that’s just how people work. 

That’s the hardest thing to come to terms with when you become an advocate for prison abolition for example – you’re not just arguing for freeing a guy who got 5 years because a cop found weed in his pockets, you’re arguing for the release, and most importantly, the humanity of some of the most vile, disgusting people this planet has ever produced. Even now, when someone commits a truly awful crime and gets sent to prison for life, my first thought is “Good, I hope they rot in there.” But that’s not justice. That’s just revenge. And revenge is not something we as a society should want to build our justice system on.

It’s not satisfying to see Lilith go from using Luz as a human shield in her fight against Eda to sleeping on the couch in Eda’s house within 2 episodes. It’s not satisfying to see Willow let Amity back into her life when Amity has hurt her so badly before, or to see Hunter become romantically involved with Willow after he literally abducted her the first time they met. But that satisfaction isn’t really the point. Revenge is satisfying in the moment, but an eye for an eye makes the whole world blind, and if someone shows a genuine willingness to change, it’s often better to give them a chance to.

However, my final point is about what happens when this approach fails. Because not everyone is willing to change. Some people, when faced with the consequences of their actions, decide to dig their heels in and refuse to admit fault, or blame the victim(s), or use those same thought-terminating cliches that Hunter used to justify their actions, “I was just following orders” being a big one.

And thus, we come to Belos.

If Belos showed a willingness to change, a genuine one, not an attempt at manipulation, should he be given the chance to? That vengeful part of me is VERY empathetically saying no. But logically, reasonably, he should be given that chance, if only because he’s a human being and no human being deserves to be mistreated. That doesn’t mean his victims are obligated to forgive him or be around him again, in fact I think that, for the sake of Hunter’s mental health, Belos should stay as far away from him as humanly possible. But he should be given the chance to start over, to truly better himself and do something good with the rest of his life.

But Belos isn’t willing to change. 

Belos is a product of a bad environment and grew up with a cult-like mentality and hatred for witches that he had to adopt for his own safety. It’s hard to break out of that mentality, but not impossible. Case in point: Caleb. The tragedy of Belos’s character to me is that he had so many chances to change, so many people to help him make that leap, but all of the people who offered him that help ended up dead by his hands because he couldn’t handle the idea that he may have been wrong.

At this point, Belos is stuck. Changing would mean not only giving up on his life’s work, but acknowledging to himself that everything he’s done, mutilating his body, killing his brother, slaughtering thousands and installing himself as God-Emperor of a population he despises more than anything in order to facilitate a genocide, was completely pointless.

He can’t admit that to himself. Especially the thing about Caleb’s death. He’s sunk-cost-fallacied himself so far into a corner that all he can really do when faced with opposing viewpoints is dig his heels in even deeper and lash out in a rage at anyone who challenges him. Even now, when his body is literally falling apart at the seams, he’s still trying to commit witch-genocide, because it’s all he has. 

Restorative justice doesn’t work in this case, because the perpetrator needs to be receptive to it. Logically you would assume the show would default to retributive justice, and characters like Willow and Camila do take a very vengeful glee in imagining themselves beating the snot out of Belos. But right now, the primary motivation of the Hexsquad and Hunter in particular when it comes to Belos is to end the threat he poses. As long as Belos is alive and free, he will continue to hurt and kill people, and if he can’t be talked down, he needs to be either contained or killed to prevent him from causing more harm.

The Owl House provides, in my opinion, a very nuanced take on restorative justice. It shows how it works in action, how different situations impact what it looks like, and what happens when it’s simply not an option. It’s not the most satisfying story to tell your audience, because when someone hurts our babies we want them to suffer, no matter how sorry they say they are. But in this case, I think that sacrificing that bit of audience comfort is worth it to tell the story like this.

[enchantedflameandflower]

Gavin (Karl Urban) x reader!

Fireside confessions, cuddling and you finally get in those big, strong, muscly, hot arms!

Summary: When you started working at the lumber mill, you couldn't help but instantly fall in lust with the strong, quiet younger brother. But you're determined to keep it professional, until one work trip suddenly changes it all.

co-written with CheshireCatSmile

@kus-babygirl @shirley-girly @jynx15 @everchar-of-the-shire @scraftsku35

@deathlesun @billybutcherxyou @butchers-girl @hippo2211

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direct link to part 1

Part 4

Gavin chuckles affectionately at your ask about dinner and searches through his bag, pulling out some packets with the name of some new hightech backpacking adventure company. "Been wanting to try these for awhile...let's see...would you like the gourmet beef stew or the um...old fashioned chicken and dumplings? Or there's beef lo mein if you're feeling like Chinese...or...turkey chili?" He hands you a couple of the pouches to look at, his strong fingers brushing against yours.

You can’t help grinning. “Actually they all sound good. I’ll do the chicken and dumplings tonight.” He nods and grabs the beef stew for himself, then props them on the fire in a particular way to heat. He sits right next to you and you shift a little so your leg is just pressing against his.

He seems to notice. "The temperature is dropping a lot quicker than I would have figured for this early in the season. Are you gonna be warm enough tonight?" He presses his thigh a little more firmly against yours but when you glance over he’s concentrating on the fire.

But you can feel the heat radiating from him and it’s wonderful. He’s right, though, it is getting cold. “I brought a thermal and an extra sweatshirt, so…I hope so. I mean, I’m sure I’ll be okay. I’ve slept in worse places,” you smile at him.

Gavin turns to look at you, dark eyes swirling with emotions and unanswered questions at your admission. "I'll try to make things as comfy-cozy as I can out here for you,” he gives you a warm look. “After all...you're doin’ me a big favor comin’ with me. Jack and I really need things to fall in line with this for the business and...I really need Jack to know he can count on me." His voice trails off.  "I'm sorry....I didn't mean to...you're just easy to talk to."

“It’s okay.” You want him to be able to talk to you about anything. “I’m really happy to be here, for you and the business. I want you guys to be successful. I believe in what you’re doing, trying to cut responsibly.

“But I think Jack already does know he can count on you,” you add, watching while he takes the pouches out of the fire and sets them to cool in front of you. 

"I hope so. I have a lot to make up for," he says so softly you can barely hear him. He hands you some utensils and opens your packet for you then does the same with his own. He smiles and taps his packet against yours like a toast. "Moment of truth," he chuckles.

After a few bites, what he said niggles in the back of your mind, and you glance over at him. You hope the question isn’t too much, but you truly want to get to know him better. “What really did happen last year? I’ve heard murmurs here and there but everyone is pretty quiet about it. Was there…really a dragon? Why are people upset with you?”

"There was really a dragon,” he answers, meeting your gaze then looking away. “I....well I had some hair-brained get rich quick idea and I went off half-cocked without takin’ anyone's feelings into account. I wouldn't listen to anyone, I was so full of myself... Almost lost the people I care about most in the world and turned something amazing into a nightmare for everyone. I've had a long time to think about it since then. I can't believe how blind I was to everything that really mattered." He shakes his head and pokes the fire with a stick sending a small plume of sparks into the air.

You can feel his mood has plummeted and now you feel guilty for bringing it up. You chew your bottom lip for a minute thinking. You know he can be impatient sometimes, and gets caught up in excitement when he has an idea. Clearly he’s always hoping to prove himself to his older brother, so you can see how he could’ve made a mistake like that. “I’m sorry,” you murmur. “I shouldn’t have said anything. But I think your brother sees how much thought you’ve put into your work since then. He knows how much you care for him.”

“I wonder if my nephew will ever really trust me?” he muses, still staring into the fire. “That little kid has more courage than most of the grown men I hang with." Gavin shakes his head and stares off into the distance for a moment. Then, coming back to himself, he looks at you. "Oh hey, I forgot. I brought some cornbread from the diner."

It’s an obvious shift away from the subject and attempt to lighten the mood, and you’re grateful. He rummages in his pack and pulls out a tin. "Should I warm it a tiny bit?"

“Sure, that sounds really good.” You know which diner he means and it’s the sweet kind of corn bread, almost like a dessert, and you actually love it. “That was the first place I ate when I got this job. A special treat.”

"Yeah, their food is the best." He opens the tin and sits it just so at the edge of the fire. "You know...I think I may have seen you there that evening," he says softly, glancing at you out of the corner of his eye, as though trying to gage your reaction. "It was still pretty warm out and you had that pretty yellow sundress on..."

“Yes that was me,” you blush a little again, but smile. “How embarrassing to be caught taking myself on a date,” you laugh. “Going out all alone.” You take a bite from your chicken dinner then reach for a corner of corn bread, popping it in your mouth.

"Not embarrassing at all,” he grins. “But a sweet, smart, pretty girl like you should never have to go to dinner alone if ya don’t want to. We...um...we may need to fix that." He reaches to break off a little piece of cornbread himself. 

His leg feels warm where it presses against yours. His heat is addicting and you can’t stop yourself from wondering what it would feel like to be wrapped up tight in his arms. Your heart flutters at his compliments. They’re hard to believe but nice to hear. “How would we fix that?” you ask him even though your heart is racing with anxiousness.

"Well...I was thinkin’...you might like to go out to dinner with me sometime. Well...that is...if you wouldn't feel uncomfortable going out with your boss to dinner and...maybe a movie? I mean...I'll understand if you have reservations about… About mixing your work and private life but..."

Your heart flutters wildly again and your smile grows wider. You can’t believe this is actually happening. Even though the entire thing makes you nervous, you can’t help but want it. “I’d really like that a lot, Gavin. If you don’t think Jack would mind.” You finish the last bite and just then a breeze comes through the trees, making them rustle then making you shiver.

He sees you shiver and tosses a little more wood on the fire then scoots over and puts his strong arm around you pulling you into his side. "Definitely going to be cold tonight but I think I have the tent set up nice and cozy so we should be okay."

You almost give a soft little moan when he pulls you close but you manage to stop it. “Th-thank you,” you murmur. It feels so good for him to even care like this, and he feels good against you, but your heart is really racing now. “My um…my last relationship didn’t go well, and it ended really badly so if I seem anxious, that’s why. But I like you, Gavin. I just wanted you to know.”

"I like you too. I want to really spend time getting to know you. We can take it slow...no pressure. I've always rushed headlong into things in the past and...that hasn't really served me well." He pokes at the fire some more with his free hand but keeps his arm firmly around you as the chill settles in a little more a the first stars wink on above the treetops.

The crackling of the fire is soothing and his hand starts to rub your arm idly as he holds you. It’s more comfort than you’ve felt in a really long time. Without you realizing you start to drift off.

What feels like only a moment later, your eyes flutter open and you feel movement and strong arms holding you against a warm solid chest. Is someone carrying you? Then it comes back to you in a flash...you had started to drift off near the fire. Oh my! Was Gavin carrying you ...you startle and a soothing, low male voice is telling you to hush...that everything is okay. Then you feel the fat raindrops on your face...

You blink for a moment then open your eyes all the way and you can just barely see Gavin’s eyes in the darkness as it starts to rain. He crouches down right next to the small tent and carefully sets you slowly on your feet when he sees you’re awake. “Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry Gavin! I didn’t mean to fall asleep like that. You didn’t have to carry me...”

Gavin’s answering smile is so warmly affectionate, you feel like you might just throw yourself at him here and now. "No worries Sleeping Beauty,” he murmurs, his voice husky. “I really didn't mind. I just need to close up the big pack and put it up a tree. I'll be right back. Go ahead and make yourself comfortable and I'll be back in a few minutes. He brushes your hair back from your face gently and looks into your eyes for a moment then turns to take care of the pack.

Next up: A shirt and some jeans are coming off and makin’ out tent style! Let me know if you want a tag! Thank you so so much for reading and for your likes, comments and reblogs, they mean the whole world to me!

Part 5

karl urban masterlist

[mediumgayitalian]

“Will. Hey.” He reaches out when the medic doesn’t react, forcibly stilling his hands. Even then, he can feel the minute twitches, the fighting he’s doing with himself to keep still. “It can wait until tomorrow.”

“They leave tomorrow,” Will stresses, finally pulling his hands free. “The Romans are early risers, Nico, you know better than anyone, I need this done before they —”

He cuts himself off, too invested in the sprawl of paperwork completely covering the nurse’s station. Under his eyes is almost completely bruised black, not unlike the war paint he wore so long ago, and there’s a grey dullness to him. If he stays in one place too long, he sways on his feet.

“I’m fine,” he says, suddenly, as if remembering Nico is there. He pauses briefly to shoot him a small, strained smile, then returns to his frantic sorting. A red thumbprint bleeds onto the corner of the page of one of the files. He doesn’t seem to notice.

Without straying too far, Nico gathers the supplies he needs. He pulls out a tray to grab some antiseptic, swipes a Pac-Man bandaid off a box on the counter. Arms laden with his spoils, he nudges the half-door open with his hip, setting the supplies down when he’s inside the round desk-station.

“Will,” he says quietly, wrapping his hand around his elbow. He jumps.

“I’m — fine.”

“You’re bleeding.”

He blinks, staring down at his hands; brows furrowing as he notices the several scattered paper cuts crossing almost every finger. Many of them are clotted, scabbed over; dried blood streaking between his freckles and swirling around stark white scars.

“Come here.”

Without protest, for once, he does. He sets down the pen clenched in his left thumb and turns to face Nico fully. In the minimal space between them, his hands shake.

“I didn’t notice,” he murmurs, flinching as Nico soaks a cotton pad and presses it to a cut on the inside of his thumb. Nico can’t quite read the expression on his face, although there’s a choked quality to his voice. “I need to — before they —”

“Not everything is your responsibility,” Nico interrupts. He meets Will’s gaze head on, his own gaze steady, heart breaking at the fragility in his ice blue eyes. “Not everything is your responsibility, Will,” he repeats, firmer this time.

Will’s face crumples. “I haven’t slept in five days.”

Nico closes his eyes. “Gods, Will.”

“I’m sorry.”

In moments like these, Nico hates working for his father.

He had left to relative chaos. Relative, meaning in comparison to what the rest of the eight billion people on the planet would consider calm, camp wasn’t it, but by demigod standards it wasn’t too bad. Several Romans, including Reyna and Hazel, were due to arrive the day after he was summoned by his father, which was a bummer, but he had assurance from both of them that they’d stay long enough to see him. And reassurance from his father that the errand wouldn’t be too perilous. And, lastly, a threat (warning out of love, he would say, but Nico knows a threat when he sees one) from Will to take it easy.

He got back to debris and blood and a flurry of stress — a weapons development disaster, he’d been quickly informed. No deaths, at least not yet, but several in critical condition that were quickly approaching it.

And Kayla and Austin, back at school, and Will in the infirmary by himself.

“Will,” he repeats for the third time, a little more urgently this time. He places a gently finger under his chin. “Look at me a second.”

He regrets asking, almost, when Will meets his eyes, although he immediately feels guilty for the thought. The son of Apollo is so rarely vulnerable, stubbornly intent on carrying the burdens he’s stuck with without half a hand of help. It wears on him, and the proof of the weariness hurts Nico somewhere, deep in his soul; he hates bearing witness to it.

Worse, though, is the knowledge that Will is struggling with it himself.

“Everybody critical has been stabilized,” he says firmly. When Will opens his mouth in protest, he adds, “I can feel it, Sunshine, do you trust me?”

“Yes,” he says, immediately. He snaps his jaw shut. “Yes.”

Nico’s own shoulders slump when Will exhales, long and exhausted. “Good. This —” he gestures to the paperwork — “this is secondary, Solace. I don’t care if they want to leave tomorrow. You need rest, and, hell, if they’re that pressed about it, I’ll make them do the fucking paperwork.”

“Please, don’t,” Will says, laughing feebly. He swiped quickly under his eyes, pulling away, and Nico lets him, if only because his small smile seems genuine, if not exhausted. “The idea of that actually makes me want to puke. I hate paperwork, but I hate anyone else doing it more.”

“Right, right.” Nico nudges his shoulder, something like teasing showing in his eyes. “Heaven forbid someone dot their i’s incorrectly.”

“Exactly.” Will looks so serious that Nico stills, trying to figure out just how anal, exactly, his friend is, before his face breaks out into a wide, genuine grin. Nico’s stomach flips. “I’m only teasing, Death Breath. I don’t actually care if people dot their i’s incorrectly. And I would appreciate the help.”

“I feel like it hurt you to say that,” Nico says, once he recovers from the staggering force of one million megawatts of smile power.

“It did.”

“Also, you implied that there genuinely is a wrong way to dot your i’s.”

“…Of course there is.” Will looks at him strangely. “Maybe I’m not the one who’s sleep deprived,” he muses, reminding Nico that oh yeah, dumbass, Will is actually genuinely sick with how little sleep he’s gotten, maybe fix that.

“Will you sleep, now?”

Will hesitates. “There was a girl with a — skull injury.”

Nico understands immediately. (He saw the mangled mess of Lee’s shroud.)

“Come sleep in my cabin,” he suggests, squeezing his wrist. “I’ll keep watch, and you’ll have some privacy.”

“Okay,” he says quietly. He allows himself to be tugged out of the infirmary, only looking back a couple times. “Thank you, Nico.”

“Anything for you,” Nico responds, just as quiet, and his heart races when Will beams.

[iliveforyouilongforyouvesuvia]

Vesuvia Weekly (M6 Drabbles): To be loved is to be ...

Valued. Julian knows it's a bit callous of him to claim that nobody has ever valued him, when even the people he's hurt the most deeply still can't keep themselves from wanting to save him. But you're the first person who's somehow gotten that message past his poor self-esteem. Without any excuses to shelve your love onto - you're my family, you have to feel that way, I was your friend, you'd feel guilty if you didn't, you saved me once, so you're obliged to do it again - the only explanation he can accept from you is the one you give him.

So when you hold him and keep holding him when he's convinced he doesn't have anything worthwhile to offer you except himself, he has to believe he's valued. By you. And god, what a thought that is.

Known. After years of being your home, Asra knows you like the back of their hand. But for the past three years - and for most of their life, if they're being honest - their greatest safety was their capacity to be unknowable. Unreadable. Mysterious and unpredictable. Nobody was ever allowed into his heart as more than a guest, and until he unconditionally handed half of it over to you as yours, nobody ever had a claim to it. But now you've come fully into your own, and you're part of their life on equal footing, and secrets are foolish now.

You know everything about him - how he likes his tea, the minute shifts in your bond with his every fleeting emotion, the way his "impossible" brain thinks - and it's okay because it's you. You're home.

Uplifted. Nadia is a born and nurtured leader. As the youngest in a family of them, she watched and learned from a leadership style that focused on building things up - and then she married someone who tore her down instead, along with an entire city's populace. Waking up to a city in ruins and a council of sabotage and not a single memory of any nearby friends did not help the parts of her that could use some building up. How was she supposed to lay solid foundations when she felt like she was crumbling? Until you, that is.

You see her weaknesses and immaturities and inexperience and your response is to support her. You comfort her when she's discouraged and encourage her when she's fearful. You build her up.

Protected. As loathe as he is to admit it, Muriel's done more than his fair share of protecting those he cares about. From his time in the Coliseum, to his escape from the Coliseum, to his watchful nurture in the woods, many of his biggest changes happened to protect another life. He never got his hopes up for someone who'd see him, all 6'10, grouchy, seemingly indestructible roughness of him, and want to protect him. People like him don't get to have things like softness, and warmth, and hearty meals that make you sleepy-safe.

You don't agree. You see the fearful, anxiety-ridden child in his eyes when a crowd gets too big or a stranger gets too loud, and you take care of it. You protect him. You show him what "safe" feels like.

Seen. Counting every time she's been overlooked for someone else's sake is the fastest way to send Portia spiraling into uncharacteristic depression. The worst part is that she always ended up going along with it, overlooking herself in the process. Her brother needed a stable sister. The grandmas needed an extra pair of hands. Her brother needed a stable sister, again. The Palace needed someone to keep watch over the Countess. The Countess needed a handmaiden. So, you ... what kind of invisible do you need her to be, for you?

Except that you wanted her to be loud. You wanted her to be visible. You wanted her to talk about herself, for once. You're the first main character she's on equal footing with, and you see each other.

Changed. Lucio is not used to changing. He was raised to see it as a sign of weakness - one moment of compromising your own goals, one moment of failing to commit, and you're as good as dead. So he as a teenager, filled with feelings of betrayal and abandonment, decided exactly who he wanted to be and stuck to the bit. Too many deals, several battlefields, a lethal plague, a Coliseum, countless crimes, and a few decades later, Lucio found as good as dead anyways. Until you happened. With a new goal to commit to.

Somehow changing for you (as vulnerable as it is) doesn't feel weak. Every moment that he struggles out of another habit, he finds you in a new space full of gentle pleasures his teenaged self never imagined.

[hazelsmirrorball]

Spiderman’s Biggest Fan |  Jaime Reyes part 4

summary:  Jaime Reyes is the biggest spiderman fan. His girlfriend on the other hand is Spiderman's biggest hater. 

pairings: Jaime Reyes x Spiderman! FemReader 

a/n:  Part 4 baby! Hope you guys are enjoying this little series.  I know I said this was going to be the last part but I’m going to do one last part because 5 is my lucky number. Sorry in advance

warning: English isn’t my main language. Angsty and kinda sad. Not edited

[MASTERLIST]

part one. part two  part three part five

Aunt Marisol was dead.

The last ounce of family she had was dead and she left like a coward. Her mom and dad were gone before she had consciousness. Her uncle Ben died before she could even graduate high school and now Aunt Marisol, the only person she had left was gone. She had left her to root under piles of blocks. The person that raised her and took care of her most of her life was treated like shit. 

Y/n was a murderer. Even though she didn’t throw the bomb after her, she knew that the cause of it was her own fault.  She felt guilty for her aunt's death, if she weren't bitten by that damn radioactive spider she would be with her aunt right now, chatting about God knows what. If she would’ve organized herself and her life better she wouldn’t be dragging other people into her problems. There was no time to regret her actions, because that for sure wasn’t going to bring Marisol back. All she had of her were two things, the fight two hours prior to her death  and her words stuck in the back of her head. 

With great power comes great responsibility.  

Aunt Marisol didn’t recognize the person she had become but in all honesty. She couldn’t recognize the person she had become either. The real her would’ve stayed with Aunt Marisol. She would’ve, scratch that, She should be with The Reyes family, she should be showing her face at Marisol funeral, she should be mourning her aunt's death but there she was, avoiding everything and everyone. She hadn’t heard a thing from The Reyes family, not because they weren’t communicating with her, her phone had been blown up with text messages she decided to ignore, not ready to face anyone, specifically Jaime. 

Y/n in the past three weeks was houseless, her secret was out for Milagro to spill at any second, villains were on the loose making Palmera a big threat to civilians. She was on the verge of dropping out of grad school. She also assumed she was fired from her job and she didn’t have a clue if the Reyes family was okay since she didn’t want to anything, she didn’t want their pity or the mutual sadness, she couldn’t deal with that right now. 

With great power comes great responsibility, yet right now Y/n couldn’t even deal with the responsibility of keeping herself afloat , let alone save  a whole city. She finally accepted that she had lost it.  

It was clear that her priorities weren’t straight, she was aware of that. But all she wanted to do was stay in a corner while the funeral service started. Y/n had no intention of talking to anyone. She didn’t feel like hearing people's pity stories. She was used to it already growing up without parents made her get used to peoples sad eyes and pity glances. It didn’t help, so why even pay attention to them. Half way through the services Y/n managed to take her phone out distracting herself from the cries she could hear all over the room. 

As she scrolled around her eyes locked with a pair of  yellow eyes glowing towards her. Her eyes focused on the report that was glowing from her phone as she felt shivers down her spine remembering what Karen said. She should’ve called for backup when Karen suggested it. He could’ve helped her and maybe there could have been a chance she survived. Seeing him made her feel more guilty than before. A constant reminder that Marisol was dead and it was all her fault. 

Blue Beetle. 

The rising super hero that had shown up out of nowhere to save the day. Y/n never really trusted the Kord legacy and weirdly enough, Blue Beetle was associated with them. Which in her head meant that Blue Beetle wasn’t one to trust. But who could blame her? Ever since he showed up nothing but chaos came to the Palmera citizens. Something that Kord enterprises was known for doing so it wouldn’t surprise Y/n if he was associated with them and their evil origins. 

Her eyes glared at the screen in front of her not noticing how Jaime sat next to her quietly waiting for her to notice. Her thoughts snapback to reality as she felt Jaime rest his hand on her thigh. Her eyes wandered towards his face, noticing the tear filled eyes. Y/n looked at him with a sourlook. She wasn’t going to cry in front of him. She couldn’t break right now. She was going to keep Jaime safe. 

Jaime had a family to take care of. He was already dealing with grad school, work and his family. Having her in the mix made things worse, he had recently lost his dad, his house and now Aunt Marisol. Y/n couldn’t risk someone else being added to the dead list. 

“Can we please talk?” Jaime managed to get out as he extended his hand towards her. Y/n softly nodded holding his hand while heading to the exit noticing how the Reyes family eyes followed her. She shocked her head as she looked at the exit avoiding their eyes. 

As Jaime and Y/n headed outside both of them sat on a small bench outside, none of them daring to break the silence surrounding them. Y/n played with her hands as Jaime heard Khaji Da telling about Y/n's off demeanor. 

“How is everything going? Where are you guys staying?” Y/n asked, breaking the uncomfortable silence surrounding them.  

“I guess we are as good as it can get. Jenny actually helped us with a place to stay while we fix the house” Jaime replied softly as Y/n grimace as the name of Jenny Kord  got brought up. 

“Well, I’m glad”She replied as she played with her lips softly not knowing what to say. 

“You know, I know this is a lot for you but I really want to help you, Y/n. But I can’t help you if you continue to push me away. I know this is all of a sudden but you can’t keep pushing me away. I was really worried about you. I thought you died too!” Jaime exclaimed as his voice broke.

"I just..." before Y/n could even continue talking Jaime stopped her words.

"I know this may sound dumb but I think you need to hear this right now. I know for a fact Spiderman will find those people that got aunt Marisol and he will do the right thing."

"Jaime, for fuck's sakes! The only thing you talk about is that damn Spiderman. Fuck him all he does is fuck peoples lives off. If he were actually good, if any hero was actually good, there wouldn't be any crime, but Palmera is getting fucked by the second and your little Spiderman or that damn beetle haven't done a thing. Open your eyes Jaime. The only moment where heroes have actually done anything is in the damn comics your read, beside from that they are not to be trust"

Jaime stared at her agape not knowing what to say. He never intended for this conversation to take the route it was currently in. He wanted to tell Y/n to stay with them. He wanted to help her, not fight with her outside of a funeral home.

Y/n closed her eyes in pain knowing what she had to do. As much as it was going to hurt the both of them she knew it had to be done now, for their safety and relationship. Y/n stayed quiet for a few minutes much to Jaimes dismay. 

“I think it’s best if we broke up” Y/n replied nonchalantly as she looked him dead in the eyes. She watched as Jaimes face dropped and more tears threatened to spill as she stayed with a neutral look on her face making Jaime even more hurt. 

“What?” Jaime's voice broke as his eyes widened, not believing what was going on.  Y/n took a deep breath and turned to the side not wanting to see his broken face, knowing that she couldn’t take it anymore. 

“I’m glad that you came here to show support and everything. I’m grateful for everything we have done as a couple but  right I think it’s best for us to take a break Jaime. There’s a lot of things going on and I need time” 

“Are you hearing yourself right now? I just told you about opening up to me and not pushing me away. That’s what you are doing right now. I can’t help you if you are constantly pushing me away. I’m all that you have left. What the hell happened to forever”  Jaime exclaimed  angrily, getting up. Y/n focused her eyesight towards the sidewalk in front of her not wanting to face Jaime. 

“I’m not asking for your help Jaime. I’m telling now that maybe us, this, wasn’t meant to be forever. That’s something you need to get through your head. Now, as I said, thank you for showing up. I’m sure that Aunt Marisol appreciates it, but I need to go back inside to talk to people. Goodnight Jaime” Y/n replied calmly, giving her back towards Jaime as tears fell from her cheeks hearing the cries escaping Jaime’s lips. 

With great power comes great responsibility.  

Jaime was right. Spiderman will find those assholes that killed aunt Marisol and she was going to do the right thing. Even if it took to kill them in the process.

That was Y/n's new purpose in life.

[MASTERLIST]

part five.

[batmanisagatewaydrug]

hey, this is the same 14 year old from earlier. first, i want to thank you so much for such a well rounded, thoughtful response. i went through all the resources and they were all very helpful. after thinking about it, i think i probably won't do this after all. technically i think i am ready, i understand the possible consequences, i know how to be safe, etc etc, but i'm just kind of anxious. and it might be a better idea to wait to do things like this with someone i actually have romantic feelings towards, because i'll probably enjoy it more then, right? i'm not exactly sure why i agreed to do it in the first place, i guess curiosity or for the sake of formative teenage experiences or literally just "why not" lmao. i do have one more question if that's alright, do you know of a good way to tell her that i don't really want to do this anymore? we haven't set up an actual date and time yet but she's serious about it and i was serious about it but obviously my opinion has changed. i feel kind of guilty about backing out especially because she kinda wanted this as a rebound after breaking up with her girlfriend of like, six years (which means it might be good if we don't do this anyway, this might be an impulsive decision on her part that she ends up regretting).

also one more question (sorry) if you have the time and energy for it. i know there's a lot of people asking you questions haha. how would you get an STI or STD through oral sex? i understand the basics, its spread through genital fluids and gets into your body that way, but how would the symptoms start showing in your own genitals? or would they not and just show up in your mouth or throat? the planned parenthood link kind of talked about that, but it said that it was rare. anyway thank you so much! you've been genuinely so helpful and kind and i appreciate it so much!

hello! welcome back! it's great to hear from you again, and I'm glad that response was helpful. it's awesome that you were able to weigh all the available information to make that decision. you'll have plenty of other opportunities for formative teenage experiences, very few of which have to involve sex at all - I'd be a bad sex witch if I didn't tell you that I didn't have sex with another person for the first time until I was almost 21!

cancelling this plan with your friend might feel awkward, but it doesn't need to be worse than dipping out of any other activity. "hey, I think I changed my mind about wanting to see this movie; I don't really think I'm going to vibe with it. thank you for inviting me, though!" 'I'm actually not feeling up to going to the game, but I hope you can find someone else to go with." "sorry to change our plans, but I think having sex actually isn't something I want to do right now. thanks for being understanding."

this may hurt your friend's feelings; it can often feel extremely personal and hurtful when someone doesn't reciprocate an interest in sex, and feel much worse than someone saying no to other kinds of plans. this may be especially true if you're right about your friend trying to rebound from a previous relationship - six years is a long relationship for anyone, especially someone for whom six years is almost half of their life, and there's a good chance she's still feeling sore from the loss of that relationship and is seeking comfort and validation from another source (you). good on you for being insightful enough to notice this and recognize this! that's an important trait to have, both as a friend and in your future romantic and sexual relationships.

if your friend doesn't take it well when you change your mind, you may need to get a little space from her while her feelings cool off. remember, while you should be kind when you say no - obviously nothing like "I wouldn't want to have sex with you, you're gross and just rebounding" - you're not doing anything wrong at all by changing your mind, and if your friend starts trying to pester you into changing your mind or acting more harshly to you, we've definitely crossed into the territory where she's the asshole. (not that you're the asshole for saying no; nobody is the asshole in that scenario.) if she takes it poorly, it's okay to ask her for some distance and spend less time around her until the hurt feelings are mended.

remember: you don't need to feel guilty for changing your mind. you are always allowed to do that, even if you're in the middle of having sex. you don't owe anyone else access to your body, ever, and anyone who tries to convince you otherwise can go straight into the trash.

and please don't ever feel the need to apologize for asking about STIs, they're one of my favorite things to talk about!

for many STIs that can be transmitted to the mouth, the symptoms will stay in the mouth and/or throat. sometimes that will look like sores or blisters in or around the mouth, which are sometimes painful and ooze discharge and sometimes don't feel like anything at all. it can also feel like an ordinary cold, with a sore throat and some difficulty swallowing. in most cases, the symptoms won't spread to your genitals unless you also contracted the STI there as well - for instance, if you touched your mouth and tongue to an infected partner's genitals and then also touched your genitals to theirs as well. but while the symptoms looks different, the medicines that treat STIs affecting the genitals are just as effective at clearing up infections in the mouth and throat.

I'm super happy to help, and please know you can send in more asks any time :)

[oddaesthetin]

HOW THE JJK BOYS WOULD REACT TO YOUR LOVE FOR EAVESDROPPING (nanami ver.)

nanami kento

• 100% responsible adult

• not the type to give a damn about other people’s business because “i already have a drama of my own, why would i want to know theirs”

• i feel like nanami is the type of partner who would scold you for always sticking your ear to your neighbors’ drama

• but he catches up later on and unconsciously adapt your habit of listening to them as well lol

• you’ll be surprised one day he’s the one updating you about the recent continuation of your neighbor’s cheating issues

• becomes incredibly in denial when you tell him you noticed he’s getting interested (he was also questioning himself whether or not he was infact invested)

— 🖋 —

“sweetheart.”

you continued sipping your tea. maybe if they could yell just a little bit louder you’ll catch some of the details even quickly. all that you’ve learned so far is that mrs. makino was yet again caught by one of his sons face-timing someone that isn’t their father, talking sweetly and obviously flirtatiously, then the son told his father about it, whom, then confronted his wife just minutes after he came back from wor—

“y/n. please stop that.”

your concentration vanished as you heard the man sitting in front of you sigh.

you sat straight, “what, i’m sorry, were you saying something?”

he looked at you very seriously. enough to make you feel guilty about not giving him, or the food in front of you any attention for the past couple of minutes.

“is this really how you wanna spend our dinner? i don’t think gossiping could make your stomach full.”

you looked at the food again, his plate already half empty, and yours barely touched; and just started noticing how the evening wind’s starting to get chiller. you were the one who suggested you two eat at your apartment’s balcony, but in your defense, you didn’t know the drama was gonna continue tonight.

you pouted and whispered, “but it was just getting to the good part! mrs. makino was about to explain her siiiidee.”

the stern look (hOT) remained, and with a defeated sigh, you finally went back to eating.

————

you just came back from a 3-day trip, and for the sake of your pet fishes lives, you ask your kind boyfriend kento to take care of your apartment while you’re gone.

a week has already passed since the last drama from your neighbor’s apartment and you will definitely be lying if you say you weren’t curious about the latest updates. you were dying to ask your boyfriend about it until you realized he’s the mature adult in the relationship and that he probably didn’t even choose to pay them some of his attention.

you rolled your eyes at the thought.

“something bothering you, darling?”

caught. you shook your head dismissively and went back to washing the dishes. “i just thought of something…err, about work.”

nanami, who’s beside you drying up the dishes you’re finished washing, took the plate and the sponge out of your hands. “perhaps its the jet lag taking a toll on your mood. you should rest.”

you took a deep breath and kissed his cheeks before lying on the sofa in your small living room.

just as you were starting to get engrossed to the reels you were watching on your phone, you heard him speak.

“by the way, i think mr and mrs. makino split up. temporarily, i guess. i heard them talking the other night. the husband took their sons. said something about until mrs. makino realizes something—why are you laughing?” he asked confusedly, and you also couldn’t help but be in awe at the sight you saw. your charming, mature and responsible boyfriend, just looking at you seriously while wearing an apron, holding a sponge covered in bubble in one hand and a plate on the other.

you wiped the tears that escaped your eye, “OH MY GOD, DUDE, I GOT YOU INVESTED IN THIS. YOU FINALLY LOVE THE DRAMA.”

“no, i’m not, dude.” nanami gave you a snub and continued with what he’s doing. “i was just thinking you wanted an update. that’s all.”

“WHATEVER YOU SAY, HONEY.”

without looking back at you, he rolled his eyes. he wanted to give an answer but was left speechless and instead just thought about how he preferred being called ‘honey’ by you than being called ‘dude’.

not proofread yet

[l33bang24]

OMG It’s You… (Part 5)

YouTube!Fem reader x Stray Kids

Summary: Y/N’s YouTube channel is taking off after her reactions to Stray Kids MV God’s Menu. Now she’s making videos nonstop along with working a full time job. What would happen if she got offered a job of a lifetime and met the boys of her succession?

⚠️Warnings⚠️: Lee Know scolding his Hyung, talks of feeling guilty, jealous, frustration, crying, family issues, Chan and reader not feeling good enough, Chan feeling like a bad leader, teasing, comforting, talks of mental and emotional abuse

🏷️: @laylasbunbunny @weirdowithaphone @silverstarburst @jusanontstuff @anxiousskylar @drewsandsebastianswife @amararosesblog @niaalove (Taglist open)

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 2.5 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 6 Chapter 6.5 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9

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Third Person POV

Chan, feeling guilty, had been standing outside the Maknae/Lee Know’s door. Ever since he himself got onto Felix about being so obsessed with Y/N’s channel, his little Aussie brother has been avoiding him. The only time he interacts with Chan is when he has to, otherwise he avoids him like the plague. It didn’t help that his mind kept replaying his conversation with Lee Know after said dance leader came over to talk to him.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Flashback

Lee Know has been pacing back and forth in front of his only Hyung. His emotions were all over the place. Chan’s eyes were following his every move. He was waiting for him to explode. He knew it wouldn’t be much longer before he did. Lee Know finally speaks up. “Do you know what I walked into, mmhm? Our son crying, because not only did his brothers tease him, but his own Father got onto him about something he can’t control.” He stops pacing and Chan’s body stiffens. His eyes were wandering all around Lee Know, trying to gauge what his next move is going to be.

“I’ve told you time and time before just how sensitive he can be when it comes to her. You and I both just how easy it is to get attached to something or someone. Yet you let your emotions control your actions and you took it out on someone. Did you even apologize like I told you to?” Chan looked away, making Lee Know scuff. “How am I not surprised?” Chan goes to open his mouth, but Lee Know stops him. “I don’t care how stressed out you are about this new comeback.” Lee Know finally sits down beside his Hyung. “Look, you know that I will always support you and have your back. I’ve always looked up to you Chan Hyung for how much responsibility you take on for us, and I know it’s not easy being the leader of a group. Sometimes you forget that you’re not alone and you have people who want to help you.”

Chan nods his head, trying to keep his tears at bay, but even his younger brother can see he’s struggling. Lee Know surprises his Hyung by wrapping his arms around him. At first Chan didn’t know if he was just imagining it or not, but then Lee Know speaks up. “Are you going to hug me back or not? Because I will pull away.” Lee Know teases him and that’s all Chan needed before he returns the hug. Chan lets a few tears slip from his eyes, holding on to Lee Know. “I’m sorry Min. You’re right, I do let things get to me. I guess the fight between them too was my breaking point.”

When Lee Know finally pulls back after some time, he looks up at Chan. “I know, but just remember that I can help you. You’re not alone.”

End of Flashback

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

They ended up staying like that for a while. Lee Know telling him that if he apologizes to Felix, then that should fix the problem. At least he hopes it will. Finally knocking on the door, Lee Know opens it. “That took you a while.” He teases his Hyung, making said Hyung roll his eyes playfully. “Is he in his room?” His other half bobs his head. “He’s been in there for a while. He’s come out to eat, but then goes back to his room.” Chan acknowledges him before going over to his little brother’s room. He knocks on the door and hears movement inside. Footsteps reach the door before the door knob turns, revealing Felix.

Felix, seeing his oldest Hyung, goes to close the door, but he gets stopped by Chan. “Can we please talk Felix?” Before Felix can respond, Chan continues. “You don’t have to say anything. I’d like to apologize to you if you’ll let me.” Felix knew that he couldn’t avoid his leader forever, so he lets his Hyung in. Chan enters the room, taking in his surroundings. He could see that he’d been playing a game, but he had been listening to Y/N’s channel. He sighs to himself. Chan places a bag on his nightstand filled with goodies.

“I know that I can’t win you over by food, and I don’t expect you to eat it. I was at the convenience store and picked up some things I know you like.” Chan moves to sit on Felix’s bed while Felix goes to sit in his gaming chair. Chan looks down at his hands before saying what’s on his mind. “I shouldn’t taken my frustration on you.” Felix is avoiding eye contact with Chan and wringing his hands together. Chan continues, watching Felix closely. “With everything going on and me worrying about things I can’t control, the argument you had with Seungmin just topped it off. I let my own emotions control my actions and I shouldn’t have. It’s not fair to you.”

Chan wants to hold his little Sunshine, but he’s afraid he’ll make things worse than it already is. Then again it’s not like Felix is making it better either. He knew that avoiding the impending confrontation wouldn’t go away on its own. Felix takes a glance at his leader to see that he’s struggling too. Chan’s never exploded on any of his members before, especially not Felix. He knew that instead of trying to make things better for Felix, he made it worse to point where he’d locked himself in his room crying. When Chan learned this from Lee Know, he never felt as guilty as he did now. He’s always had this feeling like he fails at being a leader, but what he did to Felix really pushed him over the edge.

Chan looked over at the video Felix had been watching. It’s the same one that Felix loves. Chan didn’t express just how much he loved seeing her. The only one that knows is Minho. The dance leader found his Hyung crying while watching that video. Everyone knew, especially his members, how hard of a time he went through while training for those 7 years. He’s told everyone that his members saved his life and his members know this all too well. When he first found Y/N, he felt this emotion in his chest and it didn’t feel like happiness. He felt like she was trying to copy him and he didn’t know how to feel about it. He held some kind of resentment towards her, but one day it all changed.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Chan had been trying to avoid watching Y/N’s videos, but it was as if she was everywhere. From his FYP on TikTok to YouTube, even Instagram. From his members to the Stays that wouldn’t stop talking about how wonderful she was. It was as if the Universe wouldn’t leave him alone. He couldn’t escape from seeing her beautiful face and those gorgeous y/e/c eyes that haunted him every time he closes his own. He could almost hear her contagious laughter in his head. You’d think he was going insane and needed to be put in an asylum.

He’d had enough with all of it. At this point he was ready to throw his own laptop at the wall. He couldn’t focus on the task at hand anymore. He’s never been this frustrated about someone he’s never met. She’s everywhere he goes yet not there in physical form. He wishes he could find some way to get rid of her, that way he could focus on making music for all these comebacks that are coming up. It didn’t help that all of his members were talking about the latest video she posted.

Finally having enough he forcefully pushes himself away from the desk and it’s down on the couch in the studio. He sees that she just recently posted a new video within the last hour or two. It had already gotten over a million views and 300 thousand likes. He presses down on the video before watching it. She shows up on the video and she looks like a wreck. Eyes bloodshot, nose and cheeks are red and puffy, tears flowing down her cheeks leaving tear stains. She looks like she has been crying for hours. Her hair is a mess, she’s wearing baggy clothes. But one thing that stands out to Chan is she’s wearing a Stray Kids hoodie while holding the Wolf Chan skzoo plush. All of Chan’s frustrations go flying out the window and he’s fully focused on her.

Her lip keeps quivering then she just breaks down and cries. All the times he’s seen her, she’s always smiling and happy, but he’s never seen her like this. He’d give anything to be there with her right then. To hold her and tell her that it’s okay. He doesn’t know who or what caused her to be like this, but he’d do anything to find out and make them pay for upsetting her. She gets up to grab a box of tissues to blow her nose. She had some snot running down from her nose, but he didn’t pay it any attention. “I’m sorry.” She finally says, lips still quivering.

“There’s nothing to be sorry for.” Chan finds himself replying, though she can’t hear him. “I won’t lie to any of y’all and say that I’m okay, because I’m not. Everyone has problems in their life, including me.” She laughs a little. “I never wanted for any of you to ever see this side of me. But today had just been the worst.” She goes on to explain how broken her family is and that she always seems to be caught in the middle of the chaos. She talks about how her mother took her passive aggression out on her for years because she was the only child that wanted to visit her father after their divorce.

She was never physically hurt but was mentally and emotionally abused. How it took years for her to understand what actually happened to her while she lived with her mother and siblings. What caused her breaking point was an argument with one of her siblings and how no one ever seems to understand her. She had cried all the way home and even broke down when she got home. “Moral of the story, everyone has struggles in their own lives and everyone deals with them differently. So please don’t be like me and hold your emotions inside. It’s okay to cry. It’s okay to feel sad. It’s not okay to feel like you’re a burden, because you’re not.” She lets out a shaky breath and Chan can’t remove his eyes from the screen. “Did I want you to see me like this? No, because I know that there’s people out there who will mock me saying that I’m just doing this to get attention. I’m not like that. I have problems just like everyone else. I’m not a robot, I’m a human being that has emotions too. I just act like everything’s okay, but in reality I’m not.” She holds tighter to Wolf Chan. “I hope everyone has a good rest of your day. I will see you all next time. Bye.” She tries to smile and waves with her hand that’s not holding Wolf Chan.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“You like that video too, don’t you?” Felix looks up at his Hyung seeing him staring at the computer screen. Felix looks at him and nods his head. “It seems I’m not the only one. Lee Know Hyung likes it too.” Chan’s eyes widened, “That’s his favorite too?” Felix nods his head. “He’s never told me that.” Chan replies back to Felix. “He told me when he came to comfort me. I didn’t believe him at first, but when I looked at him I could see he wasn’t lying.” Chan drops his head. ‘Maybe we all like this video.’ He thought to himself.

“I thought you didn’t like Y/N’s channel.” Chan goes to ask him why he would think that, but Felix beat him to it. “Come on, Chan Hyung. We all could see that you didn’t like her from the start. Every time she got mentioned, it was as if someone had kicked Berry. You can’t tell me that you liked her this whole time. What changed? Why get mad at me when the other members were talking about her too?” Chan closed his eyes trying to pull himself together. ‘I guess I wasn’t good at hiding my emotions like I thought I was.’ He thinks to himself.

“A lot happened.” He feels the bed dip beside him and he opens his eyes to see Felix looking at him. “Tell me. Please.” Chan nods before explaining everything. From his frustration with hearing about her all the time to the jealousy he felt because of her. To the video that changed his perspective of Y/N and all the stress he’s been under from the company. He laid everything out there for Felix, hoping that it would possibly explain why he’s done what he did. “I will always regret coming onto you instead of taking a step back and thinking things through. I didn’t realize until it was too late and by then I upset you when I shouldn’t have. I don’t want to be the reason why you cry, but I was. I’m not asking for forgiveness, but I hope you know that I will never to that again.” Chan feels arms wrapping around him and respirates by wrapping his own around Felix. He tightens his arms around him afraid that Felix will disappear if he loosens his arms.

“It’s okay Chan Hyung. I didn’t help any either. I should have talked with you sooner rather than later.” Chan shakes his head and pulls back just enough to look at Felix’s face. “Don’t. The person in the wrong is me, not you.” He grins at Felix, and Felix smiles back. “Did Lee Know did you that the company will let us send Y/N one package or letter each?” Chan’s smile widens and bobs his head. He had been excited when he heard about that. He pulls back completely before replying. “I did. What are you thinking about sending her?” Felix looks around his room. “I’ve been trying to figure that out for a while but I’m stumped.” Chan moves to get up. “Well don’t think too much about it. She’ll love whatever you give her.” Felix agrees. “Wait. What are you going to send her?” Felix asks his leader. Chan smirks. “I guess you’ll find out when she opens the package.” He winks leaving his room.

(A/N: Stray Kids get to send the reader one package or letter each! What do you they they’ll send her? 🤔)

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

𝐅𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚 𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐤𝐲 𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐝

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as violence, blood, mentions of cheating, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: Your suspicions lead to a discovery you'll never forget. (Part of the Illuminate AU)

Characters: James Conrad

Note: This is our last installment for October. I had a lot of fun with this and I hope you did too. Let me know what you think about me possibly opening drabble reqs/imagines as little continuations of these fics.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me <3

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!)

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

“Be careful,” you gird as James grabs his suitcase, his black wool coat buttoned up under his grey scarf, “the roads are awful. Are you sure you can’t delay?”

You cross your arms and shiver as the frigid winter seeps in around the front door behind him. He gives a mournful shake of his head. He looks gaunt and ashen, a feat for someone with his bone structure. He makes himself smile and steps towards you, cradling the back of your head as he draws you close to kiss your forehead.

You close your eyes and tilt your head up, claiming a kiss on the mouth too. He pulls you close, embracing you tightly. You feel him tense before he lets you go. Your anxiety heightens as you retract and look him up and down.

It isn’t unusual for him to travel for work, you knew that when accepted the job, and you can’t complain for the profit of his efforts. Yet, the last few times, you’ve had this uneasy feeling. A little voice that keeps whispering to you that something is amiss. There’s something you’re not being told.

“I will,” he avows, “love you.”

“Love you too,” you echo on impulse. You mean it but that doubt nips inside of you. 

“I’ll call…” he says, “please, don’t worry too much about me.”

“I always worry,” now that is true.

“Stay in tonight,” he says as he tucks his gloves into his pocket and hooks his finger through his keys, “it’s cold.”

“Trust me, I won’t be out,” you scoff, “bye babe.”

“Bye,” he says reticently, unable to restrain a twiddle in his fingers.

He faces the door and lets himself out. You follow behind him as he pulls the door shut and you push on it to make sure it catches. You hover your hand on the lock and watch him through the slender pane of glass set into the door. He looks back as he gets to the car, raising his hand in a half-hearted wave.

He could cancel, couldn’t he? Say the weather was too much, the roads icy. He should be able to and he hardly seems eager to go. Or perhaps, only guilty…

You can’t wait another month for your answer. You back away from the door without locking it and take out your phone. You pull up the app and see the little dot in your driveway, backing out slowly. You shouldn’t have done it, you shouldn’t have slipped the tag in his bag, but you know you won’t sleep either way.

You’ll wait ten minutes before you leave. You slide open the closet and pull out your jacket and boots. You’ll have to keep your distance, try not to catch up. If he gets to the interstate, you’ll turn back. You’ll know then if he’s lying or not.

🌕

The sky darkens quickly. With your headlights off, it's even more umbrous. A full moon is expected and would help illuminate the road if it even deigns to emerge from behind the clouds.

You follow the dot on your phone, driving slowly to keep a safe distance, to not be seen. Your husband's care turns away from the interstate and your dread mounts. He doesn't head for the country roads either.

It's only as you take the next turn and hit gravel that you realise exactly where you are. You're headed into the industrial district. What a choice for a hookup. You're convinced now.

You dim the screen of your phone as the dot of the airtag blinks closer and closer in the app. You steer slowly over the stony lot past one of the block factories and past an inactive smokestack. You stop just as you spot the idling tail lights of James’ car.

You shut off your engine and watch as he does the same. You watch him through the darkness, the pillow clouds of the winter’s night casting him in ominous shadows. He gets out, his tall silhouette slightly hunched as he nearly staggers forward. He shakes his head as if he’s dizzy.

He nears the large building before him, soft light radiating around the crack of the large metal door. You note that he doesn’t bring his bag from the back seat. You already know this isn’t business, but that’s all the proof you need to sink into your despair.

You watch as the tall metal door slides back from within and he dips his head as he’s greeted by another figure within. You see only her outline. Her. You shudder and tear your gaze away, staring at the stone on your finger. You hear the heavy shift of the door as it rolls shut, clanging as it’s locked from the other side.

Fuck. What now? You know what he’s been up to but you don’t have a plan beyond that. Do you drive home and cry into a glass of wine? Do you get out and confront him? Tell him not to come back.

Suddenly, the world brightens around you as the layers of clouds recede and reveal the full face of the moon. The silver light beams down and shines on James’ car and the front of the dingy white industrial building.

Your eyes sting as you find yourself paralysed. Go back or forward. You don’t know what way to go.

A starling growl rips through the whistling wind and jars you. You look around, horrified by the noise, something eerie you can’t place. A wolf? Around here? You grip the wheel tight as your eyes return to the dented facade of the abandoned factory.

Your inaction, your indecision holds you there. Deep down, you didn’t want to believe. You couldn’t. You love James so much that maybe you can get through this.

Your hopeless thoughts are interrupted by the sudden shatter of glass. Shocked, you look up to the rain of shards as they fall from the second story of the building. A dark shape plummets from the height and heaps onto the ground, twitching. Oh god, it can’t be!

You lean forward, trying to see if the figure is still moving. Is it a person? Is it him? That fear submerges you and cuts through your hurt and anger. You get out without another doubt, leaving the car door open and you race towards the puffing body on the ground.

As you near, you slow, stopping just a few feet away as you realise it can’t possibly be your husband. It isn’t even human. The… creature raises its head, sniffing with its long snout as it bears its teeth with a ravenous snarl. Its silver eyes meet yours as you stumble back in terror.

What is that?

You shriek as it plants its feet and rises. You step backwards, twisting on your heel as you hurl yourself back towards your car. You run without looking back, hearing that thing pursuing you with its gritty breaths and crashing paws. No, no, no!

You pant as your shoulder hits the door of your car. You barely keep it from closing full and pull it back. As you do, you feel a fiery rip through your flesh, right down the back of your leg, ripping through your muscle. You kick back and launch yourself into the front seat.

You turn and pull the door shut, catching the wolfish monster’s head between it and the metal frame. You cling to the door as it snaps its jaw at you, growling and slobbering your leg throbs hotly. You shift the door and inch and pull it shut, slamming it against the beast's neck. It yelps and as it recoils and you let up enough for it to reel back in the dirt.

You quickly lock the doors and the windows and face the wheel. Your leg is almost impossible to control as it shakes, slick with blood as it seeps through your jeans. You’re dizzy as you feel your strength draining fast. 

You won’t make it far if you don’t stem the flow. Fast! The beast hops onto your hood, its claws denting it as it hammers on the metal. You take your scarf from around your neck and tie it above your knee, tight, then tear away the dangling patch of your jeans to wrap the gash down your calf. 

You shake as you sit back and turn the keys in the slot. You feel the fire radiating up your thigh, like your veins are filling with acid. The creature bends back the corner of your hood and the rumble of your engine dies as it buries its dagger-like claws into it. Fuck!

The monster turns its silver irises back on you, breath puffing as it watches you through the windshield. It spins and raises its paws, bringing them down on the glass, sending a spider web of cracks through it. It rears back again but before it can bring down the shattering hit, a blur swipes it off the front of the car.

You hear snarling and snapping. You squint as the edges of your vision blur. You’re losing too much blood. You can feel the world fading from you.

You glance over as another lupine creature tangles with the first. They’re fighting, rolling in the dirt and snow, thrashing and biting. Your head lolls back against the seat and your gaze wanders over to the building as you resign yourself to the weakness dragging your eyelids down.

In your final moments, worry bubbles over and pangs in your chest. That beast. James was inside, had it hurt him too? Is he still alive?

🌕

The world pulses around you, just on the other side of your unconscious. Blustering gales pound against metal, sweeping through and glossing over your raw cheeks. The rest of you is enshrined in ice, the dull hum of hot air blowing from something electric. 

Your nose is dry and your lips are crackly, your body bound in achy knots. Your leg is emblazoned in fire as you quake, the frigid cold invading your very person. You cling to the blanket cocooned around you, groaning as your eyelids slowly lift.

There’s something musty in the air, a smell that makes your stomach churn. And your dry tongue is stained with the residue of something vile, metallic and visceral. You swallow and cough, rattling as you’re certain the pungent scent of blood is your own. 

Visions of your wolfish attacker return to you and have you whining. Is this death? Purgatory perhaps. The high ceilings and iron rafters watching over you, a moon wrought in similar material hanging at one end of large space, with hands that tick like a clock, the words waxing and waning twisted on each side of the frame.

You cough again, a hoarse deep crackle that catches in your throat. You hear something, the soft clang of metal under rubber, soles nearing you as a shadow looms along your peripheral. A hush that hisses before a stolid heat spreads across your forehead.

“Shhhhh, honey,” James’ voice comforts you as it drawls like syrup, “don’t move, alright?”

He comes around the other side of the couch you lay on, his features narrowing in and out of focus. He drags close a chair and sits near you, taking your hand in his, doting on it as he kisses your knuckles. He tilts his head to press his brow to your fingers, as if praying.

“I’m sorry,” he utters, “I tried…”

“James,” you croak, “what…”

“I think… I don't think I was too late,” he doesn’t raise his head, “but I don’t know if it was the right thing.”

“Please,” you rasp.

“The moon wasn’t gone yet, it wasn’t…” He murmurs, “I wasn’t too late…”

You don’t understand his ramblings. He rocks as he clings to your hands, raising his head as his eyes glisten. He watches you, terrified and ashen. He leans in and stands slightly to place a kiss on your forehead.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart,” he cradles your cheek, “this is what I never wanted…”

“You…” you close your eyes and remember, “lied?”

“I had to,” he says, “to protect you. To try– if you knew what I am–” he stops himself. He shifts, the chair legs scraping, and you feel the blanket tug up your legs. You shiver as he moves your legs. He unwraps it from the fabric rolled around it. He lets his thumb trace up the scabbed skin and lets out another shaky breath, “it worked…”

“What is going on?” You hiss and snap your eyes open, whimpering as you try to rip your leg away from his touch.

“Oh, no,” he pulls back and puts his head in his hands, “oh, sweetheart, I don’t know… I never wanted you to hate me–”

You wince as metal rumbles, clattering loudly behind him, revealing a grey winter morning and letting in a virulent gust. James stands, nearly toppling the chair, and faces the new arrival. He squares his shoulder, a formidable man even without his posturing.

“You!” He snarls, “shut the damn door!”

“Huh?” The female responds with a grunt, “good morning to you too–”

“You fucking idiot!” He storms towards her just as she slides the door shut, the echo of it hitting the frame rattles you. And his timbre. You've never heard him so angry, or even speak like that. “You— You—”

You see the woman, a blond much shorter than him, but unintimidated by his advance. Her blonde hair is tinged scarlet at the ends, something red caked down her chest, shamelessly peeking out from beneath her shredded attire. She puts her hands on her hips as she faces him boldly.

“What?” She challenges, eyes wandering to you, “oh… who’s this, Conrad?”

He sneers and steps into her line of sight, “my wife. Who you scratched–”

“I… I did?” She scoffs.

“Fuck off, Yelena,” he shoves her, “don’t play fucking stupid with me.”

“Oh, you want to be a bitch?” She retorts, “what happened to pack rules. We don’t touch each other.”

“You were going to kill her–” Your head spins at their conversation. What are they talking about?

“She shouldn’t have been here!”

You hug the blanket as your teeth chatter. Kill you? Flashes of dark fur, the grind of bending metal, the hiss of the engine as it dies, and the beastly silver eyes. No, it can’t be.

“What are you?” You whisper.

Their argument quiets and the both turn to you, faces shadowed with guilt. The woman, Yelena, he called her, glances at him from the corner of her eyes. His shoulders drop and he hangs his head.

“She is still alive,” she comments. “Maybe I didn’t cut very deep.”

“Deep enough,” he shakes his head, “I had to…” he can’t finish the sentence. She frowns and pats his back, “you saved her life. You did what you had to and…” she smirks, “it isn’t so bad.”

“Speak for yourself,” he growls and shrugs her off.

He crosses to you again and resumes his seat. You watch him, speechless with confusing. You put your hands to the stiff cushion under you and push yourself up. You grunt at the effort it takes and your eyes find the ripple gash along the back of your leg. You stare at the crackly brown scabbing.

“How long…” you wonder.

“Ten hours. Look, I’ll explain but–”

Ten hours. A cute that serious couldn't heal that quickly. That's impossible.

The large door rolls open again. He cringes and his forehead lines with frustration at the interruption. You strain to see past him as a couple enters, the man striding nonchalantly, buck naked as a woman follows wrapped in a plaid blanket. She’s disheveled as he brazenly taps her ass, urging her ahead of him before he slides the door shut with an effortless nudge. 

“Of course, Jesus,” James looks back over his shoulder, “Kraven, put something on. The fuck. What happened to not drawing attention?”

“Mm, it’s nice out,” the other man, Kraven grins, curling his arm around the woman who seems less than comforted by his embrace. She looks exhausted. “Oh, and who is this? So worried for me bringing back stragglers?”

James rolls his eyes and looks back to you. He’s quiet as he gives you a helpless expression. He stands and leans over you, keeping his voice low, “I’ll explain when it’s not chaos.”

He tries to press a kiss to your forehead but you turn your head so he can only peck your temple. Explain what? Who are these people? Where is she? The woman who must’ve drawn him into all this.

James crosses the room and snatches up another blanket, throwing it at the naked man. “A bit of decency.”

“Hey, this is my home,” Kraven snips.

The woman grabs the blanket as it drapes from his shoulder and she puts it around his waist, knotting it at the top. He lets her, unbothered entirely. He bends his head side to side, cracking the tension from it.

“Where’s the fucking coffee?”

“Language,” James warns as he looms before you.

“Kettle’s boiling,” an unfamiliar voice squeaks and another woman appears from the edge of the room. You have no idea where she came from. 

Your head is pounding from the building wall of sounds around you. You hear the kettles now, heating up slowly, and the blasting blow of the electric heater, the wailing winds, the pulsing of heartbeats all around you. You cover your ears and cry out, “be quiet!”

“Ah, I see, a new friend,” Kraven muses.

“His wife,” Yelena explains.

“Another?” The quiet woman who drifts like a ghost adds.

“What happened to not shitting where you eat?” Yelena snips, “am I the only one who doesn’t bring their scraps home?”

“What scraps?” A voice comes from above and you peer up at a dark-haired man watching from the second level.

“Ah, don’t start, thrall-fucker,” Yelena sneers up at the man. The woman who stands near the shaking kettle looks away guiltily as the couple wrapped in blankets peek at her. Yelena chuckles, “oh, you didn’t know?”

“Quietttttttt,” another voice adds to the chaos as a tall blonde man appears at the top of the stairs, “she is sleeping.”

“Mm, and his precious little doll,” Yelena mumbles as she blows a raspberry. “When did you all get so goddamn cheesy?”

The kettle suddenly whistles, carving a cavern in your skull. You cover your ears and writhes, screaming again. Everything needs to stop!

“Enough!” James hollers, “Belova, Kemp, Kraven, Warlock, here. The rest, go!”

The room stills. The exchanges of looks, some amused, others skeptical, a few frightened. The woman in the blanket moves first as the man taps her arm, then the woman near the kettle follows her up the stairs as the tall blond descends past them and the dark-haired man above makes his way down without urgency.

Several doors above close as you look at those who remain. Yelena, that man Kraven, and the two other men. James turns to you, “Yelena, make my wife a coffee as I sort this out.”

“Is she dying?” The dark-haired man in wooly sweater asks. The other smells the air and his narrow eyes focus on you.

“She’s turning,” the blond declares.

“She is my wife,” James puts his hand up, “alright, so let me goddamn explain this to her.”

A few shrugs but no real response. Yelena pours the water that sounds like a tidal wave to you. James stands behind the armchair as he watches you.

“Look, this isn’t easy so I will be entirely clear. That… wolf you saw last night was Yelena, that woman there. And the other, if you recall, that…” his throat bobs, “was me. And these others, Kraven,” he gestures to the bare-chested man, “Adam,” the tall blond, “and Steve,” the man with the dark swoop of hair, “are the same. All cursed. Like me and now, you.”

“What–”

“I had to… you would die if I didn’t–”

You look at the ceiling, searching as your heart flutters. You don’t understand. It’s somehow not as bad yet worse than what you feared. He’s not cheating but he lied to you all the same. And now… if he had just told you, you wouldn’t have come. But would you have believed him?

Your eyes fall upon the metal-moon hung on the wall, the long arms marking the phases of the moon. Last night was a full moon…

“You’re…”

“A monster,” James confirms, “I’m very sorry. I couldn’t tell you. Maybe I should’ve tried…” he sighs and sits again, taking your hand, “I won’t ask forgiveness, it is entirely selfish to put this on you, but you will not be alone. Or judged. We only do what we must to survive.”

“What you must… you…”

“There are simple rules. When the moon is full, you’ll change. You can’t stop it but you must heed it. If you do not feed by sunrise,” he pauses and takes a breath. Yelena approaches with a mug and you take it dumbly, unsure what else to do, “then you die. It’s us or them.”

Your eyes gloss and you shake your head. What does that mean? You know, but…

“Last night…” you eke out.

“It wasn’t much,” he squeezes your free hand, “enough to keep you alive. With me.” 

He has the sense to look mortified. You wiggle your hand free and turn your head. You can’t look at him. It’s not just what he’s done to you, but the thought of what he’s done to others, and what he’ll continue to do. What he wants you to do. What you have to do.

You swallow and stare at the black depths of your coffee. You feel your audience watching you. These beasts.

“I want to go home,” you murmur.

“Alright, I’ll take you…” he agrees softly.

“Now,” you demand, “away from these monsters.”

“Ha, you’re one of us–” Kraven begins.

“Shut up,” Adam barks at him, “James, we understand. Take her home. You are always welcome for the moon.”

“Wow, dinner and a show,” Steve snickers, “pretty good night if you ask me.”

Their casual attitudes are callous in your ears. Is this what you’ll become? Apathetic? Inhuman?

Last night, you were ready to do anything to keep your husband. You were even going to forgive him for straying from your marriage. But this, you don’t know if you can ever get past this.

[ramp-it-up]

My Favorite Things

Paring: Ari Levinson x Plus Size!Reader

Summary: Ari is your best friend in town. Could he be a little more?

Warnings: 18+ As always, MINORS DNI, SMUT, RPF. Not Beta’d. All mistakes my own. Age gap: Ari is 40 and Reader is 28. Pining, teasing, drinking, a lil bit of Angst, hints of family drama/trauma at the holidays, friends to lovers, body comparison issues, tit worship/nipple play, hair kink, slight pain kink, tiny bit of a Daddy kink, begging kink, ripped panties, p in v, raw sex (wrap it when you tap it), begging, bukkake? cum play

A/N: This is for #DJ’sAllIWant4KChristmas and based on this ask and this very detailed one!

I no longer operate a taglist. Follow @rampitupandread to be notified when I post.

I Do NOT consent to my work being reposted, translated or presented on any other blog or site other than by myself.

It was Christmas Eve and Ari was missing you after only two days. The gym was open until noon and Bobby and the other trainer, Mitchell, jumped at the chance for overtime.

Many of their clients wanted an excuse to eat more at Christmas dinner. Ari shook his head. People went to great lengths to not feel guilty about everything, including celebrations. 

As a result, you were missed by your personal training clients today, but you deserved the time off to visit family for the holidays, you were the hardest working trainer at RSDR Training, aside from Ari.

Ari checked his phone and realized that he hadn’t had any word from you. He debated texting; you were a grown woman, after all, but he was worried so he did it.

After thirty minutes and no response, he called you.

In your living room, you stared at the call and watched the time as you waited for it to stop ringing. 10:37 am. You just wanted to stay on the couch all day eating cheese puffs and sleeping. Fuck the holidays.

You breathed a sigh of relief when the phone stopped, pulled your weighted blanket over you head and continued to wish for sleep and/or oblivion.

But your mind, which was drowning in negative thoughts, could not stay sunk as you thought of Ari calling you. He was your best friend in the city and had been nothing but supportive of you over the last eight months of working together.

Your heart beat faster, and thoughts of his smile would not let you continue to wallow in your feelings.

You sat up, sighed, and dialed him back.

“Kitten?”

“Ari? Hey, yeah. I saw that you called.”

Ari didn’t know that he was holding his breath until he heard your voice and exhaled.

“I did. I was just checking on you. You said you’d send me a text when you got home, and pics?”

There was an awkward silence. Ari felt dumb. You were probably too busy celebrating to worry about him.

“Sorry to interrupt your good time. I’ll let you go…”

“Ari, wait. I’m… not in Philly. My mom called while I was on the way to the train station. She got back her ex and told me they were going to Aspen for the holiday with his family instead.”

“That sucks.” 

Ari knew that your relationship with your mother was strained because of your step father, but that’s about all he knew.

“Yeah. She invited me, but I'm not going anywhere he is. I thought she was finally going to leave him.”

“Wow. I’m sorry, Kitten.”

Ari felt the gut punch for you.  And you had just broken up with that joker Patrick last month. You had to be lonely.

“So… what are you doing tonight?”

You couldn’t help but smile into the phone. Ari always tried to cheer you up.

“Nothing. Riding the couch. Eating junk.”

You picked up a half spilled bag of Cheetos.

Ari cleared his throat at the thought of you riding anything.

“Well, get off the couch. We’re coming over to celebrate with you.”

“Ari…”

“We’ll bring food from Little Bangkok…”

“But…”

“Don’t want to hear another word. We’ll bring everything.”

You stopped trying to argue. Attempting to stop Ari when he was on a mission was impossible. He would find a way around any obstacle. 

“Ok…”

“That’s my girl! We'll be there as soon as possible.”

You didn’t know why you were smiling when you hung up the phone. Maybe it was because Ari called you his girl. But that wasn’t a big deal. You were buddies. He was your boy.

But then you looked around your studio apartment. It was a mess. You needed to clean up. You should have time to do a quick sweep and shower before Ari closed up shop at noon…

An hour and a half later, you were in the shower when you thought you heard a noise. You turned off the water to hear someone knocking on your door. You picked up your phone and saw that it was just 12:15. It couldn’t be them. 

Not yet.

You got in your robe and padded out to the living room. You looked out of the peephole to see… Ari and crew. You sighed and opened the door.

The door swung open and there you were, your wet curves barely contained by your robe and your braids in your giant shower cap. Your cleavage was so delectable and the startled look on your face made Ari want to…

“Ari? You’re here early. I thought you wouldn’t be here until later.”

Ari just stood there, blocking everyone’s view of you, his eyes sliding down your body. You remembered that you were naked under your robe and pulled your robe closed, but not before you caught Ari’s look. You bit your lip as you covered up.

“Um… I was in the shower. Didn’t expect you for another hour.”

Bobby was trying to look over Ari’s shoulder and Mitch complained that he wanted to set the bags down. His girlfriend, Trixie, was right behind him.

“We closed an hour early.” 

His voice seemed gruff and his eyes took you in again. 

“You getting sick, Ari?” 

The way you cocked your head at him made him clear his throat.

“No, just.. It was cold outside.”

 He had to suck it up.

“You need to wear a scarf.”

You were always harping on him to cover up. You were about the only one who cared for him, he always ended up caring for everyone else. That’s why he loved you. 

As a friend of course.

You weren’t the conventional personal trainer per the BMI charts. Your hourglass shape was bounteous, but Ari felt every curve and part of you was absolutely necessary. For you, for the clients to see that heath came in all shapes and sizes… and for him.

Working with you for the last eight months had been fun, to say the least.

You were his physical ideal, but you didn’t know that. Bobby always made sure to point out Ari’s exes to you and none of them had your body type. That was one reason why they were exes.

“You might wanna… go….”

Ari gestured to your body, making you feel some kind of way. His eyes were still sweeping over you with possession as he stayed in the doorway. A thrill ran up your spine before you responded to the underhanded command.

“Shit. Yeah. Come in.” 

You stood on tip toe to see over Ari’s broad shoulder to welcome your guests. 

“Make yourselves at home.”

You toppled into Ari and his hands came up to your waist to steady you. You giggled as you crashed into him.

“My bad. Extra ‘cause I’m wet. I’m dripping all over you.”

“THATS WHAT SHE SAID!!!” screamed Trixie as everyone laughed as they entered your small place. 

Ari was paralyzed because that scenario was highly desirable. And the feel of you in his hands was...

He had to snap out of it. You just didn’t see him that way. He was too old for you, and was probably definitely not your type. But he couldn’t help but stare at your unfettered ass under your robe. His throat was suddenly dry.

You caught Ari’s look and hurried to your bedroom alcove. Once there, the curtain closed, you took a deep breath. Ari had you open. But you had to deal with it. He was just a friend.

By the time you came out, Your place was decorated for the holiday; they even had a small table top tree and presents. 

You smiled big at your friends and gave everyone a hug, ending with Ari.

“I can’t believe you did all this, for me. I didn’t get you all presents.”

“That’s okay!” 

“No problem.”

“Don’t worry about it.”

Everyone was so nice.

Your face at that moment was everything to Ari.

“For you, Anything.”

You two just stared at each other.

“I would throw up, but I haven’t eaten yet.”

You laughed.

“Sorry. I’m out of sorts today. But you all will get me right? Right?”

“Yep! Shots all around.’

Mitch had the fireball ready.

“Oh shit. That stuff’s terrible,” you laughed.

“Let’s go, let me get some glasses.”

You went for the shot glasses in the cabinet. Ari, as well as everyone else, admired you in your red Christmas sweater and red plaid leggings. When your sweater rose up to show your ass beneath your braids was when Ari thought he would have a heart attack. He moved toward you.

“Need some help, short stuff?”

He was right next to you, sharing his body heat. So why did you shiver and stand speechless beside him looking up at him under your lashes? You were acting like a damsel in distress. You frowned and turned away to catch your breath.

Ari watched you grimace and turn toward the sink. What had he done? He shouldn’t have called you short.

“Here they are!” 

You put five shot glasses on the counter. 

“Now gimme!”

Mitchell poured and you reached for a glass to knock it back. You put it down for another.

“Careful…” said Ari, as he watched you drinking.

“You need to eat something with that.”

He was getting the food out of the bags.

“Thanks, Dad,” you joked.

You kissed him on the cheek as you stood there with your plate, ready for him to serve you. Ari had the urge to take you over his knee right then.

“Yeak, Daddy, thanks for being the killjoy as usual.”

“Oh hush, Bobby, it was Ari’s idea for this party. He’s the hero tonight!”

You put one of the crowns that Trixie had brought on Ari’s head.

“He’s the king.”

You winked as you stood close to him, your breasts barely brushing him as you crowned him. It caused Ari to clench his jaw to hold back. You were so fucking hot.

For the rest of the night, Ari kept his distance, watching you have fun and celebrate without getting that close to you again. He couldn’t ruin the friendship.

You only had a few more shots, but Ari kept handing you plates of food so that you wouldn’t get too tipsy. But you were loose and flirty with everyone. It was a good time.

Around 6, everyone left, having other celebrations to go to. You were warm and full of cheer and wished everyone a Merry Christmas at the door. Ari was the only person left in your home, cleaning up in the kitchen.

“Hey, Sir. You don’t have to do that, you know. You’ve done so much today.”

Ari chuckled as he finished the last dish in the sink.

“I know. I don’t have to. But I wanted to. Like I said. Anything for you.”

Ari turned around from the sink and leaned up against it. You shoved a blue paper wrapped box into his hands and saw the look of surprise on his face.

“I thought you said…”

“I didn’t get everyone else a gift. Just you. You’re my bestie. Happy Hanukkah, Ari. Chag sameach...”

Ari looked at you for a long time, something unreadable in his eyes. 

“Chag sameach.”

You watched as Ari lifted out a fine light blue cashmere scarf. Suddenly, it clicked.

“Wow. It matches your eyes…”

You wondered how many colors of blue were in Ari’s eyes, and why you hadn’t noticed this particular shade before now. And you wondered why you picked out that color scarf. You had to have it for him when you saw it. There must have been something in your subconscious that caused you to pick that color.

Your heart was beating erratically as you took the scarf from him and stood on tiptoes to drape it around his neck and making him bend close to you again.

“Kitten...”

You interrupted Ari, attempting to keep up the conversation before you did anything stupid, but not letting go of the scarf and keeping the proximity with him that you’d created.

“I’ve been meaning to ask you, why do you call me that? Is it because I’m like a feral cat that just showed up on your doorstep?”

Your voice was husky now, and you were lost deep in the pools of his eyes.

Ari chuckled and looked down at your lips.

“Yeah, something like that.”

That wasn’t the truth. Ari didn’t like cats. Cats that crossed his path always hissed and tried to scratch, but he ended up loving the ones that stuck around. His sister’s cat, Murray, the alley cat that turned out to be an escaped bodega cat from two blocks over. Just like them, you’d clawed your way into his heart, and you wouldn’t let go.

You looked deep into those blue eyes and were drawn in. You slotted yourself in between Ari’s legs and sensed that he put the box down beside him on the counter. His hands came up around your waist and you pulled on the scarf to make him bend down more as you leaned up on your toes to give him a sweet, short kiss that could have been construed as chaste. 

You leaned back and huffed as Ari licked his lips.

“Taste good. Can I have another?”

You nodded almost imperceptibly, and Ari pulled you in closer and lowered his lips again, tongue probing for you to open your mouth. You granted him access and he established that he owned you with just  a few swipes of his tongue.

You leaned into him, pressing yourself against him as his hands pulled you even closer. You could feel the excitement between his legs, pressing into your stomach. What was happening between yours was the perfect compliment to his large bulge.

You separated again, breathing hard, looking down at your hands which held the scarf balled inside your fists. Then you dared to look up at him.

“Damn Ari, you know how to give a kiss.”

Ari pulled you even closer.

“Been wanting to do that to you for so long. I’m glad it’s finally done.”

“Really?”

Ari smiled at you. 

“Really.”

“But I thought we were…just….”

Ari swooped down and kissed you again. This time making your toes curl. You whimpered in the back of your throat.

“...Friends….”

Your hands had let go of the death grip on the scarf and was smoothing it on his chest, inadvertently brushing his hard nipples.

Ari spoke, his voice gruff and deep again.

“So you want me to go?”

He didn’t move to let go of you, or to hide his growing arousal. You considered his unfairly handsome face and those lips and made your decision.

“Don’t go. Stay with me.”

“Stay? Stay and do what?”

“....Talk. Yes. Let’s talk.”

Ari sighed and gradually let go of you, and you of the scarf. You slowly backed away from him, slightly dizzy.

“Want a drink?”

You turned to get some glasses. Ari watched your ass and those hypnotizing braids of yours.

“Want a drink of you.”

You turned and looked at him over your shoulder and smiled. Then you shook your head.

“Ari… you don’t … I’m not even your type…”

You poured some bourbon into the glasses. You mixed yours with coke.

“And what is my type?”

Ari raised his eyebrow as he drank, and when he licked his lips, you almost swooned. You tried to escape into the living room, but of course, he followed you.

“Well… one of those sexy, hot, tight body types, like Mrs. Ashborne. Bobby told me that you and she… y’ know.”

You looked at him over your glass as his eyes flashed.

“Bobby’s got a big fucking mouth.” 

He took a swig and then set his glass down on the coffee table as he sat next to you on the couch.

“That was nothing. I was pent up and horny, and she was practically throwing it at me. She served a purpose. But she’s not really my type. Men can be very weak, Kitten.”

“Ah, so it is true that all men cheat.”

Ari shook his head, and moved closer.

“Not what I said. I said men can be weak, but if they have a someone worth keeping, they can be very true.”

You created a barrier between you by taking another sip of your drink.

“So, why were you pent up and horny, Ari?”

Bobby had pointed out Mrs. Ashborne shortly after you’d started working as RSDR.

Ari’s eyes raked down your body and stopped at your sweater. Your tits were staring straight at him. 

“Well. We had just hired a new trainer, and she was so hot that I was having wet dreams about her every night. I knew I was too old for her and that she only thought of me as a friend so… I hadn’t learned how to deal with that then.”

Your eyes widened.

“Shit, Ari…” 

You put down your drink. 

“You’re not too old… you’re only… how old are you again?”

You knew exactly how old he was, you had helped plan his birthday party in the summer, but Ari played along as he moved even closer to you.

“40, Kitten. I’m 40. And you’re only 28.”

‘Oh shit. You are old.”

Ari laughed.

“Fuck you, Kitten.”

You just smiled and let what he said sink in. You looked up, pretending to think.

“28 is the age of a full grown woman.”

“I could be your…”

“Next door neighbor that I have a crush on? A dilf?”

Ari smirked at you.

“You got a crush on me? A dad you’d like to fuck? But I don’t have any kids.”

“You could be Daddy.”

You watched his eyes dilate.

“Fuck, Kitten.”

“You keep saying that. But we’re friends. You are very hot, Ari. That’s why Rowena was throwing it at you. And that’s why she keeps trying so hard everytime she comes in. She wants that dick again. Must have been good.”

Ari dodged the essential question.

“Has she been back in? I hadn’t noticed.”

“Mmmmmhmmmm Ari. You know good and well she's been back in. She asks you for extra towels every time.”

Ari was busy eyeing your breasts, which he was sure sported two very erect nipples. He wondered what your areolas looked like. He licked his lips.

“Oh?” He replied, totally distracted.

You laughed. 

“You totally ignored her, and my question about that dick. Is it as good as Rowena thinks? Tell me the truth. Friend to friend.”

Ari looked into your eyes. He wanted you. 

“Who cares what Rowena thinks? You’d have to judge for yourself. Friend to friend.”

He was so damn sexy. You decided you wanted to play. You smoothed your hand down your sweater.

“You see something you like?”

Ari nodded. His eyes swept your form and back to your face.

“I see everything I like.” 

He focused on your lips. His hair fell into his eyes and you reached up and brushed it back. He leaned over and kissed your wrist and you shivered.

“Can I have that sweet mouth again?”

You couldn’t resist and nodded, melting into him as he came for you again. 

While Ari possessed your soul with this mouth, his hands pulled you closer to him. He trailed one hand up your spine, making you shiver until his fist was in your hair, feeling the texture of your braids against his fingers until he reached your nape. Then, he took a handful and tugged gently, causing you to shudder and moan into his mouth.

Ari pulled back and drew a ragged breath. 

“You want to know about my dick. I want to know about your…” He surveyed you again. “... Everything. I’ll show you mine if you show me yours.”

You smiled and then bit your lip, stifling a laugh.

“Deal.”

You stood up and pulled off your sweater, bringing it over your head and pulling your braids through. Ari looked up at you from the couch and could have cried at your sheer lace bra that hinted at the breasts he’d been dreaming of.

He looked down to your crotch and wanted to bury his nose in it, but he needed to be patient. You’d not given him permission, or better yet, begged for that yet.

He stood up to tower over you again, unbuttoning his blue chambray shirt and then pulling his t-shirt over his head. You stared at the beefy, hairy glory that was Ari Levinson before you. Then, you bent over toward him, making sure that he got a good view of your cleavage, and pulled your leggings down before you stepped out of them.

Ari ran his hand through his hair, and then unbuttoned his jeans, adjusting himself as he took them off. Your eyes widened at the huge tent in his boxers. It was Ari’s turn to stifle a laugh.

You gestured toward his crotch.

“Well, you aren’t showing me anything. That could be a roll of socks or something.”

Ari nodded toward your chest.

“You hiding grapefruit in there?”

“Funny boy.”

“Funny girl.”

“Ok, on the count of three.” 

Ari wanted to get to the good part. He put his thumbs in the waistband of his boxers.

 “One… two…”

You reached behind you with one hand ready to unclasp your bra. Your heart was beating a mile a minute.

“Three!”

You unsnapped your bra and Ari dropped his shorts. You shivered and hugged your self as you stared at the mammoth beast that your friend had been hiding. And was now pointing straight at you.

“Holy shit you’re so hot.”

Ari took you in shyly standing there staring at him. He had to have you.

“Do you like what you see, Kitten?”

“My god, Ari. I…” 

You were speechless.

“You still want to experience it?” 

Ari took a step toward you and you took a step back. 

“You good?”

You giggled nervously. 

“Yeah, I’m good. I want that.”

You pointed brazenly at his dick, and Ari looked down at it and smiled at you.

“You sure?”

He took another step and this time you didn’t move.

“Unhunh. What do you want, Ari?”

Ari waved at your whole body. 

“I want that.”

“Are you sure?”

“Definitely. Been daydreaming about it for months.”

You lids half closed as he closed the gap between you and put his rough palms on your sides.

“What… exactly… is… it?”

You sighed as his hands came up and weighed your breasts, thumbs caressing your nipples, thrumming and stretching them so that you were squirming before him. You looked in his eyes as he did it, and he held your gaze as he lowered his lips to one.

“Well, for one, I want to play with these…”

He rubbed his lips along your nipples, making your knees weak. He held you up as he started suckling you tenderly at first, and then with abandon as you moaned for him. You looked down and brushed his hair out of the way as he closed his eyes and sucked at you, his perfect lips pursed into bows as he pulled your inhibitions from you.

“Ariiiiiii”

He picked you up, turned around and sat back on the couch with you, straddling his boner, the only barrier between you the red lace of your panties. He finished ravishing your nipples for a moment and looked up at you.

“You don’t know how hot you are, do you?”

You shook your head as he chuckled. Then, his eyes darkened as he took your breasts in his hand. He deftly twisted your nipples as you ground your crotch into him, your wantoness obvious.

“I feel how wet you are, Kitten.  Do you want me too?”

Are looked you in the eyes as he started spanking your tits, making you jerk and putting you in shock that you liked it.

“Fuuuuckkkkk, Ariiiii!”

You arched right into his grip as he manhandled you. Then, he put his hand in your braids and massaged your scalp, sending you to nirvana.

“Fuck, Kitten, you look so fucking delicious. Do you taste so?”

Ari’s hand went from your breasts to your panties, and reached inside them for his long fingers to reach your dew.

“Shit, you’re so fucking wet!”

You nodded, as the slide along the rough texture of the lace was giving you some satisfaction. You jolted as Ari brought his fingers out and tasted you, relishing the flavor.

“So delicious, Kitten. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve dreamed of eating you out after a workout. Want to eat your sweaty pussy, baby.”

Oh shit, Ari was a freak. The jig was you were into it.

“Ohhhhhh.”

Ari tightened the hold on your hair, bending you back as he reached for your panties and tore a hole in them.

“Now’s the time to judge the quality of my dick Kitten.”

Ari lifted you up so that your thighs were on either side of his.

“You still want to?”

He still held your hair in a deliciously painful grip as he started sucking your nipples again. You just moaned and circled your hips in vain.

“You are in fact, dripping all over me again…”

“Fuck me, Ari… pleaseee.”

Your sexy moan and your fucked out face made Ari release your hair and pick you up by your thighs, biceps bulging as he easily took your full weight.

“Now, keep your eyes open Kitten.”

And he lowered you, slowly fucking you open on his cock. Your cunt stretched around his beautifully thick head and you keened.

“Yes, Ari, yessss! More, please, pleasepleasepleaseplease…”

You begged as Ari’s pounding member stretched you and slid his way into you. 

When you reached the bottom of his massive pole, you stared at him.

“Hi, Friend.”

Ari started pistoning his hips upward and the smile dropped from your face. You moved your hips in time, and Ari grabbed your hair again with his hand, and your nipple with his mouth. The free hand went to your clit, and soon you were clenching around him, cumming to beat the band. 

“Oh, shit, Ari. Daddy!”

“Fuck! That’s a lot better than ‘Friend.”

Ari started pounding inside you, and then again lifted you up.

“No….” You whined, “No Ari…”

“Shhhhittttttttt!”

Ari relented and dropped you on his dick, giving you a few more pumps, Then, pulled you off again and started jacking his cock. You scrambled to your knees and took his hot load on your face as he panted, moaned, and cursed.

“Nnnnnghhhgnnn. Fucking hell, so fucking beautiful, godamn…”

He aimed some on your tits and you laughed as the hot spray dripped all over you.

“That wasn’t very friendly”

You sat back on your knees and looked up at him as you played in his cum. Ari collapsed on the couch as he watched you and his dick started perking up again. He chuckled.

“No.” Ari panted. “No it wasn’t.” 

He admired you and sat up to draw his cum around your areola.

“How was the dick?”

“Pretty bomb. But I think I need more data. You know, a larger sample size.”

You gave him a filthy kiss and got up, turned around, and walked toward your shower. Ari couldn’t help but follow. He eyed your ass and licked his lips.

“Me too, Kitten. Me too. This might take until Christmas morning.”

Reblog if it’s hot. 🥵

[crimeronan]

hey what is wwaitsoatl?

oh! it's what we are is the sum of a thousand lies, my most popular toh fic by FAR and the thing most toh people here started following me for. back before i got sucked down the princess luz hyperfixation rabbit hole. it's a fic that takes more work to write than any of my others because it has an incredibly involved drafting & editing process. bc i am a perfectionist.

the premise is a canon divergent timeline wherein belos suspects that hunter lied to him at the end of hunting palismen. and completely wrecks hunter's shit forever. and infects him with curse goop in the process. and darius (who, Very Importantly, does not yet have a friendly rapport with hunter) trips over the kid's half-dead body.

and freaks.

and kidnaps hunter n takes him to the owl house. bc that's the one surefire place of refuge on the isles.

there are a bunch of emotional threads, hence why it's novel-length and not even finished yet despite being about just four characters chilling in a house together.

mainly it's about:

hunter unraveling his cognitive dissonance and cult brainwashing in an AU where he doesn't have all of hollow mind's answers; his feelings are Incredibly complicated and messy & he gets incredibly mean and snarly about it

darius grappling with the fact that his own grief and resentment blinded him to a kid who Very Much Needed Him, darius dealing with the fact that actually he never DID grieve his mentor or his mentor's dead family

darius and hunter developing a rapport in a timeline where hunter very much has Not broken out of all the cop shit that darius disdains So Much. so darius is so fucking exasperated and tired all the time

eda trying desperately to help hunter learn to live with a curse / chronic pain / chronic illness, while having very little faith in herself to begin with

luz feeling Horrifically guilty about hunter's curse and injuries, bc she thinks she should have clocked the abuse and brought him home with her or otherwise stopped it

hunter developing an almost immediate and pathological emotional attachment to luz because of her kindness, which complicates all of his complicated feelings WAAAAAY MORE

eda, darius, AND luz all desperately trying to get hunter to admit that he's been abused and that what happened wasn't his fault. you would not believe how fucking long it takes.

i'm actually really, really, Really proud of it -- it's rare for one of a writer's best works to be their most popular, but this genuinely is one of mine. if not my best work, period. there's a lot of nuance and messiness and emotional complexity and grief and arguing that i'm SO happy with.

also, despite the subject matter, it's often extremely lighthearted. some of the funniest dialogue i've ever written is strewn throughout all these serious emotional threads.

i'd apologize for how long this response is but this story is a heart project and has 67,000 published words on ao3 so far. (the chapter i'm writing rn will likely be another ~8,000 words, then there are a couple more chapters to come.) so there's a lot to say!!

it's my most popular ao3 fic for any fandom, ever, in the 12 years i've been on the site. the response has been WILD. if you sort by kudos, it's the 31st most favorited owl house fic Of All Time, the 7th most popular fic involving darius, and the 5TH most popular hunter & luz relationship fic. again, of all time. which is. insane.

people have been very kind and patient with me having been too sick to work on it for a while. there was a seven-month break between chapters 8 and 9, and if i finish chapter ten soon then there'll have been a nine-month break between chapters 9 and 10. so i don't know how many people are actually going to come back to read it, a lot of ppl have moved on from the fandom and such. but i'm extremely extremely extremely grateful to everyone who's given it a look!

[thecinderninja]

A God in Two Parts

On Ao3 as The_Cinderninja

Barbatos is an incomplete god.

He exists in two planes, both living and dead. A god torn in half, a foot in two worlds. The living and the dead rarely meet;

He is only complete when they do.

There is no easy way to say it.

No words to adequately express the depth of what he means, without it sounding… bad.

Which is why Venti can’t help but feel guilty any time the passing thought crosses his mind; he really enjoys guiding the spirits of Mond.

It is one of his favourite job duties.

One of the few he always takes seriously, and never shies away from.

Obviously, it’s a complicated situation. No one would imagine for even a minute that the god thinking; “I really enjoy this part of my job” could in any way equate to “I really enjoy when my people die.” Of course not.

But sometimes he equates those two things.

After all… it simply isn’t right to ever feel that sense of relief at the feeling of a Child of Mond flickering out. He knows that. (He knows that).

It wouldn’t be as bad if he could say it was for entirely unselfish reasons.

If he could simply say; I feel a deep sense of peace when I guide those souls onward, knowing they’ve passed on to their own peace.

If he could simply say; I feel a sense of honour when they see me, and their fear fades, and they smile , and they thank me.

If he could simply say; I feel a sense of responsibility for the little ones, the true children , who seem so lost and scared, when they willingly take my hand and look up to me, and follow where I lead.

All of these facts are true. And they do not take away at all from the grief he felt at each loss. 

But really, his guilt stems from the fact that one selfish reason exists. All of these other reasons, perfectly valid in their own rights, mean nothing to him in the face of the fact that there is one selfish reason he looks forward to ferrying the dead.

One selfish reason that can not possibly justify the tiny thrill in his heart when he feels a soul call out on the wind.

The death of a Child of Mond means a meeting of two worlds. The living and the dead cross paths for one short moment.

Barbatos is at his most complete in these moments.

Though none in Mond know it - it is a story has never been told in the first place, has never existed to be later forgotten in time - Barbatos is an incomplete god.

He exists in two planes, both living and dead. A god torn in half, a foot in two worlds. The living and the dead rarely meet;

He is only complete when they do.

.

Venti picks his way down a long unused dirt trail outside of Springvale, breathing softly despite the strenuous trek, unaffected. The path is overgrown with wild grasses and encroaching bushes, clearly unmaintained, abandoned for many years. What a child was doing out here he couldn’t imagine.

A child of adventurers; curious, adventurous, fearless.

The sun hangs low in the sky, casting long shadows.

He reaches the edge of a ravine - the drop is sudden and well hidden by the foliage. He doesn’t want to disturb the earth here, so rather than climb or slide down the soil, he simply steps off the edge and glides to the bottom.

A simple descent into the secluded hollow below, where the air is thick with the scent of damp earth and foliage. Here, the trees close in, their branches weaving a canopy that filters the sunlight into a gentle, dappled glow.

The body of a young girl lays on the ground. Her limbs are splayed awkwardly, her face pale and serene in the stillness of death. She fell from the edge of the ravine. The wind had tried to soften her fall, but it could only do so much when she didn't have a wind glider. (And often, "so much" is never enough).

There are two spirits in the clearing. The spirit of the young girl sits near her earthly remains. She is confused and a little distressed, her form flickering like a candle flame caught in a draught. Her eyes, wide and searching, take in the scene with a dawning awareness that something is terribly wrong.

Beside her kneels a boy. With dark hair and light eyes, his form more composed, a bard of old. He is smiling softly as he speaks to her; “-in time, but not now.” He wipes a tear from her face as her lower lip trembles.

“But… I want to see dad now. He can make everything better…”

The boy laughs softly. “He is away on an adventure, no? And so are you, now. You undertook such a grand adventure, won’t you see it to the end?”

She holds his hand tightly. “It was fun at first, but I’m scared now… I’d like to go home.”

“Ah… I understand. Adventures can be scary, can’t they? But you don’t need to do it alone. I may not be your dada, but I will-”

Venti lands in the hollow, his presence immediately noted by the spirits. The boy looks up, his eyes meeting Venti's with soft sympathy, and painful familiarity. The girl, sensing a shift, turns her gaze towards Venti, her confusion deepening.

"Who are you?" she asks, her voice a whisper on the wind.

The boy stands, bringing the girl up by her hand to stand beside him. "This is Venti," he says with the warmest of smiles. Their eyes meet across the clearing, and he looks so happy . "The friend I was telling you about before. He’s going to help you.”

The girl looks at Venti, her eyes wide and hopeful. "I want to go home now," she says. "My adventure isn't fun anymore. I want to go back to my dad."

Venti kneels beside her, his expression tender. "I know," he says softly. "But you can't go back to your dad right now. You'll see him again in time, I promise. But right now, wouldn’t you like to see what lays at the end of your adventure?" 

The girl shakes her head, tears brimming in her eyes. "It's scary," she whispers. "I don't like it anymore."

The spirit beside her reaches out again to brush away more of her tears. "All adventures get scary sometimes," he explains gently. "Or else they wouldn't be real adventures. But you won't be alone. I'll go with you."

The girl's expression softens a bit, relief washing over her. "You'll come with me?"

The bard smiles as he nods, but his eyes reflect a deep sorrow. "Yes," he says gently. "I'll go with you. I know it can be scary to be alone, but I promise you have nothing to be afraid of."

The girl looks up at Venti, her eyes wide with hope. "Will you come too?"

Venti can only shake his head, his heart aching. "No," he says softly. "I can't come."

"But why not?" she asks, voice confused, sad, almost petulant. "The two of you are friends, so why can't you both come with me?” She turns from Venti to look at the bard. “If we leave him behind, then he will be lonely."

Venti is too surprised to have an answer for her. She is right. She is right, but he can't tell her she’s right. The little girl looks even sadder, and it's his job to make her feel better, not worse. It's his job to bring her peace, even if she's right and he is sad. Lonely.

The bard takes a deep breath and steps in to explain. "Venti is staying behind to tell your dad where you've gone," he says gently. "So that he can find you again when the time comes."

"Oh," the girl says, her expression lightening a bit. "Okay. That makes sense."

The tension eases slightly, the girl's acceptance bringing a measure of peace to the clearing. Venti and the bard exchange a brief, knowing glance.

The two boys hold hands.

The two boys hold hands .

It is the most they ever have. Simultaneously so much and never, never enough.

Their fingers intertwine. They stand in the clearing beneath the weight of their shared duty. For a minute, they are both silent, longing to speak to each other, but knowing it will never be appropriate to sit and talk with a lost spirit between them. 

This is the only way they ever meet.

All they can do is hold hands as they guide the deceased, acting as though they are both alright and swallowing their own words. They have so much they want to say, but all they can do is grip each other's hand tightly, silently conveying those feelings; I'm here. I've been here all this time. I'll remain here far into the future. Eventually, eventually . Always a promise for something later.

(Eventually, when?)

(Eventually, what?)

They ask the girl to take their hands as well. She reaches out, taking one of each of their hands in her own, her small fingers curling trustingly around theirs. 

The girl looks at Venti, her eyes wide with fear and hope. "Thank you," she whispers.

Venti nods, his smile gentle and reassuring. "You're welcome," he replies. "Now, close your eyes and let go. Everything will be alright."

Venti and the bard summon their winds, a warm breeze rising up around them.

Only when the warm winds envelop them does the girl truly recognize them both; Barbatos . Her eyes fly open, wide in awe as the winds lift her spirit, carrying her gently toward the other side.

Venti and the bard watch each other fade away as their task is completed. Venti remains behind on the side of life, while the bard goes with the girl on the side of death. Their eyes meet briefly.

Venti is alone in an empty clearing beside the body of a child.

A child of Mondstadt he could not save. 

Her spirit is out of his hands now. It’s a bittersweet feeling. He knows she’s safe, to the greatest extent she can be. He knows she’s at peace. He knows she is with him , and that he won’t let any further suffering befall her.

None of that will mean anything to her father.

He’s completed his duty, and is left with the familiar aching hollowness it leaves behind. 

The fall after the high.

The feeling of a hand in his own; and the horror of clinging to the bard more tightly than the child.

The guilt that comes after. The fact that a child needed to die for him to have that brief moment.

How often does he ask himself; could he have done more? Could he have saved her? Did he let her fall? Just to see his friend? 

He is certain he did not. He would never. 

He would never.

He may be half of a god, but humans die . This is a fact, and he cannot change it. It is not his fault when they do.

(But… sometimes? Surely there are moments he could have done more, and hesitated).

Venti is long gone by the time the winds guide the searchers to the body.

[nerdthatsiriuslylovesteaxx]

Helpless part 52 I don't want to die young

"I- I need to speak with Chiron."

"Can't you see we're trying to play poker over here?" Mr. D had answered,

"What has happened William?"

"It's... about Nico..."

"Come, let's walk." He felt guilty doing this, he knew it was the right thing but it felt wrong, it felt like a betrayal.

"You... you know he's been in the infirmary a lot?"

"Side effects form the war, I'm presuming." They were inside the forest, travelling through familiar routes, this one, Will knew. It lead to a lake if you knew where you were trying to get to.

"Partially, the magical stuff yes but two of the times-" He took a breathe before continuing, no matter how many patients he'd had for the same reason he'd never told Chiron, they all asked him not to and it had never gotten to the point where they were in emergency care. "-it was himself, first time with- cuts, last night Jason found him passed out, trying to drink himself to death." He choked back tears, trying to remain neutral was the best option.

"How is his condition now?"

"We're unsure whether he'll wake up, he- he's probably going to be in a coma for a while." He hated that it was true, he hated the chance that he wouldn't, he hated that he had to say all of this.

"You don't want to be telling me this." His voice, the same calm, still, voice that left you doubting the next response.

"I- it's- he- he didn't want you to know, I feel like I'm betraying him."

"I see, is this the first case?" It wouldn't be a good idea lying to him, he knew that, but he also knew that he'd have to tell him things he'd been dreading to say.

"Not even close, I've had at least seven, sadly-" Another breath, this was going to be fine. "-I've seen so many dead with a note because I never knew they needed help, and neither did anyone else." He looked off, Will tried reading his expression but it was pointless, it was as if the mist was covering his face, hiding every single detail.

"I would hope you're still regularly checking in with said patients? Making sure it hasn't been continuing, helping if it has and even if it hasn't being there as perhaps not a therapist but... more a concerned friend?"

"Y-yes I've been doing that, I've sometimes kept people in the infirmary but I can only do that if they're being a danger to themselves and there limit of a week." He held his breath between every sentence, it was breaking him to say all of this but he had to keep himself calm.

"We'll be changing those as quickly as possible, you're entitled to keep anyone in for as long as you feel like they need help however you still need either their consent or a guardians." Will nodded, he'd not asked him for a list yet, this was going as well as it could. "Do you have anyone for people to talk to before things escalate?"

"Yes but- most people don't come before that, even less come willingly; people are too scared to ask for help on their own. We've tried to advertise it more however it's never really done much, no one wants to reach out no matter how much they need help."

"Could you please inform me of who these people were?" Too many, too many people are hurt, too many people deserved better, too many people have had lives so hard you can't blame them for wanting to end it.

"It's confidential." Leo, Annabeth, Percy, Selina, Nico, the list went on.

"I need to know who to keep an eye on."

"I've been doing that, half of them died in battle or suicide so they don't really affect you." He snapped, shit, no, he needs to watch his tone. He dreaded what the look on Chiron's face would be yet he was treated with the same, calm, blank expression that had been resting on his face the entire time.

"I can be sure you're taking care of them? Weekly to monthly therapy depending on how much they need it? Keeping them in if required?"

"You can count on me." Because he was meant to be the stable one.

***