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#kind of got possessed here
pinkwhalepjs · 1 year
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I LOVE that the collapse of several character relationships this episode comes down to class at the heart of things. The three who were born small folk have infinitely less agency in their own lives. They rise and fall at the whims of the powerful people they serve.
Amangeaux may see Karna as a daughter figure but as she begs her to let her go Karna can clearly see that her biological son is infinitely more important to Amangeaux than Karna could ever be. Amangeaux doesn’t want to play at being queen anymore and it is Karna who must suffer for it. She then attaches herself to Senator Ariana Gemelli and then again to Delissandro. She is dependent on them and lives ultimately at their whim. She may even love Deli but she must know that their relationship can never truly be one of equals. It is part of the tragedy of her character that she seems to always to some extent yearn for those she serves, admiring and caring for them in a way that is unlikely to be returned in full. And even more so that she seems an unwilling servant of the Hungry One who takes of her flesh in return for power and continued life. Unfortunately a good parallel for her relationships to her fellow mortals.
And this is what breaks apart Collin and Deli too. Collin was born to live in fear of what high born can do to those who cross them. He poignantly rebukes Deli that he does not doubt he will be a great leader of the Meatlands, but he is no leader Collin would swear to. He is a cruel and uncaring lord like the rest. He cares not for the innocent he condemns to death on his road to glory. Collin returns to the home of the man he killed because this life matters to him and he knows it does not to Delissandro even though he took it for his sake. Collin grows sick of being an instrument in the same sort of uncaring violence that killed his own family. He leaves behind the blades he swore in service to Delissandro. His anger is much quieter than Deli’s blusterous rage. It feels more directed at himself than at Deli. How could he have deluded himself into seeing this man as a friend and equal all these years? A man who doesn’t even know who he is after all those years by his side.
Raphaniel is the most scattered and broken because he began to think of himself as no longer a member of the small folk. But he forgot that he lives and dies at the mercy of his superiors still and that which is given him can just as easily if not far more easily be taken away. To gain power takes a lifetime but to lose it takes an instant. He scrambles again and again until it destroys his mind and body to gain some foothold of power or at least some sense that he serves some higher purpose but is met at every turn with empty sound. He was born cursed with visions of something terrible beyond but finds perhaps more horrible than the sense that there is something special wrong with him alone is the growing sense in his old age that his life and acts may in the end be meaningless entirely and when he dies he will leave behind just as little mark as any other poor born radish.
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phoenixcatch7 · 9 months
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In love with the idea of captain marvel being Billy's imaginary friend. Like, it'd be so easy. Early depictions had them as almost fully separate people sometimes, like one soul with two minds, rather than just two filters like we mostly see now.
But imagine a Billy down on his luck, hurt and hiding from police and criminals alike, daydreaming the hours away as children do, taking inspiration from all the superheroes rising to fame, making little stories to play out his dreams of saving the world with a generic action doll he found while dumpster diving once. Most of the paint's rubbed off.
Red's his favourite colour, his comfiest jumper is a bright ruby even after all the grime and washes. Gold, too, it's shiny and warmer than silver! A hero cape is a must, big and eye catching! And he can fly, of course, like superman, and in his daydreams, when he's sore and frustrated after a long day's grind, his superhero is smart enough and knows all the right words to get the bullies to stop without resorting to fighting.
His superhero fantasy is one he spends a lot of time on, the first one he goes for when struggling to sleep at night, and he can picture it so clearly. Captain marvel is big and bright and kind, strong enough to lift the boxes for the old lady up the road who's moving all by himself, fast enough to catch Jamie who fell out of the tree on Saturday and broke his leg and couldn't come to class for weeks. He appears at the entrance to alleys when Billy is cornered, he steps up behind to cover for him when he gets caught shoplifting, he sits at the bus stop with him when it's pouring rain and the right bus doesn't seem to be coming.
And then the wizard comes, or rather whisks him away, and like a magician from a fairytale breathes life into his imaginary friend until Billy feels thrice his size and a million times more invincible.
From then on, captain marvel is a real hero, just like Billy is a real boy, and as one they save the whole city, and then the whole world, and get cats down from trees and help Mrs Victoria move the last of her boxes and she gives them a pinch in the cheek and cookies for the road and sometimes it hurts but it's so much better than he imagined.
#dc comics#captain marvel#dc captain marvel#shazam#billy batson#imaginary friend#imaginary friend au#Billy's great because you can give him the most buck wild adventures with the most self indulgent plots and it makes perfect sense#Batman and superman are out here having mental health crisis no.528 and marvels away having dance offs with gnomes#Billy would fit perfectly into gravity falls he really would#Anyway imaginary friend au is near and dear because it encapsulates that sort of safe fantasy for change and companion ship#And a protective imaginary friend brought to life is going to be just a fascinating character no matter what#And it's the perfect cover for non imaginary cap anyway. Why does he prioritise this kid over everything despite having never mentioned him#Imaginary friends always have to care for their creator! But you can't expect an imaginary friend to do your taxes!#Why is cap so eternally kind and bubbly and a bit childish? That's because his creator is a kid! Duh!#This particular imaginary friend just so happens to have encountered magic and is now real enough to play basketball with asteroids.#He's strong enough to match superman but it's fine he's got a child's heart and an unending protectiveness for humanity.#Just don't try anything with the kid or you're toast.#I love the jl needing to save/help Billy in some way and cap; who's practically the jls puppy mascot at this point#Is just shamelessly and unrepentantly possessive of Billy while being openly wrapped around his finger. Number one fan#Like 'he's the specialist boy and if you don't clap for him I'm going to blow this whole building up' type#Have you read Split on ao3 it's like that. Cap is the most unaffiliated person on the team and then bam Billy is number 1 priority 100%#Go read split if you haven't 10/10#Like it never crosses caps mind to hinder or harm Billy he is Devoted. Platonic God/worshipper except the deity in question is an 11yo#And the worshipper is the closest thing to a deity without being one you can get in dc.#But like a healthy relationship lmao.#It's a soul deep claim with total freedom on both sides and they teach each other love and they're the same person#AUGH
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pearl-kite · 2 years
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Space demon? Space demon
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sneez · 10 months
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the other day i was looking through the drawings on my old laptop and found this self-portrait art challenge thing i did at some point several years ago, so i thought it would be interesting to update it with my current self for old times' sake :-) i don't know why i felt the need to be so mean to myself in all the descriptions but i have tried to be at least slightly nicer this time around. sorry past me [id under cut]
[id: a series of four full-body digital drawings of a pale-skinned person at different ages. the first three depict me in 2007, 2013, and 2017 under the heading 'George'; the fourth, in a different art style, depicts me in 2023 under the heading 'Ned (I changed my name)'.
the first drawing shows a young child with long hair wearing a fluffy pink jumper, a pink skirt, and pink shoes. bullet points above read:
annoying
copies other people constantly
draws cute animals
arrogant
cries when told off
maybe 1 friend
the second drawing shows a young teenager wearing a hoodie and trainers and looking uncomfortable. bullet points above read:
anxious
listens to Simon and Garfunkel exclusively
bad under pressure
anime
writes bad fanfiction
draws bad fanart
the third drawing shows a smiling teenager wearing a plaid shirt, jeans, and brown boots. bullet points above read:
what the HELL is a Self Esteem
really into 60s music
cries a lot
0 fashion sense
usually dissociating
thinkin about trees
the fourth drawing shows a young man with messy brown hair, a striped brown shirt, a beige woollen tank top, and burgundy plaid trousers; he is leaning on a wood-textured folding cane and holding the strap of a brown leather satchel with his other hand. bullet points above read:
still no self-esteem but medicated now
significantly worse handwriting (wrist knackered)
I haven't changed much to be honest
RBF so severe I get followed around by the security guards at the supermarket
autism
end id.]
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jichanxo · 3 months
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bitches will say "pride and prejudice kuwagami" half seriously and then get WAY too into drawing it
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artichow · 1 year
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rynnaaurelius · 2 years
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Hi! I went scrolling though your tumblr and stumbled upon one of your previous asks where you mentioned a carter-and-sadie-get-thrown-back-in-time au. I’d love to hear more of that!
Oh hell yeah let's do this. Mind, this AU is The Absolute Most at all times.
-Okay, so, first off, extremely obvious place for this to happen is at the end of The Serpent's Shadow, when they fail to banish Apophis for whatever reason during the final battle. This is a fun place, sure, but I think it's A, better for character development, and B, funnier, if they both bite it while in the Land of Demons with Zia and Setne. Let's say they both wind up in the Sea of Chaos, win the lottery spin of various universal outcomes, and boom. Time travel.
-This is totally how magic works. Uh-huh.
-Carter has a fucking aneurysm That's Not How The Force Works-style over this, trying to figure out what the fuck happened. It's great.
-Seriously, the PJO time travel thing is fun because Percy angsts and things go wrong and he tries to do everything Alone. The Kane Chronicles one is fun because Carter and Sadie have negative respect for authority, neither of them have any issue with throwing someone through a window to save time, and they both know about a dozen different ways to get it done.
-Oh yeah, speaking of throwing! They both wake up with massive headaches right after Julius explodes the Rosetta Stone. Carter stabs a bitch (Set) with a magic sword, then passes out because ~head trauma~.
-Also, bear in mind that these kids are fourteen and twelve and the House of Life just went to six years' worth of trouble to try and keep them as much out of the know as possible. And then they show up, kicking ass and taking godly names and knowing things that they really shouldn't, like they've been at this for years.
-Desjardins needs a drink. Or possibly six.
-Something something butterfly effect something something chaos. Anyway, things here are largely Their Past But Two Inches To The Right. Sometimes things change that are small but explainable, things that are big and inexplicable, and some are medium-sized and only resolved after an offhand comment from Zia a decade from now. The biggest thing here is Carter and Sadie struggling to manage everything.
-See, the fun thing in TKC is a lot of the big decisions? You can't just speedrun that shit! Re-opening the path of the gods is dangerous and takes time. Zia won't be in a spot where she's willing and/or able to take on Ra for years. Sadie can't just walk up to Walt and say that he should just merge with a god to fix all his problems when he's barely come to terms with Tut's curse.
-Fuck, they can't even go to the Duat and start shit with Apophis because. . .well, first off, they need to go and get the shadow, which they didn't even quite manage last time, because Setne and Land of the fucking Demons. Second off, no matter how powerful they are, starting shit with Apophis with an extra plan or two is pretty suicidal. Also! There are a lot of magicians who want to kill them! They need to be careful!
-Half of the gods are extremely freaked because Carter and Sadie's minds are Not Right and getting Horus and Isis to play ball is a chore, since they need that agreement do things like the combat avatar or casting really complicated spells, even if they have two-ish years of experience under their belts.
-This does not, to be clear, stop them from trying to speedrun The Red Pyramid, or this being their exact attitude towards their resident gods-in-the-head:
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[Picture ID: GIF of a Black man pointing two fingers at his eyes, staring at someone off-screen with a serious expression, and saying, "Look at me. . .look at me. I'm the captain now." End ID]
-Since. . .well, uh, look. Carter and Sadie are incredibly hyper-competent. But they're also incredibly freaked teenagers who haven't had serious adult supervision in. . .a while. They also the ability to warp reality, and have the respective jobs of: Future king of the universe and his sister, saving the world from the snake who wants to eat the sun, and re-opening an really dangerous path of magic that the Reigning Magic Organization has said they'll kill for doing.
-Also, all their friends no longer have a fucking clue who they are. Carter already did this song and dance with Zia, too, which is. . .huh. Fascinating neuroses forming there.
-The Kane siblings are very fun here, because Sadie is Very Loudly Not Fine about very mundane changes, but not saying a peep about the things that are actually fucking her up until someone taps her on the shoulder at the wrong moment when she's gone vacant-eyed at the sight of her gran and she flinches like she got punched in the jaw, while Carter is Insistently Just Fine until Jaz says hi to him one morning and he starts sobbing.
-Bast doesn't count as supervision either, because she's a cat god. Bast wants to shake them by the scruffs of their neck until they start acting their own ages or she gets a satisfactory explanation for what's taken residence in their heads. Their magical auras are wrong.
-About the only fun part of dealing with the gods is when Sadie sucker-punches Serqet and goes What, Like It's Hard?, Legally Blonde-style, to a very confused and unnerved Zia. This move is not something she can make a pattern of, to be clear. But it feels good and she can do it now, so she does.
-I have no idea if Amos is definitely still possessed here by Set, for the angsty comedy of Carter and Sadie repeatedly knocking him out and dragging him around until they have time to Deal With That, or if it's ambiguous and possibly actually in someone else? And they have to go Holmes and Watson on the case.
(Of course, they may have different gods themselves altogether, and goddammit, I need to stop coming up with AUs)
-Like, yeah, sure, they know Set is the problem, their dad is probably fine, but they have to explain this in such a way that people don't think they're possessed! This is a very valid concern and leads to worries that they're terrorizing their younger selves by stealing their bodies or something.
(they're not. but it's a Recurring Thing that people think that they've possessed Younger Carter And Sadie)
-Anyway, they still get dragged to the First Nome, because Julius broke half a dozen rules of magician-ing, these kids are acting. . .like they've been possessed by Horus and Isis, to be honest.
-Carter tries to warn Zia about the being-possesed-by-a-god thing before Iskandar tries to save her life and inadvertently consign her to Watery Nightmare Coma Hell, to convince her to come with them, and thinking honesty may be the best policy--Zia's pretty morally upright, and more than trustworthy and willing to trust the Kanes, after all.
-This does not go as Carter planned.
-Sadie, remembering Iskandar fucking dies and not wanting to deal with the complicated and short reign of Desjardins as Chief Lector (or the whole guilt thing about him dying and just. . .complicated. Inconvenient. Just make sure it never happens!) by giving him a boost in the health department and extending his life.
-This does not go as Sadie planned.
-Oh, and neither of them know how to convince Nephthys to play ball since neither of them know Set's name, so even though they know how to defeat him, short out of an out-and-out brawl that there's no guarantee they can win, they need to get that! And Anubis is super suspicious and not into getting bullied by Isis into giving them a Feather of Truth!
-On the bright side, they decide to pull the Carter Will One Day Be Pharaoh Card and convince Sobek to be, like, marginally useful as the pharaoh's enforcer after Sadie dropkicked Serqet into next week.
-Meanwhile, Iskandar is alive, but reluctantly all They Should Probably Be Brought In And Restrained At Minimum. Zia is contemplative and ends up pursuing Carter and Sadie on her own after her powers start going sideways and Iskandar nearly does knock her out.
-So now Zia's a fugitive. Sort of. Iskandar really doesn't want to do it, but Desjardins is doing the Godlings Must Die thing, and a lot of the First Nome is on his side.
(He lightens up after the Kane siblings + Zia manage to save the world and certain things about Sadie and Iskandar's health come to life. Marginally)
-Anyway, things are chaotic, sort of working out for the better, but Carter and Sadie are about fifteen times more traumatized than they were last time.
-Also, Jaz is canonically from Nashville, so I say that when they decide to drop by Thoth's place to try and get an idea of What The Fuck happened, they find her and she joins their ridiculous quest to Save The World: Electric Boogaloo, because Highly Enthusiastic Southern Cheerleader Who Just Found Out She Can Commit Arson With Her Mind is a brilliant person to have along.
-I think the last big thing I have from this, beyond everything going so sideways (The House of Life is, like, ninety percent sure that Carter and Sadie are possessed, but can't do much about it at the moment beyond periodically trying to kill them) is the whole power thing.
-The urge to basically blast their way through everyone until they agree with what's up is strong, guys. Also, the urge to drag Setne out of the Underworld just to beat him up for a bit. Lots of power struggles and reminding themselves not to commit too many war crimes in the face of an oncoming apocalypse where they have no idea what their best plan is, and also, half the people they could trust off the bat this time? Don't trust 'em this time.
-Oh yeah, and for a while, Amos and Julius/Osiris aren't unconvinced that this isn't some sort of power play by Horus and Isis to leverage things in their favor, so. . .. Sad times. :(
-I am a big fan of "Time travel doesn't necessarily fix everything", but this trilogy is just so fucking chaotic, and so many of the biggest parts rely on character growth, and you can't force that! No matter how much you may get frustrated and want to, if you're Sadie and/or Carter.
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mechahero · 7 months
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anonymous asked-😈 different monster, same face (accepting) 😈 - become possessed
There is shifting. Sharp hearing detects movement and in turn, a head turns. What appeared to be a gross ball of feathers and stretched flesh moves, no doubt startling whoever had come across it. Fluid despite the small amount of straining as the creature sits up straight, no longer resting against the partially destroyed wall he'd been leaning off against and staring blankly into the crowd of people going about their day.
Feathers ruffle. Milky eyes find themselves locked onto the poor soul unfortunate enough to find him. He's a horrible thing to look at. Metal having long since been replaced with white feathers and flesh made new, coated in gore from a time long past and yet still so fresh. One would almost mistake him for an angel... if weren't for the fact that his lower half had long stringy strands of inky black flesh dangling from it.
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"If you're looking for him-" He speaks up, voice cracking from the disuse. He is, of course, referring to the body of the man he was currently wearing as a suit. "I'm afraid he's not here right now. Nor will he be back any time soon. However..." His head tilts, mimicking the head tilt Lambda used to use so often. And then in the blink of an eye, he's off the windowsill he'd been perched up, all but towering over the other person. Large wings unfurl and spread into the air, birdlike and batlike wide open in unison.
"You're more than happy to join him."
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dirt-str1der · 2 years
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Sagawa is unfuckable in my head but in my heart he and nishitani had something embarrassing going on
#Listen to my problems#actually i transsexualise characters in yakuza based on one simple rule: if majima wants to hit then its a 65% that the guy is trans (if he#DESPERATELY wants to hit then its a 100% chance the guy is trans) the percentage rule doesnt apply to girls because majima doesnt believe#in unattractive girls (and shes right)#i will never date an ugly girl. why ? because ugly girls dont exist#let me get to the heart of my post anyway . i was randomly assigning cooler genders to yaluza characters when i actually looked at my list#and was like ... this ... this is !!!! majimas fuckit list !!! and theres already two dead guys on it. too ass#ill make it clearer actually sagawa being majimas handler does act a bit possessive and intimate towards him but he holds zero desire in his#heart for the poor boy even if he had to handfeed him for a while and it was super sad but majima on the other hand absolutely cannot#control where his dick compass swings and starts lusting after the guy more than twice his age plus he just got ‘rescued’ by sagawa <- its#just a simple passing of the leash from shimano to sagawa though and majima Knows this logically that hes completely forgotten how to act li#ke a human being and this is really dumb and he really shouldnt but hes extremely susceptible to his wild imagination and nightmares combo w#here hes trapped in a maze of his own libidio and trauma and against his will sagawa gets his sex engine roaring even though he hates the gu#y and thinks he sucks and it Really doesnt help that sagawa knows and lets majima know hes politely pretending hes not getting hard#stop reading btw im going to start talking about my creature of the night au wh actully no im not actually yes i am#but since majima goes wolfmode every full moon and he though his memories are foggy he can still Remember. and sagawa fucking loves animals#and a wolf is no different he really has a soft spot for wolfjima and spoils him a bit and majima gets trained against his will and itswired#deep enough to bleed over into his subconscious even when hes human and can remember that he hates sagawa but its hard to actually... hurt#him especially since in this au majima fucking bit him and sagawa let it slide. like he nearly got his arm torn off and had to wear a cast#for months and he never once blamed majima for it (soft spot strikes again) despite everything and despite how awful he is majima kind of#realises that sagawa (in his own way) is acting with majimas ‘best interests’ in mind <- extremely subjective statement#the thing is that he really respects him for that and trusts him not to pull the trigger on him when he doesnt ‘deserve’ it
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sabertoothwalrus · 27 days
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do you think Falin's chimerism would affect her lifespan and behaviors? or just her body? maybe she can make more animalistic noises or has vague dragon-like instincts?
that’s a really good question! I think we could probably figure this out by taking a look at what we know about Falin, what we know about red dragons, whether these things would apply to Falin, and go from there.
The obvious external changes Falin has are: her eyes, her teeth, and her feathers.
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It’s hard to pin down what Falin is like! Throughout the duration of the manga, she wasn’t really a character so much as a plot device. We have almost nothing told from her point of view, and the majority of her unbiased (as in, we’re seeing her through a neutral lens and not another character’s perception of her) characterization is from the post-canon omake.
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Even Falin believes that her wanderlust might come from her dragon side, but she's not sure. Personally, I think it’d make a lot of sense if it kind of does, in the sense that she has 20/20 vision now, haha! For most of her life, she could probably only see clearly within a relatively small sphere surrounding her, and now she can see everything. She can look up and around freely in a way she couldn’t before. Fuck man, if I had magic lasik I’d probably go out more too.
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Some other quirks that are really unclear whether it’s typical for Falin or chimera-influenced:
she enters rooms through windows, sometimes. And given the leaves in her hair, I think it’s reasonable to assume this is not the first floor 💀 But who knows! Maybe that’s not new for Falin.
She points out that Laios’s scent could deter monsters. Maybe she has enhanced smell. But again, it isn’t unreasonable to think this is something she would have said before. (I think even Chilchuck and Izutsumi, whose senses of smell are enhanced, can’t identify scents well. Kuro, however, can.)
VIOLENCE! But again, we’ve seen her beat shit with her staff before, and she also used to wield a flail. It IS a trait for red dragons to fight any large threat, so if anything, she’s got even better monster fighting instincts than before. I don't think this would carry over to people. Falin has always been better with people, and I'm personally not a fan of seeing her depicted as territorial or possessive. Marcille is already the possessive one, and didn't need dragon blood to be like that.
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Ultimately, I don't think her dragon traits extend much farther beyond this. Especially when you consider How Little the dragon is represented as in her conscience.
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it's not like it's a 50/50 split. She's like a person with a dragon ratatouille. I don't think she'd be able to make dragon noises. I don't think her body is built for that. I know there's like, a set list of tropey characteristics that are given to almost every non-human character in fiction. and sure that's FINE but they tend not to be especially personalized to the character, and tend to just be an excuse to write them OOC. Like, sure, dragons may have instincts regarding sleep habits, hunting, courting, raising young, etc etc, but so do humans! And we don't compulsively act on every instinctual whim we have. I don't see why it'd be any harder for her new dragon instincts.
If anything, I think she'd feel more affected by the fact that she has part of the demon in her.
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I don't think Falin's in any sort of trouble. All the demon was was a way to communicate with people. Here, it's representing Falin's tether to the infinite realm, to mana itself. The winged lion no longer has the desire to consume anymore because, yknow, Laios has that now. This is very likely why she no longer needs to chant to cast magic.
But what else does this mean for her? She already had unusually high reserves of mana + an innate connection with spirits, but is her mana essentially limitless now? How would that affect her lifespan? I'm leaning towards, it wouldn't really?? But is she immune to mana sickness now? Is it more like her magic is just sort of amplified like it would be in a dungeon?
We can infer that having more mana doesn't increase your lifespan, because-- while elves and gnomes have both naturally high levels of mana and longer lifespans-- dwarves live longer but have lowest levels of mana of all.
So to answer your question! Maybe a little bit?? But I don't think she'd change a whole lot.
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wheresarizona · 1 month
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but I would die for you in secret
summary: The relationship you have with Joel Miller is… complicated, and you’re not entirely sure what to even call it. There’s the fact no one can know, so his kid doesn’t find out, and you’re pretty sure he’s ashamed of your age difference—he’s not your boyfriend, but you only fuck each other; this thing started months ago, and Joel does not like it when men give you attention, because he wants you all to himself. But again, he’s not your sexy, older boyfriend.
pairing: Joel Miller/f!reader
rating: E (18+!! No y/n, porn with some plot, explicit smut, Possessive Joel Miller, Joel being a lil dominant, age gap (unspecified, reader is an adult), secret relationship, sneaking around, accidental voyeurism, edging, orgasm denial, mutual masturbation, dirty talk (so much), oral sex (f receiving), unprotected p in v (wrap it up!), rough sex, explicit consent, creampie, spanking, spit as lube, love confession, Good Parent Joel Miller, Ellie giving Joel so much shit, TLOU AU where Joel doesn’t lie to Ellie and they’re good when they get back to Jackson)
word count: 7.1k+
a/n: Hey! I needed a break from my long fic that I’ve been writing nonstop for five months, and I was really missing Joel and Ellie, so here we are. I hope you enjoy! Thank you to @juletheghoul for betaing!
Thank you for reading! Comments and reblogs feed me. I’d love to know what you thought!
Next - Series Masterlist - Masterlist
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The relationship you have with Joel Miller is… complicated.
To start with, there’s the age difference. It doesn’t bother you at all, and why should it? You’re both consenting adults who know what they want, but he’s got this idea in his head that he shouldn’t be chasing someone so much younger than him and that you should be with somebody your own age—he mentions this almost every single time you’re alone together, and you've learned a simple flash of your tits or a sudden kiss will make those thoughts disappear.
Then there's the fact he isn't your boyfriend, yet you only fuck each other. His days are spent working whatever job he’s assigned here in Jackson and he’s at your place most nights after his daughter goes to bed—however, that’s a secret; No one can know about you two, even though Joel’s a tiny bit possessive and doesn't take kindly to other men giving you attention; which you're not one to judge because you can't stand when women flirt with him, especially Sandra, his next-door neighbor who won't leave him the fuck alone after the many times he’s told her he’s not interested.
So, again, he's not your boyfriend, but neither of you wants to fuck anyone else; whatever this thing is between you has been going on for over eight months, and he doesn’t want people to know you’re together—yet, any time he catches a man being too friendly with you, there's a 100% chance a grumpier than usual Joel will show up at your house that night, and at some point, while he’s fucking your brains out, he'll let a 'Mine' slip out.
Clearly, you have some kind of relationship with him, and it borders somewhere between fuck buddies and him being your boyfriend; where it gets confusing is it's not all sex with him. If his kid is staying over at a friend's, he'll show up at yours earlier than normal, and usually, with a movie he hadn't seen since the world ended or a record he thought you'd enjoy that you both listen to all the way through for him to tell you facts and anecdotes that he could possibly be the only person on the entire planet who knows.
If you need anything fixed around your house, he'll do it, and sometimes you don't even have to ask. You'll mention something, and the next thing you know, he's at your front door with a toolbox—sometimes, he uses doing repairs as a ruse so people will see him arriving at your place with his tools when, in actuality, he’s there to spend the day with you.
You’re also probably the only person, unrelated to him, he has actual conversations with; there’s hardly any grumbling or muttering.
There is a reason he won't acknowledge you’re dating, and it's his sixteen-year-old daughter whom he doesn't want to know he has a love life—it's to where Joel's basically taken the role of the rebellious teenager, sneaking out of his own home in the middle of the night to ensure she's unaware he left.
It's an accumulation of factors why she can't know. The big two, you think, are your age, and you know for sure he doesn't want Ellie to think she'll be any less important to him or that he's abandoning her if he's seeing someone—he worries she won’t take it well, and from what you know she's been through, you can understand why he’s being so protective.
Do you wish you could openly be in a relationship with Joel? Sure, it'd make you happy to shove it in Sandra, his stupid neighbor's face that he's taken.
That isn't a possibility, though, and honestly, what the two of you have is good, so you're not going to make a fuss about labels.
It's been a few nights since Joel has snuck over to your place, and you know why he hasn't stopped by—Ellie—she's sick with a cold, and to put things mildly, her father is freaking the fuck out that it could turn into something worse, and he won't let her out of his sight.
Now, if a person didn't want their child to know they were dating anyone, they’d keep them separated, right? Well, you live across the street from them—that's how you met Joel; he saw someone had moved into the tiny one-bedroom, one-bath home across from his and came over to introduce himself—and since you live across the way from him, and Ellie, the two of you have this, 'Just being a good neighbor,’ act, where any interactions you have in public, are under the guise that you’re just friendly neighbors. So, Ellie has spoken to you many times and has even invited you to hang out and eat meals with them at their house or in the mess hall, where Joel always does his damndest to act indifferent.
Joel left a simple note three days ago stating Ellie was feeling under the weather on your front door. The next day, you stopped by, as the good neighbor you are, to drop off some chicken soup you convinced the kitchen at the mess hall to make. Joel had let you in with a ‘Thanks’ and took the large bowl from you to the kitchen, and you followed the sounds of sniffles to the living room, where you found the teenager wrapped in a blanket on the couch, her stuffed-up voice exclaiming when she saw you in relief you were there so she’d have someone other than her dad to look at or talk to; obviously, she was tired of him, and with how he was hovering, and fussing over her like a mother hen, you would’ve been tired of him, too.
The man had bags under his worried eyes and looked like he hadn’t slept since she’d gotten sick. After he served her some soup and saw she was eating it, Ellie and you convinced him to take a nap while you hung out with his kid—the kid you’ve had a suspicion for a while knows there’s something up between you and her father, simply because every time the two of you are alone, she grills you about your love life.
The thing is, she always fishes for information you won’t give her, but she never seems bothered by the prospect of Joel dating; frankly, she’s supportive and wants him to be happy. However, that wasn’t something you could tell him because he’d probably end things with you immediately, so you’d have to wait for them to eventually have a heart-to-heart for him to find out—which, you’re not holding your breath with how bad they both are at talking to each other about their feelings.
And now it’s been over three days since you last got laid, and after having great sex regularly, the horniness is hitting you hard tonight, and you need to come.
It might be the dead of winter, but you’ve pushed the blankets to the end of your queen-sized bed, the old sheets not as soft as you imagined they’d once been when they were new, your bare, heated skin pressing into them. You’re lying in the middle of the mattress, your head cushioned by a pillow that’d lost its firmness long ago, your naked legs spread while your fingers rub at your swollen clit just right, the others pinching at your pebbled nipple to have the pleasure welling up inside you. You’ve been biting your bottom lip so much it’s sore, your breaths panting from your lungs, the wood stove in the living room keeping your house warm, and that, combined with your arousal, has a thin layer of sweat coating your body.
Sure, you can get yourself off, but the orgasm will be nowhere near as good as what Joel coaxes from you; it’ll take the edge off, at least, so you’ll feel a little better.
For the last hour, you’ve been building yourself up, almost hitting your peak, and stopping, edging yourself over and over again to try to make yourself come as hard as you can by your own hand to assuage some of your need—the sheets are wet under your ass where you’ve dripped onto them.
Your heart is pounding in your chest, thinking about that one night Joel saw some guy about your age at the bar laying it on thick to get you to leave with him, and how after you turned him down and left, a familiar presence followed you along the dark streets. You had to keep quiet when those big, gun-calloused hands you knew all too well pulled you into the stable that had nobody in it except the horses—Joel fucked you from behind against a wall, having to brace yourself with your arms on it. You remembered his palm over your mouth to muffle your sounds and him blanketing himself over your back to have his lips at your ear while he pounded into you hard and fast, quietly grunting about how you were his and that no one could make you feel as good as he did. There was no forgetting how his cock stretched open your cunt, or how before he sheathed himself inside you, you heard him spit on his fingers to slick himself up; the way he made you come around him while he circled your clit with those same digits. The memory of how he’d worked himself up so much he’d forgotten to pull out and spilled deep in your pussy, has you so close to coming by your hand you moan loudly, “Joel.”
“Stop,” the familiar gruff voice makes your eyes snap open as you gasp, immediately sitting up on your elbows.
There at the foot of the bed is the man on your mind—he must’ve taken off his winter jacket in the living room—his green flannel shirt is gaping from most of the buttons being undone, revealing his chest, his grey waves of hair looking to be slightly damp from melted snowflakes. What steals your attention is the fact his jeans are unbuttoned and open, and he’s slowly stroking his hard dick; from how the tip is angry red, leaking precum, and his shaft shines, he’s been watching and jerking off for some time.
“Joel,” his name comes out as a whisper, and your eyes flick up to his, finding them dark and staring hungrily between your legs at your glistening cunt.
You’re so happy to see him you’re not even mad he ruined your orgasm, knowing he’ll make it up to you.
“How many times have you made yourself come while I’ve been busy?” he asks, finally meeting your gaze, his expression grumpy.
“No-none,” you stammer.
His eyebrow lifts. “You lyin’ to me, sweetheart?”
“No.” You shook your head. “Are you mad at me…?”
His face pinches in confusion. “What? No. I’m not mad at you, baby. I’m mad at myself for leavin’ you hangin’.” He undoes the last two buttons on his shirt and shrugs it off for it to fall to the floor, pushing down his pants to step out of them, now standing before you completely naked.
His body is a tapestry of littered scars that tell of his fight to survive this long, some from injuries you’re sure should’ve killed him. Yet, somehow, if by spite or the grace of God, he managed to stay alive—your fingers have traced many of them, mapping the silvery and pink lines in the quiet of the night with only the glow of a bedside lamp. With what people have to do in order to keep living these days, they rarely like to share the stories behind their close calls to death. Still, there’s a jagged scar low on the right side of his stomach lesser men would have died from, you noticed the first time he took his shirt off, and you always wanted to know the story of. Surprisingly, he told you how he got it a few months into this not-not relationship when you asked.
Excitement pools in your belly, your pussy throbbing needily, watching as he climbs onto the bed to kneel in front of you, between your legs, down by your ankles.
“Touch yourself,” he orders and takes himself in hand again, languidly pumping his cock. “I wanna watch you make yourself come; then I’m gonna show you how I’m better than everyone, includin’ you, at gettin’ you off.”
Your cunt clenches because he is better, and the promise has you doing as he said, sliding your hand down to the apex of your thighs to rub your clit the way you like while you watch him fist his shaft. This isn’t the first time he’s watched you touch yourself, and you’re sure if it was anyone else, you’d feel embarrassed, but with how the desire is clear as he stares at what you’re doing, it spurs you on.
Having been so close to coming when he told you to stop, and now, it’s turning you on so much that he’s jacking off to what you’re doing, all of it is building you back up quickly, the familiar heat growing at the base of your spine.
“Just like that, baby,” he rasps and wets his bottom lip. “Keep rubbin’ that pretty pussy—did you miss me?”
“Yes.”
He hums in the back of his throat. “Missed how good I make you feel—how I stretch open that perfect cunt with my cock? Do I fuck you so good, you were thinkin’ about me to make yourself come?”
The strokes of his hand sound wetter, your arousal drooling onto the bedding while the muscles in your belly begin to tighten.
“Yes,” you gasp.
“That’s right, you were. So fuckin’ pretty spread out like this for me—I wanna taste you, shove my face in your pussy, and drown in it; just look at how you’re drippin’ for me.”
“Joel,” you moan. You’re so close it’s not going to take much more.
“God, I fuckin’ missed that sound; I missed hearin’ your voice and how good you smell, how soft your skin is, and the few hours I get to sleep next to you—come for me, baby. Come all over your fingers, and I’ll give you my dick—I’ll make those gorgeous eyes roll back in your head and give it to you so good, I ruin you for anyone else.”
He’s already ruined you for anyone else, and you doubt there’s another who’d fuck you as good as him.
It’s the thought that he’s yours and no one else can have him like this that sends you over the edge, your body seizing up as you come, pleasure erupting from your center as you moan his name.
He doesn’t give you a chance to recover, batting away your hand to dive in and bury his face in your wet heat. He shoves his tongue inside your soaked hole, groaning loudly as he laps at your come, your body trembling when he drags the flat of it up through your folds to suck your clit between his lips. Your fingers press into his hair, soft sounds leaving your throat at how good it feels.
The one orgasm isn’t enough—you need more, his mouth igniting arousal to burn hot in your belly, making you feel achingly empty. He’s licking up every bit of your need, coating your sex, moving to flick his tongue against your sensitive bundle of nerves. You’re feeling greedy; what he’s doing isn’t enough, and you want, no, need him inside you.
You pull at his hair as you tell him in a somewhat whiny tone, “Fuck me, Joel—stop making me wait.”
His chuckle vibrates into your sensitive skin before he rises to kneel with a groan. “Impatient.” He smacks your thigh. “Flip, ass up.” And it’s not a suggestion, his hands on your waist helping you to roll over, pulling your backside up into the air while your torso is against the sheets. Your knees are sinking into the bed and spread a little, putting yourself on display for him, the mattress jostling when he shuffles forward, feeling his body heat behind you. His palm lands on your asscheek hard, the sharp sting making you moan. “Now, ask me nicely to fuck you.”
You should’ve known he wouldn’t care for your lack of manners.
Your head is resting on your crossed arms in front of you.
“Joel, will you please fuck me?” you ask as sweetly as possible.
“Yes.”
The sound of him spitting on his fingers meets your ears, and you know he’s slicking himself up. One of his hands holds your hip, the other guiding his cock through the lips of your pussy to wet it even more, nudging your clit—it doesn’t seem like he’s in a mood to tease too much. Your eyes slip shut when he notches himself at your entrance and starts slowly feeding himself into you, your tight, velvety walls expanding to take the considerable girth of him, whining as he fills you. He slides all the way home, your cunt throbbing around him.
“Fuck, that’s good,” he groans. “Is this what your needy little pussy wanted?”
“Yes,” you moan.
He’s as deep as he can go and pulls out until just the tip remains, and slams back into you hard enough to knock the air from your lungs—oh, this is going to be one of those times where he fucks you to the point your legs are too shaky to walk on afterward. The pace he sets is deliciously brutal and has your eyes rolling back, all thoughts leaving your brain, unable to think with how he’s pressing into so many heavenly spots, his grip tight on your waist.
The sounds in the room are obscene—the springs beneath you are squeaking, and there’s the noisy slap of his hips colliding with your ass, Joel grunting with each dull smack of his skin to yours, while you gasp out moans.
He’s fucking you so good, your orgasm is already taking shape, its fiery tendrils tightening in your core with each stroke.
“You feel so fuckin’ good,” he says through gritted teeth. “You’re so fuckin’ wet—I could live in this perfect pussy.”
His hand slaps your ass hard enough the crack echoes amongst the four walls, the sweet pain making you clench around him and press back into his thrusts, crying out his name.
“Does it feel good, baby?” he asks. “Did you miss getting fucked like this? You love this—this pussy is mine, isn’t it? You’re mine.”
He’s not wrong; you are his, and all you can do is mewl in reply, waves of your arousal seeping down his shaft to catch on his balls.
His gun-calloused hands adjust on your hips to get a better grip, pulling you back each time his dick impales you, fucking you harder and faster, hearing him panting behind you—the wet sounds of him working himself in and out of your drenched cunt, are loud, and lewd.
You’re so close; you’re just needing—
Joel leans forward to get his hand under your body to the swollen pearl of your clit, circling it how he knows you like it.
“Come on, sweetheart,” he grits out. “Let me have it—soak my cock with your come. Let me feel you—I know you’re almost there.”
That’s it—the knot in your belly winds tighter and tighter until the tension snaps, and you fall over the edge with a silent cry, your pussy clamping down on him hard enough that it slows his rhythm almost to a stop. Joel groans loudly while euphoria explodes out from your center, feeling it spread to your fingers and toes. Your brain goes blissfully blank, and your legs tremble under you like a leaf in the wind.
A gasp leaves you when he suddenly pulls out and flips you onto your back, taking his place between your spread thighs. He puts your legs high on his ribs, holding his weight on one arm while his other hand sheaths himself back inside you.
It’s not surprising that you’ve found yourself under his hulking frame with his hips snapping in and out of you—when you open your eyes, his are closed, his expression looking pained, and it’s his broad shoulders and head that take up your vision. This is how Joel wanted to fuck you from the start, but he’s a gentleman and did your preferred position first.
Your fingernails end up digging into the skin of his shoulder blades for something to hold on to, and he kisses over your chest to duck his head, wrapping his lips around a stiff nipple and sucking on it, the shock of pleasure causing a moan to slip from your throat. His breaths are heavy, and you know he won’t last much longer.
Your voice is hoarse when you speak, telling him what you know he needs to hear, “I missed you, Joel.” He whines. “I want you to come for me.”
His mouth leaves your breast to crash against yours, and you’d been wondering how long he’d go without kissing you—something about kissing while he fucks makes him come faster; maybe it’s the intimacy?
He’s told you the last woman he was with back in Boston wouldn’t kiss him because sex between them was just scratching an itch, and she wasn’t looking for anyone to replace her dead husband.
All you know is Joel loves kissing and touching—he’s admitted that he sleeps best with you snuggled against his back as the big spoon, which, you’ll never tell him, you think is adorable with how he scares people enough, they move out of his way when he walks down the street.
His kisses are fervent, and you give just as good as you get, welcoming his tongue when it presses between your lips, his pace speeding up. You love having him inside you, the way he fits all nice and snug to fill you completely. This is what you’ve been needing, and it’s perfect.
When his rhythm gets uneven, you expect him to pull out at any second to spill his release on your belly. What he does next, you’re not expecting.
Joel shoves his face into the crook of your neck, his facial hair scratching your skin, feeling his hot breaths.
He says something that’s too muffled to make out, so you pull on his hair to make him lift his head, finding his eyes dark and glazed over, looking totally and completely wrecked. His pace slows to him rocking in and out of you.
“What did you say?” you ask.
“Can I—” he pants. “Fuck, can I come inside you?”
The question has your tight walls constricting around him.
“Fuck,” Joel hisses, his eyes closing. “Please, can I?” he asks again.
The answer that immediately pops into your brain is ‘yes,’ but thinking about how the only times this man has finished inside you in the past were all accidents, you’re worrying he’s just pussy drunk and not thinking straight; that if you fell pregnant, something you didn’t mind, he’ll regret it.
“Are you sure?” you ask.
He looks at you and nods. “Yes, I know—” The consequences, he leaves unsaid. “—please.”
“Then yes, come for me, Joel—fill me up.”
He raggedly moans, his face falling into your neck again. His thrusts speed up and become frantic as he pounds into you, your heels digging into his ass, feeling the muscles flex. He works himself up until he presses into you one last time as deep as possible and comes with a guttural groan—his dick jerks inside you, and the hot spurts of his spend gush into your depths, filling you up. Electricity zips down your spine as you moan, your tight walls throbbing around him while he grinds his hips, fucking his come deeper.
The weight of his body is welcome when he eventually slumps onto you, and instinctively, your fingers slide into his hair, scratching your nails lovingly against his scalp, the man practically purring on top of you.
For the first time in three days, you feel happy and finally sated, loving how he’s stuffed you full of his cock, and come. There’s no talking as your heartbeats slow together and your breathing evens out, basking in each other’s presence. Your eyes are closed, and you’re choosing to ignore your shaky limbs.
It’s hard to imagine a life without Joel, which is odd since up until this point, most of it had been spent without him, or anyone really. What you actually mean is you don’t want to imagine a life without Joel and Ellie—you think she’s a great kid, and you have a soft spot for her; plus, she and her dad are a package deal. Then there’s Joel, who you’re absolutely and completely in love with, and it bothers you that you don’t know what this relationship between you is or if he even feels the same as you.
Minutes pass, the old, wooden bones of your house creaking as the winter wind gusts outside.
“Joel?” you break the silence.
“Mhmm?” he hums, nuzzling into your throat.
“What are we?”
“Huh?”
“What are we? Like, what is this thing that we’re doing?”
His head lifts, and he pulls out, rolling off you to lie beside you on his back, pressing his hands to his face.
“Somethin’ I shouldn’t be doin’ in the first place,” he finally answers.
You turn on your side toward him, propping your head up on your arm. “Take my age out of the equation.”
His palms lift, and he looks at you confused. “What do you mean?”
“For some fucking reason, you are stuck on my age—take it out of the equation; if that wasn’t a factor, would you openly date me?”
“Well, there’s Ellie—”
“—let’s pretend she doesn’t give a fuck about your love life,” you cut him off, “and actually wants you to be happy, and my age doesn’t matter—would you openly date me?”
“Yes.”
“So, you have feelings for me?”
“Of course.”
“Do you love me…?”
“Yes,” he whispers, covering his face again.
One word has your heart picking up in speed.
“I love you, too.”
His head whips in your direction with an expression of bewilderment.
“What?” he asks.
“I’m in love with you—have been for a while, and I’m fine with doing what we’ve been doing if that’s the only way I can be with you, but I kinda, sorta, would like it if you thought of us as a couple, and weren’t ashamed of me…”
A secret relationship? You’re fine with that. But Joel being ashamed of you? It fucking hurts.
“I’m not ashamed of you,” he says too quickly.
“Joel, if Ellie were okay with you having a love life, you wouldn’t openly date me because of how old I am—I’d just continue being your dirty little secret that one other person knows about.”
His eyes dart away, and the sigh he lets out is long and weary.
“I’m not ashamed of you,” he says. “I’m ashamed of myself for fallin’ for you and not bein’ able to give you the future you deserve. I just felt like I was stringin’ you along when you could be with someone who can offer you more, but I’m so fuckin’ selfish.” He looks at you. “I want you, and I don’t want anyone else to have you—I can’t let you go, even though I should cut you free.”
Your fingers brush back the sweat-soaked hair on his forehead. “I don't want anyone else, Joel—I want you, and you’re not stringing me along. I’m happy with you and any future I can have with you and Ellie.”
He’s frowning. “If only it were that simple,” he sighs.
This is a conversation you thought might make him end things with you, but maybe giving him a slight nudge will be okay—at least, you hope it will.
“It is that simple,” you tell him. “I’m gonna tell you something that if you can work up the nerve to talk to her about, she'll confirm it.”
His eyebrows furrow. “What?”
“Ellie doesn’t care if you date. She’s told me she wishes you weren’t such an asshole ‘cause then the only negative thing about you is how ugly you are, and people love ugly things all the time, and if someone loves you, then you won’t die alone, plus it’d hopefully make you happy, and she really wants you to be happy—that’s pretty much what she said word-for-word.”
His eyes close, and the sigh that leaves him is that of a father who’s real tired of their child’s shit, and you smile.
“That’s Ellie,” he says, scrubbing a hand over his face. “I’m not even sure how I should be feelin’ right now.”
“I hoped you’d be relieved at least, possibly even happy.”
He looks at you. “Yeah, I’m relieved and happy but also a little ticked at her embarrassin’ me like that.”
Scooting closer to him, you lay half on top of him with your arms folded on his chest, resting your chin on them to stare at his pretty face.
“Don’t be embarrassed. It was said out of love—she loves you.”
He sighs again, wrapping his arms around your bare back.
“I guess she does, even if she’s mean. Jesus, I can’t believe I just needed to talk to her sooner.”
“That’s usually how things work—it’s called communication, and you should talk to her.”
His eyes narrowed, and he smacked your ass, making you giggle. “There’s no need for the sass, sweetheart, and I was plannin’ on bitin’ the bullet and tellin’ her about us in the next couple of days.”
Your eyes widened. “You were? What?”
“Yeah, uh, I had a hard time with Ellie bein’ sick, and when you came over, I didn’t feel like I was goin’ insane with worry. Havin’ you there made it better, and I missed you.” His lips dip in a frown.
“I missed you, too—you were really gonna tell her?”
“I was.” He nods. “With how happy she was to see you, I thought maybe she’d be okay with it.” He shrugs.
You smile. “I think you’re right,” you reply, giving him a quick kiss. Meeting his gaze, you ask, “Is she feeling better?”
“Yeah, and thank Christ, she is.” He looks visibly relieved. “I think it was that soup you brought over—thank you for that and for givin’ me a chance to sleep.” He pecks you on the lips.
“It was no problem. I would’ve been there the entire time had it not been suspicious.”
He smiles. “I know.”
“Good. Sooo, I’m wondering, what are we now?”
“A couple,” he answers. “I’ve thought that for a while, but I’m too fuckin’ old to be callin’ myself your boyfriend.”
“I quite like having a sexy, older boyfriend.”
You squeak in surprise when he rolls you onto your back, your legs automatically opening for him to nestle his hips between. He’s holding himself up with his arms beside your head while yours loop around his neck, his lips pressing to the side of your throat, kissing the taut skin.
“You like havin’ a sexy, older boyfriend, huh?” His question is muffled, and you swallow hard when he sucks on your pulse point.
“I do,” you reply.
“I like havin’ you.” He’s kissing and nibbling along your jaw.
“‘Cause no one else can?”
He nips your chin, then hovers his head over yours to look you in the eyes.
His expression is serious. “Yes,” he says, “and I love you—if Ellie really doesn’t give a shit about me datin’, then every fuckin’ person in town is gonna know you’re mine.”
And something about that declaration thrills you.
“I’d like that.”
He gives you a small smile and kisses you for a moment before a thought comes to him, and he pulls back to meet your gaze.
“Maybe that neighbor, the annoyin’ one who doesn’t seem to know the meanin’ of no, will finally get it through her head, I’m not fuckin’ interested.”
You glare off into the distance. “Fucking Sandra,” you seethe.
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The first time he met you, Joel knew he was fucked.
All he wanted to do was be polite and introduce himself to his new neighbor, then you opened the door, and his brain stopped working because you were so beautiful. It didn’t help when you blatantly checked him out, clearly undressing him with your eyes before looking entirely too pleased with what you were seeing.
If he’d been a stronger, honorable man, he wouldn’t have accepted your offer to come inside for a drink; he wouldn’t have kissed you back or laid you down on the couch to eat your pussy; he wouldn’t have let you choke on his dick or crawl into his lap and ride him; he wouldn’t have gotten so lost in being buried in your wet, warm, perfect cunt and your lips on his that he forgot to pull out when he came; he wouldn’t have gotten addicted and returned to you almost every night after.
If he’d been a stronger, honorable man, he would’ve ended things before it went too far and definitely before he fell in love with you.
From the beginning, he knew he was way too old for you, and he didn’t understand why you wanted him or kept letting him into your house. He had nothing to offer you, yet even when the opportunities arose for you to go home with men your own age, you rejected them and welcomed him into your bed instead. It made little sense that someone as young and beautiful as you would give someone like him all of your attention.
He’s lost count of how many times he’s told you that you’d be better off with somebody younger than him. It’s usually when he remembers your age or when you don’t know what he’s talking about when he brings up certain things from how life was before it all went to hell. He says the words out loud, practically a reflex at this point when the guilt gets to him, and as quickly as the feeling comes, it goes because, as he told you, he’s selfish; he doesn’t want you with someone else; he wants you all to himself. When you tell him there isn’t anyone you’d rather be with than him, it feeds something deep inside of him that won’t let you go, and hearing you say you love him has only made it stronger—you have his total devotion.
Ellie being sick messed up his head enough that in the moments when you came to mind, he was plagued with the thought that you probably found someone new. The only time he felt a modicum of peace was when you stopped by, and with that and how much his kid loved you being there, and in general, he came to the conclusion he couldn’t lose you:
It was time for him to tell Ellie.
Joel isn’t delusional; you’d grow tired of only getting his nights and the occasional day, eventually, and he needed to give you more of himself, which required his daughter to know about your relationship.
If Ellie knew, then he could give you more.
He’s ashamed of himself for hiding your relationship and, in turn, not having much to offer in terms of a future. It bothers him so much that he hasn’t been able to be with you out in the open because you deserve better than being his dirty little secret, as you call yourself.
He hates that.
He wants everyone to know you’re his and that he is yours.
When he realized he was going to tell Ellie, he started imagining how your relationship would change. You could finally have a life together, and it had him thinking about things he never would’ve considered before you and actively tried to prevent in the past, but you didn’t mind the idea of bringing a new life into the world, and he thought that might not be so bad; Jackson’s safe, and he has no doubt you’ll be a great mother—and it’s a future he’s pretty sure you want since your reactions have always been positive when he accidentally finishes inside you. That’s why tonight he decided to say fuck it and asked if he could; he wasn’t worried about the consequences anymore.
He’s kicking himself in the ass for not talking to Ellie sooner.
The only reason he hasn’t broached the subject with her is after what happened in Colorado, Joel’s treated her like she’s a fragile piece of glass that he doesn’t want to risk getting broken again—the way she lost her spark after that resort town killed him; and what happened at the hospital? If he had the chance, he’d murder every one of those Fireflies again for how fucked up she was when he told her their plans to kill her without knowing for sure if they could make a cure or not and that her life meant nothing to them.
It took a lot of time for him to put her back together again, and being in Jackson helped a lot with her making friends and having some semblance of normalcy. But he’s worried any major changes will mess her up, and add in her biggest fear of ending up alone, Joel dating seems like a recipe for disaster—Ellie will always be his top priority, even if it’s at the expense of his happiness.
It’s early morning, and he’s got another thirty minutes before the sun will begin its ascent on the horizon, fresh snow coating the ground, the temperature freezing. Joel is skulking home from your place to be there before Ellie wakes up.
His point of entry is the back door that leads into their kitchen, which doesn’t make as much noise as the front and can be locked when he leaves. He’s staying close to the side of the house, heading toward the backyard, and peeks around the corner to check the vicinity—his heart pounds when he sees a dark figure trying to get into the door, Joel pulling the knife, he walks around with, off of his belt, keeping his steps light, silently approaching them.
“Why the fuck don’t we have a light back here?” he hears them quietly mutter.
“Ellie?” Joel says at regular volume.
“Ahhh!” she screams, turning in his direction. Her hand is over her winter coat-covered chest. “Jesus Christ, Joel! Way to give me a fucking heart attack!”
He walks closer, sheathing his knife, as he says, “What the hell are you doin’ out here?”
“What the hell are you doing out here?”
His hands perch on his hips. “Doesn’t matter—you, on the other hand, just got over bein’ sick and shouldn’t be out in this cold. Move, I’m gettin’ your ass inside.”
She stepped aside, and he walked over, quickly unlocking and opening the door; he grabbed her by the shoulder and firmly guided her inside. He flicked on the room’s light once they were inside, and the door was closed and locked, Joel crossing his arms over his chest.
“Now, where the fuck have you been?” he asks.
She’s unzipping her coat. “Where the fuck have you been?”
“I asked you first.”
She shrugs off her jacket and tosses it onto the kitchen table. Joel sighs, walking over to pick it up—he’ll hang it alongside his by the front door before he goes up to his room.
“I was at the same place you were.”
He keeps his face neutral, but his heart is thudding, and he’s pretty fucking sure she wasn’t at your house.
He meets her eyes. “And that is?”
She smirks. “My secret girlfriend’s.”
“Goddammit.” His fingers press to his forehead as he closes his eyes. “You fuckin’ know—how the fuck do you know?”
“Let’s see, she’s literally the only person in town aside from me and Tommy’s family you like. You stare at her with, I don’t know what to call them, googly eyes? It’s that look the dudes have when they see the love of their life, or whatever, in those shitty romantic movies we like to make fun of. I’ve heard you call her ‘sweetheart’—” She fake gags, and Joel sighs. “—you’ve gone over to her house to fix so much shit that, at this point, it’s gotta be a whole new house. You sneak over there every fucking night. Oh, and when she sees the lady next door, the crazy one who’s got a real hard-on for you—gross by the way—when she sees ‘you can call me, Sandy,’ flirt with you—double-gross—I’m pretty sure she’s plotting murder; you’re definitely plotting murder when guys hit on your girlfriend—which, I don’t get why the two of you pretend like you aren’t together; is she embarrassed that you’re so fucking old and ugly, or something?” His teeth clench, and he glares at her. “God, don’t give me the murder eyes, Joel! I was kidding!” She playfully punches his arm. “Kind of… I mean, I’m happy you found someone who loves you even though you’re a grumpy asshole and look like that.” She points at his face.
“You done?”
“Telling you you’re old and ugly? Sure. For now. But I have one more thing that gave you guys away.”
His eyebrow lifts. “What is it?”
“When she came over the other day while I was sick as balls and hung out with me, you slept. Joel, you do not fucking sleep if there’s anyone else here besides me, which is why if I wanna have a sleepover with my friends, I have to go to their houses.”
“Were we really that obvious?”
“Oh, yeah.”
“Why didn’t you tell me you knew?”
She’s clearly confused. “I thought we were avoiding the topic.”
“What topic?”
“Like, relationships—you never said anything to me, so I figured it was something we don’t talk about.”
He cringes. “I wasn’t sure how you’d feel…”
She smiles. “I don’t give a fuck if you date, Joel—if you’re happy, I’m happy.”
He matches her look. “I’m pretty fuckin’ happy. Are you happy with your uh, girlfriend? Have I met her?”
“Yeah,” she nods, grinning. “It’s Cat!”
His eyes round—he was under the impression Cat is her best friend, and he has met the other girl many times.
“Well, I’ll be damned,” he chuckles, shaking his head. “You’re way better at this secret girlfriend stuff than I am. I had no clue. I like Cat; she’s got all those neat tattoos.”
“She does!” she replies with a grin. “And I’m getting one!”
“You’re what?!”
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ghoul-haunted · 11 months
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watching the last episode of a show and my god these brothers are so maladjusted. they're haunted, possessed, made undone and unwell by the same thing. there's a monster crawling through your door at night and leaving flowers on the floor. it's your brother. you can't escape whatever is inside of him, he can't escape it either. have you guys tried (redacted). like, that wouldn't fix anything, but the uh.
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well
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floatyflowers · 3 months
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Dark Platonic! Fire Nation Royal Family x Non-bender Reader
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With Ozai:
At first he didn't accept the fact that you, his youngest child, is a non-bender, and ignored your existence.
That was until he noticed how his older brother, Iroh, spends time with you, Ozai got extremely jealous.
And decided to spend time with you, only to realize that you are his favorite child, and felt like an actual father.
Yes, you can't firebend nor do you even have the ability to protect yourself.
But why would you need to protect yourself when your father is going to be the Phoenix king of the fire nation?
Ozai will burn down the world for you.
"You, my sweet child, will grow up in the presence of a very powerful father"
With Ursa:
When Ursa found out that you couldn't bend, she became overprotective of you to the point of paranoia.
Since childhood, she refused to allow you to play with anyone except Zuko.
One time, one of her handmaidens scolded you harshly for playing outside without your mother's permission which resulted in you bursting into tears.
The next day, that handmaiden was fired and Ursa made sure that she gets no other jobs.
While thinking of escaping, she thought to take you with her.
However, Ozai has forbidden that from happening.
"When you find out the truth, promise to come find me"
With Azulon
While still alive, he made sure you had the best education and guards.
Azulon also made sure to have you believe that the fire nation is without mistakes or faults.
He tried manipulating you into believing that just your loyalty to your people is enough duty.
However, you are kind, too kind.
Yet, he Azulon didn't hate you for it even if he considered a weak trait to have in the royal family.
He also still has the flower crown you made him stored away safely so it doesn't rot.
It is rumored that the last word he muttered was your name.
With Iroh
Uncle Iroh isn't really as possessive as the other characters, but he focuses on advising you from time to time.
You enjoy drinking tea with him and gossiping about everything.
Even though, Ozai has forbidden him from speaking with you, you would sneak behind your father's back to drink tea with him.
After the loss of his son in the war, Lu Ten, Iroh felt depressed.
Yet you managed to comfort him with your cheerfulness and playful attitude.
It reminded him of his son.
"The best quality in a princess is her kindness, something which your sister clearly lacks"
With Zuko
Zuko thought you would be like Azula but you have proven him wrong.
You are kind, gentle, and nurturing just like your and his mother.
That's why Zuko always found himself by your side, being your playmate...being your protecter.
His mother told him that it's his duty to protect you from danger considering that he is your older brother.
Even though Azula has never hurt you, but Zuko was always wary of her, especially after his mother disappeared.
When Ozai challenged him to an Agni Kai, you were the first to cry out and plead with him to let Zuko off, but Ozai felt jealous of your relationship with Zuko and was determined to teach his son a lesson.
However when your brother got banished, Zuko took you with him in secret not wanting you to be left with Azula.
"I know the journey will take long but once I restore my honor we can return home together"
With Azula
Azula was extremely jealous when you were born, thinking that you will take all the attention from here.
But she realized that you deserve all the attention.
You didn't treat her like a monster, you weren't scared of her.
Instead you showed her love and called her 'big sister'
You would cling to her as a toddler, whenever there was lightning, you would secretly sneak to her room and sleep beside her.
"How can you be scared of lightning, we control it, silly"
Mai and Ty Lee saw how Azula softens whenever you are around.
And when Azula discovered that you have left with Zuko, she destroyed everything in her way and burned a few servants.
"She's mine, and only MINE"
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I just finished the Angel book "Dark Mirror," and I have to say I was kind of disappointed by this one. It wasn't bad or anything at all. But the description of it just made it sound like it was going to be so much more epic than it ended up being handled, imo. Though maybe I just expected too much and kind of over-hyped it.
...And then there are some Buffy and Angel books where I feel like the summaries don't do them justice at all--or they sound uninteresting--and then they end up being the most amazing things ever. LOL
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pixiesndberries · 5 months
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𝐃𝐄𝐀𝐑 𝐅𝐔𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐄 𝐇𝐔𝐒𝐁𝐀𝐍𝐃, 𝐉𝐉𝐊 𝐌𝐄𝐍 —
a small series of Jujutsu Kaisen men as your husband !
☆ OUR STARS : Nanami Kento, Gojo Satoru, Geto Suguru, Choso Kamo, Aoi Todo, Toji Fushiguro, and more !
━ REQUESTED BY : none
━⁠ WARNINGS : none
ෆ PIXIE'S NOTE ! : heya pookies I know it's been a while 🙏🏻 but here I am creating another series to pay off the days I wasn't posting so much —⁠ forgive me my pookies 🏃🏻‍♀️💨 we have holiday break so I'm going to grind a lot 😝
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NANAMI KENTO, as your husband !
• Nanami is the perfect standard for male wife, argue with the wall —⁠ this man knows how to cook, clean his home, does his own laundry, and mostly basic life skills that most men barely know which is pretty much a big turn on.
Nanami who always supports your decision as long as it doesn't have any bad effects in your life, he respects you a lot to whatever you do in your life —⁠ he thinks that just because you are married it doesn't mean he have full possession on you, though sometimes when you asked for his opinions about your decisions in such situations he isn't shy of what he thinks.
Nanami the type of husband who will always do small and big things for you even though you can do it yourself —⁠ carrying groceries for you, helping you in the kitchen, sending you to your work, helps you clean the house, and goes to the mall with you.
; he surprisingly took the shopping bags form your hands gently "your hands will get numb, this is pretty heavy." he says with his usual tone as he looks at you softly, you can't help but to smile in his small little gestures and gosh it's making her heart melt.
"thank you, kento." you say as you gave him a big smile and pressed a kiss on his cheeks making him grin.
Nanami who is being a worrywart when you don't reply quickly when you're out with your friends late night —⁠
; kento | sent a message.
10:24 pm
kento : just got home love ❤️
kento : what time are you going home?
11:04 pm
kento : love, tell me when you're going home I'll pick you up ❤️
kento : is everything going alright?
kento : kind of worried, hope you respond soon 😅
11:07 pm
kento : please reach out to me when you can so I can pick you up ☺️
kento : I'm worried 😢
you : love I'm fine sorry, we we're drinking just a tiny bit 😭
you : you can pick me up now 🏃🏻‍♀️💨
Nanami the type of husband to use cringe emojis but you appreciate it anyways, he barely use his phone or try to use emojis —⁠ headcanon : he learned using emojis from yuji or gojo 🙏🏻 you find it silly and cute anyways.
Nanami who's phone is always filled with your photos and some sceneries with you in it —⁠ he doesn't like taking photos of himself that much though, he loves taking photos of you and look through it when he's not busy or when he misses you and he's at work.
Nanami when he learned how to use Instagram and he can't stop posting you —⁠ Gojo probably tried influencing him to use social media once and he was like no??? not until one time you took a photo of him during one of your dates and you asked him, "hey can I post this?" and of course he said yes and after that you kept posting him at some times which led him to the idea of posting you as well since he thinks you deserve it too.
; nanami.kento1990
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tagged : @y/n.igcom | ❤️
itaaa.yuji and 13 others liked this post.
gojosatoru | he knows how to use Instagram 😦 ???
gojosatoru | WHO TAUGHT YOU ⁉️
itaaa.yuji | first post !!
nobaraaaa | parents 🙏🏻
Nanami who is nervous to talk about the future he wants with you — not totally nervous it's more like when you talked about kids you wanted soon with him he will always be like, "sure I also thought about that." with his usual tone but deep inside talking about it was his hyper fixation and he can't stop thinking about it.
Nanami who never in his life forget about giving you flowers in small or big occasions —⁠
; "happy mother's day." he says softly with a grin in his face as he hands you a bouquet of your favourite flowers, "kento, I'm not a mother yet." you laugh as you take the bouquet from him, admiring the flowers for a second. He never fails to make you feel happy, "maybe soon?" he chuckles then makes his way to give you a hug. "sure." you laughed and happily hugged him back tightly, exchanging I love you.
Nanami who never left by your side especially when you are not okay, he will leave his work for a day or even weeks if you really need him by your side —⁠ he will never get tired of comforting you; if you need a shoulder to cry on? He's there. He can stay all day in bed with you to make you feel better —⁠ take you out in a vacation if that's what you really need or probably do every house chores just to make you rest.
─ REBLOGS, LIKES, AND COMMENTS ARE APPRECIATED FEEL FREE TO REQUEST!
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Soft Astarion Jealousy
Now with part 2!
I love Ascended Astarion because he's horrible but the sweetness of the other end of the spectrum is impossible to deny. He's just so in love and grateful I can't 🥺🥺
So here's some jealousy that isn't psychotic. Well it is but not as bad:
Astarion never expected to be the jealous type. He always thought...well. In all honesty he never thought about the reality of having a relationship. He didn't even think it was possible for him, let alone the idea that he would actually want it. Even with you, even after he admitted a fraction of his own feelings to himself, he never thought that he would be so... possessive. Though admittedly, he had very good cause for it.
Because you were frustrating. So, so frustrating. For some idiotic reason, you simply didn't understand how alluring to others you really were. You were a pretty little thing, yes but that wasn't the problem. It was so much more than that. And he knew that the others wanted you. Every last one of them. Lae'zel, Shadowheart, Wyll, Karlach, Gale, Halsin. All of them like moths to a flame. And that wasn't even counting all of the strangers you had met on your journey, the extras that thought they had a shot with your greatness. They all wanted you in ways that made Astarion seethe. And the desire from others wasn't even the kind that he was used to, the kind he understood like the back of his hand. Because you didn't need to seduce to cultivate desire. All you needed to stoke the flames was merely your presence. Experiencing you was all that was required for people to know they wanted more.
Astarion knew that the others weren't just looking for a bedmate, they wanted you for the same reasons he had grown to. Your empathy, your desire to understand those around you. Your fearlessness, your infuriating habit of always trying to do the right thing. They wanted you for your laugh, the way your eyes would crinkle in the corners when your smile was too wide. Your silly jokes, your endless hopefulness for a future. It felt as though everyone around saw you for the gem that you were and it was... concerning. Extremely concerning.
Astarion hated thinking about things like this. He loathed admitting the truth to himself even more. But he was...terrified of losing you to someone else. Especially since it could so easily be done. He was so very lucky that you weren't the brightest, or at least not when it came to matters of the heart. You could do so much better than him, a fact that was incredibly obvious to everyone around you. Everyone but you, a luck that Astarion did not take lightly. But how much time did he have before it ran out? Would it ever?
Perhaps it was delusional, but he was starting to think when all of this was over, assuming neither of you perished anyway, that...it could just be the two of you. Living together, exploring the world, even if it had to be under the cloak of night. Maybe... maybe the two of you could even find a cure for his unsavory condition. The thought itself was incredibly stupid, but then again, it was just as idiotic to believe that there was a cure to the Mind Flayer parasite. But here they were, closer then ever. And if that was such an impossibility turned into reality, perhaps a vampiric cure wasn't so impossible. Or maybe even finding an alternative method for immortality for you, without the downsides of his own. Anything that could just keep you both together, for as long as possible. It was an unrealistic dream, that would never come into fruition. If anything it was dangerous, so very dangerous to even entertain the thought of forever. Especially when your connection was so tenuous.
Astarion would never be stupid enough to thank Cazador for anything but...he'd be lying if he said he wasn't appreciative for his own lack of subtly when it came to seducing you. Even if it originally was for distasteful reasons, it still got him ahead of the pack. If he had been less calculating, less astute, there was a sincere chance that you would be warming someone else's bed at night. Callousness would never be without it's uses, even if it led to uncomfortable situations like his current infatuation.
What would he do when you inevitably wanted to leave? How could he survive after having something so...good. Someone so caring, someone who for some very horrifying reason liked being around him. And the sex... it was fabulous. He was a massive fan of your intimacy, when he was capable of participating in it. He adored it, he adored you, your beauty, the sweet noises he could coax from your mouth, the europhia of being inside of you. Then there was the fact that you could be intimate without any traces of it devolving into lovemaking. He had never been gifted with the ability to say no before, so often and so freely without a single fear of punishment. If anything, it felt like he was rewarded when he was honest with you, when he would share his sudden fits of discomfort in his own body, the memories that plagued him and doomed him to staying stubbornly soft. You would never get angry, never even disappointed. You would just listen and smile, always adorable when you would ask, "But I can stay for a cuddle, can't I?"
An extremely silly question, considering the two of you hadn't spent a night apart from each other since you'd made it to the Shadowlands. Yet it never failed to make him melt.
It was getting worse, these feelings. He just wanted you around, by his side, constantly. Constant enough for him to get the ridiculous urge to hiss at anyone else who dared to come near you. He felt an intense need to protect the closeness the both of you had cultivated, the kind that he had never been allowed before. He had no interest in sharing you with your own friends when it came down to it, let alone another lover.
Which is precisely why his original, mild distaste for Halsin turned into a full-blown hatred the night he had the gall to proposition you.
It had felt like a shard of ice going through his chest when you bounded over to him, laughing about one of his greatest fears coming much too close to reality, "You won't believe the conversation Halsin and I just had-"
"Ah, I was wondering when you were going to ask me about that," Astarion laughed, purposefully interrupting you. He had no desire to hear the specifics of that conversation. He didn't even want to be having this conversation, where you were inevitably going to ask if it was okay to explore someone else.
The answer was no. Never would he be okay with it, allowing someone else to be close to what should have been his. But he needed to think strategically here. To say no could be disasterous. If it became a game of choice between him and Halsin... he's almost certain he would lose. Halsin was everything he wasn't; caring, giving, sharing in your worldviews in a way that Astarion never could. He couldn't risk it, he wouldn't. Having you at all was better than nothing.
"But I'd never even consider something like that-"
"It's fine," Astarion interrupts again, the fakest smile he can muster plastered on his face. The pain was worth the risk mitigation, he was sure of that. But... he still had to ask, "But is this because we haven't...y'know, in awhile?"
A sick part of him prays that you'll say yes. Because if that's the reason, he could do something about it. He could force himself if need be to always tend to your needs. Especially if it meant keeping you to himself. It was such a small sacrifice in comparison to the rest of his life. He would do it in a heartbeat if you demanded, anything to just make you stay.
But that was not the answer he received. Instead you frowned, looking him up and down, "What? No, I-Astarion no. Please don't think that. What we have together is so special to me. The physical part of it is lovely, perfect even. But...it's not what we are."
It's almost comforting to hear you say that. But then why did that make the situation feel so much worse? If it wasn't sex you were after then that certainly meant you wanted more with Halsin as well, did it not? But it was too late to rescind it now.
Astarion nodded, a confused mixture of hurt and gratefulness swirling through him, "I just needed to know. But if you're satisfied with me and just want to explore, go right ahead. I'll be here when you're done."
You nodded slowly, brow furrowed when you asked, "So...we aren't exclusive then?"
"No, of course not," Astarion confirmed, ignoring everything inside of him that was screaming for him to take it all back, "We can be as open as you'd like."
"I see..." You said, trailing off with a frown. You coughed into your hand, looking up at him sharply. Sharp enough for him to be sincerely confused, "Does this mean that you'll be speaking to me before you explore your other options?"
"I-yes? If you want?" Astarion answered, a new type of unease settling in his chest. You didn't seem very happy with this conversation, despite his best attempts to give you what you wanted. Where had he gone wrong? Was he already working to throw you into the arm's of another man, without even trying?
You were still frowning at him, your look cold in a way that made him feel particularly ill, "Please do. I'd like to know everything. I'm going to speak to Halsin, get this all sorted. We can talk later."
And then you were spinning on your heel and marching away, like Astarion was the offensive party here. It made no sense. He had done it all right, hadn't he? Agreed to it immediately, didn't make you feel guilty, had tried to be what you wanted. How had he failed?
He didn't wait around to see you go to Halsin. Instead he went straight back to his tent, closing the flap as he laid down. Great. Fantastic. Now he would have to be aware, perhaps even hear you being with another, while simultaneously reliving that horrid conversation in his head for the entire night. The hurt and worry was making his mind wander to uncomfortable places. Perhaps...Halsin could be dealt with in another way if things became too serious between the two of you.
Would poisoning the man be too extreme?
But before Astarion had the time to start thinking of a more detailed plan he was interrupted. Suddnely, moonlight was filling his tent, with your silleoute shining in the darkness.
He blinked up at you, confused, "What are you doing here?"
You frowned at him, looking hesitant in the entry way, "Should I not be? I thought-I can go if you'd like."
"No!" Astarion blurted out, loud and desperate enough to make him cringe. He cleared his throat, trying again, his voice still a touch too pitiful for his liking, "No, no, come here darling. Of course you're always welcome. I just assumed you would be busy."
To his relief you listened, crawling into the bedroll next to him. Astarion didn't waste any time in wrapping his arms around you, relieved to humiliating degrees that you had chosen to come back after the deed. Though...you didn't quite smell as he had thought you would. There were no traces of the floral, woodsy smell of the druid on your skin. Just the sweet, pleasant scent that he had grown so fond of.
You sighed as he tucked you against him, the warmth of you enough to make him relax for the first time that night. You laid together in a pleasant quiet, one that Astarion was actually scared to disturb. Despite the fact that he desperately wanted to know what happened between the two of you.
But you broke the silence for him, muttering into his chest after the two of you were settled, "I'm...sorry for being snappish earlier. I shouldn't have been. You didn't do anything wrong, and I know I don't own you. I shouldn't have assumed."
Astarion frowned, pulling back to get a proper look at your face. You looked hurt, sad even. Like you were the one who had gotten their heart broken. He could feel a curl of distaste settling in his stomach, annoyed that this felt as though the situation was being placed back to him. He had played his part, perfectly. What more could you ask for? What was there to assume?
"I'm not sure I understand what you mean," Astarion carefully said, his eyes fixed on every micro expression on your face, "What did I do that could have been construed as incorrect?"
"Nothing!" You rushed to say, shame coloring your cheeks, "I was being stupid. You never promised me anything. I just...assumed. Wrongly that we were something we aren't."
That didn't-he-what? Astarion frowned at her, his confusion evident on his face, "What did you think we were?"
You looked uncomfortable, avoiding his gaze when you answered, "I thought that we were...together. Alone. Just us. But if that's not what you want I understand. It's fine-"
"What in the hells are you talking about?" Astarion blurted out, his anger and pain bubbling to the surface, "I haven't done a thing. And we were just us before you decided to galivant off with a bear of a man!"
He regretted the words as soon as they were out of his mouth. So much for playing things safely. No, he couldn't even have the self-control to stay quiet. He always had to ruin everything.
But surprisingly, you didn't look angry. If anything you seemed just as confused as he felt, "What? I didn't-we didn't do anything! When did I say I wanted to do anything with Halsin? You were the one saying you didn't care!"
You weren't making any damn sense, "Well why else would you ask me about it?"
"I didn't!" You huffed, glaring at him, "All I was going to say was that he asked me. And I wanted your help on how to best turn him down! And then you jumped at the chance to push me onto someone else-"
"I did nothing of the sort!" Astarion seethed back, "If it was up to me you would never look at another man again! Or woman for that matter!"
It was an odd feeling, to be arguing while holding each other so closely. But Astarion had no intention of letting you go anytime soon, even if he could feel you squirming against his ironclad grip when you fumed at him, "Then why would you say it was okay?!"
"Because I don't want you to leave me!" He shouted back, loud enough to snap him out of his own anger. All of his fury was instantly replaced with fear. Gods, why had he felt the need to say that? To lay his biggest insecurity out on the line. Why not just hand you a stake while he was at it, since he was so eager to give you the tools to destroy him.
But you were still seething, hissing back at him, "Why praytell, would I leave the man I've been in love with for months? Hm? Please, explain it to me!"
Astarion couldn't. He was too busy being shell-shocked at the confession, feeling too many emotions at once. Joy, relief, somehow even more fear than before. You so freely said the words that he had done his damndest to bury, to ignore. But now they were out there, filling him with a horrifying joy.
He wanted to say it back. He did. But he couldn't get the wrecthed words out. Instead he was just staring at you like an imbeicle, his mouth hanging opening at the confession.
But his silence didn't make you falter. Instead you looked determined, near fierce as you grasped his face into your warm hands, "I love you Astarion. You don't have to say it back. That's not what this is about. But I want you. And only you. If you want the same of me then you must tell me. Now."
Astarion let his hands flutter over your wrists, humiliating tears prickling at his eyes. But at least his vocal chords allowed him to answer you this time, "I do. So much more than you know. I want us. Just us. No one else."
The words were flowing out of him, too fast and sincere for him to make the appropriate edits in his head. He was saying too much, feeling too much, giving too much. But the way your eyes brightened at his words, the way you grinned at him before pulling him in for a sweet kiss made it suddenly feel like he wasn't giving anything up at all.
As much as he loathed to admit it, Astarion was exceedingly grateful for Halsin's existence after that night. He would never have had the gall to demand you to himself without a trigger, without the anger you both shared at being misunderstood. Because now, you were his. His alone, the proclamation coming from your own lips. And he was free to stop hiding how much he had wanted it. How willing he was to do anything to keep it. He let himself off his own leash after that, leaning completely into the mutual ownership you had of each other. No more would he silently sit back and seethe as a stranger flirted with you. No, now he'd be upfront and center, with a possessive hand around your waist as he glared them down, more than prepared with a confidence-shattering quip on his tongue.
He started to let all of his urges seep through, taking full advantage of your willingness. If Wyll looked at you for too long at the fire, with a touch of something that Astarion didn't like in his eyes, he'd effortlessly pull you into his lap onlookers be damned as breathed you in. If Gale suddenly had a suspect offer to teach you some new magic in a secluded location, Astarion would invite himself, impervious to any glares sent his way. And when he felt as though all of them were being a bit too flirtaious, he was more than happy to put them in their places at night. Spending hours upon hours making you scream his name in bed from pleasure, loud enough for everyone to hear and know exactly who you belonged to.
He couldn't care less if it added to his own unpopularity amongst their merry-band of rejects. Their opinions didn't matter. Not when you were eating all of the sudden attention up.
You let him do it all because you understood him, in ways that no one else had bothered to before. You knew who he was, what he wanted, the extent to how much he craved your attention. And you let it all happened, reveled in it even. The intense shows of affection. Because you loved him. And he loved you. And one of these days he'd allow himself to admit the obvious.
But for now, he had what he wanted. What he needed. And in the first time in his life, even with disgusting tadpoles squirming his his brain, Astarion was actually...happy.
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