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#and ignoring the fact that every time i *did a certain thing which i did maaaany times* i could hear my left shoulder grind back into place
corkinavoid · 2 days
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DPxDC John Constantine's How To: Ghost Kids (pt.2)
[<- part 1]
"Oh, yeah," John jerks his head up like he just remembered the fact people are supposed to have names at all. He gestures to the kids, pointing to each of them as he introduces, "Daniel, Daniel, and Danielle."
This time, all three kids flip him off simultaneously. Bruce clears his throat, trying to figure out if Constantine is messing with him and, if so, in which parts. Since, so far, everything the man has said sounds like a poor attempt at pulling his leg.
"I don't think they like those," he cautiously says, and the kids whip their heads at him, nodding furiously. Bruce can't help but be just a little enamored with the way they behave.
"Of, sod off, at this point I don't care what they like," John straightens up with a dismissive, albeit weak, wave of his hands, and rubs his face, "They are menaces. Sometimes by accident, but mostly on purpose. Their grandfather thought it would be easier to handle them if they were not teenagers, and while I agreed with his reasoning at the time, I-" he glances at the kids, who all have displeased grimaces of various levels on their faces, "I have been made to reconsider. I swear that ancient bitch is laughing his ass off wherever he is now."
The kids suddenly grin. They are not very friendly, nor polite smiles - if anything, they look a bit nightmarish. An old grandfather's clock in his study makes a very loud ticking noise.
"See?" John whips his head to look at said clock, the expression on his face bordering on insane. His eye twitches.
If Bruce doesn't do anything now, he might become one of the very few people who managed to witness John Constantine, the Laughing Magician, have a meltdown. So he sighs and decides to solve the problems one at a time.
Which means that no matter how alarmed or suspicious he is, his first move would not be to interrogate either the man or the kids.
"You can sleep in one of the guest rooms, I trust you can find it on your own," he tells John, almost softly, as he catches the girl from slipping away from his lap, "Is there anything I need to know about children before you fall unconscious?"
John slumps with relief, so obviously that Bruce almost smiles. Hardships of raising - or, watching, for that matter - kids, he understands.
"Yes," he breathes out with an air of exhilaration and turns to the kids again, pointing to the middle child, "Danny is the original. He is from this dimension and timeline, that is. Dan," he turns his finger to the older boy, "is in the wrong timeline, he's Danny's future evil self redeemed into older bratty brother. Dani," he switches to the girl, "is Danny's clone, made by his arch-nemesis of a godfather. If she starts melting at any point, wake me up immediately. If any of them start floating, sprouting tentacles, speaking to walls in static, or glowing, don't."
Bruce looks down to the kids. So, definitely metas, that would explain the government trying to get them... Or, no, it wouldn't because he is fairly certain no government is going to blatantly ignore the Meta Protection Acts.
"Don't let them raise the dead, and if you give them food, make sure it doesn't have a face. If you find more than three of them, it means one of them has duplicated, don't worry, they will absorb it back later. Absolutely don't let them touch any guns," Constantine is backing down to the door as he speaks, his gaze flickering from the kids to Bruce and back every second. Like he is leaving a ticking bomb in Bruce's lap, and not three children. "Danny is, comparatively, the most responsible one, the other two are up for any dubious trouble they can get to at any moment. Oh, and their memories are wonky because of de-aging, they remember some things but not others, so if they say something particularly disturbing, it's most likely some random piece of knowledge they managed to keep."
Bruce raises an eyebrow. He did get the part about the kids being, well, abnormal in the matters of their origins, but the disjointed set of rules and advices doesn't help as much as Constantine probably thinks it does.
"Allergies, preferences, ages they were before?" He tries to get at least some more info down before John disappears through the door. Actually, maybe he should send someone to handcuff the man to the bed lest he disappears completely.
"None, but don't let them eat cutlery. Danny likes space, Dani has a thing for exploring, and Dan likes violence." The older kid stirs in Bruce's lap and says something in the direction of Constantine. No sound comes out, but the man seems to get what he's trying to say anyway, "Okay, yes, that was rude of me, sorry. Dan likes... exercise," he ends up with, and that placate the boy enough to slump down and cross his arms. John sighs, "They were seventeen, fourteen, and twenty respectively. Now," he snaps his fingers, and suddenly Bruce can hear the girl - Dani - humming a tune under her breath. So, he lifted the silence spell, it seems.
"Good fucking luck," John wishes to Bruce, earnestly, and all but vanishes away.
Bruce sighs and looks down to the kids.
"Are you hungry?" He tries, and all eyes are on him at once, attentive and unblinking.
"Fruitloops," Danny says, and while Bruce is positive that's the name for a cereal, he gets a feeling that's not what the kid meant.
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i'm kind of amazed how most of the stardew marriage candidates just want you to be their manic pixie dream whatever by agreeing with everything they like and plying them with compliments or praise or whatever (which is fine but a bit. Much) but for shane his romance is just you being there for him while he figures his own shit out... dunno why i never wanted to romance him before he's so good
#i'm usually a sebastian kinda guy but i do think it's silly you have to say you like scifi to gain friendship points w him like cmon man#i will say though that. my bestie's baby daddy being named shane kinda does make it hard to like him 😭 unfortunate but not his fault#ik a lot of ppl are weird abt his recovery and his messy ass room bc they play stardew to make things look pretty or whatever#but i'm actually kind of glad he's a realistic depiction of addiction... the problem is his dependence on indulging in alcohol when he's#depressed not the fact that he drinks period... i think that a lot of ppl are unrealistic abt alcoholism (including me abt my dad's)#but concernedape did really good w him imo. anyways all this to say that i'm really glad shane never expects someone to be a certain way#i know most of the candidates are like. archetypes or whatever and i think that's fine they are very sweet and cute regardless but#i think maybe i didnt romance him before bc i related to him so badly that it hurt seeing myself reflected LMAO dead end life and being#suicidal about it like. i've never had a drug dependence but i'm not really in a position where i can ever make my own decisions anyways#but regardless. there is smth to someone who slowly warms up to you when they can't ignore your kindness any longer and have no reason to#act like an abused dog anymore which. does make me sad just to say but that is how he acts beforehand#idkkkkk idk i think people are always too caught up with his addiction and his messy room to actually see him without realizing that#getting better is a lot harder than it appears and that having a dirty room doesn't mean you aren't trying to be better. sigh#besides it's not like. the end of the world that he has a beer sometimes. have you tried going thru life completely sober? it sucks#ok im done LMAO but yeah i've found myself gravitating towards him this time around when i've romanced sebastian literally every playthru#til now. hmm!#ACTUALLY ONE MORE THING. i like how he's basically a twist on the classic useless husband trope in media where they love sports and drinking#but he's not a bad person and the only reason he's mean to you at first is because he hates himself and his own life and he makes an effort#the more you get close to him instead of the opposite. i like that a lot. ok now i'm done
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chuluoyi · 9 months
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✎ rivals... in love?
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- gojo satoru x reader
gojo is in shambles—so suguru might have a crush on you too?
genre: high school!gojo being a menace but pls spare him he just can't take losing, you see... crack, totally jealous!gojo, justice for geto, enemies to lovers, fluff
note: people have been asking for this so this is up next! i'm writing this while listening to bigbang's bang bang bang and fantastic baby so if gojo is a bit unhinged... you know why
a part of gojo's love entries
general masterlist
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No way. There is just no way.
Satoru felt his eyes itch and twitch uncomfortably. Despite the opaque black tint of his sunglasses, he could still distinctly see you happily giggling.
“Geto-san, that’s so funny!”
With Suguru. His ride or die. Your massive crush.
Your crisp laughter rang in his ears, scorching his ego and igniting it in flames—that was precisely the reaction he had hoped to receive from you too!
"Aren't they just cute?" Yaga was suddenly beside him with a wistful smile, looking at you and his other student a few feet away. "What do the television say again... a perfect match? In this case, a perfect match made in jujutsu school, then."
And responding to your bubbly self, creating the very picture of perfect match made in jujutsu school indeed, Suguru was every bit as enthusiastic. “Nah, wait until you see this—”
"Perfect match my ass," Satoru grumbled outwardly, rolling his eyes, but he immediately dashed away before his teacher could bonk him in the head for cussing.
It was harmless conversation, or jokes, or whatever. Because Suguru couldn't possibly reciprocate your feelings. His type is women of gravure magazines—Satoru had deemed it as such.
…Right?
At this point, he wasn't in enough denial to say that he didn't like you, because he had made it so clear that he was, in fact, obsessed. He wasn’t shying away from the things he did, which included annoying you constantly, asking you out after school, helping you in missions, and sending you few pick up lines here and there.
And he thought he was certain he could whisk you off your feet. After all, who else could measure up to him and win?
Heh, no one.
(or basically that's just him ignoring the intrusive little voice in his mind that whispered, “Suguru!”)
“So what's with the nice act, huh?” Satoru blew his bangs in a huff as he questioned his best friend with a twinge of dissatisfaction. “Do you like her or something?”
Suguru quirked his eyebrow at him. “What?”
“Don’t play dumb. I have noticed how you two have been joined at the hip lately,” and with deliberate intention to spite his best friend, he made the sourest face as he mockingly recited, “Wait till you see this~”
Instantly realizing what he meant, Suguru burst into a loud snicker. “Come on, Satoru, really? Surely you aren't that petty. We were just chatting—”
“Not that. I know. What I'm asking now is that do you like her or not?”
It wasn't a rare sight to see Satoru with a pout and a frown, and usually he'd humor him. But this time, even Suguru could see that there was something different in the way he asked this. And should he say something that irked him then—
“Heh, so what if I am?”
That's the wrong answer.
Satoru halted abruptly, whipping his head around in sheer shock. "What the heck?"
“She’s a nice junior, kind, easy on the eyes,” Suguru shrugged, flashing him a dauntless smile. “Only a fool would let the chance pass up. Satoru, if you keep dawdling, one of these days, I just might—”
“Wha—hey!? That’s totally foul—!”
“Nah, they do say all is fair in love and war now, isn’t it?”
By a mind-boggling twist of events, apparently his best friend was also a guy after his dream girl. Satoru was irked, challenged, and he would never admit it, but a tiny part of him recoiled because Suguru clearly had an early start and a boost—you favored him first.
This was unexpected, and now he was conjuring up various scenarios of what he should do. He must act fast or else...
Little did he know that Suguru was thoroughly relishing his restlessness.
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Everyone around you said that your relationship with Gojo Satoru... is intriguing to say the least. And especially ever since that one botched mission you two went, you also felt there was a shift in your dynamics.
And if by intriguing they mean him constantly blocking your way and invading your space, then yes, it definitely is.
"Okay, okay, but wait, just hear me out!"
You halted your steps and faced him with an annoyed frown. You really had no time for this. You were about to be sent on a mission. "Gojo, really, can't you just—"
"Okay, I know he's dashing, or whatever," he huffed, the last word he said with a hint of disdain. "But hear me out, and I'm sure you'll reconsider."
"Who are you talki—"
"Who else!? Suguru, of course!"
You couldn't possibly arch your eyebrow even higher, and before you could say anything, he somehow took it as his cue to keep going.
“First, he eats curses. Cursed spirits! He eats them like rice balls! Can you imagine just how foul the taste is?”
"Gojo, I don't have the time—"
"Then! Going from that, just imagine kissing him," he stressed, eyeing you intensely as your own eyes felt like popping out by the sheer suggestion. "What if you taste the cursed spirits rice ball?"
"You're unbeliev—"
"Wait! Can you even kiss him? What if his cursed spirits suddenly pop out of him? Are you willing to kiss his little friends—"
"He's your best friend!" you finally interjected, obviously and utterly in shock by his unhinged rambling. "How could you say all of that?"
"No, you're getting me wrong." Satoru's clicked his tongue. "I'm just listing facts why it's better for you not to end up with him."
You barked a dry laugh. "And? Better with you, you mean? That's awfully biased."
"Why yes of course! Self-promo is never bad," he blatantly retorted. "Let me just tell you aallll you need to know about me!"
He audibly cracked his knuckles and puffed out his chest. "You know already, I'm strong. I can protect you well. My cursed technique doesn't involve eating curses, so you don't have to worry about tasting the said curses on my lips."
How could he blurt all of this with that perpetually playful expression? A chuckle escaped you unwittingly and that only spurred him to go on.
"And I'm handsome!" he boldly claimed, pointing at his face with pride. "And obviously I don't need to say this, but I'm filthy rich—"
At that, you burst into hearty laughter, unable to hold it in any longer.
Satoru's eyes sparkled, lit as if someone had just made his day. "All in all, you know what I mean. Everything with me, all of it is going to be fantastic!"
Even you couldn't deny that all of this exchange had been so amusing. Hilariously so. "You're down bad, huh?" you tried to taunt, although it seemed like a burst of snicker. Yet, you were caught off-guard when he said:
"For you?" his little smirk made your insides suddenly all jumbled up. "Yes."
Huh? What is this? Your bravado faltered a bit as your heart did a somersault inside.
It wasn't supposed to thump this hard. You weren't supposed to feel this overwhelming urge to squeal too. And your face wasn't supposed to grow this hot...
Seeing that, Satoru celebrated his little win, a wicked smile on his glistening lips—that somehow looked rather attractive to you now. "How? Thinking twice now, are we?"
But he couldn't believe that after all this, you would still cunningly retort with, "Ha! You wish, Gojo Satoru."
His stunned face was so comical that you chuckled once again. You wanted to rebuff him more, but before you could, Haibara's voice called you from a distance. "Heeey! Let's go! Or we're gonna be late!"
"I suppose that's my cue," you lightly shrugged, and before you left him in a dust, you could've sworn you saw a flicker of brewing tantrum behind those glasses, which brought a smirk on your face. "See ya, try harder, and I might look at your way."
Satoru was at his wit's end as he saw you sauntering away. What more that he could do so that you could be his? To keep your eyes on him and him only?
And yet, little did he know, in that beginning of summer in 2006, even before you realized it yourself, you had already did.
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Epilogue
In another corner of the school, eagerly spying on you were...
"Wait! Can you even kiss him? What if his cursed spirits suddenly pop out of him? Are you willing to kiss his little friends—"
"Did he just..." Suguru gaped, utterly in disbelief at what his own best friend said of him. "Did he just say that?"
Shoko let out a satisfied guffaw. "Oh, he definitely did."
"I can't believe he's tarnishing my name over a girl."
"Well, you know very well he could do way worse than that just to get what he wants," she threw him a thin smile, while exhaling a puff of smoke. "And hey, you lose. You gotta pay me."
Suguru turned to her in surprise. "Huh? Oh—oh, darn it. Shoko, can't you be less stingy?"
"Well, whose bright idea was it to pull that stunt on him and bet on whether Gojo would approach her in less than a day?"
-> continue to extended cut !
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lilyaceofdiamonds · 2 years
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TFW the only thing getting you out of bed is that you can take more pain pills
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dandylovesturtles · 8 months
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Made myself emotional over the “Leo and Donnie chose to be twins” headcanon.
———
“By the way, it’s Leo and Donnie’s birthday next Thursday. You’re coming, right?”
Draxum looked up from his work organizing next week’s lunch schedule to look at Michelangelo, sitting on the counter and swinging his feet. Celebrating individual birthdays wasn’t a thing that the yokai did, but Draxum had been forced to accept that the boys could not be dissuaded from this human tradition. He’d been to two birthday parties now, for Michelangelo and Raphael respectively, eating cake and presenting them with some small trinket he purchased.
He’d known that he would have to go to more birthday parties at some point. But he wasn’t expecting two at once.
“Why on the same day? I can’t imagine the blue one wanting to share.” Actually, he couldn’t imagine Donatello wanting to share, either.
“Oh,” said Michelangelo with a laugh. “That’s ‘cause they’re twins!”
Draxum stared at him. “Twins? What kind of nonsense is that?”
Mikey tilted his head. “What do you mean?”
“They’re entirely different species, for starters,” Draxum pointed out.
“I mean, we all are, but we’re still brothers.”
“Yes, by virtue of your shared DNA donor and the circumstances of your raising.” Draxum waved that off. “But “twins” refers to a situation where two children are born at once, especially as the result of a split of a fertilized egg. Which is absolutely impossible in the case of Leonardo and Donatello. Even if I were to be charitable and simply consider them “twins” for having the same hatch day, I can tell you they do not.”
“Uh, okay,” said Michelangelo, unimpressed. “But they’ve always been twins, so I don’t think it matters to them.”
“Why not? I would think it would matter to Donatello especially, since he claims to be scientifically minded.”
Michelangelo laughed. “Not everything is about science, Barry. Not even to Donnie.”
“Then his decisions about when to apply science and when not to are inconsistent and confusing.”
“Well, it’s their birthday, so they get to pick.”
“I am certain that is not how birthdays work.”
“It’s how it works for us!” Michelangelo slipped off the counter. “We’ll see you on Thursday, right? It’ll mean a lot to them if you come!”
Draxum was fairly sure Leonardo in particular would prefer he didn’t, but that didn’t matter. Now he had a mission: he had to correct this strange incongruence.
“Yes, I will be there.”
“Yay!” cheered Michelangelo. “Okay, see ya Dad!”
He squeezed Draxum around the waist on his way out. Draxum was finding he didn’t mind that as much as he used to.
———
Leonardo and Donatello’s party was just as loud and obnoxious as the other two. Blue and purple decorations covered every inch of the old subway station, strange music blared from unseen speakers, and a horrendous amount of junk food was spread out over a table. It was the same group of people present today as there ever was, the eclectic mix of humans and yokai that the boys considered family, but it felt like a crowd three times the size with the amount of noise being made.
Draxum stood off on his own for most of it, his slim birthday present already delivered to the table stacked with gifts. He’d been a little shocked when Donatello and then Leonardo came by to say hello, since he’d been prepared to be ignored by both of them. It was… nice, maybe, that they did that. Even if Leonardo just wanted to make jokes at his expense.
For most of the party, the two birthday boys seemed to be competing with each other for attention. In fact, the longer he took it all in, the whole affair seemed like a clash of ideas. The purple decorations were neat and tidy, geometric patterns and hard angles. The blue decorations were whimsical, uncoordinated, and haphazard, and there were places it seemed someone had deliberately covered up some of the purple with the blue. Leonardo wanted to play rock music and Donatello wanted to play techno. The cake was a mess because they’d both requested different themes for the decorations. There were arguments between the two of them every few minutes, and according to the human girl April this was “typical behavior.”
But why? They weren’t really twins. They didn’t have to share this day.
Hopefully Draxum’s plan would fix all this nonsense.
When it was time for gifts, Leonardo loudly declared that he was going first, sparking an argument. They squabbled for a bit before agreeing to play rock-paper-scissors, which was apparently what they did every year.
Leonardo won the game and celebrated obnoxiously while Donatello scowled at him. Then he gestured at the gift table - which Draxum, in his efforts to stay out of the main throng, was closest to.
“Hey, Barry! Grab me a gift! Make it a good one.”
Draxum sighed but reached over to take one of the blue packages, checking the tag to make sure it was for Leonardo. “This one is… to Leo from Donnie,” he read.
“Oh no, not that one. Our presents to each other are always last.”
“Because they always get sappy about it,” said April with a laugh.
“Do not!” yelled Leonardo at the same time Donatello hissed, “You take that back!”
“Uh, yeah you do, and you know I’m right.”
Draxum ignored the petty argument to look back at the gift table. If they weren’t going to be satisfied with his choice, he might as well give them his own gift.
He lifted it, in its sensible brown packaging, off the table and handed it over.
“Why not start with this? It’s to both of you from me.”
“Both of us at once?” asked Leonardo. “Oh man, you’re throwing off our whole system, Barry.”
“Yes, but he’s giving it to you,” Donatello pointed out, “which means my turn is still next.”
“Uh, no, if it’s for both of us then it counts for both of us, which means it comes back around to me!”
“Ooooh no, you do not get to loophole your way into opening two presents in a row-“
“Ahem!” Draxum loudly cleared his throat, getting their attention. “Would you please just open it?”
“Yikes,” said Leonardo. “Touchy.”
“Some people just don’t understand the sanctity of opening birthday gifts,” said Donatello with a sniff. But he leaned in to watch as Leonardo tore off the wrapping paper and opened the box.
They were both silent for a moment, staring at it. Then Leonardo said, “Uh, no offense, Barry, but what is this?”
“It’s a… scientific study on how twins are formed during the gestational period,” said Donatello, pulling the paper clipped thesis from the box. “Oh, there are more in here… Also about twins.”
“Uh…” Leonardo blinked at it, clearly bewildered. Well, he was always a bit slow. “Thanks…? I think?”
“Not that I don’t appreciate the scientific literature,” said Donatello, “but this isn’t really my area of study and Leo does better with training manuals and textbooks than research papers.” He looked up at Draxum. “Is there something about this we aren’t getting?”
“Yes there is,” said Draxum, sweeping his hand around at the entire party. “I am here to correct your mistaken assumption that you are twins.”
The room fell silent. Donatello set the paper back in the box, staring at him. Leonardo’s brow creased in anger.
“We are twins, though,” he said, setting the box aside like it was burning him.
“No, you are not. There is simply no way that the two of you could be twins. It is biologically impossible.”
“You think that I’m so stupid I don’t know that?” Donatello demanded, getting up from the chair he was sitting in. “Are you doubting my intelligence?”
“Yes, if you honestly think you are twins with him, then I am.”
“Uhhh, Draxum,” said Michelangelo quickly, stepping between him and the now furious Donatello, “this was a… funny joke, but you can stop now-“
“This is not a joke. I am simply explaining the facts.”
“Yeah, well,” now Leonardo was on his feet, too, “the facts are that me and Donnie are twins. Always have been, always will be.”
“You are not,” Draxum insisted. “And given what I have seen here today, I’d think you’d both be relieved, since you clearly don’t enjoy being twins!”
Both boys looked like they’d just been slapped in the face. The rest of the room had gone completely silent, like everyone was collectively holding their breath.
Donatello broke first, turning on his heel and marching out of the room, his hands balled into fists and his shoulders hunched up as high as they could go. “Dee!” called Leonardo, and then he was scurrying off after him. There was the sound of a heavy door slamming, then silence.
It didn’t last long.
“Draxum!” roared the rat, actually getting up from his chair to get in Draxum’s face. “You come in here and upset my boys on their own birthday!?”
“Seriously not cool, Drax,” said the human April. Cassandra shook her head in shared disappointment behind her.
Draxum pushed Lou Jitsu back, scowling at his accusers. “I was only explaining reality! This is really the rat’s fault for letting their delusion go on so long.”
“Delusion!?”
“Barry!”
“Rat!?”
“Ooookay,” said Raphael suddenly, stepping his way into the middle of the fray and starting to herd Draxum back toward the exit. “That’s enough of that for now.”
“I am simply trying to explain-“
“Trust me, hoss, you wanna step away from this one,” said Raphael, and his tone was angry but surprisingly measured. “Come on.”
They retreated to the sewer tunnels outside the subway station. The smell was much worse out here, and Draxum wrinkled his nose.
“Alright.” Raphael heaved a sigh, folding his arms. “So here’s the deal. Mikey likes you, and I guess I kinda do too, so I’m gonna try to help you before you completely torpedo your chances with the rest of the guys. Which, you kinda did already, but maybe we can turn it around.”
“I still don’t understand why they’re so upset,” said Draxum. “Surely it was obvious they aren’t twins.”
“Uh, yeah, they know they aren’t twins by bio-whatever,” agreed Raphael. “They ain’t stupid.”
“Hmm.” Draxum turned up his nose. “Donatello isn’t stupid, maybe.”
“Leo ain’t stupid, either, he just pretends like it.” Raphael pinched his brow. “Listen, that isn’t the point - the point is they already know they didn’t come from the same egg or hatch the same day or whatever. They’re just twins anyway.”
“But how? That doesn’t make sense!”
Raphael sighed again. “Alright, look. Dad didn’t know when we hatched, right? But we all wanted birthday parties like we saw on TV, so he let us pick.”
“Yes. And for some reason Leonardo and Donatello chose the same day.” Draxum could figure that much out on his own.
Raphael nodded. “I was the biggest and oldest, and Mikey was the littlest and youngest, and Leo and Donnie were just kinda sandwiched in the middle. I think at first they just wanted a thing. Somethin’ that set them apart from me and Mikey, ya know?”
“Not really,” said Draxum. Raphael glared at him, and he sighed. “But go on.”
“So they picked the same birthday and called themselves twins. I think Pops just so glad they were actually getting along that he agreed to it. And I think he thought once we got to the day, and they realized they were really gonna have to share it, they’d both demand their own day instead. I know I thought that was gonna happen.” He smiled at the memory. “But the day came, and… they fussed the whole time just like they do now. Arguing about what kind of cake they wanted and who got to open their present first. But they didn’t ask to split. They kept it the same day, and they kept calling each other twins and it just stuck, until we didn’t question it anymore.”
“…They are both stubborn,” Draxum pointed out, and Raphael laughed once.
“Yeah, guess they are. But that’s not what this is.” Raphael shrugged. “They chose each other back then. Maybe at first it was just to have a thing, but then it became real. And every single year they keep choosing each other. That’s why they’re twins.”
Choosing each other as twins… Draxum furrowed his brow. “It’s not normally a choice,” he pointed out finally.
“Yeah, well, our family doesn’t get a lot of choices, so just let ‘em have this one, okay?”
“…Fine,” Draxum finally relented. “As long as it’s noted that this is purely a social designation, and not a biological one.”
“Uh, sure, whatever.” Raphael rolled his eyes. “Glad we got that cleared up, though. Think you can come back to the party and behave?”
Draxum wrinkled his nose at that phrasing, but nodded. “Yes. I will not bring it up again.”
“Good!” Raphael’s smile abruptly transitioned into something much more dangerous. “Because if you make my little brothers upset on their birthday again, I’ll remind you what it was like when we were enemies.”
Then the smile was back. “Now let’s go in!”
He walked back to the subway station, leaving Draxum to follow on his own. Draxum couldn’t help but sigh wistfully.
Raphael would have made a great general for his army.
———
The boys had already returned by the time Draxum got back. They were opening more gifts, and he noted they were wearing hoodies now - though they had apparently decided to swap their signature colors. They were smiling and chattering, and any hint of their earlier upset was gone.
Until Draxum stepped into their line of sight, and both of them went rigid, wary of him.
Apparently just talking to the red one was not enough. Draxum would have to do more. What a pain.
But he didn’t want the boys to hate him. So he sighed and launched into it.
“I… am sorry. I shouldn’t have said you aren’t twins.”
The boys looked surprised at that; slowly, their posture loosened back up.
“And… to make up for my present, I will… take the two of you wherever you want to go in the Hidden City.” The next words were painful, and he ground them out. “My treat.”
Leonardo and Donatello shifted their gaze from him to each other. They were silent, but it didn’t seem like they needed to talk to have a conversation.
Then they finally looked back at Draxum, slow grins growing over both their faces.
Eerily matching, very evil grins.
“Oh,” said Leonardo, happily menacing. “I think we can think of something.”
“I concur,” said Donatello in the exact same tone.
Oh, thought Draxum. Maybe they really are twins.
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ayoyoungg · 2 years
Text
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#lol Twitter scares me so I’ll write this here#anyways I was checking up on Soo updates#and I guess over the past few days more discourse/slander about the novels came up#which like why?? I’m not sure if it’s because of one tweet or ppl trying to ‘compare’ to loona recent situation#but anyways I read snippets at B&N the other day and I just found it interesting what parts ppl don’t want to share#or like what parts ppl deem as fiction#ie common belief is that a certain character is Soo but a scene I read mentioned something specific that she’s NEVER done (like job-wise)#so then I’m like okay we just ignoring that? like how did ppl determine what characteristics & traits lined up w/ the members#like ‘oh yeah that part was just fiction but this character is totally so-and-so’#I’m not necessarily saying ppl’s guesses are wrong but just kinda goes back to the fact that it’s all pointless b/c the story is a mix#of a lot stuff#the other thing I wanted to comment on is how annoying I find it when ppl talk about Soo’s missed group activities#like I wonder if anyone ever actually kept track of all of that#I just find it weird because I can think of at least 2 other members that missed more activities than Soo (at that time)#it’s like a weird argument? kinda half-baked??#so idk it bugs me every time and I just wanna scream ‘can you elaborate’ or something lol#but I missed the window of opportunity to interact since all this went down a few days ago on twitter#but forreal this one person was like ‘yeah you can search how much she was absent’ and I’m like okay is this number substantial??#jt#just thoughts
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irndad · 4 months
Note
hii dollface, would u write smtg abt hotch being jealous?
like he's trying to hide it from making the team notices when he saw some officer flirting with r?
no pressure in writing, lovey. change it however u want or ignore it if u dont feel like writing it (i completely understands u 🤍)
my love this has lived in my brain so relentlessly <3 i hope you love it!!!! thank you for requesting!! wc: 1.7k
It is incredibly easy to like her.
She’s charismatic in a way that’s almost universally appealing, and he’s memorized the shape of her wide grin. She smiles with her whole face, and Aaron hasn’t really spent too much time trying to make people smile. He’s had success in some ways, but when she smiles at him there’s something in his chest that burns in achingly lovely way. 
At first, he had assumed her kindness was a way to win him over. In her first week, she had noticed there was a rip in his tie (which he’s not sure how could even happen) and she’d whipped out a pocket sewing kit, repairing it. 
He tries not to think about the fact that she’s beautiful. She is, though, in spirit and in appearance. He’s an expert in controlled presentation, but to some extent she must know that’s he’s fond of her. 
When they’d first met (which he can still picture in his minds’ eye- her oversized sweater tucked into her tailored pants, the purple lipstick adorning her beautiful smile) he’d tried to keep his distance. It’s easy to romanticize her, and being her friend felt a little impossible when seeing her as more felt so inevitable.
This plan did not go well, and Aaron had officially tossed it when one day, the babysitter for Jack fell through when he was halfway around the world. She’d picked him up from school and tended to him, and Aaron had come home to a blanket fort on his kitchen floor, and a happy little boy who wanted her to come over every day. 
So it's a little hard to ignore how much he adores her. 
She doesn’t normally want to come out to the scene and they usually don’t require it, but they’re going out to a place she spent most of her twenties, and she knew people in the local PD, so Aaron had asked her to come. 
She’d done so without complaint, although he knows she doesn’t sleep well on the jet. No one knows where the nicer pillows and blankets came from, and Aaron would prefer it that way. 
Anyway. 
The bullpen of this department is chaotic and a certain caretaking is living at the edge of Aaron’s consciousness, a protective desire to keep her from the loudness and violence that she’s typically protected from. 
He’s still thinking this, when he hears her voice over the chaotic hum of the department. 
“Oh my god, Logan!”
Her voice is joyful, and when Aaron turns to see who she’s looking at, it’s an agent. He can tell that he’s not a police officer for many reasons- the fact that he’s got a long, shaggy haircut and a 5 o clock shadow and a leather jacket on his shoulders. The local police would be too strict, and he must be some kind of different authority to be allowed to be here.
He hears the stranger call her name back, and they hug. 
It’s a quick thing, but imbued with deep fondness. Aaron’s not sure he’s ever hugged her for more than a second- just a congratulations when his commendation came in. She’d smelled like roses. 
Now, she’s hugging Logan. 
“Hotch,” she says, a smile still in her voice, “This is Logan! We went to graduate school together. He’s brilliant, I can’t believe he’s down here.”
Her voice is seeped in admiration, and Aaron feels an ugly amount of what can only be described as jealousy. 
“Great to meet you. You’re the unit chief, yeah?”
“SSA Aaron Hotchner,” he offers the man a curt nod, “Have you met the team?”
He goes through the motions of introducing him to the team- he greets Reid with a warm smile and tells him that he’s read his papers. Logan compliments Emily’s shirt, and Morgan’s watch. 
He’s incredibly charismatic.
Is Aaron charismatic? He doesn’t think so. His team, who probably adore him as much as anyone could, still note that he can be harsh, prickly. He never smiles, he knows. He lacks expressiveness. Logan is all fluid movement and easy conversation, and when he takes the jacket off, Aaron sees a great deal of tattoos on his forearm, his sweater sleeves slid up. 
He’d smile for her. 
What should be a good thing, but hurts- Logan is an excellent consultant profiler. He’s thoughtful and helpful and she has an easy rapport with him. Aaron- he’s so bad at talking to women. 
She makes Aaron feel like he’s good at it though. When they drive together, the conversation is easy and feels nice. It’s like sunbathing, basking in the light of her attention and intention. 
With the help of the man that Aaron has decided he hates, the case is finished up quickly. 
He can’t shake the thought they’ve probably dated. It’s not his business- this crush, although this word feels inadequate for the intensity of the way she makes him feel. It’s a private thing he’s never going to act on- he’s older and her superior, and besides- 9 stab wounds and a lifetime worth of issues is a million times less appealing than someone like Logan. Young, exuberant probably not too afraid to ask for what he wants.
“Drink tonight?” Logan asks the team, and a chorus of yes’s and please’s echo through the emptying bullpen. 
“Raincheck,” she says to Logan, “I’ll see you next time I’m in town, yeah?” She beams at him, hugging him in a quick-but-too-long-for-Aaron’s-taste motion, and the string in Aaron’s chest that feels like it’s been pulled all week threatens to pull him under.
After everyone files out, she offers to help him fill out paperwork in his office. It’s just like her, so kind and sweet. Spending her free time filling out reports to make his workload go easier.
About a half hour of amenable silence passes, before Aaron chooses to speak.
“So, you and Logan.”
“He’s great, right?”
Regrettably, Aaron agrees.
“He seems very kind.”
“Yeah, he and his fiancee are really fun. They travel all over, kite-board and do tons of adventure stuff, he’s pretty awesome.”
A moment passes.
It’s like a balloon losing air, the feeling of relief taking the place of panic.
“I thought you two were romantically involved.” He doesn’t know how to verbalize things casually. If he lets it up, he might do something dangerous like tell her that he wants to be someone who romances her, wants to be the person who kisses her after dates and holds an umbrella over her head when she’s caught in the rain. He wants to be what she comes homes to, and it’s a confession living in the back of his throat, threatening to escape at every moment. 
She sucks in a harsh breath, and he wonders if it’s a misstep to have told her- it’s not a confession, really. It sounds like one though- why would he care? What makes it his business?
“Not that that’s relevant to me,” he stammers, “You’re free to engage with whoever you’d like-“
“I know, Hotch.” She doesn’t grace him with his first name, but her voice is fond and warm, her doe eyes meeting his. He likes it, he decides. 
“I’m not seeing him,” she continues, her body shifting to face him, “I think he’s a little…casual for me.”
He thinks of Logan’s leather jacket and unshaven face, rugged appearance and compares it to how he presents himself- clean cut and sharp lines, his suits tailed to fit him like a glove. 
“You prefer something a little more…dignified?” He hears himself say with more confidence then he feels- her implication is clear, but he wonders if he’s mishearing it. 
She tips her head back and he hears her lovely laugh ring through the air like something sacred, and he waits to hear her response. 
“I don’t know, I just know that I’ve been liking this guy for a while,” she muses, looking down at her fingernails, “But he hasn’t seemed to pick up on any of my hints.”
On one of his braver days, he’d told her that he liked that purple lipstick. He hasn’t seen her without it since. She’d always been so kind to everyone that it was hard to notice when her treatment towards him was special, but he thinks it might be. How quick she offers to help with Jack- gives away a Saturday evening to spend with him, even though she sees too much of his face at work.
Her friend from grad school offered to get drinks, and she’s here, telling him what she looks for in a guy.
He tries to be logical about the whole thing, but it’s a bit hard- she’s funny and warm and Aaron loves being around her- loves her company enough to maybe ask for more of it. 
“If this ‘guy’ did like you,” he murmurs, intentionally not meeting her gaze, the precision of which is boring a hole into the side of his head, “How would he go about that?”
He’s not sure what the point of being coy is now, but he can’t seem to stop. He does look down to her and meet her eyes. 
“I think I’d probably corner him,” she says breathlessly. They’re quite close together, now. He wonders if she likes his aftershave. She tugs a hundred through her hair, a nervous but incredibly attractive gesture, “Y’know, if everyone we worked with went to get drinks, and it was just us. If he was amenable to that.”
“If he was amenable to that.”
A rush of emotion licks up his spine- it’s fun, flirting with her. The creep of warmth on her cheek, how her fingers are brushing hers. 
“I think he might be.”
Purple lipstick, rose perfume mixing with the scent of expensive aftershave- he thinks he might be able to kiss her, now. He’s never been good at knowing when to take the jump, but this is something he can do. He can let her know that he wants it. 
She reads him well enough, it turns out, and she kisses him. It’s a surprise and he is so rusty at this and yet- his hand stand on the small of her back, pulling her in and he can feel her lovely smile against him. She’s warm and joyful and she’d kissed him, and all he could do was lean in-
“I think he might be too.” She says, significantly less color on her lips, and more on his, he imagines.
She doesn’t have to wonder, though. When Aaron kisses her again, he decides- he will make her incredibly certain of his affections. 
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xxsabitoxx · 10 months
Text
Look, Don't Touch
Gojo Satoru x Female Reader
Warnings: Major DUBCON, pervert Satoru, somnophilia, jerking off, whiny, whimpering, need Satoru.
A/N: this is literally a dream I had so naturally here it is in written form... hehe
WORD COUNT: 2,148 | Not proof read (forgive me)
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“Sa-to-ru '' you drawl slowly, giggling as he only whines in response. “I can walk ya know, Sa-to-ru~” but the man refused to put you down, carrying bridal style down the streets of Tokyo with your apartment as his end destination. “Stop talking.” But there was no malice in his tone, he was just getting antsy, and it was all your fault. 
You had been teasing him relentlessly, in the club, at the bar, even now as he carried you home. You weren’t even that bad off but he still didn’t trust you to walk by his side if he set you down. Given the fact that Satoru himself had a couple drinks, he was in no state to chase after you. “Never, you know you love the sound of my voice, Sa-to-ru.”
He did, and the way you drew out his name was sending shrills of need down his spine.
“You’re so mean to me… so fucking cruel.” He whined, not caring how desperate he sounded as he rounded the next corner. “You love how mean I am to you, makes you hard, huh?” You whispered the last part in his ear, giggling softly as you felt him tremble. “So cruel.” was all Satoru could mutter in response, nearly crumbling when your building was in sight. 
“Tell ya what, Sa-to-ru.” You started, head swaying a bit before you decided to rest it on his shoulder. He didn’t answer, trying to ignore your hand gently trialing across the broad plains of his chest. You could feel his heart racing, it excited you to no end. “C’mon, answer me.” You pouted, fingers still trailing along his chest before finding your way to his neck. 
“Go ahead…” his voice strained as he spoke “...Tell me what you want to say.” He knew he’d regret it, the moment you shimmied in his grasp so your lips could ghost his ear. “If you can remember the code to my apartment, I’ll let you spend the night.” You laughed softly as he sighed. “I don’t need a place to sleep, sweetheart.” He tried to sound uninterested but dammit…
“Not to sleep, silly boy.” You teased him further, dragging your nail under his chin and watching him try and fight off the shiver that it sent through his whole body. You watched his throat bob, the grip he had on your body tightening a bit. “I wanna play with you.” You whined softly, legs kicking a bit where they dangled in his grasp. 
“Play with me?” he huffed out, legs carrying him quickly as you spoke. “Yeah, wanna play with your co–” but he cut you off with a choked “Woah!” which only made you laugh harder. “Sorry, Sa-to-ru. The drinks make me feel more than I should.” But the white haired man only shook his head, if he spoke he was certain his restraint would go out the window. 
He wasn’t mad nor was he uncomfortable. Quite the fucking opposite, he was seconds away from taking you up on your drunken offers. He was shouldering the glass double doors open, ignoring any glances the two of you may get by any passersby. He knew your apartment code just like he knew your phone number, he spent enough time over at your place to know. 
“So what you’re telling me…” he clicked the button for your floor as he stepped into the elevator, strong enough to hold you with one hand as he did so. “... you’ll let me fuck you if I remember your apartment code?” He finally smirked down at you, trying not to chuckle at your lidded eyes and smeared lipstick. “Mmhmm, thats exactly what you can do… fuck me really good.” 
His moment of confidence fizzled away at your tone, so seductive, so needy. 
Fuck he wanted you bad… 
By the time the elevator door opened, Satoru was uncomfortably hard. It was the only thing he could truly focus on, the way his cock was stiff in his boxers, straining against the material and slowly leaking. Every step sent shivers up his spine, the material brushing his sensitive cock just right as he stopped in front of your door. “You better know it, Sa-to-ru.”  
Your words had begun to slur from a mix of alcohol and exhaustion, you could feel your own arousal dampening your underwear but you had a funny feeling you wouldn’t even be awake by the time he got you in bed. It took three seconds for him to type your code, door clicking to signal it had been unlocked. “Ha…” soft and triumphant as he pushed his way inside. 
You had been right of course, Satoru hadn’t bothered looking down at you again until he was moving to place you on your plush mattress. “No way…” he choked as he set you down, your eyes shut and chest evening out as you began to snore softly. “Such a fucking tease…” he whined, he should have expected you to pass out. He could feel his own exhaustion the entire walk here…
But you had worked him up so well that his tiredness was long forgotten. Now all Satoru could think about was the aching hard-on he had in his pants. “You’re lucky I’m a gentleman.” He mumbled to you despite you not being able to hear, carefully taking off the shoulders of your dress and pulling it down your body. He would only undress you and tuck you in, that's it. 
At least that was what the rational portion of his mind was saying, the other part was starting to lose its cool at the sight of your bare skin. “You’re so fucking perfect.” Satoru muttered again, trying to restrain himself as he pulled off your pantyhose to toss into the hamper as well. Your panties had dragged down a bit with it, revealing soft skin that made him salivate. 
“This is a form of torture.” he whined, moving to place you up against your pillows. He admired the way you looked, peacefully asleep in nothing but a lacy bra and panties… teasing him thoroughly even in your sleep. The thing is, Satoru couldn’t seem to pull himself away, not even to pull the blankets up and give you some modesty. His feet were glued to his spot on the floor. 
“You… you wouldn’t mind, right? Surely you would understand…” he babbled softly, hands moving to hook in the waistband of your underwear. “Just… just to look. I won’t touch…” His breathing stuttered as your cunt was revealed to him, so soft looking and utterly perfect. Satoru’s cock twitched, reminding him of what he really needed. 
Large, warm hands were spreading your thighs, revealing the sticky, shiny arousal coating your pretty cunt, leaving Satoru’s throat dry. “Fuck…” he was shaking as he undid his pants, pulling them off completely and letting them drop to the floor before stepping out of them. His boxers followed, slightly soiled from his precum dampening the front. 
Satoru was careful, climbing onto your bed and sitting on his knees. You laid before him, fast asleep with your legs spread and cunt out in the open. That was more than enough for him, fuck was it more than enough for him. Satoru’s fist wrapped around his shaft ,giving it a hard squeeze, whining lowly as his pretty eyes locked on your cunt. 
Carefully, he tugged at himself, collecting spit in his mouth to drool down over his length. “You’d be such a fucking tease right now, huh?” he spoke to you, hand moving faster now that his saliva was acting as lubricant. “Bet you’d be telling me how bad you want my dick, huh?” he groaned out, his free hand reaching down to fondle his balls as he watched arousal leak from your cunt. 
“Fuck you’re so cute… even your fucking cunt is cute…” his lips twitched, cheeks flushing pink as he spoke those words to you. Dirty talk was never his forte… unless he was alone… or in this case, the other party was sleeping. He could never say the things he imagined when the other person was present. He could only fantasize about the things he would like to do. 
“I wanna eat your pussy so bad… you’re so mean for falling asleep on me…” 
Satoru whimpered as he thumbed his slit, collecting the precum and massaging it around his sensitive tip. “Fuck it looks so good… wanna bury my face down there and eat you out…” he gasped, squeezing his balls so tight he nearly doubled over from the wave of pleasure that passed through him. “My fist is nothing compared to your pussy…” he drawled out now… cheeks flushed red as his pleasure only grew with his words. 
“Bet you’d feel so good, your nails digging in my hair and keeping me there…” he could feel his mouth water, the thought of going down on you was going to have him blowing his load before he was ready too. “You probably taste so good, fuck I want to eat you out so bad…” he whined, brows creasing as he repeated his desires, his fist gliding up and down his shaft in fluid motions. 
Your thighs twitched in your sleep, threatening to close but Satoru’s hand shot out and stopped you. “A-almost done… please let me keep looking at your pretty pussy… almost done I swear…” but you had long since relaxed again, and his fingers had found their way back to his cock head. Satoru massaged himself, his tip flushed a pretty pink and leaking desperately as he pleased himself to the sight of your cunt. “So good… but your hands would be so much better than mine.” 
He was going to cum, he knew he was, he could feel his cock twitching in his grasp as he whimpered about how badly he needed you. “So cruel to tease me and then leave me hanging, especially when your cunt is so pretty and wet for me…” He kept moving, his pleasure building deep in his gut and making his balls tighten. He was going to cum at any second. “You wanted to play with me and now I’m just playing by myself…” Satoru huffed, chest rising and falling faster. 
“You wanted me to play with your pretty cunt and now you’re sleeping… your punishment is not getting off like I’m about to… but still.” He whimpered as he thumbed his slit again, head falling back momentarily to let out a guttural moan, he certainly knew how to get himself off… but it wasn’t you. Fuck it wasn’t you, your hands, your cunt… “So mean…” he gasped out again. 
Satoru could feel sweat dripping down his brow as his fist pumped along his length over and over, he’d cum soon, so soon, but he didn’t quite want this to end yet. Your cunt looked so inviting, but he wouldn’t dare touch you while you were sleeping. He needed to see your sweet face contort in pleasure when he impaled you on his dick.
“Fuck I want your pussy so bad…"
He could really feel it now, especially with the way his cock was twitching. One glance downward and he knew he wouldn’t last much longer. Blue eyes focused back on your cunt, the idea creeping up his spine and reminding him just how perverted this whole thing was. “You’ll let me cum on your pussy, right? I mean it’s the least you could do…” He wanted to cover your cunt in his release, he wanted to see sticky globs of cum coating your pretty pussy.
“Y-yeah… no better place…” He mumbled, tugging his fist faster as his cock felt heavy in his own grasp, twitching and aching to spill his release. So he scooted closer, pulling your body closer to him as he did so. His cock was hovering just above your cunt now, the heat teasing him as he pumped himself closer and closer to his end. “Gonna cum…fuck I’m gonna cum all over this pretty pussy… so fucking mean.. You’re so mean… so fucking mean…”
He whimpered out, over and over as his eyes squeezed shut. Thick ropes of cum spurted from his head, covering your cunt in sticky white. Satoru didn’t stop, hand moving up and down his length over and over even as the pleasure turned into overstimulation. Whimpers and moans fell from his pretty lips as he watched his cum leak down your cunt and pool just under your ass.
“Ruined your sheets…” Satoru spoke to himself, still incredibly turned on by the sight of your cunt covered in his release. “A-again.. You wouldn’t mind if I did it again…” His cock hadn’t softened after all, still stiff and aching in his palm despite dumping a load on you. “You just drive me crazy… you and that cunt…” He whined, fist already moving again while you slept
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randomshyperson · 6 months
Text
I'll Crawl Home To Her - Wanda Maximoff Oneshots
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Summary: A rewrite of the fight scene in WandaVision, with a less aggressive but equally painful discussion. 
Warnings: canon-typical Westview angst, talking about magical submission and free will, established relationship, some grief mentions, rough kissing just because I can, love confessions/reaffirmations | Words: 1.644k
A/N-> I'm just rewriting loose scenes from WandaVison, none of which are really going to end up in anything bigger. But I hope it's a decent read. 
General Masterlist | AO3 | Wattpad
-&-
“It’s not often that you get a dog and bury them the same day.”
To your line, Wanda could have chosen to mumble in agreement. She could have said she was sorry, or she could have chosen to remain silent.
Instead, she chooses sarcasm, as if she had a good idea of how ridiculous everything was starting to get around that town.
“Well, life moves pretty fast out in the suburbs.”
You end up sighing, able to feel the anger slowly building up in you. Wanda continues to put toys away, and you decide to wipe your hands on the nearest dishcloth before turning to your wife.
"I spoke to Norm this morning." You start with a serious look on your face, and Wanda, oh your beautiful, stubborn wife, makes a mocking expression. You don't understand why she's acting this way. "He told me things that really frightened me, Wanda."
It was her turn to take a deep breath, the confidence in her expression wavering for a second. There was only one balcony between the two of you, but somehow the emotional distance was immeasurably greater.
Wanda looks you in the eye. "What's that supposed to mean, darling?"
“You tell me.”  You hit back without hesitation. But what you get from Wanda is a tired sigh, falsely innocent.
"I didn't know it was charades night again." She continues to mock. 
You can't remember if Wanda was ever cruel, but it's a fact that you can't remember anything that happened before Westview.
"I got scared because he was scared, Wanda!" You insist, approaching the counter to lean on one hand, while the other gestures your despair. "It was like a different person, a real, suppressed personality crying out to be released. It was accidental, of course, to discover this. But I'm not an idiot, Wanda. I can see what you're doing. The things that are changing around us every time something gets out of your control. And I don't understand why, and you won't talk to me, and I'm so scared!"
The tears in your eyes match hers. "Stop." She pleads earnestly, but you shake your head.
"You don't want this." You say.
Despite the emotion in her eyes, and the thick tears, Wanda gives a short, ironic laugh, her head tilting slightly. "Don't I?"
"If you did, I wouldn't know. I wouldn't be able to see, to question.” You sigh.”You’ve always been so... extraordinary." Her expression suddenly flinches at the compliment. "Your abilities, your power, I can't tell what happened before this place, but I know about now. There's not a trace of doubt in my mind about you, about how magnificently powerful I've always perceived you to be. Not even about how much I love and trust you." Wanda swallows dryly at your words, but you give a sad sigh. "Then I don't understand why you keep letting me see the flaws. If you're going to lie to me, leave me in the dark. Because I think I'm losing my mind little by little. I can't ignore the suffering of those people, and I can't ignore the uncertainty that grows in my chest every second. I can't remember anything, Wanda. I see those pictures on our walls, those fabricated memories, and nothing reaches me. I can't even recall if I had any kind of family before this place."
Wanda comes around the counter with a certain desperation, her hands reaching for your face. "You have a family. Me and the boys, why can't that be enough?"
Your hands reach for hers. "It's not that, sweetheart. Our family is perfect. This life is the closest to heaven I could get. But I can't be at peace with it at the cost of other people's suffering. I can't ignore their pain."
"I'll help you think of something else." She responds with a nod, pulling your face in to kiss you firmly.
Kissing Wanda has always been intoxicating, a sensation that's easy to get lost in. But fresh in your mind is your coworker, terrified and begging you to get away from this place. Get away from your wife.
You pull away, breaking the kiss and ignoring the way your whole body protests. Wanda is equally out of breath, but the gleam in her eyes hides a deep irritation.
"Wanda, I-
"Save it." She interrupts, turning her back on you. You catch a glimpse of a new form of anger and hurt in her eyes at being rejected. You sigh impatiently, following her instantly. 
"You're not going to run away from this conversation, Wanda, I need to know what's going on in this place!" You practically beg, yelling at her back because Wanda just keeps walking towards the stairs. You huff angrily and teleport immediately into her path. She jumps slightly in fright, grimacing with impatience and taking two steps backward, away from the steps as you insist; "Please. Talk to me."
"There's nothing to say if you don't believe me when I tell you there's nothing wrong." But you shake your head at the words, one hand pulling your hair back. Wanda chuckles humorlessly.  "See, you already have an opinion on the subject. On me. I'm already the villain in your story, darling, so why don't you keep digging behind my back and end this whole thing?"
She mentions going upstairs again, but you stand in her way, one hand pulling her face towards yours. The kiss is more intense than the one in the kitchen, heated enough for Wanda to gasp into your mouth.
She's ready to reciprocate with the same eagerness when you break it, the hand on her cheek caressing her skin.
"Because I love you, Wanda Maximoff." You whisper against her lips, and it's not just the words, but the devotion in your gaze that makes Wanda's legs wobble. You offer her a small smile, an air of lost battle in your expression. "There is no part of me that would plan and act against you. Even here, with the truth scratching at the walls, where I could if I wanted to access the suffering of these people, I wouldn't turn against you. I can only beg for a little mercy, my love. Take the pain away from me, the doubt. I will be loyal and complicit in any of your desires and decisions."
Wanda sobs, hugging you before you can say anything. You can't remember anything that came before, but she can, as clearly as if she were there. And Wanda loved every trace of your old self as much as she loves this Westview version, willing to do anything she asks. It's not so different from the person she lost, with the most striking exception that makes it clear in that moment, that nothing could ever replace the real you. 
You would have taken Wanda out of that fantasy. For better or worse, even if she hated you afterward, even if she never forgave you, you wouldn't let her cross lines through grief, you wouldn't let her lose herself again. After all, that's what you swore to do after witnessing first-hand all the guilt she carried for Ultron's madness and the accident in Lagos. Your true version would never let her drown in sorrow and hurt people again.
But the Westview version, so sweet and devoted, would stroke her back and say the same thing you always used to say, even if now you can't remember it.
"I'm sorry if I made you cry, princess, I never meant to. Look at me so I can bring your smile back."
Wanda holds on a little tighter, tears staining your blouse. The vast majority of the times she had heard this phrase, it had been at much less dramatic moments. While she had a passion for sitcoms and things that made her laugh, you liked more emotional movies that could make you cry. And every time you had a movie session, you would tell her that, easily achieving your goal of putting a smile on your girlfriend's face. But there were also times when the situations were dramatic - a poorly planned workout where Wanda ended up hurting you and tears of guilt escaped her and you tried to make her feel better by saying that same phrase. Or when you had a fight and it got a bit out of hand, and you started your apologies that way.
Or when Thanos took you from her, and Wanda had to hear it twice because of a time stone.
She doesn't want to hear it for a third occasion. 
You're ready to say something, maybe apologize, when Wanda breaks the hug. But she holds your cheeks and presses her mouth to yours. Slowly, allowing you to taste even the saltiness of her tears. There's a shaky sigh escaping from between your lips as she breaks away again, but your affected gaze changes to a curious one as red irises stare back at you.
"I'll make it better." She whispers, nodding slightly. You swallow dry, closing your eyes and resting your forehead against hers.
The only thing you whisper is exactly what makes her hesitate. "I trust you, Wanda."
She ignores the internal conflict and lifts one of her hands to stroke the back of your neck. It must be easy, especially within Hex, to change your mind. To make you no longer question.
You repeat that you love her, and Wanda brings trembling fingers to your forehead. 
She suddenly becomes very aware that consciously, she could never do that to you. She would rather you found out everything and hated her than take away your free will. To turn you into another puppet.
She sighs shakily, ready to say she'll put an end to this whole place when the doorbell rings.
Nothing could prepare her for seeing her twin brother again, but that's another story. Besides, not that Wanda has any idea, far away from there, a fallen Avenger is being stitched back together while calling her name in their sleep.
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potatomountain · 17 days
Text
CIY- CH 21
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Chapter Twenty-one
📍Pairing: detective ateez ot8 x detective afab reader
📍Summary: "Equal"
📍WC: 3.2k
📍AU: detective/mafia
📍Genre: action, dark themes, poly romance
📍Warning(s): 18+ rating, suggestive, slight mxm, mentions of minor character death and gang violence
📍Nets: @pirateeznet | @mirohs-aurora-society
📍Beta readers (and sole motivation): @flurrys-creativity , @candypop1611 , @yourfatherlucifer , @skteezcursed and edited(usually) by the amazing: @daemour
📍 AN: I felt like posting it a bit early (aka need some serotonin for my writing again)
masterlist | Previous | Next
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You had demanded Wooyoung take you home, staying quiet on the ride and ignoring both him, and the others on the screen. Er well, pretended to.
It was quite difficult to keep a straight face as Wooyoung and Hongjoong had a conversation about how you tasted. Seonghwa had left the room in frustration when Hongjoong wouldn’t stop, Yeosang going with him hesitantly to eat it seemed. You hadn’t bothered putting your underwear back on, mostly because Wooyoung had cleaned you up with them and then kept them in his hand as he did drive you home.
You had wanted to talk about what just happened, but the fury and shame had been just a bit much. A fresh sting on the burn you felt over Mingi and San.
Clearly you could do nothing with one of them without the others being involved or knowing about it. Almost as if they had an intent to share you. How you felt about that would remain to be seen- once you did calm down.
That didn’t happen until you were back in your apartment, in your shower, leaning against the wall and thinking about the day.
Again, you were in some deep shit.
Something was going on between the Pink Boa’s and their head group the Golden Circle and Wooyoung just slapped you right in the middle. The fact it’s his mother that runs the Boa’s, and that if she goes down the unit will take such a huge hit you could kiss your job, maybe life, goodbye.
Yet at the same time, Hongjoong had trusted you with this undercover mission. And you knew enough about him, about the tightness of this unit, to know that you would not be put in such a meaningful situation without trust in your capabilities.
Without respect for you.
Your chest warmed at the thought, corners of your lips pulled up into a grin before you were aware of it. He was putting faith in you. Though the alternative was that he put you in a situation where if you did fuck up, you would be removed by someone else’s hands.
That thought wiped the grin right off your face.
Was this another test? Either you could handle the work, the underbelly, or else you would be taken out?
Instead of fear coursing through you, you stepped out of the shower with a grin. You could handle this. You would handle this. There was no way you were going to back down. There was too much to lose, too much at stake and not just for you.
The sex aside, your previous unit aside, this was a job- this was more than a job - and you were determined to do it right.
Daily Wooyoung picked you up and took you Downtown. Daily he took you back. You worked night shifts as a bartender and waitress at the club, revamping your wardrobe with some clothes that were suitable. Wooyoung never stayed around while you worked, but Yeosang would ask you about certain things on the car ride back.
Certain customers. But he would also mention some irrelevant things. Asking about a drink you made, or complimenting your outfit for the day. They were few and far between in the week that passed but definitely had an effect. 
It was also cute how he never looked you in the eye. Cuter how he would force the screen off whenever Wooyoung would start to tease him for complimenting you. Now that he wasn’t hating on you, it was hard to ignore how soft he seemed.
He was smart, attentive to every detail and observant to the point that it was impressive. Even with the multiple screens in front of him, which was a guess, he was able to pick up on details you hadn’t been able to while inside the building itself.
Of course the night Wooyoung had eaten you out wasn’t forgotten entirely. Yes it wasn’t brought up again, Hongjoong and Seonghwa were nowhere to be seen and other than Yeosang avoiding eye contact there was no other sign that he had watched. It was Wooyoung who would constantly remind you, every time he dropped you off at your apartment he would follow you up, begging to come inside and get a taste again.
”I’m going to wither away without another taste soon. Come on Goddess. Please? I know you loved it. Please use me.” He would beg up until you shut the door in his face. He’d leave with a whine, but you were always left hot and bothered. You had loved his mouth on you, how desperate he had been to taste your cum and to hear your moans.
Every time he begged you were more and more likely to give in. Until Mingi got involved.
Wooyoung was begging as usual, and this time you were debating on giving in, letting him pin you to the door and nose against your neck while he whined. “Please. Just another taste. You could use my cock this time if you want? You want to don’t you?” He pressed closer, hands fiddling with your skirt that was the shortest yet and that might have been the reason Wooyoung was even more desperate than usual today.
Your fingers played with his black and white strands of his hair, exposing your neck and letting him press kisses there. He really did whittle down your defenses, play into your desires, and there was just something about him that made him hard to resist.
The sight of Mingi a few feet away, gawking with a pained look in his eyes, was enough to have you pushing away though. Wooyoung whined, holding on tight, just to have Yunho rip him off you. “What the fu- oh, Yunho.” Wooyoung’s curse quickly turned into a grin as he took note of the two of them. A grin that faded with confusion as Yunho was staring him down with a hardness you hadn’t expected on his features.
Mingi wasn’t taking his eyes off you however. He looked… worse for wear with a busted lip and scrapped up cheek, his hair cut and dyed differently to give him a more ruffian look. But nothing was a bigger shock in his appearance than his wide boba eyes becoming glassy with unshed tears and vibrant pain.
It pissed you off that he had the audacity to act hurt over this. Standing up straight you immediately shifted your demeanor to a defensive stance. “What? Why the fuck are you looking at me like that?”
Mingi winced at your harsh tone and for a moment you regretted it. The moment was dashed away when Yunho turned on you quickly and boxed you in, hands braced on the door by your head. “Are you satisfied? Do you plan to hop on his dick and then get pissed when he tells us about it?”
You jutted out your chin, glaring up at him. “Considering three of you already watched it, I doubt I’d get pissed.”
“What?” Mingi gawked, turning to Wooyoung for an answer. You expected the latter to have a shit eating grin on his face.
He happily filled in the blanks as well. “Ate her out in my car. Forgot to turn the camera off. Yeosang, Captain and Vice saw it all. Got off to it too.”
Yunho scoffed above you, hand moving to your neck and thumb pressing up into the soft spot under your jaw. “So why the fuck did you get pissy?”
“Because of Chan!” You pushed him back immediately, anger searing through you. How dare they get defensive! “Because you passed around something so vulnerable about me but wouldn’t let me in. Why do you all get to know of my pathetic rejection and release from my last unit? But you keep me in the dark about everything concerning you and the unit? Pass me around like some fucking toy to use and yes, I like the physical contact but god dammit!” You pushed at him again, stumbling Yunho back into Wooyoung. “I want to be your equal. And you haven’t treated me like that. Neither of you. For fuck’s sake Wooyoung is the only one who has. Who has been honest. I know more about him than either of you and I spent more time around you!”
Tears pricked your eyes as you stared them down, trying to keep up the intimidation and anger but the way your voice had cracked hadn’t been lost. Your own words rang inside your head and it was true.
Even after a week, learning more about the Boa’s and this world that was quietly weaving through the city you grew up in, the most important thing you wanted from this unit was to be their equal. And if that came to sex, to more than just co-workers, you still wanted to be their equal. Especially if sex was involved you wanted to still be a part of the unit, a part of their team.
Was it so wrong to want a place to belong?
Angrily you wiped the unshed tears as they were too shocked to move. “You’re all so God Damn confusing. Doing shit like this. Getting upset I let Wooyoung touch me, contemplate letting him fuck me, but stopped with you? Won’t let you. You made it so damn clear you wanted me gone at first.”
“Princess-”
“Don’t Princess me!” You cut off Mingi. “Can you really fucking blame me for this? You had the fucking audacity to get upset over this? I seriously can not with you right now.” Huffing, you turned towards your door. “For the last time, I’ll talk to you when I’m ready to.” With the last bit of anger you walked into your apartment ready to shut the door.
But Yunho was stepping in behind you, locking the door behind him and quickly closing the distance between you. When you reached out to push him away he grabbed your wrists, backed you against the wall and pinned you there. “G-get off me! Fucking jackass!”
Squirming in his hold you ended up bringing your knee up into his crotch roughly, just for him to groan and hold both your wrists with one hand and grab your leg with the other. Slotting his thigh between yours, he slid you further up the wall and pinned you there with his body weight.
He kissed you, shutting up the string of curses leaving your lips and instead resulting in you biting his. He pulled away, muttering your name in a soft plea to calm down. It was the nickname that had you stilling. “Butterfly please- I’m sorry.”
“S-sorry for what.” You stammered out, attempting to make eye contact as he pressed his forehead against yours.
“Everything. All of it. For putting up my walls. For all of us. We haven’t been fair to you.” He pulled away just enough to stare you down, a softness there you weren’t used to seeing on his features. “You… remind me of my dad a little. In particular, in the way you’re righteous to your own morals. The justice system is second to you right? What comes first is protecting the people and giving them the justice they deserve.”
You nodded slowly, unsure where he was going with this since he brought up his father of all people. You could remember the long list of articles about his father. A good samaritan, a cop who volunteered at schools and children centers and worked with his wife, who was a nurse at children's hospitals, often. He had an amazing track record, and you had a feeling Yunho would be a bit similar. 
Well, the fact he had you pinned up against the wall after forcing himself into your apartment aside that is.
“He… he’d take me on patrols sometimes. Or have me come up to the precinct when there was a child in his care. Mingi was… one of the regular ones.” The more he spoke the less you wanted to run, full on here to listen now that he was finally opening up to you. Realizing this, he dropped your arms and lifted your other leg so you were straddling his waist. “My father opened up our home to him. He became my best friend, always over, even skipped school to hide in my room. Dad got him to go to school regularly, to do well, and he did.”
Resting your forearms on his shoulders you took in the sight of him. The vulnerability he was finally letting slip free despite the promiscuous position you two were in. “Found out Mingi was one of those kids often dragged into gang business. The one that died you got all riled up about… that could have been Mingi you know? I think about that a lot. I get angry about that a lot. And you.” He reached up, cupping your cheek and letting his thumb run over the corner of your lips. “You reacted just as he would have. He wouldn’t stop until he got justice. He worked so hard to make the streets safe for kids and you saw how it is now.”
You softened in his hold, remembering clearly how his father had died. Gang violence. What seemed like petty gang violence and was reported as such, you had noticed a pattern. “The Silver Dogs took a hit out on him… didn’t they?” That’s how they resolved the conflict. That’s one of the things you had learned in your time undercover and your research.
Yunho chuckled wryly, bringing his lips to yours, ghosting soft touches but not giving you what your body apparently craved. “You are something, butterfly, having figured that out already. I can see why they’re dead set on you. You fit, more than you realize. More than we like, really.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” You said with a bit of a pout.
He chuckled with a bit more warmth, lips trailing over your jaw to your neck, just under your ear. “You’ll see. Just… promise me you won’t regret it? You’re going to get deeper, and deeper, into our shit. Into this world. Into our unit. And into our hearts. You really want that? Because if not, you're not only going to get hurt… you’ll hurt us. Hurt Mingi, and Wooyoung and San. You care about them right?”
You nodded as you tilted your head back, giving him access. It was astonishing how you melted in his embrace considering you had been angry moments ago, but you supposed that was because he was being vulnerable with you. It felt like he was giving you a piece of him with this information, like he was giving you a piece to the unit. “I do care… I want to be a part of it.”
He sighed heavily, setting your legs down and pressing a quick kiss to your nose. “We want you here too, I promise. Jongho excluded. He’ll warm up soon enough.”
With a huff, you tugged at his hair to pull him away and have him look at you. “Does that just mean for sex, or as an actual partner in this unit?”
His eyes widened slightly but he laughed the next second. “Butterfly… Wooyoung told you we all fuck each other right? It sort of goes hand in hand.”
The image of Hongjoong licking cum off his fingers, accompanied by Wooyoung kissing San, floated through your mind. He did say that but… “All of you? Even sour puss Jongho?”
He shrugged, hands running over your sides. “Well, that’s a little different. He’s sworn off women for one, and two… he really only fucks Yeosang and Wooyoung. The latter in frustration. But this is a partnership, both in the field and in the bedroom. Does that bother you?”
You found yourself grinning up at him. “Surprisingly… no. But that does make you all the oddest detectives I have ever met or heard of. Wooyoung especially since he made the cut through other means.”
“He told you about that?”
“Mhmm. Met his mom too. Oh, should I not be saying that?”
He shook his head. “It’s fine here. With us. It’s proof that we are opening up to you though. Already meeting the parents.” He wore a cheeky grin on his lips as he stepped away, receiving a light slap to his arm from you. “There you are. My butterfly is back.”
Heat rushed up your neck and settled in your stomach. “Will you leave now?”
He gasped over dramatically, placing a hand on his chest. “We just had a touching moment and now you want me gone?”
“Mhmm. I’m exhausted and I don't plan on jumping on anyone’s cock tonight. Besides, I’m sure Mingi is waiting for you.” You pushed him gently for the door, glad he was at least moving now.
He stepped out a moment later, Mingi still out in the hall but so was Wooyoung, both wearing solemn expressions. Wooyoung hung up the phone the second he saw you, both of them lighting up at the sight of you.
Yunho smiled over at Mingi and quickly pulled him into an embrace, now pressing their lips together. You laughed, shifting to rest your hand on your hip. “Point proven Yunho.”
“Are you still upset?” Wooyoung asked from your other side, reaching out for your arm and latching on.
Tearing your eyes from the two giants now making on- seemingly having forgotten you- you turned towards him. “I’m good Wooyoung, why don’t you head home?”
He pouted, glancing over at the two towers as Yunho mumbled things for just Mingi’s ears. “Mm… alright. Just, one more question.”
“Yeah?”
“San wants you to call him. He won’t stop pestering me for details. And uh-” He quickly kissed your cheek. “Call me if you need anything, Goddess, not just to get off.” He was almost shy as he offered it up, which you found endearing.
Taking his hand in yours, you pressed a soft kiss to the mole under his eye. “I will. Go rest. And you-” You turned towards Yunho and Mingi then, “please don’t be too loud.”
Unfortunately they took that as a challenge. Even going so far as to moan your name. It irritated you, caused you to toss and turn and wish that you had taken up Wooyoung’s offer now if only to spite them.
You were ready to do so the next day, hearing a knock on your apartment door. You were already reaching out to grab his shirt to pull him in and take him up on his usual offer when you realized that it wasn’t Wooyoung.
Seonghwa stared down at your hand on his mesh shirt, brows knitted together. He didn’t say anything until you quickly retracted your hand and stepped back, rambling apologies. “May I come in?” Quickly you stepped back to let him in, taking in the mesh shirt over a tank top, as well as jeans with an attached half skirt and boots, even his hair and makeup was done differently.
As soon as you shut the door, before you even got a chance to speak he said “We need to talk.”
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Taglist (form): @mingsolo | @wowie-hockey | @crispybaguettes | @tiny-apocalypse
| @philijack | @lelaleleb | @isiloiale | @vannabanana1995  | @piratequeen-queenofgames
| @starstruckforyou | @minheeskitten | @amphiroxx  | @cloudysannie | @sugarnspice630
| @sanhwalvr | @plutoneu |  @sousydive |  @fatalt | @iwishiwasrichasfuck
| @bitchwhytho | @st4rhwa | @thesafecafe | @alextheweeb7 | @ddaeing
Taglist will be continued in a reblog!!
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ihavemanyhusbands · 4 months
Text
High Risk
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PART ONE: STAR PATIENT
Mini-series masterlist
Also on AO3
Pairing: Hannibal Lecter x Nurse!Fem!Reader
WC: 3.5k words
Series Summary: You, a nurse at Baltimore State Hospital for the Criminally Insane, are assigned to the newest inmate -- none other than the Chesapeake Ripper, otherwise known as Hannibal Lecter. He is nothing short of charming, but the dangerous mysteries that lurk beneath are equally alluring. So much so that you can barely resist the urge to uncover them all.
Warnings: MINORS DNI 18+ ONLY, canon typical violence (mentions and some descriptions), slight canon divergence (here frederick is still director of the hospital), corruption, manipulation all around, eventual smut, secret affair(ish?), sort of power imbalance, ongoing murder investigation (the red dragon), cursing, not-so-slow burn, hannibal being hannibal pretty much, aaand that’s all I can think of but lmk if something should be added!
—————
“A woman being never at a loss…. The devil always sticks by them.” — Lord Byron
———-
Much like the Minotaur’s labyrinth, Baltimore State Hospital for the Criminally Insane was designed never to let one escape. At least, that’s how you viewed it, even if you were a worker and not a prisoner there. 
Still, you weren’t sure that was any better.
The place’s immaculate cleanliness was almost unnerving, but it was fitting. The walls were a glaring white, and the floors were always polished until they shone. The hallways were meant to confuse those who hadn’t actively tried to memorize them, every corner seeming the same.
Your uniform had to be impeccable too, lest you made the place look bad. It was absurd how much laundry you had to do, and how much time you had to spend on your appearance. All for it to go to waste whenever things got messy with rowdier inmates. 
But despite it all, there was a certain allure to the place that made you want to return each day. Something morbid, almost sinister, like a secret waiting to be uncovered. It was irresistible, and it would be until you found it out.
Doctor Chilton had just given you the rundown about the new inmate, stressing the importance of following protocol when dealing with him. He’d handed you his file to look over and on the very first page, there was a picture of the man they called the Chesapeake Ripper — Hannibal Lecter. 
You were taken aback for a moment, not expecting him to look like that. Luckily, the Doctor did not seem to notice your reaction, and you quickly made sure your expression was neutral once more.
Despite having worked there for a few years, witnessing all sorts of things, you were a little rattled by the way he spoke about him. Especially after mentioning he didn’t want to lose any more nurses, alluding to the incident with a former inmate, Doctor Gideon.
As it turned out, Hannibal was also a doctor, and you couldn’t help but shudder at the prospect of some macabre pattern forming. 
Of course, none of the other nurses wanted to be assigned to him, but Doctor Chilton trusted you to handle things well. You did what was asked of you and never caused any trouble. Truthfully, it wasn’t because you were particularly driven, but you wanted to fly under the radar and take it day by day.
And yet, it had still led you there, despite your efforts. 
You took the elevator down from the top floor, reading the file as you went. It was noted that the risk of him being violent was quite high, but he had thus far been cooperative with the staff. In fact, he had even turned himself in to the police, which was a detail that stood out to you. 
Considering his numerous horrific crimes, along with Doctor Chilton’s psychological assessment of him, he did not seem like a man who would let himself be apprehended so easily. It would gnaw at you, but you weren’t sure if you’d get the answers you suddenly seeked.
You left the file at your station to finish reading later, trying your best to ignore the looks of fear and pity some of the other nurses shot your way. Hopefully none of them would try to give you shallow words of affirmation, knowing you’d be the subject of gossip for the next week or so.
The maximum security cells were on the basement floor, but you stopped by the kitchen first to get his meal tray. You steeled your nerves as you passed through the extensive clearance, continuing down the hallway until you reached the very last cell, which was behind a set of double doors.
Was the light dimmer there, or were you imagining things? You could see shadows lurking in the corners of the room, an ominous feeling curling in your stomach. A cool gust from one of the AC vents made you shiver, but otherwise, you willed yourself to stay composed.
Finally, you dared to look into the actual cell. It was much nicer than most of the other cells, equipped with two bookshelves, a large mahogany desk, and some elaborate sketches that were taped on the walls. Perhaps part of a bargain struck with Doctor Chilton based on his cooperation with the authorities. 
Then again, he was the new star patient, so that probably earned him a few more privileges. Despite those small luxuries though, you knew it’d be hard for him to forget that he was incarcerated.
Hannibal himself was lying down on his cot, reading, but he sat up as soon as you entered. He was even more handsome in person, almost rakish, and you allowed yourself the smallest pause to continue looking at him. 
He had a fine nose, dark eyes, and an aristocratic air to him. Not to mention, a full, obscene mouth that was surely meant to cast impure thoughts. 
Somehow, you had to admit that even his slate gray jumpsuit fit him quite well. If he truly was the Devil, then word of his burning, unholy beauty was not a lie.
“Good afternoon,” he greeted with a smile that you were sure had charmed many in the past.
“Good afternoon. Stay where you are, please,” you said firmly but politely, returning the smile just slightly. “I’ve brought lunch.”
He obeyed, hands resting on his knees. Slowly, tentatively, you made your way to the slot in the glass where you could deposit the tray. 
“Please don’t retrieve it until I’m gone, and let a guard know when you’re done so they can collect it.”
He nodded, smile still in place. “Thank you.”
You began to retreat, feeling his gaze fixed on your back. It wasn’t until your hand was on the door knob that you realized your heart was racing. Adrenaline was dancing beneath your skin like little bolts of electricity, but at least your breathing was even. 
What was it that had affected you so deeply? Was it the thrill of looking into the eyes of pure evil? 
No, that was far too simple, and therefore what you had expected… but that wasn’t all you’d been able to see. It was hard to decipher just at first glance, but you hadn’t been brave enough to hold eye contact for long. And you certainly weren’t any braver when you returned to deliver his supper later that evening.
He was still all smiles and charming obedience, but you noticed his eyes wandered a lot more. It might have been a little amusing, if you weren’t so nervous. If anything, to have his attention was both intimidating and bewitching.
It made you want to say something more, but you weren’t sure what. Still, you knew better than to engage too much outside of protocol.
Or at least you thought you did. 
--------------------
Moonlight slipping through the foliage, anointing the darkened world in silver. A deer silently drank from a stream, unaware the hunter had spotted it. Head bent, throat long. It would be an easy shot, arrow cleanly piercing the jugular. 
It ran, but it did not get very far.  Its wide, ink-black eyes were looking up at the beautiful face of the moon, silhouetting the hunter. Its weakening heart leapt at the sight.
The last thing it saw was his knife.
---------------------
You woke up with a start, panting and confused. Sleep slid off you slowly, like a veil uncovering your eyes. Your hand unconsciously went to your throat, but unsurprisingly, you found no arrow’s fletching.
Two weeks had passed with nothing especially of note. You had read the entirety of Hannibal’s file, the details of his brutality leaking out into your life beyond Baltimore State Hospital.
It was hard to peel off all the misery embedded in its walls, especially being exposed to it daily. It was easier to compartmentalize instead, letting your mind go blank at the end of the day. But the dreams were an inevitable torment, nonsensical and intensely vivid.
You sat up in bed, rubbing your eyes and sighing into the silence of your small bedroom. You stared into the middle distance for a few minutes, mentally preparing to start your day. 
In the time that had passed, you had exchanged a few more words with Hannibal that were not part of protocol. He had asked your name, his tone kept carefully casual, and you thought it only fair to tell him. 
After that, he had ventured to ask more innocuous questions about yourself, perhaps trying to test the limits of your interactions. You had answered most of them truthfully but vaguely, worried about him psychoanalyzing you.
Something told you he'd also know if you were lying, so you figured it’d be mostly useless to try. But you were entitled to your secrets, too, and you preferred keeping your cards close to your chest.
Yet you were also aware that it would not deter him, but unbeknownst to him, you were just as headstrong. 
Later, after having slipped on your mask of cool indifference and clocking into work, you brought down his breakfast. You found him at his desk, sketching. He glanced up without moving his head, pencil still moving.
“Good morning,” he greeted. “Is it nice out today?”
“Depends on what you consider ‘nice’,” you said mildly, making slow work of depositing his meal tray. “It’s been intermittently raining since last night, and I don’t think it will stop any time soon.”
“Not bad at all,” he said, his tone ever so slightly wistful. “I do quite enjoy rain. I hope you didn’t forget your umbrella.” 
Strangely, you couldn’t help but feel a little sympathy for him. The sudden loss of freedom was an unbearable thought to you, and you didn’t really wish it on anyone. But that wasn’t to say he didn’t deserve to be in the position he was in.
He noticed you hovering but not saying anything. Finally, his pencil halted and he looked up at you, leaning forward slightly. His assessing gaze pinned you in place, but your body was tense and ready to flee.
“You sound tired. Did you sleep poorly?” He asked.
You blinked in surprise, the question snapping you back to the present. Lowering your gaze, you inclined your head.
“I’m fine, thank you for asking,” you said politely. “I should get going, I’ll be back in an hour.”
He pursed his lips in what seemed like irritation, but he didn’t press you. Instead, he stopped you once more by changing the subject. 
“Before I try to talk to Frederick about it, there’s something I’d like to ask you,” Hannibal said.
You looked at him with apprehensive curiosity. “I cannot promise you anything, but you may ask me.”
“I would like to draw you, if you’d model for me,” he said. “Simple stuff, all of it appropriate. I promise. I’m just in dire need of a muse.”
“What makes you think he will say yes to such a request?” You asked, not yet processing everything in your state of shock. 
He smirked. “He needs my help with certain things, so it’s only fair I get something in return.”
You crossed your arms over your chest. “And… Why the interest in me, specifically?”
“It would be a sin not to immortalize features like yours.”
Heat crawled up to your face and your arms tightened against your torso, but you kept a mostly neutral expression on your face. You weren’t sure if he was being serious or just toying with you to unnerve you, but you had a feeling it was a mixture of both.
You weren’t going to give him the satisfaction of a bigger reaction, but it was likely he could still tell he’d rattled you. The worst part was that deep inside, you also took his interest as a compliment, but there was no way you would let that show.
“I’ll give it some thought,” you said slowly, unsure why you were even considering it. “Pending Doctor Chilton’s approval, of course.”
“Of course,” he said with a nod. “Take all the time you need. I’ll be here.”
With that, you left, floating down the corridor as if detached from your body. The whole situation had a feeling of unreality to it, and you kept expecting to wake up once again.
As you got to the nurse’s station, another nurse told you that Doctor Chilton had summoned you to his office. You blinked at her in surprise. Impossible… Had Hannibal really been so fast?
Next thing you knew, you were knocking on the door to his office, turning the knob when you heard him grant you access.
“There you are,” Doctor Chilton said, one hand resting on his cane. “Close the door behind you and take a seat, will you?”
You dipped your chin in compliance and mechanically followed instructions. For what seemed like an eternity, he said nothing, studying you instead. You shifted slightly in your seat, instinctively returning the favor if only because you didn’t want to be the one to look away.
He himself had been a victim of Hannibal’s more than once, and his body bore all of the evidence. Still, the Doctor had an undeniable obsession, using any and every opportunity to brag about Hannibal’s capture.
Clearly, the impact had been more than skin deep. No one ever dared to outwardly gossip about it, but it was well-known regardless.
It wasn’t often that you dealt with him directly, and you were being painfully reminded of why you preferred it that way. 
“Did…” you began, but he interrupted.
“I watched it all through the cameras. He knew I would be when he asked you that.” He leaned forward on the desk, hands clasped. “Wise choice not to give in just yet.”
You couldn’t help but balk at this. “I beg your pardon?”
He raised an eyebrow. “It must have been a tempting offer, to be the Devil’s muse. I would not blame you if you were at least a little flattered.”
Your eyes, just like your resolve, were like steel. “Why have you called me here, if I may ask?”
His smug, easy grin faded as he let out a long sigh, his patience wavering for a moment. 
“Hannibal is right about my needing him, though I am not the only one who does. The reason why is classified, as you can imagine, so I cannot tell you much,” he said, keeping his tone bored as if he couldn’t be bothered to explain it to you. “What I’m trying to understand now is why he wants you in return.”
“I’m just as confused, trust me.”
“From what I have observed, you don’t speak much, even if he has tried. I wonder if the challenge interests him…” he drifted off thoughtfully for a moment. “Though I suppose he’s always liked to surround himself with pretty things, too.” 
You stiffened, taken aback by the strange compliment. “And so you are expecting me to say yes?”
“I’m not expecting, no, but I’m sure you’ve gathered that this goes beyond Baltimore State. Of course, should you choose to assist us, you would not only be generously compensated, but I would be immensely grateful, as well.”
You thought about it for a moment. The additional income would definitely be helpful, but you had to admit you were also growing more and more curious about the whole thing. What else did you have going on, otherwise? 
Still, you had to try and cover all your bases first. You couldn’t make it too easy for him, after all.
You slightly tilted your head to the side.“Grateful… so you could call it a favor, then?”
He raised both eyebrows. “A favor?”
“Yes, Doctor. He’s a highly dangerous patient and you are asking me to spend longer periods of time – I’m presuming alone – with him. The safety of all staff should be your top priority, right?” you said pointedly, crossing your arms over your chest. “What use is money if no one’s alive to collect it?”
His green eyes narrowed as he seemed to weigh his options. Your face remained implacable, though there was also a challenging shade in your features that he did not miss. Otherwise, he could not get a very good read on you, and that suddenly intrigued him. Perhaps you’d be more useful than he’d originally thought.
“Right… You make a good point,” he finally conceded. “Well, I am a man of honor, after all. Anything you might need, you can always ask.” 
You smiled as genially as you could. “How gracious of you, Doctor Chilton. Thank you.”
His false smile was more like a sneer. “Of course. You don’t have to give your final answer now, but…”
“I accept,” you said, cutting him off. “I am honored by the opportunity.”
—-----------------------------------------------------
“How close are you able to get to the glass?”
“Up to ten paces away,” you said, taking your cardigan off and draping it over the back of the chair you’d brought. “Should be close enough, no?”
“Not nearly,” Hannibal said with a small, flirtatious smile that you did not return. 
Still, he could see a flicker of amusement cross your face, softening you infinitesimally. It only made him ache all the more to see you up close. He felt a sudden thrill that warmed his extremities — a feeling he recognized but had not felt for some time.
“Doctor Chilton has given us two hours, so I’d advise you to use the time wisely,” you said, slightly lifting an eyebrow and setting your hands on your hips. “How would you like to start?” 
“Just as you are, at your most natural,” he said, picking up his pencil. “Let’s see…”
It was strange at first, to have him stare so intently at you. You, who were seldom cowed by anything, could still barely keep eye contact with him. As an excuse, you offered your profile, turning your body to face the wall. 
He complimented the elegant swoop of your neck and you rewarded him with a demure glance and soft words of gratitude. His grip on the pencil tightened, his heartbeat spiking. You caught the way he shifted slightly in his chair, swallowing hard. 
Despite your icy exterior, you felt a thrill at the effect you seemed to have on him. 
You hadn’t been instructed to do anything but show up, but you knew instinctively that it would take more than that to keep Doctor Chilton’s favor… and Hannibal’s interest. Luckily, you were well versed in the art of slow seduction – giving just enough, but then withdrawing in equal measure.
Not to mention, it felt safer to do so on the other side of the glass.
Once or twice, he gave you brief instructions on how to pose your arms or which way to angle your head. You fell into a sort of meditative state, the reality of the whole situation slipping away from you, as well as the passage of time. 
When your watch’s timer went off, he seemed to snap back into focus at the same time as you. You looked up, startled at the sight of all the sheets of paper strewn about the desk. You noticed his hands were stained with graphite as he set his pencil down.
Curiosity got the best of you, and you took a step closer if only to try to get a glimpse. There was an almost frantic quality to the sketches, as if he was worried he might not be able to trace all the lines he wanted to in time. You weren’t able to gather many details from that angle, but you did not doubt his talent. Something about those hands…
“Productive first day,” you said, lightly teasing him to distract yourself from other thoughts passing through your mind.
A smile and the faintest dip of his chin. “I have not been so inspired in a while.”
“You flatter me too much. I’m sure it wasn’t just due to me,” you said, looking behind him at his bookshelf. “What are you currently reading?”
He seemed momentarily surprised at your interest, glancing over his shoulder and slightly raising his eyebrows. 
“Byron, actually.” He chuckled as he saw your reaction to the poet’s name. “The irony of it is not lost on me, trust me.”
You looked away. “You’re finding beauty where you can. I understand.”
“I always have, in my own way,” he said. “I have a feeling you might relate.”
“In places like this, there is no other choice,” you said, noncommittal. “Not if you want to survive it.”
“The great object of life is sensation,” he quoted. “To feel that we exist, even though in pain.”
You let out a short exhale as you slipped your cardigan back on. How curious that he would be a romantic, but you supposed, in a way, it made sense. 
Free of being a so called muse for the day, you withdrew back into yourself. He’d gotten the barest glimpse of another side of you — softer, more open — and that had to be enough for the time being. 
Had to leave him wanting more, after all.
“I will see you bright and early tomorrow, Hannibal. Get some rest.”
------
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smeddiemunson · 2 years
Text
(part 1 here)
After they narrowly escape being fucked up by what Eddie had planned for them (a goblin ambush they were completely underprepared for), the Hellfire members took their sweet time in clearing up after themselves; an unspoken agreement between the older members to hang around long enough to see just how Eddie behaves around Steve.
Gareth didn’t think Dustin had figured it out. He just connected dots he doesn’t know are on the same playing board, Eddie’s mystery crush and Steve’s favourite song nothing more than a coincidence. Or at least Gareth hoped that’s how it’s playing out, he knew it took a lot, more than his posturing would ever imply, for Eddie to reveal his big secret to the band. He didn’t want Eddie to have to confront that again until he felt ready, even if it is just to some kids.
Jeff was kneeling on the floor, reaching under the table where he pretended to drop a bag of dice when Steve began to make his way down the stairs.
Over his shoulder he called out, “Thank you, Mrs Wheeler!”
Jeff didn’t see the way Eddie perked up just at the sound of his voice, but Gareth and Grant certainly did.
“Are you flirting with Mrs Wheeler again, Stevie?” Eddie teased, ignoring the way Mike retched and groaned about it being gross.
‘Stevie?’ Gareth mouthed to Grant, who just shrugged. Nicknames are a dime a dozen when Eddie decides he likes a person. Gareth had been Gare-Bear for as long as he’d known him, Jeff was Jeffy, and Grant got to be ad-Grant-age. Stevie was a bit different, Stevie was close, affectionate in a way that the nicknames that usually spilled from Eddie’s lips weren’t.
This was maybe worse than they thought.
The last crush Eddie had was there and gone almost in a blink of an eye. Connor from his home room who doodled stick figure drawings of their teachers to pass to Eddie every morning until the jocks got to him and Eddie was cast aside again. But for two precious weeks, Eddie was happy, nice, and didn’t freak when Grant snapped a guitar string that meant they couldn’t practise until he got his hands on a replacement.
This was wholly different. Steve didn’t even bat an eyelash at the affectionate tone, in fact, Gareth thought he saw a faint pinkness colour his cheeks; though he didn’t know if it was just the heat of the basement that did it.
“Convincing her you haven’t yet corrupted her children more like,” Steve laughed.
Jeff, who had now appeared from under the table, made a half aborted motion towards Mike that only Gareth and Grant could see from their side of the table. There was no question that Eddie had sunk his claws into Wheeler and the boy was fully corrupted. If they didn’t know better, they could’ve confused Mike for Eddie’s brother, the resemblance now so uncanny.
Eddie smiled. A real one that took up his whole face and made his eyes sparkle.
Definitely worse than they thought.
Steve turned to the kids. “Henderson, you’re with me. Byers you’re with Eddie. Sinclair, I trust you can walk next door without supervision?” He glanced at his watch while Lucas nodded as if this weren’t the first time he’d been questioned in such a way. “And we’ve got thirty minutes until curfew so get moving.”
The kids, naturally grumbled but they didn’t argue, which was yet another weird thing for the Corroded Coffin boys to experience. Those kids argued with everything.
“Oh hey, Ed, Argyle is getting in late Friday night so pool party at mine on Saturday. You in?” Steve dug his hands into the front pockets of his jeans, trying to act casual, as if he didn’t care about Eddie’s answer. But it was clear as day to Gareth, who didn’t even know him, that Steve really really cared.
Eddie’s face fell. “Sorry, band practice on Saturday. We’ve got a show coming up so…”
Gareth jumped in before he had to watch either of them start crying. “You can go after, Eddie. My mom’ll kill me if we spend all day in the garage anyway.”
Steve’s face lit up like it was Christmas morning.
Now Gareth couldn’t be certain, he wasn’t certain about anything in his life except for his love of Iron Maiden and the reality that he was never leaving Hawkins, but he was fairly sure Steve Harrington might just return Eddie’s feelings.
“Awesome! Hey, you guys should come too! It’s only gonna be a small thing: me, Robin, Nancy, Jonathan and his friend Argyle.”
“Um, thanks, but—“ Jeff cut off in his refusal with a groan as Gareth and Grant not so subtly dug their elbows into his stomach.
They were going to have to spend more time in the orbit of Eddie-and-Steve if Gareth was going to be able to figure out if feelings were a two way street. He wasn’t super excited about the prospect of spending all afternoon playing nice with rich kids, but he’d done worse things for the sake of making Eddie happy. He could do this as well.
“We’d love to!” Grant filled in a little too excitedly. Gareth shot him a look that hopefully conveyed his need to calm down.
“Where do you live?”
Steve smiled. “Teddy knows, he’s been enough times. Oh and you’re welcome to crash after, if you want. There’s enough space.”
“Teddy,” Gareth echoed. They all knew about Eddie’s mom’s nickname for him. Eddie’s dead mom’s nickname for him, and the way he never wanted a reminder.
Steve laughed. “Yeah because he’s just so cuddle-able!”
Eddie, through clenched teeth and a bright red blush, hissed. “Shut up.”
Oh and his eyes pleaded with Gareth to let it go, that they wouldn’t talk about it later.
Clue 5. Eddie was completely aware of how smitten he was.
“We’ll be there, Harrington,” Gareth said, the finality on the matter that Jeff would be arguing with him about later.
Steve smiled so wide it was almost blinding. He left with a squeeze to Eddie’s shoulder, hand lingering longer than necessary, and Dustin moaning about why the kids hadn’t been invited to a pool party.
There were two things Gareth knew for sure. One: Eddie wasn’t just crushing on Steve Harrington, he was well on his way to being in love with him. Two: Steve was either just the chillest guy alive (unlikely) or he returned Eddie’s feelings.
Either way, Gareth had some meddling to do.
(part 3)
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enthusiasticharry · 3 months
Note
I also might have a few ideas of a few scenes that take place between each of the years (maybe even one from Harry’s POV of when he realised his love for governess!yn!)
Ah this sounds so good!! Write it babee!!
I may have an idea (if you are comfortable writing smut) like they have sex for the first time after giving birth to nathaniel and she is lil insecure cause after her pregnancy thinks that Harry may not like her body and all
orrr a domestic day were H makes breakfast for everyone and nathaniel is 2 or 3 years old and they all spend time together??
I don't know if it's a good idea but write anything I will read about them!!💗
Suffer in Silence
Daisies (Part One) ; Edelweiss (Part Two)
summary: after the birth of YN and Harry's first child, YN finds herself struggling to believe that Harry still desires her and he wants to prove that is not the case.
author's note: a lil extra for the governess!yn universe!!thank you so much for this ask!! the second that I saw it I knew that I had to write it for them!! the second request is certainly in the works, so watch out for that in the future!!!
word count: 3.2k
warnings: smut, discussion of body image postpartum.
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Pregnancy was a beautiful thing.
YN was never, ever in her life going to dispute that. It was, as far as she believed, one of the most beautiful things that a woman could do. The fact that beyond their scientific knowledge, the body was prepped and able to change and adapt to protect a child that was made (in YN’s case especially) as a result of the love between her and her husband. It was completely astonishing to her, and she would never change that experience for anything in the world. No matter the sickness she experienced, the tumultuous changes in her emotions or the constant fatigue that wracked her body – YN would do it all over again for Nathaniel.
He was the missing piece to a puzzle that YN did not even know she needed. He brought life and light into the family, and more importantly, love. The way that Noah and Norah had accepted Nate into their lives, and even more so the way he brought them so much closer together. They were a family, and no matter what YN had endured to get here, she would never change it for the world.
Every woman experienced pregnancy differently and YN would never, ever dispute that fact. Her pregnancy had not been easy, but Nate was the reward. A very beautiful, charming reward.
The only way that YN could describe how she felt now was that something was missing within her. She would never blame Nate for this – he was the newly found light in her life. However, she would certainly be lying if she said that Nate’s pregnancy had not changed her in certain ways.
To YN, the change that had recently become too difficult for her to ignore was her body. The one (more reasonable) part of her brain continued to remind her that her body had done a wonderful thing, it had grown their son, kept him safe for nine months and then helped welcome him safely into the world. The other part, the one that held centre stage right now as she stood in front of her mirror was what plagued her.
Her stomach, which had been stretched to accommodate Nate in his growing had not returned straight away to its normal state (which YN had not expected at all) but now that Nathaniel was nearing five months, she thought there would be some sort of normality returned. Instead, there was still loose skin and greying lines which held a pink hue (not as prominent as when she was pregnant, but still there) littering her stomach, hips, and thighs.  Her breasts, fuller than they had before had their own lines which reminded her daily of their change also. Again, there was the rational part of her brain that tried to remind her that her breasts had changed to be able to feed their child, but her brain often could not focus on that.
YN’s head was tipped as she looked herself up and down, her body bare apart from the dressing gown that rested upon her shoulders. It was difficult to focus on the benefits of the changes to her body, especially when the only word she could think of when she looked at herself was ugly.
She could not stop those thoughts, even more so when she tormented herself with the ideas of what would happen if Harry were to see her in such a state.
Before the pregnancy, and even during, Harry had always been remarkably touchy with YN. It was as though there was a pull that meant that a part of his body always had to be touching hers – whether that was a hand in hers, an arm over her waist as they slept or knees touching as they sat side by side. YN, once these thoughts had settled within her brain, found it difficult to shake them. It meant that, without necessarily thinking of the effect of such, she had pulled away from Harry in these last few months.
It had meant that when their nights had once been filled with soft kisses and lingering touches now found both of them falling asleep with a gap big enough for another person between them. It frightened YN, as much as it upset her. She had no way of knowing whether or not they would return to normal, or if there would be a point in which YN was comfortable enough to be that way with Harry again.
She had not even realised within her thoughts, as she stared at herself in the mirror that tears had begun to fall. They were light, but they were there.
YN sighed, shaking her head, and pulling her dressing gown closed, and that was when Harry opened the door to their bedchamber. YN gasped, watching as his eyes moved from hers down her body until meeting hers once more.
“What is it?” Harry stepped further into the room, closing the door behind him, immediately noticing her tear-stained cheeks, “What is wrong?”
“Nothing is wrong,” YN shook her head, pulling the fasten of her dressing gown tighter to her body, “I am just tired, I think. It is nice to have a child-free evening I suppose, as much as I miss them.”
“I would not worry about them,” Harry shook his head, moving even closer towards YN, “My mother is probably spoiling them rotten, and you know how much Nate lights up when Nana is around.”
YN smiled, but she could not help when that smile dropped the second Harry grabbed her hand, spinning her around so that they were looking into the mirror. He wrapped his arm around her waist, YN gasping when she felt the weight of him on her body. His head dropped to her shoulder, pressing a kiss to the exposed skin of her neck (which she guessed was still his favourite place to be).
“We have not had a night alone in the five months since Nate was born,” Harry mumbled into the skin of her neck, “I want to know what has upset you so much.”
“Nothing,” YN shook her head, hoping that Harry would believe her, “I am just missing the children, that is all.”
“Now, whilst I know that is partly true… I also know that you are keeping something from me.”
YN turned her head slightly, looking up at Harry with tears in her eyes once more, “I am sorry.”
“What are you apologising for?” Harry asked, lifting one of his hands to brush YN’s hair off her face, “You have nothing to apologise for.”
“No, I do,” YN nodded, placing her hand upon Harry’s, “I have been distant, and I have been cold and I…”
“YN, stop it,” Harry shook his head, “You just had a child. I know that I do not come first to Nate, or to Noah and Norah – I know that. You do not need to apologise for that.”
“But, it is my fault that I cannot be with you in the way that you need,” YN shook her head, “That is my fault. It is my fault that you no longer have a wife that you desire.”
Harry went silent, and it was as though all of the worries that YN had felt were finally confirmed. She thought she would cry even more, but she felt more content than anything.
Then she did not feel that way anymore.
“Is that truly what you think?” Harry’s eyebrows furrowed, and then a look of hurt crossed his features, “That I do not desire you anymore?”
“How can you? I do not blame you; I would not desire myself with how I look right now.”
 Harry sighed and shook his head. It was then that a look of what can only be described as anger crossed his features. His finger lightly tapped YN’s cheek, moving her head so that she was facing herself in the mirror again.
“You truly think I do not desire you?” YN nodded as Harry sighed once more, “YN… you are the most beautiful woman I have ever laid my eyes upon. God, I do not even know where to start. Those eyes of yours… you always say that my eyes are your home, but yours are mine. The soft skin of your cheeks, I would nestle my lips into them constantly if I knew it was not proper to do so. And… your lips. YN, how I lasted so long in my life without your lips I will never know, but if you think now that I have experienced them I would ever let them go – you are sorely mistaken.”
The tears that were collecting in YN’s eyes now were not because of her feelings but of the effect of Harry’s words. The look in Harry’s eye told YN that he was far from finished, but what else that man could say she had no idea.
His fingers drifted from her cheek down her neck, lightly running his fingertip from the bottom of her ear downwards until it met the nape of her neck, and then he smiled once more.
“Now, your neck,” Harry chuckled slightly from behind her, “You know the love I have for your neck, and how if I could live there, I most certainly would.”
YN chuckled from the side of him, “That would be a most terrible inconvenience.”
“You are calling me an inconvenience now? I see how it is,” Harry’s words have a slight teasing edge to them, and she knew that it would not end there.
It was then that YN truly realised the extent to which her words had annoyed him. It seemed that no matter what he was to say next, the fact that he had to utter those words was enough for YN’s chest to start heaving. His attack continued, his fingers moving down the exposed skin of her neck and collarbone until it landed upon the thin material of her nightgown. YN gasped slightly, worry crossing her features immediately at what his next step was to be.
“YN,” His fingers moved from the hem of her nightgown to the material further down, inching closer and closer to the tie that held the gown closed. YN immediately dropped her hands upon his, stopping his movements from continuing.
“I will disgust you, Harry,” YN shook her head, “I do not look the same as I did before.”
“I do not want you to look the same as you did before,” Harry shook his head, “You could never disgust me, YN. Your body has changed and as a result of that change, we have Nate. I cannot even fathom it; I swear to you. You would never disgust me, YN I am in awe of you.”
It was as though all of the worries that had accumulated within YN’s veins dissipated the second he said those words, and she almost felt a sense of relief. Her body dropped backwards, relishing the feeling of Harry’s body against hers. Harry’s eyes found YN’s again, and all it took was one nod of YN’s head his hands moved to the tie of her nightgown. With a quick pull of the bow, the material grew loose around her body. As Harry moved to pull the material from his body, his fingers grazed the skin of her stomach and whilst she tried not to wince she found it difficult not to do so.
“You are beautiful,” Harry pulled the material so it fell from her body, exposing her to him, “And if you think I do not, that I cannot desire you just the way that you are you are sorely mistaken.”
YN exhaled a breath, “You do not have to lie.”
“I am not lying,” Harry’s words are soft but stern – as though he is truly attempting to make sure she sees herself the way that he does, “Your breasts, YN if I did not already think they were magnificent then seeing what they can do to feed our son, that would have sealed the deal for me.”
YN gasped as his hands planted themselves upon her breasts. The touch was light, but it was enough for YN’s body to reel. Her breasts were more tender than they had been before, and Harry seemed to know just that. His feather-light touch moved from the expanse of her breasts downwards towards her stomach, where they wrapped around her body once more.
“I do know how anybody would find the place that kept their child safe undesirable,” Harry whispered, leaning down to press a kiss to the skin of her neck, “It may not look the same, but who is to care? I love you and every part of you, and I always will. Nothing could stop me from such.”
YN sighed, watching Harry’s eyes in the mirror move down her body. That look, the want and dare she say desire that his eyes held made her prior thoughts almost laughable. She could not believe that she ever allowed herself to think such things. It was then that his touch continued, moving further and further down until it slipped between her thighs. YN gasped, unable to take her eyes away from the scene unravelling in the mirror before her.
“I gave you your space, as I wished for you to recover,” Harry mumbled, his teeth skimming the skin on her neck ever so lightly, “But if you think that I did not wish, did not dream of the moment that I was allowed to see you in such a state again you are truly mistaken. I missed every part of this, of seeing you, of feeling you.”
YN gasped when his finger slipped between her folds, finding its place where she needed it the most. Harry loved to tease her, especially in the bedroom and yet today there was none of that. He was worshipping her. He was worshipping every part of her body and proving to her that what he had said had not been a lie, no matter how much her mind had tried to convince her of such.
His finger began to circle her clit, gently before continuing down. YN gasped out, reaching to grasp his arm as he pushed his finger inside of her.
Of course, she had missed Harry in this way. It was as though once she had been given a taste, it was hard to go without it for so long. But, as Harry continued to work his fingers inside of her, the palm of his hand rubbing against her clit with every movement – she was shocked at how long it had truly been since she had felt this way, how long it had been since they had been with each other in this way.
“Harry,” She gasped once more, her nails digging into his arm. The thin material of his shirt did little to stop the feeling.
“I know, I know,” Harry nodded, nudging her head with his slightly so that she turned to him.
It was immediately that his lips found hers with such a force. YN whined slightly into his mouth as he removed his fingers from her, but it was not for long. Harry placed his hands on the small of her, spinning her around quickly. YN’s fingers found their rightful place in the hair at the nape of Harry’s neck, tugging slightly as he moved his hands down to the back of her thighs. He parted them, and with a quick tap, she knew what to do. She jumped up, wrapping her legs around Harry’s waist.
Their lips never parted as Harry skilfully carried her towards the bed. She landed on the bed with a slight thud, causing a giggle to emit from her lips. Harry’s gaze never left hers as he pulled his shirt open, and she was pretty sure that buttons went flying off in every direction of the room but at this point, she did not care. His trousers were next, and YN’s teeth sunk into her lip. If she needed one last reason to believe that he still desired her, he was giving it to her right now.
“Come here,” YN mumbled, spreading her legs slightly in hopes of inviting him to her, “No teasing tonight.”
“I have no idea what you mean,” Harry jested, with a raise of his eyebrow – but he still obliged her request, “I promise I will not.”
YN smiled. Harry’s hands rested by her head on the mattress, and YN rested hers on his shoulders. He gave her one last look, and the second that she nodded her head he pushed inside of her. YN gasped, pushing her body forward to connect her lips to his again. His thrusts were slow and gentle, as if not to hurt her but the second that she moved her hands down from his shoulders, and along his spine until they reached the curve of his bum, they began to speed up. YN moaned into Harry’s mouth, her nails digging into his peachy flesh.
Harry groaned into her mouth, a smile toying on his lips. As his hips started to move quicker, and hers joined him – all she could feel was him. All she could feel was his touch, his body, his love. It was all-possessing, and YN would not change it for the world.
“Harry… I’m –” YN gasped, pulling away from his lips to throw her head back in response to the pleasure he was causing her.
Once her eyes had closed, and his hips continued at their fast pace she had truly lost himself to him. At this point, there was no return for her. In a state where she did not feel truly like herself, Harry had pulled her immediately out of that. Harry watched her parted lips, her closed eyes, and her heaving chest.
She was beautiful to him and there would never, ever be a point that she was not.
“It is okay,” Harry dropped his head down so he could kiss her neck, and mumbled his words of encouragement into his ear, “It is okay, I promise you.”
YN gasped once more, her hands moving back towards his shoulders. She was sure that her nails were digging the ever-prominent crescent moons into his skin, but neither of them seemed to care at all. When she tightened around him, he groaned into her neck. It was as though neither of them could hold back on the pleasure that the other was giving, and it was enough for them.
It was as though once YN’s orgasm washed over her, Harry’s came soon after. They were always together, coaxing each other through the feeling – neither one of them moving too quickly without the other. It reminded her that whatever she needed, he was always there to help her and move her along. Whenever she tumbled, he was there to catch her.
This was love. This was the love that they deserved from one another, with one another.
Harry collapsed on top of her, moving to the side ever so gently to not squash her, but they still stayed as close to one another as they possibly could. YN smiled and accepted the light kiss that Harry placed on her lips.
“If you ever feel this way again, I want you to tell me,” Harry spoke, lifting his hand to run against her cheek lightly, “I do not want you to suffer in silence ever again.”
YN nodded lightly, “I will not.”
“I need you to promise me, YN,” Harry’s eyes were laced with concern for her now, “I love you.”
“I promise,” YN nodded, pressing another light kiss to his lips, “I love you.”  
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redstarwriting · 1 year
Text
protected
hobie brown x o’hara!reader
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request?: yes
request: “I know you’re probably busy 🙏🏽 but can I request a hobie x reader Where reader is miguels kid but from another universe and we were known as “dangerous” to the multiverse and miguel had to watch over us and we find out while hanging out with hobie and hobie has to comfort us as we try to process the fact that Miguel wasn’t our real dad and just someone keeping the mutliverse safe?
I really hope this makes sense i just don’t know how to make is make sense uk? 😭 💀”
requested by: @millerworld​
word count: 1.7k
genre: angst with some fluff
Warnings: language, mentions of childbirth death, big feelings of betrayal, probably horrible spanish, honestly a lot of angst
A/N: apologies for the wait for this one! i love writing angst though so i was rubbing my hands together like an evil lil bitch writing this. i apologize if the spanish is wrong/not how it would actually be said/worded. been a minute since i took a spanish course, so i am a little rusty. please enjoy, and thank you so much for requesting, love! :)
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Ever since you remembered your dad, Miguel O’Hara, was there. Of course, there are certain moments of your childhood you don’t remember, as every child has, but your earliest memory is your dad picking you up and soothing you as you cried at two years old. And ever since then, he was always there. Your friends at school would always say you were so lucky that you had a dad that was so devoted to you, and you agreed. To an extent. See, he was very particular about what he allowed you to do. It wasn’t in a negative way, necessarily, he was just protective. His favorite saying and your least favorite saying in your house was ‘I just want what’s best for you, cariño.’
It resulted in you staying home from school events, friend events, and generally any type of event where your safety could have been compromised. It caused you to be a bit of a loner, always hearing about the parties, the gossip, all of it instead of actually experiencing it for yourself.
Of course, it annoyed you.
It still does.
He’s loosened up a bit eventually, though, allowing you to go to work with him. Which also meant you got to meet many spiders. Quite a few of the spider-people quickly became your closest friends, as it was simpler and easier for your dad to keep tabs on you in Spider Society. Much to his chagrin, you quickly became best friends with Hobie Brown. The two of you were around the same age, and since you were annoyed at your dad and in your rebellious era, you got along swimmingly. A little too swimmingly, actually, which Miguel purposefully chose to ignore for the most part. Until he saw Hobie sucking his little one’s face off. Regardless, Hobie was always quick to validate all your conflicted, annoyed, and even positive feelings about your father. He even helped you come out of your shell and rebel against Miguel occasionally.
Miguel didn’t like this very much, but he also knew that Hobie was still a good influence on you. No matter how many times both of you tried to convince him that he wasn’t. But sometimes, Hobie would talk you into doing things that he very much disliked. Hated, even. And this time was one of those times. While he was out, containing a particularly difficult anomaly, Hobie convinced you to search through Miguel’s personal files on his supercomputer because he bet if your birth certificate would be anywhere, it would be there. When you found a folder with your name, you expected to open it to see some family pictures, hoping for your birth certificate with the name of your mom. Your dad never really talked about your mom, just that she passed away during childbirth. You stopped asking because every time you did, he would get very quiet and a guilty look would appear on his face. But you’d be lying if you said you weren’t curious. So you went into this endeavor excited to see what you might find out. Unfortunately, that excitement didn’t last for very long. See when you opened your file expecting these mundane things, that wasn’t what you were met with.
In fact, that was nowhere near what you found.
You found detailed notes all about you.
“What the hell,” you mumble, scrolling through the various pictures of you as an infant, with two adult strangers. Hobie said nothing, looking at all the pictures and skimming the important parts of all the files you were pulling up with a frown on his face. You stop on a specific picture of a woman holding you in a hospital bed. She was smiling.
And she was very much alive.
Tears immediately start to well up in your eyes as Hobie gently pulls your hands away from the computer. “Think that’s enough a’ that, love,” he says softly. You yank your arms away from him. “No.” You scroll to the next photo, seeing a man you’ve never met before holding you in the same hospital room, with the same strange woman right next to him. The next time you scroll, it’s a detailed account from Miguel about who you are. Notes from your dad declaring you a ‘danger’ and that you ‘must be contained somehow.’ Talk of your biological parents, their names, and how you had to be separated from them before ‘irreversible damage was done to the multiverse.’
You stare at the screen, and Hobie pulls your hands away again, successfully this time. He steps between you and the screens, blocking your view and slowly walking you backward and away from the files. You’re too shocked to say anything, the only thing you can do is quietly cry. Hobie opens his mouth to say something when Miguel’s voice rings out. “What do the two of you think you’re doing?”
The two of you turn your heads toward Miguel, and his annoyed frown turns to one of concern as soon as he sees the look on your face. “¿Qué tienes, mi corazón?” Miguel asks, his voice much softer as he approaches you. Hobie moves, positioning himself between you and your ‘father,’ and scoffs. “Think you got some explainin’ to do ‘ere, mate,” Hobie says, and Miguel looks at him confused. Then he sees what’s on the screen. A look of horrified realization spreads across his face, and he looks at you. “(Y/n), cariño, I can explain.”
“Don’t call me that,” your voice, albeit shaky, finally comes back to you. Hobie turns his attention to you, squeezing the hand you’ve been holding onto for dear life ever since he pulled you away from the computer. “(Y/n)—”
“Who am I? Who are you to me?”
“…Please, let me—”
“WHO ARE THOSE PEOPLE?!” you shout, desperately yearning for your dad to say they weren’t what was said in his reports. But all he does is frown. “They’re… they are your biological parents,” he confesses, and you make a choked noise. Hobie subtly begins turning his watch to his universe, ready to make an escape from your dad at any point. “If you just let me explain—”
“I’m a threat to the multiverse?” you choke out through your tears, “What the fuck does that mean, papá?! If I can even call you that.” Miguel’s jaw clenches. “Don’t forget who raised you.”
“How could I?! How could you?! Is this why you never let me do anything?! Too worried your querido bebecito would destroy the fucking multiverse?!”
“(Y/n). I did it to protect everyone.”
“What about me?! Did you ever plan on telling me?! How is separating me from my family protecting me?!” Hobie places an arm around your shoulder, pulling you closer and keeping you shielded by him as Miguel tries to step closer to you. Miguel glares at him, and Hobie glares back. Miguel holds out his hand in a surrendering way. “It was to protect you just as much, if not more, as it was to protect everyone else. If you would just listen—“
“No. No, I’m done listening to you.”
“Cariño—”
“I am not tú cariño. I am not tú corazoón. You are not mi papá,” you say, venom behind your words. You can practically see Miguel’s heart shatter into tiny little pieces.
That was the worst thing you could have ever said to him.
Before he can say anything else, Hobie opens the portal, pulling you through and closing it almost immediately. You find yourself in the familiar atmosphere of his flat. “C’mere, love,” he mumbles, pulling you into his arms. You grip his shirt, sobbing into his chest as he rocks you back and forth, softly shushing you occasionally and rubbing your back. After what feels like hours, but was really maybe a minute, he swiftly picks you up, carrying you bridal style to his bed as you continue to cry into his shirt. He sits down, placing a soft kiss to the top of your head and rubbing up and down your arm. He can’t help but feel guilty for this. If he didn’t convince you to look at the computer…
“Don’t blame yourself, Hobie… please,” you whimper, and he sighs. “Love, you needa stop bein’ so good at knowin’ what i’m thinkin’,” he mumbles, and you look up at him with a soft smile. “Can’t help it. Even your thoughts are loud,” you say, and he snorts. “Chuffed to see the cryin’ made ya feel better,” he says and you shake your head. “I still feel like shit, Hobie,” you whisper, and he frowns. He gently wipes some tears away from your cheeks. “Reckon all ‘at cryin’ has you knackered?” he mumbles, and you nod softly. He lays backwards, maneuvering the two of you to be laying down. The two of you face each other, one of his hands cradling the side of your face while the other soothingly rubs up and down your side. You grip onto his shirt, and he places a soft peck on your nose. “‘m sorry, love,” he says, and you sniffle. “I already told you it isn’t your fault.”
“‘Kay, still feel like it was,” he says, and you sigh. “That’s not important right now,” he mumbles, gently pulling you closer. “What’s important is that I make you feel better.” You look at him, your eyes are still glossy from tears. “Never met someone who looked so stunnin’ when they cry,” he says, gently stroking your cheek. You smile softly, and he does too. “There’s my favorite smile,” he whispers before softly placing his lips on yours. It’s only for a second, but it makes all the pain go away. And you’re grateful for that. Even if it is just for a second. “Get some sleep, love.” He kisses your forehead, tangling his legs with yours and pulling your head into his chest. You relax into him. He was right. The crying was exhausting. Before you know it, you’re asleep as Hobie gently traces shapes into your skin, whispering anything and everything he loves about you to you so softly that if you weren’t really listening, you wouldn’t hear any of it. No one makes you feel protected quite like Hobie does.
And even if it’s just for a moment, thanks to Hobie, you feel like everything will be okay.
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jihyoruri · 9 months
Text
❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ 𓍢 NOBODY KNOWS kazuha nakamura x reader
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warnings: yn is apart of kiss of life, yn is cheeky, kazuha is lowkey dying the whole time, swearing, fluff
kazuha watched as yunjin smiled at her friend that was across the room with her group who smiled back, both lesserafim and kiss of life were doing a knowing bros episode together and kazuha was finding it hard to not pay attention to a certain member of the other group.
yn just had a pulling aura to her that has had kazuha hypnotized ever since she’s met the older girl, she was lively,flirty and loud, a huge contrast to kazuha’s introverted personality.
“yn!” one of the guys yells grabbing the girls attention from her friend and she replies back with yes as loud as his completely matching the energy.
“you’re looking at yunjin a lot is she your bias.” he asks pointing to the lesserafim member who waits for her best friends response.
“nah,” yn says shaking her head causing yunjin’s mouth to drop in offence as everyone laughs, “my bias is kazuha, she’s a ballerina I’m an ice skater we go together really well.”
kazuha’s face heats up as her members ohhs at the girls comment teasing her which was a complete contrast to yn’s who hit the girl at her sly comment.
“ah, leave her alone!” yunjin yells pointing at her best friend across from her, yn only responding with a small smirk.
the interview went on for a little more with mostly yn and yunjin the loud members of their groups answering the questions and yell at each other from across the room but now it was time to play a game.
“yn! you are the victim of this game.”
“you will go against someone of the opposite group and you will standing across each other,” one of the guys start, “and we have a clip here that will monitor your heart beat, the person who gets the other person’s heart beat to speed up wins.” he finishes before giving a hat with the names of the lesserafim members to yn.
yn scans the girls while she shakes the hat, her eyes stop at the girl who was trying her best to avoid her eyes, “I hope I get sakura unnie.” she says teasingly, smiling when kazuha tenses when sakura lets out a flustered laugh.
there’s silence when yn pulls the name out of the hat a smile instantly making its way to her face, she brings the paper up to show everyone the names
kazuha.
before kazuha knows it she’s getting pushed to the middle by eunchae, while yunjin sends a pointed look to yn who ignores and smiles at her members before walking towards the younger girl.
while they get both yn and kazuha hooked up to the monitor, kazuha feels like her whole body is on fire as yn keeps her gaze on her and smiles at the fact that the girl is already flustered.
she does this on purpose, is all kazuha could think to herself.
once they’re finished getting hooked up both groups cheer for their members one more confident than the other.
kazuha instantly knows she’s gonna lose when all yn did was walk closer to her and she felt her heart rate speed up.
“oh!” one of the guys yell pointing at the monitor that showed kazuha’s heart rate.
she feels her face heart up when she hears yn’s laugh.
“she’s gonna kill the poor girl” she hears your member natty whisper.
and she was right every single thing yn did had the girl folding, kazuha knew it was over when yn leaned even more closer with a pretty smile on her face, she wasn’t even shock when she heard the dinging indicating that kazuha’s heart rate went completely up.
yn let a cheer and made her way to her members who shake her in victory, all girls being very competitive.
“she didn’t even have to do anything to get your heart rate up.” chaewon yells, “what happened?” she laughs patting kazuha’s shoulder who just looks down in embarrassment as the rest of her members join in on the teasing, she just couldn’t wait for the filming to be over.
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kazuha leaned against the wall and drank out of her bottle of water while her members talked to some of the staff, she couldn’t wait to go home.
“can I have a sip?” she turns to head to see a certain kiss of life member, zipping up her white fluffy jacket and fixing her leg warmers after.
she immediately gives the bottle to the girl who takes a sip out of it before letting out an exaggerated “ahh”
kazuha just stares at the girl who lets out a light hearted laugh, “what? you’re mad I got your heart rate up?” she asks teasingly.
kazuha pouts slightly and looks down which makes yn let out another laugh before adjusting the expensive headband on her head before bringing kazuha’s arm over her shoulder, urging the girl to walk with her.
“don’t be embarrassed.” she says pressing a kiss to the girl’s cheek, “ it’s cute how fast you got flustered.”
“leave me alone.” kazuha mumbles, her face heating up, “I was so obvious.”
“no you weren’t.” yn says pressing a kiss to the other side of kazuha’s cheek, “I mean come on it’s me, anyone would be flustered.”
kazuha rolls her eyes at the girls ego, “you also said you wanted it to be sakura unnie.” she says accusingly.
“I mean, who wouldn’t?” yn asks causing kazuha’s face to drop.
“I’m joking!” she laughs, “no need to get jealous zuha.” she added before finally placing a kiss on the girls lips which causing kazuha to melt completely and kiss yn back.
yn brings her hand to kazuha’s cheek depending the kiss causing the girl to smile.
“hey! kazuha, I’ve been looking for you everywhere, we’re ready to g-”
kazuha hits her forehead on yn’s accidentally at the sound of yunjin’s voice, both girls jumping away from each other immediately.
“ow!”
yunjin looks at her member and best friend in shock at what she just witnessed.
“what the fuck?”
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inuyashaluver · 10 months
Note
would you ever write a jessie fleming x reader fic??? love ur work you carry woso tumblr
something more - jessie fleming
jessie fleming x reader
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description: in which you’ve always wanted more out of your friendship with jessie, but maybe she’s willing to give that to you
warnings: kinda lonnggg
a/n: hiya! thanks for the request, also that’s the nicest thing ever, i did tear up at that literally thank you so much, the woso tumblr writers are truly phenomenal, enjoy!❤️
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you and your best friend, jessie fleming met during a friendly match between your national teams, canada and england. when you saw her for the first time, you have to admit, you thought she was beautiful. you were both midfielders, marking each other the whole game, you couldn’t help but flush a little red when she placed a hand on your lower back when you had the ball. good thing the air was cold.
england had won, you walked around to shake the hands of the canadian players when you felt a hand on your shoulder. “hey, (y/n) right?” you turn and face none other than jessie, your mouth slightly hangs open as she gives you a shy smile. “uh yeah! nice to meet you” she extends her hand for a handshake and you return it, her hands were so soft, you were star struck.
“well (y/n), good game, i hope to see you around” her smile never drops, her face is slightly red, she must be cold (nope). “yeah, you too, jessie” you smile at her and she waves goodbye at you. you watch her leave, her teammates teasing and shoving her. you tilt your head to the side, what was that reaction?
you turn to see majority of your team smiling at you, “what” you say, “nothing, nothing” leah says with a smirk, “alright girls, let’s get out of here” she comes up to you, putting a hand over her mouth as she whispers in your ear, “those pink cheeks aren’t fooling anyone, love” you shove her off you and run away, everyone laughing at your reaction.
you were signed to chelsea, you guys had training and were doing some light stretching for a warm up. you were doing partner stretches with your national teammate, niamh. you were helping her stretch when all of a sudden, a certain brunette walks through the door in a chelsea training kit, you drop niamh’s leg and she protests before following to where your eyes were.
your mouth was slightly agape, niamh hurriedly stood next to you and shut your mouth for you. “so she’s the new signing” niamh pointed out, looking at you worriedly because you hadn’t said anything. “how?” you breathe out, “well, my friend, she gets called by management and then comes here to sign a contract and boom! she’s here!” she mocks and laughs when you lightly slap her arm.
jessie was getting talked to by a member of staff when she makes eye contact with you. she smiles brightly and nods her head with a small wave. you smile back at her with a little wave, looking away when niamh was teasing you in the corner.
she quickly disperses when she sees jessie smiling and walking up to you.
“hey, (y/n)!” jessie pulls you into a tight hug, you hesitantly wrap your arms around her waist. “hey, jessie! nice to see you again” she pulls away from you, a bright smile spread on her face. “i didn’t know you were coming to chelsea” you say with a shy smile, “do you not want me here or something?” she remarks with a smirk.
“no no i do! i’m very happy you’re here!” you quickly grab her arm and she looks down at it, smiling, you let go thinking she was uncomfortable, missing her frown when you let go.
“i’m very happy you’re here too” she says shyly, you both smile at each other till you both get called for drills.
you partner up for drills, you can’t ignore the fact that jessie is extremely touchy with you. whether it was holding your arm, your hand or slinging an arm over your shoulder. you can’t help but lean into it every time, the affection feeling so natural and familiar to both of you.
the more you interacted with each other, the more you realised you had in common. she fit into the team well, but you couldn’t help but notice she didn’t interact with the others the way she did with you. sure she was extremely friendly, but she didn’t touch the others like she did with you, or talk to the others the way she did with you. you can’t help but wonder, maybe she felt somewhat the same? (obviously)
as the months turn into years, the two of you grow closer and closer. going out for lunches, buying each other little gifts, always partnering up during training, being the first to celebrate with on the pitch. you two had truly become best friends.
one day you were at training, absolutely exhausted, lying on the floor after a gruelling session. jessie comes and lies next to you, she places an arm under your head acting as a pillow, grinning when you lean into her more, sighing contemptly.
“what’s the plan now, (y/n/n)?” you move your head to look up at her to find she was already looking at you. “movie at mine?” you question, jessie immediately agreeing and pulling the both of you to stand up, slinging her arm over your shoulder while walking you to the change room.
niamh snickers when she sees you two sitting in your cubby, chatting. niamh sneaking a photo of the two of you and sending it to the lioness group chat - which you were in by the way!
“our little (y/n) is in love!” she texts under the photo, replies coming through quickly: “get it girlie!”, “holy shit”, “a canadian (y/n)? we could’ve gotten you a nice brit” you look at your phone and flush red, looking up at niamh across from you and flipping her off.
“you okay, babe?” jessie questions your frown, you nod your head at her with a smile, “yeah, let’s go now!” you quickly haul her up and shove her out the door, turning to niamh again, “you’re a little shit” you point your finger at her. she laughs brightly at you, waving at you and blowing you a kiss, “i love you!” niamh screams after you
you get to your house, jessie knew this place all too well, coming over nearly every day. you sat on one end of the couch while jessie lay her head in your lap. you were flicking through the movies trying to pick one to watch, jessie being no help, closing her eyes and sinking into your lap and couch.
you slot a hand through her hair and she hums at the contact, flipping over and nuzzling her head into your stomach, wrapping her arms around your torso and holding you close together. you embarrassingly let out a little squeak feeling her mouth graze your exposed skin where your shirt had ridden up. you can feel her grin into your stomach and you freeze when you feel her hand dip into the back of your shirt to trace light shapes with her finger on your lower back.
you were about to say something when you hear jessie’s phone ping on the coffee table. “read that for me?” she mumbles into your skin, groaning when you slightly lean forward to grab her phone. you freeze again, her wallpaper sending shivers down your spine, your mouth went dry.
her wallpaper was a candid photo of you wearing one of jessie’s hoodies when you got cold, her name “fleming” plastered on the front emblem over your heart and the back. you had such a happy smile on your face, pink cheeks evident on your face.
“babe?” she slightly pulls away from you, looking up at your shocked face, “you okay?” she questions, now removing herself from you and sitting up properly, holding your hand tightly. she only looks at your face until she sees what you’re looking at, her wallpaper.
“oh!” she starts worriedly, “sorry if that makes you uncomfortable, it’s just such a cute picture” she smiles sheepishly, going to let go of your hand but you hold her hand tighter.
all you could do was shake your head and look at her with blown out pupils. you quickly take out your phone out of your pocket and show your own wallpaper, a picture of her lifting you up in celebration as you hug her tightly. she grabs your phone from you and blushes as she inspects the photo, finally picking up the courage to look you in the eye.
“hi” you breathe out and she laughs brightly, “hey, beautiful” she returns with a grin. placing a gentle hand on your knee and absentmindedly running her thumb over it. “what are you thinking about, baby?” she questions, smiling at you encouragingly. “um” you breathe out shakily, gripping onto her hand tighter. “you” you swallow. she smiles at you, “oh yeah? what about me?” she whispers lowly, smirking at your flustered expression. you open your mouth to say something but nothing comes out.
“come on, baby, you can say it” she was always the one making the first move, wanting you to take over this time. she squeezes your lower thigh, giggling when you tense up. you avert your eyes from her, looking down at the coffee table, she ducks her head to follow your eyes and you instantly burn up.
“jessie” you start, “yeah, baby” she moves closer to you, nodding her head. “i like you” her eyes brighten and she smiles excitedly, “i like you too, ever since the friendly match, baby girl” you lightly shove her, “i told the girls before that i thought you were beautiful and they told me to make a move”
you decide to make a bold move and straddle her lap, she happily welcomes you and holds onto your hips, you were both completely flushed. “i was crushing on you majorly, fleming” she lightly pinches your waist, “i was more” she mocks, you shake your head at her with a grin, you move to whisper in her ear, “the lioness group chat is full of me and you, baby, everyone has been waiting for this” your lips lightly graze her ear and she grips your hips tighter, “you should see the canada one, baby” you both let out a laugh together, looking into each other’s eyes softly.
jessie’s eyes flicker between your own, occasionally falling to your lips. “can i kiss you, (y/n)?” giggling when you nod your head eagerly, she places a hand on your cheek and smiles at you again, leaning forward to place a soft kiss on your lips. suddenly feeling confident, you grab the back of her head and deepen the kiss by prodding your tongue on her bottom lip, your tongue moving with hers harmoniously. a small groan from the back of her throat comes out when you scratch her scalp with your nails, you whine into her mouth with a grin before pulling away from her.
you pull away breathlessly, tucking a piece of her hair behind her ear with a soft smile. you held the sides of her neck with both of your hands and place a soft peck on her lips. she smiles up at you and pulls the back of your head down to return the favour.
“you’re so pretty” she nuzzles her nose with yours. you wrap your arms around her neck and pull her into a hug. “you’re so pretty” you say, squirming when you feel her place a kiss on your neck.
when you come into training the next day holding each other’s hands, the girls cheer for you and jessie holds your hand up victoriously. niamh comes up and steals you away, lifting you up and running around the field. “hell yeah, (y/n/n)! proud of you!” you laugh brightly when she places you on the ground. “we’ve gotta find someone for you now, missy” you say cheekily and chase her around the field, you stop when she holds up a water bottle threateningly, you run and hop on jessie’s back.
“save me, baby!” she holds onto your thighs and runs from niamh, niamh seeing your matching smiles leaves you both alone when she sees you having so much fun.
you stay on jessie’s back during the team talk, your arms wrapped around her neck, occasionally whispering in her ear and joking around with each other. both of you were so happy, mainly both of your friends who had seen you pining over each other for so long.
⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆
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liked by niamhcharles17 and 44,232 others
_jessflem: oh, we’re dating btw @/yourname
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yourname: my baby ❤️
↳ _jessflem: no MY baby
lionesses: finally!!
↳ canadasoccer: finally!!!!
niamhcharles17: finally
leahwilliamsonn: finally
yourname: i will block all of you
↳ _jessflem: ditto, baby
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