#rather than a confirmation of what we already knew
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vaguely-concerned · 1 year ago
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In light of the info about the properties of souls in The Unwanted Guest, I want to shout out that Gideon — with no grounding in the theoretical underpinnings of the subject whatsoever — actually makes basically the same observation about the permeability of the soul at the end of Harrow the Ninth, when she's in Harrow's body and (with some justification) is pretty sure she's about to die in the River:
Harrowhark, did you know that if you die by drowning, apparently your whole life flashes in front of your eyes? I didn't know, as I died and took you along with me—having kept you alive for what, a whole two hours?—whether it was going to show me both. Like, at the end of everything, if it was going to be you and me, layered over each other as we always were. A final blurring of the edges between us, like water spilt over ink outlines. Melted steel. Mingled blood. Harrowhark-and-Gideon, Gideon-and-Harrowhark at last.
‘As we always were’! ‘Melted steel, mingled blood’! (Also interesting that despite saying earlier in the book that all she ever wanted was for Harrow to eat her (oh Gideon), the metaphors Gideon reaches for here are not about consumption ala what Ianthe’s deal and thus traditional lyctorhood is presented as in TUG, it’s about similar and equal substances joining together to a new whole, more like what we see with Paul. I personally feel like a Paul-style merging for Harrow and Gideon is not in the cards and would not be a satisfying ending — it worked as a bittersweet conclusion specifically for Pal and Cam because those two are utterly nuts in all their sanity lol, but I don’t think the series means to present it as The definitive answer to the central question of individuation vs. connection. There is something so moving to me, though, in the fact that right at the end this is what Gideon wants for her and Harrow. Not for Harrow to eat her, not simply to be of use to her, but to be made together from the same stuff. It’s a longing for connection and union that’s finally at least in imagery free from the imbalance within the ultimately hierarchical roles of necromancer and cavalier that Gideon internalizes through her corruption arc in Gideon the Ninth, understandably so as it’s the only model she’s presented with in their society to understand intimacy and attachment and devotion through. But Gideon says Harrowhark-and-Gideon, Gideon-and-Harrowhark at last, mutually and equally. And I’ve written about this before, but at what must be almost exactly the same time, the same process is happening in Harrow’s mind through the evolution in the symbolism of her dream bubbles. Help I am emotions now) 
Palamedes is so right, Gideon is a lot smarter than most people -- including Gideon herself -- ever give her credit for.
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camgoloud · 5 months ago
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he still has his tonsils. by the way if you even care
#sorry this is fucking UNINTELLIGIBLE but unfortunately i’m still on my bullshit about dr. daddyissues. yeah it’s gonna be all month#i am rotating episode 2.8 ‘the mistake’ in my head at breakneck speed. i am gnawing on it i want to swallow it#oh he’s such a lying liar who lies. charming little bastard. would rather die/lose his license than express one wholly unaffected emotion#‘he thinks not giving a crap makes him like house. like it’s something to aspire to’ quick question HOW serious do the daddy issues have to#be before you start latching on to fucking GREGORY HOUSE as a paternal figure and role model. really#even cameron is not down this bad. even WILSON is not down this bad.#the daddy issues of it all are very understandable though because even setting aside whatever went down back in childhood that shit his#father did to him in seasons 1-2 is SO messed up. jesus#imagine traveling all the way across the world to the hospital your son works in for a consult which confirms what you already knew: you’re#going to die of cancer in like 2 months. making a whole point out of stopping by to visit your son. not telling him what’s going on.#letting him spend a whole episode’s worth of time gradually coming to terms with his complicated feelings towards you (complicated on#account of a whole childhood of objectively awful parenting). the kid finally is able to try reaching back out to you. after YOU initiated#the contact in the first place. how do you react? well obviously by telling him ‘oh sorry i actually have to get in a taxi right now’ and#fucking back off to the other side of the world without giving him a chance to actually talk to you at all and resolve any of the emotions#you just dredged up. oh by the way you still haven’t fucking told him you’re about to die and in fact actively mislead him into thinking#he’s going to have the chance to try meeting with you again next time he visits your home country.#especially fucked up given that the whole reason it DID take your son so long to come around THIS time is that he feels like every time#he’s tried reaching out to you in the past you’ve just disappointed him by refusing to put in the effort to meet him there.#And Now Here We Are Again.#rowan what the FUCK is wrong with you. i want to dig you up and kill you again#house md#robert chase#caseyposting
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anchorandrope · 2 months ago
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#regarding the liam and maya situation: i have a lot to say that i cannot express in tags and some of yall are still in a huge denial phase#but as i said the day we first knew about maya's book - im believing her. i believe she is a victim. im believing the victim.#i do trust women who make allegations without explicitly showing proof on social media because thats what i stand for. i rather believe a#liar than believing and abuser. with her; with you; and with every women (and everyone) out there even if i don't like her.#if you have a problem with this value i have: i recommend to unfollow me. because i believe her and that won't change.#and the tiktok she posted acknowledging 1d's fanbase behaviour is not only well-worded; but her non verbal language does match what she is#saying. i hope liam can get out of his addiction and i hope he can recognise his actions to be able to change for good; yes. but that doesn#change what he already did. i have plenty of reasons to believe maya - and seeing so many fellow fans saying shit in her comments like#“you're a liar until you post proof” “if you're saying the truth then sue him” “this is pr for the book” etc etc. insane and concerning.#yall talk like cishet men defending their friends btw. the exact same “arguments”...... is sad to see other women saying this. it breaks my#heart. and as someone who is studying PR genuinely fuck yall ???? yall don't even know what tf we do yall just blame us for every shit in#the industry when in reality its not our fault all the amount of crap yall say it is our fault. if i ask yall to even define what we do#im sure 99.99% won't even know the difference between PR/Marketing/Publicity. get my name and my fellow PR people out of your shit ??? wtf?#its diabolical to blame this on PR. seriously whatin the actual fuck. it doesn't even make sense????? fuck offffffff#i hope maya henry may find peace; i hope she can recover and overcome as well as possible. im disgusted by the behaviour almost everyone is#having. im not praying for a downfall or hoping bad things on liam but i definitely won't defend any of this. and tbh yall shouldn't either#on the other side: i hope she better not talk in any kind of way about louis/harry situation#but because that would mess stuff up in multiple ways. they don't need to be dragged in this. at all.#we don't need “official” denials nor confirmations of people that are not them in any type of way.#anyway... how's the weather i guess#maya henry
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strangersteddierthings · 5 months ago
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Eddie blinks. Once. Twice. And a third time for good measure. The scene before him doesn't change. Steve Harrington stands off to the side of the lunch table, behind Jeff and Frankie who have both gone still as statues like they think if they don't move, King Steve won't see them.
"Uh, what?" Eddie finds himself saying, against his own will. He heard Harrington the first time, doesn't need or want him to repeat himself, but his disbelief seems to have won out against his grudge for all jocks and his indifference to Steve Harrington in particular.
Harrington's face pinches, like he's three seconds away from rolling his eyes. He doesn't do that, though, which Eddie will give him one brownie point for. "I asked if you had a minute to talk." Eddie's taking away his brownie point because Steve 'asks' in a way that sounds more like a demand.
Hearing the question and or demand a second time doesn't lower Eddie's hackles, but it does pique his curiosity. He drums his fingers atop his lunchbox, thinking it over. He wishes he could say he's pretending to think about it before he tells Harrington to fuck off, but the truth is he actually is thinking about it.
What could Harrington possibly have to say to him? They very much do not run in the same circles. Eddie only talks business at the picnic table past the edge of the woods out back and everyone who buys from him knows that. They share several classes, since they're both seniors, but everyone knows Eddie's on a track to not graduate (again) so he can't possibly be coming to discuss Mrs. Click's homework assignment.
"Sure. Should we go elsewhere or...?" Eddie trails off, lifting a hand to wave in a circle in Steve's direction, questioning.
Steve looks over his shoulder, back towards the side of the cafeteria taken up by the 'popular' crowd. When Steve turns his face back, he looks- well, kind of sad for a moment before it's smoothed over with indifference.
Interesting.
"No. It's probably good that the rest of your friends hear it anyway," Steve answers.
Jeff's eyebrows rise to his hairline, and Frankie frowns as his eyebrows raise at the same time, showing an expression of interest. Eddie's got no idea what Gareth's face is doing because Eddie can't see him unless he wants to turn his face away, but he's certain it's probably a glare of some sort.
Eddie leans back in his chair, wiggling like he's getting extra comfortable before he says, "Well, alright Harrington. Shoot."
"I'm graduating this year, so I just wanted to give you a heads up for next year. I tried to curb the bullying, but I know it still happened. So, since I'm not going to be here to watch out for that, you're gonna wanna up your," Steve gestures to all of Eddie, "everything."
He knew Steve curbed the bullying a bit, heard the confirmation of that last year from Jason Carver and Tommy Hagan, when he'd stepped in to save Gareth. Or rather, Gareth had come flying in to save him and then Eddie had to save Gareth- well, the details don't matter really.
"My everything?" Eddie asks, more confused than angry. He thinks he should be angry. Harrington has all but outright said he doesn't think Eddie's going to graduate with him, after all. But no. The main emotion now is confusion.
"Yeah. Your, y'know, freakinesss or whatever. Be more of it."
"Be more of a freak?" It's fascinating, that Harrington just keeps talking like he thinks anyone at this table care for his opinion.
"Yeah!" Harrington says, cheery like he thinks that Eddie's agreed with him somehow, complete with a stupid snap of his fingers that turns into a finger gun pointed at Eddie. "You've already got this like unapproachable mad dog kind of look about you, most of the JV team is already scared of you. Just like, up that a bit more and they'll probably steer clear of you and your friends." Then Harrington frowns deep, looking around the table of nerds and dorks before looking down at the top of Gareth's head to add, "well. Except probably curly here. No offense, but you seem an easy target."
"Fuck off," Gareth growls, because of everyone at the table, Gareth does have the most bite. (Most bark goes to Eddie himself). Eddie's more prone to run from a problem than engage in it, unlike Gareth, who he's had to pull off of a few people this year.
"Or not," Harrington retracts his previous statement and Eddie will grant the man another brownie point, which brings the total up to one.
"Good to know my reputation precedes me," Eddie grins, wild and a bit manic.
Harrington is unphased. "Yeah! Do that more. I think it really freaks Jason out and he's most likely to take the captain slot next year, so if you get him afraid of you, the rest of the team'll fall in line and leave you alone too. I think he's super religious, so like, lean into the satanic panic thing people are up in arms about and next year will be a breeze. And-"
Eddie lifts a hand, a motion for Harrington to stop talking. It surprised him a little that Harrington does. Even more interesting. "Stop me if I'm wrong here, Harrington, but are you suggesting that I become the bully?"
Harrington's mouth opens and closes a few times before his face pinches again. Instead of looking like he's going to roll his eyes and be bitchy, Harrington looks confused and then like he's deep in thought. An uncomfortable amount of awkward silence falls over there table, but it's just when Eddie's about to break that silence that Harrington finally speaks. "No. I'm saying just like, be you but bigger. Like, you don't even gotta look in the team's direction. If you're just more of a freak than you usually are, they'll steer clear without the bullying."
"You sure know how to compliment a guy," Eddie deadpans. He's not even upset that Steve's called him a freak. He's spent the majority of his high school career cultivating that outlook. He wasn't just a freak, he was The Freak.
Now a look crosses Harrington's face. One Eddie's not sure he's interpreting correctly. If he had to take a guess, he'd say the look was calculating, knowing, in a way that Eddie doesn't think Harrington could actually achieve. Then it's gone, replaced with the bitchy, eye-rolling look Eddie's used to seeing, and Harrington says, "I haven't said anything untrue."
Hmm. The most interesting thing yet. Eddie might not be graduating (again) but he's not dumb. He didn't survive this far in his life, with a father like his, without learning to read people. He wasn't as good as he wanted to be at reading people last year, but he's definitely good enough know to think that, maybe, just maybe, Harrington also knows a thing or two about cultivating a public perception. Making sure people only see a certain side of you.
"Alright," is what Eddie answers, "I'll take what you've said under advisement."
"Uh. Okay," Harrington says before he just walks away. Conversation over.
"Well," Jeff says, "that was strange."
"Very," Eddie agrees as he watches Harrington walk away, tracking him until the cafeteria door slams shut behind him when he exits.
Eddie has always wanted to up the ante, so to speak. Jump on a cafeteria table and rant about capitalism and organized sports. He never has before but next year seems like a great time to try.
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entirelysein-e · 1 month ago
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『 Sharing is caring 』
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☼ synopsis: Geto wanted you all to himself but couldn't resist sharing you with his best friend
☼ characters: Satoruo Gojo, Suguru Geto
☼ wc: 1.5k
☼ cw: fem!reader, afab!reader, sub!reader, unprotected sex, pet names, getting caught, oral (giving and receiving), creampie, cum eating, Gojo sucking off Geto
☼ Kinktober Masterlist
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You should have known better than to follow your boyfriend into the showers of Jujutsu high despite having showered together multiple times before - today was different since you both came back from different missions and the weeks spent apart were hard on the both of you, wanting to spend every second together right now. Geto knew you were following right behind him, turning the water as hot as you like it as his hungry eyes watched you undress for the hundredth time, but he somehow never got bored of the sight in front of him.
When you finally joined him under the stream of the steaming water his arms pulled you into a tight embrace, holding your body as close as he possibly could. “I missed you,” his voice broke the rippling sound of water hitting the ground and you hugged him a little tighter, still looking for your voice as the lump in your throat grew “I was so worried for you,” you eventually mumbled into his strong chest, teary eyes getting disguised by the water hitting your face but you could see the pain in his, the fear being mutual. His soft lips pressed against your forehead in a gentle manner, his way of confirming that you're actually with him, finally again after this time apart, before his lips found their way to yours, bodies still tightly pressed together under the hot water.
The kiss grew hungry quite fast, skin rubbing against skin as your tongues fought for dominance until he pushed you against the cold tiles of the wall and slowly lifted you up by the thighs which instinctively wrapped around his waist just like hundred times before. You could feel his hard length rub against your folds, whining at the feeling of the thick vein that runs across the underside of his shaft nudging over your neglected clit.
All these weeks you held back from touching yourself, knowing it will be worth it when you reunite with your lover again, overly sensitive to his touch now and he knew all too well, smirking at your mewls.
“Can we skip foreplay?” You ask with a pout, not wanting to wait any longer to finally have him inside of you and he couldn't agree any faster, the bulbous tip of his dick already pushing into your tight entrance which made you claw onto his shoulders and leave red streaks behind on accident. When Geto bottomed out he groaned, pinning you between his body and the wall while his hips remained entirely still, needing you to adjust so you're not clamping down on him like this. Staying quiet was hard when he started moving, gently rocking into your core but you didn't want to risk getting caught.
Little do you know that your boyfriend's white haired friend was already watching the both of you through the crack in the door, wanting to talk to Geto about the mission they were on, but clearly his friend was rather busy.
When Geto set you onto the ground and turned you around before slipping back inside of you from the back your eyes met the icy blue ones of Gojo through the mirror, a gasp escaping your lips as you tried to tell Geto but all that left your lips was an unnecessary loud moan.
“You know, Satoru… watching is rude,” your lover pointed out between pants and your admirer opened the door a little further, revealing his face that wore a smug grin, despite his cheeks being dusted pink, the erection painfully clear in his pants which made you bite your lip. This didn't go by unnoticed by Geto, thrusting into you extra hard before smirking down at you.
“What do you say, princess? Want him to join?” He asked you, knowing his friend harbored a crush on you for years now and you certainly didn't mind having him join. Gojo spent time with you two as the third wheel the entire time, oftentimes sleeping at your place and even sharing the bed with you so why not share this experience with him too?
“Yes,” you eventually rasped out, your velvet walls fluttering around your lover's cock which made him chuckle, feeling just how excited you were to have a second man taking care of you.
Gojo didn't need to hear this twice, stripping himself while walking over to the shower with long strides, giving you barely enough time to marvel at his physique until he stood in front of you, his pale cock right in your face and leaking precum already.
“Go on, be a good girl. Show Satoru what you're best at,” the man behind you reassured you and you gave him one last look over your shoulder to make sure that he's entirely okay with this, knowing how possessive he can be - but there's nothing he wouldn't share with Satoru Gojo, he'd even share his beloved.
You took a shaking breath when Geto’s thrusts slowed down, allowing you to focus on the task in front of you and when you looked up at the white haired man he smiled down at you, hand wrapped around his cock and tapping the tip against your lips expectedly.
“You heard him. Now open up, pretty,” he mused, pushing himself into your awaiting mouth. Your tongue swirled around his tip, tasting his precum before slowly bobbing your head up and down his shaft. It felt new and exciting, having another man's dick in your mouth while your lover pounds into you from behind.
“That's my good girl,” you heard him praise, each of his thrusts pushing you further onto his friend's cock until your nose nestled in the small white bush at the base, gagging violently by the way his cock rested in your throat. You didn't want to compare them but Gojo’s cock sure was longer, although it couldn't match Suguru’s girth. Snapped out of your thoughts by the way Satoru started moving, moaning softly at how good your mouth felt wrapped around him. It made you feel helpless, getting fucked from both sides and all you could to was moan and claw onto Gojos thighs. You held onto them like a lifeline when you felt him twitch on your tongue already, hearing him groan and hold your head down as his hot cum spurts down your throat only to pull out with a pop of your lips soon after, far too sensitive but the loss made you whine.
“Already?” Geto asked amused, teasing his friend but he knew just how good your mouth could feel, changing positions and inviting Satoru to help you get over the edge.
“Just like this,” Suguru mumbled, playing with your clit as he plowed into you, showing his friend how to please you but Satoru knew better, leaning down to latch onto your clit with his lips, sucking gently while his tongue flicked over it rapidly. This alone made your head spin but when your lover started playing with your nipples, his pace picking back up you couldn't help but tumble over the edge, the knot in your stomach finally snapped and your walls clenched around the cock inside of you.
None of the men stopped with what they were doing, a low moan rumbling in Geto's chest as he came deep inside of you, spilling his seed deep inside of you as your walls milked him from everything he had to give while Satoru kept licking your puffy clit until his friend pulled out of you. Smirking up at you with a mischievous glint in his eyes his tongue traveled further down to catch the hot sperm slowly dripping out of you. Satoru’s tongue dipped into your core to clean you up before looking over to his friend, making sure to clean him up as well which caught you by surprise, seeing your lovers best friend latched onto his cock like that but you knew how Geto never got enough, cock still achingly hard and ready for more.
Your legs were shaking slightly when you turned around to help the white haired man, gently massaging Sugurus balls and pulling Satoru back ever so slightly, taking turns on your lover's cock between making out with each other. The sight of this alone made Geto cum over the both of you, eagerly helping to clean the other up from the spilled cum when you noticed that Gojo was ready for another round as well. Slowly your hand moved to stroke him, your eyes looking up at the black haired man as if you're asking for permission which made him chuckle
“Think you can handle the both of us?” He asked curious, wanting to share his most precious princess with his best friend until none of you were able to stand any longer.
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Networks: @pixelcafe-network @interstellar-inn @houseofsolisoccasum
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pippin-katz · 4 months ago
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Edwin's Parents Canonically Did Not Hug Him
I was watching interviews of the boys for a post I'm working on, and fucking excuse me?!
Source: Advocate Channel Interview, Timestamp 3:17
We have confirmation from George that Edwin's parents did not hug him while he was alive. It's due much more to the time period rather than neglectful parenting, but that is still crazy to think about. He also says "parents", meaning both his father and his mother; neither of them gave him any kind of physical affection.
The repressive time period causing Edwin's parents to be very emotionally absent from his life is not a new concept, and it gets brought up in varying intensities in fanfics I've read, but it always felt like a fuzzy, floating concept based on speculation heavily supported by probability. I knew it was an accurate assumption, but I couldn't reach out and touch it, if that makes any sense. Now, it's concrete in my mind.
It gives this scene even more weight:
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Edwin's expressions, while already perfectly understandable, make even more sense. The way he's seemingly pained by the embrace at first. He did not even realize how badly he needed and wanted this kind of affection.
There is such a strong surge of pure joy, comfort, and love from the hug that it hurts him, because he realizes in that moment what he's been deprived of his entire life and existence. Edwin has existed for over a hundred years, and even though it's hard to believe, they've never hugged each other like this in the thirty years they've been together. I don't think I could ever confidently say that they never hugged, ever, in thirty years, especially given how physical Charles is with his affection.
But that expression on Edwin's face in undeniable.
George says earlier in video that Edwin "lacks the skill set to keep up" with all of the new emotions he's experiencing, and you can feel that in the way his face changes.
Edwin hugs him back, and lets out a big breath, relieved and satisfied by the embrace. The wave of emotions passes as he realizes that even if he overwhelmed and terrified by the love he's feeling, it feels good to hug Charles. He realizes that he wants to hug Charles, that he's allowed to want to hug Charles, and that he actually can hug Charles.
God, the amount of emotions Edwin has in that moment that he's completely unequipped for, simply because he's never experienced it, not even from the people closest to him in life. It's heartbreaking, but seeing him learning how it feels to be loved for the first time is so beautiful.
Edwin, the character that you are... George Rexstrew, the actor that you are... 😔🩵
(ko-fi)
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dumbseee · 8 months ago
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reunited.
when you’re the one interviewing lando norris for the podcast you co-created with your best friend, the only issue is that you’re his ex.
lando norris x ex!reader.
fc: riley hubatka.
_
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liked by y/b, yourbestie, ameliadimz and 271 728 others.
cutthecam: guess who’s joining us tomorrow 👀
_
fan1: NO FUCKING WAY???
fan2: THEY’RE HAVING LANDO NORRIS???
fan3: how tf did they manage to get him on that podcast?
fan4: it looks like everyone forgot that y/n and lando used to date…
fan5: WHAT
fan6: FOR REAL???
fan7: is y/n doing the interview?? because yourbestie is literally in cabo partying with tana mongeau
fan8: Y/N AND LANDO REUNITED YEARS AFTER THEIR BREAK UP??
fan9: i used to pray for times like this
fan10: MY DIVORCED PARENTS ARE BACK
see more.
_
imessage:
you:
i fckg hate you bitch
how could you do this to me??
out of EVERYONE you picked lando??
ONLY TO NOT BE THERE FOR THE PODCAST??
yourbestie:
oops 🤪
no fr i totally forgot i was leaving for cabo
thank me later you’re reuniting with the love of your life
you:
BITCH
you’re the first name going on my suicide note
i’m not doing it
AND HES NOT THE LOVE OF MY LIFE
yourbestie:
stop being dramatic omg
you have to be professional
besides mike already confirmed him on the podcast and you doing it
you:
i’d rather bleach my eyes than do it
yourbestie:
it’s been YEARS y/n
btw you still call him in your sleep so maybe he didn’t forget you
why would he even say yes??
he’s totally into you
i can smell it
you:
says WHO
we broke up years ago and he got a lot of gfs after me
but it is weird that he said yes to the podcast when he knew i co-created it
yourbestie:
i told you
totally in love with you
_
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liked by landonorris, yourbestie, tarayummy and 372 819 others.
y/n: 💋
_
yourbestie: you’re so fucking hot
liked by y/n.
fan1: MY QUEEN
fan2: pls invite charles leclerc for your podcast!
fan3: the prettiest podcast owner fr
fan4: your hand in marriage pls maam
fan5: i understand lando tbh i wouldn’t move on if i were him
fan6: pls get back with lando
fan7: she’s so pretty wtf
fan8: forget about lando i need her
fan9: can lando fight?
fan10: I LOVE YOU Y/N
see more.
landonorris just posted a story!
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caption: cheers my friend 🥂
_
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_
imessages.
yourbestie:
you sneaky bitch
"he’s not the love of my life 🤪🤪"
and literally goes to the restaurant with him
LIAR
you:
okay okay let me explain
HE invited me for the sake of old times and i said yes bc i was hungry
yourbestie:
hungry for his dick
you:
WTF NO
EW
as if you’d say no to a free meal in a fancy restaurant
yourbestie:
with your hottie ex bf? ofc i’d say no
(just bc he’s your ex, i would’ve said yes otherwise)
you:
SEE?
anyways i won’t see him ever again
yourbestie:
whatever helps you sleep at night pookie
_
ig message:
landonorris:
hi
i have some paddock pass for the japan gp, wanna come?
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liked by landonorris, larray, monetmcmichael and 562 929 others.
y/n: blocked @.yourbestie for this
_
fan1: OMGGG ITS HAPPENING GUYS
fan2: I KNEW IT
fan3: pls not her blocking her friend bsjslslsl
fan4: how to be her
fan5: YESSSS MY PARENTS ARE BACK
fan6: let’s not jump into conclusions omg they could be friends!
landonorris: nah we’re not
y/n: LANDO
fan7: HOLY SHIRBZJSKLSLS
fan8: OMGGBZKSKSLLSLSLSLS
see more.
imessages:
lando:
can you follow me back now :( ?
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tradgedyinwaves · 2 months ago
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First Choice - Part 3
Part three of this Poly141! x fat!reader tw: social anxiety, self-doubt, drinking, the tiniest hint of touchy-touchy
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You’re immediately declining to join them. You know how this goes. See who bags the fat girl and then drop her on her ass once they’ve gotten what they wanted. It had always been hard for you to find someone that actually found you attractive and wasn’t just trying to fetishize your size. And there was absolutely no way this gorgeous man in front of you ACTUALLY wanted you to join them. 
“Up to you. The offer is there if you want to take it,” the beautiful man replies, a soft smile on his face that you think looks genuine. You sigh and chew your lower lip. You could spend some time with them. At the very least, they look like they’ll keep you entertained until you’re ready to go home for the night. What was the worst that could happen?
“Alright,” you finally utter, picking up your glass and sliding off the stool. The man leads you to his table, having you slide in before him so now you’re squeezed between him and mustache guy. 
“I’m Kyle, by the way. Next to you is Price,” Kyle, you now knew, started introducing his cohorts. “Call me John, please,” Price interjected, lifting your hand and kissing the back of it. The action made you blush a fierce red and you delicately removed your hand from his grasp. “Next to him is So-er, Johnny and the scary looking dude in the mask is Ghost.”
You smile softly at Johnny who winks when he’s introduced and your eyes grow wide in response as you turn your attention to Ghost, who is boring into your soul with his gaze. A gaze that tells you he wants something from you, but you can’t figure out what. Quickly, you avert your eyes and look at the spot between the John(ny)’s heads, telling them your own name as well. 
“Here with friends?” John asks, his arm thrown over the back of the booth behind you. You nod and lean forward to point them out. All three are already on someone’s arm, being fed drink after drink and looking beautiful as always. It made you sigh, though you covered the sound with a cough and returned to looking between the four men. 
“We’ve seen them around the last few weeks, was wondering when you’d come back,” Johnny quipped, a bright smile on his face and his baby blues dancing in the light. Your eyes widened, stunned that they had been thinking about you at all, let alone wondering if you’d be back. A slap to the back of his head from John made you giggle quietly, quickly hiding the sound behind your glass. 
“Wha?! We were!” Johnny exclaimed, now rubbing the back of his head as he grumbled. Kyle rolled his eyes and lifted his own glass to his lips. You were close enough to confirm that it was indeed a rum and coke that he nursed, the smell of the alcohol cutting through the air. 
A blush covered your cheeks once more, the whiskey making you feel looser than normal. Your anxiety was in check for the moment, tampered down to a smolder in your chest rather than the roaring fire it normally is. You leaned against the back of the booth as the conversation picked up around you, no longer quite as afraid of John's thick arm resting over the back.
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Nothing super exciting happened here. Sorry. Trying to keep these around 650 words so part four is accidentally already mostly written at this point.
<- Part Two Part Four ->
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srgntjamesbuckybarnes · 9 months ago
Text
Past, Present, ...
Summary: After sleeping with Bucky after months of comforting him during his nightmares, Y/N returns from a three-week mission to find out she's been replaced.
Rating: Mature
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader
Warnings: Near death, Implying attempted suicide (it's not)
Word Count: 5.7k
A/N: Not Beta'd. Dusting this off from the drafts. I wrote this while sleep deprived. Not sure how we got here but the original ending wasn't a happy one. Enjoy whatever this is instead.
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How much space is too much?
According to James Bucky Barnes, three weeks isn't enough.
Three weeks on an assignment was enough for Y/N to become homesick. She understood she would have to pause her life to save the world, but what no one informed her was that the rest of the world would continue to play.
“Y/L/N?” A familiar voice shouted.
Adjusting the strap of her duffle bag on her shoulder, Y/N turned her head to find her co-worker jogging towards her. Slanting her eyes, Y/N raised her palm to block out the sun.
“Wilson,” she addressed the man when he was near.
Bent over with his hands on his knees, Sam panted. His sweatshirt stretched across his back making the dark patch of sweat more prominent. Squinting up at Y/N, Sam breathed, “Did you just get back?”
Y/N bobbed her head, adjusting the strap on her shoulder once more for emphasis rather than comfort. She did not need to ask to know Sam just returned from his run. He usually ran with Steve and Bucky, but they always finished well before Sam. It wasn’t uncommon for him to return hours after the super-soldiers.
Pushing off his knees, Sam stood, tilting his head toward one of the many entrances in Avengers Tower. He knew better than to offer to carry her duffle bag. The weight of missions was often packed in the bags they returned with.
Y/N and Sam strolled side by side. Sam only paused to open the door for Y/N. Trekking into the tower, he could finally relax his eyes from the intense sun. The two stood shoulder to shoulder, waiting for the elevator to arrive.
“I thought you were already back,” Sam admitted, watching the light above the elevator doors.
Y/N furrowed her eyebrows. Her mission was supposed to be longer. If anything, he should have anticipated her return later. Facing the man beside her, she asked, “Why?”
Ding.
Scrambling into the elevator, Sam leaned against the wall across from Y/N. She reflected his behavior, leaning against the wall behind her.
Once the elevator started moving, Sam confessed, “Bucky skipped his run today. I thought I saw you with him before I left. Guess I was wrong.”
Y/N bit her bottom lip, reopening a recently closed wound. She released her lip long enough to confirm what Sam already knew. “You were wrong.” Ignoring the coppery taste flooding her tongue, she drew her bottom lip between her teeth again.
She hadn’t seen her teammates in three weeks. She hadn’t seen Bucky longer. She assumed they were doing great, but Bucky didn't share her thoughts. He denied it, yet he went out of his way to avoid her since their last mission together, since they slept together. How one could be sweet in one moment and cold in another, Y/N would never understand.
Y/N and Bucky started off rocky. He hated her from the moment they met. Bucky was struggling in the field, so Steve asked her to keep an eye on him. Bucky rejected her the second Steve introduced them. He saw through Steve’s plan and stomped his feet like a child. Rather than confirm Bucky’s insinuation, Steve vouched that she deserved to be on the team for her talents, not to babysit Bucky. He even suggested that Y/N and Bucky spar to prove it. Bucky loathed her then. She laid him out several times that day. It was the reason Steve sought her out in the first place. Bucky was a far more experienced fighter than Y/N. He should have won every fight. He lost them all.
Muffled voices were heard from the other side of the doors. Voices Y/N craved to hear since she departed for her mission. When the doors spread, Sam was the first to enter the room. “Hey guys,” he called out, extending his hands toward Y/N, “look who I found.”
Y/N tentatively stepped off the elevator, joining her friends in the living room. She couldn’t remember the last time she had seen so many eyes on her. “I didn’t know there was a party,” she joked, waving.
Tony was the first to speak up, a glass of honey liquid in hand, “Glad, you're back. We were just getting to know Bucky’s girlfriend over here.” He lifted his glass.
Y/N’s eyes followed the direction of Tony’s glass. Her hand tautened around the strap of her duffle bag for support. Y/N hadn’t noticed the extra body in the room at first. The team always had someone over for business or pleasure; it didn’t matter. This time it did because staring back at her was Bucky’s guest, his girlfriend, undoubtedly here for pleasure.
The stunning woman beside Bucky introduced herself. “Hi, I’m Evangelina, but everyone calls me Lina.” Y/N could see the muscles in her uncovered arms tense. Even though she couldn’t see the hand attached to the arm from the other side of the bar, she knew Evangelina was holding Bucky’s flesh hand. “But Bucky calls me Angel,” she added, batting her eyelashes at Bucky.
The woman wasn't solely attractive; she also had a heavenly name. Y/N mentally gagged at the thought of hearing Bucky call his girlfriend Angel.
The coward refused to meet Y/N’s eyes. He took a lengthy drink from a glass matching Tony’s. Stark usually drank top-shelf liquor. Y/N might have been concerned under different circumstances, but she knew the liquor did not affect him, unlike herself.
“Y/N,” she weakly introduced herself, gnawing on her bottom lip again.
“We were just having drinks. Care to join us? There is plenty of alcohol. I can make you something,” Evangelina offered politely.
Y/N’s teeth clamped tight on her bottom lip. She spent three weeks wishing she could return to the tower, only to be treated like a guest, an outsider in her own home.
It was then that Bucky decided to face her, yet his eyes looked right through her. Y/N’s chest tightened. She didn’t know it was feasible to feel more alone in her home, surrounded by friends and a man she had been intimate with, than by herself in a foreign country. She wondered if he could see the hurt written on her face.
“I-I don’t-”
Bucky’s whiskey-strained voice interrupted, “No. No drinks.”
A gasp pulled Y/N's attention away from the couple. Cold, pale hands rested on her cheeks, rotating her head from side to side. “Y/N, you’re bleeding,” Natasha chastised.
Wrestling out of Natasha’s hold, Y/N utilized the back of her hand to wipe the blood from her lip. Staring at the crimson fluid coating her skin, Y/N jerked her head. “I can’t.” Blindly smashing the elevator button behind her, she whispered, “I have to…” her voice trailed off as she jabbed her thumb over her shoulder. Disregarding everyone’s silent questions, she bolted into the elevator, only letting her shoulders sag when the doors closed. The strap of her duffle bag slid from her shoulder landing with a thud. Gliding her back down the wall, Y/N cradled her knees and wept.
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Every night before bed, Y/N prayed the sun would never rise because when day broke, Bucky vanished. Her dreams filled with memories of their last mission together. Reality was the price of admission for eight hours in heaven.
Y/N clenched her jaw at every public display of affection between the new couple. In the time she had known him, Bucky had never been touchy-feely in public. Now, he couldn’t appear to stop. Bucky only ever reached for Y/N after a nightmare or horrific mission. He reached for her at his lowest and she responded with open arms. He might have another woman occupying his bed, but he continued to fuck with her head.
The voice in her head wasn’t her own anymore. Every thought she had echoed back in his familiar deep timber. She couldn’t shake him. A twisted part of her brain wondered if he couldn’t shake her either.
Sam’s comment when she returned from her assignment should have been her first clue. He had mistaken Evangelina for her. Sam had been the first to mention the resemblance between the two, but it wasn’t the last time Y/N received those kinds of comments.
In the time that Y/N had gotten to know Evangelina, which wasn’t much, she concluded that she didn’t hate her. The two had more in common than she wanted to admit. Evangelina made it a point to befriend all of the Avengers; Y/N included. Y/N hated that she enjoyed her company. It was a tough pill to swallow at first, but she couldn’t hate the woman for her taste in men. Who didn’t find Bucky Barnes attractive?
Bucky had been more challenging to read. He didn’t prevent the women from becoming friends, but he didn’t encourage it either. He continued to keep his distance from Y/N, only interacting with her in group settings.
The Avengers were unaware of Bucky and Y/N’s history. Their relationship was exclusively behind closed doors. Y/N wondered if Evangelina would be her confidante if she knew Y/N had warmed his bed first. Maybe Bucky told her and that was why she pushed to be Y/N’s friend. Maybe that was the reason she asked to raid Y/N’s closet for her date with Bucky. Even though Y/N desperately wanted to slam the door in her face, Evangelina was innocent in the situation. So, she agreed.
“You have so many pretty dresses,” Evangelina said in awe. Her hand ran across each piece of fabric dangling in the wardrobe.
Y/N’s fingers plucked at a loose thread on her comforter. Although they were now friends, helping Bucky’s girlfriend pick out an outfit for their date was still awkward. At least it was on Y/N’s end. Evangelina was none the wiser.
“Perks of being an Avenger.”
“What’s it like being an Avenger? Bucky never talks about his work life. He’s always tense when he returns from a mission.”
Y/N raised an eyebrow even though the other woman couldn’t see her. Bucky was slow to open up, especially about his past as the Winter Soldier. Y/N wasn’t surprised he dodged the topic. Ever since Natasha leaked classified files, Bucky’s past became public knowledge. Bucky and Evangelina’s relationship progressed beyond what Y/N previously had with Bucky, at least on the surface. She didn’t know much about their life behind closed doors. Bucky never took Y/N on a date or made her his girlfriend, but he let her hold him in her arms at night and let her in after a difficult mission. Yet his girlfriend practically confessed she knew nothing about his troubles. That was what shocked Y/N.
“It’s…” she paused, attempting to find the right words to convey the difficulties of the job without disturbing her. “It’s like war. You save and lose people. It’s rewarding and sucks at the same time.”
Evangelina pivoted with a black cocktail dress in hand. “That sounds awful.”
Y/N shrugged. “People do it every day. Steve, Sam, and Bucky were all military men before this.” She waved her hands around the room.
Evangelina caught the shift in Y/N’s tone. It wasn’t something she wanted to talk about, a reaction Evangelina grew used to from her exchanges with Bucky. Altering the subject, Evangelina pressed the cocktail dress flush to her body. “What about this one?”
Y/N sucked in a deep breath. She wore the dress on her last mission with Bucky. Though he didn’t say it in public, his reaction when they returned to the safe house that night was enough to know Bucky admired the dress. With Evangelina’s similar figure, Y/N knew Bucky would equally appreciate it on her, especially since he wouldn’t get to rip it off of Y/N again.
She would have told Evangelina about the dress, but it was none of her business. The past was in the past. One Evangelina wasn’t a part of. If Bucky hadn’t told her about their past neither would she. Was it bad to send Evangelina on a date in the dress Bucky had fucked her in? Probably. Did she hope he would think about her the entire date? Absolutely.
Clearing her throat, Y/N plastered a phony smile on her face. “Good choice.” After the date, the dress would be tarnished, like rerecording over an old tape.
Y/N never considered herself a masochist, but she couldn’t escape the role of a domestic sinner. She couldn’t sabotage Evangelina’s relationship no matter how Bucky made her feel; however, she could ruin her own relationship. There was a time in her life when she thought Bucky was the one. Part of her still believed it. It was the part she had to sacrifice.
She told herself Bucky’s soft caresses and lingering stares meant nothing, that every promise spoken was a lie to satisfy the moment. Everything Y/N ever loved had been hard to part with, so she convinced herself Bucky never truly loved her. He couldn’t with how readily he replaced her. Could he? It didn’t matter because he chose Evangelina.
“Hey, Y/N,” Steve welcomed jovially.
Y/N furrowed her eyebrows as Steve’s voice carried down the hall. Who was he talking to? Rounding the corner just in time, she hadn’t missed the way Steve’s eyes enlarged at the sight of her.
“I didn’t realize,” Steve began, his eyes flashing between both women. “I thought you were Y/N.”
Evangelina chuckled, gliding her hands across her abdomen to smooth down the front of the dress. “I’ll take that as a compliment. Y/N was considerate enough to lend me her dress.” She turned to Y/N, who was still standing in the archway of the lobby. “Thanks again.”
Before Y/N could reply, a hand slinked around her waist, drawing her into a solid body. Startled, Y/N tensed.
“Hey, Ange-” Bucky’s tongue twisted as his eyes landed on Y/N. He was relieved he peeked at her face before he complimented her appearance. He dragged his arm back to his side in a flash. “Sorry, I wasn’t expecting you to be here.”
Y/N chewed her lip, taking a step back. Bucky was dressed from head to toe in black, matching Evangelina. Y/N wondered if they planned to dress for her funeral before or after they killed off any romantic feelings she had for Bucky.
“I did the same thing,” Steve laughed. Bucky glowered at him, forcing his hands into his pockets. Steve held his hands up, “I didn’t touch anyone though, that was all you.”
Bucky grumbled, crossing the lobby to plant a kiss on Evangelina’s forehead. His right hand rested on the small of her back. “You look gorgeous,” he whispered against her hairline.
Evangelina grinned, “You don’t look bad yourself.”
Y/N couldn’t argue with that.
The faint smile on Bucky’s lips disappeared as the hand on Evangelina’s back ran up her spine. The tips of his fingers halted over a loose thread beside the zipper. Anyone would have glossed over it, but not Bucky. Not when he was the one to patch the dress up and certainly not when he was the one to tear it in the first place. When his gaze collided with Y/N’s, she knew he recognized the dress. His eyes blatantly proceeded to check her out.
Y/N flushed as he studied her; however, the moment his eyes drifted to his best friend, Y/N’s blood ran cold. “Are you two,” he pointed between Y/N and Steve. His voice was unable to fully ask the question he wanted to.
Steve slung his arm over Y/N’s shoulder. It was meant to be a joke, but Y/N saw the blaze in Bucky’s eyes. She didn’t know if it was directed at Steve or herself.
“I wish,” Steve beamed down at her. “I have a conference with Fury in an hour. I was hoping to get there early.”
Y/N sent Steve a soft smile. Steve and Bucky were best friends. If anyone knew what transpired between the two on their last mission, it would be Steve. His reaction proved otherwise. She was confident Steve didn’t know about her past with Bucky or he wouldn’t have unknowingly taunted Bucky.
Evangelina ran her hand along Bucky’s back affectionately. “What about you, Y/N? That dress looks amazing on you. I’m almost jealous I didn’t borrow that one.”
Untangling herself from Steve’s hold, Y/N focused on responding to her new friend rather than Bucky. Puffing out her chest, Y/N said, “Thanks, Lina. I have a date.”
Evangelina grinned, “You should join us.” She directed her attention to Bucky, slapping the center of his chest. “They should join us.”
Y/N’s eyes bulged at the prospect of a double date with Bucky. Absolutely not.
“Could be fun,” Bucky added, but his voice lacked emotion.
She officially lost her mind. There was no way Bucky was actually on board with this idea. The man spent most of his time avoiding her. The second she attempts to move on, he tries to interfere. No. No. No.
Y/N shook her head, lying through her teeth, “It’s still new. I’m not ready to introduce him to anyone I know yet.”
Bucky’s eyes lingered on Y/N’s figure for a moment. “That’s not exactly a new relationship kind of dress.” His eyes narrowed in a challenge.
Y/N pursed her lips. “It is for the kind of relationship he and I have.”
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Bucky and Y/N’s first assignment together was a disaster. Bucky wasn't prepared to return to the field, but he insisted he was fine. The mission was successful, but only after Bucky hesitated and Y/N was stabbed. The knife was meant for Bucky, and he took her sacrifice for his mistake poorly. They argued even while Y/N was getting stitched up. At the time, they couldn’t stand one another, but looking back on it, it was the tipping point from enemies to friends.
Tony pressured the two to get along for everyone's sake. He suggested going out for a drink and hashing it out. It was the typical outing for a man of Tony’s status with enemies. Bucky had been the first to yield, offering to buy Y/N a drink. As long as it meant they could move forward, he didn’t care. Y/N declined. Bucky scowled in frustration.
“I probably shouldn't tell you this, but ever since the whole enhanced superpower thing, alcohol is like poison to me.”
Bucky’s face softened. Alcohol had been an issue for him and Steve as well. He detested that he couldn’t get drunk, especially with the unwanted memories that plagued his head frequently. It paled in comparison to her side effects. At least he could still consume the liquid and pretend.
“How about dinner then?” Bucky proposed.
Y/N nodded. “Dinner would be great.”
After that, the pair functioned well together. At least until Y/N witnessed Bucky’s nightmares or when he pulled away from everyone after a challenging mission. That was when Y/N began comforting Bucky. While it wasn’t a problem before, it was now.
“Stop staring at me,” Bucky grumbled.
Y/N couldn’t tear her eyes away from the super-soldier. It was their first mission together since he began dating Evangelina. The two of them were trapped in a safe house on the other side of the world. It wasn’t the first time they had stayed in this particular safe house. It was the exact safe house they inhabited on their last mission.
“You’re hurt,” Y/N observed. Bucky naturally had a sway in his gate. Today, it was heavier, as if he had been lugging extra weight around for hours.
“I’m fine,” Bucky rasped, keeping his back to Y/N. He kept his focus on igniting the fire in the fireplace before them.
Y/N frowned. “I don't mean physically.” Bucky remained silent. “Maybe you should call Evangelina,” she proposed. It was the practical thing to suggest, but it seemed to have the opposite effect on Bucky than she intended.
Bucky whirled around; the fire blazed behind him. “I said I’m fine,” he barked. His dark eyes pinned her to her spot on the worn couch.
Y/N chewed her bottom lip. If he was going to get angry with her for caring, then she’d get furious right back. “If you’re so fine, then why have you been avoiding me?”
Bucky grumbled something under his breath, running his hand through his hair. “I already told you, I haven’t-”
“Bullshit.” Y/N rose from her seat. “You fucked me after that HYDRA mission and discarded me like garbage,” she fumed. “I gave you space. I’m gone not even an entire month and suddenly you have a girlfriend. Fuck you, James.”
Bucky stormed the room until he was standing in front of her. His nostrils flared as he ran his tongue along his teeth before baring his teeth. Y/N tipped her head back, daring him to put his hands on her. Bucky studied her face momentarily, their faces hairsbreadths from one another as he hissed, “Fuck. You. Y/N.” From this distance, she could see the muscles in his face twist. She knew he was pissed. Bucky pulled away. “You think you know everything. You have no idea what it's like to have someone fuck with your head.”
Y/N shoved his chest hard. Bucky didn’t even flinch. “You! You’ve been driving me insane with your games!” Her hands moved to shove him again, but he caught both of her wrists.
“Don’t,” he growled.
Y/N ripped herself free from his hold. His grip wasn't tight enough to hurt, still she rubbed her wrist anyway, trying to rid her body of his touch.
“Go back to your boyfriend, Y/N,” he commanded.
Y/N squinted at the man in front of her. This version of him was a stranger. “I heard you,” she voiced softly. “That night,” she pointed to the bedroom down the hall, “when you thought I was asleep, you said you love me.”
If she wasn’t an Avenger, she wouldn’t have detected the way his eyes widened for a fraction of a second. Bucky no longer had to wear a mask from HYDRA, but it seemed everyone except Bucky got the memo. His voice matched the stone-cold expression he wore. “I lied.”
It was the lack of sympathy in his voice that slammed the casket closed. With two little words, Bucky Barnes had buried her in the same place he made love to her.
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Bucky returned to the tower after dropping Evangelina off when he stumbled across Natasha with a glass of wine in hand. She was snuggled under a blanket on the couch, watching a true crime show. Since he was unsure where everyone else had gone, he settled on the spot beside Natasha.
“Long night?” Natasha questioned, side-eying the brunette.
Bucky moaned, running his hands down his face. “Long week.”
Natasha swirled her glass of wine. “There is still a bit of wine left. It won't get you drunk but it might help you relax.”
Bucky pursed his lips. “I don’t think that will help.”
Natasha shrugged. “There’s some liquor Y/N’s boyfriend left on the counter over there.” She pointed to the nearly empty bottle across the room. “I’m sure he wouldn’t mind sharing.”
Bucky raised an eyebrow, “He’s here?”
The red head nodded. “They just got back from dinner. She said they were going upstairs to watch a movie, but after the amount of alcohol they had, I’m sure they are doing more than that.” She wiggled her eyebrows.
Bucky stiffened. “They were both drinking?”
“Yeah. The boyfriend came down a couple times to make mixed drinks. He offered me one the last time he was down here, but,” she raised her wine glass.
Before Natasha could continue, Bucky was out of the room, taking the stairs three at a time. He didn’t expect Natasha to understand. People didn’t go around broadcasting their weaknesses. Y/N told him hers, despite them not being friends. It wasn’t his position to share the information. He regretted it now.
Bucky pounded his fist on the wooden door of Y/N's bedroom with a force that made the hinges creak. “Y/N, you in there? Open up,” he pleaded, his voice laced with concern. When he tried the handle and found it locked, his heart sank. “Y/N,” his voice grew more desperate. He could hear shuffling on the other side of the door and leaned in, straining to hear anything that might give him an indication of what was transpiring inside. Despite his repeated requests, the door remained sealed shut, and Bucky's impatience and frustration mounted with each passing second. His voice grew louder, his fists clenched tightly, as he roared for Y/N to open the goddamn door. But there was no response. Finally, Bucky stepped back, his eyes flashing with rage, preparing to kick the door down.
The door opened the second Bucky lifted his boot. A man Bucky had never seen before pushed past him, flying down the hallway. “I didn’t do anything,” he cried as he stepped onto the elevator.
Whiplash hit Bucky hard. His head twisted between the man on the elevator and Y/N’s open bedroom door. The second he caught sight of the man's face, he filed it away preparing to deal with him later. Bucky ran into Y/N’s room. His heartbeat drummed loudly, drowning out the sound of the TV playing in the background. He called her name, but there was no response. He scanned the entire room, finding it empty. His boot kicked a glass, the brown liquid staining the carpet. With a lump in his throat, Bucky knocked on the bathroom door and waited for half a heartbeat before he jerked the door wide open.
There she was, sprawled out on the bathroom floor. Bucky crouched down beside her. His flesh hand shook her shoulder as he called her name. No response. He rolled her onto her back, his fingers searching for the pulse on her neck. Bucky almost missed the faint thrum of her pulse beneath his fingers. His own body was shaking. He called her name once again but was met with silence.
“F.R.I.D.A.Y. send the medical unit to Y/N’s room,” his voice quivered as he addressed Tony’s artificial intelligence.
He stepped over her to turn the shower on. Leaving the sliding glass door open, he enveloped her torso in his arms, dragging her bodying into the shower. Crumbling to the floor behind her, he cradled her body under the spray of the cold water.
“Come on, Y/N. Wake up,” he pleaded. He tapped her face repeatedly. “Come on. Not like this,” his voice began shattering. Her head lulled into his chest. Bucky’s fist clenched, mindful not to crush her, as a loud sob tore through his chest. Bucky held her tighter than the clothes adhering to their skin beneath the water. He swayed her slowly as tears gushed down his face. “Come on Y/N. Come back to me,” he croaked. “Tell me to go fuck myself. Anything,” he begged, praying for a reaction. It was futile. Bucky smashed his lips onto the top of her head. “I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry.”
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Beep. Beep. Beep.
Y/N’s eyes fluttered open with a groan. Her body was sore on the brink of death. One look around the room confirmed she nearly died. She visited the medical wing frequently between missions. The injuries she had endured on the missions were nothing in comparison to what she was experiencing now.
A pressure landing on the back of her hand had her head snapping to her side. Bucky sat with his forehead pressed to the back of her hand, a prayer escaping his lips. Y/N furrowed her eyebrows searching for her last memory of Bucky.
The brunette lifted his head, running his fingers through her hair. “You scared me,” his voice was shaky, his eyes never left her face.
“Where’s-”
Bucky snarled, “Your boyfriend? Don’t worry about him, he’s an asshole.”
Y/N flinched. “He didn’t know.”
“That’s not why he’s an asshole. He ran and left you on the bathroom floor to die.” Bucky watched as Y/N processed the new information. The lack of surprise concerned him. He didn’t want to ask, but he needed to know. “Did you know there was alcohol in your drink?”
Y/N scoffed, crossing her arms. “Of course, I didn’t, Bucky. You’re an asshole for leaving me too. I’m pissed at you. I’m not suicidal. You did your good deed. I’m alive. Now you can go back to your Angel.” She spat the last words, parodying his words from the safe house.
Bucky sat back in his seat, rubbing his chin. He hadn’t meant to hurt her. He just wanted to push her away. He pushed too far. He almost lost her. He couldn’t avoid her any longer, she deserved an explanation.
“It wasn’t a lie,” he mumbled. Part of him didn’t want her to hear it, still wanting to starve off the conversation.
“What?”
He took a deep breath, leaning forward. His elbows rested on his knees with his hands clasped in front of him. His face turned serious. “I love you.” Y/N’s heart skipped a beat while her face turned sour. “But I can't be with you.”
A tear rolled down her cheek. “Why are you doing this? Why now?”
Bucky winced at the hurt in her voice. It hurt him too. That’s why he avoided the conversation for so long. “I’m too vulnerable around you. I fall back into my head way too easily. I don’t want to be reminded of my past. Then I met Ang- Evangelina and suddenly, I’m not thinking about all of the people I’ve killed, or the way HYDRA tortured me. With her, I’m living in the present.”
Y/N sat up harshly, the tears had stopped flowing a few sentences ago. “Because you won’t open up to her! You’re running from your problems and the second she’s gone, you’re gonna be stuck in your head again. Alone this time. Sorry, I was only a distraction long enough for you to fuck me. You don’t love her. You love the idea of normalcy with me!” She insisted, jabbing her finger into her chest.
Bucky closed his eyes, his head in his hands.
“For fucks sake, Bucky. She looks like me. This isn’t reality. This isn’t you. You're playing a role in some cheesy romcom. You’re letting her emulate me to fill a spot. She’s my understudy and you know it.”
Bucky ran his hands through his hair before looking up at her. Teary-eyed, he confessed, “I don’t know what to do. I don’t know who I am anymore. I just want to be normal again.” His head rested on his bent arms, leaning against the bed. His back jolted with each sob.
Y/N rubbed between his shoulder blades. “We’re not normal Bucky. None of the Avengers are, but we’re real.” She ran her hand through his hair comfortingly. “You and me, we’re real.”
He wiped his tears, shaking his head, “She’s out looking for a dog for us to adopt.”
Y/N scrunched her nose. They were taking the next step. Before she knows it, they'll be moving in together, getting married, and have a kid on the way.
“I don’t even want a dog. I couldn’t take care of it with my lifestyle. It just seemed like the normal thing to do. Most families have dogs.”
Y/N hated the idea of Bucky considering a family with Evangelina. She knew him better though. “I always took you for a cat person.”
Bucky smiled at her. “Yeah? What about you? Are you a cat person?”
She nodded. “Less work to train. More realistic in our lifestyle.”
Bucky hummed. The idea of them sharing anything both scared and delighted Bucky. “What kind of cat would we get?”
The corner of Y/N’s lips turned upward. Playing along, she didn’t need to think about her answer, she had already thought about it before. “It doesn’t matter, but he’d have to be white so I could see him against all of your black clothes. Although, cat hairs might be a pain before missions.”
Bucky nodded, his elbow on the bed, propped his head up in his hand. His other hand held Y/N’s as his thumb rubbed circles on the back of her hand as she talked. With a raised eyebrow, Bucky asked, “He?”
Y/N nodded, offended he would suggest otherwise. “You know, so I can come home to my boys. Plus, you need more friends. You two can have a guy's night while I’m away.”
“What if I want to come home to my girls?” Bucky argued.
Y/N rolled her eyes. “We’ll let fate decide. Whichever we find first.”
He nodded, agreeing to the compromise. “Alpine.”
“Huh?”
Bucky sighed dreamily, “The name.” It was too easy talking with Y/N about adopting a cat as if they were discussing children. It hadn’t crossed Y/N’s mind yet, but Bucky was aware that he wasn’t thinking of the past. He was thinking of the future. A future with Y/N.
Y/N snorted. It wasn’t the name she would have picked but Bucky liked it. She got to pick the color; it was only fair Bucky got to pick the name. “Alpine it is.”
Three weeks later, Bucky and Y/N welcomed Alpine to their shared room at Avengers Tower. The team melted when they met the feline. Even Evangelina. Despite the breakup, Y/N and Evangelina remained friends. The women were filled with too much grace and poise, not to. A trait Bucky had admired in both of them. It should have unsettled Bucky for them to remain friends, but Bucky knew where he belonged now. He might not know who he was or who he is now, but he was certain his future was Y/N.
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starsofang · 2 months ago
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CALL OF THE SEA / PART THIRTEEN
pirate poly!141 x f!reader tw: NSFW, MDNI, heavy topics such as death, blood, and past trauma mentioned, lots of tension in this chapter masterlist
When a group of unhinged pirates invade your small village, you're whisked away from your peaceful home and thrown on to a voyage out at sea. Forced to obtain a new role as their medic, you have no choice but to accept your fate as you join their forces and aid them in their treacherous travels.
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“Shadow’s Peak,” Price began, pointing to the circled island that seemed to be parted from all of its neighboring ones, “is where Graves resides when he’s not at sea. Nobody’s been to the island that’s been able to return home. It’s cursed to many, deemed uninhabitable.”
“If you have never visited it, then how do you know?” you risked asking.
Price looked up from the map, a frown on his face. “Ghost,” he answered, and you let out a sound of recognition. “You must understand that Graves is known amongst the people as a danger, same as us. People see monsters when they see pirates, but Graves lives up to the name.”
You trailed your finger along the map, studying the remote island and the ink around it. It looked as if Price had been the one to sketch it out himself, rather than a merchant selling it with the island displayed.
Monsters, you thought. For a long time, you were in the same boat as others. Pirates were never in good fortune. They were a rarity, but when they appeared on land in the public, you’d heard the stories. They almost never ended well.
“I do not think you are monsters,” you murmured quietly, more so to yourself than anything. Still, Price cocked his head, eyes locked in on you as you kept your own focused on the map.
“Even now, after everythin’ we’ve done?” he asked, watching the way your fingers flattened against the map. “You do not view us in the light everybody sees is in?”
You finally looked up at him, and you felt your breath catch in your throat uncomfortably. Your gaze flickered over his face, down to the frown lines permanently etched into his skin, and the way his eyebrows tugged together in heavy doubt.
“Perhaps at first, I did,” you admitted honestly. His expression didn’t falter, and he seemed to be expecting that answer. “I do not now. I have seen the true monster and where it hides. It is not you.”
Price blinked, softening. A look of relief passed over him. “We have done horrible things,” he muttered. “We are prepared to do more until we can no longer. I truly hope you’re aware of what you are agreein’ to, dove.”
You pressed your lips together. You contemplated, though you knew your answer and had already made it previously. You knew the moment Graves invaded your mind and filled it with parasites that he was the true monster in your world and not Price or his men.
It didn’t make their doings any better, not did it excuse it. But you knew they were trying, and that was all you could do in return.
Perhaps you were an idiot for thinking so.
“You will protect me?” you asked Price, catching him off guard.
“With my life,” he confirmed instantly. “I will not allow you to be harmed. I swear on it.”
You watched his finger cross an X over his chest. You didn’t know why it made your heart pick up its pace.
He was swearing to you, on behalf of him and his men, to keep your life as untouched as possible. It was an oath that was to be taken serious. Price was devoting his life to yours the same he did with Soap, Gaz, and Ghost as their Captain.
“What is your plan, Captain?” You gestured to the map, right at Shadow’s Peak that sat on the paper in its lonesome wake. “With Graves. What exactly is the outcome you wish for?”
Price looked at Shadow’s Peak briefly, his eyes hardening. The mood in the room shifted, and the heaviness weighed on your chest when you took a sharp breath in.
There was a protectiveness that came over him, one you were beginning to recognize when the thought of his men or you getting harmed seemed to take control of his thoughts. The idea that he cared enough for you that he placed you in the same category of priority as his men had your mind running astray.
“He has to die,” he grunted out firmly. There wasn’t an ounce of hesitation or doubt in his tone. “One way or another, I’m goin’ to kill that fuckin’ beast. For Ghost, and for you.”
Your breath hitched at the pure determination he exuded, the way his fists clenched on the table and jaw tightened until it looked painfully taut. Wide-eyed, you said nothing outwardly, though your mind was a gamble.
He was willing to kill for you. He was willing to die for you.
You shouldn’t be thinking that way. It was crude even being flattered by the prospect of it, yet your heart and mind were both in unity with how you were growing increasingly flustered.
When Price’s gaze met yours, and the hardness immediately softened and was replaced with a distant tenderness filled with words unsaid, you weren’t sure how much longer your thoughts could be suppressed.
“I’m goin’ to fuckin’ kill him, dove,” he said softly, a stark contrast to the venomous words being spoken.
Your fingernails dug into your palms, fists growing clammy and restless by your sides.
“I understand,” you whispered with a curt nod.
Price’s eyes flickered over your features, the silence growing between you two. His hand furled and unfurled on the table, fighting with itself to not reach out and touch you.
“You look tired,” he murmured, tearing his gaze away. “You should go get some rest.”
You opened your mouth to protest, but quickly snapped it shut when you realized. Price seemed to be in just as much a whirl of confused emotions as you. He was giving you an out, while also expressing his desire to be alone.
You could respect that. After all, you truly were tired, given your earlier sleep was interrupted by the cruel, cold hands of death knocking at your doorstep.
“Alright,” you agreed softly. “You should rest as well, Captain. You wear yourself out too much.”
Price looked up at you in surprise, expression furrowing. He bristled, slumping with a quiet chuckle under his breath. Shaking his head to himself, he spoke. “I have never been the one told to rest. It is usually me doin’ the biddin’.”
You smiled, watching his every movement as he sat in his chair, melting into it. “Perhaps you need to hear it more often,” you reckoned in amusement.
Price smiled back, and you did your damn hardest to ignore the low ache it gave you in your chest. “Perhaps I do,” he hummed. “Go on and rest, dove. We will talk in the mornin’.”
You nodded briefly, shooting him a farewell before retreating out of his quarters and into the night. The Captain watched as you left, eyes lingering on the door even after your absence, before forcing himself to bed, only because you told him to.
Strange girl, he thought to himself, yet his heart thought otherwise.
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Upon entering your shared quarters, you nearly flung up in surprise to see Soap meddling about. Your clothes were spread out on his bed, and the miniature telescope you bought for Gaz was in his hands, held up to his eye as he peered through it curiously.
“What are you doing?” you asked suspiciously, eyes narrowed in on the telescope.
Soap startled, dropping the telescope from his eye and clenching it between his hand. “Dove!” he exclaimed. “Give a man a warnin’, will ye?”
You mumbled an apology, stepping towards the bed and eyeing your clothes. “Why are you going through my things?”
“Ach, I’m a nosy lad. Ye can’t buy all these things and not expect me to go through ‘em,” he tsked, and at your side-eyed glare, he stammered. “Don’t look at me like that. Makes me nervous.”
You let out a heavy sigh, seating yourself on the edge of the bed. You carefully grasped one of the flowy dresses you bought for yourself, thumbs running over the fabric. Its quality was rich, much richer than you were used to, and it felt soft under your touch.
“It’s pretty,” Soap hummed. “Didn’t expect ye to be into dresses like that.”
“I never had the opportunity or funds,” you explained, staring down at the dress. “Gaz was very gracious with gifting me the money.”
Soap cocked his head, looking between the dress and you. “That lad never buys me anythin’,” he huffed, taking a seat next to you. The telescope sat carefully in his lap. “And here he is, buyin’ ye a whole store.”
Your eyebrows furrowed as you looked up at him. You briefly recalled Ghost seeming just as confused by the generosity. “Is this not common?”
Soap snorted, shaking his head. “Nah. Gaz is a stickler with his money. Doesn’t like to spend it unless necessary.” He sniffed, peering down at the fabric in your lap. “He clearly didn’t care to give ye some, though.”
You were surprised, to say the least. Gaz didn’t seem the type to be cautious with his spendings, and to learn that he gave you money despite that left you just as confused.
He had no reason to do so. He was simply being generous. But now, knowing it wasn’t just something he did casually, it left you wondering.
“Strange,” you muttered to yourself. Soap gave a hum of agreement.
“What’s this, by the way?” he asked, lifting the telescope. He inspected it, turning it in his hand. “Ye don’t seem the type to use it.”
You watched as he fiddled with it, growing a sense of protectiveness. You were scared he’d break it, or worse, deem it unusable.
“Gaz’s one request was to bring him back a gift,” you explained. “I know he likes to sit and watch the sky at night when it is quiet and peaceful. I got him a telescope to make the experience better.”
Soap’s eyebrows raised and he placed the scope to his eye, frowning. “I don’t think it works, dove.”
You sighed, shaking your head. “It does not work well indoors, Soap. It is meant for distance.”
“Ah.”
He pulled it away, smoothing a thumb over the gold detailing. As if sensing your faint distress, he turned to you, holding it out. “Ye gonna give it to him?”
You took it graciously, cupping it in your palm. “Do you know where he is?”
Soap nodded, giving you a toothy smile. “North end of the deck. That’s his favorite spot.”
You noted that in your mind. Gaz was always a lonely wanderer, so it came as no surprise that he was on the opposite end of the ship, soaking in the quiet. That was something the two of you had in common.
You couldn’t help but wonder. “Do you think he will like it?” you asked, uncertain.
You felt silly, stressing yourself over whether Gaz will appreciate your gift. A gift was all it was, one he specifically told you to surprise him with, yet you found your stomach in knots.
Soap lifted a hand, giving your shoulder a gentle squeeze. When you looked at him, he was smiling softly, a hint of amusement glistening in his eyes.
“He’ll love it,” he assured kindly, and he gave you no reason to think otherwise. “Though, I also like gifts.”
You felt your lips curl up involuntarily and you laughed lightly, something Soap reflected. “There is no need to be envious, Soap,” you jested, standing from the bed. “It is but a one time thing.”
Soap beamed, eyes following you as you stood. “Just a mental note for the future,” he replied back cooly.
You shook your head, making your way towards the door with the telescope in your grasp. You felt Soap watching you, and when you turned, you stilled when he seemed to be in thought so quickly.
“I really do think the dresses are pretty, by the way,” he murmured, voice much quieter. “They… suit ye.”
Your gaze flickered over to the dresses muddled behind him before returning to him. “Thank you,” you replied warmly. “I’ll be sure to try them on tomorrow.”
Soap smiled softly, giving you a nod. You returned the favor, turning back around to leave the quarters, beginning your mission to find the mysterious pirate who loved to vanish in the night.
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Your nerves grew the closer you got to the North end of the ship, and you weren’t sure why. It wasn’t as if Gaz were a danger nor a stranger, yet your heart pounded aggressively against your rib cage with every step you took.
The telescope felt infinitely heavier in your hand, and you repeatedly swiped your thumbs over the gold detailing to rid it of any grimy fingerprints and ensure it looked good as new.
Gaz was exactly where Soap said he’d be, and you instantly paused your walking, staring at his back. His gaze was towards the sky, shoulders relaxed and at ease. One knee pulled towards him while the other dangled loosely over the edge.
“Gaz?” you called out quietly as not to startle him.
Gaz’s head tilted back to look at you, and a smile graced his lips. “Hey, dove. Y’alright?”
You stepped closer until you were standing by his side, peering down at the dark abyss the ocean offered below. It was black, your eyes struggling to adjust to the waves that lapped at the ship.
“Mm. Soap told me I could find you here.”
Gaz studied you, curious. “What’s the occasion?” he asked, before his gaze dropped down to your furled hand that held the telescope.
You shifted awkwardly on your feet, before Gaz gestured for you to sit beside him. You complied, letting your legs dangle with his one over the edge, knee brushing his.
“What’s that?” he questioned in faint amusement, nodding towards the telescope.
Gosh, you didn’t know why you felt so unnerved. Perhaps it was due to this being the first time you were gifting somebody something special. You feared he wouldn’t like it, and your heart kept lurching out of your chest as if it were running a marathon.
“Your gift,” you answered, slowly reaching the telescope out. He took it carefully, immediately observing the intricate detailing. “I know you like coming out at night, so I thought it may help you see the sky better.”
Your hands furled into fists on your thighs. You kept your gaze on the sea, reveling in the breeze that came with.
Why wasn’t he saying anything?
It had knots growing in your throat that you desperately tried to swallow down.
You felt foolish and silly. The entire duration of your stay on the ship, you held your ground and stalked your claim. You remained stubborn and fearless for as much as your fragile heart could possibly take, yet all it took for your resolve to crumble was a sickening anxiety over whether or not Gaz liked his gift.
It felt like you were a little girl again, fighting for approval from the other kids in the village. Wondering why you had to be different, why they couldn’t be friendly towards you.
You felt so stupid—
“Hm. You win,” he hummed, smiling faintly to himself.
You whipped your head up to look at him. The scope was pressed to his eye as he gazed up at the stars, admiring them through a new lens.
“What?” you breathed, confused.
“Our negotiation,” he recalled, pulling the scope away to glance at you. “You win.”
You stared at him dumbly, realization creeping in. If he didn’t like your gift, you were to owe him the money back for the clothes. If he did, then you were home free.
“You like it?” you asked, unsure. You thought he was messing with you. He was secretly more of a tease than Soap, and you knew it just from the day of the negotiation alone.
“Oh, yeah. This thing is a real dime,” he assured, inspecting the telescope in his hand. “You know me better than I thought. Lucky you.”
You watched as he looked into the scope again, his other eye squinting to focus. You shifted your gaze to join him in looking up while your stomach twisted and rolled in shot nerves.
“It’s a shame I lost, but I can’t deny that this is somethin’ I would’ve killed to have had I thought of it. You did well, dove,” he praised and you felt your heart leap.
Gaz turned to you before holding out the scope. You raised your eyebrows, shaking your head and throwing your hands up in protest. “No, it’s for you—”
“Look through it, dove,” he sighed. “Give it a shot.”
You paused, glancing down at the scope. You hesitantly took it, giving Gaz a quick look before lifting the scope to your eye.
The sky was pretty before, but now, it was breathtaking to look at. You didn’t appreciate it enough before.
Through the lens, the stars twinkled brightly, waving hello. They were much easier to see, and much more beautiful up close.
You could finally understand why Gaz enjoyed his time out here. It was as if lying under a blanket of warmth, shielded away from the troubles day brought and invited into a night of oasis.
“Beautiful,” Gaz breathed out. “Am I right?”
You nodded, lost in the shining lights. It truly was, and you felt calmer than ever since your first night aboard. In the night sky, there was no Graves, nor danger waiting for you. Just blissful serenity.
You reluctantly pulled the scope away, handing it back to Gaz. He was already looking at you, and when you met eyes, he grinned, taking the scope.
“It’s a nice gift, birdie,” he said calmly. “No need to beat yourself up about it. I could feel you gettin’ all nagged up before you even arrived.”
He knew you were there? Embarrassment flooded your body and you grumbled in feigned annoyance, looking away. He snickered to himself, resuming his time with the scope.
The air filled with a light silence, the only sound being the crashing waves that seemed to further the peace. It was an escape from the hands of life, and you understood enough to see Gaz in a new life.
He was a pirate, through and through, but that human side of him stilled longed for a simple life. You couldn’t help but think of the last time the two of you spoke beneath a blanketed sky, when he had confessed he was a prince, yet turned to a life of crime.
“What was your life like before?” you couldn’t help but ask. “Before you were a pirate, I mean. When you were a… prince.”
Gaz made a noise under his breath, one of thought, and he slowly removed the scope, letting his hand fall into his lap.
“I had everythin’ I could ever want,” he started slowly. He made no efforts to look at you, lost in his own world.
“Then why’d you leave?” you pushed.
Gaz glanced at you from the corner of his eye before sighing through his nose. “Everythin’ can still mean nothin’,” he explained. “There was an arranged marriage between a princess from a neighboring country and I. When I flat out refused, it caused tension.”
Gaz twiddled with the telescope absentmindedly, his focus stuck on the stars. You wondered if he was embarrassed or ashamed.
“I didn’t want a lifetime of dead romance between a woman I did not want. I wanted freedom and individuality,” he continued, growing solemn by the second. You could feel the passion in his words.
“Did you run away, then?” you asked, curious. “You left the kingdom?”
Gaz snorted through his nose, though it was more bitter than amused. “I fled like a coward,” he corrected sharply. “War broke out the moment I left. Blood and ash was the only thing left of my home.”
You gawked in surprise, feeling a tightness in your chest. It seemed all too familiar, in which your home was destined with the same fate. By none other than him, too. It was dramatic irony.
“Your family?” you whispered, and he shrugged.
“Dead, surely.” His fiddling with the telescope grew more consistent. “I wouldn’t know.”
You frowned, turning away from him when he began to seem uncomfortable. Whether it was with your questions or simply his past, you weren’t sure, but you hated ruining a decent moment. They were rare as is.
“I apologize,” you murmured lowly. Gaz perked up, throwing you a weary look.
“Hm?” He sat up straighter, shifting so his body faced towards you. “Why are you apologizin’?”
“I made things uncomfortable for you,” you replied, deflated. “It is a difficult topic, I understand. So, I apologize.”
Gaz went quiet, staring at you with eyes that felt like they’d pierce through your soul. Then, he smiled, tilting his head to the side and eyeing you down. “That is to nobody’s fault but my own,” he assured kindly. “You lost your home just as much as I. I am not uncomfortable talkin’ with you.”
You lifted your head up enough to side eye him, testing the waters. He didn’t appear upset, especially not with you, to your surprise. You’re used to Price having an easy temper to set off, yet Gaz acted as if no anguish had been spoken.
You felt relieved.
“I am glad,” you commented stiffly, awkwardly. “I do not feel uncomfortable talking to you as well.”
Gaz released a lovely laugh that filled the air, easing the previous tension you’d been building on your own. “I’m glad myself, birdie,” he retorted easily. “I appreciate the gift.”
The gift sat in his palm, no longer being fiddled and moved at an anxious rate. It sat calmly, his grip light on it, as if he was now worried about holding it too tightly and damaging it.
“Soap told me you do not normally offer luxuries to them, nor yourself,” you recalled. “Was I a special case?”
Gaz hummed in thought, a smile gracing his radiant features. You had to stifle your own beating heart and sweaty palms. “I feel bad for you,” he confessed without a moment’s hesitation. “I figured an act of kindness could go a long way with you. It seems it has.”
He shook the telescope teasingly before letting it rest back on his lap. You smiled small, happy to know he truly enjoyed the gift and not simply out of pity.
“You do not have to feel bad for me,” you assured. “I will be quite alright.”
“Will you?”
You cocked your head in question.
“It is a lot to take on for a bird like yourself. You should be out there, livin’ how you want. Now stuck on here with us,” Gaz said. His expression was unreadable, but you could sense the slight concern.
“I could say the same for you, could I not?” you replied with a shrug. “You also seem to suffer similar fate.”
Gaz quirked his eyebrows, pursing his lips. He mulled over your words, giving them a decent thought. Truthfully, he knew you were correct. Perhaps that’s why he liked you.
“You win again, dove,” he replied softly, a warm smile on his face.
You smiled back, unable to hold back the sudden burst of feeling that coursed through your veins. Gaz made you feel heard, and under the concept of moonlight and stars, it made everything feel much more of a rush.
Your eyes locking on to one another’s made you nervous, even more so that he did it so shamelessly. It seemed as if the two of you got lost in time, the world around you freezing. The sound of waves faded away, the rocking of the boat seizing to a halt.
“Thank you for the telescope,” Gaz thanked, voice soft as ever. You nearly missed it.
You fumbled for words, wanting to look away but unable to. “It is nothing,” you murmured, fisting the fabric of the old night shirt you wore and had yet to discard.
Your daze seemed to falter momentarily when you felt a finger graze your cheek, the touch gentle as it mapped out your skin. Gaz seemed just as entranced as you, and in that moment, you grew fearful.
Fearful of what?
You couldn’t figure it out.
The distance between the two of you seemed closer than ever, and you don’t recall either of you moving. The realization made you jolt, forcefully tearing your eyes away and leaning back.
“I am glad you like your gift,” you muttered, flustered. You made quick work to stand on your feet, stumbling in the process. “I should rest. Enjoy your night, Gaz.”
You didn’t stick around to see the surprised look on Gaz’s face, nor how it morphed into crestfallen. You left as quickly as you could, making haste to the shared quarters so you could lock yourself in, pray to the Gods you fell asleep before he returned, and that Soap wasn’t awake to burden you with any questions.
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miyukisu · 1 month ago
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Took Me For a Ride .ᐟ
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❤︎ | It's raining pretty hard outside—good thing there are more ways than one when it comes to warming yourselves up... (1.6k wc) ╰ feat. geto suguru (jjk) x afab! reader
kinktober entry no. 5 | kinktober masterlist
tags - cockwarming, suguru is a tease, established relationship, overstimulation, p in v, cowgirl position, profanity, both of you are students of jujutsu tech
minors do not interact
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The teachers were gone for the day and it was rather peaceful. It meant that everyone back at the dorms could laze around in the room if they wanted to. But not you. Why would you stay in your room when you could be in Suguru's? Your boyfriend's bed felt better than yours anyway.
Having a day off was rare; you wanted to go out and make the most out of the day. But it was impossible at the moment. It was the middle of summer—highly unlikely for rain to fall—yet it did. It was raining like crazy.
It was a bummer. You were looking forward to doing all sorts of things with Suguru out in town. But then again, being wrapped up in Suguru's arms on what must be the comfiest bed in the world while the rain raged on didn't seem too bad either.
"How long do you think the rain will last?" you ask. He hummed and you felt it reverberate in his chest as you laid your head on top of him.
"Probably an hour or so. It's pretty strong." His soft voice was muddled by the raindrops that constantly hit the glass windows of his room.
You sigh, squeezing him a little tighter in your embrace. "That sucks."
"Don't you like cuddling with me?"
"You know that's not what I meant," you reply. Suguru chuckles softly, seeing you pout at his teasing. "It's just too cold. The blanket that we brought with us isn't thick enough," you add.
He starts rubbing his hand along your back as if that would generate some heat. "Want me to warm you up?"
The sly smirk on his face tells you that his words weren't at all innocent. He only confirmed your suspicions when you felt his hand go lower and lower—until he was groping your ass shamelessly.
You did this like clockwork. He does something so brazen and you respond in kind. Untangling your arms from his built frame, you straddle him. Suguru looks up at you with his cocky expression like he knows he has you wrapped around his finger.
"So eager to get warmed up hm?"
You shrug at him. "You offered, didn't you?"
You began rolling your hips on top of his while your hands remained firmly planted on his chest for support. Suguru's eyes never left your form; he wanted to ingrain every image into his memory. He was even kind enough to let you have the reins. He made himself comfortable, putting his hands behind his head to help him see you better—how your hips connected and how it would be even more so in a little while.
Often, you get lost in this feeling. Suguru hasn't filled you yet, but your mind was already fuzzy—opting to go on instinct alone.
A small whine leaves your lips and it makes the corners of his lips curl up. "I have a feeling that my pretty lady wants some more?"
You manage to scoff. "More? I want everything."
"Greedy, greedy, greedy," he repeats. He likes to act surprised as if this doesn't happen regularly. It makes it more exciting that way apparently.
"You know what to do then," he mutters beneath his breath.
And you do. You know it very well. You know to pull his sweats down excruciatingly slow because it makes his breath hitch. You know to trace that particular vein of his cock to make it harden completely. You know how to teasingly slide your panties off in a way that has his eyes almost popping out of his sockets. And you know how to give him a taste test before the main event.
Suguru licks his lips, watching the events unfold in front of him. It's a challenge for him to keep a straight face. Oh God, if you only knew the effect you had on him—you'd never be able to see him as a tough guy anymore.
You languidly swayed your hips forward and backward, rubbing your dripping core along the length of his cock. You were so close, yet so far.
"Trying to provoke me?"
His question was met by a teasing giggle. "I don't know what you're talking about."
"You fucking temptress," Suguru hisses and it makes you laugh again.
He may be getting impatient, but he can't help but let a smile form on his face. For now, he'll settle on grabbing your hips. He feels free to sink his fingers into your flesh, seeing as you practically allowed yourself to blue ball him without any remorse.
His tip keeps getting caught in your folds, hitting your clit the best way possible. As much as you wanted to keep on riling him up, you had your own limits too. Eventually, you craved something more stimulating.
Something that could actually bring you over the edge.
Suguru's eyebrows raise along with your hips. His smile grew wider, watching you hover above him.
"Heh... look who gave in."
"Oh please," you retort. It was an amusing sight to say the least—you being stubborn as you deftly hold his dick to line him up against your entrance.
Your nonchalance to the situation added to his own personal thrill. Seeing a woman flustered over sex is one thing, but to see them own it—it's everything.
Finally, you decide to do the right thing—give the both of you the relief you've been craving ever since Suguru grasped at your behind. You inch down, slowly. Even after all this time, his size manages to knock the air out of your lungs.
Little by little, you feel the sweet stretch that only he can give you. It slides in almost effortlessly with the way your walls have his cock memorized.
"Any time now," he teases. He finds joy in seeing your face scrunched up, either of annoyance or of pleasure. Either way, he was the cause of that reaction.
Soon as you reach the hilt, his hands grip your hips tighter. "Ah, stay right there, okay?"
"What? Why?"
A deep sigh escapes his lips. "Remember the last time you rode me like this—the way you bounced so shamelessly making the bed hit the wall over and over again? Or the way you were moaning like a bitch in heat?"
You click your lips at the recollection. You weren't proud of it, but neither did you understand what the issue was.
"So you must've forgotten how we got punished for that, hm?"
"I remember very well, baby. But that doesn't mean we can't have fun again?"
You intentionally clench around him, showing Suguru what he's missing out on. He sucks air through his teeth, trying not to fall for your trap.
"I think what you're forgetting is how they mostly punished me. They thought I was some brute fucking the brains out of you when in reality you're the slut who rode herself to orgasm."
To be fair, who would ever pin you as the type to do so? Clearly, it had to be Suguru's doing all along.
"Consider this as your own punishment," he adds.
But you scoff. Not even Suguru would stop you. So you brought your fingers down to your exposed clit, rubbing and making sure he was watching.
"This is a punishment, isn't it?"
"Then why aren't you stopping me?" you ask with a sly grin to boot.
The cocky smile vanished from his face as he swatted your disobedient hand away, replacing your fingers with his own.
Suguru was rougher. He knew how you liked it and it made your eyes water. It was like it was the easiest thing for him to do—playing with your pussy and making you cum all over him.
"F-fuck, slow down. I'm gonna cum."
"Isn't that the plan?" he quips. And as if on cue, you do come. He can tell with the way you clasp your hand over your mouth to prevent any of your pornographic moans from seeping through the walls.
What was supposed to be a smooth wave of pleasure was disturbed by his frantic movements. Suguru didn't let you peacefully ride out your orgasm. He was going to coax another one out of you and he was going to do it fast.
"H-hey, I'm serious—not so fast..."
But your pleas fell on deaf ears. Rarely did he get entranced by your pleasure, but perhaps today was different. His eyes were glued to your pussy, where the two of you were connected.
Like tidal wave, pleasure soars through you again. After being overstimulated so mercilessly, all the strength that held you up dissipated—leaving you a panting mess lying right on top of him.
You could feel the rumble of his chest against your cheek. "What? Can't take it anymore? Just rubbed your pussy a little bit and you're already out cold?"
"Shut up..." you spat back, albeit shakily. "And for your information—that wasn't just a little bit."
In between your pointless argument, Suguru was fighting for his life not to lose his shit—feeling the way your pussy clences and flutters around his neglected cock.
Suguru took a deep breath, lifting your hips up slightly. He anchored his feet to the bed, stabilizing himself You had a hunch where this was going...
For a man who teased you for being impatient, he was worse. He was deeply insatiable.
"Let me show you something that'll make that pale in comparison, hm?"
©miyukisu do not repost/reupload/translate any of my works on other platforms
╰ author's note fucking under cuddle weather hits different
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obsessedwithhotmen · 4 months ago
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⋆⁎✿ Finn ⇢ *- Taught To Please -* ⇠ Shelby ✿⁎⋆
⇾ (Peaky Blinders) Finn Shelby x fem!reader
⇾ Summary: essentially a part two for ‘Better than any other man’ where the reader teaches Finn how to please a woman.
⇾ Warnings: NSFW, oral (Female receiving) fingering,
⇾ Part One
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It was safe to say that when Finn Shelby saw his brothers the next day, they had a few things to say about the rather dark bruises on their younger brothers neck. While Arthur assumed it had something to do with the whore that had been hired for him, Thomas knew it was something else, something that his brother wasn’t ready to share with the rest of his family, so he decided not to crack on to the young boy about it.
Although over the course of the week, the rest of the family began to question what the youngest member of the Shelby family was doing when he’d disappear without a trace.
So, as Finn was leaving after a long day of work, Thomas pulled him aside and into his office. “What is it Tom?” The younger boy asked, sitting down in the chair at the desk as his brother pulled out a cigarette, passing one over.
“We’ve all noticed the hickeys. Aunt Pol says you don’t return back home most nights. If it’s whores then I hope you’re being careful.” Tommy said, getting straight to the point.
Finn gulped, putting the cigarette to his lips and inhaling the smoke. “It’s not.” He said, shaking his head. “It’s not whores.” He confirmed.
Thomas raised a brow, sitting across from Finn. “Then who is it?”
“My girlfriend.” Finn answered.
Thomas nodded his head. “Your girlfriend… and who is that.” He inquired, wanting to make sure that Finn wasn’t putting himself in a bad place.
“I don’t want her to be apart of our business, Tommy.” Finn said, sitting up straight, attempting to appear confident.
“Very well, but expect that we will find out eventually. I’ll let the others know that a whore will no longer be necessary.” Thomas dismissed Finn, letting him finally leave, although he wasn’t planning on returning home.
Like normal, Finn showed up at your house, looking to stay the night. “Tommy knows about us, we’ll not about you. But he knows I have a girlfriend. The others I think are suspicious about it too.” Finn said as sat down beside you in front of the fire, enjoying the heat that the flames gave off.
“I know you said you don’t want them to know about me for safety reasons, but I don’t mind if you do want to tell them about me. It’d be nice to actually go out with you instead of meeting up in secret.” You tell your boyfriend, hoping he was willing to give it some thought and allow the two of you to go on proper dates together.
You watched him as his facial expressions shifted, as if he was lost in thought. “I know you’d like to go out, but it’s not my family that I’m worried about. It’s the threats towards us. I’ve already lost a brother because of it, and I can’t risk losing you too.” It wasn’t the response that you were looking for, but it also wasn’t something you could be upset with, after all he was right. His job was dangerous, a constant threat to those he cared for, and you could understand his fear for allowing people to know there are others out there that he cares deeply for. “I’m sorry.” He apologized, placing a hand on your thigh and lightly caressing your exposed skin.
“S’alright, Finny. I understand.” You smiled up at him, resting your head on his shoulders. “Hopefully someday we’ll be able to show the whole world that we’re together.” You mumbled, staring into the fire.
“Hopefully.” He repeated.
His hand had subconsciously shifted up, unaware of the state it put you in as his caressing drew closer and closer to your lower region.
You hadn’t noticed at first, that was until you felt the tingling sensation going straight to your core.
Suddenly, an idea popped into your head. You placed your hand on top of his, Finn thinking nothing of it until he felt you tug his hand further up your thigh. He glanced over at you, wondering what you were doing, when he noticed the hint of a smirk on your lips while you nudged him closer and closer. He didn’t say anything, opting for allowing you to do your thing while Finn silently observed.
When his hand disappeared beneath your skirt, and his fingers met your underwear, his breath hitched. “Y/n, what are you-”
He was cut off. “Remember when I said I would teach you about pleasuring me?” You asked, waiting for his nod of agreement. “Well… I was thinking we could do that today.” You suggested, shrugging your shoulders nonchalantly.
His eyes brows raised at your suggestion, head cocking to the side. “And what is it you want me to do?”
“You know what.” You replied, feeling a sudden warmth hit your face as you grew shy.
Finn, taking note of the change in demeanor, started to smirk. “No, actually. I’m not sure.” He teased, thumb softly rubbing as the skin of your thigh.
You let out a huff in defeat, “I want you to touch me,” you pouted. Finn said nothing more as he allowed for you to press his hand over your underwear, grinding into him, “please,” you begged, pulling your skirt up so he could see the positioning of his hand.
“Oh shit,” Finn cursed, watching as you pulled aside your underwear, “uhm- what do I do?” He asked, unsure of how to actually please a woman as that was never something that he brothers brought up.
“Just touch me,” you stated grabbing his hand, “right here,” his fingers came in contact with your clit sending a shockwave of electricity through your body, “and rub,” you added.
Slowly, he moved his finger around the small bud of your clit, watching the way that you physically reacted to the stimulation. “Faster!” You begged.
Finn picked up the pace.
His confidence grew alongside your moans, feeling encouraged by the sounds you made for him.
At one point, his fingers grew slippery from your wetness, causing his finger to accidentally slip into your hole, to which Finn pulled his hand away and apologized. “S’okay, Finny. Your meant to do that too…” once again you grabbed his hand, pushing all but one finger down and pushing it as your entrance.
His finger slipped into your wet hole with ease, feeling the warmth of your inside and wishing it was his dick instead.
He pumped his finger in and out, even as you grabbed his wrist and dug your nails into his skin. “Finn- I’m close!” You moaned, eyes rolling back.
You reached down to rub at your clit, letting your orgasm wash over you. Your legs shook as you attempted to keep them open, until your high ended and the sensitivity came, then you clamped your thighs around his arm, stopping him from moving any more.
“That seemed easy, I thought there was more to it,” Finn commented, pulling his hand away from your core, unsure what to do with the wetness on his fingers.
“There is more to it,” you replied, placing his finger into your mouth and sucking off the juices.
Finns eyes widened at your action, thinking of the very first time you gave him head, and then it hit him.
A smirk grew on his face as his eyes dropped down to your closed legs. His hands landed on your knees, shoving them apart to make room for himself.
You let out a squeak as he dragged you down the couch and closer towards him, this way you were laying down.
Finn got off the couch, kneeling down on the ground and hunching over so he could be eye level with your core, looking up at you to gather your reaction.
You ran a hand through his hair, nails softly dragging across his scalp, “you don’t have to if you don’t want to, usually men don’t like doing it,” you told him, but Finn was adamant in returning the favor.
He lightly kissed your thigh, trailing them up until his nose was almost touching your pussy, when he used his fingers to spread you apart, taking notice of the cum that had dripped out.
Finn thought back to how you started off giving him head, how you licked from the base of his cock to the tip, and kept that in mind. His tongue darted out, touching your hole and tasting your cum, before flattening it and licking up to your clit, feeling the little pearl flutter beneath his touch.
The way you gasped has Finn thinking he did something right with licking at your clit, so he kept at it.
He sucked and licked, listening and paying attention to your reaction with every little thing he did.
He could never grow tired of the noises you made.
Your legs were closed around his head, but Finn didn’t mind, nor did he try and open them, he just kept his focus on pleasuring you, and pleasuring you was what he was doing.
The hand you had in his hair was tugging softly, your hips gyrating against his mouth, “oh- Finn! Feels so good…” you moaned.
Due to your sensitivity from the previous orgasm, it wasn’t long before your orgasm happened once more.
You came on his tongue with no warning other than the rather high pitched moans and harder tugs to his curls. “Shit!” You cried, body shaking.
You were breathing heavily as Finn pulled away from your core, a daze expression on his face matched with a bright smile, happy to have made you cum twice without having to use his cock.
“Should have told me to do that sooner,” he joked, sitting up and leaning over you, placing a kiss against your lips, “you taste nice,” he said.
“I’ll keep that in mind.”
“Please do.”
𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪
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tsukimefuku · 7 months ago
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blunt trauma ♰ nanami kento
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summary: your mission is to execute a curse user. the issue? said curse user is nanami kento, your former high school classmate and the man who you still secretly love.
tags and cw: dark content, no use of y/n, sorcerer!f!reader, villain!nanami, +18, explicit smut (mostly rough with tender moments hate/love sex), unprotected sex (wrap it, ppl), masturbation, oral (f receiving), pv, from enemies to enemies who fucked 👍, drama and angst (i’m a latina who grew up watching telenovelas), mentions of death, canon-typical violence, ptsd, cursing, hurt/no comfort, this man is saltier than the sea and turned it into everybody else's problem. 
wc: 7.5k
notes etc.: somehow it became a character study. this is my rendition of what i think gege would make nanami to be like if they followed their original plan and had nanami be a villain. inspo list is so huge i had to make a playlist, i got carried away.
writing/reading soundtrack: playlist link ; main songs → way down we go (kaleo) and daylight (david kushner).
disclaimer: i do not in any way approve of (or encourage) the relationship depicted here. it is toxic and bad for all parties involved. this is fictional and should stay that way.
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oh, father, tell me ♰ do we get what we deserve?
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It felt like the air had been beaten out of your lungs by the very one and only blunt blade you ever knew when you heard the news from Gojo.
Of course the first thing he did when he finished wrapping things up was calling you. If roles were reversed, and this had been Geto, he wouldn't expect any less from you.
During the School's Exchange Event, Jujutsu High was attacked by multiple high grade curses and curse users.
One of them was your former best friend from high school, Nanami Kento. 
"Are you certain it was him?"
"Absolutely," Gojo replied on the other side of the line, "there were traces of cursed energy from his cursed technique. He was also spotted by one of MeiMei's ravens."
"And how many students did he…"
"Two students from Kyoto."
Your head instantly felt dizzy.
"He also killed around a dozen assistants and people securing cursed objects underground."
"Shit… shit," you muttered, forgetting for a few seconds what words were and how to form a coherent sentence. Following suit, your stomach dropped with a sinking ache the moment you made the obvious realization, uttering the most painful thing you had to say in your life — even worse than he's gone, so many years before.
 "This will earn him a death sentence, won't it?"
Gojo was silent for a few moments.
"Hey…"
"Tell me. I can take it."
After a bated breath — from your end, mostly — he confirmed your worst fears.
"Yes. It will."
Ever since Geto's and Nanami's defection, you and Gojo had a special type of shared sorrow over each other's failures to save the people you both loved the most. Call it trauma bonding or codependency, but you developed an unwavering sense of loyalty towards one another.
For that reason, he already knew what you were about to ask him, and you only would because you knew he wouldn't find it in himself to refuse it.
"When it happens, please, have me be appointed as the executioner."
"Of course."
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Sitting with a glass of whiskey while gazing out of the window in an understated house just by the outskirts of Sendai, Nanami couldn't say he was fulfilled, unable to grasp the concept of feeling in any way elated ever since his teenage years. However, he was definitely satisfied that this plan had worked.
He managed to put a dent into Jujutsu Society, aiding Geto — or, at least, someone that looked like him, not that Nanami truly cared about it by this point — in retrieving multiple cursed objects that would be used for their inevitable fallout.
There had been a few casualties, though.
Two students and many personnel died — or rather, met their fateful end by the edge of his blunt blade —, but some deaths should be expected if Jujutsu Society was to be brought to the ground, down to its last brick.
Ever since that fateful day when he was nothing but a tall child sitting beside the cold corpse of his best friend, Yu Haibara, Nanami had simmered what would become a cauldron of absolute venom-dripping rage against Jujutsu Society.
To hell with saving other people — what about them? What about the teenager that would never grow to be a sorcerer, who became an inanimate nothing before ever getting the chance of making something out of himself? 
That face… Nanami could never forget it. It haunted his dreams, even a decade later. Such a stark contrast between the light-spirited smiles and this cold, gray monolith that laid in the morgue.
They had no right to rob their students from their youth, much less from their lives, but that's exactly what Jujutsu High did when they didn't even bother to check the mission appropriately before dispatching Haibara and Nanami to a certain death.
Nanami escaped, but just barely, by the skin of his teeth. Haibara, however, wasn't blessed with the same luck, and drew the short straw when his hitched final breaths met their end against Nanami's shoulder. Nanami, who carried his best friend on his back, desperately tried to win a losing race against death. 
Help was late to arrive.
They were too late for Haibara.
And, in a sense, they were too late for him, too.
The worst part, though, was when they were finally being transported all the way back to Jujutsu High. As he glanced over Haibara’s cadaver, now covered by a body bag, one particularly insensitive assistant very rudely stated, “at least there is a body to be buried.”
At least
There is a body 
To be buried
Those words echoed in his head for what felt like eternity. Was that the best they all had to hope for? To at least have remains left behind for the mourning?
In any case, that was why, even though he had to kill, Nanami never mangled any of his human victims — something not easy to do, given how his technique worked and how easy it was to split someone in half.
You had noticed this perverted benevolence while looking over the necropsy reports, a realization that just added insult to injury.
Let there be something for the funeral, I suppose, was what he told himself.
In his own twisted way, Nanami figured this was a kindness very few sorcerers received at their tragic ends, and decided he'd definitely be more compassionate than what Jujutsu High put their sorcerers through. 
In his eyes, those from Jujutsu High who died under his will were the ones granted a truly merciful death.
His peace was disturbed by the sound of the entrance door being brutally kicked in, flying its way across the living room. He pulled his blunt blade from the side of his armchair with his free hand, but quickly put it down when realizing it was you that had just barged inside.
He knew you very well — well enough to be certain you wouldn't come swinging at him immediately.
"I can see you still have a temper. Destroying the door wasn’t necessary, I would've opened it for you," he stated, sipping on his drink.
"I don't care," you retorted, "I guess you already know why I'm here, in any case."
"I do. You're here to carry out my death sentence," he stated, completely unbothered, as if talking about the weather.
As if he was just mundanely stuck in his ways. 
You huffed, placing your hand over your sword's handle.
"Precisely."
"We haven't spoken in a long time, why don't you take a seat?" Nanami inquired, pointing at the armchair right in front of him. "I want to finish my drink."
You glared at the curse user, as he, unfazed, kept gulping on his whiskey. Nanami was wearing a black buttoned shirt, black pants and black oxford shoes, and you couldn't help but see him as a grim reaper — this was a somber look, fitting for the equally somber man who carried it.
For a second, you took in his features — you hadn’t seen Nanami for a few years after the last time you crossed paths.
His shoulders had slightly broadened, and he still bore the same chiseled face, framed by his sand-blond hair neatly slicked back.
Nanami’s eyes traveled over you quickly, apparently doing the very same thing.
Time had left its marks. It was evident you both had grown up — and apart.
You knew this was a shit idea, but entertained it enough that you actually walked towards the chair and sat down. There were definitely things to be talked about, and you just about had a million questions for him.
Most of them, however, boiled down to what you immediately asked.
"Why did you do it?"
Nanami put his glass on the coffee table right in front of you.
"It was a necessary means to an end."
His words came with frost-bitten coldness, his voice embodying the monotone you once loved, but eventually, grew to hate.
You scoffed, incredulous at his reply, involuntarily clenching your fingers around your katana's handle as it laid on your lap.
"Necessary means to an end? Nanami, you killed teenage sorcerers!"
"As I said, and I don't like repeating myself," he interjected, "it was a necessary sacrifice for a greater cause."
"You're such a hypocritical, self-righteous ass!"
Nanami sighed, clearly displeased.
"We have always been able to keep some semblance of respect for each other, despite our… differences. Do not use that foul language with me."
You laughed bitterly, no amusement or fun in your voice as you did.
"Do you think I can still have an ounce of respect for you after what you did? You murdered my people! They were all sorcerers. You killed students, Nanami! Jujutsu High's students! Just like Haibara once was!"
He shot his eyes at you, and the aura of his cursed energy grew sinister at your words. 
"Don't say his name."
Yu Haibara, arguably the glue that kept the trio together. You were hot headed, Nanami was intransigent, and Yu was the conciliatory ray of sunshine that kept you two — but you, particularly — from constant quarreling as classmates nearly every day.
But back then, you'd argue with Nanami with love.
This wasn't the case now.
Not entirely, at least.
"He was my best friend too, the three of us were! Do you really think this is what he would've wanted?!" you questioned him, equal parts hurt and enraged.
"I'm not one to ponder on could've or would've been's. Haibara is gone."
"I'm not a would've been!"
You could still remember it. The day you realized why dealing with Nanami and hearing his sharp comebacks riled you up so intensely. 
You finally understood you were in love with him.
Ever since the first day you met Nanami, you envied the way he'd be able to keep his feelings in check when you constantly felt like falling apart. You felt jealous at how he was considered a greatly competent individual, regarded by all as the best of your class, while you were basically viewed as a ticking bomb nearing explosion. And finally, it made you livid the way how everyone treated him like the informal leader of the trio when the three of you were out on a mission together.
However, those were the same things that got you to admire your friend and, eventually, fall in love for him.
That day, you asked Nanami to meet you outside after class by himself — much to Haibara's dismay —, because you had something to tell him. It was a Tuesday afternoon, and the unforgiving sun of summer was already setting, casting an orange glow through the leaves of the tree you were both under.
After confessing your feelings for him and bracing yourself for being shot down, because why the hell would Nanami Kento, the brilliant, competent, and mature second-year, have any interest in the chaotic, hot headed mess you were, you realized he actually looked surprised. After taking a few moments to collect himself, Nanami told you how he had thought you actually hated him.
At last, somewhat nervous — but definitely intent on not letting it show —, he confided he had affectionate feelings towards you as well.
Your first kiss was awkward, as it would be expected out of two inexperienced people such as you and Nanami were at that age, but it carried the sweet taste of a blue spring marked by teenage years' innocence.
It felt like a promise.
Unfortunately, such promise was unmercifully cut short the very next day, when Nanami and Haibara were dispatched to their life-changing mission.
What an irony it was that, in the end, you were the one to actually mature over Haibara's death, growing up to be an upstanding sorcerer, loved and admired by peers and students alike, and Nanami was the bomb to blow up in everybody's faces.
What a cruel irony.
"I was there too, and I'm still here, having to pick up the pieces of what you deliberately destroyed!" you rasped, angrily.
"You weren't a 'would've been'? Where were you when we needed you? When I needed you?" his voice didn't conceal the tinge of hurt that those questions carried.
What a fucking low blow.
"Nanami, that's not fair. There wasn't anything I could've done in that situation, and you know that!"
You blamed yourself for a while for not going on that mission with them, until you realized that you too would probably have died if you were there. From the three, Nanami was the only one strong and fast enough to pull off an escape like he did.
He diverted his gaze back to the window.
"You were the one to bring up hypothetical scenarios. Let's indulge in them for a minute, shall we?" 
Nanami glanced back at you, and his next words brimmed with bitter resentment, even if his voice sounded more calm and collected than ever.
"You see someone you supposedly love slowly sinking into darkness. What do you do?"
"Don't you dare, you condescending prick! I asked you so many fucking times what was going on. You were the one who shut me out!"
Your voice carried a decade-old pain that resonated from the depths of your soul.
It came from all the times you entered his dorm room with his favorite sandwich after he had cooped up in there for days on end, and he didn't even bother to eat it. Every time you asked him to talk to you, said you were there for him, and was met by a vacant stare.
And, at last, the time when he cruelly blamed you for not being there when Haibara died.
The way he coldly told you about Haibara's last words.
According to Nanami, Haibara said he wanted to speak to you one last time, at least to bid you farewell.
And you weren't there.
Oh, the viciousness with which he blamed you, and decided you owed him something for this perceived failure. 
The next time Nanami talked to you, he asked you to leave Jujutsu High with him, just like Geto did, and swore to destroy them. You tried, pleaded, implored for him to reconsider and stay, but the very following day, you were met by an empty room where the person you once loved used to be. 
That emptiness had, paradoxically, filled you wholly with grief.
Gojo once told you that nobody could save someone who didn't want to be saved.
You still thought you should've tried harder, in a childish attempt at giving yourself an illusory semblance of control over that clusterfuck of a situation.
This is the gap inside our psyche that feeling guilty tries to fill, isn't it?
We can only feel guilty about the things we could've changed, right?
Your voice sounded decades older than yourself, burdening the weight of multiple lifetimes of hurt and grief. Your soul was too old for your own good.
"How can you find it in yourself to blame me for this?! No… This is a prison of your own making. You built the house of cards that is tumbling down on your head as we speak entirely by yourself."
He huffed intensely through his nostrils — Nanami’s version of a snort —, looking the other way before proceeding, each syllable hitting you with the deadly precision of his cursed technique.
"You abandoned us, leaving me and Haibara to fend for ourselves, just like Jujutsu Society did."
By that point, you began yelling, and your voice reverberated all across the room.
"The hell I did!"
You had to take a deep breath before proceeding.
"I just couldn't get behind this dumb idea that we should become curse users and bring down Jujutsu Society."
"Why didn't you come with me?" he finally asked, in an amalgam of pain, sadness, longing, anger, and stinging resentment. "I would have followed you to the deepest recesses of hell if you asked me to."
You huffed, laughing angrily in between your teeth, before thrusting your words like thorns against him.
"Funny you should say that. You'd go anywhere for me? How about staying? Why couldn't you have stayed for me, then?!" 
Perhaps that request was egotistical, but you didn't care. If only for a moment, you wanted to give yourself this small privilege — to want in a world of duty.
"I was the one actually left to fend for myself, right inside the belly of the beast, and you couldn't have cared less."
He stared at you, nothing in his eyes other than the void left behind after his spirit got killed with his best friend so many years ago.
"I didn't stay because… Because," Nanami stated, with a grave finality, "and you're the one who chose to stay. You're still actively choosing to, just like you did back then."
"That's not a good enough answer," you replied with a bad taste in your mouth.
"It's what you've earned," he coldly replied, "but in case you change your mind-"
"Enough," you interrupted him, incredulous that even after everything, this man had the nerve of suggesting you'd ever be interested in running away with him. "It appalls me you would even consider I could… After what you've done? No, never."
Nanami sighed, and for a brief moment, seemed to be actually disappointed under his resigned, polished visage.
"Well, then. Let's get this over with, at once."
In a split second, you pushed your chair on the ground, falling on your shoulders and rolling on your back, dodging his lightning-fast attack. It left a crater behind, right where you were seconds before. Nanami jumped over the fallen armchair, and you dodged him once again, spinning on your heels, unsheathing your sword as you did so, to deal a beheading blow on the back of his neck.
However, right before impact, you faltered, slowing down your movement.
Your own body held you back from taking his life.
He didn't seem to notice.
Nanami bent down just in time to avoid the blow, and swung his blunt blade towards your kneecap. You were quick on your feet, and jumped back, putting a good distance between the both of you.
"I can see you're actually fighting to kill," he noted, getting up on his feet.
"Of course. That's what I came here to do," you spat in his direction.
"You were never the practical one."
You scoffed.
"Guess I learned something from you."
He smiled at the irony of that, but his eyes didn't follow his expression. 
Nanami lunged at you, but while you thought he'd deal his next blow in your direction, he hit your footing, having you fall on the ground. Abruptly, his blunt blade descended in your direction, but you were able to catch it and have it slip to your side using your katana supported by your hand behind it, sending a sharp, loud sound around the vicinity, trembling against the bones and flesh of the house.
You rolled on your side when he struck a new hit in your direction, leaving another gaping hole on the floor, and you jumped yourself up. 
Before you could attack him, however, he took you by surprise, and you lifted your sword to defend yourself. Nanami hit your katana with his blunt blade, breaking it near where the handle and the steel met, launching your body back on the wall.
The impact knocked the air out of your lungs, and you fell to your knees, unable to recover yourself as you got up. Instantly, you heard his quick, steady steps sprinting their way in your direction.
You were cornered.
This is it.
You braced yourself for the impact, closing your eyes. You remembered his technique perfectly.
Precise, just as he was.
Deadly, just as he was, too.
You were to die at the hands of the man you loved, who had become a murderer and only a distorted, broken version of whom you used to truly love.
This seemed like an oddly cruel way to go.
However, the impact never came.
His blunt blade stopped as it was about to hit your stomach, and you opened your eyes, just to see his face mere inches apart from yours. His mountainous form blocked your view from anything else behind him, and Nanami, at that moment, actually looked like the menace he truly was. 
“Why were you appointed as my executioner?” Nanami asked, much to your surprise.
“I asked to be,” you answered, holding his gaze as something went through his eyes. A hint of anger, most likely, and some sense of betrayal, certainly. 
“So, you want to kill someone you once loved? You were always prone to self-penitence, so it stands to reason you’d do something idiotic like that.”
You scoffed, grimacing at him, feeling your entire body incandescent with rage.
“I fucking hate you, Nanami.” 
He inched his face even closer, brushing your noses against one another, eyes stone-cold and hauntingly vacant.
“I hate you as well.”
For a moment, you wondered if he had really stopped his blade before impact. You didn't expect it, but hearing those words felt like you just had been hit, victim of a blunt trauma, at how much they tore you apart. 
The same blunt trauma that severed the Nanami you once knew — the teenager with bangs, who'd always be carrying around a few spare changes to get soda cans from the vending machine for you and Haibara, in his own understated kindness — and this empty monster looking back at you.
"Good. Finish me off, then, and get your revenge for a crime I never committed. Being unfair and an all-around self-centered asshole certainly suits you, fucker."
His hand made its way up your neck, and you were pressed against the wall. The grip was firm, but not enough to choke you — it came more as a warning than anything else.
"I already told you to stop using that foul language with me," he ordered, low voice simmering with genuine irritation.
"Then make me," you challenged him, hoping for this torture to be over as fast as possible.
Just fucking kill me already.
His blunt blade fell with a thud on the floor, and you were confused for a moment, wondering if he really wouldn't give you the kindness of a quick demise. Did he plan on choking you to death?
Did he hate you that much?
His other hand came up, but before you could do anything to try to resist — which would be nothing but a futile attempt at survival, given that Nanami was physically much stronger than you —, his fingers snaked their way through the back of your hair, tugging it at the roots. 
His mouth clashed against yours, all teeth, tongue, anger, and hunger, and instantly every nerve in your body flared up with a raging fiery ember you hadn't felt in years. All the pent-up resentment, hurt, and desire you had for Nanami swirled together in your gut, guiding your hands up his hair, as you also pulled on it intently, robbing him of a gasp.
You intertwined your tongue against his, and he unceremoniously bullied his own inside your mouth, leaving no crevice unexplored, as his hand on your neck descended towards your waist, where he clenched his fingers with a vicious grip. You whimpered against his lips, and he grunted in return, pushing his body on yours. His throbbing growing cock could be felt, even through both of your clothes, as he pressed it right against the edge of your pants.
When you finally parted after what seemed like a not-long-enough eternity, you huffed and panted, and albeit less than you, he was panting too.
"I fucking… hate you…" you gnarled, glaring into his eyes. The hazel-brown gaze you once adored was now clouded and dark, like the muddy waters of a deep lake.
"Shut the fuck up," Nanami groaned back, strongly cupping your cunt with his large hand. You whimpered in surprise, and he pulled you in harshly for another kiss, letting go of your hair and sex to sink his fingers on the backside of your thighs, pulling them. You immediately jumped up and threw your arms around his shoulders, as he manhandled your legs to have them hooked around him.
He quickly took you both inside the room, and tossed you on the bed, having you gasping in surprise. Before you could catch your breath, he climbed his way on top of you, pressing your body down, and clashed his mouth against yours again, making you actually lightheaded from a lack of air.
You pushed against his chest, grunting uneasy, and surprisingly, he parted his lips from yours.
"What?"
You panted heavily, nearly hyperventilating, and mindlessly rested your hand on his cheek.
"C-can't breathe…" was all you mustered up to say, trying to replenish oxygen back into your system.
His eyes softened so discreetly you nearly missed it, and his cold-ivory enclosure slightly cracked under the affectionate touch he didn't expect.
Nanami had no idea how much he had craved it ever since you parted ways, and hated himself, just a little, for how much such an innocuous gesture stirred his old feelings up, throwing his heart against his chest in a fluttering rush.
I should be over her by now, dammit.
Nanami also brought his hand up your face, and ghosted over your cheek for a second before sliding his fingers delicately down over it.
You also weren't prepared for that, and your chest tightened all over your heavy heart as you remembered your first kiss.
The way he'd cup your face in his hands.
 So delicate, so lovely.
This touch, at this very moment, felt like a painful reminder of everything you had lost.
"Kento…" you cooed, voice strained in your throat, with all the things you were sure you'd never say.
He hummed your name in return, and kissed you while sinking your body against the mattress. This kiss was different, as his lips brushed gently over yours, and his tongue tenderly teased over the seam of your mouth. You welcomed him in, and you both explored these deep waters tentatively, as he upped the intensity after each stroke of your tongues against each other.
He tasted like whiskey, and bread, and the tainted love left behind as nothing but a reminiscence of less grueling days. You couldn't help but feel robbed by him.
You both had been missing out on this for all these fucking years.
"Why did you have to go?" you asked, pulling back from him, a tinge of anger to your cadence, and another of pain in your face.
"Why did you have to stay?" he spat back at you, equal parts saddened and resentful.
His mouth made its way to your neck, and you gasped with the sensation of his warm breath mingled with saliva against your skin, as he licked and bit his way around.
You couldn’t find it in yourself to push him away, and your eyes burned with the prickling sensation of tears that wouldn’t come. You were starved for his touch, his smell, his body, even if this was the murderer of your students, of your friends.
In your head, you felt like digging a hole and throwing yourself in it, to wallow in the misery of realizing that you were about to fuck the murderer of people you loved, and that it felt good.
A pool of heat and fire shot down your insides as your heartbeats throbbed in between your legs.
You hated yourself, and on top of it all, hated Nanami. 
Hated that you couldn't help but still love him, even after all he had done.
This was the setting tension in between the both of you, the two extremes of hate and love pulling against each other, all while the tug of war rope refused to snap to either side.
He pulled your shirt over your head, tossing it aside, and you undid his shirt, unzipping his pants. He unzipped you too, and quickly enough, took off your pants along with your panties with a single sharp tug.
Back to rough, but not entirely, it seemed.
His hand glided against your thigh and his fingertips slipped over your entrance, getting completely glazed by your already dripping arousal. He grunted, a guttural and intense sound deep in his chest, giving you another bite on the soft skin of your neck.
"Hate me?" Nanami asked, teasing his digits over your cunt, "doesn't seem like it."
You managed to scoff at him, which would prove to be a mistake.
"Go fuck yours-"
Before you could finish your sentence, he dove two of his fingers inside knuckle-deep, without any hint of a warning, forcefully stretching your walls around them. You immediately let out a whimper so pitiful you wondered if that was really your voice.
He seemed satisfied at that. Perhaps, even elated.
"Good girl," Nanami whispered right beside your ear, nibbling against your earlobe with his teeth, sending shivers down your spine. He began sliding his fingers in and out, and you bucked down against his hand while moaning and mewling, walls sheathing his digits as he finger-fucked your cunt, neglecting your clit as punishment for calling him a condescending prick earlier.
His palm rucked against your dripping folds, echoing wet slaps all throughout the room, as your arousal kept pooling on his palm.
He mumbled softly against your skin, bringing his mouth up to brush against yours, "hate… you still love me."
You instantly drew one of your hands to slap him in the face for this hurtful teasing, but he had quick reflexes — quicker than yours. He dodged himself back as your hand hit the empty sheets, and edged his fingers to hit against your soft spot, pressing it so violently, you let out a strained cry from the shooting overstimulation pain.
"Ah- Shit!" you shouted, face all scrunched up.
"Can't you behave for once?" he chided, "why is it so hard for you to j-just-“ 
Nanami’s breath hitched in his throat as he grunted, unable to finish his sentence.
You shut him up the only way you could think — grabbing his cock harshly over his boxers. It was extremely effective, and he immediately humped his length against your hand, while lowly groaning.
With trembling hands and a violent snap, you haphazardly pulled his boxers down to his mid-thighs, as his fingers kept mercilessly bullying their way inside you, sending vibrating waves all throughout your body with every thrust.
“Stop… telling me… ah-aaah-“ you rolled your eyes back with a loud moan, struggling to keep a train of coherent thought, gnarling your next words,  “what to… ah- do!”
His cock sprang out, slapping against his belly. The tip was already flustered red, leaking with pre-cum, and had a long, prominent vein on the underside.
To punish him back for the roughness, you grabbed his length with one hand, and with the other, pressed the middle of your palm against his flushed tip, glistening his arousal around it with enough force to jump across the divide between intense pleasure and painful overstimulation.
Nanami cursed with a feral voice through his teeth, immediately biting the side muscles of your neck with no semblance of restraint, making sure to leave a purple remnant of pain etched on your skin.
“Ah- ouch! Fuck!” you spat out, tightening your grip around his cock, but weakened enough to release the tight pressure against his tip, letting him fuck into your hand. His hips bucked erratically, and his lips pressed a quick kiss right where he had previously bitten.
He couldn't help it.
Suddenly, Nanami stopped his rutting fingers to press his thumb against your already throbbing clit. That instantly had you seeing stars as you cursed loudly in between moans and grunts, drawing your free hand to his head, ferociously tugging at his hair, as heat pooled in your lower abdomen like fiery embers of coal.
He grabbed your arm, pulling it away from his shaft, and removed his fingers from your walls, having them clenching around nothing at such a sudden emptiness. You began complaining, only to have your voice cut short by his tongue slipping its way inside your mouth, in a sloppy, wet kiss. 
Parting from you, Nanami’s eyes were glassy, and you were absolutely sure your gaze must’ve looked just as hazy as his.
In a brief moment, before you realized it, he slid himself down, and unceremoniously lapped at your already sensitive clit with his warm tongue, hot breath tickling against your sensitive skin.
Both of your hands descended towards his hair, brushing over his golden and now messy locks more tenderly than you expected. Nanami suddenly shivered and moaned into your cunt, edging his tongue down your folds and back, eyes fluttering shut the moment he tasted you entirely.
He felt a tinge of pain clench at his chest, realizing this was the taste he had missed out on for all that time — your taste, which would surely ruin him forever.
Nanami’s pain, however, was quick to turn into outrage, as he began sucking on your clit relentlessly, eliciting the most animalistic sounds you had ever uttered.
You instinctively tried backing away, and he pulled on your thighs, holding them with such a violent force that his hand was sure to leave an engraving of his digits over your plush skin.
Nanami was intent on dragging this orgasm out of you by any means necessary.
You had never given him anything he wanted from you — be it the company to fight against Jujutsu High or the same unwavering loyalty he had for you. So this was something he’d take.
If you wouldn’t be by his side, then the least you could do was to cum for him so fervently, he’d be sure to ruin you just as much as he felt like you had ruined him. You owed him that, or so Nanami thought.
“Aaah-- Kento! S-slow d-… fuck!”
You came with a thunderous shout, jolting your hip forward as your thighs tightened with inhuman strength to the sides of his head. Nanami made sure to deliciously lick your way down from your high, applying such a precise and perfect pressure on your clit that you could’ve wept from sheer satisfaction.
After your legs went limp, he slowly climbed his way back to you, pressing kisses all over your body, leaving a ghost of heat wherever his mouth traveled. When Nanami finally reached your face, he put his forearms against your sides, hands over your shoulders, caging you in, as he pressed his mouth against yours in a slow kiss.
You were floating in a calm sea, salty waves caressing your body every time they passed through, and it felt cozy. Inviting, even. As he parted his lips from yours, Nanami gazed into your eyes in the way he used to.
For a second, you got catapulted into the past, and the orange sun that warmed your cheeks through the leaves as you kissed for the first time seemed to shine its rays over again.
With his arms around you, the nonsensical feeling of being protected washed over your heart.
“Come with me,” he whispered with a sultry, husky voice. 
“Kento…” you cooed, sighing, wanting nothing more than for this moment to extend for infinity.
But it couldn’t.
You didn’t go with him, so many years ago.
And wouldn’t go now, either.
That wasn’t how it worked for the both of you.
Nanami understood it, and what seemed like another crack against his unwavering walls had formed the moment his brows furrowed above his eyes.
“Fine, then,” he said, with a tinge of genuine hurt to his voice.
You parted your thighs to accommodate his hips, and he obliged, guiding his hand down to align his cock against your entrance. You bent and hooked your legs around him, pulling him in, and as the tip of his length got pressed against your dripping cunt, he gasped slightly over your lips.
Nanami sunk in slowly, going through your already relaxed ring. However, it apparently wasn’t relaxed enough, or perhaps he was just too big, because you could feel every inch of stretching his cock made against your walls as he slowly bottomed out inside your cunt.
His mouth fell open and you exhaled a moan into it, breaths mingling together. You two drank each other in. Nanami pressed his forehead against yours, and you both held each other’s gaze, as he pulled your left wrist above your head, holding it there, pushing you down the mattress by your waist with his other hand.
After a moment for you to take him in, Nanami began rolling his hips into you, while his hand kept bruisingly pressing your wrist against the mattress. You could feel his balancing act of trying to love you and wanting to hurt you at the same time.
You weren’t so different from him in that sense, though. Your nails got dragged down his back with abrasive force, and for a second, you considered drawing blood from him. He grunted, and you saw the spark of cold-hearted anger flash through his now dimmed eyes.
You both wanted to love each other just as much as you wanted to hurt each other.
In a more forgiving universe, perhaps, he’d hold your hand tenderly, intertwining his fingers in yours. Maybe you two would be in the kitchen as he showed you one of his favorite bread recipes, and share quiet moments of understanding companionship when remembering those who had left this world too soon.
But this wasn’t that universe, unfortunately.
He was to die, and you were to carry out his execution. 
Except you couldn’t, because even if you still tried to cling on to any sliver of morals, even if his life was something yours alone to take, the mere thought of a world without Nanami was far worse than the reality of a world in which he was a murderer.
You insisted on fighting a losing game, and much to no one’s surprise, you lost. 
Good riddance to me, I suppose.
His grunts came hitched and stuttered against your mouth as he was now rutting himself into you, biting your lower lip hard enough to almost pierce the skin with his teeth. You moaned loudly, dragged around with pain and pleasure, the combo that seemed to summarize the gist of your relationship.
He let go of your wrist and descended his hand without a warning towards your already overworked clit, glazing his thumb against the ring of arousal you were leaving around him before starting to make circles around your nub. Your moans came out cracked and faltering, as you tried to resist the instinctive urge of fleeing that the overstimulation was eliciting.
“Give me… one more,” Nanami groaned lowly against your cheek, planting multiple kisses down the side of your face and your chin. His hair — which had already fallen from its usual slick arrangement — brushed against your fluttering eyelids, momentarily weaving golden sand colors over your your vision, and you drove both your hands to the back of his head, pulling him in for another kiss. 
You could kiss him like this forever. 
You actually wanted to, at that moment.
To his request, you nodded, and this was probably the first time you acquiesced to any request Nanami had ever made to you. 
Fulfilled, his thrusts and his finger over your clit became increasingly erratic, as he was now moaning your name against your mouth. You pushed your tongue over his, sliding your hands up his head to tug at his roots, and that was all it took to tip him over the edge.
Nanami came with a muffled groan, having your tongue still pushed inside his mouth, and kept pumping himself inside you trying to keep the comedown at bay. His thick, white cum got glazed all over inside you, and the slaps of flesh and skin began sounding ever more wet than they already were.
You weren’t so far off, with your walls fluttering around him, and he noticed it, keeping his now trembling thumb pressed and circling intently over your clit. With one perfectly applied nudge on your sensitive bud, Nanami finally pulled you over the edge along with him.
Some tears began pooling on the edges of your lashes, and all your emotions — anger, sadness, grief, longing, and a particular brand of despair you cultivated during the last decade — came crashing down as he wrenched your second orgasm from you.
Your body convulsed under him, fluttering walls expelling his softening cock out, as you shouted and grunted into his mouth. You didn’t know if you were more furious at yourself for still loving him, at him for loving you, or at Jujutsu Society for jumbling you both like pawns to be tossed around until you two were broken beyond repair.
Angry at them for sending the young out to have their spirits crushed too soon. For all the deaths no one got to mourn because there was too much work, too little time, and the wounded were always left behind to fend for themselves.
Just like you were.
And just like Nanami was.
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You sat at the edge of the bed while putting your shirt back on, and looked back at Nanami, who had his buttoned shirt open over his chest.
“Are you still resolute on your decision of not coming with me?” Nanami asked, with a tinge of eagerness. Or maybe it was just your imagination.
You pondered for a moment, and knew exactly what the answer to that question was.
“Yes. I’m not coming with you.”
For a second, you caught the faintest glimpse of the person he used to be. Something aching to genuine disappointment.
The longing that flashed through him, unfortunately, was quick to go, as he began buttoning his shirt down, averting his gaze elsewhere.
“Why?”
“Because I’d hate myself for the rest of my life if I did,” you stated, sighing before continuing, “and it’s not because I can’t kill you or because I love you that I don’t despise you. You crossed an uncrossable line.”
He pursed his lips, and almost felt regretful for the path he chose.
Almost, since regret now would come ten years too late.
“You can’t go back. They will know you let me go,” Nanami remarked. Be it from him or from looking around this house, Jujutsu High would surely hold you accountable for this — for willingly letting the curse user and murderer, Nanami Kento, escape their wrath.
“I know that,” you replied, a tad bit more defeated than you expected, “that’s why I’m fleeing to Hokkaido.”
He sighed and looked at you. You held his gaze, feeling a little hint of anxiety at what he seemed to be simmering under the surface.
With a warmer expression — or as warm as he could muster it up to be  —, Nanami spoke again. 
“I truly want you to come with me. You’d be safer. We’d… be by each other’s side.”
For a moment, you faltered, open lips with no sound coming out of them. Blinking yourself back to Earth, you asked, “you mean together?”
Nanami kept silent, but nodded, waiting for your response.
He wasn’t just asking for you to come with him, but to be with him.
You wanted to. You did. Something Nanami never knew was just how much you wanted to follow him when he asked you the same thing, so many years ago.
But even though you wholeheartedly loved him with every minute part of your being, your loyalty lied elsewhere.
Not with him, but with the people he had killed.
Well, at least that was the comfortable lie you were capable of living with.
It would destroy you to realize the loyalty you had for the murderer of the people you loved. 
In the end, even if you weren’t a teenager anymore, you were just as much a hostage to your feelings as you had always been.
The ticking took a long time, but the bomb eventually went off.
With a decade’s old delay.
“I… just can’t. I can’t.”
Nanami reclined himself against the wall over which the bed rested, closing his eyes as he supported the back of his head on it. 
He never told you, but this moment broke his heart all over again.
He felt pathetically small.
Guess we get what we deserve, after all.
“You really do have a taste for penitence,” Nanami noted, his voice barely concealing the bitterness that tainted those words.
You scoffed, getting up on your feet, ready to leave as the first rays of sunshine began bleeding through the thick curtains that covered the bedroom’s window.
“Go to hell.”
He chuckled, a sound you hadn’t heard in a very long time. However, it sounded off-key. Wrong.
Sad.
“We’re already here.” 
At the end of it all, he wasn’t wrong.
You were doomed to always keep leaving each other.
If only the world had been a little kinder.
But kindness, it seemed, wasn’t in the cards for you.
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End notes: I’m silently screaming. Oh my, this one took way longer than expected, but I enjoyed the writing process during every step of the way (I mean, if that wasn’t evident already from the fact that I made a playlist for this 😂). I forgot how much I was a sucker for gut wrenching angst. Hope you enjoyed it too! 🦉
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Tag list: @actuallysaiyan @diogodxlot @jadedjane @redlikerozez @voiceless9000
@marvelousfanfictionbitch @kentocalls @ohhheymessa @magical-girl-b @simp-manhwa
@codenamesongbird
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fandom-oneshots-etc · 1 year ago
Note
Hey, can you write a story about Evan Buckley and Reader announcing that she’s pregnant to the 118 at like a family gathering :)
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🍄 Pairing: Evan Buckley x Reader
🍄 Genre: Fluff
🍄 Summary: At a 118 family gathering, Buck's overprotective nature reveals a little more than the two of you had planned.
🍄 Word Count: 1618
🍄 Abbreviations: N/A
🍄 Warnings: Pregnancy, implied pregnancy complications
🍄 Note: I really liked this request Anon! I hope this is what you were looking for. I thought about this scenario and I instantly imagined Buck accidentally announcing the pregnancy rather than planned. If you would rather a planned version, just pop in another request. A similar request came from @quinnstan247. Enjoy :)
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You could feel the eyes following you closely as you slipped into the kitchen to refill your glass of orange cordial. Your overprotective, puppy-dog boyfriend remained outside in the garden of the Nash household along with the rest of the team as they stood around Bobby and the BBQ grill. You knew that Buck was searching for any reason he could to follow you inside, but you met his gaze through the windows and offered him a reassuring smile that seemed to subdue him for the minute.
Since the second you found out, Buck had been glued to your side. It had been three weeks since you took that test, since your doctor had confirmed it and in that time you had, had to convince him every single day that he could leave you and go to work. Every day he fought you, wanting the both of you to stay home so you could rest and he could wait on your every want and need, but you couldn’t do that. You were only thirteen weeks along and there was hardly any reason to be confined to the bed just yet. You knew that he was only concerned about the safety of you and the peach you currently carried in your womb. It was endearing and one of the sweetest things you’d ever seen, you hadn’t thought that Buck could get any sweeter, but here you were one act away from having a mouth full of cavities.
What hadn’t helped was that Buck had been responding to a number of pregnancy calls in the past few weeks a few resulting in sadder endings than anyone wanted. They had definitely struck a chord with Buck and had only made him hover all the more.
Adding the water to your cordial, you took a sip of the orange, a light buzz filling your taste-buds. You had become obsessed with anything orange flavoured since your pregnancy diagnosis. Whether it was orange skittles (which Buck had kindly sat and sorted out for you), or orange flavoured chocolate, or even the orange flavoured cupcakes you had found at the grocery store and ate within an hour of buying, anything orange and you were all for it.
Walking back into the garden, your entire body seemed to clench a little as you stepped back into the gaze of the sun. As much as you were enjoying this down time with the 118, it was so hot. The heatwave had only hit LA in the past few days but already it was in full swing and you were feeling every beam of it.
“Y/n,” you turned over to where Athena was sat with Hen and her daughter May. The three of them were stood around the mini bar that Athena had installed, in direct sunlight. Already hot, you fought down the urge to grimace as you moved to stand by them, the sun glaring on your skin. “We were just telling May about Buck and that kiddie ride at the mall. She doesn’t believe us.” Hen informed and a grin split across your lips, taking your mind off of the sweltering heat.
“Oh my, God. I have a photo, hang on,” You pulled your phone out of your shoulder bag and set your drink on the bar, thumb flicking through the many photos in your gallery in search of the one from the Saturday before. “He thought it was funny and I tried to tell him he wouldn’t fit but he insisted,” You giggled and turned your phone for May to see. “I honestly thought I’d have to call nine-one-one.”
Displayed across your screen was the photo that still had you giggling a week later. There sat Buck, who had squeezed his way into the small metal bus which was obviously aimed for children 7 and under. But Buck had twisted his body at all kinds of angles and had somehow managed to worm his way into the ride. His head was poked out of the door hole, his legs curled up against his chest, unable to stretch out in the tiny space that his body was occupying.
What Athena and the others didn’t know was that Buck wouldn’t have gotten into the ride if it wasn’t for you. That morning your hormones had been playing you like a fiddle and every little thing had upset you, the bin bag had broken when you were trying to change it out for a new one, somehow a red sock had slipped in with your whites and now everything you owned was slightly toned pink and they had shown that advert with the puppy sat in a box, in the rain, on the side of the street with people walking past ignoring it. It seemed, that morning, that everything was stacked against you. Buck had offered to come with you to the mall so you could pick up your clothing order from a store, you had ordered certain items that they didn’t have in stock and they had delivered into the store the day before. You were buzzing to see the new pair of pumps you had ordered. You knew that in a few months if not weeks, the shoes would probably be pressing against the sides of your feet and ankles because of the pregnancy swelling, but that hadn’t stopped you from ordering them in your size. However, like everything else that morning, even that didn’t go as planned. The shoes had been delivered in the wrong colour and in a size smaller than you wanted, making them impossible to wear. Buck had seen how disheartened you had been when you left the store, trying not to cry in frustration. He had wanted to do something to cheer you up and in a joking manner he had made a bet with you that he could fit inside the kiddie bus ride.
It had definitely succeeded in cheering you up, if not from how silly he looked, his large muscular frame curled up inside the ride, from when he got stuck and couldn’t get himself out straight away. You had done what you could to help him out, but you were giggling so hard your entire body went weak. When he had finally gotten out, the two of you had continued to giggle all the way home and your mood had been lifted for the rest of the day.
“Oh, my God,” May giggled. “That’s the funniest thing I’ve ever seen. Please send me that!” she begged.
“Of course,” you agreed with a laugh of your own. “I could never gate keep on a photo like this.”
“What made him get in there?”
“It’s Buck, does he need a reason?” Hen scoffed. As the ladies continued to giggle, the heat seemed to make it’s presence known as it glared down onto you. The side of your temples was beginning to throb and your skin was starting to get slick and sticky, sweat oozing from your pores. You raised a hand to swipe at your brow, glancing around the garden for the closest seat, your legs aching.
As you moved towards one of the sun loungers, your boyfriend’s eyes caught onto your movements, already on high alert.
“Y/n? What’s wrong?” he asked, abandoning his drink at the grill and rushing towards you, one arm slipping around your waist to help guide you to the seat.
“Buck, I’m-”
“Dammit, it’s too hot out here for you. We should’ve cancelled,” he began muttering to himself. “Are you dizzy? Do you need a drink of water? What about something to eat? Is your blood sugar low? What if you’re dehydrated?” The only thing making you dizzy was the hurricane of questions Buck was sending your way, not even leaving a chance for you to answer them. One of his hands instinctively came to rest on the front of your stomach.
“Babe? Baby?” You tried to pull Buck out of his panicked rant, his eyes not once meeting yours as he kept scanning you for any visible injuries. Not that there were any, but the paranoia was getting the best of him and the heat probably wasn’t helping.
“We should get you in the shade,” he decided. “Shit, you should’ve stayed inside. You’re carrying precious cargo now, baby. You and peach can’t take this heat. We shouldn’t have come. This is all my fault-”
“Buck!” You pressed your hands to the sides of his face, directing his eyes to yours so you could try and ground him. “Buck, baby, I’m fine. We’re fine. I’m just a little hot and tired that’s all. It’s normal.” He still seemed a little uncertain, and his eyes held a lifetime of worry for you and his unborn child. “We’re okay. I promise.” You offered him a reassuring smile, your thumb coming to brush against his bottom lip rhythmically, giving him something to focus on. His eyelids pressed shut as he breathed slowly for a second.
“Are you sure? ‘Cause we can go home-”
“We’re fine. I just need to sit for a minute that’s all.” You peeked over his shoulder. “While I’m sitting, we should probably talk to the people behind you, they seem a little shocked. You kind of let the cat out of the bag.” Buck twisted his head to look around at the team behind him, everyone stood, jaws dropped and eyes wide. Eddie was the most comical of the bunch, his glass halfway raised to his mouth ready to take a sip but frozen in time with the news that Buck had unintentionally shared.
“H-Hey, guys,” He chuckled awkwardly with a sheepish grin. “I guess we have some news to share.”
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loveswrites · 4 months ago
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Hi!🫶🏻
How are you? You haven't written in a long time. Btw, i really like your fics.
I was wondering if you could maybe write a poly!cullen x reader fic?
If you don't like it, you don't have to, of course🫶🏻
So I'm Tasty? Poly Cullens X Reader
Time it took me: 1 hour
Word count: 624 words
To Anon: Hey love! I'm doing lovely! Thank you for read my writing! I love when you guys tell me how much you like what I create! I wrote this one just for you. It might be a little short but I heard you guys miss me?
Love <3
“I’m better when I’m with you.” Jasper said, holding your hand as the two of you strolled through the woods. Well the eight of you. You and Jasper just separated yourselves from the group a little. 
“What do you mean?” You questioned looking up at him.
You were the one that had suggested that you guys go for a walk. You were feeling stuck in cluttered sitting inside of your own house all day. You much more preferred sitting in the Cullen's house rather than your own. 
“My thirst for human blood is easier to tame when I’m with you.” Jasper said, keeping his eyes front as you stepped on the wet wooded area.
“So what you're saying is I don’t smell good enough? I’m not intoxicating? I’m offended.” You pouted, crossing your arms. Hearing laughter next to you and a few laughs and snickers behind you made you turn around stopping in your tracks. 
“And why are you laughing?” You yelled slightly offended.
“You feel the same-” 
“Yes.” You were cut off as you continued.
“You think I wouldn't taste good!” You said pointing to each individual Cullen who each had a slight smile on their face. Their golden eyes look at you with so much amusement. 
“I actually think the opposite.” Emmett said, raising his hand.
“Me too, You humble our desire for you a little too much sweetheart.” Esme said, also raising her hand causing Carlisle to laugh a little.
“You were the first human in a long time. I didn't think I would be able to resist.” Rose said, raising her hand as well.
“You think this type of resistance is just here and easy?” Alice said, holding her hand high. 
“Though I would never ‘eat’ you, I’ve seen it.” She smiled. You shook your head as you smiled Alice always uses her powers to see a little further into the future to calm your nerves rather it’s because of a test or if a plane was going to blow up tomorrow. 
“You already know how I feel.” Edward said, raising his hand with a slight smirk on his face.
“I think what we meant was we also feel the same as in your presence. Your presence is so calming and relaxing to us that the urge to ‘Eat you’ As you say is buried deep inside.” Carlisle said, smiling at you. It’s like his Golden eyes shimmered every time you looked at him.
“But trust me it’s still there.” Jasper added, making you laugh immediately. Because as much as he loves you and you knew that for a fact. There are still some times when you can’t be around Jasper Because he hasn’t eaten for a few days.  
The rest of the Cullens nod in agreement to Jasper's words.
“So I am Tasty?” You questioned just wanting to confirm.
“Yes darling. Now let’s go.” Jasper said, throwing his arm around your waist guiding you to start back walking. The sun was creeping back down and with Vampires or not you never liked to just sit in the woods at night. 
“So hypothetically if I were to bake a cherry pie with just a little bit of blood you think you guys would notice?” You questioned walking with Jasper.
“Don’t do that.” 
“A cherry pie sounds good actually.”
“Immediately.”
“That doesn’t look like a good decision, please don’t make that.”
“I don’t think it counts as biting a human right?”
“That would break my no blood streak sadly.”
“You guys are no fun.” You pouted still thinking about it.
“Don’t make it!” Alice yelled.
“Why not!” You yelled back starting a bickering war all the way to the Cullens house.
 Something you loved to do with your anti blood lovers.
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agatharkn3ss · 1 month ago
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Agatha's info/rumours
I thought I'd pull together all the info we've been shown in ep.6 and add my interpretation to it. I still can't believe that Billy read these short bits and claimed he knew an "egregious" amount about Agatha.
As usual, biased towards Agathario, because I think they are heavily implying Agatha's connection to Death (I mean yes, the writers could just be trying to explain why the internet would be so invested in her identity, but still)
First of all - "333 partial results for Agatha Harkness Ancient Witch". I love yet another allusion to how Agatha is linked with number 3, making her the actual harbinger of doom (I explain this here).
It's interesting that the related questions are all about the immortality of the witches:
Are witches immortal?
Do real witches ever die?
How do you kill a witch?
How old is the oldest witch?
If we didn't have other super-old witches in the show, it would make me wonder if Agatha didn't make some sort of pact with Death (Rio), where she provides "bodies" to her in exchange for her long life. But as it is, we have Lilia as 450+ years old and Jen is also older than a century, but you don't see them trying to kill people (I think).
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The very first search result is quite fun:
"The Macabre Wiki – a comprehensive encyclopaedia of all things that only come out after dark. Created by two blood witched from Salem"
No matter what, I will forever believe this is Agatha and Rio's page. (for reasons explained here)
The rest of the search results are not as exciting:
Witchy Resource – Ancient witches and ancient warlocks are not well documented traditionally and usually for good reason…
Witches and Aging – Apparently, witches are able to chose how they age and present themselves to humans. Some withes choose to stop again at a certain point staying roughly 30 years old visually for literally hundreds of years.
Dreadit – Salem Witch Trials – Recently I’ve been researching a ton on the SWT and not many people know this but there are reports of witches that actually survived burning and drowning
The Art of the Ancients – Learn about the secret art of witchcraft and the witches that have [...]
So this suggests Agatha specifically chose her look and age. Neat. Quite empowering really.
Also, another suggestion that some witches can be immortal and survive burning and drowning. I wonder if we will see this in the show - Agatha and Rio having absolute blast at mocking people who were trying to torture/kill Agatha, only to realise she wasn't feeling any pain, she would just raise and shout "Surprise witches!".
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Then we go onto the Salem Witch Trials page. This pretty much confirms what we already know about them. I immediately clocked how all the handles only have green or purple colours... Coincidence? I've not tried to decipher the names, but if anyone has any suggestions, let me know!
witchygirlblack: Did any witches survive the Salem witch trials? Are they still alive? Where are they? Witches can live for hundreds of years, so the ones that survived the trials might still be out there [] witchkraft dreadit, you must know of some?
4thlevelwarlock: The Salemites, Evanora Harkness’s coven, were prominent in the area. I’ve heard rumours [...]the young children from the coven escaped
SamSamwitch: @4thlevelwarlock look familiar? [Agatha image link]
BoftheEast: be careful posting about her just saying
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Then Billy takes the photo through reverse image search. I know these are tiny, inconsequential details but I still love them:
"Looky" sounds like a little nod to Lilia's "kooky"
The letters “o” have moons inside of them.
Each letter has different colour that seems to align with the witches – light blue (Jan - water trial?), purple (Agatha - spirit), yellow (Lilia - air), dark blue (Billy?), orange (Alice – fire)
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This search then leads to a number of events that Agatha has been spotted at. Rather than pull out the quotes, I'm going to put the events in a chronological order and add relevant background info:
Salem Witch Trials (1692-1693) - this was a series of hearings and prosecutions of people accused of witchcraft in colonial Massachusetts. More than 200 people were accused. It was the deadliest witch hunt in the history of colonial North America. This is the time where Agatha's mother and her coven try to "punish" her for using "the darkest of magic". Her fingers weren't black, so she's unlikely to have had Darkhold back then. (btw the script for this suggests Agatha was 18 at the time, so she was born ~1675, making her ~351 years old in 2026)
The Eastern Seaboard - Although we don't know the exact dates, there are "unconfirmed reports of Agatha traveling the Eastern Seaboard". This could relate to various areas but this is likely just referring to the US East Coast. The Thirteen Colonies, which formed the United States in 1776 were located on this coast, playing an important role in the development of the United States.
The sinking of the Titanic (1912) - the British ocean liner sank as a result of striking an iceberg on her maiden voyage from Southampton, England, to New York City, US. Of the estimated 2,224 passengers and crew aboard, approximately 1,500 died. Agatha is listed as one of the survivors
The Hindenburg disaster (1937) - a German commercial passenger airship caught fire and was destroyed during its attempt to dock at Lakehurst, New Jersey, on its journey from Frankfurt, Germany. The accident caused 35 fatalities among the 97 people on board, and an additional fatality on the ground. The publicity shattered public confidence in the giant, passenger-carrying rigid airship and marked the abrupt end of the airship era. Again, Agatha is spotted as a woman who "survived the explosion then disappeared"
"Jolene" (1972-1973) - The headline states "Does this 1972 Surveillance photo of Dolly Parton show the real Jolene?" and Jac Schaeffer confirmed that yes, Agatha = Jolene. So I had some fun with this, because why not?! I wondered what Agatha's play would've been here. Is she truly after Dolly's "man" - if so, in what way? Or is she after Dolly herself? Note that although the article says 1972, later on we also see statement that Agatha was last seen in Nashville Tennessee, 1973. Now - that year in Nashville, Dolly not only recorded "Jolene" in May, but a month later she also recorded "I will always love you" - a song that is widely understood to be a goodbye song to her business partner because she decided to pursue solo career. In my head this is all a result of Agatha's influence, who showed Dolly her real power.
On that note, I don't think we would be far off assuming that as Agatha kept Dolly (or her man) her company, she would've actually come across Lorna Wu herself? We know it was similar time, because "The Ballad of the Witches Road" record was made in 1978. Alice mentions how she got her tattoo in Colorado as her mum was playing at the Red Rocks amphitheatre. Dolly Parton also performed at the Red Rocks in 1972 (the same year as the camera footage), so Agatha could've been there...
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Finally, we get to the "brujapedia" - the encyclopaedia of witches. It's fun to speculate who could be running this page - the whole theme is black and white, with red highlights. There is also an image of a raven - as I discussed it before, it is a symbol of bridging the world of life and death. So it would be fun if it was Death herself maintaining it, as she would be the only one who would truly know who the real witches were. Also it would be a cool census of who is still remaining for her to "collect" their dues.
Another good spot from @chaotic-homoromantic is that "bruja" is a Spanish word for "witch", giving us another hint to Rio.
I couldn't really find any info on any other names other than the top one. Abigail Adams was a founder of the US, wife of John Adams, the second US president and mother of John Quincy Adams, the 6th US president. I'd like to think witches had some input back then.
Also interesting is how Agatha's surname is misspelled - it has two Ks. I wonder why that is - no way it's a mistake, seeing how much detail they've put into this. Maybe it's a subtle suggestion that this information came straight from Agatha herself or as a joke from someone who knows her, since she's known for using wrong words. (or it could just be a suggestion that all of the other names on this list are also misspelled, explaining why we can't find any info on them)
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Then we get to some info about her - most of which I already collated into the timeline above. There is also a vague mention of Nicky: "Agatha Harkness. Son. Name unkown, rumours [...]"
But there are also some other bits - hilariously referred to as "FUN" facts:
Fun Facts:
Murdered her entire coven
Possesses succubus powers
Nick name is “witch killer!”
Only known survivor of The Witches Road
Folklore references: It is said certain children’s book make reference to Agatha [...]
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Funny how the nickname absolutely includes the exclamation mark. I feel like maybe Jen was the one who submitted this info.
As for the children's book - I feel like it wouldn't be just a single story but more like the Grimm's Fairy Tales. Following Lilia's comment, Agatha probably was the template they used for "evil witches" - poisoning apples and stealing kids and eating children. It's not something she would deny anyway.
Now, the Succubus comment is interesting. In lore they are generally depicted as a sexual being - "a female demon or supernatural entity in folklores who appears in dreams to seduce men, usually through sexual activity."
But I think in Agatha's case, things are different. Yes, she has the charisma and can probably seduce people quite easily (I mean, she probably seduced Death, didn't she?). But I don't think that's like a magical power. In fact, if it was, it think it would be really unfair to Agatha, erasing the fact that her character had to build and evolve around her experiences and the fact that she had to survive - "in a way that few do". So I think this "fun fact" could be partially coming from someone's snarky comment (Dolly Parton's?), who just wanted to take away Agatha's agency. Or fell for Agatha and then blamed it on her "powers" rather than admitting their own gullibility. Just like women over the centuries were accused of witchcraft and casting curses if things simply didn't go the way someone wanted.
Plus the way she goes about getting her magic from people is absolutely not seductive. She simply finds a way to annoy the heck out of the target!
But of course, that's not all there is to it, because on the other hand Agatha has her syphoning ability - now that could also be described as the "succubus powers" referred to above. In DnD succubus attacks using a "Deadly kiss", basically draining the essence of life and I feel like this is quite a good description:
"The kiss of a succubus is an echo of the emptiness that is the fiend’s longing for a corrupted soul. Likewise, the recipient of the fiend’s kiss gains no satisfaction from it, experiencing only pain and the profound emptiness that the fiend imparts. The kiss is nothing short of an attack, usually delivered as a final farewell before the fiend escapes."
In that magic/soul sucking way, she would have more parallels to Death, explaining their connection. More so, if Agatha can't control her powers - because Death does not really have much control either, she just has to do her job when the time comes.
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