#stay tuned for the other six
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very excited to announce this!!!!
envy, wrath, sloth, gluttony, greed, lust, ao3
this is part one of what will be the
Seven Deadly Sins Series (NSFW 18+)
pride (noun) - inordinate esteem for one’s own excellence. It is a habit or vice that disposes us to think more of ourselves than we ought.
The Hair.
King Steve.
Pretty Boy.
Steve is no stranger to objectification. He’s well acquainted with the way girls blush and giggle when he smiles their way in the halls. The way guys seem to puff out their chests when they speak to him.
In fact, his physical appearance has become so much a part of who he is at this point that he’s probably single-handedly keeping Farrah Fawcett spray on shelves across the nation.
But the thing about being naturally attractive, Steve learned the hard way, is that humility is what really gets under people’s skin.
Blushes go pinker when his response to a giggly “You look handsome today, Steve,” is looking at his shoes with a quiet, “What, this? Thank you.”
Other boys look less ready to throw a punch or an insult his way when they sprinkle their gametime trash-talk with “Pretty Boy” and “King Steve” if he just laughs and keeps playing.
Humility is what really does it.
For most people.
In the past few months he’s been dating Eddie Munson though, he’s realized there’s one exception.
It's not that Steve doesn’t think he’s attractive. It’s not that at all. He knows he’s good looking, spends an inordinate amount of time making sure he highlights it daily. Loves it about himself actually.
He doesn’t usually let people know that he knows, is the thing.
But Eddie loves when he’s vain.
Loves the way he primps in the mirror before they go out.
How he spins around to make sure his best assets are on display.
Steve’s honestly lost count of the number of times he’s been talking to himself in the bathroom, staring at his reflection saying “Damn, I look good in this outfit,” before arms are snaking around his waist and squeezing at his hips. A gravelly, “Fuck yeah you do,” in his ear.
That’s why, with a Herculean effort, Steve pulls himself away from Eddie’s lips where he’s in his lap on his couch.
They’re both breathing heavy, lips swollen, and eyes glassy. But Steve has an idea.
He rubs his thumbs over Eddie’s cheeks and breathes a laugh when he turns to nip at one of them. Can’t help but to lean in and kiss him again.
“Can we try something, baby?” He whispers into the barely there space between them.
Feels Eddie nod and hands grip at his thighs.
“Anything you want, Stevie.”
He trails a hand back to tangle in Eddie’s curls and shifts to bite at his ear and whisper, “Want you to fuck me in front of the mirror. Wanna watch.”
When Eddie pulls back from him it’s with a wicked smirk and eyes darker than Steve’s ever seen. He bucks Steve up and off and smacks him on the ass when he turns to leave.
“Yeah baby. Let's go watch how pretty you are.”
He knows his smile is blinding when he laughs back over his shoulder.
*****
Steve always thinks he’s hot, but he thinks he’s prettiest when he’s kneeling and sitting back on his boyfriend’s dick with tear streaks down his cheeks and drool down his chest.
He’s so spacey, and so stuffed full that he’d agree with almost anything Eddie said.
Currently it's a litany of, “Look at you baby, you’re so hot,” and “My sweet baby. Prettiest angel,” and “Look how pretty you are, huh,” with every punch of his hips and bite to the side of his neck.
Between Steve’s punched out breaths and whines he’s nodding. “Mhm. ‘M the prettiest. So pretty when I cry.”
His agreements have Eddie groaning and wrapping the hand not digging into his hip around the front of his neck and dragging him backward into a bruising kiss.
He’s smiling and Steve can feel him laugh when he whimpers against his mouth. “Tell me about it baby. Tell me what’s pretty.”
Gasps from deep in his chest when Eddie wraps his hand around his cock and tugs.
“Tell me.”
Steve whines once and squirms under the attention. Loves it.
“My eyes,” he gasps. Eddie hums from behind him and slows his hips to a deep grind. “My eyes look really green when I’m crying. I like them.”
A soft kiss dropped to his shoulder and two sets of eyes on him in the mirror.
“My hair. Like it when– when it's messy,” a hiccup and eyes squeezed shut when Eddie shifts inside him just right. “Like when it’s messy from your hands.”
He slides his own hands up his thighs and squeezes at the hand Eddie still has against his hip.
He meets his own gaze in the mirror and his face breaks into a smile as his chest heaves.
“Like my lips when they’re swollen. People can tell I just kissed you. Want ‘em to know.”
In a second Eddie’s got a palm flat against his back and has his shoulders shoved down into the carpet, his head twisted to see himself.
He knows he’s falling fast because he giggles when Eddie grips at his hips and pulls him back onto his dick. Giggles even more when Eddie looks up at him in the mirror and smirks when he pushes in deep.
“Pretty when I’m ass up for you,” he smiles and his eyes finally stray away from his own reflection to meet his boyfriends gaze, fucked out and cocky.
Eddie lands a sharp smack to his ass and squeezes. “Hell yeah you are baby. So pretty when you’re on my dick.”
One of his hands slides up Steve’s spine and presses down on the back of his neck and pulls a gasp from his lungs.
“But you know what baby?”
Steve hums with his eyes locked on the way his ass bounces with each meeting of Eddie’s hips.
The hand snakes back around to tug at his cock again and he knows it won’t take much more when Eddie grits out “Prettiest when you come for me.”
His legs shake and he lets out a high whine as he spurts into Eddie’s hand.
“That’s it angel. God you feel so good, Stevie,” is all Eddie can get out before Steve feels his hips stutter and his breath leave him in low groan.
Steve knows he’s attractive is the thing.
Knows he’s pretty and loves it.
People tell him all the time.
But one of his favorite things to hear is when he’s coming down from his orgasm high, his boyfriend lists the things he finds prettiest.
“Your smile.”
“Your laugh.”
“Your heart.”
“The way you love people.”
“The way you love me.”
“The prettiest is the way you love yourself.”
#steddie#steddie fic#steve harrington#eddie munson#steddie smut#seven deadly sins series#pride#these are all going to be smut#and filthy smut at that#therefore#minors DNI#or get blocked im so serious#joey don't yell at me this was my writing reward for making progress on my big bang#stay tuned for the other six#can you tell I have catholic guilt be honest#y'all won't believe what I was watching while I wrote this#okay fine I'll tell you#it was shark tales#this is probably ooc#good thing idgaf#gin writes
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Comte’s Drama CD: Track One, Prologue
Since I got the Comte drama CD and there’s nobody around to stop me from inflicting that on everyone else, it’s time.
The premise of the entire recording is that MC and Comte spend a day together, so it’s basically Comte non-stop simping for nearly an hour. As you can imagine, I had an excellent time and I hope you will too.
I will say I did enjoy a few of the tracks more than others, only because he’s the most dramatic man alive and I love him. His head is empty and he’s the only one for me!!! More seriously though, there are also a lot of sweet moments that really speak to how vulnerable and real he is with her--and I’m always really drawn to that duality in him. Yes we all mask the true nature of who we are to a degree, but I think there is something to be said for the effort he makes to be honest with her; especially considering how deeply rooted that instinct to conceal is for him.
Without further ado, I will go through each track with little snippets of actual dialogue in the CD. Please note again, I am by no means a professional or a perfect translator; I’m just too obsessed to be stopped.
The rest is under the cut to avoid spoilers, also because it’s long meta/squealing fest:
So the first track is called “Prologue” and as you can imagine it is exactly as it sounds. There really isn’t a whole lot to this one, as he basically recaps all the things we learn in his main story route. I do want to comment mostly on the beginning and the end of it though, since it’s exceedingly cute and makes me want to kiss him.
His spoken lines at the beginning are as follows:
So this is where you were. Were you looking at the moon from the balcony?
…Indeed, it’s true. It’s hard not to be captivated by such a beautiful crescent moon.
Usually it would be time to go to bed, but it’s such a lovely moonlit night. Let’s stay up a little late tonight.
We could have a glass of wine, or play a game? What would you prefer?
...huh? You want me to tell you a story?
Like. There are so many moving parts here, I don’t even know where to begin. The fact that he’s always seeking her presence (this can easily be corroborated by dozens of event stories). The way that he’s also drawn to the moon, the little silence there speaks to his thoughtfulness and musings of his own that are unknown to us. What does it evoke for him? Is he, too, reminded of the night they first met (hoping MC is thinking of the same)? Can you tell the thought alone is killing me?
The fact that he wants to spend that time with her, lingering beside her and unwilling to part. The way he always gives her a choice, always wants to know what she wants too. The audible surprise when he’s like ????? Storytime? And mind you I don’t think it’s because he thinks it’s immature, rather that he wasn’t expecting it. In a life surrounded by people--both purebloods and humans alike--that are entertained by so little, it’s heart-warming to be with someone who looks for something deeper, something closer to the soul. That, in a way, she’s asking for the gifts of his mind and voice, two things entirely unique to him.
I weep.
He goes on to say:
(his laughter SOBS) That’s a very sweet request…not at all, of course I don’t mind.
I am neither a playwright, nor a novelist. I don’t know if I can tell a good story.
I hope I can fulfill my princess’ expectations.
…Hm, what should I talk about?
Well then…what about a man who lives forever?
So many things going on here, and no I will not remove my commentary because it’s essential to recreating the experience for the poor souls who will never hear the majesty of his seiyuu’s acting. Truly Horie-san exists to bring Comte to life and I hope he knows I owe him a blood debt.
ANYWHO so like. The way he’s delighted to indulge her (screaming and crying and throwing up why is he so cute??????). But not only that, the self-conscious bent of how he says “I don’t know if I can tell a good story.” I feel like it’s easy to forget that Comte is very much the type of person who prefers to blend into the background; he doesn’t seem to like or be in the habit of drawing a great deal of attention. He likes MC’s attention but I think that’s not really comparable, he’s very specific about who he shares himself with/seeks attention from.
Also I will say. I’ve never really been the type to like the term of endearment “princess” (he literally says hime in the CD) but. Because it is Comte and his adorable face that I want to squish between my hands, I will allow it. He’s a silly goose and he’s more than enough, I love him sm.
Following that he goes into his life up to that point, and because a lot of it is a bit repetitive I might leave bits and pieces out. I do want to highlight a few lines--mostly because they give insight into his character construction that might not have been as obvious in the main story.
A long time ago, so far away that even memories can grow dim…a man was born into a certain aristocratic family.
The family had a great secret. They weren’t human--they were pureblood vampires.
A person who was born with the promise of eternal life.
A person who had the capacity to pursue every pleasure in this world forever.
…But there are always two sides to everything.
…The endless life was, in other words, a prison made of time.
To have met and parted countless times with his loved ones,
The man’s chest ached with loneliness, overwrought by the emptiness.
He had no choice but to watch the world pass him by in endless hours.
I think there is. Something so haunted and fascinating in the words “But there are always two sides to everything.” Even more so because in his literal main story, he openly says “The brighter the light, the deeper the shadows”; always returning to this idea that all things in life are dual in nature. For all that you see one quality, the opposite exists as well. Interesting too because I feel like it explains a lot of his deep-seated anxieties about waiting for the other shoe to drop. Where love exists, loss exists as well. Where joy exists, so does pain. Where fulfillment is possible, so is emptiness. I think it makes a lot of sense that, when you live in an endless expanse of time, perhaps the scariest aspect of it is the constant fluctuation and change. Life is fun when things are going well, but what happens when the painful parts stretch so long? How do you cope?
Just things that keep me up at night yk.
I also think it’s fascinating the way he speaks about his immortality. In Leonardo, we see him address it as something that is monstrous and unnatural. He feels it is an abomination, something to be rectified or removed, almost. Comte doesn’t seem to share that view entirely. He says “He had no choice but to watch the world pass him by.” The removal of agency here is something that I want to highlight. Leonardo sees immortality and his identity as something that has to be reviled; there is a self-retaliatory nature to it in my view. Since he can’t fight against it, he fights against himself. Comte’s words speak more to dissociative terror; to force disconnection from your own body/mind because the pain of your entrapment or the threat to your life is so great. And tbh it’s brilliantly tied back to his lifestyle.
Comte uses the repercussions of his trauma two-fold. To seek out parties and novelties on one level expertly cloaks him in the mien of someone who is a devil-may-care product of overwhelmingly sustained privilege. But on another, I think it’s reasonable to argue that he seeks these things out with two other motives in mind; protection and grounding. He openly tells MC that his greater motive in attending parties is to seek out information to understand who to support on the world stage. This tells us that he does operate on a political level, if only to ensure the safety of his family--but I suspect it is also his way of moving the tides of fate around him in more benevolent directions. Furthermore, keeping himself engaged in something ensures that he is not left alone with his thoughts for too long and keeps him rooted in the present moment, something he also admits to struggling with. (And is a core feature of more extreme dissociation, the endless struggle to live in the present moment.)
I suppose I’m just incredibly interested in the way Leonardo regards himself with such self-hatred and revulsion, where Comte just seems so…removed. Not that Comte is empty of self-contempt, only that it does not feel quite as charged as Leonardo’s. I guess for me it more evokes the image of a child locking himself in a secret hideaway. Where Leonardo lashes out, Comte is the opposite; he retreats/hides. The only time he chooses to fight is when he’s protecting someone else (screams and cries, pls don’t get me started on his righteous fury I could go on for years, every time I remember Jeanne’s rt I’m 👌🏼 close to sobbing).
I also still don’t know how to reconcile the fact that his room is deadass filled with hourglasses (bruh), yet he says “…The endless life was, in other words, a prison made of time.” Like. Something something is his room considered the prison made of time ????? Because if that’s the case my god I’m throwing them all out. Then again it could be his attempt at controlling that which he fears, which I can respect considering I too delude myself into thinking I can control shit I can’t to face the impossibilities of the universe…
After that, Comte starts to explain the agreement he and Vlad made. Honestly it really is a summary for the most part, but there is a section I find worth discussing:
They wanted to create a person who would not die, and would continue to shine with their unique talents.
Without realizing how arrogant it was, they tried to find meaning in this life lived forever.
But…it didn’t go well.
Until there was a sizable rift between the old friends--and they parted ways.
They both loved humans, and worried about their future…they should have felt the same way.
…regardless, all that was left was a door that could cross time and space freely.
What I find interesting about all this is how Comte processes the conflict that transpired between them. Granted there is always the possibility that he’s not addressing everything he’s feeling (the man is REPRESSED) but there’s something that stands out to me when he says “they should have felt the same way.” I feel like when people have a fight with someone they tend to be pretty preoccupied that the other side was wrong; Vlad certainly is desperate to prove he was in the “right.” Comte doesn’t seem interested in that at all. He seems more confused, as if he simply doesn’t understand who Vlad is anymore. Like he doesn’t recognize the person who once cherished human life as much as he did (which I do have some contention with; I’m really not sure Vlad ever did love humanity the way Comte did. Perhaps Comte had believed it was so because he so deeply wished to have friend to comfort and understand him in his pain). I don’t think it’s that Vlad isn’t capable of caring about humans, more that--following the massacre of his clan at the very least--he has too great an interest in retaliation to be able to interact with them without power abuse happening.
I do say this fully understanding that Vlad probably saw some fked up shit, I’m just saying objectively the man sees humanity in an adversarial lens, an oppositional force. Comte tends to be more neutral/positive; he’s more interested in working to a common goal and identifies more closely with them psychologically speaking.
I also find it interesting he says their goal was “arrogant.” Recently I’ve been thinking about the complexities of arrogance. I think it can be easy to oversimplify it as shallow motives that are only focused on self-aggrandizement, but I think it can develop in even more complex situations--often with the best of intentions. I think Comte is trying to say that, while they wanted to preserve lives that were inspiring and uplifting to others, there is folly in the idea that only a few people can manage that.
People and life in general are multi-faceted things; so many influences and variables act upon them. It is more sustainable to be a single unit of immovable, radical mindfulness and extend that outwards. I don’t think there’s anything wrong with people working together to achieve that goal, only that the responsibility for changing the world can’t fall on a handful of shoulders. It requires everyone to care and think more critically about their behavior, with the help of the people around them (ideally). There is arrogance in the belief that they had control over the fate of the world--an arrogance Vlad will not relinquish, one that continues to get him into trouble and lost him his oldest friend.
Aight and because that’s enough of my brainworms, this track ends with:
And the door brought another important encounter…that’s you. :>
Now, you know what I mean, don’t you? That’s right…that’s the story until you and I met each other in our destiny.
But that was only the beginning…now, we move forward together.
Our very sweet, and happy love story.
I just…………like I know I say it over and over again, but the way he just fills me to bursting with uwus. Another important encounter, a life-changing one for him…that a new story is being written, one that they get to write together. That “we move forward together” in a “very sweet, and happy love story.” It’s nearly like a fairy tale but somehow it doesn’t feel contrived or hokey when he says it, it just fills me with warmth. I think I just love that, for all his initial hesitations, he really doesn’t waver when he’s decided on something he wants. And if MC is willing to bet on him, he’s ready to up the ante.
All right well that about sums up track 1, next one to come is track 2! Enjoy these musings until then~
#ikevamp#ikemen vampire#ikevamp comte#ikevamp saint germain#ikevamp meta#ikevamp drama cd#fangdad propaganda#oh yeah and some leonardo meta if you squint#ikevamp leonardo#honestly i'd like to thank cybird for giving me a hundred more reasons to love comte#it's not like i necessarily needed more fuel but by god do i go feral#especially since he gets a bit more monopolizing as the event stories go on#MMMMMM BOY I DIE#god and kazuma horie..........#the way he is just so good at the 'hahahahaha court jester aristocrat' to 'baby girl/panty smashing ho'#the man sends me to the stratosphere i sincerely can't imagine comte with any other voice at this point#when he laughs im just 'i need a moment' **bawls my eyes out**#truly a man who understood his assignment#that being said stay tuned for the other six tracks#ya girl is off to take a nap#being comte's simp is a full time job and i am dedicated
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You ever so starved for platonic content of your newest babygirl you take the matter into your own hands and write something for the first time in almost a year?
Betaed by my loveliest partner in crime @feroluce!
#this is exactly what it says on the tin#by which i mean in the tags#i thought my latest fic was peak niche but this comes very close to being a contender#but then again i only feel motivated to write something to completion when i really have to cook my own food#so here's kaveh and aether having a good time for once in their life#especially in kaveh's case#genshin impact#genshin#kaveh#aether#paimon is there too because we love and appreciate her#another fic joins the 'i wrote this for me but you can read it too' gang#my first gen fic on the aconyte account but i'm pretty sure aconyte is just my main account now#i don't feel like going back to the other one#whatever my brain yeets out is going there from now on#stay tuned from the next one in six to ten business months probably#which will be for a fandom and feature characters#i do not control the speed at which my brain decides to put out fics#at this point it's like. writes one fic for a fandom. uploads it. disappears immediately. rinse and repeat.#i am the writing cryptid#ray's babbles
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HEY YA’LL, I’m still fucking alive and its something I’m celebrating today!! 🌈✨💕🌻
#but seriously I made it out alive and I mean that 100% literally#the last six months have been hellish because I have no boundaries and no idea how to not throw myself into the fire to keep others warm#I need to stop trying to save people#it isn’t my job. I’m more then what I can offer. I am a full person who deserves to focus on herself.#survival#freedom#individuality#mental health#happiness#it’s gonna take a long time to get back to who I was mentally and physically but I know I can do it#I got really lost for a while. honestly. I’ve been battling suicidial ideation HARD all summer#this isn’t okay. I shouldn’t be looking into mental institutions to check myself into.#I’ve been so scared and lonely and hating myself. but I’m starting the process of fixing it. I’m gonna be better#I’m going to choose to live. I’m getting out of that situation and never looking back.#they’re not malicious but hurt people hurt people. it’s time to stop burning the house down.#personal#growth#development#stay tuned friends#weed#stoner#girls who smoke#thc#cannabis#maryjane#green#smoke#drug#cannababes#ganjagirls
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The beauty in personal death and times of transition
Healing through tarot ✧☾゜・。
With the fallen leaves and the days getting colder, we as a collective get to dive deeper not only in the darkness of the world, but also of our unconscious. First entering this path through the fall equinox, then relishing in the supernatural sorrow of our past while celebrating Halloween and Day of the Dead, and finally preparing for the dark night of the soul that comes with the winter solstice.
And while this is the path that we go to every single year symbolically with the constant changing of the seasons, the energy of rebirth and transitions has never been more prevalent before. After two years of the pandemic, we have experienced loss and most recently various stages of grief and despair, fighting to understand our emotions in a way that allows us to go back into the world after the suffocating isolation. And while we are allowed to leave our houses and connect with people once again, most of us are still healing from the inner and outer battles that came with those difficult times.
From losing a loved one, harsh economic problems, experiencing heartbreak, or simply feeling disconnected from the world, the wounds caused by the pandemic are still present in our everyday lives. However, it’s in the recovery process that we must remember not to fall prey to sadness and despair because, while they are very important emotions and stages of the healing soul, they should be just that, stages. Saturnian energy comes to mind in these situations, for it’s the highest and most feared of the malefic planets that gives the most beautiful and abundant rewards. Saturn does this by teaching us the beauty in the pain, sorrow, and limitations that we experience, for its only through difficult paths that we are able to overcome our weaknesses and emotions, making us stronger.
Therefore, to stay strong through our personal winter, we must remember that our lives, just like the wheel of fortune tells us, are in constant and eternal rotation of both positive and negative cycles. The same way we see the changing of the seasons and the cycling of night through day, it is safe to say that we mirror the cosmos itself with the little deaths we get to experience. And while the Death card is a beautiful representation of the transitions that happen between one state of being into another, I wanted to explore the wisdom that some of the other cards in the tarot can give us in regards the same themes of personal transformation, helping us deal with both the beauty and discomfort of our rebirths.
⋆𓆩 6 of Swords 𓆪⋆
The 6 of swords can be considered the most positive representation of the human mind, for it shows it in perfect balance and dancing in harmony with our heart’s desires. And while this card can have different interpretations, its main theme is of reconciliation with our own thoughts, allowing for a swift transition into a new era of our lives. Just like the intimidating sharpness of a sword, it’s the intense activity of our mind that demands total control and confidence, for depending on how we use our thoughts, they can cut through any difficulty or instead be used against us, causing our demise.
This card teaches us that if we are willing to leave the painful past behind and make peace with ourselves, our thoughts become allies instead of enemies, allowing us to remain strong and victorious even through the most difficult times, making the impossible possible. Suddenly we realize that with self-forgiveness and by leaving negative beliefs behind, we have the opportunity of a new start.
⋆𓆩 8 of Cups 𓆪⋆
After the fight and reconciliation of our own mind, we enter our own heart and find all the hurt that has been building up, begging to be poured into the world. We find the ocean of our emotions completely polluted by the venom of our sorrow, making us realize that the path we’ve been walking so far has reached an end and that, if we don’t take another course, we might as well drown in our own pain. The 8 of cups is an omen of an inevitable ending, and the discomfort and sadness that comes with such realization.
This card asks us to look around and, while holding our hand and wiping our tears, helping us accept the fact that to find true happiness and fulfilment we need to surrender and move on to new horizons. It’s only through diving deep into the profound waters of our emotions that we are able to see that the stagnation and hopelessness of our situation is actually a blessing in disguise, turning us away from past structures and false purposes and guiding us into following the voice of our soul.
⋆𓆩 10 of Swords 𓆪⋆
If the last two cards were premonitions of the needed change necessary for our lives and sense of self to get better, the 10 of swords is the card that finally describes the final blow that makes that change happen, destroying anything that is no longer good for us and being the last incentive for us to perform a daring act of transformation. This card, with its sharp blade and swiftness, cuts through anything that no longer serves us, signalizing the painful breakdown that leads to a final conclusion and end to a cycle.
Most people fear this card the most, terrorized by the corpse of the stabbed man mortally bleeding, however, if we look closely, we can realize that the man is not in pain, tense or fighting back, but instead he is at peace and surrendering to this drastic death. He knows that death is only the beginning and the birth of new possibilities, and therefore asks us to surrender blissfully to transformation in the same way, leaving behind whatever we have built attached to our egos.
At the end of the day, when all is said and done, we are nothing more than ash and stardust. All of our pain, sorrow and sadness, as well as the happiness and joy we experience in life, are nothing more than a beautiful dream the cosmos is having of itself. So, once we have reached the lowest point possible and we are feeling completely drained, tired, and defeated with nothing more to lose… we might as well risk a new beginning, rejoicing on the endless possibilities that now lie ahead of us.
I hope to whoever gets to read this not only gets to find a new change in perspective of the tarot, but also of the situations they’ve gone through in the past and in the present. Realizing that no matter how much darkness and pain we get to experience, they are situations we must embrace and hug daringly for they are blessings in disguise, guiding us and making us stronger for a new, brighter, and more beautiful dawn.
P.S. This text contains references from Phantasmagoria by Ian Daniels, several articles and videos made by Claire Nakti, videos and teachings made by Raecine Wilkinson, and different speeches, songs and videos made by Selena Gomez. All talking in various different ways about how we can heal our hurtful souls through their different visions and areas of expertise.
If anyone wants to explore the themes of both spirituality and the beauty of healing and transformation, I’ll leave below a small list of different media in which one can learn these themes from both a spiritual perspective and a more pop culture one. (At least the ones I could remember at the moment). Thanks for reading and take it one day at a time.
✦ Books:
Phantasmagoria – Ian Daniels
✦ YouTube Channels:
Claire Nakti
OwlMoon513
TheWizardLiz
Amber Scholl <3
✦ Documentaries:
My Mind & Me, Selena Gomez
✦ TV Series:
Midnight Mass
The Haunting of Hill House
The Haunting of Bly Manor
The Good Place
The Sandman
✦ Movies:
Only Lovers Left Alive
Corpse Bride
Cinderella
Howl’s Moving Castle
Legally Blonde
Mary Shelley
Breakfast at Tiffany’s
Spencer
✦ Songs:
The entire Rare Album by Selena Gomez
probably almost any Taylor Swift song ever written lol
#my first article!#if someone actually read this thank you#lol#been going through some stuff the past months#but instead of trauma dumping I wanted to help others that felt the same#but idk#hope this helps#also my list of recommended media is not the biggest#I hope my recommendations are not basic lol#but they are the ones that have helped me so#idk#anyway#there’s more articles coming in the future!#stay tuned#article#articles#The beauty in personal death and times of transition#healing through tarot#six of swords#6 of swords#eight of cups#8 of cups#ten of swords#10 of swords#TheSiren'sOracle#TheSirensOracle#tarot#tarotblr#tarotcommunity#tarot article
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Tomorrow/Friday is the anniversary of one of the weirdest days of my life, yippee!
#we have the dress rehearsal for my schools department-wide cheistmas concert tomorrow right. and then the actual concert will be friday#they do it this way every year and last year’s dress rehearsal. holy shit.#it was the same day our portfolio for the creative writing class was due. i’d stayed up until like six am working on my second short story#and then had to wake up three hours later to finish putting all the other shit we had to turn in with it together. was so focused on that i#forgot to eat all day. so i roll up to the dress rehearsal running on three hours of sleep a coffee and desperation and then as we’re tuning#a bunch of MIDDLE SCHOOLERS start wandering into the audience because apparently they have been invited to sit in on our dress rehearsal.#then we made one too many mistakes in our hard song and our director stops us. in the middle of a full Tun with a bunch of middle schoolers#and the entire rest of the music department as an audience. this just stresses us out More so when we restart we’re even worse than before#this pushes our director to the breaking point and about five minutes later between songs he starts SCREAMING at percussion between songs#terrible night 0/10 he traumatized the entire band#anyways fingers crossed tomorrows rehearsal goes better than. that. not that it should be hard but yiiikes
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Making Sure: 12 Days of Smut #3 - Sex Pollen
Bucky Barnes x Reader One-Shot
Summary: Bucky is exposed to a sex pollen while the two of you are snowed in, stuck in a cabin in the Swiss Alps after finishing up a mission. Oh, and of course, you happen to be his ex-girlfriend.
Warnings: profanity, dubcon (sex pollen), possessive!Bucky, breeding kink, unprotected sex, mutual pining of sorts, some use of y/n, MINORS DNI, 18+!!!
Feel free to comment and let me know if this requires any other warnings.
Word Count: 4k
A/N: My laptop decided it didn't want to turn on today, and then when it finally turned on it didn't want to run any apps so 12 Days of Smut almost became 11 Days of Smut. But anyway, let me know if you guys like this one! For once, it doesn't involve anyone hating anyone or an obscene amount of unbearable tension (which I severely miss).
It’s not all that hard to work with your ex, not when you ended on decent terms. Well, as decent as they could have been. When Bucky broke up with you three months ago, it wasn’t completely out of the blue. You hadn’t been having any problems, you never had any fights, but you knew he was never as into the relationship as you were. He had said from the very beginning that he didn’t think he ever wanted a lifelong commitment. The majority of his life had been spent without having true freedom to make his own decisions. It’s safe to say the man only had about six years of making decisions for himself, between turning eighteen and joining the army. Then the army had a say in everything he did until he was taken by HYDRA. HYDRA controlled him for so long, and honestly, they still have some form of control over him if you consider his nightmares and insomnia issues. So, when things started to feel a little too serious between you two, when Bucky started to realize that he actually loved you, that’s when he called it off.
You’d both agreed to keep the relationship between yourselves, remaining professional at work and around the others. Even Sam had never figured it out. Bucky was so good at keeping it hidden, staying completely stoic unless he was positive you were both alone. When things ended between you two, he became stoic all the time. There have been a few times where you’ve felt a bit angry with how easily he can just shut himself off and pretend like you never had anything between you. You think you might’ve been in love with him. How can you be stoic around him when you loved him? You can’t be. So, instead of being stoic, you’re just a little more quiet than usual. You get your job done, you speak to him as professionally as you can, and then you get away from him.
Unfortunately though, there’s no getting away from him tonight. Technically, your mission is already over. You broke into HYDRA’s only remaining functional lab, you stole at least one sample of each of the various compounds that they were working on, and then you got the hell out of there. You made it all the way back to the safehouse, a small rustic cabin a little ways up in the Swiss Alps. It had been snowing for the last twenty-four hours that you’d been here, but the winter weather came to a head to today on your drive back from the break-in. By the time you got all of the samples safely inside the cabin, there was no way either of you could make the drive back down the mountain to reach the quinjet. You’re stuck here for the night.
“I want them kept at a pretty low temperature overnight, well below thirty degrees.” Bruce has been watching you over a video call as you’ve been cataloging the samples and packing them safely into a padded case. “It’d probably be best to leave them all in the trunk of the car, since it’s so cold out there.” Bucky’s sitting in the living area while you’re working at the kitchen table, but he’s still listening in. He’s listened for the last half hour as you labeled the samples and hummed a little Christmas tune to yourself. Truthfully, he almost forgot that Christmas is in a few days until he heard you humming that song that you love so much. What was it? He can never remember the name, but he recognizes it from last Christmas. You sang it often and he was lucky enough to still be yours then, to still get the privilege of listening to you flit around the tower so festively, infecting everyone around with your cheerful spirit.
“They all fit in the case except for one, but it should be fine. I’ll just stick it in the trunk next to the case and slip it into my bag tomorrow before we drive out.” You say, holding up the thin glass flask containing a very watery, clear liquid. It looks the least terrifying, out of all of the chemicals you retrieved from the lab today.
“Good work today, we’ll see you guys back here tomorrow, if the weather permits.” Bruce gives a little wave before ending the video call. Just as you’re closing the heavy black case of samples, Bucky rises from his seat on the couch and joins you in the kitchen.
“I’ll take them out.” He offers, staying a few feet away from you but at least making eye contact with you. He doesn’t seem to look at you very often since you broke up, but you can’t complain about it. It makes it a little easier to get over him when you’re not drowning in his blue eyes. You give him a curt nod before sliding the case across the table and then setting the sealed flask of clear liquid on top of it.
“Try not to jostle them around too much, carry it with two hands.”
“Got it, two hands.” Bucky repeats. You watch as he lifts the case, leaving the glass flask resting on the lid. You think about carrying the lone chemical out there in your own hands, worrying that Bucky might tip the case a little too far and let the flask fall to the ground outside, but you brush off the worry. He’s never been clumsy, and he sure as hell hasn’t ever been careless. It’ll be fine. It’s just a short walk from the front door to the back of the car.
In retrospect, you should’ve listened to your instincts.
When Bucky rushes in the front door only a minute after he’s stepped outside with the chemicals, a sickening feeling settles deep in your stomach. You quickly turn to the source of commotion as he slams the door shut behind him and starts nearly jogging across the cabin, heading straight for the bathroom at the end of the hall.
“Bucky? What happened?” You call out, your feet carrying you down the hall after him. Bucky strips off his coat, dropping it on the floor in the hall before throwing the bathroom door open and ripping off his shirt. He doesn’t even close the bathroom door. You step over his coat and come to a stop in the doorway as he leans down and turns on the shower.
“Stay back.” He warns, giving you a sideways glance that makes your stomach flip. “I slipped on a patch of ice and the little glass thing on top of the case fell and shattered. Whatever was in it evaporated quick, but I inhaled a lot of it. I don’t know if I got any on me.”
Shit. This is not good. Bucky starts unbuckling his belt, but stops himself after he gets it undone, finally turning and looking you straight in the eye. Right. You’re not together anymore.
“Only rinse, don’t use soap. We don’t know what the chemical was or what might interact with it.” You say, forcing your voice to sound calmer than you feel. Bucky nods, and then shuts the door between the two of you. Shit. You knew you should’ve carried that damn flask yourself.
---
Half an hour later, after Bucky’s finished showering and is resting on the couch per yours and Bruce’s orders, he begins to feel something. He wanted to go to bed, just sleep it off and see how he felt in the morning, but you and Bruce insisted that he stay in the living room and awake so you could monitor him for any weird signs or symptoms. You miss the first few symptoms that Bucky begins to feel. First, his heart rate began picking up. It was so miniscule at first that even he didn’t notice it, but it increased more and more until he could hear his heartbeat pounding in his ears. Then, even in the chilly little cabin with a near-blizzard raging outside, Bucky began to feel hot. Hot to the point of wanting to take off everything he was wearing and go lay in the snow. Now he sits on the couch, breathing a little quicker than he was earlier, with beads of sweat forming on the back of his neck. It’s his increased respiratory rate that you notice first. Then, as you begin looking him over from your far away seat at the kitchen table, you see the way his cheeks are flushed and the way his dark gray t-shirt is beginning to stick to the sweat coming off of his back. Shit. Whatever it was that he was exposed to, it sure as hell wasn’t nothing.
You’re just about to ask Bucky what he’s feeling when he abruptly stands from the couch and looks right at you, his gaze wild and pupils blown.
“Bucky—” You start, but he cuts you off in an instant.
“I don’t know what was in that flask, but I’ll be fine. I’m not going to sit out here all night.” Bucky’s trying to play it off. He has no fucking idea if he’ll actually be fine, but the newest physiological response his body is having to the chemical isn’t one he wants you to become aware of. He’s aroused. His cock is harder than it’s ever been, and he’d rather sleep outside on the icy road and get run over by Santa’s fucking sleigh then stay this close to you. He worries he won’t be able to control himself if he has to look at you one more time tonight, if he even hears another breath leave your lips, he’ll be done for.
“Bucky, tell me what you’re feeling.” You say softly, pushing your chair away from the table and standing, but not daring to move any closer to where he stands in the living room. He scrunches his eyes closed and presses his vibranium hand to the back of his neck in an attempt to cool the skin there.
“Y/n, I’m going to bed.” He sounds so frustrated. It’s a tone of voice you actually recognize. This is how he used to sound when you’d tease him at the worst times, when you were somewhere that restricted him from being able to touch you, to fuck you.
“Is it what I think it is?” You ask, your voice impossibly quieter than before. Bucky’s eyes snap open now and he studies you. Looking at you makes his dick throb and his balls feel so fucking full and heavy. He closes his eyes again as quickly as he opened them and then, you’re sure. It was a fucking sex pollen.
You don’t dare make a move to stop Bucky when he hurries down the hall and locks himself in his bedroom. You stand frozen in the kitchen for the next two minutes, trying to figure out what the hell you should be doing in a situation like this. You end up doing what you do best: researching. You sit yourself right back down at the table and open your laptop, quickly accessing the online archive of SHIELD research files. You type in every word you can possibly think of to find what you need. Luckily, the first article that pops up is exactly what you needed.
You skim through it at lightning speed, your eyes picking up on the important details. Heightened senses, increases sexual drive ten-fold, may result in permanent disability or death if state of intense arousal is not rectified. Shit, this is bad. You’re wondering how the hell one is supposed to rectify the intense arousal when your eyes land on the most key piece of information in the entire article. Human trials have revealed that allowed the specimen to engage in sexual intercourse is the only successful way to return to a normotensive physiological state.
You have to fuck. You have to convince him to have sex with you. You have to convince the man who broke up with you three months ago to have sex with you. You’ve suddenly decided that you fucking hate your job.
However, you’re not going to sit around while Bucky becomes permanently disabled or lets himself die of exposure to a damn HYDRA sex pollen. So, you slam your laptop shut and march right down the hall. You tap your knuckles against his bedroom door three times, until you hear the bed creak slightly, so you at least know he’s alive. He doesn’t make a single move to answer the door. He’s sitting on the side of the bed, his hands gripping the edge of the mattress so hard that it’ll probably never spring back into shape. His sense of hearing is heightened so much that he can hear every breath you take. He thinks he can even hear the sound of your eyelashes fluttering as you blink.
“Bucky, I did some research.” God, just the sound of your voice might be enough to make him cum in his sweats. Bucky bites his bottom lip and looks down at where his erection is fighting to escape the confines of his sweats. “If this is a sex pollen, which I think we both know it is, it can kill you. The only way to fix this is to…” Your voice trails off, but you don’t have to finish your sentence for Bucky to know what the solution is here. But he won’t ask that of you. He refuses to ask you to sleep with him. He knows he broke your heart three months ago, and he’d be the world’s biggest asshole if he used you for relief now. So, he stays silent. “We could…”
You can’t seem to finish any of your sentences. Why is it so hard for you to say we could fuck. Oh, right. Because you’ve missed the way he fucks for months. Because you know that if he wasn’t under the influence of this chemical right now, he sure as hell wouldn’t be turned on around you. You’d happily have sex with him right now, but he’d only be doing it because he has to do it to survive.
“I know I’m probably the last person that you’d want to be offering this, but I’m offering. I don’t want you to sit in there and die.” You say softly, your voice cracking a little bit on the final word. The last person he’d want to be offering this? Fuck, you have no idea how he really feels, do you? Bucky screws his eyes shut and fights back the urge to throw the door open and tell you how much he fucking loves you, how much he’s missed you. It’s why he broke up with you in the first place. What if something happened one day that turned him right back into the Winter Soldier? What if he ended up on ice again and by the time he came out of cryo, you were dead and gone? He had to break up with you, because he felt like his future was always too unclear to promise it to someone.
“I’m here, Bucky, if you need me.” You whisper, with your forehead pressed against the cool wood of the door. He can tell that you’re hurting for him. It’s why, against his rational mind, he finds himself crossing the room and tugging the door open. When he sees you standing there in the light of the hallway, he can hear that little Christmas tune that you love so much playing in his head. Fuck it.
You’ve barely had a second to realize that Bucky’s just opened the door for you before you feel his hand fist in your hair and he yanks you forward against his chest. His mouth captures yours in a heated kiss. Bucky sucks your bottom lip between his and wastes no time in using his hold on your hair to tilt your head to the side and slide his tongue into your mouth. You act on muscle memory, kissing him the same way you used to every single day. You let his tongue dance around your mouth, but when he begins to pull back you suck on it lightly, earning a groan from him. He tastes just like you remember, and suddenly you want him so badly that for all you know you could have some sex pollen coursing through your veins.
“The last person I’d want to be offering this?” Bucky rasps against your lips, briefly looking into your eyes as he repeats your words in question. “You’re the only person I’d want to be offering this.” He pulls on your hair again, tilting your head further to the side and sucking on the skin right below your ear. Your eyes close as you try to calm your racing heart, reminding yourself that as perfect as this might feel right now, it won’t last.
It takes mere seconds for Bucky to pull you into his room and practically throw you onto his bed. When he crawls over you a second later, it’s like he’s suddenly realized you both still have your clothes on. He stands back up beside the bed and strips quickly, exposing every bit of his fucking heavenly body to you. You don’t even try to choke back the whimper that leaves your lips. Bucky freezes when he hears it. He’s heard it before. He’s heard it in his dreams, ever since you broke up. It’s sort of funny. He never had dreams before, only nightmares. Until he broke up with you, and then he started having dreams about you every night. They’ve replaced nearly every nightmare. Instead of HYDRA being the reason he’s up at night, it’s all you.
You start shimmying out of your pants right there on the bed as you look at Bucky, too impatient to stand up and take everything off like he did. He strokes his cock slowly in one hand, but every time his palm glides over the tip he makes a face like he’s in pain. You know from your brief research that touching himself won’t give him an ounce of relief, it’ll only make things worse. So, once you have your pants off, you reach up and grab his wrist, stopping his stroking, and pulling him closer to the bed. He gets the hint and positions himself on top of you again, spreading your legs apart with his knee before settling between them.
“I’ve missed you.” Bucky coos against the side of your neck, right as you feel the head of his cock brushing against your clit through your already soaked panties. He didn’t mean to say it. He doesn’t want to make the break up any harder for you, but fuck. He’s missed having you under him like this, though in the past you never kept your panties and shirt on when you were under him.
“I’ve been right here.” You respond quietly, letting your hands coast down his sides until you feel the way his back muscles are rigid underneath your palms. He’s restraining himself. “Bucky, you don’t have to hold back.” He sighs deeply and grinds his cock against you, hard. It draws a moan from your lips that’s so needy, Bucky can’t wait any longer. He knows he’s only waited a minute at this point, but he just can’t anymore. He reaches down between the two of you and snags a finger in your panties, deftly pulling them to the side and guiding his cock straight into you without warning. The cry that escapes you isn’t one of pain or surprise, it’s one of pure lust. It might’ve been three months since the last time you had sex, but your body accepts his cock like it never left. There’s no pain, there’s only pleasure as he starts fucking into you slowly. He builds the pace up in mere seconds, speeding up more and more until he’s fucking you so hard and fast that the headboard is snapping against the wall and scratching the paint.
“God, you’re still so fucking tight for me.” He groans, burying himself balls deep inside you. He stays still for a moment, letting your pussy grip his cock like a vice.
“It’s still yours.” You whisper the words against his jawline. When his eyes snap open and stare straight into yours, you know you probably shouldn’t have said it. His pupils are already overly dilated, but they expand a little more as possessiveness flares in his chest. He always loved when you let him know who your pussy belonged to. He fucking loved it.
Wait. The realization hits you both at the same time. He isn’t wearing a condom. As he looks into your eyes, his face falls and your eyes widen. He never once fucked you without a condom on. It was part of his whole no-long-term-commitment thing. He didn’t want to risk an unintentional pregnancy, so he never let himself fuck you raw. When he starts to pull out, you’re quick to wrap your legs around him and lock him in place.
“Don’t.” You plead. You want this. You’ve always wanted this. Bucky bites his bottom lip and closes his eyes, trying to find a single rational thought in his mind. He knows he shouldn’t do this, he knows he should pull out and find a fucking condom. But will he?
The answer is no. He uses what little space you give him between your legs to start thrusting into you again, slower this time, but still every bit as deep as before.
“If you don’t let me pull out…” He starts, but you pull his face down to yours and silence him with a kiss. After a few seconds, he picks up his pace and begins fucking you relentlessly once again, further ruining the paintjob on the bedroom wall behind the headboard.
“I always wanted you to fuck me like this.” You sigh against his lips. You feel Bucky’s entire body tense up as he nears his release, your words egging him on.
“Oh, baby, I always wanted to fuck you like this.” He admits, snapping his hips into yours and getting you that much closer to the edge. As your orgasm threatens to tear through you, something weighs heavy on Bucky’s mind. He wants to cum inside you. He loves you but he’s always told himself he can’t have you, because his future is so unclear, he can’t make promises to you and possibly break them. But…he’s a good guy. If he were to knock you up, he’d do the right thing. The traditional thing. He’d marry you and take such good care of you, of the little family you’d have together. Maybe that’s what he should do. He thinks that maybe if he gets you pregnant right now, it would force him to give you his future, no matter how much it scares him. He’d be so much more concerned with doing the right thing in the present, rather than worrying about what might happen in the future. “Let me cum inside you.”
“You can, Bucky. You can cum inside me.” You moan out, locking your ankles together behind him and pulling him harder against you. He groans and presses another kiss to your lips, but a gentler one this time.
“You’ll have a baby for me.” He doesn’t even phrase it as a question, no, he’s telling you what you’ll do. “You’ll let me get you pregnant, and then you’ll be mine.”
“Fuck…” The curse falls from your lips as bliss surges through you. You can’t even find the words to say what you want to say, which is fuck yes. So, you lay there submissively, with your legs wrapped around him as he fucks every drop of cum that he has into you. Then, you catch your breath while he pulls his cock out of you and slides your panties back over your sore cunt. You even let him pile the pillows beneath your hips and legs, elevating your pelvis to make sure his cum won’t drip back out of you.
Fuck. He really wants to make sure you’re pregnant after this.
TAG LIST (if your user has a line through it, Tumblr wouldn't let me tag you):
@gyokujyn @mrsjoequinn @thealloveru2 @nixxaswrld @ordelixx @sweettae02 @frombkjar @hellfirebabe @edelweissbarnes @sunnyhummingbee @jenniferpendragon @siciliano13 @crist1216 @twlkdead
#bucky barnes smut#bucky barnes fic#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes fanfiction#mcu#bucky barnes x you#marvel#bucky barnes#the winter soldier#winter soldier#12 days of smut
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MY LOVE, IS MINE ALL MINE
—PART SIX
Pairing: Lucifer Morningstar x Fallen Angel! Fem! Reader
Fandom: Hazbin Hotel
Warnings: none
Notes: sorry it took awhile^^" this is a long chapterr and Happy Valentine's day everyone<3
Word count: 2.5k
PART ONE | PART FIVE | PART SEVEN
It has been two days since [y/n] started living with Lucifer in the palace of hell that is located in the pride circle. It's awkward to say the least, it has been years since... Well, they spent time with each other.
Lucifer on the other hand is very overprotective over her, making sure she's alright even though she has already fully healed herself.
Both fallen angels spent most of their time just talking and catching up with one another. Lucifer shared to her what happened with his marriage and [y/n] sharing to him what happened to her in heaven when he was gone and she also told him about her time at the hotel with Charlie.
Currently the two are in the living room of the palace, Lucifer's head on [y/n]'s lap as she plays with his hair. Fingers weaving through silky blond locks, soft against her fingertips. Lucifer's eyes are closed as he enjoys the sensation of her fingers running through his hair and massaging his scalp. He misses this so much, it brought back a sense of deja vu to him. Reminding him of the past where he and [y/n] would just be lying down on the clouds, cloud gazing while she plays with his hair and his head on her lap. Lucifer wonders what his life would be if he chose to stay in heaven and didn't break any rules. Would he have been happy with [y/n]? Lucifer mentally asked himself, realizing the thought made his cheeks warmed up.
[Y/n] raises an eyebrow as she watches the man shake his head to himself, laughing quietly to herself.
“What's got you thinking? I just saw you physically disagree with whatever thought you just had.” [y/n] says with a small chuckle, looking down on him. Strands of her hair falling off from her ear where she tucked them, silk like [h/c] locks caressing Lucifer's cheeks. Lucifer looks up and sees her gazing at him, curiosity in her eyes, her hair framing her face perfectly. She looked absolutely divine. Wait a minute, since when did he start looking at his best friend through heart shaped pink colored glasses?!
The realization made his jaw drop, [y/n] getting more confused as she placed her fingers underneath his chin to close his mouth again.
“Now I am really curious what's going on inside that head of yours.” [y/n] mutters, her hand had stopped playing with his hair moments ago.
Lucifer shakes his head, “It is nothing, just... Hell stuff...” he says awkwardly with a laugh, his fingers pulling his collar as it suddenly felt too tight around his neck.
[Y/n] looked at him with her eyebrow still raised but eventually sighs, deciding not to push him to say whatever is bothering him. “Whatever you say, Lu.” she says softly and the comfortable silence falls between them once more. [Y/n] humming a tune while she plays with his hair once more while Lucifer was having an internal conflict.
“It has been awhile since I've last visited the hotel, how about we go and see how the others are?” [y/n] murmurs softly, Lucifer opens his eyes to look at her. His red eyes dilated as he gazed up at her, a soft look on his face. He grins at her, showing her that toothy smile that she loves.
“What a wonderful idea, we should visit them!” Lucifer grins, excited to see his daughter again. Although, not really thrilled in seeing the other sinners. Especially that radio demon. He knows that the bastard would try to pull something that will annoy him.
Lucifer sighs once more, [y/n] wondering what got him to change his mood again. At this point she got used to it.
Sitting up, leaving the comfort of her lap. He sat and faced her, seeing her hair falling into her face, he gently tucks it behind her ear.
The two stared at each other a few seconds before quickly avoiding each other's gazes. Cheeks heating up.
“... Right, we should visit them right now” Lucifer says, clearing his throat awkwardly and [y/n] turns to look at him once more.
“Like... Right now..?” She asked with a raised eyebrow and he nodded.
[Y/n] clears her throat, trying to calm her fast beating heart. She expected this, her buried feelings now unraveling like petals of a newly bloomed flower.
Awkward...
Lucifer coughs awkwardly, turning around to look at her, “If you're ready, we can go right now...?” he suggested and [y/n] looked at him, slightly in deep thought.
“Can you give me some time to prepare something? I want to bring something to them when we visit.” [y/n] says softly and Lucifer sighed but gave her a gentle toothy smile.
“Alright.”
[Y/n] decided to use Lucifer's kitchen, the king of hell watching her as he leans against the door frame, admiring her figure as she puts on an apron. [Y/n] approaches him, turning around for her back to face him. The ties of the apron are still not tied.
Lucifer smiled and his hand gently worked with the ties of the apron, tying it securely. “I missed eating your cookies, I remember you used to bake me duck shaped cookies.” he says, nostalgia evident in his voice.
[Y/n] chuckles softly, remembering the memories. “Indeed, you often helped me when I baked.” she says and he smiled, turning around as he too wore an apron, [y/n] tying the ties of the apron.
With a flick of his fingers, Lucifer summoned the ingredients they needed. [Y/n]'s eyes sparkled in awe as she sees the ingredients now on the counter.
The two fallen angels began working on the sweets they planned on making, moving around the pristine kitchen. Working together side by side. Lucifer was tasked with whisking the dry ingredients with the wet ingredients. [Y/n] behind him, looming over his smaller body, her hand on his waist while her other hand held his hand that was holding the whisk. Guiding him on how to whisk it.
‘Goodness, she's so close.’ Lucifer thought nervously. His ears felt unbelievably warm.
“Just like that, good.” she murmurs, against his ears. Oh god, he feels like he's about to pass out.
Suddenly he's very hyper aware. He could feel the softness of her skin against his, her hair occasionally caressing his neck as she leans on his shoulder. The hand on his waist, the hand on his waist, the hand on hIS WAIST. Suddenly he could feel how hot his body was, his heart beating so erratically against his ribcage.
“Lu? Are you okay? You seem spaced out...” [y/n] says worriedly as she noticed the man seemed to freeze while whisking.
[Y/n]'s facial expression softens, admiring the man in front of her. He still looked beautiful as the day she lost him.
Removing her hand from his wrist, that hand gently cupped his cheek. Breaking him out of his thoughts, jumping slightly.
“Jesus... You surprised me.” He sighs, placing a hand over his chest to calm his fast beating heart. The golden organ beating against his ribcage.
[Y/n]'s eyes soften, “You spaced out for a second, I got worried.” she says softly, brushing away the strands of blond hair away from his face that was beginning to fall into his face.
“Are you okay?” she asked him worriedly and he gave her a gentle smile, nodding.
“I am alright, I was just... Thinking...” he answers, voice gentle. He wouldn't tell her that he was thinking about her. How he was basically thinking about her touch.
“If you say so...” she says hesitantly and they eventually return to baking.
They just made the classic chocolate cookies and also baked an apple pie.
They arranged the cookies and placed them into two rectangular boxes, they made enough for the hotel crew. [Y/n] carefully placed the apple pie on the cake container, allowing it to cool down first.
The two decided to change into a cleaner set of clothes as the ones they were wearing were dirtied when they were baking.
Lucifer gifted her clothes of course, she has her own room, a few doors away from his.
[Y/n] decided to wear a cute dress that was on her wardrobe, slipping it over her body. Applying some light makeup on her face. Grabbing a brush, her hand gently moving as she began to brush her hair.
After changing and meeting up in the living room, the two fallen angels didn't notice that they accidentally matched color schemes with their outfits.
Lucifer wore his usual white suit with red accents while [y/n] wore a white with red accents short dress that reaches her knees.
[Y/n] decided to carry the two boxes of cookies they've made, though, Lucifer wanted to be the one to carry it but the woman insisted as he would be the one to teleport them to the hotel.
Lucifer sighs but gives her an understanding smile, placing his arm behind her back and allowing his hand to rest on her waist. The action caught the woman off guard as she could feel heat creeping up to her cheeks.
Lucifer didn't notice how that simple action could fluster her so much, he thought it was nothing as he only wanted to make sure she teleports with him.
With a snap of his fingers, sparkling red smoke covered their bodies. The scenery of the palace's living room morphs as they teleport, now, they're in front of the Hazbin Hotel front doors.
Charlie was just discussing with the gang about what they're planning to do once Adam and the exorcists will come. Their attention was diverted as knocks were heard on the doors of the hotel.
“Oooh new guests?” Angel Dust says with a smirk, lying on his stomach as he lies on the couch, taking up the entire space.
Alastor was just grinning as he sat on the cushioned chair, Niffty sitting on his shoulders and playing with his hair.
Vaggie was sitting at the bar area with Husk still bartending. Sir Pentious was sitting with them too. The egg boys are just walking around.
Charlie's eyes sparkled, walking to the front door. Opening it to see her dad and... [Y/n]...?!
“Charlieee!” Lucifer greeted as he immediately hugged the girl, [y/n] laughing softly behind them.
Angel Dust looked at Husk, wondering if he saw the same thing as him.
The two fallen angels looked like they were matching outfits. Angel Dust gave them a smirk, in which the two fallen angels were confused why.
“Dad?! I didn't know you were going to visit? And Miss [y/n] I am glad to see you again.” Charlie smiled and approached the woman in which the older woman hugged the girl.
“[y/n] here wanted to visit and I thought why not? Also, we brought cookies! We baked them!” Lucifer says proudly, a grin on his face. [Y/n] laughs softly as she hands the two boxes to Charlie, in which the girl excitedly and happily accepts. “Really? Thank you so much!” Charlie says excitedly.
Charlie gave the two fallen angels a look before giving her dad a knowing smirk, Lucifer was confused.
The two fallen angels looked at each other and shrugged, not knowing what that was about. The two eventually went inside the hotel, closing the doors behind them.
[Y/n] was immediately pulled into the group, the hotel crew missing her. Lucifer smiles as he sits on the bar stool, admiring how she interacted with the others. No one is stupid, they can literally see the lovestruck look the King of Hell is giving the female fallen angel, they can literally see his dilated pupils. Charlie sat beside him, wiggling her eyebrows at him.
“What?” Lucifer deadpans, confused why his daughter is looking at him like that. Tearing his gaze away from his best friend.
Charlie nudges him, “You liked her don't you?” she teases him, Lucifer could feel his cheeks heat up once more.
“Me?! I think it's a little too early?” he says hesitantly and Charlie just gave him a raised eyebrow, clearly not believing him.
Husk scoffs behind the counter as he continues to wipe the glass, “Yeah, no one is believing that. We can literally see you giving her heart eyes and you two even looked like you guys are matching clothes.” Husk says nonchalantly and Lucifer had to double check his outfit and [y/n]'s.
They indeed looked like they were matching outfits.
Husk and Charlie could see the circles of Lucifer's cheeks redden even more. The king of hell was leaning his head against the counter, burying his face on his arm as he used it as a pillow, “It was a coincidence.” he explained and Husk just scoffs and chuckles.
“I think it's too early...” Lucifer murmurs, he doesn't want to admit it but he's scared of what Charlie will think. Will she think that he's replacing her mother?
Charlie's eyes soften, she places a hand on his shoulder for comfort. “You love her don't you? Long before I even existed and you still do and I think you shouldn't deny it dad. It's not healthy.” she murmurs softly and Lucifer sighs.
Charlie smiled softly at him, “If you're afraid of my opinion about this, I think you should go for it dad... I want you to be happy and Miss [y/n] seems to be a nice woman...” she says softly as she looks at the woman smiling with Sir Pentious and the egg boys as they ate the cookies that she and her dad brought. Charlie doesn't mind calling [y/n] her step mom. She already sees her like a mother figure already.
Lucifer's eyes softened, sparkling.
“You better shoot your shot, I think you're not the only one interested in her.” Husk says emotionlessly, gesturing behind Lucifer. The king of hell turned around and he could feel his eye twitch as Alastor gave him a smirk as the radio demon twirled the woman while she laughed.
Husk knows Alastor isn't interested, sure, the radio demon sees the woman more as a companion. He just needed to help this pathetic man they call a king to make a move.
Lucifer's sharp nails slightly graze the wooden counter in annoyance.
Charlie nudges him again, breaking his focus from the scene.
“Besides, I won't mind calling her mom. I won't replace my birth mother of course but Miss [y/n] is like a mom to me too. Allow yourself to be happy, dad.” Charlie says softly, smiling at her father.
Lucifer could feel himself get flustered at the idea. Him, Charlie, and [y/n] as a family. It doesn't sound so bad. It sounds amazing actually.
“Soon... I want to make sure that I am ready...” Lucifer says softly, his eyes looking at the woman who was happily conversing with a certain arachnid, chuckling softly as he notices her getting flustered. It might be because of what the arachnid has said to her.
Charlie smiled and nodded, “Take your time dad. You have all the time in the world.” she says softly and he nodded in agreement, “Indeed...”
TAGLIST I: CLOSED
@selvyyr @leo4242564 @blushhpeachh @lunanight1021 @dvc4 @nehy019 @lu-ferri12 @lilteamushroom @froggybich @eddiemunson4ever @who-let-me-write-this @gurutan27 @sleepdeprived-barelyalive @hcneyiced @valerie-36 @jovialcat123 @b0nn1e @raeinn @wally-darling-hyperfixation @faefanatic @trashbin-nie @n1chxyaaenthusiast @cherry-4200 @luleck @adaizel @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx @thedarkkitten @brithedemonspawn @kottenox @totallymitya @many-fandoms-lover @hxzbinwrites @snoozewritezz @juskonutoh @mayhimouto513 @hcneyiced @koirb @viylikescats @ren-ren23 @kouyoumarryme @dou-dou @thatsquitepoggers
#lxkeee answers#hazbin hotel#lxkeee updates#lucifer hazbin hotel#lucifer morningstar x reader#lxkeee hazbin hotel masterlist#lucifer#lucifer magne#lucifer morningstar#hazbin hotel x reader
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Over-Time Ch2
(CEO!Miguel x Shy/Clumsy!Reader)
Ch1
Warning: MINORS DNI, eventual smut, slow-burn, mentions of sex, bullying, cussing, fluff
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A soothing hot tea was just the thing to calm the nerves. All of your worries melted away with each sip. The amount of drink options that were offered for interviews was quite impressive. That's a rich company for sure.
Plus, the music was very relaxing. You had started to wonder about the perks of working here that the website didn't tell you. All you had to do was keep calm and do well during this interview. You had pracited for hours in the mirror.
You could handle a one on one interview!
Reviewing common interview questions, you noticed more people arrive on the floor. Each took a seat away from you, looking around in awe. In total, including you, there were six people. Not a lot for how big his company was.
"Alright. Everyone is here, please follow me to the interview room." A woman with incredible fashion said.
Your eyes widen in shock as everyone got up and followed her. You were last, feeling your nerves kick in. Arriving at the large room, you felt your fears sink in.
This was a group interview.
You were not getting this job. You couldn't do group interviews. It was hard to speak up and you often got over shadowed by other people. Your stomach was twisting as the urge to puke was starting to form. This was horrible.
But you had to be brave!
"Alright. I'm Lyla, normally I won't be conducting the interview, but there was a last minute emergency so you are stuck with me. Shame for the lot of you honestly." Lyla spoke.
You sat near the back since the others took the closer seats. Trying to control your breathing, you focused on the painting behind Lyla. It was a beautiful water color portrait of a foggy forest after a rainstorm. It was quite pleasant.
"I've read your files. I want your names and why you think you deserve to work here." Lyla said harshly.
You were practicing what you were going to say as everyone went their turn. You were going to be the fourth person speaking. All you had to do was say your name and why you would fit in at Alchemax. That was it. Easy.
"Next."
"H-Hello. I-I'm-"
"My name is Phillip. I believe-"
You tuned the man out, shocked that he cut you. Rolling your lips inward, you tried your best not to cry as you just repeated what you were going to say in your head. It was always like this. You needed to be louder. You needed to stop being shy.
----------
Miguel rested his head against the palm of his hand as he watched Lyla run the group interview. His focus turned to you since it was your turn to speak. It was cute how he noticed you count the people ahead of you and started muttering to yourself.
"H-Hello. I-I'm-"
"My name is Phillip. I believe-"
Miguel scoffed in disgust towards the man. Yes, your voice was low, but you were still speaking. Miguel hated it when people were interrupted. No matter, Miguel had to just stay quiet and let Lyla run this interview.
It was rough. You were being spoken over and interrupted at any given chance. Miguel wanted to see what you were capable of. You sounded so sure of yourself in the elevator. Hell, even shy people need to be given a fair chance.
"Lyla, leave the room for a moment. I want to see something."
-------
Lyla pressed against her earbud, listening to someone from what it seems. You were sunk in your seat, glancing at her.
"Understood." She sighed and released her earbud, "I shall return in a moment. There is a minor set back I must resolve."
With that, Lyla left the room. You gulped since everyone now had their attention towards you. Like wolves glaring down at their prey. You could feel your heart beat in your throat.
"Best if you leave now."
"No, no. She's making us look good."
"She's useless. How she got this far is beyond me."
"A pest if you ask me."
Unable to hold back your tears, you were quick to grab your paperwork. One of the other interviewers quickly forced you back into your seat.
"If you leave, it will look like we bullied you. Just shut up and stay seated. Okay?"
You were hesitant to answer.
"Are you fucking stupid? Do you understand?"
Nodding violently, you quickly wiped your tears. Their grip was harsh against your shoulder. All you wanted to do was leave. Leave and cry. This was horrible. What made you think you had a chance at such a fancy company?
"(Y/N), follow me." Lyla said as she entered the room for a moment.
You were quick to grab your things and leave. Lyla had you follow her to a separate room on the floor. Upon entering, you gasped softly as Miguel sat at a small desk, welcoming you in.
--------
Miguel resisted a chuckle as he watched your face light up to a familiar friendly face. He motioned you to sit and offered some water to calm you down. Once you had relaxed a bit, Miguel took a seat back at the desk.
"I should have warned you that it was a group interview." Miguel started. You sipped the water,
"N-No, it's fine. Um...I probably...should have prepared better," You muttered.
Miguel just smiled towards you. You glanced up, making eye contact and gasped. Your cheeks were turning red as you accidently dropped the water.
"Ah! I'm sorry! I'm sorry!"
"It's okay," Miguel grabbed your hand, helping you back into the seat. He grabbed the bottle of water and placed it on the desk, "I'm sure you're still shaken up. You can relax here."
"Thank you....T-To be honest, I...I am a little clumsy too...Especially when my...nerves kick in."
"And that's alright. I want Alchemax to be a comfortable place for my-uh, our employees." Miguel cleared his throat.
Who knows how nervous you would get if you found out that he was the CEO. Your face might turn into a tomato at that rate. Miguel wanted to keep you in the dark just a little bit longer. It was refreshing to speak with someone who didn't know his identity.
"Here. I want you to organize this list of meetings for me during a one week schedule."
Miguel handed you two pieces of paper. He sat at the desk, watching you work as you read everything carefully. This was the first schedule that Lyla ever had to work with and it stressed her out trying to fit everything together.
"Done."
Miguel raised his head in surprise as you finished in a matter of minutes. Looking over the schedule you had made, Miguel was surprised. You had managed to work everything out and even give Miguel more time than Lyla did.
"Impressive." Miguel whispered, "Mind if I give you a few more tests?"
"I don't," You whispered calmly.
The next half hour consisted of you working on Miguel's meeting schedules with shareholders, business partners, etc. He role played some phone calls with you and everything else that Lyla would normally do for him.
Despite your shy personality and clumsy nature, you were perfect for the job.
"I must say (Y/N), I'm impressed." Miguel said with a smile as he grabbed your hand, "Be sure to expect a call from us soon. Allow me to walk you to the door."
Miguel watched as your cheeks started to fluster. You stayed quiet while smiling. Honestly, having you work under him would be a treat. It was going to be nice having someone so cute and shy working right under him.
"Um, thank you, Miguel....For giving me a chance," You whispered, stopping in front of the elevator. Miguel just chuckled lowly,
"No, thank you, (Y/N)."
Waving goodbye towards you, Miguel waited for the elevator to close before frowning. He stomped his way over to the interview room where Lyla and the five fools were. Slamming the door open, Miguel gave them all a glare.
"All of you, out. I don't want a single pathetic lot of you ever stepping near this building again."
"Wow, harsh much." Lyla teased as the interviewees nearly begged for a chance.
"I have who I want as your replacement."
"Oh? Don't sound too excited now," Lyla chuckled. Once everyone left, she glanced at Miguel, "That good?"
"Don't be jealous if I say she is better than you."
"Ohhh, ouch. That hurt," Lyla laughed and nudged Miguel's shoulder, "I can't wait to train her."
--------
You were biting your lower lip as you smiled from ear to ear. You weren't sure how, but Miguel was your saving grace. You couldn't wait to get a call from Alchemax now. Recalling the warmth of his hand against yours, you nearly squealed.
"Hopefully I get to work with him~"
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@timidquindim @decentsoupperson @ivkygirly @@reader-1290 @daddyfroglegs @eepybunny0805 @ddreabea @iamperson12280 @migueloharasoulmate @tojishugetiddies @koko-1025 @hyeinwluv85s @daisy-artfield @migueloharastruelove @a-lil-whore @hcqwxrtss123 @the-pan-liquid @tojisfav @pochapo @bubblegumfanfictions @brighterthanlonelythoughts @ghstypaint @mangoslushcrush @synamonthy @scaleniusrm @moonspectorx @dorck26 @a060403 @lunablackcosplay @soraya-daydreams @lovefanfic1 @mymrsweirdnessshipperstuff-blog @pretty-pink-princesss @corpsebridenightamare @razertail18 @gachagator @droolingmuttt @miguelsfavwife @ryzguy06 @raideaters-blog @manishkaworld @keidilla
#miguel o'hara#miguel spiderverse#miguel o’hara x reader#miguel spiderman#atsv miguel#miguel o'hara smut#spiderman 2099#miguel o'hara x reader#miguel x you#across the spiderverse#miguel x y/n#miguel x reader#miguel ohara
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Hear Me
Neteyam x Metkayina!F!Deaf!Reader
Summary: Neteyam thought you were the most beauitful thing in the world, yet you never seemed to respond to him.
Warning: Reader is Deaf!, Fluff, Angst (went you squint)
*not my best work, I've just had this in my head for the last few days and needed to get some form of it out*
When you had been born, the first child of Tonowari and Ronal, a great celebration had been held. They sang songs of what you would accomplish in the future, praised your name to Eywa for a blessing of a child. It didn't take long for your parents to notice you were, different.
You never reacted when someone approached or called your name. You never flinched from loud noises, only when something jumped out or you turned to suddenly see something you didn't know.
Your speech was different too, only able to make simple noises than actually talk. Able to communicate through the Clans Sign Language, but never completely with words.
Ronal prayed to Eywa for an answer, visiting the Spirit Tree to seek help. Only for a vision of silence to flash behind her eyes when she had made the connection to the tree.
You were deaf. Eywa blessed you with many things, beauty, grace, compassion and kindness.
But not the ability to hear.
Never able to hear the beautiful songs of the Tulkun, never to sing in tune with your brothers and sisters, yet you were an amazing dancer.
It took many months and years of everyday practice and routine for you and your clan to adjust to you. What you lacked in hearing, you made up in sight and touch.
You could feel the slightest change in area, quick to take others down with a elegance to it that had many young Na'vi boys swooning. You could feel the vibrations in the sand, the netting, the water. Able to change course and react before something happens.
When the day of the Sully's arrival had happened, you had been out on the Ilus with your sister, Tsireya. You lounged in the water, eyes closed as you felt the waves caress your body before shadows flashed your eyelids, eyes opening to see five Ikran's flying overhead to the main village.
Reya motioned for your attention, your eyes meeting her figure as she signed to you, 'We must hurry, they've signaled an arrival'
You nodded, connecting with your Ilu and both of you racing to the beach front. Exiting the water, you noticed six dark blue Na'vi standing there.
Reya seemed to have caught the attention of the second oldest son, his eyes quickly averting from her figure. You smiled, nudging her slightly as you made your way through the crowd that had gathered.
Many men and boys quickly moved aside for you, a smile in return you graced them.
Your brother Ao'nung had been pointing at them with a cocky smirk on his face, his friend Rotxo laughing along. Although, you could only tell he was laughing from the way his shoulders and diaphragm moved.
Feeling that it was something bad being said, you went between the both of them, slapping the sides of their arms as a warning. Reya had also slapped them, both boys quickly stopping their verbal assault.
You made eye contact with the oldest boy, a Na'vi around your age. His eyes were so bright, you could see the flecks of gold against the yellow. He made a gesture of hello, you smiling and slightly nodding your head in acknowledgement.
Your Father's sudden appearance beside you made you slightly jump, too caught up in the boy to notice the sand shifting beside you.
Meeting his face, his eyes read for you to back up so you did, your Mother soon making her way to the crowd aswell.
You could only watch as the exchange happened, the father of the other group seeming to plead with your own father. Ronal poked and prodded at the family, pulling the second sons hands into the air to show his five fingers.
Looking to Reya for help, she simply signed, 'They seek to stay, wanting refuge with us' causing you to become confused, your eyes narrowing toward the group. What could be happening that forest Na'vi come here of all places?
Seeing your father and mother start to dismiss them, you reached out for your fathers arm, his eyes snapping to you, your Mother also looking intently as you signed one thing.
'Help' and gestured to the family.
Your parents made eye contact, seeming to understand. They turned back to the other family, nodding and exchanging words before addressing the rest of the clan.
Your Father gestured to your siblings, his hand coming onto your shoulders as you assumed he introduced you. You smiled, slightly bowing your head in greeting.
Your brother of course didn't like whatever was being said, stepping forward to speak out but your father quickly shut him down.
'Show them the way' he told you, Reya grabbing your hand and leading the family away.
You glided next to your sister it seemed, your eyes casting out to the open blue water, the air gently touching your cheeks as the wind blew. Neteyam wondered about you.
You haven't said anything, yet you and your family communicated using, hands? It confused him, water Na'vi. Tsireya had explained to them how and when things would happen, she was the only one talking to them out of the pair of siblings.
Maybe you were just being nice? Nice hello gesture and that's it? You wouldn't talk to them, would look at them. We're you freaked out of their "Demon Blood"? Was being a different type of Na'vi really that off putting?
"Here we are, I hope its to your liking," Tsireya smiled, stopping at the new home of the Sullys, you accidently bumping into her as you hadn't been watching where you were going. You laughed silently, a hand on her back as an apology.
"Lessons begin this afternoon! I hope you all settle quickly," Tsireya bid goodbye, taking your hand and motioning for you to follow. You waved goodbye to the family and followed your younger sister, both of you a vision of beauty in the sunlight.
~.~
You had already been down in the water when you felt the splashes nearby, turning to see your siblings and Rotxo dive in, swimming over to you. You greeted them, looking past to see the Forest Na'vi trying to follow but kept going up to the surface.
The four of you were confused so you followed them up, motioning to them confused. They began to talk, but you waved your hands, unable to hear them.
Tsireya came up, asking for you aloud what was wrong and why they weren't just breathing.
The youngest sibling, a little girl, struggled to keep up so you took it upon yourself to help steady her in the water, the oldest boy watching you closely with Tuk.
Tuk began to thank you, your eyes meeting Rotxo who was closer, 'Tuk says thank you,' you smiled at the girl as Rotxo told her she was welcome. Tuk and Neteyam looked at eachother, both confused on why you wouldn't answer yourself.
Neteyam and Lo'ak had told them they didn't understand anything they were doing. "What is this...finger, hand motion thing you guys do? We have no clue, yet you always speak it, especially with her," Gesturing to you who was spinning Tuk in a circle in the water, the youngest one laughing in joy. You didn't acknowledge them, even though you were the center of the conversation now.
"Don't bring her into this," Ao'nung growled, teething baring. "I will teach you, as will (Y/n), believe me, you'll learn it quick with her," Tsireya assured, splashing water at you to gain attention.
You stopped, Tuk giggling as you turned to face them. Eyes dashing at each of the siblings, they all just stared making you nervous. Did you miss something important? Were you supposed to say something?
Ao'nung waved you off with a soft smile, making you return it. Your Father appeared on the shoreline, waving his hand to signal for you.
Letting out a yell in acknowledgement, you handed Tuk off to Neteyam. His eyes stayed trained on you as you swam off, your body cutting through the water like a sharp knife, but yet it didn't disturb the water. The water seemed to bend around your body.
"Beautiful, isn't she?" Tsireya asked, smiling at Neteyam, "yeah," he trailed off before realizing what he just said outloud. "I mean, for a water Na'vi," he added quickly, Kiri rolling her eyes at her stupid brother.
'Morons, all of them,' she thought.
"So why doesn't she respond?" Lo'ak asked, his eyebrows contorting in confusion.
Ao'nung and Tsireya shared a look, Rotxo simply shaking his head.
"That is not our information to share, but please be patient with her," Tsireya pleaded, her big eyes making Lo'ak melt, "she is very bright and smart, but please, just be patient as you learn more about her,"
The Sully siblings looked at eachother before confirming with a nod to the water Na'vi.
~.~
Neteyam stared at you from a distance, you currently teaching some of the younger children how to dance. The way your hands moved, elegantly and flowing, like water. A smile on your face, eyes focusing on a child who grabbed your attention, their hands moving. You did it back, again, no verbal reply.
"Is there a reason you're staring at the Olo'eyktan's daughter?" His father gained Neteyam's attention back, his eyes wide. "I wasn't staring at her," Neteyam replied, looking back down at the fish they were currently gutting and cleaning for dinner.
"I mean I can see why, your age, beautiful, good with kids, anything else you wanna add?" Jake joked, Neteyam feeling his face get warm. "He hasn't said a word to her," Kiri chirped, Neteyam glaring with sharp eyes, his teeth bared in warning.
"Oh? Now you're telling me my oldest son can't talk to a girl?" Jake pressured, Neytiri sending him a look, a look to tread lightly.
"Its not that, it's that she never responds," Neteyam clarified, but he knew it really was because he was worried to talk to her.
"That's cause she's-" Neytiri slapped a hand over her mates mouth, her eyes basically shutting him up.
"She's to tell them, not you," Neytiri warned, Jake nodding, Neytiri releasing him.
~.~
At the clans dinner, many banged drums and danced to the beat. Chanting and singing drawled out into the night sky, footsteps marking in the sand by a large bonfire.
At the center of it was you, your head bobbing as you felt the vibrations through the sand, your feet and your spirit. Tsireya beside you as you guided her through the movements, her eyes suddenly catching the oldest son, turning you toward him and motioning for you to grab him.
You did just that, teething gleaming from a smile as you grabbed his hand, gesturing for him to come dance. "No thanks," he tried, but you just pulled him up and dragged him out to the sand.
"No, (Y/n), I don't dance!" He tried to explain but you just carried on, smiling and waving at him to join. He was soon grabbed by other Na'vi who had started a dance circle, hands and arms linked as they jumped and chanted. You laughed, a weird chortle but Neteyam could only grin back.
When the ceremonies had started to die down, you grabbed his hand and gestured him to follow, his eyes trying to find his family to see if they were watching him slip away.
"So where are we going?" He questioned, of course you didn't hear, you just kept running through the bushes, leading him somewhere special.
"Is there a reason you never respond?" He tried again, still nothing.
Finally having enough of a one way conversation, he grabbed your hand, stopping the movement going forward. You turned, face showing confusion.
"Where are we going?" He annunciated slowly, you waving your hands, pointing to your ears.
"What? If you're listening then reply," he urged, frustration growing. You hummed, trying again.
'I can't hear you,' you signed, but he only groaned, eyes rolling. "What are you saying," he growled, angry at himself and you. This was all so annoying.
You took his hands, placing them on your ears and pushing them down. "What you don't wanna listen? Don't wanna hear?" He raided an eyebrow, you looking at him with a quirked eyebrow, hinting at something.
He just shrugged, so you placed your hands on his ears, smashing them down. "Ow! Now I can't hear-" it dawned on him, mouth dropping open as his eyes stared into yours.
All this time you hadn't meant to ignore or be rude. You were oblivious or an airhead. You just couldn't hear. He grabbed your hands softly, bringing them off his head and holding them close to his chest as you both stared at each other.
'Understand?' You signed, Neteyam still struggling to figure out all the signs your clan had but nodded slowly, almost like he knew what you did say.
"You can't hear? Nothing?" You had learned to read lips a little over the years so you briefly nodded, Neteyam looking at you in a different light.
He'd always thought you were beautiful to begin with. Your smile alone could distract him, make him weak in the knees. The way you cared for your clan and his family even, made him feel warm inside. Of course, not many words were expressed between you two, but he couldn't help an attraction, a pull almost, towards you.
You could say the same. His strength that was displayed everyday was very invigorating, his protectiveness over his family made you feel safe as well. The way he seemed to go with the flow even if he didn't want to reminded you of water. The softness of his hands squeezing yours brought you out of your day dream.
He smiled at you, your eyes bright with warmth as he allowed you to continue the way you had been trying to go moments before.
Coming to a open pool of water, hundreds of jelly like fish swam. All glowing bright, iridescent colors.
Neteyam looked around in awe, turning to you in amazement as you let out a chortle, him finding it the most beautiful sound ever.
He watched the way your skin glowed in the light of the fish, your eyes reflecting both the light and the night sky. 'Beautiful' he signed, one thing he did remember from Tsireyas instruction earlier.
You felt your face grow warm, suddenly bashful under his gaze as you looked downward. Many boys had told you you were pretty, but hearing it from Neteyam, a boy from another clan. Someone who had just stayed learning your ways was different. It made you feel nervous, yet excited.
He reached his hand out, cupping your chin to make your eyes met again. "Don't hide from me," he grinned, you not hearing his words but felt the love behind them from his hand on your face that you leaned into as it moves up to your cheek, cradling you softly.
"I know you can't hear me," he let go of your face, his turning inward as he tried to remember everything Tsireya taught him earlier. "I see you, (Y/n)" he gestured, you suddenly beaming as you titled your head giddy like.
"I see you, Neteyam," you signed back, his arm coming around you to pull you in close. Maybe you couldn't hear his words, but you sure did feel them.
#avatar: the way of water#avatar the way of water#avatar#atwow imagines#atwow fanfiction#neteyam#neteyam x y/n#neteyam x omaticaya!reader#neteyam x metkayina!reader#neteyam x reader#neteyamxdeafreader#deaf reader#neteyam x oc
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Being Their Friend
TW: Breakdowns/crises (mentioned), knives, swearing, centipedes, bullying, general mental health stuff, Zooble's limbs being (painlessly) moved/stored/body horror
Type: Headcanons
A/N: Hi. These are just for fun; don't get up in arms if they aren't perfect (they can't be anyway, considering how far into the show we are). Requests aren't open (EDIT: they are open now). Spoilers obviously. Includes only the main six because I honestly don't know enough about Caine yet.
Pomni
Being her friend entails a multitude of existential crises. Everyone's trying to find their own way to cope, but expect to be helping her through many a panic attack. She's a hot mess most of the time, and doesn't really know what to do.
As seen in the trailer, she still gets scared of getting hurt, much unlike people like Ragatha who know they can't be harmed by knives or whatever else Caine throws at them. It'd be your job to help calm her down during these situations and help her adjust to not being hurt.
Other than that, I imagine once Pomni gets (semi) used to living in the digital circus you'd spend a lot of time looking for the exit. She definitely wants to get out of there before she becomes abstracted--something she knows is possible with her mental state. She also just wants to get her and everyone else out of there. Even that jackass Jax.
Pomni would take a lot of comfort in the things that connect her to the real world like food. If she offers you some food, you know you're really friends with her. If she had access to drawing/painting equipment or whatnot, I reckon she'd try to draw herself in her real form (if she could remember). She's like to see what you look like, and would compliment you on your appearance.
Ragatha
Ragatha's been in the digital circus for a while, and is much more comfortable with it than some of her other friends (or so she likes to pretend). She's fine with getting hit with knives as seen in her introduction short and likely wouldn't be scared of dying by anything else. As she said, her only fear is centipedes.
Still, it'll be your job to get them out of her room for her. Everyone knows what an arsehole Jax can be, and she sure as hell isn't risking walking into her room to find tens of thousands of them. If you don't do it, she's staying in your room for an indefinite amount of time.
Actually, I think Ragatha would like to have sleepovers anyway. It'd keep her impending thoughts at bay. Even if she doesn't require sleep, it's fun and reminds her of home. Like I said in Pomni's section, I think she'd enjoy drawing or painting. Or any creative visual art really, but especially drawing and painting for the purpose of making pictures of what you look like outside of the digital world.
Though be warned, the sight of her may send her off on a spiral of homesickness. Since Ragatha serves as a kind of rock of stability (as best as her overly optimistic self can), seeing her collapse may cause the others to collapse, too. Except maybe Jax, but it'll be up to you to try and get everyone back together before abstraction happens.
Jax
First of all, I don't know if this is possible. Not only are we so little into the show to really know, but Gooseworx also said he's going to have some really bad scenes. So, I suppose you won the lottery in doing this...Maybe. It really depends on how you look at it.
Because first of all, he's still a massive dick. He's just rude to everyone, so expect nothing different. He'll still be a jerk to you, "prank" you, or really, just straight up bully you. Honestly, half the time you can't even tell this guy is supposed to like you. He doesn't even really say sorry unless it's sarcastic.
The only way you can tell he likes you as a friend is when he gets all up in arms about you being annoyed at him. At first, at least, he's confused as to why you can't just let it go. Over time, though, he gets more in tune with his emotions and starts to mellow out a little.
However, it does come with the perk of having someone who will beat the ever-loving life out of whoever hurt you. Okay, well, not that far--he's got to keep his reputation as someone who doesn't care about other people, so he'll at most just be a bit of a bigger pain in their side. But it's still there.
Things you'd do together include terrorising the other members (or, he tries to get you in on it, anyway), sneaking into people's rooms to snoop around, and all-in-all just being a bit of a pain. But you also do other things; he seems like he's not one for visual arts or theatre, but maybe he could play an instrument and may--very heavy on the "may"--teach you some stuff. Otherwise, I don't think he's an arts guy. He'd enjoy video games, though, if they had those! And going to the digital carnival for thrills along with just exploring the grounds.
Kinger
Kinger would be an interesting friend. I have two routes for this guy based on a theory I saw. Route one follows him actually being on the brink of insanity/abstraction. In this route, you have to make sure he's alright. Just be gentle with him and check up on him every now and then. But don't be in his face all the time. Everyone needs a bit of personal space.
You can still hang out with Kinger, obviously. You can still talk about things you'd normally talk about, whatever that may be. Just don't bring up the abstracted queen (who I shall be calling Queener). It'll bring up some...Bad memories.
Anyways, my second route is this: based on a theory, Kinger is actually one of the more stable ones in the group, and is just pretending to be on the brink of losing it. Basically, if I remember right, he's pretending in order to get out of the activities/shenanigans of the group.
But no matter what his reason for doing it is, he's smart as hell. Having tricked everyone, it'd take a keen eye to figure it out. If you do, he'd be impressed. Once he trusts you enough, the two of you will discuss the other circus members and how to outsmart them secretly. You'll also just hang out, gossip...He feels like a guy who'd be into drama, with his whole being the actual king thing. You two would do some impromptu skits and whatnot to pass the time.
Gangle
Oh, Gangle. What would you do with Gangle? Well, you'd certainly have to be gentle with her. She's a very fragile soul--and also fragile physically--and needs some care. Help her repair her mask, or better yet, stop Jax from breaking it in the first place. In fact, just stop him from doing any mean stuff to her in the first place.
Other than that, Gangle is someone who'd actually enjoy drawing as a hobby and not just a memories thing. She draws anime, and would make you and her anime personas with cool abilities and features like wings and shit. I imagine her art style is very early-mid 2000s anime, with the really big eyes and whatnot.
Anyways, I reckon she'd also write. Mostly fanfiction when she wasn't stuck in the digital world, but since there's no fandoms to write about now she'd start branching out into her own original stories. But don't get me wrong; if anyone was going to write about their friends and fellow members it'd be her. She just hides it somewhere other than her room. Gangle would like to write stories about your sonas going on adventures and saving the world.
Eventually, these stories probably get found by Jax or someone else (but probably Jax). He'd laugh his arse off at them and would run to tell everyone about it. Unless you can absolutely beat the shit out of him, prepare to do some explaining and also comforting for her.
Zooble
Zooble does not give much of a shit about the others. They wouldn't let them die (at least I think so), but they're in no way buddy-buddy with them. In order to be friends with them, you'd have to meet their strict criteria. So, good job on that!
Being friends with them would either involve lots of gossip because they want to talk shit about people and complain, or it'd have no gossip because they honestly couldn't care less about the others. I can't tell. But if you do gossip, I imagine they know a lot about the other members. You'd be filled in on everything they know, too. They've been dying for someone to tell this too.
Zooble's also very particular about their looks, as seen in their introductory short. They have many stored limbs and whatnot to swap around for their mood. Don't mess with their body by switching around their antennae-like things or ripping off their body parts like Jax. They will retaliate.
Going off of this, though, I imagine they're pretty strong. I mean, they choked Jax like that. So, if anyone (him) comes around to piss you off, you best bet they'll be on their way to beat his arse. Though, it probably ends in a tug-of-war with one of their arms.
#amy's writing#not requested#the amazing digital circus#tadc#tadc x reader#x reader#tadc pomni#tadc ragatha#tadc jax#tadc kinger#tadc gangle#tadc zooble#tadc headcanon#the amazing digital circus spoilers#tadc spoilers#breakdown tw#crisis tw#knife tw#swearing tw#centipede tw#bullying tw#body horror tw
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One More Hour
Idol San x (f)Reader
Summary: If Choi San was sure about one thing, it was the love that occupied his heart, his love for her. She had become everything he needed, everything he believed in and everything he worshipped, not a thought that went by that wasn't followed by a thought about her. The only problem was, his undying love for her, was a secret known only to her, not the people he had been living with since his teens.
Genre: Fluff (a tinge of angst) (simp San, technically they're both hopelessly, dramatically inlove- i do not regret this)
Warnings: None
A/N: Choi San's got me whipped, I just can't. Please remember to show some love by 💗 and reblogs
With her cheek squished against his cotton-clad chest, she felt his warmth slowly lull her to a state of blissful sleep, their heartbeat synchronized as he hummed a familiar, yet random tune, perhaps it wasn't the tune that was familiar but his melodic voice that could compete with angels.
She had long forgotten the plot of the movie, too engrossed by his presence, arms squeezing his waist, pressing herself closer into his side, his hand reaching to rest on top of her head, fingers caressing through her hair. It had been long since the two had spent time together like this, just enjoying each other's presence, basking in each other's warmth. So, when given the opportunity to take a day off, when everyone else had other things to do, he chose to stay at home alone, unknown to the rest of the members that instead of sleeping in, he had decided to spend the evening with his significant angel. Calling her over with a well-formulated plan, since everyone was leaving and coming in late, he had told her to drop by earlier and he'd drop her off before they arrived back home, meaning the two could spend some time together- both knowing even an eternity spent together wasn't enough.
It's not that he didn't want to tell them or that they wanted to keep it a secret, it's just that company at the dorm was… something noone preferred, possibly due to this being the only place of privacy they had. More importantly, he didn't want to introduce her as just her girlfriend, his brain had been buzzing with a certain idea he wasn't sure if she was comfortable with, which is why he had been waiting for the perfect opportunity.
"Sannie…" her hushed voice rang in his ears, earning a hum in return she paused, eyes darting to the wall clock as a sigh escaped her lips, finally causing him to look away from the screen to scan her face, eyes tracing the subtle frown of her brows and pouted lips- "What's wrong-hey" he called out, trying to hold her still as she slipped away, sitting up straight, "Where are you going?" his own pout making its way to his face, mirroring the sad look in her eyes.
"It's six, Sannie, I need to get going before it gets too late," she mumbled, trying to make her way over his sprawled-out legs to the other side of the bed, only for him to gently push her down, ignoring her high pitched, over-dramatic squeak, climbing over her form as her head hit the soft mattress pinning her down, glaring up at him, his grip on her wrists tightened, pushing them down next to head. "Don't go." his whine not even remotely representing the death grip he had on her, his whole body engaging her, face pressed into the skin of her neck, lips pressing against her pulse, stretching into a smirk at the feeling of her breath hitching.
"One more hour," mumbling against her skin he traced his lips up the column of her neck to her jaw, trailing soft kisses to her ear, "I'll drop you home myself, just…one more hour."
"But Sannie- uff" her whine was cut off as the air was pushed out of her lungs, thanks to him putting his entire body weight on top of hers, rubbing his nose against her cheek, "You have been detained, due to the horrendous crime of breaking your boyfriend's heart."
"I'm about to die." wheezing out she tried to pull her hands out of his death grip or at least shove him off, only to fail and whine in defeat. His chest vibrated as a chuckle broke past his lips, proud at how all that time at the gym had paid off, before pulling himself off her, only to hover over her, his hands letting go of her wrists, to cup her face, thumbs brushing over her warm cheeks.
"Just one more hour," he whispered before placing a chaste kiss on the tip of her nose, smiling at how she scrunched her nose in response.
"Tempt me to stay."
Words that had no malice or implications, in truth she just meant food or a tasty treat, nothing else of any sort but a fact that slipped her mind. A thought and a fact about how the big, shy, feline-eyed man of hers was a pervert. A sinister smirk replaced his easy smile, eyes gleaming at the way her smile had faltered upon the realisation of the innuendo that could have been behind those words- mind you she had not intended for there to be any.
.
"You perv." was all she could manage to huff out, chest heaving after the tedious, tiring yet exhilarating session, staring up at the false ceiling in post haze. His pillow felt cold under her head, her body shivering, more from the buzz of the aftermath than the cold. Laying on his side he watched her features, the way her gaze seemed to be unfocused, lips slightly parted, cheeks puffed out and pink, propping himself up on his elbow, he reached over to caress her cheek, neither concerned about the time anymore.
"Shower?"
"Yes please."
With a quick shower, the two had returned to their usual spot on the bed, after San had oh so kindly changed the sheets. He had forced her to wear his hoodie, only for her to insist he give her something to wear underneath too because it was cold and much to his displeasure he had to give his gym shorts, even after he had explained how he'd keep her legs warm even without anything, only to receive an "I've had enough of your nonsense for one day, Choi."
"What are you doing?" her words broke the comfortable silence, catching him in the act, and stopping him from pulling the covers over the two. She had allowed a cuddling session to commence but never approved of anything more, it was almost nine and she had to go- no, he said he'd drop her off- no, she'd rather go alone to avoid anything else.
"I thought we could rest…for a bit…you know…" clearing his throat he looked around, "After all that fun."
"And who decided to have that 'fun', huh?"
"You. It was actually you." with that he pulled her closer, holding her close as she struggled against him, "Don't worry, I set the alarm, just one more hour." she paused looking up at him, as he leaned down to press a sloppy kiss on her forehead, "Just one more hour, I promise."
.
"That was by far the worst film you could have ever forced us to watch." Mingi sighed, opening the door and entering the passageway, kicking his shoes off, followed by the others.
"It was an art film," Hongjoong argued, locking the door behind him, noting how Seonghwa had been neatly stacking everyone's shoes, in order only to pause at a pair of Converse, one that looked too small for any of them.
"It was SHIT, that's what it WAS." Wooyoung called out as he headed towards his room, "A bloody day off and we decide to let him plan it- SAN WAS SO SMART FOR NOT COMING." he stopped by the kitchen, before swinging open the fridge, "I mean I get it, it can be in French or whatever language, but why did the dude become a slug and- this bastard…"
"What's up?" Yunho asked, ripping open a packet of instant ramen, midnight snacks are important. Motioning to Yeosang who nodded, signaling for a serving as well.
Slamming the door closed Wooyoung turned around and glared at them, "The asshole ate my cakeslice!"
"You mean the toothpaste one?"
"Not funny Yunho.Not.F*cking.Funny!"With that he stomped out of the kitchen, probably to confront the criminal.
"What's his deal?" Mingi, who Wooyoung slammed his shoulder into, stumbled into the kitchen, earning an eye-roll from Yuho and a quiet "He's insane" from Yeosang.
"Not mine," Jongho mumbled, staring at the shoes, both his hyungs humming in agreement. Hongjoong looked at the two, "Did San have company over? He never said he would- is he seeing someone?"
"Not that I know of?" Seonghwa mumbled, glancing at Jongho who looked up at the door when they heard the familiar keypad beep. All three stared at the door as the person of conversation walked in, the cap of his hoodie covering most of his beanie-covered head, his bangs peeking out from beneath. Pulling his mask down he placed the plastic bag on the floor to kneel and untie his shoes, only to freeze at the sight of the many shoes before him, slowly glancing up to meet the gaze of the three most judgmental members.
"I can explain." he began only for Seonghwa to snort, "We didn't ask anything yet."
"Listen, she was meant to leave- I- we thought you'd come later-"
"Please tell me, she is not a professional." Hongjoong cut him off, rubbing his temples, they could not and did not, need a scandal of sorts.
"Of course not!" he snapped, before biting back his tongue at the way Hongjoong stared at him, correcting himself, "No… she’s not a fling or a hookup, I swear she's special and I-"
A shriek cut him off, alarming everyone else too, "Shit!" Bolting past them he ran to his room, noting the door was open and from inside he heard, none other than Wooyoung, "I AM SO SORRY! I SWEAR I DIDN'T SEE ANYTHING!"
"Yah! What did you do??" He growled, stomping in to find his girlfriend crouched on the ground next to the bed and Wooyoung with his eyes covered by the doorframe.
"I CAME HERE TO BEAT YOUR ASS AND THEN I SAW- "He paused at the whimper, "I MEAN I SAW YOU MISS- NOTHING ELSE I SWEAR!"
San crouched down beside her trying to pry her hands away from her face, only for her to glare at him with teary eyes and hiss, "You asshole." Trying to shove him away but he pulled her into his chest, eyeing his shorts that she was wearing on the ground, oh, so she was trying to change her clothes- honestly, he had only gone for 40 minutes. He had woken up as soon as the alarm rang but with his quick reflexes, he turned it off, wanting to spend a few more minutes with her, call him selfish, clingy or obsessed, none of them was wrong. After a few minutes, an idea popped up in his head, which is why he had decided to make a little trip to the bakery nearby, to bring her something.
"So, this is why you didn't come with us today?" Wooyoung finally looked at the two, her face still hidden in his chest, San's hoodie covering her form, her grip on his sweater tightening at the question. This was it, it was all over, she would either be asked to leave or forced to leave his life, they’d take away the only reason why she woke up in the morning, the only reason she still had hope in the future of humanity- call her over dramatic but that was just how much he meant to her. His scent, his body, his soul, if she could she would keep begging the stars to make sure they are bound together for an eternity, surrounded by him, to keep her grounded. Though that was a distant dream now, one that was going to be snatched out of her hands, the very hands that were pulling him even closer, in fear, if he were to be pulled away from her so be it, but she would savour the few seconds she had left with him, to imprint his being in her soul, a memory she could turn to on rainy days. She had hopped he had not picked up on this little anxious act, but how could San be San if he hadn’t, the moment the question had left Wooyoung’s lips, he had felt her grip on him tighten, his heart growing three sizes bigger at this very act of love and want. He had noticed how she was clinging onto him, no longer out of embarrassment or anger, but fear- fear of uncertainty, the fear he knew had accompanied him the first time he had asked her out, the first time he had kissed her, the first time he asked her to become an official couple- that very day he had promised himself to never put her in a position where this fear would become a reality, yet here they were, about to face this demon, together for the last time.
"Good choice. The film was shit."
Her head snapped up to meet Wooyoung’s casual gaze, who shrugged, “Seriously, certain art films should be banned, and I’d rather choose to stay at home with a lady than go out with Hongjoong any day.”
San smiled at his best friend, eyes watering at the note of acceptance and approval, delivered in the most Wooyoung manner, but words of affirmation that both needed to hear. Slowly standing up he pulled her up with him, letting her adjust the oversized hoodie, “Thanks man, I appreciate-”
His words were cut short as Wooyoung raised his hand, “Not you, bastard, I still want to stab you, not only for eating my slice of cake but also for not telling us beforehand you had a guest, now she’ll think I’m a creep.”
“I’m sure she already thinks so.” Yunho peered in from the doorway, smiling at the girl who shied away, moving behind her boyfriend, who glanced up at Yunho, “Also, Hongjoong called for a group meeting and you’re invited too!”
.
With her clothes changed, she sat a good distance from her boyfriend, hands in her lap, the same lap that seemed oh so interesting that she had been staring at it silently while San was trying to explain how they met.
“So, let me get this straight, you have been together for four years and you thought not telling us, your ‘brothers’, would be a good idea?” Hongjoong asked, staring- no- glaring at San.
“Four years, three months and 23 days actually…” he mumbled, before noticing the way she was staring at him, with the most, ‘what the f*ck, dude’ expression she could muster.
“Is he a good boyfriend?”
“Does he treat you well?”
“Are you into dumb dudes?”
“Have your parents met him?”
“Are they scared of his face?”
It was the last question that had her choking on her spit, trying to conceal the laughter, that increased in volume after his whines became more apparent, he knew what they were doing, they were embarrassing him on purpose- a form of payback.
“Yes, yes, I uh…guess so and yes they have met him and no they find him to be very good-looking.” Finally looking up at them she smiled gently, the nervous atmosphere around them, maybe this wasn’t so bad. At his point she was glad that they had accepted her, or rather had approved of their relationship, it was as if a giant boulder had been lifted off her shoulders, and she was free to love him with the certainty of them being together.
He was thrilled to see how everyone had absorbed this, he knew they’d give him hell once she left, but it wasn’t because they disliked her, no, it was due because of his cowardice. It was he who made all of them promise to be transparent, yet here he was keeping one of the most important people in his life a secret, putting strain on the relationship with his lover and his members. The issue was no longer whether they would accept her he had found a loophole for that, he wanted to introduce her to them, really did, but he wasn’t going to introduce her as ‘just his girlfriend’. San slowly moved closer, hands reaching out for hers only to pause and stare at her, “Wait, did you just say I’m dumb?”
“I uh-
“So, did you wait this long to tell us because you were going to propose first and then tell us?” Wooyoung cut her off as she choked on air, her boyfriend too busy trying to pat her back, his face dusted with pink, the tips of his ears burning at the embarrassment of being caught. Whispering to her, “You okay?”
She glanced up at him through her lashes, whispering back coyly, “Were you going to propose?”
“Yeah,” he gave her that million-dollar dimpled smile, eyes turning into crescents, only to turn into cat-like slits with the most serious and judgemental expression, one that sent shivers down her spine. His head whipped in Wooyoung’s direction, “How did you know- oh you bastard.”
Holding the crumb-covered ring in his hand, showing it to everyone, his eyes met his best friend's glare, the plate of a half-eaten cake slice on his lap, an easy smirk making its way to his face, “That’s what you get for eating my slice.”
#wooyoung#ateez scenario#ateez imagine#ateez fluff#choi san#hongjoong#break the wall#seonghwa#mingi#yunho#jongho#fluff#x reader#x you#ateez x reader#ateez fanfic#ateez imagines#atiny#yeosang#song mingi#ateez#drabble#platonic hongjoong#atz x reader#atz imagines#choi san x reader#san x reader#san x you#san x y/n#ateez fic
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Aommgg
Could I request the nrc staff + grim finding out you‘re a girl (plantonic)?
Or do they all know straight from the start?
TW: None
Info: Crowley, Grim, Sam, Cruel, Trien x Reader (Platonic)
🍓Hello lovely! I didn't want to make a whole long post about this, but I do want to talk about it. I'm so glad you asked!
So the staff is... made aware of the situation, obviously. But, I think I'll go a little into depth on how each member deals with this information.
Crowley knows because... well... he sees you out of the ceremonial robes before anyone else does. He handles it as well as he does every other issue he comes across. "Just cover it up!" Famously said by Crowley. He's not unkind though, he does ensure that you get the help you need and he makes sure you keep what you need hidden, well, hidden. But... he won't do more than the bare minimum unless his hand is forced. Like... with Scarabia, he pretty much threatened the whole dorm with expulsion if they so much as uttered a word to anyone but amongst themselves. He is, unsurprisingly, not a father figure to you. He's more like... you're weird quirky uncle that you like, but only in small doses.
Grim, our little guy, finds out at the same time as Crowley... and he's a little harder to convince to keep his mouth shut to start. He doesn't like you, okay, you stole his position at NRC (like he had a chance at all). With a few well-placed cans of tuna from both you and Crowley, he keeps his little rat mouth shut. However, when you're actually granted studentship as NRC? His tune changes. It changes because Crowley holds his position as a student over his head, but it changes. Not a SINGLE person will ever hear you're a woman from Grim. He can't lose this position, not after so much work to get where he's gotten to. Besides, he grows to really love you! You're family to him, and no one out family. Seriously, he's so protective of it, once Ace and Deuce figure it out they're too scared to talk because of Grim's looming presence.
Sam is the first member of Staff to find out, other than Crowley. How? Crowley's sudden interest in pads, tampons, birth control, and all the fun stuff that comes with being a woman. Sam usually would just shrug his shoulders and excuse Crowley's quirky behavior, but then you come in looking like a lost deer and he gets it. He is genuinely so nice to you though! If you ever feel unsafe on campus, you talk to Sam and he'll handle it for you, okay? Sure, he jacks up the prices on your feminine products, but it's considerably less than his normal prices. Hell, if you're short, he'll "suddenly" remember he's got a discount on those items. He's like a cool older brother, honestly. He lets you hang out in the back of the shop and do homework when you ask, and he gives you snacks at a discount when you're there!
Crewel doesn't really treat you any differently than anyone else. Admittedly though, he's fond of you, even if you're a troublemaker. When you come into his class on your first day in a uniform six times too big for you, he feels pity for you. You didn't ask to be here, and now you have to wear that atrocious old uniform? You poor little pup. He's not exactly easy on you, but he's more understanding of your mistakes. Eventually, after you get to know him better, he offers to get you a nicer uniform and also privately tutor you. This is his excuse for keeping you busy so that you don't have as many chances to get found out, and it's also because you are horrifically failing his class and it looks bad on him.
Trien treats you the most differently out of everyone on staff. The SECOND he found out you were a girl and were being forced to hide that fact for Crowley's sake? Oh my god, grandpa was PISSED. Crowley got an EARFUL after that meeting. This man makes it his mission to make your stay as comfortable as he possibly can make it because sevens know Crowley won't be doing SHIT. After he meets you? Oh my god, you remind him of his own girls when they were little. He absolutely adores you, and everyone can tell. It's so odd to the other students because he clearly favors you, and when they ask you about it you've got no clue. He is your dad here at NRC, as out of character as that might be. You are a young woman lost in a world that is not kind to you going through so much more than you need to. He doesn't want to add more to your plate. You can come to him for anything and he will provide as best as he can.
Vargas (I'm sorry for forgetting about him lol) is a lot like Crewel in the fact that he doesn't treat you too differently from his other students. You're still made to push yourself to your upper limits for gym, still expected to keep up with your peers, and still expected to meet his general expectations. However, if it's way too much for you to do, out of fear of Crowley and Trien breathing down his neck, he'll lessen your load. Otherwise, he doesn't really have much chance to be around you outside of class. He finds you amusing and knows you've got a good head on your shoulders, but that's about it from him.
#bunni babbles 🍓#twst#twisted wonderland#twst x reader#twisted wonderland x reader#bunni's treats 🧁#x reader#crowley x reader#sam x reader#trein x reader#mozus trein#twst crewel#crewel x reader#twst crowley#twst sam#twst grim#vargas x reader#twst vargas
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the paper salesman
Brother's best friend!Jim Halpert x f!reader
Rating: 18+
My masterlist I Max's masterlist
Summary: You spot your childhood crush at a birthday party and end up in his room together.
Warnings: Smut, AU where Pam does not exist, alcohol, oral (f receiving), handjob, semi protected PIV, creampie, squirting.
A/N: Well, well, well, if it isn't me and my froggy friend @macfrog back with another fic. But this time, it's not satire - this one is actually serious, and we are taking full advantage of everyone's teenage crush on season 2 Jim.
Word count: 6k
You pick at the edge of your wine glass, nodding along as the sound of your brother’s girlfriend talking about work turns into a low, buzzing sort of hum, indistinguishable from the other voices in the room. It seems that turning thirty was the catalyzing event for your older brother’s birthday parties to turn from all-nighters at clubs to barbecues at his new house. The attendance changed too — what used to be a crowd of girls in tight, short dresses has been replaced by a landscape of coworkers and childhood friends that he has reconnected with over the past year.
There’s a couple people singing karaoke by the TV across the room, and although neither of them are singing in tune, you cheer them on as you half-heartedly listen to your future sister-in-law’s story. People are scattered around in groups of two, three, or four, chatting amongst themselves against the tapestry of multicolored string lights and framed photos. You can’t imagine your brother had much to do with the interior design choices, and assume Stacie took him to the department store and filled a shopping cart with lights and lamps and frames that would make the living space for two thirty-year-old men a little less bland and sterile.
But still, despite the obvious decorative touch of Mark’s girlfriend around the room – you can’t help but wonder which parts were chosen by his roommate.
Jim Halpert – your brother’s best friend for as long as you can remember. Six-foot-something, polite and awkwardly charming. Lingering on your front steps to walk with Mark to school, backpack slung over one shoulder, or waiting patiently in the kitchen doorway while your brother finishes eating dinner, a basketball sat in the ‘c’ of his elbow. Making a whole lot of nothing conversation with your mom about school, about how his brothers were doing, growing bashful when she’d bring up girlfriends.
He’s five years older than you, but that ten-year-old ghost of yourself would sit twirling the fork in her fingers, mindlessly dragging mashed potato around her plate. Watching the way he’d toss the flicks of fringe from his eyes, cross one foot over the other as he answered every incessant question of your mother’s with the dutiful respect of a well-raised boy. Your crush was obvious back then, easily spotted by her whenever Jim stayed for dinner. You’d look away, bite back your smile and try to stifle your laugh at his jokes, hoping he wouldn’t notice. That little crush stayed with you, despite the boys you went on to date in high school, and the ones you slept with and tried to get serious with in college to no avail. Every time you came back from the holidays, Jim would inevitably show up for dinner one day, and you would revert back to that shy ten-year-old, sitting in the same seats as you did back then.
You watched him become a man in front of your eyes, and by the time you started getting physical with your first boyfriend, little thoughts began to weasel themselves into your mind about Jim. It was entirely inappropriate, and that curiosity should have directed itself exclusively to the boy who had taken you out to the movies, to prom and to homecoming, but you wondered what Jim looked like shirtless, you wondered about his experience, about the size of his cock. One weekend in your freshman year of college, with nothing else to do but to visit your parents, you tagged along with Mark to his basketball game, and sat on the bleachers with your eyes glued to Jim, to the sweat that darkened his jersey and the undeniable bulge in his shorts. He came up to say hi after, his brown hair drenched with sweat as well, looking at you through stunning green eyes as he asked how school was going. You made him laugh with a story about a professor, and the sound of his chuckles echoed in your mind the rest of the night. He had moved out of his parents’ house by then, and started working as a salesman at a paper company in town.
He still works there – as far as you know, at least, based on what he told you the last time you saw him, picking him and Mark up from their high school reunion two years back.
Mark had drank a little too much and had needed Jim’s steady arm around his shoulder to direct him to your car. You swallowed down the butterflies which quickly took flight in your stomach as you watched the two figures stumble towards your Honda, the taller of the two lending you a small smile as he slotted your brother into the front seat. You kept your composure right up until he closed the front door, and then you sped all the way home with your heart racing and your blood pumping.
“Some people are just allergic to receiving help,” Stacie announces, yelling a little over the screeching of the karaoke mics. She’s rambling to one of Mark’s coworkers – Hal? Sal? – about one of her co-workers, some new kid fresh from college who can’t work the printer by himself and refuses to let her show him.
You’re about to get up for a refill when a weight slides onto the couch by your side, nudging you with a sweatered elbow.
“Fancy seeing you here,” he mutters, and when you turn, your breath catches at the sight of those familiar green eyes and flicks of brown hair.
“Hey,” you reply, fingers awkwardly lifting to tuck some hair behind your ear. You feel a heat flush into your cheeks and pray it doesn’t show in an embarrassing dewy glow to Jim. “Cool party. Karaoke’s a nice touch.”
“Eh,” he shrugs, giving you his signature smirk. His voice is so deep, a little husky even, as he sits close, “It’s an easy way to keep the guests entertained without me having to do much of anything, or your brother, for that matter.”
You hum in response, reluctantly annoyed that Mark is already at the front of his mind when he sees you. “Are you still working that paper job?”, you ask, raising an eyebrow and hoping that your nerves don’t come across, that he’ll simply consider you as flirty to everyone if your attempts don’t land.
“Yeah,” he says, nodding, picking at the label of his beer bottle for a moment.
“Salesman of the year?”
“Well,” he chuckles, his head tilting to the side, a little unsure, “Maybe sometimes.” Is he embarrassed? Shy? You watch his eyes as they flicker up and scan the room. “What are you up to these days?”, he asks when his eyes land back on you, flaring open for a split second before they settle on yours.
“You know,” you shrug, eyes looping once around the room, “Working, the usual.” You feel your chest tighten with an urge to come up with something more fucking interesting than work. Your fingers hooked behind your ear again, you sputter, “Got my hair done last week.”
Jim smiles, reassuringly so. “Yeah,” he says, nodding, “I can tell. It looks good. I like the, uh –”, he points a little haphazardly, “The way you styled it. Suits you.”
“Thanks,” your cheeks swell in a genuine smile, averting his gaze as the compliment seeps into your skin. You twirl the stem of your glass in your fingers, and Jim knocks a knuckle against the rim.
“You need a top up?”, he asks, standing up.
“Yeah, actually,” you reply, taking his hand when he offers it and pulling yourself to your feet.
You follow him through to the kitchen, dodging the erratic arm movements of some guy chittering to Mark about stocks, and over to the fridge. You lean your hip against the counter, watching as Jim carefully refills your wine and slides it back across to you.
You take a tentative sip under his watchful gaze, and raise your eyebrows, nodding subtly in approval as you swallow, “This is pretty good. What’s a guy like you doing with decent wine in his fridge?”
He lets out a nervous laugh and looks around, takes a sip of the glass he poured himself. “I actually got it for a, uh- a date, a couple weeks ago,” he doesn’t look at you as he speaks, looking out through the dining room, “She said it was good so I figured I’d get some for tonight.”
Oof. A tinge of jealousy makes your stomach curl, and you take another large sip, forcing it down as you think of what to say. You can still hear the out of tune melodies from the living room, though the silence between you and Jim drowns out the noise. “What did you do?”, you ask, hoping you can mask your jealousy with a sneaky tone.
“Took her to dinner a few times, walked around a bit, came back here and had some wine.”
You want to gag, just a little bit. “And how come she’s not here tonight then?”
“Didn’t really, uh– didn’t really work out, so…”
“So you’re just sitting here day in and day out with her wine in the fridge, waiting for her to come back?”
Jim breathes a laugh, pushing the air from his cheeks, “Alright. Wow. That one stung.”
You giggle, taking a step closer, “I’m just messing with you,” you say into your glass. Each splash of alcohol over your tongue filling you with more courage.
He tilts his head, eyebrows cocked, “Tell me about your love life, then, up on your high horse.”
You stifle another girlish giggle, using it to mask your reaction to the awkward question. Your love life – if you could even call it that – has been even more miserable than Jim’s sounds. Messages left on read, painful first dates with jocks still stuck in their high school eras, with uptight career men who only cared to talk about themselves, or with guys who had weird hobbies and left you to pay the bill for a date they asked you on.
You’ve gotten good at avoiding the topic with your mom, turning it instead into conversation about Mark and Stacie, framing it into a question of, When are they thinking of getting married? Having kids of their own, right, Mom?, but standing in front of the one guy you’ve been shamelessly crushing on since you were ten years old – it becomes a little harder to divert.
“Uh,” you mumble, the rim of your glass balanced on your bottom lip, “I’m – I’m just taking some time to myself right now, you know? Focusing on me.”
He grins, almost gleeful. Electricity pulses through your veins. “Nice save,” he tells you, tipping his glass towards you, “I hear what you’re really saying.”
“Oh?”
“Yep,” he says, matter-of-factly, “You also got dumped at Red Lobster.”
You snort, then apologize, closing your eyes and trying to stifle your grin as you try to collect yourself. “Red lobster,” you clear your throat, “That’s pretty bad. At least it wasn’t Chili’s. And I would know, cause I got dumped at Chili’s.”
The two of you keep it together for a few moments, looking at the floor, until you meet each other’s eyes and burst into laughter, having this absolutely pathetic little thing in common. The sound of his laugh makes your chest flutter, the sight of his smile and his hand running through his hair. He wipes the tears from his eyes as he looks at you, and you bite the tip of your tongue, trying to halt the uncontrollable giggles that make your stomach hurt.
When you’re composed, a couple more swigs of wine down your throat, you settle back against the counter and say, “So. When’s the tour leaving?”
Jim’s eyebrows lift, “The tour?”
You nod, “House tour. Mark hasn’t shown me around yet. The most I’ve seen is your downstairs bathroom.”
He scoffs. Pushes off from the counter, the wine in his glass splashing, “He’s a terrible host. C’mon, I’ll show you around.”
Your heels click along the tile floor as you squeeze between bodies, heading for the hallway where Jim pauses. “Bathroom,” he says, nodding to the door right by the stairs, “But you already knew that.” He steps back against the wall at the first step, holding a hand out to usher you up first. “Ladies first,” he says, smiling genially.
You snort, but waltz by his body, holding onto the handrail as you climb the stairs carefully, the alcohol mixed with your shoe choice making it a dangerous feat. Jim’s close behind, footsteps slowly echoing your own, and you can’t help but think of the tight, short skirt of your dress, the way it hugs your thighs, the placement of his gaze as he wanders up behind you.
Reaching the top of the stairs, you look around at the assortment of doors, waiting for Jim to tell you which room serves as the first stop. You can sense him right behind you, slightly to your side, and out of the corner of your eye, you see him looking down at you, swallowing slowly. “Mark’s room,” he says, nodding to the right and waiting until you look up at him before he takes a step over and opens the door. He lets you peek inside, look around until you nod and step back, before he urges you forward, towards another door.
“Upstairs bathroom,” he remarks, and you give the room a similar examination, noticing the streak-free mirror.
“Looks… clean,” you say, as if there’s anything better to say about a typical bathroom. He gives a muttered thanks in return, then points to the last door.
“And that’s my room.”
“May I?”, you grin, then step fully inside, looking around at his bed, his dresser, and finally, his desk. You sit down in the office chair and give it a test spin, before your attention is caught by the art on the wall. “What’s this?”, you ask, while he steps in as well, hesitating for a second as he looks at the door, opting to leave it open before he comes over and sits down on his bed.
Jim’s head wobbles as he searches for an answer. “It’s – well, it’s – you know. It’s…a print that I…liked.”
“You have no idea, do you?”
“Not a clue,” he responds, quick as a bullet. “I saw it at a yard sale – thought it went with the colors of my bedsheets. That’s how interior design works, right?”
You smile, “Sure. You’re no Stacie, but – sure.”
Jim nods. Your eye is drawn to the dip in the bed where he sits, the weight of his wide frame on the mattress. His open thighs, his elbows resting on his knees, wine swirling as he slowly rocks the glass. He slowly lifts it to his lips, taking a sip without breaking your stare.
You cross your legs by instinct. Your skirt rides a little higher. Jim glances down, and then straight back up. You can feel your blood thrumming through every limb, every part of your body sensitized and alight. It doesn’t help any when he stands from the bed and wanders over, towering over you as he looks at something on the desk.
He reaches over your shoulder, and you can smell his cologne on his sweater, sharp and fresh, a hint of something sweeter. He pulls a photo frame from the shelf behind you and turns it around.
“Graduation,” he says, and your eyes are drawn down to the cheesy grins of him and your brother, donned in black mortarboards and sweeping gowns.
You nod, pretending you’re paying attention. But he’s so close that his jeans rub against your bare legs, so close that you’re staring up just to meet his eye. Your palms begin to perspire, his voice turning into a blur as he points to a couple other frames, photos of people you didn’t recognize in places you couldn’t quite place. The rest of your wine is downed in a single sip, the glass carefully placed behind you, on the surface of his desk.
Jim seems to have finished recounting memories to you, but he doesn’t move. Stays stood over you, his own drink forgotten on the floor by his bed. A silence falls between you – but not the thick, awkward kind of silence you’re used to around guys. It’s lighter, it’s breathable. It swirls around your limbs like the fluttering feeling in your belly, wraps tightly around them and pushes you to your feet, the back of Jim’s chair rocking against his desk.
You’re eye-to-eye, your chest pushing gently against his. He glances down to your lips, wet with wine and the dabbing of your tongue, and then back up. He leans in, curving around your shoulders to set the photo frame still in his hand back on the desk. When he straightens up again, your hands find his chest.
You stare at one another, seemingly a thousand words exchanged between your soft, drunken gaze and his – and yet, none of them pass your lips. There’s a weight on your waist – Jim’s hands either side of your body, squeezing the tight fabric of your dress. You tilt your head, moving closer, lips parting. And he leans in.
He kisses you, slow at first. Your hands lift to cup his jaw, steady yourself on the weight of him. All of your past selves begin to bubble to the surface, each one lighting your skin, pulling on every nerve. Jim feels warm, his lips wet and sweet from the alcohol. Your nails sift through his hair, tugging gently as he pushes his tongue deeper into your mouth. He groans lightly, seemingly as hungry for you as you are for him, holding himself back, handling you with a care and gentleness you hope he might set aside. You’ve wanted him for so long and you’ll let him do anything, you want all of him, you want him to ravage you and fuck you until you stumble down the staircase and until you can never look your brother in the eyes.
There’s a smashing sound from downstairs and a squeal, followed by a chorus of disappointment from the other guests. It splits the two of you apart, bumping teeth as your lips disconnect. You’re both panting, hot breath occupying the space between you. You can feel the hardness of his bulge pushing against you, and your arousal building, spreading to the tips of your breasts as your nipples harden. He’s huge, you can already tell, and you swallow around a lump in your throat, trying not to think of how long it’s been since you felt a man inside of you.
Jim smiles, still holding you close to his body. Your hands wrap around his wrists, and you lean into him again to whisper, “I think we should close the door.”
He nods, and steps back to let you by. You close the door slowly, letting it thud into place as quiet as you can, despite the obvious chaos happening downstairs. When you step back towards him, his eyes are on yours, hands reaching out to pull you closer, one around your waist and one around the nape of your neck, letting you melt into his hold while he locks his lips with yours. You hope he can’t feel the rapid beating of your heart or the dampness of your skin, letting your hands fall to the edge of his pants and starting to fumble with the button.
You start to unzip his jeans while he walks you back towards his bed, licking into your mouth and nibbling on your lower lip. You slip a hand down over his clothed cock, carefully palming it and feeling the girth and contours against your skin. He lets out a slight grunt at your touch, moving his hand down to squeeze your ass cheek through your dress, his large hand grabbing your flesh and kneading it with the aggression you’ve been hoping for, just a hint of it coming through in the firmness of his grasp.
He reaches the bed as you draw your hand out of his pants and dip your fingers behind his waistband, feeling the goosebumps spreading across his skin, grabbing hold of the stretchy fabric and lifting it up, over his erection, pulling it down alongside his pants to see his cock hanging free, flushed and wet at the tip. You bite his lip before you pull back to look, and can’t help a whimper escaping your throat as you brush your fingertips along his length. It feels endless, long veins bulging out that you trace with your nails. He's so thick, wide at the root, all the way to the tip. He can't possibly fit inside but you clench at the thought of him trying. Another pearly bead of precome spills out from his slit at your touch, and with his hands still grasping your neck and the meat of your ass, you gently rub the pad of your thumb over this head, feeling the slick slide of his spend beneath your finger, then wrap your hand around him, fingertips not even close to meeting, and stroke him slowly.
Your breaths are shallow, rapid, and when you feel your mouth start to water at the sight of his cock sliding through your hand, Jim pulls you back in to kiss you, grunting and groaning while your hand slides rhythmically up and down, making him throb with arousal. He moves his hips, fucking into your grasp with hushed moans that send your head spinning, your cunt pulsing.
Jim begins to peel the dress from your shoulders, slipping the fabric down until your breasts are exposed, the chilly edge of the air hardening your nipple. He pauses, watches the rhythmic movements of your soft, supple tits as your hand pumps up and down, the rise and fall of your chest with each breath. His fingers dig deep beneath the ruffled fabric, tugging it lower and lower until he’s lifting your hips, disturbing the lace of your panties as he discards the dress to the floor.
You pause as he strips the sweater from his shoulders, tossing it to some corner of the room before he’s back on you, the slick tip of his dick leaving sticky trails on your lower stomach.
“You’re so, so good at that,” he murmurs against your lips, sentence broken in two by another hot, wet kiss. Your eyes roll at the taste of him, the strength of his tongue against yours, the hunger with which he takes your bottom lip between his teeth and sucks, letting it go only to fill your mouth with himself again. You push at the edge of his jeans and boxers, bunching them up in your hands and tugging at them until he takes over, bringing you with him while he takes them off, leaving him bare and you in only your little scrap of fabric you call your panties.
He pulls you in as he sits down on the bed, placing you on his lap, letting you wind your hips, dragging the silky lace of your thong up along his hard length while you lick across his tongue, while you swallow his saliva and feel the ridges of his cock bumping against your clit. At the sound of your whimpers, he picks you up in his arms, lays you down on his bed, and settles between your legs, leaving wet kisses up and down your neck, trailing down to your chest, taking your nipple into his mouth and licking it slowly. Your back arches, the slick of your arousal beginning to seep out into the panties he teases with his fingers, hooking them under the thin straps and slowly pulling at them as his lips trail down between your tits, slowly over your stomach, reaching the very top of your mound before he drags the straps over your thighs to reveal you for him.
You open your legs and Jim presses into the underside of your thighs, pushing them wider. His eyes focus on the sight of you, spread open in front of him, his tongue lifting to run along his lips. You sit up on your elbows, glossy eyes watching as he leans in, a trail of kisses dotted along the seam of your thigh, until his lips are hovering over your throbbing cunt.
“Jim,” you whisper, sifting your fingers through his hair, moving it from his face.
He looks up and you share a glance, a message sent wordlessly from your eyes to his. A smirk pulls across his lips, reading your mind instantly. He lowers his jaw and his tongue drags a long, soaking stripe up your slit.
Your grip tightens in his hair, head thrown back to the blue sheets. Your throat catches a lewd moan before it has a chance to cut through the air, exposing you both to the guests downstairs. Sorry, you whisper, but he shakes his head. “You don't have to be quiet,” he reassures, leaving his gaze on you as he leans back and gives your clit a few wet licks, kicking up your sensitivity and making you clench. He must be able to tell, because just as you tilt your head back into the pillow while he kisses and licks at the part of you most sensitive and needy for his attention, he pushes two fingers into your pussy, stretching you gently as he curls them. He presses into a spot so tender you can't catch the moans spilling out between your lips, begging for more when you're already so close, having fantasized about this for years – his tongue on your clit and his fingers inside of you, softening you for the inevitable stretch of his cock, so much thicker and longer than you could imagine, big and hard and bound to let you feel him tomorrow.
He begins to suckle, swirling his tongue until you grip his hair and moan that you're close, so close, and he releases you from his mouth, still sliding his fingers slowly in and out, moving to place kisses to the inside of your thigh. You let out a huff, and hear a faint chuckle from between your legs, licking and kissing at your skin, right beside your outer folds, close to where you need him.
Another wave of arousal crashes through you when he makes contact with your clit again, a wet drag of his tongue making you whimper and pull at his hair harder, trying to keep him right where he is until he lets you come. Jim pulls around your clit, lips sucking and tongue flicking as his fingers pump in and out, winding your orgasm like the tide withdrawing, only to let it crash forward in a flood of pleasure.
Your back arches, breath freezes to nothing in your throat until your climax passes, washing over you in heavy, shuddering ripples. You pant, your chest heaving as you look down at the smile on his face, the evidence of your satisfaction glistening on his lips.
Jim pushes himself up from the mattress, knees planting firm between your open legs, fisting his cock over you. You blink the room back into focus slowly, feeling the bed dip by your ear. He settles on top of you, looking down to guide his cock to your needy and spent sex. His tip presses against your hole, sensitive and soaking, and he glances back up.
“Jim?”, you whisper, chest heaving when you feel the subtle intrusion at your opening.
“Yeah?”
“I want you inside me, I want you to fuck me.”
Mhmm, he teases the tip around your entrance, lets the thick head of him slide up to your clit before he glides back down, gently pushing in, a tiny little bit of pressure, not enough to make you wince but groan instead, hating and loving how he teases you. Another push, his tip lodged inside, stretching you open further than you thought possible, while your pussy drools down his shaft, sucking him in and covering him in your wetness. He grunts quietly, not immune to the wet, warm clutch he’s sinking into, inch by inch, while you wrap your hands around his jaw, looking into his bright green eyes, lids hooded, breaking the eye contact to glance down at where he enters you, letting out a breathy moan when you suck him all the way in and he reaches your cervix. He hisses when he retracts, gliding out so slowly, covered in your shiny slick.
You arch your back when he reaches the end of you again, leaning down onto his elbows so his lips can press into your neck, kissing you like he has all the time in the world, little licks to your skin while he glides out and presses back into you, letting you adjust to his size, making space for himself and soothing you as you’re overwhelmed by him. Your legs come to wrap around his waist, tilting your hips slightly upward to let him reach deeper, moaning his name and incoherent curses, grabbing the back of his neck and his broad shoulders, feeling your clit rub against his pelvis, bringing you closer so slowly you barely notice it happening.
You lower your arms, slipping your hands under his and lacing your fingers. Your knees bend, resting against his ribcage. With each brush of his hair against your clit, he moves faster, thrusting harder, pushing deeper. Tiny yelps leave your mouth the more he fucks you, the more the bed rocks, the headboard knocking against the wall. Your head turns, moaning delicately into his ear as he sucks on your skin.
“I know,” he whispers against your pulse, “You feel so good, sweetheart. So tight around me.”
“Jim,” you’re whining, gasping for air each time he pushes all the way in. You let go of your grip on him and drape your arms over his shoulders, fingers toying with his hair, slowly dampening with sweat. Each glide of his cock inside you ends with a sweet bite of pain, his tip hammering roughly into the edge of your cunt.
His teeth graze the sensitive skin below your jaw, leaving behind marks you’re silently hoping will still be visible in the morning. His hands travel downward, taking hold of your waist and lifting you up to his body like you weigh nothing at all.
“Here,” he says, slipping out of you, thick white thread dribbling between your pussy and his cock. He motions for you to sit up, beckoning you with a flick of his fingers. “Come here, put your feet on my calves.” You oblige, planting each foot behind his thighs as he kneels. “Now lay down, just relax,” he coos, wrapping both hands around your waist to pull you up into a bridge, letting you dip your shoulder blades onto the sheets. He lifts one hand away from your side and guides his cock back into you, giving a few slow strokes with his palm, pushing gently on your stomach.
Then his hands grip your hips tightly, he pulls you back onto him and gives you a moment to stabilize before he fucks into you even deeper than before. Your tits slide up and down your chest with every single one of this deep thrusts, and you watch his eyes as they stay glued to your body, his mouth hanging open, panting, grunting, digging his fingers into your flesh, trying to hold back while you squirm and writhe, moaning and whimpering, not giving a fuck who might hear it, trying to keep his name out of your mouth in case someone needs to use the bathroom next door.
He pounds into you, hitting the softest, most tender spot inside of your body, your head rolls back on his pillow, tiptoeing the line between pain and pleasure, feeling him in your stomach. “I’m gonna come, I’m gonna come, fuck, fuck,” the words are forced out of you just as a warm stream of liquid squirts out of you, drenching his groin and making him groan. Your orgasm is so intense you nearly howl, feeling more and more of your arousal dripping down his shaft and spurting onto his pelvis, soaking the sheets beneath you, getting wet and sticky with your come and his sweat, watching his hair stick to his forehead while he continues to fuck you, needing every last drop of your climax.
You’re fucking spent, but he won’t relent quite yet, flipping you over and onto all fours, yanking you back by your hips. He enters you from behind and you groan in satisfaction, needing him right there, just like that, feeling your eyes roll to the back of your head. His hand twists in your hair, wrapping it around his palm and tugging at it while he grunts, rough and loud in your ear, nearly drowned out by the lewd smacking of your ass against his hips.
Your hand dips between your legs, fingers rubbing messy circles around your swollen clit, thinking how many times you’ve dreamt of this exact scenario with your fingers buried inside, bringing yourself to the brink of orgasm by the mere thought of Jim. And now, feeling him, the tug on your hair, the ache between your legs, the hoarse cries jumping from your throat.
“Not gonna last much longer,” Jim grunts, wet slaps cutting between his words, “Fuck, sweetheart, that feel good?”
“Yes, Jim,” you whine, your hand jerking with each meeting of his hips on your ass. Come dribbles down the seam of your thigh as you feel your second high begin to wind, white heat flooding downwards. “So – fucking – good. Ah, I want you to come inside me.”
“You sure?”, he pants, holding on by a thread.
“Yeah, I – I’m on the pill.”
Jim pulls you upright by the hair, flush against his stomach, and places his hand over yours to rub your clit together. You lean your head back against his shoulder, body freezing as you come for him again. He groans when you pinch around him, movements becoming sloppy.
“Oh – oh, fuck, I’m – I’m coming, I’m coming,” he moans, lips pushing hard into your neck as he twitches and then stills, and you feel the warm spurts of his come deep inside. The two of you groan, strangled and drawn out, collapsing on the bed with his arms around you and his cock softening inside. You listen to the sounds of the party downstairs, the two of you trying to catch your breaths, and he kisses along the back of your shoulder, brushing his thumb back and forth where it rests over your waist.
“What are we gonna tell Mark?”, he asks.
You pause for a beat, then turn your head to him, “We’re telling Mark?”
“Yeah, I mean, you’ve wanted it, I’ve wanted it. I don’t want this to be a one time thing, I want it to be more than that, so at some point–”.
“More than what?”, you respond, your heartbeat returning to its heightened state earlier in the night.
“More than just sex.”
“Oh.”
“I’m really into you,” he whispers, “I didn’t know if you felt the same way about me but it seems like you do, so–”.
You shift around to face him, push his sweat damp locks away from his face and look into his eyes. Shy heat floods your face as you smile at him and nod carefully, biting the inside of your cheek.
“You wanna go back downstairs?” he asks, fingertips ghosting down your spine before he reaches your thigh and hooks your knee over his leg, “We have Islands in the Stream on the karaoke machine, I know you like that song.”
“Sure… In a bit.”
#jim halpert x reader#jim halpert imagine#jim halpert fic#jim halpert fanfic#the office fanfiction#jim halpert
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A Goose Family Feathursday
Mildred and Horace Start a Family!!
Every spring for the past few years a mating pair of Canada Geese take up residence on the green roof outside our window for a couple of weeks. We've named them Horace and Mildred, and we did a post about them in 2021. We wondered if they would ever establish a nest in the roof's sedum, but they just hang out for a few weeks and then depart. This year they finally decided that our roof was suitable to start a family and about 20 days ago Mildred set up housekeeping with a downy nest and six eggs near one of the vents on the roof. We are all very excited here in Special Collections, and we maintain daily goose alerts!
Mildred will incubate her brood for about 30 days, rarely leaving the nest. She is a very devoted mother. Horace on the other hand is usually gone during the day, so we rarely see him. Canada Geese are monogamous and mate for life, so we don't think he's cheating on Mildred, but we all thought he would be more present as the male usually hangs about to help guard the nest, but apparently he has other ideas.
We should see some hatchlings in about ten days or so, and we'll bring you an update then. While we are interested in seeing the couple nest on our roof, we also have concerns. There is no water, and the goslings will be susceptible to falling off the roof and becoming prey to raptors and other avian predators, especially the peregrine falcons that raise their own families on the nearby roofs of our campus's tallest buildings. Nature will have its way, but we do hope that Mildred and Horace have strategies for keeping their family safe.
Stay tuned!
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X. ~Survival~
Genre: Historical AU, angst, mature, suggestive, arranged-marriage
Warnings: Dark themes, gore, graphic imagery, theme/depictions of horror, body horror, swearing/language, suggestive, pregnancy, mentions and acts of suicide, arguments, mentions of adult murder, Pet name (Little Flower 6-10x) implied Stockholm Syndrome, grief imagery, images/depictions of dead bodies, child death/murder, character death(s), slight misogynistic themes (if you squint), dubcon/noncon (not any actual smut other than vague mentions of sex), implied postpartum, implied survivors guilt
Word Count: 3.5k
A/N: Today is a new day and after I got home from work and did some fine-tuning, I finally posted the FINAL CHAPTER (not including the epilogue) of Survival!!! I honestly find it funny that I had originally planned for this story to be a short series and it just spiraled into two years of writing! HAHAHAHAA!!!
JJK Mlist•Taglist Rules• • Pt.I • Pt. II • Pt. III • Pt. IV • Pt. V • Pt. VI • Pt.VII • Pt. VIII • Pt. IX • Pt. X • Epilogue
Emptiness.
It was a feeling that you bitterly greeted after having abandoned it six years ago. It was disappointing, but welcome nonetheless. You wished it was under different circumstances. You did not know which circumstances but knew it was anything other than this.
After the destruction of your life, everything went back to the beginning. You were rehomed in a new village and a different temple, though you could not tell much of the difference. Those blank walls still drove you to insanity. The marriage ceremonies had resumed and more children began crawling the halls in a matter of months.
Sukuna had seemingly lost interest in you after the incident. You had finally snapped, extinguishing the anticipation for the hopes that you would one day. Despite his seeming lack of interest, you were still watched over with diligence, still resided in his chambers, and still acquired a caretaker.
Your mental forces were deteriorating, and it was clear from the blank expression that graced your face. You assumed that Sukuna acknowledged that and decided to have a sitter stay on top of you if you were to do something unexpected– much like what you had done to your village.
The curse user knew the extent of your rage, but he did not quite expect you to leave your home in ruins, to burn your family into nothing but ash. Little to your knowledge, a part of him admired you for that; however, the words that left your mouth after the act had been done brought him a discomfort that neither himself could explain.
From the way he was rutting in you currently, you could not tell. Another attempt of impregnating you. Years ago, you would have had a mind to beg him to stop, and when you could not accomplish that, feign pleasure. You used to want to please Sukuna not for his benefit but your own. Now all you cared about was embracing the feeling of that emptiness as you merely felt the man fucking you: soundless, motionless, thoughtless.
It took a matter of months before you were with child again; however, unlike before, this pregnancy was worse. In the physical aspect, you were overall healthy, but your mental health was far from good. You were a husk of the woman you once were, having lost all ambition for your future. Even when spontaneous thoughts of what life would be like outside the temple, you could not help but feel nauseous.
Guilt.
There were times you wished you could have blamed it on your pregnancy and escape the reality of the issue, but your mind would not allow it. You were repulsed with yourself and could not help but feel like you were betraying your twins by just the simple notion that you were alive, and to think of a future for yourself without them revolted you beyond compare. Your pregnancy did not make it any better.
Most women in the temple thought of pregnancy as a fresh start after losing their previous offspring; a new chance to impress their husband– a sickening point of view; however, you could not be upset with them. Deep down, you believed they had been just as afraid as you were upon their arrival when their village elders proclaimed them the next tribute to Sukuna. They more than likely had a plan to make it out of this hell and made promises to return to their families, but somewhere down the line, all the manipulation, physical strain, and mental stress, caused them to accept their fates and try to make the best out of it, losing themselves in the process.
You were not so lucky.
If pregnancy was a punishment before, it was a curse now. Knowing you were to have another child brought you great remorse. Anytime you were to look or even feel your bump, you could not help but think of the past... to think of your twins. It felt like you were betraying them, trying to unconsciously replace them even though your pregnancy was out of your control.
The way you would eat at yourself could have been considered torture.
Besides the normal work around the temple, you would spend most of your evenings in a dark and unoccupied room, keeping to yourself. No one dared to disrupt you, mostly out of fear due to the knowledge of your power. Few left you space out of respect, knowing the pain you were going through; however, sometimes you wished they would walk through that door, hoping they would attempt to comfort you.
It would have been a good distraction from your running mind.
Those dark and quiet rooms gave you time to think and reflect. You realized there were many things you had undermined and denied for your own sanity. The list could go on, some minor, some major…and the major miscalculations stuck out like a sore thumb.
Trimester One.
Despite your efforts, your village nor your family would have ever accepted your children– Sukuna's blood coursed through their veins, and that was enough to consider them a monstrosity. Your hopes of escaping with them and living a happy life were an illusion you conjured up to keep a drive in you.
Trimester Two.
Whether you liked it or not, your twins would not stay innocent forever. The twins were under Sukuna's guidance, no thanks to your pact, and they absolutely adored him. The twins blindly trusted him with their entire beings and would have believed anything Sukuna had taught them was for good, and you knew for a fact that is how your partner would have spun it. Their acts would have been malicious and cruel and they would not have even known...and despite your want to tell them the truth, the constraints of your pact would have stopped you from doing so.
Trimester Three.
Even if you had successfully run away with your son and daughter in hand, the life the three of you would have lived would have been far from peaceful. You and the children were proven valuable assets to Sukuna; to think that your husband would give you all up so easily was foolish. The curse-user would have hunted you down to the ends of the world until you were back in his grasp.
And as you sat there holding your new baby girl, tears streaming down your face as you listened to her whimpers, you hoped she'd grow up to be a fool; a strong, but foolish girl. If your daughter grew up to be a fool, the world could not hurt her as it had hurt you. If she becomes a fool, she would not have to feel the burden you were feeling.
You hated that you hoped for her, hated the fact that you loved and cared for her after laying eyes on her small figure. The whole scene was pitiful. The arms of a mother holding her child close to her bosom as if shielding them from the world– the effort could be appreciated but was futile because the looming threat was already hovering over you as he inspected his creation. If his presence was not unsettling enough, his hum of satisfaction horrified you, causing you more tears.
"I should have killed myself that morning. It would have saved me a lot of heartache..." you whispered, repeating the words you had mentioned over a year ago.
Months back into motherhood you found yourself questioning yourself and your emotional availability every time you looked at your daughter. You were doing all the right things, but performing the tasks felt heavy on your shoulders, and the smiles you painted on your face felt like they were caked on. None of it felt real. There was no doubt you cared for your little girl, but you had to admit that the task was tiring– caring was tiring.
You thought the feeling would end, believed it was temporary, but days turned into months, and months turned into a year.
You had just finished your daughter's first inspection and were now in your sleeping chambers with your husband. You both stood there silent and unmoving, staring at each other with hardly any indication of who was willing to speak first. Fortunately, your daughter was the first to break the silence, whining as she clung to you. You sighed as you understood the child needed attention, moving the baby into a better position to lightly bounce her, attempting to calm her down.
"You know, I thought you would be overjoyed to be blessed with another child, Y/n," Sukuna sounded as he studied you.
"Whatever do you mean? I am nothing but pleased," you blankly responded, focusing entirely on the little girl bouncing in your arms.
Silence once again.
You could feel his stare burning into you; feel his agitation radiating off his skin as he looked for a real answer. Sukuna was not an idiot, you were aware of that, but his meaningless probing was getting on your nerves. You would much rather he got to the point than play his mind games. If he was going to be indirect, you would only do the same.
"Do you think of them when you look at her?"
There was a halt in your movements, breath hitching as you did so. You slowly moved your head to look at the man before you, your gaze piercing. You had every intention to avoid the question, but your mouth betrayed your mind.
“What do you think?” You snipped, a grimace forming onto your features.
“I could make you forget, simply remove them from your memory to rid you of this…ailment.”
For what felt like the thousandth time of your life, you could feel your eyes widen, however, this was the most appalling statement your husband had made. Had he really suggested ridding your memories with your twins? Had he no remorse? Of course not, why would he? The children were a means to an end, nothing more than a few pawns in his plan. Any love and affection the father had shown his son and daughter were shown with calculation and precision– there was no meaning behind those affections.
"You sick bastard."
"Excuse me?"
"You heard me."
"Y/n, I would advise that you watch your tone," a warning glare, "If I did not know any better, I would say that you were speaking out of turn when I am offering you such a gift– I do not offer such things lightly."
"Well it is good that you know better," the seething anger bubbling in your chest was choosing your words at this point, "How could you suggest such a thing?"
"I am doing you a mercy, Y/n, you are letting the past consume you from the inside out, and sooner or later you will become the image of your agony."
"You know nothing because if you did you would be in the same state as I am. You speak as if you know sympathy, but your words are honeyed to keep me in your grasp!"
Your breath was heavy as you confronted Sukuna, glaring daggers into his soul as you watched him step closer.
"Your perception can be quite bothersome at times, Little Flower; however, I believe it is what I admire most about you. I think it is why I chose you...why I love you."
Love.
Love.
Love.
"Love."
Your laughter was hysterical. The tears welling up in your eyes from pure disbelief and humor. Sukuna Ryomen himself has admitted to loving you for the second time. This time claiming he chose you because he loves you.
What a joke.
"Love me?" you choked between giggles, "Sukuna, you would not know love if it hit you in the face. Like I said before, your words are coated with the sweetest sugars to keep me around, to bring me hope, and quite frankly, the sweetness has become dull and bitter," a pause as you caught your breath, "You do not love me Sukuna. As I have stated, you love what I can provide you."
Silence had greeted you both for what seemed like the millionth time, but you could have been wrong, you lost count at this point.
"I understand the concept of love, more than you think, Little Flower; however, love has little meaning. So you are right, I do not love you, I value you. Is that not greater than love?"
You scoffed.
"You are going to die alone and I am glad that you will."
A soft chuckle sounded from your husband before feeling a strange feeling at the back of your head. You could feel the kanzashi pin moving in your hair as Sukuna played with the accessory.
"I highly doubt that."
Those four words had caused your heart to sink, bringing you more fear than you had ever experienced in your entire life. Without thought, you backed away from the man towering over you. You shook your head as you held eye contact with Sukuna, almost stumbling on your feet as you felt for the door and clumsily exited the room. You had your daughter close to your chest as you entered the hallway.
What little you had of your life came crashing down instantly as the gravity of your reality unfolded to its full extent.
You would never be free and although that was a realization you had made long ago...this time you had no hope to convince you otherwise.
So what did you do?
You ran.
You flew through the corridors to the gardens, arriving with heavy breath. Scanning the grounds you searched for the only individual who could help you right now. The moment your eyes registered the woman, you quickly approached, hardly paying attention to anything along your path as you made your way over.
"Y/n-"
"I have something for you!" you interrupted, holding out a pin you had stored and concealed for years, never knowing the right moment to give it to the woman before you.
The woman who had lost her sick and poor son on your very first inspection day.
You watched as her eyes welled up immediately, taking the pin and inspecting it as if to make sure it was real. When she was able to confirm the little trinket was indeed not a figment of her imagination, she held it close to her chest, letting her silent sobs escape before looking at you.
"Thank you. Thank you so much. But why are you giving this to me?"
You looked around hesitantly before pitifully looking at her, letting your walls crumble to reveal all your pain and suffering.
"I need your help."
"Uraume!"
"Yes, Sukuna-sama," the right hand responded.
"I would like you to gather the women and children from the inspection, I have an announcement."
"Yes, Sukuna-sama, I'll get right on it."
With that Uraume disappeared, leaving Sukuna in his quarters alone. The man paced in his chambers, reflecting on the prior conversation from earlier. The talk did not have the most satisfying ending, but much like the other unfortunate discussions that had been held between the two of you, this would be another problem that would resolve itself in due time.
The move would help move that process faster.
This village had quickly bored the tyrant, as they were quick to promise vengeance and destruction upon his empire. Same-old-same-old. So with that, it was time to move on to the next village after leaving this one behind in ashes.
"Sukuna-sama, the women and children do not appear to be in their chambers or the gardens, the workstations are abandoned too.
"What?"
Without a thought, Sukuna stormed out of the room and into the halls, those blank walls making the temple look more abandoned knowing that everyone had seemingly disappeared. He looked through every room he managed to pass, even using his abilities to sense the faintest amount of cursed energy. For a while, he came up with nothing, but after catching a familiar aura, he briskly started to follow the direction it was coming from.
The curse-user found himself in the main hall, where he saw his wives and children gathered. The husband would be lying if he claimed he was not confused with the situation, but he would not show that. Instead, Sukuna decided to try and decipher the scenario.
Upon first glance, it had seemed that the women and children were gathered for a usual gathering, but upon closer observation, something was off. The looks of the individuals in the room seemed to differ. Some women seemed relieved, others looked almost proud, and others...well, the last of the women looked as if they were being held there against their will.
As the monster-of-a-man continued to scan the room, he finally managed to find you, standing in the center of the room, your head held high; however, you looked exhausted, broken. It brought that familiar discomforting feeling to Sukuna, the same feeling when you had spoken those words after you had burned down your village.
"What is this, Little Flower?" Sukuna questioned with some amusement behind his voice, masking his indifference.
"Do not call me that," you spoke, your voice barely above a whisper as it softly echoed in the room.
"Y/n-sama ple-"
"SHUT YOUR MOUTH!" you yelled, successfully silencing the crying woman who had shouted for you.
The atmosphere was tense, and he would tread carefully because Sukuna was no fool.
"What do you want, Little Flower? An apology? I can, obviously, give that to you, but we both know it would not solve much. So what is it you truly want?"
"To leave..." you weakly announced, watching as Sukuna gradually approached before stopping in his footsteps.
"Well then, Little Flower, you have gathered yourself and all your companions just in time, I was ready to announce our departure from this village. You get what you want, righ-"
"That's not what I want." you interrupted.
Sukuna was silent, his brow twitching in irritation as he stared at you, stopping mid-stride.
"Then what do you want?"
"I want the offer you gave me back on the table?" you quickly responded.
"And what offer would you be referring to, Little Flower?"
"On my very first inspection with my twins, you offered me to kill everyone in this room– I want to change my answer."
Your husband chuckled, "Do you not think the circumstances have changed a little, my dear? I gave you that option years ago, what makes you think that is something I am still willing to offer?"
"Because you love me..."
"Now you are willing to embrace that love?"
"Only if you do this one last thing for me. I will let you love me until my last mortal days, and me in return, just as long as everyone in this room dies."
A sly smirk, "As you wish, Little Flow-"
"By my hands!" you interjected.
Delight was an expression that Sukuna could not hold back at those words.
"It's a deal, Y/n."
"Perfect."
With those words sealing the pact, you took no further wait in your next actions. You ignored all the shouts and screams of those who wished to live, ridding yourself of whatever empathy you once had– you had to admit, it made things a lot easier when setting the room ablaze. Hearing their screams of agony and pain was a lot easier when you managed to wash out the humanity within you.
You could only feel relief after hearing all the shrieks and wails die out into nothing but silence. The room was filled with nothing but fire, bone, and ashes, the smell of burning flesh was prominent; however, that did not stop him from approaching you.
"I love you, Little Flower." Sukuna proclaimed, bringing his forehead to yours before softly kissing you.
He pulled away to look into your eyes, admiring them momentarily before smiling softly. Some may have mistaken it for a look of endearment, but it was a look of satisfaction. He had successfully taken your pride, dignity, and hope– he had taken all of you.
"I love you too."
And because you had no pride, dignity, or hope, left to hold on to...
It made it so much easier to bring that poison-coated dagger to your flesh and slit your belly.
For Sukuna everything went in slow motion, immediately swatting the dagger from your hand to the ground before cupping your wound, blood covering his hand in seconds. The desperate individual tried using his reverse curse technique to revert the damage, but it was pointless as you were resisting. For the first time in a long time, Sukuna felt genuine fear as he watched you slowly slip away from reality. And as everything started to play back to speed, Sukuna had a realization.
"Where is our daughter?!" The four-armed monstrosity yelled upon notice of your empty arms, continuing at attempts to stop your bleeding with little success.
Your smile made his heart drop.
"Gone." you sputtered, blood slipping from your cooling lips before going completely limp.
"...Gone where? Little Flower..."
"Little Flower!"
"LITTLE FLOWER, ANSWER ME!"
"Y/N!!!!!!!!"
You upheld your deal...you loved him for your last mortal days, it just so happened that day was seconds into a day, and as Sukuna sat there holding your motionless form, he could not have regretted anything more in his life. Making that deal was the best thing to happen in your life because in the end...
...You won the game of Survival.
And you hoped that your daughter could one day do the same.
Until the epilogue yall... (｀∀´)Ψ
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