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ghoulphile · 1 day
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janey's dad | c.h./the ghoul | part 01
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➥ pairing | cooper howard/the ghoul x f!reader ➥ word count | 3.7k ➥ warning(s) | 🔞 smut; age gap, hair pulling, teasing, making out, mutual pining, lipstick kink, stockings, frottage, porn w/ feelings, porn w/ plot, mild angst w/ happy ending, divorced!coop, babysitter!reader, pre-war/bomb ➥ summary | “We really, uh, shouldn’t - oh fuck, you look --” ➥ notes | i'm so sorry this is later than it should be. i am unfortunately a corporate slave and this fic just did not want to cooperate 🫠 there are a lot more things planned and this fic is turning into a bit of a beast (20+ pages and counting rip lmao) so i've decided to split it into two parts to make it more manageable for myself mostly un-beta'd atm a special thanks to @corinthianism for all her lovely help ❤️!!
feel free to send in thots, questions, requests! | masterlist
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Divorce is hard, but being a divorcé is downright hellish.
One of the ugliest things in the world, if Cooper Howard has any say. At least when he was a Marine, they told him where to point his gun, where to aim; nameless threats vanishing with a quick squeeze of the trigger.
Here, these ‘enemies’ aren’t enemies — not really.
It’d be easier if they were.
Worse still, they have names he holds as dearly as his own. There’s Barb, whip smart and always so clever. Then Janey, the light of his life and so sweet his teeth ache.
Once upon a time, life was sweeter than apple pie on Sundays.
Then came the separation.
Afterwards, he finds it hard to look at what’s left of his family without losing breath like a horse kick to the chest. Their absence rips open a hole inside him ten miles wide, its edges jagged and wrong.
And when he can’t take the silence anymore, fingers of malt liquor help dull the ache, though it’ll never be enough to mend what’s broken.
See, war’s something he understands.
But these domestic battlefields where he sits across from his ex-wife while lawyers barter this weekend and that holiday?
How he struggles to meet his daughter’s eye every time she asks if he’s coming home?
When Barb keeps the house and the money while he keeps the scrapbooks and the dog?
He doesn’t — can't — refuses to comprehend.
Because in what world can you reconcile looking down the barrel of a smoking gun only to find the woman you love staring back, finger on the trigger? Left out to hang as Vault-Tec orchestrates his downfall.
The true depth of their involvement is unknown, but it’s no coincidence his bank accounts dried up faster than the Mojave in June. The ink still wet when the media snapped up the story of his failed marriage.
Thus, his reputation (rather what’s left of it) unraveled faster than a spool of thread.
Knocked on his ass and kept there by a boot heel crushing his windpipe. Whose? He hasn’t got a fucking clue.
But whoever they are, they’re making sure he stays a washed up nobody who struggles to land a call back, much less pay his monthly alimony on time.
See what we can do? You were America’s favorite gunslinger - now look at you. Mind your place.
Hell, millions used to scream his name.
Nowadays people whisper it behind their hands like a dirty secret, “Oh, did you hear? Cooper Howard…” as they dissect pieces of his life into bite-sized Before’s and After’s. “Hah! Serves him right. Y’know, I never liked him much.”
While he grits his teeth and swallows his bitterness with a smile, he hates how he can’t protect Janey from snide reporters and nosy strangers. Juggling actor-father-divorcé with fumbling hands.
It’s only been six months; a heartbeat, a lifetime, and already he’s scraped thin like butter over too much bread.
Something’s gotta give.
After all, he’s only one man.
But just when it's bleakest, the clouds part.
A young woman moves in next door, the first bright thing that’s come his way in a long, long while.
At first, he kept his distance.
Exchanged vague hello’s and how-are-you’s. Then Janey took a shine; always so friendly and eager to talk about her latest books.
Any reservations he might’ve had died when he saw how enamored you are with her.
Only made sense that over time small pleasantries turned into playdates. Then those playdates turned into sleepovers.
Before long, you’re watching her when a gig runs late.
Rustling up grub and tucking her into bed more often than not these days. And when he slinks in through the door, knees aching and stripped to the bone, there you are with a shy smile and a warm meal.
So what if he takes himself in hand after you leave, stroking his cock to the thought of you down on your knees in that pretty little sundress?
Imagines the wide stretch of your ruby lips as you swallow him down, lipstick smeared an awful mess?
Cums hard to the fantasy of your teary eyes and hiccupy breaths as you choke?
What you don’t know can’t hurt you.
After all, he’s a gentleman... he promises to keep his hands to himself.
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“All right, Sugar Bomb, it’s bedtime.”
Bundled in navy bedding up to her nose, Janey’s wide brown eyes peer up at you from beneath a riot of frizzy curls. Roosevelt, her ever faithful companion, plasters himself to her side. The tip of his tail swishes once, twice before falling limp.
“Ah, c’mon guys. Don’t look at me like that.” You sigh with a fond shake of the head, hip popping out to rest against the doorframe. “I don’t make the rules, I just follow ‘em.”
A muffled response sounds from the lump of little girl, “Nmfhm.”
Squinting, you dip your head and tap the side of your ear, "Pardon?"
“Mnhfmmmm.”
“Ye—eah… Didn’t catch that, Mumbler.”
Janey tugs down the blanket, her mouth pursed in a moue of displeasure. “I said,” she crosses her arms with a huff, “not until Dad gets home.”
Shit.
“M’sorry, baby. He’s still gonna be a while.” Walking across the room, you stop beside the bed and motion your hand back and forth. “Scooch over.”
Gangly limbs fumble as Janey wiggles into the middle of the mattress, her feet tangling in the blankets. Roosevelt takes a toe to the nose during the transition, but flops across her knees all the same.
Together they settle with a bounce of springs.
In the open space, you slide in.
The bed sinks under your weight, a plume of rich cologne tickling your nose; mint-spiced citrus. Cooper. Your stomach swoops, and your heart trips.
“I didn’t see him at breakfast — or lunch!” A pout tugs at her mouth. “Not even dinner. I gotta go home tomorrow. So when am I gonna see him?”
“Oh, bug.” You sigh, propping yourself up on your elbow. “Your dad’s been real busy at work. And I know that’s been hard for you, but I promise to make sure he’s here for breakfast tomorrow.”
“D’you mean it?” Her cold nose digs into your skin. “Me and Roosevelt miss him so much.”
Cuddled into your chest, Janey tosses an arm around your back. Her fuzzy head rests in the crook of your arm, springy curls tickling your skin.
You squeeze her tight and trace your fingertips over her forehead.
“I can do you one better,” you say, bopping the tip of her nose just to hear her giggle - a soft sound that sits warm and gooey in your chest. “I pinkie-promise.”
Her finger loops around yours, so small and fragile.
“I’ll even make pancakes. How’s that sound for a promise?”
“Oh, yes, please! I think Dad will like that,” a wide yawn cuts her off mid-sentence. “He’s sad, but he always smiles when you make food.”
Janey’s words — unexpected as they are sudden — cut so deep it steals the breath from your lungs. You flounder, your heart a throbbing bruise in your chest.
“... Then pancakes it is.”
As if nothing happened at all, she asks, “Do I have to go to bed now?”
“Afraid so, little miss.” Your responding chuckle sounds stilted even to your own ears. “Just you wait. When you wake up, Dad’ll be home.”
“Fi—ine, but I want extra pancakes.” Janey pauses, considers you with narrow eyes, then adds, “With syrup!”
“Whatever you want,” you say with an indulgent smile. “Now... time to sleep. It’s really past your bedtime.”
She gives you one last squeeze then lets you tuck her in nice and tight, blankets pulled up to her chin. You drop a kiss on her forehead while Roosevelt re-settles on the pillow beside her after a quick scratch behind the ears. 
Everything in order, you turn to go only for a little hand to stop you.
“Yes?” you reply, glancing at her from over your shoulder.
“... can you put on one of Dad's movies?”
The tremble in her voice - like she’s about to get scolded - breaks your heart clean down the middle. Stitching on a soft smile, you nod and walk to the darkened TV set in the room's corner.
After fiddling with the nobs, static flashes to life.
“The Man from Deadhorse okay?”
The holotape sliding into the track swallows the sound of her tiny “Yeah.” Starting up with a whirl of machinery, the second-hand Radiation King flickers to life in black-and-white.
A vast plain and bright sky stretches across the screen.
Then Sugarfoot creeps into frame with the one and only Cooper Howard sitting astride the noble steed. The sheriff’s badge on his chest glints in the sun.
“Thank you,” she mumbles, already half-way to sleep.
“Anything for you, baby. Sleep tight.”
Flicking off the lights, you leave the door cracked. Walk away pretending like hearing her whisper goodnight to the TV doesn’t lance through you like lightning.
The desire to whisk her into your arms and soothe all of her ails is almost impossible to ignore.
Somehow, you distract yourself by wiping up the table, then by fixing a plate of dinner for whenever Cooper rolls in. Though all the while, how brokenhearted Janey sounded sits in the back of your mind like a leaden weight.
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When Cooper stumbles into the living room, it’s half past midnight.
You’d gotten up to greet him, curled as you were in an armchair reading, when something about the stern line of his mouth gave you pause.
Where the usual lighthearted greetings lingered, a pensive stillness trembled to life.
Tension crackles through the air; a held breath of agitation. By the faraway gaze and defeated slump of his broad shoulders, it’s plain to see the night didn’t go as intended. And no matter how much you long to soothe, you can’t.
After all, he’s not yours to touch.
Instead, you offer a sympathetic smile and ask, “Rough night, huh?”
Cooper ignores the prompt, squeezing past with a brief touch to your elbow as he makes a beeline for the dry bar. The heat of his body is there and gone in a flash, his cologne teasing your senses. He says, “Thought you’d be asleep by now.”
Your heart flutters in your throat. “Ah,” you lick your lips, “well, I was going to finish my chapter first.”
Humming, he turns his back to you and fiddles with high balls and decanters. The tink of crystal glassware fills the air as he speculates which alcohol goes best with his mood. 
“Thanks again for watching Janey.” He nods in approval and fixes his whiskey neat. “I don’t know what we’d do without you.”
“Oh, it’s no trouble, Mr. Howard.” You shrug. “She’s a sweetheart.”
He shoots you a dry look from over his shoulder, stirring the dark amber of his drink with a forefinger. When he sucks his skin clean with a soft pop - a flash of a pink tongue taunting, teasing - your stomach swoops.
God, I wonder what else his mouth can do.
Flustered, you clear your throat and stare at a spot on the wall.
“How many times do I gotta tell you to call me Coop?” he says, digging through some drawers until he finds what he’s searching for: a lighter. “It must be a million and one by now.”
Flint sparks as flames jump, eating away at the end of a cigarette. Cooper inhales in short little puffs, pulling on the filter. His cheeks hollow, the shadows enhancing the cut of his jaw before the tip catches alight.
“Well,” he exhales, his gaze catching yours through a plume of smoke as he turns, brow raised. “Anything to say for yourself?”
“Old habits die hard, I guess,” you chuckle.
The corner of his mouth lifts in a lopsided smirk. “I’ll drink to that.” He knocks back the last finger of whiskey before refilling with gin.
Springs groan in protest when he drops to the couch, settling in with an outstretched arm and wide spread thighs.
“It’s been a long fucking day,” he rasps.
Gulping, you try to ignore the space at his feet.
The stirrings of desire provoked by the urge to sink to your knees and fill it with your body, to ease tension from those shoulders with your hands, your mouth, your cunt — if he’d let you.
“You heading home?” Nursing the fresh drink, he swallows a mouthful, only to hiss low through his teeth at the chemical burn. His throat bobs, framed by the open collar of his shirt. “Whew! Goddamn, that’s strong.”
“No, I can stay for a while.” A bird on a wire, you perch on the cushion beside him. “Got nothing else planned for tonight, anyhow.”
Cooper snorts. “I doubt that very much. A sweet young thing like you,” he motions towards you with his glass, “I’m sure you’ve got plenty of fellas calling, especially on a Friday night. Don’t waste your time with me.”
“That’s not why I--” you stop yourself short.
Save for the bustling LA avenue right outside the complex, the apartment itself is stone silent for several heartbeats. Words hover on the back of your tongue, catching in the bend of your throat molasses thick.
Meanwhile, Cooper continues to swirl the alcohol in his glass.
Maybe in a different life, you wouldn’t hesitate to express yourself.
But here — with him — you shouldn’t.
Christ sake, he’s a grieving divorcé, you chastise yourself. The last thing he needs is me trying to lay one on him.
When you speak, his name glides off your lips for the first time, clementine sweet, “... Cooper, I’m not wasting my time. I enjoy spending it with Janey - and you.”
“Well,” he husks, hooded eyes dragging down your visage in a slow once-over, “you’re the first one in a long while to feel that way, sweetheart.”
Dripping like honey whiskey from Cooper’s lips, the simple phrase burns its way down-down-down until it blooms like liquid fire in your belly. Warms you all the way to your toes as your heart pounds against your ribcage.
“I mean it.” Your knuckles twist in the pleats of your sundress, bolts of blue fabric bunched around your knees. “Everything I do is because I want to.”
The flash of red nails plucking at the sheer nylon of your stockings snaps up his attention, his gaze snagging - staying as he chases the curve of your exposed leg, hungry.
He wets his lips, and tenses his jaw when he spots how the soft fat of your thigh dimples in because of your garter. “That’s awful sweet of you to say.”
You tremble beneath the intensity of his attention.
Greedy.
Little kisses of awareness spark bright along the path his eyes carve like the caress of shy fingertips.
However, before you’re able to confront him about his interest, the heat leaches from his expression, grows mute and cold like a muzzled dog. 
Readjusting the waistband of his slacks with a tug, he says, “I know you got better things to do than keep an old man company.”
Irritation sparks. “Cooper--”
“If this is about paying you for tonight,” his lips quirk into a sheepish smile, “I won’t be able to yet.” He scrubs a hand through the stubble peppered along his jaw. “The gig tonight didn’t… Well, it doesn’t matter.”
“No, that’s not what I --”
He plows on, “Anyway, the one I’ve got tomorrow should be enough. How about I stop by around seven o’clock? I’ll treat you to dinner as an apology.”
Frustration bubbles beneath the surface of your skin, antagonism thrumming through your veins. Your hands shake almost as much as your voice. “Cooper!”
“I… uh, yes?” He blinks.
Your brows furrow. “You don’t get it,” you say. “I mean, you truly don’t know?”
“I’m afraid there’s a lot I don’t get. You’re gonna have to be more particular.”
Maybe not said in so many words (or at all) but actions speak far louder.
Otherwise, why else would you spend most of your time in his apartment, fill every spare moment with Janey, and reserve evenings for his company?
Hell, you even cook and clean!
Almost scream your interest from the rooftops, and it’s obvious to everyone but him, it seems.
Here you are thinking he was preserving your dignity whenever he ignored a passing comment or lingering touch when, in fact, he’d been oblivious to their existence to begin with.
How a man can be so obtuse when you’re throwing yourself at him is beyond you.
If he wasn’t so captivating…
“Are you kidding me,” you ask, mindful of your tone, “how could you not know?” You throw your hands in the air. “I’ve been — for months!”
“Well, I don’t have a goddamn clue what you’re talking about, sweetheart,” he snarks, setting his glass on the table. “Care to enlighten me?”
Fine. If that’s how he wants to play, let’s play.
When he moves to take another drag from his cigarette, you strike, fingers locking around his wrist mid-lift. And although his glassy eyes narrow, he keeps his hand still.
Waiting to see what you'll do.
Tucking your knee under you for balance, you bend forward and watch his face from beneath your lashes. When your lips wrap around the filter, a dark hunger bleeds into his expression, his pulse a steady thud against the pad of your thumb.
Inhaling, the cherry lights up, a flashbang in the dim overhead light.
Cooper’s breath hitches, and then you’re pulling away with a lungful of smoke; the taste of ash heavy on your tongue.
He tracks your movements with greed, gaze flicking for the briefest of moments past your chin before refocusing on the ring of red lipstick staining white paper.
“If you wanted one,” he chokes, gripping the back of the couch with white knuckles, “all you had to do was ask.”
With a coquettish grin, you exhale to the side and stare at him with hooded eyes. “Is that so?” Plucking the cigarette out of his limp hold, you stub it out in the ashtray. “What if I wanted to ask for something else, Mr. Howard?”
The next moment finds you deposited in his lap, his hands shooting out to grab at your waist only to freeze before they make contact.
“Woah! I--”
“Tell me something.”
Your lips caress the shell of his ear, sharing breath - sharing space as you plaster yourself to his front, arms looped over his shoulders. He jolts, body trembling with restraint.
“Would you give me what I wanted if I said please?”
The distance between you snaps taut with anticipation. “C-Coop,” he stutters. “Call me Coop.”
You hum. “Well, Coop, would you?”
“That depends almost entirely on what you’re asking for, sweetheart.”
Red nails skate along the back of his neck, play in the downy soft hair of his nape just to feel him shiver. And then you’re leaning back with your hands braced on his knees, your legs falling open in invitation.
The hem of your dress bunches around your waist, exposing the soft cotton of your underwear, and the darkened patch of slick soaking through.
“I think you know exactly what I want,” you purr. “Because you want it too. Don’t you?”
He bites down on a strangled moan when your hips arch forward, rocking the soft plush of your ass against the heavy weight of his thickening cock. The zipper digs into your skin as he tents the front of his slacks.
Mouth dropping open, his tongue flicks out to wet his lips - a slick circle of temptation that makes you clench. “I, uh, I don’t…”
Reaching between your splayed thighs, you hook a finger beneath your panties and pull the fabric aside. He jerks forward, exhaling hard at the flash of your soaked cunt and twitching clit.
“C’mon, be honest.”
With a sigh, you gather your arousal on the tips of your fingers.
Cooper’s gaze is a heavy weight pinning you in place as you pretend it’s him dragging his knuckles over the top of your mond. Him dragging calloused fingers up along sticky folds to play with your sensitive clit, ripping soft little mewls from your lips.
“Can’t you see what you do to me, Coop?” you say, pulling your hand away to show the webs of slick stretching between your fingers. “I’m so wet. Please, I’ve wanted you for so long…”
His hips rock against your ass in an aborted thrust. “Shit - shit!” Eyes slamming shut, he grits his teeth and digs his fingers into your sides hard enough to bruise. “We really, uh, shouldn’t - oh fuck, you look --”
“Why not?” Your hand brushes over his groin. “I can feel how hard you are.”
“It isn’t right, that’s why.” He stutters, stumbles over his words, “Besides, Janey…”
“I can be quiet,” you say, lips trembling. “I promise.”
“Goddamnit, you can’t say things like that and expect me not to --” Cutting himself off, strong fingers seize your chin and tilt until you’re met with Cooper’s severe expression, his scorching gaze. “You need to tell me now: are you sure this is what you want?”
There’s no hesitation, “Yes.”
In what world would you refuse?
The words barely pass your lips before Cooper’s bowing his dark head, mouth ravenous as it captures yours in a slick glide of bruising lips and hungry tongues.
He steals your breath, licks into your mouth and traces along the sensitive inside of your lip.
Pulse jump starting, your toes curl over the edge of the cushion and your thighs squeeze the barrel of his chest, kneecaps digging into his ribs.
“Oh,” a moan punches itself out of your throat - a breathy little thing swallowed up by his lips. “That’s--”
Anticipation swells, simmers between you like a band before it snaps. A strong forearm locks around your waist, tugging you into the cradle of his chest until you’re plastered from stem to stern.
Too hungry for tenderness as his free hand slips up to cup the back of your head, fingers catching in the briar of your hair and tugging at the roots.
You claw at his shoulders while sparks of pain ricochet down your neck, sufficing into a prickly flush that heats your blood. “Hnn, Cooper,” you gasp.
He murmurs your name through languid flicks of his tongue and sharp little nips of skin that leave your mouth tender and swollen. When he pulls away to survey his handiwork, his eyes are dark. Fathomless.
"I never thought I'd get the chance to kiss you like this," he says, wicking his thumb over the pillow of your bottom lip. "You taste as good as I imagined."
Dragging your nails across his scalp, you plead, “No more teasing - I can't take it.”
"Well," he grunts, fingers twisting up in your dress, “If that’s how you feel, then you better put those hips to good use and work for it, sweetheart."
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part 2 dropping soon
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mazamba · 2 days
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Baby Steps
Dani slurped her milkshake noisily as she shifted back to the visible spectrum, interrupting the argument between the so-called adults. It'd been a hectic week, she'd been part of Young Justice for less than a week, yet they already had a crisis in the form of a maybe-evil clone.
"Do you mind?" growled Batman.
"Try a different word."
Superman raised an eyebrow.
""Father" is too heavy, try "brother" instead," she continued, "I mean, Phantom's technically my dad, but I don't call him that. He's my 'cuz!"
"What we call each other isn't the problem."
"No, but it's less scary isn't it? Danny was fifteen when I met him. Imagine if I'd called him dad. He'd have freaked out!"
Batman nodded, seeing the logic.
"And even then, I kinda needed some time to put my head together, you know?" she rattled on, floating crisscross applesauce in midair like a balloon in the breeze, "It's the real reason I left the first time. Maybe some time apart would be good for them? Microdose in family!"
"What we call each other isn't even half of the problem," sighed Superman, "you're a clone too, right? You once told me it was weird to know things you didn't remember learning. Clones are made and programed, sometimes with sleeper programming."
"True, but that's what we're here for," she figured, "I mean, I can't take you on, but Superboy's a different story. If he does go nuts, he has the whole Junior League to take care of him."
"I can't ask you to put yourself in danger."
"You're not, I'm volunteering," figured Stray, finally floating down to the ground, "look, Phantom and I work because we took the time to figure out who we are to each other. You two need time to figure out what you are, not get shoved together and hope for the best."
Batman grunted.
"This is a shock, it was a shock for Danny too. Sa- A mutual friend told me he had a panic attack an hour after I left. Started looking into childcare and stuff. She had to stop him from running after me with a diaper bag and they both crashed into a tree. Tu- a different friend sent me a picture."
"Your point?" sighed the Bat.
"I just said it? Forcing things helps no one. Just... put them in general proximity of each other and let the cards lay where they may. I know what you want to help Superboy, but forcing them into a get along shirt is just gonna hurt them both. You have to think of Superman too."
"And if he does go rogue?"
"Then we stop him."
"That easy?"
"That easy."
Superman sighed. As much as he hated to admit it, the whole situation was a lot less scary by simply changing the word. And what Stray said made sense, in a roundabout sort of way.
For his part, Batman was mentally kicking himself for hyper-focusing on Superboy's needs without taking Clark's feelings into consideration.
"We'll go with your plan," he agreed, "Superman, I'll need you to have a word with Black Canary. She will mediate with you and Superboy whenever you wish to meet, but I need you both to agree to this before we move forward."
"And if we can't?"
"Then he'll have to get adopted into somewhere else," figured Dani, sitting in midair again, "nothing good will happen if we just dump him on you. Neither one of you deserve what happened."
---
I'm sick of people dumping on Clark. Considering how he and the others live, I can't blame him for being suspicious.
Some other guy got replaced by a clone that didn't even know he was a clone. It wouldn't be that weird for Connor to have sleeper programming.
If anything, this is on Batman and the others for trying to force a relationship.
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glitterjay · 1 day
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lover boy — 양정원 YJW
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genre: opposites attract, good boy!jungwon x popular!reader (fem), college au, semi smau, d!e/kys jokes
taglist: @hollyoongs @moon7jay @wondipity @defnotfertilizedtoesw @kwiwin
note: hihi! check this out as well! its about another project of mine, hehe
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"let yourself go, jungwon"
those words seemed to live rent-free in the boy's head for the rest of the class. he had met you during one of his class exchanges, when he switched with someone else because his schedule didn't fit his work hours, causing him to miss class most of the time.
you guys were close, to say the least, but very different. jungwon was quiet, always in his own world or tending to his gardening club. you, on the other hand, were popular enough to be known by quite a few people.
the fact that some of his classmates had asked him for "tips" as soon as he walked in to his 9am class had him wondering if pulling an all nighter the day before was actually worth it. to his dismay, he found out he was not hallucinating when others asked the same question.
his friend, sunoo, told him about the rumors going around. apparently, some guys were gossiping with their girlfriends about how jungwon and that one girl who was always mean to him were actually dating.
it was true; he had to let go a bit. even his own friends had said so a million times, but coming from you? it was different. he sighed when class was dismissed, waving sunoo off with his hand. too much socializing had him tired, and hearing his name being whispered everywhere only added weight to his shoulders.
it was normal for the both of you to get lunch right after your first class. your schedules were similar, with your next class starting an hour later than his. you had always treated him the way you did, and he knew it was lighthearted. it went with how you were as a person, actually being quite friendly outside of college.
it just seemed easier to you to bother him because of his opposite personality. you showed your affection teasing him all the time, but truth to be told, you found him cute. mesmerizing even.
"hey, lover boy," you greeted, waving your hand in the air enthusiastically. jungwon only sighed, giving up on trying to stop you from calling him that. you had given him that nickname back when he told you the story of his first crush.
"can we just go get lunch? my head is pounding."
jungwon brushed past you, his shoulder slightly hitting yours as he walked by. you didn't think this would cause so much stress on him, so now you felt guilty to even accompany him to lunch.
-
the walk to the convenience store and back was quiet. jungwon seemed lost in his thoughts, his eyebrows furrowing every now and then. it seemed as if he was having a fight with himself. you checked your phone to see the time, realizing it was almost time for his class.
biting the inside of your cheek, you grabbed jungwon by the shoulder, stopping him in his tracks.
"look, im sorry if all of this made you uncomfortable, i'll try to fix every-"
you were cut off when both of his hands grabbed your shoulders, pulling you into a quick kiss.
"you want to see a lover boy? then you'll get a lover boy. we're dating after all, right?
© glitterjay | tumblr
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starlit-typewriter · 3 days
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Genshin SAGAU, Creator of Teyvat, but not Humanity Part 1
Playing around with the idea of The creator of Teyvat, not being the creator of humanity.
| Next Part
~~~
You were never much of a gamer.
Not that you disliked games of course, but it never quite clicked with you the way it did others. You’d try a couple of games on and off, but there would always be a point where it’d become boring.
Not that there was anything bad about the games themselves, you freely complimented the design and effort it goes into making these masterful pieces of art and code.
You just, weren't a gamer.
Until Genshin Impact
You can still remember the day you heard of it.
You were chatting with friends and one of them brought up this new game they saw a promotion for that they were interested in trying.
It was this anime-esque gacha game.
They showed you a couple trailers and promotional materials, and you must admit they were quite appealing.
However you didn’t intend to try it, knowing that you’d eventually drop it and move on.
But your friend still pestered you, claiming that there’s no harm in trying and dropping another game, after all it’s free anyways, so you’re not losing out on anything monetary.
Skeptical, you joined them in trying out the game.
And
Well
Let’s just say your friend got more than a couple of “I told you so’s” that day
It was beautiful.
The art, the music, the characters.
Everything about this game just, clicked.
You understand why people got so obsessed with certain games.
Why they would be willing to pay for things such as this.
Why this is such a large industry.
It’s, well it’s fun.
It was honestly quite frightening how quickly the game pulled you in.
You never understood the term “completionist”, until it started to apply to you.
Every quest, every domain, every achievement
You did it all
Every dialogue, every story, every entry in the archive.
You read it all.
You scoured the forums for bits of lore, and shrieked with your friend every time something new was dropped.
Genshin was all consuming.
It was honestly quite concerning, if it weren’t for the fact it was time gated with its resin cap and limited content, your outside life probably would’ve suffered.
On some level you probably knew that this was not normal. Your friends who were all gamers as well were never as obsessed over a single game as you were over Genshin.
But you reassured yourself, this is the first game that made you feel this way, its natural for you to go a little overboard.
I’m sure it’ll die down as I try out other games.
But you never really did.
No other game, no matter how popular or similar or highly rated.
Other games from Hoyoverse fared slightly better in terms of attention span.
But you always went back to Genshin.
Not that it bothered you.
Genshin was enough, considering you still had real world responsibilities to balance.
And that was that.
Until, well.
Until Fontaine.
You see, you’d always enjoyed the characters of Teyvat.
But you’ve never quite simped after them the way the fanbase did.
You admired their aesthetics and enjoyed their stories. But they never quite drew you in.
Even your main, was quite honestly determined by meta and whatever character you’ve managed to get your hands on.
There was never a “waifu” or “husbando”.
It was always the world and story that drew you in rather than individual characters.
Iudex Neuvillette was an exception.
The exception
He felt right.
You immediately knew you had to pull for him.
So you did.
And playing him was amazing. He was as meta breaking as you’d hoped and, well, you just liked him.
“Your first official Husbando” your friends would tease. You understand why they would go such lengths for a specific character now.
He was special.
He was a Dragon.
He felt, right.
You quite never understood why
Not until you entered the world of Teyvat.
That story,
Well,
That begins from the other side of the screen.
~~~
“I bet we can definitely open up a whole new sector in Fontaine if all goes well don't you think?” Hu Tao chattered as she and Zhongli strolled back to Liyue Harbor.
Zhongli hummed in agreement, only half paying attention to the conversation. He could tell Hu Tao noticed, since she was keeping the topic of conversation to light topics that anyone with half a mind could parse through. Only enough relevance so that he wouldn’t get lost in thought, but not so much that he had to focus on the conversation.
She was considerate like that, he knew since she had let many of his oddities slide, especially when he was still adjusting to mortal life.
Not that he was free from old habits mind you.
Zhongli doubted he would ever truly be able to blend into a crowd of mortal without some level of adept arts concealing his presence, however he was able to blend in enough so that the average nosy person was able to wave off his eccentricities a simply a facet of his personality rather than something deeper.
He cannot forget that it was thanks to people such as Hu Tao who were willing to let him in without many questions that allowed him to get to this point. Something he will be forever grateful for.
Be that as it may, it did not change the fact that some things will forever be kept secret.
His near encounter with the Hydro dragon for one.
Even from the other side of Qiaoying village where he’d made himself scarce, he could feel the amount of blessings placed upon the man.
He truly was favored by the creator.
Not that that was any surprise.
What was surprising was his own blessing.
Though much smaller, he still treasured the gift given to him by the creator of Teyvat.
Teyvat, after all, was a world of Dragons.
It was due to the advent of The Primordial One, did they lose their authority.
Not that many people knew.
Most people didn’t
The true History and creation of Teyvat was kept tightly wrapped, even the most learned scholars of the Akademiya could only infer at what truly happened, as well as the origin of humanity.
The true name of the creator was lost to time, only their title of the creator of Teyvat remaining. The mortals who lived on Teyvat daren’t give them another for fear of evoking their wrath.
They had plenty to be wrathful about.
Zhongli would only imagine his own rage, if anything similar happened to Liyue.
Imagine putting in centuries upon centuries of work only for an outsider to come in, destroy your work and reshape it for their own people. Before proceeding to have the audacity to name him as a contributor to their success and praise alongside such an usurper.
Just imagining it makes him angry.
That is why, the creator’s title is rarely evoked.
Names have power after all.
Names of gods even more so.
To evoke their name, their title, is to ask for attention.
Attention that would be safer left elsewhere.
Not that mortals knew the true reason.
The commonly accepted reasoning was that the creator of Teyvat has long turned their gaze elsewhere, satisfied with the current ruling of Teyvat, having entrusted their powers to Celestia and the Archons.
Zhongli would feel guilt at this blatant lie and rewriting of history if he could.
But he cannot, because to feel guilt would be to regret his actions and to wish something was different.
But he knew that he, along with all of humanity, Liyue Harbor, his Adepti and friends. They would not have existed, they would not have lived, has history played out justly.
The world is not just.
The world simply is.
He feared to an extent that the Hydro dragons would try to force a more cruel version of justice upon Fontaine, condemning them all as usurpers, when they had no idea, or even power over what had happened in the past.
Thankfully it seems that Focalors’s plan to integrate him into humanity worked. Stemming any sort of “justice” he may enact on humanity for the crimes of The Primordial One. In fact, he seems to have great fondness over humanity, absolving them of their sin and saving them from the prophecy that threatened Fontaine for so many centuries.
However, he knew that he was exempt from this mercy. Zhongli knew that when the time came, the Hydro dragon, or well Iudex Neuvillette would spare no effort in holding him accountable for his actions in usurping the original order of Teyvat.
Which is exactly why he avoided the man, dragon? as he did.
“-ello, earth to Zhongli, ”
Zhongli blinked, Hu Tao’s voice dragging him back to their situation at hand.
“Ah, my apologies, I seemed to have been lost in thought”
She clicked her tongue at him, “Aiyyaa, honestly Zhongli, I wonder sometimes if your age is getting to you, I was trying to get your attention for quite a while”
“Is that so,”
Zhongli couldn’t help but smile at her exaggerated groan.
“I was merely thinking about some old history,” he started, preparing himself to finish the history of Qiaoying village that he was telling Hu Tao on their way over.
“Oh no, there’s no need for that,” she waved off, a slight grimace on her face.
He knew how bored she was by the story the way over, so it served as a perfect distraction on the way back to stop her from questioning any further.
“Honestly a girl can only listen so much about the different varieties of teas and their subtle notes and flavoring before she has to burst yo know,” she complained.
“Well, the history of tea has a -”
“Oh look we’re almost there!” She pointed out, most likely in a desperate bid to stop him from droning on.
He was being slightly unfair to her, he knows, but it never ceases to become unassuming when people try to fake interest in a topic, only to regret it when they realize just how much there is to know about it.
Of course it can never compare to when someone has a genuine passion for the topic and wants to engage further, but those mortals are rare.
More often than not, he can use his vast knowledge as a smokescreen too, well, as Paimon would most likely put it. Bore people into leaving him alone.
He waves off Hu Tao as she bounces back home, and allows himself to take a stroll through the streets of Liyue Harbor.
The Lantern Rite was ending, another celebration successfully done under the hard work of the Qixing
He gazed around at all the sights, the lanterns, the food stalls, the beautiful atmosphere of people enjoying the celebration.
No
He could never regret what he did.
Not since it lead to peace and happiness like this.
And
If things are as he suspects.
He may never have too.
He feels it once more.
The glow of the creator's blessing.
He can feel it swirling within him as he steps through Liyue Harbor.
He wonders if they can see it as he does. Sees the beauty and resplendence of humanity.
Look, he wants to scream
They are nothing like The Primordial One
They are good, kind and beautiful.
Humans may not be your creation, they may not have originated from this world but that does not mean they do not deserve to stay.
But he doesn’t
First of all because he feels that screaming these things in the middle of a busy street may attract some weird looks.
But also out of fear, fear that any attempt to disrupt this fragile peace could lead to destruction.
Because it is fragile, it has only been a couple of years since the creator has turned their eyes to Teyvat.
Those who have been blessed have been careful in their own way not to destroy this chance that the creator has given them.
A chance to prove themselves, not only as people deserving of their attention and blessing, but as a people.
To prove themselves just as worthy of the dragons of staying in Teyvat.
Because they all know, in their hearts of hearts, that what the creator has created, they could just as easily destroy.
While some may tease him for his age, there is no denying that with age comes experiences that the younger generation may never know.
He himself, whilst having been born long after the disappearance of the creator, witnessed firsthand how it had affected the world.
How Godly remains tainted the earth for far longer than it used to.
How miasma and abyssal energy started to leak forth.
How Leyline disorders became more and more commonplace.
Teyvat was breaking.
It was falling apart.
But perhaps.
With this new chance, it could be fixed.
He could still remember the day the creator first turned their gaze upon Teyvat.
Or well, more specifically, the first time they turned their gaze on him.
He had heard rumors of an outlander from Mondstatdt making their way to Liyue. Tales of their feats and defeating Dvalin with the wayward Anemo Archon were as prevalent as talks about the upcoming Rite of Descension.
He had taken note of it of course, outlanders were rare after all, but he hadn’t expected this one to be quite, consequential.
Not until he met them.
He felt their approach funnily enough, the unbranded aura they carried within them. While he could’ve written it off as an aspect of their outlander status, internally he knew it not to be true.
He was far too young to have ever met the creator, or even the original dragons.
But he has stumbled upon their remnants.
Pure remnants, unlike the gnosis which have been twisted and altered by the time it had spent in the hands of The Primordial One.
It was, indescribable.
Free, yet grounded.
Unwavering yet fluid.
Swift yet languid.
It
It simply was
It was the essence of Teyvat.
The essence of the land he lived and fought and bled and laughed in.
How could he not worship it.
How could he not fear it.
He had felt Childe walk in with bated breath, distracting himself with his cup of tea to settle his nerves.
What did this mean?
Was this the end of Liyue, of humanity, of Teyvat?
Over the centuries people have accepted the creator’s complacency in the affairs of Teyvat.
What does it now mean that they have focused their gaze once more on this land.
Destruction
Salvation
He daren’t hope or guess.
But
Well,
The Traveler was kind.
They had no ill will towards the people of Teyvat.
While it was clear they had their own mission to stove for, they did not hesitate in helping those they can along the way.
If the creator has blessed one such as them, one so kind to humans, one with no ill will.
Perhaps.
A seed of hope planted itself in him, and refused to budge.
As time went on, the seed grew.
Hope grew.
The tiny seed of hope that he tried so hard to ignore and deny could be ignored no longer when he received a blessing himself.
He could still remember it so clearly.
It was a normal day, nothing out of the ordinary. He went to work, had tea, chatted with passersby.
There were no great feats.
No great revelations, or offerings.
Yet he felt it for the first time.
A blessing.
A pure, gentle, powerful blessing.
He could feel the sentiment behind it, weak as it was.
Relief, excitement, apprehension.
He wanted to cry, to pray. To thank them for giving him a chance, for giving the people of Teyvat a chance.
But fear held him back.
It still does to this day.
That’s the problem with gods, their pleasure and their wrath can often look the same.
Even as he compared notes with Barbatos and the Adepti, confirming that many of them have been given blessings.
While some like Ganyu, rejoiced in this blessing eager for a chance to prove themselves worthy of this world.
People such as him were still fearful.
Fearful of what this meant and what they wanted.
The straw that broke the camel’s back was when he realized that xiangling was also blessed.
Not that the girl knew, after all the creator was very rarely spoken of, only ever mentioned in ancient rites and the most descriptive of history books.
But she had the blessing, a human.
From that point he saw so many others, so many humans, mere mortals given their divine blessing and gaze.
An exorcist, an author, a member of the Qixing.
It spread across Teyvat, whispers as people soon realized that there was a god, an unknown god blessing them.
Granting them abilities beyond their visions, oftentimes enhancing them to levels beyond previously known human limits.
No one dared to say their name, they were insinuations, and speculations, but no one dared disturbed the fragile peace that has settled.
It is an understanding between those who have it.
Those who know, know and those who don’t are kept in the dark.
But it seems that the Creator has turned their gaze to Teyvat and to humans.
~~~~
| Next Part
~~~~
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A Shift Occurs {part 4.} (housemate!harry series) (SMUT)
Friends Who Share Mutual Emotions {part 3.} (housemate!harry series)
AN: excited to be putting out a smutty fic since i haven't in a while. i hope you enjoy part 4. feel free to help put inspo into this series by sending me things you'd like to see happen in this story. remember to reblog and leave your feedback. enjoy!!!
This story contains: fluff, smut, handjob and male receiving oral, talks of using vibrator
{ housemate!harry - softrry - friend!harry - au harry - harry's occupation is a teacher }
word count- 2,373
Your friendship is progressing quicker than anticipated and when Harry wakes up with morning wood, you decide to help his situation out.
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It's been three days since the mutual confessions of your feelings and to be completely honest, there has been little change as far as how the two of you interact. Apart from the absence of casual encounters, daily routines within the house remain unchanged from the time when you were merely housemates and just friends. But, you have noticed some subtle differences.
On Saturday night, you followed your usual routine. As the clock struck seven, you opted for Chinese take-out and settled on the couch to watch a movie. Eventually fatigue overcame you and you made the choice to call it a night. Although you had shared a bed earlier in the day during the morning nap, you believed that spending an entire night together would be rushing things, so you decided to go your separate ways.
However, following an hour of restlessness, Harry reached a point where he could no longer bear it. He rose from his bed and made his way across the hallway to your room. Being polite, he softly tapped on the door and upon hearing the invitation, "Come in," he cautiously entered. The room was dimly lit, but the moonlight filtering through the window provided just enough illumination for him to see your confused silhouette.
Curiously, you questioned, "Har... what are you doing?" while observing Harry confidently approaching your unoccupied side of the bed, dressed in only a pair of black boxer briefs. Without seeking consent, he smoothly pulled back the duvet and comfortably nestled himself beside you.
"Couldn't sleep." Harry answered before continuing, "Ever since this mornin' where we took that nap together and cuddled, I realized just how much I love sharing a bed and cuddlin' with someone. Hope this was alright."
Looking over at him as he got settled under the blankets, you replied, "Yeah, it's fine. Just thought you wanted to take this whole thing slow s'all."
"Y/n, when I said we should take our relationship slow, I meant sex. Sharing a bed and cuddlin' doesn't have to equal sex. It's purely platonic." At Harry's words, you had mixed emotions. Yes you agreed in wanting to take your progressive friendship at a slow pace but on the other hand, you also want to jump his bones every time you look into his grassy green eyes.
Since Harry was the one to take the brave step in coming into your bedroom, you made the brave step in sliding over until your body was right next to his. Quietly, you asked, "Big spoon or little spoon?"
Shyly giggling, Harry answered, "Little spoon."
"Okay, turn on your side for me." He did as told and you tightly wrapped your body around his back and hugged him to your chest. Just like Harry, you're a big cuddler too. Hence why most of the time you allowed your one-night stands to sleep over. Just to have a cuddle partner throughout the night.
The restlessness Harry had at the start of the night was now gone as you spooned him and sleep followed shortly after.
---------------------------
Every night since Saturday night you've shared a bed together. Either you sleep in Harry's bed or he sleeps in yours. It's become routine at this point and you both find comfort in sleeping together. Nothing more has happened in your developing relationship. Besides the accidently touch of your clothed boobs or the time your knee accidently grazed Harry's covered cock sometime throughout the night.
On the following Sunday morning though, a shift occurs. As you awaken, you find yourself nestled in Harry's bed, with his body curled around yours. The gentle exhalations of his warm breath brush against your neck, while his chest presses against your back. However, amidst this intimate embrace, you also become aware of another sensation. Something is prodding against your ass. You aren't oblivious to its nature, yet you find yourself uncertain about how to go about this situation.
It's a dilemma whether to ignore Harry's morning boner or to assist his problem in order to potentially advance your relationship. You don't want to make him feel uncomfortable, but also ponder if his desire to take things slow is actually for your benefit. Perhaps Harry is being cautious for your sake, and he might be ready to take your friendship to the next level.
Allowing desire to take over your judgement, you slowly back your bum up against his hardened cock and subtly move your hips, hoping the feeling gives him some sort of relief. Approximately thirty seconds go by before you hear a deep grunt coming from behind you. Then suddenly you feel Harry's body jump back until you're no longer touching one another.
You decide to turn around so you're facing his direction and once you get a good look at him, you see his large hand covering his face in what you presume is embarrassment. "Um, sorry 'bout that." Harry mummers aloud. He has no control over getting an erection in his sleep and the fact it happened while spooning you, it's so embarrassing for you to witness.
"Hey," you coo softly, scooting closer to his body, "you don't need to be embarrassed. It happens and it's natural. You know, I don't mind helping you out if you want."
Harry finally takes his hand away from his face and turns his head to look at you. "Y/n, what about the takin' it slow thing?"
"Harry, you also shared the importance of things moving naturally and I'd say they are. If things naturally progress fast then we should allow it instead of ignoring it. I don't mind helping your problem out. Know you must be aching." Once you're finished speaking, you place your hand on his bare belly and teasingly drag your fingers lower and lower. "Only if you're comfortable with that idea."
His longing for your touch surpasses everything else and he nods, uttering, "Um, yeah. If you want, you can help." Now assured of his agreement, you gradually move your fingers downwards until they reach the edge of his boxers. Before proceeding further, you steal a quick glance at Harry's face, searching for any hesitation, but there are none. With certainty, you slip your fingers beneath the elastic band encircling his narrow hips.
Your fingers pass over the patch of trimmed hairs before finally bumping into the hardness you felt against your ass a couple minutes prior. Carefully and without seeing, you take ahold of his morning wood and began to tug gently at his foreskin. This isn't your first rodeo. You know what your doing. You just hope Harry's enjoying what you're doing. And by the looks of it, he is.
Harry's leaning against his pillow, head thrown back, and a quiet gasp escapes his throat. The feeling of your hand wrapped around his cock exceeds all the fantasies he had while pleasuring himself and imagining your touch.
As you skillfully stroke him with your dominant hand, an overwhelming surge of arousal consumes you, causing your clitoris to pulsate with need. Despite the almost unbearable sensation, you set aside your own desires, dedicating yourself entirely to Harry's pleasure.
The room begins to get hot and stuffy so Harry reaches down to toss the covers off his lap. This gives you a better view of your hand down his briefs. After a few minutes of stroking his dick in your hand, you start feeling some resistant and realize the dryness may be uncomfortable for Harry. You could retreat your hand and lick your palm before going back to the handjob. Or, you could do something even better.
In one swift motion, you pull your hand out of Harry's underwear and crawl between his spread thighs. Now on your knees in front of his lying figure, you lean over his lap and tug the fabric down until it's cradled under his enlarged balls. "What are you......" he goes to ask but you cut him off.
"Shhh." You crouch down and glide your tongue over a thick vein along his shaft. He's larger than you imagined. You had an inkling of his size from how thick and heavy he felt in your hands, but now, face to face with it, he's huge. And it's not just huge, it's also aesthetically pleasing. The prettiest penis you've ever laid eyes on, and you wouldn't normally consider penises to be remarkably beautiful. It's no wonder why so many men and women enjoyed their nights with him.
A deep groan escapes Harry's lips as he's consumed by an overwhelming wave of pleasure, leaving him feeling dizzy. He never imagined you would go all out with a blowjob this morning. While a handjob is pleasurable, a blowjob is an even more exhilarating experience. You expertly guide his pulsating head to your lips and playfully flick your tongue over his sensitive slit. This action causes Harry to instinctively pull away, unable to bear the intense sensitivity.
In order to maintain his stability, you position your hands on both sides of his hips and decide you've teased long him enough. Gradually, you lower your head onto his large cock. However, as you reach approximately halfway down his length, he reaches the back of your throat, causing you to gag. Momentarily, you withdraw and apologize. "Sorry, it has been a while since I've gave a blowjob."
Harry lifts his head from the pillow and gently cups the sides of your face. "Don't worry about it. Just take it easy. You don't have to go all the way down and potentially make yourself sick. Just take what you can and it will still feel good f'me." He speaks from experience, having gave blowjobs before and knowing the struggle of trying to push beyond your limits. It only results in a sore throat and a stomach ache from gagging too much.
With a nod, you lean forward and proceed to take Harry into your mouth once again. Except this time you halt just before his tip reaches the back of your throat. Shifting one of your hands from his hip to the base of his penis, you skillfully maneuver your mouth up and down, while simultaneously twisting and tugging his shaft with your hand.
Harry thinks he's in heaven. He must be. Because nothing has ever felt this good before. None of his previous one-night stands has ever gave him this good of a blowjob. Not even the ones who could skillfully deepthroat him. Nor has any of his few actual relationships gave such a good blowjob. It must be the connection and feelings he has for you that's making this experience so amazing. It means more coming from you.
You suck and tug repeatedly until Harry is close to reaching orgasm in your mouth. Uncertain if you want him to come in your mouth, he alerts you, "Y/n... M' gonna come." Rather than withdrawing as he anticipates, you descend a bit further. This time, you successfully manage to control your gag reflex and intensify your sucking until you feel Harry releasing his warm cum in your mouth.
Harry tightly clutches his sheets, his hips involuntarily thrust upwards as he reaches his climax. You softly gag once but quickly regain your composure. He tastes better then some of the guys you've tasted before. It's a bit salty but doesn't have that pungent taste some men tend to have. Must be Harry's healthy diet.
Gradually, his limbs grow weak, and as his orgasm subsides, his body begins relaxing on the bed. You remove his wet and slippery cock from your mouth, observing Harry lying there, breathing heavily with his eyes firmly closed. Reeling what just happened.
With a croaky voice, you shyly question, "Was that good?"
"Was that good? Was it GOOD??" Harry repeats dramatically, "Oh my God, Y/n, best fuckin' blowjob I've ever had."
You playfully swat at his thighs. "Be serious, Harry."
Sitting up and tucking his limp penis back into his briefs, Harry continues his praises. "M' bein' very serious, Y/n. No one has ever made me come that hard. Not a one-night stand or any of the relationships I was in. You're a pro for sure."
For a moment the air feels heavy until you annonce, "Welp, I'm gonna go take a shower. I'm meeting up with some friends for brunch at noon."
In response, Harry mustered up a somewhat awkward reply, "Um, alright. Enjoy your shower." Left alone on his bed, Harry found himself half naked and still catching his breath from the intense orgasm he experienced a few minutes prior. He had intended to ask if he could reciprocate the favor, but you had already left before he had the chance too. It crossed his mind that perhaps you weren't interested in having the favor returned.
Maybe you don't particularly enjoy oral sex performed on you. Uncertain about your preferences, Harry's confident that if given the opportunity to perform cunnilingus on you, you'd undoubtedly fall in love with his skillful tongue. Just like the all the previous women who's praised his mouths abilities.
The truth is, you had desired Harry to return the favor. However, due to just waking up, you were unsure if your pussy smelled okay, let alone tasted alright. To avoid any negative response from him like you've had in the past from guys, you left before he could catch a glimpse of your moist cunt.
Nevertheless, because you're still experiencing a slight throb in your underwear, you discreetly brought one of your silicone vibrators into the shower to quickly satisfy yourself. Although you're certain that Harry's oral skills would have been superior, you'll have to wait a bit longer to get to experience that.
Once out of the shower, you dried off and got dressed to head out for the brunch you had planned with some friends. It was going to be at a small cafe in downtown London. As for Harry, he didn't really have any plans for today. Besides catching up on grading some tests his students took the Friday before. He hopes you're available tonight because he wishes to be able to spend more time with you. He loves spending time with you. He loves y..... Nope too soon for that.
(PLEASE REBLOG BECAUSE WRITING IS NOT EASY AND IT'S FREE SO JUST DO IT)
(no more tags are allowed because i've hit my number limit. sorry : ( )
tag list: @one-sweet-gubler // @harryscherrysugar // @hsfanficsrecss // @lollypopsx // @harrycanyonmoonn // @allthelovehes // @damnasstyles  // @mrsstylesharry // @softmullet  // @meetmyblondemuffins  // @thegirlnextdoorssister // @stanleystyles  // @haarrrys // @michellekstyles  // @skyangel57   // @the-gardener-31 // @lhharrylilpumpkin // @yousunshine-youtemptress // @clairestylessss  // @kissmyaxe140  // @goldenmelonsugar-hi // @kaitieskidmore97 // @florencepughily  // @alienorknight //@dancearoundthelivingroom  // @swiftmendeshoran
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My Masterlist Masterpost
Friends Who Share Mutual Emotions {part 3.} (housemate!harry series)
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chronicowboy · 1 day
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Omfgg do you think about how Buck and Eddie could get together and they're happy and giddy and they think they're gonna tell Chris first but then he just shuts down. Chris shuts down and says absolutely not and neither of them know what it's about because he won't SAY anything but Buck cannot handle hurting this kid so he tells Eddie they'll be fine but he should leave. And things are angst for a few days but then one day someone knocks on Buck's door and it's Chris. He hasn't told Eddie he was there, just like once before. Buck isn't going to push him so they just sit and it's quiet before Chris asks Buck if he loves him. Him not Eddie. Of course Buck loves Chris, he's not sure where this is coming from but then Chris says that his mom loved him too. Shannon loved him too but she loved Eddie first and when Eddie left, Chris wasn't enough to make her stay. When Ana and Eddie broke up, she didn't stay in touch with Chris. Because they all loved Eddie first. And Buck just has to sit there trying not to cry but then calls Eddie and tells him to come but also bring the Will. When Eddie is there, they tell Chris about the Will. They tell him about Buck being Chris' legal guardian no matter the circumstance. And Buck tells him that he loved Chris first, that he understood Eddie through Chris. That Chris had a right to Buck with or without Eddie dating Buck and Buck had legally bound himself to being there for him. And that Eddie did this because Buck has always loved Chris first. Things get resolved and Chris finally has concrete proof of what he will always have. His dad yes but also his Buck.
honestly anon i think about this all the time because it's like the most likely first conflict for them to introduce as buddie. the do we keep it a secret do we tell people stuff is interesting but honestly it's this that will probably be their first hurdle as a couple. because to use a tim minear buzz word it's the most authentic truthful story they could tell. like christopher's abandonment issues have been a huge part of his character right from season 2 and have only gotten worse as he's grown up but buck has been a fixture in his life this whole time and suddenly EVERYTHING is changing. it's going to be terrifying. and of course buck and eddie will gracefully bow out for the sake of their son - although i think not without having some very honest conversations first but gut reactions etc etc.
as for your scene specs well this is just CRUEL. anon hate is getting so intricate these days (/j). chris running to buck a la breaking point and asking if he loves him because everyone loved eddie first. why would you phrase it like that jesus? but yeah fuck. and buck reassuring him so completely that he may have met eddie first but he fell in love with chris long before he realised he was in love with eddie. reassuring him that yes they're a family unit the three of them, but the two of them will always exist as something unique themselves no matter what. fuck. fuck fuck fuck.
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neoniinu · 3 days
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no one asked, but here is my big speech about shinra/izaya friendship
i wanna start with their school selves
i saw a lot of people saying that izaya was normal at school and shinra just made him "bad", but in my view it's not the thing. like, in shool izaya already wasn't "normal", he just tried his best to pretend to be an ordinary student. he didn't make any close relationship, isolating himself from strong connections with people (just like he's doing it now), but still had to be in the society because of his interest in humas
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vol 9, ch 4
and this interest was already unhealthy, for example, he liked seeing people hurting each other
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vol 9, ch 4
shinra wasn't really different from his current self. he was obsessed with celty and she was the reason he made friends with izaya and he didn't really care about others or anything that surrounds him in general. he stayed in his comfort zone (love to celty) and was alright
as i said, shinra invited izaya to his biology club because celty told him to socialize
then, izaya became interested. because shinra's lifestyle was different and opposite of izaya's, especially because their different opinion on humans: izaya loved them, shinra didn't care but he loved celty who is not human, so izaya was genuinely interested in his personality
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vol 9, ch 4
then shinra was the only person who was a mystery to izaya, he couldn't predict shinra's actions and reactions and he was annoyed and facsinated about that at the same time
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epitome of eighteen stories, ep 15 (translation by xcaneolupusx)
speaking about shinra, he could understand izaya's nature perfectly
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vol 13, ch 11
so, izaya became interested in shinra and finally accepted his invitation to the biology club. everything starts here
izaya started feeling real attachment to shinra. now he was not just an interesting person, he was a friend. izaya felt free with him because they both were weird and shinra accepted izaya with all his strange hobbies and interests. their communication was full of mutual acceptance and they both were happy with it. but izaya's genuine attachment is really strong, as long as shinra preferred keeping distance with everyone except celty. not because he didn't like something about izaya nor he didn't care, it was just comfortable for him like that
the key thing: shinra being stabbed by nakura. i can talk about different aspects of this moment
for shinra it's just another proof of his crazy love for celty — he protected izaya mostly because he thought celty would praise him for such a heroic actions
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vol 9, epilogue
for izaya it was a complex thing. at first, he was shocked by being protected for the first time. at second, he felt jealous and that's what i find a really important thing. he felt jealous because shinra wasn't alone even if he's so uninterested in others. he had someone who he loved, he had someone to love him, he had important connections, basically he had things izaya didn't
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vol 9, epilogue
but despite everything, he still was a friend to izaya, so izaya wanted revenge. so, to my mind, this whole situation not made him who he is now, just gave him the reason to stop trying to conform and show his true self
eventually he promised to make nakura pay for this. shinra just agreed and gave izaya free reign. and izaya really kept his promise. 12 years passed and nakura is still suffering
izaya calls that nakura moment the turning point of his life and the thing that influenced his current self the most
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vol 9, epilogue
i see this part as the starting point for everything happening in the plot, because this was the moment when izaya finally decided what to do
when shinra and izaya finish school, they see each other more rarely. because it's not necessary to meet every day and they both have things to do. shinra happily lives with celty, again, staying in his comfort zone and izaya, who doesn't have any life and friends, is alone with his love for humans and crazy ideas. and still he thinks about shinra as a friend
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vol 9, ch 2
and shinra calls him a friend too
but shinra has priorities and celty is the most important of them, so when izaya calls him from the hospital, he just hangs up
shinra lives in his love and keeps distance with everyone else as always and izaya suffers with his attachment alone, because he can't and doesn't want to get rid of it. but he understands that he's the only one to blame in his state (because he chose such a life for himself) so he isn't angry at shinra. maybe just a bit
there is another important moment, when izaya thinks about shinra being mad at him, feels something like guilt and beats the telephone pole
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vol 9, epilogue
friendship with shinra is the closest relationship izaya has, but again, i can't blame shinra for his uncaring attitude. he treasures izaya and still accepts him and izaya's problems are not something shinra can solve
their relationship can't be seen through the prism of normal friendship because they both are extraordinary people with their own standards
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juniperskye · 2 days
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Why are you in my head? Pt. 4
Sneak Peek: Eddie and you are soulmates. The legend of soulmates is that you start to hear one another’s thoughts around age 16 – not all the time, but when you’re feeling a strong emotion. It simply flows out of you and into the other, the legend also states that the closer you are, the more you can hear them. **The events of season 4 did NOT happen** I did also use some of the dialogue
Bold are Eddie’s thoughts; Italics are reader’s thoughts. (mind you, they are essentially hearing both sets of thoughts)
Eddie Munson x Fem Sunshine! Reader (Soulmate AU)
Fluff/Smut - Part 1 Part 2 Part 3
Word count: 2070
REQUESTS ARE OPEN - not edited - please be kind. Feedback is welcome if it's constructive!
Warnings: READ AT YOUR OWN RISK!!! My blog is 18+, minors DNI, Smut, explicit language, no use of y/n, fem reader, unprotected sex (wrap it up people), Also reader doesn’t go to the bathroom after (always go to the bathroom after sex guys), let me know if I missed any!
That being said I do not own the characters portrayed in this story.
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Since you had shared your past with Eddie, things had been really good. It had truly been this big ugly thing just looming over you and now that it was gone, this whole soulmate thing was finally starting to feel like everyone had explained.
Since that night, Eddie and you were inseparable, you spent nearly every waking second together. You had initially worried that his friends would grow sick of you pretty quickly, but thankfully that hadn’t been the case. They had actually seemed quite fond of you.
Eddie had explained that they all liked you because you were just so lovable, but his friends had clued you into the truth behind their fondness. It could all be chalked up to the fact that you brought baked goods for everyone at lunch every Friday, you stood up for them similarly to Eddie, you were willing to chauffeur the younger kids around, and Eddie hadn’t been so hard on them in Hellfire since you’d been around.
Speaking of Hellfire, you were super excited because tonight was the first night you’d be sitting in on a campaign. You had wanted to sit in before, but Eddie had asked that you hold off for a while. He had told you that there was a new campaign that he had been working on and he wanted it to be the first one you witnessed!
This campaign would span over a few weeks of Hellfire Club meetings, but the gist of it was that the guys’ characters were trying to take down an evil ruler, there were quests along the way.
 You went about your day as usual, going from class to class. Eddie utilizes his free period on Fridays to set up the theater storage room, but then he made sure to meet you at your locker to escort you.
As you approach your locker you see Eddie standing there waiting.
Ugh you’re so freaking hot!
I can’t wait for you to finally see me be the Dungeon Master!
You couldn’t help but let out a small giggle as you finally came face to face with him. He pressed a sweet and sloppy kiss to your lips and slid out of the way so you could put your things in your locker. After doing so, Eddie slipped his hand into your own and led you down the halls to the room.
“Are you ready for this baby?” He questioned.
“Yes! I am so excited to see you in your element!” You gushed.
“Okay! Just uh, I can get a little intense, so…just be prepared.”
“What? You, Eddie Munson, intense? You could never!” You feigned surprise.
“Okay, okay, that’s enough! Let’s do this!” He laughed, nudging you into the room.
Eddie led you over to a chair sat right beside his throne at the head of the table. He gestured for you to sit down beside him and began organizing his notes as the boys began filtering in. The noise level rose significantly as each boy arrived. To anyone else, this would’ve been headache inducing, but you’d grown so accustomed to it that it was like white noise at this point.
 You watched with careful eyes as Eddie’s nimble fingers flipped through pages and pages of notes for this campaign. Your breath caught in your throat as he passed a sketch of a beautiful heroine, she was ethereal, and the sketch drew you in.
She’s beautiful!
She’s you.
Your eyes flashed upwards to meet Eddie’s gaze. He held a finger to his lips in a shush signal and sent a wink your way. Next thing you knew he was commanding the attention of the rest of the group and informed them it was time to begin.
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You were in complete and utter awe. Eddie was incredible, the way he commanded a room and just became the dungeon master. You couldn’t quite believe what you were witnessing in this moment. And even more so, you couldn’t believe what you were feeling. Especially in the apex of your thighs.
Eddie and you hadn’t slept together yet, you had talked about it, how neither of you were virgins, but you both had wanted to wait until the timing was right. And well, if this is how your body was going to react to him, then you were hoping that night would come sooner rather than later.
“And…That’s a MISS! So sorry my friend. You guys should discuss how you’d like to proceed.” Eddie Exclaimed.
Why is this turning me on? What the hell is wrong with me?
Eddie’s gaze shot over to you, he immediately noticed how flushed your cheeks and chest were, how your eyes were glazed over and your breathing was slightly labored. He couldn’t believe it; you were turned on by him being the dungeon master. In this moment he knew exactly why you were his soulmate.
You like that baby?
Your eyes met his, mortification flashing across your face. Eddie was quick to place his hand on your thigh to put your racing thoughts to rest. He gave you a subtle nod and leaned in close to whisper in your ear.
“It’s okay baby, as soon as we’re done here, I’ll take you home and take care of you.”  He nipped your earlobe.
Eddie hollered at the group, prompting them to make a choice so they could continue the campaign. He told them they were nearing a good stopping point for the evening. And everything after that was drowned out by the growing arousal within you.
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It felt like hours before the campaign ended. Before the guys were finally packing up their shit and Eddie was practically dragging you to his van.
He couldn’t get you guys home fast enough. Everything was moving so fast and while you were excited for this to finally be happening, you wanted to savor it.
We should slow down. Fuck. I don’t want to rush this.
“I was thinking the same thing.” You whispered.
Eddie pulled back and smiled at you. He grabbed your hand in his and slowly led you to his bedroom. The two of you sat on his bed and began making out, it was full of passion and love.
Eddie’s kisses began trailing down your neck as his hands began roaming your figure. Your hands moved up to tug at the curls hugging the nape of his neck. You couldn’t help the growing wetness between your thighs, Eddie was truly skilled with his mouth, and he hadn’t even made it to where you were most desperate for him. The effect he had on you; you were sure it was due to the fact he was your soulmate. It had never felt this wonderful before, it had never felt this right.
Ugh. I need you so badly.
“All you had to do was ask sweetheart.” Eddie whispered against the planes of your skin.
He gently laid you back on his bed and you moved to take your shirt off. He pulled back to follow suit and before you knew it, your clothes were in a heap on the floor, leaving you in your panties with Eddie’s fingers toying with your slit. Eddie was down to his boxers, and you were palming his bulge through them.
Jesus, I feel like I’m 13 again…about to bust because of a little friction.
You couldn’t help the giggle that escaped you. Eddie stopped his movements and brought his gaze up to your own.
“You heard that then.” He asked.
“It’s okay Eds, I uh, I can’t believe how good this is either.” You smiled.
Eddie nodded at you and captured your lips in a kiss. He wrapped his arms around you and the world began to fade away. You had heard rumors about sex with your soulmate, but that’s all they had ever been until now. In this moment, everything you had ever heard about sex with your soulmate seemed to be an understatement.
Eddie gripped his shaft and directed it into you, pushing in with own swift thrust. Your eyes rolled to the back of your skull and a moan ripped through your body. Eddie’s cock had been larger than any other you had taken before, in that initial thrust alone he had slammed into your g-spot, and every thrust after hit it again and again.
Eddie continued on like this, his stamina seemed never ending, the light that shone in from under the sheet covering his window had long since faded. The sounds outside had switched from children playing to crickets chirping.
Eddie pressed his forehead against your own your breaths intermingled as another orgasm ripped its way through your body. Eddie caught your cry with a kiss, his own moan dying as your lips met. Eddie’s thrusts began to slow along with your heartrates. Eddie turned the two of you, so you were on your sides facing one another, his cock slipping out as it softens within you.
You nuzzled your nose into Eddie’s neck, the smell of his skin lulling you into a deep sleep. Eddie held you close, pressing a kiss to your forehead.
I love you Eds.
I love you baby.
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The morning sun is what woke Eddie, he looked over to where you were laid out sleeping. You were face down, your hair was cascading over the pillow, the sheets bunched around your hips. Eddie ran his fingers gently over your spine, he had been in awe of you. You were stunning even after multiple orgasms and a night of sleep; you were laid here next to him looking absolutely breath taking. You began to stir, and he couldn’t help but smile at you.
“Good morning Eds.” You grumbled.
“Good morning baby.” He responded, “Did you want to shower really quick then go grab breakfast at Benny’s?” Eddie asked you.
“Mmm, that sounds amazing!” You smiled at him as you stretched your arms.
Eddie got up, leading you to the bathroom as he got the water started, he pulled two towels out from under the sink and told you to sit tight while he went to get a glass of water for the two of you to share.
Eddie looked over into the living room to see Wayne fast asleep on the pull-out couch. Eddie smiled to himself, this is his family right here, you and Wayne.
Once you and Eddie had finished showering, he led you back to his room to get dressed. He wore his usual black pants with a silver chain, a Metallica shirt, and his jacket. You looked over at him as you slid on your jeans and clasped your bra.
Where is my shirt?
“Is that it over there?” He pointed to a blue shirt crumpled over on his side of the bed.
“Thanks!” You reached to grab it. “Uh Eddie…”
“What’s…?” Eddie looked over at you and then the soiled shirt that he’d clearly used to clean the two of you up last night.
Shit!
“Sorry baby, let me grab you a shirt to wear!” He offered.
Ooh! Please give me that iron maiden one you wear all the time, it always smells like you.
Eddie smiled and reached into his closet to pass you the shirt you’d subconsciously asked him for. He slipped out of his room and let you finish getting ready for breakfast. As he entered the kitchen, he noticed Wayne sitting at the table sipping coffee while reading the paper.  
“Morning Wayne!” Eddie greeted.
“Morning son. Is your girl here?” Wayne asked.
“Oh uh, yeah. She stayed over, is that okay?” He asked.
“Of course it is son. Just make sure her parents are okay with it before it happens and be safe.” He warned. “She’s a good kid Ed. I can see how happy you two make one another.”
“Yeah, I really love her Wayne. I uh. I’m gonna marry her.” Eddie confessed.
I am gonna make her my wife. As soon as I can.
My answer is yes Eds. Whenever you plan to ask, know that I’ll say yes.
Eddie’s face turned a bright shade of red as you came up behind him, wrapping your arms around his waist, pressing your cheek to his back. You glanced over his shoulders to see Wayne sitting there.
“Good morning Wayne!” You smiled “You ready to go Eds?” You asked innocently, your stomach growling. “Uh, yeah babe. Let’s get you fed!” He laughed.
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Tag List: @sashaphantomhive @silky-luxe
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penkura · 20 hours
Text
knowing [1/8]
Summary: Sanji knew you were the one the moment he met you.
Pairing: Sanji x Reader
Warnings: None really. Normal One Piece stuff I guess.
Note: I wrote this alongside part of 'last forever', and it made me like Sanji even more haha. I have two post story one-shots done with this in mind, but they can be read as stand alone works once I post them. Reader is two years older than Sanji.
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Zoro had never, in the year and a half he'd known and traveled with you, seen you fall for the flirty comments from another man. He'd seen you flirt with some bartenders to get the two of you free meals or drinks when you were in some small towns in between your bounty targets when you both were tight on money. You never took it further than some flirty comments, most of it not even that flirtatious but just being kind. Apparently it was enough to get you free food, and that was really all that mattered.
At the moment though, it was very odd for him to see you being the one absolutely flustered over some flirting. After Luffy had rescued and recruited Zoro in Shells Town, you'd decided to stick with them and become a pirate yourself, following along through Orange Town and Syrup Village, where you'd just recruited Usopp and had Nami joining along as a tentative navigator. In your search for a cook and hearing that Mihawk was nearby thanks to Johnny and Yosaku's sudden arrival, you all ended up at the Baratie, Luffy being dragged in to become the chore boy for damaging the building and injuring the head chef. Eventually the four of you ended up inside, joking around with Luffy about how bad you felt for him.
Your and Nami's laughter was interrupted by the blond haired, blue eyed sous chef of the restaurant appearing before the two of you, thanking the gods or the ocean or whoever for bringing two lovely ladies into his presence that day. Nami basically brushed it off, but Zoro saw how, after she did so, this cook ended up honing in on you who already felt flustered, while he took and kissed the back of your hand, introducing himself as Sanji, giving you a smile. Your face was bright red and you barely were able to get your own name out, before Luffy luckily interrupted saying Sanji was going to be your cook, something he denied before the head chef, who you heard was named Zeff, told him he should go along with you all.
You hid your face behind your hands, shouting in your head about how nervous that interaction made you, you'd never felt like that before and were certain he did that to every girl he met, but you couldn't help it. He just did something to you and it made your feelings start to kick up like never before.
Zoro thought it was ridiculous for you to end up like that, but he also realized after all the time you had spent flirting to get things, it was the first time you'd been flirted with in the time he'd known you.
If Sanji really did join your crew, hopefully you'd get over being flirted with so easily.
+!+
The fights at the Baratie and Arlong Park were over. You'd finally freed Nami's hometown of Cocoyashi Village from Arlong's reign and more importantly released her from being under his thumb. When Luffy finally defeated the Fishman, you gave Nami the tightest hug you could while she cried, before her sister and Genzo, and several other villagers, joined in celebration.
Once you all had been treated for your injuries, the village put on a full celebratory party in thanks for your help with freeing them. Nami had disappeared at some point, but you knew she was fine. Luffy kept looking for meat and saying something about finding a doctor and a musician for the ship.
You, Zoro noticed, had taken to actually downing some drinks, he'd counted five in the time you sat near him. You'd never done that before, and seeing you sway in your seat started to make him nervous as you got a sixth drink and wasted no time in getting it down as well. He was about to take you back to the ship and drop you there to let you start sobering up or resting before Sanji came along and you gave a drunk smile, leaning into him.
"[Y/N]-chan, how much have you had to drink??"
"N-not much!" You hiccup a bit, thinking. "Three?"
"She's had six. She needs to be in bed." Zoro answered for you, which turned you into a giggly mess.
Sanji smiled a bit, putting your arm around his shoulders and one of his on your waist to keep you upright. "Can't hold your liquor then?"
"Hehe, guess not~" you dragged out your sentence while Sanji started walking you back to the Going Merry, talking with you along the way. There was no way you'd remember the conversation you had with him in the morning, but he at least gathered a bit of information about you from your drunk rambling.
He learned you were twenty-one, two years older than he was; the oldest of eight kids, you were proficient in the sword on top of being a ninja, telling Luffy you could be a reconnaissance member for the crew when you joined up. You'd never had a boyfriend which surprised Sanji considering he thought you were so pretty and kind. You had left home at sixteen to find yourself, your parents encouraging you to do as you pleased, and you hoped they wouldn't mind you becoming a pirate.
When he got you back to the women's bunks, you didn't want to let him go and convinced Sanji to at least lay down with you until you fell asleep, which he did, letting you wrap him in a hug that he gently returned. You were so weird to Sanji, he didn't know what to do or think sometimes. He was a natural flirt but with you, it felt odd to do so. Like he really wanted to know about you, not just flirt and compliment you day in and day out. You'd done something to him, but he thought that maybe he didn't mind it.
"Sanji~?"
"Mm-hm?" Sanji was nearly asleep himself when you said his name, pulling him back to the land of the waking. He thought you'd gone and fallen asleep because of how quiet you had gotten in the last few minutes.
"I think you're really pretty~"
"W-What. Hey, hold on…huh??" You had flustered him so badly that Sanji's face was red and he almost squeaked out his words. He didn't get another response from you, as you'd fallen fast asleep like nothing had even happened. Since he knew he wasn't getting anything more from you that night, Sanji quietly snuck out of your bed, leaving the room and closing the door, making sure you were still asleep, finally letting himself breathe with a slight smile on his face.
I've never had someone call me pretty before.
+!+
Sanji never brought up that you had told him you thought he was pretty that night. You still didn't know each other very well, so he thought it best to leave it be as a drunken declaration and let it go for the time being. Should anything change, he might bring it up, but not until then.
In the meantime, you and Nami had become almost like sisters, the two of you sharing stories and laughing, spending much of your free time together.
During your time at a place called Whiskey Peak, you all ended up being the escorts for one Princess Nefertari Vivi, your mission being to take her back to Alabasta in order to stop Warlord Crocodile and bring rain back to her country.
With her as a new temporary addition, Nami decided that the three of you would have a girl's night while she was with you. Nami locked the boys out of the room, bringing in a bottle of wine and some snacks that she convinced Sanji to make for you. Although she was pretty certain the boys, barring Zoro, were trying to listen in, you three were having a blast sharing stories and gossiping.
You were trying to be careful with how much you drank, slightly worried still that you may have said something weird to someone the last time you had too much, but at the moment, you were just tipsy enough that you felt OK and like you'd remember this in the morning.
"All right," Nami grinned a bit before taking a sip of her glass of wine, "Anyone got something else interesting to say?"
Vivi sighed a bit, a slight smile on her face, "My father has been trying to find a suitor for me. I keep telling him not to worry about it right now but…"
"Ooooh, he wants you married already?!"
"O-Only for the kingdom!"
You giggled a bit while Nami talked about how old fashioned and outdated arranged marriage was, before she looked over to you.
"Don't be laughing, miss 'he's so pretty I could die'!"
"Nami!" You seethed a bit, trying to make her keep it down, but it seemed like she had enough wine to keep her just loud enough. You prayed the boys weren't listening in while regretting ever telling her anything the last time the two of you had a girl's night.
"Oh? Who's so pretty you could die?" Vivi raised an eyebrow, though you didn't believe she'd be that interested in silly girl gossip, she was only sixteen, maybe this was the first time she had the chance to partake.
"No one."
"Liiiiiiaaaaarrrrr," Nami dragged the word out so far you'd swear it reached space, "She has a crush~"
"On who??"
"Nami!!"
The grin on her face told you she wasn't going to let up, it was probably the alcohol doing it, normally she'd stop if you asked. You grabbed the nearest pillow and were tempted to throw it, but instead hid your face as it turned bright red.
"[Y/N] likes Sanji! She's fallen head over heels for our flirty cook!"
"Oh! The blond one??" Vivi smiled at you, though you couldn't see it for the pillow your face was buried in, but you still nodded to confirm.
Nami patted you in the back, trying to calm you down before hugging you and babbling about how cute it was you were crushing on Sanji. She might have been younger than you, but sometimes Nami acted like she was even older than you were.
"I just…" You sighed, falling backwards on the bed with Nami still hugging you. She was close to passing out from the drinks she'd had, so you were likely going to be stuck sharing a bed with her that night. "I don't know. We barely know each other still, I don't think he likes me back…"
"You won't know unless you try, [Y/N]." Vivi joined in hugging you, trapping you between the two younger girls. It almost reminded you of your younger sisters at home, who would make you share the bed while they each hugged one side of you.
"I don't want to make things weird…"
"Then don't tell him, make him tell you." Nami nodded, yawning and snuggling closer to you.
Vivi agreed and did the same, having all the attention and warmth made you feel safe, and like you were ready to sleep as well. You smiled when you heard light snores from both girls, deciding Nami was right and you'd try to wait for Sanji to make the first move, if he ever felt the same as you.
"Thanks, girls. You're both wonderful."
+!+
The boys were indeed trying to listen the whole time. Luffy had his ear pressed against the door, while Usopp and Sanji were pushing each other out of the way to try and hear what you girls were saying.
Zoro didn't care at all, he was busy watching the log pose for Nami and making sure the sky stayed clear. Every now and then he'd hear you, Nami, and Vivi laugh loudly, but he didn't pay much mind to it.
At least, until he heard what Luffy said.
"They said someone has a crush on someone else!"
"What?! Who and who?!" Usopp started to blush a bit, knowing this was a private conversation but he still wanted to know!
"Hold ooonnnn, I can't hear them!" Luffy pressed his ear to the door even more, all he heard next was you saying you didn't think someone liked you back. "It's [Y/N] that likes someone!"
"Well, who is it?!" Sanji demanded to know who could ever take your attention so quickly! How dare they do that, unless it was him of course. Damn, he hoped it wasn't Zoro of all people.
Luffy shook his head, he didn't hear much of anything else apart from you thanking Vivi and Nami, then it was silent. "Man, I think they went to sleep. Darn, I wanted to hear who she liked~"
"Bet it's Zoro, they hang out a lot." Usopp nodded, making Luffy think then do the same.
Sanji didn't like hearing that one bit, it almost felt like a knife twisting his heart briefly. He gave a small glare to Zoro who just snapped back at him.
"What?"
"Nothing."
Bullshit it's nothing.
Zoro wasn't blind, he had seen how nervous you'd get around Sanji at times and how much the blond would go out of his way to learn about you, asking questions that didn't make sense to anything anyone had been talking about. You had even taken to helping in the kitchen when Sanji would let you, whether it was with preparing meals or washing dishes.
A few times Zoro had gone up to take his turn for night watch, and found the two of you leaned into each other asleep, your head on Sanji's shoulder and his head leaned on top of yours. The first time he woke you both up and got onto Sanji for falling asleep during his watch, the two boys ended up in a fight while you tried to apologize saying it was your fault for falling asleep first.
"It's not your fault that he didn't do his job!"
"Please don't blame yourself, [Y/N]-chan!! This moss head is just jealous we're friends!"
"I was friends with her first!!"
You tried really hard not to fall asleep the next few times, but when it did happen Sanji was sure to stay awake, just so Zoro didn't come after him. He couldn't have you getting into trouble now!
Zoro didn't bother to say anything to Sanji that night. He knew enough and had seen enough from how the two of you interacted to know there was something developing. He had no idea if it would be a good or bad thing, it could even be both in the end.
For now, he wouldn't interfere and would let you do as you pleased, you were your own person and older than he was too.
If this thing ended up screwing up your plans and goals though, he'd step in if you didn't mind.
+!+
The time you'd spent on Drum Island to cure Nami of her sudden sickness and recruit a doctor had flown by. Now having your friend back to full health and Chopper on board, you were all the way to Alabasta once again, specifically Nanohana to dock and stock up a bit before heading further into the country. Vivi had told you that you'd all need clothes to protect you from the sun and heat, as well as being able to restock the pantry and fridge while you were docked.
Once that had been settled, you were all chased down by the Marines, but rescued by Luffy's older brother Ace, who made it so you all could set sail and get away from them. He ended up joining you all due to some information he'd received for his own personal mission. Everyone gladly accepted him for the on foot portion of your journey, Luffy being the most excited and introducing him to each of you separately.
"[Y/N]! This is my big brother Ace!" With his signature grin, Luffy introduced you and Ace, even though you'd already spoken to him just a bit. It was sweet of him to do so!
"Luffy tells me you've got siblings too."
"Oh yeah! I'm the oldest of eight!"
Ace was shocked, his eyes widening a bit. "Eight?!"
"Oh," you placed your finger to your chin and thought a bit, "Actually it's nine now. Mom was pregnant when I left."
"Holy crap."
You just laughed, telling Ace about each of your siblings, five brothers and two sisters, you had hoped the newest was another girl. You told him a few stories you remembered, making him laugh. In return he told you a few stories about Luffy and their third brother, causing you to giggle at the antics they got up to.
Normally you'd hang by Zoro or Sanji to stay close to the group, but you felt drawn to Ace and stayed in the middle of the group with him, listening to the others discussing different things and Luffy whining about the heat.
You didn't notice how Sanji, who was walking closer to the back of the group, watched you as you talked with Ace. Every time you laughed or shoved on his arm in a joking manner, it made Sanji bite down on his cigarette a little more.
He wasn't sure why he felt so jealous, it's not like Ace was staying or you two were dating.
But still.
I don't like this feeling.
+!+
"You're going to make the cook have a fit you know."
Tilting your head slightly, you sat beside Zoro and wondered what he was walking about.
"Flirting with Ace like that, Sanji's going to lose it if you keep it up."
Your face went red and you looked shocked, making Zoro chuckle at you quietly. Had you not noticed?
"I-I'm not flirting with Ace! I'm just–"
"Laughing at everything he says. Flirting."
"He was telling me a funny story from when he and Luffy were kids! What was I supposed to do, not laugh?!"
Shrugging, Zoro looked over where Sanji was, seeing he had turned back to whatever he was making for dinner. Alabasta had been deathly hot during the day, but now that the sun was setting a chill was settling on. He hoped whatever Sanji made would be something warm. Whatever he was making, Ace offered to help and Sanji declined politely, though Zoro really believed he was trying hard not to snap at the fire user over a possible misunderstanding.
"Zoro…you…" You bit your lip while you watched Sanji and Ace interact, noticing that Sanji was trying not to make eye contact when he responded. "Do you think…Sanji…likes me?"
"I don't know. He seems to like any woman with a pulse."
"...right…"
The slight sadness in your voice actually made Zoro feel bad for what he said, despite it being the truth. He wasn't blind, he could see you had quickly developed feelings for Sanji in the last few weeks, but it was Sanji of course, he flirted with most any woman he came across. Zoro honestly thought you had been flirting with Ace, but he was also willing to admit he was wrong. Your reaction to his response about Sanji liking you told him that.
Honestly, it kind of pissed him off that of all the people in the world, you ended up with feelings for Sanji, the most flirtatious person he'd ever met. Zoro viewed you almost like an older sister and didn't want to see you get hurt, though he was fairly certain that Sanji would be loyal and wouldn't ever purposefully hurt a woman, but he didn't care to see you take that chance.
He'd probably skewer the poor chef if he broke your heart.
"He looks at you differently."
"Huh?" It'd been quiet long enough that you thought Zoro had fallen asleep despite not having dinner yet, but he surprised you when he spoke.
"His eyes. He looks at you differently than Nami or Vivi, or any other woman. I don't know." Zoro shrugged, placing his arms behind his head and opting to close his eyes while you thought over what he said.
Maybe one day you'd see this difference in Sanji's eyes.
+!+
"You want some help?" Ace smiled a bit while he spoke to Sanji, not the least bit surprised when the blond shook his head.
"No. I'm good."
Short answers with a slight bite to them, Ace wasn't sure if he'd done something or if Sanji just didn't like him. He had seemed distant whenever Ace tried to speak to him, giving more short answers but none had sounded like he was upset until just now. He was still nice but not like everyone else had been so far.
Ace watched Sanji for a bit, standing by him just in case he changed his mind. Instead, he saw how Sanji got distracted every little bit, his eyes wandering somewhere before darting back to the food he was making. The next time it happened, Ace followed his line of sight and smirked a bit seeing Sanji had looked over to you, who was sitting by a napping Zoro in a shady spot.
Ah I see.
There was his answer. Ace realized he had taken up a lot of your attention that day, and that he'd only really heard conversation from Sanji when he was talking to you, Vivi, or Nami, but now it all made sense. Maybe the blond was a bit jealous Ace had taken up so much of your time that day.
He crouched down by Sanji, setting a hand on his shoulder.
"Hey, don't worry, not gonna steal your girl."
After taking in a sharp breath and nearly choking to death on his cigarette, Sanji coughed a few times before looking at Ace in shock. "S-She's not–"
"She looks at you like she likes you a lot. I hope you guys get together someday."
Sanji didn't have a chance to respond before Luffy called Ace over to hang out with him, Usopp, and Chopper. If Ace had noticed how he felt about you, had anyone else?! He wasn't even sure if you actually felt that way or if Ace was messing with him. The fire user didn't seem like the kind of person to screw with others' emotions and feelings, but maybe you had said something that made him do so.
Either way, Sanji didn't fully know what to think, and he was glad you weren't switching night shifts with him that day.
+!+
Your time in Alabasta was coming to an end. You'd all helped to free the country from Crocodile's reign and it had actually poured down rain for nearly two days. The royal family was kind enough to let you all stay there until you were healed enough to leave, keeping the Marines at bay, Luffy still passed out in a bed of course. Your injuries felt minor compared to everyone else's; you, Nami, Chopper, and Usopp taking longer to rest and heal up than your stronger companions.
The palace library was a lovely place, filled with books on any subject you could imagine or ever want to learn about. Vivi helped you find some novels to read, saying you could absolutely take them with you when you all left and return them another time, she'd never tell they were missing. The rain kept you inside, relaxing at one of the large windows while you kept yourself in the novel's world, until someone placed a hand on your shoulder, making you jump a bit.
You turned quickly at the laugh and your face turned bright red seeing Sanji there.
"Did I scare you?"
"You did! Gosh," you smiled as he sat down beside you, "make some noise next time!"
"I will!" Watching you return to your book, Sanji smiled while you read. He was so beyond glad you hadn't been badly injured during the fights against the Baroque Works members. Some scratches here and there, a couple deeper wounds, but you didn't mind if they ended up scarring or not, at least you were alive.
One was a deep cut on the right side of your face, currently covered in a thick bandage. He hoped you wouldn't get a scar from it.
"Does your face still hurt?"
Shaking your head, you closed your book and set it aside. "Not anymore, thanks to Chopper. He said it shouldn't scar as long as I keep up taking care of it."
You'd still look pretty even with a scar.
Sanji didn't dare say that out loud, he still wasn't sure about your feelings for him, if Ace was right or not. But he couldn't help reaching out to your face, brushing his fingers over the bandage on your face lightly. You may have said it didn't hurt still, but he didn't want to cause you any pain.
"Sorry I wasn't there to help."
You shook your head, giving him a soft smile while you took his hand in your own. "Don't worry about it. I can hold my own, and I'm alive, aren't I?"
Nodding, Sanji knew you were right, you were stronger than you looked and made it out alive taking down several Baroque Works members on your own. You'd helped whittle their numbers down a bit while they fought the Alabasta army and the revolutionaries in the country.
He still couldn't help but be worried when you rejoined your crewmates and he saw how scratched up you were.
Wrapping an arm around your shoulders, Sanji pulled you a bit closer to him, telling you he was glad you were okay and gently kissing the top of your head. That was the bravest move either have you had done towards the other, and it made you blush bright red, glad your face was hiding in his shirt.
"Hey…Sanji?"
"Mm-hm?"
Biting your lip, you gripped his shirt a little tighter, hoping you weren't about to ruin your friendship, but what Zoro had said stuck in your head and you had to say something.
"I…think I have feelings for you…"
You could physically feel his breath hitch as he tightened his own grip on your shoulders before relaxing a bit, putting his other arm around you in a tight hug.
"I'm so glad to hear that, because I think I have feelings for you too."
You returned the hug, before laughing a bit. "Well, now what? Are we…together or…?"
Sanji wasn't sure himself, but he chose to nod slightly. He really hoped you wouldn't try to look at his face, he was bright red just like you were, but didn't want you to start giggling over it like he knew you would. He wouldn't mind much, but still.
This was the first time he'd made it this far with someone, made it to confessing mutual feelings.
Boy he was glad the feelings were mutual and were actually good feelings. Not at all like the shared animosity between him and Zoro, thankfully.
"I think we should keep this between you and me for now, yeah?"
You nodded in agreement, finally doing what he'd hoped you wouldn't and looking up at Sanji, your face as red as his with a smile on your face. "Just between you and me then."
You were both quiet for a while, before Sanji broke the silence and surprised you.
"May I…may I kiss you?"
His request surprised you so much that you blushed even worse, but gave a nod and soft "yes" in return. Sanji leaned in and kissed you briefly, and when he pulled back, you leaned back in yourself and kissed him back, just as briefly, before hiding your face in his shirt and making him laugh.
"Don't laugh at me."
"I'm not, I promise!"
You thought he really was, but you didn't care too much if so, it was fine honestly.
Only because it was Sanji.
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Anime only watchers and people who aren't caught up with the Manga, BEWARE... Cuz I'm about to discuss Spy X Family Mission 97... You have been warned...! 👌
[SPOILERS AHEAD FROM THIS POINT ON]
OMG OMG OMG OMG!! THIS CHAPTER WAS AMAZING...!!! 💗😍💗
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This chapter goes into detail about Mathra and Henderson's pasts together, and I LOVED EVERY MINUTE OF IT!! 😍 So without further ado, let's talk about Mission 97 shall we...? 👍
The chapter began with Henderson talking to the matron, who mentioned that she overheard that him and Mathra made quite the darling couple, then Henderson says...:
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I LOVE THIS PANEL SO MUCH!! 💗😍💗 And I was like: Suuuure Henderson, y'all are "Just Friends"...!! 😏
Then it cuts to the past and we see a young Henderson watching a young Martha preform ballet at a New Year's party talent show at Eden Academy...:
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...AND IT WAS THE FIRST TIME HE SAID "ELEGANT"!! IT WAS BECAUSE OF HER!! 🤩
(This is just so sweet, man...!! 💗🥹💗)
Anyway, after Martha's performance she gained friends, while Henderson lost friends, all because he called her performance elegant and got the nickname Mr. Elegant...! 👌😌 (I say it was worth it...! 😎)
Some time later, Henderson is having some tea before class and Martha comes across him. He then offers if she wants some and they start hanging out together...!! 🤗
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Three years later, we see Henderson getting harassed and by these three jerks for just being who he is, when suddenly...:
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MARTHA (I mean, Lady M) CAME TO HELP HENDERSON!! 😆 (She also said the "human beings ARE animals" thing that Becky said all the way back in Mission 25!! 👏😆 So that's where she got it from...!! 😌) Henderson then scolds Martha for using her ballet skills for fighting, but then she brings up that he threw a punch too and runs off to tell his teacher of his inelegance...!! 🤣
His teacher brings up that Henderson has been boycotting his military training courses and if he keeps it up, he'll get a Tonitrus Bolt... After that, Martha meets up with Henderson, who declares to fight not with his fist, but...:
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In that moment, Henderson decided that he was gonna change the world with education. But in doing so, he started to push Martha away... 😔 (She even asked him if he was gonna invite someone to the graduation dance and he told her that he doesn't have time for something like that...! 🥲)
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After a brief flash forward of Martha telling Becky about her past with Henderson, we go back to the past to see a nineteen year old Martha, who's now in her last year of Eden:
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A new faculty member has joined Eden Academy, and it is none other than Mr. Elegant himself, Henry Henderson!! 👏😆:
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AND THAT'S THE END!! 😱 Is this going to be continued in the next chapter, or is this a one and done type situation...?! 🤔 Which ever way it's gonna go in the next chapter, I ADORED THIS CHAPTER SO MUCH!! 😍
I'm a sucker for learning characters pasts, so this chapter was super enjoyable for me!! 😄 Especially since WE'RE FINALLY LEARNING ABOUT WHAT HENDERSON & MARTHA'S RELATIONSHIP WAS LIKE!! 😍
Gosh, I could probably talk about this chapter for hours, but I think I'll stop here for now...!! 😁 I really hope that there's gonna be a second part to Martha and Henderson's story because I'm so invested in them!! 😆
But anyway, that was Mission 97, I clearly loved it and I can't wait for the chapter!! 😁 So until the next Mission; take care, be safe out there and be kind to each other...!! 🤗
Also, I love that we get to see a young Donna Schlag as well:
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We haven't seen her since Mission 61!! 😆 But yeah, that's pretty much it!! See you all in the next one...!! LATERS!! 👋😄
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romanticintheory · 3 days
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on my knees BEGGING for more price and civilian!reader. i just read it and i can’t stop thinking about all the cute itty bitty interactions- their date, their convos, maybe him meeting her surprisingly scary dog (currently in love thinking about COD men and K9s yknow?).
Like if there’s not a single supporter for this, i’m dead in a ditch somewhere
what it's like dating john price as a civilian.
john price x gn!reader
part 1
more fluff, more domesticity, me being down bad
a/n: KSAHDASDKJ im so glad u love them as much as i do!! hope this does them justice for u <3
-
the date went really well, thankfully. he showed up at your place ready to pick you up with the bouquet of flowers he knew you deserved. call him old-fashioned, but he was adamant on making sure you didn't have to lift a finger for anything.
hell, he even asked you why you were standing out there in the cold by yourself, saying, "i could have come to your door so you didn't have to freeze all the way out here, sweetheart!"
he held out his hand for you to take as he guided you down the stairs, opened your side of the door for the car, and always walked with you on the side closest to the street.
the movie was a cute action comedy. it was even funnier with john because he'd sometimes pipe up at the action sequences talking about how unrealistic some scenes were.
when you told john that the main character's actor, a built, older-looking man, was used to be your celebrity crush in high school, he couldn't help but let a chuckle rumble in his throat and ask, "got a type then, love?"
"yeah, probably do," you admitted shamelessly.
the dinner was just as nice as the movie: he took you out to a nice restaurant and hung onto every word you spoke. likewise, you couldn't take your eyes off him whenever he told you stories about him and his boys.
he wouldn't tell you stories about him doing his job, mostly because he didn't want to disturb you with what he's had to do. he did, however, happily tell you stories about the ridiculous things he's seen his task force get up to.
"they sound like a handful," you said warmly, "you sure they're not your kids?"
"no, but they certainly sound like it," he leaned just a little bit closer to hear you better over the chatter of the restaurant.
"i get that. i've got a handful at home, too." you paused to take a sip of your drink. "a little puppy."
"really? what's its name?"
when he takes you back home, he wordlessly walks you back to your door.
"would you like to meet beau, john?" you ask, hand hovering over the door you unlocked.
he opens his mouth to speak but gets interrupted by the sound of scratching and a dog panting on the other side of the door.
"well, only if he's okay with meeting me."
when you open the door, john is surprised to see a full-grown rottweiler launching at him at full speed. for a second, he saw his life flashing before his eyes before he realized the wagging of beau's tail.
"oh my god, i'm so sorry!" you call out immediately, "he's usually more polite around strangers. beau- beau get down!"
john only laughs at your panic and took your dog's friendliness as a sign to pet him. "'s alright, love. i trust you enough to know you wouldn't put me in harm's way."
he takes in beau's stature. from the looks of his larger-than-average size, he might be a guard dog for you. or maybe you just wanted company and decided to hone in on his scariness and bulk by adding that spiked collar.
"so, a puppy, huh?" he points outed humorously, locking eyes with you after realizing that your canine was, in fact, fully grown.
"hey, he's still a puppy to me!" you interject, kneeling down beside john's crouched figure to also show the rottweiler some affection.
"i see," he nods thoughtfully, turning his attention back to beau. "you're just as gorgeous as your owner, huh?"
your face is on fire again. "you flatter me, john."
"how does the saying go? it's not flattery if it's true?" he stands up much to the disappointment of beau and to take a step closer to you.
"you're too kind."
"jus' trying to treat you like how you deserve."
it's like he's trying to light you aflame on purpose. your embarrassment grows so much you have to cover the smile on your face with your hand. once your face has cooled down, you take a deep breath and let your hand fall down back to your side.
"thank you for tonight," you say quietly. "i had a really good time."
"glad to hear," he replies. "'m also happy to see beau likes me, too."
"well, we both have that in common, i guess."
"oh, who's doing the flattery, now?" john says playfully, his hands on his hips as you laugh softly at him.
"still you!" you insist.
"hm. maybe next time we can figure it out, yeah?" he proposes, a hopeful glint in his eye.
"next time? you already ready for a second date, price?"
oh, he was ready for more, but he didn't think you were ready to hear that.
"unless you're not," he tells you slowly, afraid of pressuring you into saying yes already.
sensing his worry, you reassure him with, "how could i not be?"
he relaxes at your admission and leans forward to give you a kiss on the cheek. "i've got your number. next week sound fine to you?"
"of course. whatever you like, soldier," you nodded, the lingering feeling of his lips on your cheek leaving a tingling sensation. if you were just a bit more confident, you would have kissed him then and there.
"i'll see you then, love."
he bends down to give beau a well-deserved goodbye pet before turning to leave, looking you in the eyes one last time before leaving for home.
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ackerfics · 23 hours
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my love is mine all mine ch 3 | toji fushiguro x female reader
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part one of to the girls who are failed by the narrative series.
series summary:
'the glorified womb', 'the heir bearer', 'the blessed flower of the jujutsu society' — they are just some of the titles given to the women of your mother's clan, and all of them eventually fell to you, the prodigal firstborn who has the misfortune of birthing someone who will be stronger than their predecessors. with the fate of someone's clan on your shoulders, there are only a handful of things told to you while growing up; be as demure as you can be, never open your mouth and squash your thoughts, sit with a posture befitting that of a lady wearing an invisible yet heavy diadem. but the one that rings the most goes like this: your only purpose in this world is to be a silent wife to a man who will give you the opportunity to carry the next generation of powerful sorcerers. you remember all of these as you walk toward zen'in ogi in your uchikake, the constricting material around your waist akin to the gripping hold of your cursed technique.
and in fate's funny little ways of fabricating legacies and stories, you forget them when you are spirited away by the man who always welcomes the coming of the seasons with you without fail.
chapter title: the answer will be an echo: why did you do this?
warnings: the zen'in clan.
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Your sister inherited the Joushou clan’s cursed technique.
It’s an announcement that has any member of your family reeling. What a waste, they say. This could have been phenomenal if not for the sex of the child. What good would a woman have if they assume the position of heir to a powerful clan that owns shrines of purification for generations? And with the head’s reluctance in re-marrying another pitiful woman, there is no chance that a son will be celebrated, which brings you at this moment—holding your little sister who was given the role of the heir a few months ago. It’s something that you have to accept for you have no ability to create a field of reversed cursed technique that can nullify any nearby techniques.
Four years have gone and your sister celebrated four birthdays with only you and a couple of loyal maids by her side. Your father, being the head of the clan, has growing paperwork and responsibilities on top of his desk with the passing years. Now older, your father has been scrambling with marriage proposals from other clans, all vying to have you in their hold — their riches on his table.
A wife. Pliant, obedient, meek, poised, virtuous; are some of the traits expected of you. They are drilled in your head every time you have lessons with your current tutor, a lady from one of the Joushou branch households, one Lady Yukina. Despite the harshness of the lessons she brings, she might be the only old lady who has never looked at you with disdain. Her gaze fills with understanding and sometimes sympathy when she reminds you that you have to be a woman fit for the jujutsu society.
You have long since understood that even with a title to your name, you are not safe from the whims of men. You remain as a piece in their games, meant to be broken when Time and Fate are not merciful to your soul. You know it—after all, your mother has lived long enough to tell the tale.
The Hanamo clan has always stood as the harbinger of a new generation of sorcerers, as the historians so love to write about in their scriptures. 
The ancestry flowing in your veins is proof that you will always be tied to the workings of the jujutsu world, that you will be a slave to the norms delegated by the higher-ups who uphold the traditions of time immemorial. It continues to resemble the essence of your existence. Without it, you are nothing but a husk—tossed aside for lacking purpose. To put it bluntly, you don’t want to be a wife if it means having a life lived by your mother. You are older now and aside from gaining marriage proposals, you have gained this awareness that not even your father can prevent. You wish to enjoy what they call middle school. At your age, you can’t help but think that maybe you could have been a senior. You want to join clubs, stay at school after classes, or go to cram school because you want to enter a prestigious high school. You long to experience staying up late and getting confession letters in lockers—feel the giddiness stolen glances in a room brings.
However, since Fate is not kind to girls like you, you are stuck here letting the wind carry your thoughts.
“Onee-chan!” 
“Hmm?”
You are drawn to reality at the sound of your precious little sister’s voice.
“What is it, Tiny?”
She giggles, teeth showing and eyes crinkling in happiness at the syllables of her nickname from you. The little girl of four bounds over to the picnic blanket that you are sitting on, the constricting material of the kimono around her figure preventing her from running too wildly. You carefully watch her, your arms stretching out and torso leaning forward when she nearly topples to the ground. The sigh of relief your chest has been holding is let out when she is secure in your arms, which is then followed by a small huff since she has been getting bigger. The little girl in your embrace places her chin on your chest, her pudgy cheeks pressing against you. “Onee-chan’s sadness, go away. I don’t want Onee-chan to be sad.”
You hum, your smile mirroring hers. “Why would I be sad when I have the cutest, most special girl in my arms?”
She squeals when your fingers start tickling her sides.
“Onee-chan, no!” Her voice is being carried by the wind, gleefully intermingling with the melody of the breeze. “Stop it!”
Laughter continues to bubble in your throat. A huge surge of warmth prompts you to lean down to press your forehead against your sister’s. “Why would I be sad when I get to see the most precious thing smile and laugh?” You nuzzle your nose on her hair. She always smells of something citrus and sweet, a combination fitting for the reason behind your smiles. “Tiny, your existence is enough to drive the sadness away. Nothing can make me shed tears if you’re here by my side.”
“Did Mama feel like that about me?” The slightest falter in your demeanour is unnoticed by your sister. “Ah! I didn’t mean to make Onee-chan sad again.”
“What?” You breathe out. You try painting a smile on your lips. “I’m not sad.”
“You are!” She retorts with an adorable scrunch on her nose. “The flowers never lie, Onee-chan! They always lose their colour when you’re sad.” You don’t even have to ask how your sister knows about your connection with the flowers in the garden because she continues explaining in a tone that is awfully similar to Father when he was still instilling the ways of the clans in you when you were a child. “Aida-san told me that Mama’s family speaks to flowers. I know Onee-chan can speak to them, too, and just like me, they feel sad when Onee-chan is sad.”
“I do have a smart girl for a baby sister,” you muse, running your hand through her hair. “Yes, Mama could speak with any kind of plant you can think of and I know that your existence is something she asked for; she prayed every night for you to be here. You are her precious little dewdrop—I know it because the flowers told me so. Mama talked to them while she was carrying you in her tummy, you see.”
“Was she happy when she had me?”
The smile on your face never dims. “ Super happy,” you make sure to emphasise the first word.
“Were you happy?”
“The happiest big sister in the world.”
“I’m happy you’re my big sister, too!”
Your bottom lip wobbles, quickly hiding it by burying the toddler back into your arms. “You’re so cute, Tiny! Ah,” you sigh out, “I don’t ever want you to grow up; I want you to stay this little forever.” Your tiny dewdrop that you can carry in your arms forever, a place where she truly belongs and will remain untainted by the world revolving around you two.
“But I want to grow up!”
This surprises you. “Why, Tiny?”
She beams, “Because I get to be with you more! You’re always away with Papa and I’m all alone. If I’m grown up, I will be by your side more often.”
You give her a rueful smile. Your hand perfectly cups the side of her head as if both are puzzle pieces fitted with each other. “I can’t wait to see you in the future; but for now, I’ll cherish you like this. Because you want to know a little secret?” The smile on your face grows at the sparkles lighting up your baby sister’s eyes. They seem to gleam like jewels within a pool of moonlight. The hand cupping her face transfers to cover her ear, your voice dropping into a whisper purely for the two of you to hear—not even the flowers can be a witness to your little secret. “Nothing in this world truly belongs to me except my love for you, owner of my heart and my tiny dewdrop. You are the one gift Mother gave to me and I don’t know what I’d do if you slip from my fingers too soon. Let me love you as my baby sister and let Time pass by the way it always does. Alright?”
A sheen then covers your sister’s eyes as she stares at you in pure, adulterated emotions that a four-year-old like her can muster.
“I love you so much, Tiny—always remember that, okay?”
She meekly nods, your words flustering her cheeks in a faint surge of heat. “I love you, too, Onee-chan.”
It’s you two against the entire world. Despite how the circumstances bring you your sister, you will never love her any less. You may have familial burdens to carry on your poised shoulders, they don’t include the most precious treasure to you at the moment. 
The moment is shattered when the flowers slightly express their disappointment before you can sense the pattern of footsteps behind you.
“Ojou-sama, Lord Yoshiki is summoning you to his office,” Aida, a maid that you have grown quite fond of through the years, tells you, her head low like the head maid has taught her during her initiation—always show reverence to the members of the main family; they are your benefactor, your salvation, your puppeteers.
“Did he say why, Aida-san?” You pry from her, your arms still around the girl nestling on your lap.
The woman shakes her head. “No, Ojou-sama. But if it helps ease your mind, he is not in a troubled mood.” A knowing glint sparks her eyes as she trails them on the swaying vermillion blades dancing by her feet. 
“Very well,” is all you offer to her as a response. You turn to your baby sister, who is already pouting at the thought of spending the rest of her afternoon in solitude. “Tiny, I’ll see you at dinner, okay?” She is looking at you like she’s begging for you not to leave her alone and that alone nearly shatters your resolve. As the only child aware of the workings of the clan, you must attend to Father’s summons. Your sister will have this role in the future but for now, even with no shed of the Joushou’s cursed technique in your veins, you should do your duty. So, you carefully lift her from your lap before settling her feet on the grass. “I promise we’ll eat your favourites later.”
“And watch Sanrio?”
The smile on your face grows. Ah, your obsession with that cartoon and its characters; it’s purely the reason why your sister adores the white long-eared puppy as well. You, yourself have developed a liking toward the hooded bunny and the golden retriever characters. “And watch Sanrio,” you echo after her. 
“Yay!” She cheers, her hands high in the air and her smile bright enough to illuminate an abyss.
You let go of her small hands before turning around to face the maid sent to escort you to where Father is. “Take me to him, Aida.”
“As you wish, Ojou-sama.”
The walk is silent—you can even hear the grating of the wood against a sudden gust of wind, bringing the scent of cherry blossoms in the air.
Ah, it's spring without your mother again. 
You remember watching her work wonders in the gardens during this lucky season of the year. The pinks the entire world is waiting to sprout are sitting on top of Mother’s palms, the small spark of her cursed technique speaking with the roots and the trunks until all you can see are raining petals of cherry and plum blossoms. You never once looked forward to spring again after her passing. But there is an undeniable clench in your chest when you think about your baby sister never sharing the same enthusiasm about that season; she doesn’t get to press her face on the glass windows at her age every time spring knocks on your household’s door.
The scent of the flowers die down when the shoji doors to Father’s office slide open.
“You called for me, Father?”
The image of your father has long since dwindled. He was never the same again since the death of Mother. The elders have always expressed their bafflement at him refusing another proposal to be remarried. The clan needs male heirs, they say, one that can withstand even the next strongest sorcerer to be born. His previous impeccable appearance is replaced by a rugged man with the constant presence of stubbles and hastily tied hair. There are no elaborate kimonos; instead, he is often dressed in rather simple hakamas, but that doesn’t betray his station. He is still the head of the Joushou clan, the only clan to have ever survived the Domain Expansion of the recorded strongest sorcerer across centuries. 
Father doesn’t look up from his paperwork. “You are dismissed,” he directs the words to the maid who escorted you.
You flash Aida an imperceptible smile right after she bows her head as lowly as she can without toppling over. Her footsteps are silent and she leaves behind you and the man who will decide your fate.
“Who is it this time?” You still fix your eyes on the hardwood panels of the floor. 
The sigh that comes out of Father amounts to the weight he carries after reading the papers on his hand. He doesn’t answer your question. Instead, he fishes out an unsealed piece of paper from a nearby stack and throws it on the table.
You walk to the edge of his desk to catch a glimpse of the sender. Something pulses inside you at the implications the letter’s seal brings. You know it’s inevitable to be tied to this family and you have long accepted it but that doesn’t prevent the trepidation clogging your throat. “The Zen’in?”
After you make it real by uttering the syllables of their name, Father pinches the bridge of his nose, his eyebrows scrunched in an uneasy exhibition of pain. “I’m sure you remember that Zen’in Ougi’s wife died a few months before.” Your silence is an enough answer for Father to continue. The memory of attending the funeral is still fresh in your mind and there’s no mistaking the reeking disappointment coming from the clan elders of the Zen’in. Another wife gone; another chance for a holder of the Ten Shadows lost. “They want you as his second wife.” His fists clench on top of the papers.
You’re quiet for a moment. “Can I read it, Father?”
Father waves his hand.
The sound of crinkling paper fills the room. You flip the folded flaps of the letter. The tidy calligraphy starts by addressing your father. Your eyes skim over saccharine words crafted to impress him.
The letter opens with the head of the Zen’in clan iterating that this is the perfect opportunity for the Joushou clan to enter the inner circles of the jujutsu society.
It goes on by saying that if the Gojos never had that pesky godling born in the same year as your little sister, your clan would have made it within the triad of jujutsu families, even rivalling the authority established by the Kamos. Pity that the Gojo clan beat your family by a hairbreadth and pity that the inheritor of the Purification Technique is of the lowly sex. You take a glance at Father, knowing that this section of the letter is the reason behind the tick in his jaw. You continue on reading how the children from this union would be the leaders of the next generation of jujutsu. With the Glorified Womb and a carrier of the Ten Shadows Technique, it is bound to be fruitful—the most awaited heir of the Zen’in clan won’t just be a figment of someone’s imagination.
We hope this is met with utmost consideration. After all, this is the pinnacle we are both waiting for. Wed your bloomed flower to my youngest son and all will be well—you will be compensated handsomely. Everything you could think of, we will provide as long as they belong to our capabilities. Do not make the wrong decision, Joushou. The fate of your clan rests on your word. 
“This is not in my position to ask but,” you start, lifting your head from trailing your eyes over every well-crafted, harsh word the Zen’in sent, “Father, tell me you’re not going to consider this?” He doesn’t offer a response. He simply stares at a spot on his desk, his hands woven over his mouth. You hear your heartbeat in your ears as you place the letter on the furniture separating you from him. “Father.” The man goes on to blankly stare at you. At the silence, your voice gains volume. “He’s the same age as Uncle Hatsugu!” He stands up from his seat, lifting his chin in the air while you feel tears peeking through your bottom eyelids. At the stony facade he dons, you slowly shake your head. “Father, no. No, no, no!”
Father merely blinks. The previous tension weighing on his shoulders vanishes and in front you is the man who thought it was best to force your mother to bear the son he wanted. “[Name].”
“Please tell me you haven’t—”
“It’s the Zen’in.”
“But that doesn’t mean—!”
“You will have four years.”
Standing in this room with him becomes suffocating with each passing second. Marrying young has always been the culture in your hidden world. Women are a commodity. You hope that because Father was kind enough to tell you of each suitor sending their letters, he will also be kind enough to reject them until you have fully lived your life. “Please,” one word is all you can say. And if that isn’t enough for Father, you try to convince him with your eyes. Yet the more you look at him, all ready to kneel and plead to give back your girlhood, you gradually understand that you have no choice. Father looks like he’s seen a ghost within you. The shock morphs into rage, then, later calms into a quiet nothing that rings so loud your tears cascade on your cheeks. “I-I don’t want this, Father. The Zen’ins—”
“Are a respectful family that is worth leagues more than ours,” he finishes. “They stand as what orthodox should be in our world. This,” he taps his forefinger on the letter, “is just the beginning, [Name]. We are nearing the pinnacle of jujutsu in this generation and it starts with your marriage to this man.” You open your mouth to retaliate. He cuts you off from speaking with a hand. “You are someone born in my family. Do your duty just like any other woman before you.”
“Just listen to me—”
“Am I clear, [Name]?” Father fixes a wide-eyed glare at you. “You didn’t inherit your mother’s viability for heirmaking for nothing. This is your purpose. Whatever fantasies you have running in that head of yours, cease it. Do you understand?” 
You don’t answer him.
“[Name].”
Flinching at the way he says your name, you look down at your feet.
“Do not make me angry; we both know that it won’t end in your favour.”
You swallow a lump in your throat. “I understand, Father.”
“Good.” Then, he waves you away. “Go. I have a letter to reply to.”
You don’t know where your feet take you. After the shoji doors slide shut behind you, you are floating. You see and hear nothing. When you lift your head from mindlessly tracing the ground you walk on, you are outside in the gardens, the little girl you left behind earlier still in the same place. She turns around at the sound of your footsteps but you don’t give her a chance to call you because you pull her into your arms. You can feel her pressing her cheeks against yours and it hurts. You bury your face in her hair, your embrace fully encompassing her from the world. The air smells of hellebore and amidst the lake of white and purple, a clump of begonia stands as a beacon.
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Toji spits out blood on the blades of grass surrounding the Zen’in estate. Imposing eyes follow him from the visible hallways of the traditional Japanese household. He can already assume what they are whispering about— the black sheep of the family is at it again, disappearing in random hours of the day and coming back all bloody like he wants to taint our sacred home . Toji clicks his tongue at the thought and by doing so, irritating his split gums, which irritates him even more. He couldn’t care less. Let them talk, let them paint him into their version of a devil, let them say that he’s the curse of the family; to Hell with all of them.
He keeps on walking until he reaches the nearest entrance to his father’s wing, where his side of the family resides. The maids scurry away from his path and the only sound accompanying him to his destination is the jingle of charms dangling from his wallet. It’s jarring, how stark the various shades of pink and blue are against his dark garb. If he is one of the nosier women in the estate, he would have questioned it as well. The carved flowers make a nice melody with each step and they all sing something that’s purely her . Because that’s the reason why the hanging charms are in his pocket—they’re all for her , the precious doll of the Joushou clan and the belle of everyone’s ball, including his. Even as he let himself loose by facing a dozen curses in an abandoned hospital, he still managed to think of something so soft, a feat in itself that he never thought possible for someone like him.
It’s a miracle that nothing intercepted him. Usually, during his excursions, Jinichi would make himself known and throw remarks that would have the two of them grappling for the first punch. This time around, none of the notable people in his family lurks around the corner, waiting for their moment to strike. It’s peaceful for once and Toji doesn’t know how it makes him feel.
“You.”
A maid squeaks when Toji’s gaze falls on her.
“Where are the others?”
Her chest rises and falls rapidly. She can’t fully look him in the eye.
“I’m fucking talking to you,” comes from Toji’s mouth.
With a hitched breath, the maid answers, “They’re all gathering in the Master's office.”
“The old man is dying; what are they gathering there for?”
The maid grips the edges of her cheap uniform, creating creases that would surely earn her some nagging from the matron of housekeeping. Locking eyes with him is a mistake because she starts sweating even though this part of the estate hasn’t met any heaters in the last few months. Perks of being the most favourite disappointments. Toji carefully wraps his hand around the kanzashi nestled inside his pocket, the ornaments it carries caressing his skin. This is taking too long. Then, the maid stutters, “I-I heard they received a message regarding a marriage proposal.”
“Who?”
“I-I don’t know, Sir.”
Toji lets out a mirthless laugh. “It’s bitchy Ogi, isn’t it? Should’ve known.”
The maid keeps quiet with her head down. Without addressing her any further, Toji walks past her and makes his way to the main wing of the estate. 
Despite saying that he doesn’t care for the inner workings of their clan, he can’t help but feel amusement for another failed marriage to surface. After his newest aunt’s funeral, all anticipation and hope for the clan’s future has been sucked dry. Pity that these women are sent to this wretched family, hoping to at least be treated as royalty. All they got is the constant spiel that they are far beneath their husbands even though they share a last name through marriage. Toji’s mother was one of those women. And Heaven forbid, another tombstone will be added to the clan’s guarded cemetery with this letter.
With silent footsteps, Toji leaned on the wall next to the sliding doors of his grandfather’s office with his arms crossed on his chest.
“—Can’t tell me this is fucking fair!”
His father.
“You have not proven yourself worthy for this, Ichiro.”
The wheezing gives it away.
Booming laughter erupts from behind the closed doors, followed by a guzzling of a drink. “If only your wife died before giving birth to two failures, one of which is standing with us in this room also vying for this girl’s hand in marriage. Would you look at that, you two are almost twins sneering at me like that!” Another round of cackles from his alcoholic uncle. “You would have a chance with this girl who’s even younger than your sons! Ha! Just saying that makes me want to puke—”
“Not in here, Naobito,” a warning from Grandfather.
“—the contents of my stomach.
“Like Ogi is any better.”
“Do not bring me in your squabble,” says a calm, grating voice.
“I still believe this is something you have planned to dethrone me from my chance of being the heir. Are you that threatened by my son’s manifestation of cursed energy?”
Ogi scoffs. Toji imagines him lifting his chin in the air—the arrogant bastard. “It’s not my fault you are hindered by the existence of your precious child. Or do you regret ever siring him for a chance at a young girl? I’d say you are a hypocrite, brother.”
“Say that to my face, you little piece of shit!”
“Father, why not Jinichi?” Toji’s father tries pulling the tides in their favour. “They are close in age. My son developed a technique uniquely his, a promising one that would shake the other clans if he would inherit the position of heir. Why not give him this girl as a chance to redeem our bloodline? The future user of the Ten Shadows Technique will surely emerge from their coupling.”
“It is true that our family has established a hierarchy unlike the others,” the senile man coughs out, “but I would never waste something worth more than diamonds on your dying bloodline.” Toji can hear his father raising his voice while his older uncle cackles in glee. If only he’s not carrying treasure in the depths of his pockets, he would have bled through his pants with how tight he’d be clenching his hands. “Compared to Ogi, your son’s technique is nothing. My son has gained a reputation from the higher-ups of our world, a feat your son could only dream of. What Ogi can do will only be the catalyst in a fruitful union.” There is a pause. “And there is the case of your other child. What’s to say Jinichi is tainted by his younger brother? Don’t even make me begin on how that abomination always succeeds in being the family’s blunder. I have presented the letter for her hand in marriage with Ogi in mind and no one else. Do not make me exert my power over you, Ichiro, because you are nothing but a failure to me.”
“Father, you surely know how to knock down someone,” Naobito says in mirth.
Toji is still against the wall of the old man’s office. His hands are itching on pummeling something to the ground. Fucking elders and their ridiculous degrading words—they make him want to wring their necks and feed them to the curses they keep in the basement. Toji wants nothing more than to witness the light dim and eventually flicker out from this senile man’s eyes. Heat starts travelling all the way to the tips of his ears. Hearing everything urges his body to retreat in his room and wallow in self-pity. But anger gets the best of him, always. This fucking family and their superiority will be the death of them; he is already cursing them. They would ask for Heaven for what he is doing to them in his head. Then again, Hell would probably be Heaven for them for all the grotesque things they do behind closed doors. 
“Then, it’s final. Ogi will wed Joushou [Name] the moment she turns eighteen. This is the pinnacle of jujutsu and I expect nothing but congratulations from you pitiful fools.”
That is the moment Toji realised, he would take down the pinnacle of the jujutsu world.
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Notes:
in the victorian language of flowers, hellebore can mean 'we can overcome scandal and slander'. when paired with begonias in a bouquet, it brings a reminder that future challenges will arise.
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taglist (send an ask or a reply if you want to be added !! )
@booblikerlhc @sugutoad @sakuralikestars @fandomfloozy @the2ndl @silent-sondering @idktbhloley @ruixrei @m0nsterzl0ve @mooniro @kenstarsworld @bealiz13 @viclentdeliqhts @elisaa-shelby @oh1boy @wonderland173
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hey-i-am-trying · 2 days
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ME RANTING ABOUT MISINFORMATION ABOUT BAGI AND WHAT NOT
A missing piece people don't realize about the workers' murder arc is that Bagi was not all that bothered by the workers' death at first, she was more worried about how Cucurucho would retaliate and also by the cannibalism, because yeah, cannibalism doesn't exactly scream mental health.
It was seeing the grief of the living workers that changed her profoundly, it filled her with guilt. And I cannot help but think of young Bagi who didn't have a body to bury, didn't have closure, and refused to even acknowledge the possibility that her brother was dead, being so moved by such an open sight of mourning.
Bagi ran herself stressed not knowing a way to help Cellbit AND stop the murders, she refused any solution that would harm him, she went after talking with people who were close with Cellbit and whom she also trusted to not turn information to the Feds. I am sick and tired to people saying "Bagi told random people about the murders". List of islanders Bagi actually told: Roier, Bad, Pac, and Mike. All who were in one way or another connected to enigmas themselves. People who she knew had more information about Cellbit past or that she thought deserved to know for their own safety.
Bagi never called Cellbit a monster or even insinuated he would hurt the eggs, I really don't know where this misinformation came from. In the separate scenes of Bagi and Bad confronting Cellbit they were they quite literally saying he was more than a murderer, and that he was being consumed by his history of violence
(Also, I get it that watching your blorbo drown in blood is fun and all. But like, did you watch Cellbit's story and believe he turned back into a murderer and being brought back to the violent cycle he was forced into is a good thing? Did watch him seeing his childhood room for the first time and asking himself what he did to deserve to be taken away from his family and made to kill people to be able to survive? Did you see that and then when he told Bagi he didn't care if he died again because he died enough time and did not get that Cellbit murdering people is also him losing grasp on the importance of life itself? Did you not get that this was not a developing arc for him? This was him at his fucking worst after having the best things in his life taken again, again and again. Murder was not enrichment for him, it was a poison that killed parts of him too)
Anyway. That is for now. I think. Just a lot of shit I needed to get out of my chest.
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peachesancreams · 2 days
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Expanding on the Wives
everyones favorite asexual serial killer and his cute wifey! this one is marked mature as it is his serial killing days. I will be going into all their deaths on the third part so stay tuned~
Alastors wife
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Okay so I said Al doesn’t remember how they first met and he doesn’t mainly because I personally headcanon that he has a lot of trauma in accordance with that time. Mainly at the hands of his father, which more then likely is one of the core manifestations of his future MO for being a serial killer, being that he killed ‘bad people’ and never outright leaned toward killing women. Do I think he did? Yeah someone had to have seen something at one point and Alastor isn’t one for lose ends. (I’m sorry guys you’re gonna see a lot of me info dumping, serial killers psyche and the types are a special interest of mine)
They meet when they were kids, him just running around New Orleans learning the streets and how to use the alleys to make a quick getaway. It had helped him more then on one occasion growing up in that day and age, more so when people knew of his parentage. Not that he was ashamed but rather no one Likes Pain much less children, and unfortunately other children will do as they see their parents do. Rosalind had been reading on the steps on the library when he had ran into her. It wasn’t any kind of meet cute considering they got into a argument about who’s fault it was, kids am I right?
They kiddos had decided that they both were ultimately at fault, him for running when Mama said not to rush and Rose for sitting on the steps where people walk. They’d shook on it and had spent the day talking about some radio stories, Alastor eventually telling her about his dream of being a host himself.
They meet up regularly and talked about the many things kids find important. Until Rosalind’s Pa died and her mother had to move them back up north. The saddest part was it all happened so rapidly, Rosalind hadn’t had time to find Alastor to tell him. Her mother kept Rosalind close to her through out the process of the funeral and the move, having heard of the company her daughters been keeping but also to grieve with her daughter.
Thus she moved away and Alastor slowly forgot the face of his friend. He remembers having a dear childhood friend but figured they, like everyone else heard of his heritage and left him.
Meanwhile up north Rosalind was dreaming of going back to the south. She thanked her lucky stars her fathers family lived down in Louisiana still, she sent letters often down to her cousins asking about life and how is dear New Orleans changing?
When she was 18 Rosalind decided to make the choice to move down south. Her mother had gotten a urgent letter from her aunt raving about how her cousins were living in sin and needed a good girl like Rosalind to guide them. Of course this was only partly the case, their cousins mother had actually passed in the fall and one them impersonated her as to fool Rosalind's mother.
They made this plan as to get Rosalind out from her mothers thumb, wanting her to stay close and up north together. It was not that Rosalind didn't love her mother she just didn't want to be smothered by her anymore.
Now for the second and remembered meeting!!
Once secure in the South her cousins had decided to celebrate! What better way to celebrate gaining independence in the 20's then going to Mimzy's club! Bonus her cousins worked there as showgirls(have to make money somehow...) so they were familiar with the atmosphere.
It had been fun, they drank and danced some. It was only when her cousins had been swept onto the dance floor by two different gentlemen that Rosalind finally felt conflicted. Truth be told she had been having mixed feelings all night, but now alone with the gazing of hungry men feasting on her flesh.
Heading to the bar she ordered herself a drink, trying to call the bartenders attention. It was when a smooth voice called above her head that the bartender finally looked over.
"John my good man! My usual drink for me, and one for the lady as well."
Now at this time Al has been establishing himself in his career for a while, I imagine at this time he had actually just scored his first segment. It was some news on event in town and weather reports, he still has a small way to go till he can report on what he really wants. The Local Crime segments, the man who does it now Tyler put people to sleep the way he drones.
He had come to Mimzy's tonight to stalk his next hunt. His radio career wasn't the only one he had been curating and growing with time. He started his murder career with a truly vile man, his father. No one thought much of the hunting accident, his father was a drunk and many had the opinion it had been bound to happen. Filled eith righteous fury, he went after only villainous people. Muggers, rapists, a fellow murderer, and well an unfortunate witness.
Alastor had been eyeing this particular prey for a while, a rapist who preyed on woman. Alastor had watched his prey pick out his own prey for the evening, watched him circle like a vulture. He took notice of the woman, a soft smile on her face but discomfort colored her brows. It stirred something in him, a flash of his mothers face making his grin feel strained.
Alastor doesn't know why and could only put it to words after when he was in Hell. He interrupted his preys hunt to intercept the woman, buying her a drink. The conversation was stimulating, and having her not fawn over him was a nice change. Despite his small role in the station his popularity grows by the day. What can he say, he has a voice made for radio!
They hit it off from there, him quietly offing his prey another night. No need for vermin like him to linger around. After all Ms. Rosalind frequently met him at Mimzy's so there no reason not to keep the place...tidy so to speak.
Rosalind felt like she was in a fairytale, not only was she able to get a job as a poster painter(lots of prints were handmade back then!) but Alastor, a radio host with a career on the rise, seemed to fancy her.
She didn't realize who Alastor was until they'd gotten married, saw a picture of him and his mom he kept in the back of a bible. She also realized he didn't remember her, it made her a little sad but she remembered the bruises he would show up with and forgave him in her heart.
Speaking of, they were only together for like a month before getting married. And the proposal was at his house! He made dinner and lit candles, and made sure to be his most charming.
Rosalind could only say yes to her dear sweet Al. The thing that had gotten people talking is that she hadn't gone home that night. Alastor was never huge on touch but always seemed to gravitate towards her space. That night they'd cuddled on the couch, exchanging small kisses until they'd fallen asleep.
It’s had started the rumor mill but what made it a full function factory was how the wedding ended up being a month later. So many older ladies comforted her saying ‘first babies are always late’, Alastor had gotten a good laugh out of her flushed face after. She had scolded him but couldn't put any heat behind it, weak as she was to his smile.
They never were physical together, it just wasn't something either of them wanted. They didn't desire each other for the body itself, but for the company and conversation. It was a lovely union, Alastor being attentive to her labors praising her work in the house and garden.
Speaking of her garden, since I see the house being his parents before his own. The garden was originally his mothers. It had fallen into deep disrepair since she had passed, as he had no talent for gardening. With his little wife however it had returned to its old splendor.
Where he didn't have a talent for the green, he did take well to his fathers old hunting lessons. Something he found himself indulging in as a married man. Fresh vegetables and herbs along side some fresh venison, made for a wonderfully fresh meal you couldn't find anywhere else. Who knew all it took was one these hunts for him to disappear from her life forever?
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scorpioriesling · 2 days
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I Look In People's Windows
✧・゚: *✧・゚:* ✧・゚: *✧・゚:* ✧・゚: *✧・゚:* ✧・゚: *✧・゚:* ✧・゚: *
Pairing(s): Eris x reader
Warnings: angst
Summary: It's been years... years since the breakup. He is no longer yours. He never really was, always keeping you at a distance. But, there were some good times. Maybe that's why you keep hoping to see him again, anywhere. Just one more time.
SR’s Note: Cannot get this song out of my head, and yes I am doing an Eris story! I love writing him. This one ends happy, just trust.
✧・゚: *✧・゚:* ✧・゚: *✧・゚:* ✧・゚: *✧・゚:* ✧・゚: *✧・゚:* ✧・゚: *
The day he left was the day you'd changed.
He'd tried to reason with you, to make you see why you couldn't be together anymore; it was the day his father killed his younger brother's lover.
Perhaps, he changed on that day too.
"You have to go," he'd said. "You have to get out of here. Now." You remembered it like it was yesterday; there was no option for questioning or changing his mind this time. You'd already started crying, before the argument began.
"I don't care, Eris! I love you, I can't just leave..." You could still feel the way your heart broke, split right in two. Eris had been frenzied, frantically gathering your things and packing them in a backpack.
"And I love you! Don't you see that? I mean, really -- don't you get it?" He threw the backpack on the bed, and you'd watched from the doorway, water dripping from your chin and onto the expensive oak flooring.
"I know you're afraid, but-" He charged over to you, taking your wrists in his hands.
"I am not afraid. Of nothing. Of no one." He said, so close you could feel his breath on your nose. You narrowed your watery eyes at him.
"You are." Is all you said. He dropped your hands, returning to the bed and snatching up the backpack. His back had still been turned to you when he said:
"I won't have you end up dead like Jesminda." Another silent sob racked your body, and you tried hard to keep from shaking.
"You know I'd love you to the ends of Prythian, Y/N." He said, voice quieter now as he approached you and slipped your arms into the staps of the pack. "I would do anything for you." A tear slipped past his eyeline. "Hell, I would jump into the cauldron for you-"
"I don't need anyone jumping into anything," you say, brushing your thumb over his tear-stained cheek. "I just need you. Me. I don't want to not know you anymore." The last part came out shakily. "Does it feel alright to not know me?"
His hands pulled your waist close, and he wrapped his arms around you one more time. You remembered feeling his shoulders shaking, your tears staining his mahogony jacket as you buried your face in his chest. You inhaled deep, smelling his campfire and cinnamon scent one more time...
And now here you were, still addicted to the "if only"s. If only he'd let you stay. If only he'd run with you. If only he was still yours...
You hadn't realized you'd wandered out of your neighborhood, and into the town square. The sky was gray and dull; reflecting how you'd felt inside. When was the last time you'd truly seen the sunshine?
On the last day you'd spent with your love.
Meandering through the Autumn court streets was usually peaceful, not many people being out this time of year as the air had turned a bit chilly. You would constantly check inside shops, the big windows highlighting the guests inside. You don't know what you'd do if you saw him now; its been years since he told you to leave. You'd listened, and stayed away; but that didn't help your mind playing tricks on you. Thinking you'd seen him boarding a train; seeing him at the tables of Christmas parties you couldn't bring yourself to attend.
You were pulled from your thoughts when you heard the conversations around you, growing more and more as you'd ventured further into the square.
"I heard his kid did it."
"I can't believe the High Lord is actually dead."
"I was told that the oldest son slayed him, out of pure hatred."
What were they talking about? Certainly if they were discussing Lord Beron, you would have heard the news by now. If what they were saying was true and he was really dead, that would mean...
"Ahh, thank you Mariella. You always know exactly why I've come!"
Your body freezes, the whisper of sound drifting from an open doorway to a bakery on your left. You'd recognize that honey-dripped voice anywhere.
You break into a sprint, right for the bakery.
You knew you weren't decieving yourself this time.
Peering in through the storefront, you catch sight of his radiant curls, piled on his head. His genuine smile exposes his perfect canines; a smile you hadn't seen in so long. One you'd never thought you'd see again. He looked almost the exact same, just how you remembered him from all those years ago.
Your breath fogged up the glass, and you wiped it with your sleeve. The small squeak that came from the action caused Eris and the cashier to both peer out at you, and you felt an electricity bolt shoot through you when your eyes met his one more time.
He murnured something quickly to the woman, and raced out of the store. When he cleared the entry way, he stared at you in silence for a few beats, utter shock on his face like he was seeing you for the first time all over again. He took one small step towards you, and you couldn't wait any longer. You ran to him and threw your arms around his neck, his wrapping around your waist and twirling you around. When he finally set you down, you pulled back and met those whiskey orbs, solely focused on you. You didn't care who was staring. You didn't care what people said. You only cared about the male in front of you.
"Eris, what... what happened?" You asked, voice breaking as you tried to contain the happy tears running down your face. He only smiled back at you longingly, taking one hand in yours and placing the other in your hair, finally feeling your wispy tendrils he missed so much.
"I feel as though I've waited forever for this," he admits, pulling you in closer. When his lips meet yours, the sweet apple taste is back. One you'd missed for so long. He continues kissing you for a few moments, relishing in the fact that you were finally back in his arms.
"And," he says, pulling away and resting his forehead on yours. "I'm not afraid anymore."
✧・゚: *✧・゚:* ✧・゚: *✧・゚:* ✧・゚: *✧・゚:* ✧・゚: *✧・゚:* ✧・゚: *
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Taken pt. 10
If Bucky Barnes could time travel, he would go back to that morning. He would hold you a little tighter in his arms, and he would kiss you a little deeper. He would pull your daughter in between the two of you, letting her giggle as loudly as she wants whilst her parents kiss her cheeks and tickle her belly. If Bucky Barnes could time travel, he would have told you not to go to the park—to go anywhere else. But Bucky Barnes can’t time travel, and his wife and daughter are gone.
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a/n: sorry for the hiatus. here’s this. it’s not proofed. yay!
warnings: swearing, blackmail, mention of murder, themes of conspiracy, canon typical violence.
note: I do not own the character Bucky Barnes or any other Marvel affiliated characters. Any and all characters are a work of fiction and any likeness to real persons is wholly unintentional.
You do not have permission to copy, translate, or repost my work; however, feel free to like, comment, and reblog.
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“Well, my targets are gone,” you sigh, glancing down the hallway you had seen Steve run. You click your tongue and return your focus to Bucky, shaking your head slightly.
“Sorry, honey,” you say, knocking him out.
Bucky comes to with a groan, sitting up from his position on the floor, a hand holding his head. He blinks a couple of times, scanning the room for any sign of you. You’re nowhere to be found. Shaking his head, he pulls himself off the ground, and starts heading to the meetup spot he and Steve had agreed on months ago in case Becca had to be taken somewhere safe.
As Bucky travels, he replays the conversation he’d had with you. Why the hell would you bring up a Greek myth? He struggles to make any sense of it, but then his brain picks out a particular part of your story:
“Orpheus didn’t get a second chance to save Eurydice. Zeus killed Orpheus because he was afraid Orpheus would tell the humans all the secrets of the Underworld. Some versions say that the Muses kept his head, though, to sing songs forever. They managed to hear his voice even after he died.”
“Why are you telling me this?”
“Don’t turn around, James.”
Your warning—“Don’t turn around, James”— was certainly a code. After all, if you had struck a deal with Frost, and if you were working with HYDRA, then you were probably being watched, listened to. You couldn’t speak freely. But why Orpheus and Eurydice? Why that story?
“Don’t turn around, James.”
Orpheus turned around… Why is that important?
“Don’t turn around, James.”
“This has to be a metaphor for us,” Bucky thinks. “Does she mean I’m Orpheus, then? Eurydice was trapped in the Underworld… Y/N is trapped by HYDRA… Does she mean to stop looking for her? Or does she mean to trust she has a plan? That she knows what she’s doing?”
Zeus killed Orpheus because he was afraid he would tell all the secrets of the Underworld.
Then, it clicked. Bucky isn’t sure exactly what it is that changed how he interpreted your story, but, suddenly, everything made sense:
1. Chance one to save Y/N: Russia. I didn’t save her. I only saved Becca. She is saying I don’t get another chance to try for her.
2. Y/N is picking off people Frost is afraid will come between him and HYDRA. Right now, I’m not apart of that list. Proof: She let me go. If I attempt a second rescue, she will have no choice; they will tell her to take me out. Besides that, they will certainly threaten Becca, and we agreed when she was born that Becca always comes first.
3. The muses kept his head? They won’t kill me. She doesn’t want me to come after her because they will just capture me. She won’t give me up, but she’s more likely to slip up if it comes to me. A slip up is more likely to lead to… They’ll wipe me. She doesn’t want me to come after her because they’ll wipe me if they capture me.
Bucky sighs as he arrives at the rendezvous he and Steve had agreed on. He feels a little better now that he understands more of what you were saying, but he still feels like there is a piece of the puzzle missing.
The team goes into hiding. You had revealed a lot about the dangers of HYRDA’s plans, but they still know so little. The team knew you had targets—important targets—that you were being forced to eliminate. They discerned the targets were people HYDRA feel are threats against their mission, but they still don’t have a definite list.
“We’re sitting ducks!” Tony shouts angrily into the room.
“Stark,” Fury says gravely, “watch it.”
“I’m sorry, but we are. We have no new intel. HYDRA is AWOL. The world is looking at us to do something, and we’ve got nothing.”
“Buck,” Steve says, “did Y/N say anything else that might give us a clue as to who she’s after?”
Bucky sighs, thinking back over the whole interaction from the moment you got there to the moment you knocked him out. It was as he replayed your conversation on the roof that it clicked: the missing puzzle piece. Bucky meets Steve’s eyes.
“She told me who she’s after.”
“Well?” Tony questions impatiently. “Who?”
“When I met her on the roof,” Bucky says, “Y/N told me she was marking 3 names off her list. That means her next three targets were in the Compound.”
“FRIDAY,” Tony says, “get me a list of every person who was in the Compound at the time of the break in.” FRIDAY responds in the affirmative.
“Then,” Bucky continues, “she asked me…” Bucky trails off as he tries to remember how exactly you worded the question. “She asked me: ‘You’re not all that close to Captain America, are you?’
“I thought it was weird how she worded that. I’ve known Steve longer than anyone, and it was weird she called him ‘Captain America.’ But that was her clue. HYDRA has no problem with Steve Rogers—”
“But Captain America has been ruining their plans since the ‘40s,” Steve says, arms crossed as he puts together what Bucky is saying. Bucky nods.
“So the other two targets have to have been in the Compound at the time of the attack, and they have to be people that have significantly messed with HYDRA somehow,” Sam thinks aloud.
Bucky thought. Who else could HYDRA consider a threat to their cause? Who else has been foiling HYDRA’s plans time after time? Bucky scanned the room, eyes carefully considering each person. It could be any of the Avengers, he thought, but then you would likely have more than 3 targets. His eyes settle on Fury. Bingo.
“Fury’s a target.”
All eyes are on Bucky.
“How you figure?” Someone asks. Bucky doesn’t clock who, his mind still attempting to fit puzzle pieces together.
“Captain America is an obvious choice. It can’t be another Avenger because you’ve done equal damage to their cause. It’s not me because they don’t want me dead—I’m valuable to them. But Fury? Fury created the Avengers. Fury is the leader. He’s also the director of SHIELD: HYDRA’s number 1 obstacle. It makes sense.”
Fury hums in agreement. “Rogers and I make the most sense. We still have a third target to identify, though.”
Bucky nods in acknowledgment, but his eyes settle on Coulson beside Fury.
“Coulson.”
Coulson’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise, as if he never would have expected he could be so important to Bucky. He swallows and composes himself, and when he speaks, he is calm, confident.
“I do make sense. My team and I have given HYDRA a real headache, and, like Fury, I’m the leader.”
With a list of targets that the team was agreed upon and confident in, it was time for a plan. They’d been idle too long. The plan is simply to get you back first, stop HYDRA second, but the way Bucky see is it, you are crucial to Frost’s plan. If they get you, Frost will be scrambling.
“Okay, team,” Steve says into a huddle. “Stick to the plan. The tip we sent out says I’ll be on a solo recon mission, so they’ll be waiting. Y/N will be waiting.
The goal is to get Y/N and bring her home.”
“And we’re sure she’s not just going to kill you?” Sam asks, facetiously. Bucky scowls.
“We have to hope that she really is just playing HYDRA’s game to stay alive,” Steve says solemnly.
“Any sign of her?” Natasha asks into the coms.
“No,” Clint says.
“Redwing and I got nothing,” Sam says.
The coms go silent as the team waits. Steve carefully walks through the hallways of the abandoned HYDRA facility. He’s careful—he half expects you to step out of nowhere and shoot at him.
He turns the corner into what appears to be the facility’s security room. Computer monitors line the walls, each showing different hallways or facility entrances. The room is bland and dark except for the monitors and the light emitting from them.
Steve’s eyes take in the security footage, the room, and the woman sitting in a large desk chair in front of the monitors, legs propped up on the desk the security equipment rests on.
“Y/N?” Steve asks.
“You found her?” Bucky asks quickly, heartbeat picking up. He had been ordered to stay behind in the quinnjet, but if Steve found you, he’s leaving.
“Hi, Cap,” you say pleasantly. “Been a while.”
“You tried to kill me a week ago.”
You frown. “You still mad about that?”
Steve scoffs. “Y/N, what’s going on?”
“What’s going on, Captain America,” a third voice chimes in, “is the fall of the Avengers, of SHIELD, and the rise of HYDRA.”
“Frost,” Steve says, presuming he’s meeting the “mastermind” behind the whole endeavor.
“Captain Rogers,” Frost says with an over animated grin. “A pleasure!”
Steve turns back to you, ignoring Frost’s greeting. “You missed.”
“I won’t miss this time,” you say, the corner of your mouth twitching.
“I don’t doubt it,” Steve replies. “I’ve never known you to miss. Best sniper on the team.”
“Steven,” you say, an edge to your voice that confuses Steve. He opens his mouth to answer, but the sound of a gun cocking beats him to it.
Behind Steve, and then behind Frost, stands Bucky; he has a gun to Frost’s head. It’s clear that Bucky had snuck up on him.
“Well! Isn’t it nice of you to join us, Sergeant Barnes,” Frost says. “I just love a little family reunion. Tell me, how is the Mini Asset? Hmm?”
Still holding the gun to Frost’s head with his right hand, Bucky’s left hand goes around Frost’s throat.
“Watch it.”
“Buck, we need him alive,” Steve warns. Bucky releases Frost’s neck. However, in the small amount of time that this interaction took place, Frost had, unbeknownst to the three of you, snuck something out of his pocket.
“Well, this has been fun. I’m sure we will meet again soon,” Frost’s tone is sardonic. “Just know, Captain Rogers, Sergeant Barnes, that you may have gotten your little bitch back today, but this is far from over. HYDRA will rise again. SHIELD will fall.”
Then, Frost throws what he had pulled from his pocket to the ground and smoke quickly billows up into the room, filling your lungs and making you cough. You hear footsteps—Frost running. He must have taken Bucky by surprise, too.
When the smoke clears, you face your husband and run into his arms for the first time since being kidnapped.
After being rescued from Frost, Bucky and the team take you back to the Avengers’ makeshift headquarters. They (with profuse apologies) blindfold you on the way so that you’re not able to leak any information if you have actually turned against them, or accidentally give something away if HYDRA is watching somehow.
“I’m sorry, Doll. Y’know I trust you with my life, but we gotta be sure,” Bucky says. You rest your hand on his and squeeze.
“It’s fine. I understand.”
Upon your arrival to the HQ, you’re taken to an interrogation room where Fury and Coulson ask you about the kidnap, the torture, the deal you struck, HYDRA’s plans, and everything else up to your rescue. They hook you up to a lie detector machine, even, and ask you if you are working with HYDRA, if you had gone dirty.
“I promise I only did what I had to survive and to keep my daughter alive. I had to do what HYDRA asked. They’re everywhere. They’re within SHIELD, even. I didn’t know who could hurt her,” you swore.
When Fury and Coulson are finally finished interrogating you, they tell you they think you have a chance of being acquitted. You were a prisoner of war, and, surely, the U.S. government would see that. However, until then, you were in SHIELD’s custody and to be locked up. You agree without protest.
As you’re walking out of the interrogation room, hands cuffed in front of you, you see Bucky holding a sleeping Becca in his arms waiting for you. Your eyes widen.
“What is she doing here?” You panic.
Bucky frowns. “I thought you might want to see her. She misses you.”
“Bucky, if she sees me right now, what will she think? I’m handcuffed. The last time she…” You trail off. “I don’t want to see her. Just… put her to bed. Give her a kiss for me. Tell her I love her. Don’t bring her by my cell.”
Bucky says nothing as a couple SHIELD agents lead you away.
It takes 2 months for you to be acquitted. You stay locked up in a SHIELD cell, refusing to see your daughter, barely speaking to anyone for 2 months. When you are finally acquitted, it is because a private grand jury hears your testimony, Becca’s testimony, the Avengers’, security and personnel from the White House there the night you assassinated the president, and the families of the deceased. The ordeal is heart wrenching. You are sentenced to a year of probation (including not going on missions as an Avenger) and weekly court mandates therapy, but you are free.
When the judge tells you, “Mrs. Y/N L/N-Barnes, you’re a free woman,” you let out a sob and feel yourself yanked into a firm chest that you’d recognize anywhere: Bucky.
“You’re okay, sweetheart. You’re coming home.”
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