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faeriekit · 28 days

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The Foster Mother

Now on ao3 and VHS release

There was, supposedly, someone waiting for him in the green sitting room.

“…Why?” Tim asked. Most of the usual suspects had already come by to give their “condolences”—former Drakes Industries investors, curious about the newly orphaned heir; fellow socialites, once again flocking in to give and receive sympathies for their “close friends, the Drakes”; gawkers come to see what they could scavenge off of a dead family’s home, never mind that their child was alive.

“She claims to know you, Master Tim,” Alfred offered, kettle in his hand. He spent a moment deciding between different two canisters of tea; a sign of possibly difficult future conversation. “Her interest in your father's estate seemed quite…minimal.”

…Alright.

Tim was still in his formalwear. Dissolving Drake Industries would take at least another year, and plenty of future hours cementing the future home of certain resources in their dissolution, but the outfit probably was more appropriate for whatever oncoming conversation that was about to ensue than his planned change into Dick’s old hoodie and board shorts.

Okay. Tim steeled himself. The self-determination…mostly worked. Whatever. He trudged up into the green sitting room from the kitchen with his usual introduction ready on his tongue.

And then Tim walked into the room.

And then Jazzy was there.

Tim had been three, and Miss Jasmine had been his had been his third nanny. He’d outgrown the wetnurse early on, and his second nanny had been dismissed, so although Miss Jasmine was the third nanny, she was first nanny Tim could consciously remember.

She’d had red hair. She’d been very gentle with him.

She got him up in the morning and put him to bed at night; for the first time, there had been someone who sat with him until he was asleep, reading all sorts of books his parents had left to engage him with as an early genius. Then, when those were over and done as promised to his parents, they got unauthorized books from the library: silly books with made-up words, dinosaur books, books about teddy bears and adventures around the world.

Tim hadn’t been allowed to travel the world. Tim hadn’t been allowed a teddy bear. His parents had thought it would encourage undue attachment.

(It had been the same reason he’d never been given a pacifier.)

Miss Jazz had given him a knitted bunny. She’d said her dad had made it especially for him.

The toy’s name was Bunny and Tim remembered him being very soft.

She didn’t smile all the time, but smiles were rewards that were easy to earn. He finished his meal and she smiled. He finished an educational puzzle and she smiled. He was quiet all through her phone call and she smiled, and answered all his questions once she was done.

Jazzy had been the first person in his life who was there all the time. She’d kissed his forehead after the bath and kissed his scraped knees; she’d carried him in his arms when he was tired and sometimes even when he wasn’t. His parents had wanted him to be independent, proactive, and not clingy, but Jazzy had been someone who he could run to from his bed when he’d had nightmares and someone he could cuddle on her lap with when he’d cried.

She was gone when he was seven. He didn’t remember why. His parents had probably never told him, but still; he'd assumed he'd have found out why eventually.

Jazzy looked the same right now as she looked in Tim’s memories, although she was likely no longer a college student at a nannying gig. Her red hair was pulled into a high bun, her dress modest and conservative from her neck to her ankles. There was a backpack beside her foot. She was sitting, one leg crossed over the other, on the high-backed loveseat in the green sitting room.

She looked up when he came in.

Tim. Stopped in his tracks.

It didn’t matter. Jazzy—Miss Jasmine stood up as soon as she saw him, eyes alight with worry. Foggy memories were swimming to the forefront of Tim’s brain. He couldn’t move.

“Tim?” Ja—Miss Jasmine asked, teal eyes raking over his frame. Tim froze where he was. He didn’t move, wide-eyed and terrified for no reason at all when Miss Jasmine got closer to him, at a distance that was more appropriate for a conversation.

She stood there. Watching him. It felt like his mother had just come home from her trips with Dad, and a ghost of old terror wafted through him as he waited for her to decide he’d done something wrong. Her voice got softer. Her eyes got softer. Why was Tim feeling so wrong-footed?? It was only a former staff person!

“Tim?” her voice was so gentle. “I don’t know if you remember me. I’m—“

“M’s Jazz,” Tim croaked. Which. Wasn’t the level of formality he’d been going for, but better than Jazzy. He wasn’t a toddler anymore.

Miss Jasmine was so tall—honestly, was she taller than Bruce? She’d seemed insurmountable as a child; he hadn’t expected her height to truly be so statuesque as an adult.

(Or. Well. Almost an adult.)

She didn’t quite kneel down, but she did stoop lower, as if Tim was small and he needed to be on equal footing in order to have a serious conversation.

He could see all her freckles. Tim swallowed. It was too familiar. Everything about her was too familiar.

“You’re so big now,” Jazzy whispered, looking at his hair, his suit, his polished shoes. He didn’t feel it. “Oh, you’ve grown up so well.”

Thanks, Tim almost said. Something stopped him—something thick in his throat, to impassable to break through.

“I—“ he tried. He coughed. “Why…you… You’re here?”

Jazzy threw him an incredulous look, and then an incredibly wry one. “Well,” she drawled a little too primly, in the way that Alfred occasionally made obvious statements, “I’d think it obvious that when one’s parents have passed away, that those who care about you might come to check and see if you’re alright.”

Which. That didn’t make sense. Jazzy hadn’t come back for any other reason; she hadn’t come back for his mother’s funeral, nor when his father was injured publicly by a villain. Why start now?

“And,” Jazz added, seeing his visual confusion and distrust, “Your parents can’t exactly threaten me with a kidnapping charge for visiting you when they’re dead.” Pause. “Which I am sorry about. My condolences.”

Which. Whiplash. What a statement.

“Uh,” said Tim, who was rapidly losing control over the situation.

Jazzy stood again, and went back to her seat; she didn’t set herself down, though, as she only stooped to grab her backpack. “I am sorry for being unable to visit, although I really wanted to; you were at a very vulnerable age and had already moved into a class a year above you, and your parents should have been less hasty about replacing your main caretaker. The assassination attempts were unwarranted, but they did drive the point home that attempting contact was perhaps discouraged.”

“What,” said Tim. “Assassin what.”

“They were ninjas,” Jazzy offered, as if that was an answer. “Except the last one, which was a former marine. The point is that I do care about you, and wanted to ask if you had any idea where you’re going now that your parents are no longer…available guardians.”

Tim’s mouth opened. It closed.

Jazzy waited patiently.

“…How have you been?” Tim tried, resorting to a part of the script they hadn’t gone through yet.

Jazzy’s laugh was tired, but no less real. It was nothing like listening to his parents titter politely; he didn’t think Jazzy would even know how to fake a laugh. “Well, my brother told me that my former bosses had died, which was somewhat stressful. Otherwise, I’m pretty happy: I live with my brother and worked with him for the last few years. I was going to pursue medicine, but…well. The assassination attempts made it hard to interview for scholarships. I suppose that I could return to that now,” Jazzy mused, attention now elsewhere. She pulled the backpack off the floor and up into her grip. She opened it, and flipped through its contents. “How are you doing? I know that Wayne Manor fosters, but your parents were always rather…hands off. I thought the difference in levels of attention might be overwhelming.”

It was. Tim should be surprised how clearly she sees through him—

—But Jazzy used to watch him stim for almost a full hour after school, twisting Bunny’s arms back and forth until he could calm down. Seeing other people all day had been too much for him. Coming home from his parents’ parties had been similarly stressful.

She’d never been mad at him for it. She held him while he talked and stimmed and talked and talked and talked, and brushed his hair sometimes, or if it was very late and he was very young, helped him brush his teeth through all the medieval execution facts he could name.

“It is a lot to get used to,” Tim agreed quietly. He didn’t want to be ungrateful. He didn’t want to let on anyone about his plan to leave.

He had an out. The papers had already been filed; there was an actor waiting to play his uncle for a custody battle, ready for the fight.

Tim was ready to up and go. It was no hardship to leave all the good things here; anything beat making Bruce stick his fingers into Tim any deeper than they already were, compromising the dynamic they’d already established.

It was for the best.

“I can imagine,” Jazzy sympathized easily. “And I wanted to offer—well. I know there’s probably a lot of choices available to you, but my brother and I recently moved back to Gotham proper for the time being. He’s teaching astronomy courses at the university and I’m filing paperwork for Arkham patients. It’s not so privileged a home, but it’s quieter, and more central in town.”

…Tim’s heart skipped.

He. He couldn’t stop staring. Jazzy stared back at him, quiet and sure. Sure of what, Tim had no idea, but…

Why? Why would she want Tim? There was no way she would be able to get to his trust fund without his help, and he for sure knew better than to enable her ability to leech from him. The last time she’d known him, Tim had been a snot-nosed kid who cried all the time and couldn’t be normal for twenty consecutive minutes. His parents couldn’t even stand to be on the same hemisphere as him as a child. What appeal did this have for her?? What could having a teenager with severe baggage living in her house do for her?

And it’s not like there was any chance she knew he was Robin!

“Oh,” Jazzy suddenly interrupted. “I brought these for you, by the way. Your parents had tossed them out at various points; I’ve washed them since, of course.”

She handed him the backpack by the handle.

…Tim peeked inside.

On top was Bunny, still a washed-out faded sort of pink. He looked as fresh as he had the day when Tim’s parents had ”cleaned out” Tim’s nursery—in other words, a faded, a little gray, and slightly discolored from an old spaghetti stain. His button eyes were big and blue.

And beneath him were books that hadn’t passed his father’s muster as appropriately masculine reading material: The Velveteen Rabbit, with the cover a little scarred from a fierce attack of wet wipes. There’s A Monster at the End of This Book, with a goofy-looking Muppet on the cover, gold spine beat up beyond belief. Art Tim’s teacher at the time must have laminated and sent home; Tim’s dorky, crayon cat proved he would never make it as an artist, but attached to it was a photograph of a grinning boy with a bowl cut and a missing tooth.

Tim stared. There’d been purple marker on his hands and face. His grin looked…really bad, actually, like as if he was baring his teeth because he didn’t know how to smile. There was no formal grace there. Nothing to show the neighbors, nothing worth framing to put into the line of sight of the investors in the office.

Jazzy had kept it and brought it home with her. Jazzy had fished it out of the trash, and brought it with her to give back to him in Gotham.

It was crinkled like it’d been folded, over and over again. Further down in the bag was a crumpled certificate dedicated to “Timmy Drake, for: knowing a lot about octopi”, and a baby blanket Tim didn’t even remember. It had rocket ships on it. It looked as if someone had cut into it with scissors, although it had been obviously and brightly mended with red embroidery floss later on.

Jazzy had only been his nanny until Tim was seven. She had simply been gone one night, and Mom and Dad had been home for ten nights after without help before giving in and hiring Mrs. McIlvane and Mrs. Edith. Ms. Edith had never been so…permissive…with Tim as Jazzy had been.

Tim swallowed. He carefully put everything back into the backpack, unsure if he even wanted to keep it or not. It wasn’t like he could leave it here; he’d be gone, ideally, before the week was out. There was no point in taking it with him if he only planned to live with a stranger until he was eighteen.

“J…” Tim tried. He cut himself off before he could get too informal without prompting. “Miss Jasmine—“

“Just Jazz,” Jazzy corrected politely.

“—Why are you here?” Tim asked, ignoring how she’d technically already answered. He didn’t believe her. “What made my parents fire you?”

Jazzy’s expression turned…soft. Tim couldn’t look at her. Something horrible was welling with it, and he didn’t know how to cope.

“I’m here because I care about you,” Jazz repeated, and knelt beside him. She looked up into his face, and took his hand. Tim didn’t know why. He was practically an adult—he didn’t need this!

“And I was fired because your Mother overheard you calling me ‘Mommy’ on accident when you were tired. I suppose she was insulted, although I’d never know why; it’s not like she was ever home to bond with you in the first place.”

Tim’s throat closed. He missed his mom. He missed waiting up for his parents’ flight home, seeing their headlights outside the window, and knowing they’d bring home gifts from overseas. He missed using Mom’s perfume, and knowing he’d used more of the bottle sitting on her dressed than she ever had, but that it still smelled like her. He missed hearing his Dad telling all sorts of adventure stories and promises through the phone to be home for the holidays, even if Tim knew there was every chance he’d find some other way to spend the time back in Gotham.

And there was some small child in him who missed Jazzy, who hugged him and walked him to the library and made him soup from a can instead of fancy dinners and, who’d never needed to be waited for in the first place.

Tim looked at Jazzy’s round, freckled face.

He swallowed.

Tim moved out before the end of the week, as expected.

#dp x dc #Jazz fenton #tim drake #that one time Tim specifically hired a fake uncle so that Bruce couldn't adopt him #free to a good home #Jack Fenton knits btw #I'm not going to continue this but i thought it was a cool premise and needed its time. Have fun with it if you want to!#this is dedicated to all the fulltime nannies at the library who are fully just college girls raising babies #dpxdc #dcxdp #Jazz said is anyone going to raise this baby and was targeted by ninjas for it #I don't have any future plans BUT there is a moment where Dick tries to sneak into her apt to 'check it out' and she fully Gets Him with a #TBI and a Fenton CreepStickTM #also. parents who try to shape their kids by denying them every form of human comfort and access to their interests. You're dead to me #also also also I'm still a Tim Drake Autistic truther #not NOT inspired by the Say Uncle by Megarakles. This one's for you fellow fans #also. if he goes with her. He gets parented for the first time ever and it Sucks Ass lol.#faer fic

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formosusiniquis · 1 year

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When Mike Wheeler, red faced and still faintly tear stained, asks him how he knew he liked both Steve doesn’t know how to tell him it was his sister.

Before Nancy Wheeler it had only been boys. Before Nancy Wheeler Steve had been sure he was gay and knew well enough to keep it to himself; dating around enough to earn himself a protective reputation. Before Nancy Wheeler there’d been Marcus Summers, from the baseball team, during freshman year. Steve had gone to every game, and had been forced to make up excuses about schoolwork and his other commitments when asked why he hadn’t tried out for himself. Before Nancy Wheeler there’d been Tommy Hagan. The summer between seventh and eighth grade had been very kind to Tommy, he was sunkissed and boy next door sweet, Steve had wanted to hold his hand and count the freckles across the bridge of his nose.

Before Nancy Wheeler there’d been his first love, a boy who only visited one summer, the year Steve turned ten. His name had changed every time they hung out but he’d favored E’s. Eli, Emmett, Elliott, Eric, Excalibur, Excelsior, and once for about an hour Wayne. His hair brushed his chin in pretty brown curls and his big brown eyes were always bright with excitement. He always got storm off mad when any of the other boys they’d played with that summer said he was acting like a girl, E would run off to the woods and Steve would always follow. E always came up with the best games anyway, he didn’t like playing soccer or HORSE or anything else with rules that couldn’t be bent; he preferred imagination games where they were knights or wizards. He didn’t laugh when Steve said he always liked playing house, but never wanted to be the dad because why would he want to be someone who never wanted to spend any time with his kids. E who, while insisting on being called Samwise all day, was his first kiss.

Cause he knows what Mike wants to hear. He’s seen the way Mike and Will have danced around each other since the last portal closed. He’s heard the things Mike has said to and about Will. He’s heard all about the week that Will was in the Upside Down. He’s heard all about the summer of ‘85. He’s heard all about the final off again that seems to officially mark the end of Mike and El romantically. He knows that Mike wants him to say that he’d never even thought about boys before he met Eddie. That there’s just something special about Eddie that makes him want to give up his lady killing ways. That Eddie was different. That it was okay that he was having these scary new thoughts, maybe Will was just an exception.

And Steve doesn’t know how to have that conversation. When he realized he liked both it was a relief, that maybe he could have something normal and wouldn't have to spend his life lying or hiding.

But Eddie was different. Eddie was special. Eddie was probably it for Steve which is scary in a different way that he’s not ready to touch yet -- not when it’s only been three months.

There’s never been another girl since Nancy Wheeler, not really

There will never be another boy after Eddie Munson.

So he tries to help, as best he can. It’s easier with Eddie there, not quite dozing against his shoulder -- the kid’s emergencies always seem to come so late at night these days. “When I was ten, there was a boy whose name kept changing who decided prince charming should get to kiss his faithful knight. And when I was sixteen, your sister-”

Mike’s goodwill diminishes quickly as his sister gets introduced to the conversation.

“Stevie,” Eddie says. It’s not an admonishment for bringing up Nancy. It’s awestruck and watery. “You remember that?”

“Of course I remember the first boy I ever loved," that word catches up with him a second later. Remember.

Cause there's Eddie with his riot of brown curls and his Bambi eyes. Eddie, who has explained why soft feminine words chafe against his skin leaving him itchy and anxious. Eddie, who has an Uncle in Hawkins. Eddie who moved to town the summer before he entered high school with a buzzed head and his mother's last name. Eddie who finally settled into an E he liked best.

"Wheeler, here's a tip from me to you," Eddie says, his advice is always better received than Steve's anyway, "if you have to ask you probably already know."

"Straight people don't really spend much time wondering if they aren't really straight," Steve agrees.

They don't rush Mike out the door, a crisis is a crisis and even in the wake of new discoveries Mike deserves to be heard out. Deserves a chance to cry and rage and feel those emotions someplace safe from his Reaganite father -- just as much as Will deserves to have someone who knows what they want come to him, deserves better than experimentation.

They cross the bridge from late into early by the time Mike sets off. The sun is creeping up over the horizon and Mike looks solid, certain; the dawn hints at the man he is growing up to be. Though every instinct of Steve's begs him to drive the kid home, Eddie's soft hand lingering at his hip holds him fast. They wave instead, encouraging Mike to go home and to bed before he does anything; knowing his front bike tire is already pointed toward the Byers-Hopper place.

"The first boy you ever loved, huh, Stevie?" Eddie teases before the door has even managed to click shut.

"And the last, I'm hoping, if I play my cards right."

"You were always pretty good at that. You were the only person that summer who called me by my name, except Wayne."

"It was your name." He knows that's too simple. Knows how hard Eddie has had it, continues to have it. But that summer it had been that simple, Eddie trying on names like shirts each one fitting until they didn't. "For what it's worth, I like Eddie a lot more than Excalibur."

"Oh fuck off, I was going through a fantasy knight phase. Which I know you remember."

"Right a phase, and how much longer is this fantasy 'phase' going to last?"

They're the kind of tired that makes you feel drunk, when Eddie tackles Steve and sends them both to the floor and to giggles. Eddie might not have been his bi awakening, but Steve is pretty fine with him being his everything else.

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #trans eddie munson #implied byler #steddie fic #my fic #i do worry that sometimes i come across as a nancy hater #which i cant emphasize enough is not the case #nancy is a complicated character and i love her and she and steve are not good for each other #also eddie trying on wayne because wayne was the first adult he told that he wasnt a girl and who handled it well #wayne at the breakfast table like okay then what is your name if its not [redacted] and eddie does not have an answer yet #so wayne says well just tell me when you get up what youre going by #so he decides while playing that day that its wayne #and that lasts exactly as long as it takes for steve to call him that before hes like nope thats weird #eddie is short for edmund but also short for eddie the head #eddie contains multitudes

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maybankswhore · 9 months

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𝐃𝐄𝐋𝐈𝐂𝐀𝐓𝐄 ’ part one.

SUMMARY: jj finds himself crushing on kildare’s good girl.

PAIRING: bad boy!jj maybank x good girl!reader ( basically kook!reader. )

WARNINGS: smoking , cursing , thoughts of ‘corruption’ & violence.

listened to ‘born to die’ by lana del rey & ‘delicate’ by taylor swift & this plot was born! i’m obsessed with bad boy jj x good girl reader trope & i really liked the nsfw headcanon i did a few months back. this is one of my favorite’s i’ve ever writtenz

Your voice was sickly sweet in his ears everytime he heard it. Your words rolling off your tongue smoothly , slipping into his brain and making it go into a fog— like the highest he’d ever get. He always wanted more , listening in absentmindedly during class when you gossiped with your friends. He loved it when you laughed at something , the way your eyes would wrinkle and your hand would cover your mouth because you were embarrassed by how loud your laughter would carry. You shined in his eyes , always floating around like some god damn angel.

You were painfully innocent. Kind and friendly to everyone you came across. It was the type of innocent that all the boys adored , and all the girls found endearing. You wouldn’t hurt a fly. Everyone who knew you either loved you or hated you— the latter always one in a million. It was hard not to like you , because of your habit to cheer up even the angriest of people around you. You were a simple girl , always walking around in your little sundresses waving at everyone and wishing them a good day.

JJ adored that part of you. He found it cute the way you were so naively oblivious. When the boys would shower you in gifts and compliments , the thought of an ulterior motive never crossed your mind. You’d simply thank them with a smile , promising to do something sweet in return. It had gotten to the point that people had stopped trying because no matter what anyone did— you treated everyone the same. You were friendly and kind to everyone , no matter how hard they tried to be special or different in your eyes it just went right over your head and you didn’t give it a second thought.

Like today , in the cafeteria , JJ watched you from across the room with his hands in his pockets leaning back in his seat. His toothpick on the side of his lip hanging as he lightly chewed it. JJ Maybank out of all people— the boy who was the complete opposite of you had been so hellbent on you. Nobody really understood it but at the same time , they were all too afraid to speak up to him about it. He was violent and mean , dismissive to girls like you. The Kooky , preppy kind. But it hadn’t mattered to him because you were his only exception.

Your friend whispered in your ear , something JJ could only guess was something about him. He watched as you flushed , not being able to stop the smirk on his face as you swatted her away with the shake of your head. With eyelashes fluttering , you looked up at him , pursing your lips. He nodded your way as a sign of approval— a hello all in the same. Your lips pressed into a smile at that , wiggling your fingers lightly before adverting your attention back to your friends. The way the girls around you went to whispering in your ear caused something to swell in JJ’s chest , hoping you’d finally manage to let him have a conversation with him. For everyone else he was hard and mean— but for you , he was soft.

“You need to give up this Y/N fantasy already.” Pope interrupted JJ’s thoughts by kicking his foot from underneath the table and earned an eye roll in return. “I’m serious. You’re acting creepy.”

John B couldn’t contain his laughter , nodding his head in agreement. “Yeah , dude. I thought you’d be over it by now but it’s been like a month and a half and all you do is stare at her.”

JJ sighed in irritation. His friends constantly gave him shit about him. Not that he could blame them. If it hadn’t have been him , he’d be giving either them the same amount of trouble over it.

Any other girl would’ve been fucked and discarded by now. He never focused on one girl for more than a week , let alone over a month. But there was something about you that always made him curious , wondering how innocent you truly were. You were beautiful , prim and proper. His crush had turned into something else inside of him— obsession at best. The way you hadn’t looked at anyone else , staying to yourself and your group of friends. The girl everyone wanted but couldn’t have. There was just something about you that caused his body to react a certain way it didn’t with the others he’d been with. Just the sound of your voice made his heart race , the little looks you’d give him sending shivers down his spine.

“Shut the fuck up and mind your business , alright?” JJ grumbled out.

“Look JJ , be realistic about this—” Pope started.

“Y/N’s a kook , okay? And not just any Kook. Like practically the Kook princess. I’m pretty sure she has Sarah Cameron beat by a long shot.” John B continued listening on the reasons. “You can’t stand Kooks and she’s like—” he glanced over at you , in your pretty pink sundress. “She’s like nice and you’re not all that nice.”

JJ narrowed his eyes at John B. “I’m nice to you.”

Pope chuckled. “Yeah barely. And that’s because you have to be or you’d be homeless. I have Chem with Y/N and John B’s right. She is pretty nice. You don’t like girls like that.” He thought back to all the girls JJ had been interested in the past and none had been like you. There were all same , a bit snippy and wild. Partying at the bonfires , sleeping with him the same breath. You weren’t like that and he’d rather be honest with JJ then have his friend hurt the good in you , regardless if you were a Kook or not.

“You guys need to just mind your fucking business.” JJ spat them , clearly fed up. They should’ve known better than to push at him— his anger always got the best of him in any situation. His chair scraped loudly as he stood up and yanked his bag from off the floor.

“JJ , c’mon man—” John B called after him , but it was too late. The only reminder that the blonde had even been in the cafeteria was the doors swinging closed behind him.

The commotion caught your attention. You watched as JJ briskly walked away from his friends , an unreadable expression painted on his face. Whatever conversation your friends were in now seemed like white noise to you , knawing on your bottom lip nervously.

It was JJ Maybank. The boy all the girls talked about in the locker room. Some of things you had heard , though , you had wished you hadn’t. You felt pervy when you listened in on certain conversations about how he was in bed , rough and fucking girls like a man scorned one too many times. And you knew he looked at you. Your friends would always gush about it , saying how lucky you were to have had his attention this long. Your parents knew of him , too. Nothing good ever leaving their mouth when a conversation involved him— your dad complaining about his trouble–maker lifestyle.

The inward war in your head seemed to come to a close when your body reacted before your brain did. Looking towards your friends you flashed them an innocent smile , claiming that you didn’t feel good and wanted to use the bathroom before the period ended. Brushing off their concerns , you grabbed your own schoolbag before rushing towards the door JJ had once walked through. Your eyes flickered around the halls to find him , only barely catching sight of his blonde hair rounding the corner.

Taking in a deep breath , you took it amongst yourself to follow behind him— your legs moving before your brain could think it through. “JJ!” His name fell off your lips easily , like it was something you had practiced in the mirror for days. The way his movements immediately stopped at the sound of you , looking over his shoulder to make sure it really was you. Starting to feel nervous , you swallowed anxiously while tightening your grip on the backpack straps. “I uh— well I saw—” you flushed red as you stammered.

His eyes on you this close , just a mere foot away seemed to cause more of a reaction than you thought. Beautiful even up close , the way his lashes dusted the apple of his cheeks seemed to entrance you more up close. He still held that cocky smirk though , pleased to see you had come looking after him. His reaction was practically stoic besides that , but you weren’t inside of his chest feeling the way his heart had started beating rapidly. “Yeah?” JJ drawled out , his voice teasing.

You cleared your throat as you tried speaking again. “Well you left in a hurry and I was just making sure you were okay.” You finally managed to breathe out trying your best to ignore how shaky it sounded.

You weren’t used to things like this. Feeling so worked up over a boy. Your whole demeanor had seemed to shift just slightly , and it pleased JJ to see. “Sweet little Y/N , like always.” He hummed.

You blushed at that. The name coming from JJ made your pulse quicken. “Yeah. . .” you managed to breathe. “I–I can go. I just , you know—”

“Were worried.” JJ finished for you , finding humor in the way you stumbled over words.

“Yeah.”

Silence seemed to begin to suffocate the two of you. Suddenly you felt warm , almost sweating with JJ’s eyes on you. Biting the inside of your cheek , your nervous habit , you tucked your hair away from your face. “I have to get back to my friends—”

“Okay.” Was all he said , still looking at you. Flushing red , you nodded awkwardly and slowly started moving to turn away. You silently cursed at yourself as you began to feel embarrassed.

Before you disappeared around the corner , you heard JJ’s voice once more. “Come to the Boneyard tonight. We’re throwing a party. Come.”

You hadn’t bothered turning back or even sparing another look. His words rang around in your head— the way he looked at you burned in the front of your memory , replaying the color of his eyes.

Parties weren’t your thing and they never really had been. Your parents didn’t like them much and the crowds always seemed to overwhelm you. And the idea of being at the Boneyard of all places. . .

But something in the way that your stomach bubbled and your heart hammered— told you to raid your closet and find something pretty to wear.

The night had come faster than neither you or JJ would’ve liked it to. You were a bundle of nerves. You had reapplied your lip gloss for what seemed like the hundredth time. And JJ just as equally on edge wondering if you’d even show up. As cool as he tried to play it , he knew it wasn’t cool. He wanted you there , to sneak you off somewhere to have you all to himself the way he had fantasized about. Too afraid of the chance of you not bothering to show up— though he couldn’t be too mad at you with the way he had invited you ( he wasn’t even sure you heard him ) , he hadn’t told the Pogue’s about it.

Wanting to play it safe rather than sorry.

Little did he know how determined you actually were. You picked out the prettiest thing in your closet , wanting to look your best. Paying attention to the littlest details , butterflies swirling in your stomach at the anticipation to see him. It seemed like a long time coming , anyway. Right? Your friends had noticed it before you had and at first , you weren’t sure to even bother. But JJ— JJ was different than all those other boys that tried it on with you. That’s all they seemed to be , boys. But JJ was more than that. You could tell in the way he carried himself. How closed off he was. There were things about him that nobody knew , things he had kept hidden about himself. Short sentences and broading shoulders , you knew there was more to him and your eagerness to know was foreign to you.

You had debated on calling one of your girlfriends to go with you. That’s what you had told your parents anyway. You knew they’d be furious with you if they found out where you really going , so you shrugged it off as just a get together with your girlfriends. Your excuse also allowed you to be out later than your normal curfew. Lying wasn’t something you liked to do and so you considered calling your friend— Jessie , to go with you but you didn’t feel like explaining it to her or anyone else for that matter.

Your mother allowed you to take her car and as you drove off towards The Cut , you did feel a little bad for your lie. The whole thing made you feel guilty and considered turning around and blowing the whole thing off , but the excitement you felt of seeing JJ again triumphed it.

You were a mess when you pulled up. You inwardly cursed yourself for the position you were in now. There was no way of finding JJ other than scouting through the crowds for the familiar color of his dirty blonde hair , hoping it wasn’t covered with a hat. Being by yourself made you feel open , and you fidgeted with your hands as you walked towards where everyone was— the sound of music booming on the beach helping you know where to go.

The moonlight illuminated your path just enough for your feet to hit the sand , the fire doing the rest. Your eyes flickered around to see any familiar face , but there was so many people. Red solo cups everywhere , the smell of weed making your nose crinkle. It wasn’t until now that you realized how in over your head you were.

Taking a deep breath , you gained the courage to move. You smiled at the people who glanced your way with wide eyes , not expecting to see you there. Sheepishly you waved , hoping to find someone you had at least more than one conversation with.

It took a bit of searching until you finally found someone. Pope Heyward.

He was JJ’s friend and the two of you had Chem together. Once even being partnered together. Taking a breath of relief , you politely pushed your way towards him , chewing harshly on the inside of your cheek. He hadn’t noticed you— not until you nervously approached in front of him.

When his eyes landed on you , his face went pale. He had to blink a couple of times to make sure it was really you. “Y/N?” He said your name confused , glancing around nervously. “What’re you doing here?” Pope asked but he had feeling he knew.

Pulling at your fingers you shrugged and tried to look around him to see if JJ was anywhere near. “It’s me.” You laughed lightly , flushing. “JJ invited me.”

“Oh!” He chuckled with eyes flickering around crazily. You cringed to yourself embarrassed and when Pope noticed , he quickly spoke again. “Not like a bad oh! Just a surprised oh. I didn’t think you came to things like this.” Pope explained himself.

“It’s okay , trust me I know.” You brushed it off to ease the tension between the two of you now , hoping it’d disperse. “But um— I don’t know.” You shrugged. “Wanted to see what it was like s’all.”

Pope nodded in understanding and wrapped an arm around your shoulders loosely , looking around again. He could tell you felt uncomfortable and wanted to make you feel a little better before finding JJ. “Did you come by yourself?” He asked , a bit of concern lacing his voice.

“Um , yeah.” You grimaced at how small you sounded but the look on Pope’s face made you feel a little better. “I figured I’d already know some people here and look— I found you.” You offered a grin , to which Pope gratefully returned.

“I’m sure JJ’ll be happy you’re here.” He assured you with a confirming nod.

He helped guide you through the mess of people towards the Kegs , and you spotted him. Your stomach fluttering at the sight of him. He wore his usual white t–shirt though it was a little more tighter than you were used to seeing. It hugged his biceps well and the sight made your legs feel like jelly. A backwards hat on top of his head. He was laughing giddily with John B and a couple other friends , his arm around his friend shoulders.

John B spotted the two of you first. His eyes widened just like Pope’s had and he quickly nudged JJ’s shoulder obnoxiously , pointing towards the two of you.

When JJ looked over and saw you , he couldn’t help but the accomplished smile that took over his face. His eyes scanned you slowly , not bothering to hide how he was checking you out. You were still wearing his favorite— a pretty little sundress , in the color light pink this time. He almost groaned at the sight. The night sky did you justice , drawing attention to the highlights of your face , the plumpness of your lips. He found you to be the most beautiful he had ever seen you.

“There’s no fucking way.” John B mumbled as you approached them obviously anxious as you smiled.

“What’d you know.” JJ spoke up , grinning at you. “The Kook Princess actually came.”

The name he used for you made you flush but you roll your eyes all the same. Trying to play it cool , you simply shrugged and looked around. “Thought I’d see what the hype was all about s’all.”

JJ threw his head back in laughter. Knowingly. “Of course you did. Well—” he threw his arms up and gestured towards the atmosphere. “Thoughts?”

“It’s alright.” You hummed and turned your attention towards John B who was watching the interaction with his jaw slacked open. “Hi John B.”

“H–Hey.” He stuttered in surprised. “I can’t even lie right now I’m fucking shocked to see you here , Y/N.”

Closing your eyes in a bit of frustration , you nodded slowly. “So I’ve been told. Twice.” You emphasized the word.

“Right.”

Rocking back and forth on your heels , JJ dropped his arm and walked closer to you. You looked up at him through fluttering lashes coated in mascara , the blush you wore drawing attention the way the smell of his cologne made you flush. “Want a drink?”

Looking back at the keg , you shook your head timidly. “Any water?”

“Inside.” JJ told you. Without wanting he reached down and grabbed your hand , pulling you towards you and away from Pope. “Catch you guys later.” He said , pulling you in the direction of the Chateau.

His hand in yours was like salt and ice. It burned so bad but in a way that made your breathing hitch and mind become hazy. You liked it. Ring clad fingers squeezing your own.

“I didn’t think you’d come.” JJ admitted as the two of you walked in the kitchen. You leaned against the counter and watched as he moved towards the fridge. “Didn’t think it was your scene.”

“It’s not.” You quipped. The smirk on his face making you squirm. “Like I said , I was curious.”

JJ chuckled and walked towards you again. Just like in the hallway , his attention attentively on you as you shifted foot to foot. Handing you the water bottle you reached for it , fingers grazing his making you gasp lightly. Blushing you cleared your throat. “Cold.”

Your reaction to him made his chest feel big. The way you were squirming around trying to act all confident when JJ knew you weren’t. Humming to himself , he stepped towards you closer. One arm leaning on the counter your back was using , the other reaching out to touch your necklace. Your breathing hitched once again , caught in your throat as his hands danced on your skin lightly. Barely touching but just enough to make you feel it.

“You look pretty.”

The sentence was simple and sweet. Something you had heard a thousand times before. But hearing it come from JJ made you feel different. It made your stomach bubble and the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. You hadn’t even noticed how hot the tips of your ears were starting to get. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

You almost laughed how the situation mirrored the one from this morning. Cocking your head to the side , you decided to speak up again. “Do you like me?” The question slipped before you meant it to and you instantly regretted it. JJ’s face didn’t falter though , instead his face only looked amused.

“Why do you ask?” He was teasing you now. His tone of voice showing it off.

“Well— well because! My friends always catch you looking at me in school and sometimes when I’m in the library it looks like you’re going to talk to me but you never do and— and you invited me here.” You squeezed your eyes shut in pure embarrassment. Your cheeks were surely flamed red and you were positive you sounded like an idiot.

JJ softened at your expression.

“You’re right.” He started watching as you slowly peeled your eyes open to look at him. “I do all those things and I do it because—” pausing he tried to figure out what to say. JJ did like you , alot. But you were fragile and delicate , the prettiest flower out of a whole entire garden. And as much as he wanted to pick you and keep you forever , he couldn’t stand to be the reason you wilted. For the first time that JJ could ever remember , he didn’t want to hurt you. “I like you , Y/N—” his words barely above a whisper.

“But. . .” you guessed.

“But you’re you and I’m me. You’re everything good in this world and I don’t want to go corrupt that.” Selfishly he did , but he wouldn’t— couldn’t , be selfish when it came to you.

You paused to look at him. Searching his face for any sign of anything other than him being truthful. You were quick to find that there was nothing there. He was being genuine and your heart lurched at that , speeding up like crazy. You knew it was insane. The idea of you and him. You knew he was violent , and a player and just the type of boy your mother always told you to stay away from.

Shamefully , you weren’t strong enough to walk despite all the facts spelled out in front of you.

“I like you , too.” You said carefully. Studying him as you spoke. He hung on to every word , absentmindedly leaning in a bit closer each second. “That’s enough for now.”

Your words made his eyes flutter closed. His forehead leaned against yours as you felt every sense in your body overload. Goosebumps rising.

“For now.” He let out breathily.

It would be enough. For now.

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luxaofhesperides · 5 months

Note

For the ghostlights drabbles: “Say my name” with a favor being called in?

Duke had saved Phantom years ago, back when he was just out of high school and working to take down a branch of the government that was kidnapping and experimenting on people, targeting magic users and metas. Phantom had been working on his own to take them down, and they met in the middle, trashing a lab and freeing as many people as they could.

They had managed to shoot his back, knocking him down and making him bleed a glowing green. Phantom couldn’t move, protecting two kids with his body, and Duke couldn’t reach them in time before they were taken away by another swarm of agents.

He was able to go after them in time, free Phantom and the kids, and evacuated the victims before Phantom rained hell down on the facility.

At the end, standing in the background as they watched paramedics treat the victims and take them towards the nearest hospitals, Phantom had turned towards him and thanked him.

Or rather, he thanked the Signal and offered him a bracelet with a rounded orb of ice, glowing faintly in the dark. If you ever need me, he had said, Hold this, and call me name.

Phantom vanished once the last of the victims were transported to a safer location, and Duke hadn’t seen him since.

He’s kept up with news about Phantom as best he can, but from what he could tell, Phantom is based primarily in Amity Park, Illinois, and the town is fiercely protective of their hero. News rarely leaks out of there, and with them running on their own servers and independent internet, it was nearly impossible to get in from the outside.

Phantom remained a curious and distant figure in Duke’s life. He holds onto the bracelet still, guarding it carefully and sometimes running his fingers over the ice that never melts.

But he doesn’t call in that favor. He’s never to.

At least, not until now.

Sucking in a breath, Duke prepares himself and holds the orb of ice in the palm of his hand. He’s in civies, unable to hide his identity for this, and closes his eyes. “Phantom,” he says.

For a moment, nothing happens. Duke blinks his eyes open and frowns, mind already forming new plans to contact Phantom. Then the ice goes bitingly cold, almost painful, and the temperature in the room drops dramatically. The ice lifts up from his hand, floating in the air, then cracks open.

White-blue light spills out of it, growing brighter as it seems to swallow up the room entirely. Duke hurries to back up, an arm thrown up to protect his eyes. His breath mists out before him and he shivers as the sound of ice cracking fills the room.

And then, just as suddenly as it started, the light disappears and the cold fades away like a bad dream.

Slowly, Duke lowers his arm and looks up at Phantom, floating in the middle of his living room with a crown made of ice, engulfed in blue fire, hovers above his head. He looks older, more regal, holding his head high.

He regards Duke carefully for a minute, then tilts his head and says, “Signal?”

“Yeah, it’s me. Man, I’m so glad you came.”

“You… need help with something? You’re calling in your favor now, right?”

Duke nods. He understands Phantom’s confusion; being in the hero business means that favors like these tend to be used only during the most hopeless of times, when the world is close to ending, when the chances of getting out of a situation alive is close to impossible. It’s exactly the kind of thing Duke was expecting to call Phantom in for.

Not the kid sleeping on his couch.

“You’re a ghost, yeah?”

Phantom blinks at him. “Ghost king, now. Why?”

“Well…” Duke rubs the back of his neck, nervously. “I didn’t really know who else to call, and I can’t do this on my own since I’m not a ghost. But this kid got attached to me and won’t leave, so now I’m taking care of her and I have no idea what I’m doing.”

“I don’t know why you think I have any experience with kids but—”

“She’s a ghost.”

Phantom stops short. “Ah. I see.” He floats down until his feet touch the floor, and then he’s standing like any other person. “Where…?”

Duke looks past Phantom’s shoulder, and Phantom turns to follow his gaze. Chelsea, the ghost girl, looks to be around nine years old and is fast asleep on the couch, curled up under Duke’s softest blanket.

“Signal,” Phantom says quietly, “What, exactly, is the favor you need from me?”

“You can say no,” Duke starts. “I get that this is a lot. But I need help raising her. And since you’re a ghost, I figured you could help me learn about the ghostly side of things. You don’t have to raise her with me or anything! Just… I would appreciate any help you’re willing to give me.”

Phantom doesn’t say no. He doesn’t say anything. He just stares down at Chelsea, an unreadable expression on his face.

On the couch. Chelsea shifts in her sleep, brows furrowing as she makes a choked noise in the back of her throat.

Moving on autopilot after so many nights of this routine, Duke kneels next to the couch, fishing one of her hands from beneath the blanket. He gives it a few reassuring squeezes, keeping it a slow rhythm to pull her gently from her nightmare. She settles down in just a minute, brow smoothing out as she continues to sleep.

The silence grows and Duke is all too aware that his heart is the only one beating.

He doesn’t hear Phantom move. Doesn’t realize he’s right next to him until he sees Phantom’s hand reach out towards Chelsea. When Duke looks, Phantom is sitting on the floor next to Duke, looking at Chelsea with something soft and devastated in his eyes. His hand hovers about her head for a long moment, then slowly lowers to rest on her head.

The touch looks gently, barely putting any pressure on her head, but it’s enough to make Chelsea’s eyes snap open, suddenly wide awake. She stares at Phantom with wide eyes, then sits up and looks between him and Duke.

“Who are you?” she asks in a small voice that makes Duke want to stand against the world to keep her safe.

Phantom smiles. It’s casual and charming and makes him look like anyone else, as if he’s not a powerful king from a realm unreachable to humans. “Hi there,” he says, “I’m Danny. I’m a ghost like you. Signal called me and asked me to meet you.”

The Ghost King is good with kids. Who would have thought?

Chelsea looks at him for confirmation and only relaxes when he nods. “I’m Chelsea. What do you mean ghost? I’m not dead.”

Both he and Phantom tense, carefully keeping their expressions neutral. She hasn’t told him much at all, just that her parents were gone and forgot her and she got hurt, so she wanted to stay with ‘Mr. Signal’ because he’s a hero and heroes keep people safe and he was the only one who was Black like her. Duke hadn’t had the heart to say no, and began searching for her family, only to find that her parents had fled the state, and likely the country, after killing their only child through neglect and a dangerous environment.

It was then that he realized that her powers were not because she was a meta, but because she was ghost.

It still hurts to realize how young she is, how much of her life had been stolen from her in an instant. Duke hadn’t been brave enough to broach the topic with her, instead choosing to let her grow comfortable in his presence, get them both settled into a routine now that he was her primary guardian.

“I know it sounds scary,” Phantom says, “And you may not want to believe me, but it’s true. I’m sorry that you died so young, but that just means you get to hang out with me and other ghosts from now on!”

Chelsea crosses her arms over her chest and glares at him. “I am not dead,” she says.

“Cici, I’m sorry to say this, but you are,” Duke cuts in. “That’s why I called… Danny. You have new powers as a ghost, and he can help you get used to them.”

“I’m not dead!” she says again.

“Kid,” Phantom begins, but Chelsea shakes her head hard and hops off the couch.

“I’m not lying! Watch, I’ll prove it to you!” She closes her eyes and scrunches up her nose, concentrating. Her hands curl into tight fists by her sides, and the glow around her grows dim. Two faint, stuttering rings of light appear around her waist. They flicker and wobble in the air, as if weak and uncertain of their own existence, then split apart, one moving up towards her head while the other falls to her feet.

Beside him, Phantom sucks in a sharp breath, but Duke can’t turn to see what’s wrong when he’s trying to take in the sight of Chelsea suddenly full of vibrant color, looking more solid that he’s ever seen her, very much alive.

“See?” she says proudly, lifting her arms and doing a spin to show off her right she was. “I told you I’m not dead!”

“No, you’re not,” Phantom agrees, sounding shell-shocked. When Duke is finally able to look away from Chelsea to check on him, he looks awed. There’s the smallest smile on his face, just the slightest upturn of his lips, but it makes him look softer.

Duke turns his attention back to Chelsea before he can be caught staring. “Cici, can you come here for a second?”

She goes before he’s finished speaking, crossing the space between them in a single jump, then grins up at him. Her hair is a bit of a mess, the two buns he managed to get her hair into falling askew. He makes a note to visit the old aunties in the Narrows later to ask them to teach him how to do hair. For now, he holds out a hand and Chelsea drops an arm into it.

It seems to good to be true, having her be alive, but her pulse is steady and strong when he presses his thumb against the inside of her wrist.

“Well,” he says, leaning back and letting go of her arm. “You certainly proved us wrong.”

Chelsea doesn’t have much time to look smug before PHantom quietly says, “You’re like me.”

“What?”

“You’re like me,” he tells Chelsea. “A halfa.”

She tilts her head to one side. “What’s that?”

“Someone who is half human and half ghost. Both dead and alive.”

Duke blinks, taking in the words, then turns to face Phantom so quickly he’s worried he might give himself whiplash. Halfa, he said. Like me, he said.

And sure enough, two rings of light, bright and strong, appear around Phantom’s waist before splitting in half, moving over his entire body.

Gone is the Ghost King, all powerful and adorned in dark clothing with a crown of ice above his head. In his place is a guy who looks to be Duke’s age, eyes a deep blue and his black hair messy, feet set solidly on the floor. He looks completely normal, completely human, and no longer an impossibility.

“You still up for learning how to use all your new powers?” Phantom asks.

Chelsea grins. “Yeah!” And then, with a quick flick of her eyes going from Phantom to Duke that he almost misses, very innocently asks, “Are you going to stay with us then?”

“I… don’t know?” Phantom looks to Duke for an answer.

Already, Duke can see this going two ways. The correct way forward, the normal one, has Phantom popping in every so often, taking Chelsea out for a few hours to work on training her and her powers. It’s easy and routine and they can keep their boundaries uncrossed and be professional.

The other path is what Duke wants most that he shouldn’t impose onto the literal Ghost King. He could have Phantom living with them while he’s on Earth and out of Amity Park, having a place at the table, a section in the closet for his own clothes, a quietly domestic night together while Chelsea sleeps where they can get to know each other more, get to know each other outside of news reports and texts on a screen.

“You can stay with us if you want,” Duke offers, casually, “It might keep my apartment safe from her powers acting up on their own again.”

“Are you sure? I could always just fly in on the weekends or something.”

“I’d appreciate having you around. So you can help Cici.”

“If you don’t mind,” Phantom says, looking away. Like this, fully alive with a beating heart, it’s easy to see the blush steal away across his cheeks.

“I don’t.”

“I don’t either!” Chelsea pops in, looking far too gleeful by their awkward conversation.

Duke can’t help but laugh, feeling lighter than he had in ages. The relief of knowing that Chelsea is alive, for the most part at least, eases the guilt of thinking he had been too late to save her, that there was no chance she could have made it out and had a future, makes him feel weak. All the exhaustion of the past few weeks hits him all at once and he wants nothing more than to collapse in bed and sleep for twelve hours.

“Alright, squirt,” he says, reaching out to pat her head. “It’s late. We can talk more in the morning, so go to bed. In your actual bed this time, not on the couch.”

Chelsea stands up taller, ready to argue, but Duke gives her a Look™ and she quickly shuts her mouth, nods, and drags her feet back to her room (the former guestroom he can never give any of the other Waynes ever again, once they find out about her).

Sighing, Duke collapses onto the couch once he hears the door shut behind her. Phantom joins him after a few seconds, sitting tentatively on the edge of the couch. The cushion moves beneath his weight, another reminder of how solid and alive he is right not.

Duke wants to touch him, to reach out and feel for himself his pulse, the warmth of his body, his chest lifting with each breath.

He doesn’t move. He stays where he is, hands carefully still, and tries to think past the dizzying thoughts of she’s still alive, I’m not too late, he’s still here, he’s alive.

“Rough week?” Phantom asks, voice purposefully light.

“Something like that.”

“You should get some sleep too.”

“I don’t think I can. Not after everything. My mind’s too loud right now.”

Phantom shifts closer to him, hesitant in a way that Duke has never seen before in him, and asks, “Want me to stay with you until you mind quiets down some?”

“Yeah. I’d like that. Thanks, Phantom.”

“You know, if I’m going to be around so often as Chelsea’s halfa mentor, then you might as well call me Danny.”

Truth be told, Duke didn’t think that was his real name. He’s glad to know it’s not.

“Then call me Duke.”

“...Are you sure? You could still hide your identity from me.”

“Nah, I trust you. A name for a name, yeah?”

Danny smiles. “Duke,” he says, testing out the name, and it’s never sounded better than when it falls from Danny’s mouth.

“Danny,” Duke returns. He belatedly realizes that they’ve leaned towards each other, drawn together like gravity, stuck in each other’s orbit. It feels natural. It feels like this is where they’re meant to be.

Maybe he should be more cautious. They’ve only meant once before, after all. But he’s read all he could on Phantom and has seen how Amity Park loves him. He’s stressed and exhausted and trying to figure out how to look after a half-ghost child that’s already been dealt a bad hand in life. He should be keeping Phantom at a distance, watching over him carefully to ensure he isn’t a threat to Chelsea.

But Duke saw how he acted with Chelsea, so gentle and understanding and kind. That’s all he needed to see.

He may not know much about Danny, but he knows this: he is trustworthy.

Enough to entrust his identity to him.

Enough to entrust Chelsea to him.

It’s more than a favor; it’s a promise to walk this road together.

There’s no one he’d rather do this with.

“Thanks,” he says again, “For all of this. I know it’s a lot.”

Danny shrugs. “I don’t mind. Really. It’s nice to know there’s another halfa out there, no matter how she came to be one. Makes things feel less lonely.”

“Will you tell me more about halfas?”

“Later. Once you get some proper rest. We’ve got time, haven’t we?”

“We do,” Duke agrees, affection settling warm in his chest. “We’ve got plenty of time.”

Learning how to control her new powers won’t be easy for Chelsea. Learning how to take care of her won’t be easy. Learning how to do things together, as Duke and Danny rather than the Signal and Phantom, won’t be easy. But Duke knows with a certainty he feels in his bones that they’re going to be fine.

So long as they’ve got each other, they’ll be fine.

#ghostlights #dc x dp #dp x dc #dcxdp #dpxdc #dc x dp fic #prompt fill #my writing #thought a lot abt what the favor could be but i could not resist the idea of surprise co-parents once i thought of it #here's a kid who clings to someone she knows is safe bc she is scared and alone!!#heres a stressed out hero trying to take care of a kid with no knowledge of how to do that!! and the kid is a ghost!!#heres a ghost king expecting to be used as a weapon and called in for a big battle suddenly finding another halfa!!!#so much going on here. so much to think abt with this!!!!!#i do love found family like this where they all kinda stumble into it and do their best to make it good #also could not resist making yet another oc. chelsea has my whole heart i love her <3 shes my daughter first #the bats dont know abt chelsea yet!! bc she can go invisble. its all been instinct every time they pop over to visit duke #soon she'll be able to control it and meet them properly #by properly i mean dukes gonna go over for sunday brunch and a little girl is gonna pop out from behind him like 'hi! im new!'#they will all love her of course. they will be shocked but happy!!#and a little less happy abt the GHOST KING duke has been hiding in his apartment that hes co-parenting with #sorry for the long tags im obsessed w this idea i want to Expand on it #maybe one day... with my other wips out of the way...

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atlabeth · 4 months

Text

greener grass | luke castellan

i recommend reading bleedin me dry before this as this is the au to that!

summary: what if you left with luke that day in the woods?

a/n: would just like to give a HUGE thank you for the massive amount of support on my luke fic!! and another huge thank you to all you angst demons because why do you want more of it. i mean i get it but why. anyways here’s a different path of actually accepting luke’s offer like so many of you said you would instantly fold lmao i hope you enjoy

wc: 3.2k

warning(s): fem!daughter of demeter reader. luke is his own warning. kind of unhealthy relationship, weird vibes all around

The stars were brighter than ever tonight.

It was one of the first things that stuck out to you when you got to camp, and it was one of the first things that you noticed when you first got on the road with Luke.

You’d always loved the stars. They were a rare sight coming from the city, such a sign of nature and purity that it honestly shouldn’t have been a surprise when you were claimed. You still remembered the shock that went through you when you first saw what a night sky free of pollution could be, and you still remembered the first time you risked your life with the harpies just to spend the night star-gazing.

And you could never forget the first time you dragged Luke along with you, his wry protests falling on deaf ears though he grinned the entire way down to the beach, his hand laced in yours.

Gods.

Luke.

Even the thought of him these days was enough to make your heart clench, a slight shiver run down your spine, and you weren’t fully sure as to why.

You loved him. You ran away with him. Every path that led you here, you willingly chose to walk down.

But you still questioned every second of every godsdamned day if they were the right decisions. Especially now, as you sat alone in front of the fire, carefully stoking it with one of the few dry sticks you’d been able to find after taking shelter—in your own haphazard tent made of vines and tree trunks and any other bits of nature you’d managed to sprout from the ground with your powers—to wait out a rainstorm.

You decided to spend the night, deciding that traveling through the darkness was too risky after the last monster attack, but the minutes couldn’t have been creeping by slower. If being in nature didn’t quite literally fuel you, you knew you would be far more miserable than you already were.

You loved Luke with all your heart, and if he was willing to potentially throw off his entire plan just so he could bring you with him, then he had to love you the same. You owed him this, at least, to not abandon him.

You— you didn’t want to serve Kronos, but you didn’t want to serve the gods, either. Your mother abandoned you before you were old enough to know what the word meant, leaving you on your father’s doorstep swaddled in blankets and with a note that he still had to this day.

Demeter left your father to raise you on his own, left you to live the half-life of a half-blood, and hardly paid attention to you since. She didn’t help you when you were on the road to camp with your satyr, wondering if every bump in the night would be your end, and she let you feel worthless for an entire year before she finally decided you were deserving of her claim.

Or maybe she just finally remembered you existed.

You understood Luke’s anger—you felt it yourself more than you liked to admit—but the path he was on was a dangerous one. You doubted you could take him off of it, but you could keep him safe, and you could prevent more damage. That was all you cared about at this point.

How long you could walk this line was an entirely different question.

You sensed him before you heard him even lost in your thoughts, but the snapping of twigs still made your breath catch for a moment. You kept your gaze on the fire as you spoke.

“Anything?”

“These woods are surprisingly bare for the time of year,” Luke said as he set his backpack on the ground, kneeling down to rifle through it. “I feel like Artemis is punishing me.”

“Well, she doesn’t exactly have a reason to help you,” you said wryly. You gestured with your head towards the miniature orchard you’d been making at each one of your camps—one pro of your parentage was that you—hopefully—wouldn’t ever starve on the road. You’d been growing plants since you realized you could, so it was practically second nature at this point. “Fruit’s on the menu, if you’re interested.”

Luke chuckled as he walked over, and as he plucked a perfectly ripe strawberry, he glanced at you. “Feeling nostalgic?”

You shrugged. You wondered which of your siblings would be in charge of the strawberries with you gone. You hoped Mr. D wouldn’t give it to one of his kids. “Do you blame me?”

“Not at all.” He popped it into his mouth then took an apple from the smallest tree you’d been able to grow. “It was home for us both, for a while.”

You bit your lip. It still was your home—it had been for the past four years. You wanted to go back eventually, but you felt like you had sealed your coffin by going with Luke. Would they ever welcome you back, knowing you willingly followed him into the darkness?

“How long do you think we’ll be on the road?” you asked, finally looking over at him as he sat down across from you. “Not that I don’t enjoy being with you, but… it’s not exactly the safest.”

“At least another week or two,” Luke said. You tried your hardest to keep your expression even as he settled the full force of his gaze on you—you couldn’t deal with the scrutiny. “I need to make sure they’ve lost our trail. The last thing we need is a questing group on our asses.”

You huffed a laugh. “You think they’ll actually send anyone after us?”

Luke shrugged. “If all went well, camp is in total disarray. If it didn’t, they still know I’m with Kronos. I can’t imagine Chiron would take that lightly. And,” he inclined his head, “I did kidnap you.”

You scoffed. “You didn’t kidnap me.”

“They’ll probably think so,” he said, and there was something strange in his eyes. “Doesn’t make sense for you to come with me willingly.”

This again. “Luke—”

“I know,” he said, a slight smile on his lips. There wasn’t much heart in it. “You don’t have to explain yourself again.”

“I just don’t want you to think I’m not with you,” you said. “I— I am. I’m only here for you, Luke.”

His eyes softened. “You mean it?”

“I do,” you nodded. “I couldn’t just leave you.”

“I don’t take any of this lightly, you know.” His eyes never wavered from yours, the orange light flickering across his face and casting a devilish shadow. “You being here means the world. Nothing’s gonna happen to you—I’ll make sure of it.”

“I’m not just gonna lay you out to dry, either,” you said wryly. “We’ll protect each other. Like we always have.”

“Exactly,” Luke affirmed. He bit into the apple he’d seemingly forgot about, and you looked up at the sky in the resulting silence.

It felt like your mind always drifted back to camp, back to your siblings and friends and the victims of Luke’s crusade.

Your summer siblings who would come back next year and wonder where you went, your year-rounders waking up the next morning and all the mornings after with a discontented glance at your bed.

How long would it take for them to forget you? For you to just be another lost demigod in the camp files?

And poor Annabeth Chase. Luke practically raised her, and he walked out on her without a word—you considered yourself lucky he didn’t do the same to you, and you had no idea what awaited you on your path together.

The gods had never been one for listening, and certainly not to you, but you hoped at least one of them would look down on you. Maybe your mother could provide some of that wizened second child advice, shine her favor on you for the first time in your life.

Well. You doubted Demeter would very much appreciate your quasi-support of the titan that ate her. The thing you should have considered yourself lucky for was that your powers still worked.

Luke brought you back to Earth by saying your name, and your gaze snapped back down to meet his. His scar seemed especially grisly in the firelight, at odds with the softness of his expression—something that felt all too rare these days.

“What’s on your mind?” he asked.

“What else could possibly be on it?” you asked wryly, tossing the stick you’d been fiddling with into the fire. It crackled as the flames devoured it, something so out of its realm thrust into it anyways.

“Stupid question,” he admitted.

“We’re practically fugitives, Luke,” you said. “We have monsters after us, and possibly people from camp. We left everyone behind. I’m with you, trust me, but— but I can’t just get over it all as easily as you.”

“And I get that,” he said. “This—” he sighed and shook his head— “you really don’t know how much you being here means to me. I thought I was going to be out on my own on all this.”

Your throat bobbed. You’d never tell him, but you didn’t even know what your answer was going to be until the words left your mouth.

“And you’re telling me that you’d still choose them over me?”

“No,” you said. “I wouldn’t.”

Luke’s eyes softened and your throat felt like it was closing up.

“Then come with me,” he whispered. “We will change the world together.”

“I can’t,” you asserted. “I can’t just leave everyone behind— I’d be leaving my entire life behind, Luke!”

“You’ll help them more this way,” Luke insisted. “The gods aren’t on our side—we’re here so they don’t have to pay attention to us. If we want anything to change for the better, we’re gonna have to do it ourselves.”

You bit your lip, and he brushed a strand of hair out of your face.

“I wouldn’t ask you this if I didn’t think you were right for it,” he murmured, tilting his head as he gazed into your eyes. “Your mother’s never bothered to see you before. I’m gonna make her see you.”

“How?” you asked, hating the hints of desperation coloring your voice.

“You’ll see,” he said. “But we’re gonna do something so big that no one’s going to be able to ignore us.”

Memories of the past four years flashed through your mind, but the two at the forefront were ones with Luke and ones without your mother.

He’d always been there for you, even when Demeter—especially when she wasn’t.

You couldn’t just leave him on his own. Not when he was baring his soul to you—not when his quest for greatness included it for you too.

Not when he was the first boy you ever loved, the one who brought you back from the god-induced edge.

“…Okay,” you said, the word feeling like an ultimatum the moment it left your lips. “Okay. I’ll go with you.”

He stared at you for a second like he didn’t hear you, or rather like he didn’t actually believe it. And then he broke out into a grin.

“Really?”

“Yes, really,” you said. “Have I ever lied to you?”

“Go to your cabin and pack your bags,” Luke said, still unable to control his exuberant expression. We’ll meet each other at the top of the hill.”

“Right now?”

Luke nodded. “Only a couple hours until we’re harpy feed. Everyone’ll think we’re just leaving for the school year.”

“You’ve always been a year-rounder,” you said. “Won’t people—”

“It doesn’t matter,” he said. “No one’ll think anything of it. We just have to get out before anyone asks any questions.”

“Luke,” you murmured, “are you—”

Luke cut you off with a blazing kiss, the same kind of fire in his eyes when he pulled away, a slight smile on his lips at leaving you breathless.

“I’m sure,” he whispered. “You’re not going to regret this. I promise.”

It was all you could do to stare up at him, his grip on your arms the only thing keeping you upright for a solid moment.

“Go,” he said. “Take your time—don’t draw any suspicion. I’ll meet you there.”

“You’re really sure?” you asked, finally able to form words. “Really really sure? About this, a— and me?”

He cupped your cheek, tracing his thumb along your jaw. “I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life than I am about you.”

Leaving camp was insane—when Luke told you of Kronos’s plans, it was even more insane—but it had always been you and Luke. He’d been such a huge part of your life, ever since you first came to camp, that you couldn’t imagine yourself without him.

And when you looked back at him, illuminated by the fire, you were sure of at least one thing.

You weren’t leaving any time soon. Not when you could still fix all of this.

A yawn got the better of you, and you felt Luke’s eyes on you as you covered your mouth with a fist.

“You should get to sleep,” he said. “It’s been a long day.”

“It’s been a long day for both of us,” you said. “We both had to get here—and you were the one who wandered around in the woods for two hours trying to hunt.”

“How do you know I wandered?” Luke asked, setting the apple core down on the ground next to him. “You weren’t there. Maybe I had a very respectable saunter and just came up with nothing.”

You chuckled. “The trees speak to me.”

“Really?” he asked, clearly amused. “And what did they say?”

“That you’re an awful hunter,” you mused, “and you should be very thankful that your girlfriend is good at everything.”

Luke smirked and got up to start walking towards you. “Your ever-knowledgeable trees should know that I already know.” He kneeled down in front of you, a slight smile curling on your lips. “And that I am very thankful.”

He pressed a heated kiss to your lips, and you reciprocated, looping an arm around him to keep him close before you pulled away.

“It’s always good to hear it,” you murmured.

“I’ll say it as many times as you need,” he assured. Luke stole another kiss then gestured towards your makeshift tent. “But you do need to get some sleep. We’re picking up at first light.”

Your smile wavered. “We’ve been moving break-neck for a week already. Are you sure we can’t ease up?”

“Soon,” Luke promised. “I told you, I just want to make sure we’ve lost any tails. We can’t afford that right now.”

He must have seen the change in your expression, because his eyes softened and he took your hand. “It won’t be like this forever, babe. You can handle it.”

“It doesn’t mean I want to,” you said dryly, but you sighed as you squeezed his hand. “I’ll turn in if you do too.”

“Anything for you,” Luke said with a smile. You chuckled and shook your head as you stood up, and Luke grabbed his backpack before he went over to the tent with you.

Your meager belongings weren’t much. You’d stuffed all the demigod essentials, some outfits, and a sleeping bag in your pack before hightailing it to Thalia’s tree, and Luke hadn’t packed much more—but at least it was light traveling.

Every night had been spent in the same way, sharing your sleeping bag as you got what precious sleep Luke allocated before you were back on the road again. You were sure the only thing that got you through each early rising was his soft touches and easy murmured words.

You laid down, staring up at the roof of brambles and bark, and you twisted your hand just so to make them twist away from each other for a small opening.

Luke raised an eyebrow at you as he zipped his bag up, still crouched on the ground. “What’s that for?”

You shrugged. “I’ve always liked sleeping under the stars.”

Again, that small smile. It could still make you melt, even now. “I remember. I just hope it doesn’t start raining again.”

“Like rain’ll be the worst thing we’ve dealt with,” you said wryly. “Besides, I can feel it in the air. We’re gonna be fine.”

“Yeah,” he said. “We are.”

You glanced over and he was looking at you. You patted the spot next to you.

“C’mon,” you said. “I’m cold.”

“Oh, we can’t have that,” he said, amused, and he huddled in next to you. You let out a contented sigh as his body heat sunk into you, and he draped an arm across you to pull you closer.

“That better?” he asked.

You hummed in response. “Thank you.”

“Always.”

You closed your eyes as you exhaled deeply, trying your best to unwind the tension in every part of your body. You weren’t used to trekking miles every day, eating rations you’d packed from camp or gas station food from whenever you ended up close to town, only having the woods and the sky and Luke for company. It was starting to wear on you, but you weren’t going to let Luke know.

“I love you,” Luke said suddenly, breaking the silence, his breath tickling your neck. Your eyes snapped open. “You know that, right?”

A moment passed before you murmured, “I know.”

You could feel some of the tension leave his body, and he adjusted his position to be closer to you.

“Good.”

His curls brushed against your skin as he rested his head in the crook of your neck. Luke was a comforting presence behind you, like an anchor in the choppy waters you’d thrown yourself into, but it… it just felt different than the countless other times.

But that was only natural. You were back on the road, living the way you did when you first made the trip to Camp Half-blood with your satyr. Of course it felt different than the crowded chaos of the Hermes cabin, or the beach underneath a tapestry of stars, or your own bed at the behest of your siblings. The only thing that stayed the same was the scent of nature, and the scent of Luke.

Things were different, yes, but you knew that would happen. Luke was different, but you knew that would happen—half the reason you came along with him was because you wanted to make sure he had a lifeline, a way to come back to shore when he decided his crusade was over.

Because it had to be over eventually. He would decide that there was no way you could beat the gods, that it wasn’t worth killing himself over some meaningless mission. The gods had never cared about you before—you didn’t know why they would care about some half-baked rebellion by two of their least favorite kids.

You loved Luke. He loved you. You told yourself that was all that mattered, because you were in this together now.

For better or for worse.

#damn girl you really are a demeter kid the way you're planting these seeds of distrust #also he hasn't told her what he did to percy so this is clearly a very stable and good situation for both of them #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan fic #luke castellan angst #pjo x reader #x reader #sadie writes

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fearandhatred · 4 months

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the very first thing i did in 2024 was go insane aka i slept at 7am and among other things i drew these! they're unrefined and only two panels of a much larger thing i'm doing but since that'll not be done any time soon i thought i might as well post these first

panel 8 of panel 2

#fearandhatred #fearandart #me drawing the first panel: girl how do you draw hair. girl how do you draw wings. girl how do you draw the universe #some person out there might be able to guess what the larger thing is (it's based off something else) just based on the colours #also i haven't gotten around to finishing the panels that include having to draw their faces yet. for reasons #don't ever ask me how i draw aziraphale at this point i don't even use references for him just pure luck and a prayer #also “among other things” includes doing two more panels and writing 2k words of a fic and starting the perks of being a wallflower (book)#and also having breakfast #and then going to sleep and waking up at 4pm #good omens #good omens season 2 #ineffable husbands #aziracrow #crowley #aziraphale #good omens fanart #good omens art #art

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darklydeliciousdesires · 8 months

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Lazy Dawn - A Rio/Reader Smut Short.

Bit of morning cockwarming with Rio, besties? Here you go!

Words - 386

Warnings - Smut below the cut, minors DNI!

You’ve always slept on your front, one leg bent, arms wrapped around the pillow you bury your face into. However, your man has never taken advantage of that easily accessible position; until now.

You’re still groggy and fuzzy with sleep when you feel him shifting, his body lowering to yours, fingertips skimming against your dewy sex, still damp from the previous hours of enjoying one another. Opening your eyes, you hum softly, smiling at the sensation of his many inches slowly slipping into you. That first erection of the day; it’s always the hardest for some reason.

“Mmm, good morning, darlin’.” Stroking the back of your neck, his lips scatter kisses, a soft grunt falling from his lips as he feels your walls squeeze around him, the slick hug sumptuous. You await it, the feel of his cock beginning to slide, waking up a little more, the hard mass speared into you twitching gently.

“Rio,” you whine, his laugh soft and rumbling, more kisses planted against your neck. “Quit teasing me.”

He slides his arms beneath you, pulling you even more firmly against him, hands kneading at your breasts while his cock remains still. “If I was teasing, I wouldn’t be inside you at all, mama.” Oh, he’s so fucking smug, and you can feel that smug smile against your back as he kisses you again, his chuckle escalating at your small grumbles of complaint. “Just lie there and enjoy it, being all full of me. I gotta wake up a little more first.”

Moving his hands, he grips your waist, beginning to inch your body down the bed a little more as he shuffles back, grasping your arms from beneath the pillows and pulling them out. His fingers stroke tickly swirls over them, your skin goose pimpled beneath his touch, body pressed flat to yours, cock still twitching within the snugness of your cunt.

The feel of him pressing you into the mattress, so much of his skin hotly blanketing yours, it has warm wells of pleasure pouring through you, lazily erotic energy beginning to spark, finally, the thick drag of his cock igniting it when he begins to move.

“Yeah, that better, darlin’? Is that what you needed?”

Your purr of delight at finally being filled and emptied is all the response he requires.

#rio good girls fanfiction #manny montana fanfiction #rio x reader #manny montana x reader #manny montana smut #rio smut #good girls fanfiction #manny montana fanfic #manny montana fic #good girls fanfic #good girls smut

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oozedninjas · 5 months

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Hello! Not exactly sure what’s all covered under “dark stuff” but I thought I’d shoot my shot.

Do you have any ideas or head canons concerning how badly the turtles might um…. Mark someone up during a close encounter? Like how badly the animal instincts might take over, or if they were even aware of it happening?

18+ /NSFW / Leo's the oldest with 29 / Everyone is susceptible to leaving marks at one time or another. In this essay, I will—

Leo is more susceptible to this act during his rut, when you're having angry sex, or those nights when he feels like acting a little mean (just because you love it). He sucks on your skin, and it's that suction that leaves the mark—most of the time reddish, almost purple. Always heals fast, for which he's gotta keep making them.

Raphel adores biting you. His marks are always deep purple and borderline black. Looks more like you had an accident, which makes them extra hard to hide under makeup or clothing. They take forever to heal, and he kind of gets offended if you cover them up.

Donatello is respectful while marking you. If you request him not to place his love bites in visible areas he'll listen. There's a catch, however. No neck marks? Perfect. How about splattering your entire torso with multiple different-sized hickeys? Sounds fair, right? I swear he'd be the most smooth talker, and yet somehow has an absolutely ravishing mischievous smirk.

Mikey uses them more when he's feeling slightly more possessive of you. Typically, the urge to mark you intensifies as his mating season comes close to its peak. My dude goes feral. He loves it when you mark him too (I mean if somehow you could go through that hard surface of his skin). And you can bet he shows them off proudly!

#what's covered under dark stuff? *insert mean girls meme “the limit does not exist”#don't be afraid to request what you wanna read #as long as it isn't horribly specific (as in you want me to write you a full fic with oc and all lol) it's all good!#If I do not want to do smt then I won't #don't worry too much about that #and always mind the warnings in the stuff I post #tw dark content #tmnt bayverse #tmnt dark content #tmnt dark turtles #tmnt bayverse leo #tmnt bayverse raph #tmnt donatello #tmnt bayverse donnie #tmnt michelangelo #tmnt mikey x reader #tmnt leo x reader #tmnt raph x reader

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kooeater · 5 days

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First place | JJK

smut | angst | slight fluff

Jungkook x f.reader

warnings: unprotected sex, impregnation kink, degradation, daddy kink, very submissive reader, spanking, blowjob, toxic behavior, dirty talk, manipulation, missionary, second wife!reader, angst, jk has 2 wives 😭, mentions of cheating/homewrecking, age gap, older!jk, arguing, craziness. | note: i do NOT encourage this behavior irl.

“Please don’t stop.” your desperate whimpers come out when you feel your climax creeping up on you.

“Tightest fucking pussy ever, fuck.” Jungkooks hips snapped into yours, your leg over his shoulder as he fucks into you.

You needed to fuck. You needed to fuck someone, someone who could fuck you for hours. You go to your husband, who you share. You fell in love with Jungkook, so deeply in love.

Jungkook already had a wife, and when he told her he was having an affair she crumbled completely because she loves him deeply too. She loves him so much she agreed that you can stay in the picture, as a second wife, but she will always remain the first wife, the real one he loves.

“Going to cum in this pussy, going to fill it up.” manly groans escape his lips, the feeling of your gummy like walls clamping around his throbbing cock sending him into a state of euphoria.

“Cum in me please, please breed me daddy I need it so bad please please please.” You then reach your orgasm.

You cum on his cock, thighs slightly shaking. You feel his pace go a bit rougher, and quicker.

“Yeah cum on my cock just like that”

your sharp nails come out and scratches his back, digging into his flesh. Scratching him was not just because of the pleasure you were feeling and the need to grip onto him, but also as marking. Although you were a second wife, you wanted to imagine it was just you and him.

The thought of any other female around him has you marking him more than usual. Even though the other female is his own wife, his first wife, you needed to leave your mark on him.

“Take my cum, fuck feels so good.” he then lets out his warm white cum into you, making you clench around him.

“On all fours.”

You quickly obey, getting on all fours and presenting yourself to him. Your ass pressing against his still hard cock.

you then felt a spank to your ass, making it jiggle back. You whine at the feeling, the stinging pain sending sensation to your body and also making you even more wet for him.

“Should you give me this pussy again? Or should you open that mouth for me?” he brings his tip to your sensitive slit, moving it up and down.

“Want you in my mouth.” you let out. You still wanted him to fuck you but you been craving and dreaming about having him deep in your throat.

“Wanna suck my cock baby? Such a good girl.”

He quickly moves to your face, having you still on all fours. It’s like he wants to leave you in that position and just go around and observe you, thinking of what else he wants to do to you before he goes back to his boring first wife.

Before you know it, his cock is in your face. His hand pumping himself before letting the tip touch your tongue. Your mouth is opened, ready to take him.

“You look so pretty, such a good slut for me. Ready to take cock.” his dirty words made you more eager to have him inside your mouth, so you take his cock in your hand and shove it down your throat.

“Mm fuck.” he curses out, the feeling of your wet mouth and tongue moving up and down his length causing an overwhelming pleasure to him.

Just as you start getting messy with the blowjob you’re giving, the door opens.

“Jungkook we need to talk-“ it was her. It was his first wife.

Her eyes slightly widens as she sees you on all fours with her husbands cock down your throat. Salvia dripping from the corners of your mouth and his cum all on and inside your pussy. Her eyes travel from you to her husband, who’s fully naked. Tattoos and muscles on display, clearly deep in the moment.

“Yunah fuck, not now babe alright?” you then take his cock out of your throat, completely over this man.

“Clearly. I’ll be downstairs with lily and eunbi.”

She maintains her cool, closing the door and quickly leaving downstairs. The mentions of her 2 daughters with Jungkook making you feel a bit of shame. Especially since lily is only 6 and eunbi is 4.

“Sorry about that baby, alright let’s get back to it. Missed your touch already.” His words are poison. You want to please him more. You want to be all over him so bad, but not like this.

It’s been 6 long months of being married to Jungkook after a year of fooling around. You think of how young you are, only 22. Is the rest of your life really going to be days filled with this man? This 36 year old, beautiful man you love so much. What if you reach 35 just like his wife, would he still love you?

“Baby?” his voice brings you out of your thoughts.

“I’m tired, I think we should get some sleep. Plus I’m sure they need you right now.” you quickly get up and put your nightgown on, not caring that his dick was still hard and waiting for you.

“Hey? Baby we been over this. I know this situation is hard but I love you so much. I love my kids, I love you, and I love our little one coming soon.” His tattooed hand caresses your tummy, you both have been having unprotected sex the past month, so you both are sure you’re pregnant. He’s cum inside of you way too many times for you not to be.

“What about her?” you chirp out sadly.

“Baby. You know it’s just for the kids. She’s still my wife, and I still care for her deeply but-“ you cut him off before he could speak more.

“But what? But you still give her kisses? But you still take her out in dates with the girls, having this picture perfect family life, but you still sleep by her side, but you still have sex with her.”

you let out what you wanted to let out for a while. You know you’re at fault for this too, but you can’t help it. You fell in love.

“I hardly even kiss her! I do when we’re around people who know we’re married maybe. I take her out with our kids because they deserve to have family memories. It doesn’t matter if I sleep by her side because you’re all I think about. And the few times I did have sex with her which only been twice these past 6 months I used condoms because I only want to feel you. She can’t even make me cum! You agreed to this, remember that.”

He was raising his voice a bit, already having his pajama pants on. You didn’t care with what he had to say, you didn’t care for his excuses you were just upset at everything. Upset at him, upset at his wife, upset at yourself, upset with the world.

“It doesn’t matter Jungkook if you use condoms or if it was a few times, It’s the way you have sex with her too! Soft slow romantic and all of that shit and what do I get? I get fucked like a whore. And yes I love it but I also want you to love me more. Be romantic with me too. Stop being romantic with her and start focusing on me. Please I can’t do this anymore.”

Tears starts to escape your eyes, you really couldn’t do it anymore. You were falling apart. Everything would be good if she was just out of the picture.

You didn’t hear Jungkook say anything, you just felt his large muscular arms wrapped around your small weeping frame.

“I love you. I love you so much and I’m sorrry.” you let him try to comfort you, because yet again you let the love you have for him take over you.

“Sorry isn’t enough Jungkook. I love you too, and I never want to stop loving you but I can’t be second place anymore. Please. Please I can’t do this.” you sob into his chest.

The night ended on a good note surprisingly. He reassured you and comforted you to the max. He told you everything was going to be okay, he told you it was all going to be over soon. That it would just but you two and the kids, including the one inside you. He slept by your side, holding you so close. Kissing you and coddling you, showing you so much love.

Your night ended amazing, while on the other hand.. Yunah’s morning was depressing but expected. Sadly. She woke up alone, with divorce papers on her nightstand. She walked around the huge house that will no longer be hers. She saw that her daughters were already at school, taken by their father. She catches you in the bathroom upstairs, with a pregnancy test in your hand. You didn’t notice her, too focused on the 2 lines on the test. She didn’t need to be close to see the 2 bold red lines.

You were too caught up in the moment, that you’re pregnant. You’re going to have a child of your own, with your husband who is now all yours. You do feel bad, but you’re now finally in first place.

Hi guys!! 💌 I have a fic for y’all finally omg this was so messy 😭 like the story is messy the characters are messy like it’s just a mess but it was honestly fun writing. I’m thinking of writing some major like.. crazy plot type fics, idk if I should focus more on plot of smut.. I try both but sometimes it gets hard :( but anyway another yapping from me, im going to listen to lana and kali uchis to inspire more fantasy idea to write about hehe 💋🎀

- belle 🩰

#coquette #jungkook #bts jungkook #jk #jk fic #dollette #bts fanfic #bts smut #bts x reader #jeon jungkook #daddy's good girl #jk smut #jungkook x reader #jungkook smut #jungkook fanfic #jungkook angst #bts fanfction #fic writing #jungkook fic

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otaku553 · 6 months

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I have an agenda.

Long hair teenage sabo.

#one piece #sabo #you cannot convince me that he did not have a long hair phase #like if he grew out his hair to hide his scar he has to have tried more to hide it more thoroughly #I found a fic recently that followed sabo’s growing up in the revolutionary army and it was really really good #I want to see more amnesiac teenage sabo acting awkward around his peers because even back on dawn he had only two friends #more of kids being insensitive and asking about his scar which even he has no idea how he got #and koala and him being antagonistic towards each other #and them slowly becoming friends #anyways I’m so. I tried going onto YouTube to see if there were any good video analyses of sabo #and like yeah I can see why sabo would be a divisive character #but I also completely forgot that there are one piece readers who have not an ounce of media literacy #or respect for female characters #something something ‘sabo is like an oc insert because he exists so distant from everything and just in time to replace ace’ SHUT UP #or ‘favoritism towards sabo because he has a hot girl following him around and more hot girls in the revolutionaries’ I AM GOING TO GO INSA #KOALA IS HER OWN CHARACTER AND AN EXTREMELY INTERESTING ONE THAT DOES NOT EXIST JUST TO BE EYE CANDY OFF OF SABO’ ARM #SABO IS AN AMAZING CHARACTER IN LINE WITH THE THEMES OF ONE PIECE AROUND FREEDOM AND EQUALITY

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harbingersglory · 3 months

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Perhaps the Shogun Puppet and Sara (both trans) sharing the reader? The puppet offering up a volunteer (reader) as a reward for Sara’s devoted years of service, that quickly ends up with the reader getting spitroasted between them. Sara has the privilege of claiming the reader’s pussy (and by extension, their womb and eventual firstborn child) while the Shogun takes their mouth—this is meant to be Sara’s reward after all.

{☆} characters kujou sara, raiden shogun [ puppet ] {☆} notes drabble, fem reader, sub reader, transfem kujou sara, transfem raiden shogun {☆} warnings 18+ content, breeding kink, restraints, fingering, face fucking

Kujou Sara was many things– loyal, devoted and first and foremost a soldier. There was little time between a strict schedule for anything but honing herself like a dulled blade. She assumed she simply did not care for worldly pleasures, but now..

Her throat feels impossibly dry, her palms clammy as she tries to ignore how tight fitting her uniform feels all of a sudden. She cannot look away from the meek figure at the feet of the Shogun, her Archon, stripped bare and tied in an intricate display of winding ropes that accentuate your figure– she feels lightheaded at the sight, a broken groan tumbling from her lips, just barely muffled in time by her trembling hand.

"A reward," The stoic, unyielding voice of the Shogun rings in the room like the swing of a blade, cutting through the thick air with the ease befitting of such an imposing figure. "For your service, General Kujou." She gestures so easily to you, as if presenting an object to be owned rather then a person– she cannot find it in herself to dispute it. You are..beyond words. Ethereal, even as you are bound in tight ropes and left at the mercy of an Archon and a tengu.

"..I am honored by your generosity, Almighty Shogun." Sara replies quickly and stiffly, her eyes never drifting far from your body– always drawn back. "Yet you are still hesitant." The Shogun snaps back coldly, eyes narrowed– her shoulders grow stiff in tension, her mind scrambling for an excuse, yet she cannot manage to speak a word.

"If this reward is not suitable.." Sara nearly balks at that, her hands twitching and her teeth aching in an urge she thought long buried. Try as she might, she cannot ignore the desire she feels towards you..and she cannot simply refuse a reward from the Shogun herself. Archons, she is a weak woman, she realizes– her will broken by a pretty face..

"..It is suitable, Almighty Shogun."

Yet she steels her resolve like a honed blade, kneeling before her "reward" and clasping your ankles in her calloused hands– your skin is smooth, at least compared to her own, as she eases your legs apart. Archons, you are even more gorgeous up close. The satisfied hum of the Shogun, watching with piercing eyes as she claims her reward, spurs her on. She leans close to your face, cupping your jaw in her hand and taking a moment to appreciate your features. The bob of your throat as you swallow, the haziness of your eyes..she leans down further, pressing almost reverent, apologetic kisses to your jaw, exhaling heavily against your skin.

She cannot stop herself now. The sickly sweet scent of shampoo, likely the courtesy of the Shogun, fills her lungs and makes her feel dizzy. You're like a fine dessert and she wants to devour you.

Even still, however, she keeps a close eye on your face– watching the slightest changes like a hawk. She leans away from spots you seem to show discomfort from, pressing more kisses and nips to the spots that have your breath hitching in your throat. She likes it– seeing you beneath her like this..Archons, her uniform feels so suffocating now, her cock straining against it.

But she wants to take it slow, if only for her own inexperience. She wants to see your face twisted in pleasure, not discomfort.

So she takes her take unraveling you, her chapped lips kissing down your throat to your chest, the barest hint of bruises marring your skin as she drags her tongue across your nipple, a low growl building in her throat at the way you arched your back into her mouth. It's so distracting that she almost forgets the Shogun stands above her, watching like a statue as her hand slips between your thighs to sink a finger into your cunt– and how easily she does so, your thighs already sticky with arousal. She is slow in her movements, fingering you more like a lover, intimate in a way that feels foreign to her.

"You're so pretty," She murmurs in a haze, words slurred through the fog of desire, sighing softly against your shoulder as she eases another finger inside you, her tongue finding your other nipple. "Does this feel good?" Her eyes meet your own as she presses a kiss to your chest, practically pleading for the answer to be yes– she wants the validation, to know she's making you feel good, at least as good as she feels. Her touch is still uncertain and clumsy, but she has always been a quick learner.

It does not take long before you unravel beneath her, your squishy walls squeezing around her fingers as she eases you through your climax.

Your cum sticks to her fingers when she pulls her hand back, her own breath hitching in her throat as she swipes her tongue across her digits– had she not been in such a daze, she might've been embarrassed, but the taste upon her tongue only made the fog worse. She almost considered burying her face in your cunt for a better taste, but her cock was..painfully hard. So with a hint of reluctance, she fumbled with her uniform, tugging her aching cock free with a broken groan.

For a moment she almost seems embarrassed by your stare, her hands pushing your thighs further apart– but the look of raw need..it matches her own, feeding the almost animalistic urges that urge her to claim you, to push your legs up to your chest and fill your womb till it's bursting with her cum. Archons, she wants to. Just seeing her cum spilling out of your cunt would be enough.

Her nails dig into your thighs as she aligns her cock, dragging the tip through your folds before gently sinking into your cunt. It almost breaks her– the tight, wet heat of your folds around her drags a whine unbidden from her throat, breaths coming out in shallow panting. Her grip on your thighs tightens as she presses a shaky kiss to your chest, satisfied by the moans that tumble from your own lips. She wonders what it would be like to kiss you, but the thought is swept from her thoughts as quickly as it came, her cock slowly stretching your cunt around her, forcing you to take every inch.

You've never looked prettier in her eyes.

But her moment of admiration and awe is short lived, her body falling into complete stillness as she watched the Shogun step forward– Sara can feel her stare through the back of her head, sweat beading on her brow and her throat so dry it's difficult to swallow. Rather, instead of whatever Sara expected, the Shogun kneels.

It's only now she sees the twitching cock between her own legs, stilling any protests that bubbled up in her throat. She watched, transfixed as the Shogun slid a thumb past your lips, tilting your head back enough for her to sink her cock into your waiting mouth. The sight of it makes her heart stutter in her chest, her own cock twitching inside you as she bucks her hips instinctively, hissing at the sudden burst of pleasure.

Sara doesn't dare to speak up, but she can't help but feel transfixed by the way your throat bulges around the Shogun's cock, her hands digging deeper into your thighs. The ease in which you take the Shogun makes her wonder if you were hers– the idea of fucking the Shogun's pet..she was surprised to find the idea so enticing, her hips snapping harshly against yours as she fit herself fully inside your cunt, hands clasping your thighs to the point even her hands were beginning to ache.

The Shogun was still watching her, she could feel it, but it felt less suffocating and more..curious, maybe. Whatever rhythm Sara set, the Shogun would adjust, the gentle rolling of her hips accentuated by the short thrusts into your mouth. She felt dizzy at it all, burying her face against your chest and sliding her hands up your hips, along your ribs, clutching you tightly against as she pulled her hips back, nearly slipping out of your cunt altogether before snapping her hips forward harshly, the slap of skin making her groan.

She couldn't help it anymore– she needed to claim you, to see your face contort in pleasure as she claimed your cunt, filled you to the brim with her cum..she wanted it so badly it made her feel dizzy. A part of her wonders if the Shogun would even let her impregnate you, but she didn't care– she'd try anyway. Even if she had to fill you up again and again, as many times as it took.

Sara's gentle thrusts quickly crumbled into something much rougher, all sense forgotten at the promise of claiming you– of making you hers, from your cunt to your womb, and even your mouth, if she ever got the chance. She was practically an animal in her desperation, stretching your cunt to fit her with every harsh thrust and growling against your chest, leaving visible bruises and bites on your chest. The Shogun matched her with a robotic rhythm of her own, the sound of you gagging around the Shogun's cock making her shudder, her eyes following the drool dribbling down your face.

It was far more arousing then she wanted to admit, watching the Shogun use your throat while she used your cunt, giving you no room to breathe.

It is with a great reluctance that she pulls her gaze away from you and the Shogun, burying her face against your chest once more as the pressure builds, her lips caught between her teeth until the taste of iron flooded her taste buds. But she had no time to dwell on it, pressing her hips firmly against your own with a muffled groan as the pressure exploded, her cum painting your walls, still bucking into you in short thrusts.

She could only imagine the image of your throat being filled by the Shogun's own climax, her lungs straining as she gulped down air between shaky moans, pressing a kiss to your chest.

She was far from done with you, but you deserved at least a moment of respite before she filled you all over again.

#asks #anon #genshin impact smut #genshin smut #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #minors dni #writing tag #kujou sara x reader #kujou sara smut #raiden shogun x reader #raiden shogun smut #chewing on the bars of my cage OUGH #if the other sara fic was like a pointblank shotgun blast 2 the chest #this was like. an rpg point blank 2 the chest.#ei/sara/miko triple teaming reader is next /hj #also shogun played a smaller role then i would have liked but i wanted the focus 2 mainly be on sara #also lowkey puppy sara agenda was added #pathetic sopping wet puppy she needs validation when shes fucking your brains out okay #call her a good girl/boy and its over ur not seeing the sun for a week #yall need 2 stop w the breeding kink for my sake i die a little inside every time i see it #its my weak point i am nothing if not weak for a good breeding kink fic #really need 2 make one where its the real main focus at some point. ough.#need a family man like ch1lde but a woman instead smh #brain says transfem d1luc............#nav1a maybe but i feel like shed be lowkey abt it #ueueueueue ill shut up now this has nothing 2 do w the post anymore lol #also not proofread so like. if theres any typos or smth dont look at me. runs #also also lowkey implied reader is basically the shoguns uhh. pet? toy? w/e u want ig.#but yknow. sharing is caring!!

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