#cause this year i get to still enjoy it ^^ | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

covenofagatha · 3 days ago

Note

Okay hear me out Agatha x Reader age gap fic. The reader and Agatha have been together for awhile I was thinking like she used to be your college professor before you graduated, The reader has a monthly night out scheduled with friends from school but Agatha like usual declines in your offer to join you all. Agatha just doesn’t have interest in the “young people bars” and hanging out with old students is strange to her, though it’s a little upsetting you don’t push too much before relenting and going on your way. A little bit into the night despite your efforts in avoiding said persons advances you’re being continuously hit on by either a stranger in the bar or a friend from the group that is your choice! But the resolve would be Agatha showing up cause she felt guilty about always declining, her witnessing and then defusing the situation (jealously obviously). I absolutely love possessive Agatha and love everything you’ve written so far! Whether it ends in smut is also completely up to you!!!

Hope you enjoy and thank you for the very detailed request!! This will be a two-parter and the next part will be based on a request I got about jealous reader x Professor Agatha.

A lesson in jealousy (Part 1)

Agatha gets jealous when she finds you at a bar and a guy is already talking to you.

Word count: 2100

Tags: marking, jealousy, making out, slight thigh grinding

“I was thinking of ordering pizza for tonight?” Agatha muses, already looking at you when you turn your head to face her.

You’re sitting on the couch in her office, nose buried in a book for one of your other classes. Agatha was your professor two years ago and there had been a spark, at least on your end, so you had kept in touch.

It wasn’t until a year ago when you had bridged the gap between a professional relationship and something more when you had kissed her one night after getting drinks at a bar across town.

You had immediately pulled back, apologizing incessantly, but much to your surprise, she had dragged you back in for more.

That night was the first of many that you spent in her bed.

Although she was no longer your teacher, you still attended the college that she worked at, so there was a bit of a gray area. Meaning, you two had to keep it under wraps.

“Oh, sorry,” you say, finally answering Agatha’s question. “I’m going out with my friends tonight. It’s our monthly bar trivia thing that we always do. I think I told you.” She hums and you frown. “What?”

Agatha shrugs. “Seems like we haven’t had a quiet night in awhile, that’s all.”

“You could always come tonight,” you offer hopefully. Her nose wrinkles and she raises an eyebrow and you know why she’s being like this. “You could just happen to show up and I’ll just happen to see you and I’ll invite you to join our team. It’ll be fun!”

And yet you know her answer before she even says it. “That’s not really my scene, baby.” You pout and slouch down further into the couch. She has never once taken you up on an invitation, even though you practically beg her every time. She rolls her eyes exasperatedly. It’s an old game for both of you. “Come on, hon, you know I have no interest in going to a bar with a bunch of college kids on a Friday night where everyone will be drinking and making noise and I taught most of your friends. I just think that it will be weird.”

A flash of anger bubbles up to protect you from the hurt you feel deep down. Would it kill her to do something for you? “I’m also a college kid who will be out drinking and ‘making noise’ and you were my professor two years ago. Is that weird?”

She sighs heavily and pushes her chair back, patting her thighs. She wants you to come over, but you grit your teeth and don’t give in. “Of course not. That’s not what I meant, obviously. Just spending my Friday evening with a bunch of college kids isn’t what I’ve wanted to do for a long time.”

You stand up, shoving your books and laptop in your bag and Agatha scoffs and says your name. You meet her eyes, disappointment written all over your face. It kills you to show her how much her rejection hurts, but you’re tired of it.

“Come here, please,” she says softly. You grumble but obey. You slide off your backpack and sit on her laps, tensely putting your arms around her neck. Despite how mad you are, you still fiddle with her strands on her nape that aren’t in her bun. She leans in to kiss your lips but you don’t let it go any further than a press of her mouth against yours. You won’t give in that easily.

“You never come,” you whine.

She tucks a piece of hair behind your ear. “I know, sweetheart. I just worry it might be risky for us to be seen out in public like that. Why don’t you come over after and we can have a movie night or something? I’ll take you to a bar tomorrow night, I promise. Just the two of us.”

You can see there’s no use trying to fight her on this. No matter what you say, she won’t come with you and you’d rather not have to open up and tell her how you want to just spend a night with the most important people in your life: Agatha and your best friends. You also feel a little insecure about being so young. She is over twice your age and you worry that sometimes you aren’t enough for her, or that she thinks you’re too immature. “Okay,” you say, voice small.

She squeezes your waist and gives you another peck. “That’s my girl. Don’t come over too late and I’ll make it worth your while.” She winks and you force a smile and climb off her lap.

“I’ll see you later, Agatha.”

“Hon, you don’t have to leave right now,” she calls but you’re already walking to the door. You wave a hand as a goodbye and you moodily walk back to your dorm.

You sulk the rest of the day and debate whether or not you even want to go out to the bar, but ultimately decide that you deserve it. You don’t need Agatha to have a good time, as much as you’d like her.

“There she is! It’s been awhile!” Natasha exclaims when you get to their table and claps a hand on your back. You wince but pull her in for a hug. You’ve been swamped with homework and when you do have free time, it’s spent with Agatha, so you have barely seen your friends in the past month.

“Sorry, I’ve been so busy,” you mumble while greeting Wanda and Maria, also at the table.

“First round is on you for neglecting us!” Wanda says and you laugh and happily go to the bar to order beers for the group.

“What can I get you?” The bartender asks when you finally make your way through the crowd.

“Four Pilsners, please,” you almost have to shout. Someone next to you bumps into you roughly and you jump.

“Oh shit, sorry.” A guy about your age turns around, with shaggy dark hair and blue eyes. Something about his features is so familiar.

“You’re good,” you say. “Do I know you?”

He stares intently at your face, trying to place you. He snaps his fingers. “Professor Harkness’s class, freshman year. Something about witchcraft. I sat in the row in front you. You were like the only one who actually knew what they were talking about. I think you were her favorite by a long shot.”

You blush at hearing that someone else picked up on Agatha liking you. “I don’t know if I’d say that,” you say coyly, smiling a little at the thought of the older woman.

“I’m James. So, uh,” the boy says, sliding a hand nonchalantly around your waist. You freeze. “What’s a pretty girl like you doing all alone at a bar?”

“I’m not alone,” you quickly say, stepping back so his hand falls off, and you point to the table with your friends. “We’re here for trivia night.”

His face lights up and he motions toward a different table with a group of guys. “We are too, but they all suck. Can I join your team?”

“Um-” You’re trying to figure out how to let him down gently when the bartender puts down the four beers in front of you. You reach for your wallet but James slaps a $20 on the counter.

“I got it,” he says proudly and then before you can protest, he grabs two of the beers and you follow with the other drinks, dumbfounded, as he walks over to your table. Your friends give you quizzical looks but you just shrug tiredly. You can’t find it in yourself to care that much right now.

The host of the trivia game comes around to each table and hands out the paper for answers and a pen. He asks the first question: when is Taylor Swift’s birthday.

You immediately say the answer and James pats his hand on your shoulder but it turns into more of a rub. Your eyes widen and your friends bite back a smile.

“I’m actually seeing someone,” you say and take his hand off of you. Your friends look even more surprised than he does. Even though you’ve been dating Agatha for close to a year now, you’ve been really secretive and change the topic whenever your love life comes up with them.

“Come on, baby, don’t be like that,” he says, raising his arms like he’s trying to show you that he’s harmless. He moves to touch you again but a hand darts out and grabs his wrist. You turn and your jaw falls open.

It’s Agatha, and she is positively fuming.

“I think she said she’s taken,” she growls and James backs off.

“Professor Harkness,” he stutters. “I wasn’t trying to do anything, we were just having a good time.” He turns to you, eyes pleading. It’s almost funny how scary he still finds the older woman. “Tell her, we were just talking.”

You wish he had said anything but that. Agatha whirls onto you. “Were you?” She hisses and you gulp. She scoffs as you protest and storms out of the bar.

Ignoring the looks from your friends, you chase after her down the alleyway.

“Agatha, wait,” you yell. “He kept hitting on me and I was trying to let him down gently but he kept trying. I told him that I was with someone else! I’m sorry.”

She spins on her heel and advances toward you. You stop like a deer in headlights and she shoves you against the brick wall before you can think. Her hands grab your wrists and pin them to the wall. You struggle futilely.

“Is this your pathetic attempt of getting back at me?” You furrow your brows in confusion and she laughs sardonically. “I was feeling so guilty earlier. You looked so sad when I didn’t want to come and I thought that maybe I could try, for you. I always say no and what a nice surprise it would be for my girlfriend if I showed up. And then what do I find? My pet is flirting with someone else. Not just someone, a sleazy college boy who would probably cum after two pumps because he’s so incompetent.�� She’s snarling, her face an inch away from yours, and you hate how turned on you are.

You’ve always liked it when she got possessive over you.

“I didn’t want him,” you say levelly. “I only want you.”

She huffs like it’s a joke. “Sure you don’t want the college fuckboy? Or any of the other people in the bar? They’d never hesitate to join you for trivia night.”

And then it hits you. She’s jealous because she’s insecure. She also worries about the age difference.

Your heart swells and you break free of her grasp to grab her cheeks and pull her in for a long and filthy kiss. You moan into her mouth when her tongue swipes against yours and she fits a thigh between your legs.

“I’m all yours, Agatha,” you groan when she tugs your bottom lip between her teeth and her eyes flash.

“You better be,” she warns and entangles her fingers in your hair so she can tilt your head to the side and sink a bite into the juncture of your neck and shoulder. Your hips buck on her thigh and you gasp when she sucks roughly. She trails up your neck, doing the same thing over and over, and you’re quickly reduced to a moaning, desperate mess.

Her other hand trails down to hold onto your hip, just feeling you shakily grind against her, trying to get some relief.

“Should I go back inside and get James to come out and watch this?” She asks against your skin, still marking you up. “So he knows what happens when he touches things that aren’t his?”

You inhale sharply at the thought and wish that she would just drag you back inside and fuck you right there on the table in front of everyone.

“Please,” you beg. She actually giggles and pulls back to admire her handiwork on your neck. She lightly traces over the marks and you shiver under her touch and intense gaze.

Agatha smirks when she meets your eyes again. “That should let everyone know who you belong to. And you, in case you need the reminder.”

You pretend to think for a moment. “Maybe I could use a refresher. Why don’t you show me who owns me?”

Her eyes darken even more as she pulls you back in for a searing kiss that she ends too quickly.

She yanks her thigh from out between yours and grabs your hand, dragging you to the car.

“Oh, I’m going to, baby.”

#agatha harkness x fem!reader #agatha harkness x reader #agatha x reader #agatha x you #agatha harkness x you #kathryn hahn x reader #agatha all along

352 notes · View notes

wizlizbelle3 · 3 days ago

Text

My challenge to induce pure consciousness before Christmas🎄

Hello everyone,

So I know that in my earlier posts I said that I am not really in favor of challenges but I see a lot of people struggling and overcomplicating the void and I've decided to make a challenge that will get you into the void state in less than 3 days if you really stick to it, and if you don't stick to it consistently, you'll still be able to get into the void before December 25th (which is like 26 days away from now).

The challenge is to use SATs to enter the void state and I'll explain how. But first, y'all need to understand what the void is exactly.

SO when you have to eat your breakfast, do you google or search youtube videos on how to eat? Or if you want to fall asleep, do you google how to fall asleep? We actually don't know what causes us to fall asleep if you think about it. So when we set the intention, our subconscious follows through because we've always been doing it and no one told us that sleeping is not real. So the void state is just another state of consciousness that doesn't need to be forced and it cannot be forced. You just set the intention. However, people have been programmed to believe that things like the void are too good to be true (SMFH).

SOOOOO here's the challenge:

STEP ONE is to do ANY kind of yoga, workout, or stretch before bed. You can do breathing sitting up or simply a meditation to calm your mind. Make sure to not use electronics before bed for at least an hour.

STEP TWO is to get into a comfortable position. It doesn't matter which position, just one that you know you can stay in for as long as necessary.

STEP THREE is to choose what you want to do in SATs. To induce the void, you choose to induce the void. You can say it to yourself or just relax and know what you want.

STEP FOUR is to begin to relax your body. You can do PMR where you tense then release each part of your body, then do breathing or anything until you have become completely relaxed.

STEP FIVE is to either visualize waking up with your desired face or whatever thing you want to get from the void and telling someone that you induced the void. Anything that indicates that you woke up in the void. OR you use the lullaby method where you pick one affirmation (I am in the void aware or I have induced pure consciousness). OR you can do both.

STEP SIX is to make sure you go to sleep with this affirmation or visualization in your mind. This is probably the most important part and what makes this method successful.

Please go watch "Neville Goddard Ladder lecture" in order to get how this works. BUT IT D O E S. Stop being so needy and do the challenge. It's literally not hard and there's no "failure". It's just a state.

Oh, and I made a playlist that I'll link down below for you to listen to throughout the day. It's not necessary but it helped me be happy and get rid of the "omg nothing wowks fow meeeeeee :(((" mentality. I will also link a good, trustworthy SATs subliminal that i used YEARS ago (like two years) and then didn't use again because I became obsessed with trying new methods.

If you have any questions, you can message me BUT I am enjoying my life rn and chilling so I won't respond immediately. Plus, everything you need to know is already on @b4ddprincess 's page and also my earlier posts address tons of things. Again, stop being needy.

youtube

#void #void state #manifesting #reality shifting #pure consciousness #void success #void post #loassumption #Youtube

304 notes · View notes

isuggestforcefem · 23 hours ago

Note

started dating a cute twink, who ive known for about three years prior to this. he currently uses he him so thats what im going for for now... i'm a trans woman, having had socially transitioned since 2020 and being on estrogen since april. anyway i didnt have feelings for him until this summer, when i started, like, sensing something. i wasn't sure what it was, but now i'm completely certain that it's the feelings he has for me, his totally being an egg that hasn't cracked yet, some latent undiscovered potential of spirit, or a mixture of the three. we've been getting closer and closer to each other over time, moving into a massive grey area that I decided to turn into a completely certain, yes-we-are-a-thing. I'm bisexual leaning heavily toward women, you see, but i thought i'd make an allowance this time. today we went on a fantastic date, and i gave him what i suspect was his first kiss. the energy is still electric now that he's gone.

not what this is about, though. you see, as i've got closer to this person i've gradually understood that there's something extremely transgender going on with him- at least, as far as i can intuit. Over a year ago, I brought up the days when i was just questioning to another transgender friend, and he just sorta piped up, said "i've thought about it," and completely refused to elaborate. i still remembered that and i thought that our first date would be a nice time to discuss it- that flustered him real good, but he did mention that he perchance probably maybe might be transfem, but he's got school, so...

of course, the thing about girls like her is it's *never* the right time.

but whatever. i laid off, but intermittently i did what i do best and joked about him being transgender, and you know what? he never denied it, or confirmed it. he just stayed in that space between acceptance and denial, blushed and laughing. we're a relationship of comfort, you know? it's *comfortable* being around each other. it's *comfortable* not choosing trans or cis, just letting time pass. but god, i don't know, i want more for her! he's a sweet, adorable person now, but i know there's something inside him that's just so much more than this. i want it to get out. i want her to get out.

but the more i think about it the murkier it gets. he's so into me- do i hold the power here? is it better to wait for him to walk into womanhood, or should i be more active in encouraging him? i know i'm right, but what if i'm not, am i going to cause him dysphoria down the line? am i afraid of being a predator here because of internalized transmisogyny? am i overthinking this, should i just let it happen? for the record, he *does* seem to totally enjoy being a femboy- granted, that could go either way.

i've penned you an entire novel here, i recognize that and if you don't want to read this through or advise me that's just fine. if you'd like, you can leave this message out for your follower base or just save it in your inbox forever. but- i would LOVE your advice, ms forcefem. i do believe you're the one person to ask who would understand my position the best. thank you!

You should gently push her, help her down that path, make sure she feels safe to explore it! Girls like that will invent all sort of excuses to stay in denial, and you have to show her what she could have, the joy!

266 notes · View notes

hwaslayer · 2 days ago

Text

the space between us three (jyh) | one.

⇢series masterlist | series playlist

⇢summary: while juggling the demands of life, yunho continues to do his best to raise his independent 11 yr old daughter, seora. throughout the years, they've built a strong foundation, an unbreakable bond— one that consists of late night talks and food runs, father/daughter dates, and sideline cheerleading at her basketball games. so when you unexpectedly come into their world, things shift. despite the uncertainty and the fear of stepping outside of their comfort zone, yunho and seora eventually learn how to open their hearts and learn how to rebuild a home where three can thrive together.

⇢pairing: single dad!yunho x f. reader

⇢genre: (18+ - minors dni) strangers to lovers, single dad au | fluff, angst, eventual smut

⇢word count: 7k

⇢chapter content/warnings: not much - just a basic intro to yunho x seora, yunho is 31 and seora is 11, cussing, mentions of character death, mentions of a tragic car accident by drunk driving, mentions of casual relationships (not yunho), mentions of distant/unsupportive parents

⇢a/n: it's finally here! i hope you all enjoy this journey and tysm for coming along! i'm not sure what the update schedule will be for this, but i'll try my best to update in between wildfire; this series came to me suddenly so i barely did any prior planning or writing. 😭 anywho, ty again for your support on this! <33

"Seora." Yunho calls her name one last time as he pops in two toaster strudels into the toaster. He lets out a small sigh, pausing when he doesn't hear any movements coming from her room. Just as he finishes getting his coffee together, he turns on his heel to head back down the hallway to check on his 11-year old daughter.

"I'm up." She mumbles, dragging herself across the hallway and into the bathroom. Yunho stands there for a minute, doing a slight head tilt before heading back to the kitchen.

"Well, that was slightly easy today." He finishes packing her lunch [some quickly made spam masubi], making sure she has all her favorite snacks tucked neatly in her lunch box. He nibbles onto some hardboiled eggs he made for himself, plopping Seora's toaster strudels onto a plate. She takes about a good 30 minutes before she's out and dressed in her uniform, hair neatly brushed and pulled back into a low ponytail. "Morning." He hands her the plate after she pours herself some milk. "How'd you sleep?"

"Fine, I guess." She sits and takes a bite before looking at her dad, leaning against the counter. "Just wish it was still the weekend." Yunho chuckles.

"Told you to stop sleeping late. Scrolling through TikTok and all that mess."

"Dad. I beg to differ." She says so matter-of-factly. "I get a lot from TikTok. If anything, I'm up late cause I'm learning."

"Please. You could also learn alot from those books you carry into the school I pay heavily for."

"Yes, okay, but I learn other things. Like how to do cute hairstyles for myself. How to cook one pot dishes. What's important in an emergency kit. How to file taxes. Ou, and let's not forget the cool goodies on TikTok shop—"

"Why would you learn filing taxes on there?" Yunho furrows his brows. "It's not even something you need to worry about now."

"It's helping me prepare for the real world." She cocks a brow up and turns slightly. "What if you get too busy and forget to teach me?"

"Like you're not gonna pick up the phone to call me and have me do it for you when you get older." Yunho crosses his arms and leans back against the counter.

"See, no. I'll learn."

"Jeez, times really have changed."

"You're only 31 but you sure sound like you're turning 80." She looks at him with a small teasing smile even though he's squinting his eyes at her.

"I'll just act like you didn't say that." He playfully scoffs.

"Dad, don't you ever go on Instagram or Twitter? Anything?"

"Not like I used to. My Instagram is probably collecting cobwebs." She chuckles. "I just don't find it useful."

"I mean, you can see what your friends are up to. Like Uncle Hwa or Uncle Mingi. They post alot, no?"

"Your uncles don't even do anything fun. They aren't even fun."

"Uncle Mingi travels a lot!" Yunho shrugs and nods in agreement. "Anyway, there's also good resources on there, actually."

"I would have never thought Twitter or Instagram could be categorized as resources."

"Pushing 85 now." He's playfully rolling his eyes now.

"Hurry and eat so we can get you to school on time." He checks his watch. "You have practice today, right?"

"Mhm."

"Are you riding home with Chan-mi?"

"Yup!"

"Sorry, ace. I'll be home a bit after you, okay?" Seora smiles toothlessly at her father when she hears the beloved nickname slip from his lips. It had been a long time coming with that nickname, but Seora loves every bit of it. She knows it's her dad's way of saying he's proud of her in every way; all the good grades she gets, the games she plays, the hard days in and out of practice.

She is his ace, his everything.

"No big." She cleans up her plate and drinks the rest of her milk before washing her dishes.

"Text me what you want for dinner later." She nods, facing him after setting the dishes on the rack.

"Ready." She throws her backpack strap over her shoulder.

"Alright." He grabs his bag and his thermos before handing Seora her lunch bag. He takes one last look around the kitchen to make sure all is good and unplugged before heading out the door to the car. Seora is patiently waiting at the passenger's door, already scrolling away on her phone.

"Goodmorning you two!" Auntie Love, the next door neighbor, calls out. Yunho and Seora have grown a fond, wholesome relationship with their neighbors— they call themselves Auntie Love and Uncle Po. Despite having that relationship, Yunho feels like he doesn't know much about them besides the fact that their kids are grown and off doing their own thing— barely visiting cause of busy lives. At least, he's never seen them visit while he's around. They're sweet, and they always bring over food and check up on Seora when she's home alone while Yunho is still finishing up at work. "Where's my sweet girl?" Auntie Love comes running out in her pajamas just to give Seora a big bear hug. "Yunho, she grows more and more beautiful every day."

"Yeah she does, and the attitude grows, too!" She laughs just as he hops in the driver's seat, waving them off for the day.

"Dad." She buckles her seatbelt at the same time as he father, giving him the green light to drive off.

"That's me." Seora snorts. "What's up?"

"Have you ever met Auntie Love and Uncle Po's kids?"

"Never." Granted, Yunho and Seora just moved to their current spot about a year and a half ago, starting fresh in a smaller house that would be perfect for the two of them. But, he does find it a little odd that he's never even ran into them once. "I know they exist, I just never see them when I'm around. It's also kinda crazy cause Auntie Love said her daughter works at the same hospital as me, but it's such a huge hospital, I don't think we'd ever cross paths."

"That's pretty crazy if you did and you just didn't know it." Seora looks out the window. "I wonder why they don't visit often. They seem like such cool parents."

"People get busy and have their own lives to end to. Plus, the sad thing about parenting is that we prepare our kids to tough it out in the world without us." Yunho playfully pinches her cheeks, making her laugh a bit.

"I'll always need you." Yunho smiles.

"You say that now, but once you find your footing in the world and someone who will take care of you, I'll be a long distant memory."

"Stop. Don't say that. I'll always need you." She repeats, tugging onto his free arm and hugging onto it like a koala. Yunho laughs at her as she continues to tug on his arm, giving it a few more playful tugs before she's letting go. "Dad."

"Yes?"

"Can you take me and my friends shopping this weekend?"

"Oh, so that's why you were being that way?" He pokes fun at her and she laughs.

"No! It's obviously because I love you."

"I love you, too." He smiles. "What're you guys trying to do?"

"I wanna buy more stuff for my scrapbook. Like stickers and stuff. And they just wanna walk around an shop. Do cute girly things." She shimmies a bit in her seat.

"Don't you have a ton of scrapbooking supplies sitting on your desk?" Yunho flawlessly turns down the street, approaching the lot to her school.

"I'm running through them. Plus, I need more highlighters and pens. And there's a new edition of the sticker books I buy." She pouts and pleads. "Please, please, please!"

"Seora." He laughs. "Yeah, cause you could certainly use more." He jokes. "Sure. Just let me know. But!"

"But?" She looks at him.

"As long as I can drag one of your uncles along."

"Duh." She laughs. "You're the best." She mumbles as she types away on her phone, Yunho pulling into a spot to walk her towards the school entrance. He helps her with her backpack, duffle bag and lunch bag, trailing behind his daughter with his hands in his pockets. He greets a few parents and teachers, pausing in his tracks just as they get to the steps. She turns to look at him, a smile on her face. Yunho looks at her and still can't believe his babygirl is already 11, going on 12 soon. She's tall, just like her father. She's got the same eyes and smile, but she definitely has similarities to Eunha. She's become quite the athlete, head deep in her books.

Time sure flies.

"See you later, ace. Have a good day at school and practice, k? Remember, text me when you get home and what you're craving for dinner." She nods, throwing her arms around her dad before they do their little handshake.

"I will. Have a good day too, gramps." He rolls his eyes again and shakes his head as he watches her walk up the steps and disappear into the main lobby of the school.

"Goodmorning Yunho." One of the moms passing by waves and smiles sweetly at him, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear as she tries to keep her blushing subtle. He gives her a simple nod of acknowledgement with a tiny smile, slipping into his car to head to work.

Yunho can't really remember the time he went on a real date.

He has met a few women, but super casually. He didn't really feel anything special with anyone, and he's someone who loves to connect with people. Otherwise, he finds it to be a waste of time. He's not sure how people [aka Uncle Mingi and Uncle Seonghwa] slept around without getting attached; he doesn't think he could pull it off the same way.

Plus, he comes with a forever plus one. His Seora, his babygirl, his ace. And he will always put her before anything, anyone.

Maybe Yunho was just numb. Losing Eunha was the hardest thing he's ever had to endure, and he still feels it 'till this day, as if that accident was yesterday. Seora had been shy over 4 years old when she was tragically struck by an oncoming drunk driver, leaving her car to flip off the highway. Seora barely got to live her life with her mother and that's what aches the most for Yunho. He knows she's fine, and he knows he's tried his best all these years to help shape her into who she is today. But, he knows there is a part of her that misses her mother terribly, that yearns for a mother's love even though Yunho has done everything he can to fill the shoes for both.

So, he thinks about that when he goes on dates. He could never replace Eunha, but he also knows him and Seora are good with where they're at. No one else needed to come into the mix to disrupt their flow for now. Although, he yearns for love too, though. He is scared, but he is equally sad that the truest, most raw form of love he's ever experienced was stripped away from him so fast— he barely got to indulge in Eunha being there as his wife. He's not sure if he'll ever move past it, even though Seonghwa and Mingi tell him time and time again that he deserves to experience love despite everything that's happened.

That he's still deserving of it, and that he should try to open his heart up to it.

He isn't sure how Seora would be though, and that's the most important thing for him. Because he just wants his daughter to be happy. He will always put her first.

When he drives off to work, he pulls into the staff garage and flashes his badge to the security guard waiting at the booth. He drives down to the 2nd level before he's able to find a spot and reverses into it flawlessly. He shuts off the car and grabs his backpack, heading straight to the stairs to bring him back up to the ground level and entrance of the main hospital.

The main hospital has 8 floors, with the emergency room off to the side and valet at the front for patient pickup. It's connected to an adjacent building, the older hospital— which has 3 floors and the older emergency room at the back end of the building. The pediatrics hospital is right behind the main hospital but there isn't a bridge connecting the two; staff typically have to take a 5-10 minute walk over if they need anything on that end. Along the ways are food trucks and mobile coffee trucks, with cafeterias and smaller cafés and shops situated inside the buildings itself.

The hospital is huge and could literally float and function as its own island if it wanted to.

"Morning, Yunho!" One of the front desk staff members greets him. Yunho sends them a small salute, before smiling and responding back.

"Goodmorning!" Yunho's dressed in jeans and a thick black sweater, the colder weather slowly making its way in at this time of the year. He heads up to the second floor, his office nestled in the corner of the huge office space dedicated to his IT team and part of the administrative team. He greets everyone goodmorning on the way over, setting his things down before he comes out to chat a bit with his team members.

"Yo." He leans against an empty desk while sipping on his coffee.

"Sup boss." Taehyun swings around in his chair, while his other two coworkers, Kyung-soo and Jihoon plop into their chairs. "How's it going?"

"Alright, not too bad." Yunho chuckles. "How about you?"

"All good, can't complain." His main team is made up of 10 people— Taehyun being the team lead, the others branching into specifics like system administrators, helpdesk techs and cybersecurity. His team alone supports a few departments since the hospital is so huge— other IT teams are spread out to cover other remaining wings; plus, the older hospital and the pediatrics corner. From time to time, they'll hop in and help if needed. Without Taehyun's help triaging and prioritizing certain tasks, Yunho wouldn't be able to focus on the high-level aspects of his job. Of course, their team meshes with so many different departments within the hospital— they're all involved deeply in current ongoing and new developments.

"Didn't seem like we got too many tickets last night? Any urgent action items come up in the last hour or so?" Taehyun shakes his head.

"Not really. We've been sorting through and closing out those tickets. Most have been quick fixes." Yunho nods.

"Sounds good. I gotta work on that new clinical project that's opening up on the fifth floor soon. Might loop some of you guys in to help with the Epic implementation and other tweaks we might need to incorporate for patient ordering."

"Aye! They're finally moving forward with it?" Yunho chuckles.

"Yeah, I guess they've slowly been recruiting patients for their program so they've been moving at a quick pace for the space and everything."

"Sick, that'll be a big project."

"Yup, already starting to feel like it. Thanks for handling those tickets. If we can make sure we stay on top of the queue and help get the AV system going for the board meeting happening in the next hour, that would be great." Yunho goes through a few other priorities he needs his team members to focus on, thanking them for all their hardwork before excusing himself to the office and beginning his own project planning and schedule organization.

He's got a few higher-level meetings to hop into, especially to debrief about the new clinical department opening up and its current timeline. He also needs to set some time aside to brainstorm the data migration request he got a few days ago for another department, along with figuring out how to structure this new department's servers, bandwidth and storage.

It doesn't sound like much, but Yunho definitely has his day cut out for him.

And as he expected, he's barely getting a moment to breathe. Especially when Taehyun pulls him into an urgent server issue that has him thinking on his feet for close to 15 minutes until he realizes the best way to move forward without any major data loss. Then, he's making it to the next meeting but he is already exhausted and hungry. He doesn't get the chance to grab lunch until 1:30pm— Yunho rushing over to the cafeteria to grab today's lunch special before they stop offering hot food.

"Today ended up being a lot busier than expected." Yunho mumbles as he slips into a seat, Taehyun and Jihoon following suit in the spaces in front of him.

"Seriously. Thanks for your help with the servers."

"All good." Yunho chuckles. "Sooner or later, we'll find better ways to tackle those issues. I know we're gonna have to work on upgrades soon."

"Agreed. And it's probably about time." Jihoon chimes in. "I know we were kinda brushing it off for a bit but I'm slowly seeing it crumble." Yunho nods.

"Nah, I agree. I'll think about it over the next few days. Let me know if you guys have any ideas." Yunho sips his water. "I'll also need your help for the clinical project a lot sooner than expected. I'll forward any invites so you two can start attending meetings. It'll be good for you to get involved now so you have a better idea of the setting and the trials taking place in this new department."

"Sounds good! Let me know if you need anything else, we'll be happy to help out." Yunho smiles and cocks his head to the side.

"Thanks. How's everything else been with you guys? I've been going through candidates, but I expect us to interview and wrap up the whole thing by next month. We'll get some extra help."

"Thanks, boss. That's good to hear." Taehyun hums. "And hm, I think everyone's completely fine and taking it day by day. No one seems to be unhappy."

"We've got a good team and good people around us so I can't complain either. Days are busy but wouldn't want it any other way." Jihoon takes a spoonful of food into his mouth and shrugs. "Got a good manager." He points at Yunho.

"Well, least I'm doing something right?" Taehyun laughs and shakes his head.

"Have a little faith, will you?" Taehyun smiles. "The team doesn't go anywhere without you."

"I think it's the other way around for sure."

"Hey." Seonghwa pops in and sits next to Yunho. Taehyun and Jihoon nod at Seonghwa and send their usual greetings, Yunho knitting his brows at how flustered he looks.

"You okay? Should I even ask?" Seonghwa shakes his head.

"Just tired." Seonghwa takes a bite of the sandwich he brought over. "This health fair we've been planning is driving me crazy. Vendors have been too flakey and our deadline to finalize everything is next week. Plus, I gotta get those interviews and articles done for the new department by next week, too." Seonghwa is one of the marketing and communications managers for the hospital. He had been working here for a bit longer than Yunho, and actually introduced him to the hiring manager and IT director when they were in dire need of building a new team to support the growth of the new main hospital. They had both been working there for a couple of years, Seonghwa organically growing from the bottom up since he had started. Yunho respects him alot [besides the fact that he's one of his bestfriends], and admires his work ethic. Seonghwa is probably one of the constants in his life that helps push him to where he needs to be and serves as a reminder that he needs to keep going regardless of what life brings to the table.

"I bet you're hella roped into the fine details for that." Taehyun says.

"Yeah, and it doesn't help that the core faculty members are all crazy busy. They're all psychiatrists and neurosurgeons. I can barely get them to respond about meeting with me to talk about it." Seonghwa sighs. "Anyway, that's all. I just needed to let that out, so thanks." They all chuckle.

"Yeah." Yunho looks at him. "Going to that huge introductory meeting later this week then?"

"Mhm."

"By the way, how's you and Seora?" Taehyun asks.

"My ace!" Seonghwa adds.

"We're as good as we can be." Yunho smiles, eyes looking down at the polaroid on the back of his phone that Seora slipped in. It's a picture of them two at the amusement park, wearing cute headbands per her request.

"That's good. School and basketball still treating her okay?" Yunho nods. "Cool. I'm glad you're doing okay. I just wasn't sure when I could ask since you've been so busy."

"You can always pop into my office." Yunho laughs. "But, thank you. I appreciate you guys for asking and for all your help."

"Does she have a game soon?" Seonghwa cuts in to ask.

"Think so. Pretty sure."

"Let me know. I'll try and make it." Seonghwa's eyes are traveling across the room, situated on a person as they grab their lunch and sit at a table on the opposite end of the room.

"How's that going?" Yunho follows his gaze and lets out a small laugh. Jihoon and Taehyun can't help themselves either, subtly looking over their shoulder to see what has gotten Seonghwa all quiet. It's Yoori, one of the Directors of Space and Planning, and the same girl he had been seeing recently.

"I dunno. It's alright I guess."

"Do you think you'll end up in something serious with her?"

"No." Seonghwa chuckles it off, but internally, he's torn between keeping Yoori as his past-time or his full-time.

"She seems to like you a lot already." Yunho continues to look at Yoori as she talks to her coworkers. She's about 4 years older than them. Was in a long term relationship that ended a few months ago, according to Seonghwa. He thought it was a good opportunity to get to know her and have some fun, assuming she wouldn't be ready for a relationship. He might've been wrong because yeah, she does like him a lot already. She's been hinting at it a lot. It's not that Seonghwa can't see them being something serious— he's just not sure if he's ready to jump into that or take that road right now.

He likes his independence and he likes having fun, he's not gonna lie about it.

"Yeah, but we already talked about where we were at and she agreed on it, so."

"Uh huh.." Yunho responds. "You know, it's okay to want something serious." He chuckles. But, before Seonghwa can respond, he nods towards the aisle ahead.

"Hm." Seonghwa hums. "Speaking of something serious to get into."

"Hey Yunho!" One of the nurses, Ara, passes by with her friends, smiling at him. "Seonghwa, Taehyun, Jihoon." She gives them nods of acknowledgements.

"Sup!" They all say in their own way.

"Hey Ara." He looks up at her.

"Haven't seen you around for awhile?"

"Just been running around is all."

"Locked up in his office actually—" Taehyun says, causing Yunho to press on his foot under the table. "Ouch— yeah, we've all been busy."

"I see." She giggles. "How's Seora?"

"Good!"

"Give her a big hug for me." Ara smiles. "We should definitely grab some dinner one day and hang out. Bring Seora, too!"

"For sure! Sounds fun."

"See you around then, maybe?" She subtly bites onto her bottom lip as her friends giggle away and hurry along to a table.

"Yeah, I'll see you." She waves for one last goodbye before reuniting with her friends. Seonghwa lets out a small snort, while Taehyun and Jihoon quietly poke away at their food with a smirk growing on their lips.

"Um, so." Jihoon laughs when he's the first to break the silence. "She's definitely interested."

"And Yunho definitely should take the opportunity." Seonghwa responds right away, making Yunho shake his head.

"Nah."

"Why not? She's literally opening the door in front of you. Doesn't hurt to try."

"Could be fun. Doesn't have to be serious." Jihoon adds. "She's cute."

"You should see where it takes you. No harm in letting it go if it doesn't pan out as expected." Taehyun also adds his two cents.

"Was not expecting to get lectured by you three during lunch." They laugh.

"Seriously." Seonghwa looks at him. "It's been awhile since you've went on a date. Just see where it goes." Yunho stays silent as he pokes at his food, thinking about the whole thing. It couldn't hurt just to see where it'd take him— and quite frankly, he could use someone new to talk to and hang out with. It doesn't necessarily mean it needs to work out into anything. "I will literally sit at home with Seora and keep her occupied when you take Ara out." Yunho sighs and finally meets his gaze.

"Really now? I'm holding you to it."

"Yes! Not like I haven't before. Could use time to hangout with my ace and bring back the favorite uncle title." Yunho chuckles.

"Yeah, gotta say. Mingi has been taking over." Yunho says just to rile him up even though there's no such thing for Seora; she loves her uncles equally.

"Well, fuck Mingi." Taehyun and Jihoon laugh. "Ask her later. Or tomorrow. Promise me. It doesn't have to turn into anything but at least get out of the house and hang out with a fresh face." Seonghwa turns back to his food. "But for your sake, I hope it does." He mumbles, causing Yunho to nudge him.

"Fine, but no promises on a specific outcome."

"My job here is done." Seonghwa sips on his soda and tosses a crumpled napkin into the sandwich wrapper.

"Shoulda known."

"I was just gonna catch up with you guys, not my fault she happened to walk by at the same time." Seonghwa chuckles and stands. "Gotta get back to my desk and start pressing people for answers. See you guys around." He stands and grabs his trash, making his way to the trash can before walking off out of the cafeteria.

"He's right." Taehyun shrugs. "Gotta try and see where it goes. You deserve to take a break and have some fun. You always work so damn hard."

"And we all know how much Seora means to you and comes first, but you gotta think about yourself, too." Yunho chuckles as he takes his last forkful and sits back in his seat.

"Thanks guys."

"Just looking out for you." Jihoon stretches. "Anyway, time to head back?"

"Yup. I gotta get ready for my next meeting." They all stand and slowly make their way out of the cafeteria, throwing their trash into the appropriate bins.

Yunho's day ends a little after 5:45pm, which is when rush hour hits. He's heading downtown to pick up the food Seora requested, making sure to place the order ahead of time so he can just pick it up and go. As expected, he hits traffic and it takes him an extra 15 minutes to get deep into downtown. It's crazy everywhere, and all Yunho can do is look forward to getting home.

seora: daddy-o i am home

seora: honey-soy glazed fried chicken and kimchi fried rice from chick'n coop pls!

seora: pls pls pls <3333 love youuu

Luckily, he's able to snag a spot in front of the restaurant. It's a 15 minute spot, so he quickly runs in and grabs the food, thanking the friendly staff before running out and getting back into the car. He's not entirely excited about the trek home in all this chaos, but he finds it worth it when he reminds himself of how happy Seora will be when he gets home with her current craving.

So, his usual 30 min drive home ends up being 45 from inner downtown with all the traffic. He parks his car out front before grabbing his things and pulling on his car handle to make sure the doors are locked. When Yunho unlocks the front door, the house is quiet but it doesn't worry him one bit because he knows exactly where Seora is. He kicks off his shoes, setting the bag of food down on the counter before placing his bag down on a dining table chair. He turns down the hallway towards Seora's room, her door slightly ajar. He gives it a few knocks before he's poking his head in, finding her deep in her books at her desk— those huge Bose headphones she asked for last Christmas sitting on her head while she works on her homework.

"Ace." She surprisingly turns her head towards the door, but it's probably because she felt her father's looming figure standing there. She smiles and shoves off her headphones, playfully jumping on her dad while he wraps his arms around her and hugs her tightly.

"You're home!" Yunho laughs as she gently hops off.

"How was school and practice?" She shrugs, walking back to her desk.

"Um, it was okay? The usual."

"Got lots of homework?" She shakes her head.

"Not really. I'm about to finish up!"

"Why don't you wrap it up so we can have dinner and watch our show together?" She chuckles.

"Okay. I'll be out in a sec." Yunho nods, shutting her door before heading out to wash up and get comfy for the evening. He heads to his room and takes a piping hot shower before completing his routine and slipping into a shirt and some flannel pajamas. He heads into the kitchen to unpack dinner, setting out the plates and utensils for him and Seora. He's not usually a stickler about these things— there are days when the two of them sit at the table and talk about everything and anything, then there's days where they'll plop onto the living room floor to eat at the coffee table and watch a show or movie. Any moment spent with Seora is a cherished moment for Yunho, and he'll never take any of it for granted;

Not when she's growing up so damn fast.

Yunho remembers when Seora was born— him and Eunha were shy over 20 years old. Young, dumb and naive; so incredibly unsure of how they'd move forward with having a child so young, how they'd make it without the support they hoped to have. Both their parents didn't think they were ready and tried to force other agendas on them, ones that didn't include being in Seora's life and Eunha was almost convinced it was the better route solely because of all the noise and talk in her ear. But, Yunho didn't want any of it at all. He wanted to be in Seora's life, he wanted to raise her, he wanted to go through life's ups and downs with her— even if that meant their parents wouldn't agree and would cut off ties.

All that mattered was Seora and Eunha.

So, they had her. Yunho and Eunha had the hardest, most challenging time trying to work to get by, all while finishing school over the years. They packed up and moved to different in-laws, renting rooms in random homes until they could afford a tiny studio to build in for awhile. They pushed through no matter how rough it got because they were both on the same page and understood the end goal: providing for Seora and being able to give her a comfortable life. Their parents weren't the happiest; hence, the disconnect between Seora and both her grandparents. When Eunha passed, her parents cut off ties completely because they claimed it was too painful to. Yunho's parents on the other hand, will see their granddaughter once in a blue moon over a quick meal. Otherwise, they send over birthday and holiday cards with extra cash wishing her the best. Yunho doesn't really have a great relationship with them anyway, and when he does manage to have dinner with them, he tries to keep it civil.

Keyword: tries.

Things changed when Seora hit 7 years old and was smart enough to pick up on their cues. She realized her grandparents didn't really wanna be a part of her life like that and that was hurtful for Yunho to see. She'd question why they weren't there to see her exceed during the sports competitions in summer camp, she'd question why they wouldn't go to her little school dance recitals. She'd question why they weren't there when she'd win Student of the Month or when they'd have fall and spring family festivals.

She questioned why they weren't there and Yunho didn't have an answer for her.

But, since they are his parents, he tries to keep that window open out of respect. In the end, he knows it would truly just be them two against the world, and that was completely fine. Yunho made it this far throughout all the trials and tribulations— he's sure he can handle anything else that comes their way.

"Yay!" Seora squeals when she comes out into the living room and plops next to her dad on the floor. "Thank you." She smiles at him and he chuckles.

"You're welcome. Good choice for dinner." She begins to plop some fried rice onto her plate, followed by pieces of the honey-soy glazed chicken wings.

"Been craving it for so long."

"You could've just asked for it." Yunho switches it to their favorite zombie apocalypse show.

"I know, but I know you have long days at work so I feel bad for asking you to stop by."

"I appreciate that." Yunho laughs. "But, I want you to know that I don't mind, okay? Just let me know and I'll make the stop."

"You really are the best." She mutters just as she takes a bite into her chicken.

"You know what we haven't done in awhile?"

"Hm?" Her eyes widen at the scene, and she lets out a small 'oh my god, run!' in between.

"We haven't gone out for our usual father/daughter dates."

"You're right." She takes a spoonful of rice into her mouth. "Can we go next weekend? I think I have a game that Saturday, but in the morning."

"Yeah, what do you wanna do?" She grabs the remote to pause the show.

"Hold on, I need to think about this." She looks up in thought. "I wanna go to the movies to catch Wicked. But, I wanna go to the theater that has the cute suites with the couches inside."

"Okay. But, let me get this straight." Yunho laughs and takes a sip of his beer. "You wanna do that with me and not your friends?"

"They're surprisingly not all that into it. We might later on, but I definitely wanna watch it with you cause I know you'll enjoy it either way." Yunho nods.

"What else? More shopping? More eating out?"

"They opened up that new dog café downtown."

"Let's go then."

"Bbq after it all?"

"Sounds like a good date to me."

"Dad, for the next-next one, we should drive somewhere or do something outdoorsy or active. Like those indoor rock climbing gyms."

"Woah." He laughs loudly. "Yeah, actually. We should. I'll start planning something for a weekend you don't have any games."

"Woohoo! Sick. Now I can beat you at rock climbing and rub it in your face." She claps and gently headbutts her dad's arm before resuming the show.

"Seora." Yunho looks over at her with a fond smile.

"Uh huh? Holy crap—" She responds to the show before quickly glancing over at him, then back to the TV. "Yeah, dad?"

"Love you." He makes it a point to always remind her because he doesn't want her to feel like she's lacking in love anywhere, despite no longer having her mother or her grandparents around. He is hoping he's enough to fill their shoes. "You know that, right?" He gently tickles her and she squeals.

"Yes! Oh my god, don't do that!" He laughs. "I love you too." Yunho sits back against the couch and fully immerses himself in dinner and the show— responding just as animatedly as Seora. They get through about four 50-min episodes, a little bit into the fifth before Seora is beginning to yawn like crazy, almost falling asleep on the opposite end of the couch.

"Ace." Yunho gently shakes her by the shoulder after pausing the show and slowly cleaning up the coffee table.

"I'm definitely not falling asleep." He snorts.

"You sure are. We'll pick this up again tomorrow. You had a long day." She sits up and yawns, stretching before she rubs at her eyes.

"Practice killed me today. Coach had us running suicides up and down the court for warm up."

"That's a good way to start practice." She nods and sleepily begins her walk off to the bathroom to brush her teeth and do her nightly routine.

"I'm off!"

"Goodnight, sleep well. Don't stay up on your phone for too long."

"I won't, I won't. Actually—" She lazily pauses and walks back to give Yunho a hug. "Night dad." He playfully squeezes her before planting a chaste kiss to the top of her head and ruffling her hair.

"Night." He watches her finally walk off to the bathroom before turning his attention to the dishes in the sink. He takes his time washing them thoroughly before wiping down the kitchen counters, the dining table and living room coffee table. He slips the leftovers into Seora's tupperware for lunch tomorrow, prepping snacks for himself and Seora to take as well.

He'll probably head to the cafeteria and buy himself something to eat.

Once he's satisfied with his cleaning, he shuts off the lights and double checks the doors before heading into his room on the opposite side of Seora's. He lets out a sigh, exhaustion fully hitting him at this time. He gets himself ready for bed, brushing his teeth and doing his final round of skincare before plopping onto his bed and turning on his own TV. He lowers the volume slightly, the TV now just giving off soft background noise to fill the void. Before he could really settle in, his phone rings— a call coming in from his other bestfriend.

"What?" Mingi scoffs hearing Yunho's greeting.

"You're such a dick, you know that?" Yunho laughs as Mingi continues to whine. "I called to check on you and that's all I get?"

"Jesus, relax. What's wrong?"

"I'm just saying! You didn't even text me back."

"Sorry, I got caught up. Work was busy today, then I stopped by to grab some food Seora's been craving. We were watching our show all night and just finished up not too long ago." Yunho briefly puts him on speaker phone to check Mingi's text.

mingi: wanna do something this weekend?

"I just asked if you wanted to do something this weekend." Yunho responds anyway, just to give him what he wants.

yunho: no

"Well, okay. It doesn't even matter anymore, why are you responding now?!" Mingi's voice turns up a pitch.

"You wanted me to text you back." Yunho laughs. "No can do anyway. I told Seora I'd take her and the girls shopping. Unless.. you wanna tag along?"

"How sweet. You want me to keep you company?"

"We can go on our own date while they shop." Mingi chuckles.

"Yeah, sure."

"What did you have in mind originally?"

"Just walking around the city or grabbing dinner. Nothing too fancy."

"What's Hwa doing? Saw him earlier but didn't really get a chance to ask."

"Hanging out with that girl he's been talking to for a two weeks and three days. What's her name? Yoori?"

"Mhm. You're oddly specific." Yunho snorts.

"I don't think it'll last, if I'm being honest." Mingi laughs.

"He's having fun."

"As with the others. Anyway. When's ace's next game?"

"The following Saturday. I gotta check the exact time, but it's an early one. Was planning to take her out afterwards."

"No invite to that?"

"No, dude. My time with my daughter." He sighs.

"I want one."

"Then stop fucking around and settle down." Yunho chuckles. "Also not just something you can want like a toy, Mingi. You know it's way more than that."

"No, I know. You and Eunha did well with Seora, seriously. You're like her bestfriend."

"That's my girl." Mingi nods to himself because he does eventually wanna settle down and have a family, but he's mainly proud of the way Yunho has gracefully tackled life despite all the ups and downs. He wasn't afraid to ask for help when he really needed it, leaning on him and Seonghwa when times were incredibly trying. Taking turns babysitting and driving the girl to and from places, helping buy groceries or cook for the two. Sometimes, Seonghwa or Mingi would offer to hang out with her for a day or so just so Yunho could get some time to himself. For the most part though, Yunho and Eunha did their best. Yunho did his best to pick himself up and carry on for the both of them after Eunha passed. He's not sure how he managed, but he did. He commends Yunho cause he isn't sure how he'd do it if he was in his place.

He hopes his bestfriend can be genuinely happy one day. Yunho says he is but Mingi knows he isn't. There's always gonna be that empty space and that void that he'll look past, and he's worried it'll be too much to bear when times get tough again. Yunho feels like he has everything being by Seora's side and Mingi doesn't doubt that at all.

Still, it must get lonely at times.

"Anyway, I'll let you be. Just wanted to check in. Tell ace I said hi and give her a big hug for me. Send me the details of her game when you can and what time you need me to be ready this weekend."

"Yeah, I will."

"Alright, peaaace." Yunho ends the call and sticks his phone onto the charger. On his nightstand is a photo of him, Eunha and Seora when Seora just turned three— they took her up to the snow so she could play around and enjoy herself. He picks up the photo and smiles as he stares at Eunha's face, truly missing her presence until this day.

That's probably the one other thing that stops him when he thinks about seriously dating again and seeing people. He knows he shouldn't compare but he can't help himself when Eunha was ripped away from his life so suddenly; all he knows is Eunha. They were always on the same page. They weren't perfect, and they sure as hell had their ups and downs. But, they both had the end goal of making it together and being the best parents Seora could have. There was that mutual understanding, that same determination and grit to push through regardless of how tough it got.

He doesn't think he could find a partner in crime like that ever again. Maybe, he just isn't destined to.

And for now, that's okay.

It's okay because he has Seora, and she is the biggest reminder, the biggest vessel of love that he needs.

For now, he thinks he's okay.

⇢taglist: @asjkdk @interweab @woojirang @svintsandghosts @cheolliehugs @persphonesorchid @mxnsxngie @jycas @cowboydk @nopension @curse-of-art @thechaotictheoryy @likexaxdaydream @dalsuwaha @enha-stars @yasuraokaa @professormingisglasses @yunyunrin @pommelex @astral-trashcan @laura1399 @domfikeluva @tournesol155 @hwaskookies

230 notes · View notes

lives-between-lines · 2 days ago

Text

We gave our time to something undefined - poly!marauders x slytherin reader

─

Summary: Everyone is back from summer break and the rumor mill is buzzing about a certain Slytherin, can our favorite Marauders provide a bit of comfort during trying times?

Notes: I’m so sorry about how long this took! I honestly wasn’t sure where to go next with their story, so it took me a little fiddling but I’m happy with the direction I landed on and I hope you are too.

Tags: Angst, fluff, traumatized Slytherins, pureblood elitism, slightly mean!reader

Words: ~8.3k

p.1 p.2

─

I hated summer. It was too hot and there was too much down time stuck with my parents. Maybe if they let me actually visit my friends more, or leave the house for more than an hour at a time I could enjoy it. Maybe if I could have a hobby that was just for leisure and not something else that I had to dedicate countless hours to being perfect at I could have a bit of fun. Instead my summers were occupied with studying to get ahead for the next year, going to stuffy formal events where I recounted how well I did on each of my OWLs, and listening to my parents drone on about all the accomplishments of their friends’ kids.

One special cloud loomed over me as I stepped away from my parents at the train platform and toward a few months of freedom, but I shook it out of my head and focused on getting to my friends as quickly as possible.

Having taken one last glance back at my parents, I wasn’t watching where I was going and walked straight into the stiff, muscled back of one James Potter. He turned around and I'd be damned if he didn’t smile at me like we were great friends. My brows furrowed as I scowled at him.

“Hey! I haven’t seen you since─”

“Quite a while, I’m sure. If you’ll excuse me,” I sharply interrupted him. Then I shouldered past him before he could say anything else. I knew what he was going to say, and I knew that I did not care for Potter loudly announcing to the entire platform about our encounter over the summer. Even the small interaction just now brought more attention to me than I particularly wanted.

Andromeda stood just outside one of the train doors and we made eye contact. As I neared her, she glanced back to where I presumed James still stood. “What’s his deal? He looks a bit like a kicked puppy.”

I frowned at her, but forced myself not to look back. “How should I know? Let’s get to our seats, my feet are killing me.”

One of Andromeda’s eyebrows ticked up at me in suspicion, but she led the way to our usual compartment.

─

I sat amongst my friends, quietly observing as they recounted their adventures, or similar lack thereof. A part of me felt like a snake had coiled itself around my neck, a heavy weight that wouldn’t let up.

“Are you feeling quite right?” Narcissa asked me about halfway through the trip. I looked up at her, startled. Suddenly all of the girls in the compartment were staring at me. I tried to take a breath and couldn’t. I opened my mouth to respond and words failed me.

“Has something happened?” Andromeda asked, her hand reaching out for mine. I jerked away just as a knock sounded at our door. Everyone’s attention was quickly redirected, except for Andromeda who gave me a weary look before turning to see who had interrupted whatever had been about to happen.

My heart dropped to my feet when I looked up to see Evan Rosier smirking at me. I willed him not to say anything that would inform my friends of the deal our parents had made this summer. It was as if he could read my thoughts at that moment, and knew exactly what to do to rile me up.

“I believe the snack trolley is making its rounds and I do feel obliged to offer my inamorata whatever her heart desires,” he says with a self assured chuckle.

The girls look rightly confused before glancing to me and seeing the way I glowered at Evan.

Andromeda lets out a disbelieving laugh which causes Evan to frown slightly. “What on earth do you think you’re going on about?”

“Our betrothal of course.” Evan holds out his hand to me. I glare at it until he drops it back to his side. “Oh, don’t be like that, my dearest. Our parents have made the deal and set the date for the second we graduate.” A series of gasps sound around me.

Arranged marriages weren’t abnormal in our society, they just weren’t often arranged with people as young as Evan and I still were. To plan to be wed as soon as you graduated was unheard of.

I shoot daggers at Evan for taking yet one more thing out of my hands. I decided in that moment that I hated him. I absolutely hated him and if I truly were to marry him I would make our marriage a living hell for him just as it would be for me.

“Well. I suppose I’ll leave you all to your gossiping and wedding planning then.” He gave me one last smirk before finally excusing himself. I wanted to scream at him and rip his hair out. I wanted to hex him clear off the train. I wanted to curl up on the floor beneath my seat and hide from the world as I cried out everything I had been carrying with me.

Instead I sat frozen in place as everyone else simply stared at me.

“Please tell me that’s not true. You can’t truly be engaged to Rosier. Why on earth would your parents ever arrange such a thing?” Narcissa asked.

When I swallow it feels like gravel tearing down my throat. “It appears that our parents have decided we would make an advantageous pairing.” It’s a piss poor answer, but it’s the best I can offer.

“Well I suppose you should be grateful it’s Evan and not his widowed grandfather,” Phoebe Parkinson giggles. The others are quick to agree and start highlighting all of Evan’s so-called dreamy qualities that will make him a great husband.

As I sit there I can’t help feeling upset that they aren’t mad on my behalf.

─

Two weeks into the school year and the entire school has been murmuring about what I must have done wrong for my parents to plan to get rid of me so quickly. Of course no one wants to ask me anything directly, and Evan has been feeding the rumor mill every chance he got despite my efforts to limit my interactions with him. My friends act like nothing has happened, having gathered quickly the subject was not open for discussion.

Walking into the Great Hall for breakfast every morning I catch myself looking for something, though I can’t seem to figure out what.

In the hallways Evan tries to walk me to class and carry my books or hold my hand. I see girls giggling that he’s such a sweet boyfriend and I want to scream at them he’s not my boyfriend.

In classes he enchants notes to fly to my desk which only serve to get me in trouble with the professors.

At meals he makes a show of placing food on a plate to give me before making one for himself.

One time in the common room he tried to massage my shoulders.

Every bloody chance he gets, he parades around like the perfect boyfriend, making me look like a heartless villain every time I shoot him down.

─

A little over a month into the school year and people have finally started to move on, but I still feel the weight of their looks when I’m forced to sit next to Evan in class. He’s nothing if not persistent, never giving up his ostentatious displays of “affection.”

It’s a Thursday evening after classes and I managed to shake Evan when I disappeared into the library. I have a stack of books up to my shoulders as I move through the shelves back to the table I had secured. I think I see a ruffle of golden brown hair turning one corner as I turn the other, but I brush it off. I hadn’t seen anyone worth studying with in the library yet this year.

I make another sharp turn and stop dead in my tracks. I’m frozen in shock and I don’t know why because I don’t care. It doesn’t hurt my feelings, or make me mad, or even feel like an inconvenience at all.

Rosie Connelly jumps away from Evan Rosier, who in turn pulls his hand out from under her shirt. When he turns to face me he looks perturbed until he realizes it’s me. He’s quick to smooth a pacifying smile over his face, likely ready to say something truly dense.

I stare back at him, blankly, waiting for whatever his idea of a good excuse is.

“Well we’re not married yet,” he finally says with a sort of self-pleased laugh. And that truly does me in. I swing so violently from pissed off to heartbroken that this is what my parents want for me and back in a matter of seconds. Evan seems about ready to say something else despotic when his face suddenly falls. “Oh, shit,” he mumbles, looking past me.

I turn to see what has been able to elicit a more reasonable reaction from him at having gotten caught making out with someone he isn’t currently betrothed to. Of course it’s none other than Phoebe Parkinson. A rather nice, well-mannered girl in our year who only happens to be the world’s nastiest gossip.

I let out a dejected sigh. There’s no threat in the world that could keep her mouth shut for more than five minutes.

Without a word I storm past her, leaving behind a situation that is only going to exponentially complicate the future my parents plan for me.

I manage to navigate back to my table, set my books down without toppling any of them, and take my seat. It’s only when I hear someone clear their throat that I look up and come out of my numb daze.

Remus Lupin’s golden brown eyes meet mine and I nearly miss the way he subtly licks his bottom lip. He opens his mouth to say something, then pauses as he analyzes my face. His face drops at whatever he thinks he sees, seeming to be suddenly unsure of himself.

If he isn’t going to say anything, I will. “What do you want?”

He cringes. Okay, maybe it came across a bit harsher than I meant.

I take a steadying breath. “Forgive me, how can I help you?”

“Dove, you look like shit,” he says bluntly. I gape at him.

“Well excuse me, it’s not everyday the bastard my parents are forcing me to marry is caught feeling up some Hufflepuff slut by the world’s nastiest gossip,” I snap at him.

The shock on his face satisfies an angry part of me. A part of me that just wants to lash out at everyone for how bullshit the whole thing is.

Another part of me, the part that cares about Remus, the part that remembers he called me his friend, feels a bit kicked.

I suddenly struggle to meet his eyes anymore. Instead I choose to stare down at my hands. It feels a bit cowardly to tear into him then turn in on myself.

I see his hand move in my view, coming close to but not quite touching my hands.

“What do you say we get out of here? Get some fresh air?” He offers quietly.

“Er─ yeah that sounds nice,” I choke out. Remus hesitates for only a second before loosely wrapping his hand around my wrist. It’s merely a guiding touch, but I could cave at how gentle it is.

I’m vaguely aware that Remus is guiding me toward one of the courtyards. My thoughts spiral as I wonder what my parents will have to say about the latest development between me and Evan. Would they break things off with his parents? Would they blame me for not playing his blushing bride to be? Would they continue to punish me and make me uphold the arrangement? What would people say about me if I still had to marry him? What would people say if things ended? What would my parents say if people began to pity me because of this?

“Would you like a bit of chocolate, dove?” Remus interrupts my racing thoughts as he guides me to sit on a bench next to him.

I look over to him. My friend.

“It may not solve all your problems but it can certainly make them feel less daunting,” he explains.

“I think I might be sick, actually,” I say weakly.

He frowns at me. “Maybe not, then.”

We sit in awkward silence for a few moments.

“So it’s true? What people were saying about your parents making an arranged marriage with Rosier’s parents?” He finally asks.

“Yeah…”

“Did you even like him?”

“No.”

“Why would your parents make you marry him?” He sounds frustrated on my behalf.

“We make an advantageous pairing,” I murmur the same response I’ve given anyone else who has ever asked.

“The bloody hell does that bullshit mean?” He scoffs.

“It means I only got an acceptable on my divination OWL,” I say so softly he may not even hear. The way his brow furrows tells me he heard and is still miffed. “I’m a failure and an embarrassment to my family. The only success I can find in my future is as a house-wife, serving an actually great wizard.” My words are void of emotion, merely an echo of the vitriol that was spewed at me by my parents.

Remus looks actually hurt by what I’ve said. I give him a smile I know is nowhere near convincing.

“Dove, please don’t tell me you actually believe what you’ve just said,” he says, cautiously.

“What does it matter if I believe it or not? What choice have I ever had? I must do proud by my family. I had one chance to prove myself and I wasted it. I can’t embarrass them like that again, but now Rosier’s gone and soiled everything.” I feel absolutely hopeless.

“A passing grade on a tremendously difficult test is not an embarrassment. Your family is bloody insane if they truly believe that.” Remus sounds exasperated with me and I hate to think I’ve let down someone else.

“You lied, Remus,” I whisper.

“You have infinitely more than just one chance to prove yourself, you have a million every day,” he continues, ignoring what I’ve said.

“You lied,” I murmur again.

“Your family should be embarrassed for saying such backwards things about your future success,” he grumbles.

“Remus…”

“And if they truly think Evan bloody Rosier is meant to be a greater wizard than you? Well. They are─”

“You lied!” I nearly shout at him.

Remus looks offended at my outburst. “I’m quite certain I’ve done no such thing, not to you anyhow, but please do enlighten me.”

“You said it would be okay if I wasn’t perfect. You said things would turn out okay.”

He seems at a loss for words.

“It’s not okay, Remus. Things are very much not okay,” I get choked up as tears well in my eyes.

“Oh, dove,” he sighs. Before I know it he’s pulled me into a hug. The dam inside me breaks and I begin to sob into his shoulder. He holds me closer.

Eventually I begin to calm down, at least enough that Remus pulls away and begins to wipe my tears.

“Darling, I’m terribly sorry that things are looking dreary, but I don’t believe for one minute that this is truly to be your destiny.” He pauses. “In fact I know that things will turn around for you because you are strong and capable and a very, very powerful witch.”

I look up at him, feeling forlorn. “I don’t feel strong and capable and very, very powerful, though. I feel… defeated.”

Remus pulls me into another crushing hug. There is one thing that I am becoming very aware of and that is how powerful of a hugger Remus is. He smells like cinnamon and firewood and with how firmly he holds me I feel as though I can relax and I won’t completely fall apart. He rubs circles between my shoulder blades and I nearly melt into him.

“You are not defeated,” he whispers to me in a serious voice. “I simply will not allow it.”

I pull away to look into his honey brown eyes. They hold so much warmth in them.

“You take your time, build yourself back up. But don’t you for one minute give in and accept your parents words as the truth. You are too wonderful to succumb to their hate.” I try to stop the tears that spring back into my eyes. “James and Sirius and I will help you, you know. With anything.” I give him a weak smile and start to politely brush it off. “No, I’m serious. Anything you need, dove, we’re here for you.”

“Thank you,” I mumble.

The dinner bell starts to chime. I clear my throat and start to gather my things.

“I suppose I should probably─”

“If you’d like to, we could─”

Remus and I speak at the same time. We pause and a grin wiggles onto my face.

“I─”

“Sorry─”

We do it again and I can’t stop from laughing at us.

Remus’s eyes shine with mirth as he mimics zipping his lips shut.

“No, you go ahead,” I urge.

“Well I was just going to offer if you’d like me to grab James and Sirius and we could have dinner together, maybe out here even.” He seems uncharacteristically shy as he asks. I consider what it might mean to skip the Great Hall and all the rumors it will be turning tonight. It’s very tempting, but I’ve never been one to back down from some hearsay spread by bored teenagers. And I certainly don’t want anyone to think I’m hurt over Evan’s actions and hiding from them.

“I really appreciate the offer, and it is very tempting, but I should probably face the music.”

He seems dejected for only a second before masking it. “Right, I understand.”

“My friends likely have plenty to say about matters and avoiding them doesn’t usually go the way I’d like,” I further explain.

“Of course. I can certainly relate to that.” He gives me a knowing smile.

He starts to reach for his own bag. “But perhaps─” I stop myself, uncertain of what I even want to say.

Remus watches me expectantly. When I don’t say anything further he prompts me. “Perhaps…?”

“Perhaps we could─ you, me, Sirius, and James that is─ well… We could meet out at the lake after dinner?” Suddenly I’m the one who’s gone shy.

An almost smug smirk seems to settle onto Remus’s face. I fear for a second he’s going to make fun of me.

“That sounds great, dove. I’m sure they’d love to.” The smile he gives me is genuine.

“Great,” I say, trying to keep my voice even. I don’t know why I’m suddenly nervous. “I’ll see you out there after dinner, then.”

Remus nods in confirmation. “I can’t wait.”

We stand to part, me to go clean up before going to dinner and him likely to go find his friends.

“Oh, err─ just one request if you will?” I ask before he can walk away.

“Sure thing.”

“Maybe don’t tell a bunch of people?” He looks confused at my request. “I’m sorry I know it’s a bit strange, but I don’t want anyone to get the wrong idea considering what Rosier’s been doing.”

“Ah, I see. I’ll make sure to stay discreet and let the boys know to do the same.”

“Thank you, Remus.” We share an almost conspiratorial smile before finally departing.

─

Dinner seems to take forever as my friends pointedly avoid bringing up what the whole school is already talking about. Evan sits further down the table than he usually does. I think him a bit cowardly for not trying to talk to me about it, but I also appreciate that I don’t have to deal with him just yet.

My friends start toward the Slytherin common room after dinner, as is our standard routine.

I catch Andromeda and Narcissa’s attention. “I’m actually going to go back to the library to study a bit more before bed today.”

They share a confused look. “Oh, okay. Would you like us to join you?” Narcissa asks.

“No, that’s okay. I think I just need some space tonight. Might try to draft a letter to my parents,” I explain. I tug at the sleeve of my robe.

“Right, of course. It’s good to keep up with them,” Andromeda says, treading lightly around the idea of me telling my parents what happened today.

“You know where to find us if you need anything,” Narcissa offers.

“Thank you, I’ll be fine,” I promise before departing.

I make my way out to the lake without running into anyone I fear will be keeping track of my whereabouts.

I don’t see the boys anywhere yet so I settle down under a tree and practice levitating a branch. I’d left my book bag back in my dorm, otherwise I would take the time to pull out my divination textbook that I’ve been studying extra hard since we got back.

“There she is, the prettiest Slytherin princess,” I hear Sirius say from somewhere behind me. I turn to him with a scowl.

“Aww, don’t worry, darling,” James coos as he walks next to Sirius. “You’re the only Slytherin princess we care about.” Him and Sirius laugh at his stupid joke and I roll my eyes at their antics.

“I’m not a bloody princess,” I grumble as they sit on either side of me.

“Sure you are, dove,” Remus says as he sits across from me. “Doesn’t make you a ‘simpering girl in need of a man to save her,’ just makes you special.”

“If that’s how you feel then I cannot relate to you at all, princess,” Sirius starts. “I am most definitely in need of a big, strong man to save me.” He pretends to faint, falling into Remus.

“Oy, pester Jamie with that hero shit. I haven’t got the time.” Remus pushes him off.

“Hey! What’re you volunteering me for? I’ve saved his ass enough times already, I’m nearing my limit,” James argues.

“What the hell? Who’s going to save me then?” Sirius asks, pretending to be outraged.

They each glance at me.

“Well I suppose I could spare a bit of time to save you, but my time is precious to me so I expect to be fairly compensated for my heroic efforts.” I try to play along, but I’m not entirely sure I’m doing it right.

Sirius grins at me. “Why yes of course. I don’t suppose some chocolate frogs would do the trick?”

“Five chocolate frogs and two cauldron cakes,” I counter-offer.

James laughs. “Is that the going rate for princess-saving these days?” He jokes.

“I’m afraid it is, though I hear it goes up for each occurrence,” I explain.

“You drive a hard bargain but considering my limited options I suppose I have no choice. What’s a princess to do these days?” Sirius laments dramatically.

“Damn, if I knew I could be getting sweets out of you for saving your ass I would’ve been cashing in on that this whole time,” Remus quips.

The evening continues on with wise-cracking banter and the boys sharing silly stories about each other. I try to share my own stories in return, but it becomes jarringly apparent to me that me and my friends have significantly less fun outside of class than the boys and their friends. I try not to think so hard about why we’re all so serious all the time.

All the while that we’re talking, James picks at and fiddles with the grass. Occasionally, he switches to picking at a scratch on his arm, and Remus gently guides him back to playing with the grass. I think they think I don’t notice, so I don’t say anything about it.

At some point, Sirius’s hair starts to go a bit everywhere, frizz making him look a bit frantic. He keeps trying to brush it out of his face, but I can tell it keeps bothering him still.

I don’t know what possesses me to do it, but suddenly I ask if he’d like me to braid it back for him. Each boy wears their own look of shock at my offer and I worry I’ve crossed a line.

Once the shock passes, Sirius’s eyes go round and he just nods in response.

I have a spare hair-tie on my wrist, so I move to kneel behind him and start combing through his hair with my fingers, gently working out the couple of tangles I snag on. His shoulders start to sag as I work my fingers through his hair, so I continue to comb through it a couple moments longer than necessary.

James and Remus are talking about one of their assignments they haven’t quite finished that’s due in a couple days, but I focus in on Sirius’s hair. It’s quite soft, and very thick. I notice that Sirius doesn’t try to make any conversation with James or Remus as I work on french-braiding his hair.

I can’t help feeling almost sad as I near the end. I liked the excuse to be close to him.

As I secure the hair-tie at the tip of the braid I let him know I’ve finished. He lets out a sad sigh. I move back to my original spot, although maybe a bit closer to him still.

He gives me a glum smile. “No one’s ever done that for me before,” he explains, softly. “It felt quite nice.”

“How long have you been growing it out?” I ask, matching his tone.

“Last three years or so. It practically grows overnight, though.”

I reach out to fiddle with the end of his braid. He leans closer to me in response. I study the contours of his face. It really is a nice face. Part of me wants to cradle it between my hands. My eyes drift down to his lips and I wonder what they might taste like. I look back up into his piercing grey eyes and try not to betray what I was just thinking about.

“Christ’s sake, James, quit picking at your arm,” Remus exclaims, breaking Sirius and I out of our reverie.

Sirius and I look over to where James has started to make himself bleed just a bit.

“Shit, I’m sorry. I didn’t notice I was messing with it again,” James says, looking stressed. Sirius gives him a sympathetic look.

Remus mutters under his breath, exasperated, as he digs around in his bag before pulling out a bandage.

“I’m sorry, Remus, I really didn’t mean to,” James insists as Remus gently presses the bandage over the re-opened scratch on his arm.

“It’s okay, Jamie. Just try to stay more aware, yeah?” Remus speaks softer this time, giving James’s hand a reassuring squeeze. James nods.

Sirius asks them about the assignment they’d been talking about when I started braiding his hair, swiftly changing the conversation to more navigable territory.

The rest of the night seems to go on without a hitch. The sun eventually sets and the stars are bright in the sky.

I start to feel sleepy, but don’t say anything, not wanting my time with the boys to come to an end. In the end my yawns betray me, and Remus calls it a night on my behalf. They walk me back into the castle before bidding me a good night as I go toward the Slytherin dorms and them toward the Gryffindor tower.

─

I’m fixing my hair for the night at the vanity in our dorm when Andromeda breaks the silence. “You were gone quite a while, is everything all right?”

“As much as it can be,” I reply. “Sorry if I worried you, but I feel better after having some time to think.”

“It’s okay, we understand,” Narcissa is quick to say.

“We heard about what happened in the library this afternoon,” Andromeda speaks plainly. Narcissa looks shocked that she brought it up.

“I figure most people would have by now,” I say neutrally. Andromeda moves to stand behind me and look at me in the mirror. “Look, Andy, it’s all fine. Really. You both know I didn’t want to marry him anyway. I don’t know what my parents will have to say about this, but I can tell you one thing for certain, I am not marrying that lowlife.”

Andromeda holds my gaze in the mirror before giving a sharp nod, then going to finish getting ready for bed.

Later on as I lay in bed I can’t help but remember the night my parents told me about the deal they had made.

─

“It doesn’t matter if you love him or not, you don’t even have to like him, but you will be cordial and respectful. Your future relies on it now,” my mother spoke harshly to me. Then she instructed me to get dressed for the gala we were attending that night. “Do up your makeup, too. The Rosiers will be there and you’ll want to make a good impression as Evan’s new bride.”

I nearly gagged hearing the word “bride” uttered in relation to Evan Rosier. I remained composed and replied with the proper “yes, ma’am.”

The dress my father had picked out was truly horrid. The seams were itchy and the fabric clung to my skin in a way that made me sweat. It was the kind of dress that made me look older than I am, something that my mother would wear. I did my makeup in a way that I thought matched, but it felt heavy on my face.

I came out when my parents called out that it was time to leave. My father inspected me carefully. “Fine,” he said, sounding bored.

At the gala my parents forced me to socialize with nearly every person there. For the most part I was there to be seen and not heard. I listened to the grown-ups drone on for ages about politics and the economy and snide remarks they pretended didn’t count as gossip.

Eventually I managed to sneak outside, under the guise that I was using the women’s powder room. I hoped the fresh air would do me some good, maybe give me a bit of strength to power through the rest of the horrible evening.

“Not having fun in there?” A familiar voice asked. I turned to see James Potter. I hadn’t realized he was here tonight. In fact, I hadn’t realized anyone Hogwarts-aged was here besides me and Evan. I gave him a confused look. “I mean, it’s always been my dream to be paraded around like cattle,” he joked.

I let out a weak laugh and opened my mouth to say something but nothing came out.

“I’m sorry, you’d probably like to be alone right now, I can leave.” He starts toward the door to go back inside.

“No it’s okay, you were here first. I can go back in.”

James pauses next to me. “I don’t mind the company if you don’t,” he offers. I consider him for a moment before deeming him harmless.

“I suppose as long as you’re sensible company,” I tease.

We stand together in silence for a moment.

“I know it’s a bit different, running into each other here, but you seem a bit… despondent tonight,” he says hesitantly.

“You’ll have to forgive me, I’ve uh… Well if I tell you you have to promise not to tell anyone else.” I really shouldn’t trust him while I feel so vulnerable but the look in his eyes convinces me I can.

“Is everything alright?” He asks, taking a step closer to me.

“I really don’t know,” I admit quietly.

“I won’t tell a soul,” he swears.

My brows furrow and I can’t stop my lip from quivering. James takes another step toward me.

“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to,” he offers.

“My parents are forcing me to marry Evan Rosier when we graduate,” I whisper.

His eyebrows shoot up to his hairline. “Oh… I see.” I give a small nod. “I think I would feel rather despondent myself if I were in your shoes.”

“I feel… as though a great axe has cracked into my chest and everything that I am is pouring out and every move I make to stop it the axe just tears into me more.”

“Oh, darling,” James says so softly it tears through me in a twisting pain.

“Please, James, you can’t tell a soul about this,” I nearly beg him. “I know that people will find out soon enough, but I just need some more time to come to terms first.”

He nods in reassurance. “I understand. I won’t tell anyone.”

“Thank you.”

We take in the night air for a few moments. The full moon is bright in the sky. James seems to revere it with disdain.

“I know why Evan and I are here tonight, but not you. It seems everyone else is at least fifteen years our senior,” I say after a while.

“My dad is considering selling his business, I’m meant to be helping him scope out prospective buyers,” he explains. “Not so sure I’ve got his business acumen, or that I’m quite the right fit for modeling his product.” He gives me a goofy smile as he further ruffles up his hair. It somehow doesn’t look any more or less wild than before. I can’t help but smile back. “Usually my mum can help him charm the room, but she had to stay home tonight.”

“Is she feeling alright?” I ask politely.

“No, yeah, she’s just fine. Sirius came down with a cold, though, and my mum wanted to stay home to take care of him.”

I give him a confused look.

“Sirius, he… well he ran away from his parent’s last summer and he’s been staying with me and my folks since,” he clarifies.

“Oh, I see.” I had known Sirius had run away from Regulus, but I didn’t realize he’d been staying with James’s family. “It sounds like he’s very lucky to have you and your family.”

James gives me a sad look because just like Sirius he understands. He looks like he’s about to say something, but I don’t know if I’m entirely prepared to hear whatever it may be.

“I should probably head back in,” I say quickly.

“Right, I should probably find my dad,” James agrees.

─

The next morning at breakfast I walk into the Great Hall and my eyes catch on the Marauders over at the Gryffindor table. Sirius’s eye catches mine and he gives me an encouraging smile.

Evan sits next to me at the Slytherin table and I entirely ignore his existence.

History of magic is my first class for the day and when I take my seat a note falls seemingly from the ceiling. It’s on a different type of paper than the notes Evan sends me, and there’s only a handful of other students in the classroom, so it's not flashy enough to be Evan. I peel it open to find an invite to meet at the green houses after classes, signed by James, Remus, and Sirius.

I quickly tuck the note into the pocket of my robes, but can’t help the smile I wear throughout the day, waiting for my rendezvous with the boys.

─

I don’t know what to expect when I get there, but the boys are already waiting for me.

“What’s this about then?” I ask as I approach.

“It’s about having a bit of fun before you give yourself a hernia,” Sirius jokes.

The boys guide me through preparing a prank on the plant Evan has been growing for his herbology assignment.

“This is so wrong, we could get in so much trouble for this,” I complain.

“But not if we don’t get caught, so move quicker, darling,” James says.

“Don’t you lot have another friend who usually helps you pull these foolish shenanigans off with?” I ask.

“You mean Peter,” Sirius confirms. “He’s been all head over heels for his new girlfriend Mary and she’s convinced him that pranks are childish.”

“They are childish,” I argue.

“Then why’re you helping?” Remus teases.

“I really shouldn’t be,” I start to set down the packet of seeds that I’d been sprinkling into the pot of Evan’s begonias.

“Oh, but princess, he really deserves it,” Sirius says as he wraps his hand around mine to make me pick up the seed packet again. A jolt of electricity shoots up my arm from his touch but I do my best to ignore it.

Several moments later I have thoroughly spread grass seeds into the soil. James reaches around me to pour some sort of quick-grow potion over the seeds. His chest brushes against my back and I pick up on the way he smells like fresh-cut grass and lemon verbena. I nearly lean back against him to smell more of it.

After our prank has been executed Remus places Evan’s pot back on its shelf exactly as it had been. Tomorrow when he comes to class he’ll find his begonias have turned a sickly brown and become overwhelmed with weeds. We sneak away and go a roundabout way to the castle so it doesn’t look like we’ve just come from the green houses.

A part of me knows that I really should split off now to go study, but I’m having so much fun with the boys that I walk with them through the castle as they banter back and forth, giving each other silly dares. I’ve lost track of time when the dinner bell rings, and I realize that I really should depart from them now.

Back in the Great Hall I take my usual seat and try not to look too happy. It becomes all too easy when Evan sits next to me again.

Andromeda scowls at him and Narcissa gives me a nervous glance.

“Will you just talk to me?” He asks, frustrated.

“What, like how you were talking with that Hufflepuff? I don’t think so,” I snap.

He clenches his fist around his fork. I don’t have to look around the table to know that we all pick up on it.

“I don’t know why I even tried with you.” He rolls his eyes.

“I never asked you to,” I said coldly.

“It’s not like I asked either, you know.” My eyes dart around the table to see that everyone is listening very closely, while pretending to be focused on their meal.

With a sigh I turn to face Evan.

“Then you should be glad to hear I won’t marry you.” His jaw clenches and I wait for him to blow up at me. He glances around the table himself to see all eyes on us.

With a scoff and a muttered “whatever,” he storms off.

─

That night I toss and turn in bed before accepting that I won’t be getting any sleep anytime soon. I slip out of bed and pull my sneakers on. Something draws me to the night sky tonight and I want to get as close to it as possible, so I decide to sneak up to the astronomy tower. As I approach the landing I hear soft voices, and I worry there’s a class being held. I move quietly up, curious to see what’s going on. When I poke my head through the doorway I’m shocked to have run into familiar faces.

“Is that dovey?” Remus asks from where he sits, leaning against the half wall. I glance behind me, confused if he means me. When I look back he’s got a tired smile on his face. James is lying between his legs, resting his head on Remus’s thigh, and Sirius is wrapped around his arm with his head on Remus’s shoulder. They’re altogether a big tangle of long limbs and cozy embraces.

“Sorry, I didn’t realize anyone was up here,” I say quickly. It must be too loud because Sirius quickly shushes me. He then points to James’s face and I realize he’s actually asleep. “Oh, shit. I’m so sorry,” I whisper.

“S’all good,” Remus mumbles. “He’s probably already too heavily asleep. We’re lucky he isn’t snoring.”

I let out a soft laugh. Remus and Sirius observe me and I feel awkward under their scrutiny. I’m just in an old pair of flannel pajamas. Thankfully the air hasn’t turned to crisp yet, but up this high a chill settles over my skin.

Sirius tsks when he notices me rubbing my arm. He untangles himself from Remus and sits up a bit straighter. “C’mere, princess. I’ll keep you warm,” Sirius offers, holding his arm up for me to presumably sit next to him.

It must be the exhaustion finally wearing on me that has me lowering my inhibitions, but I sit next to Sirius albeit a bit stiff. He wraps his arm around me and jostles me a bit to lean into him. I can’t help the yawn that escapes me. With his other hand he reaches up to nudge my head until it's leaning on his shoulder.

“What’re you doing up this late, princess?” Sirius asks.

“M’not a princess,” I argue.

“You’re too pretty not to be,” he argues back.

I’m taken aback by his words and am too tired to think of a witty response. “What’re you lot doing up this late?” I ask instead.

“Tomorrow night’s a full moon,” Remus says on the other side of Sirius, as if it’s a perfectly logical explanation.

“Does that make it a good night to stargaze?” I ask for clarity.

“Makes it a good night to be alive and not in pain,” he grumbles.

“What…?” I’m at a loss of words, entirely unsure how to respond.

“See that bright one, right there?” Sirius interjects. I accept his redirection without complaint considering Remus sounds like he might be about to fall asleep too and could be saying any sort of nonsensical things.

“That one?” I point at the brightest star in the sky.

“Yeah, that one. It’s mine,” Sirius tells me.

“It’s yours? How’s that?”

“Well it’s named after me.” His voice is mirthful as he says it.

“Being named after a star and having a star named after you are two very different things, Sirius,” I joke.

“Nah, one and the same to me,” he teases back.

“Whatever,” I murmur. My eyes start to droop and I can’t help leaning on Sirius just a bit more. A bit of his hair tickles my face and I notice the way he smells like sandalwood and violet. It feels safe, here with the boys.

Sirius says something back to me but it’s a distant, muffled sound as sleep pulls at the corners of my consciousness.

I don’t know how long I’m asleep before I’m being gently woken up by James who kneels in front of me.

“Hey, there she is.” He gives me an encouraging smile. I give him a confused look and try to blink away the hazy edges of my vision.

“Come on, princess, we ought to get you back to your dorm so you can have a proper sleep in your comfy bed,” Sirius says and I realize that I’ve been sleeping practically on top of him.

“Oh, Merlin, I’m so sorry.” I push off him. James helps me to stand up, then reaches down to help Sirius up. “How long have I been asleep?” I ask, stretching out a slight crick in my neck.

Sirius glances at his watch. “Maybe half an hour. I was fighting to stay awake myself when Jamie woke up and started complaining about his back.”

I look up at James who makes a guilty face.

“Oh, don’t blame the poor boy,” Remus coos. “The concrete floor must not have been very comfortable.”

“Well why did he lay down like that in the first place then?” Sirius chides.

“It had felt comfy at first,” James says shyly.

“Please, you just wanted to be between Moony’s legs,” Sirius laughs. James and Remus both look shocked and glance nervously at me. My brows furrow in confusion. “Ah, shit, I didn’t mean…”

“Didn’t mean what?” I ask. Suddenly I realized just how comfy the boys had been laying together before I interrupted. My cheeks flare up.

“Dove…” Remus seems hesitant to say anything.

“Are you guys… what exactly were you guys doing up here?”

James’s winces and glances to Remus.

“Nothing like that, Sirius was just joking,” Remus says carefully.

“But you guys are comfortable together like that? Aren’t you?” They glance at each other, unsure how to proceed. “Were you guys on a date and I interrupted?” I ask, slightly horrified. “I am so, so sorry. I should─ I should go, I can’t believe I ruined your night.” I start to rush away.

“Wait, princess,” Sirius calls out and just manages to grab my wrist to stop me. It’s not a tight grasp, just enough to get my attention. I look into his grey eyes that seem to reflect the starlight back at me. “You didn’t ruin anything,” he promises.

“But you all were on a date?” I press.

He hesitates.

“I wouldn’t─ I won’t tell anyone.”

He glances behind me at Remus then back to me.

“Yeah, we’re… The three of us…” Sirius doesn’t seem to know how to say it.

“We’re together,” Remus says finally. Sirius drops my wrist. I move so that the three of them are all in front of me.

“I can’t believe I didn’t realize any sooner,” I say, laughing at myself. They seem relieved by my reaction.

“Well that’s kind of the point,” James giggles.

“Oy, don’t be cheeky,” Remus chides. They all pause to observe me before seeming to all come to a conclusion. “Thank you, dove.”

“What for?”

“For… not freaking out, I guess,” Remus clarifies.

“Oh, well I mean yeah. The three of you are clearly happy together. I’m… I’m glad that you have each other.” They each give me a winning grin. Something pangs in my heart to realize they’re all already taken, and so clearly happy together, but I try to brush that off.

“We should get you back down to your dorm,” James says after a moment.

Remus and Sirius are quick to agree and even though I want to argue I can get back to the dungeons on my own perfectly fine, I agree to let them walk back with me. A selfish part of me just wants to spend more time with them, even despite what I’d just learned.

─

Over the next month I find myself spending more and more time with the boys. Always in private, invited by an unsuspecting note. It doesn’t feel weird like I worried it might now that I know they’re all together romantically. In fact, it actually feels more right the more time I spend with them.

About a week after Evan was caught macking on the Hufflepuff in the library, I got a letter from my mother that simply said the engagement was off. I don’t know how they found out as I never had written them, but I don’t question it with them anymore. That night the boys and I celebrated in their dorm by gorging on sweets from Honeydukes. Evan thankfully left me alone after that and would only occasionally interact with me, similar to before the engagement.

If my friends thought my distance from them lately was weird they never gave any indication. Andromeda would inquire about my whereabouts, but I easily brushed it off as needing time to study in the library.

Occasionally the boys will rope me into a silly prank, but for the most part we meander low-traffic areas of the castle and talk and play weird muggle games that Remus teaches us.

Whatever weird emotions I had felt about learning that the boys were in a relationship together had worn off quickly. It must have merely been a bit of jealousy that they found something that made them happy, when I had almost been trapped in something that would make me miserable.

─

The morning after a late night escapade to the lake with the boys I make my way to potions class. I’m barely staying awake, but excited for the day’s lesson. When I walk through the door I see that Amortentia has been written across the blackboard.

The whole class is abuzz while we work to brew our potions, everyone excited to see if their potion will work. Slughorn carefully supervises as we mix and stir. This is one of the classes I share with the self-proclaimed Marauders and I keep a careful eye that they don’t do anything tremendously wrong, but Remus is very careful in following the directions. I notice each of them stealing glances my way in turn.

Eventually, Slughorn makes his rounds to inspect our completed potions. Andromeda and I get the highest score in the class.

“Now do share with us what you can smell,” Slughorn instructs.

Andromeda goes first, leaning in to carefully smell our potion. “Hmm… It smells like cedarwood,” she pauses to smell it again, “juniper berry… and pineapple!”

“Ah! How exciting,” Slughorn proclaims. “And you?” He prompts me.

I lean over the cauldron to inhale deeply. “It’s very clean smelling,” I start. “And also florally, I’d say like violets and cut grass.” I breathe in again. “And it’s a bit… err─ I can’t quite place it,” I explain. I force myself to keep my gaze on Slughorn while the whole class watches me.

“Very good.” Slughorn gives a sharp nod. “Fifteen points to Slytherin.”

He turns then to the table next to us and everyone’s attention shifts. I can’t help but glance toward Remus, who’s already staring straight at me.

He knows.

Bloody hell he knows.

He knows that Sirius smells like violets and that James smells like cut grass.

Merlin now he’s going to think I’ve got feelings for his boyfriends.

But it's worse than that because the last thing I could smell was cinnamon. Cinnamon like how Remus smells like cinnamon.

Because I’ve got feelings for all of them.

#poly!marauders x slytherin!reader #poly!marauders x reader #remus lupin x reader #james potter x reader #sirius black x reader #poly!marauders #marauders era #slytherin!reader #slytherin #remus lupin x sirius black #remus lupin x james potter #james potter x sirius black #harry potter fandom

116 notes · View notes

inotakumagf · 2 days ago

Text

persephone’s descent

✶ gojo satoru x persephone!reader

word count ✺ 2.7K

summary ✺ no one knows what truly happened to persephone when hades dragged her down to his realm. no one’s even heard of the demigod who made the tedious journey to save her.

warning ✺ i don’t haaate the story of hades and persephone i just hate how modern interpretations of the myth make demeter out to be a crazy woman who is “ruining” their love & hades is somehow the nicest guy who has done no wrong ever when the homeric hymn to demeter makes my heart break. i like different retellings where it is more of a love story, but in the og myth he did kidnap her & force her to stay with him against her will. im gonna shut up now otherwise i’d go on and on if i had my way lol. also like i mentioned in the poll zeus is very much NOT your father in this 👍 i hope you enjoy, please reblog/comment i’d love to hear ur thoughts!

No one ever cares about your side of the story.

The tale of Persephone and Hades has been retold and romanticized a thousand times over, and each time it strays farther and farther from the truth. It becomes a love story about Hades’ adoration of Persephone, and their fight against her crazy mother’s attempts at keeping the two star-crossed lovers apart. Persephone becomes a doting wife and the millitant queen of the Underworld. Her kidnapping turns into a misunderstanding of the love Hades has for her. Or worse, some myth retellings claim that Persephone herself tricked Hades into taking her down below to his realm.

That’s not what happened. As if you’d ever go anywhere with him willingly.

You’d never invited Naoya’s attention, not once. He wasn’t even supposed to make his ascension to the mortal realm. But he’d seen you bathing in moonlight from beneath his helm of darkness, watching as you flourish a field of irises. He’d been so taken by your beauty, eyes dragging along where moonshine reflected off of your skin. He decided then that he had to have you, and he dragged you down, down, down to his decaying realm. Away from your home, away from your mother, and away from all that you hold dear.

Demeter had sensed the loss of your presence the moment you disappeared down into the cavernous Underworld. It felt like your life had slipped away from her that day. You find out later that she had punished the Earth for your loss, as she caused crops to wither and vegetation to rot with each passing day.

You know she would have come for you herself if she could, but Zeus has long since forbidden the major Gods from acting directly against one another. Of course, being kidnapped by an Olympian God is not enough reason for him to intervene on your behalf, since you’re no major God yourself.

In your immortal life, it’s impossible to remember how much time goes by in mortal standards, and it’s even harder to keep track in the Underworld. You spend most of your hours, days, maybe even years trapped in your cave of a room. You spend every second clawing and screaming against the rock walls, making sure Naoya has not a moment of peace from you.

He is easy to anger, and you’ve caused a nasty frown to grace his face anytime he looks at you. Still, he decides that he must show off his prize to his loyal court, because how many people can say they’ve captured the Goddess of nature? He has you sit on a smaller throne beside his own as he entertains members of his court. And of course, he is always offering you food. Everything from juicy pomegranate seeds to jeweled berries to plump poultry.

Naoya must think you’re an idiot, as if you don’t know the one rule a visitor must remember when passing through the Underworld. Even to a God, the food will hold a piece of your soul hostage, as if tying you to the ground below. As a God, you don’t need food to survive, so all his obvious attempts are shot down. But you do need ambrosia and nectar from time to time, and you refuse to let him see how the deprivation of Godly food is getting to you.

You’re nursing a growing headache thanks to Naoya’s constant attention and the lack of ambrosia as you watch courtiers you hardly recognize kneel before the dais you sit on. They each have a ridiculously intricate gift for Naoya as they beg for his help with an idiotic political or social issue for their oh-so-gracious king to solve. Naoya asks for your input from time to time, not because he actually cares, but because he finds your growing annoyance hilarious.

A spirit bows in front of you on the dais. “Oh great King. I stand before you to ask you for your words of advice. You see, I have been in love with a woman for years. But it seems as though her heart has been captured by another man, and I believe she may marry him. How can I reunite with my beloved?”

Naoya taps his fingers against the bone of his throne’s armrest. “Hm. It seems you have quite the predicament. What do you think, darling dearest?”

You rub your fingers into your throbbing temple, muffling a groan of boredom. “Everyone gets their heart broken all the time. If you couldn’t tell this woman you loved her before she fell in love with the other man, maybe that’s your own fault. It’s not my problem, so why do I have to listen to your pathetic chatter?”

Naoya cackles loudly, pounding his fist against his throne’s armrest. “Aren’t you a romantic? Well, there’s your answer, lad.”

Naoya motions for the spirit to leave so that the next person can have their turn. But the spirit doesn’t budge.

“I never said she was in love with this man.”

Before you can ask what he means, the spirit throws off the raggedy cloak from his shoulders. As he does so, his form flickers until it solidifies into warm, solid flesh. You gasp. With the hood of the cloak no longer hiding the man, you instantly recognize his soft, white hair and piercing blue eyes as they meet your own.

Naoya bellows, “What is this? A live mortal in my realm? I should have you strung and castrated, so that you may truly belong here, boy.”

Gojo Satoru points a long finger at Naoya in accusation. “You will release the Goddess of nature at once, or I’ll be forced to destroy you.”

Naoya nearly falls over in laughter. “Oh, I will, will I? And who do you think you are, speaking to the God of the Underworld like that?”

Satoru straightens his back so that he appears taller, and if you didn’t know who he was you would have thought he was a God himself. “I am Gojo Satoru, son of Zeus and champion of Nike. I act on behalf of Demeter, who demands you return her daughter, or else the destruction she has caused to the world above will continue to spread down until she destroys every corner of your so-called kingdom until there is nothing left of it.”

You don’t doubt Satoru’s ability to defeat Naoya, but the God just laughs in his face. That is, until the demigod pulls out his sword. You’ve never seen this weapon of his before. It’s so sharp, you swear you can actually see it cut the air into slivers. If you could guess, the weapon looks a lot like the work of Hephaestus himself.

Satoru extends the weapon, pointing it directly at Naoya. “No? Then I will fight you and return the Goddess to her rightful home.”

Naoya steps carefully off of his throne, unsheathing his Stygian blade. It’s an impressive, obsidian sword, but it dwarfs in comparison to Satoru’s weapon.

Naoya hardly takes a step towards Satoru before the demigod has repositioned himself to the right, slashing his silver blade against the God of the Dead’s shoulder. Naoya blocks the attack, just barely. Their fight picks up after the first blow; Gojo presses his attacks forward in order to force Naoya to default to defensive blocks. Gojo’s strikes are fast and hard, constantly pushing Naoya back. He catches Naoya off guard, slashing his sword against the God’s face.

Naoya screams. “You insolent bastard. I’ll kill you for this.”

Satoru tucks his sword into its sheath. You want to scream at him to pull the damn weapon back out, but he just smirks at Naoya. “Nah, I don’t think so.”

He blasts a massive ball of electricity at Naoya, and you can taste the crackle of lightning on your tongue at the force of his power. It causes the cavernous roof above Naoya to crumble upon him. You know it won’t kill or even harm him all that much, but it will distract him for a few minutes.

Satoru leaves Naoya under the rubble to leap onto the dais. He cups his hand against your cheek and soothes his thumb across your face. “Are you alright, my rose?”

You press a shaky hand over his own. “I’m okay. Are you really here, Satoru?”

He laughs lightly, and you’ve never been happier to hear the sweet sound. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

You blink in disbelief. “Because I’ve dreamt of this every night.”

His smile sobers up into a concerned furrow of his brow, cradling your face in order to press a kiss to the top of your head. Your eyes flutter at the warmth of his lips.

“I’m here,” he promises. His larger hand presses yours against his chest, letting you feel his heartbeat. You love the speed of his heart, it’s just so unlike your own, so human. “But we really should leave before he collects himself, don’t you think, my rose?”

He takes you by your hand and pulls you deeper into the Underworld, until you stand before a tunnel that looks to lead up. Satoru ushers you ahead of him, keeping a hand at the small of your back.

“An exit?” You ask, turning to face the demigod. “How on Earth did you find this?”

He grins. “Courtesy of the Messenger God. Even the Underworld gets deliveries.”

You frown. “Hermes just…told you about this?”

“For a price” he says, winking. Your stomach flutters at his casual flirtation.

A loud roar behind you caused your heart rate to spike. It’s easy to guess that Naoya has escaped, and the shout sounds entirely too close for your comfort.

Satoru rushes ahead of you, pulling you along behind him as he leads you away from Naoya’s realm as fast as he can. He leads you further up and up, not turning back as he hastens his pace.

You stumble on the rough path, and Satoru looks back immediately, grasping you in his arms. “We can’t stop. Come, let me carry you.”

He sweeps you off your feet, and you have to clasp your arms around his neck to keep stable. You laugh into his neck as his hair tickles your cheek.

The ascension is long, but Satoru doesn’t falter once. He just holds you tighter against him. When you're out on the surface, you suck in a breath as you finally see the night sky again. Satoru lets you down gently, and you crouch down to run your fingers through the dry, cold ground until lush grass and baby blue flowers sprout beneath your fingers. Tears fall from your eyes in joy. You’re home.

You straighten out, leaping right into Satoru’s arms. Without hesitation, he lifts you and spins you around. You can’t help but laugh in pure joy. Your arms wrap around your lover’s neck, pulling him into a sweet kiss. He deepens it easily, pressing himself against you. Your hands splay over his smooth cheeks, running your fingers over the smile stretching across his face. You nuzzle your nose against his, staring into his eyes as though you might slip away again. Something crackles behind you.

You don’t need to turn to know that your mother has arrived. You can feel her presence as if you share the same heartbeat. Satoru lets go of you so that you can hug her. You nearly sob at the feeling of her warm embrace. Demeter hugs you so tightly that you think you’d choke if you needed air like a mortal. She pulls back to stare at you, cupping your chin in her hand.

“My daughter has been rightly returned,” she announces on the breeze. You know her words will carry around the Earth, until the land prospers once more.

Demeter turns to Satoru. “Thank you, son of Zeus. You will be rewarded for your bravery. I can give you jewels, or a kingdom, or the strength of a thousand men.”

Satoru shakes his head. “I have no need for any of those material desires, My Lady.”

Demeter raises a brow. Knowing your mother, she might decide to smite him on the spot. You lay a hand on her shoulder and beg, “Please, mother.”

Demeter sighs at your pouting face. She scowls at Satoru, but she makes no move to kill him as of right now, which is good news. “Fine. What is it that you want, demigod?”

Satoru kneels before the two of you, dipping his head low. You are used to this reverence of his, but it makes you blush to see him like this after so long apart. “If I may ask, Lady Demeter, for one wish, it would be for you to allow me to ask for your daughter's hand in marriage.”

Your eyes widen at the statement. Satoru’s head is bowed, and you can’t see his face. All you want right now is to see his face.

As if reading your mind, Satoru looks up at you. His eyes find yours, staring at you with love that you know your face reflects back. You want to kneel into the soft dirt in front of him. You want to touch, to hold him. You want.

Demeter hums. “Dangerous, son of Zeus, to wish for such a thing. Do you know what you’re asking me?”

Satoru’s eyes never leave yours. “Yes, I do.”

“So you know that you are a mortal, asking to marry a Goddess that will outlive you by ions, lifetimes. You know that Naoya will curse you for such mockery of his power. You will live and die painfully, and your afterlife will be full of eternal suffering. You will never see the gates of Elysium, if Naoya can help it.”

“I know,” Satoru repeats. “And I accept my fate, as long as I can spend the rest of my life at the Goddess’s feet. Even when I die a mortal death, I will love and worship her from beyond my grave, endlessly. This is the fate that I want.”

Demeter considers him, for a moment. You know your mother, and you know the exact moment she makes her decision. Tears pool in your eyes. She looks at Satoru, who is staring at you. She looks at you, staring right back at Satoru.

“I will not grant you this.” For the first time, Satoru’s attention snaps to your mother. His eyebrows quiver, and his mouth softens into a pout.

“Please,” he says softly.

She glances at you, and you turn to see the mischievous glint in her eyes. “No, I cannot fulfill this request. If you wish to marry my daughter, that is a gift she must grant you. But I will give you a gift of my own choosing.”

She holds her open palm to Satoru, and a golden apple materializes in her hand. This, you were not expecting from your mother at all. You both know what this represents. Immortality. Godhood. You stare at Satoru, and he stares up at you.

Your mother becomes impatient. “Well, son of Zeus? What will it be?”

He takes your hands in his own. “My rose. I cannot offer you a kingdom or power like Naoya can. I am a mere breath in your presence. But I can offer you my whole and true love. I can promise that I will always serve you, loyally. As your husband, and as your humble servant. Will you allow me the pleasure of marrying you?”

He barely finishes by the time you throw yourself at him, nodding emphatically and you press kisses all over his face. Your knees are dirtied by the soft ground, but you don’t care when Satoru’s entirety surrounds you. You inhale deeply, pressing your nose into his skin. He cradles your cheek in his warm palm, pulling away so that he can admire you.

“My Goddess,” he murmurs.

Demeter grumbles and you can practically hear the roll of her eyes. “Lovesick fools. Aphrodite certainly had her fun with you two.”

#gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru fanfic #gojo satoru x you #gojo x reader #gojo satoru fluff #gojo satoru x y/n #satoru gojo x reader #satoru gojo x y/n #satoru gojo x you #satoru gojo fluff #satoru gojo fanfiction #jujutsu kaisen fanfiction #jjk x reader #mywriting

74 notes · View notes

lovesickhughes · 23 hours ago

Text

SILVER BELLS — nico hischier x reader

a/n: happy december! here is the first of my upcoming christmas series. i loved writing this so much and feel like it was a great way to start the holiday season! a big thank you to @hughesinthebox for helping me with the ending of this fic, it honestly made it 10x better and more adorable, i appreciate you! i hope you enjoy 🫶🏻🎄🤍🧣

tags: nico hischier x reader

warnings: mentions of pregnancy (not the reader), FLUFF TO MY CORE

word count: 2.3k

series masterlist

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

“Alright, just one more button and you, my little munchkin, will be all ready to go,” You heard Nico coo to your eight-month-old daughter as he buttoned up her cotton onesie that provided an extra thick layer of warmth to take on the brisk December air. As for yourself, you paced around the main room of your parent’s house, gathering all the last belongings you needed for the family outing.

Thankfully this year, the Devils’ schedule aligned perfectly with the holidays, giving you ample time to share with your family before Nico would soon be back to his busy schedule and captain responsibilities.

Nico and you were visiting your parents in your hometown for this week, before travelling to visit Nico’s side of the family the following week. While your family decided to stay at home and spend time watching Christmas classics, your brother and sister-in-law, as well as Nico, you and your daughter Ivy, decided to attend the city’s Christmas market and Christmas tree lighting.

You remember as a child, experiencing the amusing sights of all the houses in your neighbourhood decorated with bright and colourful lights, so when proposing the idea to your siblings and husband, they all were more than happy to reminisce over your shared childhood.

Nico delicately placed Ivy in the carrier, buckling her into the seat, making sure she was adjusted correctly, before grabbing his own coat to put on, picking it up from the dining room table and sliding his arms through. When you had finished packing the diaper bag to go, placing it on the table next to Ivy, you peek over at your bubbly daughter, eyes growing soft at the sight of her features, knowing they were an exact copy of Nico’s.

You sigh in content, “my sweet girl.” You said quietly, before reaching down to place a kiss on the soft skin of her cheek. As you stood back up, you felt the hands of Nico slide to your sides, squeezing softly, causing flutters to rush through your veins.

You turned in your stance to face him, his hands still resting on your hips.

“Hi, you.” You say through a giggle, trying your hardest to hold back the giddy feeling that erupted through your body.

“Hi, baby,” Nico responded, leaning down to place a quick peck on your lips, before smiling into your eyes again. Your hands lift to come to his shoulder, resting around his neck and your hands finding the nape of his neck, scratching softly.

“Thank you for getting her ready.” You thanked, smiling as you looked back to your left at your daughter who quietly babbled to herself.

“You don’t need to thank me.” Nico responded with a squint in his eyes. He then reached down again to meet your lips, this time holding the kiss a few seconds longer with more adoration filled between. You both pull away, smiling at each other before getting your shoes on and bidding your goodbyes to your family staying home, and exiting the house to meet your brother, Noah, and sister-in-law, Lauren, who would be driving the group to the venue.

Nico opened the one back door of the SUV, while you walked to the far side of the car, sliding into the middle seat to help Nico attach the baby carrier with Ivy inside, into the seat of the car, making sure it was secure for the drive to the market.

“All ready?” Your brother asked from the driver seat, turning to look back at the three of you in the back row. Nico and you gave a nod, while Ivy was preoccupied with her new stuffed animal your Mom had gifted her as a welcome gift to Grandma and Grandpa’s.

The drive passed by quickly, but the parking situation added an extra twenty minutes to the commute before you were all stepping out of the SUV. You walked to the trunk of your brother’s car, opening the door over your head and pulling out the stroller for your daughter and setting it up, while Nico began putting on the baby carrier he agreed to wear for the day for your daughter to have a better view.

Placing the diaper bag in the bottom part of the stroller, you then reached in the side door of the car to unbuckle Ivy from her seat, her expression lighting up when she saw your face.

“Hi, my sweet girl!” You exclaimed, mouth falling open in excitement, earning giggles and incoherent noises from your daughter who wiggled in your grip. Her legs bounced up and down in excitement as you held her slightly above your shoulders, and you pulled her in, peppering kisses onto her soft cheek. “Ugh, mommy loves you so much.” You mumbled into the side of her head while kissing the fluffy hood that covered her head.

You turned to face Nico who already had his gaze landed on you, a look of adoration filling his eyes. The two of you swiftly placed your daughter into the carrier, Nico adjusting the straps on his shoulders, while you made sure the contraption was snug around all areas of your daughter to keep her safe.

Once ready, the four of you and your infant set foot towards the city’s display. There was live Christmas music playing in the distance, while the noise of bustling cars and city life filled the background.

“I’m glad we could do this,” Lauren said, and the rest nodded in agreement, “especially getting to show little Ivy the awesome Christmas lights.” She cooed as she looked towards Nico who had his arms out in front of him to let Ivy hold onto his fingers.

You smile at the sight, feeling a warmth run through your veins. “Me too, I appreciate you both coming with,” You smile at your brother and his wife, “It’s almost time you two bring a little one like Ivy into the group.” You joke, nudging your brother who walked beside you, pushing the stroller for you, despite the protest.

You arrive at the street that hosted the Christmas market, white tents being set up on either side of the street, all filled with small businesses selling their products. It varied from homemade foods like flavoured dips and jars of pickles, to handmade ornaments and other decorations for the holiday season. You all perused down the street, finding little gifts to give to your family members and friends.

A couple of hours had gone by before the sun had started setting and the thick snow clouds began to cover the night sky. The plans followed that you would attend the Christmas tree lighting in the main quad of the venue, before heading back to your parents’ house for dinner.

Ivy had periodically napped throughout the day, and thankfully had a moment of energy, perfectly enough at the time the massive sixty-foot tree would be lit up and glisten in the snow that had just begun to fall.

The crowd gathered around, forming a circle around the barricades as the workers hustled in preparation. Nico stood closer, wanting Ivy to have a view of the lighting, while your brother stood next to him and they chatted amongst themselves.

Lauren and you stood behind, gazing at the pair, a warm feeling in your heart at the sight. No one would have told you even three years ago that this is where you would be, married to the Devils’ captain with a kid.

Nico had – without a doubt – changed your life for the better. He provided you with love and a sense of security and there was never a moment where he didn’t bring you joy. And to make it even better, sharing a child with the man you loved was the biggest blessing you could have ever received. She was your lifeline and more, and you wanted nothing more than to provide with all the love you had to give in your heart.

The countdown began, everyone chanting the numbers in anticipation, and you peered over Nico’s shoulder to see your daughter’s reaction. When the number reached one and the tree erupted in a bright, illuminating essence, the squeals from your daughter made your stomach flutter in a mother-ly instinct. You smile at her and reach your hand and place it on her small torso, rubbing up and down as you whisper sweet nothings to her.

You look up at Nico who is already smiling down at you, a bright smile erupting across his face before he leans down to kiss you. The kiss is soft, but filled with affection and desire.

When you pull away, you smile at your husband again, before lifting yourself on your toes to place a peck on his rosy cheek, cold to the touch from the winter air.

“I love you,” you speak softly so only Nico can hear. He smiles at you even brighter, placing another quick kiss to your lips.

“I love you more, honey.” He smiled back.

When you step back behind your brother and Nico, Lauren nudges your shoulder to reach your attention.

You turn to face her, “Y/n,” she says seriously, “with the way Nico looks at you, and how you are as the most adorable little family,” she pauses, pulling you in closer to her frame, “I can’t wait to tell Noah we’re going to have one of our own.” She says through a smile, a shocked expression falling onto your face in excitement.

“You’re kidding, when did you find out?” You asked excitedly.

“About a month ago, I was waiting to share the news, but I felt like you deserved to know a bit before the rest.” She spoke softly, smiling.

You gave her a quick, but tight hug, careful not to bring attention to yourself and sister-in-law.

“Ivy’s going to be so excited to have a little cousin.” Was all you could think now having revealed Lauren was expecting.

–

Later that night, after Ivy was fed with her bottle, and placed in her portable bassinet, Nico and you were now getting ready for bed, sharing the bathroom that was across the hall from the spare room you were occupying at your family’s house.

Nico had already changed, so after brushing his teeth, he made his way into bed, careful to not disrupt Ivy’s peaceful state.

You follow shortly, turning off the hallway light and quietly retreating back to the spare room, avoiding making too much noise to prevent waking any other family members up. Shutting the door behind you softly, you walk to the side of the bed you would be sleeping on, quickly stripping from your sweatpants and sweater you had been wearing while watching classic Christmas movies with your family after a delicious dinner.

Nico, from his side of the bed, reaches on his side attempting to reach for your bare hip that was only covered by the thin layer of your black lace underwear. He manages only to snug a finger under the fabric, letting the elastic snap back against your skin with a smirk written on his face. You playfully scold him for his attempt, before quickly slipping on your pair of Christmas themed pyjama shorts and matching button-up top.

Climbing into bed, you immediately find yourself in the embrace of Nico, his arm wrapping under your frame and around your shoulder, while his other arm meets the side of your hip, his hand lightly gripping your body.

“How was your day, my love?” You asked as a small whisper, cautious of your sleeping daughter. Looking up at Nico, you admired his features, his moustache growing more prominent as you insisted he regrow one after the month of November, and his tired but soft eyes looking at you.

“Amazing, Ivy’s reactions made my whole world.” He smiled with excitement as he recollected his thoughts from today’s events.

Before you could respond, his face nuzzled into your neck, inhaling your scent, his facial hair tickling your face and earning a giggle from your lips. You lightly push away from Nico, placing a kiss on his jawline before he laid on his back and you hovered over him.

“You can’t say anything yet, and you’ll find out soon,” you whispered, “but, Lauren’s pregnant… she told me today.” You said through a smile, having to bite your lip to prevent yourself from making any noises of excitement.

Nico’s eyebrows raised, eyes widened and mouth slightly fell open in surprise, “no way, good for them.” He smiled before he paused for a moment, looking like he was trying to gather the words to say something else.

“What?” You encouraged softly, giving him a slight pout. Nico’s hand reaches and meets your hip again, slipping under your shirt to run his hand up and down your back.

“Nothing, well–” he pauses, almost looking nervous, “it can’t help but make me want to have another one.” He states, earning a shocked expression on your face in return.

“Really?” You clarify and he responds with a nod.

“Maybe not right at this moment, but I’d love to give Ivy another sibling or two. I want nothing more than to make a family with you and now that we’ve started, why stop?” He proposed. Your heart melted hearing those words fall across his lips, so much that words could not describe how you felt. You plant a slow, intimate kiss on Nico’s lips, Nico inhaling sharply through his nose at the contact before melting under you.

You pull away, your breathing hitched.

“So I take that as a yes?” Nico offered through a laugh, and nothing else would be a sufficient response other than bringing your lips to his again, nodding your head in agreement at the offer.

Oh, how the Christmas season brings an array of holiday surprises.

#nico hischier #nico hischier fic #nico hischier fluff #nico hischier x reader #nico hischier blurb #nhl blurb #nhl x reader #nhl fic #nhl imagine

141 notes · View notes

astrcmoni · 2 days ago

Text

⁖✦ ˖ flicker of light ˖ ✦⁖

pairing: billie eilish x fem!reader

MASTERLIST

synopsis: Two years after a devastating breakup, you unexpectedly cross paths with Billie, the ex who shattered your heart, at a crowded party. As the night unravels, unresolved emotions, lingering tension, and unspoken truths collide, forcing you to confront the love and pain that still bind you.

wc: 3.8k

warnings: angst, smoking, slight cussing

authors note: hope you all enjoy it as much as I did writing it, let me know what you think.

You never thought you’d see her again, not after the way she left. she had always been a storm—unpredictable, consuming, leaving wreckage in her wake. You tried to hold on, but there’s only so much a person can give before they break. When she walked out, it felt like she took the last of your light with her.

You remember the way it felt to watch her walk away—her oversized hoodie swallowing her frame, her head low like she couldn’t bear to face you. She didn’t even slam the door; it just clicked shut, soft and final. You told yourself you were done with her, but that was easier said than lived.

It’s been two years since that night. Two years since her voice, soft but certain, said, “I can’t stay.” Two years since you swore you’d never let her back in. But tonight, under the illumination of the glowing party lights you see her again.

Standing across the room like a ghost made flesh. drowning in her own sea of bodies as people danced around you both causing a claustrophobic separation. Her hair’s a different color now, and her face looks a little older—sharper in some ways, softer in others—but it’s her. There’s no mistaking those eyes.

You caught sight of her first, squinting at the back of her frame, not fully realizing who it was until she turned towards you. then, those blue eyes locked with yours. and it feels like the ground drops out from beneath you, leaving you weightless and frozen, suspended in a moment you can’t escape.

Your chest tightens—not just in surprise, but in something deeper. It’s like all the feelings you thought you’d buried are clawing their way back to the surface, making your heart ache in a way that feels almost physical.

Your breath catches, the kind of catch that’s barely noticeable but feels like everything inside you is short-circuiting. Time slows down, or maybe it speeds up—you can’t tell because everything is a blur, a haze of indistinct shapes and muffled sounds. You don’t even register the people around you anymore; they’re just noise, fading into the background as your vision tunnels on them.

And then there’s the sting, sharp and raw, a rush of memories slamming into you all at once. The sound of her laugh, the way she used to look at you, all of the things that were left unsaid. It’s like your mind is running a reel of every mistake, every moment, and you can’t stop it no matter how much you want to. You feel too much and nothing at the same time—numb and overwhelmed, like your body and your emotions are completely out of sync.

Party forgotten all about and it feels as if the world narrows to just the two of you, that was the last thing you wanted right now. The more you two stare at each other the more the air around you feels heavy, like it’s pressing down on your chest, making it impossible to breathe. Every sound around you—voices, music, laughter, clinking glasses—starts to blur together, growing louder and louder until it’s just noise, grating and overwhelming. Your skin prickles with heat, the bodies around you seemingly too close for your comfort and it feels like the walls are closing in, each inch tighter than the last. There’s nowhere to focus, no solid ground to stand on, and your pulse pounds in your ears, drowning out everything else.

You feel an urgent need to move, to get away, to escape the suffocating weight of it all. Your eyes dart around, searching for an exit, anywhere you can break free from the crushing space around you. Shoving past the partygoers without even registering as so much of a face. Mind fixated on finding some fresh air, something open, and quiet.

Your mind raced, thoughts and questions zipping pass one another. What in the actual fuck was she doing here? This was supposed to be a small event but you should’ve known better. It was a album release party for a mutual friend, but with sightings of her becoming less and less your worry began to dissipate. But that all went out of the window tonight, just your luck.

Finally you found a door, pushing through it and being greeted by the cool air of the LA night sky. you inhale the air, gulping it as if you were abandoned at sea and it was your lifeline. Finding a small curb, you take a seat on it as your hands found their way to your knees, clutching yourself as you tried to steady your breathing, allowing you to be present once more. It’s not instant relief as your mind was still racing, chest still tight— but at least you’re out.

The crack of the earth beneath feet reaches your ears—a faint shuffle of footsteps against the pavement, growing louder with each step. Pace steady but hesitant, like they’re not trying to startle you but can’t decide if they should keep going. The click of shoes echoes quietly in the still night, a contrast to the muffled hum of music emerging from the party behind you.

You don’t turn around at first, every instinct inside telling you to stay still, like moving would somehow make it real. But the sound gets closer, the steps slowing as they near. There’s a pause—long enough for your breath to hitch—and then the faint crunch of gravel as they shift their weight. You can almost feel them standing there, their presence heavier than the silence between you. Your eyes flicked over to the shoes of the person that stood beside you and they confirmed your already strong suspicions.

“Can I sit?” Her voice is low, almost timid, and it throws you. Billie was never timid. She was loud, unpredictable, and bold. Always the one who burned brightest in any room you were in together.

Could she sit? tuh. The question lingered in the air between you, heavy and unwanted. After all the pain and bullshit she caused you, after the nights spent choking on tears you’d promised yourself were the last, the instinct was to scream a hard, unshakable hell no. How does she get to just show up, and ask something of you? You wanted to tell her to leave, to walk away as easily as she had all those years ago. It would’ve been so simple—just a few words, and she’d be gone again.

But your heart—that damned, stubborn heart of yours—betrayed you. Beneath the layers of anger and resentment, beneath the memories of slammed doors and empty spaces she used to fill, there was still a soft, desperate ache. A quiet part of you, buried under years of resolve, that wanted to hear her voice again, to feel her presence even if it hurt.

So you hesitated. The silence stretched, sharp as glass, and for a moment, she almost looked ready to walk away without an answer. But then you tilted your head ever so slightly, a gesture so small it almost felt insignificant, and her eyes flickered with something you couldn’t place—relief? Guilt? Hope? She moved quickly, like she thought you might change your mind, lowering herself into the spot on your left.

For a moment, neither of you spoke. She sat with her hands clasped tightly together, her shoulders hunched, as though she could make herself smaller, less imposing. And you just stared ahead, watching the glow of the streetlights dance against the asphalt, trying not to think about how close she was, how her scent—something faintly familiar, like lavender and rain—drifted toward you in the cool night air.

You wanted to ask her why she came back. You wanted to tell her to leave again. But most of all, you just wanted to feel something other than the confusing swirl of anger and longing twisting in your chest. And so, for the first time in years, you sat together in the quiet, the unspoken words between you louder than anything either of you could say.

“I didn’t know you’d be here,” she says quietly, her voice cracking just enough to remind you why it mattered so much in the first place.

“yea…didn’t think I’d see you,” you reply. And you hadn’t. You’d spent months—years—working to get over her, scrubbing her out of your mind like a stubborn stain. Some days you thought you’d succeeded. But now that she’s here, all it takes is one look at her for the memories to pour back in.

The way she used to smile at you in the dark, like you were her entire world. The way her hand used to linger on yours, warm and grounding. The way she kissed you, like she was terrified you’d disappear if she didn’t hold you close enough.

And then the way she left.

The way you watched as her back disappeared the more steps she took, the way your heart shattered into what felt like millions of pieces and how you were left to pick up every single shard.

“So… how are you?”

Her voice cut through the silence like a blade, sharp and unwelcome. It lingered in the air, raw and exposed, forcing you to confront a question you hadn’t asked yourself in a long time.

How were you?

The truth was, you didn’t know. You’d spent the years since her absence piecing yourself back together, brick by brick, like a fragile tower of Lego blocks. Some days, the pieces fit; other days, they crumbled under the weight of the memories she left behind. You tried new things—picked up hobbies, traveled to places you thought might cleanse you of her ghost. You even let yourself fall into the arms of others on occasion, hoping someone else might finally feel right. But none of it stuck. None of it filled the void she carved into your chest.

Still, you couldn’t tell her that. She didn’t deserve the truth, didn’t deserve to know about the nights you stayed up convincing yourself you were better off, or the mornings when you woke to find her name lingering on your lips like a bitter aftertaste.

So instead, you told her the easiest lie. “I’m fine,” you said, your voice smooth, practiced. You didn’t dare look at her when you said it, afraid your eyes might betray the cracks still mending beneath the surface.

She nodded, a faint, almost imperceptible gesture, and for a moment, you thought she might believe you. But the way her gaze lingered—searching, gentle, and entirely too familiar—made you wonder if she could see through the facade, if she still knew you in ways no one else did.

You turned your eyes back to the streetlights, refusing to give her anything more. Fine was all she needed to know. Fine was all she was getting.

“I—” Billie stops herself, looks down. She does that thing where she chews her bottom lip when she’s anxious, and you hate that you remember it so clearly. “I’m sorry,” she finally says, her voice breaking on the words. “For the way I left. For… all of it.”

You scoff before you can stop yourself. “That’s it? You’re sorry?”

She flinches, and for a split second, you feel guilty. But then you remember the nights you spent crying over her, the days you spent forcing yourself to get out of bed, to move on. She doesn’t get to come back and expect it to be easy.

“I thought I was doing what was best for you,” she says quietly. “I thought if I stayed, I’d just keep messing you up.”

Your eyes roll so hard they could fall into orbit, a scoff bubbling from your chest at her words. The sentiment is tired, hollow, the same recycled bullshit excuse you’ve heard from past ex’s—but Billie? No, this was a new wound entirely. Of course, two years apart, and she’s already sinking her claws in, pricking at your nerves.

You fish into the pocket of your jacket, fingers brushing the familiar papered edge of a joint you rolled earlier, your lifeline in case the night went sideways—which, apparently, it had. With a soft click of your tongue, you press it between your lips, muttering a dry “tuh.” Seriously? This? Now?

But when you reach back into your jacket for a lighter, your brows knit together. Your hands shift to your sides, patting pockets with increasing urgency, fingers fumbling over fabric.

“The fuck?” you mutter under your breath, shuffling and searching as your irritation simmers into something hotter, more desperate. Something in Billie’s gaze says she knows exactly where it is.

“Oh, here,” she says.

The sound is sharp and intimate, slicing through the quiet like a whispered secret. A metallic click, clean and deliberate, breaks the stillness, followed by the soft scrape of the flint wheel turning. Then comes the bloom of the flame—a faint whoosh that carries a warmth you can almost feel. It’s steady, alive, crackling faintly as it dances in the dark, casting flickering shadows against the night. The scent of singed butane drifts into the air, sharp and chemical, grounding you in the moment. It’s such a small sound, but next to you, it feels impossibly loud, like a heartbeat outside your own.

She never indulged in your smoking habits, never shared in the way you leaned into the soft haze to escape reality. But she always carried a lighter. Always. For you. Because somehow, no matter how many times you bought one, you had a way of losing them, and she had a way of knowing.

Your heart ached at the thought. Even after everything, she still carried that lighter—still kept this tiny piece of you with her, like muscle memory she couldn’t unlearn.

She held the flame steady, her hand shielding it from the wind with practiced ease. You didn’t move, your hand hovering near her but never quite closing the gap. Instead, you watched as the fire danced, the golden glow illuminating her face in the dim light. The wind teased the flame, threatening to snuff it out, but she guarded it instinctively, her other hand cupping the lighter as if it were precious, fragile.

You couldn’t tear your eyes away, trapped in the flicker of light and shadow, as if the fire itself held some kind of spell over you. Or maybe it wasn’t the flame at all. Maybe it was her—the quiet familiarity of her gestures, the way she still did this for you, even now, even after the years and the pain.

To anyone else, it might seem like nothing. An ex lighting her ex-girlfriend’s blunt, an act so casual it hardly deserved a second thought. But to you, it was so much more. It was a thread connecting the past and the present, a bridge over the chasm of two long, lonely years.

It was intimacy. A kind you hadn’t felt in so long it almost scared you. The kind that knew your rhythms and your faults, that carried lighters for your bad habits and lit them without judgment.

Your mind screamed at you to pull away, to extinguish the fire before it burned you again. But your heart—foolish, stubborn thing that it was—ached for this moment, for this tiny act of care. So you stayed still, watching the flame dance as your heart and mind waged their quiet war. She watched and waited to see what you would do, and without thinking your body leaned forward, towards that bright ember of a flame. And when she finally lit the blunt for you, her fingers brushed yours for just a second too long, it felt less like a habit and more like a confession.

You watched as the flame stretched toward the blunt’s tip, small but fierce, its edges flickering and alive. It kisses the paper, and for a moment, it clings there, glowing brighter as it bites into the wrap. The paper darkens and crinkles, curling inward as the flame consumes it, leaving a thin line of blackened ash in its wake.

Your eyes meet hers, still in your crouched position, and for a moment, everything stills. The laughter and music fade into the background, muffled by the weight of her gaze. It’s so quiet in this bubble that it feels like you could stay here forever, wrapped in the soft, strange serenity between you.

But you don’t. You blink, the spell breaking as reality creeps back in. This moment isn’t yours to keep, no matter how much you wish it was.

A wisp of smoke rises, twisting lazily into the air, carrying with it the faint scent of burning paper and the earthy undertone of the tobacco or herb inside. The ember glows softly, pulsing like a heartbeat as it takes hold, the flame retreating once its job is done. What’s left behind is a smoldering edge, fragile and jagged, the beginnings of something that burns slow and steady.

Leaning back, you withdraw the joint from your lips, letting the smoke roll slowly from your mouth. You blow it to your right, away from her, the exhalation curling into the night air like a phantom. You’ve always been careful, always mindful, because you know how much she hated it.

You remember the first time you sparked up around her, the way the cloud drifted lazily in her direction and enveloped her. She coughed, sharp and sudden, her face twisting in discomfort as her hand shot up to wave it away. Later, she told you how it made her feel—the way the smoke clung to her throat, thick and choking, leaving a sour taste at the back of her tongue that wouldn’t go away. How it wove itself into her hair and clothes, lingering like an unwelcome ghost she couldn’t shake.

“I don’t mind you smoking,” she’d said back then, her voice soft, almost apologetic, “but just… not near me. It feels like I can’t breathe.”

Her words had stuck with you, burrowed deep into your memory, because they weren’t an attack—just honesty, delivered with that quiet gentleness she used to wield so well. Since then, you’ve been careful. Always turning your head, always blowing the smoke away, no matter where you were or how distracted you might be.

Even now, with her sitting beside you after years apart, it’s instinctive. The smoke twists and curls into the night, a hazy ribbon that never touches her. You glance at her from the corner of your eye, watching as she sits unaffected, her gaze somewhere far off, and feel the smallest tug of relief.

It’s such a small thing—redirecting the smoke, sparing her the discomfort—but it feels like an unspoken promise. A habit born out of care, out of knowing her in ways no one else did. And even after everything, you can’t seem to stop yourself from caring.

You laugh bitterly, picking back up on your conversation . “And leaving didn’t?”

She doesn’t answer. Instead, she looks at you with those ocean-deep eyes that always seemed to pull you under. “I didn’t stop thinking about you,” she says, so softly you almost don’t hear it.

And there it is. The part of you that still aches for her, that still wants to believe in her despite everything, starts to flicker back to life. But it’s just a flicker, nothing more.

“Why now, Billie?” you ask, your voice sharper than you mean it to be. You leaned your head on your right hand as its elbow rested on your knee. Spliff burning in between your middle and your index fingers as you slightly began swaying in thought. “Why come back?”

She hesitates, and for a moment, you see the storm inside her—the guilt, the hope, the fear. “Because I’m tired of pretending I don’t need you,” she says.

“So, you’re apologizing because you need something. Not because you’re genuinely sorry.”

The words leave your mouth, calm and measured, though they sting with the weight of years. You don’t look at her, not yet, but you can feel her gaze, warm and searching, on your face. You take a breath, letting the silence between you stretch. It’s the first time in a long while that you’ve allowed yourself to speak with this much clarity, this much honesty. And it feels both liberating and painful at once.

She’s silent for a moment, and when she speaks again, her voice is softer, quieter. “That’s not true. I am sorry. For everything.”

You nod slowly, processing her words. She’s sincere, you can hear it in the tremor of her voice, but that doesn’t make the past go away. The years of waiting, the nights spent wondering why she left, wondering if you were ever enough for her.

She hasn’t moved since she sat down, but the space between you feels vast now, like an ocean that neither of you can quite cross.

“But you hurt me,” you say, your voice quieter now, tinged with something raw that you haven’t let surface in so long. “I loved you, Billie. I loved you so much, and you just left me. No explanation. No call. Hell, you didn’t even leave me a damn text.”

You finally look at her. Her eyes are wide, full of regret, and for a split second, you almost forget all the reasons you’ve been angry with her. Almost. But the hurt is still there, simmering beneath the surface, and you can’t let it go. Not yet.

“I know,” she whispers, her voice breaking just slightly, the words thick with remorse. “And I am truly sorry. I’ll never stop apologizing for what I did.” Her gaze drops to her lap, and she takes a deep breath before she looks at you again, her eyes pleading. “But I love you. I do.”

I love you.

The words hang in the air, and for a moment, the world feels like it’s holding its breath. You want to respond, want to say something sharp and dismissive, to keep the walls between you up and firm. But instead you take another drag of the joint in your hand, as your heart—damned thing that it is—pounds in your chest, betraying you in the quiet of the night.

You swallow, the lump in your throat too tight to speak, and for the first time in a long while, you wonder if the distance between you could ever truly disappear.

You know what letting her back in could mean. You know the pain she’s capable of causing. But you also know the way she made you feel when things were good—the way she made you feel alive.

And as you sit there, staring at her in the glow of the streetlights, you realize you have a choice. You can let her back in and risk it all, or you can walk away and finally put her behind you.

Your heart races as you weigh the options, the silence stretching unbearably between you. And for the first time in years, you’re not sure what to do.

#billie eilish x reader #billie eilish #billie eilish fanfiction #billie eilish fic #billie eilish gf #billie eilish imagine #billie eilish x fem!reader #billie eilish x you

112 notes · View notes

mean-scarlet-deceiver · 22 hours ago

Text

Gordon and Edward, Part 3

As Lady is my witness, I will never take more than 500 words to ever answer a simple ask again 🫡 Enjoy this last hurrah of hyperlexia!

Part 1: Gordon, what's your damage? 😭 / The Doylist Reason / Rent. Free.

Post 2: Edward's Defences / Gordon's Growth

Post 3 (this post): Collision / Uh… Cleanup Crew?

Collision

Folks take Main Line Engines Edward and Gordon as a glimpse into just normal day-in-the-life stuff for them. It's not. It's the culmination of 40+ years of their shit. (From a Doylist perspective, it's also the last time Awdry would ever visit this dynamic – it's the last time any Awdry would, in a proper RWS book – and he seems to have known it.)

So, cue scene: "Wrong Road." Here we are, late evening, chilling on a couple of sidings somewhere outside Tidmouth station. The text puts this setting in a sort of void. I’d assume our heroes are taking on coal or water or something, as after this they report to the station for their trains. But that’s not for a bit yet. Right now we’re chilling. Eddie and Gordo. Great old friends.

All right, that might have been sarcastic if we were setting this scene in the ‘20s, but this is now 1964 or -65 (depending on just how rapidly you think The Author and his publishers beam these stories out there). Don’t be so cynical, dear reader. Time has passed.

This is Gordon matured. In his prime. He’s an Evolved Being these days (still capitalizes random things in his head, though). He has come to recognize that, grand and mighty though he is, relationships are important. He's been reminded of this just recently, in fact, what with his old driver retiring. (How's he doing with the transition, you ask? Wonderfully. No one copes with change better than Gordon the Big Engine. No one!) And so he’s going to make an effort here to find something to chat about with Edward. Even if Edward is kind of a queer old fellow, one of his tougher relationships. They don’t often see eye-to-eye on things, you see. But Evolved Being Gordon values his relationships, so, goddammit, he puts himself out there. Truly, he has a certain respect for Edward for never being drawn into Gordon’s lead on things. Like, it’s irritating – very – but Gordon can acknowledge that this is because, in his own way, Edward is something sort of like a leader, and indeed on occasion Gordon has had cause to admit to himself, after the fact, that Edward may have been right. Once. Or even twice. Anyway, their differences make things tricky and a bit distant, but Gordon still values the relationship. Enough to make an effort.

And! Tonight, he has a commonality for them to bond over. Something that’s been bugging the hell out of him and that surely must be worrying Edward, too.

"It's not fair," grumbled Gordon. "What isn't fair?" asked Edward. "Letting Branch Line diesels pull Main Line trains."

Coz diesels, amirite?

I cannot emphasize enough that Gordon makes this conversational gambit in good faith. He knows that Edward has had insecurities about being replaced before. Edward’s been dealing with The Fat Controller letting this diesel lurk around on his Branch Line for some while. And now Gordon and the others are facing the same threat! Gordon can genuinely carp to Edward about this and fully expect sympathy! Then after that Gordon can offer sympathy, too! They have a common interest, huzzah!

Gordon is sure that tonight he is getting a good grade in Friendship.

Then -

"Never mind, Gordon. I'm sure BoCo will let you pull his trucks sometimes. That would make it quite fair."

Needle scratch.

From Gordon’s perspective: WTF just happened here? Edward’s… Edward’s teasing him, isn’t he?

Now, look. Part of Gordon’s maturation is that he has accepted that he is part of the great karmic circle of life. Some days you’re the champ, and some days you take the L and just have to graciously accept that everyone else is gonna enjoy their victory laps. He’s used to this. He can handle it with good grace, indeed.

However:

1) Is that… is that what’s going on? IS Edward zinging him? Gordon’s pretty sure. He’s familiar with the experience ("never trust domeless engines! teehee"). But Edward does like to take his shots with an angelically serious face, which Gordon always finds confusing and a bit annoying. No one else bothers to disguise it when they’re laughing at him, and Gordon has learned to take it well (well, take it without melting down). But he does wish Edward would be more direct about it. Because… is that what’s going on here??

2) And, if it is… WHY? What the hell just happened? You tease someone after they fucked up and you’ve won this round. Did something just happen in the time it took Gordon to blink? What was the round? How did Gordon fuck up? They were having a perfectly amiable conversation like one bloody second ago! Garrrrgh.

(This is the whole problem with Edward, Gordon harrumps to himself. What is ‘this’, you ask? Well, if Gordon could explain it, it wouldn’t be such a problem now would it!)

Well, where he went wrong is utterly baffling to Gordon. But it’s clear as day to Edward, and pretty obvious to everyone he tells (and he seems to manage to relate this story to at least some parties within an extraordinarily short window of time…) The others may only tease when they’re in a position of strength. Edward’s playful teasing is not necessarily a sign that he’s comfortable; it’s a defense mechanism. When Edward is comfortable and relaxed with other engines, he tends to be practical-minded (job swap time!) and/or very much 100% in earnest (“I was pleased to hear your happy whistle yesterday”). Teasing is something he resorts to in order to find or restore equilibrium. So he’s not trying to signal that he’s “won” anything, but he is trying to win the exchange and turn the tables on Gordon in a moment when Gordon’s superior, dismissive attitude towards an engine rubs Edward the wrong way. Gordon thinks Edward will relate to him; they’re both steam engines who go way back, after all. Instead Edward instinctively relates to whatever engine Gordon is talking down. He probably would even if he hadn’t already made friends with BoCo - and he has. (This is another thing Gordon can’t fathom. Edward’s intuition lets him find and form friendships way faster than Gordon can comprehend warming up to anyone. To Gordon this feels like disloyalty.)

So Edward’s already lowkey annoyed - ‘Oh, Gordon’s being Gordon again’ - even as Gordon unconsciously stomps on the old, old wound that Edward still carries from the far past when Gordon would talk down him. Gordon doesn’t do that to him these days, but he’s still out here doing it to other engines and Edward dislikes it. A lot.

But, because it is Gordon and Edward just isn’t comfortable enough to communicate with him in any sort of straightforward way, Edward once again pretends not to be bothered - even as he deliberately turns the tables on Gordon, playfully suggesting something he knows Gordon will hate as a fair solution to the problem.

Winding Gordon up is so much easier and safer than, like, actually communicating with him.

And so Edward does. He knows that when he pulls this sort of passive-aggressive move that it leaves Gordon pleasingly unsettled.

What Edward may not understand is that Gordon really is genuinely out of his depth. It’s not clear to Gordon whether Edward is joking or not - and, unfortunately, wherever this notion appeared from, The Fat Controller does tend to call things Edward’s way so the fact that Edward has a bright idea really could imply that it’s going to become reality in a bafflingly brief amount of time.

At any rate, Gordon deals with what seems to him this sucker punch out of nowhere by resorting to his old well-worn defense mechanism - his superiority complex. To soothe his confusion and his own hurt feelings (why is Edward laughing at him? how did Gordon just lose a game that he didn’t even know he was playing? what in Gresley’s name is Edward all the sudden trying to PUNISH him for?) Gordon grabs and flaunts his superior importance and breeding as a trump card:

Gordon spluttered furiously. "I won't pull BoCo's dirty trucks. I won't run on Branch Lines."

(Gordon needs the comfort of this sort of boast, maybe needs to say it to convince himself.)

"Why not? It would be a nice change." "The Fat Controller would never approve," said Gordon loftily. "Branch Lines are vulgar." He puffed away in a dignified manner. Edward chuckled and followed him to the station…

Of course, the fact that Gordon instantly needs to resort to boasting and putting Edward down (ho-hum; anyone here have a branch line?) only confirms to Edward that he’s always been right not to put much trust in this new amiability between them. To Edward’s eye, he barely had to tap on it before it shattered. From Gordon’s point of view, Edward just did a lot more than tap on it - stomped on it rather. Still, it’s incredibly fair to my eye for Edward to conclude that he was right not to think Gordon’s latter-day changes run very deep, and to keep up his ‘laugh and pretend not to care’ tactic even as the scene closes.

It’s completely fair. Still, Gordon, I’m sure, never gave this baffling exchange a second thought after he left the platform that evening with his train (for the first time). As far as Gordon is concerned, Edward scored one off on him SOMEHOW, Gordon harrumphed and did a little tit for tat which is his goddamn right, and perhaps they both could have been a little more mature about it but at any rate that’s over.

It was dark by the time the trains reached the Junction, and you can guess what happened – Edward went through on the Main, while Gordon was switched to the Branch… It took The Fat Controller several hours to sort out the tangle and pacify the passengers. In the end Gordon was left, with his fire drawn, cold and cross on one of Edward's sidings[...] "No, Bill, this lot's useless for scrap. We'll take it to the harbour and dump it in the sea." Gordon was alarmed. "I am Gordon. Stop! Stop!" The twins paid no attention. Gordon shut his eyes and prepared for the worst[...]

After an absolutely terrible night and, somehow, a more terrible morning with what Gordon (not autistic at all btw!) sincerely regards as a genuine attempt on his life…

Edward scolded the twins severely, but told Gordon it served him right. Gordon was furious.

… Gordon encounters Edward again the next day only to be told that his whole harrowing experience, complete with the disrespect and the death threats from Edward’s own weird little industrial twin terrorists, ‘served him right.’

Gordon:

WHAT??????

Gordon thinks that, at most, he got a little shirty the night before but that Edward literally started it.

Edward, however, is taking a cool account of every sin Gordon has ever committed, up to and including Gordon being a drama queen about this whole ‘dump him in the sea’ business (I’m sure Edward could fathom taking the china clay twins seriously if he tried - if this were Duck coming to him with this complaint I’m sure Edward could make that leap of imagination - but this is Gordon. Edward doesn’t regard the twins as all that challenging and he’s not about to make an effort right now to understand the troubles of Gordon, who just last night had turned back the clock some thirty years in order to directly insult his branch line out of nowhere.)

Basically: All the sudden, their old truce is in tatters. Both think that it’s the other’s fault – Edward reckons Gordon’s just proved it never meant much, while Gordon thinks Edward just spat on all his efforts for no reason at all that he can see.

I am sympathetic to Gordon’s bafflement up to this point - I understand why Edward is blowing hot and cold like this, and I think he has a right to, but this hostile confusion and mutual pain was always going to be the inevitable result, sooner or later.

But Gordon loses my sympathy real fast when he reacts to this development by… partying like it’s Vicarstown 1922:

(Note of course that while Henry and James gave Gordon an opening, their remarks were far more neutral – Gordon takes the opportunity to tank the entire vibe:)

"Did you see him straining?" asked Henry. "Positively painful," remarked James. "Just pathetic," grunted Gordon. "He should give up and be Preserved before it's too late." "Shut up!" burst out Duck.

Okay, yep. I am vividly reminded why kind little Edward, once-upon-a-time a very straightforward and transparent character, had to go and develop this entire fucky points-scoring communication style to begin with.

But my proposal here is that this blow-up represents an aberration from their postwar relationship. They seemed to have moved on. They had at least 15 years of relative peace. The above scene represents something of a surprise twist (appropriate for a finale): Nah, they never did patch things up! They’re as fucked up as ever!

Now, the previous paragraph was a place where I think that I am actually reading in concert with what Awdry’s writing. I do think he intended that as a bit of a twist. I think “Edward’s Exploit” is in a way meant to be a callback to those days, a deliberate “Edward’s Day Out/Edward and Gordon Part 2: Electric Boogaloo.”

This whole book is, I think, meant to be a new as well as a final word on Edward’s character development. Hence, he shows us an Edward who throughout the book displays a new level of assuredness. We see his dynamic with Bill and Ben, introduced here for the first time. We’re shown that, far from fading away, he’s fast becoming besties with one of those newfangled diesels. And - well, you couldn’t really crown Edward’s character development without revisiting the Gordon dynamic, now could you? “Wrong Road” shows us the playful, teasing, never-fear-these-days-I-can-handle-Gordon-with-a-smile Edward we already met for the first time in “Cows,” but then for this go-’round Awdry takes it one step further: Edward no longer has to couch his disapproval of Gordon’s attitude indirectly, but can assert himself in a direct conflict. Edward’s never canonically scolded anyone before, but now we see he’s able to manage both titchy little saddletanks and Gordon Himself. The next time someone says Edward is a static character, I swear to Lady I am going to chuck this book at their head. That was a very deliberate character arc. And I love it! Lookit my sweet boy crack some skulls! Awesome!

… it is, however, very depressing to me that we had to explode the apparent Edward+Gordon truce in order to achieve this.

Mind you, Awdry thinks he resolved that conflict by the end of “Exploit.” I cannot emphasize this enough. Yes, Gordon reverted to his old tricks when Edward leveled up and told him off – but by the end of the story Edward’s wildly popular exploit has shut him up, so yay! It’s all good! 👍 👍

…

Oh, wait? You don’t think it’s so good? You feel like maybe you could use a bit more, before you felt like these two were on new and solider-than-ever ground? Like maybe this relationship needs a bit more than Gordon merely shutting up? Like you’d wish it to be deeper than Gordon apparently resigning himself to the fact that Edward is Always Fuckin’ Right, and Edward Always Fuckin’ Wins? Like maybe we haven’t really addressed the underlying problem here at all, maybe jealousy and pique and hierarchy was always their obstacle from Day 1? And so they can never compete their way out of this mess?

Yeah, weird. I feel like that too, somehow.

However, this is what canon gives us. We can add some more to it, sure. But I do think it’s worth just… sitting with this for a while. Processing things. These are two characters who are flawed but who have such great qualities, as well, and there are these obvious points of connection and potential understanding, and you just feel like this could be a much richer relationship, instead of merely a decades-long tug-of-war. I mean, we go on to see it with Gordon and BoCo. (All right, obviously I’ll never admit BoCo is ‘just a diesel Edward.’ But for purposes of this particular essay, I’ll just say that… he’s not not a diesel Edward, y’know? They’re certainly goddamn similar enough that it’s incredible how close Gordon becomes with one of them and how, despite so much time and opportunity, he will forever be held at arms’-length with the other.) That relationship seems like one of genuine mutual support. Indeed the other remarkable thing that goes down in "Wrong Road" is that for once Gordon not only connects to someone without relying on the "benevolent patron" role, but indeed that he is the one who needs help – but he actually responds to it well and, instead of condescending to BoCo, he shows respect. And it seems so obvious that Gordon and Edward’s could have been like that too, but instead they’ve spent so long bothering each other despite a fair amount of good intention on each side.

That’s how it goes sometimes, I guess.

But hey, you know what. Maybe their relationship improved later, off-screen. Like maybe it had some space to breathe once The Author stopped poking around and fuckin’ writing about it.

I’ve heard of wilder things.

Uh, Cleanup Crew?

"All three engines are now great friends."

I think this famous conclusion is true – at least, it was true in 1945, at the height of their optimism and unity. However the tension in the Gordon-Edward leg of this triangle, seen from the beginning of canon, only ever gets worse.

Honestly, the notorious TTRE stuff doesn’t strike me as all that bad. I read TTRE and I’m actually like, yeah sure, I can see how these two would move on to become friends. Honestly I can see it at the end of TTRE a lot more easily for Gordon and Edward than for Gordon and Henry - I feel like Gordon’s actually been a lot worse to Henry. Most of the red flags in this relationship – the aggressive ostracizing of Troublesome Engines and Edward’s backbiting and Taking Control of the Narrative – come later! And look, Gordon and Henry have their rough patches too. Henry the Green Engine is a terrible low point, Gordon was a flaming dumpster fire in his whistle story. But it’s also clear that Gordon and Henry do a lot of relationship repair, off-screen. We see continually how joined at the hip they are, we see them genuinely enjoying each other’s company, and it makes sense because we know they have interests and personality traits in common.

In contrast, even though Gordon and Edward’s relationship seems more recoverable in theory, in practice nearly every interaction between them ranges from uncomfortable to actively hostile. There is never any repair, there’s only ever Edward managing to keep Gordon in check, and when you are constantly playing defense you might be able to make some sort of old working relationship creak and clatter on but you are never really getting close to each other either. If Henry needed an apology from Gordon, and I expect he did, then Henry spoke up and he got one. Edward is tougher than Henry, more independent. Which is good for him but one result from never moaning or complaining to Gordon about Gordon’s past offenses is that Gordon, oblivious and proud, is never going to take responsibility or make amends for them. Usually in real life I’d just be like 'good riddance!’ but this is fiction, lol, and despite this one major flaw Gordon truly is so valuable as a friend. But there’s no evidence to me that he ever really became one for Edward. Edward doesn’t hate him, I think sheer necessity and his capacity to understand others makes him genuinely fond of Gordon. But he doesn’t trust him, and because he doesn’t trust him he provokes Gordon to forever give him fresh reason to not trust him, and because of this no matter how well they can work together or chit chat this never becomes a mutually supportive relationship and, like… that’s sad. That’s real sad. By the end of TTRE I’m like ‘aww, this friendship could be cute.’ By the end of MLE I’m like ‘Family counseling, stat. Or just communicate solely through intermediaries for the rest of your life, that could work too.’

But Jobey. I don’t accept this. I imagine them as genuine friends and/or I straight-up ship them and LA LA LAAA I can’t heeeear youuuu.

You’re perfectly welcome to do so, lol. I'd like to take a sad song and make it better, too.

The one fortunate thing is that, after Main Line Engines, there is plenty of blank space where anyone can continue or add to the 2+4 story. I think one can plausibly fill in a happy ending. Gordon still has some character development after MLE. Edward doesn't, but I think he ought, and I can see a couple areas where he could. To make a happy ending for this dynamic convincing three things still do have to click into place. In no particular order:

The narrative actually has to validate the good parts of Gordon's ethos (not the selfish parts - but the subversive/rebellious/engine autonomy parts) as a necessary complement to Edward's ethos.

Edward has to be willing to let himself be vulnerable in front of Gordon.

Gordon needs to need Edward's help and then actually express gratitude afterwards.

Shouldn't be too tough, honestly! The first has to be done by we the transformative-work fans; canon never did and never could. The third is especially easy because we do finally see Gordon doing this in Main Line Engines and again in his second book, High Speed Engine – it's just that both times it's with BoCo, lmao. Gordon's there. Gordon's ready. He just needs a plot point opportunity. To be honest the second is going to be the toughest nut to crack. Again, Edward is not shown to develop after MLE. For this dynamic, he's gonna have to. Just a smidge more. Unlike TVS, I don't think "Gordon is humbled" is going to be enough of a wandwave to make this right. I'm not interested in blame, I'm interested in them finding a groove that works for them. A relationship that doesn't need to make either of them smaller for it to work.

And it should be possible, to somehow get those boxes checked. Some factors are already very much in their favor:

The Author is no longer sticking a mic in their smokeboxes and publishing the shit they say about each other every few years.

We saw them have normal, comfortable interactions in 1952. We already know a level of mutual trust is possible.

Presumably more and more engines are coming to Sodor, making this older bond rarer and more important to them.

They're good friends with each other's friends.

Gordon's growth clearly takes some cues from Edward's example. Their outlooks are converging, not diverging.

(If we need to wait this long for something to facilitate this) Gordon getting knocked off the express in 2011 radically changed his lifestyle.

So, I don't feel too despairing about this relationship. Hell, I kind of like to imagine that by the time the century turns they're able to laugh together and even mutually pitch caricatures of their old relationship missteps to the new writers lol.

And their proposed smoothing-out and reconnection would have big thematic resonance. The early conflicts in canon often had to do with the Edward ethos and the Gordon ethos. Part of the reason those conflicts taper off is because both the characters mature, of course. But part of the reason is just that the external circumstances change. The world whole environment of the NWR changes, and when it does these two ethos are incorporated into a whole. They begin to merge and complement each other. Indeed, arguably a lot of the success of the railway's culture is because everyone figures out a way embrace both. Innit? I think so. And if you buy that interpretation (Awdry didn't, lol, but what does he know?) then this long and winding 2+4 road actually ends up as a very nice story. Best story never written, perhaps.

But, for all the promising signs for the post-MLE era, I would still love to see more fan content within the original RWS canon timeline that represents the high degree of textual tension between them (and uniquely between them) from the 1920s to the 1960s. It's messy as hell, I hate the discomfort and would-you-two-dumbasses-just-COMMUNICATE of it sooo much, at the same time it's extremely compelling. Very good food. Even if things have improved, I hope they're still sometimes Problematic and Passive-Aggressive. I hope newbies are occasionally stuck with them in the sheds when they trip over a sensitive old topic and these two oldies don't even look at each other but the temperature still drops like a falling snowcap and the most oblivious of the newbies is like "Uhh, guys? ? ? Real weird vibe in here!"

And Henry and BoCo just look fuckin' exhausted, lmaoo.

#and james is just like 'uhhhh lol yeah it's coz these two are idiots🙄'#long post #ttte #the railway series #ttte edward #ttte gordon #ttte analysis #tl;dr: they offer different kinds of leadership and this puts them more seriously at odds than many of the other pairings #2+4 #4+d2 #3+4 #'SERVES YOU RIGHT' is a staple of this whole series of course #but it is also. very much. Them.#*whispers* (also gordon and duck but that's a different ask!) */w*#till next time #thanks for reading

61 notes · View notes

toasts-httyd-hyperfixation · 20 hours ago

Text

To answer your question, we don't know exactly how old they were when they got married

Also, its a good point about her being pregnant, and it's definitely something that you can use to have the timeline and ages make sense and be more accurate, but there are a few things

One, them announcing they're trying for a child is irrelevant because that's expected of them the moment they get married, like producing an heir, thats part of their job, they're supposed to be doing that

Two, its not inherently true that Hiccup would be considered heir as soon as he was conceived

There are places and times where that was the case with heirs, but babies weren't typically considered heir until they were born (hence the term 'firstborn' often being used) because obviously, something could happen and cause that baby not to be born, that baby might not be considered legitimate, and, regardless of your opinion on whether a fetus is a full person or not, historically, a lot of places did not consider fetuses people until they have been born, and in some cases, until they've been Confirmed

And we don't know when a baby is considered Officially the Heir in universe, but we do know A: pregnancies and life in general was dangerous for them, so there's no guarantee that the baby will even be born and B: the babies could also be a runt and therefore have to be put to death

So in my opinion, the most likely time that Hiccup was declared heir was After he had been taken to the Naming Dame, when everything is all clear and he's (supposedly) legitimized

And even if it is from conception, I don't know that the amount of time for a pregnancy strictly gives enough time for the ages to quite fit

Because pregnancies don't last multiple years, and say it was that they announced Valhallarama was pregnant when Snotlout was 3 almost 4, lets be real here, Hiccup was probably a premie so like 8ish months, that still only gets him to 4 years older

And that's assuming they know Val is pregnant from the moment he's conceived, which, you cannot know you're pregnant right away, and Vikings didn't have accurate pregnancy tests, so either they're going based off Vague Inaccurate Prediction ( which, not unlikely) or they're not really gonna know until she starts showing symptoms, and that could be anywhere from a week to over a month or more

In which case, they wouldn't be announcing it right away, there would be additional time cut out of this, so there's still not quite enough time to span the 3- possibly 6 years

So like, yes, the gestation period could have an affect, but since this was all based on the fact that in the book Snotlout specifically refers to Hiccup being Born, and then taking everything else into consideration, in my opinion, it probably isn't relevant

But regardless, yeah, it is definitely something you could use to make the ages all fit a little bit better

And just to be clear, I, obviously, am not an expert on any of this stuff, this is all based on what I came across while doing a little research into inheritance laws, so anyone who sees this, feel free to correct me if I got anything wrong or if you have anything to add

I realise none of this is probably really relevant to my original point in this set of posts, but I enjoy doing random research for funsies and I have a need to explore various concepts so, yeah 👍

Love that with the way its set up, Snotlout is anwhere from barely 3 to almost 5 years older than Hiccup

#if you wanna take gestational period into consideration you also have to consider historical fetal and inheritance laws 🫵🫵#which we dont seem to have a lot when it comes to Norse Culture but #looking at other places at the time and how living babies were treated #I can attempt a guess lol #Whether that guess is correct or not Who Knows! but anyways

201 notes · View notes

slushycoookie · 17 hours ago

Text

Between Two Worlds ~ Miguel O'Hara x Stripper! Reader (Pt.6)

★ Word Count: 5.9k

★ Content: You meet Miguel's family and friends! Black Cat shows up again (yeah, she's getting a warning now). Miguel meets your mom. A LOT of comparisons to Dana. You two have a fun road trip.

★ A/N: Heyyyy, I'm breaking my hiatus to post this! I'm not officially back back yet though. I'm kinda enjoying not being on tumblr as much. Obviously, I'm still writing though, so I hope you guys enjoy! I also made some changes, some retcons because it was bothering me. Nothing major though, so it shouldn't affect the story.

⁺˚⋆｡°✩Prev | Next ✩°｡⋆˚⁺ Masterlist | Commissions

The roaring noises of The Weave become second nature to Miguel.

The strobing lights and smoke that clings to the ceiling. Dancers grabbing their customers and leading them to a sit to get a show. Bits of confetti mixed with dollar bills on the floor.

If this was his first time in the club, he'd easily become overstimulated. Now, he's easily leading the rest of the group to the bar.

Xina covers her ears while following him as Gabriel and Kasey simultaneously let out a shriek.

“I can see why this club is popular!” Gabriel clasps Miguel’s shoulder. “Everyone is getting turned up!”

“At eight pm on a Tuesday…” Xina mutters.

“There’s usually a good turn out on Tuesdays.”

Miguel knows. Your dance draws in a crowd every time. You tell him that Tuesdays are the days where you make the most amount of money.

“Good thing I called out tomorrow.” Kasey hooks her arm around Xina, taking the lead. The men follow, Gabriel hooping at the upbeat music while Miguel's eyes scan the area.

He doesn't see you yet. You were nervous during the build up of meeting his friends and family, wondering which one of your glittery outfits is presentable for them. You didn’t want to go too far out, not wanting to scar Xina, but didn't want to lean towards too modest as you had your headliner dance.

Miguel tried to convince you not to worry about it, that anything you wear would be okay.

“Science Guy!” Ben greets, glancing at the fresh faces, “Who has new friends. I always knew you were a social butterfly.”

He shakes his head, “Ben, this is my brother, Gabriel, his girlfriend, Kasey, and my best friend, Xina.”

“Oh shit, I didn't know it was ‘Family Night’ at The Weave.”

“Since when have we ever had family night?” Pixie joins in, nursing a water. Her top catching anyone's eye as it symbolizes fairy wings. If she's here, that means you're nearby.

“We had family night last year where Mj bought in Peter.”

“That was couples night, babe.”

“Oh.”

“It's nice to meet you!” Xina greets loudly, causing everyone at the bar to turn towards her.

“Xi, the music is not that loud.” Kasey reassures with a squeeze on her arm.

Pixie snorts, her eyes tracing Xina up and down, “It was cute though.”

She darts away from Pixie's gaze, face turning red. Miguel steps over to her, his eyes silently asking where are you. Pixie's reassuring look tries to help but it doesn't.

“This is Pixie. She's one of the dancers.”

“Ooh like the pixie haircut?” Gabriel motions around his head.

“That and I like mythical creatures. Like pixies. ” She explains. Miguel tries not to look surprised at your friend willingly telling information to people she just met.

“Pixies are cool.” Xina adds in, fiddling with her white blouse. Pixie only gives her a smile.

“Alright, who wants drinks?” Ben starts taking drink orders.

Miguel’s considering getting one himself since he doesn't see you yet. He wonders if you decided to back out of the meet and greet and not tell him. Did he rush into this? Were you not ready to meet the people he's close to?

He just settles on a water, continuing to scan the area.

“So, you two are dating, right?” Ben asks Gabriel and Kasey.

“Yeah! Going for four years, right?”

Kasey nods after a long sip of her margarita, “That’s right.”

“And uh, you're cool with your boyfriend getting a lap dance?” Ben motions in front of him.

“I'm planning to get one.” She shrugs, “So it's okay if he does too.”

“Nice, nice.”

Gabriel and Kasey’s relationship held it’s ground ever since they first met in college. Being the older brother that Miguel is, he did get worried when they moved in together after eight months of dating. Their relationship lasting five years later was reasonable proof that they were going to last.

“What about you?” Ben asks Xina, who’s been nursing a shirley temple. “Looking to stuff some money in someone’s bra?”

“Oh, no thank you.” She frowns while shaking her head.

“Why not?” Pixie asks, beating Ben to the punch.

“I’d feel…awkward.”

“We don’t bite, babe.”

“Except for Black Cat. I’d steer clear from her.”

Miguel lights up seeing you walk up the bar. The tool from your two piece outfit glimmering under the club lights. A burgundy color that’s still easy on the eyes despite being surrounded by rhinestones. The curls from your high ponytail cascading down your shoulders. You’re beautiful. Miguel swallows the word from the tip of his tongue.

“Finally, you stopped fretting over your hair.” Pixie traces her fingers through your strands to also make sure it’s on point.

“I have guests.”

Kasey squeals, getting up from her seat to hug you. Her slightly chiseled arms enclosing around your frame perfectly.

“I can’t believe I finally get to meet you! Miguel can finally stop hiding you from us.”

“I wasn’t hiding her…” He mutters.

“I’m glad I get to meet you all too. It was time.”

Miguel notices Gabriel’s hands itching to hug her, but the former warned him of not suddenly grabbing the dancers unless he wanted to get kicked out. Kaine is working today and Miguel knows he can be very rough. You open your arms wide for him though and Gabriel giddily hugs you. The action being very brief.

With Xina, you stuck out your hand, knowing a hug was probably too personal for her. She gladly took it, trying not to make the exchange more awkward then it had to be.

“Why are we all chilling at the bar?” You look around, “Thought you guys came in here to have fun.”

“Oh I did.” Kasey says, “I want my first dance to be from an expert.” She wraps her arms around your own.

“Anything for my regular's friends.” You wink at Miguel who smiles against his glass.

You call up Emma, a dancer who comes in occasionally. Her white one piece made her easy to spot anywhere in the club. She does a finger wave along the crowd.

“I have a couple here so I thought it’d be best to do a duo.”

Emma’s blue eyes light up, “I’m down.”

You motion Gabriel and Kasey over, smiling at their excitement.

“Behave yourself.” Xina drones while swirling her drink with a straw.

Miguel leans against the bar, “Are you sure you don’t want to go out there?”

“I’m sure.”

He glances at you and you shrug, leading his brother and girlfriend to a better spot. Miguel wasn’t surprised at his best friend’s behavior. Xina’s prone to sticking to a corner of the wall at a party, red cup in hand while she watches everyone else enjoy themselves. He does it occasionally, but hoped that his friend would try tonight.

“You know, I’m going to force you.”

“Then don’t.” Xina slurps her drink, “I’m fine right here.”

“How old are you again?”

“Don’t you start with me.”

“I’m just wondering…”

“She doesn’t have to see a dancer if she doesn’t want to.” Pixie cuts in, now on the other end, stretching her limbs. Her outfit is easier to see now, with the short, matching green skirt and heels catching the club lights. “Although, that does defeat the purpose of going to a strip club.”

Xina scoffs, “Your friend invited me here.”

“I know.” The trail Pixie’s eyes drags along Xina’s frame is addicting. Slow and deliberate. “Like I said, you don’t have to. But…I thought you liked pixies.”

The blush on Xina’s face is apparent when she sighs. She places a ten dollar bill on the bar before taking Pixie’s hand. Miguel gives a thumbs up when his friend looks back. When they disappear into one of the rooms, he relaxes his shoulders. He wants everyone to have a good time and have a better reception to you.

Ben happily grabs another drink for Miguel, placing the soda down. “You know, I’ve never seen a regular drag his family and friends to meet a stripper.”

“I have nothing to hide.” Miguel admits. “A strip club is like any other establishment.”

Plus, you and him were still trying to keep your relationship secret. Even with Jess now knowing, you were adamant on not telling the entire club your business.

“Yeah filled with half naked dancers and alcohol. I think the deli across the street does something similar on the weekends.”

They share a laugh. The tenseness in Miguel’s body slowly fading away.

“Seriously though, it’s a cool mindset to have. I wish everyone had what you think, Science Guy.”

He blinks, remembering your surprise at his openness. “I just…think that way.”

“Smart, cute, and open minded. Who could ask for a better man?”

A strong, spicy fragrance hits his nostrils. That signature white hair makes its appearance when Black Cat appears beside him at the bar. Her bare arm touching his own. Everything about her appearance is striking, the black bikini while still wearing platform heels to make her tall. The white hair covers her shoulders and back. Miguel ignores the slightly uncomfortable atmosphere.

Ben shakes his head at her appearance, “You need anything?”

“A shot of vodka.”

As he prepares the shot, Miguel tries to focus on his drink. Your words in his head warning him not to talk to the popular cat. Or else you’d lose him too. Since you revealed that she steals your regulars.

That wasn’t going to happen.

Black Cat faces him and quickly downs the shot. Any traces of liquor, she wipes it away with a flicker of her fingertips. While her piercing, silver eyes stare into his soul. Miguel wants to look for you, have you come to his rescue again.

“Why are you all alone?”

“J-Just waiting for some friends.”

She tsks before pouting. “No Silk this time?”

“She’s doing a dance for someone else.”

“Ah…” Her hand rests on the bar. Black, polished nails match her attire. “You look so lonely sitting here.”

“Oh no, no I’m okay.”

“You sure? Being in a club like this all alone can spell all kinds of trouble.” As she speaks, her fingertips slowly inch towards his hand. The scrap of her nail causes him to jolt, placing his hand on his lap.

Of course she notices.

“You’re so adorable. It’s like you’re scared of me.”

“I’m not…”

“You should be.” Ben peeks back in, “You should see that time she scratched the fuck out of that guy last year. I heard he was so close to losing his eye because to her.”

“Ben.” Black Cat glares and he puts his hands up.

“What? It’s true-”

“Don’t you have bartending to do?”

“I’m doing it, kitty cat.”

She rolls her eyes when he flashes her a smile before focusing her attention back on Miguel. He hopes that Ben stayed nearby longer, but he was called away once more.

Black Cat didn’t stop with her advances, scooting closer to him. Her scent is giving him a headache.

“You wanna know why everyone favors me the most?”

“Sure…”

She leans forward, lips grazing his ear. Miguel’s entire body stiffens at the contact. “Because I have the best pussy in the entire club.”

When she parts, her eyes are lowered, locked on him like a predator. Ready to eat. Miguel needs you here.

“I-I see.”

“If you want to see for yourself, all you have to do is ask…” She runs a hand along his back, finally walking away. Miguel turns around in his chair, eyes searching the club for you. Among the sea of lap dances, money flying across the room, you’re walking back with an ecstatic Gabriel and Kasey in tow.

They practically bum rush him at the bar, shouting with excitement.

“I can see why you picked her.” Kasey nudges his ribs.

“I think I threw almost two hundred on the floor.” Gabriel starts counting his fingers.

“Oh I blew four I’m sure.”

You snicker, “I’ll let you know when I count it.”

Miguel's relieved to see you when he abruptly stands. It catches you by surprise, causing you to stumble.

“Can I talk to you?”

“Uh, yeah sure.”

You wave at the two and lead him into your usual private room. The door is hardly closed when Miguel is on you, strong arms pulling you close to his chest.

“Wait, Miguel! My makeup!”

He quickly parts, doing a quick inspection to see if he did some real damage. Thank goodness it wasn’t bad. Just hints of your concealer and lipstick on his shirt. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay. You missed me that bad?”

“Yes.”

You snort at his quickness, “I missed you too, but we can’t get too crazy. I got my dance in a few.”

“Okay.”

Miguel embraced you, a quick kiss turning into a careful make out session. His hands digging into the tool of your outfit, breathing in that sweet scent he’s familiar with, blocking out Black Cat’s smell. You show him you miss him just as much when you find his shirt to tug on it. Obviously wanting to take it off but not able to.

“I'm surprised you couldn't wait until Thursday.” You say against his lips, playing with his shirt. “You know where we have forty five minutes instead of the usual thirty.”

The way you accentuate forty five makes the blood rush to his cheeks. You still couldn’t believe that he lied to Jess in order to get more time with you at the club.

“I just needed you.”

“Aww, baby.”

Miguel didn’t want to bring up his interaction with Black Cat. You'd end up distracted and upset at the words she said to him, ergo affecting your performance on stage. He'd just tell you later.

“While you're here,” Your face turns sour. “my mom wants to meet you.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah. I told her about going to the banquet with you and she told me she wasn't comfortable with me going anywhere until she meets you. You could kill me at the hotel or something.”

You let out a short laugh while his stomach churns.

“I'm not going to kill you.”

“You sure about that?” The concern on his face got worse and amuses you more. He relaxes when your lips press against his cheek. “I'm joking. I know you wouldn't. But we need to put my mom at ease.”

“I'm okay with whatever. I want to ease your mom too.” Miguel moves to kiss your head, but hesitates. Instead, he holds your hand and kisses along your knuckles, not wanting to ruin your makeup even more.

“You're sweet.” One last kiss to his lips and you had to go back out. “I'll text you about it later.”

He follows you out and rejoins his family in the crowd. Xina is back, face fully red. Miguel wants to pry into what happened with Pixie when she wasn’t anywhere to be found. But the hype from the crowd at the start of your performance pulls him away.

Miguel locks on to your body pressed along the pole, highlighting your breasts. A ripple amongst your thighs as you spin, feet high in the air and catching the stage lights. The shimmer from your outfit fills the dark crowd. Screams and shouts covering the wide space. Kasey and Gabriel holler the entire time while Xina simply watches. There’s no hint of disinterest in her face, which Miguel can take as a good sign.

The DJ, Lyla, hypes the crowd up into throwing more money in your vicinity. A cascade of dollar bills coats the stage and you submerge yourself in it. A mirage of green replacing your skin.

Miguel’s heartbeat can be heard if the music wasn’t loud. How you soak up the crowd’s applause is admirable. He catches your smile and your eyes when you finish. Everything about you is so attractive. So sexy. He loves that he’s the only that has you. No one can take that away.

“She’s cool.” Xina says. That small bit of approval pulls her into a hug filled with gratitude.

“I told you that you’d like her.”

“Yeah, yeah.” She pulls away from him, faking disgust at his affection. “Just…be careful. I don’t want to see you hurt again.”

Miguel wants to be careful.

Dana causing irreputable damage to his heart wasn’t in his bingo card for the year. What he has with you right now though, he wants to enjoy it. Hoping to whatever god out there that you won’t do the same to him.

It’s why he’s so nervous about the shareholders banquet.

He’s never expressed that to you in his words. The excessive planning and booking gave it away.

This would be the first time you two took a trip together. Heck, even spending the night with one another. Sleeping in the same bed. Your body an inch away from his. For an entire weekend.

It's why he was doing double, triple checks on everything. Making sure his gps was all set. The hotel booking being to your liking. He wonders if he should change up rooms. Maybe you’d want a private room to yourself. You do value your privacy.

When he brought that up to you though, he’s awarded with a frown that made him feel small. Right in the middle of the produce aisle at the grocery store a few days later.

“Now, why would we get separate rooms?”

“I want to make sure you’re comfortable.”

“I will be. With you.”

“What if he’s not comfortable? Did you ever think about that?” Your mom questions, putting a bag of onions in the cart.

Miguel shyly pushes up his frames when you suck your teeth, “Are you uncomfortable? I don’t have to go if you’re not-”

“I want you to go.” He doesn’t miss the small smirk your mother makes at his lack of hesitation. “I’m not uncomfortable. Your comfort is my top priority.”

“And so is yours.” Your mom observes a huge watermelon in the box and Miguel is already there. She does a ritual of wrapping her knuckles against it, before taking a small whiff. With her approval, he picks up the fruit, settling it gently in the cart.

“Thank you, baby.”

You shoot a thumbs up towards him when your mom turns her back. Who knew a way of impressing your mother is by tagging along grocery shopping? Your text about it happening didn't shock him. He meant what he said about putting your mother at ease.

With the planning of the trip, grocery shopping can relax Miguel’s running mind. But his feelings are too important not to share.

“I just…” He stops when your mom is checking out bread, “I’m…nervous.”

Your brows raise, “Why? What about?”

A million things. Presenting at the banquet. Seeing Dana and Tyler. Traveling alone with you. Being alone with you. In a hotel known to value intimacy and privacy. Where his mind lingers on making love to you.

“…a lot of stuff.”

You shake your head, “Pick one of the stuff.”

The two of you move when your mom walks further down the bread aisle. It gives him time to come up with an adequate answer for you. Obviously, he wasn’t going to bring up that he wants to fuck you in front of your mother.

“It’s the first banquet without…her.”

“Who’s her?” Your mom pops in, placing three loaves of bread in the top of the cart.

“His ex-fiancé.” You pick your mother up to speed. “The one who cheated on him with his boss.”

“Oh her! Fuck her.”

“Mom-”

“What? Anyone who does that to me is not worth my time or thoughts. Plus,” She observes Miguel with an up and down glance, “who would want to cheat on this man?”

It’s nice to know he has your mother’s approval now.

“I don’t want it to be awkward...” He admits.

“Oh, it’s always gonna be awkward. But just don’t let it get to you. Or you.” Your mother points to you.

You accusatorily gasp, “Why are you saying that to me?”

“Because you tend to feel some type of way when it comes to stuff you don’t like.”

“Alright…” You turn your head away.

Your mother’s words hung on Miguel’s ear. She's right, it's always gonna be awkward. It matters on how he deals with it. He wasn't going to let Dana's appearance ruin his weekend with you.

“I’m so glad you’re taking my baby away for the weekend.” Your mom says while pointing to a few spices at the top shelf. While Miguel grabs them and hands them over, she continues. “All she ever does is go to work, come home, watch tv, and sleep. Sometimes she might be with her friends, but that’s rare. And I’m not talking just about Tempest. Your other girlfriends.”

Miguel glances over to you in question. You mouth ‘Pixie’ and he understands.

“That’s not all I do.”

“You know it’s not good to lie to your mommy.”

You huff and disappear over to the frozen aisle, leaving Miguel alone with your mom. The silence is brief besides the slight hum from freezers. While he helps your mother grab frozen vegetables, she strikes up another conversation.

“So, does your family know about your trip?”

“Yes, they’re aware.”

“Even your mother?”

Miguel pauses, trying to figure out what to say. His mother knows about his trip, but not that he’s taking you. It’s a conversation he wasn’t mentally prepare for. He didn’t want to hear the usual of you being a rebound or that you’re using him for his money. And a sprinkle of the relationship being so soon from his break up from Dana.

He’d rather hold that off until he’s ready.

“Yes.”

Your mother nods and you come back with a few bags of pizza rolls. Before she can say anything, you cut her off.

“I’m paying for these.”

“I wasn’t gonna say anything.”

“I can pay for them.” Miguel offers, “I know how much you like them.”

“No, thanks. I got it.”

He pouts, large brown eyes peering over his thick frames and to your eyes. You poke the inside of your cheek before kissing his own. Miguel can’t help the smile that comes out and amuses your mom.

After finishing up the grocery portion, your mom needed to grab some toiletries. It reminded you to grab some yourself for the trip. Miguel was okay, his bag already packed and ready to go. Done a week in advance.

“Y’all don’t need condoms?”

“Did you really just…” You hide your face under your palm at her comment.

“Don’t act like that. I don't want you coming back pregnant.”

“I won’t!”

“Yeah, okay.” Your mom grabbed a few boxes and put them beside your pizza rolls. “I’ve seen that hotel you’re going to. If you’re trying to tell me something is not going to happen, know that I don’t believe you.”

The blood rushes to Miguel’s cheeks while you don’t even try to look at him. Instead, you grab one of the boxes and put it back while your mom’s back is turned.

“I have plenty of condoms.” Miguel whispers.

You smirk, “And you’re saying that to me because…?”

“I…I just thought you should know.” He wasn’t flirting, although he can see how his words can come across that way. Thankfully, you see his serious face and shake your head.

“Thanks.”

The rest of the trip at the store goes well. Miguel surprises your mother by paying for her groceries and yours. Both of you protest in saying that he didn’t have to do that, but he wanted to. He was planning to slyly pay for yours, but he thought why not your mother’s?

She grabs his face and gives him the biggest kiss on his cheek as gratitude. Paired with a ‘You smell good’ comment.

Miguel wanted to help place the bags inside your home, but you stopped him, saying that you didn’t want him to deal with the rest of your family yet. He negotiated and you allowed him to place the rest of the bags on the porch.

You kiss him goodbye, lingering a little under the embrace. Miguel holds back in saying he wanted to bring you back to his apartment, to spend more time with you.

But he’ll have the entire weekend with just you and him.

Miguel went over his checklist.

Bags are in the trunk, air on low, gps set to the hotel, and you're right beside him. You match his attire of the ride, your huge zip-up jacket and matching black sweatpants radiates comfort. Dana always complained about his casual appearance, his baggy pants and loose shirt didn't pair well with her short, sparkly dress and high heels.

She wasn't the one driving for two hours.

He loves how you manage to maintain your cute yet comfortable clothing. Miguel also tries not to focus on how you're putting on lip gloss. Your lips forming a shine that makes him want to ruin it.

“You ready?” He asks when you put your lip gloss away.

“Yes I am.” Miguel chuckles at you putting on your seatbelt. He waves at your family waving goodbye to you before pulling off.

Sweat forms against the steering wheel. The big, bolded numbers of the timeframe of your destination. He isn't sure how he's gonna entertain you for more than 2 hours. Dana usually falls asleep thirty minutes in.

“Oh, you're taking I-95, right?”

“Yes.” He thumbs against the steering wheel, “Is something wrong?”

“No. I wanted to see if we can stop at that big gas station that's about halfway into the trip.” You pull out your phone, quickly showing it to him at a red light. “They got these sandwiches and milkshakes. I haven't been there in months.”

That sounds fun. He's always wondered what that place was like, but Dana pushed about getting food nearby the hotel.

He realizes he hasn't said anything and you pause.

“Oh, sorry, I should’ve asked before while you were planning…”

“No, no we can go there.” The excitement in your eyes kickstarts his heart. “I've never been. You mentioned milkshakes?”

You hum, “I got your sweet tooth, didn't I?”

Miguel avoids eye contact, which makes you laugh.

You go down the list of the potential choices. He settles on cookies and cream while you go for strawberry cheesecake. The music from your ‘road trip’ playlist in the background. Neither of you had a chance to move on to sandwiches when one of your favorite songs started to play.

He blinks and your phone is away while you're rolling your hips in your seat. Miguel is able to get a glance at your body moving to the beat. All sensual and fluid while you're singing at the top of your lungs.

His starts singing along too, albeit not knowing as much of the words as you do. But he's able to ad lib.

The car then turns into a sing-along.

The songs from your playlist are a lot of the ones he recognizes, helping him stay engage during the journey. While Dana was asleep, Miguel tuned into podcasts, various tracks to keep him entertained. He'd admit that it got boring after a while.

Now, in another life, he had a chance of becoming a rapper with the way he kept up with the songs.

At the halfway point, you point to the gas station you mentioned.

It was huge. Multiple lanes for said patrons to pump gas and be on their way. As well as a parking area in front.

Miguel didn’t need gas, he fills up right before reaching the hotel. So when he parks you almost fall out of the car with enthusiasm. His brief look of concern fades when you pull him inside.

Aisles of snacks and drinks on each side of the building. There was a decent amount of people coming and going. You headed straight for one of the touchscreens, right in front of the workers who were making other orders.

There were so many options to chose from. Yes, you mentioned there were sandwiches but there are so many. Hot and cold. Club sandwiches or hoagies. What did he have a taste for? They were going to be on the road for at least another hour. He didn’t want to get something to upset his stomach.

“Maybe I should go for something light.” He mentions, “I’m already getting a shake.”

“And you’re driving. Good idea.”

You point out to a few selections of wraps and that’s good enough for him. Meanwhile, you go for your drink of choice and a meatball sub. While waiting for your order, Miguel grabs some waters and you make a beeline for the candy. You pick his favorite which was sour peach rings. You also grab a bag of trail mix that contained more chocolate than nuts.

After Miguel pays for the snacks, your food is ready. There you two walk out with bags in hand, sucking on your milkshakes.

“Okay, you need to taste this.” You say after getting settled in the car.

Miguel leans over when you hold out your cup to sip, humming at the taste of cheesecake. “That’s good.”

“Isn’t it? I miss going to this place.”

“You said you haven’t been there in months right?”

You nod, unwrapping your sandwich. The scent of the marinara sauce from your sub makes his mouth water. “It’s just because we haven’t gone anywhere past New York. We’ve mainly stuck in the city.”

“Ah.” Miguel cradles the turkey wrap in his hand, taking a small bite.

“Didn’t you and Dana take this highway whenever the banquet comes around?”

“We did.”

“I’m surprised you’ve never been here before. This place has a little bit of everything.”

He bites the inside of his cheek. Unsure what to say without painting Dana in a bad light.

“Dana…has finer tastes.”

“She’s bougie.”

“N-No…well…” Miguel stammers, “S-She just prefers going to higher quality places. This gas station isn’t on her criteria for finer items.”

You scoff, rolling your eyes. “Once again, saying she’s bougie.”

He stays silent about that. You wasn’t wrong, but he never saw her that way. Ever since his promotion, Miguel strived to get her better things. Fancier accessories and finest places to show off his upper class status.

“It’s my fault.” Miguel doesn’t miss your eyes softening, “I made her that way. Why she’s into high quality things.”

You tsk, “It’s not. There’s a difference between spoiling someone and someone taking advantage of how they’re being spoiled. It’s a small difference, but it’s there.”

You turn towards him in your seat, careful to not make a mess. He’s looking at you now. Your face is gentle.

“You don’t deserve to be taken advantage of.”

Miguel’s heart twists, every beat of your words hanging in his head. “I know…”

“Good.” You quickly wipe your lips on a napkin to give him a big kiss on his lips. He takes in your lips, hint of marinara on them.

Not too long after you finish up your food, clean up and head back on the road.

The second half of the trip was relaxing.

Your music was still on, but remained turned down. The two of you ended up talking. Nothing as serious as the conversation back at the gas station. Just about various topics. The tv shows you were watching, trying to get Miguel to watch some of them. You were able to convince him of this show about a serial killer in Florida.

He went on about his game Candy Blast. How he’s maintaining his top five streak with Margo. That he completed enough levels to keep him by for the banquet weekend. Margo will let him know when he’s slipping since she’s always on that game. You intently listened, nodding your head and humming.

Soon, you two were almost at the hotel.

Miguel drove into a backroad, surrounded by trees. He always imagines arriving at the hotel as if he was in a movie. The way the trees fold away, revealing a grand hotel. A cobblestone driveway, a tall, black metal fence surrounding it. Grass being so green that he’d think was artificial. He smiles at your gasp when he pulls up to the front where a man runs out to greet you.

“Hello! Welcome to the Sunset Grove Hotel!”

He opens the door for you and helps you out. Miguel pops the trunk and grabs the bag filled with your snacks and water. He’s by your side as another person comes out to assist with the bags.

Walking inside the hotel will always be a dream. It’s as if the sun kissed the inside with the white walls and gold colored trims. Cream colored seating and pristine clear floors that almost looked like glass. Hotel guests lounging in the seating area, sipping on drinks from the complementary bar.

“Welcome back, Mr. O’Hara.” The front desk worker greets, “It’s an honor to host you again this year.”

“The honor is mine. I enjoy your services every time.”

You quickly tap his shoulder, “I gotta go.”

“Oh, I can come with-”

“I’m just going to the bathroom.” You squeeze his hand, “I’ll be back.”

With the help of another front desk clerk, they show you to the restroom. Miguel turns his attention back to the other clerk.

“Your room is almost ready for you. They’re putting in the finishing touches.” The clerk handed him a beeper. “It’ll vibrate once your room is prepared and I can give you the keys.”

“Thank you.”

Miguel parted from the desk, seeing the banner about the Alchemex 17th Annual Banquet. Sporting the blue and white colors of the company logo. For a moment, his heart skipped a beat in pondering what he was in for this weekend. His presentation is ready, he had his cue cards ready to go.

He’s going to see his ex-fiancé and biological father together and if he went alone, he’d be a nervous wreck.

Even now, without you by his side, his hands are shaking, palms getting sweaty. Your mother’s words hover in his mind again. It’s going to be awkward. How he deals with it is what matters.

“Miguel?”

He turns around. The woman that troubles his mind stands in front of him, clutching her pink purse and wearing a matching, short dress. All while staring at him with her crystal blue eyes.

“Hi Dana.”

Tags: @miguelzslvtz @kitcatcrunch

@nina-from-317 @slut4oscarissac23 @anythigbutmiguel

@moonlight00sthings @bajbr @freehentai

@chubbybyunnie @ilikeowlsidkwhy @questionable-behaviour

@imamexican @tatatida @aphinthestars

@bluesidez @saintdiior @prettygirleli

@twinkdrakez @vicravluv @brown-eyed-thang

@peachipeachy @sonicbutbutter @mermaidian02

@celi-xxmoon @roserfz27 @hellokittyloverrxox

@sweeetas @avengersinitiative2012

#miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel x reader #miguel o'hara x you #miguel ohara x you #miguel ohara x reader #miguel o hara x reader #miguel o'hara x black reader #spiderman 2099 x reader #x black fem reader #x black reader #x chubby reader #x reader #x female reader #miguel o'hara #miguel ohara #miguel fanfic #slushycoookie writes

46 notes · View notes

simplyraeblue · 2 days ago

Text

King and Captive

(Hunter and Hunted Spin-Off) read here

a chance meeting with Sukuna quickly turns into a nightly routine you can't escape. as the lines between game and something more blur, you start to wonder—how long can you keep playing, or will Sukuna make you his next conquest? !Sukuna x !femreader

chapter warnings/tags: swearing, drinking, use of "princess", not much of anything this part tbh. eventual smut warning tho of course ( • ᴗ - ) A/N: THE SPIN OFF IS FINALLY HERE! of course, because I'm obsessive I've already written 3 full parts... I suck at writing beginnings though, so bear with me as things are a lil slow in my opinion! I hope you all enjoy it as much as you enjoyed Hunter and Hunted; and be prepared for MORE smut cause its SUKUNA OF COURSE.

index part one | part two

part one word count: 2,762

Christmas had come and gone, and you had stepped into the new year with an even angrier outlook on life than you’d had before. sure, last year had been rough; you’d been cheated on and promptly dumped for someone else, and the bittersweet icing on the cake was when you found out your ex had gotten engaged over the holiday season. you’d done what any sane person would do – drank away your feelings.

the past few weeks, your friends could often find you at the bottom of a mug, angry eyes watching as you toyed with the coaster at any bar you’d walked into. you need – no, wanted – vengeance. you imagined the look on your ex’s face if you ran into him with another, maybe hotter, guy on your arm. men these days were only looking to get their dicks wet, how hard could it be to snag one?

you came to realize it was incredibly hard.

any man that gave you the time of day seemed to be scraping the bottom of the barrel, consistently sleezy and looking like they hadn’t showered in days. or worse, still lived in their mother’s basement. the men you worked with were no better. constantly watching your ass as you walked by, attempting to slyly cop a feel in the break room, and so on.

so, here you were, walking down the street to a pub around the corner from your job to grab a drink. you had a one-track mind for this sort of thing, oblivious to your surroundings until two men stepped into your path to stop you.

“excuse me.” you muttered as you took a step to the side, trying to go around them. before you could get back to your mission one of their hands reached out and snagged your wrist. ugh, more disgusting pigs. “I’ll ask you once to kindly let go off me.”

“c’mon pretty, we just wanna talk t’ ya.” the bigger, burlier one gave you a sly grin that made your skin crawl.

“yea, walking around with a skirt that short we couldn’t help but notice ya.” the one holding your wrist tightened his grip slightly. your frown stretched down your face as you took a moment to assess the situation. what was it your friends always said? right – be loud, draw attention, scream fire and whatnot.

“oi, get your fucking hands off me!” you shouted, tugging your wrist against the firm hold.

“what do ya expect when ya dress like a whore?” one of them snapped as they stepped closer. you were only dressed for work; skirt that came down mid-thigh, button up blouse that covered every inch of your skin, so how was this outfit whorish?

“she’s got a mouth on her, huh?” they nudged each other as you struggled to get free. with your free hand, you made a fist and pulled it back. you wouldn’t be able to seriously injure them, that was for sure, but you could at least distract and get away.

“I said leave me the hell alone, twatbags!” you shouted, fist shaking but staying firm in a pulled-back position. if they made one more move, you’d muster up the courage and hit one of them.

suddenly, both men went wide-eyed in front of you and your wrist was released from it’s prison. hah, so my scare tactics worked, you thought. you’d have to pat yourself on the back later for this achievement. “aw, little ole me got you boys scared? looks like you’re about to wet your pants.” you smirked, crossing your arms in triumph.

until their eyes traveled from you, to over your head.

“these guys bothering you?”

your body tensed at the deep, baritone voice from behind you. so that’s what had the men backing off – but that scared? whoever was behind you had to be huge, like a wrestler or something. you imagine big, bulging muscles and a towering figure, and you gulped.

“I believe she asked you to leave her alone.” whoever was behind you continued, and with each word you almost shivered. his voice exuded strength, even something like anger laced in his tone. or was it just annoyance? “oh, forgot to add the twatbags part. that was a good descriptor.”

the two men stepped back and the other man stepped forward, now standing slightly in front of you. you dared to scan his figure – not a body builder, but definitely not small. he wore a black compression tee that showed off his muscles, and you could see the tattoos running all across his skin, intertwined and connected everywhere you looked. your eyes caught on his light pink hair, slicked back but disheveled on the sides as if he’d been running a hand through the strands.

“while I’d love the entertainment of watching her take a swing at you, I don’t think you want to see what happens if you retaliated.” the man merely crossed his arms before looking down at you. he did in fact tower, maybe just over you but he was still above average height. something flickered in his eyes as they met yours, and you could only stare at him speechlessly.

he hadn’t even had to do anything before the men scoffed and walked away, albeit hurriedly like a fire had been lit under their asses. you and the man watched as they scurried down the sidewalk, and you finally let out a sigh when they disappeared from sight.

“thanks for that. although I’m pretty sure I had it covered.” you felt him look at you as you watched the distance – double checking that they were in fact gone before you left the protection of the stranger.

he chuckled lowly as he shook his head. “looks like you did. but, I thought I’d provide backup just in case.”

but before he could continue, you were already walking away in the opposite direction of the two men. all you had wanted was a damn drink, and by god you were going to get one.

you could hear the faint echo of footsteps behind you, but you tried to push it out of your mind, focusing instead on the door to the bar in front of you. with a swift motion, you yanked it open, stepping inside and hoping to lose the stranger following you.

but when you heard those same footsteps following you in, your patience snapped. you turned around, irritation bubbling to the surface. “are you following me?” you demanded, locking eyes with the man who had been trailing behind you. “do I need to be worried about you too?”

he just chuckled, his casual demeanor only adding to your annoyance. “do you think I owe you something now?” you shot back, trying to keep your tone serious, though it was clear he didn’t take you seriously at all.

his laughter echoed in the small space; a mocking sound that only made your frustration grow. “actually,” he said, his voice steady, “I came back to finish the beer I left to save your ass.” he gestured nonchalantly at a knocked-over bar stool and the half-empty drink sitting nearby, the remnants of the drink he’d been enjoying before the whole mess began.

the heat of embarrassment crept up your neck as you processed his words. “oh.” you mumbled, feeling the awkwardness seep into your skin. "sorry. considering the kind of men I’ve just dealt with, I didn’t know if you were some sleazeball too.”

he raised an eyebrow, clearly amused. “sleazeball? you sound like my little brother,” he said with a smirk, a glint of amusement in his eyes.

you couldn't help but throw a jab back. “then he has good taste in vocabulary.”

the man’s grin only grew wider, clearly amused by the bite in your tone. his eyes glinted with something like genuine entertainment as he took a step closer. “my name’s Ryomen Sukuna, by the way,” he said, his voice dripping with casual confidence.

you narrowed your eyes, studying him with suspicion. there was something about the way he carried himself that set your nerves on edge. “I don’t know if I’m comfortable giving my full name to a complete stranger,” you replied, your tone a mix of caution and defiance.

Sukuna simply shrugged, as though your response didn’t faze him in the least. “but I just introduced myself, after acting as your knight in shining armor, I might add.” he gave a lazy stretch, his posture relaxed as he leaned against the bar, his gaze fixed on you as if daring you to challenge him further.

you didn’t back down. “that doesn’t mean I know you now,” you said, your eyes still narrowed. you turned away from him, flagging down the bartender who had just started to clean the counter. “a drink. whiskey, neat,” you said, your voice firm as you slid a few bills across the bar.

normally, you wouldn’t dare drink hard liquor on a weekday at five o’clock, but goddamn you needed it now. your nerves were on edge, but a stronger feeling had settled within you since the start of this particular conversation.

he was unbelievably attractive. pierced ears, tattooed skin, and a smile reminiscent of the devil across his lips. so so not your usual type. but then again, your type had cheated on you. Sukuna’s presence was almost overwhelming – strength, confidence or cockiness – the air stilled around him like it was intruding his space.

Sukuna watched you with a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “then get to know me,” he said, his voice low and almost coaxing, as if the idea of you refusing was an amusing thought to him.

you didn’t hesitate in your response. “buy me a drink and I’ll consider it,” you shot back, your tone playful but laced with a challenge. you’d be damned if you’d make it that easy for him, knowing all to well the type of men that seem to flirt with you always turn out to be disgusting.

he raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued by your boldness, but said nothing as the bartender set your drink down in front of you. it was clear you weren’t going to make things easy for him, but that only seemed to fuel his curiosity.

you were already fascinating him. from Sukuna’s first look at you, ready to stand your ground against two grown men, to now acting defiant against him even as he could see the tension in your shoulders with every sentence you spoke. were you feigning confidence or was it real? he liked the way you talked back to him; it made the conversation more entertaining, and he eased into it with pleasure.

Sukuna’s eyes never left you as you took your drink from the bartender, the smooth amber liquid catching the dim light of the bar. he didn't immediately respond, just leaned back against the counter, arms crossed, a thoughtful expression playing across his features. for a moment, you wondered if he was going to let the challenge slide.

then, to your surprise, he pushed off the bar with a slow, deliberate movement and took a step toward you. his presence felt heavier now, more intense. heat rolled off of him and over you, his cologne drowned your senses. “a drink, huh?” he mused, his voice taking on a playful edge, like he was toying with you. “that’s all it takes to get you to talk to me?”

you took a sip of your whiskey, cringing at the burn as you met his gaze head-on. “depends on the drink,” you replied, the hint of a smirk curling at your lips. you had no intention of giving in that quickly, not when he still felt like a puzzle you weren’t sure you wanted to solve.

Sukuna chuckled softly, the sound deep and almost predatory, like he was enjoying the chase. “I think I can handle that,” he said, raising a hand to signal the bartender. his attention briefly shifted to the man behind the counter, but when it returned to you, his expression had softened, just a fraction, though the amusement never fully left his eyes. “is whiskey your usual, then?” he asked, his tone suddenly more casual, almost conversational.

you tilted your head, considering him for a moment. “I’m not sure it’s the drink I’m worried about,” you said, leaning in just slightly, your voice quieter now. “it’s the company.”

he gave you a look that said he wasn’t fazed by your words, not in the slightest. "trust me," he replied smoothly, "I’m better company than most people you'd find in this place."

he wasn't wrong. there was something undeniably magnetic about him, an energy that drew you in despite your better judgment. you could sense there was more to him than what he was showing, and a part of you couldn’t help but wonder what he was really after.

the bartender placed a fresh drink in front of Sukuna — a glass of something darker, likely whiskey as well, and more expensive than the one you had just ordered. Sukuna didn’t touch it immediately, instead shifting his stance so he was fully facing you, his eyes now narrowing just slightly, as if sizing you up. like you were a snack he wanted to take a bite out of.

"alright, I’ll bite," he said, his voice a low murmur as he watched you closely. “what’s your story?”

you took another sip of your drink, your gaze never leaving his. “maybe I’ll tell you,” you said slowly, deliberately, “but it’s going to cost you more than just a drink.”

Sukuna’s lips curled into another half-smile, his confidence never wavering. “I’m up for the challenge. what’s the price?” his tone had shifted again, all business now, but there was still an edge of that playful intensity behind it.

for the briefest moment, you almost felt like you were playing a game with him, something neither of you had agreed on but that you both instinctively understood. you hesitated, eyes scanning his face for any hint of vulnerability — but there was none.

“get me another round, and we’ll talk,” you finally said, giving him a sly smile that matched the gleam in your eyes.

Sukuna didn’t need another word. he turned away, reaching for the glass, a quiet satisfaction in his movements. he knew the game was far from over, but there was no doubt in his mind that he’d be the one to win it.

you lifted your eyes to meet his, watching him with a mixture of curiosity and caution. he was still an enigma, his expression unreadable, his posture relaxed but with an edge that hinted at something more dangerous beneath.

“you’re a man of few words,” you observed, your voice playful but with an undercurrent of challenge. “or is it that you’re waiting for me to spill my life story?”

he raised an eyebrow, clearly entertained by your attempt to provoke him. “I’ve got all the time in the world,” he replied smoothly, voice low and even. you could feel his eyes on you, studying you in a way that made you want to pull back, but also something else—a curiosity, maybe even an unspoken challenge.

you took another sip, avoiding his gaze for a moment. “and what’s in it for me?” you asked, your voice steady but carrying a hint of sarcasm. “why should I bother getting to know you?”

Sukuna’s smile deepened, almost like he was savoring the moment. “because,” he said, his voice now tinged with something a little darker, “I’m not just any stranger. and I think you’ll find out, sooner or later, that I’m worth your time.”

his confidence was almost infuriating, but you couldn’t deny that something about him intrigued you. maybe it was his audacity, or maybe it was the mystery that clung to him like a second skin. or possibly, that he could be the hottest man you’d ever laid eyes on. either way, you weren’t ready to walk away just yet.

“I’ll believe that when I see it,” you replied, a small challenge in your voice, but this time, there was a flicker of curiosity in your gaze too.

Sukuna met your challenge with a steady, unwavering stare, his smirk never fading. “then I guess you’ll just have to stick around and find out, won’t you?”

it wasn’t an offer. it wasn’t even a question. it was a promise. and whether you liked it or not, you were beginning to realize that you might just be caught up in his game—whether you wanted to be or not.

it wasn’t an offer, or even a question. it was a damn promise. whether you realized it, you were beginning to get caught up in his game – it was inevitable.

⊹. ݁˖ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁₊ ⊹

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . taglist: @mangiswig @aldebrana @ravester @marie-is-in-the-dark @makingtimemine @sorahatake @osohchoso @csolya I tagged some people that interacted A TON with Hunter and Hunted who I appreciate so so much ; so if you were tagged and would like to be removed just let me know! ♡ I hope this fic is as loved as Hunter and Hunted! . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ .

46 notes · View notes

goreandbunnies · 19 hours ago

Text

⛧☾༒︎ 𝔇𝔢𝔳𝔬𝔱𝔦𝔬𝔫 ༒︎☽⛧

Sukuna x Reader, Toji x Reader

Summary ๋࣭ ⭑⚝"Almost six months after meeting him, I had finally managed to escape. At least that's what I thought, hidden in that alley, holding my breath and waiting for the search party to get further away from my spot. But this city was his, he had eyes everywhere. I needed to leave as far away as I could."

Warnings ๋࣭ ⭑⚝ Explicit language, sexual explicit scenes, sexual assault, drugs and alcohol, explicit violent scenes, gun violence, emotional and physical manipulation, dub-con, mentions of cults, blood and blood play, knife play.

Word count ๋࣭ ⭑⚝ 10.5k (in progress)

Dividers by @animatedglittergraphics-n-more & @cafekitsune

𝕮𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖙𝖊𝖗 1

Six months earlier 1.

The music was blasting through the club’s speakers as our group got inside, my friend Amy leading us all to the VIP booth she had reserved for us.

She had booked half of the fanciest, high end club in town to throw the most indecent bachelorette party humanity had ever witnessed. I didn’t know where to watch - the entire place was either shining or sparkling. Chrome, black and white all over the walls and floors, where the lights reflected on the mass of sweaty bodies dancing around us. The very long and exclusive waiting list to get in made the few people allowed in there feel privileged. Blessed.

“I can’t believe you managed to book that club, Amy,” another friend of ours gasped as she looked around as well.

“Ben is friends with the owner, when we said we wanted to plan both parties here, he offered to book it for us,” Amy replied, filled with pride. I smiled at her.

Amy had been my best friend since high school - she and I were polar opposites but somehow ended up inseparable. She was tiny, blonde, a social bee, always chatting with new people and making friends whereas I liked the quiet and the comfort of my inner circle.

I readjusted the pink “maid of honor” sash on my tight red dress and watched as Ben - the future groom - and his party arrived. They had decided to do a joint party to enjoy the lush club and I knew Amy wanted to keep an eye on Ben to make sure his cavemen friends wouldn’t hire a stripper for him.

“Hey there,” a voice said behind me, hands grazing my arms. I shivered and took a step away.

“Hey,” I gave Brad - Ben’s best friend and best man - a polite smile but took another step away from him just to be sure.

Brad and the rest of the party were in high school with us. We all grew up together. He used to bully me for being too tall, standing out in any girl group, only to hit on me constantly now that we were both adults. Except I had zero interest in the preppy looking guy in the slightest. Whenever he was around me, all I wanted was to run away.

“Looking good tonight, want me to get you something to drink?” He stepped forward to basically scream in my ear over the music. I placed a couple of fingers on his chest and kept him away.

“I’m not drinking anything you bring me,” I smiled again, this time struggling to stay polite.

“After all these years, really?” He laughed, as if it had been a fucking joke to him. “It was one time and you had so much fun,” he said as he sat heavily on the black cushioned seats.

“You fucking roofied me and I almost drowned in the pool at that frat party,” I spat at him angrily.

“Water under the bridge, baby. It’s in the past, you should move on,” he laid his arms out on the back of the seat as Ben and the rest of the guys sat next to him.

Sick of him ruining the night for me, I gave him the middle finger before heading for the VIP section of the bar where Amy was ordering shots for us girls. I dropped on a stool and sighed.

“Lemme guess, Brad?” Amy asked as she collected the shots and placed them on a tray. I nodded.

“I don’t know why Ben is still friends with that asshole,” she shook her blonde head, her curls bouncing around. “I mean everyone knows what he did and no one bats an eye cause his father is loaded,” she rolled her eyes before placing a shot in front of me and taking one for her.

Amy was the one who had driven me to the police station to press charges against Brad. She yelled at each and every officer until one sat down to take my statement. But one flick of Brad’s father's checkbook and the file disappeared into oblivion.

“As long as he doesn’t come near me, I can tolerate his presence,” I said before clinking my glass with hers and downing the shot in one gulp. Amy hummed in pleasure as she looked around before turning back to me.

“Don’t look but there’s a guy who’s totally checking you out over there,” she discreetly nodded over her shoulder. I chuckled.

“How can you tell, maybe he’s checking you out,” I made sure not to look as ordered but curiosity was getting the best of me.

“Cause of this,” she pointed at her plastic tiara with a veil, her short black dress and her “future bride” sash. She turned around again to peek and I followed her gaze to a gigantic, scary looking guy.

That man looked like every single red flag packed into a pile of muscles, bodyguard type, with a burning stare and a vertical scar on the side of his mouth. He seemed to be a couple of years older than us, early thirties, but he had nothing in common with the guys sitting a few feet away. He was violence incarnate and even from afar, standing still, arms crossed over his large chest, I could feel the anger coming off him in waves.

Amy was right, it wasn’t her he was staring at, but me. Quite openly. His stare lingered on me for a while, taking in the length of my bare legs up to the red dress I was wearing, the tattoos on my arms - my damn boobs and eventually, his eyes locked with mine. I raised an eyebrow before returning the favor and eyeing him down.

The black t-shirt he was wearing didn’t leave much room to imagination - his arms were the size of both my legs together and his chest seemed to have been molded in pure iron. When I looked at his lower body, I wasn’t surprised to find that his legs matched his arms - the thickest thighs known to man wrapped in tight black suit pants.

My eyes ran up to his broad shoulders, thick neck then up to his face, eyes dark partially hidden by slick dark hair falling in front of them. He sure did look scary, yet I couldn’t help but think he looked beautiful. The rage that vibrated off him was intoxicating.

Somehow, I got the feeling that he felt out of place, like a fish out of the water down here with the mass of bodies and loud music. The permanent frown on his face was pretty clear - he wasn’t happy to be here and he was not to be fucked with.

“Damn he looks scary,” Amy raised her eyebrows at me before a new song played, causing her to shriek like a banshee. “That’s my song! Let’s get on the dancefloor, where are the girls?”

She took my hand and dragged me away, not before I managed to give the stranger a small smile and for a second, I swore I saw the scarred corner of his lip rise.

Taglist ♥ @sweetlandspos @tojislittleprincesss @paradisestarfishh @unheavenlypacked

#sukuna x reader #sukuna x smut #jjk sukuna #toji x reader #sukuna fanfic #toji fanfic #jjk x you #jjk x reader #goreandbunnies #tw dark content #tw non con

46 notes · View notes

biinaberry · 19 hours ago

Note

I have so many question about the QJP disciple in hiding AU-- Has SY been identified as an insurgent/someone speaking against the emperor? Does LBH recognize SY as his ex-shixiong? Does LBH know his kids are running off or does he not pay any attention? Is LBH familiar with SY's femme persona/ is he trying to woo her?

[original post] Shen Yuan still has remaining trauma from the abuse SQQ has put him through over 70 years ago. He chooses to isolate himself as to prevent himself from lashing out at others or causing a paranoia episode. After the burning of cang qiong he actually has the idea to rebuild the forests on the burned mountain peaks after all the demons and cultivators left. He plants bamboo and shrubs in the area and finds himself making peace with what has happened to him through this process. Thankfully LBH never returned to the peak as there's no reason to now, there is no more revenge that can be performed. No one knows he exists and SY wants it to stay that way

Shen Yuan was already a full adult by the time LBH joined qing jing peak. When LBH joined at 14 sy was already 27 and long since left the sect (at 17). There's a chance they crossed paths when LBH was a disciple but,

To me Luo Bingge screams being ace. Yes, the stallion protagonist known for the large amounts of sex he has, is ace. The first time Binghe had sex he was basically pressured into it by Qin Wanyue and I feel that drastically impacted his relationship with sex. The fact that his body is a form of medicine leads him with internal battle where he doesn't want to confront the fact he doesn't really Enjoy sex and is instead going through the motions.

Do you want to be the one responsible for someone dying just because you didn't want to bang?There's a lot of social pressure. The constant pattern of women falling for his body and charm speaks to me that they aren't actually there for him they're there for his body. And this is further pushed by him taking on these multiple wives but soon dropping them after having sex with them, he marries them bc its the one form of moral code he stands with. If he has sex with them, then he must marry them for proprietary sake.

So when he eventually has his first child, Tian Feng he has to come to terms with the fact he doesn't actually want kids either. But does it to please the wives which he forced himself to have.

He cares for them but doesn't really love them. He let the wives have kids bc it is expected that he has tons of heirs. He knows the heavenly demon blood will prevent them from being killed. He only notices after one of the wives comes up to him saying their children have been missing for a week so he goes searching for them.

And has he flirted with SY while he was in his femsona?

Absolutely. SY has to strain in order to not punch LBH in the face. But gets him to backoff after saying hes happily married already and isn't looking for a second husband

#cycle of hands #svsss #shen yuan #luo binghe #luo bingge #pidw native shen yuan

34 notes · View notes

heygirltimeformorning · 19 hours ago

Text

wrote some tooth-rotting Buddie fluff chatfic for @playinginthunderstorms & @theflatman last night and I thought yall might enjoy!

this is VERY rough chatfic, and I cleaned it up a bit, but it’s chatfic, so please don’t be harsh with me!! & enjoy.

Eddie moves Chris back to LA very unexpectedly three days before Christmas, which causes chaos for Buck, because obviously he had gifts for Eddie and Chris, but he’d expected to go to El Paso to Eddie’s rental house a couple days after Christmas to see the Diaz boys. Christmas itself he planned to spend with Maddie and Chimney, and he doesn’t really bother decorating his loft beyond the tree and a wreath on the front door. Maybe he’s not in the Christmas spirit this year. Maybe he doesn’t particularly want to examine why. Maybe it has to do with Eddie and Chris.

So Buck is at home, December 22, glaring at his pitiful little tree and the neatly wrapped packages, and his cell phone buzzes.

second favorite Diaz: any chance your available for an airport pickup in 3 hours and 45 mins?

And Eddie’s used the wrong form of “you’re,” and LAX three days before Christmas is genuinely one of the innermost circles of hell, but —

are you and Chris coming back to LA

And Eddie confirms, yes, he and Chris are enroute, and Buck has two thoughts: one, he’s going to have to leave soon for LAX, traffic is that bad and two, Chris and Eddie will be coming home to a house that isn’t decorated for Christmas, and that will not do.

If the sudden return of his usually indomitable Christmas spirit is tied to Eddie and Chris and their return to LA, well, Buck has decorating to do. He doesn’t have time to sit and think about his feelings. And that’s how Buck Buckley does things: all in. He’s never half-assed anything in his entire life, so he loads up every Christmas decoration he can find, takes it over to Eddie’s still-uninhabited house, and gets to work.

Buck never thought he’d be grateful for flight delays, but through the magic of Christmas and the sudden return of Buck’s Christmas spirit, Eddie and Chris’ flight is delayed long enough that Buck can actually do a decent job decorating for Christmas, including the Christmas-themed sheets he had given Eddie and Chris one year, complete with matching Christmas pajamas. He sets a plate of cookies on the counter right as his phone alarms, reminding him it’s time to head to LAX, so he does, going to get his boys. He doesn’t think about anything other than the fact that he managed to pull off kind of a Christmas miracle. He doesn’t think about the way he’d wanted to beg Eddie not to go, the way he’d wanted to beg Eddie to come back — come home every day since he left. He doesn’t think about any of that. It’s Christmas, and his boys are going to be back in LA.

But the truth is, ever since he’d found out that Eddie intended to move to El Paso, there’s been a pit in his stomach. He’d chalked it up to his own personal abandonment issues, had told himself he didn’t like change. He could admit he’d miss Eddie — he already missed Chris, and it’s normal to be sad your best friend is moving away. Even when it was for a good reason. Normal to be sad, yes. But Buck didn’t really half-ass things, and while he thinks he’s disguised it well, the truth is he’s devastated that, once again, he wasn’t enough for anyone to fight for. And he knows. He knows that Eddie will pick Chris every time — that’s how Buck wants it. Chris is (rightfully) Eddie’s priority. But it had hurt that Buck wasn’t even on the list.

LAX is a zoo. Usually, Buck would park and go in to the airport to get his boys — he has no idea if this is a permanent move, if they’re just visiting, what kind of luggage they’ll have, and he doesn’t want to put pressure on Chris to be anything other than what he was, and he’s not sure he can keep himself from crying when he sees them in the airport. Buck cries at those soldier reunion videos. He doesn’t trust himself with his very own reunion video. So he waits in the jeep, texts Eddie that he’s here, and then he watches the sliding glass doors.

Buck’s heart jumps into his throat when he sees Eddie with a luggage cart, piled high with — with suitcases. With multiple suitcases, because that means, at the very least, an extended stay, and maybe even —

He’s out of the car before he can think it through, before he can think about trotting his heart out again. This is Eddie and Chris— there is no trotting his heart out again. They already own it — all of it.

They share a reunion-video worthy hug, all three of them, and Buck takes a step back, taking them both in. He’s scared to ask, because having Eddie and Chris back — but he has to know.

“Is this…?” he asks, and Chris rolls his eyes.

“El Paso is boring,” he says in that dry, measured way of his. “I miss actual fro-yo places, and Trader Joe’s.”

And Buck looks at Eddie who has this look on his face, a kind of helpless, hapless joy, like, can you believe this? And then Chris rolls his eyes.

“Dad made things more complicated than they needed to be,” Chris says, “so now we have a whole house we have to figure out how to break the rental agreement on.”

“I’ve been researching it,” Buck says, can’t help it. It isn’t a lie - not even close. Just in case. Just in case all his dreams came true.

And Buck knows that they can’t exactly set the precedent that the second Chris gets back from his self-imposed exile (like father like son) he gets whatever he wants, but when they get the bags loaded in the car, and when Chris and Eddie are in Buck’s jeep, and when Buck’s heart is Shirley Temple-ing up and down the steps of his brain, and Chris says “can we stop for fro-yo,” Buck says yes without hesitation, even though the place Chris wants to go is going to be packed, because they do a fro-yo and caroling event that’s tonight. Buck’s boys are back. They’re back, and Buck will take Chris for fro-yo every single night for the rest of his life if it means he gets to have Eddie and Chris back in his life.

All told, it’s late— or, well, early, depending on how you look at it— when they get to the Diaz house, and Buck can’t help but look over at Eddie when they pull up, the Christmas tree lights on and glowing through the window.

“Have you been living here?” Eddie asks, and there’s something Buck can’t quite identify in his voice.

And Buck realizes that it’s actually probably weird that he’s decorated the Diaz house for Christmas, especially considering that no one is officially living here. And has Buck thought about it? Yes. When they’d set things up with Ravi to rent it out, Buck had thought — maybe. But the truth was, it would be too … painful. Buck has lived with ghosts before. He spent his whole childhood with Daniel’s ghost (even if he hadn’t known that’s what it was at the time ) and he couldn’t move into the Diaz house without the Diazes. It would be like living in a mausoleum.

“Uh,” he says in response to Eddie’s question. Chris had finished his fro-yo and passed out, and was currently snoring quietly, head leaned against the window of the Jeep. “N-no. Nobody’s living here, I just thought… it might be nice to come home to something… homey.”

“You decorated?” Eddie asks. “Tonight? You decorated the house tonight before you picked us up?”

Buck turns a little pink, glancing down at his hands. “Guess your flight getting delayed had a silver lining,” he says, and then he looks up at Eddie.

Eddie, who’s looking at Buck with look on his face that’s half-heartbroken, half-something else. Something Buck can almost but not quite identify. “I missed you too, Buck,” he says finally, reaching out to give Buck’s shoulder a squeeze, his thumb fitting into that place just under his collarbone.

Buck feels the weight of it, and the air is suddenly charged between them. Buck’s looking at Eddie. Eddie’s looking at Buck. Chris is asleep in the backseat.

Eddie is home. Buck feels it like a rush, something that sweeps in and washes through him. Eddie is back where he belongs, and Buck’s world rights itself on its axis.

They get the bags inside, and Chris, and get Chris in his bed and then Eddie comes down the hall, raising his eyebrows in surprise when Buck presents him with their brand of beer.

“I had some groceries delivered while I was decorating,” he admits, a little bashful. “Not much, I just didn’t want you to come home to an empty fridge.”

Eddie cracks his beer open and takes a long drink. It’s going on three in the morning, and he’s tired, yes, but he nods to the couch, and Buck meets him there, settling down next to him, their thighs pressed together, their shoulders touching, both of them watching the gentle glow of the Christmas tree. “So,” Eddie says, “guess I should explain.”

And Buck wants to say that it’s okay, that he doesn’t need an explanation. That having them home is all he needs, that as long as they’re back and safe and here, then Buck is happy. And all of that is true, but Buck also wants to know — he wants to understand. What happened — what changed. “Well,” Buck says carefully, and Eddie looks up from his beer. “I am a little curious, yeah.”

So Eddie explains, talks about how Chris had taken one look at the rental house in El Paso and thrown the holiest of fits. How Chris had said some things that made a lot of sense, actually (Eddie admits this with a slightly chagrined look) and had demanded to know why Eddie was moving back to El Paso when he’d made it pretty fucking obvious (Chris’ exact words, apparently, which Eddie looks a little pained and a little proud and a little amused over) that El Paso didn’t make him happy. Eddie explains that Chris had just been waiting for Eddie to ask him to come home, and Eddie hadn’t wanted to uproot Chris (again) from his clubs, and they’d initially decided to wait until the new year to move back. But then, Eddie says, they’d been sitting in the living room of the rental house, and Chris had asked about Buck, and then Eddie stops talking.

Buck and Eddie never really have awkward silences. Even when Buck had shown up at Eddie’s house to find Eddie in his underwear, dancing to “Old Time Rock n Roll,” it hadn’t been awkward.

But this… this is a little bit awkward. Eddie is picking at the label on his beer bottle.

“Chris asked about me?” Buck asks, and Eddie nods. It feels like a half-truth, like Eddie’s holding something back, and Buck frowns at the Christmas tree, at the gifts he’d picked out for Chris and Eddie, had cried while he wrapped them, because he missed them, even if he wouldn’t admit it to anyone but himself.

“He did,” Eddie says, carefully, guarded. Eddie’s eyes are on the tree, and Buck looks over at Eddie, and the thing that Buck couldn’t stand to think about, the thing he’d realized too late was that he loves Eddie, that the second he’d realized Eddie planned to go to El Paso, a little piece of Buck’s heart had broken off, and then another and then another until he was in LA, bleeding out, all the pieces of his heart in El Paso.

Eddie shifts, suddenly, almost abruptly, so he’s turned to face Buck, and Buck turns to face Eddie, like he can’t help but echo his movements. “Chris said something,” he says, carefully. “And. I think… I think he might be right.”

“He’s the smartest person I know,” Buck points out, but the joke is a little stiff, doesn’t quite fit this conversation. There’s a pause. And then Buck asks, “what did he say?”

Eddie takes a deep breath, like he’s about to say something he can’t take back. Like things were about to change. “He asked,” Eddie says carefully, “if I had told you I was in love with you.”

Buck’s not sure he’s breathing. He’s not sure Eddie’s breathing.

“If I had considered,” Eddie says, “that leaving you in LA was cruel.” He folds his hands in his lap.

Buck can’t make his mouth work. His throat sticks, clicks around the words. “Eddie—“ he manages, finally, because he’d never thought cruel. “He’s your baby, Eds, I — I never —“

Because Buck had thought all kinds of things when Eddie had left for El Paso — none of them had been that Eddie was cruel. Eddie wasn’t cruel. Eddie was kind and funny and he felt things deeply and he knew the best pancake recipe, and he was Buck’s steady — when Buck didn’t know what to do, there was always Eddie, just waiting. Buck’s loved him for a long time, even if he hadn’t realized it until he’d been confronted with Eddie leaving, with losing both of his boys.

“You aren’t cruel, Eddie,” Buck says finally, and Eddie huffs out a little laugh.

“Well,” Eddie says, eyes on the Christmas tree, but then they flicker back to Buck. “He wasn’t — wrong. About. About me being in love with you.”

It’s quiet, the admission, something soft and gentle and a little painful, a little vulnerable, and Buck isn’t sure what to do with that.

“You know,” Eddie says after a long moment. “There’s one thing missing.”

And Buck frowns, because what could be missing? He’d tried to think of everything. He’d decorated for Christmas in a few hours and then he’d driven to LAX, and something was missing? What could it possibly —

But then Buck’s train of thought ends abruptly, smashing into the side of a cliff. No survivors, because Eddie says there’s only one thing missing and then he closes the distance between them and kisses Buck.

Buck doesn’t kiss Eddie back. He’s too stunned to speak or kiss back or do anything, because this is the second time someone has kissed Buck and helped something click into place. And what had clicked into place wasn’t that he loves Eddie — he knew that already — but that he gets to have this, if he wants it, precious and perfect. That Eddie had left, yes, but he’d come back. That he’d seen the house decorated for Christmas and understood it as Buck’s abundance of joy — as an expression of love — instead of something silly and stupid.

To be loved, Buck knows, is to be known, and Eddie knows him, knows all of him, and isn’t flinching.

Eddie pulls back after the one sided kiss and looks a little panicked, and then the gears in Buck’s brain start to turn again and he shakes his head, reaching for Eddie as he starts to pull back, pulling him back into a kiss, and this one, Buck is an active participant in.

“I love you,” Buck says, when the kiss breaks, their foreheads pressed together, panting into each other’s mouths. “I love you, I love you. Thank you.” He swallows, heavily. “Thank you for coming home,” he whispers. “I love you.”

“Merry Christmas,” Eddie says with a little smile. “I love you, too.”

#Buddie #911 fic #chatfic #eddie x buck #Eddie Diaz #evan buck buckley #911

45 notes · View notes