Tumgik
#which leads me to believe he started young
hegodamask · 1 year
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Thinking about Syril doing his own tailoring.... how did he learn? Did Eedy teach him or did he teach himself? Has he been sewing since he was a kid? What do sewing kits even look like in the gffa? Does he go fabric shopping? Does he genuinely enjoy doing it or is it just a necessity to him? I’m fascinated. 
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chuluoyi · 7 months
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fear
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- gojo satoru x reader
his best friend’s defection is still a hard topic for him to swallow, and it leads into an unexpected argument that spurs you to leave, only to unlock a new fear in him when you get into an unfortunate accident afterwards.
genre/warnings: angst, gojo being mean, one scene with a worried nanami *wink*, injured reader, hurt/comfort, fluff in the end
notes: *sigh* my coping mechanism is still gojo’s past arc, which is why this piece takes place on that timeline. just a little context: reader is in the same class with nanami & haibara and was in the same mission that took haibara's life. this is probably the longest oneshot i've written so far sooo… enjoy! :)
series masterlist | oneshot masterlist
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A year and a half had passed since Suguru embarked on his path as a curse user. In that one year and a half, Satoru had finished his last year at Jujutsu High, and now was in the halls of his alma mater, speaking to the newly appointed headmaster who was none other than his teacher.
"You're applying to become a teacher?" Yaga asked again with a frown. He still couldn't wrap his head around it. Granted, he was his most troublesome pupil. "Why, Satoru?"
"If I said it's because I want to train young sorcerers to be strong, would you believe me?"
That was not a lie. It was actually 50% of his main reasons anyway. The other 50% was to repent what he missed with Suguru when he chose his dark path—his contempt with the current system of this jujutsu world.
"I would," Yaga responded gruffly. To him, Satoru was irritating, but he also knew that he was also extremely capable, and thus everything he did wasn't just out of nowhere. "But you still have to submit your applications. We can't make an exception even if you come from a prestigious clan."
"That's fine with me," he grinned. "Thanks, sensei."
On summer days, he'd get reminded of Suguru and silly things they had done together. Eating shaved ice, cycling together, driving either you, Shoko or Nanami mad. Satoru missed those days, it hadn't been the same ever since. Not knowing if his best friend was alright—if he was still alive at all—was exhausting.
Sometimes, he felt like he was the only one who was affected by his departure, the only one who stayed right where Suguru left him. Shoko didn't seem ruffled, if anything she just went to more bars and pachinko parlors as of late. Nanami was always a recluse, he never disclosed his feelings. You mourned him, but it was clear that most part of you would always be more focused on Haibara's death.
Satoru understood that he couldn't force anyone to feel what he felt, and he had no right to. But sometimes, he just wanted someone to connect with at his level. Someone to get him just like Suguru did.
And so when he got back to his condo that night—just right next to the one he rented for Megumi and Tsumiki, since he had moved out of his dorm—to find his girlfriend there with a big smile and a tray of cupcakes, unaware of everything and anything, he merely scoffed to himself.
"Satoru, you're back," you acknowledged, beaming like the sunshine you were. "I just baked these for the kids. Do you want some?"
Usually he'd smother you, throw some pickup lines here and there and say yes, but today, he just felt drained. "No." And with that, he stalked away to the bathroom, not glancing back at you.
It was wrong. But tonight he just wanted some peace and quiet, and so keeping his silence seemed to be the best choice as he didn't want to start a pointless argument with you. But you weren’t anything but observant, and definitely noticed that something was amiss with him.
"Are you... alright?" You approached him warily after he came out of the bathroom with wet hair. "Where were you today?"
"Just somewhere," he replied curtly. Afterwards he turned on the hairdryer, drowning the whole place with the noise even as you stood behind him with a visible question mark.
But you were still there after he dried his hair. "Is something bothering you?" you asked with a tilt of your head, concerned. By all means, you mean well. You just wanted to know if he could use your help at all.
When you pulled that expression, he couldn't help feeling annoyed, like he wanted you to take a hint, but you just didn't. "If you know, then just shut it."
It was probably the first time since the two of you got together that Satoru actually said something harsh. But you still tried to be reasonable though, bless you.
"Satoru, I don't know what got into your nerves like this, but I think sleeping through it might help. Have a rest."
"Why are you talking as if you know it?" he snapped, finally turning to you with his cold gaze. "You might not know anything, so don't be a know-it-all. Just mind your own business."
Now you were frustrated with his reply. "Once again, I don't know what happened to you. But if you're taking it out on me because I'm the closest you have—"
"Who said that?" Satoru didn't know where he got all this venom from. It was just at the forefront of his mind and he just got the urge to spew it. "You're considering yourself closest to me? Where did you get that big head from?"
You were aghast, and you blinked a few times to get your bearings. "Let me guess, it's about Geto-san, isn't it? Or the higher ups. Either of that must be what causing you to blindly place your anger on me."
"So what if it was? It isn't like you'll understand anyway."
"Satoru," you started, trying to even your breathing. "What happened to Geto-san isn't your fault. I've been telling you this. It can't be helped—"
"Can't be helped?" he jeered. "Do you know why it has come to this?" his tone took a dangerous edge as he stepped closer. He reached for you, grasping your wrist.
"Maybe because I was too blind back then. If it weren't for you—if only I didn't spend that much time on you, maybe he would still be here."
Did he just say that? Did he just imply that he had regretted the two of you getting together?
You felt your lower lip start to tremble and something seemed to obscure and blur your vision, making it hard to see him clearly. "You... don't mean that."
"Really?" the corner of his lips curled into a disparaging smile. "You never know. Before you know it, this can be over already. After all, I could have anyone out there that I want. Maybe someone less nosey than—”
That did it. You wrenched your arm out of his grip violently, as your first tear fell. His smirk vanished too, replaced with a total stillness to cover his sudden panic that was followed by a sudden sinking feeling at the pit of his stomach.
"You selfish, self-obsessed jerk," you hissed through watery eyes. He was taken aback, even amidst your anger and possible fear of him, your still managed to throw daggers at him. "Fine. You have it. I'll see myself out."
Satoru never wanted you to leave. Honestly, he would've made you stay. But he wasn't in the right state of mind and it was too late to take back what he said. He didn't want to mess this up even further.
You left the cupcakes, even throwing it away just to spite him. Driven by pain and humiliation, you choked back your sob and didn't spare a glance at him as you shut the door.
Peace and quiet. There he had it, he thought as he clenched his fists, at the cost of everything else.
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Leaving that condo, every step you took felt like needles piercing your shattered heart. You wiped your tears roughly. No, you refused to cry over such asshole. He made it clear, didn't he? Whatever it was that you two shared, it was at the cost of his best friend leaving him. So now the blame was on you.
If you were thinking clearly, you would've understood that his words were likely a result of his own pent-up pain and frustration that he had kept to himself for some while. But you had no patience for that or even pinpoint what you felt right now—anger, disappointment or dread, or perhaps all three. You just felt wrongly accused.
Your feet brought you back to your dorm in the school. Now it wasn't as bustling as it once were. After Satoru and Shoko's graduation, you didn't really get close to anyone. There was Ichiji, but he treated you more like a mentor rather than a classmate.
As you sank into the comforts of your bed, You replayed the events, trying to find where it went wrong—and found nothing. After all, you had already said all that could be said. It wasn't just him who lost Geto, but you, Shoko and Nanami did too, but it was more convenient for Satoru to blame everyone else rather than trying to understand that they too shared this pain.
Nevertheless, you were disappointed. You didn't expect half of what he spouted, and it got you doubting everything you had.
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"You've royally fucked up."
Satoru exhaled, glaring at Shoko through the corner of his eyes. "Yeah, maybe."
The reverse cursed technique user threw him a blank stare, taking in everything from his disheveled hair to his wrinkled trousers. "Gojo, as much as I can’t care less about your sorry ass, I'm saying this not out of concern for you, but rather for Y/N. You are an asshole."
The puff of smoke she blew expanded to create a cloud-like shape. "Yaga-sensei was our teacher. His student is now a mass murderer and wanted dead. Can you even imagine how he feels? And I can't believe I'm saying this—but weren't there three of us?"
A week had gone by and instead of doing the right thing like trying to get into your good graces, Satoru was in Shoko's infirmary in the headquarters instead. He didn't exactly know what he was looking for by going here. Maybe some lingering taste of his happier student days, and Shoko was the only one remaining.
Three of us, huh... she was right. That was precisely why he came here after all.
"You're just sulking because it seems no one cares about your best friend being the best there is. But have you thought about how our juniors also lost Haibara? Right in front of their eyes? Haibara was our friend too."
He was wrong, of course he was. Satoru realized that now. But it felt wrong to ask for your forgiveness now, not to mention the disrupting thought he had—should he let you go for good altogether?
The phone suddenly rang with such fervor that made Shoko utter a swear word. She was on call duty for the rescue team today, and it was supposedly a peaceful day until Satoru decided to barge in to become her company. "Hello? Ichiji? What—speak clearly, I can't hear you."
She switched it to loudspeaker. "...iri-san! Ieiri-san—h-help—please—"
It was noisy, and blaring at the same time, and Ichiji was... Sobbing? Choking? His voice was terribly muffled and—
"L/N-san!" he cried, and Satoru remembered at that moment that you should be in a mission with Ichiji, he remembered you telling him before.
"Hic—s-she fell... hic—she fell! B-blood! She i-is bleeding so much! I-Ieiri-san—hic—s-send help! Please!"
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"Hey, stay awake. Breathe. Just breathe."
Everything hurt. Most notably, your head. You could hardly think straight when all you felt was blinding pain and how your breaths came in short wheezes. 
Your vision was blurry. The numbness had started to set in and chills ran up and down your spine. You couldn't make out who in front of you was. Was it Ichiji, who went with you in this mission? The only thing that glared was blue.
"You can't sleep, you hear me?" the voice was commanding, willing you to do his bidding. It was familiar, but usually his tone of voice was much lighter, happier.
Satoru.
But why was he here? He wasn't in this mission. It was supposed to be a mission for you and Ichiji.
You remembered getting the cursed spirit after manifesting your domain expansion, until in its last ditch attempt, it went after Ichiji. You had no choice—even when your cursed energy had burned out, you still shoved him away at the cost of being flung from the top of a building.
Not again. Not after Haibara. You’d gladly pay the price if it meant you didn't have to see anyone die in front of you again.
"I..." You managed to croak out—breathing hurt, and you felt your hands being grasped tightly.
"Hey, just breathe. Y/N. Look at me.” Through your blurry haze, you focused on that cold blue, and you saw him. Satoru's sharp eyes, pursed lips and frown. He's really here.
Satoru always said that if there was a cursed spirit apocalypse, then Ichiji would be the first to die. You used to scold him for that, but now as you a laid here possibly dying in your own pool of blood, you found it to be true.
Yet at the same time you knew that with him here, Ichiji must be safe already, and it gave you reassurance so great even when you were on the verge of dying. "I... can't..."
"Yes, you can. Just look at me," he firmly rebuked, his voice came out in a hiss. For all the time you had been with him, you had never heard him so forceful. "If you close your eyes now, I won't forgive you. So please, just hang in there."
It was a struggle to take in any air and darkness encroached on your vision as your consciousness began slipping away.
And everything faded to nothingness.
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Satoru honestly thought he had no fears. His worst fear had fully realized after all—Suguru going away into the darkness. What more could he possibly fear?
But when he heard Ichiji's distress call for rescue team, about how you fell from a rooftop of a building and unconscious, he realized that it was a fear he didn't know existed. His mind got disoriented and he teleported to the scene on impulse. He just had to see it for himself. With their petty argument still lacking closure, he felt even worse.
And the sight before him gave him so much fright he never thought was possible.
It was a mistake, he should have brought Shoko along.
You had laid there like a broken doll, your eyes dimmed, and not been able to breathe. He desperately tried to keep you awake, his presence beside you, yet it didn't seem to matter. He watched helplessly as you passed out in his arms.
Satoru felt nothing. The panic that had set in was suddenly gone as your limp body slumped against him, replaced by incessant ringing in his ears and tremor wracking his nervous system. It wasn't long until the rescue team came to retrieve you and even then he still felt numb. He rejected the idea that you might possibly die on him.
That went on until Shoko, who assisted in the emergency treatment, came out of the surgery, sweat on her forehead.
"It's even worse than the aftermath of the guardian deity mission last year," Shoko explained with a grim expression. "Her brain has sustained damage and it affects everything. It may take her quite a while before she can go back to the field."
When she said that, Satoru felt terror washed over him again. You almost died—was all he perceived.
The two of you had no contact for a week just because of his ego. He could still recall that day with vivid clarity, feeling a burning ache in his chest. If someone were to ask him what heartbreak was like, now he certainly would he able the to tell them the two instances in which he experienced them. What he felt now mirrored the same stinging sensation he had felt when Suguru left him.
He visited you when he was allowed to, and you were still unconscious, with many machines connected to your body. It was a sight he still couldn’t bring himself to get used to. He had seen you injured before, but never seen you in your own pool of blood, so this made him feel sick to his stomach.
"Stupid," he whispered, gently rubbing your forehead. His eyes remained fixated on you as you rested, his insides still churning with emotions. "You're not weak, and you're not hopeless." Once upon a time, Satoru might have thought of you as weak, but now he knew better.
"So why you always pick the worst decision?" The more he thought this could've been avoided, the more irked he was. The thought that he could have done something to prevent it intensified the sting of guilt, and he continued to punish himself with it.
And the more he dwelled on the idea that he had hurt you prior to this, the tighter his breath became.
But that was who you were. Self-sacrificing to a fault. And he loved you for that. There was no way of him letting you go now.
It astonished even himself—that he was capable of this love thing. At first it was an attraction, but now that you had been going on for more than a year, it felt like it was no longer a silly infatuation after all.
"Hurry and wake up, will you?" Satoru gently brushed your hair aside, his eyes fixed on you. He didn't know it even as his gut twisted, his frown deepened and his touch quivered, that he was worried sick. "I have a lot to make up for."
And he left you with a tender brush of his lips against your forehead.
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Nanami Kento was the first person you saw when you awoke from coma.
You struggled to regain your senses, still feeling absolutely broken. The dull throb on the back of your head was still there, and as if you had found yourself trapped in a fog, you were only able to move sluggishly.
"You're awake?" his gruff voice greeted, laced with concern. In his hand were a bucket of fresh flowers and fruits basket, which he soon placed at the table next to your bed.
It was unexpected, because ever since the tragedy that costed Haibara's life, the two of you had been drifting apart.
You nodded, and let out a hum in response—all you could manage at the moment.
"Thank God." Nanami sounded relieved as he pinched the bridge between his eyes, and you were moved that he had shown this degree of concern.
Your remaining classmate, who suffered the burden of Haibara's life just like you. He was always quiet or brooding somewhere, hiding his own feelings.
You felt tears pricking the corner of your eyes. The fact that he visited you meant that he hadn't decided to cut you out of his life yet.
"Gojo-san is out today, but he'll be back by afternoon," he said, mistranslating your tears as some sort of a want to have your annoying—ex?—boyfriend at your side.
The two of you were still not on talking terms, weren’t you?
You so badly wanted to say thank you to him—and tell him that no, you weren't looking for Satoru—but it came out hoarse and barely above a whisper.
"Huh?" Nanami then realized what you were trying to say, and a faint smile graced his lips. "Just... get well soon, L/N. Have a good rest."
Just before you drifted back to sleep, you could hear him sigh and mutter, "Hello, Gojo-san? L/N has awakened. Just letting you know is all.”
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You weren't sure how much time had passed when you woke up the second time, but the curtains were already drawn and only darkness came from the window. Your body felt lighter, but you still felt like a mess and and couldn't help but groan in discomfort.
Satoru was there, he perked up at the noise you made. And you realized that it was the first time in about a week that he faced you after that disasterous almost-breakup.
He walked up to you, his expression was more hopeful than you had ever seen him before, like a kid whose wish had been granted. He slowly shifted to sit beside you.
"Hey, welcome back." His voice was soft. It was a change of pace for him, as you were used to seeing him all loud and silly.
Now your voice no longer sounds like a lead. "Hey."
"How are you feeling?" he asked and you took a moment to look at him. He was smiling, but exhaustion reached his bright eyes, dimming them. "You know, with the whole you passing out and almost dying thing?"
His words were almost humorous as he spoke, like he didn't know what else to say except try to lighten the mood, but there was also a strain on his tone, like he was holding back.
"I'm quite fine now, I suppose..." You still felt the lingering pain and dizziness as you slowly sat up. Satoru reached out to steady you—and you realized how his fingers trembled when they made contact with your body—as his brows furrowed with worry when you winced.
"You don't look like it though." His voice dropped and the humor was gone, replaced by this haunted look. You blinked. It was probably the first time you had seem him this ruffled.
He immediately pulled you into a hug, cradling your head to his neck gently, as if to protect and shield you from the world altogether. Exhaling heavily, he leaned on you. "You scared me, you know that?"
You wondered out loud if you really had that hold over him. "Did I?"
"You can't do that to me, you hear?" Satoru stroked your hair, nuzzling his face on the crook of your neck. His voice quivered. “Don't ever do that again.”
He pulled you tighter against him, but still careful not to crush you.
You let out a snicker, letting go of everything you felt during this horrible week. "Heh, afraid to lose me, huh?"
"Shut up,” he grumbled. “What were you thinking anyway? How did you calculate that freefalling is better than letting that cursed spirit attack Ichiji?”
"He was defenseless. He could die, you know that."
"And you also can," he quipped, upset, pulling away enough to look you squarely in the eyes, his eyes devoid of any expression, yet filled with a raging wave that you could only interpret as undiluted concern.
The emphasis in his tone made you recoil and feel guilty. If you were in his shoes, you probably would've said the same thing and so you had nothing to say to that.
But the more pressing agenda in the list was the unspoken silent treatment the two of you saw fit to use against each other for the last few days. Satoru was the one who decided to address it first.
"About that night..." he faltered, looking away. "I didn't mean what I said. I'm sorry."
Satoru always had trouble processing emotions. This time too. He must've a hard time dealing with the anxiety caused by the possibility of him losing you for good, no matter how much he tried to be unaware of it.
"..." You wanted to respond, to make him understand your point, but somehow right now you were just too weary. And he sensed your reluctance. So you blurted the first thing that gnawed at your mind.
“You said you could have any other women out there—”
"No, really—" he started to panic, and it was blatantly too, which surprised you. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. Us. I don't regret anything. I’m not breaking up with you. Being with you is the happiest I've been ever since Suguru left."
“That's...” you blinked, before letting out a small sigh. “Okay. Fine then. Let's just put it behind us for now.”
“I—” he almost wheezed, his bright blue eyes were overtaken with sheer urgency to explain how wrong everything had been that night. “You must know that I didn’t mean any of it. And that I hate hurting you the way I did. I won’t—”
"Satoru, I understand," you let out another sigh, fidgeting with your fingers. "Sometimes when I’m reminded of Haibara, I also get sad. I don't want to presume but I think I know how you feel. Just next time, maybe," you shifted your gaze on him, seeing how you had his attention fully. Gojo Satoru, the strongest now, was looking at you as if you had his fate in your hands. "Just tell me if you need space and I would have understood."
"Yeah, okay, sure," he responded immediately, relieved, before a lopsided grin appeared on his face, turning him back into your dork slash boyfriend. "So, am I forgiven now?"
"A thank you would be nice."
In the end, he chuckled, seemingly resigned. "You should sleep more."
He positioned himself into bed next to you, and you let him pull you into his chest again. You could feel how his taut back started to relax upon the contact. He pressed his lips on your forehead in a fleeting kiss.
"Promise me you won't pull that stunt again.”
You smirked. "I can't. What if Ichiji—"
"Then just let him die."
You swatted his arm playfully, pressing your head to his chest as he continued to run his fingers on your hair. He cushioned you carefully, and you felt the tension in him slowly melt away with each breath you took. In your mind, you figured he needed this closeness more than you did, if anything, for the sake of his sanity.
“I love you,” he whispered by your ear, kissing it lightly.
“Mmhm.”
As you felt Satoru's calming presence, it helped ease you into slumber. You soon found yourself in a deep sleep, comfortably held in his embrace.
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Epilogue
Ichiji gulped as Satoru stared him down, sizing him up as if he was the most despicable creature on this planet.
Okay, he might be. He was a coward, all he could do was trembling in the face of evil. But he had come in peace, even bringing fruits as an offering! He felt bad too that he was the partial cause for you to be this injured.
He was used to Satoru terrorizing him—calling him names, slapping him, and whatnot—and he could take it. Just this time, he really looked like he could murder him on the spot if he wanted to. A small part of Ichiji mourned that you were his girlfriend, because that pretty much sealed his fate that Gojo Satoru could indeed murder him on the spot because he had a valid enough reason to.
"You are—"
"No! I'm sorry, Gojo-san! I'm sorry for my incompetence!"
"Hah?"
If he was mildly irked before, now Satoru was visibly irritated.
"You're not cut out to be a jujutsu sorcerer," he started. "You're useless. You just get in the way most of the time."
Ichiji kept his head down. No, no. He can't cry!
"Get your driving license or I'll slap the shit out of you."
"Oh?" and before he knew it, Satoru had stalked away, leaving him in the dust. How rude! But...
Get a driver license? Quit the jujutsu work?
Hey, that sounds like something I can do!
8K notes · View notes
violetrainbow412-blog · 4 months
Note
Howdy! It's me again
How are you? I hope you are fine, and if not, then I encourage you from here!
Well, I would like to order something in which our dear Willy gets a little jealous because someone entered the factory and started flirting with his partner (reader) And that leads to a very affectionate moment between reader and Willy
Por cierto, qué le pones a los pedidos que escribes? Los siento muy emocionantes y me ponen a chillar a veces SJSGGWUW
(By the way, what do you put in the orders you write? I find them very exciting and they make me scream sometimes)
.—🌻
Tensions in the Factory [W. W]
Willy Wonka x fem!reader
word count: 1.7k
nota: ¡me hace muy feliz que te guste lo que escribo! creo que sólo se trata de hacerlo con amor (¿o algo así? jaja) Lamento haber tardado, entré a un trabajo durante vacaciones y apenas me queda tiempo, pero espero que sea de tu agrado, girasol:)
[ENG: It makes me very happy that you like what I write! I think it's just about doing it with love (or something like that? haha) I'm sorry it took me so long, I started a job during vacation and I barely have time left, but I hope you like it, sunflower:)]
taglist: @dyieying @reallysparklychaos [Timothée masterlist]
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“Your factory is impressive, Mr. Wonka,” said the man next to the boy, with a satisfied smile on his face after the tour he had given him.
Willy was pleased with the investor's recognition that he intended to finance a new branch for Wonka chocolates and if everything continued as expected, he knew that that same afternoon they would be signing a contract.
“I'm glad you like it. This is where all the magic happens, so I hope that with that new store things are even more promising for us.”
He wanted to add something else when, suddenly, he was interrupted by the vision of a person; it was you, beckoning to him from the other side of the factory with a board holding papers. He knew it had to be something important or else you would have waited, so he apologized to the young man at his side and walked quickly until he reached you.
“Oh, I'm sorry to bother you, but one of the machines that churns the chocolate is jammed and making a mess in there, do you think you can check it?” you murmured, sounding slightly worried about the situation.
“Yes, I'll go right away. While you will talk to Mr. Salt? Tell him to excuse me for a moment”
"Yes, I will do it"
“You're an angel, thank you for letting me know,” he said goodbye, gently caressing the side of your face and practically running to solve the problem you had just told him about.
The man looking at you curiously from the other side couldn't have been more than a couple of years older than Willy and he was handsome, dressed in a gray formal suit that was worthy of a businessman. You had heard that he had a lot of money and although at first the chocolatier was not very convinced, after thinking about it better he believed that it was a good time to expand his horizons; that included having more stores to sell more chocolates. He had told you about the idea and you had been excited about it, so you motivated him to contact interested businessmen.
Although you didn't really enjoy talking to strangers, you took a deep breath and walked over to where the man was to greet him.
“Mr. Salt?” you said timidly, to get his attention. He watched you for a moment and when he got a better look at you, then he smiled hugely.
“Just call me Henry, Henry Salt. It's my pleasure," he replied, reaching out to shake your hand a little longer than expected. "Are you Mr. Wonka's secretary?"
It wasn't the first time a guy thought that about you, after all you were always behind your boyfriend with that board in your hand, writing things down, checking the operation, and reminding him of everything, however, Willy had always said that you were his partner and he wouldn't expect anyone to disparage your position: this factory belongs to both of us, he always said. 
But it was easier to say yes than to explain all that.
“Something like that. He asked me to tell you that he had to attend to an emergency, but that he will be right back.”
"Oh, sure. There is no problem with it as long as you keep me company” he said happily.
The man was looking at you up and down, as if you were the most interesting thing he had seen in the factory so far, but you didn't notice it, because you were too focused on the thought of how Willy was handling the machinery.
“Did you like the factory?” you exclaimed, trying to get a topic of conversation that would kill the silence that had enveloped you.
You could tell that he was an educated man, because he immediately started talking to you about the structure of the building, finances, what a good investment it would be to open a branch and also about how much he loved chocolate.
“I have a daughter named Veruca. She is just a baby, but I hope to be able to give her everything she wants in the future. I only plan to work to fulfill her whims”
“Ow, that's sweet,” you tried to flatter. At least his motives were noble.
“She looks a little like you, actually. You are very beautiful"
You had to admit that the comment threw you off, but you still laughed nervously. Maybe he was just trying to be nice to you, so you could persuade Willy to close the deal with that man.
“Huh, I appreciate it, Mr. Salt.”
“What are your favorite chocolates? I imagine that being here you eat them in droves, right?” he murmured.
You hoped that with that the conversation would take a different direction, so you started talking to him about all the types of chocolates that Willy prepared for you: the sweet ones, some salty ones, the magical ones, the strange ones...
“But I think my favorites are definitely the mint chocolates. They may be simple, but Mr. Wonka prepares them in an exceptional way," you said dreamily, remembering that upon discovering it he had prepared an entire jar just for you.
“When the branch is open, you can stop by to eat all the mint chocolates you want. At a special price for special ladies”
You laughed at that, not so much out of desire but out of commitment to the potential client. Suddenly a hand was placed on your waist and when you turned in the direction of the body that had approached you, you noticed that it was who it could only be. You frowned slightly when you noticed that he was frowning, as if something had bothered him.
“I'm sorry I was late. Everything is in order now, would you like to accompany me inside, Mr. Salt?” he said. His voice sounded calm and stern, without that cheerful tone he always had, and he still had one hand planted firmly on your body.
“Of course,” the chocolatier made a sign for the opponent to start walking and he did not take his eyes off him at any time, noticing that Mr. Salt was looking at you with the same interest.
If he was unhappy with something, he didn't say it, and he just left a gentle kiss on your head.
“See you in a bit, okay?” You nodded and pushed him just a little, inviting him to follow the businessman you had just spoken to. He got lost down the hallway and you returned to your tasks, not imagining the feeling that was bubbling in your partner's chest.
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“That man is a complete idiot.”
You were surprised to hear the boy use those words and, above all, by the furious tone with which he had expressed himself. You interrupted your tasks of making dinner to pay attention to him.
“Who are you talking about?
“From Mr. Salt, of course! I didn't sign the contract with him. Don't even think about it, he's a… a complete nutcase”
"What are you talking about? What happened?" you asked, completely surprised by what he was telling you. You put everything aside to approach him and held his face to analyze his expression: it was extremely strange to see him this upset “Honey?”
“He was flirting with you! Don't think I didn't notice, when I left, he... he started talking to you that way. And not satisfied with that, he called you my assistant and then he hinted that he wanted a romance with you. He said punctually: I hope that, if I open this new branch, you will send your pretty assistant to help me with everything necessary” he was red with anger as he said that and he had to breathe for a moment to compose himself. "So I told him immediately that there was no deal if he dared to talk about my wife like that.”
There was too much to process at once. You felt disgusted at the idea that another man had shown interest in you, but at the same time you were surprised by how he had reacted. Willy wasn't a possessive husband, but right now you were feeling something strange about this side of him.
“You don't have to worry about that…”
“Of course I have to. You're beautiful and I'm sure everyone realizes that, but I won't let anyone look at you like he was looking at you. It is my job to protect you and that includes not entering into relationships with those who want to take advantage of you.”
He sounded sincere and passionate when he spoke, convincing you that he was very serious about the matter. Contrary to what he expected, you smiled and cupped his cheeks again to kiss him on the lips. He melted at the touch, you knew it by the way his shoulders completely relaxed and his hands came up to hold your elbows during the seconds you were kissing him.
Once he was more relaxed, you spoke.
“It's all right, love. Can you calm down?” you asked him. Your hand began to gently caress his cheeks and your eyes looked pleading, something he couldn't resist. “You shouldn't have wasted such an opportunity, but... I appreciate that you rejected it. For me"
“I would do anything for you,” he said immediately. Suddenly he felt the urge to kiss you again and he did, deeply and lovingly. You didn't resist.
“You're my only boy, you know that? No one in the world could take me from your arms” 
“That's not my fear, I know that nothing can separate us” he assured you, smiling from ear to ear. That's how sure he was about yours, that agreed with the pair of rings on your fingers “Besides, there will be more opportunities, you don't have to feel guilty about anything.”
“I don’t,” you exclaimed, to reassure him. You knew he had done the right thing and you loved him for it “Are you hungry? I'm making you something for dinner” you confessed and then he nodded.
He could smell what you were cooking and when you reached out to stir the contents of the saucepan with a stick, he hugged you from behind, starting to talk about something more trivial than that failed business and feeling clearly relaxed, now that he knew he was and he would always be the only owner of your heart.
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hotvintagepoll · 10 days
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Propaganda
Judy Garland (Meet Me In St. Louis, A Star is Born, Summer Stock)— Judy is the GOAT when it comes to classic movie musicals. The voice of an angel who deserved so much better than she got. She can sing she can dance she can act she's a triple threat. Though she had a turbulent personal life (her treatment as a child star by the studio system makes me mad as hell like Louis b Mayer fight me ((she was made to believe that she was physically unattractive by the constant criticism of film executives who made her feel ugly and who manipulated her onscreen appearance by capping her teeth and using discs in her nose to change its shape and Mayer called her "my little hunchback" like imagine hearing that as a child and not having damage)) she always goddamn delivered on screen and in any performance she gave. She began in vaudeville performing with her sisters and was signed to MGM at 13. Starting out in supporting parts especially paired with mickey Rooney in a bunch of films (she's the best part tbh) she eventually transferred to the lead role. She is best known for her starring role in movie musicals like the iconic Wizard of Oz (somewhere over the rainbow still hits hard and is ranked the top film song of all time), meet me in St. Louis (Judy singing have your self a merry little Christmas brings tears to the eyes she is that powerful), the Harvey girls (she looks like a technicolor dream and sings a catchy af song about trains), Easter parade ( dancing and singing with Fred Astaire), for me and my gal, the pirate, and summer stock ( with pal Gene Kelly who she helped when he was starting out and he helped her when she was struggling). But she also does non- singing just as well like the clock ( her first movie where she sings no songs and is an underrated ww2 era romance), her Oscar nominated a star is born ( like the man that got away she put her whole soul in that and I have beef with the fact she lost to grace kelly ((whom I love but like still not even her best work)), and judgement at Nuremberg (a courtroom drama about the nazi war criminal trials). Outside of film she made concert appearances to record-breaking audiences, released 8 studio albums, and had her own Emmy-nominated tv series. She was the youngest (39) and first female recipient of the Cecil B DeMille award for lifetime achievement in the film industry. Girl was a lifelong democrat and was a financial and moral supporter of many causes including the civil rights movement (she was at the March on Washington and held a press conference to protest the 16th street Baptist church bombings). She was a friend of the Kennedy family and would call jfk weekly often ending the calls by singing the first few lines of somewhere over the rainbow (she thought of them as Gemini twins).She was a member of the committee for the first amendment which was formed in response to the HUAC investigations. Though she died far too young and tragically she remains an icon for her work and her life. As a girl who didn't feel like i was as pretty as everyone else I have always felt a connection to Judy and I just really love her.
Natalie Wood (West Side Story, The Great Race)—She went through so much shit which I know can be said for all these women but Natalie really was a star and her death often overshadows her career and life. She could make you cry, but she also had the capacity to be incredibly funny which I think is lost on people.
This is round 4 of the tournament. All other polls in this bracket can be found here. Please reblog with further support of your beloved hot sexy vintage woman.
[additional propaganda submitted under the cut.]
Natalie Wood:
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Judy Garland:
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Judy's voice alone qualifies her for at least top ten hottest HOT VINTAGE MOVIE WOMEN. She was a truly incredible swing singer, with a stunning voice on top of her technique. Her short dark hair looked incredible in just about any style. Have I mentioned her swagger? I can’t do it justice with words. She had swagger. She was funny as hell, and clever too. Incredibly charming and cool. I adore her.
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Her eyes, her voice have bewitched me
I mean how can you beat the one and only Judy? She's beautiful, her smile is contagious, the way she sings with her whole body. You can't help but love her.
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Beautiful woman, love her singing voice. And she can do everything between happy or silly and angry or heartbroken
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Text
The Damned P.1
Toji Zenin x fem! reader
Synopsis: forced to get in with the Zenin clan by your parents as a servant, Toji Zenin seemed to damn you more than himself….
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Being a servant in the Zenin household was not for the weak-willed or the weak-minded, it took strong foundations of a strong mind to survive within these endless, lavishly adorned walls of the Zenin Compound. One of the three big clans in Jujutsu Society, blossoming the pure, clean bloodline of the strongest sorcerers in the modern and past Jujutsu eras.
Your parents pushed you into being here, young but not ditsy, focused yet polite. The Zenin really didn't care, they just wanted the free labour, but you did get a roof over your head when the Zenin took you in as a servant. Little did you know that your parents literally sent you off to serve strangers and live with them for God knows how long. Your cursed technique was strong and your parents wanted the Zenin to know that and get in with the family, even if you started as a lowly servant. To infiltrate? To gather information? To be married off? To destroy from the inside…? You didn’t know, nor did you care at this point.
The clan leader, Naobito Zenin, sent you off on your way as if he didn't give a single thought, as if he was washing away the dirt on his hands. You were young and inexperienced and you didn't deserve the reward of the bigger duties so you were sent Toji Zenin's way, the black sheep, the damned one in the Zenin clan. You would be the personal servant of Toji Zenin.
Which leads you here now, standing by the foot of his bed, ready to wake him up like you usually do. Late. It was nearing 11 am and the clan needed to be in the training quarters in about half an hour. You glanced at Toji, seeing the drool escape from his mouth, his hair roughed up, and the sheets that barely covered his naked chest. These were the only times you felt Toji not be intimidating. You opened up the curtains and the windows, letting the fresh air ventilate the room. He grunted when the light hit his eyes at the most perfectly uncomfortable angle.
“Get the hell out.” He groaned angrily as he covered his eyes with his bulky forearm.
“Rise and shine, Master Toji.” You say with a faint warmness, anything to keep this civilised and polite knowing he could lash out quickly. The light seeps through the room and bathes it in the sunlight. He looked peaceful lying there, it's shame you had to wake him. He never looked so peaceful while he was awake, and, sadly, we all know the reason why. Toii grumbled and groaned, lifting his arm from his eyes.
“Can't even fuckin' sleep in this damn house.” He opened his eyes and was met by the sight of the sun hitting against your silhouette. He then looked at your face and rolled his eyes, a sour expression filled his face once more. “And do me a favour, and don't call me 'master' if you don't want your teeth punched in.” Toji fucking hated that, fucking hated it all.
You immediately frown. “It's not like I want to call you that, you are my superior. I work for you, I have to refer to you as that.” You explain to Toji as if he didn't already know it clear as day. “Would you like me to bring in a gong and wake you up like that?” You say, a small smile tugging at your lips at the insane hypothetical.
“I don't give a damn if you have to call me that, just drop it.” He growled against his pillow, glaring at you in the process. Toji then sat up from the bed, resting his head on his right hand as he looked at you blankly. He couldn't help but believe that there was some charm to you in how you were so polite. Your expression had an innocence to it that he had never come across in the cesspit that was the Zenin compound. “If you dare bring a gong in here, I'll break it and then your ribs.”
You knew that he was very much capable of doing that, so you didn't push further. But your mouth ran faster than your brain.
“Well then Toji, if you break my ribs...who will be making you breakfast every morning? Speaking of which, if you want food, I'm making some. So get up.” You say a little more firmly this time, you've never been this challenging towards your superiors, part of you wants to take it back, what if the clan deject you for being disrespectful? You frown slightly and leave the room to head back to the kitchen and finish preparing his breakfast.
The first thing he did when you left the room was let out a groan of frustration. It was always like this, you were being too much of a pushover to him. Always too kind. That was what irritated him the most. Maybe he was projecting. He needed to stop thinking that. Toji got dressed into his montsuki and went into the bathroom to brush his teeth and freshen himself up, he hated how every day started the same.
-
Soon, you heard his footsteps walking towards the kitchen, a few seconds later his hulking figure appeared at the doorway, leaning against the frame as he crossed his arms.
“I can make my own breakfast.” He declared in a low and husky voice.
“No, you can't.” You say politely but your words carry some weight to them that resounded throughout the whole room.
Each clan member had a specific section of the compound to themselves, so you had an entire kitchen to yourself to prepare food for Toji. He couldn't make his breakfast even if he tried, servants were solely assigned that duty.
You glance up at him leaning against the doorway, you finish plating up his Teishoku and serve them, you place it on the kitchen island in front of you. “Coffee sir-? I mean Toji..” You say softly, fumbling over your words but correcting yourself.
Your words irked him like nothing else, you were so nice to him. He loathed it. What made you so kind in the face of someone like him? “Quit this 'sir' bullshit.” He was trying to play it cool, his eyebrows slightly raised as he spoke. Internally he was confused by your ongoing kindness, you were like this from day one. He didn't like the fact that he had to work around your kindness.
“I apologize. Bad habit.” You let out a nervous chuckle, trying to ignore the burning green gaze zeroing in on you. Your expression was trying to hide the fact that you were uncomfortable with his presence. Toji was a little more than impressed by how you were handling him like this still. After all, most people would be scared shitless already.
As you hand him his coffee, Toji notices the band-aids on your fingers. The skin looked red and brittle and it made him raise an eyebrow. “What happened to them? And don't say 'nothing' or 'it's nothing.” Toii muttered under his breath, trying to distance himself but still be curious at the same time.
“Oh, I burned myself by accident, the stove was too hot.” You respond a little curtly, turning your back and starting cleaning up and clearing away. It was clear you didn't want to talk about it, the real reason was rather daunting as Naoya Zenin threatened to break your fingers because you didn't do a task correctly.
Toji watched with intent simmering eyes as you turned your back to him. The first thing was that your reasoning behind it was obvious bullshit. You were lying through your teeth but quite frankly he didn't car enough to pry even further. "You're really clumsy, aren't you?”
Your shoulders relax as you sigh out, thankful he wasn't reading into it. “I am...I am. ..quite clumsy.” You breathe out.
You both know damn well you were the opposite but for now, it'll do. You turn around and take his empty tray once he finishes eating, giving him an agreeable smile. “Your training starts soon.”
Toji raised his eyebrow as an unamused look was engrained on his face. Why was his rudeness not affecting you in any way? Maybe you weren't listening to a thing he said, which made him even more annoyed. So he decided to try another approach. He just...didn't like how you...talked to him. “Can you stop being so polite to me? I never understand why servants are like this to their masters. Just do your job and stop acting like this.” He grunted.
You turn around and glared at him, annoyed that he didn't realize that you’re just doing your job. Anything less than perfection and obedience would be punished. But then again...who the hell were you to argue with a Zenin? “If that's...what you prefer.” You shrug your shoulders. You thought maybe he would appreciate some form of kindness considering the way his family actively despised him.
“Good...because there's no reason to be nice to me when I'm anything but.” He warned me you lowly. Toji was expecting you to break and lash out at him. Yet your reaction and expression left him feeling a little off-put. Why? Why weren't you saying anything? Why aren't you letting him walk all over you? He didn't like those thoughts.
Reluctantly, you nod your head, lips thinning into a straight line, and you try to stay as neutral as possible. If this is what he wanted, who the hell were you to argue? After finishing cleaning the kitchen, you make a move to leave the room. As you made your way to leave, Toji couldn't help but notice that your back was as straight as an arrow. Your body looked so proper and elegant, unlike others. Just your simple back in that tight-fitting kimono was enough to make him stare a few moments longer than necessary. That's when he called out to you and spoke with a neutral expression: “Do you always have to be so proper and respectful?”
Yet his voice was...softer.
You stop in your tracks. “I'm just doing my job.” You reply quietly, trying to get him to grasp that you're just doing what you're supposed to do. You walk away and leave him wordless from the kitchen, letting your words linger in his brain a lot longer than he should have.
-
pt 2 coming soon, get ready for angst and sexy times in the near future.
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lqveharrington · 5 months
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Silver Roses & Fallen Snow
1: Reaping Day (masterlist for series)
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summary: Reaping day has arrived, and the new rule for who wins the Plinth prize has everyone on their toes.
pairing: young!coriolanus snow x fem!reader
warnings: some suggestiveness, loads of fluff, your father and arachne are dicks, coriolanus being slightly jealous again, let me know if i missed any !!
word count: 3.2k +
a/n: heads up, i did change the reader’s last name because i needed it to be more cohesive with the writing! don’t worry, i changed the prolouge to have it say ‘Lovett’ instead of L/N. Speaking of which, if you haven’t read the prolouge yet, it’s linked here !!
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You sat with your arms wrapped around Coriolanus’ bare torso, cheek pressed against his back. It was early in the morning, and you weren’t supposed to be there. Your father hated when you stayed over at their home, leading you to sneak out at night. The truth is, you almost always slept over at the Snows’ place. You felt more comfortable with them than your own manor.
But, that night you had to stay over as the day was more important than ever. They were announcing the winner of the Plinth prize and the tributes for the tenth annual Hunger Games.
You rubbed soft circles into the male's back, hoping to ease the anxiety building up.
“You’re going to win the Plinth prize, Coryo.” You whisper as you feel him start to rub your calf. “I know you will.”
Coryo messed with his father’s old compass. It gave him a sense of order in any time of need. “For you and my family.”
He felt you grin and plant faint kisses on his back. “Dean Highbottom will have no choice but to give it to you. You are by far the smartest one in our grade, no doubt the one with the best grades and attendance.”
“Besides you, beautiful.” He pulled you around to his side, tilting your chin up with one delicate hand. “If you win, do you think your father will still let me date you?”
“I highly doubt that, but you’ll win, Coryo. I believe in you.” You say as he takes your chin, guiding you into a gentle kiss. “It’ll be over in a few hours, and we’ll be fine.”
“We’ll be fine.” He murmurs against your soft lips. He leans his forehead against your own, his nose softly nudges yours. “We always will be.”
You stay in that position for a while, soaking in the warmth smiting from one another’s body. Your skin was soft against his making the moment more intimate, soothing both of your racing hearts.
When the clock read six AM, you knew you couldn’t stay any longer. You do your best to untangle yourself from him, earning a defeated sigh.
“I have to go.” You slowly stand from his bed, stretching out your body. He pulled you in by the waist, chin resting on your exposed abdomen.
“You have some time, right?” He raises his brows, nodding toward the direction of the bathroom.
You run your fingers through his blond hair, pretending to contemplate his question before answering. “If I ever say no to that, I think I would’ve gone insane.”
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“Okay, I actually have to go now, Coriolanus. My father will have our heads.” You attempt to pull apart from his kisses, your school uniform on from last night. “I have to get home and get changed.”
He pulls you by the waist, shirt missing still. “Okay okay, I love you.”
You place one last kiss on his lips, patting his chest. “Love you too.”
You find Grandma’am in the other room, offering her a smile. “I’ll see you later, Grandma’am.”
“Bye now, darling.” She rubs your arm in a loving motion.
Glancing at Coriolanus one last time, you open the door to find Tigris standing there. You smiled brightly at her, opening the door wider.
“Coryo, I found your cousin!” You call out in the apartment.
“Were you just about to leave?” She stepped inside, Coriolanus’ shirt hanging from her hands.
“I am, I have to get home before the reaping.” You silently admire her handy work for the dress shirt.
She nodded and called for her cousin. “Coryo!”
You took one step out the door, but Tigris caught your arm. She lowered her voice when talking, hoping that you would be the only one to hear. “I would cover up those hickey marks if I were you, Y/N.”
You gasp, holding onto your neck. Your eyes search for the male who gave you such markings, glaring at his smirking figure.
“Coryo.” You flush red, realizing what he has done. “I don’t have— You know what? I’ll deal with it. I’ll see you soon.”
You leave their flat with a quick pace and head to your own home. You never took the car, knowing it was obvious where you went if you did. Instead, you had to walk back, leaving your hand by the marked-up area on your neck.
Upon reaching your room, you quickly changed into one of your mother’s old dresses for the reaping. It was a slightly puffy long-sleeved, black satin dress with a v-neck that tied in a bow by the high waistline. You clipped on your silver rose earrings, and silver bracelet, and adjusted the silver necklace already adorned on you; The necklace that was given by Coriolanus on your birthday. Your hair and makeup were swiftly done, thankfully remembering to cover the prominent hickeys. You slipped on your platform boots and rushed down the manor’s stairs, grabbing your bag by the door.
“Good luck today.” Your father comments, nodding at you. “Hopefully you get a good one.”
You flash a weak smile before heading out the front door and into the car where your chauffeur was waiting. Your thoughts flickered through many things, but your father’s words stuck with you.
A few minutes later, you arrived at the Capitol building. You thanked your chauffeur and met up with Clemensia by the front, discussing the Plinth prize when an arm pulled you away from her; Probably for the hundredth time.
“Don’t you look beautiful.” The blond spoke in a straightforward yet amiable tone, leading you inside.
“And you look handsome as ever, Coryo.” You briefly look at him, arms still looped together. His father’s shirt fitted on him with Grandma’am’s signature rose pinned to his black vest. “You have to stop pulling me away from Clemmie. We were actually having a good conversation today.”
“Hm, she can deal with it. I’ve been taking you from her since we were children.”
“You’re as pure as the driven snow.” You tease, earning an eye roll.
The both of you saw and met up with your other classmates: Felix Ravinstill, Arachne Crane, and Festus Creed. Each one having a different emotion plastered across their face.
“Finally, the couple of the hour,” Arachne announced before she took a sip from the drink in her hand. She complimented your dress in a dismissive action then directed her attention to Coriolanus. “That’s a snazzy shirt, what are those buttons? Tesserae?”
“Oh. That’s why they remind me of the maid’s bathroom.” He messed with the shirt in response, earning a subtle slap on the arm from you.
“Have you tried this lamb? It’s scandalous.” Felix commented as he ate.
You raise a brow, “What an odd choice of words, Ravinstill.”
“It’s delicious, thank you—“
“Only the vulgar eat with their fingers, Felix,” Festus said in disgust. “What? Daddy not teach you table manners?”
“Maybe he would’ve if he wasn’t so busy running the country.” He shot back. Felix shifted his gaze between the group. “Hey, they called us here for the Plinth prize, right? Because I hear Dr. Gaul is in the building.”
You shuffle uncomfortably at the shared information, picking at your nails.
He scoffs as his gaze finds the Plinths. “Plinth. I mean, look at his spawn. Who would’ve thought that you could buy your way into the Capitol.”
“Well, you can’t buy class. Did you see his mother’s outfit? Sorry, his Ma’s.” Festus corrected himself in a way Sejanus would speak.
“Dress a turnip in a ball gown and it’ll still beg to be mashed,” Coriolanus added to the conversation through calculated words.
“Don’t do that.” You mumble toward him, taking a drink off of one of the server’s trays.
“We all know that you like him,” Arachne spoke to Coriolanus.
He retorted back, “I don’t like him, Arachne. I tolerate him.” He lightly shrugged. “He’s district.”
You frown at his words but say nothing, opting to sip on the drink while waiting for the reaping to start.
“Tolerate him, just don’t encourage him,” Festus replied as Arachne mouthed words of distrust. “If I hear one more time about how immoral these hunger games are, I’ll put him in the arena my…”
Sejanus came over, silencing the current conversation at hand. You gave him a small smile, earning one back.
“Sejanus, you made it to the reaping—” You were cut off by Festus.
“For once.”
“And you made it to graduation, Festus. We’re both shocked.”
You and Coryo let out a breathy chuckle at the comeback as Arachne starts to question him about the winner of the Plinth prize.
“Oh no, I’m not going to ruin my father’s big day. No one here actually likes him, but they do love his money.” Sejanus answers her, looking around the room. “You know what that’s like, right Arachne?”
“Funny.” She scowls, leaving the group.
The men try to hold back their laughter whilst you roll your eyes at them, leaving the side of your lover. By leaving, you had him following you around like a lost puppy; Eventually letting him wrap an arm around your waist. You both make rounds in the extensive building. You greeted those who talked to you or had a familiar face while Coryo simply observed your social manner.
As you left the conversation with your other classmates, you brought up Arachne, finding her sulking in a corner. “You would think she could handle that insult from Sejanus since she dishes out half of the others in this place.”
He hummed in agreement with you, “She never stops talking.”
“Never does.” You place your empty glass down on one of the tables.
Music started to play through the speakers, announcing that the reaping was about to begin. Coryo led you to your seats, helping you up the platform before taking his seat.
“Good luck, Coryo.” You squeeze his hand as you take the seat beside him, Clemnsia taking the seat to your left.
Coriolanus let you take his hand into your lap, letting your fidgeting soothe his never-ending nerves.
“Clem, does it feel like something’s off today? Usually, the reaping and Plinth prize doesn’t require Dr. Gaul’s presence.” You strike up a conversation with the raven-haired girl. “Something is going to happen, and I’m not too sure it’s a good thing.”
“I’m sure everything will be fine, Y/N. Besides, we all know Coryo is going to win that Plinth prize.” She crosses her legs at the same time as you. “You’re going to be drowning in the money.”
“Well, it’s not mine.” You squeeze the blond’s hand again, his thumb rubbing small circles on yours. “It’s his to spend in any way he wants.”
“You’re his—“
Clemensia was interrupted by Dr. Gaul’s sinister laugh, silencing the entire room.
“How tantalizing to see all your shining, young faces on this auspicious day.” Dr. Gaul starts, Coryo lacing your hands back together. “I am Dr. Volumina Gaul, your humble head game maker, in charge of the war department and all its affiliated conserves. I’ve broken free of my laboratory today…”
Her voice cancels out in your mind, your heart racing a million miles per hour by her ominous nature. Something was definitely wrong. From Dr. Gaul being here to Coriolanus being nervous to your father’s words, your gut told you that everything would go downhill from today’s reaping. With each passing second, the drumming in your ears got louder and the world around you blurred, blinking furiously to rid of the mush of colors.
Coryo noticed the shift in your small actions, bringing his thumb to the pulse on your wrist. He started to trace shapes, calming you down to a certain degree.
You return to the present conversation when Dean Highbottom mentioned the Plinth prize. You sat up straight and held your breath, glancing at Coryo.
“However,” he pauses, looking down toward the floor. “I am here to tell you there’s been a change this year. One final assignment to prove your worth… Because the esteemed citizens of the Capitol have grown bored of the games and simply aren’t watching anymore. And if the games are to continue at all, there must be an audience. So, head game maker, Dr. Gaul has stepped in to incentivize patriotic values with her own unique flare; Starting with you.”
Coriolanus met your concerned eyes when he took a glimpse at you, looking down at your fiddling hands.
“The Plinth prize will no longer be determined by who has the best grades—“
“Excuse me?” You and Arachne say at the same time, frowning at his words.
“—But by who is the best mentor in the Hunger Games.”
Your calmed self faltered by his words. The drumming and blur of the world in front of you returned with each word that came out of Highbottom’s mouth. Coryo squeezed your hand, trying to regulate your breathing, but it wasn’t working. The careful wall built around your true emotions, which only a select amount of people saw, chipped away. You didn’t want to mentor an innocent person to their inevitable death just to win the Plinth prize. No, you wanted the male to your right to win the Plinth prize through his intelligence, zero deaths included.
“This is a brand new rule.” The dean continues. “As the reaping progresses live, I will allocate each district tribute a Capitol mentor behind the scenes; One who must, you know, just persuade them to perform for the cameras.”
“Obviously, the best mentor will be the one whose tribute wins the games,” Festus added fuel to the fire currently burning at your skin.
“What if I get a pathetic mark girl from one of the poor districts like eight or twelve? They’re just gonna die in two minutes like they did last year and the year before.” Arachne complained once more, irritation bubbling inside you.
“Your role is to turn these children into spectacles, Miss Crane. Not survivors.” Dean Highbottom answered her with an unidentifiable undertone. “Victory in the games is only one of our considerations. Your entire future rests on this last project.”
A beat passes.
“Oh, and I must tell you that anyone caught cheating, to give their tributes an unfair advantage, will just have no future at all.” He shrugs, looking at the twenty-four best students in the class.
The music for the reaping blasts through the speakers, making your head snap up at the two screens displaying the tributes. This time, Coryo takes your hand and brings it to his lap, making it easier for him to calm your figure down as the dean assigns each tribute to each one of your classmates.
For you, the only things you saw were innocent people who didn’t want to fight. With every child passing the screen, your heart broke. You never wanted to be placed in a situation where you either lived or died for the entertainment purposes of those wealthier than you.
“Eleven,” Highbottom speaks loudly, looking at his paper of names. “Boy, Clemensia Dovecote. Girl, Y/N Lovett.”
Your eyes focus on the poor girl walking up to the stage. This was your absolute final straw. The girl was clearly sick and needed medical attention before performing such demanding tasks such as the Hunger Games. Your heart shattered as the peacekeepers took her away.
You would be damned if that girl died in vain, and it was your task to protect the girl, not turn her into a spectacle of entertainment.
“Twelve. Boy, Vipsania Sickle. Oh, you’ll be happy about this Miss Crane.” Dean Highbottom walks off the platform, gesturing to the screens. “The runt girl, District Twelve, belongs to Coriolanus Snow.”
The screen flashes to the girl from District Twelve as she makes her way up the stage. Something about her aura made you believe she was not the runt girl Highbottom made her out to be. Her rainbow-colored dress gave an interesting twist to the reaping, district people never wore such bright colors together.
“What is that dress? Is she some sort of clown?” Arachne insults the girl. Her words clicked something in your mind, having enough of her for the day.
“I think her dress is beautiful, Crane. Unlike the way you dress daily, you could be mistaken for a district girl.” You fire, Coryo tightening his grip on your hand.
She sneers at you but turns her attention back to the screen when screaming is heard from the speakers.
Coriolanus jumps out of his seat, dropping your hand in the process. You’ve never seen him react in such a way, shocking you at most. The only other time he acted like that was when you nearly slipped down winding stairs during winter.
He remained standing as the girl, now known as Lucy Gray, started singing, earning murmurs from the crowd in the building.
“Singing.” Arachne hums. “Is she out of her mind?”
You whip your head toward the girl, “For the love of everyone in the Capitol, shut up, Crane. Our ears bleed each time you speak.”
She snaps her mouth shut, face red from the embarrassment you caused. You hum in satisfaction, earning a small smirk from Coryo, something you didn’t see before screaming can be heard once more.
“YOU CAN KISS MY ASS!” Lucy Gray screams with all her emotion.
Everyone in the building started to laugh at the tribute’s actions, a few murmurs going around about the young woman. You grin at the girl’s fearlessness but remember your own tribute, your grin fading. Your boyfriend, on the other hand, let out an airy chuckle, a small grin making its way on his face at his allocated tribute.
Lucy Gray takes her bow on stage and gets escorted out, along with Jessup. The screens flash to black and it seemed like all anyone could talk about was Lucy Gray. About how she was possibly crazy or mentally ill. Or about how she presented herself in such an interesting way. She was by far the crowd’s favorite at the moment.
You look up at your boyfriend, finding him already staring at you.
“What?” You give him a puzzling stare.
“Let’s go.”
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Your arm was looped with Coriolanus’ again, silence filling the empty halls as you left the Capitol building.
“Are you okay?” Coryo lowered his head by your ear, pulling you beside one of the pillars.
You shake your head, “Don’t worry about me—“
“My job is to worry about you.” He placed his hands on your shoulders. “What’s going on in your mind?”
“I…” You searched his eyes for something. You didn’t know exactly what you were looking for, but you couldn’t find it.
A voice cleared their throat behind the both of you, alerting you of his presence. You tilt your head to the left, seeing Dean Highbottom wait expectantly, most likely for Coriolanus.
“Are you staying over tonight?” The blond asked, rubbing circles into your shoulders.
“I don’t think so…” You murmur close to him. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“I love you.” He pecked your forehead, letting you go.
You give a weak smile, “Love you too.”
Clutching your bag by your side, you finally exit the building, finding your brilliant chauffeur waiting for you.
“Miss Lovett, your father informed me to tell you to start picking out a new suitor.” He said as he opened the car door for you.
You took a deep breath. Reaping day was finally over, but the mentoring had just begun.
taglist: @peterparkerluvvbot @nathaslosthershit @springholland @psychicpuppyarcade @emma-andrea1 (ask for taglist on comments or dm !!)
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beomiracles · 1 month
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sex with a ghost ft yeonjun
─ dark lustful eyes pierce yours, "still think I'm not real, angel?", he taunts as he moves in and out of you slowly.
A/N ─ heh, hey :3 I've been working on this all evening but I sorta gave up on the proofreading part... it's 1am ok. My longest one part fic yet, coming in at 7.3k words exactly >_< I am DESPERATE to know your thoughts on it !!!!
pairings: ghost!taehyun x psychic!afab!reader warnings: major character death, slight descriptions of character death, ANGST, cheating???, eventual smut, fingering, oral (f rec), vaginal penetration, slight degradation but also praise, multiple love interests if you close your eyes squint and believe.
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A screeching sound can be heard echoing through the quiet neighbourhood as your car comes to a stop. You really needed to invest in a new one soon.
Gathering your supplies, you step out to be faced with a large apartment complex. The neighbourhood was foreign to you, though the houses looked to be well maintained.
Climbing the stairs to the entrance you curse yourself for choosing heels today. The doorbell rings, once, twice, you're greeted by an elderly woman's voice through the small speaker. "Hello ma'am, it's y/l/n, from-"
"Oh! Yes of course I know where you're from, come on in!", the doors swing open and you make your way through the entrance. The elevator makes a noise as the doors open on the seventh floor and you walk out.
The elderly lady whose voice you'd heard on the speaker is already standing in the doorway, waving you over. As you reach her you bow, "miss, y/l/n y/n, ma'am". The woman smiles as she introduces herself as Mrs Kang.
Mrs Kang leads you through the small hallway into a spacious living room with a marvellous view of the city. "Tea, coffee?", she asks as she takes place behind the counter in the joint kitchen space. "Just water will do fine, anything else tends to mess with my work", you say as you sit down by the dining table.
Taking out a wax candle you place it in the centre of the table. Around it you lay various dried herbs, the whole thing is finished off with a ring of salt around it. Mrs Kang returns with two glasses of water as she places one in front of you. You thank her and take a sip.
As Mrs Kang takes a seat in front of you she eyes the candle. You bring out a box of matches, "before I start, would you mind telling me about your son?".
The woman nods as she clears her throat, "I...well he passed just two months ago", she says, fingers picking at her cuticles in an anxious manner. "May I ask how?", your voice is soft as you keep your gaze on her.
Mrs Kang swallows, "it was a car accident, he...it was his friend who was behind the wheel", she shakes her head, "my Taehyunnie, he wasn't...he wasn't irresponsible like that he...", tears fill her eyes as she continuously shakes her head.
You offer her a tissue to which she silently thanks you. Wiping her eyes with shaking hands before she finally meets your gaze again. "It's wrong", she states, "I should not have to bury my child...". She holds back a sob as she continues, "I should witness him fall in love, g-get married and...", a sob escapes her throat, "a-and start a family of his own".
"He was so young", she cries, burrowing her face in the tissue. You extend your hand to caress hers. "I know, and I am so incredibly sorry for your loss".
Despite doing this for a living you still felt rather stale in situations like these. It felt as if you were invading a very private and personal part of her life.
As Mrs Kang's breathing slowly returns to normal you try and shift the direction of the conversation. "Why don't you tell me about how Taehyun was?" you give your most kindhearted smile. "What did he enjoy, was he afraid of something, did he have any dreams?"
Mrs Kang smiles, "he wanted to become a singer". She scoffs as she leans back in her chair, "I always told him he would do good as a model, he was very beautiful you know", she says and you nod, "I'm sure he was".
Mrs Kang shakes her head, "but there was no changing his mind, music was his sole passion". "The hours he would spend cooped up in his room, writing his heart away".
So he liked music? "And what about friends? A girlfriend?" Mrs Kang is silent for a moment, "he didn't have many friends growing up", she admits, "he wasn't very social...", a troubled look presents itself on her face, "perhaps I could've done more I.."
"You did an amazing job raising him, I'm sure", you say as your hand gives hers a squeeze. Mrs Kang gives you a thankful smile, "he did find a few friends through music", she frowns, "but he never brought a girl home".
She shakes her head, "but what do I know? he moved out years ago... I just, could never bring myself to do anything with his room...he's my only baby". Her bottom lip quivers slightly as her voice cracks, "and now...now it's all I have left of him.."
"I completely understand, and I appreciate you sharing all of this with me, I know it isn't easy for you". Mrs Kang nods as she blows her nose with the tissue before discarding it. "Whatever helps you maybe get in contact with him, I'm willing to do anything", she says, a hopeful look on her face.
"Then shall we get started?" you bring out a match, lighting it as you place it next to the wax candle. As the flame takes to life you blow out the match and place it down on the table.
You close your eyes as you take both of Mrs Kang's hands in your own. It doesn't take long before a familiar feeling fills your chest. It's sharp, pushing at your ribs, it feels as if they're about to crack, but it doesn't hurt.
That's how you know that there's something else present, someone else. "Kang Taehyun?" you ask and the surge in your chest grows tighter, you smile. "My name is y/n, I'm here with your mother", you can feel Mrs. Kang's grip on your hands tighten.
"He's here", you say as you open your eyes, "do you have any questions for him? anything you want him to know?". Mrs Kang nods, "I want to tell him that I love him..", she whispers, almost pleadingly. You nod.
"Your mother tells you that she loves you, Taehyun", you await his answer. The spirits never spoke verbally, but would send off different auras, they each held different emotions.
The surge in your chest suddenly felt warm, you smile, "he loves you too". Tears once again fill Mrs. Kang's eyes as she lets out a small sob, "ask him if he's happy, please, I need to know that my baby is alright".
You refocus your attention to the surge in your chest, "your mother asks if you're happy, Taehyun". You're unable to hide the surprise on your face as the pull on your chest immediately darkens, it's almost painful, you've never felt something quite like it before.
Mrs Kang is quick to notice the change in your expression, "what? what's wrong?", she asks worriedly. You shake your head as you close your eyes. The intensity of the surge grows with each second, "he's not happy", you admit and Mrs Kang lets out a small cry.
A soul lingers between the living and the dead for one of two reasons, it can stay behind to watch over loved ones, or it is unable to move on. Judging by the dark pull on your chest you would assume the latter. "Taehyun, why do you linger?", you ask, eyes closed.
The pull on your chest starts thumping rhythmically, almost like a heartbeat. It's quick, harsh, angry. Your eyes snap open, and your hand grips the collar of your shirt.
Mrs Kang immediately stops crying as she looks at you with a horrified expression, "what's wrong dear?" she exclaims. You shake your head, "I've never felt anything like this before", you admit as you take a deep breath.
The thumping is so loud that you fear your eardrums might burst. Quickly leaning forward you blow out the candle and everything comes to an abrupt stop.
It takes you a moment to recollect yourself as your breathing returns to normal. When it finally does you look up at Mrs Kang, "may I see his room?".
Taehyun's room is neat, it feels almost melancholic, frozen in time. Your hands graze along the the shelves filled with albums of different artists. His closet was empty, to be expected. Your gaze lingers on a piece of paper discarded on his desk.
Picking it up you study the words scribbled on it, the handwriting is neat but most of the words have been erased or drawn over. It looks to be lyrics, was it a song he worked on?
"That one was no good", a voice speaks. You shriek, immediately dropping the paper. As you turn around you're met with a young man, possibly in his early twenties. His short black hair lay messily atop his head, his eyes are dark as they study you. Hands digging deep into the pockets of his denim jeans.
"What the fu...who are you?", you ask as you take a step back, your legs hitting the desk behind you. The man raises an eyebrow, "thought we met already".
It takes a moment for you to piece together his words and his comment about the paper in your hand. The way he was standing so causally... as if it were his own room.
"Kang Taehyun?"
He smirks, "in the flesh, well not really". Your jaw goes slack as you stare at the man in front of you. "But...that's not possible, you're...you're",─"dead?", he asks to which you nod.
He shrugs as he takes a step toward you, "your black magic seems to have done a lot more than you expected it to". His dark eyes pierce yours as his brow twitches slightly, "I'll give you that though, I never really believed in the supernatural".
Your mind is still in shambles as you try and make sense of the situation, "how are you here? it makes no sense..". You blink, once, twice, but he remains. You close your eyes for a solid thirty seconds before peeking them open. "You're strange", Taehyun comments and you feel as if your legs are about to give out.
"This can't be happening", your hands claps around your head, "I must be going crazy, yeah that's it, I'm hallucinating". You let out a short laugh, "I really need to get more sleep, I'll take a nap as soon as I come home, yes, that'll solve it".
"Do all psychics talk to themselves?", he asks as he tilts his head. You breathe in, then out, "you're not real", it's a statement not a question. And just like that Taehyun vanishes, the tension in the room slowly lifts and you feel yourself relax as you blink a few times.
Then he suddenly appears again, closer, so close that you could touch him. "Then what am I?" he inquires. His pale hand reaches out to graze yours and you jump, knocking the decorations on his desk.
"Is that not real?", he asks to which you shake your head. Taehyun frowns, he looks almost as if he's about to say something but stops himself. He vanishes, but in less than a second he reappears, now sitting on his bed.
You're about to speak again but the sound of the bedroom door opening has you snapping your head in said direction. Mrs Kang enters, "is everything alright? I heard a noise..."
"I'm fine but I...", you begin as you turn toward the bed, it's empty. Taehyun was gone again.
Mrs. Kang thanks you over and over as she promises to treat you to dinner whenever you wished. You too, thanked her immensely for her hospitality and made sure that you would let her know should anything happen.
You didn't tell her about Taehyun, you were sure it had all been a hallucination. It was true, you were sleeping a lot less these days. You didn't know why, you had never had a problem with insomnia before but you suppose that surrounding yourself with the dead had a certain effect on people.
Still, it didn't explain the fact that you had felt his touch. His hand had been cold, hard as if made out of steel. It was like his whole body was frozen in time. Lucid hallucinations were not something you'd heard of so how...
Thinking that all you needed was a good nights sleep, you made your way home. The keys jingle in the lock as you twist them around in your hand. Kicking your damned heels off, you stumble into the kitchen.
Your hands still had a slight tremble to them as you poured yourself a glass of wine. Drinking on weekdays, alone, wasn't usually your forte but you figured that you needed it if you wanted to get any sleep tonight.
Bringing the glass to your lips you take a sip. "Didn't take you for a drinker", Taehyun's voice is loud, it feels as if its coming from within you. It startles you and the glass slips out of your hands and shatters onto the floor. Red liquor coating the wooden planks.
"Fuck", you look up to be met with Taehyun's figure on the other side of the countertop. "You followed me?". Taehyun shrugs, "if that's what you can call it".
You frown, this was way out of your level of knowledge. You had never heard of a spirit taking a physical form, even less clinging to a host. Were you the only one that could see him? Was that why he vanished when Mrs Kang entered the room?
"I don't understand...", you study his face, unable to read it. "I wish I did but it seems I am as clueless as you are", he says as he leans his forearms on the counter.
"I...I did nothing different today", you mumble as your mind retraces the events of the day. "Then how are you able to take on a physical form? granted I'm not going crazy of course".
"I couldn't, not before at least", he drawls, "then you came along", he smirks, "and suddenly I could". You thought you might've officially lost it now.
You cross your arms, "it doesn't explain why you're following me of all". He frowns, "you're the only one who will listen", he leans closer over the countertop, "I thought you knew that already".
I'm the only one who will listen? He had to imply that others did not see nor hear him. You chew on your bottom lip nervously, "you have to excuse my manners earlier", he grins, "it's been ages since I last had human interaction".
His words make your eyes snap back to him. That's right, he wasn't human, not anymore. He was a ghost, and the only reason he was still here was because he's either watching over someone, or he's unable to move on.
"Why don't you let your soul continue? Why do you still cling to this world?" you ask. Taehyun's expression visibly darkens to the point where he almost looks demonic. "I've got unfinished business here", his words are almost inaudible.
"Unfinished business? what kind?" you press for answers but Taehyun remains quiet. "Does it have anything to do with your mom? your friends? your music?". Every question has his muscles tensing further until he slams his fist down on the countertop, "quiet, please".
You gulp, his knuckles leave a small dent in the marble stone but his hand remains untainted. Despite his harsh outburst another question bubbles at the surface that is your mind. You can't help but ask it.
"Was...was your death not an accident?"
Taehyun's dark eyes find yours as he locks them in place. It feels as if the room temperature dropped at least ten degrees and a shiver creeps up your spine. Yet you stand your ground as you refuse to break eye contact with the ghost.
It's quiet for what feels like forever until the soft rattling of keys from somewhere in the hallway grabs your attention. "Babe, 'm home", a voice calls out and soon Yeonjun comes into vision.
He's carrying two bags of groceries as he sets them down on the countertop. "Hey, you okay? you look like you've seen a ghost", he says as he makes his way around the counter to you.
"I...", you eyes flicker between your boyfriend and the now empty spot where Taehyun had previously been. "Shit, what happened here?", he asks as he bends down to pick up the remains of the wine glass. You had completely forgot about that.
"Oh, right I...I'm just tired I, I was going to clean it up", you rush to help him but a hand on your wrist stops you. "Go rest, babe", Yeonjun smiles as he gives your forehead a kiss, "I'll make us dinner, yeah?".
After the two of you have eaten you offer to do the dishes since Yeonjun had been nice enough to cook for the two of you. Yet you felt your hands trembling as you turned the plates over in your hands.
The whole day had put your body in a state of constant unease and you felt watched at all times. Lean arms wrap around your waist causing you to jump in surprise, the plate falls out of your hands and down in the sink again. Luckily it doesn't break.
"What's wrong, babe?" Yeonjun asks against your neck as he presses a soft kiss to it. You shake your head, "it's just been a long day", you say, and it's partly the truth. Your boyfriend hums as he turns the sink off, "I'll finish it up, do you want me to stay the night?".
Not even thirty minutes later you're laid in bed, your boyfriend's arm draped across your waist as the comforting sounds of his snores fill the room.
Though you hadn't seen Taehyun since earlier that evening you still felt that he was there. You didn't know why but it put you on edge and it wasn't until the early morning hours when you finally fell asleep.
You wake up the next morning to an empty bed, as you make your way into the kitchen the dishes are done for you. A small note is placed on the fridge, "leftovers packed in the fridge for lunch, don't forget to eat, ─ love Yeonjun".
You smile as your fingers trace the outline of the small note. Glancing over at the oven clock confirms the fact that you had indeed slept in. Though your next client wasn't until this afternoon, it gave you plenty of time to get ready.
You don't see Taehyun, not when you shower, blow dry your hair, eat your breakfast or do your makeup. Leaving your supplies in the car the day before meant that it was only for you to get going. One last look in the mirror and you're off.
The google maps on your car glitches a couple times making your way to the client's house a huge detour. Nonetheless you still manage to make it in time.
When you arrive you're greeted by the younger man who'd called. He looked your age, perhaps even younger. He led you through the small hallway and kitchen into a cute living room.
The house spoke to you in many ways and you found yourself admiring the paintings on the walls as you waited whilst he brought the two of you some water.
He sits on the sofa across from you, wiping his hands nervously on his pants. You smile, "I understand that you have called me regarding your late grandfather, correct?", he nods.
"He passed almost four years ago...", he says as he looks down at his hands. "May I ask how?", your voice is soft as you place your hands on your lap. "Cancer", he says and you nod, "I am incredibly sorry for your loss", you reach a hand out to grab his.
His eyes widen as they travel between yours and the way your hands interlinked. "If you trust me, I will be happy to reach out to him for you", you say and the man nods.
"I will require both of your hands", you say as you extend your other hand, he quickly takes it. His hands feel sweaty against your own, probably nerves you thought.
Closing your eyes you search for that familiar pull on your chest. When you find it you instantly smile, the pull is soft and gentle, like that of an old person.
"Mr Park, my name is y/n, I'm here with your grandson", you say. The pull on your chest instantly blooms into warmth. "He's here", you smile.
As you blow out the small candle the pull on your chest seizes. The man is quick to thank you over and over. You notice how his hands still haven't let go of yours.
"He likes you".
Taehyun's voice is a stark contrast to that of the man in front of you as he sits on the sofa next to him. If you were surprised by his appearance the man in front of you hadn't seemed to notice.
You frown toward Taehyun, but his gaze is fixated on the man next to him. "I uhm, I wanted to say that I really admire the work you do.." he says shyly and you smile.
"What an ass kisser", Taehyun comments in a disgusted tone, "he just wants to get you in bed, it's written all over him", he grimaces. You ignore him as you offer the man a smile. "Thank you", you say as you squeeze his hands in an attempt to make him let go.
He lets go as he nervously begins to fiddle with his fingers, "I was hoping...no, wanting to ask if...", he clears his throat nervously, "if maybe I could see you again?" You nod, "if you would like to request my services again that's completely fine just-"
"No I...I was wondering if I could see you...", he says as his face flushes with color. Oh. Taehyun scoffs and averts his gaze, arms folding over his chest.
"I'm uh, I'm afraid that's not possible", you say as you rub your wrist awkwardly. He quickly nods and clears his throat, "right, of course, it's quite alright", he reassures as he stands up. "I'll see you out?", you give him an awkward smile as you nod. "That would be nice".
Despite having had a shower that same morning your body yearned for a second one. The sweat of that man felt as if It clung to you and the whole situation had been so awkward that you just wanted to get in the shower and wash it all off.
The warm water cascaded down your body and your ran your fingers through your hair. For some reason you found your mind wandering to Taehyun and you didn't like it. He made you feel an unexplainable way.
He had pestered you all way home, dodging all your questions about him and somehow always managing to turn the conversation around on you. Only for him to disappear once the car parked outside your apartment.
"He was practically fucking you with his eyes the whole time", he said as he leaned back against the leather of the passenger seat. You roll your eyes, "he wasn't".
Taehyun snorts, "how would you know, you kept your eyes shut the majority of it". Your hands grip the steering wheel tighter, "what's it to you anyway?".
He looks you up and down as he grins, "nothing really". You sigh, "then why bring it up in the first place", you mumble as you keep your eyes on the road ahead. Taehyun doesn't answer.
The warm water did little to ease the tension in your muscles and you turned the shower off and got out. Wrapping a towel around your body you begin running your hands through your wet hair.
A cool sensation against your neck has you spinning around only to be met with nothing but air. You frown as you turn back to the mirror, grabbing the blow dryer as you plug it in.
A cold hand on your shoulder makes you jump and you turn around to come face to face with Taehyun. "What the fuck!" you shriek as you pull the towel closer around yourself.
"Just because you can appear at your own will doesn't give you the right to invade my privacy", you retort as you cross your arms over your chest tightly.
A smirk creeps its way up on his face, "this is the least I've invaded your privacy so far", he says as he takes a step toward you. "You think?" you snap back.
Taehyun tilts his head to the side before vanishing. His voice echoes through your mind, "would you rather I stay up here?". The sensation has your head pounding and you press a palm against your forehead. "No, get out", you order and to your surprise he complies.
A fragment of a second later he's in front of you again, a smirk on his face. He reaches a pale hand up to trace your jawline and neck. His fingers are cold as they leave a trail of goosebumps in their wake.
"What are you.."
"I like you".
His words have your eyes widening but Taehyun's expression is indifferent. "What?" Your tone does little to hide your disbelief.
Taehyun's thumb grazes your bottom lip, and you let him. Why? you didn't have an answer. "I said I like you", he repeats as his hand falls back to his side.
You shake your head, "you don't, you're confused, it's normal your soul is in a transitional state". He chuckles, "you think you got me all figured out huh?". You frown, "what are you implying?".
He takes a step closer, cold chest almost touching your warm one. "I'm...drawn to you", he speaks slowly, as if choosing his words carefully. You sigh, "because I'm the first person you've interacted with since your death, it'll pass", you assure.
"Really?" he asks, a playful grin on his face. "What am I to do until then?" his lips form into a slight pout. You were sure he could hear your heart literally pounding out of your chest.
The sharp ring of your doorbell has him gone in a second. You breathe out a heavy sigh of relief. Remembering that you had ordered takeout before your shower quickly has your mind shifting. Pulling on a robe you make your way to the door as you retrieve your food. Sitting down on the sofa, you pull out your phone to text Yeonjun.
"Come over tonight."
The bed squeaks in rhythm to the deep thrusts of your boyfriend as he pounds you into the mattress. Bare legs wrapped around his waist your long nails claw at his back.
His hand grips onto the headboard as the other gently caresses your cheek. "Look so fuckin' gorgeous tonight, babe", he groans as his face contorts into one of pleasure.
Your lips part in a soft moan as your back arches off the bed. Sex with Yeonjun was bliss. It always seemed to get your mind off things and relax you.
His head dips down to kiss and suck at your neck and your eyes flutter closed in pleasure. When they open again your heart almost stops as you find Taehyun's eyes staring right back at your own.
Hands in his pockets he leans against the wall as he looks at you. Only you, it's as if he's not even registering that Yeonjun is present. His gaze moves from your fucked out face, down your naked body. It stops at your core, as Yeonjun's cock slides in and out of your throbbing cunt. He stares shamelessly, a small smirk tugging at his lips.
Your grip on your boyfriends hair grow painfully harsh earning a soft groan from Yeonjun, "need more?", he asks. You nod, your eyes locked with Taehyun's as you speak, "yes, need it so bad".
The night Taehyun had watched you get fucked out by your boyfriend had been the last time you saw him. Four days had passed without as much as a peep from him.
You were relieved, ready to put it all behind you. Writing it off as a weird hallucination of sort. It must've all been in your head. Though a part of you, a very small part, felt weird.
It wasn't that you missed him, you thought. But something was gnawing away at you every moment spent without even feeling the presence of his soul, tugging at your chest.
You had even for a split moment considered to bring out your supplies and summon him yourself. Thought you quickly discarded the idea again.
Your days were slow, uneventful and almost boring. Yeonjun was away on a business trip and you had spent the past nights alone in your dark bedroom. He wouldn't be home for another three days, you groaned at the thought.
Scrolling mindlessly on your phone as the late evening turns into early night. You didn't have any clients tomorrow so you didn't see an issue with staying up.
By 2am your eyes finally began to feel heavy. Putting your phone away you pulled the blanket over yourself as you got comfortable. You had almost drifted off into a deep sleep when the light squeak of the floorboards made your eyes snap open.
Sitting up, you pulled the covers closer to your chest as you squinted in the darkness. It was quiet, but you knew that you weren't alone. The tugging sensation in your chest had returned, he had returned.
"Taehyun..?" your voice is barely above a whisper but a soft hum coming from somewhere in the room confirms your suspicions. Carefully reaching over, you flick on the lamp on the bedside table.
The room is immediately cast in a dim light as Taehyun's figure comes into vision. He's standing exactly where he had been, four days ago.
Was it bad that you were relieved to see him? Probably. Yet you couldn't hide the smile etching its way to your face.
Something was different about him, you couldn't pin point it until your gaze met his. Dark eyes were piercing yours much like they had the first time you met, but this time they held something else, lust.
You barely have time to blink and he's by your side. Standing next to the bed he towers over you from where you're sitting. Cold fingers slide under your chin as he turns your face up.
Your lips part in surprise as your eyes widen, "T-Taehyun..?". His thumb pulls at your bottom lip before he lets it go. He lets out a frustrated sigh as he takes a few steps back.
Left confused you shift awkwardly on the bed. "What's going on...?", you whisper, he doesn't reply. It's strange, you hadn't seen or heard from him for four days and now, he just shows up acting all strange without even speaking to you.
"Listen Taehyun, I..", your words get stuck in your throat as he suddenly appears in front of you. Your back is pushed against the headboard as Taehyun cages you against it. Arms on either side of your head, his hands grip the headboard tightly. His knees hit the soft mattress as he straddles you.
"You what?", he asks, his voice is low, rumbling from deep in his chest. You swallow, "I...uhm...I...", your eyes shift from his own to his lips. Your tongue subconsciously darts out to wet your lips as your gaze travels back up to his eyes.
Taehyun lets out a frustrated groan as he mumbles something under his breath. You can't make the words out and before you know it his lips are on yours.
Your eyes widen but only for a moment before they flutter closed. His lips are cool against yours, but it's not unpleasant. The kiss is tender but it's full of desire. A sense of longing and yearning emits from him as his lips move softly against yours.
Though Taehyun is quick to pull back, he studies your face for a reaction. You bite your bottom lip softly as your gaze falls on his lips. "One more", he breathes out before crashing his lips against yours once again.
This time he doesn't hold back as his tongue forces its way inside your mouth. You happily comply as your lips part, your hands find their way to his hair, tugging softly at the ends.
Teeth clash together as Taehyun presses himself impossibly closer to you. His hands move from the headboard to gently cup your cheeks. His touch is electrifying.
But is it right? Your mind goes to Yeonjun, your boyfriend. You had a boyfriend for christ's sake, yet here you are making out with...with a ghost.
Could it count as cheating if he wasn't even a real person? You didn't know, and in that moment you couldn't bring yourself to care.
Taehyun is first to pull away as you chase after his lips, a soft whine emitting at the loss of him. He smirks, "so eager", he coos as his thumb massages your saliva coated lips.
His other hand finds the end of your blanket as he pulls it down. You're wearing nothing but your satin nightgown, it barely reaches your upper thighs. Perked nipples prominent through the thin fabric.
"Don't tell me you've been getting this dolled up every night", he mumbles as cold fingers trail along your collarbone, down the centre of your chest.
You shiver as you squirm under him, "you wear this for him too?", he glances up toward you. You bite your lip as you shake your head no. You usually wore something more comfortable to bed, but the past four days had been affecting you greatly. Perhaps it was the absence of your boyfriend, or maybe it was the absence of the soul you had grown so accustomed to in such a short time.
Taehyun hums in approval as he pushes the thin gown over your hips, revealing the white lace concealing your aching core from him. Index finger finds the hem of your panties as he pulls it up, "and these?".
Your face flushes all shades of red as your eyes meet his, "they're new..", you whisper. Taehyun lets go of the fabric wrapped around his finger, it snaps back against your skin.
"A shame for them to get ruined on their first wear", he says as he presses his thumb against your clothed clit. A soft gasp escapes your lips as your thighs twitch slightly. "But you don't mind do you, angel?"
The nickname catches you off guard, and it makes your cunt clench around nothing. His other hand rubs small circles on your hip as his fingers on your clit move your panties to the side.
"Knew you'd be fucking perfect", he slides two fingers inside of you without much struggle and you arch off the bed with a whimper. The hand on your hip holds you back down against the mattress as Taehyun watches his fingers slide in and out of your dripping pussy.
"That boyfriend of yours aint enough?" he tilts his head as he looks at you, your lips parted as soft moans spill from your mouth. "Greedy fucking bitch", his fingers curl inside of you making you cry out in pleasure, "one guy aint enough for you?"
You shake your head, "n...need you", you whimper. Taehyun hums softly, "you will". He retracts his fingers making you whine at the loss of contact, "let me taste you first, dollface".
His fingers are quickly replaced by his soft breath as he inhales the scent of you. "Smell like fucking heaven, angel", he groans, "bet you taste like it too".
Your thighs clench around his head as he presses his tongue flat against your clit. Hands in his hair, you force his face closer to your throbbing cunt. Soft whines and moans leave your lips and when he inserts his tongue you swear you see stars.
Air wasn't a necessity for Taehyun and he used it to his advantage as he devoures your cunt like it was his last meal, ironically enough it could've been.
Cold hands caresses your plush thighs as they tremble under his ministrations. A familiar feeling fills your stomach as your climax approaches. Taehyun looks up from between your legs and you swear that the way he looked at you almost made you orgasm on the spot.
"Gonna give me a taste of your heaven, angel?"
You whimper as your orgasm cruises through you, Taehyun is quick to greedily lick and feast on your high, his nose stimulating your clit as he does in an almost taunting way.
Once your legs stop trembling he finally sits up, wiping his face with the back of his hand. You're left a panting mess as you lock eyes with him. "Can you give me one more, dollface?" he asks as one of his hands palms himself through his jeans. You eagerly nod.
His smirk is the last thing you see before he grabs you by your thighs, pulling you down so that you lay flat on your back. Propping himself up on one arm Taehyun leans over you, fingers brushing a strand of hair out of your face as the tip of his cock prods at your cunt.
He leans down to connect your lips with his as he slides himself inside. Thick cock stretching you out in a blissful way, you moan against his lips.
"Greedy fucking pussy sucking me in like it's been starved", he says as his lips move down your neck and collarbone. He moves slowly, filling you out with each thrust. "Bet it has", he says as he teeth graze the flesh of your breast.
"Your boyfriend is sloppy", he grunts as he thrusts back inside of you, "doesn't know that he's got heaven right in front of him". His mouth finds your nipple through the thin material of your nightgown, twisting and pulling it between his teeth.
You whimper and feel yourself clench around him, pulling a groan from Taehyun as he sucks marks onto your chest and neck. One of his hands travels down your thighs, pushing it up, allowing him to sink deeper into you as you both moan in union.
"Shit angel, you were made for me", he breathes out as your lips find each other in a messy exchange of kisses. Pulling away for a short moment, his dark lustful eyes pierce yours, "still think I'm not real, angel?", he taunts as he moves in and out of you slowly.
"Just shut up and kiss me", you moan as you pull his lips back down on yours again. You can feel his smirk against your lips as he snaps his hips against yours, earning a loud cry from you.
Your breath grows short and ragged as you feel your second orgasm of the night approach. Taehyun's thumb finds your abused clit as he rubs it teasingly. "Gonna cum for me a second time, angel?"
Your cunt throbs around him as you release all over his cock, hands pulling at his hair as a soft whimper escapes your lips. Taehyun's teeth graze your skin as he buries his face in your neck, a low groan leaving his lips as he finishes deep inside of you.
The sensation is unlike anything you've felt with anyone before, not even with Yeonjun. Taehyun rests his forehead against your as he waits for you to catch your breath, the perks of being dead you suppose.
His gaze remains lustful as he studies your face but there's something else too. The back of his hand gently caresses your cheek as he speaks, "my room, on the desk, top drawer to the right, there's a blue USB stick, take it".
His words confuse you, but he doesn't let you overthink it as he reconnects your lips in a soft kiss.
When you wake up the next morning Taehyun is gone. At first you think that the previous night might've just been a feverish dream, but the mess that were your bedsheets and your missing panties told you otherwise.
A warm shower later you're sat by the TV. Taehyun's words from the night before still ringing in your ears. "USB stick, desk, top right drawer", what did significance did the small device hold? There was only one way to find out.
You still knew the way to Mrs. Kang's apartment, she greeted you with a smile. After a rather long moment of small talk you find yourself in Taehyun's room.
Heading straight for his desk you pull out the top drawer to the right. And just like he said there it was, a small blue USB stick, you take it.
When you arrive back home you rush to your computer, as you plug it in a small set of files pop up. Curious you click the first one, at first it's dark, you frown, was it broken?
Then an image floods the screen, no a video, your eyes widen, it's a dash cam. More specifically it's the dash cam of the car that had taken Taehyun's life.
Anxiously you skip ahead, it's not until a few days later when the event actually takes place. Taehyun passes by the front of the car as he makes his way to the passenger seat.
While in the car you can only make out their voices, the engine roars to life as the car starts moving. They drive for a good thirty minutes, their conversation shifting between ordinary subjects.
It's not until they make it out on the highway that things start going wrong.
"Hey, slow down", Taehyun says. The car is visibly moving faster than the ones surrounding them. "I'm trying!" his friend then exclaims, his voice slightly panicked.
"What the fuck do you mean? Just slow down!", Taehyun's voice rises, and his friend curses under his breath. "I fucking told you I'm trying, it's not working the brakes..."
You close your laptop. You don't want to see what you already know is bound to happen. Though it's clear that someone messed with the car beforehand.
Taking a deep breath you reopen your laptop, clicking off the file you go back in time. It takes you a couple of hours to go through all the footage but then you find it.
Almost five days earlier, a man you don't recognise comes into frame. He walks around the car a few times, slowly, cautiously as he scans the area.
Then he gets inside, so he had a key? You don't exactly know what he's doing but you know enough to be certain that he's not fixing the oil. After a mere five minutes he exits the car and leaves.
That's what Taehyun wanted you to see. It wasn't a car accident, it was murder. And the person guilty was yet to be caught. It would explain why he wasn't able to move on.
You had to get this USB stick in the right hands. And that's exactly what you did.
The footage proved to be crucial evidence directly linking the man to the crime. He had turned out to be a direct family member of Taehyun's friend.
When Mrs Kang found out she was heartbroken. Though she thanked you immensely for finding out the truth behind her son's passing. You continued to visit her regularly after that.
You never saw Taehyun again, but every now and then a warm pull at your chest would remind you of his gratitude toward you and that he was forever indebted to you.
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bowtiepastabitch · 5 months
Text
Historical Analysis: class and injustice in 'The Ressurrectionists' minisode
Alternate title: why we're tempted to be upset with Aziraphale and why that's only halfway fair
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Okay so first off huge thanks to @makewayforbigcrossducks for asking the question (and follow-up questions lol) that brought me to put these thoughts all together into a little history nerd ramble. That question being, Why is Aziraphale so clueless? Obviously, from a plot perspective, we know we need to learn some lessons about human moral dilemmas and injustices. But from a character perspective? A lot of this minisode is about Aziraphale being forced to confront the flaws of heavenly logic. This whole idea that "poverty is ineffable" basically boils down to 'yeah some people are poor, but their souls can be saved just as if not more easily that way, so it's not our problem and they probably deserve it anyway for not working hard enough,' a perspective that persists in many modern religious circles. Aziraphale isn't looking at the human factor here, he's pretty much purely concerned about the dichotomy of good and wicked human behavior and the spiritual consequences thereof, because that's what he's been told to believe. His whole goal is to "show her the error of her ways." He believes, quite wholeheartedly, that he's helping her in the long run.
"the lower you start, the more opportunities you have"
So here's what we're asking ourselves: Why did it take him so bloody long to realize how stupid that is? Sure, he's willing to excuse all kinds of things in the name of ineffability, but if someone in the year of our lord 2023 told me he was just now realizing that homelessness was bad after experiencing the past two centuries, I'd be resisting the urge to get violent even if he WAS played by Michael Sheen.
Historical context: a new type of poverty
Prior to the 19th century (1800s), poverty was a very different animal from what we deal with now. The lowest classes went through a dynamic change leading up to the industrial revolution, with proto-industrialization already moving people into more manufacture-focused tasks and rapid urbanization as a result of increasingly unlivable conditions for rural peasantry. The enclosure of common lands and tennancies by wealthy landowners for the more profitable sheep raising displaced lots of families, and in combination with poor harvests and rising rents, many people were driven to cities to seek out new ways of eeking out a living.
Before this, your ability to eat largely would have depended on the harvest in your local area. This can, for our purposes, be read as: you're really only a miracle away from being able to survive the winter. Juxtapose this, then, with the relatively new conundrum of an unhoused urban poor population. Now if you want to eat, you need money itself, no exceptions, unless you want to steal food. Charity at the time was often just as much harm as good, nearly always tied deeply up in religious attitudes and a stronger desire to proselytize than improve quality of lie. As a young woman, finding work in a city is going to be incredibly difficult, especially if you're not clean and proper enough to present as a housemaid or other service laborer. As such, Elspeth turns to body snatching to try to make a better life for herself and Wee Morag. She's out of options and she knows it.
You know who doesn't know that? Aziraphale.
The rise of capitalism
The biggest piece of the puzzle which Aziraphale is missing here is that he hasn't quite caught onto the concept of capitalism yet. To him, human professions are just silly little tasks, and she should be able to support herself if she just tried. Bookselling, weaving, farming, these are all just things humans do, in his mind. He suggests these things as options because it hasn't occurred to him yet that Elspeth is doing this out of desperation, but he also just doesn't grasp the concept of capital. Crowley does, he thinks it's hilarious, but Aziraphale is just confused as to why these occupations aren't genuine options. Farming in particular, as briefly touched on above, was formerly carried out largely on common land, tennancies, or on family plots, and land-as-capital is an emerging concept in this period of time (previously, landowners acted more like local lords than modern landlords). Aziraphale just isn't picking up on the fact that money itself is the root issue.
Even when he realizes that he fucked up by soup-ifying the corpse, he doesn't offer to give them money but rather to help dig up another body. He still isn't processing the systemic issues at play (poverty) merely what's been immediately presented to him (corpses), and this is, from my perspective, half a result of his tunnel-vision on morality and half of his inability to process this new mode of human suffering.
Half a conclusion and other thoughts
So we bring ourselves back around to the question of Aziraphale's cluelessness. Aziraphale is, as an individual, consistently behind on the times. He likes doing things a certain way and rarely changes his methodology unless someone forces his hand. Even with the best intentions, his ability to help in this minisode is hindered by two points: 1)his continued adherance to heavenly dogma 2)his inability to process the changing nature of human society. His strongest desire at any point is to ensure that good is carried out, an objective good as defined by heavenly values, and while I think it's one of his biggest character hangups, I also can't totally blame him for clinging to the only identity given to him or for worrying about something that is, as an ethereal being, a very real concern. Unfortunately, he also lacks an understanding of the actual human needs that present themselves. Where Elspeth knows that what she needs is money, Aziraphale doesn't seem to process that money is the only solution to the immediate problem. This is in part probably because a century prior the needs of the poor were much simpler, and thus miraculous assistance would never have interfered with 'the virtues of poverty'. (You can make someone's crops grow, and they'll eat well, but giving someone money actually changes their economic status.) Thus, his actions in this episode illustrate the intersection of heavenly guidelines with a weak understanding of modern structures.
This especially makes sense with his response to being told to give her money. Our angel is many things, but I would never peg him as having any attachment to his money. He's not hesitant because he doesn't want to part with it, he's hesitant because he's still scared it's the wrong thing to do in this scenario. He really is trying to be good and helpful. So yes, we're justifiably pretty miffed to see him so blatantly unaware and damaging. He definitely holds a lot of responsibility for the genuine tragedy of this minisode, and I think Crowley pointing out that it's 'different when you knew them' is an extremely important moment for Aziraphale's relationship with humanity. Up until now, he's done a pretty good job insulating himself from the capacity of humans for nastiness, his seeming naivity at the Bastille being case in point.
In the end, I think Aziraphale's role in this minisode is incredibly complex, especially within its historical context. He's obstinate and clueless but also deeply concerned with spiritual wellbeing (which is, to Aziraphale, simply wellbeing) and doing the right thing to be helpful. While it's easy to allow tiny Crowley (my beloved) to eclipse the tragic nature and moral complexity of this minisode, I think in the end it's just as important to long-term character development as 'A Companion to Owls'. We saw him make the right choice with Job's children, and now we see him make the wrong choice. And that's a thing people do sometimes, a thing humans do.
~~~
also tagging @ineffabildaddy, @kimberellaroo, and @raining-stars-somewhere-else whose comments on the original post were invaluable in helping me organize my thoughts and feelings about this topic. They also provided great insight that, in my opinion, is worth going and reading for yourself, even if it didn't factor into my final analysis/judgement.
If I missed anything or you have additional thoughts, please please share!!! <3
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generalsmemories · 7 months
Note
hiii for your event (CONGRATS BY THE WAY!!!) I'd like to request
"hey, no crying... I thought we said we wouldn't cry" with jing yuan please and thank you
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Warmth of the living
✧ jing yuan x gn!reader
✧ prompts used: "hey, no crying... I thought we said we wouldn't cry" || 1k event
✧ content: established relationship, hurt/comfort, spoilers for xianzhou storyline, we are still stuck in the jing yuan recovery era after phantylia fight
✧ a/n: istg if this man goes into the next patch half beat up and ready to intervene i'm actually sentencing him to a house arrest cause GODDAMN. in a way this can be seen as an alt version of my other fic 48 hours tbh. i just can't imagine any other scenario where that sentence specifically is used by itself than the recent events - so sorry for the same sorta events, i'll make sure it's the last one though!
NOT BETA-READ CAUSE I LITERALLY WROTE THIS ALL IN 30 MINUTES THE MOMENT I GOT SOME MOTIVATION FOR IT HAHA
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"Lady Bailu is taking care of him as we speak, [Name]. Please excercise some patience and believe in her - she's not titled the best healer of Luofu for no reason," Fu Xuan tries to comfort as you pace back and forth at the Seat of Divine Foresight - a hand massaging her temples as she looks towards the mountains of unopened scrolls needing to be read through within the day, "... If it helps, I've also foreseen that he won't be in any immediate danger. He's fine and he's going to recover."
That diviner noticed that her assurance seemed to ease you to the point you let out a long shaky exhale before sitting down at one of the steps leading to the grand desk, combing a hand through your hair for the nth time, "You haven't rested either with helping both me and Qingzu arrange documents and various meetings with the Six Charioteers. Why don't you try to take a walk outside the Exalting Sanctum?" Fu Xuan suggests, but you merely shake your head with a chuckle.
"If I leave you'll be more overwhelmed than you already are. Qingzu is even starting to pity you, lady Fu Xuan," you start, taking a deep breath in before standing up again, "Besides, if I leave the Seat, I just know I'll go running to where he is, I don't think that would help any of us now, would it?" you say with a light-hearted chuckle.
Fu Xuan didn't comment on the fact that your voice was trembling slightly as you spoke.
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You can visit the general now. Please bring me some tuskir wraps, I'm hungry.
The message was sent as you had just placed a plate of food in front of Yanqing, almost dropping the contents entirely over the table if the young lieutenant didn't notice the grip you had on it falter and catching it in time, "Woah- [Name] I was looking forward to eating your food today! What would I do if you just suddenly do something like... that..." Yanqing's words died down when he saw your widened eyes, but a quick look at the sender of the message made him let out a relived sigh, only leaning back and picking up his chopsticks, "Why not visit the general instead of staring at your screen like that? It's not like you will be able to be able to teleport yourself to his location by doing that."
Yanqing's words made you snap out of your surprise, rushing towards the entrance, "Lock up after me! And give-"
"Mimi her food, I know! Just go!"
You knew that your worry was not needed. You knew that no matter how much you worried and that no matter how many times you wished for things to go differently that day that none of it would happen, "What happens and what has happened will inevitably stay like that no matter how much you try to alter it. And if my life can ensure that the rest of Luofu can stay safe then that is ultimately the best outcome in the long run, don't you agree, dear?" is what Jing Yuan had told you after the both of you had gone through his initial plan to handle the crisis.
You knew that he was right, which was why you bit your tongue and confirmed his plan. As the general of Luofu and as an official handling the lives of the people - you both knew that his plan, although reckless would yield the best results instead of sacrificing lives where it was not needed.
You knew.
But as you stand before him in person and get a thorough look at him you can't help but wish things had gone differently that day when he came to you with a final plan - a final play.
You wished that you had let your selfish mind overtake your logical mind for a second and beg him to come up with something else. Anything that didn't involve setting himself in danger.
But you didn't, and now you're seeing the very consequences of not doing so in front of you.
His skin is paler than usual, there's bandages wrapped around his torso, his forearms and even a few of his fingers. The usual spark in his eyes are dimmed slighty. There's an air of exhaustion around him, like he's trying his best to stay awake even though he desperately wants to sleep, but his smile is still the same.
The same reassuring, convinning and gentle smile he gives you when you greet him at the Seat of Divine Foresight, when you return home after work and he's home before you and when you run into each other on the streets of Luofu. And yet you can't find yourself to smile back, your fingers tightly twisting the material of your garments while you struggle to let out a word, a sound or anything at all to even try to match his own effort to reach out to you.
But you can't, you can't bring yourself to speak, and every time you open your mouth you can only make a tiny sound that sounds like a wheeze. But before you can try to recollect yourself, your eyes widen when Jing Yuan forces himself to sit in an upright position, snapping back to reality when you hear his quiet grunt of pain.
However you're not able to tell him to lay back down again (as Bailu had instructed he does) before he grabs a hold of your hands and pulls you into his arms with quiet coos and a low chuckle, "No crying... I thought we said we wouldn't cry over things like this?" he whispers, pulling slightly back to instead cup your cheeks, thumbs caressing the few tears that had managed to fall down from your eyes with a gentle gaze.
It tears you utterly apart how your wellbeing is still his priority than his own recovery.
"That... was a different... situation," you manage to squeeze out, bringing your hands up to rub the tears away yourself.
You didn't know when the tears began to form, nor when they began to fall.
"I know I'll lose you one day to the mara, as much as you're aware that you might lose me to it as well - and that's what we promised not to cry over! We never agreed to this sort of situation!" you croak out, trying your best to stop the tears from flowing. You know it's a silly comparison - Jing Yuan would much rather die out in the battlefield protecting the Luofu and the alliance than fall victim to the curse. You know, but your selfish self won't accept that outcome - even though you know such an outcome is the best for the general of Luofu.
"I agreed to this plan of yours, yes. I also agreed knowing that you're essentially putting your own life at risk yes, but still!" you sob, raising a closed fist to lightly beat down on his already battered body, "Knowing that you still came back safe just made every possible scenario of things that could go wrong and knowing they didn't and that you're here right now- scolding me of all things for crying in relief just makes this seem more surreal so you out of everyone can't fault me for actually crying because I was preparing a starskiff for the soul-soothing ceremony in the background for aeons sake," you rasp out, ending the whole rant with a saddened chuckle.
Jing Yuan merely laughs in return, one arm wrapping around your waist while his free hand pushes your head into his chest while gently patting your head, his body shaking with his soft chuckles when he feels your tears wet his garments again, "I'm fine dear, I just need to be in bedrest for a while. I'm not leaving anytime soon, so stop those tears, okay? You know I can't handle it when you cry," he whispers, bending his head down slightly to kiss the crown of your head softly.
"Just let me cry this one out, I don't think I've cried for a good couple of years," you murmur, burying yourself further into his chest, the arms you have wrapped around him squeezing a tiny bit - making Jing Yuan let out a small yelp of surprise from the force.
He's warm, you notice. His heart is beating and you can feel his chest rise up and down with every breath he takes. You can feel his fingers run through your head, you can hear the his nonchalant commets of his observations of the room in the commission amidst the otherwise silent room. And you can feel his whole body when he shuffles a bit to rest his back to the wall while he himself tries to squeeze you a bit tighter to reassure you.
Everything indicating that he's alive for another day.
And only after that do you finally feel like you can breathe again.
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another request that had the same scenario in it!
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gojoidyll · 28 days
Note
Teaching Aventurine how to dance... 😫👀
Love this so much anon!! 😫😫 cause like
ahhh, just imagine teaching aventurine how to dance, it's making me giggle and kick my feet. Like, I can imagine him being somewhat shy at first because it's you and he likes you (but doesn't want to admit it) but then gradually becomes confident and taking a hold on the situation once he has the steps down (mainly because he doesn't want you to notice how easily you are able to fluster him without even trying) 😳👀
Imagine that Aventurine must attend a banquet of some sort for the IPC but it requires him to dance with a few refined ladies that will be attending.
"Now place your hand on my waist like this."
Which was how he found himself holding you against himself. The palm of his hand gently cradling your own hand. While his other hand fell to your waist and your free hand finding purchase onto his shoulder.
"Since you'll be the one leading, you'll want to move your feet like this. Remember not to go too fast or you'll be dragging your partner around like a ragdoll. But don't go too slow either or your partner will end up stepping on your toes."
He could feel the heat radiate off of you as you gave him gentle instruction on how to move across the floor to the beats and tones of the music playing.
"Do you know the steps now?"
Aventurine nodded. He couldn't trust his words right now. Not with the way you were pressed against him.
"Want to try leading?"
Another nod.
You found it unusual at how silent he was being. No quips or remarks. Just pure focus. When he originally asked you to teach him how to dance, you thought he was joking. Though, as he held you close and moved you slowly throughout the song that was playing, you were glad that it wasn't a joke and that he was taking this seriously.
"You're doing so well!"
He couldn't stop the blush that started to form on his cheeks. He knew he had to do something quick or you would start to notice his bluff of concentration, "well, it helps that I have such a wonderful instructor," he said with ease as he dipped you. His hand moving to your lower back as he held you.
You were surprised that he did such a move, but impressed nonetheless when he went to pull you back up with such ease and within tune of the song no less!
And to be completely honest, even though you were teaching him how to dance, you were glad that his first dance was with you even if that does sound selfish on your part. (Little did you know, however, he felt the same.)
"That reminds me, my dear instructor?"
He made a sudden movement, his arm moving to encircle your lower back and pull you tight against him. Your noses were barely grazing each other, your breaths mixing together.
"The invitation to the banquet says I can bring a plus one, so how about it instructor, care to join me?"
"But what of all those rich young ladies waiting to dance with the ever so handsome, blonde gambler," you said ever the dramatic, your lips forming a little grin as you did so.
He chuckled lightly, "now that I know how to properly dance - I believe I want my lovely instructor to be my one and only dance partner."
Aventurine was glad he was able to calm his beating heart and actually conquer the furious blush that coated his cheeks. Because you may be the one teaching him how to dance, but he plans to be the lead from here on out.
Besides, it frustrates him how you are able to fluster him so easily without even trying. Just once he wants to see you become a stuttering mess and not the other way around. (And who knows, maybe he can get a few more dance lessons while he was at it too.)
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shadowandlightt · 3 months
Text
Of Nightmares and Memories /three/ Azriel x reader
Series Warnings: Kidnapping. Mistreatment. Cursing. Pining. Violence. Depression. Talks of suicide. Eventual smut
Part One Part Two
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The night of Calanmai came. You were buzzing with energy. You dressed in old clothes, and wrapped yourself in Lucien’s cloak, trying to hide your scent as best as possible. To anyone else out there, it would look like you belonged to the fox. That you were his and no one else’s. Which would also keep you safe from anyone creeping a little too close. 
“Stay with me, do you understand?” Lucien questioned. 
“I know, I know.”
The beat of the drums outside grows louder and louder. You could feel them in your soul, begging you to run out and join the fun. You ached with anticipation. You were going to leave this dreaded house and finally see your brother again. 
You just wanted to lay eyes on him and know that he was still in there somewhere, and wasn’t the monster everyone believed him to be. Certainly he was doing what he had to do to survive? Certainly your sweet caring brother was still in there, buried deep within? 
“Come, we don’t have much time,” Lucien said, leading you out of your rooms. 
You shiver against the cool night. Though you weren’t sure if it was the cold that was making you shiver, or the thought of seeing him again. You couldn’t tell him who you were, couldn’t allow him to realize you were still alive. 
He would destroy the spring court and with it any hopes of beating Amerantha at her own game. If Feyre could just admit that she was in love with Tamlin, which somehow you had a feeling she was slowly falling for the Lord of Spring, everything would change. Maybe you could go home again. 
You longed for home. Longed for Valaris, and the group of fae that you called family. You longed for Cassian and Mor constantly fighting and joking. You longed for Amren and her grumpy nature. And Azriel…your Az. The person who seemed to understand you more than anyone else in the world. You longed for him most of all.  He was so quiet and understanding, and so beautiful in every possible way. You wished you would have told him. But you were still just a child. 
You were still so young when Tamlin and his family took you. Barely even eighteen, but you aged slower somehow, so while you were of age, you barely looked sixteen. So small and young. So much of your life stripped away from you. 
You feel Rhys before you spot him. You feel the night rippling off of him, calling your own powers out to play. The headache slowly sets in at the base of your skull as you try to reign in your own shadows and darkness. 
He’s talking to Feyre, and for a moment you smile, because you could see them together in another life. Perhaps if she’d been born a Fae. Perhaps if Rhys needed to be the one to break Amerantha’s curse, and not Tamlin. Because you hated the idea of Tamlin getting to be happy with Feyre once this was all said and done. You hated the fact that she would live out her few good years with that beast. 
“What do we have here?” His silky voice questioned, violet eyes looking you over, “Already have a play thing, Lucien?” 
“Not quite,” I spoke up, daring him to recognize me from beneath the glamor.
you could feel his mental claws scratching against my shields, looking for a way in. He would not find one, of course. Having been trained to block him out since you were old enough to understand the concept.
His eyes narrowed at you, taking a step closer towards you. Meanwhile, Lucien hissed at you to stay put while he dragged Feyre back to the manor house, leaving you alone with Rhys. You ached to tell him, but you couldn’t. If you told him you’d be dead before the next moon rise. 
“Who are you?” 
You bite back the bile that rises in your throat, “Lucien’s…friend.”
“No, you aren’t.”
You only smirk and try to force your way into his head again, sweat starting to bead on your forehead. 
“If you were his friend, you wouldn’t be full of faebane.”
“Maybe I choose this.”
“No, I don’t think you do,” he tisks, “Poor little lamb, stuck in spring.”
“I’m far from a little lamb,” You hiss back, hating that you sound and feel weak. 
You are weak, in every way that matters now, you’re weak. And Rhys can’t do anything to help you. He can’t take you away from here, he can’t save you. Because he can’t even save himself. He’s stuck under Amerantha’s thumb, and there’s nothing that can be done about it. Your only hope is that poor human girl to actually fall in love with Tamlin. What a fate that would be. 
Lucien returns, dropping his arm around your shoulders and pulling you close. You had to do something, anything to try to let him know you were alive. That you were here. You were right there, just silently begging for him to notice you. So you did the only thing you could think of and flung out what little power you had left. You scratched down his mental shields, already feeling sweat beading on your forehead. 
At this point he’d turned his back, ready to move away from the boring conversation. But your little outburst caused him to spin back around and stalk towards you. You thought he might go for your throat, might kill you right there for daring to do anything to him but he didn’t. 
“I could kill you right where you stand,” He hisses at you, “Without breaking a sweat.”
“Ah, but you’d have to catch me first,” you struggle to say from the strain of the faebane, “I hear I’m like the wind.”
His eyes widen, hands reaching for you, before Lucien took hold of you and dragged you away. You were back in the manor house before you could even think. Lucien started to yell at you, drowning out the sound of the drums outside, which were growing louder and louder. The rite would start soon, Lucien would be needed.
“What did you say to him?” He demands. 
“Nothing, you heard me.”
“No, that meant something!” 
“Just something I used to say as a child,” You shake your head, “I’m going to bed. Have fun.”
You wave him off as you go. You felt heavy and tired. But somehow so invigorated. Your brother was still your brother, you knew that. Deep down he was still Rhys, and not the monster everyone believed him to be. Deep down, he was still there, just waiting to come back out like everyone else. 
That night you dreamt of your wings. Flying over Valaris with Rhys and your mother. Laughing with Cas and Az at the House of Wind. You dreamt about everything, and at the same time nothing. 
“I’m going to get you, little star!” Rhys laughed from behind you as you ran away from him. 
“You’ll have to catch me first!” You yell, jumping off of the ledge, “I’m like the wind!” 
The air catches your wings and pulls you along. You smile and giggle as you pivot to avoid Rhys again. The wind whips through your hair as you fly, you don’t bother trying to stop it. It only makes you laugh harder.  You feel so free as you fly higher and higher over the city. You wonder for a second if they can hear you laughing down in the Rainbow. 
You’d have to stop back down there today, you wanted to listen to the music some more. Maybe purchase a painting or two for your rooms. Maybe you could convince Cas or Az to come with you. 
Arms reach around you, causing you to shriek. Rhys’ laugh filled your ears and you relaxed into his arms. It was rare to have moments like this now. Your father kept him so busy, much to yours and your mother’s dismay. 
He pulls you in close and laughs as you nudge him with your elbow, “I love you, little star,” He whispers to you above the wind. 
“I love you too, Rhys.”
When you wake the following morning, you have tears in your eyes. Your pillow is wet with them. You do not get out of bed that day.
Tag List
@historygeekqueen @wallacewillow0773638 @sstrohma @saltedcofeesotch @hnyclover @thelov3lybookworm @queerqueenlynn
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imasoftieforbarb · 6 months
Note
hey there! you kinda have seen me already by freaking out about Floyd he’s actually is what I wanted to request!
if it’s possible, could you write a little fic on how reader could be when they (pronouns are your opinion) found out about floyd being captured? OR HEAR ME OUT PLS—
reader is Floyd‘s partner (girlfriend/boyfriend, again your opinion) BUT was captured WITH him, bc all the time I was watching the movie I imagined them being with Floyd since young and bc of cliché drama I love *cries*
again it’s your option on doing it or not !!
I LOVE THIS IDEA! Okokokokok
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You were childhood best friends- and when he joined the band? You became their manager!
You wanted to support him and you didn’t want to interrupt the whole boys only band so you went with next best thing!
After the failed show you try to keep everyone from leaving
JD tells you to move, and shoves you out the way when you try to block the door
Clay just shakes his head and leaves
Spruce lays a hand on your shoulder and whispers “look after them for me”
At first Floyd tries to leave without you- after giving Branch his vest, he asks you to look after him
You nodded- but the minute he was out of sight you started crying
“What are you waiting for girl? Go get him!”
Grandma tells you she’ll be fine looking after branch on her own so you run off after Floyd
“FLOYD! FLOYD WAIT!” You shouted, seeing his figure turn around, his eyes widening when he saw you running towards him.
“Y/n? What are you doing? I thought you were gonna look after Branch”- he started to say before he saw your tears
“Im not gonna watch the boy I have loves since who knows when walk out the door without him knowing how I feel” you panted taking his hand in yours and meeting his eyes shyly “we could be so good together, we can make this last forever!”
Floyd blinked a few times before laughing slightly “wow! I never thought that you’d like me- I mean I’m not the heart throb or the fun one”
You interrupted “I don’t like them! I like you! A lot”
“I like you a lot too-you sure you wanna come with me?”
You nodded and he grinned, intertwining your fingers and starting to walk away from the pod together, hand in hand as you talked about the future
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Ok now- I’m gonna mix ideas here
Let’s say when he got captured you were still with him but not present at the time
So when you got back to the pod you and your long term boyfriend had made to see it wrecked with big foot prints leading away from it
You immediately assumed he’d been eaten by a Burgan
Absolutely heartbroken you fixed the pod back up on your own and fell into a grieving depression
Everywhere you looked you saw memories of him
And then far into the future one day- you get a letter
Supposedly from your dead boyfriend!
You- despite thinking that he was dead- were desperate to see him again, and if that lead to your death then so be it!
You got in your catterbug van called Chloe and head straight for the ‘mount rageous’ that the letter had specified
Once you got to the place this “Velvet and Veneer” we’re singing at you snuck in and noticed the dressing room door open a smidge
You peaked in slightly and felt your eyes water
There he was- Floyd was alive! You couldn’t believe it- you took a few steps back to grasp what you were seeing before a bumping into something.
You looked up and Veneer looked down at you before snatching you up and laughing slightly
“Wow! Another troll? I wonder which one you are? Either way- more talent for us I suppose!” Veneer muttered before entering the dressing room
Floyd looked up from his crossed legs as one of his captors Veneer walked into the room with something in his hand
He had been thinking of you- he always thought about you- between the torture of having his talent drained he dreamed of being back in your shared pod- in your arms
He startled from his thoughts as another diamond perfume bottle was slammed down onto the counter next to him, and felt his heart drop and eyes water when he noticed who was in it
Floyd waited for veneer to leave the room- probably to go get velvet to tell her the good news of having another troll to drain before standing up and pressing his hands to the wall of his prison
“Y-Y/n? Is- is that you?”
You nodded, already crying your eyes out just from looking at him
“What are you doing here? You shouldn’t have come- they’re gonna drain you-“
He stopped when he noticed your tears streaming down your face and had a déjà-vu moment of when you first told him you liked him
“I thought you were dead”
You whispered, dropping to your knees-
“There’s no way I would pass up a way to see you- I love you!” You pressed your hands against the diamond as well and he felt his eyes well with tears
“I love you too-“
Velvet came storming into the room and cackled when she saw your face fill with fear
“Oh- you are gonna be mine!” She said grasping the bottle and starting to walk back out
“NO!” Floyd shouted “not her, drain me first-“
Velvet sneered slightly
“Seeing as you’ve said that- no, I’m gonna drain her, veneer can have you. I want a newer talent”
She left the dressing room and the door slammed shut on Floyd- his tears finally falling
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ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ
AAAAAA- should I do a part 2 taking place during the family harmony at the end of the movie? Let me know what you think!
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hotvintagepoll · 22 days
Text
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Propaganda
Machiko Kyō (Rashomon, Floating Weeds, Older Brother Younger Sister)— Considered an early sex symbol in Japanese cinema. Also just an ethereal beauty who can also go feral/unhinged in a glorious way.
Judy Garland (Meet Me In St. Louis, A Star is Born, Summer Stock)— Judy is the GOAT when it comes to classic movie musicals. The voice of an angel who deserved so much better than she got. She can sing she can dance she can act she's a triple threat. Though she had a turbulent personal life (her treatment as a child star by the studio system makes me mad as hell like Louis b Mayer fight me ((she was made to believe that she was physically unattractive by the constant criticism of film executives who made her feel ugly and who manipulated her onscreen appearance by capping her teeth and using discs in her nose to change its shape and Mayer called her "my little hunchback" like imagine hearing that as a child and not having damage)) she always goddamn delivered on screen and in any performance she gave. She began in vaudeville performing with her sisters and was signed to MGM at 13. Starting out in supporting parts especially paired with mickey Rooney in a bunch of films (she's the best part tbh) she eventually transferred to the lead role. She is best known for her starring role in movie musicals like the iconic Wizard of Oz (somewhere over the rainbow still hits hard and is ranked the top film song of all time), meet me in St. Louis (Judy singing have your self a merry little Christmas brings tears to the eyes she is that powerful), the Harvey girls (she looks like a technicolor dream and sings a catchy af song about trains), Easter parade ( dancing and singing with Fred Astaire), for me and my gal, the pirate, and summer stock ( with pal Gene Kelly who she helped when he was starting out and he helped her when she was struggling). But she also does non- singing just as well like the clock ( her first movie where she sings no songs and is an underrated ww2 era romance), her Oscar nominated a star is born ( like the man that got away she put her whole soul in that and I have beef with the fact she lost to grace kelly ((whom I love but like still not even her best work)), and judgement at Nuremberg (a courtroom drama about the nazi war criminal trials). Outside of film she made concert appearances to record-breaking audiences, released 8 studio albums, and had her own Emmy-nominated tv series. She was the youngest (39) and first female recipient of the Cecil B DeMille award for lifetime achievement in the film industry. Girl was a lifelong democrat and was a financial and moral supporter of many causes including the civil rights movement (she was at the March on Washington and held a press conference to protest the 16th street Baptist church bombings). She was a friend of the Kennedy family and would call jfk weekly often ending the calls by singing the first few lines of somewhere over the rainbow (she thought of them as Gemini twins).She was a member of the committee for the first amendment which was formed in response to the HUAC investigations. Though she died far too young and tragically she remains an icon for her work and her life. As a girl who didn't feel like i was as pretty as everyone else I have always felt a connection to Judy and I just really love her.
This is round 3 of the tournament. All other polls in this bracket can be found here. Please reblog with further support of your beloved hot sexy vintage woman.
[additional propaganda submitted under the cut.]
Machiko Kyō:
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Judy:
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Judy's voice alone qualifies her for at least top ten hottest HOT VINTAGE MOVIE WOMEN. She was a truly incredible swing singer, with a stunning voice on top of her technique. Her short dark hair looked incredible in just about any style. Have I mentioned her swagger? I can’t do it justice with words. She had swagger. She was funny as hell, and clever too. Incredibly charming and cool. I adore her.
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Her eyes, her voice have bewitched me
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I mean how can you beat the one and only Judy? She's beautiful, her smile is contagious, the way she sings with her whole body. You can't help but love her.
youtube
Beautiful woman, love her singing voice. And she can do everything between happy or silly and angry or heartbroken
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upat4amwiththemoon · 6 months
Text
The stars
Summary: I see my lover when I look at the stars.
Pairing: Carol Danvers x female!reader
Warnings: sexism, men, it’s the 80s, some angst
Word count: 3902
a/n: second chance romance trope, I’m so happy with this you guys!!
Tags: @thought-of-you-and-me @rafecameronswhore @natashamaximoff69
masterlists | guidelines
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1985
Pancho’s bar wasn’t the fanciest place to work at as a young woman, especially because most of the customers are men from the air force. Their favorite past time besides drinking is trying to seduce Y/N, and get her number. But she isn’t interested in them, and never will be, though that’s something she’ll keep to herself. At least the constant flirting leads to good tips, which will eventually help her get out of the bar.
Y/N dries a glass with a rag now that she has some downtime. The rush time will start soon, so she wants to prepare for it to the best of her abilities. There are few regulars sitting either at a table or by the bar, but she knows they’ll let her know if they need anything, otherwise they like to quietly drink to their sorrows.
When the bell by the door rings, Y/N quickly glances at the new customers way, she only sees the air force logo on their clothes, making her roll her eyes. They’re out early today. She sets the cleans classes to their places and washes her hands, taking a deep breath, she gets ready for the onslaught of vulgar words.
“Hey, could we get two beers?”
Her head snaps up when she hears the feminine voice. Two women are standing in front of her with the air force clothes on and friendly smiles on their faces. Y/N stares at them with wide eyes for a moment. Sure every now and then women wonder into the bar, but she has never seen air force women come in.
Y/N regains her composure and grabs two beer glasses. “Sure thing! Which beers would you like?” Her customer service voice is cheery and slightly more high pitched than her normal one.
“Sierra Nevada, please.”
“Coming right up.” As Y/N moves to the taps to pour the beers, the two women start whispering and throwing looks between each other. Without Y/N noticing, the blonde woman’s gaze moves to places her eyes shouldn’t go. “Here you go.” She sets the beers in front of them.
“Thanks,” the woman glances at Y/N’s name tag, “Y/N. I’m Carol.” She hands some bills to pay for both of the drinks. “And this is Maria.” Carol states when she gets nudged to her side by the other woman.
“Nice to meet you.” Y/N says, her voice slower as she tries to figure out her intentions. Carol’s tone is similar to the multiple men who like flirt with her, though more genuine sounding, but surely that’s not what she is doing with her. “Here’s your change.”
“Keep it.” Carol winks before she and Maria go over to a table and sit down, leaving flustered Y/N at the bar.
She pockets the tip and start rearranging the dishes, trying to occupy her mind from wandering to incredibly good looking Carol.
When the clock strikes midnight, the bar is already at full swing. People are dancing to the loud music coming from the jukebox, and occasional bursts of laughter can be heard from the tables full of men, drunk men.
Y/N has been moved from behind the bar to the floor, bringing back empty classes and taking people’s drink orders. Because the other workers are men, they believe having a woman on the floor is better for business.
“Hey, sweetheart!” A drunken air force soldier shouts from a table full of them. He is waving his hand around in a come here motion. With a sigh, Y/N puts on her best smile and makes her way over to their table. “How much for a pretty girl like you to sit with us?” He waves a wad of cash in the air, his mouth formed in a grin that show his teeth. The others are staring at the two like it’s the best entertainment they’ve ever seen.
“Unfortunately I don’t have time to sit with customers. Is there anything else I could get you?” She smiles, holding a tray under her arm. She wants out of the situation, not liking the feeling of all the men’s eyes on her.
“Oh, come on, sweetheart.” The way the man says sweetheart makes Y/N want to gag. “Aren’t you supposed to do anything the customer want, eh? Besides, girls love money, don’t they?”
“I have to go help other customers, let me know if you want more drinks or something to eat.”
As Y/N goes to walk away from the table, the man grabs her arm. “Well hold on a second,” he slurs his words, “I ain’t done with you yet.”
Huffing, she glares at the man. She’s starting to get annoyed. “Listen, mister, I’m working right now, and have to attend to other customers as well.” Her voice has lost its cheery tone. “So, let me go.”
“Ooh, feisty!” One of the other man at the table comments. It makes the other laugh loudly, and enrages Y/N. She is aware this is a man’s world, but she is not going to be their entertainer.
Before Y/N can retaliate, someone else steps in to her rescue. “Hey. She said to let her go.” Carol stands next to her with her back straightened and shoulders pulled back. “So let her go.” Her voice is low, and her eyes are cold. She looks like someone you don’t want to mess around with.
“Well look at you,” the man scoffs, “it’s the wannabe soldier.” He sneers.
“Let the lady go, I’m warning you.”
“Oh, you’re warning me?” He stands up, still holding onto Y/N’s arm. All the humor has left him. “And what are you going to do about it?” He stands slightly taller than Carol, but it doesn’t seem to deter her.
The tension between the two start to grow. Y/N stands there, frozen, keeping her eyes on Carol. She doesn’t want to deal with this right now, her shift is supposed to end soon.
Suddenly, Carol raises her fist, and punches the man square in the jaw. He stumbles backwards into the chair he was sitting in, finally letting go of Y/N. “You bitch!” He shouts, wiping blood away from his lip. He goes to stand up, but before the situation escalates any further, one of the other bar workers come to escort him out.
“You okay?” Carol turns to look at Y/N once the men are out of the bar.
“Yeah,” she rubs the spot the man was holding onto, “thanks for helping.” Her mouth grows into a small smile. “That was kinda amazing.”
Grinning, Carol shrugs. “I have a things for saving pretty ladies who happen to work at this bar.”
Y/N lets out a small laugh as she shakes her head. “Okay, superhero.” Her voice is playful, but she can feel her cheeks flushing. “I have to get back to work now.”
“When do you get off?” Carol follows Y/N around while she picks up empty glasses.
“In twenty minutes.”
“I’ll walk you home,” she states, “me and Maria, I mean. You shouldn’t walk alone this late at night.”
Y/N bites the inside of her cheek. She glances at Carol, feeling warmth rush over her body when she sees the hopeful look on her face. “Alright. I’ll see you in twenty.” Giving her a smile, she returns back behind the bar.
Carol has a huge grin on her face as she stares at Y/N work. “What did I miss?” Maria walks over to her, having been occupied by beating a man’s ass in pool.
“We’re walking her home.”
Maria glances at Y/N, and nudges Carol’s side with a smirk. “You like her.”
“Maybe.”
1987
The front door of Y/N’s small, crappy apartment slams shut as she comes home from her shift at Pancho’s bar. It’s late at night, Y/N is exhausted, and she is sweaty, and she just wants to fall asleep without worrying about anything.
She throws her keys somewhere on top of the dresser she has next to her front door, and kicks her work shoes out of her feet. “Jesus!” A shout leaves out of her mouth when she turns around. Carol is standing there with a sheepish smile and a bouquet of flowers. “You scared the crap out of me.” She mumbles, holding a hand on her racing heart. “What are you doing here?”
“Sorry.” Carol sets the flowers next to Y/N’s key. “You gave me a key, so I wanted to surprise you. I didn’t remember you were working so late.” Her voice isn’t radiating the confidence it usually is. It’s softer and nervous.
The bouquet is big, it has more flowers Y/N has ever gotten before, and it’s wrapped with pink paper. “Thank you.” She smiles, picking up the bouquet and going to her so-called kitchen to put the flowers in a vase.
Carol follows her, staying close by, but still giving her space, she can see how tense Y/N’s body is. “Tough day at work?”
“Something like that.”
It turns quiet while Y/N fills a vase with water from the tap. The apartment doesn’t have any separate rooms besides the bathroom. All the kitchen appliances, a bed, small couch and a television are within reach of each other. It’s definitely not something Y/N wants to spend her whole life in, but she can survive in it, and that’s enough for now.
“How long were you waiting?” The vase gets set down to the single counter she has in the kitchen area.
Glancing at the clock, Carol hums. “Like, a couple of hours, maybe.”
“Carol,” Y/N sighs and rubs the space between her eyes, “you should’ve gone to sleep, don’t you need to be at the base tomorrow?”
“I took a day off.”
“Why would you do that?”
“To spend time with you.” The way Carol’s voice is so gentle makes Y/N want to cry after the day she has had.
Today’s shift felt ten times worse than any other shift in the past, it was full of drunk men and angry customers who genuinely believed in the fact that customer is always right, even when they aren’t. On top of that, her manager thinks the customers are more important than his employees, so he always found a way to satisfy the angry customers, which made them see Y/N as the bad guy.
“Hey,” Carol’s hands go to her cheeks, rubbing them softly, “why are you crying?”
“Sometimes I can’t handle it all.” She gets pulled into a warm embrace. “I was supposed to get out of here ages ago and see the world, but I just can’t get out of here.” Y/N sobs quietly, trying to hold herself back so she wouldn’t ruin Carol’s clothes with her tears and snot.
But Carol doesn’t care. One of her hands is rubbing Y/N’s back, while the other rests at the back of her head. She stays quiet, letting Y/N sob it all out in peace.
The two have been officially seeing each other for a while now. For the first year and a half they mostly danced around each other, both too anxious to make the first move in case they got the wrong impression, and the other person wasn’t interested in women after all. However, during that time, they became very close friends, so when Carol finally did do the first move—thanks to Maria—they moved forward pretty quickly.
Once Y/N tears start to subside, Carol whispers, “take a shower, I’ll make you a snack and ready your bed for us, okay?” Y/N nods, gives her a small peck to the cheek, and makes her way towards the bathroom.
Carol and Y/N are laying on top of each other on the bed as they watch a random movie that’s on one of the night channels. They should be asleep, but they really wanted to spend time with each other, as they don’t have a lot of opportunities to do so.
“Can i ask you something?” Y/N’s quiet voice almost goes past Carol.
“Yeah.”
“Why air force?”
“I’ve always wanted to fly.”
“Isn’t it scary?”
“No.” Carol smiles. She loves the feeling of being free in the air, having the possibility to go anywhere in the world she desires. Y/N hums quietly, not saying anything. “Why do you ask?” Carol tries to move her head in a way she’d be able to see Y/N’s face in the light coming from the television, while not disturbing her position on top of her.
“I just think it’s dangerous is all.”
“Are you worried about me?” She grins.
Y/N’s hand is resting under Carol’s shirt, tracing different shapes on her side. “Kind of hard not to be when i’m in love with you.” She whispers. The grin on Carol’s face falls at the words. She isn’t sure if she even heard her correctly, but she really hopes she did. Y/N moves her head up to see her. “I don’t want to lose you.”
The sentence assures Carol she heard correctly. “You won’t lose me, because I’ll always come back home to you. I love you.”
“Do you promise?”
“I promise.”
They kiss, both feeling the smiles on each other’s faces. Carol tightens her arms around Y/N as they pull away. She closes her eyes and listens to the soft sounds of Y/N’s breathing melting in with the sounds of the television, as they fall asleep.
1989
Y/N paces around her house, ruining her nails by biting them. Her eyes are locked on her phone. She is waiting for a call, from anyone, as long as someone calls her and tells her she is overthinking things, that Carol is okay. She has called Maria three times by now, and the air force base once, but none of the calls have been successful.
Carol was supposed to come over four hours ago, straight from work, but she hasn’t arrived yet, nor has she called Y/N to let her know she’ll be late, that’s what she usually does.
Groaning, Y/N picks up the phone and punches in Maria’s number, calling her again. “Come on, come on.” She mumbles, tapping her foot to the ground in a rapid pace. “Damn it!” The phone drops to the table with a crash, few plastic pieces flying off of it from the impact.
No one is answering.
She sits down to the couch, it creaks slightly every time someone moves on it, which had led to some uncomfortable make out sessions with Carol.
Most of her nails are already too short to bite, so she moves to the skin around her them, biting them until she bleeds. Her eyes are locked onto the muted television, desperately trying to distract herself from her thoughts. She is aware of her tendency to overthink and catastrophize things, she always thinks Carol is dead if she hasn’t called by the time she promised to, but that was never the actual situation. This is the same case. Carol isn’t dead, she just got caught up at the base. Nothing horrible has happened.
A knock on the door makes her body relax. Carol is finally here. She lets out a relieved laugh and goes to open the door, however, her face turns to a frown once she notices Maria standing behind it.
“Hey, where’s Carol?”
Maria looks tired. “Can I come inside?” As Y/N nods, she steps in and looks at the floor. “I think you should sit down.”
“Maria-“
“Please,” she looks up at her, “sit down.”
Y/N sits back down on the couch, while Maria stays standing up. She is gathering her thoughts while trying to take deep breaths. “Carol volunteered to pilot with Doctor Wendy Lawson on something important, and the plane, uhm..it-“
“Don’t you dare say it, Maria.” There are tears gathering in the corners of Y/N’s eyes. She knows where this is going, but she wishes she didn’t.
“The plane crashed.” Maria sits down next to Y/N when she starts properly crying. “They couldn’t find anyone, Carol is classified dead. I’m so sorry, Y/N. I wanted to come tell you because no one else would’ve.” No one else knows about their relationship.
Not being able to say anything, Y/N just leans against Maria, who has started crying as well. The person they both consider closest to them, is dead.
1995
It has been a week since Carol helped the Skrulls to get out of the Kree’s line of fire, which means it’s been a week since she got her memories back. Ever since then, only one thing has been in her mind, her lover.
It’s early morning as Carol and Maria drink coffee in the latter’s kitchen, Monica still sound asleep upstairs. “What happened with Y/N when I disappeared?” Carol asks, her voice quite hesitant.
Maria sets her cup down. “I’m not sure. She was obviously pretty devastated when I told her what had happened.”
“She doesn’t still work at Pancho’s, does she?”
“I don’t think so,” Maria frowns, “but Carol, I haven’t talked to her in a long time. She stopped answering my calls three years ago. I don’t know where she is, or how she’s doing.”
Sighing, Carol stands up. “I have to find her.”
Naturally, the first place Carol goes to is Y/N’s apartment, though she really hopes she won’t find her there, that she moved on and started travelling the world like she planned to.
She knocks on the door and waits. Nothing happens, so she knocks again, just in case. She’s almost ready to let out a sigh of relief, but soft sound of footsteps coming from inside the apartment stop her. As the steps grow closer, a small, selfish part of her wishes it’s Y/N who opens the door.
Somehow she feels more pain than relief when the door opens, and Y/N stands before her.
They stare at each other, both stunned by the sight in front of them. Y/N has bags under her eyes, and her hair is messy. She is wearing an old t-shirt that once belonged to Carol, her legs are bare.
She goes to slam the door closed, thinking she has finally gone mad, but Carol’s hand stops it from moving. “You aren’t real.” Y/N’s voice is shaky. Her eyes are closed, she doesn’t want to see the person standing in front of her, because it can’t possibly be Carol.
“I’m real.” Carol whispers, but Y/N only shakes her head as an answer. “I didn’t die, I was captured by Krees after we crashed.”
“You aren’t making any sense, you aren’t real.”
“Can you let me in, please?” Gently, Carol sets her hand on top of Y/N’s hand, that is still holding onto the door. The touch makes Y/N open her eyes, and turn them towards Carol. She stares at her for a long while before opening the door wider.
As Carol walks inside the familiar apartment, she looks around for any changes, but it looks exactly the same as it did six years ago. She hates it. While Carol walks deeper into the tiny apartment, Y/N stays by the front door. Her arms are crossed over her chest in a protective kind of way.
“You weren’t supposed to stay here.”
“I couldn’t leave y-“ she stops herself, “Carol.” She isn’t entirely sure if the woman in her house truly is her Carol. “What happened? Who are the Kree?”
“It’s a long story.” She has a gentle grin on her face, one that reminds Y/N so much of the way Carol used to look at her. “You might want to sit down for it.” Y/N shakes her head, staying right where she is. Carol frowns, but nods, sitting down to the couch. It still creaks anytime weight gets put on it. “Shorter version of it is: when we crashed, Dr. Lawson told me the truth about her mission before he was shot by a Kree. Before he could kill me too, I destroyed an engine, which made me absorb energy of a Tesseract, so the Kree took me with him to their planet Hala. I was integrated to their society, I had no memories of my human life. A bunch of years later, I crashed back to Earth, a lot of fighting happened, I discovered my true power and my memories, and helped the Skrulls.”
“I don’t know what any of that means.” Y/N whispers. Any time Carol used to talk about air force things with her, she felt dumb, but all of this is making her think they aren’t even speaking the same language anymore.
“I was in space, and I have powers now.”
“Like a superhero?”
Carol smiles, nodding. “Yeah, I’m a real life superhero now.”
“You already were a superhero in my eyes.”
Standing up, she takes a few tentative steps towards her. All she wants to do is hold her, kiss her, tell her she’ll never leave her again. But Carol can still see the hesitation in Y/N’s eyes, she can see the years of pain and exhaustion in her expression.
“But then you died.”
Carol stops. She’s close to Y/N, but too far away to touch her. Oh, how desperately she just wants to feel her soft skin under her palm again, even if the years without her have hardened it. “I’m here now.” She pleads with her eyes—please believe me.
“You won’t stay,” Y/N states quietly, “if you’re a hero now.”
“I can take you with me, wherever I go. I won’t leave you again. I’ll help you get out of this place.” Carol takes another few steps forward, reaching her hand towards Y/N. “Please give me another chance.”
Y/N stares at her hand. It’s more calloused than before, rougher. She grips the skin on top of her ribs tightly, trying to ground herself, she feels like ripping herself apart.
“Please.” Her voice cracks. Her eyes are wet with unshed tears. “I can’t live without you.”
Y/N grabs her hand with her own shaking one. Carol squeezes with a smile, pulling her close slow enough that Y/N can stop her if she wishes to. Once they are chest against chest, she pulls her into a full embrace. The waterworks start from the both of them the second they’re in each other’s arms. Carol letting out all of the pent up grief she wasn’t even aware she had, and Y/N still trying to grasp the reality of the situation.
“I missed you.” Y/N chokes out between her sobs. “I missed you so much.”
“I know, I’m sorry.” Carol holds onto her girl so tightly, pressing her against her body like she’d disappear if she let go. “I’m going to show you the world now, because you deserve so much better than this place. I’ll never let you go.”
Although, Y/N doesn’t trust in promises anymore, some small part inside of her sparks hope, that she’ll truly never be separated from Carol again. She’ll even go all the to the stars for her if she has to.
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lqveharrington · 25 days
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You Look Beautiful | V.
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summary: Alastor introduces you to Vox, leading to an unforgettable experience with your father.
pairing: vox x lucifer’s daughter!reader
includes: drinking, fluff, VALENTINO, secret relationships, awkward flirting, lucifer being an overprotective father, lucifer also being lucifer, that’s basically it (let me know if i missed any !!)
a/n: this takes place before Vox upgrades to a flat screen TV and before Alastor leaves for his seven year absence. Also, you’re older than charlie 🤗
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Being Lucifer Morningstar’s first daughter was something else. Especially when your mother left. When she left, your father fell into deep depression which left you with paperwork to fulfill from other sins and left you with the responsibility of watching over your younger sister. Having to take over both your mother and father’s royal duties was getting to you, so no wonder you resorted to occasional clubbing with your friends.
“Husk!” You enveloped the demon cat in your arms, earning a noise of complaint. “Rude.”
“I don’t take affection lightly.” He patted your back awkwardly and let you settle into the booth with him. “What took you so long?”
You roll your eyes, “Charlie wanted to invite the stupid Von Eldritch boy over. I at least had to set some ground rules.”
“She’ll disobey them.” Husk shook his head and ordered a whiskey. “You know her.”
“Yeah yeah.” You wave him off and order your own drink, tapping your nails against your flip phone. “Do you know if Alastor’s here yet?”
“Why, I would like to believe I’m here, darling.” The Radio Demon formed in front of you. Husk muttered something toward your direction, Alastor’s grin sharpening at the action. “I’ve brought along some acquaintances if you don’t mind.”
You look up before sipping your drink. “Yeah, what you’ve brought is a doll, a moth, and a tv— Ow.” You rubbed your arm where Husk jabbed you, glaring at him.
Your eyes drifted toward the three demons Alastor brought with him, tilting your head at the height differences. You learned that the shortest amongst them was Velvette. Out of the three of them, she seemed to be the one with the most fashion sense as she nitpicked everyone else’s clothing in the establishment. Her accent was heavy, leaving you to wonder what she said half of the time.
“Oh god, that bitch is wearing wrist ruffles! Someone burn it.” She spoke in distaste at the demon.
“Vel, she’s already wasted, don’t give her any more ideas.” The moth blew out pink smoke, watching the young demon stumble across the dance floor.
For a moth, he was the tallest demon between the three of them, towering over everyone even while sitting. He introduced himself to be Valentino… The porn demon. He gave you goosebumps from sitting across you. And for being the princess of hell, that means a lot. He seemed to be eyeing all the younger demons, his single gold tooth flashing when he grinned at them.
“Val, come dance with me.” Velvette dragged him out of the booth, not waiting for a response. “Voxy, you’re welcome to join.”
You shifted your gaze over to the TV demon, watching him politely decline the offer. He definitely kept you guessing. When you first saw him, he was reserved and only spoke to those he came with. However, he eventually started to loosen up, taking shots with Valentino. And for a demon with a TV box for a head, he was quite interesting.
“You’re not gonna dance?” You stir your red straw in your drink, catching the demon’s attention. “It seemed like Velvette wanted you to join them.”
“Dancing with big crowds isn’t my thing.” He swirled a claw over the rim of his glass and met your eyes. “What about you?”
“What about me?” Your eyes drift over to Husk ordering another whiskey at the bar, Alastor hot on his tail.
“Why aren’t you dancing?”
“I wasn’t up to it, but now that you mention it—“ You tilted your head back and downed your drink, not noticing the glitching TV beside you. “—You have to come dancing with me.”
“I don’t think—“
You click your tongue, pushing your drink away. “Just one song? If you don’t want to, you can leave when we get there.” You take his hand and pout, using the face your father gave you to make it more convincing. “Please?”
He huffed but let you drag him to the dance floor, moving his hand to your hip when you hit the center of the huge crowd. “You know, I’m starting to think he just invited me out to be more social with his friends.”
“Al and I are barely friends, but how is that working out for you?” You question as the red light glares against your skin.
He shrugged as his voice dripped with sarcasm. “Depends on how well I’ve been talking to the people he introduced me to.” He tugged you closer to you when drunk demons pushed against your body. “Do you even remember my name?”
You open your mouth but promptly shut it, cheeks flushed at the confrontation. “I know it! I just… Don’t want to say it.”
“Holy shit, you don’t know my name.” He spun you in his arms, smirking at your pink face. “It’s Vox, by the way.”
“I knew that.” You say with a teasing tone, laughing when he dipped you. “I bet you don’t know my name.”
Your name fell from his mouth smoothly, making you scoff in annoyance. “I believe everyone knows who you are, princess.”
You avoided his gaze after the nickname spilled out of his lips. Sure, you were called princess multiple times by many demons. But the way Vox said it made butterflies appear in your stomach, a different kind of goosebumps appearing across your skin.
As the song came to an end, you learned a lot more about the TV demon in front of you within those last six minutes than you learned from Husk in the last two years. Returning to your booth, your phone vibrated in your pocket as you excused yourself from your company. Charlie’s name lit up your screen, making you curse.
You went back over to the booth to find Vox covering your unfinished drink with his hand, glancing at his own phone. “Hey, I have to go. Sorry for cutting our discussion short. My sister called and—“
“Don’t worry! It’s not an issue! Your family is clearly important sooo…” Vox rubbed the back of his neck, tugging at the turtleneck. “Before you go, can I ask you something?”
“What’s up?” You look back up at him after shooting a text to Charlie.
His screen turned pink as your attention went back to him, all confidence leaving his system. “I was wondering if you would like to meet up again. Sometime? Not in a club possibly?”
Your face warms at his words, at a loss for your own response. “Uh.. Yes! Of course, let me just get your contact info.”
“Right!” He felt the inside of his jacket for a pen, taking your hand a scribbling down his number. “Just give me a call whenever you can.”
You smiled at how fast he switched from confident to shy within seconds. “Of course.”
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“Oh my god.” You mumble as you watch your father converse with the store’s employees animatedly, rubbing your temples at the sight.
Charlie snickered at your expression as he summoned a rubber duck he was working on. “You can’t tell me you weren’t expecting this when we went out today.”
“No, I knew.” You turn away from your father’s embarrassing encounter and flick through different dresses on the rack behind you instead. “I think knowing this would happen made it a hundred times worse.”
Since Lilith left, Lucifer took it upon himself to treat his daughters out to buy their own clothing at least once a month. He just always got distracted by showing other demons his creations.
“Char, do you think I could pull this off?” You pull a dress from the rack and put it against yourself, staring at the mirror with your nail between your teeth. You quite liked it, but you weren’t sure if you would wear it more than once—
“Personally, I think you would look amazing.” A voice that was distinctly not Charlie came from your left.
You whipped your head over as your face reddened at the TV demon. “Shut up, Vox.”
“I’m serious! You would look great in that.” He fully came into your view, pressing a soft kiss to your cheek. “Didn’t expect to see you today.”
Humming, you walk back over to the rack and examine the rest of the dresses, Vox close behind. “My dad wanted to take Charlie and I out.” You glanced up at him when you pulled out a maroon dress, silently asking for his opinion. “What are you doing here?”
“Well, this is Velvette’s own designer store.” He cleared his throat, eyes darting toward the sign that had his business partner’s name under it. “She sent me to check on the stock or something.”
“Did you?” You question as you scan over the prices on the dresses, clicking your tongue. “Check on whatever she needs you to check on, I mean?”
He shrugged, “You distracted me, princess.”
You flush pink again at the name, bumping him with your hip. “Go do your job, Vox.”
“It’s not my fault I saw you!”
“Yes, it is!” You tease with an accusatory finger to his chest. “I’m an innocent bystander—“
Charlie rounded the corner of the store looking for you, eyes brightening when seeing your figure. “Hey, dad’s asking for you— Oh!” You and Vox separated swiftly, eyes wide at the young Morningstar. “Uh, am I.. interrupting something? Orrr…?”
“No no, you’re fine, Charlie.” Your face remained warm, not meeting your sister’s eyes. An awkward silence filled the room before Vox cleared his throat, making you spring into action. “Right! Charlie, this is Vox. Vox, Charlie.”
“It’s nice to meet you, Charlie.” Vox gave her a polite smile, squeezing your hip. “Your sister talks a lot about you.
Charlie practically glowed at the confession, looking over at you for confirmation. “It’s nice to meet you as well!” She glanced at the two of you in suspicion. “I’m sorry to cut your… Meeting? Uh, short, but our dad needs her…”
Vox squeezed your hip one last time before pressing a quick kiss to your temple, soft static emitting from the spot. “I’ll text you later.”
“Bye.” You give him a lovesick look as you nod, walking over to a grinning Charlie.
“Soooo…” Charlie looked back, watching the TV demon’s screen become crimson with small electric hearts appearing. “Who was that?”
“Vox.”
She rolled her eyes at your bluntness, “Okay, obviously! But who is he?”
You fiddle with the hangers in your arms, not meeting her eyes. “He’s a guy… That I’m seeing… Currently…”
“Oh. My. Gosh!” She squeezed your arm with excitement, bouncing with every step. “Why didn’t you tell me? That’s super exciting!”
“I didn’t want Dad to find out.” You shake your head at the thought. “He’s been a bit overprotective with who we hang out with recently.”
Speak of the devil, he’ll appear.
“GIRLS! COME MEET THIS NICE YOUNG WOMAN!”
You and Charlie looked at each other while wincing, slowly approaching your father.
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“Charlie!” You yell from your bathroom, rushing over to your walk-in closet. You sift through your dresses, looking for the maroon dress.
“What?” She yelled from your bedroom, giving KeeKee stomach rubs.
Swiftly, you snatch the dress off the hanger and run back over to the bathroom, throwing your towel over the shower and slipping into the dress. “Can you run downstairs and make sure Dad doesn’t open the door? Vox is coming to pick me up—“
“Why can’t you do it?” She groaned, flopping down onto your bed
“Because I’m not done dressing!” Your eyes flash red in annoyance with small horns poking out of your head as you peek over at the young demon. “The staff has the day off today because it’s the end of the month, and I really don’t want Dad to open the door.”
Charlie muttered something incoherent before leaving the room, KeeKee right by her heels. To be fair, you were a little rude, but you had the right to be. You were terrified for your father to meet Vox. Not that Vox was horrible, but your father's protectiveness started to rise much faster these last couple of months. As you were finishing up your makeup, your phone rang, followed by a groan coming out of your mouth.
“Hello?” You picked up your phone, slipping on your red heels and gold jewelry.
“Hi, princess.” Vox’s voice came through the cellular device, making you smile.
“Are you here already?” You glance at the clock in your room and curse at the time, running down the stairs.
He chuckled awkwardly, “Yeah, but uhm, your dad looks like he’s gonna kill me.”
“Fuck, okay, give me a second.” You shut your phone and open a portal to the front door instead of running all the way down to the foyer. “Hey, Dad!”
“Sweetie, who the hell is this guy?” Lucifer glared at the TV demon. Vox buffered at the comment, embarrassment filling his system.
You wedge yourself in between the two, whispering an apology to Vox. “Dad, this is Vox. Vox, my dad..”
“It’s nice to meet you, Mister Morningstar.” Vox offered his hand but slowly lowered it as he received no reaction.
“Uh-huh.” Lucifer looked at him up and down. “And who exactly is he?”
You hold the urge to laugh at how similar Charlie was to your father but snap back to reality when you hear Vox’s fans turn on.
“He’s my…” You glance back at the demon behind you before down at your father, linking your hands with Vox’s. “Vox is my boyfriend.”
“Your what now?” He stared at you with wide eyes, gaze shifting from the now bright pink demon to his darling daughter.
“My boyfriend.” You say again with more assurance. “We’ve been together a bit after Alastor introduced us—“
“The radio demon?” Lucifer made a face of disgust. “Okay, well you can come back inside the house and you—“ He pushed Vox out while pulling you in. “—Can leave my property.”
“Dad!” You tug Vox back to your side, apologizing once more for your father’s actions. “I’m going out with him tonight.”
“Oh, c’mon. He’s associated with the stupid radio—“
“I’m friends with Alastor!” Your eyes flash red again but calmed once Vox squeezes your hand. You blink before speaking again, taking a deep breath. “Listen, can I just go out? I’ll be back later.”
Lucifer sighed, rubbing his temple. “You’re happy? He makes you happy?”
You nod while smiling up at Vox, “Very.”
“And you’ll watch over her?” He looked over at Vox, brow raised at the demon.
“Yes, sir.” Vox squeezed your hand again.
He bit back any words of annoyance and gave a strained smile to the both of you. “Have fun on your date, sweetheart.”
You grinned and pulled him in for a hug, “Thank you! Love you!”
“Alright, just be back by midnight.” He flicked his hand which set a timer over the doorway. “Be safe.”
“We will!” You take Vox’s hand again and drag him away from the door. “That was easy.”
Vox furrowed his brows at your statement, wrapping his arm around your hip. “For you, maybe. He looked like he wanted to murder me.”
You shrug your shoulders, “You’ll get used to it.” You give him a proper look, tugging at his tie when you thought you were far enough from your father’s gaze. “You look handsome as always.”
“You look…” He pulled you close by the waist, smirking as you flushed red. “Beautiful.”
You push up on your toes and press a kiss to his lips, hands coming up to the sides of his screen. He hummed and pulled you closer, thumbs rubbing circles by your hip.
“HEY! BACK UP, BUDDY!” Lucifer yelled from the door, full demon form out on display.
You chuckle when Vox glitches, patting his chest. “Sorry, handsome.”
“STAY TEN FEET AWAY FROM HER!”
Rolling your eyes, you turn around and let your own demon form come out. “DAD!”
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avatar-anna · 7 months
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Assistant! Reader x Harry Styles Masterlist
2013
"Mr. Styles? Mr. Styles, you need to get up. You have a radio interview in an hour."
There was no response, but Y/n expected that. Her boss had a tendency of sleeping like the dead, a side effect of partying too long the night before.
Sighing, Y/n stepped further into the lavish hotel suite. Her first instinct was to check the tour bus, but she should've known better. LA always meant a hotel suite. When she finally made it to her boss's room, she only had to follow the trail of clothes leading to the huge bed and there he was. She also noted a separate head of hair tucked beneath the covers. A headache, seeing as that meant a trip to the legal department and an awkward conversation with said headache. But that was the job. And Y/n was nothing if not exceptional at being Harry Styles's personal assistant.
Walking over to Harry's side of the bed, Y/n shook his shoulder. His skin was warm beneath her hand, but she didn't focus on that or the corded muscle that hadn't been there a few months ago. Those boxing lessons really were paying off.
"Mr. Styles, please don't make me get the bucket," Y/n said, shaking his shoulder one last time. When he didn't move, she stepped away to grab the champagne bucket she knew was in the fridge. Harry always had one in his room, but at Y/n's request, not his. 
Before she could grab it though, a voice sounded from the mountain of pillows and blankets. "Please don't. I hate the bucket."
Shaking her head, Y/n told the voice, "If you woke up when you were supposed to, I wouldn't have to use it."
"Your hands are soft but cruel, Y/n," he said, his voice deeper than it normally was.
"You've got thirty minutes to wash last night off and get dressed," was all she said in reply, but there was a small grin on her face.
As far as bosses went, Harry Styles wasn't the worst. He was sweet and not a total diva, which made Y/n's life a lot easier. He was a young guy with a lot of money and fame, though, and that meant waking him up from deep, hangover-induced sleep was the norm, and getting him to arrive on time anywhere was pretty much impossible. But he didn't make her life miserable, and for that she was thankful.
When she made sure Harry was actually out of bed and getting ready, Y/n went about her usual routine—making sure a car was ready to drive them to the radio station, ordering room service, setting out a bottle of water, three Advil, and a bullet coffee from Harry's favorite coffee house when he was in LA on the dining table in the main room of the suite. Room service arrived as she heard the shower shut off, and after checking her watch, Y/n deigned to believe they might not be that late today. A win in her book.
Ten minutes later, Harry was out of the master bedroom in a pair of black skinny jeans and a Stones t-shirt. His hair was damp and unstyled—an easy fix in the car—and his face was surprisingly fresh looking despite his late night. His eyes landed on the water and Advil first, quickly swiping those off the dining table, then saw the plates of food Y/n was helping herself to.
"Leave some for me?" he asked, throwing the pills back and downing them in one gulp.
Y/n shrugged. "Got you something better."
"What's better than Belgian waffles and bacon?"
"I might've popped over to the Beachwood Cafe this morning," she said, grinning when her words dawned on Harry.
"Breakfast burrito?"
"Mmhm."
"And the toast with the special jam?"
"What do you take me for?"
"You're the best, Y/n," Harry gushed, coming around the table to squeeze her. 
For a moment, Y/n’s senses could only process Harry's cologne, a scent that wasn't too overwhelming but definitely there. And when her nose pressed against his neck, she had to make a conscious effort to not breathe in deep. Instead, she shifted in his embrace and plucked a slice of bacon off her plate to hand to him.
As difficult as he could be sometimes, Harry Styles really was a sweetheart. Since she'd started working for him a year ago, he'd been nothing but gracious to her. He always went out of his way to talk to her when he didn't have to, he never raised his voice when things that were out of her control went wrong, he hung out with her in his dressing room when she worked on his schedule or answered emails before his shows, and the Christmas bonus he'd given her this year was unlike anything she'd received before. Y/n had been unsure of what to expect when she took this job, but after nearly a year, she and Harry operated like a well-oiled machine, and she liked to believe that even though he was her boss, they were at the very least acquaintances.
"Is the car ready?" Harry asked around a bite of bacon.
"Yeah, head down there. I'll handle…" Y/n's voice trailed off as she nodded in the direction of the master bedroom, where Harry's guest had yet to hear.
"Right, um…"
Y/n pinned him with a stare. "This is a new low, Mr. Styles."
"I know. I swear I know it, it's the alcohol fog," he insisted, but they both knew that didn't make it any better. "And for the last time, it's Harry."
Shaking her head, Y/n motioned to the door. "Go, or you're gonna be late."
He didn't put up much of a fight after that. He grabbed his coffee and breakfast and headed for the door, but not before squeezing Y/n's shoulder affectionately. "You really are the best, Y/n. I'm gonna give you a raise."
"That's my third raise this year!" Y/n said, calling after him as he walked out.
"You deserve it! Just say thank you!" he said with a wave, then he was gone.
Y/n sat in silence for a moment, her cheeks flushing involuntarily. She swore it was that he was uncharacteristically kind for a celebrity. Harry was just charming and endearing, that was why she was blushing.
"Harry?"
A voice coming from the bedroom brought Y/n back to earth. Harry might have gone to his interview, but her job was far from done. Sighing, she pulled out a folder where she kept all her legal documents out of her bag, rifling through the color-coded tabs until she landed on the purple one. She slipped a piece of paper out, then snagged a pen from a smaller pocket in her purse.
Readying herself for what would be a less-than-pleasant conversation, Y/n clutched the NDA in her hand and went to greet the woman who would no doubt be disappointed to see her instead of the man she thought she seduced the night before.
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