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#no one else in here appears enough 2 tag
wildtornado-o · 2 months
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Textposts part whatever lol
Kofi <3
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immajustvibehere · 7 months
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Touch Starved Arthur x fem!touchy Reader (Part 2)
Pairing: hh!Arthur Morgan x fem!Reader (fluffly)
Part1 here!
summary: Arthur takes you and Jack out camping for two nights. Both of you have to battle your feelings for each other until you finally....
warnings: one bed trope, fluff, domestic bliss
6000 words
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In the manner of Arthur’s approach, you knew he was up to something. His big hands rested on his gun belt, his expression was casual. His attempt to appear relaxed was almost perfect. You weren’t fooled so easily, though. By the smug grin that started to appear on your face as Arthur came closer, he understood that you had sensed his unease from a mile away. Your intuition was exceptional, and Arthur silently cursed himself for his own transparency. And suddenly, there were his subtle tells…the scratching of his neck, the scrunching of his nose, the restlessness of his fingers caressing the leather of the belt.
"Hey, what's up?", you asked and propped your head up with your elbow resting on the table.
"Uhm...I have a proposition to make", Arthur awkwardly sat down at the table. Thankfully, barely anyone else was around to witness this encounter. The sun hadn’t risen yet and people were only slowly crawling out of their beds. In fact, Arthur still saw the remnants of sleep in your features but the steaming mug of coffee in front of you suggested that you were diligently combating it.
"I'm all ears."
Arthur couldn’t help but detect the playful undertone in your voice. You had grown more comfortable around each other the last few days and weeks and some banter and teasing were commonplace by now, particularly in the presence of others. But when you found yourselves alone, which hadn’t really happened since last time, you’d feel like there was a more genuine connection and care for each other than either of you would normally let on.
"Ya can say no if ya don't want to but-...well, I already talked to Abigail. She said she was fine with it", Arthur started. You had no clue what he was on about, but he pressed on, "I suggested we take out Jack for a night or two. The boy needs to see something aside this patch of land and I thought...if you would wanna tag along? You know, I was fine fishing with him but I'm not sure if I'd be any good at the other stuff."
"Yes, of course", you immediately replied. Arthur wasn't sure why he had expected a rejection or a dismissal that he was stupid to suggest such a thing. You actually looked pleasantly surprised about the idea.
You smiled: "It's not just Jack, you know? I haven't left camp since we moved here, so I'll get to see some of the country too!"
"Okay, sure", Arthur said, still somewhat in surprise about what you had just agreed to. But his surprise soon gave way to a sense of anticipation, especially when he noticed enthusiasm. He couldn’t supress a warm chuckle, evidently relieved that everything had worked out.
You briefly discussed the logistics, and Arthur settled on a plan: a night between Dewberry Creek and Ringneck Creek for the first stop, followed by, if Jack was up for it, a night in a room at the Rhodes Saloon.
The following day, you were all packed up. Your horse carried a rolled-up tent, large enough to accommodate the three of you. Jack rode with Arthur, he was the experienced rider after all and would be much greater use in keeping the child from sliding off the horse. It was a fine day, the morning sun was veiled behind some clouds, offering a respite from the usual stifling heat. Rain wasn’t to be expected, the clouds looked like they would clear sooner or later.
For the ride, Jack was dead silent for ten minutes at a time but then asked any question he could come up with. Arthur appreciated your willingness to respond, particularly when faced with Jack’s more challenging inquiries that needed to be tailored for a child’s understanding. Arthur was outright impressed at your skill in addressing his questions, and kept silent, even if Jack wanted his view on something specifically.
It was a smooth ride. Once you had passed the first creek you kept looking for an ideal spot to build your camp. You watched happily how Arthur pretended to discuss the area with Jack, granting him the final say in where to put up the tent. Arthur was responsible for the tent while you went off with Jack to look for firewood. When you returned, the tent had been putt up and Arthur had already gotten out the fishing gear.
"Are we fishing again?", Jack asked with curiously.
"Well, we gotta eat something", Arthur answered.
"But fishing's boring!" Jack said back and Arthur chuckled warmly. The last time he took the boy fishing, it was anything but uneventful, though he understood that a four-year-old wasn't so keen on standing still and waiting.
You squatted in front of Jack: "Why don't you take your toys with you to the water? You can play and Arthur and I'll do the boring waiting."
"Mh, okay."
You walked over to Ringneck Creek. Arthur settled on the same spot he had been to while fishing with Javier a while back. It had a good overlook of the place, so Jack could play in the distance, while still being in eye- and earshot. You and Arthur sat down next to each other, not saying anything and prepping the fishing rod. Even when there were no words exchanges, both of you felt comfortable in each other’s presence. Arthur felt your eyes on him as he pierced a tiny bit of cheese through the hook and handed the rod to you.
“The fish get cheese for lunch? That’s mighty fine, don’t you think?”, you joked.
“This cheese? It has been mouldy for days now. It won’t do us any good. But for fish? The stinker, the better”, Arthur explained and added in a mumble, “Or so I’ve heard…”
You both threw out your line and before you quipped: “So you keep your mouldy cheese in your satchel with the rest of your food?”
Arthur watched the rings expanding around his line, then swallowed quickly before looking you in the eye. Not very convinced he answered: “No…?”
He had expected a lesson on proper food hygiene, but you only grinned cheekily: “Glad I took care of food for this trip. But you really shouldn’t do that, you know? Next time you leave camp for more than a day, I’ll pack you something.”
“Ya don’t have to do that, really”, Arthur replied out of politeness, but the idea of you walking up to him with a sandwich to take on his journeys sent tingles to his chest.
“Mh. I insist”, you said, “I’ll have to take care of you if your stomach goes mad, so I’d rather prevent that. Not that I wouldn’t like to take care of you. Don’t you never keep an injury or sickness a secret in front of me, got it?”
“Yes ma’am”, Arthur said, “You sound like Miss Grimshaw, it’s good yer away from camp for a while”, Arthur joked. Deep down, he knew that you didn’t want to control him, but that you sincerely cared for his well-being. Something Arthur couldn’t quite understand. Of course, he would do the same for you – but that’s different because he had already figured out that he liked your attention more than anyone else. No, that he liked you more than anyone else. Arthur got a little lost in his own thoughts. He wasn’t yet entirely sure about his feelings for you. Mainly because he wasn’t sure how you felt. You were so kind and caring for everyone in the gang, he sadly doubted that he was anything special.
“I missed spending some time with you. Sorry that it’s so hard to sneak away from camp”, you said after a while, bringing Arthur back to reality.
“Doesn’t matter”, Arthur mumbled. He was embarrassed that he felt his cheeks getting warm, “We got away now, didn’t we? I feel almost bad that I take up so much of yer time.”
“Please don’t”, you laughed, looking at the man next to you with a smile.
“I think I saw Sean shed a tear when he heard that you’d be away from camp for two days”, Arthur mentioned.
“Yeah. I think he’s sweet on me”, you said so casually, that Arthur was caught off guard, staring at you in disbelieve.
Arthur cleared his throat before he slowly said: “I thought he and Karen…?”
“Well, Karen is good for one thing”, you said with an ambiguous smile, not meaning serious offence with those words, “I’m good for another.”
From the distance, you heard Jack calling for ‘uncle Arthur’. Arthur sighed with a smile and handed you his finishing rod.
“Yer okay to watch that?”, he asked.
“Sure, go ahead”, you encouraged him.
Jack wanted Arthur’s help to balance on a dead tree. It was wholesome to see how Arthur helped him up on the trunk and then held his hand so he would have an easier time balancing. Then the boy would sit on Arthur’s shoulders and break a smooth looking branch from a tree, using it to play swords fighting with Arthur. You knew that Arthur was gentle with Jack and compared to some men in the gang, even to John if you were honest, he was doing a great job. Still, you hadn’t dreamt that he'd be ready to take on a whole swords fight, pretending to get stabbed when Jack’s twig poked his leg. You noticed Arthur’s stolen glances in your direction. It was as if he wanted to make sure you were watching, though you didn’t have the impression that he only played along to impress you. Arthur seemed to genuinely enjoy it.
“Caught anything yet?”, Arthur’s voice woke you up from your daydreams when he walked up to you after a while.
“No…”, you answered and admitted, “I was a little distracted.”
“Ain’t blamin’ ya. We gave you a hell of a show”, Arthur said and took his spot next to you again. Luckily, a few fish bit later on and by the time you walked back to your tent, a fire could be built and the fish were grilled. A lot of time had passed, and the sun was already low in the sky. Jack demanded to be read to from his favourite book. After you had read a few pages and Jack had settled in to listen to some more, you handed the book to Arthur. He had been busy with stoking the fire and cleaning the grit, so he was a little caught off guard by the action.
“What am I supposed to do with that?”, he asked.
“Read to the boy”, you answered with a grin.
“Why can’t you?”, Arthur asked, his eyebrows raised in wonder.
“My throat is starting to feel sore”, you lied so obviously, that even Jack could have seen through it, “besides; I want someone to read to me too.”
Arthur considered the situation for a moment before giving in. The last time he read a book to someone…well, he wasn’t sure. Was it to Jamie when he was still a little boy or to Isaac? Did he ever even read out to Isaac? Arthur was prompted into opening the book when you suddenly snuggled up to him. But that alone made him lose his voice for a moment, so he had to collect himself before starting to read.
You loved how raspy Arthur’s voice would get when he was nervous, but it soon smoothed out and he had barely read for ten minutes when you had to stop him, because Jack had fallen asleep.
“’s barely even dark…”, Arthur commented after he had carried the boy to his bedroll in the tent.
“He did have an eventful day”, you said, and Arthur had to agree. The bottle of whiskey Arthur had brought was soon opened up and half was gone by the time you could make out the first stars in the sky. A lot of your conversation was just recollecting the day or commenting on happenings on the last few days, but after some silence, Arthur started a new conversation.
"Maybe, if ya told me what the other men ask you to do, I'd feel less a fool for asking ya fer something", Arthur suggested. The undertone of his voice revealed curiosity, but he had tried to keep that intent hidden. You were surprised that he remembered what you had talked about the last time it was just the two of us.
"You're unbelievable!", you exclaimed and giggled so light-heartedly. Arthur's heart melted when he saw the crinkles around your eyes. "You just want the gang's gossip!", you accused him.
"No! I'm just sayin'", Arthur shrugged with a smile, "It would really help a lot."
You looked at him, his blue-greenish eyes staring right back at you. You were an avid eye-contact holder, it was required for your role in the gang. But no pair of eyes ever compared to Arthur's. It was his turn to catch your gaze wandering to his lips, he also noticed how your eyes fluttered, when they looked up again, and then briefly away, as if you considered something.
"Fine. I'll tell you some. But I won't tell you who asked me for what."
"Sure."
"Mhhh...it's not the craziest stuff, if you’re expecting that. Most men like when I play with their hair. Or head scratches. I told you I was good at them! Someone likes it when I feed them. Like...you know...we go pick some berries and I feed them. It can be really,...domestic, I suppose. But then it becomes a lot of fun because we try to throw the berries into each other mouths, trying to catch them. It’s great..."
You got slightly embarrassed. When you spend time with other men from the gang, you always tried to give them an experience that made them happy. Some of it was oddly intimate. It didn't bother you much, but now, speaking about it with Arthur, you somehow started to worry that you'd be worth less in his eyes. Just because you have done those things with his friends. It wasn't like you slept with them. No, none, with very few exceptional instances, have ever been inappropriate.
You were silent for a while, those thoughts taking over quickly. And yet, what should it matter? It’s just Arthur, it was okay if he knew that side of you.
You sighed deeply, still finding Arthur’s eyes glued to your lips.
"Some of them like to show off to me. It's real stupid stuff. Like 'look how quick I can draw' or 'check out this piece of wood I whittled'. I suppose these are just things they are mildly proud at...but embarrassed to show someone. I...like that, though. It's really cute and reveals something about the person. There is always something to praise or enjoy about it. And they really appreciate it."
Arthur stared into the fire, nodding his head slowly.
After a while, he started with: "I ehrm-..." Then he pulled out his journal.
"It's nothing special either...", he flipped through some pages, only to reveal a double-sided sketch of Clemen's Point. A beautiful sketch, well-observed with depth and detail. You knew Arthur kept a journal – you never knew he drew in it! And from all the sketches the other men had ever shown you, most of them could have been done better by Jack, this was honestly impressive.
"Arthur-"
"I know, 's silly", and he was about to close the journal when you snatched it out of his hand and placed it in your lap. Not daring to flip the page but studying the sketch in front of you.
"Are you kidding? It's fucking amazing."
When Arthur looked at you in disbelieve, you doubled down: "Fuck you, man. I can't even pick out things I like to praise because the whole damn thing's just-!"
"Yer teasing me..."
"Am not! When someone shows me a drawing, I often have to guess, like ‘Oh, that’s a nice bison you drew.’ And then they correct me and go like ‘It’s supposed to be a dog.’ and we have a good laugh about it…but this…Is that Dutch's horse?", you asked, pointing at the little white stallion. Arthur confirmed it. You started to point at things, accurately identifying what it was. John's tent, the chicken coop, even the figure in the distance, that only was a vague outline of a person, you identified as if you had been there when it was drawn.
"You have more drawings in there?", you asked.
"Sure. But- wait", he took the journal back, carefully skipping the pages where he had sketched you, which had happened suspiciously often recently, and only showing you the landscapes and animals. You never expected that Arthur had an eye for things like that. A doe was captured perfectly in its shy manner. A funny looking cabin, a crooked tree. For all those things, Arthur stopped and took his time to draw them. It was stunning. You felt like he had given you a better idea of what sort of a man he actually is. To say you liked that version of him, was an understatement and you started to realise this with every sketch of ducks or fish he presented to you.
"When you find someone, someone you really like. And start a family...you could draw and sell those pictures, you know?"
Arthur was shocked. Firstly, why you knew about his wish to start a family, and secondly, that you suggested his drawings are nearly good enough for anyone to pay money for.
"Y/n", Arthur lamented, almost with a painful voice. As if you were that naive girl that had no idea about how life works. That there could never be a family for him, never a different life than shooting and robbing to get to some money.
"Have you ever painted? Like with colour and a paintbrush?", you interrupted.
"Ain't worth it. I'd be no good with colour. And it's too expensive."
"When's your birthday?", you asked out of the blue. You were determined. If you had to work your ass off for it or drop to your knees in front of Miss Grimshaw, you'd get this man a paintbrush.
"No", Arthur said firmly.
"Come on!", you quipped.
"Stop it. It's just a stupid thing I do to pass some time it ain't-"
"But I love them!", you interrupted, "I really do. Every single one you showed me."
"Clearly, something ain’t right in your head then", Arthur joked and put his journal away.
"You are a charming man, Mr. Morgan," you teased back, bumping into his shoulder.
As if your words had confirmed Arthur's accusation, he comically tapped your forehead with his index finger: "Really messed up, aren't you?"
"Why?", you said, switching gears and skilfully capturing Arthur's finger that had went for another tap. It took both of your hands to open Arthur's hand, not that he resisted, but his hands were huge. And with your guidance, Arthur's hand cupped your cheek. "Is it because I like to spend time with you? Do you think one has to be mad to enjoy that? Because if you do think that...I have to give you ten reasons why you are wrong."
Arthur barely listened to your words. His senses were hyper focused on his hand which was touching your cheek. Warm and soft. Not smooth like a perfect hide, but skin isn't perfect. Hell, his hand must be mighty uncomfortable. It was calloused, beaten up, scarred. There was no rational reason why you would snuggle your face into it like it was a pillow you readied for a night's sleep.
With pleasure you watched how often he blinked, how flustered he became, how his hand twitched in excitement under your touch. As careful as you were some butterfly, Arthur’s thumb dared to caress your cheek. The movement was so small, it was like he didn’t even want you to notice that you he had dared to do that. Somehow, this rough and hardened outlaw was a real sensitive guy. A sensitive guy who made your stomach flutter.
"I'll head to bed and join Jack, you coming too?", you asked, guiding Arthur's hand into your lap and holding in lightly with your two hands.
"Imma...t-take care of the fire a little longer", Arthur answered with coarse voice, his throat entirely dried up.
"M'kay", you smiled and stood up without letting go of Arthur's hand. Halfway in the process of standing up you halted, pressing a light kiss on Arthur's cheek and whispered good night, before finally letting go and walking off to the tent.
Though you were exhausted, it was tricky to sleep. You listened to Arthur who was still attending the fire, walking up and down, whispering to the horses and occasionally took a swig from the bottle. Jack slept at the side of the tent, you had taken the spot in the middle. No matter how long it felt until sleep finally took over, Arthur crawled into the tent ten minutes later, only to find out that you had messed with the sleeping set-up. It wasn’t the way he had arranged it, namely, a very inequal distribution of blankets and ‘pillows’ (rolled-up jackets or other garments). Arthur had planned to spend the night without a blanket, so you and Jack had two. But you had given up one of yours, which neatly waited on Arthur’s bedroll for him.
“She ain’t gonna make this easy for me”, Arthur thought, before lying down.
-
“Uncle Arthur!”, Jack squatted next to the man who was still fast asleep. Well, until the boy started to shake him with all his might, though it barely rattled the man.
“Aunt y/n told me to wake you”, Jack smiled innocently. Arthur was trying to grasp the situation. For a fleeting moment, he thought there was danger nearby. Then he had been confused about why Jack was there. Only slowly, as Jack left the tent and the rays of sunshine hit his face, he remembered that he had went out camping with you and the boy. And clearly, he had overslept.
Arthur crawled out of the tent and stood up with a groan, stretching his tired limbs. The smell of coffee had reached his nose before he looked down to see Jack walking towards him, a half-filled cup in his hands.
“For you”, he exclaimed. Arthur took the mug and mumbled his thanks, looking up a little to finally lay eyes on you. The fire was on, the percolator boiling with water, and he saw that you were in the process of readying a little pan for some eggs you had apparently taken from camp.
“Good morning”, you said with a big smile.
“Sorry I overslept…”, Arthur grumbled, sitting down by the fire.
“Nothing to be sorry for. I’m glad you could catch up on some sleep.”
Breakfast was nice. You scrambled some eggs, garmented them with herbs you had collected earlier and re-filled Arthur’s mug. Jack was happy after eating a few bites and then playing with his toys in the distance. Arthur and you discussed the rest of the day and decided you would take your time, see if Jack was up for a ride and a stroll through Rhodes and spending another night at the Saloon.
Later, Jack helped you with washing the dishes at the creek. You managed to talk him into throwing a wet rag at Arthur, which he answered by throwing the rag back at you. This started a game of dogde or catch the rag. You laughed a lot. By mid-day you were on your horses, carefully navigating the shadows to escape the relentless sun. After one very slow hour of riding, with breaks whenever Jack discovered something interesting on the ground that needed further investigation, you arrived in Rhodes. After restocking on groceries, you made your way to the saloon, finding it relatively quiet and peaceful still.
“Can I help you, folks?”, the bartender asked, leaning on the counter.
“A room, please”, Arthur stated briefly. The bartender considered you for a moment, his eyes wandered from Arthur to you and finally your hand that rested protectively on Jack’s shoulder.
“We have a special deal for families. Spacious room, enough beds and a discount on a bath”, the bartender explained, opening the ledger where he kept track of which rooms were taken.
“Sounds great!”, you chimed in happily before Arthur could do as much as open his mouth.
“There you go. Walk up the stairs behind there, first door on the right”, the bartender handed you the keys, “Just let me know when you want the water heated up.”
“Will do, thanks!”, you answered. Your free arm was quickly intertwined with Arthur, who was taken by surprise. He stiffened a little but walked off with you and Jack rather convincingly.
“Whoa! This bed is huge!”, exclaimed Jack when you walked into the room.
“Ain’t for you though, little man”, Arthur chuckled. The room was equipped with a bed that was big enough to fit a couple and a toddler, but there was still a children-sized one in the corner. Arthur noticed how your arm slipped away from his as you entered the room, dropping some of your luggage onto the floor.
“Luxurious, isn’t it?”, you smiled. It was definitely better than the rooms you’d get in Valentine and probably even cleaner than the other ones the saloon had to offer. Jack was settling in, testing how bouncy his mattress was and unpacking his toys while Arthur walked up to you, clearing his throat.
“Yer fine with sharin’ a bed?”, he asked.
You raised an eyebrow: “We shared a tent last night, and that was a much tighter fit, wouldn’t you say so?”
“I guess…”, Arthur felt a little helpless. Sharing a bed felt more domestic and intimate than sharing the same tent. Also, Jack wouldn’t be all snuggled up to you, but in his own bed at some distance. Frankly, Arthur was excited. You watched his frown, not quite sure if its origin was because of discomfort or simple nervosity.
“Are you okay with that? I could bring my bedroll and-“, you wanted to suggest, but Arthur was quick to interrupt you: “I just didn’t know if you were fine with it. I don’t want ya to feel uncomfortable.”
“Don’t worry about me”, you smiled, “I’ll go down and ask for a bath. Abigail will be glad I we bring the boy back cleaner than he was before.”
Arthur was alone in the room for nearly an hour, before you and Jack appeared with damp hair, smelling of soap. It was decided that Arthur would also make use of the warmed-up water, and as he went off to the bathroom, you and Jack set your plan in motion.
By the time Arthur returned he was met with a sight that initially puzzled him. The two of you had transformed the little corner with Jack’s bed using the limited resources available to you, creating a makeshift fort out of pillows and blankets. Jack’s small bed had been turned into a cozy cave of sorts, sheltered from the outside world to the point where you needed a lantern to read a book within.
Arthur didn’t even see you at first, he only heard Jack’s bubbly giggle and you shushing him. For a moment, he wasn’t sure if he was supposed to play along and pretend that he didn’t know where you were…like some sort of hide-and-seek. But he decided against it, instead sighing happily, and sitting down on the big bed.
“I can hear ya, ya know?”, he said gently.
“No you can’t!”, Jack said back.
“Should have built it bigger, doesn’t look like I’ll fit underneath there”, Arthur commented. Now, you peeked out. Arthur saw how you opened a mouth, but something stopped you for a moment. His hair was wet and slicked back. He hadn’t even bothered putting on his shirt, but instead only wore his pants and union suit underneath. Hell, he hadn’t even bothered to button it all the way up. It hugged his muscles perfectly. You knew he was in good shape, but you hadn’t expected THIS.
“Shouldn’t have grown so big then”, you finally said, a fine blush on your cheeks.
As the evening advanced, you had read several chapters to Jack, lulling him into slumber. You then quietly slipped into the bed beside Arthur. After some casual conversation which both of you skilfully and awkwardly used to get closer to each other, Arthur asked something that had been on his mind for a while: "What do you get out of it? All the nurturing and caring for everyone in the gang? Has any one of them ever done right by you?"
"Well...I have a place to stay and sleep. I don't have to worry too much about earning money. And I like making others happy."
Arthur didn't like that. A place to sleep and food, he felt like, shouldn't be things you had to earn by listening to the complaints of others all the time.
"All you get is hearing the troubles of some dirty, foolish outlaws. Ain’t really a life, is it?"
"Some make me happy too", you admitted, quietly. You realised how Arthur tensed up slightly.
"I get to know y'all. Don't you think that's a privilege? For a woman my age? Others can't simply walk around in the street, offer some hand-holding a listenin' and expect this to pay for their meals."
"You want to do this for the rest if your life?", Arthur asked. You scanned his body, focusing on the dark hair that grew on his chest.
"No", you whispered, and gently, you put your hand on his chest. You felt his heart, no, you saw how it beat, the skin of his chest swiftly moving in an up and down movement.
Arthur...was different than the others. You didn't know if it was that there was an actual difference, or if it just felt differently. But the way he treated you, the way he held you...it was so gentle. Like it was touch meant for a lifetime. The others were slightly more prudish, because they knew they had a couple of hours with you and maybe they'd be shot and die the next day. Somehow...not Arthur. When he pulled you closer into a hug, it was always the same, as if it was a welcome back, a coming home. There was no holding onto it, because he sorts of knew you would always be there. And you wanted it to be like that too. Because you, as tricky it was to admit, had feelings for this man.
Now it was you who caught Arthur staring, staring at the unsure movements your lips made as you searched for something to say. Maybe to explain what this all meant to you.
"Do you think it's ridiculous, what I do?", you asked. You wanted to know Arthur's opinion, truly.
"What? No."
"Really?"
"Hell, we'd be a bunch of degenerates if ya didn't keep us together. Yer ignoring Micah. For good reasons, I gotta say, and look what a slimy no-good he is. We'd be all like that if it wasn't for you", Arthur said. There was humour in his voice, but he meant what he had said. You smiled slightly.
"I wish I had come to you earlier", Arthur said.
"We are making up for the lost time, aren't we?", you said and leaned into him. The gesture seemed so familiar that Arthur wrapped his arms around you with barely any thought. Arthur watched your fingers as they trailed through his hair on his chest, never resting somewhere for long but tracing lines from his collar bones to where his beard started on his neck.
“Do you mind?”, you whispered, your fingers resting on a button of his suit.
Arthur subtly shook his head and watched how you unbuttoned one button after another. You had him slip out of the sleeves so the suit could be pulled further down, now exposing his entire abdomen to you.
There was no way he could hide his hitched breath. Your touch tickled pleasantly as your fingers explored his skin. He was enjoying those careful attentions, you'd trace around bruises and old scars, Arthur was focused on how it felt differently, the abused flesh and the scar tissue that had lost sensitivity. He noticed, either for the first time ever, or he had forgotten in the meantime, how ticklish he was on his side, under the ribs. He had no urge to laugh, but his body reacted to your touch differently, squirming when your skin brushed over his. Arthur noticed that you took a liking to those reactions, because he felt the corner of your mouth, which was pressed into his arm as you leaned into him, curl into a smile.
It was quiet. Sometimes the yells of a bar fight could be heard or someone hammering on the piano, but that aside, it was only Jack's silent snores that disturbed the peace.
"Arthur?", you whispered and sat up.
"Mhm?", Arthur looked sleepy. It wasn't even that late yet, but something about the situation was making him sleepy in the best way. You said nothing more. You only put your hand on his cheek, briefly caressing his stubble.
"Would it be okay if I kissed you?", you asked.
For a few moments, Arthur's mind went completely blank. He only breathed a shaky "Yeah" and your lips brushed his already.
Instantly, Arthur's hands pulled you in closer. You were close, lips brushing, breathing each other's air. It was all you needed, before both of you finally pressed into each other.
You knew Arthur was gentle, but this sort of tenderness took even you by surprise. And Arthur- well, he was pretty sure he was dreaming. When was the last time he had kissed a woman? No, when was the last time he kissed a woman and felt like his heart was about to explode in his chest. He had craved this ever since the night you spent together. And by the way your hands wandered to his hair, fingers running through his strands, he knew you had wanted it just as much.
It was a soft kiss and both of you looked sort of surprised when it had ended. Arthur sat up slightly and pulled you on his lap, which earned him a happy grin. You started to pepper the man in front of you with kisses. Super light, as if a breeze was brushing his forehead, his cheek, his nose, under his ear, the corner of his lips. You had lost count, stirred on by a blushing Arthur underneath you.
"D-don't ya think that's enough?", Arthur said, kind of trying to dodge your kisses, but not really.
"Nope. You deserve this!", you said, but when you headed for his nose, Arthur managed to turn it into a proper kiss again.
Then you sank on his chest, lying on top of him with his arms wrapped around you.
For Arthur, this was a weird feeling at first. But he loved how your weight pressed him down into the mattress and how your hands always found a piece of his body to caress and tickle. He was embarrassed about how dry his mouth and throat became again, all of a sudden. He was convinced you realized how often he had to swallow and how hesitant he still was to move his hands any further down than the small of your back. Though if you noticed, you were very understanding. You clearly heard his heart hammering in his chest and waited patiently for it to calm down before speaking again.
"Can I tell you something silly?”, you said, lost in thoughts.
"Sure"
"I liked it when the bartender referred to us as family."
"Me too", and his hold on you became ever so tighter.
-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-
@eyelovie @t3rritorial-piss1ngs @daenerysluvrr @cookiesandcreaminthetardis @tem60 @freshoutthewomb2 @itswormtrain @ineedyoubadly @lea-khena @anawkwardartistandgamer @pheesupremacy @tahitiansiguesss @c2ss1e @alyxhasonsocks @kagemaruzest69 @agaritas @lonesome-ranger @joelmillers-gf
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stsgluver · 4 months
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synopsis. zenin naoya and his lack of respect for women. [part of the dynasty series]
wc. 970
tags/warnings. rich boy!gojo, idk what else, zenin naoya exists, established relationship
a/n. i switch between present and past (like five mins prior) throughout BUT IF IT DOESN'T MAKE SENSE PLS LET ME KNOW. this has been sat in drafts for 2 months.
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“i wouldn’t have stopped you from punching him.”
gojo scoffed, pushing his hands through his hair frustratedly. the two of you sat together on the cold stone steps outside of some large historic building. 
“i don’t think i would’ve stopped,” he let out a ragged breath and you rested one of your hands on his knee. his fingers naturally came to intertwine with yours and you think you saw his shoulders relax ever so slightly at the contact.
a silence settled between you, but it wasn't an awkward one. your boyfriend was reliving the last hour and you were doing your best to try and forget it.
“is he always like that?” you asked quietly. the he in question being zen’in naoya. 
this was the first event that you had attended with gojo, and the first event gojo had ever attended with an actual date. he’d always turned down all of the girls his father offered to him (the children of other tech ceo’s that his father was encouraging him to get close to only for the benefit of his own bank account) and he’d never had a real girlfriend to bring prior to you.
“unfortunately,” he hummed quietly, brushing his thumb over your knuckles lightly. you shivered from the cool breeze and dared to shuffle closer to him. 
you’d experienced many sides of gojo since you’d begun your relationship, but never had you seen him so irritated that he couldn’t verbally communicate it. he was the one who annoyed people to the brink of insanity, with his cocky remarks and over-the-top, excitable behaviour. few people had ever tried to one up him, and even fewer were successful in managing to get under his skin.
zenin naoya, though, loved the challenge.
“do you think your dad will mind if we’re out here?” you asked tentatively. gojo’s hand reflexively tightened briefly around yours at the mention of his father, his jaw clenching. 
several minutes after gojo had led you inside the elegant infrastructure (to say you were getting imposter syndrome was an understatement), he’d left you by a confectionery stand in search of geto. according to him, you looked ‘too pretty’ and he didn’t want your dress to be ruined in the crowds. in other words, the less you mingled, the less likely you’d be harassed by his father’s rich peers – he’d already ‘accidentally’ knocked one drink over onto a woman who dared to hiss the word ‘gold digger’ under her breath as you passed.
it had to have been less than thirty seconds before the zenin appeared by your side, a sickening smirk on his twisted face. you knew who he was, you’d seen him once or twice around campus and you’d heard the stories, but you’d never been this close to him; not close enough to breath in the expensive cologne that smellt cheap.
“probably,” he clicked his tongue, tilting his head back to look up at the night sky.  “i’m sorry, i shouldn’t have brought you here.”
you nudged his shoulder gently, “i wanted to come.”
a mistake on both of your behalf – though neither of you could have predicted that naoya would try and make a scene when you rejected his advances.
"you two alright?" 
both of you turned your heads back to see geto coming down the stairs towards you with a little skip in his step.
once naoya had your attention he wasted no time getting to his point – bigging up his status and telling you how gojo’s dad was doubting gojo’s position in the company. if you wanted a real man, in his words, you needed him. 
obviously, you’d given him a disgusted look without much thought and denied the offer, taking a step back to try and find your tall, white haired boyfriend in the crowd (an oddly difficult task). you figured you were safer weaving through a crowd of high society snobs than you were spending another minute here. naoya, though, was persistent and didn’t hesitate to pull you back towards him with a harsh grip.
"just trying not to bash that zen'in's skull in," gojo muttered as he gently traced the red marks on your wrist. it looked worse than it felt – the pain had dissipated pretty quickly once you’d broken from naoya’s hold.
"i could get on board with that," the dark haired male dropped down next to you on the stairs, stretching out his legs and smoothing down his pants.
"geto.” 
you figured out pretty quickly that gojo and geto were a package deal. best friends since diapers and equally as resentful to their parents’ ways of life and the pretence they’ve been raised in. two sides of the same coin, both of which willing to go extraordinary lengths for the other with no regard for consequences.
such as the jail time that would come with the aggravated assault of naoya.
though you would give it to geto – when gojo and him got to you and naoya, it was him who was ushering gojo to just take you outside, not to engage with the spoiled man child. 
“geto,” geto mocked you with a grin, shrugging carelessly, "the kid’s an ass. he’s got it coming."
there was no more than a second until geto spoke up again, with an idea you were sure he’d had from the beginning of the night, his plans had just been accelerated: “shoko’s house is free now. her parents are away so she wasn’t forced to attend this bullshit,”
gojo’s head perked up at this, looking above your head at his best friend, “you think she’ll have the stuff for a smoke?”
“it’s ieiri,” you said in a ‘duh’ tone because when was she not smoking something. how she was top of her classes, you’d never know.
“god bless that girl,” geto blew a kiss to the sky.
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taglist. @hyori2 @ja-zz @animeflower26 @jar-03
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dtrghost · 11 months
Note
please.....one shot of flirty ghost with fem!reader...
flirty ghost... 😫
thank you for the request!!
pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley x bartender fem!reader
synopsis: Price invites the team out to a night at a renowned club in London after a job well done. Team 141 watches in surprise as Simon flirts with the hot bartender ;). I made simon rich, because I find rich guys hot, so yeah. a bit sub!ghost because he'd do anything for a girl like you.
warnings: allusions to smut (dirty ghost), flirty (probably ooc) ghost, alcohol, pining, hints at sex and arousal, etc.
part 2
MINORS DO NOT INTERACT:
(gif's not mine)
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The strong reek of alcohol brought a sigh of relief to the team, watching a variety of people mingle and chat as they maneuvered through the crowd. Team 141 had a rough month filled with death, pain, and shitty drinks which consisted of mostly tap water or anything else they could find that wouldn't kill them. So as a treat for their success, their Captain suggested a night out in London, more specifically in a bar that he had visited with Laswell and some colleagues in the past.
"Alright gentlemen. This isn't your average pub so, behave will ya. I'm not draggin' your arses outta here tonight." He spoke, adjusting his button up shirt with a look shot at Johnny who gave him a mock offended look. Simon rolled his eyes, looking around and ignoring the weird glances at him for the mask he wore. He didn't see the point. He'd much rather drink whiskey on his couch with a shit black and white film rather than waste his money on unnecessarily expensive drinks that'll taste just the same.
But he was there, and he was dying for the liquid gold of a nice drink after the hell he endured for the last month. He strayed from the group, making his way to the bar and taking a seat. His eyes scanned over the brands on display behind the counter.
"Fuckin' hell." He muttered to himself, catching the attention of the bartender who just chuckled. A shiver ran up his spine from the sound as a woman appeared in front of him.
"Take it this is your first time, haven't seen you around before." You started, his eyes widening slightly at you. Your voice was smooth, he thought. Your American accent differed from the various European ones that flooded the room around him.
You took his appearance in with a slight raise of your eyebrow. He wore a black button up that hugged his muscular and beefy frame, the fabric straining as his arms tensed. You noticed the dog tags that hung out as he leaned on the counter, his face entirely covered by the skull mask he wore.
"Yeah, first time." You hummed, gesturing back to the bottles behind you. You glanced behind him, watching as other men that you recognized as regulars seemed to divert their usual tactics away from you tonight, focusing on other women around who'd leave them high and dry all the same. It didn't surprise you, the sheer size of the man in front of you was enough to intimidate anyone. Nobody sat next to him, his presence practically demanding his own space as others squeezed in between people two seats away on both sides to avoid being next to him.
"What can I get for you..." You trailed off, gesturing for a name to put to his masked face. He was usually cautious about who he gave his name to, years of paranoia to thank for that. But this was just one night, and he'd like never see you again.
Damn it to hell.
"Simon. Simon Riley. I'll take the Macallan, the bottle and a glass with no ice." Your eyebrows jumped in surprise, looking at him a bit unsure about how much military made in general. You only had one bottle of Macallan whiskey that night, and it was not cheap.
"Uhh.. that's Macallan No.6. £6,000."
"I know my whiskey love. If you will. You can close my tab too, s'all I want." He slid you his card, and you huffed, grabbing the full bottle and ringing him up. You half expected his card to decline, and when it didn't you were still impressed, sliding the bottle to him with his requested cup.
"Thanks sweetheart. What brings an American girl like yourself to downtown London?" He pondered, relishing the sound of your resonant laugh and the flow of your movements as you took cups and passed refills to other customers.
"I attend the University of London for biomedical engineering." You listened to his low whistle as he took a sip of his drink, sighing in relief at the burning sensation sliding down his throat. You caught sight of his plump, soft lips before he pulled his mask down again, only adding to your attraction to him.
"Pretty and smart. Lucky lad whoever he is." This wasn't your first rodeo, and it wasn't the first time someone attempted to smooth talk you while you worked, but for a voice like his you were more than happy to entertain. You liked his deep baritones, the rasp that accompanied certain words, and how delicious his accent was.
"As if. Nobody's hit the standard for that yet." He hummed approvingly. He liked women who wouldn't settle for anything less than what they wanted, and it made you that much more attractive to him, and made him want you to himself even more, though he was sure he wasn't the only one that wanted that too.
"I never got your name love." You swallowed down the sudden lump in your throat as you forced your heart to stop skipping beats from the pet name. It's not like it was the first time someone called you that, you'd heard it at least 20 times since you opened, but from his lips, his voice gracing your ears, you wish he'd call you that every day. You put on your game face, willing yourself to not be so easy.
"Well, you haven't done anything to earn it so, no dice." He almost groaned, loving the sultry, unimpressed eyes that gazed into his with an aura of confidence that would crush any mediocre man that dared to try his luck with you.
"Name your price, I like a good challenge anyway." He listened to your 'hm', your hands meeting as you twisted your rings around your fingers in thought. He took a second to truly capture your image. The simple yet elegant black blazer that, even though buttoned, revealed a deep V down your chest with a nice view of your cleavage in the center. You'd been there since your freshman year, the owner liked you, the customers liked you, so you got away with a lot, including small breaks in dress code.
You looked expensive, you smelled expensive, and fuck was it the hottest thing he'd ever seen. He loved the light reflecting off the jewelry that decorated your skin, from the multiple piercings on your ears to the thick, steel bands that wrapped around your fingers. You were beautiful, brilliant, and he knew he'd be willing to do anything for another night with you.
"Since you've been nice to me tonight, I'll make it a bit easier. Come back tomorrow with a planned date, dinner preferably. Keep it simple and classy. This is a test, I have expectations that I'm not going to inform you of but they all fall under typical date etiquette. Fail to meet any of them and well, no name for you." For any other woman he'd think they were being outrageous, a full date without knowing their name? Like hell he'd do something like that. But for you? To hear your voice, to be graced with your presence, to know your name, fuck he'd take you on as many dates as you want.
"Deal pretty girl, you'll have the best night of your life." He shifted in his seat at the way your chin jutted upwards for a moment, snickering with a pleased look before you went back to your job. He watched you the entire time, switching from whiskey to water after unconsciously refilling his glass with the bottle in his hand which he ended up moving to the unoccupied seat next to him. He wanted to sober up enough so he wouldn't forget tonight, so he wouldn't forget you.
"Looks like your buddies are cheering you on over there." You noted with a small smile, gesturing to the group of guys wiggling their eyebrows at him with quiet cheers and fists in the air.
"Fuckin' hell."
"Hey it's cute. I'm assuming you're not the flirty type with them huh." You teased. He watched as you popped a quick ice cube in your mouth, sighing in relief as the bar slowly emptied, leaving just the two of them and his team a few seats down. He had to stop himself from thinking about how it'd feel with your tongue and ice against his hot, throbbing cock. How pretty you'd look on your knees, water and spit running down the sides of your mouth as you struggled to take all of his length. He rolled his eyes and sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose for a moment before glancing back at them.
"Definitely not. Those fuckers never know when to lay off." You laughed quietly, your hand instinctively covering your mouth as you looked down. He couldn't help himself, reaching over and lifting your head up by your chin, the pad of his thumb pressing down on your smooth skin. You looked surprised by his gesture, the look of self-assurance in his advances clear in his amber eyes as they lazily peered into yours.
"Don't hide that beautiful smile of yours lovie. Wanna see it as much as I can before I leave." You couldn't help the wide grin that spread across your lips, watching his eyes crease which signaled that he was a smily as you were.
"Yeah? And when do I get to see yours huh? I'm oh so curious to know what the dark and edgy skull face looks like under the mask."
"I guess you'll just have to find out after our dinner won't you sweetheart."
"Oi! Ghost ain't layin' it on too much there is he lass?" Soap interrupted, nearly shouting from his place at the bar and directing the attention of the last few people who stuck around to him.
"That's enough from you sergeant." Ghost spat, downing the rest of his water with a glare sent his way. Johnny shrunk slightly from the heat of the look, drinking the rest of his beer as Price chuckled at the both of them.
"Sergeant huh. What're you then? Seems like you give orders often. My kinda guy." You flirted, taking his glass away and putting them with the rest.
"Lieutenant. If you like orders I'm more than willing to give some to you." The wink he sent you made you brain dead enough to stumble, him quickly to stead you with his hands reaching to catch your arms as you steadied yourself against the bar counter. You huffed and stood up straight, adjusting your outfit.
"Game on playboy." You grumbled, eyes flickering to his smug ones as the team made their way over.
"Making a girl fall Ghost? Not very nice of you." Price countered, giving his subordinate a disapproving shake of his head as Simon rolled his eyes.
"I know right. Careful Casper, might get it with one of your friends instead of you don't play nice." You glanced at Johnny and Kyle who were then turning red at your look, proving that they were just as attracted to you as he was.
"If you're looking for an.... unsatisfied night then by all means, have your way with em. Especially that one." He jabbed his finger at Johnny who was too out of it to comprehend what he'd just said about him, Kyle following the same road as they leaned on each other for support. You hummed, grabbing his face with your hand under his chin and pulling his closer to you, much to everyone's surprise as his eyes blew open.
"And you're confident you can.. 'satisfy" me Simon?" You pressed, your grip on his face tightening. He didn't respond, he couldn't, the look in your eyes pulled him in. The challenge and condescending tone, the lust. The daring nature of you was captivating, it took his breath away. It made his brain go numb in the moment, much like you expected it to.
"I guess we'll see then huh, pretty boy." With that you pushed his head to the side, and he felt his bulge pressing against his pants as he took a deep breath in, recovering from the blow to his ego and the wave of arousal traveling down to his painfully hard dick.
"Bar's closed. I'll see you tomorrow Simon. Make sure you can actually get it up, I'd hate to be disappointed." He scoffed, gaining his sense of dominance and confidence back before standing up with his bottle and revealing the height that added on to his monstrous size. Your breath hitched as he leaned over the counter, the smell of whiskey and expensive cologne invading your senses as his breath fanned over your skin from his mask.
"I wouldn't worry about me love. Might wanna call off from work after what I do to you." You couldn't help but press your legs together a bit at the clench of your pussy at his words, feeling yourself grow wet from his voice as you clasped your hands behind your back. You both glanced down at your action, the tension almost too much for you to handle, letting out a breath you were holding as he leaned back and away from you.
"I'm counting on it. I need a few days off anyway." You responded as nonchalant as you could, though you could see the smirk behind his mask at the small shake in your voice.
"I'll be back tomorrow pretty girl. Be a good girl for me and get ready."
...
Son of a bitch.
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And that's it!! I wanna be a hot bartender and flirt with a hot military guy with a deep voice and British accent... anyway. Thank you for the request!! It was a joy to write it!!
@kaicubus
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dyaz-stories · 5 months
Text
put your arms around me and i'm home || Cha Hyun-Su x Reader
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summary: In the dead of winter, you have to do a run to go get fuel for your generator. Things go wrong, but fortunately, Hyun-Su is here to save you.
word count: 3.7k
warnings & tags: canon-typical violence, gore, monsters, hyun-su and reader get injured, reader briefly thinks hyun-su is dead, monster!hyun-su makes a brief appearance, hyun-su needs a hug and he gets one!, angst, hurt/comfort, season 2 canon compliant.
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A/N: this can be read on its own, but there is another one-shot, if you're interested! for context, this takes place during season 2. reader and hyun-su know each other from high school and reader runs into hyun-su after the events of the first three episodes. reader also doesn't know that he is a monster/neohuman.
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You’re not one to get caught off guard, not usually. You’ve always been cautious, measured, far-sighted. It had been an advantage back in high school, and you’re pretty sure it’s what kept you alive thus far.
Yet, in this new world that you never asked to be a part of, unforeseen complications were the norm. You could plan, and plan, and plan ahead, but here you were, freezing in your living room, because the biting cold of the lasting winter meant that you’d run out of fuel for your small generator, and everything else you used to generate electricity wasn’t functioning the way it should.
If you didn’t want to freeze to death, you had to act, and act quick.
You’d already held out a few more days than was reasonable, hoping that the weather would clear and your solar panels would be useful again, or — but you hadn’t dared to voice that thought — that Hyun-Su would come by, and you could ask for his help. He’d offered before, after all, even if he had always kept you at arm’s length whenever you’d returned the favor.
But things were dire now, and you couldn’t wait any longer, so you’re kneeling in your living-room, preparing yourself for a hazardous trip in the outside, shivering as you do. Things are dangerous enough on a good day, but the snow that’s been continuously falling only makes you dread it more. It swallows sounds, means you’ll leave tracks behind you, and you’ll consume twice as much energy just to move around.
The last thing you pack is a map, which you make sure to keep available, though you hope you won’t need it in between breaks.
You’re heading for a four-stories parking lot, where you hope you’ll find fuel in one of the cars, but that’s not the dangerous part. What’s risky is that monsters love these kinds of places, with all their nooks and crannies, all the dark places to hide, and fear already has your heart beating twice as fast as usual before you’ve even opened your door.
Still, you take a steadying breath, haul the backpack over on your shoulders, and exit the house without making a sound.
Everything is quiet outside. Snow is falling gently, and the sight would be heart-warming, if it wasn’t for all the overturned cars, the gaping hole torn into the building opposite from yours by one of those missiles a few months ago, and the worrying fresh footprints going towards the river. The snow also covers the decomposing bodies, and you can only hope that you don’t accidentally step on one as you start walking.
At least it fills your tracks behind you. By the time you’ve reached the other side of the street, which was one once an impossible task due to how bad traffic you used to be, nothing leads back to your door, and you leave with, at least, the reassurance that home will still be here waiting for you when you come back.
If you come back.
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There’s comfort in knowing that you’d planned well, this time, to get to the parking lot. You get to your destination with only expected complications. You spot the monsters before they spot you. You have to reroute twice, but that had been accounted for, and you don’t even have to pull out your map. You reach the building right before noon, and after surveying it for a few minutes, you let yourself in before you can chicken out.
In the dark, you make your way to the first floor, where you will be able to have the greyish light of the day, instead of having to use precious batteries for your flashlight.
It’s not long before you’ve picked out the car, a familial minivan with an untouched baby seat in the back. You try not to think about the people it belonged to as you kneel by the side and prepare to siphon the tank. You make quick work of preparing it, with the tanks and hoses you’d brought for that purpose.
Maybe it’s your confidence that’s to blame for what happens next, or maybe it’s another one of these unforeseeable accidents. Either way, you catch movement from the corner of your eye and you jerk your head back as a reflex, but you’re not fast enough and unnaturally long claws dig into your cheek.
You manage not to scream despite the pain, scramble back and away from the van. There, standing on the roof, is a creature. Though it stands on two legs, there is nothing human about it anymore. The side of its face are sagging and drooping like it’s centuries old, covering where you assume its shoulders would be. It brings its claws to its lips, and your realize with horror that your blood is dripping from them.
Bleeding, in this world, might as well be a death sentence. You don’t bother wasting energy in stopping the tears from spilling from your eyes.
“Younnnnng,” the monster screeches. “Give— meeeeee…”
It at least snaps you out of the stupor, and you grab your bat, unwilling to go down without a fight.
But it’s not much of a fight, not when the scent and the noise are waking up all the other creatures hibernating around here.
You swing wildly as the thing, and manage to send it tumbling back. It’s only a short respite though, considering pain is only ever short lived for them, while blood is dripping down your chin and onto the concrete.
You throw your backpack on your shoulders with trembling hands and grab the first cannister that you’ve filled, abandoning the rest behind to start sprinting towards the exit.
You already know you won’t make it. You know you’ll have to run through the pitch dark ground floor, which is no doubt filled with more of those nightmares, and that the chances you’ll make it out on the other side are slim to none.
But you owe it to yourself fight until the very end.
As it stands, you don’t even make it to the downward slope that leads there. There’s the sound of something charging towards you, and then the— the head, it has to be, of a bull-like thing catches you in the ribs, and sends you flying into a car. Your breath is instantly knocked out of you, your vision goes blurry, your head starts reeling. You’re aware of the thing crashing into a concrete pillar. It at least stays there, struggling to pull itself out, but that’s barely any relief, because soon enough the first creature is calling out to you again, stretching out a skeletal arm towards you.
“Younnnnnng… Give meeeee…”
It kicks you in the ribs, and you roll onto your back, only to be met with the horrifying sight of its arm in the air, claws out and ready, preparing to cut your throat open.
You refuse to close your eyes.
And then, just as you think everything lost, someone steps in between you and the monster, blocking its arm with your very own baseball bat. You stare blankly at the large back, the unkept black hair, as the man forces it to step back and kicks it in the chest.
Then Hyun-Su turns around, and holds his hand out towards you.
He looks nothing like what you’re used to. He’s usually so lost, so hesitant, when he comes to you. Now he’s focused, purposeful, and in many ways, he reminds you of the boy you once knew, the captain of the football team who would without fail lead his team to victory.
“Let’s go,” he urges you, and when you weakly take his hand, he pulls you to your feet effortlessly.
You wheeze as the two of you run to hide behind a car. You press your free hand against your ribs, hoping to lessen the pain — it doesn’t work, of course.
“It’s going to find me,” you mumble to Hyun-Su as he keeps an eye on the thing. “It can— It can smell my blood.”
Hyun-Su’s head snaps towards you, and his expression darkens at the sight of the wound on your cheek. He lifts his hand halfway, as if to touch it, then lets it fall down again.
“You should—” Your voice breaks. “You should go. If it can find me… It’s not the only one.”
A strange expression that you can’t quite decipher passes on his face, before he shakes his head firmly.
“I’m not leaving you here.”
The relief you feel when he says those words is immediately overshadowed by embarrassment. You shouldn’t be happy. He needs to go, or he will die here with you, and what would the point be in that?
“What— What are you even doing here? How—”
You don’t know if he doesn’t answer on purpose, or if he hears a sound that takes his attention away from you.
“Can you run?” he asks you, glancing over the car.
Your body’s going to hurt like hell when the adrenaline wears out, but for now you give him a decided nod.
“Do you trust me?”
You should probably take your time to answer him, actually think about the question.
“Yes,” you answer instead, like it’s a reflex.
He exhales quietly, squeezes your hand in his.
“Then run.”
Then he’s pulling with him, running at full speed towards the open wall of the parking lot. Fear spikes through you. Even though you’re only on the first floor, it’s still too high to land comfortably. That fear is completely erased by the sight that greets you, briefly, of monsters stumbling and climbing all over each other to make their way up from the ground floor. There is a whole swarm of them teeming here already, and you can’t think of any other way to make it out alive — frankly, you have a hard time believing that this will work. But you cling to your faith in Hyun-Su like your life depends on it, because it does, and when he yells for you to jump, you do it without question.
While you’re flailing in the air, you feel him pulling you towards him. Strong arms wrap around you, and keep you caged and safe. You hit the ground brutally, rolling on the floor until you land on top of him.
“Fuck,” you mumble, painfully pushing you onto your elbows. “Hyun-Su, are— are you okay?”
The obvious answer to the question is ‘no’, and yet Hyun-Su doesn’t look worse for wear as he sits up, his eyes instead going over your body to make sure you weren’t too badly injured.
If you shiver when his hands run up and down your arms, it isn’t because of the cold.
“Let’s move,” he says, letting go of you all too quickly.
But, by the time you’re both on your feet, monsters attracted by the smell of your blood have started falling from the parking lot. The two of you sprint, but you’re no match for them and you know it. You regain the tiniest hope when you make it past a corner, thinking that maybe, just maybe, the snow will swallow your smell if you hide well enough — and then something wraps around your ankle.
In a second, you’re torn out of Hyun-Su’s grasp, and when you manage to roll onto your back to see who your assailant is, all you can do is let out an inhumane scream.
This particular monster has eight legs, like a spider, and its somewhat human torso  and head is completed by two long mandibles instead of a jaw. You manage to grab a knife from your pocket, but by the time you can cut its— web, you suppose, it’s charging towards you at full speed, and it’s close, too close for you to even get on your feet before—
When it attacks you, the first thing you see is what you first identify as a black wing, before you realize that it’s made out of a complex mix of flesh, bone and other materials that you can’t quite recognize, instead of feathers.
The wing pushes the creature back, and then Hyun-Su’s back is in front of you once more.
It’s his, you realize, brain awfully slow all of sudden. The wing. It’s attached to his shoulder, and all you can do is stare in confusion and horror. It flutters as he turns around to look at you.
You’re not fully in control when you scramble back, whole body shaking — because of the second near-death experience in ten minutes or because you’re terrified, you don’t know. What you do know is how hurt he looks, and how he turns his head the other way to face the monsters that are still coming after the two of you.
“You should run,” he says, low enough that you could miss it. He sounds hollow again. “Don’t turn around.”
You shake your head quietly, try to form some words. They all fail you. You don’t— you have no clue what’s happening. All that you know is that Hyun-Su is a monster and that he’s just used that to save your life.
The wave of monsters reach him just a few seconds later, before you’ve managed to decide anything. He pushes them back with practiced ease, one by one. You hate that you’re just sitting here, unable to move, as he fights for your life, yet your body just refuses to answer to you, even if you’re begging it to react.
Soon, the spider is the last one standing — or rather, the last one who hasn’t yet decided that you’d make a fairly meager lunch, considering how hard it is to get to you. It keeps attacking, and Hyun-Su keeps pushing it back, again, and again, until the creature manages to ensnare him in its web. Hyun-Su writhes, manages to pull his wing free, but it’s clear that he’s now at a disadvantage, and the mandibles click threateningly as the monster gets closer and closer to him.
Finally, your body agrees to react.
You run.
You don’t go very far though. You find the cannister you’d dropped and then you’re rushing back to throw the gasoline at the creature, half emptying it. The monster wasn’t paying attention to you, too busy trying to bite Hyun-Su’s head off, but its head snaps towards you when the liquid reaches it. It lets out a threatening hiss, which you ignore.
Instead, you find the lighter in your pocket.
Aim.
And throw.
The screams start right away, but it drops Hyun-Su, at least, as it tries to escape the fire.
For a second, you think you’ve made it — you’ve both made it, that is. Hyun-Su pulls himself to his feet. The wing flutters again, slowly starts to retreat back into his body to go back to a human arm.
He looks at you, expression unreadable.
And then one of the spider’s limb pierces through his chest. It’s not even calculated this time — just a movement it’s making as it tries to free itself from the flames that are consuming it.
You hear yourself scream. You don’t remember asking your body to move, this time, but you know that a second later you’re reaching Hyun-Su as he falls to his knees, and your arms are around him while you cradle him, pulling his head into your lap. Tears fall down your cheeks and onto his, as one of your hands tries, and fails, to apply pressure to the gaping wound, even if you know there is no point.
“No,” you beg. “No, no, no, no… Please, please, someone, please…”
You don’t know how many times you say it, how long you stay there. Snow starts to cover both his body and yours, and you realize you have a decision to make, if you don’t want to freeze to death. You just can’t bring yourself to do it.
Until Hyun-Su’s lifeless body arches in your arms with a gasp.
When his eyes open, they’re a clear, cold, uncanny blue.
You don’t dare to do anything then — not to let go of him, not to move away, not to break eye contact. It makes no sense, but you’re afraid that the slightest movement would have him gone again.
Slowly, his lips curve into a smirk, an expression you’ve never seen on him before. You’ve seen him smile, bright and sincere, and more recently, soft and subdued. But this amused, flirtatious smirk, that is completely new.
“You’re still here,” he comments, casually getting up, like nothing happen, like he can’t feel pain, like there isn’t a hole in his chest.
Even his voice is different. There’s a drawl to it, light and lazy, like he has all the time in the world.
“Hyun-Su?” you say, unsure of what’s happening. He was dead a minute ago. Then again, now that he’s breathing again, your brain is able to form the thought that he is a monster. An abnormal one, sure, and you don’t know enough to draw any conclusion, but it could be an explanation.
The smirk widens.
“Close enough,” he answers. “Are you scared?”
You’re not sure. You think you’re too emotionally exhausted to be scared.
“Should I be?” you ask. Maybe you shouldn’t trust this version of him to tell you the truth, and yet— All your senses are telling you that this is still Hyun-Su. And you don’t think he’d do anything to hurt you. Ever.
“It would break him if you got hurt,” not-Hyun-Su says, tilting his head. He lifts his index finger to tilt your head up. “I don’t want him broken.”
“Is he—” You interrupt yourself, unsure of what even is happening right now. But before you can start asking for answers, there is something you need to know. “Is Hyun-Su okay right now?”
He scoffs.
“He’s taking a break,” he replies. “He’s worked hard.” A beat while he seems to think about it. “Also, he thinks you hate him now.”
“I could never hate him,” you say, too easily, because it’s just the truth.
“Well, he is a monster,” not-Hyun-Su says with a shrug. He doesn’t seem to mean it as an insult, just stating a fact. You suppose he’s not wrong, and yet…
“The people I loved all turned into monsters,” you whisper quietly. Your mother, before you even made it home. Your best friend, who begged for death so she wouldn’t hurt others. Your father, who disappeared to protect you. You miss them all so much it sometimes feel like your heart’s been ripped out of your chest, and you’d give anything to have them back. So, if there is any way that you can still have Hyun-Su… “As long— as long as he’s not trying to kill me, does it really matter?”
The man watches you with interest, tilting his head to the side. It’s interesting. You haven’t been hurt by this world the way others have. Monsters caused death and destruction, but you watched half-monsters doing their very best to avoid hurting others, not unlike what Hyun-Su is doing right now.
The monster in him wonders what it would take, to destroy that ill-placed trust in others around you. The rest of him… is far too intrigued to give in. He grabs your chin between his thumb and his index finger, pulls your face closer to his.
“Doesn’t it?” he echoes your words. “What if I do hurt you?”
You swallow, call back the images of Hyun-Su easily taking out these monsters earlier. But you can’t forget that he’d been doing it to protect you.
“Y–You won’t,” you reply, even if your stutter betrays your lack of confidence.
It’s a leap of faith, but it seems to amuse him.
“For now,” he says, before his eyes roll into his head and Hyun-Su collapses in your arms.
You stumble back, barely manage to keep him up, before he seems to regain some control over his limbs and starts coughing. Even then, you don’t let go of him. You wrap both of your arms around him, head resting against his shoulder, and keep him there, against you.
Hyun-Su remains still for a while, breathing pained and ragged. The snow is still falling, but his body is warm.
“Are you okay?” he whispers with a hoarse voice.
“I am,” you answer. “Thanks to you.”
He lets out a pained sigh.
“Did he— Did he hurt you?”
You shake your head, barely moving away so you can look at him. He doesn’t look at you, keeps his eyes — black again, you note — fixedly in the other direction.
Like he can’t bear to know which emotion is on your face right now.
“I’m so happy you’re alive,” you say quietly. “I thought— I thought I’d lost you forever.”
Silence.
“Don’t leave me,” you beg, voice so low and broken you don’t think he’d hear if he wasn’t inches from you.
Hyun-Su’s body starts shaking against yours. Finally, finally, he wraps an arm around your waist, burying his head in your neck, and wet tears roll down your collarbone. In the freezing cold weather, they feel burning hot.
“Don’t hate me,” he begs in response, crying in your arms, fingers digging to the fabric of your clothes in a desperate attempt to keep you there, against him — even if there is no need for that right now.
You wish you could tell him that he just saved your life, that he’s been a guiding light in your cold, dark life this past few months, that you love him more than words can say. But that would take too long, and the situation calls for something shorter, more direct, and just as meaningful.
“You’re the only good thing about this world,” you say instead, and he sucks in a sharp breath.
Under the snow, for long minutes, Hyun-Su holds you like he never wants to let go.
When the two of you eventually detach from each other, he keeps your hand in his the whole walk home.
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i hope you liked this installment! i'm probably going to write something much softer next, still for this couple (but it's hyun-su so it's still going to be angsty). if you're enjoying this, please let me know your thoughts, reblog or send in an ask. hearing from readers is so motivating and makes me want to keep writing!
next part
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irisintheafterglow · 5 months
Text
every love I've known in comparison is a failure
summary: the stars appear over baratie, creating the perfect atmosphere to embarrass your husband. (opla!zoro x you)
wc: 2k
cw/tags: established relationship, swearing, allusions to canon-typical blood and violence, drinking and alcohol, flashback to a very silly meet ugly lol
note: (part one is linked here!) HELLO ZORO NATION, here is the highly requested part 2 to "if he's a ghost then i can be a phantom." hope you like it, i definitely had fun writing it because he's just,,,, such a himbo man. @alphaash99 thank you for the inbox ask, sorry it took so long to answer!!
likes, reblogs, and replies are appreciated!
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“I don’t know what else to tell you; that’s really all there is to it,” you laugh, taking another sip from your glass. “He brings me heads and I give him money.” 
“Brought you heads,” your husband corrects from your side, his arm draped securely over your shoulders. “Right now, I’m the one with a fire under my ass.” 
“Mhmm, but apparently I’m still giving you money,” you remind him, nodding toward the overflowing coin pouch of Berry at the center of the table. He shrugs a broad shoulder in defeat, unsuccessfully trying to hide his smile. 
“Okay, but you’re leaving out the part where you somehow fell in love with this…oaf.” Nami gestures vaguely at the crew’s swordsman and his jaw drops in indignation. Luffy and Usopp break into another fit of delirious giggling while Sanji leaves to fetch yet another bottle. Everyone present knew his ego was bruised from his failed attempts to charm you. “I think he has less romantic appeal than an overripe banana.”
“At this point, just say that I’m ugly,” he chuckles lightheartedly and she shakes her head in exasperation. “I’m obviously not that bad since this is who I married.” The two remaining boys at the table give polite applause, to which Zoro murmurs his melodramatic appreciation like he was accepting an award. You couldn’t remember the last time he was this relaxed while he was drinking. Most of the time, you had to steer him to whatever ship he was calling home for the night while simultaneously preventing him from stabbing anything that moved. 
“Yeah, keep telling yourself that,” Nami snorts and Zoro makes a mocking face that you raise your hand up to cover. “But, seriously. How’d he get you?” You pause, searching for words in your foggy mind and getting distracted by the speckling of midnight stars up above. Following the disastrous first meeting with the crew’s chef, their swordsman reluctantly introduced you to the rest of his new friends. You spent the remainder of the evening sipping a fruity drink with your legs crossed over your husband’s lap and regaling the table with embarrassing stories about their favorite stoic crewmate. 
“In all honesty, our first meeting was a fluke,” you admit after some time. Sanji returns with a new bottle and pours himself a hefty glass before sliding it to the center of the group, settling in to listen to your story. “I was there by mistake; he was there by mistake. I guess the two canceled out.” 
Years ago, when you were still confined to the walls of the Marine base, a series of unexpected changes in your itinerary allowed you an afternoon of freedom. You were visiting from your father’s countryside estate to once again ask if you could sail on one of his ships, only to receive the same dismissive answer as every request before. As if to rub more salt in the wound, he also notified you that Mihawk would be docking in two days time to continue your training. After jumping the gun a little too early and skipping the flattery dinner to get him drunk enough to grant your request, you were left with an extra day to wander the dry, lifeless walls of the installation. With a leg propped up on your father’s expensive leather chair and the other resting on the windowsill facing the ocean, you don’t bother turning when the door opens and the sound of boots echoes through the office. 
“Get out and I won’t tell the captain you came in here,” you say boredly, staring at the vast blue water that seemed to spell out freedom in the seafoam. The voice that replies is too disrespectful to ever come from the mouth of one of your father’s underlings. 
“I wasn’t aware the captain wore such promiscuous clothing.” You startle, swiveling abruptly to face the stranger that entered the room. He wasn’t a Marine at all, you quickly realized, not with that bright green hair and enough wrinkles in his clothes to look like your great grandfather’s forehead. But, what gave him away the most was his eyes. They weren’t like the eyes of other men you looked at, the ones who would cower or rake over you like you were some entree at a feast. No, this stranger looked at you curiously and with amusement that irked you. 
He looked at you like you were a new challenge. 
“Who are you?”
“Roronoa Zoro, the Pirate Hunter,” he replies and your eyes flick to his sharp jawline. If he weren’t in the room, you would have slapped yourself to regain your composure. “I have a bounty I’d like to turn in.” He tosses a burlap sack dripping with dark liquid onto your father’s equally expensive desk and you don’t even flinch. Your lack of a reaction seems to spur him further and he tilts his head to the side, studying you. 
“What’d my old man promise you?” 
“The captain is your father?” His eyes narrow on you and you glare, not backing down. 
“Answer my question first,” you fire back without hesitation. 
“Five hundred thousand Berry,” he answers and you nod, reaching over to one of the intricately carved drawers and pulling out a stack of bills and a dense pouch of coins. Rolling the bills into a wad and stuffing it into the coin purse, he catches it with ease when you toss it to him. “You’re not gonna verify if I’m giving you the right number?”
“That would imply that I care about how much you’re taking from my father,” you point out, “Which, I really don’t. I couldn’t care less, frankly, if you ransacked this entire office. Just don’t get caught or both our asses will have a fire under them.” He hums in assent and turns to leave, but as his hand hovers over the door handle, he hesitates and looks at you over his shoulder. 
“What are you doing here by yourself?”
“Trying to figure out how to sneak out of this fucking hellhole,” you mutter with obvious distaste. A thoughtful look crosses his features and he chucks you a crumpled cloak from a nearby dressing table. “What are you–”
“Put it on. Let’s get out of here,” he states and you hastily throw it over your clothes, slipping behind the swordsman while he guides you out of the base. He knows his way around the tunnels and, with the cloak obscuring your identity, successfully sneaks you out of the dusty beige walls of the base. The smell of garlic and fried food wafts into your nostrils and you drift toward it, feeling in your pocket for your own small coin pouch. Zoro falls into step next to you effortlessly and follows you to the enticing grill. “Someone’s hungry.”
“I’ve been eating nothing but government slop for the past twenty four hours. If I have to see another spoonful hit my plate, I’ll actually die,” you deadpan and the corner of his mouth turns up in amusement. Without bothering to count the amount, you drop a handful of coins into the vendor’s roughened palms and ask for enough food to feed you and the man next to you. She gladly obliges, stacking various grilled sticks of food onto a plate and thanking you profusely for your generosity. “We’re gonna eat and you’re going to explain to me why you snuck me out,” you command and you’re glad to sense him continue to stay by your side. 
During the few hours you spend with Zoro, you find yourself utterly enthralled by him and he is fascinated by you. You listen to his stories about hunts and his bounties and find yourself in awe of how non-arrogantly he speaks of his job. You’d sat down for numerous fancy dinners with egotistical Marines that wanted to sleep their way into good graces with your father, but eating with Zoro was nothing like that. He was an amazing listener and, when you thought he was just ignoring something you said, he ended up saying something just as thoughtful a few moments later. His visits became more frequent and you continued to find excuses to linger around the base in hopes that he would sneak you out again. Your father’s rage would end both of you if he ever found out, but the thrill of secrecy was your newest addiction. 
“He asked to marry me a few years after I helped him empty my dad’s wallet,” you recall, fondly remembering the disaster that was his proposal. “He had this whole shabang planned out with a sunset and fancy cheeses–”
“And then it fucking rained,” he grumbles before taking another sip. “Fucking storm rolled in and blew away the entire setup.” 
“That’s still romantic, though,” Luffy offers reassuringly. “Getting down on one knee in the rain.”
“It is,” you smirk, “if he didn’t drop the ring off the cliffside.” The crew erupts into shocked cackling, tears pricking the edges of their eyes. 
“You dropped the fucking ring?” 
“The wind was strong!” 
“Wait, so then how’d you get that one?” Usopp points at the green gem embedded in the simple gold band. It was strikingly similar to the one hanging from a chain around your husband’s neck, a decision made so he didn’t lose it while he was fighting. 
“He went out and bought one from the market the next day. It was, what, fifty Berry?”
“You bought them a cheap ass ring after you dropped the expensive one,” Nami echoes in disbelief. Zoro opens his mouth to argue but is cut off with even louder shrieks from the table. “How the hell did you pull them?”
“It’s something I ask myself every time I see this ring,” he concedes. “But one thing I do know is that they deserve more than I can ever give them.” The soft look on his face when he turns to you never fails to make your body feel like it’s floating. It’s only when Luffy slams his palms on the table decisively that you snap out of your lovesick trance.
“Alright, that settles it,” he states with finality. 
“Settles what?”
“You’re going to join our crew.” Usopp raises his glass like he’d seen the order coming from miles away. Sanji turns a slightly darker shade of pink but doesn’t protest. 
“I could use someone that isn’t oozing with testosterone on the ship,” Nami adds when you’re unable to respond immediately. You can feel Zoro’s body tense next to you and, when you place a comforting hand on his shoulder, it feels like pure stone. He knew firsthand that asking you to leave was a touchy subject, especially when it was hard for the child of a captain to disappear into the blue. If you were out there with him, he told you, he wouldn’t be able to assure your safety when he was on hunts. Though you both knew you could handle yourself just fine, it always seemed to be a matter of poor timing when it came to running away together. Poor timing, that is, until now. 
Zoro wasn’t alone now, and you don’t even hesitate. 
“Do I get to choose a cool signature weapon like everyone else?” The captain’s face breaks into a blinding grin and begins a long ramble of different weapons you could choose from. Your husband’s body hasn’t lost its stiffness and he lowers his voice to a tone that only you could hear. 
“Are you sure about this?”
“Why wouldn’t I be?” His eyebrows furrow, unconvinced. “I said I’d do anything to be with you, didn’t I?”
“But piracy, love? You’re willing to go that far for me?”
“You know I’d go even farther if I needed to,” you murmur and that settles it. You catch an excited glint in Zoro’s eye and lean in closer to him, resting your head on his shoulder. “You’re not the only swordsman on the ship anymore, husband.”
“And I’ve finally gotten you out of that damned base, so I think it’s a good time to renew those vows.”
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moondirti · 11 days
Note
Hello! So not a request but a Dahlia thought: when getting to the boys place she's a little anxious but then she sees the perfectly set up spare room they just happen to coincidently have set up perfectly. And it's so comfortable and peaceful after a shit day and a equally shittier couple of months that reader just kind of releases the damn of tears. Which you know just inforcess that they are doing the right thing by taking her. It's for her own good.
PART 1 • PART 2 • PART 3 tags: simon x f!reader x johnny. alluded abuse (not by ghoap). kidnapping (but is it really kidnapping anymore?) pregnancy.
Their home is nice.
You don't know what you expected. Nothing bad, certainly – one look at their car and you guessed they were comfortable – but whatever approximation you rendered in your head didn’t come close to hitting the mark. Perhaps it was the remnants of your misgivings, then, that convinced you they lived in some squalid house off the side of the freeway. No one is kind enough to offer free room and board without there being some sort of catch. 
But it's nice. Spacious. Secluded, though not to a concerning degree. You pass through a quaint town in order to get to it, and it's only another two miles out, tucked on the outskirts of a neighbouring forest. A two-story chalet, understated and painted dark to deliberately sink into its surroundings. If you had to guess, it was the pick of the one in the mask; the style suits him more than the other one, you think. Elevated inches off the ground. Weathered cedar exterior, softened by time, and a modest front porch with three Adirondack chairs positioned around a bonfire pit. 
“Did someone else live here with you?” You ask, tucking your thumb into your bag strap as you follow them to the front door. The shorter of them throws a look over his shoulder, brows furrowed in an endearing way. “I just ask because– well, you mentioned a spare bedroom, and there are three seats out here. So…” 
“Johnny’s mum stayed with us for a while after his father passed.” The masked one says, unlocking the entrance before pulling it open for you. Your heart twinges uncomfortably in your chest, and you give a sad smile to ‘Johnny’ on your way in.
“I’m sorry for your loss.” 
He appears astounded for a second, gaze flickering back and forth between you and his partner, before settling in place. “Ah, dinnae be. Wis a long time ago.” 
You’re pleased to find that the interior is a lot brighter. Where the outside boasted a dark green paint job, the inside glows in a smattering of honeyed wood and sage tones. All open-plan; you can see the dining table and kitchen from where you step into the living room, brown leather couches serving as the only divisors of the space. You allow your eyes to rove over the walls, the plush carpets underfoot, up and over to where the lofted second-story overlooks the bottom floor. Large picture windows allow ample light to flood in, yet it seems to have the particularly concerning effect of illuminating how… empty it all is. Because apart from a strew of personal belongings – boots by the foyer, a half-filled water bottle on the breakfast bar, a coat thrown over the back of an armchair – there’s nothing to indicate that they actually live here. 
For all you know, they could’ve rented the car and the house to lure you in. 
A pit opens up in your stomach. You pat your pocket for your phone, then turn to where they await your reaction. 
“I didn’t catch your names.” You ask, cringing internally at how straightforward you seem. You have to remind yourself that it’s better to be blunt, to scope this situation out before you’re in too deep. If it takes playing oblivious, then so be it. “I’m embarrassed I don’t know. You’re being so kind, after all.” 
“Johnny. John Mactavish, if ye wanna be proper.” The Scotsman beams, stepping forward to take your bag off your hands, that which you tentatively. The other one merely stays still, peering out on you from above his fabric mask. You shift from foot to foot, waiting. 
Eventually, he blinks. “Ghost.” 
The pit deepens. You breathe through the nausea climbing up your chest. That’s not a name, you’re tempted to say. Tempted to take your bag back over your shoulder and call a cab. But it’s so early in the morning that you know you’ll have a hard time reaching one. And even if you manage, where would you go? Certainly not home. 
The callous echo of your ex’s voice still bounces around in your skull. It’s just a matter of probability. Risk it here with these perfect strangers, who may or may not be ill-intentioned. Or risk it back home, with a man you know only means to do you harm. 
So, you give them your name. 
(Just the first. Though that isn’t without its precautions, either; later, when you finally tuck in, you’ll be sure to send your location and the name Mactavish off to a trusted friend.)
Johnny’s grin widens, something warm and molasses-thick radiating from the lines it carves into his cheeks. It’s so genuine, so welcoming and hospitable, that you have a hard time imagining him as a bad guy. And however Ghost unnerves you, he’s obviously decent enough to have bagged such a positive force of nature. Decent enough to have offered you a ride, and a place to stay when you were so desperately in need of one too. 
It all tallies up in your head, sand on a scale that dips in favour of one side. Maybe it’s the sleep deprivation, or the pregnancy hormones schooling your common sense into accepting the two, strong men who have demonstrated their willingness to provide – but you’re quickly softening up to the possibility that this is something good without exception. A reward for putting up with so much over the past few months. Some reality where life isn’t looking to beat you down.
If only for the night. 
You blindly follow as Johnny gives you a brief tour. Their bedroom is just to the left of the living space, and he tells you to knock if you need anything at all. 
“Ye'll be staying upstairs, hen. Unless th' stairs ur awfy much fur ye?” 
“No.” You shake your head, stricken by the utter graciousness. “Please. I’m so thankful you’re helping at all. Upstairs is just fine.” 
“Promise?” He demands, eyes wide like a quizzical pup. Ghost sidles up behind him, large hand clasping onto his shoulder, right where his shirt's collar ends to reveal the base of his neck. You stare at that touch, that point of skin-on-skin contact, for what must be too long before you can bring yourself to respond. 
“I- Yeah. I promise.” 
Your room isn't really a room at all, but a loft as large as half the first floor. Three walls and a missing fourth, polished wood railing and opaque curtains offering a degree of separation from the rest of the home. It's all you can do not to flop down on the bed immediately, stripping down to your panties and undershirt before relieving yourself in the attached bathroom.
Despite the modicum of hesitation still planted in your gut – which you doubt will go away until you’re absolutely sure you haven’t made yourself victim to a pair of crazy sexy serial killers – you unwind at record speed. Surprising how easy it is when you aren’t confronted with the burden of your real life. When everything is warm and provided for. When your bed is made with crisp clean sheets, a homemade quilt folded neatly on the edge, and the outside ambience isn’t singing drunks but quiet. 
And of course, once your guard comes down, so too does your strength. A ball of devastation snowballs in your chest. Your sternum burns and your nose grows hot. You hardly remember to clasp a hand around your mouth before you burst into an ugly sob, fat tears slipping off your lash line. Only when a stressed hiccup seizes your frame do you become thankful for your sense; you’d really hate for them to hear you cry after having been so kind. You’re not ungrateful in the slightest, but already you prep yourself for the disappointment of returning home come night. A preemptive grief for the life you can never give yourself.
A chorus of morning birdsong and your own, miserable sniffles lull you to sleep.
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if anyone's curious, here's the floorplan i used to imagine ghoap's chalet! (source)
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aethon-recs · 9 months
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Tomarrymort Advanced Pack – 12 Longfic Recs
If you’ve made your way through the Tomarrymort Starter Pack and Intermediate Pack reads, here are 12 beautifully written, timeless fics that are Tomarrymort on hard mode for when you’re ready to dive into something that will really challenge your every reading muscle. This selection of fics features some of the most skilled writing I’ve come across in the entire fandom, and I love how these authors tackle incredibly complex subject matter and plotlines and characterization choices with such bold and unflinching perspectives.
Please mind all tags (including CCNTW, explained here) as you may find some themes within some of these fics difficult or challenging to read for a variety of reasons.
This is Part 3 of a 3-part series (see here for Part 1 and Part 2). I hope you get as much enjoyment from reading these additional 3.1 million words of incredible Tomarrymort longfic as I have!
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Tomarrymort Advanced Reads
ǟʟʍǟɢɛֆȶ by eldritcher (M, 134k, complete)
Setting: Canon Divergence – Book 6 Premise: If Harry and Dumbledore team up with Voldemort to save the magical world from a catastrophic threat. Why I rec it: Eldritcher delivers one of the most epic love stories of a lifetime — with Harry and Voldemort surviving a trip to the moon and back, and Harry’s love for Voldemort transcending time and space after Voldemort makes the ultimate sacrifice to save the world and, against all odds, return to Harry. The prose is absolutely transcendent — amongst the best I’ve encountered not only in fanfic, but in all of fiction I’ve ever read. I can’t say enough about how much I love Elditcher’s writing style and how beautifully the story unfolds — there’s a very nice lyrical rhythm underlying all the sentence structure and word choice in the fic that flows like nothing else I’ve read before.
Anabiosis by @itsevanffs (E, 32k, WIP)
Setting: Canon Divergence Pre-Book 1 Premise: If Voldemort resurrects early and takes a teaching job at Harry’s primary school. Why I rec it: This is one of the best and most realistic and gutting depictions I’ve ever read of the quiet tragedy of Harry’s pre-Hogwarts years growing up experiencing severe neglect and an absence of love throughout his entire childhood. @itsevanffs did a magnificent job of capturing Harry’s limited POV and all the fluttering hope his still-trusting heart holds when he meets Mr Riddle, the first teacher who’s ever treated him with kindness. My heart ached so much for Harry throughout this fic, and the emotional arc in this story has continued to haunt me for a very long time afterwards.
Eight Days a Week by @vestiges-of-light (E, 802k, complete)
Setting: Canon Divergence – Book 7 Premise: If Voldemort captures Harry shortly after his sixth year, which leads to an unlikely truce and eventual partnership that ends up saving the magical world. Why I rec it: This fic combines a sprawling political epic with an incredibly extensive exploration of kink. The author asks a great question in the tags: "Why is only vanilla sex literary?" — and this fic does a fantastic job of proving that messy, filthy, raw sex scenes don’t have to be made sanitized or palatable for mainstream consumption in order to have just as much of a place in a plot-driven, serious longfic as vanilla sex does. Against the high-stakes backdrop of international political intrigue, there’s a very nice domesticity to Harry and Voldemort’s relationship, and how much they trust each other and can be stripped bare and vulnerable in front of each other is very poignant and touching to read about.
Embryo by @cannibalinc (NR, 28k, WIP)
Setting: Time Travel (1940s) Premise: If mysterious new transfer student Harry appears in Tom’s sixth year in a state of near complete amnesia. Why I rec it: One of the defining character traits of Tom Riddle is that he’s an absolute genius — the most talented academic mind to ever walk through the doors of Hogwarts — and this fic absolutely delivers on that aspect. Told from Tom’s POV, this fic is like reading a complex multidisciplinary text spanning philosophy and physics and mathematics and magical theory, all interconnected by the mystery of how Harry appeared and where he came from and why he is so utterly forgettable to everyone but Tom.
found by @honbug (E, 112k, WIP)
Setting: Non-Magical AU Premise: If Tom grows up in a world with no magic, but has had strange recurring dreams his whole life — dreams of a boy with green eyes and a scar, dreams of a dark graveyard and magical snakes and other mysterious things. Why I rec it: The character work done in this fic is absolutely breathtaking — one of the best character studies of Tom Riddle I’ve ever come across. This is a Tom who grew up without magic, but is no less cold and vicious and psychopathic and teetering on the edge of madness. The story arc follows Tom from his early childhood through his rise as a ruthless leader in an organized crime syndicate not unlike the Death Eaters — all the while that he’s haunted by dreams of Harry, his Harry, even as the dreams start to drive him to the brink of insanity.
how large the teeth by MaidenMotherCrone (E, 257k, complete)
Setting: Voldemort Wins AU Premise: If Harry grows up as an outcast in a world where Grindelwald and Voldemort have already won long before he is born, but he’s still the subject of a prophecy that designates him as their world’s savior. Why I rec it: The worldbuilding is so exquisite and complex in this fic — the author did a spectacular job at completely reimagining the wizarding world from the ground up if the Dark Lord were to win a long time ago and how their extremely inequitable society would subsequently be structured. Harry’s defiance throughout is lovely, and his growing entanglement with Voldemort adds to all the high-stakes and risky moves that he makes throughout the fic. The plotline is very action-packed — a lot of complex plot threads are interwoven throughout the story, with an undercurrent of revolution and discontent simmering under the surface until it explodes in a glorious finale.
In Willing Sacrifice by @hikarimeroperiddle (M, 1,197k, WIP)
Setting: Canon Divergence – Book 4 Premise: If Harry finds Voldemort in Riddle Manor the summer before his fourth year, and enters into an unlikely alliance with him before returning to school that year. Why I rec it: This fic covers so much ground — at 1.2 million words (so far!), it’s the most detailed rewrite of canon starting from book 4 that I’ve ever come across, weaving in plenty of magical theory and political intrigue as Voldemort takes Harry under his protection initially in a mentor capacity. The relationship between Harry and Voldemort unfolds in such a beautiful way in this fic — with Harry growing to fall in love with Voldemort, despite all of Voldemort’s murderous and violent qualities, without losing an ounce of his humanity or the inherent goodness inside of his heart along the way.
Lover's Spit by @pinktom, @k3uuu (E, 88k, WIP)
Setting: Non-Magical AU Premise: If Harry and Tom grow up in a small town together in northern England, and Tom has harbored an obsession for Harry ever since primary school. Why I rec it: An absolutely stunning coming-of-age story set in modern times. This story is striking in so many different ways. It perfectly captures the voice of fringe internet communities in such an authentic way. It also poignantly captures the social isolation and erosion of privacy from living in a small town where gossip spreads like wildfire, and how the internet amplifies these dynamics. At the core of the story is a really sweet love story between Tom and Harry that I am literally obsessed with — every single one of their interactions is so tender and pure — and it’s such a startling contrast to how Tom’s internet persona is portrayed that makes the sweetness all the more heartfelt.
Mi Aedijekit by @kitastrophea (M, 282k, WIP)
Setting: Post-Canon Premise: If Harry is captured by Voldemort and placed under the Draught of Living Death, only to awaken in the far future where Voldemort has ruled over their world for over a thousand years. Why I rec it: A linguistic and sociological tour de force. When Harry wakes up from his magical coma over a thousand years into the future, the world has been entirely transformed, and the skill and effort that the author undertook in fleshing out a society where there’s been a thousand years of cultural change and evolution in language can’t be understated. One of the most unique and fun aspects of the story is learning the new vocabulary of the future alongside Harry for the first time. I love how the fic examines how even Voldemort gets bored with immortality after a millennia of ruling — and how, even with a thousand years separating them and memories of the earlier times scattered to the wind, Harry and Voldemort are still inextricably drawn together.
Of Kings, Of Pawns, and Of Men by @ambivalens999 (E, 129k, WIP)
Setting: Canon Divergence – Book 5 Premise: If Voldemort ends up in Harry’s body and Harry ends up in Tom Riddle’s body after a bad encounter with the dementors at the beginning of book 5, and they can’t figure out how to swap back. Why I rec it: This is such an interesting take on the bodyswap trope, which is given a very serious and plotty treatment here. For fear of the safety of his friends, Harry has to go along with returning to his 5th year at Hogwarts in Tom Riddle’s body and being sorted into Slytherin house, while Tom passes himself off as Harry Potter. There’s a mystery behind the depth of Tom’s knowledge and familiarity with Harry, as he knows more about Harry than even Voldemort should. Is it the scar horcrux? Is it Voldemort? Is it something else entirely? The inherent combativeness and magnetism between Harry and Tom keep the tension high as they push each other’s buttons and circle around each other like wolves trying to establish dominance.
Phobia by @katsitting (E, 48k, complete)
Setting: Post-Canon Premise: If Voldemort captures Harry and brutally tortures him to the point of breaking. Why I rec it: This fic does not sugarcoat Voldemort’s capacity for cruelty and sadism in any way, and I admire the author’s commitment to depicting the most horrific of scenarios. Having read countless fics with this setup, I’ll be honest, the depiction in this fic is probably the most likely outcome of any Voldemort-captures-Harry scenario. They do not fall in love. It is not a fun time for Harry. There is gore; there is brutal prisoner torture; there is extremely extensive non-con. I found it very raw and unvarnished — not an easy read, but a very memorable and evocative one. And yet, despite the themes of darkness explored in this fic, it ends on a note of hope.
The Foul (part 1) / The Great (part 2) by @meles-merrivale (M, 24k, complete)
Setting: Time Travel Premise: If Harry gets thrown back in time a thousand years into the past, and does whatever it takes to stay alive until he can meet up with Voldemort again. Why I rec it: This is a fantastic depiction of the slow descent into madness following a disastrous time travel accident and what a thousand years of immortality does to one’s sanity. It’s also a great exploration of the time travel paradox and whether anyone has the power to change the past, or if pivotal historical events are, by their very nature, predetermined. By the time Harry encounters Voldemort again, he is a shell of the person he used to be, but gradually, he finds more of his original humanity and spark for life the more his relationship with Voldemort progresses.
*
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eclairsnme · 9 months
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♡ POV: Being The Itoshi Brother’s Elder Sister ♡
Part 1/ Part 2/ Part 3/ Part 4
More trouble and very dilf (prick) boss and yandere kaiser!!
tags: idol!you, crack comedy, reunion, familial love, sfw, somewhat of a brat (⁎⁍̴̛ᴗ⁍̴̛⁎), lack of common sense, dilf boss, kaiser is giving me psycho killer mannn (✦థ ェ థ), red flags!!
*・゜゚・*:.。..。.:*・'(*゚▽゚*)'・*:.。. .。.:*・゜゚・*
A few years ago,
You picked up the phone and read a message.
It’s a punishing journey here.
It was from Sae, your younger brother.
After reading the message, you flipped the phone to your manager.
You could not be bothered to reply to him as... well, you are in a middle of a scandal.
A rival company is trying to sue you for plagiarising their music.
I mean like ew? (¬、¬)
You debuted in the music industry one year ago and had already gathered a massive fanbase and caused a wave in the industry.
Many were hailing you as the pop star of the century. Recognised not only domestically but also worldwide.
The songs were written by you and with the collaboration of acclaimed song producers.
When all of your songs dominated the Billboard chart, you solidified your status as the youngest and most celebrated star of this era.
You know what they always say, behind every success has its own trials and tribulations, and yeah you were now experiencing that exact phenomenon — a scandalous scandal, a bad suing kind.
The rival company had been trying to produce their very own pop star using you as the manual, however, it was to no avail. Obviously.
You snorted at that. No one could compete with you, naturally.
Therefore, they had to resort to underhand tactics. Such as, wrongly accusing you of plagiarism without any ounce of evidence and trying to sue you to boot?
Huh! The audacity.
More absurdly, he annouced all that mumbo jumbo on the stupid bird app! That hellhole of an app.
It goes without saying that the news spread quickly like lighting speed! Both fans and haters became aware of it and rumors and negative comments began to circulate rapidly. They really popped off there.
What else popped off? Keyboard warriors. They came and showed the heck up. They have never typed their opinions so quickly.
Before you could defend yourself from such an outlandish claim, they had already painted you a bad reputation. You cracked a displeased smile.
It appears that your followers and supporters have left you abruptly and without any hesitation.
And they call themselves loyal fans. You pouted. People’s minds sure do sway rather quickly. That bandwagon sure has lots of passengers.
Today, a crowd gathered outside your studio to protest against what they perceive as your "sinister" conduct.
How very rude!
Prior to your debut, you had anticipated that your first scandal would involve a dating rumour with a super hot man. However, the current scandal being circulated is merely a laughable joke and not the kind you had expected.
The music you made was definitely yours last you checked. It was unquestionably from this absolutely talented brain of yours.
“Pest,” you grumbled.
Oh and what a pest he definitely is. Actually, he was more disgusting than those creepy crawlies. He had a greasy face, greasy hair and an incredibly bad breath.
You shivered. Yucky.
“That bastard!” The boss of your company slammed the table.
Your boss was a tall and well-dressed individual in his mid twenties. He was an efficient and smart, young man that had personally scouted you and propelled your career (well, that is a little too much credit to him but yeh yeh).
This company had a few B-listers if you squint... hard enough. You were his first pop star and damn, you exceeded all his expectations. Not to toot your own horn, but yes you are quite literally The Best.
After learning of the absurdity, he was absolutely furious. He was frothing in the mouth like how baristas froth them age-old milk. You found it quite funny to see his handsome face contort to such comedy.
You hid your giggle behind your hand.
He stopped and knelt down in front of you, "I understand that this situation is difficult for you right now, but I assure you that we will find a solution and overcome this obstacle together."
Even the dumbest person would know that refuting the so-called "claims" was a simple task. However, the bigger issue at hand is the individuals who have already turned their backs on you. Unfortunately, you are currently considered the most disliked public figure.
Can you believe that? Me!
To that, you grunted and took a heavy whiff of the musky meeting room.
Gain back their support?
You suddenly stood up, causing your boss to fall back onto his buttocks.
An idea crossed your little noggin. Your idea is truly exceptional, with a level of creativity that is almost unparalleled. Some people might even dare ask, "From that brain of yours?"
A true visionary of the century you would say. You snickered to your own delight.
“What’s going on?” Your boss asked in confusion.
“I know just the way to make him eat his shit!” You bellowed, lightly brushing the nonexistent dust from your Miu Miu garb.
Oh yes, eat shit he will. Bet, his shit would be the best-tasting shit he will ever consume.
-
Present day
You, the top idol, stood in front of the screen fake crying your heart out for your dear little brother.
“Do you not love me anymore?!” You dramatically placed your hand over your face, wiping away the fake tears.
Rin covered his ears at that infamous phrase coming from you.
As the situation “escalates”, even Rin’s teammates started to catch on to your act. As in, they actually fell for your poorly executed acting.
“Oi, Rin your sister is calling for you! You bastard of a little brother making her cry,” his teammates and Karasu collectively shouted at him, accusingly.
This was too much for Rin to handle, the embarrassment was too excruciating. He was so close to believing that you were not his sister. Heck, did you hear his internal thoughts? Because he could vaguely hear you crying louder. He shuddered.
To Rin, this was the equivalent of having his mom unexpectedly appear in the classroom and announcing every speck of mole on his body to everyone. Yet again, he shuddered.
You, on the other hand, were just about to tease him more when Mr Manager tapped on your shoulder.
“Your next schedule is in an hour, you need to get ready.”
Ah, talk about getting blue balled. You frowned. You were just about to have fun with Rin.
"Schedule? I thought I was done for today?" You gave him a look of disapproval, with your lips tightly pressed together.
"I-it's the meeting with the boss!" He spread his arms wide in disbelief, brows downturned and mouth gaping like a goldfish.
"That person would not mind," you turned away from the screen and shrugged your shoulders, "no big deal missing one or two meetings."
"You mean, multiple (all) meetings?"
Wow, talk about being unnecessarily observant. You rolled your eyes. If your eyes could roll to the back of your skull that will be great.
So, your boss has this thing where you have to meet him and then goes on to lecture you on your bad public image blah blah blah. A broken record. That is what he is. He needs to learn how to shut up.
"Please you need to attend the meeting or else," your manager took a deep breath, "he will be really angry at me. Since he also specifically mentioned the severity of your behaviour this time around."
"Andddd?" You nonchalantly glance over, not sure why you should care.
Your boss sure is a pain in the buttocks. You can handle yourself well without him. What about the severity of your behaviour this time around? This was not your first rodeo.
"Wait!" You yanked the collar of his shirt, "What do you mean by the severity of my behaviour this time around."
He miserably clutch onto his shirt to ensure he would not die to accidental asphyxiation.
"T-he paps!" He released himself from your grip and whispered into your ears, "They took a photo of you smooching a man! Boss was super - and I mean super duperrr - angry! Since this morning, he has been attempting to hide the entire situation from the public."
Smooch? The only thing you smooched was...
Oh!
Oh?
OH!
Ohhh?
OH!
So, someone did catch you getting first base with that German guy.
"Smooch?" Anri gasped, a little too loudly. Actually, loud enough for the entire Blue Lock facility to hear.
Smooch? The Blue Lock players repeated after Anri.
Anri clasped her mouth shut.
Erm oops. (Ŏ艸Ŏ)
Turns out, the screen was still on for everyone to witness.
"End of today's entertainment — hope everyone feels motivated by the special appearance of the wonderful idol," with a click of a button, Ego had the screen turned off to the disgruntlement of the players behind the screen and to the joy of Rin.
"W-we have to go!" Panic filled Mr Manager's voice as he tried to drag you out of the room.
"But my Rin!"
"You are welcome here anytime," Ego interjected.
"Really?" Your teal eyes lid up.
"Reward for work and work for reward. It is widely acknowledged that when individuals receive recognition for their diligent efforts, they tend to exhibit improved performance and exhibit a more optimistic outlook. As a result, it is imperative to provide incentives that are based on performance. By the way, I must take a moment to express my genuine gratitude for your presence here today, Miss."
You blinked at his response, "I don't know what you just said, but I will be back for my little brother, Go-go!"
Ego briefly reflects on his nickname and then lets a faint smile appear on his face, "Hope to see you very soon too."
"Ah, the boss is already calling me! We have to go!"
"Bye-bye, big melon woman!" You did not forget your manners, as you made your way out.
Anri shyly waved back at you.
Damn, I really want big boobs.
-
His sharp eyes met yours.
You gulped.
You felt like a deer caught in the headlight. It was just a smooch — a very normal German etiquette. No biggie. Right?
Your boss held a photograph of what you believe is the source of this man's frustration.
You took the photograph out of his hands, "I spy with my little eyes a man and an exceptionally drop-dead knockout woman engaged in - you know what? This is actually a really good photo! We could hang it-"
"For goodness sake!"
"-on the wall."
He ruffled his neatly tousled coif into a slightly messy one.
"It is just an old friend," You fidgeted with the ends of your dress.
"Friends do not eat out each other's face!" He exasperated, loosening his tie.
"I-"
"I don't think you get it. This photo shows very clearly, the nation's biggest star and the German prodigy footballer exchanging salivas! This is big big news! And it will be a scandal if people catch wind that you are going around smooching high profile people! What would people think of you? We have been through so many ups and downs together but this is your first relationship scandal. I can already imagine the looks of your fans-"
"Aren't you being a tad bit dramatic? Isn't it normal for a pretty girl like me to have relationships?"
"You are an idol!" He shouted, a little too loud that you flinched, "And what is this thing that your Manager told me? Regarding your desire for a boyfriend, please keep in mind that as an idol, you have a certain image to uphold."
You stood up and slammed the table, a little too hard — you felt your palm throb underneath. You took angry steps towards him and placed your still throbbing palm on his face ever so not gently.
He stared into your teal eyes and you saw the big gulp he took.
Taking another step closer till your head was right beneath his chin, you stared up at him and squeezed his cheeks with all your might. He groaned and grabbed your wrist.
"What is that for!" He softly clasped onto his tender, reddened cheeks. You harrumphed back at him.
"HA! Idol this idol that." You snorted, "what if he is actually my boyfriend? Have you thought of that? Plus, my fans are mature enough to understand. We've practically grown up together. Don't be delusional, old pal!"
Ah, I am really digging my grave.
"You know very well-" You eyed him sharply, his mouth clammed shut.
"Kaiser and I are super in love and so what if some paps caught us? Is it really possible for someone like me, a young and attractive woman, to remain celibate forever? I am certainly not a nun." You let your mouth run, nervously.
Wow, my grave has been dug real deeeep, very spacious if I say so myself.
To be honest, you were not even too sure what you were even saying. Your boss was being such a prick. Prickly prick. Ugh.
"When did you even meet that guy with your full schedule?" He asked, hands still on your wrist.
"Our love needs no words. Whence our eye meets, we are in love," You physically cringed at your words. Seeing the goosebumps rising from your boss's arms, you were not the only one who thought so it seems.
Great. Just great.
"Let us set this straight. So you are telling me that you are in a relationship with that football player?"
"Why do you act so surprised? C'mon, I have two fine brothers who are also football players. What can I say? I just love a man who can treat the ball right. It is all bound to be. Therefore this is no scandalous scandal you should be worried about."
He releases your hands and stuffs his hands inside the pocket of his suit, reaching for the cigarette pack. He let out a deep breath and then proceeded to light a cigarette. With a shaky breath, he exhaled the thick smoke, his head throbbing from pent-up exhaustion and frustration.
You almost felt sorry for him, almost.
"Sooner or later, the news will explode. I will have a statement prepared for the media. Get ready."
Oh jolly, will you look? My grave is the size of an Olympic pool! How spacious. Sorry, big man.
Your boss was a good man that cared for you. But sometimes it gets overbearing. Very red flag. Do you think maybe that's why he's still single? I mean, he's got a lot going for him - eligible bachelor, CEO, and let's be real, he's pretty good-looking. But there's gotta be a reason, right?
Ladies, if you need a man you can call me.
ヾ(о-ω・)ノ⌒★
-
Kaiser smiled to himself.
The brightness of his phone deepened his smile into one of a Cheshire cat.
On his phone was a picture of you helplessly holding onto him as he savoured your lips.
"Aren't we cute together?" He said to no one in particular as he caresses the rose tattoo on his neck.
Oh, how the world so nicely revolves around him that fate has brought you back to him.
It would be wonderful if you could be in his embrace at this moment.
He puts down the phone and closed his eyes.
Be patient. Mein göttin.
-
"You should go back to sleep," Sae's soothing voice nearly put you to sleep as you struggled to stay awake.
You heard rustlings on the other end of the call, pretty sure he was in the middle of his training.
Oops.
"I made a fool out of myself today!" You lamented, snuggling deeper into your silky covers.
"Aren't you always a fool? What did you do this time? Lo siento. Estoy hablando con mi hermana-" You could hear another feint voice conversating with him. Must be his teammates. You yawned.
"- I am sure it is nothing too serious as always. You are tired, go sleep," Sae returned to the conversation.
"It is really really bad..." you spoke softly, rubbing your face onto the silk.
"Did you kill someone?"
"My boss looked like he almost died but no," You stretched your aching body, "I think I just got myself a boyfriend, more like I just told my boss a big lie that is about to be publicised...That guy is not even my boyfriend and when he hears of this garbage - oh boy is he definitely going to have a heart attack. I am in big trouble."
"You dug your own grave," Sae said, cooly.
"I know right, the grave is swimming pool sized."
"Who is the unlucky guy?"
"Kaiser Mikel?" You attempted to recall his surname.
Sae paused for a second before he replied, "Michael. Michael Kaiser?"
"Oh, you know him?"
"I do. He is a... good player. Sister, how did you even get involve with him?" This time, Sae sounded genuinely curious very unlike his usual disinterested self.
"You see," you hugged your bolster tightly, "some bugger quote on quote took a photo of us exchanging salivas."
"Excuse me?" Sae choked, "Exchanging salivas? Mierda-" You could imagine your brother's incredulous yet icked face right now. Well, he wanted to know and you delivered. 「(◔ω◔「)三
"You heard me right."
"I wish I did not just hear that. But Kaiser and you?" Sae did not fail to exaggerate the last part almost in a manner you did not enjoy.
"Why did that sound like you are mocking me?" You grumbled underneath your soft duvet.
"I don't think that guy will mind being your boyfriend if that helps," Sae shook his head thinking about the German prodigy.
"Really?" you exclaimed, your eyes sparkling with sleepy excitement.
“Yeah. He- Dame un momento. I have to go now. I'll send you a text message. Go to sleep now," he paused briefly, "and have a good night."
There the phone line goes. Silence.
As if Sae had actually cast a sleeping spell on you, your head sank back onto the plush pillow and you succumb to silky sheets pulling you into a dreamy languor.
A boyfriend sounds nice... right?
-
Ring. Ring. Ring.
The sound of incessant phone ringing filled your room, grumbling under the sheets, you unwillingly pick up the phone.
"Who is it?" You drawled on every word in a drowsy stupor.
"Guten morgen, mein engel!"
You ended the call.
When did you fall asleep? You were having such a nice conversation with your brother too.
As you glance towards the window, you notice that the sun has barely even risen. Feeling lethargic, you let out a groan while still in bed.
Five more minutes...
Your dark lashes fluttered shut as you inhaled the fresh scent of cedar from your sheets. You sank softly into the mattress as sleep slowly envelopes you-
Ring. Ring. Ring.
You moaned softly.
"Five more minutes..." You spoke quietly to the spirits in your room.
Ring. Ring. Ring.
"Five just five-"
Ring. RIng. RIng.
Your eyes snapped open, half awake and half annoyed.
"What is it?" Mouth still dry as you tried to sound as harsh as possible to the rude morning caller, but it came out sounding like a meek, saddened mouse.
"Is mein liebling still sleepy?" The timbre of the caller's voice sent chills down your spine.
You know this voice! You rubbed your sleepy eyes and cleared your dry throat, "Kaiser?"
"Yes, Liebling." He purred.
Your bare arms prickled, sending you chills.
You were still sleeping, right?
"Er- wwie komme ich zu Cologne (*how do i get to Cologne)?" You spouted a random German phrase you so happen to remember from your travels.
"You are very cute," he lightly chuckled.
Oh damn, maybe you were half asleep but that was a pretty nice-sounding chuckle. Still, you did not understand what he just said.
"Someone reached out to me and said you are very much in love with me and that we are in a loving relationship," he continued softly, clearly enunciating each and every word you did not understand, "I am very very flattered, Liebling."
You feigned laughter in response, not sure what you are laughing at but he was laughing too so you are safe.
"Yes, it is a joyous occasion," Kaiser laughed in tune with yours.
Seriously, what is this man saying? You thought to yourself between laughs.
☆〜(ゝ。∂)the end (for now) ☆〜(ゝ。∂)
sike! Extras!
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Sae is very unimpressed by Kaiser's courting of his sister. He does not know much outside of soccer but he sure as hell knows that Kaiser's method was, to say the very least, strange. He just hopes the German fella does not hurt his sister. That would be extremely troublesome.
<thank you, darlings for your endless love of reading this! My heart is full SMOOCH SMOOCH ଘ(੭ºัᴗºั)━☆゚*:.>
<also, how would you react if you met someone like Kaiser irl, because girlfriend he is screaming red flag to me>
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skyward-floored · 8 months
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Dawn part 4 analysis, here we go! At it again with my ramblings.
Starting off with THE GLORIOUS RETURN OF THE MAILMAN! The moment I saw the flag I was like :O HE’S BACK!!!
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(I also got the blue’s clues mail song stuck in my head)
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Hey look, it’s Warriors’ money! And the inkeeper who’s happily admiring the ridiculous amount of rupees Warriors now does not own!
Rip Warriors’ money. It will be dearly missed.
Also no vacancy?? I mean, it’s possible there’s other people staying there, or it’s just a small inn, but... it kinda looks like Warriors literally bought every available room there was. Mad lad.
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I (like everybody else lol) took a crack at figuring out who’s signature was who’s, based on their respective game’s Hylian texts/scripts, order of when they got there, and the OG tags on the comic. So here’s my best guesses—
1. Time is first, which makes sense based on him being the one to take Twilight to the inn
2. Hyrule appears to be next— his games don’t have a written script, but the hylian here is close to Legend’s, so I’m assuming it’s his, based on the fact that he was part of the next group to get to the inn.
3. Four is who I’m least sure about I’ll admit, but seeing as how he came with Hyrule, (and he’s the only Link left I couldn’t identify at all), I’m assuming it’s his.
4. Warriors we know for sure, since the tags say this signature is his. He gets a shout out for being the only Link who can actually write in the lines.
5. Wind seems to be next, as his hylian is very close to what’s here (his signature partially obscures Warriors’ XD)
6. Legend is who I’m going with for this one, but I’ll admit it could be Wild’s since their script is pretty darn close. But once again, based on when they all got to the inn, Legend would make the most sense to be here.
7. Sky is definitely here. His hylian is very unique compared to the others (I think it’s my favorite)
8. Wild is probably next, but same case as Legend, they could be swapped. But once again, probably not, since Wild was the last to get inside.
9. Twilight bringing up the rear! His hylian is unmistakable, and it makes sense that he’d mark his name last. I don’t think he could handle it until he woke up that morning, though I do wonder which arm he wrote it with...
(Rip Mr. Mailman in trying to figure all this out)
Moving on!
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It’s gotta be close to mid-morning by now based on the light, but Sky obviously does not handle waking up at dawn well. It’ll be interesting to see if he stays sleepy during the rest of this arc, or if he'll wake up a bit.
(Side note, Sky looks so soft and fluffy here, I want to hug him)
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Sky is so relatable in this update, he’s got some serious “I have no idea what’s going on” vibes. That first one he's got such a deer in the headlights look XD
The mailman is just like “you! I’ve been looking for you! Great to see you!” and Sky’s just “I have never met this man in my life” (probably forgot he actually did see him once (because he’s sleepy))
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Four letters, all different languages and dialects... I’m guessing at least one Zelda based on the seal on that blue letter (it seems fancier to me), but I don’t know about the rest. I would guess Malon for one, and maybe another Zelda? Warriors or Wild or Four’s Zelda maybe? Maybe Twilight got a letter from someone in Ordon, or the Resistance!
Only thing I do know is that there’s probably not one for Sky, since he wasn’t immediately like “letter for me! :D”
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Four trying to do something nice and fix Wild’s sword and this guy just laughs at him, rude 😤 At least he didn’t make a short joke, which was honestly what I was expecting. I mean I get knowing that your equipment won’t be enough for the job, but sheesh.
(Also the blacksmith’s goggles look a bit like Gondo’s in skyward sword’s, plus the ones the rescue knights wear, thought that was interesting).
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(Cool pose mode: engaged)
I love this panel!! They all decided to follow Four and help him out just like they did last time, fix the sword and get Wild a good, reliable weapon.
I’ve also never noticed how similar these guy’s hair looks before, especially Warriors and Hyrule’s— if Rulie’s hair was a little shorter and blonde, it would be pretty near identical. Very interesting...
(Plus Wind has the funniest expression, he's so cute)
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We interrupt this rambly analysis to bring you a brief moment of me yelling about Warriors' smile ABHDGFSFKHSBBG LOOK AT HIM that stupid cocky grin and the way he's rolling up his sleeve I'm *swoon*
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Four absolutely losing it over Warriors’ jab about teamwork is SO funny, Captain you have no idea how good your joke was. (also Four, bud, you good? Little hysterical there pal)
Also he looks so happy!!! Compare that to any of the faces he was making the night before, he's doing so much better. I’m so glad he’s happy and smiling now, even if it was just at a dumb joke :)
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I don’t even have anything to say about this panel. Just look at it. Glorious.
And one last thing...
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MULTILINGUAL WARRIORS HOLY CROW that's such a cool trait to give him, I am in love with it now that's awesome.
An amazing update as always, it was fantastic all around <3
344 notes · View notes
realisticfanfictions · 4 months
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Being Sanji's Girlfriend & Baratie's Head Waitress - Part 2.
Sanji x Waitress!Reader: Part One.
Working at Baratie wasn't without its challenges, and the fights that sprung up because of them weren't rare either. You and your boyfriend never sweated the small stuff, after all working in a high stress environment made you, well, stressed. But maybe some things can't be resolved that easily.
Tags: Sanji x Reader, Waitress!Reader, constant bickering, mostly fluff with some angst, (heavy) swearing.
A/N: I'm so glad the first one was well received! I'm pretty self-concious about my writing, but seeing everyone's hearts and reblogs has made me so happy! There's also been a ton of new people following this page, and I'm so appreciative you guys are liking my stuff enough to keep up to date with my writing <3.
Word Count is 5,427. Hope you enjoy!
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"What the hell was that?" You knew that this made you look like a crazy girlfriend, dragging your significant other into the cold room and locking the door behind you. You'd gotten a few curious and slightly concerned glances from other staff, but by this point they knew better than to intervene. White fog spewed from your mouth as you spoke, giving you the appearance of a mighty dragon ready to burn down anyone who stood in her way.
Sanji, who hadn't fought you the entire way here, rubbed his face with his hand and shoved the other into his pocket. "I was just trying to be friendly." He shrugged.
A cold breeze caused you to flinch, but you refused to show any weakness. "Bullshit." You hissed and gritted your teeth, unable to fathom this man's arrogance. "I'm not dumb, Sanji-"
"And I never said you were." Both hands were now in his pockets and he finally met your gaze. He looked tired and you could tell he was chewing on the inside of his cheek - a habit you knew stemmed from his nicotine addiction. But his forced eye contact didn't last long and his gaze soon drifted to the corner of the cold room. He let out a small sigh. "I'm sorry. I can't help what I say to women-"
You held up a hand. "I don't care about you miserably failing at flirting. Well, I do care, but that's beside the point." You took a breath, counted to five and stared at your boyfriend's beautiful blue eyes. "I know that you're upset, and though I am very annoyed at you, I will say that I appreciate you telling me you're sorry."
"So it is about the-"
"Sanji." He slowly closed his mouth and subtly nodded. He was listening. "I know that you like women, and that you'll move heaven and earth for one to glance your way. I know that. I knew that when I started going out with you." You licked your suddenly dry lips. "What I get upset about, is that you went over my head and spoke to my customers in a rather vulgar way. I know you think it's beneath you, but I take a lot of pride in what I do. I'm good at it. And when-" God, your lips were so dry. "And when you go over my head, take over my table, insult the place that took me in when I had nowhere else to go-when we had nowhere else to go, and then ignore my discomfort and make a joke of it?" You met his eyes. "I am your girlfriend, Sanji. Something that you're meant to love and cherish- like how- I can't-"
Before you realised it, you found yourself slowly enveloped by the love of your life. "Hey," He shushed you gently as he cradled you against his chest. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to make you feel that way." He murmured and placed a kiss against your temple. "My love, you're shaking. I didn't realise I made you this upset. Please, forgive me."
You couldn't help but laugh. "I'm just cold, dumbass. And still pissed at you." Despite what you said, you still buried your head in his chest and soaked up his warmth. It was then you realised how long it'd been since the two of you had been alone like this. Just soaking up each other's warmth and committing the other's smell, touch and the feel of their skin to memory. You're embarrassed to admit you forgot just how much you love his cologne. "Guess this is what happens when we don't have sex for a while."
He gave a breathy chuckle and leaned back enough just to press his lips against your forehead and stare into your eyes. "Well, I'd offer to remedy that, but I'm afraid the cold will affect my performance."
"Like you need an excuse for a bad performance."
"Oh, really?"
"Really."
His usual, charming smile stretched across his face and he licked his lips, before hungrily diving in and punishing you with a particularly brutal kiss. He softly moaned into the kiss, and pulled back enough for you to see the devilish look in his eye as he bent down to press a kiss to your neck.
The door suddenly flung open and Pattie groaned. "I should've known." He exclaimed and threw his towel at the both of you. "Move. I'm trying to get some stuff for dessert."
Sanji grew a wicked grin. "What a coincidence. I'm trying to get me some dessert too." He chuckled and moved in to continue his assault, but was thwarted by an incoming barrage of hits from the disgruntled chef.
Backed by the sound of Pattie yelling in disgust, you laughed and shook your head, worming out of Sanji's hold and skipping out of the cold room with said blond on your heels. You both quickly ducked out of the kitchen and into a small hallway where you turned around to look at him once more. "Thank you for listening to me, Sanji. I may have blown my lid a bit too much back there." You fished around in your pocket and pulled out your lighter. "Go take a smoke break."
"Darling-"
You pushed it into his hand. "Take a break, and have a smoke. If not for you, for me. Because I honestly can't handle you when you're being all bitchy."
His shoulders dropped and a tired smile replaced his worried expression. He wrapped his hands around your own and placed a kiss against your knuckles. "Thank you, my love." He exclaimed and you waved him off with a smile.
"Whatever, you wallowing wag. While you're walking, watch the weather and water, and warn the workers if we're wayward. We don't want any wild winds, or another wreck this week."
He smiled. "You still don't realise you do that, do you?"
You blinked. "Do what?"
A hearty chuckle escapes him and he presses a kiss to your forehead. "Don't worry about it." That damn smile of his made your heart flutter and while you were confused, you returned his kiss with a quick peak of his lips and watched as he walked off. You didn't understand why he was so weird, but you guess it's just part of dating someone.
Before you could go back to serving, a faintly familiar face poked his head around the corner. You squinted your eyes and watched as he walked around aimlessly. "Excuse me, are you lost?"
The boy in the straw hat turned his head in your direction and smiled when he noticed you. "Oh! You're (Y/N), our waitress!" He spun himself around and hastily walked up to you, almost tripping on the aging floorboards. "I didn't get to introduce myself," He tipped his hat. "My name is Monkey D. Luffy, and I'm going to be King of the Pirates!"
That made you pause. "Oh." You dumbly said, not really sure how to respond. "That's... nice. But this is a staff only area-"
"You're a good fighter." The boy- Luffy you corrected yourself, interrupted and leaned in uncomfortably close. "Well, Sanji's a really good fighter, but you're pretty good too!" He made a pistol with his fingers and pretended to shoot. "You seem good with a gun. And the way you backed up Sanji and knocked that guy out? So good!"
Again, you weren't really sure how to respond. "I was only helping out, but thanks, I guess." You put your hands on your hips. "Is there something I can help you with?"
He tilted his head in confusion. "No, I'm fine."
You blinked. "But you're in a staff only area."
He nodded. "I am."
"...And you know you're not a staff member?"
He shook his head. "I'm not."
You sighed and squeezed the bridge of your nose. "I mean, why are you here?"
A smile returned to his face. "Oh, why didn't you just say so!" He waved his hand around as if announcing something great. His eyes wandered around the room, as if searching for something in the distance. You were intrigued. "I'm trying to find..."
You leaned in. "You're trying to find...?"
"Yes, I am trying to find..." His eyes slowly drifted downward until they met yours. They sparkled with great mysteries waiting to be unveiled, a sense of adventure and bravery and fearlessness that you couldn't help but admire. He smiled. "A toilet!"
Before you could stop yourself, you smacked him upside the head. "Don't pretend like it's some big, life-altering explanation, you dumbass!" With each word, you brought your hand down to slap him on any part of his body you could touch. "Besides, there's three signs for the bathroom on the way here!"
He held up his hands, trying to block your attacks. "Ow! I'm sorry! Stop hitting me!"
You rolled your eyes and stepped back, crossing your arms and glaring at him. "You're such an idiot. Fine, come with me. You can use the staff bathroom, it's right down this hall."
Luffy slowly uncurled himself and nodded. "Thanks a lot! I was sure I was going to crap my pants, you're a life saver!"
"I didn't need to know that." You sighed and beckoned him to follow with a finger. "So, King of the Pirates, huh?"
He nodded, his straw hat bobbing with him as you both walked. "Yep! We have a map to the Grand Line, and we're going to find the One Piece."
You laughed. "Only idiots with a death wish go after that thing."
"Hm, not really. I don't have a death wish." He replied with a shrug.
With a dramatic sigh, you playfully shove him. "Sure you don't, straw boy. What's next? You're gonna tell me you don't plunder and raid villages wherever you go?"
He shook his head. "We don't."
You quirked an eyebrow. "Don't yet?"
He shook his head again. "No."
"Fine then, where are you going to get money?"
"Finding the One Piece will give us all the money we'll ever need."
"And until then?"
"I don't know, but we'll figure something out."
You scoffed. "They always say that."
He tilted his head. "Do you know?"
"I do. You can kidnap a princess and random her, rob an orphanage, maybe even take a business hostage and demand money or you'll start executing patrons."
Luffy stopped and stared at you. "That's really dark."
You shrugged and continued walking. "That's what you have to do if you want to find a crazy man's last fuck-you to the government."
His smile turned into a frown. "You don't think it's real?"
"I think that Gold Rodger wanted to bring about the age of pirates, and he did." You explained. "Doesn't matter if it's real or not. Its impact on the world is more valuable than any treasure he ever got his hands on."
Within a second, he was in front of you with a cheeky grin. "Ah ha! So you do think it's real!"
A sigh escaped you. "I honestly don't care enough to believe if it's real or not. What is real is the pain, and death it's caused. Nations tearing each other and themselves apart just to find a glimpse of a shred of evidence that horrid thing is real. And men setting sail and abandoning everything just because they think finding a gold chest is worth losing their family over. Then those same men kill other men with families just like theirs, spreading their filth and disease to every home, town and village just because they can't stand the thought of a man doing the right thing by taking care of his family."
Luffy tilted his head. "You sound like you care a lot."
A tense silence filled the air and you stared at this strange, but oddly charming character. So innocent, so naive. He had no idea of the world you knew, the one that you grew up in. It's rare to find someone this optimistic, or sheltered. You pointed behind him. "Bathroom's there. Leave when you're done."
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To say that you were affected by his words would've been both an understatement, and a poor choice of phrasing. You weren't affected, per say. They rubbed you the wrong way, and brought up memories you would rather just forget. It didn't help that they ordered one of everything on the menu, and you were constantly bringing out dishes to a smiling, unbothered Luffy who just shoveled food into his mouth. It was actually really impressive, and you were glad that they didn't come last week when the Baratie did that eating competition. You're pretty sure you probably would've gone out of business.
With a perfectly manufactured smile, you set down the plate of ribs on the only available space between piles of plates and stacked glasses. "And this is the final dish - our limited-time French-Style Ribs braised in red wine and cranberry." You straightened up and the plate was instantly pulled towards the centre of the table. The man in the pirate attire groaned, but he shoved a rib in his mouth and moaned. "I hope everything's been to your satisfaction. Can I get anything else for you tonight? A refill perhaps?"
The orange-haired woman smiled. "We're fine for now, thanks." With a nod, you turned to leave. "When does the bar close?"
"It's open all night, but we do a deep clean around three to four in the morning. So you may not be able to get anything on tap, but prepackaged drinks are always available." The words flowed off your tongue like a rehearsed speech, probably because it was. She smiled and nodded her thanks, before turning back to the conversation they were in. As you walked away, you spotted a certain red-haired pig-tail wearing waitress near the till. "Macy."
Said waitress flinched and slowly turned to you. "Yes, Ma'am?"
More than a little annoyed, you walked up to her and lent against the counter. "Why are you at the till?" She opened and closed her mouth like a fish, trying and failing to start a proper sentence until you stopped her with a hand. "Macy, there was one rule; don't touch the till. What are you doing right now?"
She paused. "Touching the till?"
You nodded. "Good job, you got something right." With a small glare, you pushed past her and looked at the total that she was charging, then compared it to the bill laying on the countertop. "Unless they've agreed to add a ฿65 tip on top of your 10%, I guess we've just found out who's been messing with the till."
"I-"
"You're done for the night." Her shocked expression turned into a bitter snarl and she began to tug at her apron. "Macy, you've got the body of a used fucking tube of toothpaste. No one wants to see you undress here, get the fuck out. You'll make the customers sick." She gasped, but you dismissed her with a wave and she stormed out of the restaurant. You sighed and opened the drawer beneath the counter, pulling out the book of paid receipts and bookings. Both luckily and unluckily, it was getting close to end-of-shift which meant that you had time to fix Macy's mess, but that the mess was probably smeared dog shit on a window at this point.
Grabbing out your pen and a calculator, you mentally prepared yourself for the long night ahead, when you felt something touch your back. "Hello, my darling." Sanji greeted with a kiss to the back of your neck, then rested his chin on your shoulder to watch what you were doing while his hand lazily stroked your side.
With a sigh, you turned your head to kiss him. "Hey, jerkface. Glad to see someone with a shred of intelligence." You greeted, then scribbled down some notes. "Someone's fucked the till again, and screwed the customers' out of at least three-hundred berri from what I can see."
His smile dropped and he reached for the book, tilting it so that he can see it. "Closer to five-hundred than anything. This table didn't even order the Lobster Thermidor, what the hell's going on."
You slammed your pen down in frustration and leaned back against him. "No idea, but I'm going to have to make some calls and refund tables." He wrapped his arm around your stomach and kissed the back of your ear which made you sigh and rub your face. "I need to make a list and figure out how much we fucked people out of money." You happened to look over at Luffy's table. They looked like they were toasting. "Can you bill them? It'd help a lot."
He smiled and took the piece of paper you had offered him. "Of course, my love. And give me a list of the rich pricks you want me to call. We'll divide and conquer."
"What did I do to deserve you?" You asked as he picked up the golden dish used to store cash.
"You, my love, didn't need to do anything." He pressed a kiss to your forehead and then your lips, before turning around and walking over to do as you asked.
Turning back to your mammoth task, now with a smile, you picked up your pen again and started to scribble down the sum total of every receipt that was put in by Macy. It was a good call by Zeff to bar everyone else but yourself from accessing the till. It was pretty easy to differentiate your neat and straightforward ones from Macy's abominations, but it still didn't make it any less painful. The Baratie didn't even serve quiches, so why would she even put that in there?
The telltale sound of Sanji's shoes smacking against the floorboards broke your concentration, and you looked up confused. "That was fast-" You were interrupted by him flashing you what was on the bill. You frowned at his abrupt interruption, but then squinted and jolted back slightly to look at your boyfriend. "What the shit is a 'treasure tab'?"
"We're going to find out." He said with a smile and walked past you to the kitchen. This was going to be interesting.
Just as you thought, the kitchen door slammed open and Zeff's wide, intimating frame appeared in the doorway. "Who the hell is Monkey D. Luffy?"
Luffy, sweet and innocent Luffy, popped his head out of his booth and waved his milkshake. "Here!" Zeff locked onto him and marched toward the young boy.
"You seem to be confused about the rules of the house," You and Sanji, who had just come out of the kitchen, exchanged knowing glances and you placed down your pen. Led by your boyfriend, you grabbed a jug of water while he grabbed a tray of complimentary scones and he slowly walked around the scene that was unfolding. "But Baratie doesn't offer credit. You eat, you pay." You both stopped at a nearby empty table. You started to examine the glasses in detail, admiring the way the light hit the material, while Sanji wiped the table with a piece of lettuce someone forgot to clean up.
Setting down his glass, Luffy looked up at Zeff. "I think you're confused." Sanji and you shared a look. "The meal has already been paid for. I just haven't given you the money yet."
Pretending to look around the room, you caught the stern, no-shits-given look Zeff was offering the kid. "Yeah, and how's that?"
Luffy smiled. "You can add it to my treasure tab."
You and Sanji snickered at the tone in Zeff's voice. "And what, pray tell, is that?"
"A way to get your ass beat." You mumbled and Sanji quietly shushed you with a smile, trying to hear the rest of what was being said.
Still not realising what's happening, Luffy kept talking. "I may not look like a big deal yet, but you're talking with the future King of the Pirates. And as soon as I find the One Piece, I'm gonna come back here, pay this bill in full, and with interest."
Zeff chuckled. "I got a better idea." And yanked Luffy out of his booth, dragging the confused pirate to the kitchen.
A sigh escaped you. "That certainly didn't disappoint." You commented and picked up Sanji's makeshift lettuce-rag, pocketing it to throw out later. "Guess we have a new busboy."
Sanji shook his head, but kept his eyes on the door. "Wouldn't be good at anything besides dishes." He said and paused for a second. You could see the metaphorical gears in his head turning, before he nodded toward the kitchen. "Hold on."
"Sanji, don't-" But it was too late, the love of your life had walked off, probably to rejoin the line. Your fists balled up and you let out a frustrated groan, your heels clicking as you followed after him. "Sanji! Don't piss him off. Sanji-"
The doors swung open as the blond barged in the kitchen with you on his heels. Your words fell on deaf ears and you rolled your eyes at Zeff who looked between you two confused. "Oy, oy. What do you think you're doing?"
You threw up your hands, but helped Sanji shrug off his coat. "I tried to stop him." You said as you wrapped his jacket around your arm and lent against the wall behind you.
The blond scoffed and held up a hand. "Com on, old man. Enough's enough-"
"Put the jacket back on, little Eggplant. You're not done with your shift yet." Zeff's face was tired and stern as always, and all you wanted to do was pull Sanji back and apologise for the extra stress. However, you knew that the two were stubborn and that would only cause more trouble than it's worth.
Sanji's tone suddenly sharpened. "Let me back on the line, or I walk." You almost said something, but considering you said something similar this afternoon, you settled for a glare.
"You can walk right back into the ocean for all I care. You cook another meal like that in my kitchen, it's going right where the last one did."
"You can kick me out of the kitchen all you like. I'll never be a waiter."
"Well that's fine by me, because you sure as hell are never gonna be a cook in my restaurant. Have you got that?"
Your heart broke seeing your boyfriend's face when he glanced over at you. He was so angry, and hurt, and upset. His hands were balled into fists, but you just shook your head. It wasn't worth it. His gaze shifted back to the man who had taken the both of you in, and then he turned heel, storming out of the kitchen via the hallway.
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"So it was Macy, then?" When you nodded, Zeff sighed and held his face in his palm. The two of you were alone on the balcony overlooking the ocean. You were all on a thirty minute break before the next service, and you'd stumbled across the old man while trying to get some peace and quiet. The man you both admired and respected more than anyone was sat beside you tiredly rubbing his face. "And where is she now?"
You fought back what you really wanted to say, and simply shrugged, picking up your glass and taking a sip. "I sent her home for the night. Didn't want to see her fucking face, the red-haired bitch."
He shifted in his chair and leaned forward toward you, pointing a finger in your direction. "There is no talk like that in the Baratie."
You rolled your eyes and put your glass down. "It's not a big deal. Everyone here curses-"
"But you never use such vulgar language when talking about a woman." He said, his tone firm and leaving no room for arguing. "I always taught both you and that boyfriend of yours to never speak badly about, or to, a woman. Just because you're twenty-one now, doesn't mean a thing. Get that?" Ever since you were fifteen, he's drilled his way of life into your head. From scrubbing the decks every time you dropped food, to spending late nights learning the difference between the various cutlery the Baratie offered, it was almost like his life's mission to turn you into a mini-him. To this day, you couldn't eat salad with a table fork, even though the minute difference between a salad fork and a table fork were so inconsequential they were practically the same fucking thing.
You bit the inside of your lip. "Well that bitch-"
"Macy."
The condensation floating slowly down your glass seemed to be more interesting than his face. "Macy has ruined all the work I've done to make the Baratie a place where you can just sit down and enjoy a good meal with the best service around. You know, I've had to deal with so much shit. More than anyone in this goddamn place. All the harassment explained away as jokes and if I'm uncomfortable with it, I'm just 'not getting the joke'. And then having to spend hours listening to the most intolerable stories about slick, rich pricks with small dicks bitching about their toxic chicks with plastic tits. And expecting me to not spit or get sick when they talk about me like I'm some quick flick." You took a breath, counted to five, and licked your lips. "But it's not enough that she'll get away with it. You also won't let me complain about her."
He sighed. "She isn't going to get away with it." You scoffed and raised your glass to take another sip, but a hand under your chin guided your gaze to him. "Look at me." Hesitantly, you lifted your eyes to meet his. "She," He spoke slowly, his intense blue eyes piercing into mine in a way that made you feel small. "Is going to be dealt with." His hand released your chin and migrated upwards to rest atop your head, softly patting your head like he used to when you were younger. "You've done well, little Sprout." You sucked in a breath and nodded, but your pseudo-confidence wasn't fooling the old man. "And if any of these 'rich pricks with small dicks' ever bothers you again, tell me. Nothing is worth you being treated like a sack of shit over. Not the Baratie, not anything."
A fake chuckle wormed its way out of you, trying to lighten the atmosphere. "Thanks, Dad."
A smile spread across his face and he wrapped an arm around you, pulling you in and pressing his lips to your forehead. Zeff smelled like a thousand scents, oregano, paprika, and a dash of vanilla extract, but his warm touch and the feeling of his scruffy beard against your scalp only felt like one thing: safe. You hadn't realised you closed your eyes until you felt him pull away. "Now then, I've got some calls to make."
With a groan, he got up to his feet. "Are you sure? My waitress, my mistake."
He shook his head. "My Baratie, my mistake." He walked past, patting you on the head as he left the balcony.
It was time to face your boyfriend, and you were dreading it. With his coat jacket wrapped over your arm, you slowly made your way down the hall to the kitchen. The doors were swinging slightly, so you knew that someone had just walked in, and you took a deep breath, walking over to the entrance - ready to go in.
"...banned from the line." You paused when you heard Sanji's voice float through the air.
"But that meal you cooked was incredible!"
A smile graced your face and you lent against the wall just beside the doors. "The True Bluefin Sauté?"
"Yeah!"
"You tried it?"
"Yeah, of course I did! I couldn't help myself. I didn't think the food here could get any better. You know, you're a really good cook. Why is Zeff making you wait tables?"
"'Cause he's jealous. I should be running this place, but the old man's so stubborn it'll never happen."
"So, that's your dream. To be head chef of the Baratie."
A pause. "I guess-"
"No, it's not." Both men looked up at you when you entered the double doors.
The other voice who you now realised was Luffy looked at you confused. "It's not?"
Sanji laughed breathlessly and looked at the table he was sitting at, flicking open his lighter and closing it again. "It's not." He confirmed. You smiled and walked over to where your boyfriend sat, draping his coat over an empty chair.
"So you love to cook. You just don't want to cook here?"
The blond grabbed out a cigarette and looked to you where you had taken up residence next to him. When you nodded, he ignited the lighter you gave him earlier and lit the end of his cigarette. He took a drag and hummed. "There's... this place," He started and his eyes drifted to yours. You both shared a small smile. "Where you can find ingredients from all four seas. East Blue, West Blue, North and South - they call it the All Blue. Nobody knows where it is, but..." His gaze lifts heavenward. "There's fish there that have never been seen. You know, rare seaweeds, spices that have never been tasted. It's a cook's paradise, and I'm gonna find it one day." He looked back at you and placed his hand over yours. "That's my dream."
Luffy's gaze was soft, but also intense. "If you want to cook, you should cook. Don't let some stubborn old man stand in the way of your dream." He smiled. "Stand up to him! Tell him what you want."
"It's more..." Sanji looked over at you. "Complicated, than that."
The young boy shrugged. "I don't really do complicated either."
You scoffed. "For someone who claims to be a pirate, you don't like a lot of things that pirates are known for."
Luffy looked at you. "For someone who doesn't like pirates, you sure do act like one."
Before you could say anything, frantic banging on the staff exit caught you all off guard. Begging for help, a man tumbled in and fell to the floor, barely having the strength to cling onto the countertop. On instinct, you went to pull out your gun but stopped when your boyfriend raised a hand to you and marched toward the man. Being the good Samaritan you certainly weren't, Sanji and Luffy helped him up onto a chair. "Are you okay?"
The man's voice sounded croaky and scratchy. "I'm so hungry, please."
Sanji nodded and moved to the stove. "Okay, you got it, man. How does some corned-beef fried rice sound?"
Pattie, appearing from his break, quickly stood up and followed after him. "What do you think you're doing?" He demanded.
The blond didn't bother to look at him and you gave the pirate a warning look before moving to the fridge. "At Baratie, everyone eats." The love of your life explained as you rifled through the fridge for the ingredients he would need.
"And who's gonna pay for that? This is a business, we can't be giving handouts to every down-on-his-luck pirate that washes up."
"If a man is hungry, I feed him. Thank you, darling." He said when you handed him the beef.
Pattie looked at you for help, then back at him when you just shrugged. "Zeff kicked you off the line."
"Yeah, well, I don't see the old man here. Do you?"
The other chef looked at you once more, and you shrugged at him again. You both knew it was a losing battle, and so he waved his hand dismissively. "Fine, your funeral."
You couldn't keep your eyes off the strange pirate while he sat and ate, and explained what had happened to him. Sanji was way too nice a person for people like him to deserve. You knew pirates, and a part of you was tempted to hide the silverware.
"He's a good guy." Luffy, who was slowly becoming less and less of a pirate in your eyes, said and you nodded.
"Sanji's brilliant." The words came easily. "He's the kind of guy that only comes once a generation. He's a dumbass, sure, but he's a good dumbass."
He thought for a second, before turning to Sanji. "You know, if Zeff doesn't appreciate you, you should join my crew."
Your chair scraped as you stood and left the room.
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A/N: I am genuinely loving writing this! As said above, I normally tend to leave the reader's backstory and personality ambiguous, but this character has just taken on a personality of her own! This one is a bit longer because I felt like there wasn't enough content in this upload to justify it. I wouldn't want to waste everyone's time with like, two conversations. I'm kinda happier with the longer/more in-depth parts because I get to spend more time building up characters and relationships, and I'm less tempted to accidentally write and spoil things that the OPLA fans haven't seen yet.
Also, I've grappled with the ages for a while now, and I've officially decided that this AU will have Sanji and (Y/N) be 21. Normally I'd leave the reader's age ambiguous, but since age is important to this story, it's needed to be put in there.
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mikkaeus · 10 months
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house md hilson fic rec - medium to long fics (10k+)
Other house rec lists: short fics | episode tags | postcanon | infidelity trope (all of these are mutually exclusive apart from the infidelity one) // Edit: I added the longer postcanon fics to this reclist as well because this one got the most traction!
These are all House/Wilson unless otherwise stated. Before we get into the fics, here are some of my fave authors that have written several house fics.
fourteencandles: im literally in love with them . 10/10 writing no notes. also long fics?? hello???
ictus: this author has the range! from emotional to fluff to funny. very smooth writing. all of their fics have different vibes which was fun to read. they’re all very good. 
Transformatron: fics that are transcendent and porny, all featuring a d/s undertone or theme (wilson as the dom)
Namaste (livejournal / ff.net): Some short fics, some much longer ones. Mostly gen focussing on H&W friendship, with some fics on canon pairings. Interesting character studies and discerning prose.
In order of length. *faves, ***underrated faves
*Brain Damage by fourteencandles (8k) (Ok I know this isn’t over 10k but I wanted all of their fics on one post and it’s close enough so.) This was brilliant. Like a real episode of House, with Wilson as the unfortunate patient-of-the-week, with bonus House/Wilson. Characterisation was bang on, and the plot was original and engaging and had a satisfying conclusion. Love to see House taking care of Wilson.
Down to the Water + Bound for Home by blackmare (~10k) Aftermath of season 4. House and Wilson go on a road trip. Quiet and sad and fragile, with excellent writing. This fic appears to have been fairly well known in lj days but I don't think a lot of newer people know about it.
*A Smaller World by fourteencandles (10k) The thing between them works, if Wilson doesn't push for more. God I’m so soft. I have so many feelings!!! In love with this established relationship hilson, still a little precarious, but with Wilson adapting, and House willing to put in effort.
*What's Past by fourteencandles (10k) The guy who used to have Wilson's job comes back for a visit, and it turns out they have more in common than Wilson ever knew.
*Touch Therapy by nomad (10k) It's not that House needs the human contact. It's just that when you're sharing an apartment, these things happen sometimes. Light hearted and funny, canon divergence from when Wilson’s staying on House's couch in s2. This is pretty much the homosexual waters have started flowing in House's direction post. Excellent dialogue.
***not another medical drama series (10k) by captainharkness Retelling of season 1 with House and Wilson as an established relationship. Great slice of life stories! Ongoing. The first is H/W POV, the second is Cameron, and the third is Chase. My favourite is definitely the second one (someone else’s story). I adore seeing H/W through the ducklings’ eyes. 
Synchronicity by copperbadge (10k) Dead patients, car wrecks, drug overdoses, journalists, Comatose Charlie, and orange chicken. Must be love.
systemic by ictus (10k) Ever since Wilson moved in, House has presented with some inexplicable symptoms. Fortunately, he has a team of talented doctors to aid him with his diagnosis. Season 2 fic! This one is funny and sweet and overall a great read.
Rush Down Darkness by Starlingthefool (10k) House MD/World War Z crossover. Told mainly through interview dialogue from house’s pov. Engaging story. House/Wilson definitely takes a backseat to the plot — there’s no grand getting together or anything. That's not to say it's not about them though, because there were still lots of good moments (good in the sense that my heart hurts). More succinctly, it has the vibes of an established relationship fic., although it isn't technically one.
Defensive Strategies by Milkshake Butterfly (~10k) (lj) In which Wilson is tired of being asked out by women when he's not ready to date again, and naturally House proposes a simple solution: pretend to be together. An enjoyable read.
******Commonplace and True by celestialskiff (11k) It would be a simple story--House and Wilson meet at a medical conference, have sex, and enjoy each other's company--but nothing is ever easy, or simple. Explores Wilson's relationship with House, with women, and with himself. House and Wilson throughout the years — with the version of canon where Wilson has cheated on every wife and girlfriend with House. When I tell you I am FROTHING!!! Pining while fucking?? The way it’s never the right time?? The greed of wanting to have your cake and eat it too? (That one’s specifically for Wilson, our beloved three-wives guy.) The vibes are immaculate. The prose is elegant verging on poetic. I’m eating this fic whole and it will be on my mind always. It is THE hilson fic for me. It is criminal that this fic has been up since 2012 and it only has 200 kudos. Go read it immediately & give the author some love.
***Declarations of Independence by Namaste (ff.net, also on livejournal) (11k) House and winter, throughout the years. I really enjoyed this. Excellent writing. Copy pasting a part of a comment by bedawyn which articulates why this fic is unique better than I can: “So far, I've seen a lot of focus in the fanfic (and the eps) on the pain and the Vicodin, but very little awareness of the practical aspects of limited mobility and the emotional impact of those even apart from the pain. So this was a very nice change.”
***Rule of Three by Transformatron (11k) (House/Wilson/Foreman) Foreman sees something he shouldn't have. And, maybe, wants something he shouldn't have, too. This was well written and super hot, with fun dialogue and descriptions that do justice to the excellent writing of the show itself. Foreman is faithfully characterised in a way that made me sympathetic. Also H/W outsider perspective as a third is such a treat to read. Lower me into my grave!!!!
*Warning Signs by out_there (12k) Excerpt: House looked to the left, staring down at the open box. Wilson knew that expression on his face: House was torn between denying it all and gleefully acknowledging his schemes. Normally, his ego won out and, like a comic super villain, he'd explain all. Wilson just needed to stay quiet and wait. This fic was fantastic. I am disgustingly fond. Superb characterisation. Light hearted and funny.
The Oncologist Trap by zulu (13k) (2007) House subtly seduces Wilson. Somehow.
The Line of Thought by tevinterimperium (13k) House and Wilson pretend to be together to play a prank on the ducklings, which is an extremely plausible scenario. From the perspective of the ducklings. Set sometime after 3x15: Half-Wit.
hail mary by ictus (13k) A post-canon fix it! In the weeks since finishing the show and reading this fic there are times I forgot that this wasn’t canon. It’s such a believable (and well-researched) alternate ending that feels like an actual episode.
Son of Mine by simoneallen (14k) Sherlock is House’s long-lost kid. Usually I’m not a fan of cross-over fics but I enjoyed this one. Established relationship on the johnlock side, getting together on the hilson side.
***hearts turn red by ictus (14k) In my head this is the counterpoint to Commonplace and True. When I found it after reading that one it really was a holy shit two fucking cakes?? moment. The delicious infidelity vibes are similar, but the vibes of the writing are pretty different -- whereas the above fic has a more quiet, subdued atmosphere, this one has more snappy prose and it’s more light-hearted with funny moments as well as emotional ones. It’s not just the infidelity theme that makes me crazy about both of them though; it’s how they play on the great tragedy of House and Wilson. In the author’s own words: In a way they do feel a little bit doomed to never quite be on the same page with each other until the very end of the series and by then it's too late. Of course, in these fics, they’re rescued earlier than the end, but the wretched vibes remain. Also, I’m obsessed with this line: By Wilson’s read, House is somehow simultaneously joking and sincere: Schrödinger’s sexual advance. That is the entire fucking show.
An Inconvenient Truth by annathaema (15k) Wilson helps out Cuddy and reveals something about himself in the process. House freaks out accordingly. Also features banana-colored babies, the men's room, and Skee-Ball.
*at the rind by ShanaStoryteller (19k) An AU where Wilson experiences all the near death moments House has in the show as a series of nightmares. Set between 1.19 and 2.05, but spoilers for the whole show. Protective Wilson!! We love to see it. I also like Wilson’s characterisation here - you can very much see how not-normal he is. We love unhealthy co-dependency.
***Esopus Creek by shaycat (24k) An eighty-year-old widower by the name of Eugene Skinner ventures out one September day in upstate New York for his usual morning activity - fly fishing. His leisurely hobby is interrupted by a bickering pair nearby in the river. That chance encounter with Greg House and James Wilson changes the course of his life. Told from the perspective of the last friend the boys make on their final road trip. This was the perfect post season 8, Wilson-still-dies fic. A sad fic but not a depressing one. It’s quiet and heartwarming, in a bittersweet way. Highly recommend. It has great use of outsider POV — I’m always a sucker for it but it worked particularly well in this case to have the angst but not be drowning in it. Also I just really liked the OC.
***Howler Tone by baffledbear (25k) The calls always happen late at night, and they're extremely sporadic, with weeks, sometimes months bridging between them. They talk on the phone otherwise, of course; about patients, or dinner plans, or carpooling. Typical stuff. But the calls that always end a certain way always start a certain way. Wilson is so repressed but so attracted to House. House is taking as much as he can get while still remaining in relative safety. Together they push a platonic relationship to the absolute limits of plausible deniability. Overall totally realistic within the canon of the show — the natural step up from the gay chicken already depicted. It’s just such a perfect scenario for them! That combined with silky smooth prose, faithful characterisation and accurate dialogue makes this fic is a definite hilson favourite and also a hilson-thesis fic.
*The Open Road by Pun (25k) A fandom classic. Road trip fic set in the earlier seasons. It's good; read it.
*He Won't Tell You That He Loves You by hellshandbasket (25k) [In which Nolan pulls at the Wilson thread, and House can't stop it all from unraveling. Repression is a hell of a drug.] Early s6. Another fandom classic that is worth its salt.
no need to worry (making up your mind) by scribespirare (25k) House makes the mistake of telling his mother he can't join her for Christmas because of his new boyfriend. Somehow, this becomes Wilson's problem. Cute and fun. I put off reading fake-dating fics because I was worried about them being OOC but this one definitely wasn’t!
***Sticks and Stones by Transformatron (25k) (WIP) House has an innovative new idea for managing his chronic pain. Wilson’s not sure he approves - but when has House ever asked for permission? This is such a great concept I am climbing the walls!!! D/s with House as the sub. The story is currently still at pre-relationship stage, with House experimenting with BDSM and Wilson being unhappy with the proceedings (for some unknown reason /s). Also the writing is nice and snappy with some great figurative language that manages to incorporate medical themes impressively well. 
Fresh Feeling by justkeeptrekkin (30k) House is tricked into going on a team-building trip with his colleagues. He does far more bonding with Wilson than anyone else. Funny and well written. The team interactions are very cute.
***Tracking Time by Namaste (37k) (ff.net) A look at House and Wilson's friendship over the years and how it has changed from their meeting through the end of the first season. I don’t usually read long genfics but this one was exceptional. I like Namaste’s take on House and Wilson’s characters. And they are a very good storyteller — one thing that you don’t tend to see as much of in fanfiction is the old adage of ‘show not tell’. The writing in this fic is careful and subtle, and lets you read between the lines, making it so that no part of the 37k words is a drag to read.
*The Body Found by fourteencandles (46k) Wilson's missing. When I tell you I cried... Premium angst & hurt/comfort. Excellent dialogue with some alternating POV (House mainly, but you also get the three ducklings & Cuddy).
You Already Know How This Will End by fourteencandles (46k) What if House had gone to rehab right after/around "Merry Little Christmas"? (3.10) This fic was interesting. It’s told in a series of short vignettes with a variety of different perspectives. It’s not really a hilson fic (or a fic for any ship). It just explores the characters. I did wish for more hilson but it’s a good read (I mean, it’s fourteencandles). The one hilson scene near the end where they hire a hooker in Atlantic City lives in my head rent free. Warning that the ending is rather abrupt and I didn’t find it satisfying, but I think it works for this kind of story, in a way. Messy people and their complicated relationships, with a lot of loose ends left untied, because that’s just what life is. 
***For Every Closed Door by starlingthefool (around 50k?) (lj) Overview of the chapters (14 with 4 interludes and an epilogue) is on the author’s lj (scroll down).  House MD/Dead Like Me crossover.  I love this fic a lot! It’s canon divergence from Season 3. House gets killed in a freak accident and becomes a reaper, remaining in the mortal world to harvest souls, able to interact with people but not be recognisable to those that know him. As the author says, this is an Afterlife!Fic and therefore a deathfic. They also said it’s not depressing — which is true, because it’s more plotty than an angstfest, and there are lots of light-hearted parts, but it is definitely heartbreaking at points. I literally cried all the way through the last chapter. Happy ending though!!! Don’t worry about the cross-over aspects. I haven’t seen Dead Like Me, and as far as I can tell, it just takes the premise of the show. I’m glad I found this fic whilst trawling 2000s livejournal because it’s really a hidden gem. Great plot, dialogue, compelling OCs — the whole package! I got so emotionally invested in the story. I think there were maybe a few parts that were a little unpolished but just keep reading. It’s really worth it. 
*A Modest Proposal and Involuntary Commitment series by ignaz (98k) The one where House and Wilson get married so Wilson can’t testify against House in the Tritter arc.  I have an unfortunate habit of downloading fics and then forgetting to bookmark & comment once I’m done, so I don’t have anything detailed to say about this one, but it’s a classic and a favourite of mine.
Twenty Years of Stealing My Food by hwshipper (100k) A backstory taking place over twenty years, from how House and Wilson met all the way to canon. A reimagining of their fucked up, magnetic relationship, with a straightforward writing style. They get together nearly as soon as they meet and maintain a steady open relationship whilst cheating on their various girlfriends and wives throughout the years. 
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satorubrain · 1 year
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Heyy <3
Can i have *another* request for the child eater Gojo~ how he would wake us up:
Normally (everyday)
To be sweet~
In an emergency~
and To be a pain!
Thank you!! i'm looking so forward to this!!!
Pairing: Gojo Satoru x Reader.
Tags: Fluff, slight angst.
Synopsis: How Satoru wakes you up.
A/N: WELL THEN I HOPE U ENJOY THIS BBY <3
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Normally.
Lets consider this is the normal one but the real normal is "to be a pain"
He wouldn't. He doesn't even want to get up. But your phone is too far from his reach and it's too comfortable to leave. He nuzzles in the crook of your neck, inhaling your sweet scent mixed with your lotion.
"Babeeee" he whines. "Your alarm has been going off for the last 15 minutes? Think you can do something about it please?"
"Mn. 5 more minutes pleasee" You mumble in your sleep, head buried in the pillow, eliciting a giggle from him.
It's a daily thing and both of you knew that. The 5 minutes might turn into 5 hours and you'll still somehow manage to doze off without a worry in your sleepyhead.
He hugs you a little tighter before dragging you up along with him, rocking back and forth with you, saying sweet nothings in your ear waking you up (mostly because if he annoys you in the morning, he'd be found dead in the next two seconds).
To be sweet.
This usually happens when you return late at night from a week long mission or when he fully knows you've been having a hard time recently, he tries his best to be extra sweet.
He wakes up a little early, drawing you a bath so you can relax. While the water is filling up he gets you breakfast, since he's prohibited from cooking but at least he knows how to make your favourite kind of tea.
Giving you a gentle kiss on your cheek as he slides an arm under your back, helping you get up.
"Good morning, sweet. I've got you breakfast and drawn a bath for you. What do you want first..... Or perhaps you want me?" He mischievously jokes earning a smack on the shoulder from you.
In an emergency.
I dont really imagine what kind of emergencies he might have. But I can think of three to be specific.
Case 1:
If anything that wakes him is your phone ringing because someone called you at an ungodly time.
Thankfully before it could even bother you, he picks it up just to find out about an emergency exorcism of a special grade curse that appeared out of nowhere. All it did was annoy him, he was irritated by the higherups who decided to summon you at 4 in the morning.
No he still doesn't wake you up. Instead he decides to solve your problem and not bother your peace.
Giving you a quick peck on your forehead, whispering "sleep tight, sweets. I will be right back" to which you mumble random incomprehensible words, which was enough encouragement for him. It doesn't even take him an hour to finish up your work and return to your warm embrace, giving in to his sleep.
"Uhh what did I get paid for?" You question, mostly yourself while checking the text message as you got ready for the day.
"Well i wonder" he stands proudly in front of you grinning widely giving you an answer.
Case 2:
He's crying.
It's one of the days when his thoughts get the better of him, his past comes tumbling down, numbing his senses and leaving him so vulnerable.
He's holding you close, afraid that he'll have to lose you too- maybe that you'll leave him or something else. His past has left a deep wound in his heart that is far from being healed, which reopens from time to time leaving him whimpering and afraid.
You soon wake up to his silent sobs, his chest heaving, and his soft sniffs. It doesn't take you long to come to your senses and realize he's probably having an anxiety attack. You know what's aching him, he doesn't need to tell you nor do you need to ask.
You hug him tightly as you gently pat his head. "My love, my Satoru. I'm here alright? You'll be fine. We will be fine okay, love?" you try your best to comfort him, reminding him to regulate his breathing as you wipe his tears, and thankfully it seems to be working.
"P-please... Don't leave me" Satoru pleads, sounding so pained and broken. You feel your heart shatter at his words.
"Always my love, I'll always be with you" You assure him, cupping his cheeks as he rests his forehead against yours, closing his eyes while holding you tightly as he falls asleep.
To be a pain.
Exhibit A.
Another emergency being, him having a stupid question at 3 fucking 48 in the morning.
"babe babe as curses are developing they will start crushing too?" "Do you think Sukuna ever gets lonely? Nah maybe not hes a loser" "Babe will you love me if i was a worm?" "I had a dream of you!!! Did you dream about me too?" He shakes you awake, looking at you with his bright cerulean curious eyes.
"Gojo Satoru are you serious?!"
"My name is not Gojo Satoru, my name is, my love or something like that but not gojo. But what do you think about the question!!!!!!"
Exhibit B.
He has returned from a week-long mission at 4am and of course he wakes you up with a loud announcement of his arrival before he rushes into your shared bedroom, discarding his blindfolds somewhere. The door hits the wall with a loud bang while his throws himself on top of you crushing you with his weight.
"I'm love-starved" He explains cupping your cheeks, frowning and pouting slightly, his eyes a little watery. Enjoying your every movement and grunt that spill past your lips as you try to make space for yourself. Witnessing your beauty makes him realize how much he missed you as he cages with a tight hug.
Exhibit C:
"Rise and shineeeeeee" He declares as he slides the curtains aside causing you to wake up whining.
"Glad you woke up! I need my morning kiss now" He returns to you demanding a morning kiss just to be thrown off the bed when he comes close to you before you rush to the bathroom to get ready.
Oh, how he loves teasing you and annoying you. Knowing you won't even say a word before brushing and getting rid of that morning breath he could care less about.
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[REQUESTS ARE OPEN]
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jammyambition · 6 months
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Hello!!! Unfortunately for everyone who might see this, I have now attempted to write Baby’s First Smut™️. You heard it here first, I’m not just hoarding fics on this blog anymore (unless this crashes and burns then I will delete it and hide in shame forever ofc) I have been inspired by so many amazing fic writers on here, and I’ll tag a couple just so I can share the love, I hope that’s okay! @pascalisbaby , @tinycozycomfort, @cupofjoel, @joelscruff thank you for your amazing and inspiring work!! Lots of love!!❤️
If people like this I could always write a continuation!! I have lots of ideas in my brain 💡
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Old Man.
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Jackson!Joel x Reader
MINORS DNI/NSFW
Warnings: No description of size/appearance/skin colour. Reader is in early to mid 20’s, has a vagina/vulva, has hair long enough to pull, Joel uses terms of endearment such as honey/sweetheart/darlin’/baby/little girl, contains fingering, finger sucking, hair pulling, face grabbing, light/moderate spanking, slightly Mean!Joel, Joel is 56 so I cannot stress this enough, there is a big age gap! 1 single use of the word Daddy, slight humiliation and finally the use of the word Sir about 2 or 3 times. I imagined game!Joel for this fic, but ofc imagine whatever iteration you like!! I am done.
word count: 3,835
You and Joel have been patrol partners for a while now, and you have taking quite a liking to him. A cocky mistake nearly costs you your life, and Joel takes drastic measures to ensure it doesn’t happen again.
The air is crisp and cool as you walk slowly up the snowy path to Joel’s front door. Your mind racing as you think back to the events of your most recent patrol with him; you, a bunch of clickers and your near devastating misplaced confidence in yourself.
You thought you could take on a group by yourself from the safety of your horse. You’d managed to get a few headshots, reaching back to get another arrow from your quiver and nicking yourself on your knife, a sharp gasp leaving your lips at the feeling of your skin being sliced open. At the sound of your gasp, the clickers whipped their heads around, causing a whimper of fear to bubble out from your lips. You urge your horse forward as quickly as possible, desperate to escape the clawing hands and gnashing teeth of the monsters, but you’re not quick enough, they’re gaining on you with alarming speed. Your heart pounds in your chest like a frightened rabbit, your breath coming in quick, wet pants as you panic. The situation seems dire, and you do the only thing you can think of that might save you from certain death.
“JOEL!!”
The clickers seem to gain even more speed at the sound of your scream, and you begin to worry that they might drag you off your horse, those gnarled claws and gaping mouths inching ever closer by the second. At the last second, just as you feel the tips of a set of claws scratching at your calf through your thick trousers, one of the clickers is thrown back by a direct shot to it’s head, a halo of gore and fungal brain matter splattering onto the ground and landing in patches on your clothes and face. Another deafening bang and another clicker thumps to the ground at the feet of your panicked horse, and after another 3 lethally calculated shots, you’re finally, blissfully safe. You feel colour and heat returning to your sweaty face, heart racing with adrenaline and relief. You look up, and he’s there. Your saviour. Of course it’s Joel, who else would it be? No one else would be that efficient, that calm under pressure, and also, you note with trembling breath, no one else would look quite that angry.
You can see the rifle clenched in his trembling fist, his nostrils flaring as he catches his breath, coming down from the panic of the last few minutes. He sets the rifle down and motions for you to ride over to join him.
Fuck.
The ride over to Joel feels somewhat like the ride to your own grave, the anger and frustration is radiating off him in palpable waves, his thick fingers twisting around the reins of his horse in a way that both frightens you and makes your mouth feel a little dry. You can’t deny that Joel is a treat to be on patrol with, between his hunting and shooting skills, his good looks and gruff, deep voice, usually you would jump at the chance to spend any amount of time with him, but right now you’d rather be on the receiving end of literally anybody else’s anger.
You turn to Joel, taking in the heavy, thunderous set of his dark brows, his usually kind brown eyes now steely with the promise of you being in for a real dressing down.
“So, you wanna tell me exactly what you were thinking back there?” Joel says, low and vaguely threatening, but tinged with genuine concern.
You swallow dryly.
“I-…I thought I could handle it Joel, I’m sorry. It was my fault.”
Your mouth feels dry and sandpapery, a fierce blush burning in your cheeks as your embarrassment grows.
He breathes in slowly, measuredly before exploding.
“You’re goddamn right it’s your fault, you couldn’t handle shit back there! What would have happened if I wasn’t there, if I hadn’t heard you call for me? I told you, I told you to stick with me and to let me handle packs of infected, and you ignored me and went off alone to try and what? Prove yourself to me? Well, I hate to tell you honey, but the only thing you’ve proven today is that I cannot trust you to follow my orders! I can’t believe you’d be so childish, so goddamn stubborn!”
He takes in another breath, this one sharp and gasping after this outburst.
You blanch, reaching another level of embarrassment you previously thought didn’t exist. He was right, you did want to prove yourself to him, you wanted to impress him, but it didn’t work, you just nearly got yourself killed. Your pride wounded and anger growing, you spit back at him in turn.
“Y-you think I want to impress you, old man? I only took on that pack of clickers because I thought YOU wouldn’t be able to handle it!”
You lie through your teeth, hating yourself even more the moment the words tumble from your freezing lips.
He looks straight ahead, over at the gates of Jackson which loom ahead of you.
“That right, sweetheart?”
He sounds as if he’s speaking through gritted teeth, and you feel your insides chill a little at the cold sound of his voice. You fucked up, bad.
You hitch your horses back at the stables, and as you walk away, desperate to go home, away from Joel and wash your day of adrenaline and crippling embarrassment off you with a hot shower, you feel his firm grasp on your upper arm, stopping you in your tracks.
He leans in close to your ear, his warm breath tickling your cold skin and making you shiver.
“I think you and I need to have a little talk about what happened today. If you know what’s good for you, you’ll have the decency to to show your face tomorrow. I expect an apology.”
Your breath catches in your throat at his words.
“Y-yeah, I’ll be there. I’ll see you tomorrow, Joel.” You stutter, your cheeks heating up even more.
He steps back from you, completely unaffected and calm.
“Good. I’ll catch you later, honey.”
He turns and walks away, over to where Tommy and Maria are beckoning him to come for a nightcap, greeting them with a familiar smile.
You rub your face with your gloved hands, squeezing your eyes shut and pressing your palms to your eyes.
“Shit!” You mutter under your breath. “Shit.”
And that is exactly why you’re hauling your sorry ass up Joel’s path, apologies and excuses dancing around your head, trying to work out just how you can get yourself out of this mess. You imagine Joel telling you that you can’t be on patrol anymore, you’re too irresponsible, too impulsive. Your stomach clenches with nerves.
Finally, you reach his front door and knock lightly a few times, willing him not to be in the house. You can come back tomorrow. You begin to turn away, making your way back down the path as you hear the latch of his front door opening.
You hear Joel’s heavy footsteps on the wooden porch and your heart sinks a little as you hear him speak.
“Don’t think you’ll get away that easy, darlin’. Get in here. Now.”
He steps aside to allow you to get past him, and you squeeze through into the living room, your shoulders brushing his lightly as you pass.
He steps back into the house and shuts the door firmly, your stomach jolting nervously at the finality of the sound. You’re trapped.
Joel moves through the living room, taking a seat on one of the large, comfortable chairs. He gets himself settled, leaning back with his arms draped casually across the back of the chair and his legs spread apart slightly. You can’t help it when your gaze flits between the exposed muscle of his bicep as the arms of his t-shirt rides up slightly, and the bulge in his blue jeans when he leans back. He adjusts himself again, pushing his hips forward. His t-shirt rides up just a little, exposing a sliver of soft, tanned stomach. You feel like you’re about to pass out as you take in the sight in front of you.
“Stop staring at him, for fucks sake!” You think, as you feel your face heat up even more.
“Come here.” Joel says sternly, pointing at a spot in front of him, about a foot away from where he’s sitting.
You walk tentatively over to where he points, coming to a halt just in front of his boots.
“That’s good, darlin’. So you can take orders, huh?” he rumbles, and you swear you hear a slight hint of amusement in his voice.
“I can take orders, old man.” You reply, tartly.
He grunts quietly, unamused.
“Now tell me, what’s with this attitude huh? You’re so polite with everyone else, so nice and sweet. Why do I get this bratty little attitude of yours?” He says, sternly, locking you in his steely gaze.
You don’t answer as you struggle to think of a reply, your mouth opening and closing over and over.
“You ain’t got nothin’ to say, sweetheart? You think I deserve this attitude of yours after I saved your life? Saved you from that cocky little stunt you pulled?” He goes on, filling the silence for you.
You feel hot and guilty as he lectures you, but your stomach twists pleasurably at the sight of him in front of you, and the deep, stern tone of his voice is making you feel hot and even a little damp in your underwear.
“J-Joel, this is…this is humiliating. I don’t need to be lectured like this, I’m not a child.” You find your voice, desperate to prove that you’re not as pathetic and bratty as he’s making you out to be.
“No? Then why do you act like such a child, out on patrol with me? Always with your bratty little comments, disobeying my direct orders, going off on your own when you think you know better!” He sounds more annoyed now, his voice taking on a sharper edge, you can tell you’re getting to him and a small part of you want to push further.
“Jesus Joel, you’re speaking to me like I’m not a grown woman, I’m in my 20’s for fucks sake! I don’t have to answer to you! I can take care of myself, I have more experience than you’ve ever given me credit for, old man.” You spit back, angry at the implications of his words and desperate to hold your own in this battle that you’re acutely aware you’re losing.
A dark look flits across his face, and he looks almost feral when he raises his eyes back to you. You a nervous tingling across the back of your neck as you realise you may have pushed it just a little too far this time.
His hand shoots out and grabs your collar tightly, pulling you down to his level, his forehead pressing against yours as his eyes bore into yours from below.
“Do you have any idea how much older I am than you, little girl? How much more experience I have than you? What I could do to a little brat like you?” He seethes, his voice low and threatening.
You feel a spike of arousal in your stomach as he grits his words out at you, his breath flickering over your face as his dark eyes search yours.
You swallow, steeling yourself against his intense gaze.
“Oh, I’d love to see what you’d do a little brat like me, old man.” You retort, smirking.
Another half-crazed look passes across his face and then suddenly he pulls you sharply by your wrist, unbalancing you and having you land directly across his knees, your ass sticking up slightly.
You’re in shock, feeling vulnerable and exposed despite the two layers of clothing protecting your modesty.
“Joel?! What the fuck?” You protest, trying to stand up, but his arm is solid and vice like around your waist.
He chuckles, clinging to your waist even tighter to ensure you can’t escape.
“Showin’ you what I do to little brats like you, sweetheart.”
Suddenly his hand comes down on your ass, taking you by surprise and making you yelp. Another sudden burst of arousal spikes through your core and you squirm in his lap slightly.
“You’re gonna spank me!? Really, Joel!?” You say, embarrassed.
“Don’t pretend you don’t like it, honey. I can see you squirmin’ from here.” He chides, bringing his hand down again, making you let out a strangled half yelp, half moan.
“F-fuck! That hurts, Joel!” You whimper.
“It’s meant to hurt sweetheart, how else is it gonna fix your little attitude problem?” He says, laughing slightly at your predicament.
You feel wetness pooling in your underwear as he strikes your ass again, and you squirm slightly again in his lap, feeling an unexpected hardness digging into your stomach.
“Don’t pretend you don’t like it, honey. I can practically feel you making a mess of your underwear, little girl.” He says coolly.
You whimper again, feeling hot and flustered from his ministrations and words. You can feel your pussy dripping with need and you worry it’s about to start making a stain on his jeans.
Joel runs a soothing, warm hand through your hair, coaxing you to look up at him.
“Cmon, darlin’. If you tell me the truth, I’ll give you what you want.” He looks searchingly into your face, big brown eyes kind and gentle.
You swallow, your throat dry with shame and your tongue thick with arousal, willing yourself to come up with a response that isn’t just incomprehensible whines and whimpers betraying your desperation for him.
“I..I…I don’t want anything, Joel. I swear!”
Your voice shakes as you lie through your teeth.
You hear Joel make a half grunt, half chuckle above you, and he draws breath before he speaks.
“You little liar.”
He sounds almost amused as he brings his hand down on your ass again, harder than before, and you accidentally let a strangled moan fall from your lips.
Your hand flies to your lips, as if you’re trying to push the sound back down your throat and your face feels impossibly hot. You can feel yourself leaking into your underwear, almost certainly soaking the fabric through entirely and you’re worried that it might start to leak out and stain his rough denim jeans.
“Oh, honey…” he says, sickly sweet and tender, and then winds a broad hand in the hair at the soft nape of your neck and pulls your head back sharply, slotting his face next to yours and pressing his lips up against your ear.
“I think you want me to fuck that little hole of yours until you remember who’s in charge here, little girl.”
You feel a gush of wetness in your underwear at his words, and an unrestrained moan leaves you against your will.
You nod your head as he begins to gently kiss and nibble at your ear slightly, making you shiver.
He leans back slightly and speaks again, his voice husky and laced with something like desire.
“Need words from you, darlin’. I ain’t doin’ shit until I know you want it. Come on, tell me what you want, honey.”
You gaze up at him, your eyes wide and probably slightly dazed looking from all the blood rushing away from your brain. You lick your dry lips and open your mouth to speak.
“N-need you to touch me Joel, please.”
He looks deep into your eyes.
“That right, baby? Need me to touch you, make you behave? Make you good for me?”
As he says this, you feel his large, warm hand sliding slowly up your thigh, stopping at your inner thigh and tracing small, teasing circles on the sensitive skin.
You can feel yourself get even wetter, and you squirm a little in his lap as his fingers move a little higher, tracing the large wet patch on your underwear.
He smirks slightly, almost condescendingly before speaking.
“All this from a little punishment, darlin’? You really this wet for me?”
He moves his fingers up to the waistband of your underwear and hooks his fingers under the elastic.
“Can I take these off, baby? You want this?”
You’re practically grinding on his thigh with frustration and your voice is small and desperate as you answer.
“Please Joel, take ‘em off, need you so bad.”
He chuckles, deep and warm as he slides your underwear down your thighs, tutting sympathetically as he sees the marks his hand left behind on your ass.
“Poor lil’ thing. Maybe I went too hard on you. Still, you look so damn good like this, honey. Is this how I should get you to mind me from now on? Put you over my knee and spank this pretty lil ass till ya’ listen?”
You moan quietly at his words, not at all opposed to the idea, which of course, Joel notices.
“I see I got a lil masochist on my hands here, ain’t that right, darlin’? You like a lil pain?”
You whimper out a response.
“Yeah, I-I like it, Joel. Now p-please, you’ve teased me enough, need you to touch me.”
He seems to take pity on you as he slowly pulls your underwear down your legs, urging your hips up to give himself room. As you lay back down in his lap you feel his hardness digging into your stomach and you whine out.
“Please Joel, I want your cock so bad, I’ll be good I promise.”
You look up at him with pleading eyes, and he brings his large hand up to your face, smushing your cheeks together so your lips push out in a pout.
“As cute as you are, darlin’, you’re not getting my cock until you can prove you can listen to me, take orders from me like a good girl. Got it, honey?”
You start to pitch up a whine, complaining slightly.
“B-but, Joel, I-I-….”
His grip on your cheeks goes tighter, and he nods your head up and down slightly, his mouth curved into a condescending grin.
“There we go, good girl. Say “Yes, Sir.” That’s it…”
He chuckles, dropping his grip on your cheeks and stroking your hair again in a soothing motion, then moving his hands back to your dripping wet core.
“Listen to me, little girl. You’re gonna lay nice and still over my knee and you’re gonna take what I have to give you, got it? Gonna show you who’s in charge around here, honey; you’re gonna mind me when we’re done.”
As he says this, he slides a thick finger into your dripping hole, and you feel yourself clench around his digit.
“O-oh, fuck!”
You whine as he starts up an unforgiving pace, and you can hear the sticky, wet noises of your own arousal echoing through the room.
“You like that honey? Huh?”
He says, as he slips another finger in, the slight stretch making you cry out in pleasure again.
“Where’s that bratty attitude now, little girl? You gonna talk back to me now you’re getting fucked over my knee? Fucked good by this old man?”
You feel yourself somehow get even wetter at his words, whines tumbling from your lips.
“N-no, Joel, I promise! I’ll b-be good, I swear! Just please don’t stop!”
He makes a thinking noise, his fingers not slowing as he moves his other hand to your lower back, holding you down.
“I don’t know honey, I’m not convinced that you’ll be a good girl for me. Show me some proper respect, and maybe I’ll think about it. Go on.”
You let out a frustrated whine, not believing that he can possibly make this situation anymore humiliating, but you think you know what he wants.
Finally you give in.
“Please, Sir! Please, don’t stop!”
You think you can feel his cock twitch slightly as it digs into your stomach from below, and you feel a slight sense of satisfaction as he speaks.
“Yeah honey, that’s a good girl. Showing me some proper respect now, huh?”
He seems pleased, and as if rewarding you for your efforts he scoops you up and sits you in his lap properly, draping your legs either side of his broad thighs.
You feel your wetness drip out of you as your core is entirely exposed to the cool air of the room.
“I think my good girl deserves a little reward now, show her I’m not all bad, right baby?”
His fingers go straight for your clit and begin to rub it in tight, calculated circles as the fingers of his other hand plunge back into your tight hole.
You moan loudly he does this, feeling yourself close to cumming already after his relentless teasing. You feel as if you can’t control the loud, desperate whines and moans leaving your lips as he continues to work your body expertly.
You hear him tut again as your moans reach a particularly loud crescendo.
“Shh, honey…damn, you really are desperate to cum, huh? You better quieten down, you wouldn’t want your lil’ friends to know you’re getting fucked so good by a man old enough to be your daddy. Ain’t that right little girl?”
As he says this, he takes his fingers out from your pussy and shoves them in your open mouth, silencing your moans.
“Yeah, that’s better. Give you something to keep you quiet while you cum, darlin’.”
You feel yourself tightening around nothing, your legs clenching and shaking as you begin to cum, Joel’s fingers in your mouth keeping you quiet.
He continues to rub your clit slowly as you come down from your high, the feeling making you shiver and spasm in his arms.
You relax back into his chest, feeling slightly dizzy from your intense orgasm, your muscles feeling jelly-like and utterly relaxed.
Joel wraps his arms around your shaking form, reclining further into the chair and allowing you to nestle into his arms.
“You okay, honey? Need anything, some water or something?”
You look up at him, his brown eyes kind and gentle again.
You giggle slightly,
“Maybe my pants back, old man…”
He raises his eyebrows in mock surprise.
“Oh, back to our old ways already are we, sweetheart?”
He says, playfully.
You laugh quietly again, resting your head on his chest.
“Yeah, something like that.”
You two stay like that for a while, until finally your legs begin to go numb due to the uncomfortable position. Joel sends you off with a kiss on the forehead and a pat on your (still slightly sore) ass, as well as a warning that you’d better listen to him next time you’re on patrol together.
You find yourself making a promise to yourself to show Joel just how much of a good girl you can be the next time you’re on patrol together.
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irisintheafterglow · 7 months
Text
No Prey, No Pay (opla!zoro x you)
summary: after steering him to a successful bounty, zoro can't stop thinking about you. he decides to do something about it. (Part 2 to Parley)
wc: 1.67k
cw/tags: domestic zoro crumbs, idiots in love but they don't know how to express it, canon-typical violence, zoro is so himbo i love him
note: thank you for all the love on my first two zoro posts!!!! i'm so so so happy y'all liked them; this is one of the first times in a while i've actually been super giddy writing a character. i really hope he's not too ooc, i tried to keep his himbo-ness intact. hope you enjoy!!!
likes, comments, and reblogs are always appreciated <3
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“Here to try killing me again?”
“Oh,” is all he can sputter out, frozen on the doorstep of the Lady’s manor. The stout, shriveled old woman before him was not who he was looking for. To make matters worse, the flower he’d picked from the hillside on his way up the driveway suddenly seemed like a gargantuan beanstock in his fingers. His face was warming but, for the life of him, he could not figure out why. “You’re not–”
“Nope. They’re in the Farmers’ Market,” she deadpans without hesitation, eyeing him with all the amusement of a PhD candidate reading a children’s book. “The Farmers’ Market I created, by the way.” 
“Right,” he replies shortly, turning abruptly on his heel and letting his eyes widen in pure horror when she can’t see his face. He tosses the flower into a nearby planter, well aware that she can still see his every move. After several misguided attempts to navigate back to your isolated piece of land in the East Blue, he approached the ornately decorated door with a little more excitement than he expected. Having the Lady whom he’d tried to kill a few weeks prior be the one to open the door was another funny twist of irony that caused him an odd feeling of embarrassment, like he’d dropped you off after a date ten minutes past your curfew. “Thank you for your time.” 
“Tell me, pirate hunter,” she called to his back patronizingly. “Why grace us again with your oh-so-menacing presence?” 
“I’m wondering the exact same thing,” he mutters, irritated at his failed attempt to find you on the first try. 
“When you find them, tell them to pick up more sweet potatoes. I thought we had enough for dinner, but we could use a few more now that you’re here,” the Lady instructs him and her words take a few seconds to register in his mind. But, by the time he’s turned around to ask her what she meant, the door is already shut and he’s too proud to knock again. 
As if the mortification on your porch wasn’t enough, it’s nearly impossible to find you in the milling swarms of people in town. The people part naturally for him as he passes, sneaking anxious glances at the three swords on his hip. Whispers of his occupation and intentions float around his ears but he pays them no mind, determined to spot you. Again, he wasn’t sure what he was doing there in the first place; but, no matter what anyone else said, he did know one thing. By some unexpected turn of Fate, he missed you. 
“Shopping for produce while you hunt? I didn’t know you could multitask.” The teasing lilt of your voice appears behind him and he can’t help smirking. You’d found him before he found you, even though it was his job to find people. “Word to the wise: the vendors will upcharge you because they know you’re not from the island.” 
“What if you’re there with me?” When he finally turns to face you, his eyes flick to the canvas bag slung over your shoulder. It’s stuffed with fruits and vegetables, along with a jar of honey from the beekeeper just up the road from your house. 
“They’ll upcharge you more and insist you pay for my stuff,” you reply nonchalantly. “Now that I think of it, maybe we should walk around together.” You brush past him and re-enter the bustling square like he was the last thing on your mind, when really he was the only thing for the past week. You’re certain he’d follow behind you and your theory is confirmed when his voice comes from over your right shoulder. “It’s good to see you.”
“You’re wearing the bracelet,” he observes, easily slipping into place next to you as if it was natural to be by your side. With the sword-clad bounty hunter next to you, it was much easier to navigate the market without bumping every resident of the island. 
“Mhmm, I told you I liked it,” you say absentmindedly, stopping at a stand and picking up a vibrantly colored fruit from the stack. Observing it for bruises and finding none, you signal the seller that you’d like to buy the piece in your hand. His farm-worn hand stretches out to you and you fish around in your bag briefly for coins. But, before you can place the money in his hand, Zoro’s fingers are already dropping an unnecessarily large quantity into the shocked farmer’s palm. You gape at him and his unchangingly blank expression, shaking your head in disbelief when he glances at you, eyes shining arrogantly. “Where’d you get all that money and why did you do that?” 
“Bounties,” he answers plainly, “and ‘cause I wanted to. Next stand?” You’re still slightly frozen from pure surprise, but he shrugs carefreely and tilts his head toward the rest of the vendors.
“Feel like enlightening me on why you’re here again?” It’s the fourth or fifth stand he’s accompanied you to and, at this point, you were just window-shopping. Since he joined you on your errand, you hadn’t spent any more money; before you could pay any of the sellers, they were already thanking you profusely for your generosity with a pile of shining coins in their hands. Zoro proved to be a very patient companion, respectfully giving his opinions on which piece of produce looked bigger or more appetizing. With most of the required items on your shopping list successfully in your bag, you find yourself drifting over to the stalls of mundane things like pretty flowers and colorful crystals. 
“There’s a Marine defector turned intelligence smuggler hiding somewhere in the area. Thought I’d knock out two birds with one stone.” You turn over a piece of aventurine in your fingers, admiring it from different angles in the sunlight. Your breath hitches slightly when Zoro’s face dips down next to yours, watching the crystal from the same angle. 
“What’s the other bird?” You glance at him from the corner of your eye. 
“Visiting you,” he replies without hesitation, plucking the crystal from your fingers and tossing more coins at the vendor. You don’t stop the laugh that escapes your mouth and you swear his smirk gets more self-assured as he drops the rock into your bag. At a point when you aren’t looking, he swings your bag onto a broad shoulder as easily as if it was a piece of paper. “Also, we need sweet potatoes.” Your eyebrows raise in amusement at his slip. 
“We?” You have to fight down another giggle when his face becomes slightly pinker, imperceptible if you weren’t already staring at him. “Since when were we anything?”
“Your boss said she needed more sweet potatoes. Don’t shoot the messenger.” 
“I wasn’t aware that you went to go see her.”
“I wasn’t either, and then she opened the door instead of you,” he admits and you chuckle at his expression of distaste. “If it were up to me, I wouldn’t have–get behind me.” Before he can finish his thought, his arm shoots out in front of you, effectively halting you a split second before a knife darts across your vision, embedding itself into the wooden post next to you. The surrounding market-goers break into chaotic panic and you have no choice but to press your back against Zoro’s to prevent getting swept away. Emerging from the crowd, a lethal-looking group of fighters encircle you two and your hand finds the hilt of your saber. 
“Pirates?”
“No. Bounty hunters.”
“Friends of yours?” You eye the group warily as the marketplace empties, people running into the nearest building they could find to spectate the upcoming battle. 
“I’d call them ‘occupational competition’ on a good day.”
“Ah, great,” you huff sarcastically. “What’d you do to piss them off?”
“Exist,” he deadpans and you hum in assent. 
“Yeah, that’ll do it,” you mutter and you start to pull your blade from its sheath, anticipating the fight ahead of you.
“Don’t.” The single word halts your movements and your stomach drops in fear of what he’s sensing.
“What?”
“Let me handle this,” he says in a low tone that makes your skin break into goosebumps. “Can you hold the bag while I deal with them?”
“You sure?”
“Yep. This won’t take long,” he says irritatedly, scowling at the rival hunters that interrupted his day.
“Alright. I’m gonna go get sweet potatoes, then.”
“Third one down on the left. I’ll meet you over there,” he promises before moving faster than you can comprehend, whirling and downing the two attackers in front of you without even drawing his swords. They howl in pain when you stab your blade into their feet for good measure before leisurely making your way further down the street. As you walk, Zoro clears the path for you, mercilessly incapacitating every enemy with ease. By the time you find the sweet potato stall, there’s only one persistent fighter still giving the swordsman problems. You don’t feel any ounce of fear, however, as you pick through the salvageable gourds while the clashing of swords rings out behind you. Eventually, the street quiets and Zoro returns to your side as if nothing happened at all. “Good?”
“I’m fine,” you say truthfully, running your thumb over the bruise of an otherwise good potato. “You think this one’s still okay?” After peering at it and deeming it safe, he nods.  
“Yeah, it should be fine. If anything, you can just cut off the ugly spot.” There’s a splattering of red just under his eye when you meet his gaze. Your fingers unconsciously come up to wipe the speck of blood from his cheek and his skin feels just as electric as the first time you touched him. 
“Cool. I’m done shopping then, so we can go back home.”
“We?”
“You’re staying for dinner. It isn’t a request,” you command lightheartedly and smile when his steps fall into line next to yours. 
“Mmm, I can’t wait.”
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marymary-diva17 · 6 months
Text
Broken vows (2)
Jake x reader + neteyam/ sully kids/ neytiri
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Since the day neteyam had been shot my the recoms while saving his siblings and spider, so much had changed in your life. You are still thankful that your son is still alive and well, but your relationship with his father Jake still hadn't changed. It seems like you are staying turn to your words and keeping your distance from Jake and neytiri. Making sure to be civil towards them when the kids and everyone else was around, but there was never going back to what your relationship was like in the past.
Y/n " these sample will be perfect"
???? " mama"you soon heard someone calling for you making you turn around to see neteyam making his way towards you.
y/n " hello my son"
neteyam " hey mama I came to see you and see how everything going"
y/n " well I'm happy you are her my boy ... so where are your siblings" neteyam smiled and soon enough his siblings and spider had appeared, you knew they were all here today.
tuk " hey mama"
y/n " hey little one"
kiri " neyteyam said he was going to come see you today and we tagged along as well"
spider “ they came by the home to look for you but it told them, you were out and so we came to see you all together”
y/n " well I'm happy all my kids are here I was about to hand back to the base once everything was backed away"
lo'ak " here lets us help you"
y/n " thank you kids" The kids were helping your collect the rest of your sample and some other plants as well, to take home with you so you can study them later.
y/n " teyam be careful just because I said you were in the clear and good to move, doesn’t mean you can move around so fast”
neteyam “ yes mama”
tsireya “ hello everyone”
Loak “ hey you guys made it mama we asked tsireya and her brothers, if they wish to come with us”
y/n “ well it's good to have them”
Rotxo “ can we help please”
y/n “ sure one of you can help Tuk carry the stuff”
Tuk “ I got to mama in a big girl now”
y/n “ tuk even big kids and adults have to ask for help”
Rotox “Here Tuk I will take some of the stuff, and you can still carry the rest.”
Tuk “Okay” Tuk had allowed Rotxo to help her carry some of the stuff while Aonung and Tsireya had helped her older siblings and spider . Soon all the kids follwoed you back to the base, the kids had palced everything down outside.
aonung " so will more humans be coming here to stay with you and spider"
y/n " well I don't have a answer for that yet norm might come to stay her official, but he might stay in the forest a bit longer if other humans come I don't know yet"
aonung " wow I can't wait to see what else these sky people have"
y/n " you will be amazed young man"
tsireya " so you were a healer before you came here"
y/n " yes that was my life I was a healer back at home that was one of many moments, I had meant Jake and I might be one of the many ways I had ....yes I was a healer"
tuk " mama what was it like being a healer when you were younger"
y/n " there were good and sad moments little one but that happenes, when you heal the sick and injured"
kiri " well I'm happy you and spider are staying here it will be boring without any of you"
y/n " well I have stayed to help with you kids and Jake if anything bad happens, and to keep in contact with everyone else back at home"
spider " she even allowed me to have my own room as well"
y/n " yes a room he will make sure to maintain when under my watch"
spider " yes mom ... you dont mind me calling you mom"
y/n " no I don't mind at all spider I have raised you since you were young, along with my son and there other kids all of you have become my kids"
neteyam " hey it will be cool to have another brother and someone here with mom when we are at home"
tuk " yeah spider our big brother official now"
????? " y/n" you and the kids had heard someone speak and that was tsu'tey he saw the children and looked at them.
y/n " tsu'tey welcome"
tsu'tey " hello I came to bring you some of the items your asked for"
y/n " thank you I can show you where to put them" you soon walked off with tsu'tey leaving the kids alone. many thoughts were running through their heads, about this interaction between you and tsu'tey. The kids had watched you and tsu'tey talk and laugh as it seem like you two had a special bond.
later that night
neteyam " mom thank you for allow us to stay for dinner"
y/n " it was good to have you all here for dinner"
kiri " dinner was wonder I love your grilled fish and vegetables"
spider " yes they are amazing you always had an amazing cooking talent"
aonung " thank you for allow us to stay as well"
rotxo " yes thank you"
y/n " it was good to have my kids friends over for dinner"
neteyam " umm mom there is something I been wishing to ask you"
y/n " sure my son ask away"
neteyam " umm mom have you ever thought about dating again or finding a new mate or husband" you had looked at the kdis they were all looking at you.
neteyam " I knew that was a stupid question"
y/n " no it a good question my son ... yes for some time I have been think about open a new page on my love life"
tuk " a love life with who mama"
y/n " I don't know yet"
tsireya " we have some wonderful warriors and members here who will be perfect for you"
y/n " oh"
kiri " we also know some of as well"
tuk " yes like uncle norm he will be good"
lo'ak " not him silly"
y/n " norm has loved someone before and still love her, I rather not make him give her up yet"
tuk " oh okay"
spider " well some of the scientists males have said you are beautiful and have taking a liking to you ... but they didn't know it was appropriate with your relationship with Jake"
y/n " I and Jake will be friends for now on and be parents to you kids"
neteyam " then what about tsu'tey mom"
y/n " I and Tsu'tey are friends."
neteyam "Mama, don't lie I have seen the way you two look at each other and act around one other"
lo'ak "Uncle Tsu'tey acts like your husband heck, he might have been a better husband towards you than Dad."
y/n " kids ....."
Kiri "Mama, we've seen you be alone and turn down dates and offers of romance to take care of us or help around the clan. Most of it was thanked, and others not."
Spider "You have given it you all here you deserve some happiness"
y/n " kids it good to see you all care but I love someone once and he broken my heart, and left me for another without saying anything else"
neteyam " we know mama"
y/n " you know who told you"
spider " we ear dropped our norm and other conversation then of them have been happy with Jake lately, and either have mo'at as well"
tsireya " even our parents seem disgust by their actions as well"
y/n " children I wish to never drag any of you into this mess"
neteyam " mama we love you and we will do anything for you, mama I want you to be happy and if that with tsu'tey I will be happy for you as well"
y/n " okay I will give love a chance" the kids smiled it seem like it worked, the children left the night saying goodnight to you and spider. You had taken the kids words to heart and agreed to allow yourself to fall in love again, maybe finding love again won't be that bad. You had started soon get close to Tsu’tey. He would even be seen leaving your home during dusk times, start many gossip and rumors in the clan drawing the attention of many. The kids were soon help to learn you and Tsu’tey were official dating, so were all your friends as well one of them stating your official moved on from Jake sully and will find a proper and good husband this time around. You are happy in your relationship with Tsu’tey and with the family and friends you have here, giving up one your past romance and giving love a chance again. Now it was time to see where your life will lead now and how much happiness and sorrow will come as well.
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