#gang we need to work together here | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

dcxdpdabbles · 3 months ago

Note

hi hi!! i loveee your writing (always makes me smile/cry whenever i read it)

Have you got another part of Unfinished Business (i think that’s what it’s called - the one where Gotham is getting cleaner through a computer game) ??

LOVEE YOUR WORK!!!

❤️🧡💛💚🩵💙💜🩷❤️🧡💛💚🩵💙💜🩷 ❤️🧡💛💚🩵💙💜🩷❤️🧡💛💚🩵💙💜🩷 ❤️🧡💛💚🩵💙💜🩷❤️🧡💛💚🩵💙💜🩷 ❤️🧡💛💚🩵💙💜🩷❤️🧡💛💚🩵💙💜🩷 ❤️🧡💛💚🩵💙💜🩷❤️🧡💛💚🩵💙💜🩷 ❤️🧡💛💚🩵💙💜🩷❤️🧡💛💚🩵💙💜🩷 ❤️🧡💛💚🩵💙💜🩷❤️🧡💛💚🩵💙💜🩷 ❤️🧡💛💚🩵💙💜🩷❤️🧡💛💚🩵💙💜🩷 ❤️🧡💛💚🩵💙💜🩷❤️🧡💛💚🩵💙💜🩷 ❤️🧡💛💚🩵💙💜🩷❤️🧡💛💚🩵💙💜🩷 ❤️🧡💛💚🩵💙💜🩷❤️🧡💛💚🩵💙💜🩷 ❤️🧡💛💚🩵💙💜🩷❤️🧡💛💚🩵💙💜🩷

Bruce poured over the maps, searching for the random new streets that had appeared overnight. There were traces of them, but Bruce could have sworn they had been closed down or remodeled years ago.

Some buildings have been built over the old roads too, around the industrial revolution. The expeandtion of Gotham also meant that some places were removed or added on. They vanished. They were redundant.

Someone or something had made those roads reappear, and the many abandoned places had vanished or been fixed simultaneously. The question is, why?

Why were they doing this to his city?

It made no sense.

Was it a warning that they were powerful enough to remove entire structures with anyone the wiser? Bruce did not like it. He hated it. With so many of the buildings gone or fixed up, it seemed that the city was less cluttered.

He could see across the city now, and it caused hives to break out on his skin. If they were this powerful, what could they do to people? To his kids?

"Bruce, we got something," Tim hisses from his right. He had ordered everyone to go into lockdown within the cave. He doubts that anything in here will stop universal manipulation but it made him feel better to have his kids with him. "Their in Crime Alley."

Babs is running eyes on Gotham. She was biting her lower lip so hard blood had started to slowly drip down her chin. She had been in the manor when the first changes had begun. After calling her father in a panic- apparently, the police force work to the dirty copies just admitting they were corrupted in mass hysteria- she decdied to remain at the cave in order to use the panic room.

James wasn't sure what was going on, but he rather his daughter be behind the best security measures money could buy. He remained at the prescient, handling half his department turning themselves in.

He had always been professional but he admited to Babs that he felt a specail terror at the sight of his men's eyes going foggy then watcthing them one by one form a line to enter the cells.

Once they were behind the bars, they started talking, detailing who they work for and where the proof was for their arrest. James had at first thought it was something like a new form of Fear Gas but after three hours they confirmed it to be true.

The sky had turned blue by that point, and the cloud of pollution was long gone. She could do nothing for her father who was out there, facing whatever monster was cleaning up the city.

Bruce pats her arm, gently squeezing until she realizes what he wants. Her jaw relaxes, lifting her teeth from her flesh. He hands her an ointment to put on it without comment, and she uncurls her hand from over her mouse to take it.

Babs nods at him, face still filled with stress, but there is a softness in the corner of her eyes. For all that, she wasn't his daughter- even if for a while he truly believed she would be a daughter-in-law back when she and Dick were together- he adored her like his own.

He doesn't need words to know she's grateful for him reminding her to be kinder to herself.

Bruce turns his attention back to the screen, hissing through his teeth when he witnesses a start to glow gently in a familiar green color before the graffiti vanishes. It doesn't desolved or gets wiped away.

One moment, it's there, marking the territory of various gangs, random hooligans, and some genuine art, and the next, it's gone. As if though it never existed.

"Zoom in" He commands. With a few taps on her keys, Babs does just that. The camera is one of the city's older models, so the image isn't the clearest, but regardless, she clicks the record option anyway.

The glowing green surrounds the words, before one blink to the next, gone. Then to the alarm of all the watchers the brikes, reshape to new, expanding slightly and even having a finsihes repainting.

"No," Tim whispers in horror and loss. "Not the condemned fire station where I had to get my first tetanus shot. There were so many rusty pipes there."

Bruce reaches out, bringing his silent child into his arms as he feels his own tears welled up. "I feel through that roof my first night as Batman. It's alright Tim, we will avenge it."

Bruce gently pats Tim's hair, feeling his boy hide his face into his chest like a young child seeking comfort. He knows Babs is heartbroken too. That fire station was the place she used to go to with a sledgehammer whenever she had a fight with an ex-lover.

It was her comfort rage place. Bruce had even bought Bab's very first sledgehammer and had watched he break down her very first pillar back in her first few weeks of Batgirl.

All those memories. Gone.

"Shit," She gasps as the glow expands towards the camera and the resolution suddenly sharpens. It's clear enough to be the newest modles. "City secuirties have been compromised! Aborting systems"

All the screen go black and the Gotham natives can only sit in horrified silince.

"What more can they take from us?"

Alfred rubs the space between his eyes. He stands at the top of the stairway, watching the three's interactions after raiding the kitchen with food for the rest of the family.

The cave was equipped for months in a lockdown, but Alfred wanted to get everything non-preventive before sealing them in. The rest of the kids were behind him, helping grab supplies. "Hopefully, they'll aim for your stupidity next."

________________________________________________________

"Daniel Fenton, if you don't stop playing that silly game and come do your chores, you can forget about going out this summer!"

"But Mom, I'm this close to clearing out the legal system's corruption! Just thirty more minutes, please!"

"Now, young man!"

Danny pouts, staring at the screen that was shown casting Gotham City. He had removed the crooked cops and the brided lawyers, but the judges, prison wardens, and even some of the jail prisoners needed to be dealt with.

He had just purchased a better security camera and street post for the worst part of the city, hoping to earn some points from lowering crime there.

"I guess I can distribute some wealth to the working class from the Court of Owls in the meantime." He mutters, opening his citizens' profiles. He clicks on groups, wrinkling his nose at the Court's karma status. "Lawfully evil, prepare to be under the law again."

He presses the start time and leans back. Cracking his neck and hands, Danny lets the scenario run. He just has to do the dishes, clean the lab, and mow the lawn. That should be enough for the four hours on the wait time to finish. He hopes this will lower the general public's stress levels.

Gotham will be so happy when she sees her character's happiness ratings. Danny thinks with a smile. I could even add some tourism. That should really get the people's bank accounts growing!

#dcxdpdabbles #dcxdp crossover #New Management #Part 2 #Danny is slowly becoming addicted to his new game.#He's been playing for a week #The people of Gotham are FREAKING OUT #His power looks kinda spooky in person #He's playing god but unaware of it

632 notes · View notes

makeitmingi · 2 months ago

Text

When Flowers Bloom In The Dark [Chapter 1]

Genre: Romance, Mafia!AU, Violence, Angst, Slow burn

Pairing: Hongjoong x Reader (y/n)

Characters: Florist!Reader, Mafioso!Hongjoong, Mafioso!Seonghwa, Mafioso!Yunho, Mafioso!Yeosang, Mafioso!San, Mafioso!Mingi, Mafioso!Wooyoung, Mafioso!Jongho

Summary: When you appeared and wept at his mother's funeral, Hongjoong found himself wanting to find out more about you. A regular girl, who owns a flower shop in his territory and has a relationship with the mother that he hasn't spoken to in years, why hasn't he ever noticed you before?

[Warning(s): 18+ for violence, use of weapons, smoking, alcohol consumption, slight gore, gang affiliation, tattoos and character deaths. Minors DNI. This is a work of fiction and does not represent the Ateez members in real life.]

Word count: 3.1K

(Chapter warning(s): Character death, grieving/ funeral, injury, recollection of previous argument, Hongjoong is in a weird place with his feelings.)

"Thank you for coming." Hongjoong had a stoic look on his face as he deeply bowed to the people that came to pay respects. The people bowed back, reaching out to shake his hand with a comforting smile on their faces.

"She was a good woman. Kind." They patted him on the shoulder. All he could do was stiffly nod in reply.

"Please help yourself to the food and refreshments." He forced a small smile and gestured to the buffet spread where the other people were all seated.

"Should we ask him to take a break?" Yunho leaned over to ask Seonghwa as the older collated the beoseom money together.

"You can try but he's not going to like it. Just let him do what he needs to do." Seonghwa replied.

"Hyung loved his mother. They didn't have the best relationship but I know he always missed seeing her and talking to her." Yunho sighed with a small frown. Seonghwa hummed in agreement.

"But this is for him to figure out. We'll just help him where he wants us." Seonghwa said.

Hongjoong recognised all the people that came. All friends of his late father and now, mother, or his own allies. They were men that worked for him or with him. Although they didn't know his mother at all, he knew that Wooyoung had gathered all their men to come and support him as the leader.

"Oh, coming." Hongjoong noticed some people going to pay their respects and went to his post as the son, keeping his head lowered as they bowed to his mother's casket.

"You have our condolences, Hongjoong sshi. If you need anything, let us know." The leader of a small gang shook his hand.

"Thanks." He nodded. Hongjoong knew their motive, it was to create favours and forge loyalties with Ateez.

"Umm, excuse me." Hongjoong looked up at the sudden entrance of a light, tinkling voice. He eyes fell on the girl that entered, she looked so different, sticking out like a sore thumb.

Who are you?

"Here you go." You took out an envelope of money and handed it to Yunho and Seonghwa, who received it with a bow.

"You can head that way." Seonghwa gestured to where Hongjoong was standing. From the looks of it, Seonghwa seemed just as entranced and/or curious about you as Hongjoong was. You nodded and headed to him.

"You must be Hongjoong sshi." You looked at him with familiarity, still cradling the small bouquet of flowers in your arms. All Hongjoong could do was nod.

How did you know him? He, for sure, didn't know you. There wasn't an inkling of recollection seeing your face or hearing your voice.

"If it's okay with you, can I place this bouquet by the casket? It's our favourite flower." You asked politely.

"Go ahead. Thank you." He nodded. 'Our' favourite? His eyes followed you as you placed the bouquet of white tulips by the casket. The bouquet was simple but elegant.

"I'll miss our afternoon chats. Take care of yourself and rest easy." You prayed softly as you bowed to his mother's casket.

"Thank you for coming." Hongjoong said to you when the both of you stood up from your kneeled positions.

"S-Sorry..." Your bottom lip quivered and tears streamed down your face as you struggled to wipe them all away. There was so much grief and upset on your face, you probably felt more grief than Hongjoong did. Hongjoong held his handkerchief out to you but you hesitated, you didn't know him to take it.

"It's okay." He whispered, trying to convince you. With a shaky hand, you took the white cloth and dried your tears. All this time, Hongjoong was trying to study you.

"Thanks." You smiled awkwardly.

"How do you know me? Did you know my mother?" He asked, even if the answer was obviously yes.

"She comes by my shop almost every afternoon to chat with me. She'll even bring tea and snacks with her. I recognise you from the photos she shared with me." You giggled.

"I see... Well-"

"Hongjoong hyung, there are more mourners. Do you want me to take over?" Someone came over.

"No, it's fine, San ah." Hongjoong assured his brother and bowed his head to you before going back to where the casket was. You tucked the handkerchief into your pocket.

"There are snacks and refreshments." You were directed to the area where the other mourners were chatting, eating and drinking. There were barely any other women around, all men dressed in suits. It almost felt like a business convention, not a funeral.

"Who is that?" Wooyoung asked San when he came back to where they were seated.

"No idea." San shook his head. The 7 Ateez members watched you with curiosity. You sat in the corner by yourself, you didn't take any food or drinks.

"Do any of you know her or recognise her?" Mingi blinked.

"I think she genuinely knew my mother." The boys looked up to see Hongjoong standing behind them.

"Really?" Even Seonghwa was shocked too. They all knew that everyone who came didn't know Hongjoong's mother. How did someone like you befriend Hongjoong's mother?

"She's definitely not from underground." Yeosang said. You were still wiping stray tears that escaped your eyes.

"She's... really grieving the lost of my mother... Even more than me." Hongjoong observed.

"Her name is (y/n)." Yunho said, reading from the mourners book of those that came. The others didn't even notice that Hongjoong left them, going over to where you were seated alone. When Hongjoong pulled out the chair next to yours, you blinked, breaking out of your reminiscing moment.

"Apologies." He said.

"Don't apologise, you must be busy having to do this on your own, on top of the fact that you're mourning and grieving too." You shook your head with a soft smile.

"I have a good support system." He nodded over to where the other Ateez members were.

"You must haven known my mother well to know her favourite flower." Hongjoong brought the conversation back.

"She always came to buy them from me, along with other flowers. That's when I learnt that we both have the same favourite flower. I'm a florist actually." You informed.

"Oh... And here, I didn't even know my mother had a favourite flower." He chuckled.

"Hongjoong sshi." You shocked him and frankly, yourself too, when you placed a hand over his own in comfort.

"I'll miss her too but it'll be okay. From the way your mother spoke fondly of you, I could tell that you both had a great relationship. At least you'll still have your good memories of her with you." You smiled softly. Suddenly, Hongjoong retracted his hand.

"Excuse me." He stood up, buttoning his blazer. He watched as your face fell.

"Hongjoong sshi. I-I'm sorry." You stuttered, realising what you just said to him and how your words crossed a boundary. Hongjoong clenched his jaw and walked back to where Ateez was.

"Woah, hyung. You okay?" Jongho asked, noticing the sudden change in Hongjoong's mood and expression.

"I'm fine." Hongjoong replied through gritted teeth.

Despite what happened, you still stayed until the final standoff. Hongjoong was unexpectedly hypervigilant of where you were, standing on your own at the back of the crowd.

"Hang on." Before the Ateez boys could load his mother's casket into the back of the hearse, he stopped them.

"Captain?" They were confused. Leaning down, Hongjoong grabbed a stalk of flower from your bouquet and placed it on top.

"Carry on." He cleared his throat, side eyeing you. You were watching the entire time as you cried softly to yourself. All the mourners that hadn't left bowed to the hearse as it closed. Hongjoong, still holding his mother's picture, walked to the front seats where he would follow along to the burial site.

"We'll follow behind, hyung." Wooyoung said to him. Hongjoong nodded and entered with Mingi closing the door behind him. The 7 entered their respective vans that were prepared.

As the hearse began to pull out of the drive way, Hongjoong spotted you walking along the streets, arms hugging yourself.

"Who are you?" He whispered as you walked further away.

When the news of his mother's passing first came until this moment, Hongjoong hadn't shed a tear. Was he cruel or unfilial for not doing so? Or were tears just a sign of weakness?

"Good memories?" Hongjoong turned to his mother's picture, remembering what you said to him.

You sighed as you made your way into your apartment. After you removed your shoes, you fell back onto the couch.

"I can't believe you're gone." You said, feeling tears well up in your eyes again as you thought about Mrs Kim and her not being around any longer. Maybe because you grew up without a mother, she was the closest thing to a mother that you had.

"Can I help you?" The doorman asked when he saw how confused you were upon entering the building.

"Oh, good morning. Sorry to bother you but I'm looking for Mrs Kim? I hope I have the right address." You scratched your head, bowing to the older male.

"Do you mean the Mrs Kim that stays in the penthouse? I'm sorry but she passed away yesterday." He informed.

"W-Wait, what?" You couldn't believe it. The flower bouquet slipping from your hands.

"Are you okay, agashi? Yes, unfortunately, Mrs Kim passed." He picked up the bouquet, placing a hand on your shoulder. It was so shocking you couldn't even cry.

"Are you family?" He asked. It took you a while to answer as the news was still sinking in.

"N-No... I'm not but I knew her..." You tried your best to form a coherant answer in your head but it was too difficult.

"I'm sorry, agashi." He said sadly. You bowed your head and turned around, leaving the building. When you reached home, you searched funeral homes online and there it was, her name and her picture. It only solidified that what the doorman said was true, the closest person to a mother that you've had was gone.

"I can't believe I said that. (y/n), what did you do?" You facepalmed when you remembered what you said to Hongjoong. Who were you to tell him that?

"He's her real son, you're not." You scolded yourself, holding Hongjoong handkerchief in your lap.

Mrs Kim always spoke about Hongjoong with such a sad smile, indicating that their relationship wasn't amicable.

There was love, of course. But you could hear the regret and guilt in her voice. All you knew was that if you were to run into him again, you'll definitely apologise for overstepping.

Hongjoong seemed cold but you were grateful that he placed one of your flowers on top of her casket before the hearse left. Whether it was done for you or for her, Hongjoong's gesture warmed your heart.

"Where's he?" Seonghwa asked as he climbed up the stairs to the second floor. The younger ones nodded over to Hongjoong's back. The captain leaned against the banister of the terrace, a glass of whiskey held by his fingertips.

"He's still there. Been there since we've come back." Yeosang informed.

"(y/n) (y/l/n). She's a florist in Hongjoong hyung's territory, studying botany part time. Practically as normal as it gets." Jongho walked over, closing a folder. Seonghwa took it and read it.

"As long as she isn't a threat." San shrugged.

"Far from. If there was a motive for her to get close to Mrs Kim, it's not in the file." Jongho said, pouring himself a drink.

"But damn, she seemed to be closer to Mrs Kim than Hongjoong hyung was." Mingi stated and Seonghwa slapped the back of his head for being so direct.

"What? It's the truth..." Mingi rubbed his head. Yunho sighed, patting his best friend's back.

"Hyung will be fine, right? He has to be. He's our captain and our leader. Let's just give him some time then he'll bounce back like always." Wooyoung said with a small frown. Seonghwa nodded in agreement. Although Hongjoong suppresses his feelings and emotions, he always puts Ateez first.

"Yes, Hongjoong will be okay. He just needs space now. And don't bring up the girl anymore, okay?" Seonghwa said. The younger 6 nodded their heads obediently.

"Hyung, what happened between Hongjoong hyung and his mother?" San asked.

"No idea. Even if I did, it's not my story to tell." Seonghwa shrugged.

He is Hongjoong's best friend and second in command, but he didn't know what was Hongjoong's relationship with his mother. It was almost a love-hate relationship, for Hongjoong at least.

"Go back to work. Give Hongjoong a few days off, I'll be taking over his duties in the mean time." Seonghwa informed.

"Sure, hyung." All of them split up to go back to work. Seonghwa cast one more worried glance at his best friend's back before leaving.

Hongjoong sighed as he took another sip of whiskey. Even as he shovelled the dirt over his mother's casket, he didn't shed a tear. The heartache was there but he couldn't will himself to cry. He watched as the flower he placed on top got sullied by the dirt.

"She's really gone." He breathed out.

"You're really gone." He repeated as if he was speaking directly to his mother, clenching the glass in his hand.

You, the girl that appeared out of nowhere, seemed to have a much better relationship with his mother than he did. You cried while Hongjoong was emotionless.

"Damn it." Hongjoong must have channeled all his frustration to his hand because before he knew it, the crystal shattered into pieces.

"Hyung!" Yeosang rushed out, having seen the whole thing.

"I'm fine, Yeosang." Hongjoong hissed, cradling his now injured hand. Yeosang gently took it into his own hands, looking at how bad is was. Blood began to drip on the tiles.

"No, it's not fine. There's crystal shards in your hand now. Come." Yeosang frowned and brought Hongjoong in.

"Get someone to clean the terrace." Yeosang said to a passing butler, who nodded with a deep bow. He brought the captain to his office where his medical supplies were. Thankfully, Hongjoong didn't protest and sat down, patiently waiting for Yeosang to get what he needed to treat his hand.

"Don't move." Yeosang said as he took forceps and tried to remove the crystal pieces from the cuts. Luckily it wasn't too deep that he would need stitches.

"Are you not going to ask me anything?" Hongjoong asked as Yeosang took a magnifier to look for any smaller pieces.

"No. What's there to ask?" Yeosang asked back. At that, Hongjoong sighed and just leaned back in the seat.

"This is going to sting. Bear with me." Yeosang took the antiseptic and spray it over Hongjoong's hand, causing the leader to let out an onslaught of curse words and winces.

"I saw the butler cleaning glass on the terrace. What happened?" San came in.

"Just a small accident." Hongjoong sighed again, watching Yeosang use gauze to wrap up his hand.

"We're done. If it starts to bleed through the bandages, you have to get them changed. If not then I'll check on them in a few days." Yeosang said as he used clips and medical tape to secure the bandage. Hongjoong nodded and stood up.

"Thanks, Sangie." He left Yeosang's room. San stared at where their captain disappeared to.

"Everyone deals with grief differently, whether they want to admit it or not." San said and Yeosang let out a hum in agreement, clearing the bloodied gauze and area.

"He'll be okay. Hyung is strong." Yeosang assured.

When Hongjoong went upstairs to go back to his room, he walked past the second floor lounge and saw a file there.

'(y/n) (y/l/n)'

So, the boys went to search up on you and who you were. Reaching down, Hongjoong took the file and tucked it under his arm, retreating to his room.

"Florist... Studies botany... That's it?" He read the file as he walked. If there was anything else, even secrets, he knew Jongho and Yunho would have found it by now. No piece of information escapes those two. They can source information about a person's entire life on their computers, it's why they're the best.

"Oh?" Hongjoong paused, eyebrows raising when he saw the location of your shop. It was in the territory that he took care of, which was also the area where his mother's house was.

Despite that, Hongjoong has never once visited his mother nor has he spoken to her in years.

"How could you do this? How could you do this to me?! To us?!" Hongjoong yelled, seething with so much anger.

"I know... I'm a horrible mother, I'm sorry Hongjoong ah." His mother shook her head, tears in her eyes as she faced her angry son. She didn't even bother to give an excuse.

"Why?! Why would you do this?" He faced her, his own tears streaming down his cheeks.

"I couldn't just standby and watch. I couldn't." The woman wrapped her arms around herself pitifully. This time, Hongjoong didn't hug her.

"After everything, you'll still side with him. After knowing what he did to all of us, including you, you still..." Hongjoong shook his head, unable to finish his sentence. He was just filled with so much rage he couldn't even breathe properly.

"Get out. I never want to see you again." He turned away, hearing her soft footsteps leave his office and disappear.

"Seonghwa." Hongjoong called out, knowing that his second in command was standing nearby and most probably overheard the entire exchange that happened.

"Yeah?" Seonghwa walked in.

"I want her out of here now. Buy her a house or whatever, somewhere I don't have to see her." Hongjoong ordered.

"Sure, Hongjoong." Seonghwa bowed his head and exited the office. Hongjoong let out a yell, angrily swiping everything off his desk. Papers flews and things broke but he didn't care.

Seonghwa ended up buying his mother a penthouse apartment in the territory that Hongjoong managed. Although Hongjoong didn't like that idea, Seonghwa gave an excuse that at least Hongjoong could keep an eye on her.

He didn't know that Seonghwa did that so if he ever wanted to see his mother again or let her make amends for what she did, he'll know where she is.

But it was too late anyway. Hongjoong's mother was gone, there were no more amends to make, no more apologies.

"Great relationship? Good memories?" Hongjoong bitterly scoffed once again when he remembered your words, throwing your file aside and going to take a much needed shower.

He needed to get out of his head.

Series masterlist

412 notes · View notes

ckret2 · 5 months ago

Text

Chapter 54 of everybody being really eager to kill their prisoner human Bill Cipher for good: the gang's trying a new way to create fuel for the one weapon guaranteed to destroy Bill.

It goes so great.

As Ford drove to Northwest Manor, Dipper skimmed through the introduction to Flatworld, where Edward Bishop Bishop was pretending that his book had been dictated to him by a sentient square; but he couldn't focus on it. He sighed, shut the book, and stared out the passenger window at the passing trees.

"Something on your mind?" Ford asked.

"I'm thinking about the Axolotl's poem again. The one about Bill."

"Ah. Still trying to remember the rest?"

"Kinda. Mabel and I are working on it together," Dipper said. "But it's not that. I've just been wondering... what if the poem is... you know, part of a prophecy about Bill or something? Mabel remembered another line of the poem—'A different form, a different time.' What if the Axolotl was telling us why Bill's back as a human? Maybe we need him here—to, to use his powers to fight off a bigger threat or something. Do you think that's possible?" He held back another question: what happens if we kill him before then?

Ford frowned thoughtfully. "I've been thinking about the Axolotl as well," he said. "About the worlds I visited that called it a god of criminals, tyrants, and luck. That sounds to me like the exact kind of being that would be Bill's ally. And it's odd how resistant Bill was to telling us anything about the Axolotl, when it simply passed over town for a few seconds and then moved on. Why the secrecy? How does Bill think it benefits him for us not to know about it?" Ford shook his head. "I think you're on to something, Dipper—I think whatever the Axolotl told you is important. The question is: important for whom?"

Dipper's stomach turned. The Axolotl had radiated such kindness; it was hard for Dipper to believe it could be up to anything evil with Bill. But then—Dipper clutched at Flatworld with the damning biography on the back—but then, how many people had Bill himself fooled with the benevolent teacher act?

Dipper understood now why "Don't Trust Bill" had so quickly turned into "Trust No One." Even when you knew that there was only one real enemy—even when you knew that most people out there were still reasonably honest and friendly—you could never tell just how far Bill's shadow stretched. "I guess that's true. We can't really know."

"We can't know yet. But it is worth trying to figure out," Ford said. "I wish I could tell you where to start looking for answers. For now... we'll just have to consider anything possible."

Ford was right. But all the same, every time Dipper paranoidly asked himself What if Grunkle Ford is right, what if the Axolotl really is on Bill's side, a second, even more paranoid, even more worried voice asked, But what if he isn't?

####

When they arrived, Fiddleford was already in his lab, hard at work on the miniature particle accelerator they'd come to see him about.

"The paradox what was powering it started yowling" Fiddleford said. "So obviously it ain't a paradox no more."

Ford grimaced. "That does lay to rest whether the cat is alive or dead."

"Sure does," Fiddleford said, sighing. "So I let the cat outside and I'm rebuilding the whole contraption to run on a more robust paradox. I hope you've got better news for me, Stanford."

"We hope so too. I think Dipper might have the solution to our fuel generation problem."

They briefly explained Dipper's unfortunate puppet incident last summer—Fiddleford had to take a break in the middle to grab a cup of coffee, "To steady my nerves,"—its ongoing effects on his sleep, and the new developments of the last few days, culminating in Dipper learning how to project his soul out of his body—

—which, Ford now realized, he probably should have expected Fiddleford to take poorly.

"Sweet sasparilla!" Fiddleford kicked over his chair while jumping onto the nearest table. "You're dead?!"

"What?" Dipper said. "No, I—"

"You're like a ghost possessing a zombie!"

Dipper thought that over. "Whoa..."

But, even though Fiddleford thought the whole affair went against the rightful order of the world, he agreed that it was a sound idea and worth trying. "It's lucky that my tater tot and I hunted out all the ghosts in this place during our spring cleaning," he said, opening a cabinet. He retrieved what looked like a pair of vacuums redesigned to be worn like backpacks with an assortment of random electronics dangling from wires. He held up a set of goggles and headphones hanging off one of the vacuums. "I invented these doohickeys that'll let you see and hear ghosts! They'll let us keep in contact with Dipper while he's out of his body." He set the vacuums on a table near the miniature particle accelerator and said, "First, though—Stanford, I need you to help me rebuild this machine."

"Of course." Ford turned away from the vacuum he'd been inspecting to look at the miniature particle accelerator.

Dipper said, "Wait, there are other ghosts in this mansion?"

"Yep!"

"I hunted one at the Northwests' big party last year," Dipper said. "How many more ghosts are in here?"

"We've caught, oh... thirty or forty so far."

"Seriously? That's amazing." Dipper was already thinking about the amazing Ghost Harassers episode this place could have been. Maybe even a miniseries.

"Aw, it weren't that hard. If you leave the TV on, they like to flock around it to watch. All you've gotta do is hide in the corner until a whole big bunch of 'em are gathered 'round—and then ya get them!"

"Oh," Dipper said. "Huh. I just tricked one into getting trapped in a silver mirror."

"Well, that's right impressive too. I never woulda thunk of that," Fiddleford said. "Me and Tate have been sucking them into cooling pouches in these here vacuums and then sticking the pouches in a chest freezer down in the dungeon! Maybe I oughta line the freezer with silver."

"This place has a dungeon?" Dipper asked.

Before Fiddleford could respond, Ford asked, "Which parts are we replacing?" He was inspecting the miniature particle accelerator.

"All of them!"

Ford gave Fiddleford a surprised look. "All of them?"

"Yep! Every last one!"

"Is the design changing that much?"

"Nope! It's staying exactly the same!"

"Then... why can't we just use the same machine we already have?"

"We will be using the same machine!" Fiddleford smiled mischievously. "Or will we?"

"Ah! I see! The particle accelerator of Theseus," Ford said. "Very clever."

"And kinder on the local stray cats, I reckon."

Dipper offered his assistance, but the work involved too much welding and buzzsawing for him to try untrained, so he was directed to sit a safe distance away with the first aid kit. At least it gave him a chance to read some more. He had to shove aside a couple flashlights and the glue grenade to reach where the slim book had slid to the bottom of his backpack during their walk from the car.

He skimmed over some of the worldbuilding looking for the story before he realized the story was the wordbuilding and looped back. It was a lot bleaker than he expected, even after Mabel's warning. Rigid class system, oppressive government, all kinds of horrifying shape prejudices... Frustrating dream visits to the ignorant line people in the first dimension who didn't believe in the second dimension, and to the self-absorbed King Zero in the point-sized zeroth dimension who thought a whole universe was contained inside him... A just as frustrating visit from a sphere who simply couldn't explain the third dimension in a way the square protagonist could understand, which was even more annoying since the square had just seen how the first dimension couldn't comprehend the second for the same reasons, so why couldn't he accept the possibility of a third dimension he couldn't imagine? Dipper got that it was supposed to be a metaphor to help three-dimensional readers understand that not being able to visualize a fourth dimension didn't mean it was impossible; but still. Come on, man. Don't be stupid.

On the other hand, at least now Dipper had a framework to understand the concept of higher dimensions and probably a leg up on next year's geometry. Would high school geometry cover four-dimensional space?

After a couple of hours of work and a break for lunch, the miniature particle accelerator was rebuilt and ready for another attempt to generate fuel. Fiddleford pulled on one of his ghost vacuums like a backpack, put on the set of connected headphones and goggles, and settled his glasses on over the goggles. "Y'all ready?"

"Ready," Ford said. He was seated at the accelerator's monitors, holding the jug that would contain any NowUSeeitNowUDontium they generated, and wearing the other vacuum—with the goggles over his glasses, and he was a bit worried about how Fiddleford had positioned his.

"Ready," Dipper said, a tad less certainly. What if he couldn't do it today? What if he'd never actually been able to do it last night and the whole thing really had been a dream?

But Fiddleford flipped the accelerator's power on, stepped back, and said, "All right! Do your thing!"

"Okay." Dipper stared straight at the machine, and—eugh—thought about degloving his body from his soul, peeling out of his skin fingers first.

This was only the second time he'd left his body deliberately. He'd observed in the past that the mindscape was strangely gray and still compared to the real world—but he'd never realized just how stark and swift the change was, like all the color and warmth had been abruptly sucked from reality. He shivered.

Ford inhaled sharply. Fiddleford stumbled back against the nearest table and yelped, "Flipping flapjacks!"

"You can both still see me?" Dipper said. "Can you hear me, too?"

"Loud and clear," Ford said.

"Like the voices of the dead." Fiddleford shuddered. "Welp, let's get this over with. I don't like all this ghost business. It ain't natural."

Ford gave him an amused look. "Since when have you ever been concerned about what's 'natural'? Didn't the engineering club vote you 'most likely to build a robot that flies in the face of God'?"

"You hush! There's nothing unnatural about iron, electromagnetism, and flamethrowers."

Dipper studied his body's face, its eyes pointed blankly toward the particle accelerator. "Well, I'm looking at the experiment, but I'm definitely not thinking about it. I think that's half of the paradox?"

"That's right," Fiddleford said. "Now, you just—float yerself on over to the other side of the accelerator, and think about it without looking at it."

"Right." Dipper positioned himself directly across the accelerator from his body, shut his eyes, and tried to think experimental thoughts. He didn't know much about Dontium besides what Ford had written about it in Journal 3—that it was inert when you were looking at it and radioactive when you weren't—so, if the miniature particle accelerator generated any, would he get blasted with radiation? Or was his body staring at the accelerator enough to keep it inert? But no—it was supposed to fill up the jug Ford was holding, right? Ford was observing it. Dipper tried to imagine what must be happening inside the accelerator; how did it work, would particles spontaneously generate in the tubes? Maybe they circled around until they fell into the hose to the jug...

He heard Ford gasp. "Fiddleford, look at this— Don't listen to me Dipper, just keep—keep thinking whatever you were thinking!"

"Is it working?"

"It was! Don't let us distract you."

Dipper tried to ignore the sound of Fiddleford running over to Ford, and started humming to drown out their hushed conversation. That was good, right? It meant the experiment was working. Keep thinking about that—experiment. Experiment. Expeeeriment. ... He wondered if trying to do the experiment by putting himself and Tyrone on either side of the accelerator would have worked, or if it had to be Dipper's soul and his body—

"Hot diggety!" Fiddleford shouted. "We've reached critical mass!"

"What does that mean, is it bad?" Dipper opened one eye a crack, trying to squint enough that he couldn't see the particle accelerator. "Is it gonna explode?"

Ford explained, "It means we've generated enough Dontium that it can sustain its own existence. Now, even if you get distracted, what we've already generated will remain. It can only go up from here."

"Wow," Dipper said. "That only took, what, a couple of minutes?"

"Less than that! During our last attempt, we tried for hours without reaching critical mass," Ford said. "Your idea was right on the money. Excellent work, Dipper."

Dipper grinned. After all that anxiety, it was almost a letdown how easy it was, but the coolness factor made up for it. He could just imagine the conversations the first week of high school: What did I do over summer break? Oh, nothing much. Just synthesized a new element. To fuel a weapon custom-designed to kill an immortal chaos god. And did I mention I was a ghost at the time? It didn't quite top last summer's adventures, but...

Then something went wrong.

There was a noise halfway between the electric buzz of a tesla coil and the rip of Velcro being torn apart. A stench like burning hair filled the air. A line of shifting colorful light began worming its way out of the center of the particle accelerator and up into the air.

"Oh no. Ohhh no!" Fiddleford grabbed his head. "The micro-rips! The threadbare fabric of reality! Our experiment put too much of a strain on it! We tore straight through!" One foot bounced agitatedly, "Ohhh, I knew I shoulda run some calculations before substituting in Dipper for you and Stanley."

Dipper gasped as the line of light began to agonizingly stretch open wider. Reality began seeping over its edges and dripping through into the kaleidoscopic miasma beyond. It developed a second horizontal rip across its middle as reality stretched beyond endurance in multiple directions. "What—is that?" He was afraid he knew.

"A dimensional rift," Fiddleford said.

"The Nightmare Realm," said Ford.

The last frayed thread holding reality together snapped apart, and the rift tore open wide, fully exposing the Earth to the roaring roiling chaos beyond.

They screamed.

"Hello?" A giant set of dentures with stubby arms and legs leaned through the rift. "Oh hey! Aren't you the guys that killed Bill?"

They screamed again.

"Is screaming how humans say hi?" the monster asked. "I'm Teeth. Aaah!" He turned toward Ford. "Hey! Fingers! Lookin' less electrocuted than the last time I saw you—"

Ford socked Teeth in the incisor, knocking him back through the rift. "Back, you! You and your 'friends' are not welcome in this dimension!"

"Ow. What the heck, man."

Fiddleford shouted, "Don't stop observing the Dontium!" He bounded across the room on all four to scoop up the milk jug and stare at it.

Ford nearly toppled through the rift, and had to grab onto the miniature particle accelerator as the heaviest nearby object to anchor himself. The rift sucked on reality like a vacuum, and the longer it was open the more powerful it grew.

Over the roar of the rift, Dipper yelled "What do we do?!"

"We have to seal it! Before it sucks all of Gravity Falls into the Nightmare Realm!"

"How?!"

Last summer, the instant Bill had no longer been around to maintain the dimensional rift, it had also sucked reality into it, starting with everything that properly belonged in the Nightmare Realm; but then it had also quickly sealed itself back shut. On the other hand, this rift was just opening wider and wider. Maybe it wasn't like the rift Bill had used to enter Gravity Falls, then? Maybe it was structured more like the wormholes that had been left behind after Weirdmageddon—

"I've got it!" Ford picked up Dipper's body—trying not to shudder at how lifeless it felt—and unzipped his backpack. "Is the alien adhesive grenade still in here?"

"It should be! Let me see." Dipper floated over to peer into his backpack.

The rift was already strong enough to drag at Ford's clothing. The lightest objects in the room lifted into the air and were sucked through. Papers. Pencils. Coffee mugs. Dipper's soul.

He screamed. "GRUNKLE FORD!"

"Dipper!" Ford grabbed for Dipper's ankle, but his hand passed right through. Ford's blood ran cold as Dipper tumbled head over heels into the Nightmare Realm.

"Look at that," Teeth said, watching Dipper soar by. "Dinner delivery."

There was no difference between the mindscape and reality in the Nightmare Realm, if Ford followed Dipper through he'd be able to get a grip on Dipper there. But how would he carry Dipper back to Earth without him melting through Ford's grasp the moment they were through the rift? Didn't matter, grab Dipper first, then figure it out—

Fiddleford shoved the jug of Dontium in Ford's hands as he ran past. "Watch over this!"

"What—!"

Fiddleford jumped into the Nightmare Realm, the end of a long extension cord tied around his waist. He stretched out the hose of his ghost vacuum and flipped a switch, and with a yelp Dipper's soul was sucked inside. Ford gasped in relief.

Trying to keep as much of his attention on the potentially-radioactive jug as possible, Ford reeled Fiddleford back in, shoved the jug in his hands, and dug into Dipper's backpack again until he found the alien adhesive grenade. He pulled the pin and chucked it through the rift. "Duck!"

He shielded Dipper's body and Fiddleford shielded the Dontium jug as the grenade exploded. Even so, the force of it blew aside everything within ten feet of the rift and sent both of them sprawling. When Ford glanced back over his shoulder, the adhesive had gummed up the opening of the rift like a popped glowing magenta bubblegum bubble; and as he watched, it sucked the opening shut. In a few seconds the air was still and quiet, and the only sign the rift had ever existed was an immense, jagged vertical line in the air around which the light refracted wrong.

Fiddleford gingerly got back to his knees, then pulled off his glasses and pushed up his goggles. One of the lenses had been crushed, and the glasses' frame was bent beyond repair.

Ford heaved a long, heavy sigh. "A bit too familiar, wasn't it?"

Fiddleford blinked at him. "Wasn't what?"

"The—reeling you in from the Nightmare Realm?" Ford said. At Fiddleford's blank look, Ford said, "The portal test?"

"Oh." Fiddleford scratched his head. "I... still don't remember it too clearly."

"Ah. Yes. Of course." Ford's stomach churned with guilt as he looked away from Fiddleford. Over thirty years late was too late to apologize, wasn't it? (Over the past year he'd wondered, again and again; and again and again he'd decided that it was.) "Thank you for saving—" He gasped, "Dipper!"

"Oh, right!" Fiddleford took off his vacuum, dropped it on the floor, and unzipped its bag. The ghosts of a Northwest in a buckskin coat and a confused-looking hippie escaped into the air. "Hey," Fiddleford barked. "You get back here!" He raised the vacuum's hose and flipped its switch. He caught the hippie, but as soon as she was sucked in she flew out the unzipped bag and off to freedom again. Fiddleford lowered the hose and shook a fist at the retreating spirits. "I'll get you ectoplasmic varmints, just you wait!"

Ford knelt on the floor and held the bag open wider. Dipper floated out, arms crossed tight and shivering. "So... so cold... and dark... and really, really dusty."

"Let's get you back where you belong."

Ford held up Dipper's body as he lay back down in it. He could see the moment color flooded back into Dipper's cheeks and his eyes focused again. Dipper groaned.

Ford said, "You're never doing that again."

"I am never doing that again," Dipper said.

"We can't do that again," Fiddleford said. "The fabric of reality in this town is too unstable to handle another paradoxical physics experiment that powerful! We'd rip open another rift to the Nightmare Realm!"

"And we just tossed away all of our remaining alien adhesive," Ford sighed. It left Gravity Falls vulnerable if any more rips formed. Sometime soon he'd have to go back to the alien crash site and see if there was any more adhesive he could scrounge up; but even if he did, they couldn't risk wasting more of it like this.

"But did we get what we needed?" Dipper asked.

Fiddleford held up the milk jug of Dontium and shook it. It had a strange shifting color, wavering between cyan and orange depending on the lighting. "Looks like we got about three-fourths of a gallon," Fiddleford said.

"It's only enough to fully power one shot," Ford said. "But... one shot is all it'll take to destroy Bill." His stomach flipped nervously as he said it. He'd been anxious every other time he'd prepared to kill Bill, but that had always been because he'd been preparing to battle for the fate of the universe with a godlike monster who could easily kill him or worse. For the first time, he was preparing to execute a defenseless prisoner, and he didn't know whether it would make the universe any safer.

For half the summer he'd hoped Bill was harmless. Now he wished he had proof that Bill wasn't, so that he could lay his conscience to rest.

Dipper looked as uncomfortable as Ford felt; but when he caught Ford's gaze, he hardened his expression and nodded. Ford nodded back.

"WOOHOO!" Fiddleford leaped his full height straight up, making Ford and Dipper start. "We done it! YAHOO!" He waved his hat around ecstatically, doing a little jig in place. "YIPPEE! HIP HIP HURRrr—hey, how come you fellers ain't celebrating?"

Ford didn't know how to explain without making Fiddleford worry he was at risk of falling under Bill's spell again. "We'll celebrate when he's dead."

####

"Who was at the door?" 8 Ball shouted. When he didn't get a response, he paused his game. "Teeth?"

Teeth waddled into the game room. His face was completely plastered shut with some kind of glowing purple glue.

Pyronica cracked up and Paci-Fire chuckled darkly. 8 Ball sighed, "What'd you get into, you idiot?"

Teeth waved his hands emphatically.

"All right, okay." 8 Ball stood and stretched. "Does anyone have the number of that lamp guy Bill used to hook up with?"

Half an hour later, having lured over Lava Lamp Guy with the false promise of ping pong pool and illicit liquids, they cornered him in a bathroom, with Zanthar sitting in the tub restraining him while Paci-Fire struggled to hold his face still.

"Please!" Lava Lamp Guy screamed. "Let me go! I'll do anything you want! My neurologist said I can't take much more of this!"

"Cease your complaints," Paci-Fire said, as 8 Ball took off Lava Lamp Guy's bowler. "You shall not dissuade us. We do this because we have no choice in the matter."

"Why not?!"

"Because none of us feel like making the trip to a dimension with a drugstore."

8 Ball stuck a soup ladle into the open top of Lava Lamp Guy's head and fished around until he got a scoop of the red goo floating around in the thinner orange liquid. Lava Lamp Guy howled in agony. Zanthar heaved a weary sigh.

8 Ball carried the ladle over to where Teeth was sitting on the toilet lid kicking his feet. "Here you go, bud."

Teeth clapped his hands, grabbed an oversized toothbrush, and held it out for 8 Ball to pour the goop on. He scrubbed his teeth until the goop dissolved the adhesive. "Whew!" He stretched his jaw a few times, then jumped to his feet. "Thanks! I was worried I was gonna miss karaoke night." He looked in the sink mirror to scrub off the remaining scraps of adhesive.

8 Ball put Lava Lamp Guy's hat back on. Lava Lamp Guy groaned, "I think I forgot my third husband."

"You've only been married twice," Hectorgon lied.

"Oh." Confused, Lava Lamp Guy said, "Alright."

Teeth muttered, "Blech, divorce memories." He grabbed a bottle of mouthwash to clear out the taste.

"So what happened?" Kryptos asked. He was hovering in the doorway beside Pyronica.

"I'unno. I think the Dimension 46ers were messing around with their portal or something? They opened up a portal here."

"What? Uh-uh," Pyronica said. "It had to be some other dimension. We just invaded them, why would they open the portal again?"

"No no, that sounds like humans to me," Kryptos said. "If one of them pushes a button and immediately dies, the guy standing next to him will go, 'I wonder if it does that every time.' I've seen them do it."

"It was definitely them, I saw that local contractor Bill recruited for the portal who went nuts. Fingers or whoever."

8 Ball groaned. "You mean the guy that invaded the Quadrangle and tried to kill everybody?"

"Yeah. That guy. He told me I wasn't welcome on Earth and chucked a glue bomb in my face. I was like, well alright, buddy, I'm not the one who opened up a portal in your house, you could have just stayed home instead of ruining my day," Teeth said. "I didn't really say that to him. I thought it."

"So now the humans are invading us." Pyronica threw her hands in the air. "Great! This is just terrific! Bill teaches them how to make their own portals, they follow us home, and now we're about to have a pest problem that knows how to use tools! How long is it until this whole place is crawling with humans?! I'm going househunting, how many rooms should I look for? 8 Ball?"

"I'm in."

"Teeth?"

Teeth sighed, but said, "Yeah. The neighborhood's going downhill. Especially if we're gonna have a pest problem."

"Big Z?"

Zanthar gave a thumbs up.

Pyronica looked at Paci-Fire. He averted his gaze. Pyronica said, "Paci?"

Sullenly, he said, "We should ask Keyhole's opinion as well."

She laughed in disbelief. Nobody cared about Keyhole's opinion, he went with whatever everyone else went with. Appealing to Keyhole was just a delaying tactic. "Fine, sure. We'll get Keyhole's opinion."

"I'm not going," Hectorgon said, crossing his arms.

Relieved, Kryptos said, "Yeah. Me neither."

"You don't have to," Pyronica snapped. "You two and Morph can wait for Bill to come back from the dead as long as you want. But the rest of us are leaving."

Kryptos tilted toward the hall, gesturing for Hectorgon to follow him away from the others. "How long do you think we can hold this place without the outerplanars?" The Quadrangle was all that remained of Bill's turf. Without Bill's energy boosting them, none of the shapes were particularly powerful. They'd always depended upon the other Henchmaniacs to guard Bill's stronghold, the heavy-hitters like Zanthar and Pyronica. Even Bill preferred to let them fight his battles when he could; Bill's energy was much vaster, but less renewable.

Hectorgon grimaced uncertainly. "We've gotta think of something fast."

####

Dipper stared at the jug in his lap, ensuring it didn't turn radioactive before they got home. Bill practically seemed to have a radar for Ford—and on top of that, could see through walls—but as far as he cared Dipper may as well have not even existed; so they'd decided that Ford would go in the main door to ensure Bill's attention was turned away while Dipper went through the gift shop and took the elevator down to Ford's study. Ford had told Dipper where to find a lead locker that would keep the Dontium contained until Ford could use it to refuel the Quantum Destabilizer; all he had to do was put it in and stare through the crack until he'd slammed the door shut.

And once they'd decided on that, the drive home had fallen deathly silent.

As the Mystery Shack appeared through the trees, Dipper asked, "We're doing the right thing, right?" His voice was quiet. "I hate him, but—we owe him our lives. And there's that prophecy..."

"Lives can't be owed," Ford said. "Yesterday he may have saved us, but tomorrow he would still destroy our world in a heartbeat. We can be grateful to be alive—but we can't let that stop us."

"So, we're doing the right thing?"

Ford was silent for much longer than Dipper would have liked. "I hope so."

####

(We're moving toward some important stuff!! Hope y'all enjoyed and I'm looking forward to hearing your thoughts on this week's chapter!)

#dipper pines #stanford pines #grunkle ford #fiddleford mcgucket #henchmaniacs #(for the art & chapter)#bill cipher #human bill cipher #(who doesn't make an appearance in this chapter but the whole fic's about him and nobody can shut up about him so he's getting tagged)#(is this the first chapter bill hasn't appeared in?? might be)#gravity falls #gravity falls fic #gravity falls fanart #fanart #my art #my writing #bill goldilocks cipher

523 notes · View notes

livin4woso · 3 months ago

Text

Scarred for life (mapi x ingrid x leon!Reader)

Summary - When mapis' younger sister decides to come drop off some clothes, she had stolen off her older sister she ends up interrupting something she shouldn't have, and it leaves her slightly scarred.

You hadn't thought anything of it it was a normal day off, no special occasion or any media, just a random Thursday. You had borrowed mapis jacket a couple of days ago for a photo shoot and decided to return it. However, you had your own key to the place, and you had shown up unexpectedly to her and ingirds apartment many of times, and there had been no issues until today.

You were mapis younger sister, and she raised you to be just like her, a footballer. You had grown up idolising her, and you had captured the football world by storm as the lèon sisters a formidable pairing, some even referring to you as the brick wall of Barcelona. It was only a couple of years ago when her and ingrid got together and you wished it had happened sooner because ingrid was the balance to mapi that she needed. You and ingird got along far too well for mapis liking, even ganging up on her the odd few occasions, leaving her to fake pout with her arms crossed.

The drive from yours to mapis apartment was relatively short, but there was still roadworks that added time to your journey. You had finally reached her apartment and because you're her sister you had a spare key not for emergencies or anything just because you and mapi were close siblings and liked spending time with each other outside of football which may be for the reason yous had amazing chemistry on the field with eachother.

The key finally turned in the lock, opening the door with a satisfying click. However, unlike usual, there was no immediate sign they were home, so you thought you would just leave the jacket in her living room with a note to know that it was you. However, you wished you never showed up after what you saw.

As you stepped into the living room, it was if your life flashed before your eyes. "EURGHH OH MY GOD.. IM GONNA BE SICK, " you shouted. The sight before you was ingrid between your sisters legs on the couch, something you didn't want to see. "ON THE COUCH ASWELL UREGH IM NEVER SITTING ON THIS COUCH AGAIN NOT UNTIL YOU GET ANOTHER ONE," you continued to shout with your hands over your eyes as large amounts of scuffling happened.

It was about 5 minutes later, and it was like the scene was repeating in your head. "Im so sorry y/n ermm we weren't expecting you." mapi started this time in clothes. "Yeah no its okay im just never going to be able to come back here ever again... sooo goodbye and have a nice time just next time do it in the bedroom!!" You stated walking out the door.

Once you had left ingrid had started laughing to herself "well atleast your sister knows you're not as tough as you look and the fact you're a massive bottom" she said and mapi retaliated by smacking her arm "its not funny" "oh it really is amor".

That night, it might have seemed dramatic, but it was replaying in your head, causing a lack of sleep, which wasn't helpful for training the next morning. You trundled into the changing room, barely even noticing where you were going. "Whats wrong with you chica" said pina slinging an arm around your shoulder "i don't want to talk about it but if you want to know id ask my sister about it" you said groaning as you tried to shake off your tiredness.

You had came earlier than usual to try to avoid your sister and her girlfriend, which had worked as you were the first one on the field which had never happened before. Meanwhile pina couldn't help herself so she went and aksed mapi "sooo whats wrong with y/n the poor girl looks traumatised" "its nothing she's just being dramatic from yesterday" mapi said trying to blow the conversation over but pina had caught ingrid snickering to herself so she knew it was interesting.

"Pleaseee ingrid you have to tell me i wont say anything" she practically begged the taller girl "okay okay so basically y/n walked in on us in the living room" she said not even embarrassed "oh god no wonder the girl is traumatised" pina said through laughing.

"Well, she did shout at us that she was now scarred for life and is never coming back over until we get a new couch," ingrid said, laughing at the flashback of you shouting in pure disgust.

#woso #woso x reader #wsl #woso imagines #barca femeni #mapi leon #ingrid engen #woso blurbs #mapi and ingrid

384 notes · View notes

lalunanymph · 1 year ago

Text

𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 ─── hanma loves his sweet wife, and he loves it even more when you’re barefoot and pregnant for him. but, when you complain he needs to lay of off you for a bit, he decides he's never going to fill you up again. unless you beg nicely, of course.

𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 ─── you're now reading . . . 𝐁𝐄𝐆𝐆𝐈𝐍𝐆 + 𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐆𝐍𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐘 𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐊 with hanma shuji

𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 ─── wife!reader, fem!reader, mentions of pregnancy, reader is breastfeeding, unprotected s[e]x, oral s[e]x, established marriage, mentions of babies, shuji is obssessed with knocking us up, orgasm denial, future toman!shuji, hanma as a dad, mom!reader, loosely based off the characters in my series back to us

⇤flip back to the pervtober masterlist

It's no secret that Hanma Shuji is a difficult man.

His subordinates, old gang members and even his boss slash best friend, Kisaki Tetta, would bet on saying the same.

He was brash, violent and impulsive all rolled into one neatly pressed pinstripe suit and nicotine-roughened voice. The tattoos on the back of his hand shone more often than not with blood and gore than anything else, and he grew up on a steady diet of abuse and cheap thrills.

But, despite all of his atrocities, he was your husband and you loved him.

Even if you were currently exasperated over his determination to knock you up again when you had just came back from the hospital 8 weeks ago.

“Shuji, you have to stop,” your pleading tone slowed the roll of his hips.

Frowning, Hanma took a hard pause from fucking you, the look on his face laced with both confusion and worry.

“Shit, baby,” he plucked your hand from between your legs where it was steadily stimulating your clit, kissing the rise of your knuckles. “Did I hurt you?”

You shook your head, unable to voice out the anxiety clouding your mind. Shuji, however, was always patient with your unravelling thoughts, and gave you the space you needed to sort out your emotions.

He had ceased every movement, waiting for you to speak.

“The babies,” you finally managed to mumble. “They’re still so young.”

Referring to your two sons and daughter, your strange observation had him cocking his head to the side.

“Uh-huh. Shusei is eight, Shiori is two, and Shunki is three months old. Am I missing something here?”

His tone was tainted with a sheen of frustration, and you could plainly hear the thoughts bouncing in his head: Did she really stop our love making just to ask about the kids?

“N-no,” you whispered, trying to get him to understand. “They’re still so young, Shuji. We… I don’t think we should have any more babies… for now.”

Your voice turned meek towards the end of your suggestion, and you braced yourself for Shuji’s uproar. If there was one thing your husband loved more than pleasing Kisaki and expensive cigars, it was the sight of you swollen and pretty with his babies.

And it wasn’t because of some weird masculine need to spread his seed thoroughly—Shuji actually enjoyed the pregnancy process together with you.

The six foot five Reaper would shrug off other people’s judgement to get you anything you were craving for even if he was in the middle of a deadly meeting. He was present for every single one of his children’s ultrasounds without fail—except for Shusei’s, but that was a prickly past you had learned to make peace with. Shuji would follow you wherever you went if he wasn’t busy with work, and if he was, he always had a group of men shadowing your every movement, terrified that someone would hurt his precious family once his back was turned.

As shocking as it was, the great Reaper of Tokyo was actually a fantastic family man.

Never would anyone in a million years come to that conclusion, but it was the truth. Shuji lived and breathed to take care of his small family… and unfortunately, it came with the territory of knocking you up whenever he felt like it.

Which was currently the issue you were trying to get him to see.

“I need to rest, baby,” you murmured, cupping his face to ease the sting of disappointment you knew he was feeling. “I’ve been pushing out babies for the past three years. My body, it’s… it’s not what it used to be.”

You gestured at your obvious stretch marks, at the cellulite speckling your thighs and abdomen. “It looks bad… I don’t know. I’m sorry. I felt like I needed to tell you this because I’m… I’m ovulating today.”

Usually, those golden words would have Shuji seeing red for the whole evening. And you did notice your husband’s throat bobbing at the knowledge of your body being fertile and ready for his cum.

But, he tried to understand where you were coming from, even if he didn’t like it.

“Baby,” Shuji cooed, caressing your face with one large palm, inked knuckles grazing your wobbling lower lip. “You’re so fucking beautiful to me, don’t you know? I don’t care about what your body looks like. I love you for you. Plus—” he grabbed your breast fondly, squeezing it much to your gasp of surprise. “—I love how these tits have fed my babies.” He moved his hand lower to your hip, kneading the plush flesh with a playful grin. “And these fucking hips? Majestic, baby. I could live in between your thighs forever.”

His words made your cheeks burn hotly, and you struggled to not let him derail you. Focus on the end goal, Y/N.

But, it wasn’t like you were going to lie to yourself—you wanted a huge family just like Shuji did. But, he had to understand about spacing out conception times so you didn’t feel like a big, ol’ baby making machine from the 1700s.

“Shuji, that’s not what I’m saying,” you whined, pouting. He sighed, and rolled you over, his softening cock slipping out of your twitching heat.

“What is it, darling?” he asked, intent on uncovering what’s got your thoughts in a twist. “If you’re worried I would find you unattractive, I won’t. Every time I remember I’m married to you, I get really nervous like… like, fuck—she’s still with me? I have the most beautiful woman as my wife?” His tone turned teasing, like it always did when he was trying to fluster you. “Give me a bit more credit, will you?”

Of course, you did, and you rolled your eyes, half in exasperation and half in spellbound charm for his sincere words.

“I know, baby,” you said, and took his face in your hands again, willing for him to understand. “But, I need you to promise me one thing—no getting me pregnant this year. Not until Shunki is at least two.”

Shuji looked like you had just told him to jump off a cliff. His golden eyes widened with disbelief, mouth falling slack.

“Baby—”

“I mean it, Shuji.”

And he knew you did. His sweet wife rarely sets such harsh boundaries, and he was coming to realise how much he had fucked up.

“Are you angry with me?”

The little glimmer of uncertainty and fear that you might leave him again reared its ugly head—something uncommon but understood when memories of what you both went through filled your uneasy mind.

“No, Shuji,” you took his face in your hands, tilting it close enough for your foreheads to touch. “I’m not. I love you. I just… want to not be pregnant for a bit.”

He hummed, the sound slightly fractured towards the end. You could tell Shuji hated this idea with every fibre of his being, but he wasn’t the one physically carrying any of the children. Despite how he had tried to make each of your pregnancies comfortable by constantly being at your beck and call, your reality was different. The swollen ankles, aching muscles, sleepless nights and horrifying cravings were all starting to catch up with you.

If you wanted to give Hanma a big family, you needed to take some breaks in between or else you would lose your mind.

“I get it,” he sighed, those brilliant golden eyes downcast. “It’s your body so it’s your choice. I understand, baby.”

You internally exhaled a sigh of relief. “Thank you, baby,” you sealed your appreciation with a kiss, and Shuji returned the gesture back half-heartedly. Your husband was pouting like a kid whose candy got stolen, and you couldn’t resist a quiet chuckle at his expense.

“Look on the bright side—we could save up a little extra to take the kids for another holiday instead of buying diapers all the time.”

He met your optimism with a sour expression. “Yeah—if condoms weren’t so damn expensive.”

You fixed him with a disapproving look. “You and I both know that’s not true.”

Shuji rolled his eyes and then pinned you down into the bed with his bigger frame. “So, lemme get this straight—I can still fuck you, still cum in you… but you don’t want my babies?”

His words ignited a shiver of pleasure down your spine, and you cursed how susceptible you were to your husband’s seduction. Shuji could turn you on simply by lowering his voice and fixing you with his melting stare.

You swallowed hard, unsure how to reply to him. “W-well, yes—”

“Okay, fine,” he mumbled sourly. “Won’t do it, then.”

Sighing, you shook your head. “Okay, Shuji. Are you okay?”

He fixed you with an unfathomable look, and you were sure he would say something sarcastic. But, all your husband did was pull you into his embrace, kissing your hair.

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m okay. We’re okay.”

Then, he mumbled, “I won’t cum in you tonight, baby. You can trust me on that.”

And, you did. Shuji had proven to you time and time again how he religiously kept his word. Everytime he said that you were the only one or how he only wanted you in his life, he backed it up with real actions—like spending an entire night awake to take care of Shiori when she was down with a flu while you got your much needed rest; your pregnancy with Shunki wearing you out more than usual.

You should’ve known Shuji was a man of his words, but like two extremes, Shuji could never find a balance.

And this time, he took his promise overboard.

“Shuji,” you sobbed, completely lost in your pleasure. “A-Ah, I’m close!”

Your nails bit into his shoulders, the bathroom tiles shimmering in your periphery. Shuji had your knees pressed to your chest, rearranging your guts with languid strokes as the bath steam perfumed the air with lavender fragrance.

Your back was pressed to the grand mirror, and his lips were on yours, drinking every honeyed moan you had to offer him.

Hanging by a single thread of your sanity, you were close enough to taste your orgasm.

Shuji was steadily wrecking you, hellbent on bringing you past the threshold of pleasure that you both barely cared to keep it down.

His hoarse groans were swallowed by your eager mouth, and your every purr went straight to his overstimulated cock.

“Gonna make you feel so good, baby,” he groaned, crowding you further up the cool glass, intent on invading every inch of your space with his dominating presence. “Wanna hear you scream my name—w-wanna… ah, fuck, you don’t want t’get knocked up.”

At the mention of getting you pregnant again, you whined, shaking your head.

“D-don’t—please, Shu.”

He shook his head, reassuring you with a gentle squeeze on your thigh. “I won’t doll, I won’t. You know I won’t.”

Your syrupy hiccup was met with a soft, sympathetic kiss on your jaw.

“Ssh, ssh, darling. Don’t worry your head off, okay—a-ah, oh f—you feel so good.” Shuji’s beautiful golden eyes were heavy with lust, every weighty snap of his hips pushing his shaft to rub your sensitive spots deeper, making you see stars.

“I’m gonna cum,” every fibre of your soul was aching for your husband, your body echoing the same feat—demanding for Shuji to fulfil your gnawing lust. “G-gah, I-I’m g-gonna cum, Shuji—”

“F-fuck, me too, doll—fuck, fuck, you gotta—shit, shit, m’cumming—fuck!” Your husband’s guttural groan right in your ear made your insides flutter around his thick length, and you were rapidly melting for him; first your bones turning jelly, your muscles screaming and then your pussy was pulsing around him, ready to drop over the sweet, sinful edg e—

Shuji yanked you back from the edge when he practically ripped his cock from your swollen depths, jerking his raw and red cock hard. You barely had time to cry out in despair when you felt a hot spray coating your pelvis and thighs.

The room was spinning, your whited-out mind reemerging back from the fog as one singular thought blared loudly like a hurricane siren: Shuji denied my orgasm.

The devil in question exhaled out a laugh which stirred the loose hairs stuck to your neck with sweat. “You alright, baby?”

Your mouth fell open, about to whine out your displeasure, when he tilted your face up, handsome face completely suffused with love as he kissed you slow and deep.

“You should get cleaned up,” he murmured, lips a heated stroke from yours, and yet so far away.

“Shuji—”

“I have some documents to wrap up,” he pried himself free from the beckoning circle of your arms, his smile touched with regret.

All you could do was gawk at him, dumbfounded by how he brushed your arousal aside like it barely even mattered. This was out of character for the man you intimately knew as your husband. Shuji had once eaten you out until his jaw went numb just so he could feel you cum on his tongue—his blase attitude towards your denied orgasm didn’t make sense.

“H-hey, I didn’t cum yet—”

“Hmm?” he cut you off, a pinch in his brow. “What do you mean, baby?”

Flushing in anger, you pried him back into your arms, jaw clenched in fury. “Don’t be an asshole, Shu. I didn’t cum yet and I was so close. You knew I was close—”

“Sheesh, okay,” Shuji gently disentangled your hands from his body, giving you a smug grin. “I know you’re always a bitch in heat for me, but I honestly thought you came already.”

Your jaw fell open, the anger giving way to disbelief. Your husband quickly pecked your cheek, backing away on his long legs in preparation for your mounting wrath.

Quickly hopping onto your feet, you fully intended to chase him down and make him get on his knees for being so mean to you, when a familiar cry over the baby monitor stopped you short.

Shuji had already disappeared into his office, and you were left with the selfish decision of marching in to give him a piece of your frazzled mind, or tending to your baby. In the end, your motherly instinct won out, and you quickly slipped on your night robe, wincing at how you had to wash it now that the material had touched your husband’s cum as you hurried down the hallway to Shunki’s room.

Your baby boy was red in the face, screaming at the top of his lungs to be fed. You didn’t hesitate to shrug off one shoulder of your robe, placating him with your milk as he latched on hungrily. You fed your son and rocked him gently, brushing the baby fuzz on his head to get him to calm down. Once Shunki had his fill, you burped and cuddled him, waiting for his eyes to slip close after a fulfilling feeding.

Setting your son down to sleep in the crib, you had to take a quick shower and hurry to tuck both Shiori and Shusei in.

Once the children were all asleep, you had almost forgotten about the simmering lust in your veins, until the reminder of your soiled robe in the hamper stopped you up short.

Shuji would be working till late tonight, and there was no chance of him tending to your needs.

Somehow, you sensed it was because of the boundary you placed on him a few days ago which incited your husband’s petty actions. Which was a shame, because you were about to suggest hopping back on the pill if he refused to wear a condom. It’s not like you hadn’t done it before; at least one of you had to be responsible for the family planning, and unfortunately, the onus seemed to fall on your shoulders.

So, you trudged back to bed, too tired to deal with your arousal and hoping it would go away when morning came.

… Only, you couldn’t fall asleep.

You stayed awake, tossing and turning; wishing Shuji were here to hold you.

Unbidden, you reached for his side of the bed and found it empty.

Lying up, you rubbed your eyes, reaching for your thin cardigan. Even though you were angry with him, you still wanted his comfort and love. Without a second thought, you trudged into his office, startling him from his papers.

“Oh? Darling.”

Like a child, you padded over to him, throwing yourself onto his lap and burying your face in his neck.

Shuji held you close, inhaling the scent of lavender from your hair greedily. “Couldn’t sleep?”

“Mhm,” you smacked his chest lightly. “‘Cause of you, dumbass.”

His deep laughter rumbled under your cheek. “What did I do now?”

“Don’t act stupid,” you grumbled under your breath.

“Baby, I’m serious.”

This close to him, your senses were ignited and tingling; a rush of desire flooding south to stain your innocent cotton panties with a bone-deep need for your husband.

“You’re so mean, Shuji,” your whine reached his heated ears, and he strangled back a chuckle at your expense. Sensing your cresting arousal, he ran his rough palms down your back, warming you up under your thin night clothes.

“Yeah, I guess I was. I didn’t make my baby cum. I’m a bad husband for that.”

“Mhm hmm,” you petulantly agreed. Sitting straighter, you inched off his lap to perch on the edge of his desk. Parting your legs, you dangled your arousal right in front of him, the innocence on the curve of your brow contrasting vividly with the wet spot his sights immediately latched onto. “So, what’re you going to do to make it up to me?”

His hollow chuckle sounded strained, even to his own ears. He wrapped an inked palm on your bare thigh, calloused thumb rubbing circles into the heated flesh.

“I guess you have to show me, darling.”

This was the thing about your husband; while you were given full reign on the house and his emotions, Shuji still held all the cards when it came to your body. You had barely cared before; he had always made sure to put your pleasure above anything else in his life. But, in this instant, when you could feel the tides of power shifting uncertainty from one stubborn end to another, the ball was in your court to determine how you wanted this night to end.

Shuji was giving you both an out and an in—waiting on the choice you were going to make.

Without a word, you nudged his hand away, and parted your thighs further, slowly inching down your panties. His pen dug into your side, and you impatiently shoved it away, the pesky item rolling down the desk to clatter onto the floor.

Once your cunt was naked and dripping in front of him, you didn’t hesitate to rub your clit, literally taking your pleasure into your own hands.

“Is this how you wanted me to react?” you quietly goaded, a fire in your eyes he found breathtakingly beautiful. Shuji responded by sitting back into his chair to get a good look at you touching yourself, those golden eyes infuriatingly unreadable. “By forcing your hand? You’re sick, Shuji. J-just because I enforced a boundary, you—nghh—want to punish me.”

Your circles turned jerky, the previously denied orgasm he didn’t give you rearing fully back to the surface. The room was sticky and hot, the air saturated with the smell of seduction and repressed need.

You couldn’t see it, but Shuji was holding tightly to the arms of his desk chair, outwardly patient while you got yourself off; inwardly dying to feel your walls choke his cock.

However, he hesitated to react; in some sick, twisted sense, he wanted to see how far he could push you—how much you could take until you crumbled.

He was always the more active one in pursuing your physical pleasure while you allowed him to dominate you and lead you down endless carnal paths. This time, Shuji took one step back, letting you decide what you wanted—because to him, your words and actions weren’t matching. The woman who didn’t want him to breed her, was displaying her pussy fully just for him; begging him earlier this now to make her cum. Every part of you begged for him deep inside you, but he had to make sure this was what you truly wanted.

“Shuji,” your sweet whine made his cock throb. “God—f-fuck—must I beg you to touch me?”

Immediately he pushed your hand aside, cheek pressed to the inside of your thigh as he greedily inhaled your arousal. In hindsight, it was your fault for goading him, because for the next hour, Shuji ate you out until you were dripping onto his proposal papers, smearing Toman’s next steps around your sweaty, writhing body as you came again and again for your husband.

His tongue rubbed on your tender spots deep inside you, his nose pressed firmly against your clit, rubbing back and forth back and forth until you cried out gonna cum again Shu, g-gonna cum again—

He let you grind your pussy all over his face, let your hands twine in his hair to hold him in place while you found your unravelling for the third time tonight.

Once your thighs had stopped spasming, he eased back, lips glossy and lower chin drenched in your juices.

Pulling you into his lap, Shuji’s hard cock strained against his slacks, surely leaking now from how long he had teased himself—held himself back from ravaging you like you deserved. But, even saints were humans who had a limit to their patience, and Shuji would never delude himself to believe he was a good man.

He was as rotten as they came—corrupted both inside and out. But, his love for you would always be his salvation.

You brought out the man underneath the monster; only you were able to claw him out from the dark and into your arms.

You were his salvation, and Shuji was going to make sure you were ruined for him.

“Undress me.”

Those hooded golden eyes pushed you to unbuckle his belt first, your shaky hands pressing down on his broad pecs, trembling when they unbuttoned his dress shirt.

Shuji simply sat back, studying the adorable concentration scrunching your brow as you tried to quickly take what you wanted. His dress shirt slid down his scarred shoulders, and his cock finally sprang free from behind the restrictive material of his slacks.

It was your turn to undress. You eased the flimsy silk nightgown from your shoulders, letting it fall in a pool by your waist. Shuji’s intensity threatened to swallow you whole—from the smouldering heat in his amber eyes to his parted lips, he was looking at you like you were a rare feast laid out for him.

Those large palms cupped your breasts, massaging your swollen nipples and toying with them until you winced. He lifted you up slightly to slide the pretty black nightgown fully off you, leaving you bare and vulnerable just for his scrutiny.

Shuji’s lips were on yours, drowning you with his kisses that tasted of whisky and cloying impatience. You drank him in deeply, until you felt like your lungs would puncture and overflow. His tongue slipped past the shaky barrier of your mouth, intimately dancing with yours as you both savoured and teased each other.

“Shuji…” your breathless sigh never failed to get him light-headed. He loved how his name always sounded coming from your sacred lips.

Cupping your face in his hands, he gently pecked your nose, cheeks and lips, while subtly nudging you further up his torso so his cock could brush your entrance. Your first gasp rang through the room, the sensation of his fat tip pushing past the tight muscle an experience you never wanted to give up.

Suddenly, this game of cat and mouse snapped your patience in half, and you wanted nothing more than to feel his hot cum flooding your womb.

“Shuji…” your gasp was swallowed by his feral mouth on yours, kissing away any of your anticipated complaints.

But, you were done restricting your husband from the most tender parts of yourself. It was his right to defile you; to drive his hips deeper and deeper into you until you bore him the fruits of both your labours.

Sacrilege was never giving Hanma Shuji what he wanted when all he wanted was you.

“I need you…”

Hanma’s ears pricked, hearing something more than desperation in your sweet request.

“Yeah, doll? What do you need?”

He would always have a sixth sense whenever you were struggling with piecing together your needs. Shuji wanted to count all of your insecurities and pin them onto the bruises of his body just so he could brush them softly whenever they started to hurt.

Lifting your glossy, tear-filled eyes, you hiccuped: “You.”

His chuckle brushed your parted mouth, nose grazing yours. “You already have me.”

“No,” you whined, bucking your hips to take him at a deeper angle. The both of you hissed out curses, the sloppy sounds of your pussy taking his dick growing louder and fervent. “No, I want you. A-all of you.”

The pricking in his ears turned into a roaring. Shuji couldn’t make out a maths equation for his life, but he was pretty sure he counted every cadence of desire in your tone which led him to one singular conclusion: you were begging to be bred.

A smile of pure triumph spread across his face, hidden in your hair. “Yeah?” he struggled to keep his voice from shaking in excitement. “But, you already have me, doll. What more could you want?”

He meant to tease you; to goad you further until you broke and bent just for him.

Shuji needed to hear those words leaving your lips, all for the sake of his bruised ego.

“I… I need you.” Your soft bleat went straight to his heart. God, he was so fucking in love with you; no one could change that fact. Come hell or high water, Shuji was all fucking yours till the end.

He kissed your temple, soft and unhurried with his thrusts. “Where do you need me, baby?”

Close. He was so close to breaking you.

You groaned, the sound filled with lust and frustration—a little bit of your insanity leaking through. “Shuji!”

If your whine was meant to scare him into acting, all it did was make his bastard grin grow wider. Hanma kissed down your neck, placating your impatience with the sweet temptation of his lips. You tensed in his arms, ready to slip down the freefall. But, his hesitation was keeping you from fulfilling your high.

One minute turned into two. The inner restraint you harboured fraying at the edges, like a glass dome showing cracks in the middle. Rocked by an earthquake, your resolve was fracturing bit by bit. Shiny shards slipped down your cheeks when the axis tilted and spun but never broke you—and so, you decided to take a sledgehammer to your own stubbornness and shatter those walls.

“Inside!” Your cry could’ve woken up the neighbours if Shuji hadn’t smartly made his entire office soundproof. “I want you—ngh—inside!”

Your husband didn’t waste a single second. Grabbing you by the plush fat of your thighs, he nudged you up in one swift move, spreading you across his wide, oak desk. Shuji’s snarl would’ve been terrifying if you weren’t so relieved to feel him going deeper, throwing your legs over his shoulders to touch that spot inside that always made you melt for him.

His face was between your breasts, peppering the jiggling flesh with soft kisses and sharp nips which made you squeal. Shuji used every bit of his strength to push his hips forward, over and over again until you saw stars in the back of your eyelids—your orgasm threatening to explode like the formation of a new universe.

You welcomed the implosion with open arms, your lips on his; the desk rattling and eventually groaning as the full effects of your passions ricocheted around the room.

Shuji’s gritted cry of your name, and your delirious moan melted into a sloppy meeting of tongues and teeth, his warmth filling you up, right where he belonged in the deep embrace of your body.

You held him close to your thrumming heart, feeling him soften and relax in your hold.

For a long minute, neither of you spoke—Shuji was afraid to look up in case he crossed a line, and you were dazed, trying to recover from your earth-shattering release.

He felt your fingers scratching his scalp, and that little move was enough for him to summon a shred of courage to look you in the eye. Your smile was soft, if a little hazy, those pretty eyes latched onto him with a woozy affection.

“Are you okay?” Shuji gripped your hand tightly in his, hoping he hadn’t scared you away again.

But, you shook your head, beaming angelically at him. “I’m fine, Shu.”

His nickname and your relaxed countenance made some of the fears stop dancing in his mind. He heaved a sigh of relief, pressing his forehead to your neck and inhaling your sweet scent lightly.

How could you have ever denied your husband what he wanted whenever he looked at you with such pure love in his eyes?

Every fibre of his body echoed an affection which remained steadfast and sure—you were positive if it resulted in more love to bring into this household, you would welcome those blessings with open arms.

“What changed your mind?”

You hummed, relaxing further into the unyielding wood, safe and sound in his embrace.

“You.”

Shuji furrowed his brow, glancing up into your serene expression. “Huh?”

Your laughter was pure and unaffected. “I want only you, Shuji. How could I say ‘no’ to more babies if it means we have more proof of our love? We always wanted to build a big family, and I want to do that with you.”

Unexpectedly, he felt a lump grow in his throat. “Doll, you don’t have to do this for me. It’s your body—”

You shushed his complaints, giving him a look. “I want this,” you emphasised. “I want this with you—forever. So, you better make sure we have enough money to send the kids to college, Shuji… because we’ll be paying tuition fees for a long time.”

His answering giggle made more sticky sweet love bloom in your soul. “You got it, doll. I’ll work my ass off for you. Break more rules for ya. Up the drug prices to squeeze everyone dry till our babies are big enough. I love you.”

And you knew Shuji would keep his word—he was a man of integrity as much as he was rotten on the inside. A man of trust and fulfilment only for you.

Just then, the baby monitor he kept in his desk crackled, and Shunki cried out for his nightly feed.

Both you and Shuji lurched into action, slipping on your clothes in record speed. Your baby boy’s cries even catalysed Shuji into sprinting down the hallways, and he was there first thanks to his longer legs, cradling his son close to his chest while you caught up.

“Give him here,” you hummed, taking the wailing bundle from Shuji and slipping down your nightgown to press one plump nipple past his tiny lips.

Shuji watched you feed his son with pure love in his eyes, leaning back against the old, chipped yellow crib with arms loosely perched on his side. Absorbing this scene and imprinting it onto his brain as the idea of his perfect version of heaven.

If fate would allow it, he wanted a moment like this with you for forever.

Nevermind his dangerous occupation or the nature of his lifestyle. You, Shunki, Shusei and Shiori were the only specks of light in his otherwise fucked up world. Hanma would fight tooth and nail to keep every one of you safe, and he would put every dream of his own on hold just to see his little family happy.

As soon as that thought arose, the door to the nursery swung open, and Shiori crept in, curious by her two parents who were still awake. Hanma lifted her into his arms, cooing softly at his sleepy, baby girl. Shusei, too, ignored your rule for sleeping early on school nights to peek into Shunki’s room. His father called him over, and Shuji easily lifted his other baby boy into the seam of his side, cradling them both while you fed your youngest.

All three of them were piled onto the soft couch you often sat on as you pumped more milk for Shunki, and Shuji was drowsily recounting a story for his other two children.

“... the elephant then said to the fairy: I want to be a cat today, and the fairy—”

You sat down next to him, Shunki still in your arms, and admired how both your children looked at their father with honest admiration and adoration in their twin golden eyes.

Shusei, who was following the story with rapt attention, smirked at his sister.

“I told you the elephant became a cat but you didn’t believe me.”

In answer, Shiori stuck out her tongue. “No!”

They were both about to bicker when Shuji stopped them with one large palm on each of their tinier heads. “Kids, let’s not start to fight, yeah? You’ll wake your baby brother up.”

All three golden eyes latched onto the sleeping infant in your arms, and you smiled at them. “Your tou-chan’s right. Shunki is really grumpy at night when he doesn’t sleep well.” Levelling them a look, you had to play the stern parent when you realised Shuji wasn’t going to say a word about how they both were up past their bedtime.

“Speaking of, aren’t you two supposed to be asleep?”

Cheekily, Shusei shook his head. “Can’t sleep, mama. Wanna see Shunki again.”

Like the adoring big brother he was, your oldest son clambered towards you, his head on your shoulder as he stared intently at his baby brother. Shiori, too, was curious and Shuji let her go, carefully helping her down the sofa so she could rest her head on your knee. Carefully, you untucked one arm to pat her messy bedhead, fondly smiling down at your daughter.

Shunki gurgled and burped in his sleep, eliciting giggles from all four of you.

“He’s like a doll,” Shusei murmured.

“A doll,” Shiori echoed, always following her brother’s lead.

“Yeah,” Shuji leaned forward, taking a spare moment out of his busy day to have this time with his family. “The cutest doll. Makes you want to have another sibling, huh?”

Shusei groused, “Mama just gave birth.”

Shiori giggled. “More, more.”

Hanma smiled at his daughter’s excitement, knowing his middle child was the most excited for a baby sister so she wouldn’t be the only girl in the line-up.

“We’ll get you both another sister.”

Again, you were scandalised by Shuji’s blatant promise to the kids, like he did a year ago before Shunki’s conception. He was filling the children with hope, cornering your decision so you couldn’t change your mind, not when they were already this invested.

What a scheming, cunning asshole.

“Maybe we can all ask papa to take us to Disney World when Shunki is a little older—would you want that? And your new sister can join, too. We’ll make papa carry all the bags.”

Your quick plan was met with pure excitement from both of your children, and Shunki nearly roused awake if you hadn’t clamped one hand around his ear to block out their hushed squeals.

“Disney World!”

“Didney World!”

Shuji winced, and you knew you were triumphant when he conceded letting his children clamber back into his lap, pawing at his clothes and face as they excitedly enthused about a trip which hadn't even happened yet.

As your husband shot you a look of exasperation, all you did was grin cheekily back at him, your baby still miraculously asleep in your arms.

All was perfect in the Hanmas’ house and your life.

intellectual property of ©️lalunanymph. do not copy, repost or play around with my sentence structures, plots and characterization.

#hanma shuuji x reader #hanma x reader #hanma smut #hanma shuuji smut #hanma shuuji x you #tokrev #tokyo rev smut #tokrev smut #tokrev x reader #she's late to the party but at least she's here #🦢 writes

1K notes · View notes

fuckyeahgoodomens · 1 year ago

Text

ABSOLUTELY DELICIOUS S2 BTS VIDEO! :)❤ 🐍😊

David: Good Omens 2 will be once more unto the breach...

Michael: The kind of world that Neil and Terry Pratchett created here. It's... it seems to be expanding out into the world in all kinds of unexpected and and truly joyful ways.

Douglas Mackinnon (the directior): If Season one was a comedy about the End of the World, Season Two is a comedy about the beginning of everything else.

Miranda Richardson (demon Shax): The Bromance is continuing.

Doon Mackichan (Archangel Michael): What a cast, is all I can say, incredible, incredible cast.

Liz Carr (angel Saraqael): But of course a script of Good Omens is a whole different thing because anything can happen.

Shelley Con (Prince of Hell Beelzebub): There's always a smirk somewhere around the corner in a Good Omens script.

Quelin Sepulveda (angel Muriel): I had no idea what to expect, where this character was gonna go...

Liz: I feel quite honored that when they were thinking of the realms of sarcasm they thought of me.

Gloria Obianyo (angel Uriel): Seven-year-old me is like, 'Oh my God! This is the stuff of dreams!'

Maggie Service (human Maggie): A whole Fantastical Universe of joy that we just get to playing and you'll get to watch.

Tim Downie (Mr Brown): I am immeasurably, immeasurably excited.

Jon Hamm (Archangel Gabriel / Jim): You know I was very pleased when when I was brought back to be a part of that story.

Neil Gaiman: Ppeople are excited and I'm working so hard to tell them absolutely nothing. I'm very lucky because Michael Sheen and David Tennant love Crowley and Aziraphale. I think the first moment that I saw David and Michael acting together... all of a sudden there was Crowley and there was Aziraphale, it was like seeing two friends who I hadn't seen for years.

David: There's something about the way Neil sees the mundane that is extraordinary and there's something about the way things filter through his imagination and of course in this world it also sprinkled with the imagination of Terry Pratchett and those two together created this cocktail that is it's unlike anything you've seen anywhere else and yet it feels utterly familiar.

Michael: And they both have a sense of the absurdity of what it is to be a human.

Rob Wilkins: When you've got David and Michael in front of the camera David and Michael evaporate and you have Crowley in Aziraphale and that relationship it needed it needed interrogating more and of course we all know that Terry and Neil had conversations about what the sequel would be and Neil has taken that and he's blown it up in a way that the viewers are just going to love so what would Terry think? Terry would pat Neil on the back and he would push Good Omens forward, he would break a bottle of champagne over its bows and be absolutely delighted and I know that, I'm the one person on Earth who's been entrusted to know that for certain and I promise you Terry would be absolutely delighted.

David: We've got some cast members coming back, returning but playing different parts which is a lovely little addition to things isn't it, so Miranda Richardson is back not playing the same role as Season One, she's now Shax, my replacement - Crowley's replacement on Earth.

Neil: Shelley Conn came in as Beelzebub and it feels in a weird way kind of like a Doctor Who Regeneration. We have a new demon called Furfur played by Rheece Shearsmith who was our Shakespeare in Season One.

David: Nina and Maggie were two of the Sisters in Season One, The nunnery of Doom, and now they are two characters imaginatively called Nina and Maggie.

Maggie: In season one really it was just me and the nuns, it was the nun gang, so to actually get to meet Aziraphale and Crowley... I hadn't been prepared for how delightful Aziraphale is.

Neil: Season Two begins about threem four years after the events of Season One.

Michael: Aziraphale and Crowley now are, you know, out on their own, they're.. they're a team to themselves.

Neil: Everything changes when Aziraphale gets an unexpected visitor.

Michael: A familiar face comes along with a mystery that needs solving and as Aziraphale and Crowley attempt to solve that mystery they realize that there are much more terrifying things ahead than they've had to deal with in the past. That involves having to go back through history as well to get clues as to what might be going on.

David: When we go back into these stories set within Aziraphale and Crowley's personal history there are moments within those stories where where their relationships sort of pivots or develops in some way. Himself and Aziraphale I think rely on each other even more in season two than they did in Season One because they are by necessity and by circumstance they're a they're a double act that nobody else can join.

Michael: It's extraordinary to see how important these characters and this story have become to a lot of people and how much people enjoy expressing themselves through art, through fan fiction.

David: I went to a Comic-Con and the amount of Crowleys and Aziraphales that I saw everywhere, the cosplaying just took off, and always in twos, which was joyous because of course the characters in my mind only exist in relation to each other. They are the Ying and the Yang.

Michael: It's such a... I think it's such a compliment and I think Neil feels the same way as well.

Maggie: Always clever Neil Gaiman, isn't he?

Nina: Yeah yeah, you'd have to sort of admit that at some point, yeah-

Maggie: He's quite good at his job.

2K notes · View notes

billysgun · 11 months ago

Text

forgiveness

billy the kid x cowgirl!reader..pt2 of loyal |requested!|billy finds you after you ran from the gang, and falls apart in your arms|

the dimly lit cabin warmed your bare feet as your nightgown tickled your ankles, hand running down to your bloated belly, a tiny bump only you'd notice.

you're in arizona territory. the trail was hard with throwing up the little food you had and protecting yourself and your horse from thieves and murderers.

you've been here before, the abandoned cabin way out from civilization, a one-in-a-million find.

so how did he find it?

you should have known. the heavy thumps of a horse you prayed would pass you, and the running to your door with frantic knocking.

you crept toward it, already knowing it was him from his newly stolen horse tied next to yours through the window. you took a breath and then opened it.

his eyes were red and swollen, tears rimming the edges. he flew towards you into a back-breaking hug, and your body melted as his scent enveloped you.

"I thought you were goin' to clear your head- I didn't know. I'm sorry I'm so sorry" he babbled into your hair, your gown wetting at the shoulder from his tears, but you didn't want them.

you didn't want his tears, his apologies, and certainly not his presence

"billy stop-" you whispered, but he shook his head as he faced you, hands still wrapped around your frozen body

"no, I went 2 weeks without knowing if you were alive." he stays adamant. your hands slowly push his off of you as his touch is too much to process, your hands find your stomach to try and calm you but his eyes follow and his shoulders relax at the sight of you showing

"billy, I'm not with them anymore." you reference the gang, trying to find any way on why this wouldn't work.

he said it wouldn't. he didn't choose this but you're the one pregnant, so, obviously you did, right? you haven't forgiven him.

"I'm not either. I'm not doing that anymore" he picks up your hands

"we can do this. we can get a cabin like this or a ranch. raise our child together" he talks like it's so simple. just forgive and forget. he's ready now, so what's the issue?

you stare at him dumbfounded. yes, you know maybe that entire last argument was a little reactive and reckless, he did just find out that second. but you found out that day, too. and the last thing you needed to hear was how he didn't want it.

"billy...why?" you whispered, head too full of different emotions of wanting to hug him, slap him, and cry. you end up doing the last thing as tears softly fall down your cheek and he drops your hands slowly

"...what?"

"why are you just saying this now?"

"because before I was scared. I didn't want you to get hurt and I didn't want some outlaw father raisin' our child."

"but I'm not just an outlaw. and I'm not a cowboy. I'm here, and I want this baby" he whispers sincerely, teary eyes never breaking with yours

it was honest, and it was real. and how the trail is 2 weeks travel, and you only got here late last night, he would've had to leave hours after you did.

"please, love. I'm so sorry" his thumb brushed your tears before hugging you gently

"ok." it was a small sob, but it was all that billy needed. he scooped you up and took you to bed where you both laid. recovering your love as your child grew.

an: you guys really wanted a part 2..so here it is! I hope you guys enjoyed it <3 ilysm!! THANK YOU FOR 900 FOLLOWERS!! I LOVE YOU ALL SO MUCH 💞

808 notes · View notes

snowysosturn · 1 month ago

Text

Allies or Affiliates? - Chris Sturniolo

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10

Pairing : Y/n x Chris Sturniolo

Summary : Law student Y/n’s life takes a turn when she reconnects with Chris, her brief teenage flame who is now a dealer for a dangerous Boston drug gang. As their bond reignites, Y/n is drawn into Chris’s tumultuous world, where rival gangs clash and loyalty is everything. Balancing her love for Chris with her own ambitions, can their connection survive the chaos that threatens to pull them apart?

Warnings : MDNI, Mentions of drugs, mentions of murder

A/N: Although this is FICTION I want to make it clear how serious getting involved with anything to do with drugs can be, and how hard it can be to get out of it and in no way am I trying to glorify it.

The clock read 5:03 PM as I stepped out of the front door of Boston University, the autumn sky painted in soft streaks of pink and orange. The campus buzzed with the usual energy on a Friday - students rushing to home to get ready for weekend parties, some chatting in small groups on the lawns, while others sped off on bikes or scurried to catch the next bus. Boston was always alive, but there was a kind of comfort in the routine of it all, a sense of order in the chaos.

I pulled my coat tighter around me, the early October chill creeping in as I started walking. It had been a long day, a long week, really. Law school wasn’t a joke. Between the hours of lectures, the mountains of assignments, and the never ending reading list, I felt like I was constantly drowning in work. Sometimes, it felt like I barely had time to breathe, let alone catch up with my friends or even sleep. But tonight, I had made an exception. I was heading to my best friend Willow’s place for some much needed relaxation and a good catch up.

Willow had been my best friend for as long as I could remember. We grew up together, practically sisters. Our families had always been close, bonded by the same comfortable, though not extravagant, wealth. We weren’t the type of rich that screamed excess, but our lives had always been comfortable, easy. Willow and I never talked much about that, though, it was just an unspoken part of our lives, something we both understood without needing to mention.

After taking a short subway journey, I made my way through the familiar streets toward her apartment, I felt the weight of the week slowly starting to lift off my shoulders. Willow’s place was always my safe haven, bringing me back memories of when my family also lived in Beacon Hill. A place where I could let my guard down and forget about the endless deadlines, the pressure to perform, and the expectations that came with law school. Tonight, I needed that more than ever.

When I reached her apartment building, Willow was already at the door, waving at me with a bright smile. She was wrapped in a chunky knit sweater, her hair laid perfectly, and she looked as warm and inviting as ever.

“Took you long enough” she teased as I walked up the steps.

I rolled my eyes, grinning. “Blame the professors. They think we’re machines.”

“Ah I’m only messing” she said, stepping aside to let me in. “I’ve got wine ready. You need it.”

“I’m not arguing with that” I replied, stepping inside and shrugging off my coat. The warmth of her apartment immediately hit me, and I sighed in relief. It was always so homey here, the soft glow of the candles she had lit casting flickering shadows on the walls. Willow’s place had this calm, peaceful vibe that was the exact opposite of the chaos in my life right now.

“So” she began, handing me a glass of white wine mixed with lemonade to (you know to make it sweeter) as we settled onto the couch, “What’s the latest? How’s law school treating you?”

I groaned, taking a sip of the alcoholic concoction before answering. “I don’t know why yous ever let me decide to become a lawyer” I laughed. “I feel like I’m constantly drowning in assignments and then I’m up to my ears in readings, and don’tttttt even get me started on work. I’ve been spending so much time at my mom’s bridal studio, I swear its like every woman in Boston is getting married this year.”

Willow chuckled, shaking her head. “I don’t know how you do it. I’d lose my mind.”

“I’m hanging on by a thread. But it’ll be worth it. I hope.” I said rolling my eyes.

“It will” she said confidently, raising her glass. “You’re going to be an amazing lawyer one day. I can already see it.”

“From your lips to god's ears” I laughed, clinking my glass with hers. “But yeah, I’ve got to sit in on a court hearing on Monday. Kind of like an observation. We’re supposed to get a feel for how things work in the courtroom.”

Willow looked impressed. “That sounds intense. Are you nervous?”

“A little” I admitted. “I’ve never actually been inside a courtroom before. You think I would've already 3 years into law school, like it’s one thing to read about cases and watch the news, but it’s another to actually be there, seeing it all unfold.”

She nodded thoughtfully, taking another sip of her wine. “You’ll do fine. You always do. Just remember, you’re smarter than you give yourself credit for.”

I smiled, feeling the tension in my shoulders start to ease. “Thanks, Willow. I needed that.”

We talked for a little while longer, catching up on the little things, what she’d been up to, how her week had gone, the usual chatter that always seemed to flow so easily between us. I could feel myself relaxing, the stress of the week slowly melting away with each sip of wine.

Eventually, I reached for my phone and connected it to her TV, letting some music play softly in the background. After a few songs, “Everybody Dies In Their Nightmares” by XXXTENTACION started to play.

“Oh my god, I haven’t heard this song since, like, 2018!” Willow said, laughing as she set down her wine glass. “This reminds me of Nate Doe, he showed it to me. I haven’t heard about him in years.”

Her words sparked something deep in my memory, and suddenly, a flood of thoughts hit me. “Oh my god who was friends with Chris Sturniolo. Where the hell did he go?”

Willow’s eyes lit up in recognition. “Chris! Oh my God, he was such a sweetheart!”

“I know, right?” I said, leaning forward in my seat. “Do you remember we used to talk all the time during summer 2018? How he’d walk all the way across Boston just to hang out with me. I had such a soft spot for him.”

Willow smiled, leaning back against the couch cushions. “Oh my god yes! He was so good looking at the time too.. Do you remember how he and Nate were inseparable? They were always together.”

“Yeah” I nodded, my mind spinning with memories. “Nate had this tough exterior, but Chris.. Chris was just a genuinely good guy. I wonder what happened to him.”

We both fell silent for a moment, lost in our thoughts. Nate had always seemed a little rough around the edges, coming from a background that was a bit more complicated than ours. But somehow, he managed to keep it together. Chris, though, he was different. He was kind in a way that stuck with you, the type of person who made you feel like you mattered.

Without even realizing it, I pulled out my phone and started scrolling through old messages with Chris. “I wonder if he’s still around” I said, more to myself than to Willow.

She glanced over at me, intrigued. “What do you mean?”

“I don’t know..” I shrugged. “I just haven’t thought about him in so long. I’m curious.. I really do hope he’s doing okay.”

Curiosity got the better of both of us, and soon enough, we were deep diving into our old messages on Facebook Messenger of all things. We laughed as we scrolled through the innocent conversations between us, Nathan, and Chris, back when everything seemed simpler, easier. There was something sweet about it, something that reminded me of a time when life wasn’t so complicated.

I eventually clicked onto Chris’s profile, but my heart sank a little when I saw it. “Weird” I muttered, frowning at my phone screen.

“What’s up?” Willow asked, glancing over at me.

“He unfriended me” I said, scrolling through his profile. “And there’s nothing here. No posts, no profile picture.. everything’s wiped. He only has like 20 friends on here now.”

Willow raised an eyebrow. “Seriously?”

“Yeah..” I said, showing her my phone. “It’s like he disappeared off the face of the earth.”

Willow shrugged, sipping her wine. “Maybe he’s just gone off the grid. People do that sometimes. I mean, I only keep Facebook for Messenger these days anyway.”

“True” I muttered, though something about it felt... off. “I just wonder what happened to him. It’s like he vanished.”

“Maybe it’s no big deal” Willow said, trying to reassure me. “People change. They move on.”

“Yeah, I guess” I said, though I couldn’t shake the nagging feeling that something wasn’t quite right.

As we continued scrolling through old conversations, laughing at the silly messages we used to send as 15 year olds, I found myself thinking more and more about Chris. He had been such a big part of my life for that brief time, and now, it felt like he was a ghost, someone who had been there, but now was completely gone.

After a couple more glasses of wine and plenty of laughs, Willow and I decided to call it a night. It was almost midnight, and the weight of the week was starting to hit me. We didn’t even bother clearing the table, just left the wine glasses and half empty bottle as they were, and headed to bed.

The next morning, I woke up earlier than I’d planned. It was barely 7am, and sunlight streamed in through the sheer curtains, casting a soft glow across the room. I stretched, yawned, and checked my phone – no new notifications, except for a reminder that I had to open the bridal shop today.

Willow was still fast asleep when I slipped out of her apartment, but that was no surprise. She was always a late riser. Beacon Hill was quiet this early, the cobblestone streets almost deserted, with only a few people out for their morning walks. You could see my breath in the crisp morning air as I headed toward the bridal shop in downtown Boston, deciding to stop for a coffee along the way.

As I made my way down Charles Street, I noticed something out of place for this hour of the morning. A cluster of police cars parked near the corner, their flashing lights reflecting off the surrounding buildings. There were officers standing around, talking in low voices, and a small crowd of people who seemed to be watching from a distance.

I couldn’t help but feel curious. What had happened? What was going on in these people’s lives, right under my nose, that I had no clue about? The thought lingered with me as I ordered my usual oat milk cappuccino and continued on my way.

It was strange how life worked. One minute, everything seemed normal – people going about their routines, living their lives – and the next, something like this happened. Something that could change everything. And soon enough, I’d be on the other side of that. Potentially defending people in situations just like this, trying to piece together what had happened and why. It made me wonder if I was really ready for that kind of responsibility.

I got to the bridal shop and unlocked the door and went through my usual opening routine. The shop had a certain charm to it, and I’d expect nothing less from my mom. Elegant white dresses hanging on racks, soft lighting bouncing off the delicate lace and silk, the smell of freshly brewed coffee mixing with the faint scent of roses. Mom had impeccable taste when it came to design, and it showed in every corner of the shop.

After turning on the lights and setting everything up, I put on the radio like I always did. The shop wouldn’t open for another fifteen minutes, so I had some time to kill. The thought of Chris floated back into my mind as I leaned against the counter, doom scrolling through Instagram.

Maybe Instagram was my best bet for reconnecting with him. Facebook had been a bust, everything was wiped there, but maybe his Instagram account would offer something more. I just wanted to know what he looked like now at least.

I typed his name into the search bar and found him easily enough. @christophersturniolo. My heart skipped a beat when I saw his profile, and funnily enough I was already following him, must have been from years ago. But that feeling quickly faded when I realized it was just as ghostly as his Facebook. Only two posts, both from 2018. No profile picture. Nothing else. It was like he had disappeared from the internet, or at least from any part of it that was publicly accessible.

I clicked into the first post, squinting at the photo. It was a shot of him and a couple of other guys, standing pool side which looked like Nate’s back garden, if I could remember correctly. They were all grinning, arms slung around each other’s shoulders. I was about to scroll down when something on the radio caught my attention.

“…another victim in the ongoing feud between the Crimson Cartel and the H Block gangs. The man, whose identity is being withheld until the family is notified, but is said to be apart of the H Block gang, was found dead on Charles Street late last night in what police believe to be a gang related hit. Authorities are urging anyone with information to come forward…”

I froze, my thumb hovering over the screen of my phone as the news report continued.

The Crimson Cartel. I’d heard of them before, everyone had. They were one of the biggest gangs in Boston, notorious for their drug trafficking and violent turf wars. And now, it seemed like things were escalating again, another life lost to the senseless cycle of crime and violence.

It was awful. The idea that people could get dragged into something like that just to make ends meet, that they could lose themselves to drugs or crime, it always hit me hard. Maybe it was because I’d led such a different life, a life of relative privilege, that it felt so distant. But now, with everything I was learning in law school, it didn’t feel so distant anymore. One day, I’d probably be defending people caught up in situations like this, people who made bad decisions, sure, but who were still human, who still deserved a chance.

I shook my head, pulling myself out of my thoughts. I glanced down at my phone, intending to close out of Instagram, but then I noticed something that made my heart skip a beat.

The little heart icon beneath Chris’s post… it was red.

Did I just like that? My stomach dropped. I must’ve tapped it without realizing while I was distracted by the radio. Panic surged through me as I scrambled to unlike the post, but the damage was already done.

Chris would get a notification. He’d know I’d liked his post from 2018, after all this time, after years of no contact. What would he think? Would he even care? A million thoughts raced through my head, but there was no taking it back now.

I stood there for a moment, staring at my phone screen in disbelief. What had I just done?

A/n: ooooooo first part im exciteddddd, im hoping to have a posting schedule of Tuesdays, Thursdays and Sundays. But that may vary week to week depending how busy I am<3

taglist: @mattybearnard @sturn-33 @ncm9696 @yourfavsturniologirl @crazy4jewel @sodakid1234 @stupendoustreewinner @lovealwayssturniolos @matthewsturniolosss @m4ttsmunch @loveexxx @ilusa @starkeyszn @wonnieeluvvr @dylnblue @valxrieq @maggot3647 @cigarettecemetary @ribread03 @chrisstvrns @bandasaruswrx @noplaceissafeanymore @amexiass @witchofthehour @mattssgf @jetaimevous @v33angel @ivysturnss @urmom69lol @ashlishes @watercolorskyy @sturnioloshottiekay @amelia-sturniolo3 @imjusthereforthesturniolosmut @pvssychicken @alizestvrnss @lvrsturniolo

#snowy speaks #allies or affiliates?#matt sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #chris sturniolo #matt sturniolo x reader #nick sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #the sturniolo triplets #chris sturniolo x reader #dealer!chris

222 notes · View notes

achromatophoric · 1 month ago

Text

Wenclairtober 2024, Day 6 - Worst Fear

The gang is gathered in a quad carpeted with shreds of a distinctively red fabric. On the ground is Wednesday, curled into a tight ball, with Enid clutching her protectively while glaring up the others.

Enid: This isn’t funny.

Bianca: It kinda is. Nevermore’s infamous tiny terror, sower of trauma, needing us to rescue her from a fear demon? Irony much?

Ajax: Dude, I’m pretty sure I saw her crying.

Enid: Shut up.

Yoko: *eyes Enid* Guys, let’s change the subject.

Kent: Yeah, that thing wasn’t even scary! Just a ginormous red duffel bag. Like, what the shit?

Bianca: Why that was Addams’ worst fear is beyond me. Fucking weird.

Enid: Shut. Up.

Yoko: Guys!

Ajax: And the stuff it was screaming on repeat! What was it again?

Kent: I think it was “You want to be alone, Wednesday? Then be alone.”

Wednesday: *curls tighter*

Bianca: Huh. The demon’s voice. Didn’t it sound kinda like—

Enid: *snaps* SHUT THE FUCK UP!

The Nightshades turn to stare in absolute shock. Enid’s face is twisted in a feral snarl, irises burning an irradiated blue and carnivore’s teeth on full display. Only Yoko notices the hints of something beneath the rage.

Guilt.

Yoko: *claps sharply* Okay! Nightshades, OUT. Let’s give them some space.

Still stunned, the others put up no argument as Yoko hurriedly leads them out of the Quad. Enid manages an appreciative nod to her best friend, who returns it with a sympathetic look.

Enid: Shh-shh-shh. We’re alone now, Willa. You’re safe. You’re okay.

Wednesday: *barely whispers* Please don’t go.

Enid: I’m not going anywhere. I’m right here.

Wednesday: You are. You’re going to leave me again. And it will be my fault.

Enid: Oh baby, no. That’s not true.

Wednesday: I tried to keep you safe. Back in that mansion. Made sure you got in first. Kept you behind me. But I— *choked sob*

Wednesday: I only hurt you. Like I hurt everyone. And I’m so sorry.

Enid: Willa, you— no, we didn’t know. You did hurt me back then, but I didn’t have to abandon you like that. If I knew how badly it hurt you—

Wednesday: I deserved it. And I’ll deserve the next time.

Enid: There won’t be a next time.

Wednesday: There will. I haven’t seen it, but I know. I will hurt you again, and again, and again. And you’ll leave, until you finally don’t come back, and I— *sobs*

Wednesday: *brokenly* I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m—

Enid: Wednesday, listen to me. I promise you, no matter what happens, I won’t shut you out. We’ll work on it, together. I love you.

Wednesday: —sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m—

Enid tightens her hold on the seer as she disassociates into her non-communicative chant. The two remain there for hours, the werewolf gently comforting her mate with soothing words and firm touch. She doesn’t know how long Wednesday will need, but she is committed. She won’t abandon her again.

Not now.

Not ever.

#wenclairtober2024 #worst fear #ptsd #incorrect wenclair #incorrect wednesday addams #incorrect wednesday quotes #enid sinclair #bianca barclay #ajax petropolus #kent wednesday #yoko tanaka #wednesday addams #the nightshades #wenclairtober 2024 #wednesday netflix #wenclair #incorrect quotes #wenclairtober

373 notes · View notes

moonydustx · 7 months ago

Note

Hii, i was wondering if you would like to write something about zoro being jealous? Just that haha :) btw i love your writing!

Hi Hi Hi! First, thank you for the request and the compliment, they really make my day. And second, sorry for the delay in writing, I ended up getting stuck with some work deadlines. I loved the idea and although our little greenie has a tough exterior, I think he would be one of those jealous people who refuses to admit it, you know? I think I ended up going on a more protective side with this one, but I hope you like it.

A not so friendly friend

Roronoa Zoro x F!Reader Warnings: Zoro is jealous and a little protective of his girl, he and F!Reader have a kind of secret relationship. A little smut at the end, nothing super explicit. Summary: The Straw Hats arrive on one of the islands where you lived for many years and, to your delight, you meet a long-time friend. Someone in the crew doesn't seem that happy.

requests open | one piece masterlist

It was almost impossible to keep your euphoria contained within your body. You hadn't set foot on that island in years and finally, you could spend a few days there - even if it was just long enough to record the Log Pose.

"Someone seems anxious to me." Usopp leaned next to you as the Sunny finished docking in the small port.

"Right after I left my home island, I spent a few years here, I believe I can still find some friends."

"I hope they're nice people."

"They sure are!" the two of you quickly turned your attention to Luffy, who was shouting that everything was ready to disembark. The two quickly walked towards the group, this time Franky would be responsible for taking care of the ship.

"We're finally here!" Robin joined the two of you. "From what you told me, there's a big library around here."

"Yes, I'll take you there, we also have great restaurants…" you listed. "Wait, how are we going to split up?"

"Well, from what you told me, it's five days until Log Pose finishes recording and since it seems to be an important island for you, we can do most of the things together." Nami explained and waited for the others to agree. "We've already distributed everyone's money, but today we're going after…"

"Food!" Luffy interrupted her and immediately felt Nami's hand slap him. "But you promised to take me out for that delicious pie." he turned to you.

"Yes, we will. Let's go down first, shall we?" you asked and everyone immediately agreed.

Like many other times, you watched Zoro go down first and almost automatically stretch out his hand for you to support yourself and go down. That gesture didn't go unnoticed by your crewmates, but they knew your personality well enough not to question it.

The group continues calmly to the island's central square. New stores, old schools, even some salespeople were the same and seemed to have recognized you when you waved, your cheeks already hurt from the fixed smile.

"I remember in that bar over there one time…" you commented and heard something in the background.

"Kitten?"

Everyone immediately turned towards the voice that called you as they watched you become a figure as you ran towards the blonde haired boy.

"Leo!" recognizing your former friend immediately, you threw yourself into his arms, allowing the man to lift you off the ground.

"Seems like she's well liked here." Robin chuckled as he watched you practically spin around.

"Is he also a pirate?" Brook analyzed him. "What do you think."

"He seems like a nice guy." Chopper replied smiling

"Kitten?" Zoro practically groaned when he heard the nickname, muttering under his breath.

Even with the man's hands on your waist, squeezing you tightly and your laugh being heard from afar, the way the word had come out of the other guy's mouth made it clear that Zoro wouldn't like his stay there in that city.

"Guys, I need to introduce him to you…" you pulled the man by the hand, bringing him closer to the gang. "This is Leo, he was one of the best friends I had here."

"I went?"

"Still one of the best friends." you laughed, being pulled into a side hug by the man. "Let me introduce my friends, Straw Hats."

You made a point of introducing each friend one by one and again that seemed to bother Zoro. Friend? His little rationality reminded him that you had never made anything clear about the implicit situations between the two of you, but the small bad feeling - which he refused to name - bothered him.

"Come on, I'll take you to our base." the man continued holding hands with you and guided the others.

"Wow, how different you look." "So, how has it been exploring the sea?" "I bet you haven't found anyone as good as me."

Every time the man opened his mouth to praise you, Zoro felt his hand grip tighter against the sword in his sheath. Just one of the three and he would do all the damage that crossed his mind. It was a strange feeling, watching you there with someone else, even if they were talking. Something that stirred any butterfly that might exist in his stomach, that made his eyes turn red, his hands itch to get him out and take that Leo's place. Zoro hated this new feeling that came over him.

"Hey Zoro." your voice woke him up from his trance. "Did you know that Leo is also a swordsman?"

"Interesting." His tone of voice was almost cynical, going unnoticed by you.

"This one is the executor." Leo pointed to the sword in his sheath. "It was supposed to have another name." the man turned suggestively to you.

"I would never let you use my name for that thing." you grumbled, turning back to Zoro. "He's one of the best swordsmen on the island."

"What's your bounty?" the provocation was implicit in the cynical smile that adorned Zoro's lips and this time, it had reached your eyes.

"I don't have one." the man replied calmly, reassuring you.

"Interesting." Zoro repeated and followed in silence.

The others seemed distracted, talking amongst themselves, but your eyes started to turn around a few times, following the green-haired man who started to walk further behind the group.

The afternoon passed quickly on the island. You met up with some other friends who didn't seem to be as close as Leo and when night fell, everyone decided to go to a bar. Everyone except one person.

"Zoro, can we talk?" you asked, moving away from the group that entered the place full of drinks and noise. "What is happening?"

"About what?"

"You barely spoke to me today and now you're refusing to drink?" you stood on your tiptoes, to touch his forehead. "Are you sure you don't want me to call Chopper to make sure you're not sick?"

"Everything is fine." he responded directly, even if he wasn't harsh, his eyes made it clear that something was wrong. "I'm going to go back to Sunny, take advantage of the free time to train."

"Greenie, please." the nickname you used so much to irritate him came out sweeter than he expected from your lips. That made it even harder for him to deny any of your requests.

"It's okay sweetie." his hand touched yours and the memories of watching you all day arm in arm with Leo made him pull away. "Your friends are waiting for you, go."

You watched him leave and even though your body almost involuntarily wanted to follow him, you let Zoro return to the ship.

The remaining four days felt like an eternity to Zoro. Something told him not to move away from you and on the other hand, with every laugh you gave Leo's direction, it was as if he was hurting himself. Why did he have to feel this way? It was just a friendship, wasn't it?

He managed to control himself, many times he managed to control himself. Seeing you have lunch next to him, watching the man carry you from one place to another, the stupid gifts he insisted on giving you and even Leo daring to say he could train you with swords.

Zoro didn't know if there was a god or something, but he thanked the heavens when the last night began to fall. The next morning, you would set sail and he would no longer be forced to share his attention with the idiot who called himself your friend.

The tall bonfire at the edge of the small forest was surrounded by members of the Straw Hats, Leo and some other friends. Drinks and food piled up, as did stories and songs that Brook made a point of singing. Your lips no longer smiled so much, especially when your favorite swordsman met your gaze. He was distant, it had been five days since you had barely been able to speak to him and when you did, he seemed to be as dry as the Alabasta desert. On the other hand, these days you had met a much clingier version of Leo, even uncomfortable and you didn't know how to get away - and apparently the person who could help you with this, didn't seem to be so worried.

"Kitten?" Leo bent down, stopping at your ear level. "Can we talk alone real quick?"

"Why?" you asked, seeing him find the question strange.

"We need more booze!" the man ignored what you said and said it out loud. Pretending he wasn't already talking to you, he nudged you. "Come on, help me, kitten."

Zoro watched the man say something to you and your expression changed, sulking. Leo repeated the gesture again, ignoring that he had already spoken to you. Something possessive took over Zoro - something was wrong and he wouldn't sit still until he found out what it was. Leaving the sake aside, the swordsman stood up and, following a more hidden path than yours, accompanied you to the back of the warehouse - which was the supposed base that Leo had presented a few days ago.

"What is this, Leo?" you stopped in front of him, seeing that they had taken a different direction than you expected.

"I know you're leaving tomorrow, but… Why wouldn't you stay here?" he asked and you immediately shook your head, before your lips could even say it.

"They're my family now. I still adore you, everyone here, but I'm going back to the sea." Your answer seemed to disappoint him. "You know it's always been my dream."

"I know it's selfish of me." the man approached, holding your wrists and, more gently than you expected, he guided you against the wall. "I like you, I always have. If you want, we can go to the sea together, we can form a family, we can…"

"I have a boyfriend." Leo laughed in disbelief, still keeping your arms tied to his, in an even tighter grip. "Leo, you've always been my best friend. Let's not ruin that."

"Friends? You've been missing for years!" he growled, slamming your fists against the wall.

For a few seconds Zoro chose to just watch, hatred was in his eyes and if it weren't for your presence there, Leo would already be just a memory in this world. He knew you weren't a lady in distress and that if you wanted to get out of there, you would get out easily. But there was something written in your eyes, something he saw very few times in battle - fear.

Before the man repeated the gesture, you watched Leo's face get closer and when he was millimeters away, he stopped. His eyes immediately widened and before you understood what the glow was on the side of his neck, you saw a small trickle of blood appear on the man's jugular vein.

"Get your filthy hands off my girlfriend…" Zoro's low tone was even more threatening than if he had been shouting. "Before I take them out of your arms."

"So it's him." Leo muttered, frustration clear in his voice. "I should have suspected."

"I'm sorry." you whispered, without even understanding why you were apologizing.

"I could kill you right now and believe me, I'm still debating whether to do it." Zoro approached, now allowing Leo's entire neck to be covered by the blade. "But I'd hate to ruin the banquet."

"Don't worry about that." Leo threatened to pull his sword, but this time it was you who held his hand.

"Just go back there Leo, let's pretend this didn't happen." you asked and Zoro could now notice how stressed you looked, but at the same time relief appeared on your face.

"She's right." Zoro muttered, moving even closer to the man. "Let's pretend none of this happened and maybe tomorrow you won't wake up just to choke on your blood and die."

"Zoro!" Your voice sounded like a warning to him, who lowered his sword and let the man leave.

For a few seconds, the two of you just watched each other. It was good to be able to have your boyfriend there, finally within walking distance of you.

"How are you feeling?" Zoro took the initiative and held your hands, as if analyzing where the man touched you. When you felt them trembling, he placed a quick kiss between your fingers. "Did he do anything else?"

"No, he just wanted me to stay here." you let your body lean against the cold wall. "Why just now?"

"What do you mean by that?"

"All week I've been trying to reach you, bring you with me, integrate you with my friends here." you huffed, feeling Zoro get even closer to your body.

"I wanted to give you space." he lied and saw you laugh. The sound - which this time was exclusively for him - made Zoro's ego inflate.

"I didn't know you were the jealous type." a moan of relief almost escaped you when you felt his arms wrap around your waist.

"Not jealous, just protective."

"What's your bounty?" you imitated him, laughing again. "Isn't that jealousy?"

"No, kitten." this time, he let a soft laugh escape his lips.

"I am sorry dear." you sank into his chest, letting his hands slide down your back. "I was excited to see everything again and I didn't understand Leo's real intentions."

"And why didn't you defend yourself?" your eyes met his and then Zoro realized his mistake. "I mean, I'll always defend you, but I've seen you get out of worse situations."

"I know." Again you cuddled up, the cold wind sent shivers through your body. "It's just that he was a friend, you know? He saved me many times and I guess I didn't expect to have to fight with him. He was never a threat." The sound of Zoro's heart against your ear was comforting, it was like going back to any of the crows nest nights, where you would stay tangled up for hours. "I found his behavior strange, he was never like that, clingy. But I didn't know who to ask for help."

"I imagine it would be difficult." Zoro murmured, letting his lips touch the top of your head. "Sorry I didn't show up sooner, kitten." he teased you, getting another laugh from you.

"Time to stop this kitten."

"Are you sure, kitten?" he said again, but Zoro's voice came out a few octaves lower, his provocation took a new turn.

His hands that had been caressing your back found themselves on your waist and pressed you against the wall. One of them went up to your chin and held you steady, looking into his eyes, but not for long. Eliciting a moan, Zoro took your lips intensely. No time for little kisses, or any affection that could come first. His lips brought longing and the taste of sake, mixed with the sweetness of your lips.

One of his legs fit between your thighs, the hands that held your waist forced you against the fabric of his pants, moving you like an incentive. While the assault on your lips didn't stop, the heat in your intimacy began to accumulate and form a knot.

"Zoro, please." a strangled moan left your lips, trying hard to contain the noise and not attract the attention of anyone nearby.

"I'm here, love. I got you, just give it to me." his lips that bordered the sensitive spot below your ear took your lips and held all your moans just for him.

Zoro held you there for some time, sweat accumulated on your face as you were still panting. It was a version that didn't appear that often, but you loved it when Zoro lost himself caressing your face, letting his lips slide delicately across your skin.

"Zo, I think we should go back." despite yourself, you moved away from him a little. "By now, Leo should already have contact for everyone."

"Great, at least for one good thing this good-for-nothing will do." upon noticing your lost look, Zoro continued. "I was tired of hiding it."

"Are you sure?" his hands cupped your face, placing a chaste kiss on your lips.

"I love you woman, how can I not be sure of that?" the confession brought a huge smile to your lips.

"I love you more greenie."

Zoro took the lead and with his hand tied in yours, he guided you back to the fire. It was as if nothing had happened, everyone was still talking and drinking. Still feeling your legs weak from the little time you and Zoro had, you sat down and let him go get drinks.

Upon returning to his place, Zoro saw that even without saying anything, Leo was still staring at you, practically on the other side of the fire. With his chest puffed out in ego and relieved to finally have you back in his arms, Zoro sat behind you, so that you were between his legs and when he handed you your drink, he placed a kiss and a light bite on your neck. You were his and from now on that would be very clear.

"It can't be! It's too bad luck all at once!" Sanji's tearful voice attracted the attention of both of you and made you laugh out loud when you saw that the blonde was complaining precisely about the little scene between you two. "What does this mosshead have that I don't?"

"I knew!" Nami screamed and ripped Chopper's hat off. "You can go give me your money, you idiots."

"You guys bet on us?" you asked indignantly and to Nami, Usopp and Franky's joy, apparently they were the two winners.

"This world needs to end…" you laughed even harder when you saw Sanji handing the money to the navigator.

"That's it, now there are two idiots wanting what's mine." Zoro pulled you even closer to his body. "Only mine."

#reader insert #fiction #no use of y/n #requests open #zoro x you #zoro roronoa x reader #one piece zoro #zoro x reader #roronoa zoro x reader #one piece fic

370 notes · View notes