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#her having to take off on her own because she needs a break only to come back and find out sam left for standford and didnt tell her
melrodrigo · 1 day
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friends? p.2
Cairo Sweet x Fem Reader
Summary: A rivalry between you and Cairo has been going on for several months…what does it take for her to finally break?
Warnings: there r literally none they bicker like an old couple and cairos mean
Word Count: 2k+
A/n: helloooo i’m not sure abt this chapter but lmk what u thought, i cranked this out in its entirety last night, enjoy!
part 1
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Friendship was not Cairo Sweet's strong suit. Ask her about Dickinson or Austen or Shakespeare—these were all things she could answer. But the ultimate question of friendship was not something hot on Cairo's mind.
She didn't need it, that was her take. And why would she waste time on something she didn't need?
Friends, much less a partner, was something she never saw for herself. The thought of being a housewife, living in a picture-perfect picket fence house, appalled her. The only things that mattered were her, her writing, and Yale.
So when a certain girl had entered her life, she hated it.
You.
You with your stupid face, and pretty hair, she hated you. A burning passion so intense it heated up her heart and made it race. So intense that she wanted to punch you in the face whenever you passed, only to bandage it up with feather light touches so she could punch you again harder.
At first it was nothing; she didn't have a thing to worry about. A blushing face while you stammered and fumbled around trying to give Mr. Miller an answer, she disregarded you as someone she could respect immediately.
But obviously she had caught you on a bad day, because after those first few weeks, you managed to present yourself in a less idiotic way.
You were, surprisingly smart.
Almost too smart, she pondered. It was getting in the way of her own studies. How could it be, that someone was on bar (never better) than her?
Often she found herself seething at you, arguing at every chance she had with your answers; but, you had given her the same treatment as well.
It wasn't strange for your classes to end in heated debate, both sides failing to yield. It bothered her greatly. She went back home and read more than she'd ever read before, studied just a few minutes longer because she could feel you taunting her.
"Sweet." You nodded, as she pushed open the doors to Millers class. You'd made it a habit to arrive early, leaving only you and her for a good thirty minutes before everyone else arrived.
It was infuriating. To have you so close, open, ready to harm, yet she could do nothing. She'd been having a particularly grueling week. Her parents had just come back from Brazil; and, always seemed to be ready to go at her throat. Gone were her lonely but comforting nights on her bed, candle-lit. Now it was just fights and condescending jabs.
"What did you get on the paper?" Your voice piped up, breaking her from her train of thought. You were referring to the paper Mr.Miller had given back last week, one that counted for forty percent of the grade.
She felt a swell of pride. Scores were something she could argue about. This would take off the stress she'd been building.
"99." She smirked, cocking her head to the side.
You whistled approval, nodding adamantly. Even though there was nothing to suggest so, she could swear she felt condescension in your tone.
She was good at picking out stuff like that. The roll of someone's tongue, the way they smack their lips—it all meant something to her.
She pursed her lips, narrowing her eyes. "What did you get?" She asked, brows furrowed.
You didn't say anything, simply holding up a finger and mouthing 'one hundo' and watched as disbelief took over her features.
"You're fucking lying." She seethed. Her good mood had suddenly disappeared just as fast as it had appeared.
You spun around in your seat, stupid smile on your face. God, she wanted to jump at you and claw it off.
"Hey, hey, it's okay to be mad. You can't be the best at everything." You told her, hands behind your head.She gripped the desk harder, knuckles turning a faint white.
She stood up, walking over to your desk."You little shi-"
"Good morning, the both of you!" Mr.Miller interrupted, cheery smile. His enthusiasm radiated off his body like rays radiated from the sun. He stopped short when he saw Cairo stalking close to you, a clear pout on her face.
"What are you doing?" He asked, question directed towards her, voice sickly sweet. He had grown fond of Cairo since the beginning of the term; she was his favorite student.
"I'd like her to be removed from the class. Can't you do that Mr.Miller?" She avoided his question, tilting her face at an angle where her chocolate colored eyes shone bright.
His white brows furrowed, not quite comprehending. "You mean," He started, "right now...?"
Bless him, he had no clue how manipulative Cairo was.
She doesn't let up, doesn't let her disappointment show. You notice it in the slight clench of her jaw--she's annoyed.
"I meant for the rest of the term, I can't stand being in the same class as her." She emphasized her words with a glare in your direction. You send her a sweet smile back.
"Please, flattery will get you nowhere." You winked, smile turning into a real one when you see her get visibly agitated.
"Please, girls. Let's be civil here all right?" Mr.Miller pipes up, trying to stand in between Cairo and you. It does nothing to lessen the tension in the air.
He turns slightly to Cairo, voice firm. "And no...I won't kick Y/N out."
The childish part of you desperately wants to fist pump the air; but, the more serious side of you decides maybe you shouldn't do that in the company of your arch nemesis.
Class turns weird fast. Cairo—normally quick and adamant—stays quiet, seemingly distracted by the simplest of things: a bird singing softly from a window, the great big forests where her house stood, the sound of your feet continuing to scrape against the carpet.
It irks you a little. It has you not listening in class, wanting to focus on the girl in front of you.
You almost don't hear it when Miller announces that you'll be working in pairs for the midterm project, preoccupied with her bobbling head, moving as if she were listening to some imaginary music.
"You will not be able to pick your own partner, that's already been done for...by me." He adds, after hearing the onslaught of voices from the students. It's clear he's not changing his mind.
"Alright. When I call your names, go sit with your pair and discuss how you'll do the assignment. Olivia, Taylor." He calls out the first pair, going down (what seems like) an endless list of names, never quite getting to yours.
You watch as countless people move around, silently looking out for who hasn't been called yet. You needed to get a good grade on this, and a lazy partner was going to be a nightmare.
You strain your ears to hear Mr.Miller over the commotion of students moving, but when you turn to squint at him you're surprised to see he's already looking at you.
A sinking feeling eats your entire being whole as you watch his mouth move. He points his finger at you, then someone in front of you.
Cairo Sweet.
Fuck.
Even though you loved to tease her, you did not need to have Cairo Sweet as your partner. She was likely to ruin you before you even got to starting the thing.
You don't make the first move to get up, instead you sit dumbly in your chair, bracing yourself.
Your peace is disrupted by a huff from above you. There she is.
"Move over. I need a seat." She says, something in her voice making you oblige. She pulls over an extra chair and sits by the other end of the table.
"You can come closer ya know." You say, unsure of how friendly to be. You'd only ever really spoke with her from a distance, a comfortable distance. Now that she's up in your personal space you feel ike you're going to suffocate.
She ignores you, pursing her lips as she listens to Miller explain the project.
You inch your chair closer, prepared to make a sly jab at the way she's being a teachers pet, but her stare—which has now been redirected on you—stops you in your tracks. She looks scary.
Lips downturned, nostrils flaring, you're a bit taken aback.
"Okay jeez. You don't have to be such an ass about it." You mumble, distancing yourself a great deal further than you already were. The mood, if it weren't enough already, turns more sour.
She ignores your suggestions and remarks on how to do the project, scribbling something down on to her notepad every now and then.
"Earth to you, Sweet. Are you listening to me?" You press, starting to feel those tendrils of annoyance grabbing you. It was one thing to be an ass, but to put her own feelings above doing good work was low, even for her.
Especially for her, you think.
"Do you ever shut up?" She growls, biting her cheeks so hard you could see the indent it was making on the outside.
"Okayyy...someone's obviously going through something, but can we just-" You gesture to the sheet of paper on the table, you haven't even been allowed to look at what she's written yet.
"I am NOT going through something." She says again, voice cracking. The sound brings forth a peculiar reaction in you, your mouth hanging open. Her eyes look...watery.
Before you can utter a word she's getting up and storming out the classroom, making heads turn left and right at the loud noise.
"Um...I'll be right back too." You say, sending Mr.Miller a cheeky smile and a wink, hoping that'll lessen his curiousity enough to not come out after the two of you.
You push open the doors, call Cairos' name a couple times.
You eventually find her outside, back pressed against the brick wall. She's lighting up a cigarette.
Her body language looks more calm now, but you're not sure what to do. You shuffle on your feet, twiddling your thumbs.
"Sorry I did that." She speaks, not turning to look at you. It startles you a bit, you hadn't realized she saw you.
"Cairo Sweet saying sorry? I must be dreaming." You try, although you're not smiling and she doesn't laugh. Humor seems to be sucked away in this little bubble belonging to only the two of you.
You move a little closer, then even closer when Cairo doesn't object. Even though you did hate her to the bone, you wanted to make sure she was okay.
"Are you...alright?" You ask softly, watching her face for an answer. She seems to be deep in thought.
She takes a swing from her cigarette and blows. "I don't like you." Is what she says.
The ice breaks. You no longer feel like you're supposed to pity her. This was Cairo Sweet, her heart was made of coal.
"Yeah I think we established that. Anything else?" You sigh, leaning back so you're also pressed up against the wall.
She turns to you, and for the first time, she doesn't seem very mad.
"I don't like you." She says again, moving closer. It's in your natural instinct to step back, why was she being so weird? Was she going to hurt you?
She grips your shoulder lightly, enough for you to get the message to stay still.
"I don't  like you." Cairo mutters for the third time, eyes piercing into yours. She seems to be speaking a little lower, a little raspier than normal. Cogs seem to be turning in her head, debating and debating and debating.
Debating on what you can't be certain.
"I get it, you don't like me. So what?" You mummur, voice lower than normal. The proximity is making your mind feel a little clouded.
You try not to let your gaze drift down to her lips, but when there's nothing around to distract yourself with, they do.
Her freckles, the ones that litter her face. You get the disgusting urge to touch them.
"So...don't get the wrong idea." She says before taking your lips in a kiss.
It takes you a second to comprehend what's really happening. You stand frigid, mouth parting to gasp. You're gasp is swallowed by her own lips, soft and supple.
Once Cairo feels that you aren't responding, she pulls away, frightened look on her face. Pink lips downturned, her cheeks a rosy red. You don't have time to process what the right move is. For now, you don't need Cairo thinking you didn't like whatever that was.
You reach for her neck, pull her in for a second kiss. It's somehow better than the first. She responds quick, hands wandering to cup your face, then down to circle your waist, then up to tangle in your hair—like she's changing her own mind too quick.
You let her take the lead, pressing you into the wall with a strength you didn't know she possessed.
You're too lost in it all, the smell of her shampoo, the feeling of her teeth scraping your lips, biting down only the slightest, her fingers burning traces wherever they go.
"Sweet." You breathe, coming out more like a soft moan than you would've liked.
She breaks apart from you, a wild mess. You think she's never looked prettier, hair everywhere, lips torn from your heated kisses.
Her eyes are soft until they flash and something else takes over. It's as if your voice had brought her back to life.
"I don't like you." She snarls, and promptly turns on her heels, just a slight increase in speed than her normal strut.
You're left breathless, staring out into the green plains. Mind and heart racing, you're not sure which organ you should listen to.
The implication of what you did hits you like a freight train. You groan and press your hands to your head, willing and willing and willing for a solution to come out of it.
Not to anyones surprise, nothing comes. A magic fairy doesn't tell you what to do, and you're still standing behind school panting.
"Oh god."
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thewertsearch · 2 days
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TG: i thought about taking his sword TG: when i was there TG: but i couldnt TG: couldnt really bring myself to try to pull it out it was too weird
Even if you did, you’d have to break it in order to wield it - and unlike your regenerating sword, I don't think Bro's katana will be very effective as a half-blade.
GG: dave we have to stop him!!!!! TG: what GG: jack! […] GG: why dont you stop jumping around through time like a maniac and stop being like a hundred daves all the time and come to my house so we can make a plan to kill him??
I’m liking this new, more pro-active Jade. With Rose distracted by Doc Scratch's games, we probably need a new leader, and I think Jade could fit the bill.
However, I don’t think any number of Daves would be enough to take Jack down. That’s exactly what Aradia tried, and we all know how that turned out. If a thousand telekinetic necromancers can't put a scratch on him, I don't think Dave will fare much better.
TG: besides we cant beat him TG: look what he did to bro and davesprite together TG: im at the top of my echeladder with all the fraymotifs and i stand no chance
Dave’s already stronger than Future Dave was when he came back to the past. His progress is astounding - but the session's power creep has got so bad that it doesn’t even matter.
Like - let's imagine, for a second, that all four kids attacked Jack with their full power, right now. If they all synergized perfectly, taking full advantage of John's hurricanes, Rose's Horrorterror connections, and all the time duplicates Dave can make....
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They'd still be reduced to a fine mist.
Jack has inherited a power strong enough to raze the entire Earth, and none of the kids can touch him. Becsprite initially seemed like an opportunity to match that power, Sun-to-Sun, but Vriska, for her own godforsaken reasons, nixed that plan.
The kids have got nothing. Even their plan to cheat by destroying the Green Sun is probably hopeless, because we know it ultimately serves Doc Scratch's ends, not ours. Things are really dire.
TG: only thing we can do is hold out until the scratch GG: what is the scratch? TG: guess i shouldnt really say TG: since you sort of lead the way in making that plan
And then there's the Scratch plan itself, which is apparently Jade's idea - although I'd be extremely surprised if Doc's grubby little fingers weren't all over this one, too.
Opening rifts in space is certainly Jade's department, so I think she's going to suggest it as a counter-plan to Rose's more risky Sun strategy.
TG: if we cant beat him TG: all we can really do is exile him to a place where he cant teleport back TG: which hopefully buys us some time TG: to try to take out his power source in a crazy suicide mission
A two-pronged approach, then. They trigger the Scratch, push Jack through a rift, and then send Rose's dream self out to destroy the sun before he's able to return.
...man, this is such a dangerous idea. Even if it wasn't being influenced by Doc, it'd still set off some huge alarm bells.
Like - sure, destroying the Green Sun might help this session survive, but what about every other session? Don't they need the Sun, to power their non-corrupted First Guardians? I just think we should maybe think for a second before deleting a critical piece of the reproductive mechanism for the entire multiverse.
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My Missing Piece
616!Wanda x 199999!Fem!Reader
Summary: You've lost your wife Wanda. Leaving you alone with your twin boys to try and pick up the pieces. What happens when the Scarlet Witch comes looking for her boys?
Word Count: 10.4K
Warnings: 18+ MDNI, R calls W Mommy, W uses pet names, enchanted strap use, Dom!Wanda, sub!reader, overstimulation, magic restraints, depressive thoughts/episodes.
A/N: Made this forever ago and forgot about it until like two days ago lol. I really liked the idea of this so I hope you guys enjoy~ Also I decided that world 199999 (which was the original MCU world number before MoM turned it to 616) is just a parallel world where no one died :)
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Every night after tucking my boys, Billy and Tommy in to bed, I have a bit of me time. Sometimes I watch TV, sometimes I'll scroll through social media on my phone, sometimes I'll write because I was told that was supposed to help with grief, it hasn't so far, what helps the most is when I talk to her before bed, "I miss you Wands...our boys miss you too...of course they love their Mama, but you're their Mommy. You carried them for nine months, you were in labor for just over a day." Tommy was born first 12 minutes ahead of his brother Billy. "You gave so much for our boys and our life here and I wish you had never said yes to that mission after all these years..." I break down, quiet sobs wrack me as I curl up on her side of the bed. It still smells like her.
I let sleep take me as I have the same dream I do every night. Wanda, but not Wanda...some twisted version of her with black fingers, and she just seems off, but she's searching, as if she can see me? She's looking for our boys. Every morning just as she finds me, us, I wake up. Dried tears on my cheeks and my eyes red. The bags under my eyes have never been darker, but I cover them up as I get out of bed to start yet another day without my wife.
The alarm blares through the quiet of the room, jolting me awake from my restless slumber. With a heavy sigh, I reach over to silence it, rubbing the sleep from my eyes. Another day begins, much like every other since she left us.
I stumble out of bed, the weight of grief still heavy on my shoulders as I move through the motions of the morning routine. It's a struggle to keep it together, but I have to be strong for Billy and Tommy. They need me, even though every fiber of my being aches for her presence.
As I make my way downstairs, the memories flood back, hitting me like a tidal wave. Wanda was always the light in our lives, her laughter echoing through the halls, her warmth enveloping us like a comforting embrace. But now, there's only emptiness.
I try to push the thoughts aside as I prepare breakfast for the boys, forcing a smile as they bound into the kitchen, their youthful energy a stark contrast to my own weariness. They chatter excitedly about school and friends, oblivious to the pain that lingers beneath the surface.
After they've eaten and headed off to catch the bus, I sink into the solitude of the empty house once more. It's in these quiet moments that the ache is most palpable, the absence of her presence a constant reminder of all that we've lost.
I find myself drawn to her belongings, unable to resist the pull of her memory. Running my fingers over the familiar objects, I'm transported back to happier times, when our love felt invincible, untouchable by the darkness that now threatens to consume me.
But amidst the despair, there's a flicker of something else. A determination, a resolve to keep going, if not for myself then for her. She wouldn't want me to wallow in sorrow, to let the grief consume me. She'd want me to live, to cherish the memories we shared and find solace in the love that still remains.
With a deep breath, I push myself to my feet, wiping away the tears that threaten to fall. Today may be another struggle, another battle against the pain, but I refuse to let it defeat me. For Wanda, for our boys, I'll find the strength to carry on, one day at a time.
The day went by quickly and soon enough the boys were home filling up our home with noise once more,
"Boys homework first or no ice cream!" I call from the kitchen when I hear them start to fight over player one controller.
"Awww but Mama!" They whined.
"So you boys don't want ice cream tomorrow night either I see." I hear them grumble and then the TV go off, the sound of the dining room chairs scraping as I look over my shoulder to see they're working. "There are my good boys." I turn back smiling as I carry on with prepping dinner. Suddenly something feels off. A pit in my stomach starts forming and I feel eyes on me, not the boys though these feel predatory.
I look up and through the window I don't see my own reflection, I see Wanda, the same one I see in my dreams.
My heart leaps into my throat as I freeze, the knife in my hand forgotten as I stare wide-eyed at the impossible sight before me. It's her, but it's not. The twisted version from my nightmares, black fingers reaching out like tendrils of darkness, eyes filled with a hunger I can't comprehend.
I feel a chill run down my spine as her gaze locks onto mine, a shiver of fear coursing through my veins. Instinctively, I reach for the pendant hanging around my neck, fingers brushing against the smooth surface of the purple power stone embedded within. It's a comforting weight, a reminder of the power that pulses through me, but even it feels insignificant in the face of this apparition.
"What do you want?" I manage to choke out, my voice barely above a whisper. But she doesn't answer, only continues to stare, her presence suffocating in its intensity.
Desperation claws at the edges of my mind as I struggle to make sense of the situation. Is this some kind of illusion, a trick of the mind brought on by grief and exhaustion? Or is she truly here, some twisted echo of the woman I loved?
Before I can gather my thoughts, a sudden crash from the dining room snaps me back to reality. The boys, my precious boys, oblivious to the danger that lurks just beyond our walls. With a surge of adrenaline, I lunge forward, grabbing the nearest weapon within reach.
But as I turn back to face the window, she's gone, vanished into thin air like a wisp of smoke. The only evidence of her presence is the lingering sense of unease that hangs heavy in the air.
I rush to the dining room, relief flooding through me as I find the boys unharmed, their laughter filling the room once more. But even as I hold them close, a sense of dread lingers, a silent reminder that darkness still lurks just beyond the edges of our reality.
"Mama is everything okay?" Billy asks as I hold them, kissing the top of their heads.
"I just thought one of you got hurt. I'm happy you boys aren't." I lie to them as to not worry them, but Billy looks at me trying to search my thoughts. "Hey no mind reading little man." I ruffle his hair. "Everything is fine. If you boys are finished you can play one game, dinner will be ready in 15 minutes." The minutes tick by slowly as I finish preparing dinner, the aroma of comfort food filling the air. I glance at the clock, realizing that my boys are engrossed in their game, blissfully unaware of the turmoil swirling within me.
With a heavy sigh, I take a moment to compose myself before calling them to the table. As we gather for the meal, laughter and chatter resuming, I try to push the unsettling encounter out of my mind. But deep down, I know it's not over.
As we eat, the boys share stories from their day, their infectious joy momentarily easing the ache in my heart. I force a smile, savoring these small moments of normalcy in our fractured world.
After dinner, as the boys retreat to their rooms for the night, I find myself once again standing by the window, staring into the darkness beyond. The pit in my stomach returns, the unease settling in as I feel a presence lingering just out of sight.
The room is silent, save for the hum of the refrigerator and the distant sounds of the night. I close my eyes, summoning the courage to speak the words that linger on the tip of my tongue.
"Wanda, if you're out there, if you can hear me, please... don't hide. I don't know what's happening, but I can't face it alone. I need you, now more than ever." My voice trembles with a mix of desperation and longing.
The air remains still, the response elusive. I wait in silence, hoping for some sign, some reassurance that I'm not losing my mind. But the universe remains silent, withholding its secrets.
"Gods I feel like I'm going crazy Wands...how am I supposed to do this without you?" I feel the hot tears in my eyes, streak down my cheeks then suddenly a loud bang from the living room, the sound of a portal. "Stephan? Is that you?" It wasn't uncommon for Stephan Strange to pop in and check on me and the boys. Stephan had lost his love many years ago. Before I reach the living room, I hear the familiar sound of heels clicking on my hard wood flooring. Suddenly I'm standing face to face with the Wanda I've seen in my dreams...."W-Wands?" I questioned,
"A version. I've lost something precious to me and I've come to get it back." I look her over. It's Wanda, but not mine. As I get closer, Her hair is a different shade, her eyes are a little less of an emerald green and more of a sea green, this Wanda has a scar on her forehead, just above her left eyebrow.
"Oh...what has your universe done to you Detka?" I ask softly reaching out and she grabs my wrist with a force.
"It took everything from me." She seethed. "I want my boys back. I'm taking them." She tosses me aside like I'm nothing. Luckily with the power stone embedded in my chest. I push back, barreling back into her. Tackling her to the ground until I'm on top of her and it's then that she notices my stone, "You have the power stone...how? That's impossible. I've seen it kill people that touch it.
"I'm tough that's why my Wanda loved me." I had her pinned and used my own magic to subdue her. "I've been called the Violet Witch here for years. It became my code name."
"That can't be..." I give her a questioning look. "I'm the Scarlet Witch." She tells me, the scarlet witch? Wanda never said anything...? I stumble back off of her, reeling, "The Scarlet Witch." I let out a dry chuckle, "It makes sense, but I can't let you take my boys. If I loose them then That means I've lost my Wanda and them. I might as well die." I tell her,
"Wait so your Wanda is gone?" She asks. I nod,
"She was needed for a mission. I begged her not to go, we had retired from being Avengers 10 years ago when we found out she was pregnant. She told me everything would be fine. She promised me...and then suddenly I have Strange and Parker on my doorstep with Bucky and Sam behind them carry the casket." I feel my eyes blur as I walk over to the scarlet witch, "If you are another her then," I take her hands putting them up to my temples and ease my forehead onto her, letting my memories over the past ten years flood through her mind.
As our minds intertwine, I feel a rush of memories flooding into her consciousness. The love, the loss, the moments of joy and heartache that have shaped my existence since Wanda's departure. It's a whirlwind of emotions, a bittersweet symphony of love and grief that binds us together in ways I never thought possible.
For a moment, there's a flicker of recognition in her eyes, a glimmer of understanding amidst the chaos of her own turmoil. She sees the depth of my pain, the desperation to hold onto the fragments of a life that's slipping through my fingers.
But as quickly as it came, the moment passes, and she pulls away, her expression hardening once more. "I'm sorry for your loss," she says, her voice tinged with a hint of sympathy. "But my pain is just as real. I've lost everything too, and I'll do whatever it takes to reclaim what's mine."
I feel a pang of empathy for her, a shared sense of anguish that transcends the boundaries of our separate worlds. But beneath it all, there's a primal instinct, a fierce determination to protect my boys at all costs.
"I understand your pain," I reply, my voice steady despite the turmoil raging within. "But my boys are not yours to take. They belong here, with me, with their family."
She narrows her eyes, her resolve unwavering. "Then we're at an impasse," she says, her tone final. "I won't leave without them."
I take a step forward, meeting her gaze with steely determination. "Then I guess we'll just have to see who's stronger," I say, my voice echoing with a newfound resolve.
With that, the battle lines are drawn, two versions of Wanda Maximoff facing off against each other in a clash of wills and power. But amidst the chaos and uncertainty, one thing remains clear: no matter the outcome, I'll do whatever it takes to protect my boys and honor the memory of the woman I loved.
Her eyes meet mine, a mixture of pain and longing mirrored in their depths. The tear I wiped away lingers on her cheek, a testament to the shared sorrow we both carry. The silence stretches between us, heavy with unspoken emotions, and for a moment, time seems to hang suspended.
"I... I don't know if I can stay," she whispers, her voice choked with emotion. "But the offer, it means more than you can imagine. In my world, everything has crumbled, and I'm left with nothing but ashes and echoes of what once was."
I can feel the weight of her words, the burden of her grief, and I tighten my grip on her cheek, desperate to convey the sincerity of my plea. "Wanda, you don't have to face this alone. You're not just a version of her; you're your own person, with your own pain. But here, in this universe, you have a chance to rebuild, to find a new kind of family."
She opens her eyes, the sea-green gaze locking onto mine. There's a vulnerability in her expression, a crack in the stoic facade she wears. "I'm so tired," she admits, a raw honesty in her voice. "Tired of loss, tired of fighting. Maybe... maybe it's time for a different path."
A tentative smile plays on her lips, and my heart skips a beat. I wipe away another tear, this time a tear of relief. "You don't have to decide now," I say softly. "Take the time you need. But know that here, you have people who care, people who understand loss and are willing to help you carry the burden."
The room seems to brighten, as if the weight of the universe has lifted, if only for a moment. And in that moment, I see a glimmer of hope, a possibility for healing and connection that transcends the boundaries of our fractured worlds.
"I need to know one thing." She speaks, "Is Vision alive?" my brows furrow together.
"Vision? Who is that?" I ask genuinely confused.
"Wait...how did we meet here?" She asks.
"Oh well we met in Sokovia. We were protesting Stark together at a rally. Your brother flirted with me first and I never let him live that down especially when I married you and he was my best man." I smile at the memory. "Anyways, we were approached by Hydra and experimented on. They had the mind stone and the power stone. You and Pietro were exposed to the mind stone and I was too, but nothing happened unlike you two so they put me in a room with the power stone. It decided my chest was it's forever home. I ended up breaking us out from the Hydra base with the help of the Avengers who had caught word of the base. The three of us joined the Avengers and the rest is history." I tell her.
"So no Ultron? Sokovia didn't fly in the air? What about the Sokovia accords?" She throws question after question.
"No idea what you're talking about love. We carried on doing small missions, taking down hydra and radicals, but the three of us spent a long time training before they let us out doing field work." I tell her.
"Three? Is...is Pietro..?" Her voice breaks.
"Alive? Yeah of course." She falls to her knees and starts sobbing.
"Mommy?" Billy is at the middle of the stairs and the look in Wanda's eyes.
"Yeah baby it's Mommy." Wanda opened her arms and the little speedster found his way into her arms." Her eyes spilling over tears.
"Mama said you weren't coming back." Billy whispered.
"Mama didn't think I was, but Mommy always finds a way back to her boys." Wanda pulls back and looks up at me. "I'm staying...how could I say no when this is just about the most perfect version I could ask for?" I smile and start crying again as Tommy joins us before I can even blink. "Our little quick silver." Wanda smiles hugging the boys, her boys.
Tears of relief blur my vision as I watch Wanda embrace our boys, her boys, with a tenderness that speaks volumes. Billy and Tommy cling to her, their small arms wrapping around her tightly as if afraid she'll disappear again if they let go. And in that moment, I realize that this is where she belongs, with us, her family.
I join them on the floor, wrapping my arms around them all, unable to contain the overwhelming flood of emotions that threatens to consume me. "Welcome home, Wanda," I whisper, my voice choked with tears.
She looks up at me, her eyes shining with gratitude and love. "Thank you," she says softly, her voice trembling with emotion. "For everything."
Together, we sit in the warmth of our embrace, a makeshift family forged from the ashes of our shared past. And as the night stretches on, I can't help but feel a glimmer of hope amidst the darkness, a belief that no matter what trials may come, as long as we have each other, we can weather any storm.
========================
The days blurred together in a haze of longing and uncertainty, each moment tinged with the ache of what could have been. Wanda's presence in our home was both a blessing and a curse, a constant reminder of the love I had lost and the impossibility of reclaiming what was once mine.
I watched her interact with the boys, her smile forced but genuine, her laughter a melody that echoed through the halls. And yet, beneath the surface, I could sense the weight of her own grief, the burden of a past that refused to let her go.
I tried to be strong, to be there for her and the boys, but every smile felt like a lie, every laugh a hollow echo of the joy we once shared. And in the darkness of the night, when sleep eluded me and the silence pressed in like a vice, I found myself haunted by memories of another Wanda, a version of her that existed only in my dreams.
She was so close, yet so far away, a phantom presence that taunted me with what could have been. I longed to reach out to her, to hold her close and whisper words of love and comfort. But she was gone, lost to me in a reality that no longer existed.
And so I forced myself out of bed each morning, steeling myself against the pain that threatened to consume me. I buried myself in the routines of daily life, seeking solace in the mundane tasks that kept me tethered to reality.
But no matter how hard I tried to push her memory away, she lingered in the shadows of my mind, a ghostly specter that refused to be forgotten. And as the days turned into weeks, I began to wonder if I would ever find peace, if I would ever be able to let go of the love that still bound me to her, even across the vast expanse of the multiverse.
My Wanda and I had always had a policy of no mind reading since we could both do it, but this Wanda pokes at my thoughts constantly. Reminds me to smile through telepathy. One morning after a really good dream with another Wanda I can't get myself out of bed. Everything is too much. I know I had told her I'd be fine, but I'm not.
"Come on Y/N. Time to get up." I turn away from her, curling up into a ball further. "Y/N? What's wrong?" She asks.
"Nothing just tired. Just tell the boys I don't feel good. I need a Mama's day. So they can have a Mommy day. Take them out, get them ice cream. Do whatever you want." I grumble.
"Okay..." I close my eyes, letting myself drift back off just needed to see her again.
I don't know how much time has past when I'm being woken up, "Detka...come on wake up." My eyes blink into focus as I look at Wanda sitting above me and smile, forgetting my reality for a moment before my smile drops.
"What?" I ask.
"I dropped the boys off with their uncle for the weekend." I sit up straight,
"You did what!?" I screech.
"I left them with Pietro for the weekend. He was more than happy to have a boys weekend. Something about taking them to the lake?" Wanda mentions.
"He takes them every summer, usually it's a family thing and we all go." I tell Wanda.
"Well I figured you needed a Mommy and me weekend. I want to take you out. I want to get to know you. I already know my boys, but you. You're different, new, you aren't like Vision. You're human." She cups my cheek, smiling and I know it's a genuine smile. "I'm sure you've been feeling neglected and I wanted to try and do this sooner, but the boys were too excited to have me back." She says as I lean into her touch, Gods how I missed her touch. Though her fingers were no longer black her nails seemed to permanently stay black which made me laugh as I compared it to her emo phase which apparently this Wanda had one too.
"Thank you," I whisper, my voice catching in my throat. "For understanding."
She smiles, a warmth in her eyes that belies the weight of her own pain. "We're in this together. You don't have to carry the burden alone."
With her words echoing in my mind, I find the strength to push myself out of bed, to face the day with renewed determination. Wanda's offer of a Mommy and me weekend is a lifeline, a chance to rediscover myself amidst the chaos of grief and longing.
As we spend the day together, exploring the city and sharing stories of our pasts, I feel a sense of peace settle over me, a reassurance that maybe, just maybe, there's still hope for a future filled with love and laughter.
And as the sun sets on our day together, I realize that while Wanda may not be my Wanda, she's still a beacon of light in the darkness, a reminder that even in our darkest moments, there's always someone willing to stand by our side, to offer a hand to hold and a shoulder to lean on.
With her by my side, I know that no matter what the future may hold, I'll never have to face it alone. And as we head home, the weight of grief feels a little lighter, the shadows a little less daunting, as we embrace the possibility of a new beginning, together.
When we got back home, I pulled her to the couch, "Time to watch sitcoms." I tell her and her face lights up.
"Dick Van Dyke?" She asks.
"No Detka. I want to show you my favorite this time. It's a more modern one. It's an animated sitcom though is that okay?" I ask, realizing this Wanda maybe never experienced animated and only enjoyed live action ones.
"Of course dorogoya." Her accent popping out sent a wave through me that landed between my legs.
"O-okay good." I say and get 'Bob's Burgers' playing. As the show starts I settle in with a slight distance between us, but she pulls me in against her side.
"Is this okay dorogoya?" She asks looking down at me.
"Y-yeah...of course." I move slight, readjusting to get comfortable as we fit together like two missing puzzle pieces and I let out a sigh of relief, that feels like so much weight is taken off my shoulders.
As the episodes of "Bob's Burgers" played on, I found myself relaxing into Wanda's embrace, the tension that had been coiled tight within me slowly unraveling with each passing moment. Her warmth seeped into my bones, a comforting presence that chased away the lingering shadows of doubt and fear.
With her by my side, the laughter that bubbled up from the screen felt genuine, a reflection of the newfound camaraderie we shared. And as I stole glances at her profile, illuminated by the soft glow of the television, I couldn't help but marvel at the beauty of the moment, the simplicity of just being together.
Her laughter mingled with mine, the sound music to my ears, a symphony of joy that filled the room with warmth and light. And as the credits rolled on the final episode, I turned to her, a smile playing at the corners of my lips.
"Thank you," I said softly, my voice barely above a whisper. "For today. For everything."
She returned my smile, her eyes shimmering with affection. "Anytime. I'm here for you, always."
I sat there staring at her, getting lost in her eyes so much that I don't even realize that she's leaning in until she's inches from my lips, she stops and I can feel her breath on me, my own hitching,
"Is this okay dorogoya?" She whispers in a husk against my lips.
"Y-yes." I manage out as she kisses me softly at first, testing the waters, but soon enough she's kissing hungrily, like she's starving for my taste now that's she's had a nibble. My fingers find their way into her hair, getting tangled in her auburn locks. One of her hands is on the back of my neck and the other is on my hip, gripping tightly, I can feel her nails digging in.
The world falls away as our lips meet in a fiery embrace, a collision of passion and longing that ignites every nerve ending in my body. Her kiss is intoxicating, a whirlwind of desire and need that sweeps me away in a tide of sensation.
I lose myself in the taste of her, the feel of her lips moving against mine with a hunger that mirrors my own. Our breath mingles in the space between us, hot and heavy with unspoken desire, as the intensity of our embrace grows with each passing moment.
Her hands are everywhere at once, trailing fire along my skin as she pulls me closer, her touch igniting a wildfire of sensation within me. I cling to her desperately, losing myself in the dizzying whirl of pleasure that consumes us both.
Time loses all meaning as we surrender to the passion that binds us together, lost in a world of our own making where nothing else matters but the fiery connection that burns between us.
And as we finally break apart, breathless and trembling, I find myself drowning in the depths of her gaze, a silent promise of more to come lingering in the air between us.
In that moment, I know that this is just the beginning of our journey together, a journey filled with love, passion, and endless possibility. And as we cling to each other in the aftermath of our shared passion, I can't help but feel a sense of gratitude for the unexpected twist of fate that brought us together.
User
"Bed. Now." Her eyes lit up red for a moment. My Wanda had never been dominate, but this Wanda before me exuded dominance. I didn't waste any time getting up the stairs with her hot on my tail as we crashed into the bedroom, stumbling to the bed in a heat of kisses as she took the leading role.
The air crackled with electricity as we stumbled into the bedroom, our lips locked in a frenzy of passion and desire. Wanda's presence was intoxicating, her aura radiating power and dominance in a way I had never experienced before. And as she took the lead, pushing me onto the bed with a hunger that sent shivers down my spine, I felt myself surrendering to the raw intensity of the moment.
Her kisses were demanding, igniting a fire within me that burned hotter with each passing second. I moaned against her lips, my fingers tangling in her hair as I lost myself in the heat of the moment. Her touch was electric, sending shockwaves of pleasure coursing through my body as she explored every inch of my skin with a hunger that left me breathless.
With each caress, each whispered word of desire, I felt myself falling deeper under her spell, my body responding eagerly to her every touch. And as she claimed me as her own, I surrendered to the overwhelming tide of sensation, losing myself in the ecstasy of our shared passion.
In that moment, there was only her, only us, lost in a world of pleasure and desire where nothing else mattered but the intoxicating connection that bound us together. And as we moved as one, bodies entwined in a symphony of passion, I knew that this was just the beginning of our journey together, a journey filled with love, lust, and endless possibility.
The sensation of relinquishing control, of surrendering completely to someone else's will, was both exhilarating and liberating. As I basked in the warmth of Wanda's dominance, I found myself embracing a side of myself that I had long suppressed, a side that craved the thrill of submission and surrender.
With each touch, each whispered command, I felt myself sinking deeper into the abyss of pleasure, my mind consumed by a haze of ecstasy that left me breathless and yearning for more. And as Wanda took the lead, guiding me with a firm yet gentle hand, I found myself surrendering to the overwhelming tide of sensation, losing myself in the intoxicating dance of pleasure and desire.
In her arms, I felt safe, cherished, and utterly alive, my body responding eagerly to her every touch and caress. And as we moved together in a symphony of passion and desire, I embraced the freedom that came with letting go, allowing myself to be swept away by the currents of our shared passion.
For in that moment, there was only her, only us, lost in a world of blissful surrender where nothing else mattered but the exquisite pleasure of our connection. And as we surrendered to the ecstasy of our shared desire, I knew that this was just the beginning of our journey together, a journey filled with exploration, discovery, and boundless pleasure.
"Ah...Wands..." A smack hit my thigh making me jolt and yelp.
"That's not my name Detka." I feel my stomach flip. I call her this all the time. I have for years now, but never in this setting. Another smack and then her teeth find my skin, biting and sucking harshly, marking me.
"Mommy!" I can feel the smirk against my thigh.
"Good girl. Go on. Show me how needy you are baby girl." Her fingers find themselves between my folds as I move my hips against them.
The sensation of her touch sent shivers of pleasure coursing through me, igniting a fire that burned hotter with each passing moment. I arched my back, pressing against her fingers as they explored the depths of my desire, teasing and tantalizing with a skill that left me trembling with need.
"Please," I whimpered, the word spilling from my lips in a desperate plea for more. Her touch was electric, sending shockwaves of pleasure coursing through my body as she pushed me to the brink of ecstasy.
With each caress, each stroke, I felt myself teetering on the edge of oblivion, my senses overwhelmed by the intensity of our shared passion. And as she whispered words of encouragement, urging me to let go and surrender to the pleasure that awaited, I felt myself surrendering completely to the overwhelming tide of sensation.
In that moment, there was only her, only us, lost in a world of blissful abandon where nothing else mattered but the exquisite pleasure of our connection. And as I succumbed to the ecstasy of our shared desire, I knew that this was just the beginning of our journey together, a journey filled with passion, intensity, and boundless pleasure.
The sensation of Wanda's magic enveloping my wrists sent a thrill of anticipation coursing through me, a tangible reminder of her power and dominance. I tested the restraints, feeling the firm hold of her magic as it kept me securely in place, my heart pounding with a mixture of excitement and arousal.
"Safe word. Green, yellow, red. Green is keep going, yellow slow down, red is stop." Wanda husked.
"Green, yellow, red," I echoed, committing the safe words to memory as a reassurance of our mutual trust and consent. With each breath, each whispered command, I felt myself sinking deeper into the heady haze of pleasure, surrendering completely to the overwhelming tide of sensation.
As Wanda continued to explore my body with a skillful touch that left me trembling with need, I surrendered myself to the ecstasy of our shared desire, knowing that in her arms, I was safe, cherished, and utterly alive.
And as the intensity of our passion grew with each passing moment, I found myself teetering on the edge of oblivion, my senses overwhelmed by the sheer intensity of our connection. In that moment, there was only her, only us, lost in a world of blissful abandon where nothing else mattered but the exquisite pleasure of our shared desire.
I don't think there is a place she hasn't marked on me in some way and after hours of edging until I couldn't form sentences she finally let me release. A string of moans ripping through me as the most intense waves roll over me as I drown in them, covered in sweat and her marks.
As the waves of pleasure washed over me, leaving me trembling and spent, I basked in the afterglow of our shared passion, my body still tingling with the echoes of our ecstasy. But just when I thought the intensity had peaked, I felt something pressing against my entrance, a sensation that sent a jolt of anticipation coursing through me.
I gasped, my body instinctively tensing as Wanda's touch ignited a new wave of desire within me. Her fingers teased and tantalized, exploring the depths of my desire with a skill that left me breathless and eager for more.
With each gentle thrust, I felt myself opening up to her, surrendering completely to the overwhelming tide of sensation. The pleasure was exquisite, a symphony of ecstasy that echoed through every fiber of my being as I lost myself in the blissful abandon of our shared desire.
And as Wanda continued to guide me with a firm yet gentle hand, I surrendered myself to the pleasure of our connection, knowing that in her arms, I was safe, cherished, and utterly alive. In that moment, there was only her, only us, lost in a world of blissful abandon where nothing else mattered but the exquisite pleasure of our shared desire.
Wanda soon enough needed more and so did I, "Faster...ha-ah...harder..." My breath hot against her, panting like a dog and that gave her the perfect opportunity to place her fingers in my mouth, gaging me with them, but I loved every second as I sucked on them, moaning against them as I tasted myself on them from earlier.
The sensation of Wanda's fingers in my mouth sent a thrill of arousal coursing through me, a heady mixture of pleasure and desire that left me panting and eager for more. With each thrust, each gasp of pleasure, I eagerly sucked on her fingers, tasting myself on them from earlier.
The taste was intoxicating, a symphony of desire that heightened the intensity of our connection as we moved together in perfect harmony. And as Wanda responded to my pleas with a fervor that mirrored my own, I surrendered myself to the pleasure of our shared desire, knowing that in her arms, I was safe, cherished, and utterly alive.
With each thrust, I felt myself teetering on the edge of oblivion, my senses overwhelmed by the sheer intensity of our passion. And as we reached the peak of ecstasy together, I knew that this was just the beginning of our journey, a journey filled with passion, intensity, and boundless pleasure.
In that moment, there was only her, only us, lost in a world of blissful abandon where nothing else mattered but the exquisite pleasure of our shared desire. And as we surrendered ourselves to the ecstasy of our connection, I knew that this was just the beginning of our journey together, a journey filled with love, lust, and endless possibility.
As I slowly regained my senses, the cool towel on the back of my neck and Wanda's comforting presence helped anchor me in reality. Her magic gently caressed my mind, offering reassurance and care as I took in the aftermath of our intense encounter.
"Easy, Detka. You're okay," she murmured, and I found solace in the warmth of her embrace. I took the offered water bottle, sipping slowly as she continued to tend to my well-being. The realization that I had passed out from pleasure left me both surprised and amused.
"Never happened before," I admitted with a chuckle. "The other Wanda was more of a sub, so I was usually the one in control. Not that I didn't enjoy it, but being on the receiving end is a whole different experience."
Wanda's magic fetched a baggy shirt, and as I recognized it, a wave of nostalgia washed over me. It was a shirt from a concert we attended when we were sixteen, a tangible link to our shared past.
"It's good to know not everything is different," I remarked, smiling as she kissed my temple.
In the warmth of our makeshift cocoon, surrounded by blankets and pillows, Wanda's magic weaving a protective barrier around us, we continued to watch 'Bob's Burgers.' However, my focus was no longer on the show; instead, I found myself captivated by the woman holding me close.
A sudden wave of fear and doubt crashed over me as I wondered if this intimate encounter was just a one-time gesture to alleviate my grief. The fear of being tossed aside after a momentary respite haunted my thoughts, threatening to overshadow the joy we had just shared.
Wanda, sensing my internal struggle, gently addressed my concerns. "Hey, woah, Detka. Those thoughts of yours are the farthest thing from the truth. Do not listen to them. I would never do that to my soulmate," she reassured me, her forehead finding mine in a tender gesture of connection.
"I love you, Y/N," she confessed, her words washing away my fears and opening the floodgates to a cascade of happy tears. "I love you, Wands! I didn't think I'd ever get to hear you say those words to me again," I admitted, clinging to her shirt as I sobbed into her.
Wanda's promises echoed in my heart, a vow to cherish and reaffirm our love every day. She kissed away my tears, each tender touch a testament to the depth of her commitment. "I promise I'm going to say it every chance I get. I'm never going to stop. I'm going to remind you every day how beautiful you are and how much I love you, and I promise I'm never going to leave. No missions. Nothing like that. I'll always be by your side," she declared, her own tears mingling with mine.
In that moment, as we drowned in each other's love, I knew that this second chance at happiness was a gift we would both cherish. And as Wanda whispered, "I love you," over and over, I felt the weight of my grief lifting, replaced by the warmth of a love that transcended time and space.
========
In the midst of my peaceful dream, I found myself enveloped in a sense of tranquility unlike any I had experienced in well over a year. Waking up with a smile on my face I turn my head, looking over I gazed upon the sleeping form of Wanda, her features softened by the gentle embrace of slumber, I felt a rush of overwhelming love and affection welling up within me.
With a playful smile tugging at the corners of my lips, I leaned in closer, pressing gentle kisses along the curve of her neck. Each tender touch elicited a soft moan from her lips, a melody of pleasure that echoed through the stillness of the night.
Lost in the intoxicating embrace of our shared intimacy, I continued to shower her with affection, reveling in the warmth of her presence and the depth of our connection. And as I whispered her name, a soft murmur of adoration, I knew that this moment, this fleeting glimpse of happiness, was a treasure to be cherished for all eternity.
As Wanda began to stir awake, her voice still heavy with sleep, I couldn't help but feel a surge of affection for her. Her words, though tinged with a hint of warning, only served to deepen the bond between us.
"You're playing a dangerous game, kotenok," she murmured, her voice laced with sleepiness.
"Shchenok," I corrected gently, a small smile playing on my lips.
Her eyes snapped open at the correction, surprise evident in her expression. "When did you learn that?" she asked, her curiosity piqued.
I shrugged, the memories of our shared past flooding back to me. "I was with her for like 20 years of our lives. I learned most Russian. Also Natasha, she..." My voice trailed off as Wanda's expression shifted, a wave of sadness washing over her.
"Oh my god, I forgot about Natasha. Is... is she alive here?" she asked, tears welling up in her eyes.
I nodded solemnly, feeling a pang of empathy for the pain she must be feeling. Crawling into her lap, I wrapped my arms around her, offering what comfort I could. "You really lost a lot there, dorogoya," I whispered, my voice soft with compassion. "But don't worry, everyone here is safe. We've apparently had it relatively easy here, it seems."
I pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead, my heart overflowing with love and gratitude for this woman who had endured so much. "Now you have your loved ones back. You aren't alone anymore, and you won't ever be again. I promise."
==============
As the weekend unfolded, Wanda and I remained entwined in each other's arms, our connection deepening with each passing moment. When the boys returned home with their uncle Pietro, the atmosphere was filled with warmth and affection, a tangible sense of family that enveloped us all.
Pietro's hug was tight, filled with an unspoken understanding that transcended words. In his whispered question, "Did you guys finally connect?" I detected a mixture of curiosity and genuine concern.
With a small nod and a soft "Mmhmm," I confirmed what he already knew. This Wanda wasn't his real sister, just as she wasn't the Wanda I had known and loved for decades. But she was here, she was special, and in her embrace, I found a sense of solace and belonging that I had thought lost forever.
==============
As the following Friday arrived, Wanda and I made the decision to gather our friends and family together to share the details of our new lives. It was a momentous occasion, filled with a mix of anticipation and apprehension as we prepared to unveil the truth about our extraordinary circumstances.
Gathering our loved ones in a familiar setting, we began to recount the events that had led us to this moment, explaining the complexities of our intertwined destinies and the newfound connections we had forged. With each word, we sought to convey the depth of our emotions, the challenges we had overcome, and the hope that now burned bright within our hearts.
As our gathering unfolded, the emotions in the room were palpable, each hug and embrace a testament to the depth of our shared experiences and the bonds that bound us together.
Wanda's first instinct was to embrace Natasha tightly, their bodies trembling with sobs as they clung to each other. For both of them, it was a moment of overwhelming relief and joy, the realization that they had been given a second chance to be reunited with someone they had feared lost forever.
Next was Clint, the stalwart friend and ally who had saved Wanda countless times in her timeline, offering comfort and support when she needed it most. As they embraced, the weight of their shared history hung heavy in the air, a reminder of the trials they had faced and the strength they had found in each other's presence.
In that moment, surrounded by friends and family who had become like kin, Wanda and I felt a profound sense of gratitude for the bonds that had been forged through adversity. And as we shared stories and memories, laughter mingling with tears, we knew that no matter what challenges lay ahead, we would face them together, drawing strength from the love and support that surrounded us.
As our friends and family listened intently, their expressions shifting from surprise to understanding, we felt a sense of relief wash over us. To have our loved ones by our side, supporting us through this journey, was a gift beyond measure.
And as we concluded our explanation, surrounded by the warmth and love of those closest to us, we knew that no matter what the future held, we would face it together, united in our shared bond and unwavering commitment to one another.
As the night wore on and the festivities continued, Stephen pulled me aside, his expression grave with concern. "You know what she's done in her universe, right?" he asked, his voice tinged with urgency.
I bristled at his question, feeling a surge of defensiveness rise within me. "Do not start this, Strange," I warned, jabbing a finger in his direction. "If I had gone through what she had, this universe wouldn't even exist. What she did, in my eyes, is child's play compared to the horrors she endured."
My words carried a weight of conviction, a steadfast belief in Wanda's resilience and the sacrifices she had made to protect those she loved. And as I met Stephen's gaze, I saw a flicker of understanding in his eyes, a silent acknowledgment of the depth of Wanda's strength and the magnitude of her courage.
"She threw a tantrum essentially. Took over a town for a bit and then went on a killing spree to get here. I saw it through her eyes. I know if it had been me, you'd be lucky if America had still been standing," I asserted, a hint of steel in my voice as I tapped the power stone embedded in my chest.
The reminder of the immense power at my disposal served as both a warning and a declaration. Wanda's actions in her universe were a testament to the depths of her grief and the consequences of unchecked power. In contrast, I recognized the responsibility that came with wielding such force, a responsibility I vowed to use wisely to protect those I loved.
As the weight of our conversation lingered, Stephen nodded in acknowledgment, a silent understanding passing between us. The night continued, but the specter of the past and the potential for the future hung in the air, a reminder that even in moments of celebration, the shadows of our pasts were never truly far behind.
"I don't think you understand, my strength isn't superhuman, it's otherworldly. The precision it requires to ensure I don't break everything around me at any given moment is a delicate balance. With one punch, I wouldn't just put a crater in the earth, I'd break it in half," I emphasized, underscoring the magnitude of the power I possessed.
The distinction between superhuman strength and the cosmic force I wielded was crucial to grasp. While others might possess extraordinary abilities, mine was on a different scale altogether, capable of reshaping the very fabric of reality itself. It was a responsibility that weighed heavily on me, requiring a level of control and restraint beyond what most could comprehend.
As I spoke, I could sense the gravity of my words sinking in, the realization dawning on Stephen of the immense power at my command. It was a sobering reminder of the delicate balance between strength and responsibility, a balance that I vowed to uphold no matter the cost.
"I'm sorry, Y/N, I just wanted to remind you-" Stephen began, but I swiftly cut him off, my tone firm yet understanding. "Don't, Stephen. I know you're just trying to help. I don't need the reminder though," I assured him, acknowledging his concern while asserting my own understanding of the situation.
With a nod of acceptance, Stephen backed off, respecting my boundaries and allowing me to return to the comforting embrace of Wanda, who had been engaged in conversation with Natasha and Clint. As I settled back into her arms, the warmth of her presence enveloped me, a reassuring reminder of the love and support that surrounded me.
In that moment, surrounded by friends and family, I felt a sense of peace wash over me, a quiet reassurance that no matter the challenges we faced, we would face them together, united in our shared bonds and unwavering commitment to one another.
As Wanda continued her conversation with Natasha and Clint, her fingers traced delicate patterns on my hip, their touch a gentle caress that spoke volumes of the journey she had undertaken. Once stained with blood, those same hands now exuded a tenderness and compassion that belied the darkness of the past.
Feeling the soothing rhythm of her touch, I couldn't help but marvel at the transformation Wanda had undergone, the evolution from a place of pain and turmoil to one of healing and redemption. It was a testament to her resilience and strength, a reminder that even in the face of adversity, it was possible to find light amidst the shadows.
In that moment, as her touch danced across my skin, I felt a profound sense of gratitude for the woman before me, for the love and forgiveness she had extended, and for the hope that now blossomed within our hearts. And as our conversation continued, I knew that no matter what trials lay ahead, we would face them together, bound by the unbreakable bond of love and understanding that had brought us to this moment.
As the room suddenly filled with the energetic presence of our children, along with Clint's youngest and Kate close behind, my boys bounded into mine and Wanda's arms with cries for help. "Moms! Save us from the monster!" they pleaded, their laughter filling the air.
I chuckled as I gathered them close, feeling their warmth and energy envelop me in a comforting embrace. Glancing over, I caught sight of Kate playfully tickling Nathaniel, the mischievous grin on her face confirming my suspicions.
With a smile, I joined Wanda in rescuing our boys from the clutches of the imaginary monster, enveloping them in hugs and laughter as we reveled in the joy of family and friendship. In that moment, surrounded by the ones we loved most, I couldn't help but feel an overwhelming sense of gratitude for the blessings that filled our lives, each smile and laugh a reminder of the happiness that awaited us in the days to come.
As the boys began to drift off to sleep in my arms, I couldn't help but smile at the sight. "I think it's time to go, my love," I murmured to Wanda, gesturing towards our sleeping sons. Despite their ten years, I scooped them up effortlessly, their weight feeling light in my arms.
A momentary look of surprise flickered across Wanda's face, her gaze lingering on me as she seemed to momentarily forget about my strength. At just 4'11, I was indeed petite for someone with such power, a fact that often caught others off guard.
With a soft chuckle, I gently adjusted the boys in my arms, their peaceful expressions a testament to the love and security they felt in our embrace. As we prepared to leave, I felt a surge of gratitude for the family we had become, bound together by love and the unbreakable bond of kinship. With Wanda by my side, I knew that no matter what challenges lay ahead, we would face them together, united in our shared love and determination to protect those we held dear.
As I glanced over at Wanda, watching the tender expression on her face as she looked upon our sleeping sons, my heart swelled with love and gratitude. The depth of emotion reflected in her eyes filled me with a sense of warmth and contentment, knowing that our family was complete and our bond unbreakable.
In that moment, as we stood together, surrounded by the quiet stillness of the night, I felt a profound sense of peace wash over me. The love that radiated between us and enveloped our children was a testament to the strength of our connection, a bond forged in the fires of adversity and tempered by the trials we had faced together.
As we prepared to depart, I reached out to take Wanda's hand, intertwining our fingers in a silent gesture of unity and love. With a shared smile, we turned and made our way home, our hearts full and our spirits lifted by the knowledge that no matter what challenges lay ahead, we would face them together, as a family.
===========
Wanda and I are on the couch when she asks, "Do you have photo albums of the boys?" I look at her, peeling my eyes from the TV as I pause it.
"Of course." I get up grabbing several albums of almost everything of their lives. "After we left the Avengers I took solace in capturing moments so we have a lot." I tell her as she starts through her pregnancy photos one of every month. Then the hospital photos of her giving birth. The look of pure happiness and bliss on both our faces as we held the boys. Both of us having skin to skin contact with them. As Wanda goes through the albums she starts crying.
"I missed out on so much because of my magic..." she whispered solemnly. "They went from babies, to 5, to 10 all because of words I said...Y/N...I missed everything." Knowing that Wanda had used her magic to create our boys in her universe and not anything like how we had here made her incredibly sad. I hate seeing her like this.
"How about I show you. Their first words, their first steps, everything." With a gentle touch, I leaned in closer to her, resting my forehead against hers as I offered her a silent gesture of comfort and solidarity. Feeling her fingers against my temples, I closed my eyes and allowed the memories to flow, every precious moment from the joyous announcement of her pregnancy to the bittersweet final days we shared together playing out before her.
As the memories unfolded like a vivid tapestry, I watched as Wanda's tears began to subside, replaced by a sense of wonder and awe. Through the magic of our shared recollections, she was able to witness the milestones she had missed, the laughter and love that had filled our home in her absence.
In that moment, as we shared in the memories of our past, I felt a renewed sense of hope blossom within me. Though Wanda may have missed out on so much, I was determined to make every moment from this point forward count, to cherish the time we had together and to create new memories that would fill the void left by the past.
With a gentle smile, I wrapped my arms around her, holding her close as we basked in the warmth of our shared love. And as the echoes of our memories faded into the night, I knew that no matter what trials lay ahead, we would face them together, united in our unwavering commitment to one another and to our family.
As I looked into Wanda's eyes, feeling the weight of her sadness and longing, I knew that I had to do everything in my power to ease her pain and make up for the lost time. With a gentle touch, I cupped her cheek in my hand, my thumb brushing away the tears that lingered there.
"Everything with them feels too quick and also a lifetime," I whispered softly, my heart swelling with love and determination. "But now that you're here with us, you'll get to experience it all with me. Together."
In that moment, as we shared in our shared resolve to embrace the present and forge ahead as a family, I felt a sense of peace wash over me. No matter what challenges lay ahead, we would face them together, united in our love and commitment to one another.
With a tender smile, I leaned in to press a gentle kiss against Wanda's forehead, silently promising to cherish every moment we shared and to make up for the lost time in any way I could. Together, we would build a future filled with love, laughter, and endless memories, united in our bond as a family.
Once we put the albums away, shut the TV off for the night we headed upstairs. Stopping to look in at the boys sleeping peacefully before heading to our own room, getting ourselves ready for bed. As I climb in, stretching out, Wanda climbs on top of me. I bite my bottom lip, looking up at her. I can see the look she has. I wrap my arms around her neck, gently trying to pull her down. She doesn't budge.
"Did you want something, shchenok?" Between the look in her eyes, the sound of her voice, and her in just a tank top of sleep shorts I'm weak to her completely under her not just physically.
"Want you. Need you." I tell her trying again to pull and when she still doesn't budge. I pout and whine. "Wands...please.."
As Wanda's hands worked their magic, binding mine above my head with a delicate yet firm touch, I felt a rush of excitement and anticipation coursing through me. With each tug of her magic, I was rendered powerless, completely at her mercy as she explored my body with a hunger that ignited a fire within me.
"Behave and we'll see where it goes," she husked, her words sending shivers down my spine as she pushed up my shirt, her lips finding purchase on my chest with an intensity that left me breathless. The sensation of her teeth grazing my skin, her tongue tracing patterns across my flesh, sent waves of pleasure radiating through me, making me squirm and writhe beneath her touch.
As I felt myself slipping deeper into subspace, surrendering to the heady mix of pleasure and vulnerability, I couldn't help but lose myself in the moment, giving in completely to the sensations that engulfed me. With each kiss, each caress, I felt myself unraveling, consumed by the overwhelming desire that burned between us.
In that moment, as I surrendered myself to Wanda's tender ministrations, I felt a profound sense of connection and intimacy that transcended the physical realm. With her by my side, I knew that I was safe, cherished, and loved beyond measure, and as I surrendered to the ecstasy of the moment, I knew that our bond would only grow stronger with each passing day.
Wanda plays with me and teases me for hours and I can't even remember how many times she's pushed me over the edge of ecstasy. As she brought me to another one as she slammed into me with a magic strap-on she'd conjured up, my mind already drowning in subspace, barely able to form words, but one slips out and then a few more,
"Mommy...gonna...ah-ha...ah..." After my words she sped up leaning down to whisper in my ear,
"That's right cum for Mommy like a good girl. Mommy's gonna cum with you. Gonna fill you up and breed you baby girl." As she whispered those final words in my ear, her voice a husky growl of lust and desire, I felt myself shattering into a million pieces, my entire being consumed by the ecstasy of release. With a cry of pure ecstasy, I let myself fall over the edge, my body trembling with the force of my climax as I surrendered myself entirely to the pleasure that engulfed me. Feeling her fill me up completely made my eyes roll back and the only word I could comprehend was, “Mommy.”
In that moment, as I basked in the afterglow of our shared ecstasy, I knew that I was exactly where I belonged, wrapped in the arms of the woman I loved more than anything in the world.
Taglist: @dorabledewdroop
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jwnstars · 1 day
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. ✉️ ་ ˖ ʿ ִֶָon melancholy hill. 花朵
想象 life as cupid couldn’t be more underwhelming and boring, because, even if you are a matchmaker, (or THE matchmaker) you can’t bring anyone to love you. but then jake is ready to love you for eternity.. 想象 reader thinks she’s a tad bit ugly. however, jake changes that. ( jake is obsessed with reader lolz! )
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You were always the odd one out.
You never went out, you never hung out with your friends, you never goofed around at night. you never had time for anything!
People thought you just hated socializing, or maybe you didn’t like other people in general, they assumed you just liked being alone…
or you were just some loner who couldn’t gain a single friend so she copes by not hanging out with anyone.
And that was way off. In fact, you loved living. But were you someone who had time to live? No. You weren’t.
Because you were the one and only Roman God of love, lonely hearts expert, Cherub, you were CUPID. you put people together and made them fall in love, you were the reason people believe and didn’t believe in love.
maybe their relationship didn’t work out, but maybe it did. but your being on earth was why people could be with someone else, love someone destined to them.
But that’s what made you feel pathetic, you put two people together for them to have a soulmate for life, but whose arms could you creep into so you can cry and weep in their warm embrace? no one. because it was apart of the contract,
‘No use of corruption over your love bow. If you break this rule, you are erased from the face of EARTH, or, someone else can take the blame and receive the punishment instead.’ Fuck. It’s that serious? that was your exact thought, you have to live a life without a someone? a partner?
School was worse. Boys didn’t like you, girls thought you were a loser. Life when you didn’t have that love bow was a different type of sadness.
So you found yourself in the janitors room. Curled into a ball with your knees to your face, a flood of tears when down on her cheeks like there was no tomorrow. She felt so alone, so helpless. Hiccups and sniffles filled the room; she didn’t give a single care in the world if she was late.
She thought to herself, she was just ugly. It wasn’t because of the contract, instead, it was because no one was actually attracted to her. It made her violently sob like a baby, she just wanted someone’s arm around her soul, someone who can hold her until she felt safe.
“Hello? Excuse me pretty miss.. are you okay?”
You opened your salty eyes and met eyes with a guy whose australian accent was so strong and raspy, almost as attractive as how the guy was already. However, you realized, pretty miss?
“oh I’m fine.. I’m sorry, I’m gonna be late to class.” she tried getting up from her position, but it seemed like the guy didn’t want her to go. “it’s dismissal, you don’t need to hide your beautiful face,”
“You know me but, it’s Jake. Sim Jaehyun. I noticed you were crying, I wanted to see if you were okay. Are you okay? If no one asked you yet.” She felt embarrassed, “Thank you, Jake. But I need to go, I’m sorry, please don’t waste your time on me—”
“I didn’t want to tell you but, I’m not wasting time on you. It feels like I’m wasting time if I’m just gonna stand there so oblivious, I’m sorry. but you’re gorgeous, I love the way you look..
…I was your classmate since grade 6 but you just never noticed me because whenever I talked to you, you thought I was a mere joke.”
“I’m not gorgeous, Jake, and I always avoided you because I thought it was always the popular girls playing tricks on me.”
“God! You take my breath away! If you’re not gorgeous, Hell; you’re perfect!” Jake cried out, trying to bring her to realization. “You’re so sweet and kind, I don’t know why no one wants to approach you! That’s why I fell inlove with you!”
Jake, held her face so gently and she felt his warm hands on her own bones. “I might not be cupid, but I think someone as pretty as you.. would be a perfect match with someone who adores you so much. And that’s me.”
“but Jake. I’m cupid. And if I date you, I’ll be gone forever. Unless; you will be gone forever.”
“So what? If I feel your arms around me once I would be alright with not existing anymore, I just want to be yours.”
Yeah, jake wasn’t cupid. But she was, and when jake knew what were the consequences, he was seriously ready to take the blame. He would be ready to be erased off the face of earth if that meant he could be interlinked with her.
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@ jwnstars !! cupid is here :^
OK. I hope that touched you guys like it did to me, this was so sentimental and precious to me. (Sorry. I just love this) the last part was my fav part writing because OMLLL ??? Jake would literally give up his life for his gf / s/o so that they could live theirs, so fricking cute !!! :’)))
He would give up his everything to be with them forever. Fuck. I might cry. ( @all4aoki witnessed me making this :3 )
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intotherumiverse · 3 days
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★ ૮₍ ≧ . ≦ ₎ა 𝐎𝐧𝐞 𝐏𝐢𝐞𝐜𝐞 𝐔𝐧𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐢𝐭𝐲 !!
ღ. synopsis ; one peice characters and the majors and trades they're in !
ღ. featuring ; luffy m. ; zoro r. ; sanji v. ; ussop ; robin ; nami ; chopper ; brook + bonus !
ღ. cw ; weed mention, cursing, shitposting
ღ. notes ; i haven't written in so long I forgot how to so this.... bare w me on this one !
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luffy
luffy is an international relation major
all the professors love him and its defintely the only reason he's passing his classes
he has not one clue what going on (most of the time), head empty
also has really good finals grades
like its so surprising to see him pass with a low b high c average
he's really likeable, everyone and they momma wants to hang out with him
usally hanging out with sanji (bc he cooks) or zoro (caus he thinks he's cool)
he tutors with nami and robin sometimes (they're the only ones that can deal with him on the regular)
he's so silly and goofy i love him your honor
zoro
bussniess major but is never doing what he needs to do
classes? not in them. Homework? What's that? he is no where to be found and that should scare you.
he's somehow doing well in class and no one can figure out how he's doing it.
he's the captain of the fighting club (first rule of fight club? no talking about fight club) and he's good with members and running them
he hates the idea of hazing in his club and will kick you out if you try it
he has a special bond with one of the advisors given to him and he defends him like hell
he hangs around luffy bc he thinks of him as a little brother and wants to make sure he's alright
fights with sanji because he thinks its sooooo fucking funny
he's a regualar at the local bar to the point they don't even I.D him anymore they're just like "there's zoro."
sanji
definitely a food science major
he loves trying out new recipes and helping in the kitchen
sometimes when money gets low, he'll have a bake sale and they always do really fucking well
sometimes he'll take apprentenships for "fun" and so he's just racked up expirence in working in different places
his dream job is to have his own resturant where he can create his own dishes and not take any shit from anyone
also (because my sanji is a weed smoker not a cig user) will sometimes make weed pastries and they do so well when he sells them
would be outside on a smoke break but somehow never smells like weed its so crazy
would be the type of student to grumble and complain about homework but still do it anyway (he's just like me fr)
ussop
went to a shopworking trade school (his momma didn't want him to learn nothing after high school so she made him)
he found out later that he like working on different things and keeping himself busy
he also like gardening in his spare time
he's like really good at it and sometimes when his garden is too much for his family, he'll either give it to his neighbors or sell it in the farmer's market
his most frequent customer is sanji because sanji likes the freshest products avaliable
sanji askes him to hang out and try his recipes from time to time and eventually he makes friends with everyone
nami
earth sceiene major with minor in accounting
she is the the most ruthless student you'll ever meet
she don't take any shit from no one regardless of who you are, which is why she makes such a good tutor
she makes sure all her students get a good grade and because she tutors both zoro and luffy, she makes BANK
she also is the pretty girl on campus and all her friends pretty too !
hair done, lashes done, lashes done, face card don't decline, body tea !
she loves hanging out with the group but she'll never tell you that but everyone knows she cares about her people
she's lowkey scary
she isn't afriad to curse you the fuck out when you piss her off
fiercely loyal my girl nami is badddd
robin
history major with a minor in english
knows everything about everything and is one of the best tutors of the campus
she's kinda shy (mostly cause she doesn't like people but she's trying)
luffy thought she was cool and just kept bothering her until she reluctantly accepted
she's a real history buff and can debate her history like no one else
once got into it with zoro for a peice of random history
chopper
struggling medicene major
he looks stressed at all times and somehow is keeping a 4.0 gpa
luffy and zoro will come over with brusises and he just takes one look at him and sighs deeply
he helps in the nursing home with the doctors because he feels happy when people are treated
he doesn't like when people treat him or others differently so he's such a big advocate for anti discrimination against anyone
he likes helping people that most doctors would ignore and people hate him for that
he's not good at taking compliments so its funny to see him react to the compliments
he loves sweets and he loves when sanji makes them so he's always first in line at sanjis bake sale
he's so cute and small your honor
frankky
mechanic (trade school)
a literal grease monkey
he's always making something in his garage and
he makes custom peices for his friends and even sold some to some of the rich kids
besides that he's really cool about things
he's co chill about everything and help fix things whenever the crew needs it
all in all a cool dude
brook
old ass music head
he's one of the best musicains and he's so casual about it
he's a allumi for the school and he takes students every year to train them and teach them what he knows
he only takes like 5 students a year so the spots are very competative and very hard to get into
hes so chill otherwise
the type of mentor to call you out on your bullshit but still
extra little bonus scene!
the gang goes to Jinbe's resturant every week after all they're classes. Luffy had stumbled upon it one day and he just slowly started to get his friends to go their and that's just become their hangout spot since then. Jinbe pretends to hate when they come over but in all actuality, he loves talking to them and getting to know them as a group and as individuals. he loves their energy and will make sure they eat well and they're getting good grades.
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no tag list for now but make sure you're supporting the people that are spending time making works for your entertainment !
@rynfiles ; @strawhatkia
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mahuhumaling · 3 days
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not to intellectualize and defend bridgerton's mid ass writing but for me S2 was never really a love triangle.
sure they marketed it heavily that way, had charithra join jb & simone for main promos etc., but edwina has always been a representation of what was truly hindering kanthony to love each other: DUTY.
kanthony are both eldest children who were raised to take care of their younger siblings, stepped up to practically be the heads of their respective households, and had to carry the burden of responsibilities at a young age.
edwina is literally the physical manifestation of that reminder. anthony never loved her, we get like one (1) scene of edwina and anthony alone together because they never made him develop romantic feelings for her.
kanthony are both too stubborn because time and time again they KEEP prioritizing her (= DUTY) instead of themselves. it's why it takes kanthony's moms' apologies for putting them in such a role so young when they faced heavy losses in their lives — for KA to actually recognize that it's okay to have something for themselves.
jb said it himself: anthony needed to go through such a long and slow character arc before really committing and fully devoting himself to kate. he "surrenders" himself to the thing he has deprived himself off of for most of the season (for months, in show time): happiness.
i thought ppl understood that but apparently not. they're too busy complaining about the lack of KA screentime when that's literally not true???
and that apparently kate's backstory wasn't that fleshed out? these people think flashbacks are the only filmic device to give depth to a character when that is the furthest thing from the truth. you get to know her through her scenes with other ppl, her relationship with them.
you see all her facets: her horsemanship, her love for newton, her competitiveness, her disposition as a spinster, how little she feels because of her grandparents, how she subconsciously desires her mother's approval, her strength, womanhood, and capability in conversations with eloise, how edwina is literally an extension of her (taught and shaped her as a person), & of course her own desires and wants.
but no, they want to waste time getting mad at edwina to see all of what they've been trying to show us, and determining whether a character is well-written only when she is "likeable" or within the standards of morality like ohmygod give me a BREAK
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blackbird-brewster · 2 days
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Meta: Jemily Queerbaiting
With the huge influx of posts saying 'Jemily is gonna be canon', I really appreciated seeing this post because OP was completely correct. I didn't want to write an entire dissertation as a reply, so I'm making my own post with my personal opinion on this. (All sources are noted in footnotes)
Before I began this rant, for anyone who thinks this is anti-Jemily. It is not. I have shipped Jemily for 18 friggin years and that's never going to change. This post is specifically my thoughts about queer baiting.
First off, I need to note that the showrunners (and the cast members who use social media) KNOW what a huge queer following this show has and that's why we got pansexual Tara Lewis in S16 [1]. Which, in itself, was SOOOOOOO important!!! Our first canonically queer main in SIXTEEN seasons was a middle-aged Black woman!!! That's phenomenal. (The fact it was horrible rep, because they instantly ruined her relationships once her queerness served it's plot point is a whole other post entirely)
In my opinion, the 'big Jemily moment' Paget posted about on Twitter [2] (and AJ hinted at during a recent IG live) is simply queerbaiting to get people to watch S17. I know a lot of you are newer to the fandom and I love your enthusiasm, I really do, ship and let ship, but listen, let's be real, Jemily is not going to be made canon. The showrunners aren't going to suddenly say (after 17 seasons) 'Surprise, Jemily is endgame'. This show has never cared about queer rep and now that CBS/Paramount have already ticked their queer rep box with Tara, they won't be in any rush to add any other characters to it.
Please buckle in, I've got a lot of thoughts on this matter --
What is Queerbaiting?
If you aren't aware of what queerbaiting is, here's a good definition:
Historically, queerbaiting has carried two meanings: the first is an act of aggressive heterosexuality to shut down queer subtext on screen while still teasing and catering to the queer audience in advertising, public relations, and fan engagement strategies; the second is an existing homoerotic tension between two characters played up on screen while met with derision by the professionals behind the scenes. [3]
The Medium article quoted here is from 2017, a time when parasocial relationships were really starting to take over social media. In 2024, actors are now only a mention or tag away online, they have direct conversations with fans, and this process has allowed for an even deeper form of queerbaiting.
Oftentimes online, actors are asked directly about certain ships and while some ignore these questions (usually to avoid breaking their contracts or other repercussions), others (looking at you, Paget) choose to instead tease fans about queer ships. She's done this for years upon years and if I've learned anything in the past twenty-years of existing in fandom spaces it's this -- don't hold your breath. In it's original meaning, for something to be deemed as queerbaiting there had to be malicious, or at least, purposeful intent to string queer fans along by teasing them with suggestive content about the ship in question, while knowing this ship will never come to fruition in canon.
The thing to remember is, Paget and AJ aren't the only ones who know about Jemily shippers -- the network and showrunners are well aware of this ship too. When networks/showrunners figure out they have a strong sapphic fanbase, they love to use that to their advantage to get more viewers and higher ratings. Queerbaiting is a goldmine to keep fans watching long running shows, look at Rizzoli and Isles, Supergirl, and OUAT for examples of this.
Jemily and Queerbaiting:
Ever since Emily joined the BAU in S2 (2006), there have always been fans who ship JJ/Emily (shoutout to the old LJ forums!). Way before celebs were just a tweet away from fans, back when all our fics began with disclaimers so we wouldn't get sued by networks, we went to great lengths to keep our fanworks far removed from actors/showrunners attention.
As far as Jemily goes, this reply from Paget in a 2009 interview with TVGuide.com [4] (which has now been deleted from their site unfortunately, but there are quotes on Tumblr still [4.a]) confirmed some fans' worst fear -- the actors had found our fanworks online.
TVGuide.com: Of course, a band of fans want her to hook up with Hotch.
Brewster: I know! I didn't realize that fans make these videos on YouTube? A.J. Cook sent me a hilarious one that made it look like Prentiss and J.J. were having a secret lesbian affair. You know, when Hotch was blown up in the SUV, we shot this scene where he's in the hospital and I'm standing next to him, looking at his bleeding ear. Our director came in and said, "Paget, you're looking at Hotch like you're in love with him. It looks really weird." So now, every day, Thomas [Gibson] and I flutter our eyelids at each other.
This was the first time I recall anyone acknowledging Jemily shippers publicly and at the time (Jan 2009), the show was still in Season Four (just before CBS fired both AJ and Paget [5]). Paget genuinely said it's 'hilarious' that fans shipped JJ/Emily. Even now, I'll see people say 'We know Paget and AJ have seen Jemily fanvids, so they obviously ship it too' -- but those same people rarely acknowledge the full context of the original answer. Paget not only thought JJ/Emily were 'hilarious', but then she doubled down and turned her reply back to how she and Thomas liked to play up the chemistry between Emily/Hotch.
While no one can say for sure which video it was that AJ sent Paget, just knowing they were watching JJ/Emily fanvids sent a bit of a shockwave through the femslash side of the fandom. To some it felt like an invasion of privacy, fanworks are by fans for fans -- knowing the cast were poking around in fandom spaces added an extra layer of worry around what we fans were posting online. Fifteen years ago, it used to be quite taboo for actors to outwardly discuss shipping or other fanon for whatever show they were in, and we fans were usually comfortably removed from the actors altogether.
Of course, now it's the norm for fans and actors/showrunners to co-exist online and interact with one another. This connection has opened new ways for shows to queerbait their fans. Pretty much every show has some form of social media account now and there is no doubt that the people running those accounts keep up with the most popular ships and hashtags. Not to mention that actors are constantly barraged with questions about whether they ship their character with x,y,z, or whether they think a ship should be made canon, etc. These interactions only serve to benefit the shows themselves, because whether the conversation is for or against a certain ship, it's all just free publicity (Why do you think CM now has a TikTok account?)
Every time AJ or Paget say anything about Jemily, the queer side of the fandom loses their minds. But this has been going on for YEARS now and every single time, it turns out to be nothing but social media hype and queerbaiting. Remember this AJ post? [6] Or what about the notorious reply by Paget to a fan, where she talks about how she and AJ held hands under the table 'for the shippers' [7] I've seen this cycle over and over again, so perhaps I am cynical, but I'm not getting my hopes up that Jemily will ever seriously be canon.
It's widely known now, after both Kirsten [8] and Paget [9] have talked about it, that there was an early idea where Prentiss was supposed to be queer, but that was ultimately scraped before it ever made it on screen. For context, please remember, this show has been airing for nearly twenty years. It began in 2005, during the highly conservative Bush administration. Queer people didn't have rights in the US, we couldn't get married, we were rarely protected under discrimination laws, and we could even be fired for simply being queer (in some states). Diverse queer representation on screen was extremely limited to things like 'The L Word' and 'Queer as Folk' (both aired on Showtime, so they were behind a paywall. And as far as tLw goes, that show was extremely male-gaze focused and is horrible in nearly all regards if you try to rewatch it now). As far as prime time shows went, queer rep was even more rare. Which is why Emily wasn't queer from the get-go.
Yes, things have changed since 2006 in terms of queer rep on TV. We have a myriad of queer identities represented in TV and film nowadays, which is why I think it's so easy for newer fans to say 'lf she was supposed to be gay anyway, they should just make Emily queer in canon!' I know this is what fuels most fans' demands for Emily being confirmed queer, and I get it, I DO. I would be all for it! However, I do not, in one hundred years, actually believe that is going to happen after they already canonically queer confirmed Tara in S16. The fact we even got ONE queer character is ground-breaking for this show.
It's also worth noting, that in the time between Paget's departure in 2012 and her return in 2016, she became very active on Twitter. This was when more and more fans began asking her about Jemily and after Kirsten's AfterEllen interview, fans also pushed for Paget to address the possibility of Emily being gay. 'Pushed' is actually an understatement for some of the outright harassment she would receive. (AJ received some of this harassment too, but less so because she doesn't use social media ass often) Back then, neither of them replied to these things directly. Yet, no matter what either woman posted, the replies were full of Jemily stans begging for her acknowledgement. (Did you know 'stan' is literally a term coined for stalker fans?) I remember one time AJ's friend was missing and she posted info on her IG about it, you know what the replies were? People asking her about Jemily. It was genuinely sickening.
Within this context, it was no surprise to fans when Emily came back in S12 , she and JJ's friendship was seemingly erased. The two women were rarely on screen together in the late seasons, plus the writers saw fit to even give Emily not only one (Mark in London, but two, on-screen boyfriends for the first time in the entire series. I personally do not think these changes to Emily's character were coincidence, I saw the hellscape of what people would say to AJ and Paget online and I fully believe that upon Paget's return to the show, the showrunners purposely tried to distance JJ and Emily to dissuade the more abusive side of the fanbase.
Can I prove that, no. But it is the only reason I can think of as to why Emily S12+ seemingly didn't care about JJ anymore, despite their deep and meaningful friendship. I mean, they both CROSSED THE WORLD to go rescue each other in prior canon -- but when Emily comes back, they acted like they barely knew each other. This was even more prevalent in S16, when JJ's main storylines all revolved around Will, and Emily barely looked at JJ in the entirety of ten episodes. (Remember how Prentiss didn't even hug JJ after bomb, but she did go hug Luke?)
So, do Paget and AJ earnestly ship Jemily, or are they continuing the long tradition of queerbaiting us? Who fucking knows, not me. But based on the history of this fandom, I think I can make a safe bet. (Interestingly, if you search all of Paget's twitter for the word 'Jemily' [10] she only has 3 direct tweets mentioning the ship. I don't think it's a coincidence that two are within the past few months since they started filming S17 (the other one was a RT of Kirsten (who tagged something Jemily)
This is all to say --
Just because Paget and AJ have publicly talked about Jemily,, this doesn't mean it's ever going to happen on screen. And you know what, THAT'S OKAY!! There has been this constant outcry (after Tara became queer confirmed) of 'Do Emily next' or 'Why wasn't it Emily with a girlfriend!?' and 'Jemily needs to be canon in S17!' -- as if people believe their ships aren't worth anything unless they are canon.
That couldn't be further from the truth! Fandom is built on headcanons and fan interpretations and rare pairs and all types of shippers. Your ship does NOT need to be canon for you to enjoy it. I will ship Jemily forever, no matter what. I don't think there will be some magical queer plot in S17, at best, we might actually get to see Emily/JJ on screen together again and after the train wreck that was S16 -- I'll take whatever I can get.
And hey -- if I am completely wrong, if Erica Messer pulls a Korrasami out of her hat, I will be ecstatic. I will be happy to be proved wrong, but at the same time, I'm not going to lose sleep over it and I'm DEFINITELY not going to go hound the actors about it on social media.
Sources:
[1] 2022 Digital Spy article about the importance of Tara's coming out
[2] 04/18/24 Paget Tweet
[3] 2017 Queerbaiting article from medium.com
[4] 2009 Broken TVGuide link
[4.a] Tumblr quote from the above TVGuide Interview
[5] 2010 Kirsten interview screenrant.com
[6] 2019 AJ Instagram Post
[7] 2020 Paget video on Twitter (via @karasluthqr)
[8] 2015 Kirsten interview AfterEllen.com
[9] 2016 Paget Interview CriminalMindsFans.com
[10] @PagetPaget search 'Jemily'
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amica-aenigmata-naboo · 12 hours
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Savior
Mizu x Y/N - drabble - 1.1K WC
Masterlist
Warnings: prostitution, attempted SA (not too detailed just implied), Mizu being sexy, he/him pronouns for Mizu
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You had never met someone with eyes like yours. You wore glasses every day, the world appearing dark and dim because of them. You worked for Madame Kaji; being left on a brothel's doorstep as an infant. She saved you from the cold and raised you. She couldn’t stand to watch you be a prostitute, you were practically her own. So she made you useful in other ways. Fetching things for her, cooking, cleaning, always making sure the girls had whatever they needed. You also managed to learn quite a bit of judo. A necessity as you got older, mens wandering eyes and rough hands attempting to take you more often than you would like to admit. Today was no different, you had gathered all the groceries you had been sent to get. You prepared soup for you and Madame Kaji before she had to go and tend to the clients. You only really got to see her in brief moments like these. 
“Good evening mama.” you smiled sweetly at her as you set her bowl in front of her before giving her cheek a delicate kiss. 
She smiled at you before she started eating, “I want you to be careful today.” she said.
“I’m always careful.” you shrugged.
“No, I mean it.” she said as she forcefully set her spoon down. “We have dangerous company.”
You nodded, not wanting to further vex her. You both ate in silence, content with the atmosphere. You both stood, you going to clean.  Madame Kaji’s hand grabbed your wrist before you could make your swift exit. She pulled you back to her before she tucked your hair behind your ears. She slipped your glasses off, you squinted as you adjusted to the light. 
“Rain child,” she said as she kissed your cheek, “how beautiful you are.” 
You smiled and leaned into her touch. Nobody but her and the other prostitutes knew of your eyes. Everyone in the village assumed you were blind, not caring much in general about some whore mongers bastard child. Even Boss Hamata didn’t want you. You preferred it that way; better to be simple and plain than to attract every twisted glance that held nothing but malcontent. She left the small room. As you cleaned you couldn’t help but wonder what company she spoke of. To be fair, most of the usuals were harmless. But there will always be those who enjoy the pain of others. 
You made your way down the hall; watching Ise shrug her Kimono back on as she walked out of one of the many rooms. She gave you a small smile before walking into the parlor to fetch her next client. You shuffled into the room, starting to clean it before one of the girls needed it. Straightening the table, refilling the sake, wiping the sweat and regret off the floor mats. You knew none of the girls liked this work. But you looked at all of them like sisters, you felt their pain and sorrow. You often snuck them sweets Madame Kaji bought for you two to share. Life could always be a little sweeter, even in a small regard. You were almost finished cleaning when you heard what sounded like someone stumbling into the room. You turned and saw a man. Not a regular, tall and stocky. He swayed slightly, alcohol reeking from him. You bowed as you stepped back, putting space between you.
“You’re a… pretty one.” he hiccuped out as he shut the door behind him.
Your heart started racing, nothing good happens behind closed doors here. He stomped over to you harshly dragging you to the ground. He tried to pin you but you kicked him in the shoulder, sending him back. You scrambled up, almost reaching the door when he pulled you by the edge of your kimono. You fell to the ground, stomach against the floor. He held you down with one hand while the other pulled up your skirts. You sobbed and let out one shriek before he shoved your face into the floor, breaking your glasses in half. Your muffled sobs were all that remained. You heard the door fly open and saw a flash of red splatter the walls, a few drops dotting your face. You froze, shock finally settling in as you realize what almost happened to you. Foreign hands rolled you over deftly, you heard their distant voice and saw them through your tunnel vision. 
“Are you ok?” he asked, blue eyes meeting yours. 
He leaned over top of you, arms on either side of your head. You both gawked at each other until you heard running down the hallway. Madame Kaji and a few other prostitutes rushed in. The scowl on your mothers face horrified you. She shoved the blue eyed stranger off you before raising her hand to strike him.
“How dare you touch them!” she shouted. 
You caught her wrist right before she could make impact, “No mama! It wasn’t him.” you rushed out. 
You looked towards the corpse in the opposite corner which was cut in half. You felt the mystery man's hands gently close your kimono which you hadn’t realized fell open. You blushed at his kindness, his respect. Madame Kaji helped you up, a slight shake in your legs from the fear of it all. She walked you to your room but not before you saw which room the blue eyed man entered. As you waited you couldn’t help but think of his eyes, his gentle yet rough hands. Your mind wandered, wanting to know how his lips felt. You shook your head as you made your way to his room, slipping inside silently. 
The samurai’s eyes immediately found yours, yet he remained silent.
“May I sit?” you asked softly.
He nodded. 
“I wanted to thank you…” you said, “I also wanted… to see…” your thoughts tapered out, embarrassed of what you truly wanted to ask. “Your eyes.”
He held a look you couldn’t place an emotion to, “Sit.” is all he said.
You sat closer than he expected, faces inches apart. You knew this position was unbecoming but you didn’t seem to care. You had only ever seen one other person with different eyes, Yuko the prostitute with green eyes and golden hair. But these were blue, just like yours. You admired them looking at the beautiful samurai overall after a while and not just his eyes. 
Your hand came up to gently cradle his face. You moved on instinct, giving him a chaste kiss before leaning back, “Thank you…”
“Mizu.” he answered after a moment, lips buzzing from the brief yet sweet kiss. 
“Thank you Mizu.” you said before bowing and swiftly exiting the room. 
Your heart raced, and little did you know, so did Mizu’s.
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Naboo's Note:
Hello! My first Blue Eyed Samurai post! YAYYYYYY! It's been a long time coming given my obsession with the show but better late than never! Thank you for all the likes and comments, super motivating! XOXOXOXOXOXOX
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jadegiantess · 3 months
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I understand the impulse to make girl!Sam look like Sam but girl carries over to most Winsister ideas but I am once again putting my Winsister OC thought on blast:
Imagine the absolute brain worms that John and the brothers would have if they had a sister who looked just like Mary. Like make her face claim Amy Gumenick levels of looks like Mary. I love their fucked up relationship dynamics getting thrown around with a sister and all the gender weirdness of that now imagine a sister who literally looks like their ultimate victim and their ultimate reason.
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david-watts · 4 months
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I think over covid my m*ther was using the situation to make me not hate her for being a kinda terrible person but I'm having realisations because currently I don't have the threat of my grandmother hanging over my head. how fucked up is it that she refused to let me pursue university on my own terms
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whateveriwant · 5 months
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Task force 141 reacting to their very pregnant wife still trying to clean, cook etc
This turned more into ‘Task force 141 preventing their very pregnant wife from trying to clean, cook, etc’ lmaooooo I hope that's alright
Price
HA! Good one!
No seriously, it's actually hilarious that you think you'd do anything for yourself when your hubby's around
That man has been waiting on you hand and foot since you first got together. So now that you're pregnant and you think he'd let you so much as lift a finger? You must have a serious case of pregnancy brain, sweetheart
Price is doing all the cooking, the cleaning, the running errands, etc. throughout the entirety of your pregnancy (and at least the first several months postpartum)
He's kept you practically bed bound these last few months to the point where you think there's a perfect indent of your body molded into the mattress
Seven months in, he's suddenly called away to a quick mission halfway across the globe, and you think finally you'll get some of your autonomy back...
Well, think again because who should show up at your door the next morning than your mother-in-law herself, ready to pick up where her son left off
She came at the behest of your husband, of course, and was armed with a detailed set of care instructions
What does your husband think you are? Some sort of one-of-a-kind, priceless artifact that needs special handling? (Actually that's exactly what you are. Price-less… I'll see myself out 🚶🏻‍♀️)
Ghost
When it comes to having some semblance of independence during your pregnancy, Ghost will give you a bit of a longer leash than Price, but only just so
You’re going for a walk around the neighborhood? Hold on, let him grab his coat to join you. Or you're going into the backyard to tend the garden? He'll pull the weeds while you water the plants
But when it comes to letting you do certain things, there are some hard nos that he will absolutely not budge on
You try to use a stepladder to reach the top of the cupboard? Stop! You'll break your neck! You try to pick up anything heavier than 10 pounds? Stop! Give it here! You try to drive?... Don't even fuckin' think about it, precious.
The farther along your pregnancy progresses, the better he gets at predicting (and intercepting) your next move
You were gonna do laundry today? Well, wouldn't you know, he's already got a load going in the washer. You were about to make dinner? Well shucks, he just ordered takeaway from that Greek place you love
His ability to read your mind is honestly impressive once you get past how damn annoying you find it. Just because you're pregnant doesn't mean you're incapable of fending for yourself, and you're tired of him acting as if otherwise
But really, you can never get mad at anything he does for you. After all, what kind of a husband would he be if he didn't take care of his missus and your little one?
Soap
If you take Ghost’s cautiousness, mix it with Price’s thoroughness, and crank it up to an 11, you get Soap
From the moment he found out you were pregnant, he put your house into full lockdown mode, stopping just short of booby trapping the front door in case you got any funny ideas
You want some fresh air? Just open a window. You want to go for a walk and stretch your legs? Just take a few turns about the living room like you're some Austenian heroine
Don't let him catch you doing any kind of physical labor, because so help him Jesus he will grab a spray bottle and use it like you're a feral alleycat he's trying to house-train (he wouldn't really... but don't test him)
You try to unload the dishwasher? Ehrr! Wrong move. You try to remake the bed? Ehrr! Nice try. You try to mop up your own mess. Ehrr! Enough already. You try to– OCH, WOULD YE BLOODY SIT DOWN, WOMAN?!
For nine long months during his requested leave from work, your husband is attached to you like some kind of loving, smothering barnacle
But doesn't he miss his job, or the lads for that matter? What if the world needs saving? What will they do without him?
Well, (in his exact words) fuck the rest of the world! You're his world, bonnie, and he'll give you everything you could ever wish for and then some
Gaz
By far, you have the most independence with Gaz than you would with any of the other three men… at least, at the beginning of your pregnancy, that is
Once you get to around five or six months he becomes just as helicopter-y as all the others; he's just ever so slightly more bearable, perhaps
There's lots of peeking his head around the corner to check on you throughout the day or appearing seemingly out of thin air whenever you're doing something he'd rather you wouldn't
You've lost count of the number of times you've been in the middle of cooking or hanging up the laundry or whatever and his hand has suddenly appeared out of nowhere, gently taking the object from you before directing you to sit and rest
And like, look. He knows you can handle yourself. He knows you could conquer the whole world if you wanted to. That's one of the things he loves about you the most
But seeing you like this – so fragile, so vulnerable, so beautiful and soft and pregnant with his child; his child – it just… It makes him…
He just needs to do these things for you, alright, love? Just let him take care of you, please? Would you let him do that?
You already have so much you have to carry. Let him ease some of the burden off your shoulders. Let him do these small things for you because they don't even compare to all that you're doing for him 🥲
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stromblessed · 5 months
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Mizu, femininity, and fallen sparrows
In my last post about Mizu and Akemi, I feel like I came across as overly critical of Mizu given that Mizu is a woman who - in her own words - has to live as a man in order to go down the path of revenge.
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If she is ever discovered to be female by the wrong person, she will not only be unable to complete her quest, but there's a good chance that she'll be arrested or killed.
So it makes complete sense for Mizu to distance herself as much as possible from any behavior that she feels like would make someone question her sex.
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I felt so indignant toward Mizu on my first couple watchthroughs for this moment. Why couldn't Mizu bribe the woman and her child's way into the city too? If Mizu is presenting as a man, couldn't she claim to be the woman's escort?
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However, this moment makes things pretty clear. Mizu knows all too well the plight of women in her society. She knows it so well that she cannot risk ever finding herself back in their position again. She helps in what little way she can - without drawing attention to herself.
Mizu is not a hero and she is not one to make of herself a martyr - she will not set herself on fire to keep others warm. There's room to argue that Mizu shouldn't prioritize her quest over people's lives, but given the collateral damage Mizu can live with in almost every episode of season 1, Mizu is simply not operating under that kind of morality at this point. ("You don't know what I've done to reach you," Mizu tells Fowler.)
And while I still feel like Mizu has an obvious and established blind spot when it comes to Akemi because of their differences in station, such that Mizu's judgment of Akemi and actions in episode 5 are the result of prejudice rather than the result of Mizu's caution, I also want to establish that Mizu is just as caged as Akemi is, despite her technically having more freedom while living as a man.
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Mizu can hide her mixed race identity some of the time, and she can hide her sex almost all of the time, but being able to operate outside of her society's strict rules for women does not mean she cannot see their plight.
It does not mean she doesn't hurt for them.
Back to Mizu and collateral damage, remember that sparrow?
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While Mizu is breaking into Boss Hamata's manse, she gets startled by a bird and kills it on reflex. She then cradles it in her hands - much more tenderly than we've seen Mizu treat almost anything up to this point in the season:
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She then puts it in its nest, with its unhatched eggs. Almost like she's trying to make the death look natural. Or like an accident.
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You see where I'm going with this.
When Mizu kills Kinuyo, Mizu lingers in the moment, holding the body tenderly:
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And btw a lot of stuff about this show hit me hard, but this remains the biggest gut punch of them all for me, Mizu holding that poor girl's body close, GOD
When Mizu arranges the "scene of the crime," Kinuyo's body is delicate, birdlike. And Mizu is so shaken afterward that she gets sloppy. She's horrified at this kill to the point that she can't bring herself to take another innocent life - the boy who rats her out.
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MIZU'S ONE MOMENT OF SOFTNESS AND MERCY, COMING ON THE HEELS OF HER NEEDING TO KILL A GIRL TO SPARE HER THE WORST FATE THAT THIS RIGID SOCIETY HAS TO OFFER WOMEN, AND TO SPARE A BROTHEL FULL OF INNOCENT WOMEN WHO ARE THE CASTOFFS OF SOCIETY, NEARLY RESULTS IN ALL OF THEIR DEATHS
No wonder Mizu is as stoic and cold as she is.
And no wonder Mizu has no patience for Akemi whatsoever right before the terrible reveal and the fight breaks out:
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Speaking of Akemi - guess who else is compared to a bird!
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The plumage is more colorful, a bit flashier. But a bird is a bird.
And, uh
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Yeah.
I like to think that Mizu killing the sparrow is not only foreshadowing for what she must do to Kinuyo, but is also a representation of the choice she makes on Akemi's behalf. She decides to cage the bird because she believes the bird is "better off." Better off caged than... dead.
But because Mizu doesn't know Akemi or her situation, she of course doesn't realize that the bird is fated to die if it is caged and sent back home.
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Mizu is clearly not happy, or pleased, or satisfied by allowing Akemi to be dragged back to her father:
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But softness and mercy haven't gotten Mizu anywhere good, recently.
There is so much tragedy layered into Mizu's character, and it includes the things she has to witness and the choices she makes - or believes she has to make - involving women, when she herself can skirt around a lot of what her society throws at women. Although, I do believe that it comes at the cost of a part of Mizu's soul.
After all, I'm gonna be haunted for the rest of this show by Mizu's very first prayer in episode 1:
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"LET" her die. Because as Ringo points out, she doesn't "know how" to die.
Kind of like another bird in this show:
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theragethatisdesire · 10 months
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scary dog privilege - best friend!eren x reader one-shot, 18+!!
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hellooooo i have had this in my wips for like two entire months and i am giddy and ready to share it. this hopefully will just be a one-shot, but you guys know i love to create a universe for each of my erens so god only knows where we'll end up with this one. best friend eren appears to be my angstiest, broodiest one yet, and i love him lol. wanted to make some use of classic fanfic tropes, so here we get best friend eren and fake dating!! woohoo!!
beware: this is absolute, pure filth once you get into it lol
pairing: eren jaeger x afab reader
wc: 9.1k
DISCLAIMER: this post contains MATURE CONTENT that is intended only for those over 18. if you are a minor, please do not read below the cut.
CWs: smut, consensual hook-up, rough sex, biting, dirty talk, oral sex (fem!receiving), alcohol use, cussing, squirting, penetrative vaginal sex, swearing, use of names (baby, pretty baby, my girl), crying, multiple orgasms, eren being a menace per usual, jean's an asshole (i'm so sorry you guys know i love him but it had to happen)
have fun ;)
-
This is a terrible idea, and it had been from the start. You know it and so does he, but you had insisted. Now that you’ve made your bed, you have to lay in it, you suppose. You press your forehead to the cold, tinted window of Eren’s ridiculous muscle car, ignoring the vibrations from the rock music he’s blaring and the consistent fluttering in your stomach, and think back to your conversation earlier that week.
“Come on, Eren. It’s just one night!”
“And what about after? When you run into Sasha at the coffee place or Armin after work? Did we just suddenly ‘break up’?” Eren scoffs, pushing past you to grab a Red Bull out of the fridge. You collapse into one of the barstools in his kitchen, having prepared yourself to accept defeat from the moment you posed the question.
“I just can’t face him alone,” you sigh, “it’s only been four months and Sasha told me he’s hooked up with not one, not two, but three girls already. I haven’t even had a drunken makeout at the bar.”
“So? Just because Jean’s been whoring around doesn’t mean you have anything to prove.” Eren's tone is thoroughly unimpressed as he pops the tab to his energy drink.
“You’re my best friend. I just need one tiny favor.”
“Who would even believe us? It’s not like it’s a huge party- we know everyone going.”
You cock an eyebrow. “How many times have Annie and Mikasa tried to con us into a double date? Connie’s been teasing us for years, not to mention the waiter at lunch the other day–”
“Fine!”
“Fine?”
“Fine. I’ll be your date for one night. But all of the explaining is up to you. And,” Eren takes a sip, leveling a glare at you over the top of the can, “I’m going on the record as saying that this is a bad idea.”
He may be reckless, arrogant, and a bit of a brat, but if Eren Jaeger is one thing consistently, he was right. You chance a glance at your “date”. He’s in his typical uniform: black hoodie, black jeans, the little silver chain he never takes off, key swinging over his chest as he turns the car. He looks good, appealing even. If Jean dares to show up with a girl, she won’t consider you to have downgraded, that’s for sure.
You consider your own outfit, an anxious fist tightening in your stomach at the thought of seeing Jean for the first time as an ex. He would have hated it. Your nothing-to-the-imagination outfit is all thanks to Sasha.
You had clued Sasha in on the plan; you hoped having one more agent in on your secret would help sell the act. Sasha had gone all out, lending you an incredibly low-cut black top and some black leather pants that would have caused at least a twenty-minute argument with Jean. Had he not dumped you, you remind yourself bitterly. Sasha had insisted you borrow her all-black outfit to match Eren’s typical attire “just to be cute”. In hindsight, her enthusiasm about this whole situation should have been a red flag, but you’ve already gotten everything lined up, and it’s too late for regret.
It’s far too late for hindsight, too; you’re already ten minutes into receiving the official girlfriend treatment from Eren. He had worn you down on picking you up, opening the car door, the works. Hell, you wouldn’t be surprised if he pulled out a bouquet of roses at this point. You can hear his obnoxious tone now: Even if you’re my fake girlfriend, you’re getting the full package. Play stupid games, win stupid prizes.
Eren parallel parks smoothly on Armin’s quiet street, unusually busy with the buzz of a house party and lined with your friends’ cars. It’s Connie’s birthday, but Armin always hosts. It’s an unspoken rule at this point; you aren’t sure why he keeps volunteering, especially after Sasha had projectile vomited all over his bathroom at the last get-together, but again, dig your own grave and lie in it. You and Armin are in the same boat there.
When the car switches off, Eren takes a moment to consider you, wrapping and unwrapping his long fingers around the steering wheel, a nervous tic he’s had since high school. “You ready?”
“Ready as I’ll ever be,” you sigh, reaching for the door handle. Before you can wrap your hand around it, Eren leans over and pinches you harshly on the thigh. “Ow!”
“I open the door, remember?” Eren says, visibly annoyed.
You roll your eyes at him.“Isn’t this a bit much?”
“You think I’m going to be caught dead letting my ‘girlfriend’ open her own door? I have a reputation to uphold.”
You decide to bite back a snippy comment about the many girls who cried over Eren in college and cross your arms over your chest, pouting instead. “Fine.”
If Eren can be dramatic, so can you.
As naturally as if he had done it a hundred times, Eren slings his arm over your shoulders on the walk up towards the door; the weight of it, both physically and mentally, is heavier than you’re willing to acknowledge. When you catch sight of Bertholdt, Reiner, and Annie peering through the window, a flutter of nerves erupts your stomach; you reach a hand up to play with Eren’s fingers, absentmindedly spinning one of his rings and trying to sell the look as best you can. “We better pull this off.”
“It’ll be fine, just follow my lead.” Eren pulls you closer, kissing your hairline. Goosebumps rise all over your body; not at the action itself, but how disturbingly easy the affection seems to come to him. As Eren knocks on Armin’s bright red door, you pack that thought away and shove it to the back of your mind to collect dust.
“Hi…guys?” Armin’s friendly smile upon opening the door falters in confusion as he takes you in, absorbing the sight of you two intertwined on his doorstep. Armin’s wide, blue eyes flick between the two of you, and you can see the gears churning in his head, trying to make sense of how awfully close you and Eren are. Pitting your fake relationship against Armin’s intellect is the perfect first test; a nervous sweat breaks out under your skimpy outfit.
“Sup, ‘min?” Eren smiles back, the very picture of nonchalance, extending his free hand to shake Armin’s shoulder.
“Come on in.” Armin, ever polite, turns to allow for plenty of room for Eren to pull you inside. He doesn’t outright ask why Eren’s holding you, but his eyes betray his suspicions. It seems like your plan, as terrible as it is, is working. One down, a dozen or so to go.
Never dropping his arm from around your shoulders, Eren steers you into the living room where one of Connie’s favorite bands is already blasting from the speakers. Annie and Mikasa are curled up together in Armin’s recliner, hands interlocked as usual; Sasha and Connie are positioned at Armin’s bar cart, violently shaking two cocktail shakers apiece; Reiner, Bertholdt, Marco, and Jean are on the couch, arguing over something sports-related. With a sinking stomach, you notice that there’s only one unoccupied seat left in the room.
“My two favorite lovebirds!” Sasha cries, abandoning her cocktail shakers and rushing over to give you a hug. Upon Sasha’s impact, Eren drops his arm and grabs your hand that’s closest to him as a substitute, never taking his hands off of you. His actions are pointed, purposeful; every pair of eyes in the room looks between the two of you in surprise. You can practically feel a hazel-tinted laser beam burning a hole into your forehead. “You guys are so late; honeymoon phase gotcha already?”
“Laying it on a little thick, Sash,” you whisper into Sasha’s ear, cheeks burning. To your chagrin, Eren only curls his mouth in response.
“What?” Connie frowns, still shaking his drinks. “How long has that been a thing?”
You pause, your heart nearly stopping. You should have made up a story, you realize, something to explain–
“Just a few weeks.” The still-strange weight of Eren’s arm around your shoulder returns, and his jade eyes rest on you, adoration beaming through his always-cool gaze. Against your will, butterflies start dancing in your stomach; apparently Eren’s quite the actor.
“Yeah,” you jump in, grateful for Eren’s lead, “we just wanted to feel it out before we told everyone, that’s all.”
“Sasha knew.” Mikasa raises a suspicious eyebrow. Annie smirks at the two of you, a knowing look on her face.
“It’s about time.” Marco appears from the kitchen with a huge bowl of tortilla chips in one hand and salsa in the other. “Good for you guys.”
You can’t help yourself, finally meeting Jean’s eyes. He’s openly scowling at you, which is to be expected; where Eren is a criminally smooth liar, Jean wears his heart on his sleeve. You recognize that face all too well: anger to mask heartbreak, the same face he wore when you used to fight. For the first time, it occurs to you how cruel this plan might be, how Jean might react to you moving on with a mutual friend. Guilt washes over you, cold and heavy.
“Thanks for giving me a heads-up before you moved in on my fucking girlfriend, Jaeger,” Jean snips, taking a long swallow of his beer.
The guilt drops away from you as quickly as your jaw; you’ve forgotten what a prick Jean can be. Eren has been slowly guiding you over to the singular remaining seat throughout the conversation, and after Jean’s comment, he tugs you down firmly onto his lap. He rubs a large palm over your thigh, a blatant gesture of ownership.
“Not your girlfriend anymore, Kirschstein.” You can hear the distinct note of pride ringing through his voice, hear the nasty look leveled at Jean without turning to face him. It’s been fifteen minutes of fake dating, car ride included, and you can already feel the friendship line blurring. Your head spins.
“Anyway,” Armin, ever the gracious host, interrupts, breaking the awkward tension that has settled over the room, “what bar does everyone want to head out to later? Connie gets the first pick, being the birthday boy.”
The conversation in the room picks back up into a familial bickering over the evening’s next destination. All of your friends have become accustomed to the occasional awkward moment over the years now that some of you have begun to couple up; Mikasa and Annie especially are notorious for bickering like an old married couple, no matter who’s around.
“I need a drink,” you murmur to Eren, moving to stand.
“Do you mind getting me one, babe? Don’t want to lose our seat.” Eren pecks you on the cheek, smiling up at you as if everything about your situation right now is normal, natural for him. Jean’s eyes follow you every step of the way, and your face burns.
Over the years you’ve been friends with him, it’s never been lost on you that Eren’s attractive, not after the dozens of women he ran through in his college years. Peeking over your shoulder now, however, feels like you’re seeing him for the first time, seeing him the way the world sees him. Heavy-set dark brows frame his bright eyes beautifully, his jaw’s grown sharp and severe, and his lips are soft and pouty, stretching into a wicked smirk with sharp canines. He had grown into a heartbreaker, and he’s your best friend and now fake boyfriend– you swat away your private admiration as soon as it comes, taking a deep breath to center yourself and rifling through the bar cart in a daze.
“Want me to make you one?” Sasha waves a bright red concoction under your nose. “Connie and I made them- it has three different types of liquor in it, and you can’t taste any of it!”
One sip of the tiny cocktail straw has your nose wrinkling in disgust. You’ve worked behind a bar since the day you turned twenty-one, and the drink Sasha’s offering you tastes like an overly-syruped nightmare. “Um…no, that’s okay Sash. I’ll probably just stick to beer.”
Connie sticks his tongue out at you. “Boring!”
Predictably, Sasha pouts. “Okay, but we’re definitely making you take a shot. We can chill it in the kitchen, want to help me get some ice?”
Holding up a bottle of tequila, she cocks her head toward the kitchen and wobbles her eyebrows madly. You almost laugh; anyone who can’t pick up on a hint from Sasha is walking around with earplugs and their eyes closed.
“Fine. Let me just grab Eren a beer, and I’ll meet you in there.”
“Ugh, couples,” Connie rolls his eyes, wandering over to fiddle with the dusty karaoke machine that Armin claims broke years ago. You’ve always been dubious as to the truth of that, but knowing your friends, you can’t blame him.
Opening the cooler, you smile to yourself; Armin remembered your favorite IPA from the brewery down the road and stocked the cooler accordingly, nestling a few Hazy Daze’s between Reiner and Bertholdt’s domestics. You pick your way through the haphazard seating arrangements back over to Eren, holding a cold Budweiser bottle towards him. He pauses in his conversation with Reiner, grabbing your hand that holds the beer and removing it from your hand, bringing your knuckles to his lips, brushing them over in a light kiss. He looks you up and down lecherously as he does it, a dangerous curve to his lips.
You return a weak half-smile, doing your best to not appear outwardly shaken by Eren’s behavior and keep the what the fuck? thoughts from showing plainly on your face. Eren waves you off to the kitchen with a light pat on your bottom, innocent as ever.
“How’s it going?” Sasha asks, safe now in the privacy of the kitchen. Her face is already full-flush with excitement and that awful cocktail she was sipping.
“I mean, it seems like everyone’s buying it. Jean looks pissed, though.”
“What were you expecting? He’s always thought Eren had a thing for you.”
“Everyone thinks Eren has a thing for me,” you roll your eyes, “at least it’s working in my favor now.”
Sasha fixes you with a glare, wobbling slightly. “If you don’t think Eren actually has a thing for you, you must be blind. Deaf, too.”
“Sasha–”
“I mean, even if you hadn’t told me, I would have fallen for it. Is it not, like, weird for you guys? That it’s just natural for you two to–” Sasha burps, interrupting herself, and giggles. “Just makes ya think.”
“Sasha!” Connie calls from the living room. “Let’s do Eye of the Tiger first!”
“Woo!” Sasha shouts, abandoning you and running into the room to take part in the newly-revived karaoke festivities.
You stand alone in the kitchen, shell-shocked by Sasha’s observations. The truly irritating thing is that she’s entirely right. Not only do Eren’s little kisses here and there, the constant touching, even the pet names come naturally, it almost feels…nice. It’s as easy for you to receive his affection as it is for him to give it. You peek around the corner, grimacing at Sasha and Connie’s amplified wailing, just wanting to look at him. Really look at him.
Kicked back, beer in hand and jacket thrown over the back of his chair, Eren oozes charisma. Even doing nothing but holding a conversation with Mikasa, the room gravitates around him. Jean’s angry glare never leaves him; Armin has switched to drinking Budweiser, even though you know he hates it; Annie’s nodding along with whatever Eren’s saying; even Sasha and Connie are angling their performance around him, alternating between singing together and holding their microphones towards him, trying to elicit a reaction. He has this undeniable magnetic force, one that you aren’t exempt from.
You’d met him nearly a decade ago, in high school, and initially couldn’t stand him. His hair-trigger temper had hardly cooled with age, and his ego had gotten unthinkably larger, but you grew to find both of them charming– to a degree. One thing led to another, and before you knew it, Eren was the one cleaning you up and getting you drunk after every bad breakup, introducing you to all of your favorite sports teams and lending you jerseys for the games; hell, he even read that smutty fairy fantasy series you’d been obsessed with in college. Had the man you attempted Star Wars marathons with until you both fell asleep really looked like that the entire time?
He catches your stare, beckoning you over with one long, crooked finger. As his girlfriend for the night, you have to obey, even though you would much rather roll your eyes at the cliche.
“Missed you,” he mumbles as you sit back on his lap, breath hot against the shell of your ear.
“You too,” you respond accordingly, wrapping your arm lovingly around his shoulder. Eren’s eyes flit down to your cleavage, but knowing him, it’s impossible to discern if it’s part of the act, or Eren being himself.
His hands rest comfortably over the casing of your pants, one on your thigh and one on the small of your back, one thumb rubbing circles into your soft flesh. Reveling in the drag of his rings over your clothed body, you couldn’t help but wonder how they’d feel on your bare skin, on your throat, on your–
Surprising yourself at the dirty direction of your thoughts, you swallow your beer too quickly, coughing. Eren, who had coincidentally been taking a sip at the same time, laughs at you mid-sip, choking beside you and spraying beer out of his nose.
The entire room bursts into laughter; Eren regains his composure and joins in good-naturedly. You giggle along, relief coursing over your body. Sure, Eren might look a little extra handsome tonight and be a bit touchy because you asked him to, but he’s still Eren.
“They’re practically in sync already.” Hitch, Marco’s girlfriend who had apparently joined the party while Sasha and you were in the kitchen, rests her face on her hand dreamily.
“It’s a little freaky,” Annie observes with narrowed eyes, but the slight curve of her lip betrays her. Not only were they believing your little farce, but they were happy for you. That’s enough to make you flush a little, realizing how naturally everyone’s just accepted your fake relationship. Everyone but one person, at least.
Jean suddenly stands, ripping a beer from the cooler and storming into the kitchen. The laughter dies as quickly as it had come, everyone exchanging nervous looks.
“I’ll go talk to him,” Eren offers, nudging you off of his lap. You blanch.
“Eren, I don’t know if you should-”
“It’s fine,” Eren drops a soft peck on your forehead, walking away before you can stop him. You meet Mikasa’s eyes, wide and concerned. To everyone else, Eren’s walking calmly, not a hint of aggression in his gait. But you know him, know him well enough to catch the anger simmering in his eyes, quiet, but there.
Jean and Eren have always been friends, albeit reluctant ones at first, but too similar where it counted not to get along. That had abruptly come to a halt when you had fallen for Jean. At first Eren had been confused, but over time that confusion had melted into constant irritation. Jean and you were wrong for one another, you know that in hindsight, but at the time, you had chalked all the fighting up to a passionate relationship. The constant tears had driven Eren nearly to a breaking point; multiple times you had begged him not to bring his frustration to physical blows. And now, your fake-boyfriend slash best friend and ex-boyfriend with the two worst tempers out of everyone you know are “talking”. You bite down hard on the inside of your cheek to keep the worry in your chest.
“Are you alright?” The question comes from Armin, who’s placed a steadying hand on your shoulder. “I’m sorry that Jean isn’t taking the news well.”
“There’s no news,” Mikasa says low enough for none of the others to hear over the music, now standing directly behind Armin.
A neat little cross appears between Armin’s eyebrows. “They’re-”
“Faking,” she interrupts Armin, “they aren’t dating.”
Armin stammers, trying to correct her and apologize to you for her at the same time, but you just sigh. “How’d you know?”
“One of you would have told me,” she shrugs, “or at least I’d like to think you would.”
“It’s just…I couldn’t bear to show up alone, not with Jean here and apparently sleeping around since the breakup.” You cross your arms over your chest, grabbing your own shoulders tightly. It’s your fault, you know it is, but you had only wanted to feel a little less pathetic, a little less heartbroken. Drama had been an unfortunate and unexpected side effect.
“Why would Eren agree to that? It seems silly,” Armin muses, noticing your glare and immediately turning bright red, “I- I don’t mean you’re silly, just, you shouldn’t-”
“You know.” Mikasa bumps him. The slightest hint of a smile plays on her face, a knowing look directed at you. You frown, trying to look confused through the pink rising to your face.
A loud crash from the kitchen catches all of your attention, saving you from an uncomfortable line of conversation but making your heart beat that much faster. Dashing to the kitchen door, the entire house party hot on your heels, your thundering heart sinks.
Eren has Jean pinned up against Armin’s cabinets, forearm tight against the other man’s neck. Jean’s still seething at Eren, raw ego washing against the cool anger blazing in Eren’s eyes.
“Need to learn how to watch your fucking mouth, Kirschstein–”
“Eren!” Your voice is surprisingly firm, given the nauseating mixture of embarrassment, confusion, and panic swirling in your stomach. “Let him go!”
“Do you want to tell her what you said, or should I?” Eren hisses, nudging into Jean further. Jean’s eyes dart to you, back to Eren, and for a fleeting moment, you have hope that maybe this all can be resolved peacefully. And then Jean makes a fatal mistake.
He spits directly in Eren’s face.
Just as Eren swings, Reiner collides with the two, just barely catching Eren by his forearm before he can make contact with Jean’s cheek. Bertholdt, as always, is Reiner’s shadow, grabbing Eren by the shoulders and wrenching him away from Jean. It takes Connie, Reiner, Marco, and Bertholdt to restrain both of them, Armin standing in the middle and shouting how ridiculous the fight is above the curses.
“It’s my fucking birthday, Jean, come on bro!” Connie growls, pinning Jean to the cabinets with his back.
“Jaeger- back off!” Reiner manages to pull him back a few inches, hardly able to contain Eren, who’s struggling furiously, in his massive arms. Jean finally relents, slouching into the multiple arms holding him back. After several seconds, Eren does the same, never taking his eyes off of Jean. Into the shocked silence, Armin bravely speaks first.
“Maybe we should leave,” he suggests awkwardly, “take the party elsewhere.”
You pity him, poor Armin and his hosting inclination. Eren finally turns to face you. The wrath laid bare in his eyes sends a chill over your body.
“We are,” he spits, sparing Jean one last threatening glance before storming over, grabbing you harshly by the wrist, and practically dragging you towards the door.
“Eren, wait–” you try to reason with him and dig your heels in, but it’s fruitless. Eren’s strong, stronger than you, and you don’t stand a chance stopping him now that his mind’s made up.
He doesn’t drop the act at the car, ripping your car door open, waiting impatiently for you to step into your seat, and slamming the door behind you. As soon as he turns the ignition, the same angry rock music you had listened to on the way over blasts from the speakers; Eren makes no move to turn it down and neither do you. After so many years together, his temper rarely scares you anymore; it’s more of a nuisance than anything when it flares. You stare out of the window, seething with anger, arms crossed and foot tapping.
Five minutes into the drive, you realize Eren isn’t taking you to your house, but to his. What he’s thinking, you can’t be sure, but you go ahead and start making your plans to give him an earful and call your Uber the moment you get there. You just can’t wrap your mind around why he would attack Jean and embarrass you like that– Eren may have been a hothead, but rarely did he let his temper escalate to that degree, especially against a friend.
Eren whips his car into the driveway, parking with such force you nearly knock your head against the headrest. You reach for your door handle, ready to throw it open, but Eren’s faster. He hits the child lock button and slams his own door behind him, storming around the car.
“The fucking child lock button?” You leap out of your seat once he’s opened your door, glaring up at him with your fists curled by your sides. “Is that what I am, Eren, a child?”
“Come inside.” Eren’s voice is low, dangerous. You’re too angry to indulge his temper.
“No,” you snap, “I’m going home.”
No sooner have you pulled your phone out to call an Uber than Eren snatches it from you, sliding it into his pocket. He repeats himself, more forceful this time. “Come inside.”
You stand rooted to the spot for a beat, so angry you aren’t sure what you want to do more: run home, punch him, or kick his precious car headlight in. Eren simply glares down his strong nose at you, face unreadable as ever, rage still glittering in his eyes.
“Come inside, please,” Eren repeats himself again through gritted teeth. You decide you’ll indulge him and go inside, hear him out, and then punch him. At least it’ll catch him off guard, and you’ll have a better chance of getting your shot in. Without another word, you stomp up the walkway to his house, into the house, and into the kitchen, shoving your shoes off. Stupid fucking kitchens, you think to yourself, kicking your bare foot against the base of his kitchen island. Immature, but the little burst of violence feels good.
Whether Eren’s house smells like him or Eren smells like his house you’ve never been able to decide. The distinct scent of him envelops you: a boyish, sharp smell, laced with a hint of the weed he kept in the living room. Ordinarily it’s a comforting smell, but tonight, it nearly makes you sick with irritation. Fighting with Eren is something you do rarely, but you know the both of you well enough to buckle down. Arguing with Eren means you have a long, nasty, and emotionally gutting night ahead of you. You’re more than ready, fists shaking by your side.
“What the hell was that, Eren?”
He doesn’t answer, swinging the fridge open and grabbing a beer. He twists the top, tossing it aside carelessly and taking a healthy swig, bun bouncing on the back of his head, making no move to acknowledge your presence.
“Answer me!” Your voice rattles the cabinets. “Yeah, was the fake dating a stupid idea? Sure, fine, it was stupid, but starting a fucking fight with Jean on poor Connie’s birthday–”
“You didn’t hear what he said,” Eren says simply, still chugging his beer and avoiding your gaze.
“What could he have said to make you do that? What was so awful that you had to–”
“It was about you.” Eren finally brings his eyes to yours, staring you down through the little hairs that have escaped his bun with such intensity that it nearly knocks you clean on your ass.
Your heart stutters. “You– what did he say?”
“Told me if I wanted to taste your ‘slutty pussy’ so bad, I could just smell his breath. S’why he spit in my face.” Eren’s fingers wrap and unwrap around the beer bottle anxiously.
Your mouth drops agape, tears immediately springing to your eyes. No, you set your resolve, praying your body cooperates. “He…he said that?”
“Why didn’t you tell me you’d been fucking him?” Eren spares you another scalding look. Your temper flares at his anger, one fire against another.
“Excuse me?”
“Don’t play dumb,” Eren snaps, “this whole thing was your idea. What am I to you, just some toy you can dangle in front of your pussyboy ex boyfriend? How long have you been fucking him?”
“I haven’t been fucking him,” you hiss, “he lied because he was jealous. And you’re not some toy, you’re– you’re my best friend. I needed you.”
Eren freezes, eyeing you across the kitchen. His expression has changed, infinitesimally so, a pinch of the fury fading from his face but none of the heat. It strikes you that in the years you’ve known him, he’s never looked at you like this before, not once. “Say it again.”
“You’re my–”
“The other thing.”
“I needed you.”
“Again.”
“I needed– fuck, Eren, what is this? Some kind of game?”
He stalks toward you, silhouetted by the light behind him and looking sinful, closing you in. He’s forceful and shameless as he backs you into the counter, as quintessentially Eren as he can be. “Say it one more time.”
“I…needed you,” you indulge him, brain slowing down to pick up each little detail. His cologne– when did he start wearing cologne?– musky and thick in the air, one of his tattoos peeking above the collar of his shirt, the tangible sensation of emerald eyes dragging along every inch of you.
“I like the way you say that,” his tongue darts out, wetting his lips. You stare blatantly. His mouth is red, pouty, and full, bottom lip a little chapped from where he was chewing it in the car. “That you need me.”
Words are lost on you; even if you could gather something to say, it would probably get stuck in your throat the moment it materialized. His presence is choking you. He brings one of those massive hands up, cupping your jaw, running a thumb over your lip. His posture, looming over you, is demanding, almost hungry.
“Do you still?”
“Still?”
“Need me.”
You blink, eyes still watery. “How?”
“You’re a smart girl,” Eren murmurs, hot breath laced with beer fanning over your face, “you know. You’ve always known.”
You do know. When he ghosted a hand over your thighs at the bar, when you fell asleep on his chest watching a movie, the way he had kissed your head, nearly fought Jean, protected you at every twist and turn. You had kept it relegated to the recesses of your brain, slid a hand between your legs and allowed it to simmer to the surface, maybe for a moment, before pushing it back down. You had always known. He has you on the edge of a cliff, and with a thin gasp, you understand him now: he wants you to jump. And so do you.
“I still need you. Now.”
Something critical snaps in both of you. The countertop digs into your lower back, a beautiful, aching pain blooming up your spine to meet the sting of his teeth sinking into your bottom lip. He’s kissing you; this magnetic, maddening man is kissing you, hard. It’s all tongue and teeth, fingers wrapping in hair, hands exploring familiar places in a new way. Greedy, demanding sounds slip through his teeth as he paws at your clothes, squeezes your curves through the silken shirt Sasha had lent you.
“This shirt is ridiculous,” Eren pants into your mouth, “wish I wasn’t about to rip it off of you.”
A little whimper leaves your mouth at that, and your knees buckle. Eren catches you, grabbing you by your torso and lifting you up onto the kitchen counter; you use the extra height to wrap your legs around his hips. A groan from deep in Eren’s chest rumbles against your lips as he rolls his clothed cock insistently against you. The low, simmering heat in your stomach catches fire; he’s big, even through both of your pants, rubbing himself into where you need him most. A hand creeps up your neck, grabbing a fistful of hair and forcing you to look up at him. It hits you how large he is; six feet and some change of taut, corded muscle, bad intentions, temptation.
His voice is quiet and controlled, so close to your face that his nose moves against yours as he speaks. “I’m going to take you to my room. If that’s not okay with you, I need you to say it right now.”
You nod urgently, relishing the burn in your scalp where he holds your hair tight. “I want it- want you.”
Eren slides you off of the kitchen counter and holds you firmly around his waist, making a beeline for his room. You mouth at his neck, enjoying the little grunts he makes against your ear. You drop unceremoniously onto the bed, left to watch as he tears off his shirt.
Oh, and do you watch. It’s difficult to comprehend that your best friend is the man standing above you. You’ve seen him shirtless countless times, but not like this: chest heaving, covered in a thin sheen of sweat, muscles flexing as he reaches for your shirt, ripping it from you and tossing it away. Your eyes draw towards the defined v leading down beneath his jeans, and you wonder how it might taste under your tongue.
Your bra comes next, Eren moving down to take your lips in his again as he deals with the clasp. He pushes you onto your back, kissing down your neck, sneaking harsh bites in between the gentle presses of his lips.
“Careful, Eren– you’ll leave marks,” you gasp, pulling at his hair.
“Good,” Eren replies against your neck, emphasizing his point with another deep bite to your neck, “you wanted everyone to think I was your little boyfriend, didn’t you? Let them see.” 
Your panties grow damp and hot against your core at that; you have no other response than to choke out a stunted moan.
“Fuck, you have no idea,” he growls, traveling down, teeth scraping the top of your breast, “what you do to me. How long I’ve wanted you.”
Your mind falters, caught in the crosswires of Eren’s confession and the way you’re clutching his head to your breasts, fingers desperately threaded in his dark hair and pulling him as close as you could get him. His mouth is so hot it burns, even against your feverish skin. 
“Remember…” Eren muses, mouthing his way down your stomach, “remember college? When you’d wear those slutty little dresses out?”
“I remember,” you breathe, impatient and urging him towards your lower half.
“Used to come home from the bar and jerk myself off, thinking about this sweet little cunt,” Eren tears your pants down your legs, panties following, “could practically see it in those short ass dresses. I’d cum thinking about how you’d sound when I stuck my tongue in it.”
A lewd whine rips out of your throat before you can stop it. Eren’s pressing your thighs open now, and his words and the quick little swipes he’s making across your clit are making you dizzy.
“Fuck…” Eren trails off, eyes wide, “got such a pretty pussy. Just look at you.”
“Eren, please,” you’ve never been the begging type, but the bright green eyes peering up at you from where your legs are propped open by broad, strong shoulders take your sense away.
“I’ve got you,” he shushes you, grinning as he leans into your center. A thick stripe of a lick up the center elicits a groan from you both. “So fucking sweet. Knew you would be.”
Eren hooks his arms around your legs, dragging you down the bed to be flush with his face. Eren’s no amateur when it comes to women, you know that, but you had never dared to let yourself imagine what that might translate to in practice.
He licks little figure-eights around your clit, not quite hitting it; he’s teasing you, the antagonist that he is. You tremble under him, little gasps and whimpers puffing out of your lips. Eren smiles contentedly against your pussy, nose flush with your clit, nudging against it rhythmically as he licks through your folds, circling your entrance. You bring your hands down your body, grabbing a fistful of dark hair and pulling him closer to you; you don’t even know what you want, the singular word more ringing in your head like a church bell.
Eren chuckles. “You need something?”
“Stop fucking with me,” you breathe, inwardly cringing at the desperation in your voice, laid bare for him to see. You brace yourself, looking down to meet his eyes, and instantly regret it. The anger has faded entirely from his face, replaced by an unyielding hunger. A wet, wicked smile plays at his mouth; you can physically feel your cunt dripping just at the sight of him.
“You want me to stop fucking with you?”
“Please, Eren, I need you–”
“That’s all you had to say.”
And then, like he does with everything else in his life, Eren licks into you like his life depends on it, like he’s trying to drown himself in you. His tongue pushes in and out of your hole, swirling around your clit, and you can distantly hear the most obscene sounds you’ve ever heard slipping from your mouth. He’s so good, better than you’ve had in years; you throw your head back against the bedspread, hardly able to focus on breathing.
Just when you think it can’t get any more intense, Eren slides one long finger inside of you, curling it against a spongy spot in your walls that makes you see stars. He chuckles at the loud, long moan that you let out.
“My girl likes being full, doesn’t she?” He pumps his finger slowly, testing your limits. Your walls clutch down on him, begging.
“M-more,” you stutter, barely able to form a coherent word through your panting.
“What was that?” You can hear the shit-eating grin on his face.
“I need– fuck– I need more.”
“Magic word?”
“Please, Eren, fuck!”
“Good, good girl,” he coos, pushing another finger into you, “so sweet and needy for me, yeah?”
Your eyes fly open at the stretch, the fullness of his fingers moving inside you. His other hand comes up to push on your lower stomach; your head snaps up, and you frown at him, panicked.
“W-what are you– oh,” you hate yourself for it, but you can’t even speak as he applies pressure onto your abdomen. You feel strange; it’s just right and too much all at once. The familiar bubble of an impending orgasm swells in the pit of your stomach, but it’s more intense, wetter than you’ve ever felt it. 
“Close?”
“Mhm,” you force out through gritted teeth. Eren moves his elbow slightly, just enough to bear down on your hip bone where you’re pushing your hips up towards him unwittingly. “But it- it feels weird…I, I can’t–”
“Sh,” he murmurs, mouth back against your clit, “you can do it, just for me, I know you can. It’s going to feel so good, you’ll see.”
Your eyes roll back in your head as you teeter on the precipice, blood roaring in your ears. You want to, you need to–
“Cum all over my fucking face baby, give it to me.”
The band in you snaps, your eyes rolling back into your head. You can feel your cunt spasming around his fingers, pushing something out. Liquid sprays from you, all over Eren’s face, soaking the sheets beneath you. You can’t even hear the lewd sounds coming out of your mouth, too surprised at the gushing orgasm. It finally winds down, and once you gather the energy, you shove insistently at his hand still pumping in and out of your sensitive pussy.
“You have the messiest little cunt,” Eren chuckles at you, wiping his face and kissing his way back up to your gasping mouth, “knew you were a squirter.”
He lands a few gentle taps against your sore pussy, and you flinch. 
“I–I’ve never…” you take a shaky breath in between every word, “never done that before.”
Pride illuminates his face. “Really? I knew you could do it– just for me, right?”
You nod, sitting up on trembling elbows. “Your cock, I– I want it in my mouth. Please let me.”
You reach down to fumble with the button of his jeans, but Eren grabs your wrist, pulling your hand up to kiss it gently. “Next time. I’d never forgive myself if I busted before I got to fuck you.”
Too overwhelmed to answer, you simply nod again, sitting back as he shimmies his pants off. Once you catch sight of it, your mouth waters. He’s big, bigger than you thought, wide enough to where your fingers wouldn’t touch if you grabbed it, and long enough to make you gag. The thought goes straight between your legs, cunt still throbbing and clutching around nothing, and a rush of anticipation washes over you.
Eren flips you over onto your stomach, shoving a couple of pillows underneath your hips to prop your ass up. “Christ,” he exhales, landing a sharp smack to your ass.
“Please, Eren- oh!” You jump; Eren’s circling your asshole, using the mess you’ve already made as lube to pop the tip of his thumb in. “Eren…”
“You’d let me fuck you there, one day, I bet,” he mutters, more to himself than to you, you think. Your body tenses in response, the memory of your first glance at his cock fresh in your mind. Eren swears under his breath. “Maybe next time, then.”
You hear him spit, hear the slick sounds of him lathering himself up. You have a brief moment to think to yourself, with the last glimmering shreds of consciousness in your orgasm-dazed mind, that this is Eren. This is your best friend, pinning you to the bed by the back of your neck, rubbing your lower back, admiring you, fucking you. And then the head of his cock is pressing into you, and that last little bit of hesitation gives way.
“Oh, baby,” Eren bends over you to growl in your ear, “never gonna forgive you for keeping this perfect pussy from me all these years.”
“Eren, it’s so– oh my god,” you trail off, eyes rolling back into your head as a few more inches of him sink into you. The way your body stretches for him, the way he fills you, is unbelievable, sweetened by just the slightest burning sensation.
“Fuck,” he hisses, pressing his forehead into the back of your neck, “you feel so fucking good. Best I’ve ever had.”
You whine at that, pushing your hips back into his and forcing him to bottom out. Eren swears against your skin, nearly collapsing on top of you. Your cunt pulses around him, desperately trying to hold him. You can hardly fathom the weight of him inside you; you’re just so full, the word runs through your mind on a loop.
And when he rolls his hips into yours– you nearly start praying. He drags against your walls so nicely, you nearly cum again then and there. He works up a torturously slow rhythm, grinding his hips into yours. You bite down hard on your bottom lip, trying your hardest to suppress the obscene groan about to leave your mouth. You taste blood.
“Never giving this pussy up,” Eren grunts above you, “never letting you give this to anybody else again. It’s mine, isn’t it?”
You nod into the pillow beneath your head, tears pricking at your eyes. He’s picking up the pace now, and the exquisite push-and-pull rhythm of Eren moving inside of you coupled with the fact that it’s Eren moving inside of you is destroying any semblance of intelligent conversation you can muster.
“Say it’s mine,” his face is beside yours now. A hand grabs your hair, turning your face towards him. You know how dazed you must look, mouth open in a permanent gasp, eyes watery and full of hearts. “God, you look fucking incredible. Say it.”
“My…my pussy is,” you swallow hard around the delicious knot of shame in your throat, “yours. It’s yours.”
“That’s my girl,” Eren sits back up, thrusting even faster, “my pussy, my girl. Isn’t that right?”
“Yes,” you pant, canting your hips back against his, feeling your next orgasm approach embarrassingly fast. Eren understands, already knows your body as well as he knows you, and moves the angle of his hips just so to hit that spot he had found so quickly with his fingers earlier. You keen, drooling into the pillow, letting him fuck you stupid.
Eren shoves you over the edge for the second time that night. It’s toe curling, almost violent in nature, the way you cum around him, listening to him hiss as you tighten around him, vice-like. He fucks you through your orgasm for just long enough to see you through it, and flips you onto your back the moment you begin to twitch and shove at his hips, desperate for a break.
You slowly blink your eyes open in surprise, letting the tears roll down your cheeks, expecting to see Eren lining himself up, ready to fuck you senseless once more. Instead, he’s studying you, wiping a tear from your face, licking it off of his finger. There’s a moment happening here, an important one, one you don’t have the mental capacity to absorb right now.
“I want to see you now,” Eren says quietly, “need to see your pretty face when I cum, m’kay?”
You nod dumbly, not knowing how to respond to him in the thick air hanging between you. Before Eren can get any more words out of his open mouth, a loud ring startles you both.
Your phone is buzzing on the floor where it fell from Eren’s pocket; the name on the screen nearly stops your heart. Jean.
You stare into Eren’s eyes, a long, silent beat passes between you both. Your hazy mind is scrambling, grasping at anything you can say to take his mind off of the awkward interruption, but to your surprise, Eren cracks a grin. It’s a wicked grin, prettier than the devil himself and twice as evil.
“Your other boyfriend calling? Checking up on you?”
“He’s not my-”
“Better not be. Not after what I did to you tonight,” Eren’s voice drips with ego. Something in his eyes is territorial, carnal.
You find your words, but they come out quiet. “He’s not. Never again.”
Eren’s grin grows darker. He’s nudging your knees apart with his own, reaching down and pulling one of your legs to wrap around his waist. He’s pushing himself in now, the ringing of your phone fading into the background as the all-encompassing stretch of Eren inside you takes over your thoughts.
“Such a good girl,” he coos, thumbing at your bottom lip, “such a good mouth. Always telling me what I want to hear.”
You nod again, urgently this time, pulling your other leg up to hook them around his waist, hold him inside you, make sure he never leaves again. You’re addicted already; addicted to the pressure in your abdomen, addicted to the way his tip kisses your cervix, addicted to the taste of his sweat as you lick a strip of it from his face, cheekbone to temple.
“I…” you aren’t sure how to articulate how good it is, how good he is. A defeated laugh of your own making interrupts you. “You feel so fucking good. I feel so fucking good right now.”
“God, just look at you, all fucked out for me. You love it, don’t you?” Eren kisses your forehead, face to face with you after propping his elbows on either side of your face. “Love how I fuck you like a whore, don’t you? Tell me, baby.”
“I love it,” your voice is quivering, and you’re vaguely aware of tears streaming down your face. You’re overstimulated, you at least know that, but he just feels so good that asking him to stop seems more painful than letting him keep hammering into you.
“My pretty baby, you’re so fucking perfect,” Eren rambles, “so pretty when you cry for me.”
You can’t break away from his gaze, not through the tears or the rapid-fire speed of him fucking into you. Your legs are shaking so badly you can barely hold them up; Eren’s letting a flurry of little grunts and groans fly out, grabbing onto your cheek with one hand.
“Gonna cum soon,” he huffs, hips still pistoning into you hard enough to hurt, “gonna cum in your pussy, really make it mine, okay?”
“Okay,” you whimper, clamping down on him at the mere thought of it.
“Fuck, you like that don’t you?” He seethes against your forehead, thrusts beginning to falter. “You want to be mine? Want this pretty cunt stuffed full of my cum?”
You can feel him getting closer now, sloppy thrusts punching into your cervix, the ache of bruises forming on your inner thighs as he uses you, chasing his orgasm. You force your eyes open, meeting bright, hypnotizing green. Your voice is going to break, you know it, you hate it, you love him for it. “I– I want to be yours. P-please cum in me Eren, I need it.”
He slams into you one last time, holding his hips as tightly to yours as he can manage, cumming deep inside you with a breathless curse. You arch your back, relishing the feel of his cum in you, warm and filling. Even in your fucked-out mind, you know it’s a lot; you can feel the drip of it, seeping out around his cock and down onto the sheets. The leaden collapse of his body into yours, the gradual softening of him inside you, grounds you, pulling you down from the clouds and back into the bed.
It’s Eren on top of you, sweaty skin clinging to yours, his cum that you begged him for leaking out of your abused pussy. Your eyes shoot open. He’s incredibly heavy, your breath still coming out in short puffs as you try to catch it. He slides out of you; one last pitiful whimper leaving your lips as you find yourself empty.
“Holy shit,” Eren breathes out into the tension, a humorless and exhausted laugh punctuating his statement. As he rolls off of you, you’re overcome with the urge to smack him.
“That’s one way of putting it.” You scrounge around in the bed, trying to find the edge of the sheets to cover yourself with. Eren lays beside you, arm tossed over his eyes, as if the entire axis of your friendship hadn’t just flipped on its head. After a beat, you speak your mind, testing the waters. “I should probably call Jean back.”
That catches his attention. Eren sits up, scowling at you. “Why?”
“Maybe he wants to apologize.”
Eren snorts, rolling off of the bed and pulling you up with him, bridal-style; you aren’t sure where he’s taking you, but all the fight’s been fucked out of you, and you melt into his arms, eyes falling closed. “Who fucking cares?”
“I might,” you answer quietly, adjusting to the heat radiating off of his body. When your eyes open, you realize he’s carrying you to the bathroom to clean you up. Your heart thuds sadly in your chest, overcome with so many emotions you couldn’t begin to name them if you tried. You almost want to cry again, for a different reason now.
Eren sits you on the toilet, not responding to your small confession. He drops to his knees before you, reaches a long arm behind him over to the fixtures on his obscenely large bathtub, pushing the plug in and turning the water on. You draw your knees up to your chest, suddenly feeling incredibly exposed. Satisfied with the water temperature, Eren turns back to you, one hand placed firmly on each of your kneecaps.
“You don’t need him,” he says, solemn as you’ve ever seen him, “and from what I saw tonight, you don’t even want him. You know that now, right?”
There’s something about the way he says it, a hidden thread of pleading woven into his words. Your exhausted brain holds onto that, but your heart refuses to believe in it, broken and beating wildly in your chest.
“I just–”
“I meant it, you know,” Eren avoids your direct gaze, eyes flitting over every feature on your face, “I’ve been thinking about this for a long time. Meant every word of it.”
You pause, wondering absentmindedly if he can hear the pounding of your pulse. “Really?”
“We don’t need to get into it now,” he shrugs, “but you know that. You know I’d do anything for you. You know I’d treat you well. ‘M not a bad guy.”
Your chest aches. “I know, but Eren–”
“So that wasn’t the best sex you’ve ever had in your life?” He fixes you with a singular, raised eyebrow, so serious that you giggle in his face.
“You might have me there.”
“Better than horseface?”
“Watch it.”
The light returns to his eyes; it loosens a hard little piece in your chest, flooding you with warmth. It hits you just how much you love that little sparkle amongst the green, just how much you would give to see it as often as you can. “We won’t talk about it, for now at least. I’ll get us cleaned up, and we can go watch–”
“Mamma Mia,” you blurt, hopeful.
“No fucking shot. But we can watch something else of your choosing, if you let me eat you out again.”
“Eren!” You smack his shoulder, scandalized. Both of you laugh; your fake outrage is twice as funny considering the state of you right now, smeared makeup and bruises on your neck.
He grins crookedly back at you. “That’s not a no.”
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lowkeyremi · 3 months
Text
Arranged Marriage hcs with Toji (fem reader)
AU where Toji has cursed energy and was picked by the zenin clan. (he still hates them lol) also he doesn't meet mamagumi so megu is your biological son in this au :3
note: just some quick hcs cuz i couldn't get this thought out of my head. I've seen a bunch of arranged marriage satoru related things but I thought I'd switch it up. mentions of pregnancy
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Arrangedhusband!Toji hates his family and refuses to get married just to fuck them over. (they want an heir)
Arrangedhusband!Toji who goes on a complete rampage when the news about his soon to be marriage finally reaches him through hushed whispers of some maids.
Arrangedhusband!Toji who immediately goes to see Naobito, former head of the Zenin Clan to ask what the fuck is going on.
Arrangedhusband!Toji who is enraged when he hears "you were given the opportunity to settle down yourself, but you didn't so we took matters into our own hands."
Arrangedhusband!Toji who requests to not have a wedding, he'll just sign the damn papers and get it over with.
Arrangedhusband!Toji doesn't visit you for at least a week upon your arrival. He's still pissed.
Arrangedhusband!Toji who finally decides to go visit you, he knocks on your door. You were given your own room to adjust to everything even though Naobito wanted you to be with Toji.
Arrangedhusband!Toji who's shocked when Mai opens the door and he sees you getting your hair done by Maki. The twins decorated your hair with a bunch of different flowers. (they're like maybe 10 in this)
Arrangedhusband!Toji who just stares at you. He doesn't say a word because he doesn't really know what to say. He didn't even know what you looked like until right now.
Arrangedhusband!Toji snaps out of his trance when you break the silence. "Good morning, Toji. It's nice to finally meet you." He catches on to your attitude at the end of your sentence and he doesn't even realize his lip quirking upward. Here he was thinking you'd be some damsel in distress, but it turns out you're pretty confident.
Arrangedhusband!Toji responds with "Uh, hey.." Is that the best he could come up with? You've left him at a loss for words.
Arrangedhusband!Toji who tries to get his shit together and deepens his voice to try and intimidate you a little. "Mornin', [name]. I'll send some maids over this way later. You are to accompany me for dinner tonight."
Arrangedhusband!Toji who hides a growing smile when you say, "Taking me on a first date after getting married? I'm pretty sure it's supposed to be the other way around."
Arrangedhusband!Toji sits at the table waiting for your arrival. After seeing you he wanted to spend some alone time getting to know you, but his mother insisted on throwing a proper welcome dinner with the whole family.
Arrangedhusband!Toji requested that you sit right next to him. When you arrive someone ushers you to your seat. He whispers quietly enough for only you to hear, "being late to a family dinner isn't a good look for ya, pretty."
"well, excuse me for getting lost like three times." you say with a roll of your eyes. Naobito clears his throat, and Toji sighs.
Arrangedhusband!Toji who mumbles "thank you for the food." so everyone could start eating. He gets a little defensive when Naobito bombards you with questions, "I hope you are settling in well, but I'll get straight to business. When do you think you'll be ready to bear a child?"
Arrangedhusband!Toji who gets ready to speak up for you but you quickly cut him off, "Not anytime soon, sir. No offense. I just met your nephew today. I did not come here to be bred like some dog. I came here to settle the dispute between our families." Everyone is shocked by your words. You just told off the former head of the clan..
Arrangedhusband!Toji is proud of you. "I agree with her." Naobito gives him a sour look before responding, "Toji, you need to get a better hold on your woman. She should have some manners."
Arrangedhusband!Toji who gets up from the table and hauls you over his shoulder. It's embarrassing to say the least but neither of you speak a word until you're far enough away.
Arrangedhusband!Toji who sets you down, a smirk prominent on his face, "That was so bad ass. No one's ever spoke to him that way."
"Really? Not even you? That's surprising, you seem like the rebellious type."
Arrangedhusband!Toji who really starts to grow on you. He follows you everywhere and he learns something new about you every day, as do you too. He never restricts your freedom and supports many of your actions.
Arrangedhusband!Toji who will even spar with you sometimes when you're looking to improve.
Arrangedhusband!Toji who feels his heart swell a little bit when you kiss him. He's never felt anything like this before, and he doesn't want to admit that he'll get used to it.
Arrangedhusband!Toji invites you to finally move into his own bedroom, since "we've been married for a few months now."
Arrangedhusband!Toji who likes seeing your stuff alongside his in his room.
Arrangedhusband!Toji feels happier than he has in years. All his family wanted to do was train him to perfection and treat 'worthless' women like shit. He didn't want any of that though. So he sees you as a blessing in disguise.
Arrangedhusband!Toji who itches to give you a baby after seeing how you are around his twin cousins. You're gentle, but you never forget to scold them when they get into trouble.
Arrangedhusband!Toji after your second year anniversary brings up the idea to you, "Not for the selfish reasons my uncle wants. Just for us. We could even live somewhere else." You two are sitting in your shared bedroom. His eyes tell no lies, "What do you mean by live somewhere else? I don't think it matters how far we go, baby. If Naobito catches wind of a potential Zenin heir he'll track us down."
Arrangedhusband!Toji who assures you he could take care of this situation, if you wanted to have a baby. He doesn't want his future child/children to have to go through the same abuse he went through.
Arrangedhusband!Toji who doesn't know that you're already a month or two pregnant.
Arrangedhusband!Toji who has one of his "friends" come get you to take you to your new home. "Toji, you should come with me. I don't think this is a good idea."
"I'll see you in a day or two. I love you, baby. Gojo, no funny business or I'll fuck you up." He threatens.
"Are you doubting me, my dear friend? I wouldn't let anything happen to your precious wife." Toji flip him off. You watch as his figure gets smaller and smaller until you can't see him anymore. (they're frenemies in this au)
Arrangedhusband!Toji who immobilizes his uncle, which takes great effort. He doesn't come out fully unscathed. He's okay, though. He's doing it for his and your future.
Arrangedhusband!Toji who utters something to Naobito before leaving the Zenin clan, "I don't ever want to see your face again, you old geezer. Don't ever come looking for me or my wife, because the next time we meet, I'll kill you."
Arrangedhusband!Toji who knocks on the door of your new apartment and is relieved to see that you're just how he left you.
You gasp at his beat up stature and you sit him down to clean him up.
"They'll never bother us again." He mutters and he sees you smile a little bit.
"I'll miss the twins," you say with a little sigh. He moves his big hand to cup your face as you are trying to wipe the blood off of his, "You've taught them plenty. I'm sure they'll follow our path and make it out of the clan sooner or later."
Arrangedhusband!Toji who is thrilled when you tell him you're pregnant.
Arrangedhusband!Toji goes to extreme lengths to protect you and you have to remind him you can still accomplish things on your own.
Arrangedhusband!Toji Husband!Toji who has both your last names changed to Fushiguro to help hide his identity. You actually debated with him about this.
"Toji, you literally just chose the first name you saw on a site of Japanese last names. We need to put thought into it."
"Oh come on baby, you gotta admit Toji Fushiguro sounds better than Toji Zenin." He never fails to find a lazy way out of things.
Husband!Toji who lets a single tear fall from his eye when he sees you cradling your little boy.
"He looks just like you." You grumble playfully and his lips quirk up into a smirk, "Eh what can I say? He got the good genes."
You fight the urge to hit him with a pillow.
Husband!Toji tells the nurse the name you two agreed on for your son, "Megumi Fushiguro."
Husband!Toji who always gets scolded by you for using bad words around your son.
"Fuck!" Megumi yells when he colors outside of the line. Your head whips around so fast and Toji looks away.
"Gumi! Don't say that. That is a very bad word." You tell him. He tilts his head to the side, "Well Dad says them."
"Does he now? I'm pretty sure Dad knows he shouldn't say those words." After a minute Toji thinks he's in the clear so he turns his head back to see you glaring at him.
"I won't do it again." He hears you mumble 'liar.'
Husband!Toji who's mad that despite his looks, his son is a complete mama's boy. "Hey kid, wanna head to the park for a little 'while?"
"Can mama come?" Your husband grunts.
"Nah, it'll just be me and you. Father and son." He says with a grin hoping to bait him.
Megumi goes back to his video he's watching. With an uninterested tone he responds, "Oh, then I don't wanna go."
He rolls his eyes and walks away, "Well whatever."
Husband!Toji who decided he wants a do over, and gives you the proper wedding you deserve.
Husband!Toji who loves you and his son very much. He couldn't have asked for anything better than this. You are his blessing.
tagging @blkkizzat bc this is her man LMAO
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cryptidghostgirl · 2 months
Text
The Love (Alastor x Reader)
Pairing: Alastor x Reader
Description: Alastor is drunk and Charlie asks him if he has ever been in love.
Warnings: I don't think there are any but correct me if I'm wrong.
Word Count: 1,323
Master Lists:
Master Lists 
Hazbin Hotel Master List
A/N Y'all, I'm lowkey dying from the requests. I'm sorry for the last five or so taking so long, I just need a little break and mix in some of my own ideas if that is okay.
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Alastor was drinking at the bar with Husk, Charlie, and Angel. The day had been a lot, seeing Mimzy was always a lot. Yes she was trouble, but Alastor loved her. He loved her for the same reason he was trying to drink himself stupid at the bar. He loved her because she reminded him of Y/n. Mimzy had been her friend first, after all.
He sat off to the side in his own little world while Angel and Charlie chatted and Husk obediently poured the drinks. Normally, Husk would have joined the pair in the mindless, mundane chatter but after the events of the day, Alastor's presence kept him silent.
"No way!" Charlie exclaimed.
She and Angel were talking about some TV show they both watched or another. A mind numbingly boring background noise but, Alastor wasn't complaining.
"Yes! They are one hundred percent perfect for each other." Angel replied animatedly.
"Literally how. Name one thing that shows they have good chemistry."
"Uh, they’re constantly at each other's throats? If that's not love, I don't know what is."
"Angel?"
"Yeah?"
"You don't know what love is."
Husk let out a short, sharp laugh as he topped off Angel's drink.
"Oh yeah? Well then, Princess, what do you think love is."
Charlie sighed, leaning her elbow on the counter as a dreamy look spread across her face.
"Love is... love is when you would do anything for the person. It's when they're your guiding star, your... your prayers answered."
"Uh, no? Love is when you want to literally kill the person but like, in a good way."
"Angel, what does that even mean." Charlie laughed.
"It means... it means there is passion. That spark everyone always talks about? It's violence."
"Hey Al!" Charlie suddenly called, leaning back in her seat to peer at Alastor behind Angel's back, "Who's right, me or Angel?"
Alastor looked up from his glass.
"I hate to say it, but neither of you are correct." he sighed in irritation at having been disturbed, "Love is neither a constant fight nor a blind devotion, though it contains aspects of both."
"Like you know anything about love, mister fancy talk creepy voice." Angel scoffed, turning to face Alastor as well now.
"Actually, I do."
Charlie's face lit up. She practically vibrated with anticipation.
"Alastor! You've been in love!?"
Normally, on a night like this, he'd be alone. He'd be careful to be alone, or at least have Husk as his only company. When he told Husk to shut up and pour, he listened. Other people, not so much.
"Yes."
Charlie had stars in her eyes. She inched closer to him.
"Are you gonna spill?" Angel asked after a moment.
"It was a long time ago."
Alastor took a long sip from his glass.
"Do you... do you not remember it?" Charlie asked, her excited smile slipping slightly at the notion
Maybe it was the drink. Maybe it was the long day, Lucifer, Mimzy, Husk. Those shark demons. Maybe it was just that secretly all along, he had wanted someone to talk to. He watched the liquor in his glass as he swirled it gently.
"It was a long time ago, but I still remember it." his smile softened as he spoke, "It's strange. I remember her laughter, her little quixotic tendencies. I remember the way her eyes would light up when she smiled and the way her perfume smelled. I know her favorite author, the way she took her coffee, the way she folded her clothes but, I can't seem to ever see her face anymore. I..."
He trailed off, taking a breath.
"You don't have to talk about it if you don't want to." Charlie quickly said, not wanting to make Alastor uncomfortable.
Alastor shook his head.
"I've spent years not talking about her. Maybe... maybe something else would be nice."
"So, how'd you guys meet?" Charlie immediately asked.
Alastor looked up at her and let out a light chuckle. He felt like he was human again for a moment. It was odd.
"I don't know if you know this about me, but I was a radio broadcaster back when I was alive. A rather famous one at that, in New Orleans at any rate. Her family ran a restaurant near the studio that I went to get lunch at from time to time. She worked there as a server."
"And she loved you?" Angel asked, "Like, you weren't just delusional?"
"I was quite the lady's man back in my day."
"Uh-huh." Angel doubtfully replied, "Sure."
"Oh hush, Angel." Charlie shoved the spider demon slightly, "Tell us more! What was she like? Did you ever get together or were you just friends? Gah! I wanna know everything!"
"She was..." Alastor's gaze fell back to his glass, "you remind me of her in a way. She was so idealistic, so driven. So... bubbly. She worked hard and she cared deeply. I don't know how I swung her, despite my charms. We were friends for about a year. The whole time, I was trying to work up the courage to ask her out but she ended up being the one to ask me. We got married when we were in our mid twenties. I only had a few years with her as my wife before I died."
Unbidden ideas darkened the edges of his mind. Y/n had always been so good, so sweet. Alastor had no idea if she had ever learned of his... escapades. He figured she must know, considering the manner in which he died but it was a horrifying thought. He was grateful when Charlie spoke again, pulling his mind back to the present.
"Thats so cute!" Charlie exclaimed, clapping her hands as she looked between Alastor and Angel, searching for similar excitement.
"Can we meet this alleged doll of yours?" Angel asked, "Cause I am really not believing any of this bullshit your spouting."
Charlie gasped, suddenly struck by inspiration.
"Do you think she would want to be redeemed?"
"Oh dear," Alastor shook his head, meeting Charlie's eyes, "she's not here."
"Then wh-"
"She's in heaven?" Angel exclaimed, "You married someone who ended up in heaven?"
"Either that or she's over a hundred years old and still on earth." Alastor weakly joked.
"I'm sorry."
Alastor shrugged, downing the rest of his drink.
"No!" Charlie insisted, "You'll... you'll never get to see her again! That's so sad!"
"And here I thought you were trying to get us redeemed." Angel scoffed.
Charlie turned to him.
"I'm trying to get you redeemed cause you're a guest. Alastor isn't a guest."
"Right you are, my dear."
"But you could do that." Charlie said turning back to Alastor, "Angel's right, if you were a guest you could be redeemed. You could see her again!"
Alastor smiled kindly at the excited demon. He patted her back.
"I'm afraid I don't think that's an option."
"But why not!" Charlie insisted, "Anyone can be redeemed, Alastor."
"That's not the issue, my dear." he sighed, "I did some things on earth that she would most certainly view as... unfavorable shall we say? Things she most certainly learned of after my death."
"You're not even gonna give it a shot?" Angel asked.
"Yeah, come on Alastor. Let us help you. You never know how it could turn out!"
"It's alright. I have the time we spent together, the memories. I don't want to taint that." he slowly, unconsciously, raised a hand to his chest, his palm over his heart, "The love is still there, thats what matters."
The quartet fell silent as Husk poured Alastor another drink. Alastor sighed, grabbing the glass and examining it carefully, but not taking a sip.
"What was her name?" Charlie asked, her voice small and her smile long gone.
"Y/n."
It had been years since he'd said it out loud. His tongue relished every syllable.
"Her name was Y/n."
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r3ynah · 3 months
Text
I Can be everything and anything, at once
A 27 years old Phantom was challenged to a bet, by his co-workers at the watchtower. Green lantern stated along with the the other heroes that If he could help every single one of them at least once in a month while not using any his powers and he also had to be physically and mentally there as he helps them. the cherry on top was that he needed to use his real identity instead of his ghost form in this mission.
If Phantom successfully conceals his civilian identity, while helping them, he gets to know everyone's deepest darkest secrets.
But if he loses, he must do everyone a favor and must keep it no matter how outrageous it is.
Ofcourse Phantom agreed, because he was no bitch, okay so maybe he is, he only accepts bets like this if he knows that'll he'll win. so yeah.
Besides, having no powers for this, is really a piece of cake, if you're a raging gender fluid that knows his way around makeup and can easily change the sound of his voice, to be honest the shapeshifting parts that he got from his powers are basically just add-ons.
Well what was he waiting for? afterall he needed all the blackmail he could get, not as Phantom but as Daniel James Fucking Fenton, this was an opportunity to go batshit crazy and he was absolutely stealing it.
The very first hero Danny approached to help was Wonder Woman, who thanked Danny who was now disguised as a woman wearing a long ass Red wig, and some clothes he "borrowed" from Jazz who just joked about Danny being her twin, and wished him luck.
"Thank you, young lady for your brave actions to help me." Wonder woman sincerely thanked the boy in disguise as she held both of Danny's hands as gratitude "may I ask the name of my savior? "
"My name's El, It's a pleasure to know you." Danny smiled a little wider.
The second was Flash, which Danny found completely amusing because of the way he helped the speedy hero, who tripped while patrolling around the city.
Danny who was now in a more gothic attire( thanks to Sam's help) caught the hero's wrist before he embarrassingly fell face first on the ground.
"You okay there sir?" Danny asked, as he kept a firm grip on the man's wrist to make sure he doesn't fall.
Meanwhile Flash who thought he was in those korea tv romance dramas only blue screened for a few seconds before finally get his shit together. "yeah- um- name's Flash, and you are?"
The hero tripped on his own words, making Danny amused as fuck. "James, it was nice to finally meet you"
Okay, about like three weeks in, and Danny managed to help almost everyone in the watchtower, and only a few more to go,( he didn't get why most of the heroes he helped either started to stutter or blue screen in their spot once they talk to him. like damn is this how all of you treat every civilian who interacts with you? that's just sad) but at this time, Dan and Elle found out, and were now demanding to join, with the excuse of basically being Danny but in alternate or clone form, which Danny had no choice but to give in, I mean he wasn't breaking any rules so technically this was alright.
Danny wanted to take a break so Dan took over this time.
currently Nightwing was observing the outside of the gala, Bruce was invited to, something about a bunch of drugs being hidden within the crowd, and was now being passed around.
He intently remained focused on his observation, while also keeping a conversation with Oracle and the others on the comms, he didn't realize that he was too far off the edge of the railing he was standing on, until he missed a step.
Nightwing would never admit that he let a quiet squeal to his siblings ever as he fell, he closed his eyes and braced for impact, he would never expect to fall into the arms of a man 3x bigger than him, he stared at the man, and the man stared at him. 'holy shit' Nightwing thought.
The man, chuckled making Nightwing internally scream. "When I wished for Desiree, to make someone from above to save me from this trash party, I didn't think it would be one of the birds of gotham, to come and fall for me let alone the handsome one."
Okay Nightwing was now full on red from blushing, he was put down gently by the man on the ground, before offering a handshake, once Nightwing accepted the handshake, Dan pulled the hand closer to his mouth then gave a quick peck on the back of the hand vigilante's hand. "My name's Dan Masters, it's a pleasure to meet you."
his siblings can eat dirt on how they were teasing Nightwing Right now, but this was fucking worth it.
And the last to have gotten help from Danny was John Constantine, Danny actually had a reason on why he saved John for last, and that's because John actually knows Danny's identity, so for this mission he asked the help of his daughter Elle.
Elle had helped John by fixing a ruined summoning circle, who also helped him negotiate with a demon, and somehow all day, Elle just stuck to Constatine's side, her explanation? 'He'll die without me' fair point John thought as he took the kid, to order ice cream and to hangout in the park.
"You know kid, you remind me of someone." Constantine stated while keeping his eyes on what's infront of him, which was just a bunch of trees.
Elle who sat next to him, still eating her Ice cream looked up at him and said. "Really?"
"Yeah like you two literally have the same aura and all just a little different, but I don't know who yet." He replied and ruffled the kid's hair. making the girl laugh.
"Hey John!" Danny greeted behind them, and then all the gears inside of Constantine's head began to work. he let out a groan as he realized the girl beside him was the clone of the man behind him, well he needed to kiss that secret of his goodbye. here on this spot right now or he'll die of embarrassment if he waited any longer.
"Danny, let's go on a date." Constantine stated, not facing the Man.
this comment made the Father and Daughter choke on literal air.
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