#I understand if I’m late and they send a message but why you asking before the meeting 😭😭 | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

freedomfireflies · 1 year ago

Text

Always*

Summary: The fifth and final part to 404*

The one with car crashes and closet sex.

Word Count: 4.3k

*Contains Mature and Explicit content! Please only consume what you feel comfortable with!💞You are so much more important!*

Arrogant Twat: Playing hooky, that’s not like you

Arrogant Twat: You’re not that cool

Arrogant Twat: I can see you reading my messages you know

Arrogant Twat: So if you’re ignoring me, it’s not working

Arrogant Twat: …okay seriously this is really fucking childish, are you really not gonna come to work just because I won’t fuck you?

Arrogant Twat: It’s been three days, Princess, you can’t hide from me forever

You: You are so fucking annoying, I am not hiding from you, I’m SICK

You: This may come as a surprise, but my world does not revolve around you or your cock

You: So if you don’t mind, I need to go throw up

Tossing your phone down onto the bed, you rush into the bathroom to grasp onto the sink and brace yourself over the porcelain. Silently willing your body to comply, to keep the fluids down. You don’t want to be sick, but thinking about Harry always tends to make you.

You smirk to yourself at the joke before running your hands under the cold stream of water to gently rinse off your face. Needing to feel something cool against your feverish skin before you slink back to bed.

Truth be told, you don’t mind the break from work. And from Harry, specifically. Sure, you understand why he ended things. And you aren’t exactly upset about it, seeing as he wasn’t really that great of company to keep.

But he’s angry. You know he’s angry, and that’s why he claimed he wanted to stop. And you feel guilty over having pushed him there, you do. After all, you knew better. You two don’t talk about anything personal. You don’t ask questions, you don’t pry. You don’t show any sort of emotion or understanding.

You broke the one rule. And truthfully, you aren’t quite sure how to face him now.

Overcome with fatigue, you slump back down onto your bed, and disappear beneath the covers. Pulling them up to your chin as a shiver rolls down your sweaty skin, all the way to your fuzzy sock-covered toes.

You try to watch some television to get your mind off the pain and congestion but find yourself growing sleepier with each quippy remark from Chandler Bing.

And before you know it, you’re out like a light.

The sharp chime of your cellphone is what wakes you. Pulling you from a rather odd dream as you groggily roll over and attempt to find the noise.

It’s a text message, followed shortly after by another. And once you manage to sit up and rub the sandman from your eyes, you see who it’s from.

Arrogant Twat: Open your door

Arrogant Twat: And hurry up, it’s fucking freezing out here

Curious, and a tad startled, you glance toward your bedroom door, almost as if expecting to see him.

He can’t possibly be outside of your apartment building right now. He has no idea where you live, nor would he ever have any desire to be here. This has to be some sort of prank. He’ll get you to walk outside into the freezing night air only to realize he’s nowhere to be found.

That is the Harry you know.

Arrogant Twat: For the love of God, Tinkerbell, open the fucking door before I freeze my ass off

With a huff (and a cough), you fling your covers back and pad over to your window, glancing down into the street.

And there he is, a dark shadowy figure lurking on the steps to your building, angrily glaring at his cellphone.

You feel your heart start to pound, overcome with confusion and intrigue. You don’t understand why he might be here or what he could possibly want so late at night. You’re tempted to send him away, or pretend he has the wrong address.

But you can’t deny that you’re curious as to what he might want or what he’ll say. Especially after the way things ended. Perhaps he’s merely here to catch you up on what you’ve missed with the project. Or maybe he just wants to complain in person.

Either way, you slip on some pajama shorts and a large, oversized sweatshirt for comfort, and head for the door.

With a deep breath, you buzz him in, and wait anxiously as the sound of steps echoes through the stairwell and between the halls.

No matter what happens, you’ll stand your ground. You don’t have the energy to fight him today. If he’s coming into your home, he’ll play by your rules.

There’s a knock on the door. Sharp and precise as you exhale shakily and step closer. Fingers curling around the doorknob before you swing it back and come face to face with the troublemaker himself.

He stands in the doorframe, a dark hoodie pulled over his head, and glasses perched on the bridge of his nose.

In his right hand, he holds a brown bag, allowing it to dangle casually at his side while his eyes rake up and down your figure.

“Shit, you look terrible,” he snorts, pressing his shoulder against the entryway. “Worse than usual, I mean.”

Your expression falls, a glare beginning to form. “Well, this was fun. Buh-bye now,” you huff, already beginning to shut the door in his face.

However, he’s quick to outstretch his hand and smack his palm against the wood, keeping it open. “Okay, all right. Geez, it was just a joke. D’ya lose your sense of humor or something?”

“No, that just wasn’t funny,” you retort, but allow the door to stay ajar. “What do you want?”

He lifts the bag into the air and shakes it once. “Brought you soup.”

You blink. “You…what? Why?”

He shrugs once. “Cause you’re sick,” he says, now brushing past you to make his way into your living room. “And I’m nice.”

“Uh…no,” you nearly scoff, turning around to watch him flop down onto your sofa. “You are anything but nice to me, and you know it.”

“Well, I’m being nice today.”

“Why?”

“Yeah, why? Is it poisoned or something?”

You catch his wry smile as he begins to unpack the items and set them onto your coffee table. “Guess there’s only one way to find out, yeah?”

Hesitantly, you shut the door, and follow after him. Cautious of his intentions but drawn to the smell of the delicious food.

He hands you a bowl and some cutlery – which you take rather tentatively – before he straightens up and stares at you. “Are you gonna sit down?”

“I don’t know,” you admit, eyeing the only spot available beside him on the couch. “Are you still gonna be an asshole?”

“Probably.”

You huff but catch yourself smirking. “Fine, but scoot over.”

With an amused exhale of his own, he does as instructed, moving toward the edge of the sofa to make room before sitting down as well.

Your small apartment fills with a rather uncomfortable quiet as the two of you begin to dig into your food. The silence accompanied by faint slurps and sips that almost make you smile.

And it feels weird to be here with him like this. Relaxing on the couch, eating some soup like you don’t despise each other.

Perhaps you’d even enjoy his company under any other circumstance.

Clearing your throat, you angle your body toward his, studying his profile as his eyebrow raises. “Why are you here? Really?”

He shifts in your direction as well, grinning deviously from behind his takeout container. “Told you, I’m being nice—”

“Wrong. You’re never nice. Besides, you just accused me of hiding from you, so I don’t exactly think we’re on the best of terms.”

This makes his amusement fade, a subtle frown beginning to form as he shrugs one shoulder up in a nonchalant manner. “I don’t know. I guess it’s an apology.”

“For what?”

“For saying that,” he admits, almost quietly. Avoiding your eye as he stares at his noodles. “And maybe I kind of thought you were lying and wanted to see for myself.”

“Would you like me to vomit for you? Will that prove I’m actually unwell?”

He smiles again. “Nah, I’m good—”

“Really, it’s no trouble. I’ll do it right now, all over your lap—”

“All right,” he groans, leaning back with a crinkled nose. “Ew. No. I believe you, Princess. Fuck’s sake.”

Satisfied, you nod once. “Great. Now, onto my next question. How the hell did you get my address?”

“How do you think?” His expression is mischievous. “Got it from your file.”

“What? Why do you have access to my file?”

“Cause Prescott’s security system is way too easy to hack,” he says simply. “And I knew you’d never tell me.”

“Right. Because we don’t do that.”

“We don’t,” he agrees. “But we’re not fucking anymore, so it’s fine.”

“Oh, is it?”

“Yeah.”

“And how exactly does that work?”

“Because,” he begins, setting his things down on the coffee table, “if we’re not fucking, that means there’s no chance of you getting all clingy and attached.”

Your eyes narrow. “Uh-huh.”

“Which means we can hang out without you falling for me,” he finishes, rather smugly. “So it’s fine.”

“Just because we aren’t fucking doesn’t mean we’re friends,” you argue. “I still hate you.”

“I know. I hate you, too.”

Yet for some reason, you both smile.

“Now what’s the real reason?” you urge, nodding your chin at him. “Honestly. Why are you really here?”

He takes a beat to mull this over, standing from the sofa to collect his trash and take it to your kitchen. “Told you,” he finally says before tossing away his things. “You’re sick, and I felt bad.”

“Is that all?”

Another long pause settles between you as he readjusts the hood over his curls and saunters over to your window seat. “I didn’t want you to be hiding from me,” he admits as he slumps down, eyes flicking out into the dark night. “So I wanted to make sure we were good.”

You study him silently, taking in the way his hands disappear into the large pocket on his abdomen. “Yeah, we’re good,” you quietly reply.

He nods once but keeps his attention on the city. “Good. Cause you don’t have to hide, you know. We’re fine.”

“Yeah, I know. I just said that.”

His body lifts and falls with a small chuckle before he props his legs up onto the cushions and tosses his arms over his knees. “Well, you seemed pissed.”

“Well, I wasn’t the one that threw a hissy fit and fled from the car,” you retort. “In fact, I’m the one that politely agreed and let you go.”

“Right, but you were pissy about it. I could tell.”

“You are so full of shit.”

He laughs again. “I just don’t want you to be mad at me.”

“Oh, I am. But not for that.”

He looks over. “Yeah?”

“Yeah. You’re annoying, and you’re rude, and you’re so fucking pretentious,” you list, fighting a grin. “But you have a right to keep things to yourself, and I shouldn’t have asked. So…I’m sorry.”

He nods once, as if acknowledging the apology before returning his gaze to the window. “S’fine.”

Another lull drifts into the conversation, minutes passing by before you notice his expression shift.

“It’s not you,” he murmurs, and your eyebrows lift.

“What?”

He shifts a bit before clearing his throat. “It’s not you, I just…I don’t talk about it. Or…her.”

Her.

The first piece to the rather large puzzle sitting before you, and you feel your breath catch as you await the rest.

You notice the way he hesitates. The reflection of the night sky in his glasses. The nervous tapping of his fingers.

“Cause if I don’t talk about it, then I don’t have to think about it,” he whispers. “And if I don’t think about, then I don’t feel like putting my fucking fist through a wall, you know?”

“I know,” you answer quietly. “You don’t have to, it’s okay.”

He snorts to himself, leaning forward. “She never should have been in that fucking car. I was supposed to drive her. She was supposed to be with me.”

And even without much context, you feel your stomach wrench, already anticipating what might have happened.

“But she was late,” he says. And it’s angry, the way he speaks. Resentful. “She was out with her friends, and she was late to meet me, and I had shit to do. So I told her. I told her I couldn’t take her to the fucking party she wanted to go to. Because I didn’t want to be out all fucking night. I wanted to get my shit done and go to bed.”

You feel your throat run dry, tears beginning to form as you watch him recall the memory.

“I told her to get an Uber,” he continues, aggravated at first before it settles into something soft and somber. “I made her get into that car, and I watched her go. And I didn’t fucking care. Because I wanted to stay home, so I made her go by herself, and it fucking…and she didn’t…”

Your feet desperately want to carry you to him. To provide him some sort of comfort as he keeps his glare on the city horizon.

But you stay seated on the sofa, waiting for whatever he might offer next as he takes a deep breath.

“And she was just gone,” he murmurs, the air in the room shifting instantly. “She was fucking gone not even an hour later.”

The first drop slips down your cheek before you can wipe it away.

He exhales an amused laugh, the corner of his mouth twitching up. “And I always think how funny it is that the last thing she ever said to me was, ‘Sleep well, H.’ And I haven’t slept well since.”

Now, he looks to you. Studying you almost sadly as you sit in wait.

“And then there was you,” he says. “You, and your shitty ass jokes, and your cocky little grin. You were everywhere. Every day. Sitting across from me, asking if I wanted to split a fucking everything bagel.”

You’re almost tempted to smile, but the truth of what he’s saying cuts too deep.

“And I hated it,” he admits, eyes flicking between yours. “I fucking hated it because you made me forget. Whenever I would talk to you, I would forget. I would just stare at you as you rambled on and on about the algorithm and the fucking API, and I wouldn’t think about her, and I’d forget how fucking angry I was.”

He smiles almost wryly, making your insides twist.

“And I didn’t want to forget,” he tells you. “I wanted to be angry. I wanted to punish myself for what I’d done. Because I didn’t deserve to forget. I didn’t deserve to be happy. Especially with you.”

You sit up, wrestling with the temptation to argue, but he’s already looking back out the window.

“So, yeah, maybe hating you was easier. And maybe fucking you was selfish, but it felt like the only choice. Because sex is just sex. And if I kept you at a distance – at least in some ways – I wouldn’t have to lose you, too.”

You stand and make your way for the window seat, settling in front of him as he turns to watch you. He looks like he wants to roll his eyes, perhaps in an attempt to avoid your pity, but you lean forward, nonetheless.

“You know it’s not your fault, right?” you whisper, ignoring his amused expression. “You don’t deserve to be punished for something you couldn’t control.”

He smirks, but you can see the hint of sadness written between the lines of his face. “Thanks, Dr. Phil. I’ll keep that in mind.”

But you don’t let him tease his way out of this, instead settling your hands atop his knees to recapture his attention. “I’m serious, Harry. I know she wouldn’t blame you. How can you blame yourself?”

His smug grin falters for half a second. “Because there’s no one else to blame.”

A lump lodges in your throat as you scoot a bit closer. “Exactly. It was an accident. Unfair and uncontrollable. But it was never your fault. It was never your burden to carry.”

He leans his head back against the wall, but his attention never leaves you. Almost as though he’s afraid to look away.

“You can hate me,” you tell him. “I don’t mind that. Hating you is easier for me, too. But you can’t punish yourself for this. You can’t keep yourself from being happy. Not when you deserve it more than anybody I know.”

And maybe this is the first time you’ve ever really understood him. The first time you’ve felt truly connected to the man before you – even more so than when he was inside of you.

Because suddenly, things don’t feel so heavy. The world doesn’t seem so dark. And maybe, just maybe…he’s not so bad.

He drops his legs and sits up to reach for you. A large palm slipping around the back of your neck while you suck in a quiet breath and lean away.

“No,” you whisper, making his eyebrows raise. “I’m sick.”

He laughs, almost as though enchanted by your response. That charming dimple reemerging. “I don’t care.”

“Well you should,” you argue. “Seriously, it’s gross over here. There’s snot and I’ve been coughing all day—”

“Tink,” he murmurs, moving closer, attention dropping to your lips. “Stop talking.”

So…you do.

You let his mouth press to yours, settling into the feel of his touch. Something you weren’t sure you’d ever get to feel again. And despite everything else…you’re content.

He kisses your top lip. Your bottom lip. Steals a breath right from your lungs before nudging his nose with yours. “I still hate you.”

Your fingers tangle into the dark hoodie on his chest. “Yeah. I hate you, too.”

He smiles.

You aren’t sure what to expect come Monday morning. After all, you’re never sure what to expect with Harry.

You left things…friendly but undecided. As far as you know, nothing has changed. Harry is still the arrogant twat you’re forced to tolerate, and maybe that’s all he’ll ever be.

But maybe…you’re okay with that.

If you never fuck him again, perhaps that’s not the worst thing. Becoming his frenemy is decidedly less exhausting than being anything else. And you suppose you don’t want much more than that. At least not right now. You’re happy to hate him for as long as he’ll let you.

But you aren’t sure how he’ll feel about his admission in the light of day. Maybe he’ll regret sharing something so personal. Maybe he’ll resent you for knowing it. Maybe he’ll request the two of you never speak again.

Lucas does his best to engage in small talk with you as you anxiously await Harry’s arrival. Politely ignoring the way you continue to check your watch and glance toward his desk.

In fact, you eventually become so engrossed in the conversation with the friendly newcomer that you miss that aforementioned ball of thunder striding through the lab.

Nothing seems out of the ordinary. He throws his things down and slouches into his chair to begin working. Not bothering with a greeting or even a look of acknowledgement.

Truth be told, you aren’t sure whether to be relieved or disappointed.

And then the lunch hour begins. You assume he’ll disappear to the cafeteria as usual to grab a sandwich before returning to hide himself away in the lab.

Yet today is different. Today he stands up, turns around, and steps up to where you’re sitting.

Before you can even turn around, he dips down, and whispers, “Supply closet. Five minutes.”

With that, he’s gone. Slipping between the computers and desks before disappearing into the hallway as a smile stretches across your face.

After anxiously counting the seconds, you begin to follow. Double checking to make sure no one pays you any mind.

Once you’re satisfied, you make your way to the closet, and knock twice.

The door swings open, and you barely get the chance to offer a greeting before he’s tugging you inside, flinging the door shut, and pushing you up against it.

His lips find yours and it’s anxious. His kisses are desperate and rushed but so fucking addictive.

His hands are on your waist while yours disappear into his hair. His glasses are nudged out of place but neither of you care to stop and fix them. Instead groaning eagerly as he sucks on your tongue.

His hips press to yours, the subtle but familiar bulge hard against your thigh as you drop your head back and whimper. Anxiously pleading with him through a pointed look.

The flick of the button on your jeans is fast and practiced. The material pooling around your ankles while he works to tug his own pants down.

Two fingers hook onto the crotch of your panties to pull them aside before he slides the long digits through. Feeling just how frantic you really are.

He kisses you again as he slides them inside, curling and pumping just so. Smirking when he hears your arousal echo between the walls.

Nipping at your bottom lip, he whispers, “This doesn’t change anything. I still hate you.”

Sighing contently at the way his thumb massages your clit, you say, “Good. I hate you, too.”

He snorts. “Sure, Princess. Is that why you’re so fucking wet?”

To accentuate his point, he thrusts to the knuckle, stroking a particular spot that makes your toes curl and your eyes roll back.

“S’fucking pathetic,” he murmurs, glancing down, “how easy it is to play with you. Don’t have to do anything, do I? Just have to tease you a little and you’ll soak my fucking hand.”

Your fingers curl into his shirt, either as an act of defiance or out of need for stability. You aren’t sure.

“Cause you like it, don’t you?” he continues, moving his kisses to your neck. “Gets you off to be insulated. Degraded. Get all wet and squirmy at the thought of me putting you in your place, yeah?”

You don’t want to agree with him, but you both know he’s right. Even now, the cold cadence in which he speaks makes your legs shake.

“Yeah,” he answers for you in a soft but smug hum. “Know you do. Know you just wanna be put on your knees. Where you belong.”

With this thought, he pulls his fingers from your pussy, leaving you to wilt while he tugs his cock out.

There’s not much care as he swiftly and almost angrily tugs your leg up and throws it around his hip. He offers no words of reassurance or looks of encouragement while the tip drags through your folds before slowly disappearing into your cunt.

He ignores your strangled inhale, forehead finding yours as he grits, “Maybe I should do that next. Wrap your pretty ponytail around my fist while I fuck your throat.”

Your lashes flutter shut, nails scraping down his arms.

“Bet you’d like that, wouldn’t you, Tink?” He pauses for only a moment to let you adjust. “Like it when I make tears run down your face, yeah?”

However, you can’t offer him any reply. Instead focusing on the familiar ache that accompanies the stretch of his large size.

He pushes in a bit more, wary of your reaction, but overcome with pleasure at the way you take him. “You do,” he decides, that smile returning. “Can feel your little pussy clenching around me. Is that what you want, Princess? Want me to be mean to you?”

Truth be told, you suppose it is. Anything else wouldn’t feel right.

His hand raises to your throat, fingers curling around the delicate and soft skin of your neck before he squeezes once. Keeping your head pressed against the door.

“Take me,” he murmurs harshly before burying himself all the way. Ignoring your gasps and whines. “Fucking take me, Tink. Just like that. S’a good fucking girl. Always behave so well for me, hm? Just for me. Nobody else.”

He sets a slow but hard pace. Looking down at where his cock disappears into your pussy with a dazed look in his eye.

“Do you think about him, Princess?” he asks you next, giving your throat another squeeze. “D’ya think about your precious fucking Lucas when I fuck you? Or do you think about him when you’re all alone? Trying to get yourself off?”

Your mouth opens, ready to reply, but all that follows his remark is a desolate and strained whimper.

“Or do you think about me?” His lips ghost along the tender skin below your ear. Breathing softly before kissing the spot sweetly. A stark contrast to the vile way he speaks. “Think about how good I am to you…how I take care of you. Picture my hands, my voice, my fucking cock.”

And he’s right. In every fantasy, you see his face, first and foremost. Whisper his name into the air of your room as your fingers curl into your cunt.

It’s always him.

“Say it,” he murmurs now, offering another gentle kiss to your neck. “Tell me I’m the only one. Fucking tell me I’m the only one you cum for.”

Your fingernails move to scrape down his scalp, tangling in his soft curls as you subtly keep him in your arms.

You’re not too surprised by this request. Even if the two of you might never be anything more than friends, you imagine he needs to know. He needs to hear that even after everything, you still choose him.

You’re tempted to taunt him with a quippy retort. Egg him on, tell him he’s nothing compared to your vibrator.

Yet you find yourself whispering, “Only you, Har. Only ever you.”

For a moment, he stills. As if overcome by the words, the admission.

You pull him further into your embrace. “Always you.”

With a smirk, he leans back just far enough to meet your eye.

And you both smile.

“That’s my fucking girl.”

🥹 I can't believe we've made it to the end of the main series!!! No they're not technically together right now, BUT!!! There will be extras and who knows what they might get up to later ALSFJEFD

Thank you so much to everyone for reading and being so kind, I appreciate you all more than you know!!! You have my entire heart to heaven and back!!!! AND TINK, HARRY, AND I WILL SEE YOU AGAIN VERY SOON!! Specifically for the Halloween extra HAHAHA 😭♥️♥️

Next Part:

~ A-Mazing* (Halloween Extra)

Previous Part:

~ Jealous* (Pt. 4)

~ Full 404 Masterlist

~ Main Masterlist

~ Blurb Masterlist

Taglist: @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @keepdrivingkisses @swiftmendeshoran @tiredinwinter @straightontilmornin @justlemmeadoreyou @harrysdaydreams @tiaamberxx @peterparker1sgf @myfavfanficsever @littlenatilda @vamprry @fdl305 @tchalametishot @ssaama @indierockgirrl @likeapplejuicenpeach @vane28282 @lukesaprince @closureesny @lc-fics @0nlythrowharrybeaux @daphnesutton @love-letters-to-uranus @kirstiea05 @lovrave @princessprongs @nuggetdean @storyschanging

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second-star-to-motunui · 1 month ago

Text

It’s Going To Be Ok

✨feat. Riddle Rosehearts, Leona Kingscholar, Azul Ashengrotto, Kalim Al-Asim, Vil Schoenheit, Idia Shroud, Malleus Draconia✨

Summary: They found you trying to hurt yourself and stopped you. Now they’re doing their best to remind you that you aren’t alone.

reader is referred to as Yuu (they/them)

tw// self harm, eating disorders, suicide attempts

note: life hasn’t been easy lately. most of what’s written is based on personal experiences. I wrote this to comfort myself, and I hope it can bring you comfort too.

“Yuu? Are you crying? What happened—hey, hey stop that, stop doing that!”

Riddle stopped Yuu from scratching, their arms red and bleeding from their nails. He rushed them to the infirmary and it was there that they broke down and spilled everything.

Riddle didn’t know what to say in the moment, but he hugged Yuu and let them cry into his shoulder. He apologized for all the horrible things they were dealing with and swore to them that they could come to him if they needed.

He makes it a part of his routine to check on Yuu after that and provide anything they need, from assistance with studying to even just a hug.

“How has your day been? Good? I see… I bought these gloves for you. Anytime you feel like scratching just put them on, then you can’t hurt yourself. Please come to me if you feel like hurting yourself again. We can have tea and talk instead.”

“The hell? What the hell are you doing?! PUT THAT DOWN!”

Leona had come to the botanical garden for an afternoon nap when he smelled blood. He found Yuu hiding behind a tree with a switchblade. They had scars on their arms and they were about to slit their wrist before Leona caught them.

Yuu dropped the blade and burst into tears. Leona took them to his dorm room and took care of them. He was scolding them for doing something so dangerous, but it was clear that he cared and was genuinely concerned for them.

If he wasn’t already around Yuu often, he’s glued to their hip now. He’ll eat lunch with them, nap around them and wait for them outside of their classroom so he can walk with them.

“Look at me. Look at me. You are not worthless, ok? Whoever put that idea in your head, ignore them. And if there’s somebody bothering you, you better tell me and I’ll deal with it, ok? I’m here for you.”

“Yuu, I’ve been looking for… Are you alright? You’re not fine, you’re barely standing! YUU!”

Azul caught Yuu before they could collapse. He asked when they had eaten last only to learn that Yuu had been deliberately starving themself from stress.

Azul gently escorted them to Monstro Lounge to get them something to eat. He was reminded of his own struggles with eating when he was young, and he couldn’t bear to see it on Yuu now.

He sends messages to Yuu throughout the day to remind them to take care of themself. Jade and Floyd keep a close eye on Yuu too. If they get even a whiff that Yuu is falling into bad habits, then it’s off to Octavinelle for lunch.

“Angelfish, may I speak with you? Listen… I know what it’s like to hate who you see in the mirror, but trust me when I say that hurting yourself won’t make it better. If you ever need to talk, I’m here for you. We can even do it over lunch if that helps.”

“Why are you crying? Was it something I said? Wait, wait, please don’t do that, please stop! I can fix this!”

Kalim doesn’t understand why, but one second he was talking to Yuu and the next they had burst into tears and started hitting themself in the head.

He stopped Yuu and hugged them tight, offering to do something fun to cheer them up. He tried dancing with them, playing a game, but nothing seemed to help. Jamil ended up having to step in.

In the end, (after a difficult conversation with Jamil) Kalim learned that the best thing he could do was let Yuu feel their feelings rather than ignore them with positivity. He doesn’t like seeing Yuu cry, but he’s more than happy to hold their hand through it.

“Hey so… Jamil said there’s something wrong in your brain that makes you sad all the time? No, no, not wrong! Uh… different? … A disorder? I see… well, if you want to talk about it I’m here to listen. Just… please don’t hit yourself like that again ok? Hit me instead! No? If you change your mind you can do it, I can take it!”

“What do you have there? Don’t try to hide it, give it here! Are you an idiot?! Don’t you realize what this is?!”

When Vil snatched the potion bottle from Yuu’s hand, he really hoped they genuinely didn’t know they were about to drink a deadly poison. Yuu began to cry and Vil’s heart broke because he realized they knew exactly what they were doing.

Vil has a long talk with Yuu about their troubles. They hated their hair, they hated their body, they hated themself. Vil takes their hands and swears to them that he’ll do whatever he can to help them. But first he has to know where they got the poison so he can assure they’ll never get their hands on another one.

Self care days become a weekly event. Light exercises, home spa days, clothes shopping, Vil will even allow himself a cheat day for desserts if it means bringing Yuu comfort.

“Oh no, have you been pulling your hair out again? It’s ok, no tears, let me see… Ah, it’s not as bad as it was last time. Don’t apologize, darling. Hair grows back. Come, let’s see how we can take care of it now and you can tell me what’s on your mind.”

“Yuu? Are you here I brought… Yuu? Oh no—hey! Wake up! Wake up! Ortho, I need help!”

Idia found Yuu unconscious on their bedroom floor, having swallowed half a bottle of pills. Together, him and Ortho get Yuu to a hospital and don’t leave their side until they awake.

Idia beats himself up so much after that because he knew Yuu was in a bad place mentally, he just never thought they’d do something so drastic. He wraps them in the biggest hug when they wake up, sobbing and apologizing and promising to be a better friend.

Yuu spends a few weeks in Ignihyde once they’re discharged from the hospital. Idia doesn’t say much, but he does watch their favorite shows and plays their favorite games with them.

“… You’re moving back to your dorm today, right? Ok… um—t-this is for you! It’s a new phone, I know the one Crowley got you sucks ass. Just… call me if something happens again. Or Ortho! We’ll be there for you ok? W-We care about you…”

“The view from here is lovely, isn’t it? You should watch your step, the fall would be quiet devastating.”

Malleus appeared at Yuu’s side before they could take another step towards the cliffs edge, holding their shoulder firmly and keeping them in place.

He talks about meaningless things for a little while before he gently holds Yuu’s hand and invites them to join him on a walk and get some ice cream. They leave together, right after Yuu has short cry in Malleus’s arms.

Malleus drops by Ramshackle every single day after that. Sometimes it’s for ice cream dates, sometimes it’s to invite them to Gargoyle Studies Club activities. Often he’ll just be there while Yuu does whatever. Yuu doesn’t know it, but Malleus waits until he knows they’re safely in bed at the end of each day before he leaves them.

“Thank you for spending time with me today. I do enjoy your company… I know human lives are rather short compared to that of a fae’s, but please don’t try to shorten it. You aren’t a burden. You’re wonderful. I’ll remind you that you’re wonderful every day if I have to. You’re very precious to me.”

#twisted wonderland #twst #twst x reader #twst x gn reader #riddle rosehearts #leona kingscholar #azul ashengrotto #kalim al asim #vil schoenheit #idia shroud #malleus draconia #twst housewardens #tw ed disorder #tw self harm #tw suicide attempts #ren writes

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ncis-nerd · 4 months ago

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Unforgettable Rain

Boss Wanda Maximoff x College Student Reader , Wanda x Nat , Slight Nat x Reader

about: wanda asks y/n to come in on her day off, to "file papers". is that it or did she want something more?

secret untold au

The rain trickled down your window, you had it slightly cracked open. You didn’t want the rain to come inside but you still wanted to be able to hear it.

You loved the sound of rain, it was so comforting. It reminded you of your childhood when you would go outside in the rain with your older sister and father. You’d dance like no one was watching, it was so fun. You missed them so much everyday.

Especially when it rains, it was never quiet when it rained, not only because of the sound of the rain but also because of the laughter and giggles that escaped their lips when you’d dance so freely.

You sat curled up, drinking a warm cup of hot chocolate as you watched the rain. That’s when your phone got an alert. You got a message from Wanda, your boss.

Since that first day she would send you on tasks outside of her office, it felt like she was avoiding you. Her face once so warm and welcoming now felt so cold and distant. You were a little hurt by this, but you still had to do your job. Even if the two of you didn’t get along.

(5:38 P.M.) W. Maximoff: “Hey Y/N, are you able to come into the office? I know it is a bit late so I understand if you cannot.”

(5:39 P.M.) Y/N: “No, no it’s fine. I’m not doing anything, I can come in.”

(5:40 P.M.) W Maximoff: “Perfect, thank you darling.”

You threw on a hoodie, and changed into presentable pants before leaving for the office. Your mind still went back to your first day where you made a fool of yourself in front of your new boss. What a great way to meet her, by falling for her on the steps outside her own building.

When you look up, you find yourself at the office. It’s a quick walk from your apartment as you don’t live that far from the office. You noticed that the rain had stopped when you left your house. You however, failed to bring an umbrella with you. It had slipped your mind that the rain could start back up when you left your house.

You knocked on her door, “Wanda? It’s me.” You spoke softly. She opened her door to let you in. She wasn’t alone in here, there was a woman sitting on her couch. Not just any woman, the woman from her painting. Her wife. She was wearing a suit, her red hair in curls, it looked so free and loose.

The woman noticed your staring, that’s when her raspy voice spoke up “Hi there, my name is Natasha. My wife told me about you, Y/N Y/L/N right?” You nodded, her voice was so hypnotizing, you bit your lip.

“So, I hope my wife hasn’t made you feel uncomfortable but the reason I called you in on your day off was to ask you if you could file these papers for me?” She asked, handing you a box of papers in it. You nodded, reaching for the box. Her lips opened but no words came out, it looked as if she had more she wanted to say.

You found it a bit strange that your boss had asked you to come in on your day off just to file papers, especially since there were other employees that could do that task for her You shrugged it off and got to filing.

You felt Wanda and Natasha's eyes glancing at each other, as if they were having a silent conversation.

That's when Natasha finally spoke, Wanda's eyes darken. “So, Y/N.. I know we haven't known you that long but do you happen to be occupied next Friday evening?” Natasha hummed.

This sparked your curiosity as you had no plans that day, or at all. You were an introvert who happened to protect your peace a little too much so now you hardly have a social life.

The two women waited for your response. “No, nothing that I could think of. Why?” You asked.

“Well, my wife wanted to ask you if you would join us at this dinner party for their company. It's a business party.” Natasha's raspy voice spoke.

Really? They wanted you there? You were just some new intern but this warmed your heart that Wanda wanted you there.

“I-I would love that! But what should I wear? What's the dress code?” You stuttered, your anxiety running through your head.

What if you embarrassed yourself there too? What if your clothes didn't match the vibe? Your thoughts were racing. Natasha and Wanda could sense your anxiety.

Natasha quickly silenced those thoughts. She brought her thumb to stroke your cheek. “Well it's moreso just dressing professional but if it would make you feel comfortable, you can match with us, Detka.” Natasha smiled. Her touch was so warm, it made you feel better.

Detka? You scrunched your nose trying to figure out the meaning behind the foreign word. “Don't worry about that, sweetheart. Natasha and I will be wearing burgundy. You're welcome to match us if you want, darling.” Wanda spoke up, placing a hand on your shoulder.

You nodded and went back to filing the papers like your boss asked. After a while, Wanda checks her watch. “So late already?” Wanda spoke, shutting her computer.

You looked up as the two women packed up their stuff. “Thank you so much for coming in darling.” Wanda sighed, rubbing her temple.

Natasha frowned, sensing her wife's incoming headache. That's when you noticed the rain had started back up. Great.

"Are you okay?” You can see Natasha mouth this to Wanda. Wanda nods in response as they walk with you, out of the building.

“Oh gosh, do you see this rain Nat?” Wanda spoke, an ounce of concern in her face. Natasha nodded, “Yeah. Say, Y/N how are you getting home?” Natasha asked you.

“Oh I'm walking, I don't live too far.” You responded, gathering your things as you handed Wanda the box of newly filed papers.

“In this rain? Nonsense, let us give you a drop.” Natasha hummed. She didn’t want you to get wet or possibly sick in this terrible rain.

“Oh, it's okay you don't have to.” You immediately responded. You knew that it was a short walk and nothing new as you have walked in the rain (and danced in it) multiple times.

“Darling, we are giving you a ride. End of story.” Wanda spoke firm but you could tell that she just cared about you. Even behind that wall she ahd built up.

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shawnxstyles · 1 year ago

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the only one

DATE: JANUARY 2, 2024

summary: you go on your first date with peter, and it ends even better than you could have ever expected. ;)

request: yes!

words: 6.3k

warnings: SMUT (f-receiving [oral, fingering, multiple orgasms], protected sex, dirty talk), language, and the most gentlemanly man.

note: i cannot believe i’m finally writing another gyno!peter after all this time… anyway, this is NOT an actual series, simply just more situations/scenes of these two together!

gynecologist!peter x patient!y/n

–

Every date that you’ve been on in the past never made you this nervous. You didn’t spend two hours just deciding on what to wear and taking an extra hour to prepare yourself. You worked for a fashion magazine, editing and reviewing comments and critiques. You were surrounded by clothes and creativity all day, but struggled to pick a “first-date look” from your closet. You swore you read something about that before…

You never thought first dates were anything more than a simple introduction, a first impression of another human being. It was one of the foundations of the question, “Could I get along well enough with this person to go on a second date?”.

You had only been on two first dates: one with your ex, who you were with for four months, and recently with that guy from your work. The second one was mainly just a hook-up, and the first one obviously led to some type of relationship that didn’t work out in the end. Maybe you didn’t have enough experience in the dating world to be wondering if the amount of nerves you had right now was healthy.

Your hands were clammy as you strapped on your black heels. You noticed you were swallowing more frequently than normal, and you didn’t understand why. When you looked in the mirror, your hands flattened out your black dress more times than you could count, ridding wrinkles that aren’t even there.

After your appointment a few weeks ago, you had texted Peter. More specifically, you texted him the next day. Immediately after simply saying hello and your name, you thought of how many other people he may have given his phone number to. Or worse, how many people he had fingered in his office… You started worrying if you shouldn’t have texted him at all because he was a doctor. He was probably too busy for anything. It was just a nice gesture, maybe?

But an hour later, in the evening, he had texted you back with a short apology. He was working a little past the clock in order to get more doctor stuff done. Even his texts were sweet with a dab of charm. How do women control themselves around him?

Or maybe it was just you, and you were a fucking weirdo.

Yeah it could be that.

Peter and you went on to texting every now and then to texting daily. Texting him was something to look forward to after a long day at work. It also became pretty clear that he wasn’t texting anyone else because well, he was working throughout the day doing doctor stuff while you were doing editor stuff. He would even text you during his lunch break and that always made your heart skip to see his message in the middle of the day.

One night in particular, you were complaining to Peter (yes, you had gotten to the point where you could complain about little inconveniences) about your sink malfunctioning. Instead of asking you to send pictures of the pipes under the sink, he had you FaceTime him. It was the first time you guys have ever called and the second time you’ve ever seen his face, so your heart was a little race-y. But when that charming, wide grin flashed on your screen, he easily slipped into conversation. Peter helped you fix your sink with a little wrench movement along with replacing a broken screw through the phone.

It wasn’t awkward. It was relieving.

You didn’t have to force a certain personality in order to engage in a conversation with him. You felt more yourself than you ever have when talking to him, flowing easily like two streams into one. You hadn’t even realized how late it was by the time you guys ended the call until he was gone. The serenity of your place felt a little more emptier than usual without the sound of his beautiful accent from your speaker. It was nearly midnight by the time you went to bed, wondering how things would be if you and Peter took your friendship a bit further.

Would talking always be this simple? Would he always be this charming?

After that night, you would make excuses to call him. He never denied you, even after he told you he had a long day at the hospital. You guys were not only texting now, but calling daily. You would get excited for his texts and calls, looking forward to talking to him. That’s when you realized you wanted more with him. It felt like you knew each other forever, but it had merely been a few weeks. You wanted to go on a date with him, wanted to be with him in person again. And of course, your mind wandered to the thought of how he is in bed.

If he was that good with just his quick fingers, then how good was he with more space and time? You began to dream about it.

Then he finally asked you. It was so sudden, you honestly didn’t expect it.

You were debriefing your plans for the week and what you had to do at work.

“Sometimes, I feel like my life is on repeat,” You chuckle, but it sounds tired.

“You’re always doing the same thing every week?” Peter questions. He found that he loves just listening to you talk for hours about whatever. He prompts you with questions, and you always answer thoroughly. It’s like an unspoken routine for you two.

“I mean, it feels like that. I never have time to go out and do anything. And when I do, I don’t go out,” You half-smile to yourself as you look down at your lap. You sounded kind of lame, so you were trying not to cringe at yourself.

“You told me your agenda for this week, but what about Saturday and Sunday?”

“Oh, well, you know I don’t work on the weekends. Sometimes, I get extra stuff done at home, but only because I’m bored. I watch TV…” You squint your eyes, trying to think of things you do on the weekend when you’re not busy. “You know, I’m listening to what I’m saying, and I am so lame. God, I need a life outside of work.”

“You’re not lame. Just busy. Give yourself some credit,” he waves off your dig at yourself, and you don’t stop yourself from smiling. He’s just too nice. You can’t take your eyes off him through the small screen as he watches you back.

“Yeah, yeah. Enough about me. What are your weekend plans?” You definitely talk too much, so you always attempt to ask him questions back.

“Well, I was thinking of taking you out,” he very casually says, nonchalantly staring at you through the camera. “Unless you’re busy watching TV.”

“W-What?” Heat crawled up your neck and ears, skin flaming off of his quick words. He’s always charming and always confident with you, so why are you surprised he’s this smooth? You wonder if he’s been thinking about it for a while or if he just got the idea randomly. “Are you serious?”

“Yes. Unless you don’t want to. In that case, I am joking…”

“I want to, Peter,” You smile with the words. It feels impossible to lower your cheek muscles because of the giddiness coursing through you. “If I’m honest, I’ve kind of been waiting for you to ask me.”

“I was a little slow, yeah?”

“Yeah, both the turtle and the hare beat you to the finish line,” His wonderful laugh echoes through the speaker of your phone, and it fills you with warmth.

While other people have belittled you and forced you to be one way, Peter naturally allows you to be yourself. Your wit flourishes, and your insecurities fade into unique parts of you. Whether you two are friends or more, you need more people like Peter in your life.

After you two had confirmed the plans for Saturday, you two both went to bed when the call ended. When your head hits the pillow, it’s instantly filled with scenarios of you and Peter. Mostly how your first date might go. Is he the type to pull out a chair for you? Definitely. Would he pay without a second glance? Probably, knowing he has that doctor paycheck. Would he kiss you after walking you back to your door? Maybe, maybe not.

But he did finger-fuck you in his office, so nothing is really that impossible.

So, you let your mind wander for the rest of the night while you sleep peacefully. Yes, you had some great dreams.

–

Instead of texting you that he’s here, Peter knocks on your door. The sound itself made your heart accelerate instantly as you stride quickly to answer it. You’ve been overthinking all the ways that this day could go bad, seriously hoping that it doesn’t.

“Hey,” Peter says, clearly eyeing you up and down. He sounds slightly breathless, but not as if he just ran to your door. No, more like he’s speechless. But you could just be overanalyzing every little detail.

“Hey,” As you repeat the word back, you’re both silent for a second. It’s not awkward as it is tense. You’re both just observing and taking in the appearance of the other, appreciating the time and effort in the looks. Peter’s wearing a navy button-up with black slacks. The first two buttons are undone, giving you a peek at his seemingly smooth chest. He’s not wearing a jacket, so you get a view of his arms. From the way the rich fabric stretches around his muscles, it’s obvious that he works out. He just keeps getting better. He continues to check more of your boxes. “Let me just go grab my purse really quick.”

You snatch your bag off of the coffee table after checking you have everything. What if his one flaw is that he won’t pay for at least half the dinner? You must prepare for all the possible outcomes.

“You look brilliant,” You can see him swallow before his compliment, and you wonder if he’s as nervous as you are. He never makes it a point to look even the slightest bit unsure, which you admire. He’s very charming, which takes a lot of confidence, and he’s very good at it. When he asked you out in his office, you saw that persona slip just a tad, enough for you to see that he is human and that he gets nervous too. You found him adorable. You still do.

“You as well,” You blush as you shut the door behind you. The two of you walk to his car, and of course, he opens the door for you. You can’t stop blushing. “Seriously, how do you make such a simple outfit look so good?”

“Unbutton it,” he answers before gently shutting your door closed. Your mind instantly went to places that it shouldn’t have, making your skin burn. You thought about unbuttoning his shirt slowly and sensually until it fell down his bulky arms. You thought about unbuttoning his slacks and palming his cock. He would be so hard for you, and you didn’t hesitate to get on your knees. God, you wished it was real because you truly would not hesitate for this man.

You shake your head, attempting to rid yourself of those dirty thoughts, so you can have a peaceful date. A first date with Peter.

–

When you guys get to the restaurant, that small voice in the back of your head expects it to be awkward the second you sit down. But once again, you were proven incorrect.

Peter instantly engages in a smooth conversation, asking how your week was overall. You told him all about work and the papers you’re reviewing, and he told you about some of his patients. Every time he mentions anything doctor related, it just makes you swoon. It’s impressive how intelligent he is, and even more so how hard he works. It’s obvious he loves what he does, and you never realized that loving one’s passion was a must-have in your partner checklist.

You also just love the way he talks. His accent makes your skin hot and your spine tingle. Your mind wanders to places it shouldn’t more often than not. And his gaze never leaves yours, only when talking to the waiter when ordering.

There is never a dull moment. Even as you were patiently waiting for your food, you still found things to talk about.

“What do you think they’re celebrating?” he asks, observing two people in the back corner with smiles on their faces.

“They’re dressed nicely, and they’re holding hands too much to be together for that long. I’m going to guess the three or four month anniversary.”

“What about them?” he nudges his head in the direction of the people not too far from you two, sitting with straight faces.

“Oh, they’re not celebrating. Probably breaking up.”

“Who goes to such a nice restaurant for a break-up?”

“I don’t know. Sounds like rich people problems to me,” You joke, and you both share a chuckle. It feels nice to casually chat and people watch with somebody else. When your food arrives, you both eat with more adding silence, slipping in words slowly.

“Did I tell you you look really good tonight?” Peter changes the topic, eyes fixating back onto you.

“Yes… Thank you,” You feel yourself blushing all over your body. You use your napkin to wipe your lips, but you’re really using it to protect your face. It was so obvious what his words did to you, that’s probably why he said them. Suddenly, the room feels a little too hot, even just in your dress. “Took me a while to find out what to wear.”

“You could have worn a garbage bag and still looked great,” Peter says, causing you to roll your eyes.

“Oh, stop it. You’re such a charmer. What’s your game? What do you want?” Your words are playful, but the look in Peter’s eye seems more serious. More powerful and heated. Eyes you haven’t seen for a long time in another person, and it freezes you still. The only thing that’s countering the lust circling his irises is the uprising smirk on his lips.

“To take you home.”

Boy, was he a charmer.

“Don’t ask if I’m kidding because I’m not,” he adds, setting down his napkin on the table. He leans over, a curl falling onto his forehead. A hand reaches halfway across the white cloth and rests delicately on your hand. Even his touch was warm and soft, not forceful in any way. “If you want, I’d like to.”

“I…” You were speechless. You knew what your answer would be, but you were just starstruck. How can one person be so gentlemanly yet hot? Cocky yet so sweet? God really didn’t give anyone a chance when making Peter. “Yes, I would like that a lot.”

Your thumb rubs reassuring circles on his thumb while you smile like a fool. Peter’s smirk only got bigger as the night went on.

–

You talked. You laughed. You smiled.

But as he drove you to his house, you got nervous again. Maybe you guys would do something as normal as watch a movie. Maybe even cuddle a bit. But you really, really hoped it was more. Especially after your first meeting, you knew Peter wasn’t too shy about sexual matters. However, maybe he didn’t want to do that with you yet and just wanted to take things slow.

But his office…

When his hand was on yours on the table, your memory was brought back right to the moment of his fingers inside of you in the chair. You remembered the feeling of him pushing his digit in and out repeatedly and how good it felt when he removed his latex gloves. Your core rumbled with lust, getting off on the mere fantasy of it all.

When you arrive at his house, you both silently get out of the car. Besides the sound of nature, you could only hear your racing heart and how it was racking against your ribcage in intense beats. He unlocks his door, keying jingling while the breeze flows past. You’re hyper-aware of every noise as if Peter could hear your choppy breath. When he finally opens the door, he lets you in first and you smile, trying to not let your obvious nerves surface.

But you clearly fail when he points it out.

“What are you thinkin’ about?” Your eyes lock on his hands as he rests his key on his door side table and feet as he casually slips off his dress shoes. Everything about him was mesmerizing. You swear you could just watch a documentary of a regular day in his life and you could be starry-eyed.

“Bunch of things.” But it was really just one thing.

“Care to share?” Peter shifts to the kitchen and you follow him like a helpless dog, clutching your bag for dear life.

“I keep thinking about…the last time we were together,” the words fall from your mouth as you round the counter. You felt like you needed to create some distance between you two if you were going to admit something like that.

“What about it?” Peter’s knack to ask questions right now is making your face burn from embarrassment under his bright kitchen lights. He grabs two glasses and fills them up with fridge water without even asking if you wanted some.

“You know, the fun part,” You round the counter to reach the water, slowly taking a sip. When you set the glass down, your eyes don’t leave his chest. You’re too afraid to look into his eyes.

“I thought it was all pretty fun,” he says, placing down his own glass and taking one large step towards you “Especially the part where you came all over my hand.”

Your skin flames, eyes peering at him for a moment before dashing away. His finger slides beneath your chin to turn your face back to him. He could feel your radiating heat and could see the widening of your pupils under the luminous lights.

“Were you thinking of that?” His finger directs your chin upwards, forcing you to look at him. His voice was low and husky, only for you to hear. “Because I haven’t stopped since the day I walked out of that room.”

“Peter…”

“Just say the word, honey, and I’ll kiss you right now.”

You could just melt into a puddle on the floor of his kitchen. His words are so sensual, there is no way you could ever say no to this man. He’s irresistible without trying too hard.

“Please,” You mustered out seemingly breathless while your eyes were locked into his surely.

He doesn’t miss the beat. His head turns as his lips crash against yours. Your lower back hits the island of the counter of marble, but you don’t flinch. His lips electrocute yours, sending jolts of energy coursing through your body like a shock. Your hands naturally find his neat yet messy styled hair on his nape, fingers rummaging through the curly ends. One of his hands holds your waist down from moving as if he already knows you’re antsy to grind on him. His other caresses your jaw in a stable position, the type of dominance you’ve been craving since that day in his office.

His hand goes underneath your thigh, leading you to wrapping your legs around his waist. You thought he was going to sit you on the counter, but he walked all the way to a bedroom without breaking the kiss.

Peter gently lays you on the bed, causing you to depart from the kiss. He wordlessly goes to unbutton his shirt, but you quickly sit up to do it. You’ve been thinking about doing it since he picked you up, so it only seems right that your fantasy comes true, right?

Just like you imagined, you slowly flicked off the buttons and delicately removed the fabric until it was a bundle of cloth on the floor. On the edge of the bed on your knees, you stare up at Peter with a lustful glint in your eye. That glowy look caused Peter to kiss you again, hungrier than before. His force makes you fall onto the mattress again, making you gasp. He trails down your neck in sloppy kisses, touching every inch of your neck and chest with his lips.

“Where did you get this dress?” You didn’t expect him to ask you that while he was groping your breasts through the material. You moan at the feeling of his rough thumbs on your nipples. It’s very distracting while you try to remember where you got the dress that is currently in the way.

“Um Zara? I-I don’t remember,” You moan loudly, not having time to conceal it as he suckles a mark on your neck.

“Do you like it?”

“What?”

“The dress.”

“S-Sure, yeah. It’s-It’s not my favorite, though,” His tousled hair tickles your face as he gets closer to your boobs.

“Maybe you should have worn a garbage bag.”

“Why?” You pull back a little, moving his head up so you can see his face. You thought maybe you would see some expression of disgust, but he only has pure enjoyment. His soft smile turns into a smirk that you’re growing really fond of. It means he’s about to do something hot.

“Because then I wouldn’t feel so bad about ripping it off of you.”

Just like that, the thin straps are easily snapped from his large hands while he yanks the long dress down your body and onto the floor. His mouth instantly went onto your nipple, sucking until he was satisfied with the raw peak of it. He repeated the same movement the opposite one until you were a panting mess, huffing and puffing from just his mouth on your chest.

You can tell he knows how to do this. Yes, he works in gynecology so it’s a benefit that he knows the female body inside and out. But he’s actually skilled in his technique. Although he is hungry and nearly primal, he takes his time with certain areas, making your body want him more and more each time. It’s incredibly smart, and you’re wondering why every man doesn’t know how to properly treat a woman.

You don’t even know your body the way he seems to know it.

His mouth is at your panties before you could even process it. Right when you think he’s about to widen your legs like you so desperately want him to, he stops when his hands rest on your knees gently. He had been going at a fast pace, but now, he’s slow and controlled. Taunting in a way. Torturing.

“I’m going to remove these now, yeah?” He knows you want it now because he has you in his bed right where you want to be. His tone is not as shy as it had been in the office. It’s more controlling yet still soft. “Words, Y/N.”

That demand was all too similar to his words back in the chair with his hands on your waist. He was about to pull off your underwear then for professional reasons, and now, he’s going to yank them off for selfish ones.

“Please take them off,” Just like you had then, you clenched around nothing. Just his sensual words that make you spiral into horny oblivion. Your wavering tone makes him smile as he tugs down the thin material from your legs, tossing them somewhere in the room.

Then he finally widens your legs, facing your aching pussy that hasn’t forgotten about him since all those weeks ago. You were throbbing and leaking to the damn bed sheets, but you couldn’t give a fuck less. You wanted his fingers, his mouth, his cock–anything that he was willing to give you.

“That day,” he starts, “I really wanted to taste you. You were dripping all over my fingers. It was so hard to stay professional.”

He leans down and gets really close to your cunt, inches away from doing what he really wants to do.

“You’ll let me taste you, right?” he asks in an innocent kind of way, but there’s hints of taunt in there. It makes your core burn, and you almost moan at the way his breath hits your center.

“Yes, please. Do whatever you want,” You say that because it’s true–he can do whatever he wants to you, and you would be grateful.

“So polite. So eager,” he kisses your thigh, dangerously close to you now, “And so, so wet.”

“Peter, please,” You were begging now, but you didn’t care. You would beg all night for Peter to touch you the way he did in his office. You’ve tried to replicate it, but it’s no use. You’ve been craving that feeling for weeks now, and he seems to be the only one who can get you there.

“So polite. Good girl.”

To your luck, he doesn’t say another word. He finally puts his mouth on your pussy by slurping up all of your juices. You immediately moan, just by the mere knowledge that his mouth is on you. His tongue slips through your folds all the way up to your clit. Peter suckles on it, feeling it throb in his mouth.

“Taste even better than I imagined,” You don’t know if his whispered words were meant to be heard by you, but you heard them. They caused you to clench right as his tongue slotted inside of you, desperate to taste more of you.

His large hands are pressed against the insides of your thighs, forcing you to stay spread for him. You can feel them ache, but nothing feels as prominent as his tongue inside of you. And then, just when it starts to feel good, he makes it feel even better. One of his digits finds your clit, circling pressure until you’re a moaning mess.

“Fuck, Peter. That’s… so good.”

His mouth pops off of you for a second to catch a breath. But he could honestly drown in the taste of you. He smoothly slides a finger to replace where his mouth was, filling you up just like in his office. Now, his mouth is sucking on your clit, needing to make it throb. You feel that feeling you’ve been chasing for the past few weeks building up in your stomach, and you know it’s not going to be long at all until you achieve it.

“Come. Show me what only I can make you do,” Peter grumbles, his words cascading over your body. The deep rumble of his voice tips you over the edge, causing you to come all over his fingers again. After cleaning up some of your orgasm, he lifts his mouth, but doesn’t remove his fingers. He continues to pump them in and out, even though you’re sensitive.

“So fuckin’ tight, and I haven’t even given you a second finger,” one of his fingers taps of your clit, causing you to gasp at how sensitive you are. “Can you give me another?”

“A-Another one?” You’re panting and sweating from just one, but he wants to give you another? Who is this man, and where has he been all your life? “I can’t.”

“Oh, but you can. The body is an amazing thing,” he inserts another finger into your cunt and increases his intensity on your nerves. You gasp again, moaning without caring how loud you are. “See, your clit makes you do that. And I love that.”

“Oh, Peter,” You helplessly whimpered. As he thrusts his fingers inside of you with that charming smile and a hint of a smirk, you already feel your high approaching you again. The sight and the feel of him was just too overwhelming. With each thrust of his fingers, his arms bulged, forearm veins popping deliciously. He was a sight for sore eyes.

“C’mon, baby. Give me another. Want to feel you clench around my fingers. Imagine it’s my cock. Imagine how big my cock is going to feel in your little, tight cunt.”

His words oozed sex. So it only made sense that you came not long after. Your release coated his skilled hand once again, and this time, he seemed satisfied with your two orgasms.

When you could finally catch your breath, you didn’t see him reaching for his belt like most men do. But you really, really wanted him to reach for his belt.

“Are you tired? How do you feel?” The tone in his voice was soft. He was easily able to change from sex Peter to caring Peter. Your heart melted at his concern.

“Tired, but good tired. I’ve only ever had three orgasms, and you just gave me two of them,” You laughed breathlessly while he chuckled. “Would I be selfish to ask for more?”

That made him laugh. It was wholehearted and deep, echoing throughout the room. “Not at all.”

And then he reaches for his belt. You feel your organs twist in that lustful, horny way that they do when he does anything. When all his clothes are discarded and you’re faced with his raging cock, you’re practically drooling. He was right when he said he was big; thick and veiny all along the sides. It seemed unfair, really.

He reaches over to the nightstand and grabs a condom, ripping it and rolling it on easily. You continue to watch him in awe as he strokes himself a few times over the condom. Truth be told, he’s already incredibly hard. The second he slips inside of you he fears he will come on the spot because of how tight you are.

But he leans over your body, elbows holding himself up. You can smell his fresh scent, full of pine and wood.

“Did I tell you you look beautiful tonight?” he whispers next to your ear, his warm breath hitting your skin, which gives you the shivers. Your hands trail up over his body until they’re resting on his broad shoulders. You can feel his tensed muscles working to hold him up right, even though it looks like an effortless task to him.

“Oh shush. But thank you,” His comment makes your face warm, like a candle right next to your cheek.

“You look especially pretty under me,” his cock brushes your cunt, sliding delicately through the folds. You’re not shy of gasping, trying to mentally prepare yourself for his impeccable size.

When he finally pushes the head in, you take a deep breath and release it in a small whimper. You know you’re tight because you haven’t been with anyone in a few weeks. The most you’ve taken are Peter’s fingers, which are nothing compared to his cock.

He waits a few moments before moving again, giving you time to adjust. But you don’t think you’ll ever be able to fully settle with his size. It seems like he’ll always be stretching you out, no matter how many times you take him.

“Breathe, baby,” his words are breathy and wavering, but so sweet. The small nickname gives you the butterflies you haven’t felt for a while. Not the nervous butterflies, but that tingling, excited feeling of fondness. It’s one of your favorite feelings, and you’re so glad Peter gives you them.

You listen to him, taking deep breaths. He takes the opportunity to push himself a bit further until he’s fully inside of you. He stays still, looking at your face as you grow more comfortable. He watches as your expression contorts into desperation, which is what he’s been waiting for.

“You’re so tight, honey. But you’re taking all of me. Knew you could,” Peter reassures you, even as you clench snuggly around him. It’s embarrassingly hard for him to stay still, given how warm you feel wrapping him.

“Please move. Fuck, I need to feel you.”

Slowly, Peter removes himself and then slots in again. You remember to breathe as his movements become less languid and more fluidly quick. Soon, his thrusts have a bit of speed, causing you to scratch his shoulders at the intensity.

“You’re so big… so deep,” Your moan bounces off the walls of the room, making Peter smirk as he continues to move. His cock pins your hips, shutting down your squirming.

“No one’s ever fucked you like this? Never been this good, baby?” A small huff of his breath hit your skin and you were awed. His words alone could get you off, and then he’s pumping himself perfecting inside of you too, just making you go insane. He knows where all the right spots are, lifting up one of your legs with ease to get a better angle. You love that you can just let him take over you without having to work for your orgasm like you’re used to. You’re used to being on top, but it’s evident that Peter just wants to take care of you. He wants you to be satisfied for once, and you’ve never felt so seen. You’ve never felt so… good.

“Y-You’re the only one,” You sigh as you bite your lip, loving the way he's speaking to you. He’s all sultry in tone and even sexier with his words. You believe he has no flaws that are worth noticing.

“S’right. I’m the only one who can make you feel this good. You can only take my cock like this, deep in your cunt,” All you can do is moan and shake as you feel your next orgasm approaching.

Just when you go to reach down to your clit to push yourself even further, he reads your mind and does it for you. His thick finger circles the throbbing bud until you’re arching your back. Your fingers play with the pebbled nipples on your chest as your insides grow more tight. You haven’t had an orgasm feel this intense yet, so it’s hard to anticipate the feeling.

“Gonna come, baby? Come all over my cock, I need to see it. Need to know I’m the only one who can make you feel this way.”

With one entire pump inside of you, you’re coming over Peter’s cock and showing him that he’s the only one. All you can see is his charming, fatigued smile surrounded by stars. His brown hair is tousled and a dash of sweat is above his eyebrows, but God, he’s never looked so fucking hot.

It’s not long after that he’s coming after you, his release filling the condom completely. Peter was trying his best to hold himself for as long as possible. But with you, he discovered it was very difficult. Like he thought, the second he was inside of you, he could’ve come. You’re so slick and warm, just so alluring.

He gets up from the bed to discard the condom in done trash while you lay there in naked awe. You already know that you’re going to be sore tomorrow like the day after the gym.

As Peter comes back, he has a wipe that he uses to clean you up.

“What are you doing?” You ask before he starts to wipe you.

“Cleaning you up. You know, like aftercare. You can go to the bathroom and even take a bath if you’d like,” Peter answers while you sit straight up dumbfounded. “May I?”

“Yeah, yeah go ahead,” You allow him to soothingly clean you while you just accept it. Your mind is still whirling with confusion. Are all guys supposed to do this? Or is he really just that great? “Thank you. I… No one’s ever done that before.”

“Really? God, you were really with some twats, Y/N,” he shakes his head and walks back to the bathroom while you chuckle. It’s funny that you had to go through those two guys in order to get to Peter. Third time’s the charm. “Want to take a bath?”

You ponder for a second. You were tired, but not like you would drown in the tub. Maybe if you had better stamina you would ask Peter to join you, but for now, maybe you just need to sit and think about what’s happening alone. Peter is too good to be true. He’s such a gentleman, he never misses a beat. You hope you’re not overstepping by accepting.

“Can I? Or is it too much—”

“Nonsense, I want you to be comfortable. Now, do you like the right or left side of the bed?” You stare at him in confusion. One, because that was a random question. And two, because when did he put on boxers?

“What?”

“Which side do you sleep on?” You felt your cheeks burn for some reason, and then you realize you’re still naked while he’s semi-dressed.

“Um right, I think. Why?”

“So you can sleep there. You are staying, aren’t you?” Peter’s cheeks tint rosy red, that peek of nervousness shining through. It made you smile because even if he seems too good to be true, there is a little human in there who’s just like you.

“Yes, of course,” You can visibly see his tenseness fade as a small smile grows on his lips.

“I’ll start the bath then get you some clothes then, or else you’ll keep me hard all night.”

Your skin burns, but you feel like that’s not the last time that will happen to you. Not with Peter. No, you know.

—

thank you all for being patient!! i also think this is the longest taglist i’ve ever had, so thank you again!! 💞

taglist:

-> @motheroffae @noa217 @nelly-belly97 @spidermanffh3000 @httpscomexe @mysticdaisy21 @emilyparkerholland @deathst9r @ellenita98 @ellabellabus07 @mrstealuregirl @bisexual-desi @sherlockstrangewolf @madsttx @graywrites20 @bradtomlovesya @princesspannnn @sageisswaggg @purplerose291 @girlbossnancy @lockwood-lover @marzipaanz @eatshitanddiee @invisibletrolleyson-jeremy @lnmp89 @crybabyddl @pretty-npeach @marine-mayday @aerangi @justanotherpasserby-blog @tinafuentes @moniffazictress11 @eywaheardyou @alwaysclassyeagle @raajali3 @likeapplejuicenpeach @winuvs

crossed out= not able to tag

#shawnstyles #tom holland #peter parker #tom holland smut #peter parker smut #tom holland x you #peter parker x you #tom holland x reader #peter parker x reader #tom holland fan fics #peter parker fan fics #tom holland fan fiction #peter parker fan fiction

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hoonieyun · 10 days ago

Text

score: love!

secret admirer

pairing: lee heeseung x reader "y/n"

warnings: profanity, cheating allegations, not much but always 18+

ignore time stamps and any possible typos lol - this chapter is partially written, please make sure to read the written portion to fully understand the story!

wc: 1352

heeseung nervously walked out of his car and towards the decelis lounge. the automatic doors whirring as he enters, taking a gander at the lounge to see if he could find jinsoul and sure enough, there she was sitting towards the back; already staring at heeseung who stood at the entrance looking like a deer in headlights.

“heyyyy, jinsoul. how are you?” heeseung asks, awkwardly wiping his sweaty hands on his shorts. jinsoul urges heeseung to sit and although he was reluctant, jinsoul urges him that she’s not there to yell at him. this instantly calms heeseung down and just before the two are able to have their talk, a waiter asks what heeseung would like. he opts for an iced peach tea as he watches jinsoul sip on a cup of hot green tea.

“so, what did you wanna talk about?” heeseung asks and jinsoul lays it out simply. she’s worried about yn and heeseung knew where this was going. “look, i know i fucked up and im trying to fix it-” heeseung says but jinsoul cuts him off. “that’s not what i’m talking about. i’m confident you guys will fix your issues but i think someone is trying to fuck with her…” jinsoul explains and heeseung is confused at her words.

“fuck with her? like eric?” he asks and jinsoul shrugs. “i’m not sure. someones been texting her these weird messages and at first we thought it was just a prank, it’s starting to feel a little targeted. it has some stuff about the two of you.” jinsoul says, pulling her phone out to show heeseung the screenshots of the text messages yn had been receiving.

heeseung is shocked at the messages and he couldn’t believe that there was a photo of him and chaewon when she cornered him into being late to practice, the whole reason why you weren’t talking to him right now and was so upset at him for. “wait… this number looks familiar.” heeseung says, pulling out his phone to see if the number was in his contacts but it didn’t match with anyones.

“this is fucking insane. who the fuck would do this…” heeseung asks and jinsouls shrugs. she explains that you’ve been going through it lately and these text messages are only making things worse. not to mention that argument the two of you got into because of missing practice.

“that wasn’t my fault! i know i blew up on her but chaewon was the reason why i was late. she cornered me before i could leave my house and parked in front of my driveway so i couldn’t leave.” heeseung began to explain while jinsoul listened attentively.

he explains his history with chaewon; heeseung has always known who yn was. she was the promising and upcoming tennis prodigy when they were teenagers and as jake’s best friend, they were bound to know each other. as yn got better and better and found more opportunities to play tennis, heeseung couldn’t help but admire her and her talent, but her beauty as she played tennis, it was something different. something ethereal and majestic.

heeseung had developed a crush on yn that only jake knew about but as time went on, you had become unattainable because you just seemed so out of league. at some point, you had started dating eric and to suppress heeseung’s feelings for yn, he started dating chaewon.

the two pairs later became rivals in the mixed doubles tennis scene and the incident that led to your hiatus due to your injury. heeseung was gutted knowing how much he had hurt you, physically and mentally. he felt a level of guilt that he had never experienced before and knowing how much chaewon loathes you, he felt even worse.

the year before your return, heeseung had started secretly sending you flowers and letters filled with positive affirmations and words of encouragement. jinsoul’s face shifts from intently listening to shock when she realizes that the flowers you had been receiving was from heeseung the whole time. you and your friend group would often make jokes or guesses on who your secret admirer was and now that jinsoul knew, she felt like things were falling into place.

chaewon at one point caught heeseung dropping off the flowers at the hospital because her sister had worked there and this led to a big fight between the two. chaewon claimed that heeseung was cheating on her and her hatred for you only grew from there. there was no other reason behind chaewon’s anger towards yn besides the fact that she felt you took the success she deserved. yn never understood this because the two of them trained together and maybe if chaewon focused on her training instead of her hatred for yn, she’d be at a better place than she was now.

soon after your injury, eric had dumped you because you were no longer of use to him. he had said that he couldn’t keep you around because you were “dead weight”. this only added to your constant pressure and weight of not being good enough which only fueled your anger towards heeseung: the cause of your injury.

heeseung never stopped feeling guilty, even when he would fight back on you and claim it wasn’t his fault, it was only his ego speaking because deep down heeseung wishes it was him instead of you that had to deal with the pain and agony.

chaewon had threatened to breakup with heeseung if he ever did anything like that or even looked in your direction and because heeseung couldn’t afford to lose his girlfriend and tennis partner, he ultimately stopped and pushed his love for you deep down into the depths of his heart. like it was simply a candle that was constantly fighting off being inevitably blown out.

the day before registration for this year’s tournament, chaewon had caught heeseung scrolling on your twitter when you had announced that you were returning to competitive and professional play and chaewon blew up. yelling obscenities and accusations at heeseung and not even letting him get a word in before ineveitably breaking it off and leaving heeseung stranded and alone without a tennis partner just one day before registration. chaewon knew this would only lead heeseung back to her but it inevitably backfired.

although heeseung admits that he did only want to be your partner so that he could get chaewon back, he eventually realized that he truly wanted to be your partner because he wanted to get closer to you and show chaewon that he doesn’t need her.

“so that’s where i am now…” heeseung says, finally finishing his drawn out timeline of how he got to where was now.

“holy shit… god what is wrong with straight people…” jinsoul says.

“wait… you’re gay?” heeseung asks and jinsoul looks at him like he had just said something stupid. “oh if you thought i was straight you are highly mistaken…” she says but heeseung quickly moves on from the topic.

“look, i appreciate you wanting to talk; if this in anyway helps me fix my issues with yn, i’ll be grateful. i don’t expect you to tell her everything and fix it for me, but just know i want to fix this just as much as i want her to win.” heeseung confesses.

“don’t you mean, as much as you want the both of you to win?” jinsoul asks and heeseung shakes his head. “no… i want her to win, i don’t care about winning unless she wins.” he says, taking a sip from his peach tea and standing up to walk away. heeseung glances at his watch and sees he’s got to be at practice soon so he heads to his car to grab his gear and makes his way to the court.

jinsoul watches as heeseung gets further away, although she used to be as angry as you in regards to heeseung, she definitely has a better idea of what was happening. this could only be the start of something great, she thought. smiling to herself as she pulls her phone back out and opens the groupchat.

masterlist - backhand - forehand

tennis commentator: finally... FINALLY. heeseung has confessed and it seems that yn is quite smitten as well. now the questions is: who is behind the unknown number?

all writing here is fiction & not in any association with characters mentioned.

if you enjoyed reading this please consider reblogging and following <3

taglist: @jiiyen @pshbites @rairaiblog @fgumi @heartheejake @silquids @who-tf-soddhi @manaah02 @vhuteryh @17ericas @firstclassjaylee @noirvedette @starry-eyed-bimbo @lonelylandofan @sirens-dreams

#kiki diaries #enhypen #score: love!#en-diaries #kpop #kpop au #kpop fic #kpop fanfic #kpop fanfiction #enha #fanfiction #enhypen au #enhypen x reader #enha x reader #enhypen smau #enha smau #enhypen heeseung #lee heeseung #heeseung x reader

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haikyu-mp4 · 8 months ago

Text

Two jobs, part 2

word count; 1107 – set a few years after part 1, reader and Osamu are married and the three of you live together. I gave your son a name, Kazuo, to make writing easier

You were away on a business trip and left your two favourite guys to take care of each other for a few days. Luckily, you didn’t have to do this often, but you were relieved they got along so well that you could. Even though Kazuo grew attached to Osamu in a way before you two even started dating, it had been an adjustment for all of you after you got married and moved in together, especially because your son was at his most difficult age.

Currently, Kazuo sat on a bar chair by the island counter while Osamu made dinner. The two would often hang out in the kitchen together, because Kazuo liked spending time with Osamu when he had an excuse for it. He also found it hilarious when he asked his stepdad for help with his homework and Samu got frustrated because he didn’t understand it either. It was a peaceful connection they had, and you usually did your best to let them have their time in the kitchen to themselves even when you were home.

“Hey, look at this.” Osamu said to catch his attention. When Kazuo looked up, he did some weird juggling trick with the pepper shaker before adding the necessary seasoning to the soup he was making. Then he did the same with the salt to show it wasn’t a fluke. “Am I cool, or what?” It was meant as a joke, but there was a hopeful look in his eyes.

Kazuo made a face. “Uhh… yeah.” he said, which was an obvious lie, making Osamu deflate. He wasn’t sure why, but he felt particularly sensitive about it all of a sudden. Perhaps it had something to do with the difference of how Kazuo looked when he got to play volleyball with his twin compared to how he politely declined lately when Osamu asked him if they should do some passes in the garden.

“Do you not think I’m cool?” he asked after a long silence, leaning one hand on his hip while the other stirred the soup to make sure it didn’t stick to the bottom.

“Not like Tsumu.” Kazuo answered honestly without thinking about it, eyes on his homework so he didn’t notice his stepdad’s face scrunching up. If he thought he felt sensitive before, that one hit the spot for sure. “But it’s okay, being a chef is good too.” The boy honestly didn’t think adults cared so much about being cool.

“Yeah, yeah, don’t take pity on me now.” he said followed by a deep sigh. “Maybe I should cook you instead, you gremlin.” Kazuo just laughed, unknowing of Osamu’s bruised ego. When he turned back to his homework, Osamu pulled his phone out and opened messages, sending a simple ‘You’re ugly and stupid’ to Atsumu without context. That made him feel a little better, at least. You bet he’ll call you that night before bed for some reassurance. And to remind you that he loves you, of course.

Sometimes, Kazuo was allowed to go to parties in exchange for sharing his location at all times while he was away with whichever parental figure was home at the time. Usually, the parties were alright. Typical underage parties where someone had stolen a few beers from a parent and they all tasted it before looking disgusted and swearing to never drink it again. He would be picked up at the agreed time with a few complaints of how lame you were for setting those rules, and then he would tell you he loved you under his breath before going to bed.

However, they were growing older and that came with engaging in new topics of interest. That’s how Kazuo ended up in a game of seven minutes in heaven that he desperately wanted out of. It’s not like he could just tell them he might prefer guys over girls, he wasn’t even sure yet himself! It was all too much, so he snuck away and pulled out his phone with slightly shaky hands. You’re still on your business trip, and he was starting to miss you even though he would never tell you that. After all, you were the only one he relied on for the first 10 years of his life.

He pulled up his contacts on the old phone you had gifted him, scrolling past your contact until he got to a Miya. Even though he knew Atsumu liked spending time with him, he didn’t seem to have that much spare time anymore. Actually, he probably wouldn’t call Atsumu for an emergency anyways, he realised. Tsumu was more of a cool uncle, like he told Osamu in the kitchen the day before. Now that he was in trouble, he already knew who he had to call.

“Samu…” Kazuo said, voice cracking a little so he pretended to clear his throat.

“What’s up, buddy?” Osamu sounded tired, like he had taken a nap in that recliner he loved to occupy when you weren’t home. If you knew he snoozed off while your boy was at a party, you would not be happy, but at least he picked up the phone.

“Can you come pick me up?” he asked not too loudly, frowning at the floor. “I’m okay, I just want to go home.” He tried to sound tough and chill, but it didn’t fool Osamu.

“Sure, I’ll head out now. Go outside in about 15 minutes but not before. Actually, stay inside until I’m there.” Kazuo chuckled a bit at Osamu’s short ramble where he corrected himself, then he hummed in confirmation and hung up. So he told his friends he was feeling under the weather and went outside when Osamu came to pick him up.

Kazuo didn’t say much more than “Thanks for picking me up,” and “I don’t want to talk about it,” after getting in the car, and Osamu knew he would rather tell you about it than him, so he didn’t pry.

Instead, he clicked his tongue with a cheeky smile. “You know, the new Star Wars movie just came out for streaming. I won’t tell your mom we stayed up late if you don’t.”

And as he looked to the side where Kazuo fiddled with his hands in the passenger seat wearing a relieved smile, safe because he dared text him for help, Osamu decided that he didn’t need to be cool. He just had to be there.

Even so, his chest bloomed with pride when Kazuo came out of the bathroom after brushing his teeth for the night and told him, “Thanks for the movie, Samu. You are pretty cool.”

masterlist

taglist: @miyamizuna, @makkir0ll, @shiratorizawa-can-step-on-me, @sobbing-leave-me-alone-bots, @eeerreehhh, @f4iryk3i, @cosmiicdust, @malikazz243

#haikyu x reader #haikyu #haikyuu #hq x reader #fanfiction #haikyuu x reader #hq #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu x you #haikyu fluff #stepdad!osamu #miya osamu x reader #miya osamu #osamu x reader

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adonis-koo · 2 years ago

Text

sweet nothing • 1

( in which you prove to be far more trouble he thought you'd be )

↳ Description: being a guest at the Jeon Estate after a mishap of being kidnapped and dragged into your brothers affairs isn’t all that bad. Truth be told it brings you a lot closer to the mobster and owner of the estate Jeon Jungkook himself.

His two rules are simple, don’t cause trouble and don’t give him a hard time. Somehow you manage to constantly do both in the most endearing way despite being pregnant and waddling around most of the time.

↳ Pairing: Jungkook/reader, ???/reader

↳ Genre: slice of life AU, mafia!AU, pregnancy, there’s like…a little bit of a plot but not a lot, future smut? maybe? it's very domestic!

Word Count: 4.6k

Previous | Next

Note: the crowd is booing so loud at the sight of pregnancy but I don’t care!!! slice of life makes my head go brrr. lol in all seriousness I hope you all enjoy this lil story! It’s just a mini series that is super domestic and light hearted! it popped into my head and I had to write it down so enjoy! also this hasn't been proofread, we die like men

The room was suffocatingly silent.

Jungkook had ignored it promptly though, leaned back in his leather chair, hair dusting over his eyes slanting his view, but his sight couldn’t be more accurate then it already was.

This was not what he had asked his men to do.

“I…” Your voice scratched, trying to find something to say, not only had you been kidnapped a mere hour ago, but now you had been brought into your captor's home and taken to him directly.

Your throat tightened as your heart beat frantically, you couldn’t be scared right now, you needed to take action before it was too late, “I understand why I’m here but please,” You looked up at him earnestly, “I…I’m due in early December. You can sell me off, keep me here, do what you want with me but please, Mr Jeon, give my baby a chance."

Your eyes blurred at just the thought, your hands hugging over your swollen stomach. You had been so shaken up the whole time that it hadn’t even occurred to you how fast this had all happened.

It was late and you had been worried your brother found himself in trouble again, one minute you were getting ready to phone him, the next the door was smashed open to men in suits, guns in the air and tearing the whole apartment up.

You were taken as…what you could only assume was collateral, you knew who Mr Jeon- you had informally met before.

Your brother had been paying him ransome for protection against…well…You supposed there was no reason to bother recounting everything. You were here now, in front of Jeon Jungkook, who looked less than pleased at the moment.

What made you worried however was his continued silence, he was never a man of many words, or at least that's the impression you had always gotten when your brother and him would meet.

Jungkook shifted in his chair, his lip visibly twitched before he muttered, “Get her out of here.”

You felt your stomach lurch as you were yanked out of your chair with a yelp, “In one piece.” Jungkook added with an annoyed glint in his eye.

The grip on your arms was relaxed immediately before you were jostled out of the room leaving it in silence once more.

“It was the best we could do Sir,” Yeonjun spoke, crossing his arms behind his back, “We searched the whole apartment but Wonho was gone. We took her for collateral until he’s found.”

Jungkook looked more visibly angry, “You brought me a pregnant defenseless woman.” He stood up in his chair, “What the fuck am I supposed to do with that?”

Yeonjun lifted his hands, “Send a message out to Wonho, tell him we have his sister and we’ll see if he actually has a soul and gets the money to save her.”

“And if he doesn’t?” Jungkook challenged, his eyes brewing hellfire as he inhaled sharply, Yeonjun had wisely chosen to not engage in his questions anymore, “I’m not going to kill her for fucks sake, even I have my limits.”

Jungkook tucked his tongue into his cheek as he leaned against the desk.

“Well we can't just release her now,” Yeonjun replied, “So what do you want me to do with her?”

Jungkook crossed his arms, his jaw clenched in anger as he shook his head in thought. Who’s bright idea was it to take her ransome? Truly? Because he knew Yeonjun wasn’t that stupid.

“Put her in a nice room, draw her a bath, offer a foot massage. She’s fucking pregnant, do I have to keep reminding you?” Jungkook hissed out as he waved his hand about.

“Noted.” Yeonjun sighed, “Anything else you wanna add to that list?”

“Yeah, if I hear about one bruise, one little fucking scrape on her, I’ll have everyone lined up and shot in the living room.” Jungkook replied, before turning around to sit back down, “Now go. I don’t wanna see anyone unless they have something about that rat that isn’t a waste of my time.”

Yeonjun nodded and said no more, leaving while his head was somehow still intact. Jungkook collapsed in his seat as he ran a hand through his hair in frustration. Wonho had fucked up more then just not paying his debts, he had leaked sensitive information to the Kim’s and it had him on extremely thin ice right now.

He didn’t need a bystander involved in this situation. Jungkook crossed his arms in thought as he leaned back in his chair, you were a familiar enough face for Jungkook to recognize, you had only met a handful of times and was never involved in more dangerous dealings your brother dealt with.

Quiet, you were considerably quiet, though Jungkook can recount a few small harmless conversations you had both made while waiting on your brother or in other circumstances that would call for something as such. But it had been awhile since he had seen you.

Obviously long enough for you to get knocked up and in the middle of a pregnancy. Jungkook exhaled as he closed his eyes, trying to ignore the stress induced headache he had.

Yeonjun was right, now that they had you it would be better to just keep you here and out of the line of fire, if they let you go now there was no telling what you would do, would you warn your brother? Would he sell you out?

Would the Kim’s have kidnapped you as well?

Jungkook had made the decision that yes, it would just be easier to keep you here at his estate, more as a guest than actual collateral because he honestly didn’t believe the idea that your brother would actually care about anyone but himself, he had proven that countless times.

Jungkook may have not known you personally, but given your display of groveling, it was evident you felt the same.

This…was not what you had expected.

Your lips parted in shock as the door shut behind you, the rooms were easily bigger than your little apartments living room, a glass chandelier hanging from the ceiling and plenty of spare space, large windows were next to the bed with tall hanging curtains and a writing desk was on the wall next to it.

Then there was the bathroom, a claw foot bathtub and fluffy towels all folded up with various shampoos and soaps on display. You had to rub your eyes twice to figure out if you had been hallucinating. Everything was…nice…

You weren’t sure what you had expected but this wasn’t it. The water was hot against your skin as you showered, a little paranoid albeit, waiting for the door to bust down once again and for them to drag you into a less nice room.

But the men never came as you laid in bed, shifting constantly to try and fall asleep.

One of the downsides of being pregnant was not being able to sleep on your stomach the way you had been, your side felt uncomfortable and your back kept cramping anytime you laid for too long on your back.

Your hand gently brushed over the bump with a sigh, you didn’t understand why Jungkook would do this. You had spoken to him a handful of times, and while you wouldn’t describe him as a charismatic person, he was polite. But you had heard the stories about him, rumors of something much darker than who you had talked to that lurked beneath.

Jungkook was a CEO of a small export company, big enough that he had well established connections in the upper socialite world but small enough that he evaded being in the spotlight of hollywood and its nosy media reporters.

He refused photoshoots or magazine interviews at whatever cost and only attended parties unless it was absolutely necessary. Or so he had somewhat jokingly recalled one evening when you both were sitting at a club bar, somewhat awkwardly waiting for your brother who had gotten busy with a prostitute after Jungkook had come later then he said.

Whether this was all true or not was beyond you.

You supposed at the end of the day you should be thankful he’s chosen to keep you alive, for now. But dread filled your stomach, after all, you were only alive on borrowed time.

It was a beautiful day outside, it was early morning but the sun was shining bright with billowy thick clouds and it was still cool outside, but within a few hours the heat would once again be scorching hot just as it was yesterday.

You had taken an extensive amount of time to take in the gardens as well, marigolds, tulips, buttercups and so many more were all around, well taken care of by the looks of it. It was gorgeous.

This, of course, was all in an effort to avoid the gaze of the person who sat in front of you on the small table on the terrace.

“You should eat,” Jungkook finally spoke, his hair was tied out of his face, giving you for the first time ever, a good look at his face. It was well sculpted with a chiseled jawline that oddly suited his rounded button-like nose.

His thick brows were pinched as if he were angry as he ate, but you at some point realized the food must've just been that good, “You’re eating for two after all.” He added, “Nothing’s poisoned, if you couldn’t tell by now.”

He gestured to his own plate, which had a serving of just about everything on the table on it, this made a weak smile tug on your lips, feeling oddly reminiscent of the few conversations you had shared before.

But this was very different.

You were definitely hungry though, you had been craving syrup and fried chicken since four in the morning and while there was no chicken on the table, there was definitely syrup that could cure one of your cravings.

Hesitantly you put a few crepes onto your plate, adding some sausage as well before drizzling syrup over them.

“How was it?”

You glanced up at him, not intentionally ignoring him, but to say you were still terrified of him was a bit of an understatement, “...What do you mean?” You finally asked, your voice no more than a whisper.

Jungkook wiped his mouth with an intricately decorated napkin, “Your room, it was rushed last night. They didn’t have time to put everything in there, you’ll be getting a wardrobe today but I didn’t know your size for maternity wear- or if that’s something you even wanted. You’ll have to discuss it with Jimin regardless.”

You stared at him blankly for a long moment as he met your eyes, “What?”

“Mr Jeon-”

“Jungkook.” His brows pinched, though this was not because of what he was eating.

You stuttered, “...Jungkook,” You corrected yourself, still somewhat uneasy, “Um…I don’t understand, anything that’s going on.”

Jungkook sighed, as if he were expecting this as he leaned back in his seat, the buttons on his black shirt clinging for dear life as his chest puffed a little to stretch, “I doubt you know anything about your brother’s where abouts,” He replied, “And truthfully I’m sure you know he could give less then two shits about you or your baby.” He paused for a moment at the smallest sight, your lips briefly quivering and then your eyes darting to your plate. You were upset, but trying to hide it. It made him internally wince, perhaps his wording wasn’t the best.

He cleared his throat as he continued, “So until this is all resolved you’ll be staying here, it’s the easiest thing to do with you at this point now that you’re involved. With your consent or against it. That’s up to you. But if you want to keep your baby safe then you’ll be smart and not try to escape.”

You glanced up at him for a long moment before your hands curled, “You’re the one that kidnapped me. And it’s somehow my fault that I’m involved in my brother's affairs that I never wanted to be a part of to begin with?”

Jungkook only curved a brow, quickly reminding you that you’re not in a position to be chastising him.

However his lack of anger surprised you, in fact he sounded the opposite, “I did not kidnap you, my men did, without my knowledge of the whole situation. They made a split second decision in bringing you here, and indirectly involving you in the matter. It was a mistake on my behalf and I apologize for it.”

You stared at him now in disbelief at his sincerity as he continued, “I’m trying to make up for it as best I can now by having you stay here. If you leave now it’s likely the Kim’s will take you hostage and see what information they can get out of you, or hell I wouldn’t put it past your brother to just sell you to them.”

“My…my brother wouldn’t-”

“We both know the truth,” Jungkook cut you off with a frown, “There’s no point in trying to comfort yourself with a lie. There’s no telling what could happen if we let you walk out that door on your own. So like I said, if you’re smart and you want to keep your baby safe, you’ll stay here. How miserable you want to make this experience is up to you, but I have no plans of making you a hostage or holding you prisoner.”

You slow began to eat, though having to hold back the urge to devour your whole plate, one bite had unleashed the monstrous appetite that had been lurking inside for the last six hours.

“And I don’t suppose you’re doing this out of the kindness of your heart,” You replied, “You have to want something in return.”

Jungkook took a large bite out of his bratwurst, “You’re right,” he nodded before taking a drink of champagne, “I want you to stay out of trouble and not make this any more difficult than it needs to be. Two requests, you think you can manage that?”

You both stared at one another for a long moment before you glanced at your plate, “I don't suppose there’s much choice is there?”

Jungkook shrugged, “Depends on your perspective, you could easily raise hell if you wanted, but I’d prefer you not. Where’s your husband? The last thing I need is someone nosing about trying to look for you. It would be better to just inform him and get things settled right away.”

Jungkook paused though at the sight of you stiffening a little, your jaw clenching as you grabbed your flute of water.

“I don’t have a husband,” You finally spoke after taking a long drink, “Or boyfriend. I work at the Bakery on main street though, they’ll want to know why I’m unable to come in to work.”

Jungkook looked curious, but he didn’t ask questions, “Very well, consider it taken care of.”

He didn’t want to pry but he was undeniably curious about your circumstances, caught up in all of this, pregnant without a husband or partner. Jungkook had never considered you the type of woman to sleep around, having always been rather shy around him but then again, perhaps it was because you had always known who he truly was.

Still though, it was rather curious indeed, and there was nothing more Jungkook enjoyed in his past time than a good mystery.

Rather than let the silence linger Jungkook asked, “How far along are you? This could be resolved in a few days, or it can take months. I’d rather make arrangements now for the later rather than be caught unprepared.”

“Twenty two weeks,” You replied, your hand pressing against your stomach as you looked down at your baby bump, a brief smile tugging on your face before it fell at the sight of Jungkook’s face, a bit confused before you weakly smiled once more, “Five and a half months. Like I said yesterday, my due date is December 13th

You had been anxious before about delivery your baby, after all, you had never done it before. But you're definitely anxious now at the idea of having to do it while being held as a guest in the Jeon Estate.

Labor was already a painful experience, you don't want to have to go through it alone in an environment like this. Jungkook only nodded though, “I’ll have my personal doctor come by and fill in the role of your practitioner for check ins with the baby. A midwife will also be on staff for check-ins as well. If you need anything else just let me know. I’ll find time during the day to see you at least once.” Jungkook checked his watch as he sat upright, “But I have to go now, business to do. Yeonjun will show you around and then Jimin will be around to talk to you in further detail about your wardrobe.”

Jungkook grabbed his satin black jacket off the back of his chair as he stood up before leaving you alone. With a sigh of relief you sunk into your chair, having not released the breath you held in until you let it out before feasting on your breakfast while thinking about his words. While this was not an ideal situation, you couldn’t deny Jungkook’s kindness.

You had been settling in for the last week and a half with an odd amount of contentment, your days were filled with a lot less physical labor then before, though you did miss going out and seeing your coworkers and interacting with regular customers.

There was a certain sense of peace the estate gave you though, you still took your daily walks in the garden accompanied by Yeonjun who had been personally assigned to oversee you and he was a rather funny person.

His humor was dry and it was even funnier watching him interact with Jungkook.

He served as good company as did a few other people you had met, Jimin being one of them, he oversaw the finances of the estate and basically kept the place running while Jungkook was off doing business, only ever bothering him when something of substantial financial sum was needed for something.

And true to his word you saw and spoke to Jungkook at least once a day as he said, either in the morning for breakfast or in the afternoon for dinner. But the talk was usually the same, either about this or that, small talk.

You supposed it wasn’t that bad, considering the situation you were in you should consider yourself lucky that Jungkook is who he is. Regardless, you didn’t feel comfortable asking him about your brother.

First off what had he done for you to be put in this position and more importantly, where had your brother disappeared to? You had no doubt many of Jungkook’s days were spent searching for him, which made you wonder, just what had your brother done?

You dismissed it from your mind, you had been trying to detach yourself from whatever consequences would eventually find your brother, after all Jungkook had a point- no matter how much it stung to hear.

You loved Wonho, you just wished for once he would put you first, that he would put anyone first, you couldn’t even remember when he spiraled down this destructive path of dealing in narcotics that got him all tangled up in gangs and inevitably, the mafia.

Just that somewhere along the way your brother had turned into a total jerk that was willing to sabotage anyone to save his own skin.

Just the reminder of the argument you had about this very topic had run through your head when talking to Jungkook, it was the reason you had chosen to stay here giving him no problems.

While you still didn’t feel comfortable because again, you weren’t exactly staying out of complete free will, you did feel safe here. For once, you felt safe. Your hand rubbed over your stomach as you aimlessly walked through the halls.

Yeonjun had an online meeting he was attending in his office which meant you were free to roam the inside of the estate of your own meanwhile, he had given you the grand tour when your first morning and yet it seemed like you were still finding new rooms.

Curiously you walked through the ballroom, or the equivalent to one, it was a grand room big enough to host an expensive party for sure. Poking your head into different doors you never knew what to expect.

Closing the last door you walked a little further before you let out a breath, grabbing your stomach at the small kick you just felt.

“You’re a little sucker aren’t you?” You winced out, the little kicks themselves weren’t painful, it was mainly your sudden back pain that had you leaning against the wall for support.

What you hadn’t expected though was for the wall to press inward before back out, revealing a hidden door.

You quickly straightened up right, back pain forgotten as your lips parted. Of course mobster Jeon Jungkook would have a hidden door in the fancy ballroom of his estate, you shouldn’t have expected less.

You opened it up as you peered inside before delight filled your face, it was filled to the brim with books and the entire wall was made up of glass giving an expanse view into the garden, and there was a wide window sill with soft cushions making up a seat.

Sliding as best you could inside the door shut behind you as you stepped further in, it looked magical in here easily, lights were strung up though they looked dusty, as if they hadn’t been used in years.

How had you never noticed this during the walks in the garden before? Sitting down you curiously nosed through books, mostly children's books oddly enough. You smiled however as your hands constantly rubbed over your tummy, a soothing habit you had developed as the bump grew.

While you still weren’t fond of the idea of giving birth here, if you had too, you were relieved to know there were supplies here that wouldn’t be horrible to utilize for your baby. You could just imagine holding them swaddled against your chest, laying against the soft pillows reading here on a rainy day.

Standing up you groaned as you grabbed your back, Yeonjun would be wondering where you were at soon, after all he said his meeting wouldn’t be long. But you would certainly keep this place in the back of your mind as somewhere to go during quiet moments in the day.

Walking back up to the wall you pressed on it before your happy expression slowly shifted.

There wasn’t a door handle.

You pressed on the wall once more, a little more forceful hoping it would latch open again but unfortunately it didn’t budge. Your heart rate immediately spiked as you tried to calm yourself down.

This is fine.

You sat back down on the cushioned window sill trying to think rationally. Yeonjun would be sure to look for you and if he couldn’t find you which means he’d call Jungkook which would mean…

Somehow the idea of that happening brought you less comfort than before. Jungkook would assume you had made a run for it and would probably not even bother to look for you.

In fact, he’d probably be relieved that you were gone and he’d no longer have to deal with you.

“What the fuck do you mean you lost her!?” Jungkook hissed out venomously and not a single man dared speak up as he glared daggers at Yeonjun who held his breath for a moment, “She’s six months pregnant how the fuck do you just lose someone who’s six months pregnant!?”

Jungkook was damn near ready to rip out his hair, he was already dealing with multiple loose ends on his part and now you were magically gone?

“Where’s the CCTV at?” Jungkook growled as he ripped his jacket off, tossing it at his chair, he was burning up and his hand was itching to grab the gun that was shoved in his back pocket.

“It’s been fried,” Jimin winced a little at Jungkook’s livid expression, “I went to check the moment I heard she was gone but it looks like someone sabotaged it just an hour ago.”

Jungkook’s lips twitched, “So what you’re saying is not only did all of you lose her, but she got fucking kidnapped in the process?” His hands curled into fists as he paced back and forth trying to not lose his cool any further as he viciously smiled, “This place is a goddamn fortress with over forty men guarding it and somehow, my CCTV footage got fried and guest got kidnapped within an hour and nobody noticed? Nobody!?”

“There’s been no signs of breaking and entering though.” Yoongi, his business partner who had been sitting there watching the whole thing finally spoke up, “If somebody got in, we would’ve got the word. It’s like you said, you have over forty men on staff here.”

Jungkook seemed to cool down a bit at his words but his tone was still sharp, “And the CCTV? What else could’ve fried it?”

“The fact that you haven’t replaced it in the last five years?” Yoongi shrugged before snorting, “Maybe a bird chewed through the wiring, maybe it shorted. Hell if I know, what I do know is that it’s not normal for you to get this worked up over something.”

Jungkook’s nostrils flared, “Because somebody’s life is on the line here. What about Y/n!? If she had left on her own there would be at least something indicating she left.”

“Then maybe she didn’t leave.” Yoongi shrugged, causing Jungkook to pause his pacing as he stared at Yoongi accusingly, “What? It’s the truth, the estate is big Jungkook, she’s only been here a week, she probably just got lost. There’s no reason to make a big deal out of this when there’s no indication that points to it being a big deal.” Jungkook looked annoyed but said nothing to him, only muttering for them all to spread out and search the estate.

It had been three hours of searching, every nook and cranny, under every bed in every closet and Jungkook had just about lost all hope as he gazed out the tall windows in the ballroom when he noticed something odd.

The door to his childhood library was stuck in an odd position, it was old and he hadn’t been in here in ages, the door used to get jammed if it wasn’t closed properly.

Luckily all it took was a little force to get open, he gave it a good shove before it clicked back into place and propped open as he peered inside. Mouth gaping at the sight of you jumping up in surprise, looking half asleep with a book in hand.

Your smile was just as guilty as the rest of you as you said, “Hi…I was beginning to wonder if you’d ever find me.”

“Out. Now.” Jungkook looked mad, but he was secretly relieved that you were safe. He’d rather you be stuck in the library by accident than having tried to make a mad dash on your own out of the estate.

Just the sight of your sulky pout let him know one thing for sure; you were absolutely not going to be able to follow his two requests, for better or worse.

#bts #bts jungkook #jungkook #jeon jungkook #jungkook x reader #jungkook x y/n #jungkook x reader imagine #bts scenario #bts imagine #bts au #mafia!jungkook

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winniemoe · 2 months ago

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trick or treat, matt sturniolo

synopsis. halloween horror night turned out to be a real fright

characters. matt x y/n

winnie speaks. chatt 😭ik it’s a day late but we went toting and came back late..

requested. nope

disclaimer. slight angst with fluff

word count….?

Halloween night was supposed to be fun, just you and the Sturniolo triplets out together, celebrating at a party you’d all been looking forward to for weeks. The costumes had been planned, laughs shared, and the evening started out perfectly. Matt had been by your side the whole night, his Ghostbuster costume matching his brothers’, while you, dressed as a Victorian ghost, added a haunting charm to the group. Everything was going well—until he disappeared.

You’d been laughing with Nick, turning to grab Matt’s hand to pull him into the conversation, but he wasn’t there. You scanned the crowd, moving through the thick clusters of people until you spotted him. And your heart dropped.

Across the room, Matt stood by the wall with a girl you didn’t recognize. She was close, laughing at something he said, and he looked so comfortable with his arm resting around her shoulders. It felt like a punch to the gut. You took a shaky breath, refusing to make a scene. Without a word, you left the party, the cool October air stinging your cheeks as you stepped outside.

You pulled out your phone, sending a quick text to Nick, letting him know you’d left. Before you could slip away, though, Matt’s message popped up, filling the screen.

“Y/N, where are you? Nick just said you left.”

Your heart twisted as you read it, but you took a second to breath and replied.

“Needed some air. You seemed busy.”

Minutes later, you heard footsteps running up behind you. You knew it was him before he even called out.

“Y/N, hey!” Matt’s voice was urgent as he came up beside you, a mix of concern and confusion in his eyes. “What happened? Why’d you leave?”

You clenched your jaw, trying to keep your voice steady. “I saw you with her, Matt. You looked pretty… into whatever was going on.”

He frowned, clearly surprised. “She was just asking me about Chris. She thought we were all single, so I was just helping her out.”

The way he brushed it off only fueled the frustration building in your chest. “Helping her out? Really? Looked more like you were forgetting about me for the night.”

His expression shifted, defensiveness flashing across his face. “Come on, Y/N. Are you really getting worked up over that? You know you’re the one I’m with.”

“That’s not how it looked, Matt. If I’m really the one you’re with, then why’d it look like you were so comfortable with someone else?”

He exhaled, sounding almost irritated. “You’re overreacting. I don’t know why you’re making this such a big deal.”

That stung. The way he dismissed your feelings hit harder than you expected, and you took a step back, your chest tight with a mix of anger and hurt. “Maybe because I thought you actually cared about how I feel,” you replied, voice laced with bitterness.

Without giving him a chance to respond, you turned on your heel and walked back into the party, determined not to let him see you break down. You scanned the crowd, ignoring the sting in your eyes, and made your way to a group of people dancing. One of the guys noticed you, flashing a friendly smile, and you found yourself smiling back. You leaned into the conversation, laughing at his jokes, letting yourself get swept up in the moment, hoping it would dull the ache Matt had left.

From across the room, you could feel Matt’s gaze on you, watching as you laughed with someone else. You ignored him, refusing to look his way. If he didn’t understand why you were hurt, then maybe he needed to feel what it was like to see you in someone else’s company.

After a while, you felt a gentle tug on your arm. Turning, you found Matt standing there, his eyes searching yours. “Can we talk? Please?”

Reluctantly, you nodded, letting him lead you to a quieter corner.

He took a deep breath, struggling to find the words. “Look, I didn’t mean to hurt you. Seeing you with him… I get it now. I get how it must’ve felt for you to see me with someone else.”

You crossed your arms, not ready to let your guard down. “Then why’d you make me feel like I was overreacting? Like my feelings didn’t matter?”

“I was an idiot,” he admitted, his voice soft, regret lacing every word. “I thought I could just brush it off because… I thought you’d know how much I care about you. But I didn’t realize that I needed to show you, too.”

You met his eyes, still feeling the hurt but also sensing his sincerity. He took your hand gently, his thumb brushing over your knuckles.

“I’m sorry, Y/N. You’re the only one I want,” he said quietly, his gaze unwavering. “And if I haven’t made that clear, then that’s on me.”

The weight of his words settled over you, slowly easing the ache in your chest. After a long pause, you gave a small nod, letting him pull you into a warm embrace. His hold was steady, grounding, as if he was silently promising he’d never make you feel that way again.

As the night continued, Matt didn’t leave your side for a moment, his hand always finding yours, his attention solely on you. And as you looked at him, you knew he meant every word.

#everything winnie ⊹ ࣪ ˖#winnie’s fics ๋࣭ ⭑#winniemoe ☁️#chris sturniolo #matt sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #nick sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #matt sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo blurb #matt sturniolo angst #matt sturniolo fluff #matt x you #matt x reader

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umadosedepascal · 9 months ago

Text

NEW MEXICO | Pedro Pascal X f!reader | PART IX

Written by Santa Trindade

Banner by @missyorkswhore

Made in Brazil

Pairing: Pedro Pascal x f!reader

Summary: Pedro asks you to spend his birthday together with you. You just go.

wc: 3.3k

rating/warnings: [pure smut no plot][unprotected PIV][oral sex m/f] [alcohol comsuption][Spitting] [Overstimulation][Pedro’s POV on the first part]

a/n: The new look needed a fic. Simple like that he just wants to devasted you haha

5:45AM

The alarm rings, I get up from the bed reluctantly, regretting the night before with those tequila shots.

_Pedro, why did you forget to shave yesterday?

I look at myself looking in the hotel mirror, dying to go back to bed.

_Can I shave without any cuts? It's been so long…

I take off my PJs and my phone vibrates with countless messages, it was her.

*Hi P. When will you be free? I want to see you. It's been a while...*

Even though I'm in another state... fuck it.

*Hi my love, I'm in New Mexico for work... what are your plans? *

While I let the steam of the hot water invade the bathroom, I wrap a towel around my waist and take a pic in the mirror and then send it.

*6 a.m., recording is what I have for today...*

I know her so well.

*Wow! What a hottie, I’m craving you now...*

I'm already late and need to shave it off, so I hold my phone on top of the sink and call her.

I can see that she's on the couch.

"Weren't you at home?" I ask raising an eyebrow and fixing the phone on the countertop

"I told you babe, I went out with friends, we went to a bar, but I'm already here and wanting you" she smiles and lowers the camera showing me the dress she wears.

_Does she need to be that hot?

"I would love to be there now, I have wonderful ideas of what I would do with you on this couch…"

I just look at her and move away, giving her a view of my shape, I take off the towel and open the shower door and enter, letting the hot water reach my body, giving me goosebumps for the temperature and for knowing that she is watching me.

"If I can't be with you on this couch, I thought you deserved a little show"

She squirms on the couch, biting her lip and just nodding her head without saying a word. I like the effect I have on her.

"Does that makes you horny, love? To see me like this?" I ask and squeeze my cock, my hand sliding slightly up and down

"Pedro, don't play with me like that!"

"Patience mama, patience" I say smiling.

An idea comes up, but I don't tell her, I just smile and as soon as I finish I pick up my phone

"Honey, I need to run, soon they'll be here calling for me, I can't be late"

"I know P, it's okay, call me back tonite." she smiles and we say goodbye, even if my cock protests wanting to feel that pussy, that mouth, I don't have time now.

As soon as I turn it off, I take the razor, the foam, moving the wet hair away from the forehead I face my reflex and start spreading the foam around my face.

It's been so long since I've taken my beard off that it takes me longer than necessary, taking care not to cut myself. As soon as I finish I feel different, a new Pedro maybe, the new look of the next few weeks, maybe months.

I take a pic and send her.

*This is Ted Garcia, nice to meet you. Please come and stay until Tues to spend my birthday with me? *

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

*JAVIER? Is that you?*

You fall asleep and wake up at 3pm

Was it a dream? _

No, you get your phone and see that it was real.

Without thinking too much, you buy a ticket for the end of the day and get any hotel in the same city as Pedro.

*I’m getting there at the end of the night, where can I meet you?*

Hours go by and no message from him.

You are already at the hotel so to wait for an answer from Pedro, you get dressed and go down to the hotel bar and order a drink, it's already late at night and no sign of him.

1 AM

*Mama, oh you already here? Exhausting day. I can't wait to see you tomorrow. Dream of me*

Yes, it's frustrating but you understand his side and try to sleep without thinking too much about the day to come.

Waking up early the next day you have your breakfast with mimosa and lots of good food.

*Good morning, Javier. I mean... Ted...oops Pedro! Can I be your informant today? 😏*

A few minutes a very direct message appears on the screen.

*Second trailer, in the corner my name is at the door😉.*

Arriving in the scenographic city that is not that scenic, until then no one prevents you from walking around there, despite being temporarily restricted. Maybe everyone thinks you're part of the cast, since you're wearing bootcut jeans, a white T-shirt and leather boots. Would you be an impostor? As soon as you approach the trailer, a security guard will block you.

“Credentials?”

"No, I just..." you stutter thinking about how to explain until Pedro opens the door of the trailer and smiles

"She is with me!”

Pedro extend his arm to you, helping you climb the steps, he pulls you into the trailer and locks the door behind you. You can barely say hi to him and you are pushed to the door.

He presses his body against yours, his left hand going up your thigh to your waist, where he pulls you closer.

You can feel his cock hardening against his jeans.

"Pedro..." You say softly as he lowers his mouth down your neck, it's a new feeling, still feeling the mustache pinch the skin, but also feeling the softness of his face. The smell of perfume, aftershave lotion. The smell of his skin.

"I know." Pedro holds your face, looking and smiling at you, so you observe how he looks younger without a beard, how beautiful he is, his hair a little messy, his dark eyes full of lust, his breath panting.

"Hi," he says laughing, sticking his forehead to yours.

You pull him by his shirt, his lips hitting yours, his hands climbing up the back of your neck scratching slightly. His hands going up under your blouse, his thumbs drawing circles on the skin, leaving you goosebumps.

You turn around and sit on the couch and look at Pedro.

“You said you had wonderful ideas of what to do with me on a couch, well...show me"

"Motherfucker..." Pedro comes pushing you to lie on the couch, spreading kisses down your neck, pulling the strap off of your shirt to suck on the skin where he knows it will be marked.

He puts his hand under your shirt, going up until he reaches your breast, squeezing over your bra, teasing your nipples while he keeps kissing your neck.

You say panting between kisses and bites "Go show me... what would you do to me on the couch, huh?"

"I have 15 minutes before go shooting, but I promise I'll show everything tonite"

He is on top of you on the couch, taking off your shirt, spreading kisses around your breasts then you hold the waistband of his pants running your fingers through the button and open it urgently. "Leave it like this..." pulling his cock out of his underwear.

He moves away a little by pulling his jeans at the height of his thighs and moving your panties to the side, sliding two fingers inside your wet pussy.

"Yeah, like that..” you say in the midst of moans.

Now he presses his thumb on your clit. He looks at you with a smile on his face.

You slide your hands through his hair, messing up even more, your hands going down his face, the skin so soft.

"Why you so hot...hm"

Pedro speed up the movements of his finger saying

“Tonight…”

He helps you remove your pants and you intertwine your legs around his waist holding him to you.

You look down, his cock is drooling precum, pink head and burning with horniness.

You take it at the base of his cock and guide it to your entrance in a hurry. A moan that he releases in your ear is enough to make you even wetter.

“You're going to fuck me like this on the couch... I want to see it in the hotel bed, Javier...”

"Are you really going to call me Javier?" Pedro laughs against your neck, his thrusts are slow and firm.

"I will, you haven't changed anything, so I can cal-- oh my God! Pedro!" You can't even finish the sentence the moment Pedro fucks you harder, he holds your legs raising almost the height of his chest. His cock hitting your G.

"More, I need more, please…"

Pedro runs his tongue through your collarbone going up until he finds your lips, biting his lower lip he looks you in the eyes and says..

"Ask me, beg for my dick, but say my name when you moan…"

You beg, you are so horny that you would do whatever he wanted, I would say what he said. You would just obey.

He moves far enough away to open his shirt, he is sweaty, red. You stretch your hand to touch him but he is faster and holds you by the hip making you get on all fours, your arms resting on the sofa, your nails scratching the fabric in search of relief.

Pedro holds your hip and you hear the sound of him spitting, hot saliva running down your pussy, he slide in his cock and holds your hair, pulling you to glue your back to his chest.

"Come on love, give it to me, I'm dying to feel this pussy squeezing me, cumming on my cock…"

He runs his right hand through your body, skillful fingers circling your clit. It only takes a few seconds for you to cum moaning his name, Pedro covering your mouth with his left hand in a failed attempt to muffle the sounds.

"That, one more, one more and I promise you won't regret waiting until tonite."

Pedro fingers you again, your orgasm burning in your stomach, making your body tremble against his.

"That's it, mama, just like that…"

He holds you by squeezing your breasts and punching harder Pedro cums inside you, moaning in your ear talking about how he fucking missed you and won't stop until you can't take it anymore.

You fall on the couch, panting, sweaty and satisfied, for now.

"I’ve missed you…" he pulls you and kisses you while caressing your nipple.

"Me too, and I can't wait for more. Dinner and party?"

He smirks and nods, agreeing, kissing you again.

Pedro gets up and helps you get dressed, and then gets dressed.

"Okay, Mr Hollywood, go to work. You're not going to fool anyone with the face of someone who just came inside me."

"I'm a great actor love, I won a SAG Awards, remember?" You laugh at the way he pretends to hold a trophy.

You say goodbye and you decide to walk around the city before going back to the hotel and waiting for it.

9:00PM

Pedro sends you a message saying that he is in the lobby, but you are not ready yet and ask him to come up and wait for you in the room for a moment.

_What stupid idea was that? _

You don't even worry about dressing up straight anymore.

The moment he enters your room he already pulls you by the back of your neck with one hand and climbs with the other by your right thigh leading you towards the bed.

You can't resist, you already knew this would happen. "Was that your plan?" You question.

Throwing you on the bed and unbuttoning your pants and pulling you by your legs, Pedro licks alternating on your inner thighs until he reaches your pussy pulling your panties aside. Licking lightly, with wet kisses over your clit.

It's an exciting torture to see him rubbing himself on the mattress while sucking your pussy, the vision is surreal.

Between a moan and another that the two release, you say

"Pedro, I don't know what's better, seeing you sucking me or you rubbing yourself on the mattress"

With no answer, he looks you in the eyes and spits in your pussy and sticks his tongue deeper.

And with a deep voice he orders

"Cum for me.”

You take his hand guide to your breast so that he squeezes your nipple. It's not enough for him. Pedro reachs out his other hand and has both of your nipples being squeezed and pinched while fucking you with his tongue.

You cum, so intensely sinking your fingers into his hair that are already wet with sweat.

He looks at you with wet lips and chin…

"That's priceless…." you say moaning lazily.

Pedro gets on his knees in bed, running his hand through his lips, cleaning the remnants of your arousal.

He pulls his shirt over his head, throwing it in a corner on the floor.

You support your elbows on the bed looking at his body. The smooth skin, broad shoulders, the freckles on his wide chest and the small stripe of hair going down the waistband of the pants where you can clearly see his bulge pressing against the jeans.

Without taking his eyes off you, Pedro opens his belt, slowly opening the two buttons and pulling the zipper down.

"Pedro... I want to…"

Pedro looks into your eyes and holds your ankles, caressing your skin and smiling at you, he says

"What, cariño? What do you want? Tell me and I'll give to you…"

You don't say anything, you just smile and get on your knees on the bed, pushing Pedro to bed, you hold the waistband of his jeans, your fingers playing with the edge of his underwear, feeling his skin shiver when your nails touch him.

You pull out your pants and throw them in the corner where his shirt is.

You settle in between his legs, your nails stroking through his thighs, up and down, you feel how his body is tense, impossible to ignore the perfect vision of Pedro lying down, his hands behind his head. As relaxed as he tries to look, you know he's anxious, his cock outline in his white boxer underwear, the small pre-cum stain.

You slide your hands until you almost touch his balls, Pedro sighs, his cock twitches against the fabric of his underwear, you smile and bring your face closer to his cock, slowly pulling his underwear making his cock jump on your face.

His hard cock, the pink tip dripping pre cum, the side vein pulsing non-stop, begging for touch.

You hold his cock by the base, raising your hand until your thumb spreads the pre cum at the tip, Pedro moans and reaches his hand to caress your face.

"Please don't make me wait any longer" Pedro begs softly

You hold his cock and first lick it, taking it all wet from the tip, sucking the tip of the cock feeling Pedro tangle his hands in your hair, you swallow his cock until you feel it in your throat. Pedro moans loudly and squeezes your hair

"Oh baby, like that, swallow all my dick like that, fuck!"

You jerk him off while sucking him, with your free hand you caress his balls, Pedro moans, the sounds that come out of his mouth are pornographic, making your pussy get even more wet. You think you could make fun just seeing him like this, destroyed.

You stop and look at him with desire.

"What?" He asks as he caresses your face.

"Can you dim the light? You're making me lose my mind..."

He dims the lights on the side of the bed and goes to the mini bar taking a bottle of champagne and opens it, taking a long sip.

_He walking hard in the middle of room is too much for me I can’t even speak_

He goes back to bed and leaves the bottle on the bedside table, he kneels between your legs and holds his cock by the base and slides up and down over your pussy, pushing against your clit. He moans seeing the way your pussy wets his cock.

"Do you want more?"

“Yes..”

"How much more?"

“Everything..”

So he bends down and kiss you distributing licks on your jaw and neck.

"Slow down?"

Pedro slides his cock with a low moan, his hands holding your hip firmly, he fucks you with short and firm movements.

"Faster?" He asks smiling

You just nod your head taking your arms around the back of his neck pulling him down.

He wraps his arms around your waist making you arch your back and thrust in it deep once, twice.

You moan with pain and pleasure at the same time trying to get used to his cock and his movements.

Wiping one hand across his forehead hand with his other on your ass he fucks you harder, the sound that echoes in the room of skin with skin is exciting along with your moans.

"Come to me, mama.."

He takes his dick off of you with a grunt.

Feeling that sudden emptiness Pedro puts you on all fours grabbing your ass, he slides inside you again.

Your already soaked pussy is an easy target.

He holds you with one hand by the hair and another hand rubbing your clit while licking your neck saying words in your ear that you already can't understand.

He stops moving and you see that he stretches his hand, wait, is he picking up the bottle?

You turn your head to the right and look at the mirror in the closet, your pussy throbs with the vision

Pedro holding your hip with his left hand, slowly putting his cock in you while his right hand holds the bottle, taking several sips. You moan when you see him sweaty, his hair sticking to his forehead, your eyes go down to his chest, his belly and your eyes stop where he is in you, his cock going in and out, the sounds that your bodies make.

He takes the bottle out of his mouth and looks at you in the mirror…

"Happy Birthday to me mama" he smiles and drops the bottle on the floor, not caring about the mess, Pedro holds your hips with both hands, and goes hard and faster.

"Oh Pedro, please please don't stop!"

He turns you around, pulling your legs and putting it on his broad shoulders, then shove into you again deep and fast.

"So, baby? That's how you like my dick? Opening you all up? Soaking all my dick? Tell me"

His voice is low, hoarse and horny, he's a mess.

You can't say anything but moans and supplications that he doesn't stop, you're so close, your legs start to shake.

Pedro suck on his thumb and rub it on your clit, making circular and torturous movements.

"Fuck! Please, Pedro fuck me..”

"Damn, I love it when you beg for my cock, beautiful! Cum for me, babe"

He keeps circling your clit, his strong and fast thrusts lead you to orgasm, shouting his name as he bends down and holds your neck kissing you, he says between moans

"Look at me, I want to cum looking at you"

Pedro's moans are as high as yours, you feel the hot jets of cum flood your pussy, the way his cock throbs inside you. The way he looks at you as he cums, his lips half open, eyes fixed on you, his hand on your neck making the grip stronger.

"Fuck!"

He falls on you, your legs circle him, holding him as close as possible, you kiss his face, feeling him give a little kiss on your shoulder.

"For a 49 yr old man you can tire me" you laugh and Pedro bites your shoulder and comes out of you, a moan escaping from his lips. He lies next to you, pulling you to lay your head on his chest.

"I think this is one of the best birthdays I've ever had" he smiles and kiss you.

"Come babe, let’s take a shower and order food, I won't leave here anytime soon."

—————————————————

Thanks for being here and read our delusional fics, likes are appreciate, comments even more. If you want to ask anything, blast it!

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imababblekat · 1 year ago

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Delirium?

@lil-hun-bun , “Raph x fem!Reader where he's taking care of her because she's sick and they end up confessing their feelings for each other, perhaps?”

~xXx~

All it took was one word, and the red cladded ninja turtle was scaling across rooftops to your place of residence. Sick. That’s what you had texted him after rejecting his call to hang out. It had him notably concerned, as there had been times when even if you had a small cough you’d still at the very least enter a video chat with him. However, no interaction at all was very unlike you.

Raphael did his best to conceal his racing thoughts, picking the lock on your window before making his way in. He couldn’t quite understand why he was so worried to begin with. It wasn’t like you were in the hospital or anything else of a more serious level. Part of him was actually quite irritated by the his fretful emotions. Not at you of course, more of what you seemed to do him lately. He’d never been this concerned over something so silly before. Even when one of his brothers or April would come down with a nasty cold, he’d just offer if they needed something from the store and leave it at that. In fact, in most cases he’d leave things to Donnie, unless it was said terrapin who had been ill. Yet when he’d received your message, the thought to ask Donnie or give his brother the heads up, didn’t even cross his mind.

What was it about you in particular that made Raph of all people go out of his way, just by one simple text message?

The answer had struck him when, after giving you a quick heads up to his presence, he entered your room to find you in an unsightly state, his heart dropping in his plated chest.

Across the room, snuggled under a pile of blankets and surrounded by tissues, you lay as pale as your sheets and covered in sweat like on a hot summer afternoon. The weakness in just lifting your head to peer over at the larger turtle and the croak in your voice had Raph’s heart strings tugged.

“Raph? What are you doing here?”

It wasn’t even a second after finishing your question that you fell into a fit of coughs, and Raphael was quick to make his way to your beside, taking off and opening the small backpack he’d brought with him. Inside were bottles of water and multiple types of medicine he’d dumped in his rush to get to you.

“What da ya think? You don’t answer my call, send me a one worded text with no further explanation, and expect me to not show up?”

You gingerly reached for a water bottle he’d opened and offered you, sitting up as best you could to take a few sips and completely unware at Raph’s resistance to assist you.

“To be honest, I would have expected Donnie, but you’re a nice surprise.”

Raph raised a brow ridge, sitting at your feet, the bed dipping with his weight and you’re feet resting against his thigh beneath the blankets.

“I’m not sure how to take that, so I choose to take it as a compliment.”

You giggled at his scowling face, eyes crinkling in the corner. Man, even when bed ridden, Raphael couldn’t deny the way you caused a light flutter of butterflies in his stomach. However, the sweet moment hadn’t lasted long when you suddenly erupted into another, heavier fit of coughs. Seeing you turn over to your side, nearly dropping and spilling the water in your hand had he’d not rushed to grab it for you with his quick reflexes, Raph felt a newfound type of panic.

“Hey, don’t go dyin on me now, doll. Tell me what I can do.”

His voice was softer than usual, you almost hadn’t heard him, but you did, and could just about feel the deep worriment dripping from each word.

“Got any cough meds in that mystery bag of yours?”, you asked, laying back against your pillows, head pounding and body sore.

There was a minute of rummaging beside you, when your normally brutish friend procured a plastic bottle with red liquid within.

“Um, I’ve got this?”

You took a peak, too tired to sit up again.

“Cough syrup. That’ll work.”

Raphael said nothing in reply, simply working to get the lid off and pour the heavy cherry smelling liquid into the small cup it came with. No words were spoken or asked, as a large hand, one usually so fierce had cradled and lifted your head with the upmost care and gentleness. Raph watched as you slurped down the cough syrup, cringing at the sickly gag you let out once finished, before just as gently resting your head back down against your pillow.

“Need anythin’ else?”, he questioned, hand resting on the dip of your side as you slowly rolled over to face him.

“Yeah.”, you mumbled, snuggling into your covers but keeping your gaze tiredly focused on his, “For you to know I mean it.”

A small chuckle left Raph’s beautiful lips.

“Mean what?”

“What I said earlier.”, you murmured, reaching a shaky hand from your covers to reach for the wrapped hand resting by your pillow.

Even in such a weak state, the light caresses you made across Raphaels large hand was enough to cause his heart to skip a beat. He looked to the side, suddenly feeling pressure under your gaze, his cheeks tinting ever so lightly.

“Pfft, sure. You’re delirious.”

“Raphael.”

The full call of his name, as well as the light squeeze of his hand by your much smaller one, was enough to convince the ninja turtle to take a chance and look your way. Despite the bags under your exhausted eyes and the strands of hair sticking to your sweat clad face, you somehow managed to convey every bit of seriousness and truth to your next words.

“Why is me enjoying having you here instead of anyone else that unbelievable? You’re my closest friend. You know how much like being around you. . .how much I like you.”

The last words were said with your cheeks flushing a lovely red hue, and while you knew Raph was aware of the true cause, maybe, just maybe it could pass as due to being sick. Gently shaking your head, pushing aside the anxiousness in your own chest, you looked back up to offer a silent Raphael a gentle smile.

“And I’m not delirious.”, you reached up to gentle boop his nose.

Raph grasped your hand in his, but didn’t release it as he had started to copy the same soothing motions you had done with his hand a little earlier. His heart felt so full. Just as you caused him to fret so much over a single worded text, only you could make his heart do ninja flips while looking like the plague. Honestly, that somehow made him even more fond of you. Just like all those times you had gone out of your way to care for him, a mutant turtle who people only saw as a burly ball of anger and furry. Perhaps those times of your unique kindness towards him was also why he’d go out of his way to care for you in this moment as opposed to how he would for anyone else.

Maneuvering your hand, Raphael turned his face ever so slightly to place his lips softly against your palm, the feeling of a chaste kiss being left there as he spoke.

“Yah, I know, doll.”

~xXx~

#bayverse raphael x reader #bayverse raph x reader #bayverse raphael #bayverse tmnt x reader #tmnt x reader #aged up tmnt #fluff #comfort #sick reader #female reader #@lil-hun-bun #imababblekat's writing

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the-blue-fairie · 1 year ago

Text

Art by @shes-an-iso – commissioned by me and posted here with permission

Realization.

It is ten years ago and I am watching Frozen.

It is ten years ago and I am watching Elsa transform herself into her truest self, watching her spin threads of blue around herself, seizing power for herself – radical self-actualization.

The glint of Elsa’s ice dress reflects in my eyes as I watch Elsa strut into the sunlight – and I do not have words for why I am so moved.

I do not have words, but the shimmer stays.

It is ten years ago and I am choosing to become a part of the Frozen fandom.

I have lurked in fandom circles before, but never posted a thing, never made an account.

It is my first time being part of an online fan community – and, as awful as fandoms can be at times, this fandom – for me – ten years ago – is truly a community.

I begin to make friends in the Frozen fandom.

Some of these friends are trans.

The gleam of Elsa’s hair in the rose-gold dawn shines again in my eyes, and shyly, I begin asking questions of my friends.

Realization is nothing without the words to process it – and my friends give me words, my friends help me to understand.

I am a trans woman.

It is in this online space that I first take the name Liza for myself, since this online space is the only place that I can allow myself to be.

I build for myself. My blog is my own ice palace. What I cannot sculpt in daily life, I carve within online spaces – offering my writing, my thoughts, my edits, my soul to the world.

Everyone here knows me as Liza.

Even as I’m in the closet to my family for years, in here, I am Liza. My friends know me as I am, and as Liza is all they will ever know me.

But I am in the closet. For years.

(It’s why Do You Want to Build a Snowman still breaks me.)

In the closet more out of some misplaced sense of duty to my family than out of dread, though I am scared. Always scared. And then in the closet because I feel it’s better if I bury this. Not better for me, but for them. If I’m bleeding inside, it doesn’t matter. I can put on a show. I have fine-woven gloves. Well-taught decorum. Be the good girl you always have to be, etc.

(Maybe it’s my fault I’m in the closet for years. Anons on this site have told me that in the past. I don’t have it as bad as others in the closet, I’m just a coward, the fault is mine, the fault is mine…)

Fuck off.

(People blame Elsa for the thirteen years in the same way, placing the blame on her and not the tutelage that trained her, because her parents loved her, you see, and love becomes a convenient means of shifting blame to the victim.)

In June 2016, after the Pulse shooting, I make a post about how I’m never going to come out. I am terrified, heartbroken, mangled by grief – but my friends are there for me. My friends send me messages of support, of compassion.

I still cherish the memory of those.

Years pass. When I finally come out to my father, I can barely say the words, barely look him in the eye.

It is ten years since Frozen and I have come out to my family – far too late. I have been on HRT more than a year now.

(My dad still misgenders me when he thinks I’m out of earshot. He resents when I get frustrated with him over this.)

It is ten years since Frozen and I am Elsa on the North Mountain, staring into the whirlwind of an uncertain future, defiant and scared.

And I know – I know – that I didn’t process I was trans because of the film – it was because of the friendship of fellow trans people, trans people who happened to be Frozen fans a decade ago – but my journey of self-realization, my time in the closet, my creation of a sense of self, are so entwined with memories of Frozen that I can’t help but think of it when thinking about my own transition…

Can’t help but think of Elsa, hips swaying, arms outstretched, flashing, radiant –

Happy tenth anniversary, Frozen.

And thank you. Thank you.

(This is okay to reblog. In fact, please do. It is a sliver of my soul that I offer to the world.)

#frozen #elsa #transgender #trans #bigfrozensix #disney frozen

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cigsaftersuh · 1 month ago

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૮ meaningless friends ྀིა .ᐟ

prev. 𐙚 next

ㅡ my forever only.

the news of aunt jia visiting left jaehyun sitting in the living room, his phone resting on the arm of the couch after sending that text. he sighed, leaning back as his eyes traced the familiar ceiling. for as long as he could remember, aunt jia’s visits always came with her sharp tongue and the kind of "advice" no one asked for. it had been easier to tune her out before, but now that you were his wife, his forever, he felt like he had a duty to shield you, even if you weren’t physically here this time.

he glanced down at his phone again, rereading his own message. i can’t allow that disrespect towards either of us.

the words hit harder as he thought about everything you two had been through. jia had always been skeptical of the bond you two shared, constantly nitpicking how close you were growing up. and now that you were finally married? he could only imagine the ammunition she’d think she had.

his mom’s voice broke his thoughts. "jia’s running late, but she’ll be here soon," she said, walking into the living room with a bowl of peeled fruit for him. her tone was casual, but jaehyun could tell she was bracing herself too. it wasn’t like his parents were entirely immune to his aunt’s opinions either.

“i don’t get why she has to visit unannounced,” jaehyun muttered, accepting the fruit and plopping a slice into his mouth. “she’s going to start her usual stuff, i already know. and i’m not gonna let her talk about yn like that.”

his mom replied with a small, understanding smile as she sat beside him. “you’re protective,” she teased, “but jia’s still family, even if she doesn’t know when to stop, so you still need to be respectful to her” she says sternly.

“exactly,” he replied, leaning forward, resting his elbows on his knees in an attempt to stop them from bouncing. “she doesn’t know when to stop. i’ll be respectful, but i’m not going to let her talk down to me or—” he hesitated, his voice softening, “my wife.”

his mom placed a hand on his shoulder. “she might surprise you, you know. and if she doesn’t, well... your dad and i will back you up if you need it.”

that reassurance helped ease some of the tension in his chest, though he still wasn’t looking forward to the visit.

a knock on the door signaled aunt jia’s arrival, and jaehyun straightened up as his dad went to answer it. the moment she walked in, the air shifted slightly. jia had always been one to appear more put together than she naturally was, her sharp eyes scanned the house as she shrugged her coat off.

“jia, welcome,” his dad greeted warmly, stepping aside to let her in.

“it’s good to see you, brother,” she replied, though her smile was tight. her gaze quickly landed on jaehyun, and he caught the slight raise of her eyebrow. “jaehyun. you look... tired. marriage must be quite the adjustment, hm?”

he resisted the urge to roll his eyes. “nice to see you too, aunt jia,” he replied politely, standing to greet her with a brief bow. “marriage has been great, actually.”

she hummed, clearly unconvinced, as she set her bag down. “well, i suppose it’s still the honeymoon phase. enjoy it while it lasts.”

his mom quickly intervened, offering tea and snacks as a distraction. jaehyun stayed quiet for the most part, letting his parents handle the small talk. but as soon as the conversation shifted to you, he felt his jaw tighten.

“i hear y/n is out with friends,” aunt jia said, her tone light but carrying that familiar edge. “i hope she’s not neglecting her duties now that she’s a wife.”

jaehyun’s dad cleared his throat, clearly trying to steer the conversation elsewhere, but jaehyun didn’t let it slide.

“y/n’s amazing at everything she does,” he said firmly, his tone calm but leaving no room for argument. “she’s balancing it all perfectly.”

jia gave him a pointed look, but his stone cold gaze didn’t falter. “that’s good to hear,” she said after a moment, though her tone didn’t match her words.

“i mean, shouldn’t she be spending time with her husband now that she’s married?”

jaehyun’s jaw tightened, but he kept his voice steady. “she’s with her friends, yeah. she’s allowed to have time with them.” he responded nonchalantly.

jia’s lips curled into a mocking smile. “oh, i’m sure she is. but as a wife... well, she has responsibilities of her own, jaehyun. she shouldn’t be running off with her friends. don’t you think it’s a little... selfish? leaving you all alone like this?”

jaehyun clenched his fists, trying to keep his composure. “it’s not like that. y/n has every right to enjoy her time with her friends. it doesn’t mean she loves me any less.”

“but it does mean something, doesn’t it?” jia pressed, her eyes narrowing. “when she’s out doing whatever while you’re here, waiting... it doesn’t say much for her priorities, does it? i mean, don’t you feel a little neglected?”

before jaehyun could respond, his father interjected, his tone firm. “jia, that’s enough. y/n is her own person. jaehyun and y/n have always had a healthy relationship built on trust. stop trying to make something out of nothing.”

“oh, i’m not trying to make anything up,” aunt jia retorted with a sarcastic laugh. “i’m just saying, married couples should be together, especially when one of them is just sitting around while the other is out. there’s no excuse for that.”

jaehyun’s mom spoke up, clearly irritated now. “that’s enough. y/n is more than capable of managing her time. she’s not neglecting her marriage, and she doesn’t need to explain herself to you.”

jia raised an eyebrow, her expression mocking. “oh, she’s capable, huh? well, i just don’t see why she can’t spend more time with her husband. if it were me, i’d make sure my husband came first.”

jaehyun’s patience was stretched thin now, his voice trembling slightly with annoyance. “you don’t understand. y/n is doing nothing wrong. we trust each other. i trust her.”

his father leaned forward, his voice sharp. “we trust her, too, jia. y/n has never done anything to betray that trust. your comments are out of line.”

jia smirked, crossing her arms. “oh, i know what i see. and if you’re not careful, jaehyun, she might just keep pulling away from you. she might start choosing meaningless things over her marriage. it’s not a good sign.”

“don’t ever call our friends meaningless. y/n’s friends are important to her — the same way mine are to me. you don’t get to decide what’s valuable in our lives. those people matter to her, and that includes me.”

his voice contained a mixture of frustration and hurt as he continued, “it’s not about choosing anything over our marriage. it’s about trusting each other to have time apart, and allowing us to grow, to be ourselves. you don’t understand what we have.”

“she’s right, jia. y/n’s friendships are part of who she is. there’s no shame in spending time with people she cares about.” jaehyun’s mom breaks the silence first, sensing the tension in the air.

but aunt jia wasn’t done yet. “oh, i’m sure they’re lovely friends,” she said, her tone dripping with sarcasm. “but if y/n keeps putting them first, jaehyun, you might end up losing her. that’s all i’m saying.”

jaehyun’s eyes welled with tears, the words cutting deeper than he had expected. he wiped his eyes quickly, but the emotion surged again as he spoke, his voice cracking. “you have no idea what y/n and i have been through. she’s not pulling away. she would never do that to me. we trust each other. but you... you just want to tear us apart.”

his mom’s voice softened. “stop, jia. you’re making him upset. you’re crossing a line.”

jaehyun’s dad stood, his expression stern. “you don’t get to talk about our son and daughter-in-law like this. they’ve been together a long time, and they’ve built something strong. you don’t get to undermine that.”

the silence in the room felt suffocating. jaehyun wiped at his face, shaking his head as he turned toward the door, his voice barely above a whisper. “i don’t need this. i don’t need you to tell me what’s going to happen. i know what we have, and i’m more than happy with it.

his aunt’s gaze flickered for a moment, but she just let out a little laugh, brushing it off. “i’m just being honest. sometimes honesty hurts, but it’s necessary.”

with love,

ʚ taglist - open ɞ

@cstarry @hyuckleberriii @beacauseimmaya @jeongjaeleftbicep @lesuneczka @cryingforjae @ctrlstar @youaremysecretworld @douqhnxtss @dearlyminhyung @jaemnationnn @jaeyunluvbot @nonverdolly

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cafeinthemoon · 6 months ago

Text

It's a Fire - Chapter IV

Chapter 4

Wordcount 4,3k

Title Difficult Task

Fandom Kimetsu no Yaiba / Demon Slayer

Previous chapters

1 . 2 . 3

Symbols ⭕ ➕ 🖤

Warnings: mentions of grief and loss; parent issues; feelings of abandonment and rejection; issues between employees and employer

Tagging @chiyokoemilia (If you want to be tagged in any of my stories, just leave a comment on this chapter or send an ask or a message)

N. A.: This chapter took days to be finished, not only bc of its length, but mainly bc I was finding it a bit confusing. I wasn't sure of how I should portrait this "advance" in reader and Shinjuro's relationship, neither how much of reader and Senjuro's grief after the scene in the living room: sometimes I thought I just wrote enough, and other times I though it wasn't as emotional as it should be, so that what you're going to read is the best I could come up with.

Soon I'm going to return to work, so Idk how things will be, so I ask you a bit of patience and thank you in advance for supporting me :)

It wasn’t shame what you felt when you looked into your stepson’s eyes, neither it was fear or irritation for being caught in a place where you shouldn’t be: it was the concern that he might have observed your face for long enough to read your emotions with too precision for someone his age. And, in fact, you were tempted to show a passionate reaction, whether to confirm or to deny your feelings, just for the sake of getting that weight off your chest, but you tightened the reigns around your tongue and didn’t do any of this.

This is adults’ problem. He doesn’t need to share this load with us.

Senjuro looked around, as if waiting for someone to show up suddenly and, after making sure it wouldn’t happen, stepped into the room.

– So… you found out about the living room? – he questioned with the usual hesitation – It’s been a while since this place was visited. Except for the maid.

You still felt your eyes burning with the things you were seeing there, but you wouldn’t burst out in tears. You sighed and crossed your arms.

– Yes, I can see that – after an embarrassing silence, you forced a smile while observing the photographs – Now I understand why I had no permission to enter this room. I should’ve obeyed the rules.

– But you’d find out about this sooner or later, I guess – was the boy’s reply – And my father isn’t here, anyway. Not even he uses to come here anymore.

You swallowed.

– If that’s the case, we better leave before he returns to the house.

He agreed and you walked out at that moment, taking care not to mess up anything, thus creating proof of your passage there.

***

You were sitting on a wood bench somewhere in the garden, as you used to do during the breaks between one training session and another or when you decide to eat lunch there, which was that day’s case. It was a safe spot to relax, as well as to talk.

And you had too much to talk.

Still embarrassed, you took the responsibility of starting the conversation.

– I should never enter that room. No matter if I escaped without being caught, it was wrong. But it’s too late for regrets now, I guess.

You said those things with a calm that surprised even yourself. When you first spotted Senjuro in the doorway, you swore you wouldn’t be able to look at him again, and even worse it would be to face your husband once he got back, trying your best to hide what you did from him, but that wasn’t how you felt now. You were rather sad for what you discovered, and for the things such discovery implied.

Senjuro noticed this too, and he said that to you.

– You don’t seem so mad about the photographs, y/n. I thought you’d be offended that my father keeps them in an entire room instead of, like, a drawer.

You gave him a sad smile.

– Why would I be mad by this? I mean, I could imagine him keeping photographs and other memories in drawers like you say, and seeing the whole room full of them was… unexpected. Still, I’m no one to judge – you lowered your tone, as if the next thing you’d share with him was more of a delicate conclusion – Instead, seeing them got me thinking about your situation here.

The boy frowned.

– Situation? What do you mean?

You moved on your spot, as to shake off the discomfort of entering that strange territory.

– Well, I’ve been avoiding intrusions, but this time I can’t help it. Senjuro-san, your family... was beautiful with your mother and your elder brother there. I’ve felt that as soon as I’ve put my eyes on those photographs. Your father… – you felt your cheeks getting hot with what you were about to say, but you ignored the sensation – He’s a completely different person by their side, and yours. He looks really happy there. I could never imagine him like that, you know? I guess this is what surprised me most – you bit your lip – Because, when I found out I’d have to live with you, I had no idea of what I’d see here, and after the things I’ve experienced, seeing our life together as something positive was impossible. But, then, I’ve saw your family as it once was… And understood that the issue is deeper than it first looked. The loss you’ve both endured… that’s too much…

A leaf fell from the tree behind your bench. Senjuro held it on his right hand.

– I understand what you’re trying to say. I was too little when my mother passed away, so I barely remember her except through the photographs and the things my father and my brother told me. I only remember what happened to my father when he lost her. My brother would speak more about this if he was here because he felt that too, even more after he became a Hashira – the leaf twirled between his fingers while he spoke – Slowly, that enthusiastic, gentle man who raised us turned into a bitter stranger. He started to drink. He spent most of his time in his room, and when he left it, he barely looked at us. Everything he held dear lost its value to him. It was strange, like watching someone you love dying in front of you, while another person takes their place. It was like losing him soon after losing my mother…

Senjuro’s voice cracked a bit in those last words. When you raised your eyes to him, you noticed him sobbing. You didn’t think twice: approaching the boy, you just passed your arms around him, as to assure his right to cry. You looked around, at the weather, and realized the blur in your sight: you were crying yourself too.

You did your best to put yourself together, and waited until your stepson was able to do the same.

– When my mother died, my father changed too – you adjusted yourself in your spot – He never had a problem with drinking or anything like this, but he wasn’t the same man who raised me. He started to isolate himself and making senseless decisions concerning our house, our business and everything else. Half of our staff left us, and even the people of our village noticed we were having problems. Our situation became worse when the stories about Oni started spreading among the common folk, and my father, not knowing how to deal with the financial problems and too proud to seek for help, was about to go insane – you swallowed – I’ve tried to help him, I’ve tried to reason with him, but he wouldn’t let me. He thought it was easier to send me away and stay there, rotting inside that house while demons devastated our lands at night – you felt your lower lip starting to tremble and continued to speak, to avoid a stronger reaction – He abandoned himself, abandoned our people…

At that point you gave up and fell silent, but Senjuro finished the thought for you.

– ...And abandoned you – he glanced at you – No wonder you burned his letter without opening it.

Your heart ached with the memory, but it wasn’t remorse what you felt.

– This is something I don’t regret. As much as I don’t regret defending you from Rengoku-sama. I mean, now I can see that life showed no mercy on him, but treating you like that was terrible and unfair, and the same can be said about my father. Their suffering makes us comprehend them, but it doesn’t excuse their mistakes.

– And what do you think we must do, y/n?

You opened your mouth, but closed it again to think of a sensible response.

It’s strange to tell someone what to do. Is this what’s expected from parents? What a duty to fulfill...

– In your father’s case, I believe we can stay as we are – you spoke slowly – Since we know he’s been enduring so much, we won’t do anything to increase his load. At the same time, we can’t let him cross boundaries and treat us as he wants.

Senjuro seemed to approve the idea, but he still had concerns.

– It makes sense. I’ve been doing this since I can remember, but I still feel guilty. When I see my father in that state, I think I should be doing something for him – he sighed – Sometimes, I think this is what he expects from me, and that’s why he acts so harshly.

That was your time to be concerned. You’ve already noticed that, due to his easygoing nature, Senjuro had a tendency of taking heavy burdens to himself, but you wouldn’t sit and watch him giving in to this inclination and becoming an adult before his natural time just because the real adult was unable to act like one.

– But you already do what you can for him, Senjuro-san. You’re a good and respectful son. You keep your things organized and clean, and don’t mind doing hard work. It doesn’t matter if your father says that out loud or keeps it to himself, I’m sure he knows that.

– Do you think so? – his doubt was genuine; it was clear that he never tried to see things from such perspective.

– Yes – you replied with all the possible firmness – You can continue to act with kindness, but it’s not your duty to fix him. Honestly, even I don’t know if there’s something I can do for Rengoku-sama besides staying out of his way. Yet being too hard on ourselves because of this won’t help us at all.

Senjuro thought of that for a moment.

– It also means that you don’t know what you have to do to help your father?

You moved your head slowly in agreement.

– Yes. It does.

– But don’t you think you can find a way if you talk to him?

You looked away. You clearly weren’t expecting that. Still, you didn’t avoid the question.

– I don’t know. I really don’t know.

***

You could say you’ve worked hard to act according to your own words in the days that followed that conversation. You created a routine that included waking up early and taking time to organize your surroundings just like you used to do in your father’s house, then leaving to the kitchen to prepare breakfast (that was a task that Senjuro took to himself since the cook decided to quit, so having you there to take care of this spared him time and avoided more of his father’s scolding for minor mistakes and waste of ingredients); after that, you would leave with your stepson to your usual training session, and then you took separate ways in your daily activities: while he stood with tasks outside the house, you took the responsibility of cleaning and organizing the interior, thus giving the servants the chance of going back home while the sun was still high in the sky instead of being forced to spend the night there, away from their families; finally, while Senjuro returned to his room to study, you would go to your own to bathe and relax.

It was simple, and it worked for everyone… or so you told yourself every time you remembered that your husband wasn’t included in this perfect scheme. Thing was that, since the incident with the wood sword, he actively avoided you in the rooms and corridors, which didn’t make much to shake your moods – instead, you were relieved with this distance; however, after the day you found the photographs, you were the one mimicking such behavior, and your almost non existent relationship just turned into a sequence of unexpected, embarrassing encounters where opening your mouth to say “good morning” was harder than passing by each other and running away.

There was one day when, to answer the plead of a maid, you had to swallow this embarrassment and replace it with courage: while you were cleaning a room not so far from yours, she confided to you that her payment has been delayed, as well as the other servants’.

– I have some debts I need to pay, and I’ve been trying to gain some time with my creditors, but they’re getting impatient – she explained – In normal circumstances, I would’ve paid everything already, but now I’m really desperate, y/n-sama.

You frowned.

– I see. But how did everything turn out this way?

The girl approached you, as to reveal some shameful secret.

– I know it’s none of my concern, but I’ve seen things in this house, and the other servants, who have been here for longer than me, told me what they’ve saw – she whispered – Since the previous lady’s decease, problems concerning the house’s workers became common. The previous accountant left his position and no one was hired in his place, so the financial responsibility was on the young Senjuro. Of course, he’s an honest boy and did what he could to help, but he’s not a professional, and sometimes mistakes were made. The people who still work here haven’t left yet in consideration for him, and because they really need the jobs. It’s Takumi-san’s case. Last time he tried to reason with Rengoku-sama, he became furious and gave him two choices: to go back to work or to leave and never return – she shrugged – He decided to stay, but only if a solution appears. He’s one of our best workers. If he leaves, things will become even worse for us.

You had to stop for a moment to process the things you’ve just heard. You immediately remembered that young man who had a bottle of sake thrown at him in the corridor.

So, that was the cause of Shinjuro’s outburst. Unbelievable.

The situation at the Rengoku’s house was even worse than your father’s: the servants just gave up on their work and left, except for the few in desperate circumstances, and the whole responsibility over the finances has been tossed at a kid? That time, you couldn’t just ignore it.

– Listen, I… I’m really surprised with this situation, as much as I may seem – you told her, not hiding the shame even though it wasn’t your fault – Senjuro-san never told me anything about this, otherwise I would’ve already done something. I’m... really sorry for this. But now that I’m informed, what can I do to help you?

The maid hesitated. She knew the difficult of what she was going to ask.

– Please, y/n-sama, talk to Rengoku-sama in our name – she bowed her head – We know he has a… complex temper, but he seems to respect you. Maybe there’s a chance of him to listen to you.

Well, if the financial issues were surprising to you, the reasons behind the maid’s request were shocking. The servants thought Shinjuro respected you? That man who barely looked at your direction? What a situation you’ve gotten into… But you couldn’t make it even worse by bringing the maid’s – and the whole staff’s – expectations down by telling her that you were too insecure to speak to your husband about a domestic problem, so you did what in other circumstances you’d never consider possible.

– Don’t worry – you swallowed – I will speak to him as soon as possible.

After an effusive “Thank you”, she left to tell the others about your resolution.

The glow of relief and gratitude in the girl’s eyes soothed part of your anxiety, but solely because you knew you were doing the right thing – it had nothing to do with your task being easy. Truth was that you didn’t even know where you should start: should you look for Shinjuro in his room or to wait until you’d meet him in another part of the house? Was it better to bring the subject right in the beginning of the conversation, or should you warm up until the appropriate moment? And, of course, how was he going to react? That is, you saw what he did to the young man; there was nothing to assure you that he wouldn’t try anything like that toward you.

You finished your work and went out to deliberate. You walked around the house, in and out of the garden, trying to come up with a reasonable solution, but nothing occurred to you. That time you also weren’t going to talk to your stepson: Senjuro would be informed about the situation only after everything was solved, and the same would be in the case of the servants, to avoid a commotion.

I’m really alone in this.

As it used to happen when you were lost in your thoughts, you didn’t realize where your wanderings were taking you to until you stopped and looked around… and recognized the front of Shinjuro’s porch. You froze in your spot, less because of this than because you almost bumped into him on the way.

You startled and covered your mouth to avoid a scream. You stepped back and stood there, staring at the man, who was also surprised to meet you so suddenly in a part of the building you weren’t often seen. But, just like it happened to you now, he seemed to anxious to inquire you.

Somehow you were the first to speak.

– Rengoku-sama… I…

You moved your lips, but no words were found to continue the sentence. Your eyes lowered to his hands, and it was with a sort of relief that you noticed the absence of a bottle. Did the sake finish and he was going to get more, or did he see you approaching and got rid of it before you saw it? You couldn’t tell, but at that moment you recalled your previous encounters with him and realized that, since the conflict at the garden, in each of them, he wasn’t drinking, yet sake was still being bought judging by the bottles you always saw piling up in the kitchen.

Is he avoiding to drink in my presence?

– You wanted to speak to me, y/n? – his voice brought you back to reality; your relief grew when you noticed the composed tone in it.

– Yes. Yes, I… – you hid your hands behind your back – There’s an issue I need to discuss with you.

Shinjuro showed no signs of being bothered by the word issue, unlike you were expecting. Instead, he seemed intrigued: you’ve been doing your things all by yourself since you were brought to his house, and now you wanted to talk to him about something? That was new.

– And what is it?

You breathed deep.

The time is now. What do I have to do?

You glanced behind him and saw his room’s door was open. That gave you an idea.

– Would you mind talking somewhere else? – you shrugged – A private place, maybe?

He didn’t make objections to this, indicating his room and inviting you to follow him.

***

As he sat with his legs crossed, you knelt in front of him, having the door, left open, at your right. Your hands were over your lap, as you waited to see what he was going to do.

By all means, Shinjuro was a practical man, so that fortunately he didn’t let this waiting to extend.

– So, what is it that you need to discuss with me? – he inquired – I suppose it must be too important, for you to seek for me so suddenly.

– In fact – you confirmed; and, taking a deep breath, – But it’s nothing related to myself, actually. It’s about the people who work in here.

You noticed a slight twist on his lips when he heard that, but you gave no time for him to react.

– I was told that the servants are facing struggles with the decreasing in the personnel, and that my stepson was left to take care of the matters despite this – you moved on your spot; your feet, folded under your legs, started causing you discomfort, but you ignored it – I won’t discuss this arrangement, but there are problems that need attention right now and, because I am your wife, I was asked to seek for a solution alongside you.

Unlike you imagined, Shinjuro listened to all of this in silence, and after you finished he kept quiet. No physical or verbal outbursts followed, but if he was measuring what he just heard or trying to control his irritation, you couldn’t tell, and that was worse: with the usual anger and bad moods you could deal with, whether by running away or facing him, but with the absence of them you didn’t know what to expect. You clenched your hands against each other.

Come on, say something. Even if it’s just to call me an intruder. Just odn’t let me without a response.

And, then, Shinjuro gave you a response… and though you didn’t know what you were waiting for, it was different from anything you could’ve expected.

– The servants’ payments are delayed. I know that – he started; no impatience was sensed in his tone, just a sort of boredom – Our accountant left, and no one was able to properly replace him. Senjuro found out about this and asked to do something, and I had no choice. He’s better with paper and ink than with a sword. Besides, having responsibilities would be good for him to grow up.

You made an inhuman effort not to gasp at his justifications. Did he really think leaving that work for a kid was a good idea? But you reminded yourself that you weren’t there to argue, but to fix the problem, so you let him continue.

– Of course, I knew it wouldn’t work forever, and if you came to talk about this, it’s because it needs to change – he sighed – But let me tell you that the payments aren’t delayed for no reason. Things have been difficult for us, and hiring someone to manage finances won’t be cheap. It’s something we can’t deal with it right now. So, what do you suggest? Should I hire a new accountant anyway?

You opened your mouth, then closed it again. You understood that, if Shinjuro wasn’t even trying to hide those problems, they must have become really serious. You also knew that the services of accountants and administrators weren’t cheap, but that wasn’t a good reason to let everything to Senjuro.

I can’t believe I’m going to propose this…

Your husband asked a suggestion, and you ended up offering the only one you could think of.

– Let this task with me, Rengoku-sama – you bowed, leaning your hands on the floor but not touching it with your forehead – I used to do this sort of work while in my father’s house in the times we were on a budget and unable to hire someone for it. I didn’t continue to work on this when the crisis with the Oni started because I was sent here.

He thought of this for a moment… And the response he gave you brought out some unpleasantness, both in his words and the subject.

– Leaving the money in your hands to manage? Y/n, I do believe your father let you work on this, but I can’t help finding it strange that, exactly when your lands were facing the worst crisis in a long time, he decided to send you away instead of keeping you there to take care of everything.

Still with your head bowed, you bit your lip.

Are you calling me an incompetent or what?

Shinjuro was aware of the delicate state in which your relationship with father was, so bringing it to the table right now had no intention but to test you: would you have the necessary stability to take such responsibility? As if he had any right to speak of stability… Well, in spite of that, he was the head of that house, thus having the final word in this matter, so if he decided to decline your offer, he would do it without thinking twice, and then your attempt to help the workers – as well as their trust in you – would drift away.

Alright, start whining and all this conversation will end up useless. I’ll swallow my inflamed ego, then.

You raised your head, ignored the provocation and sent it back to your husband.

– I agree. It’s really strange when you put it that way, Rengoku-sama… – your hands relaxed on your lap – As much as it’s strange that, despite the similar issues in you house which you’ve just addressed, you accepted me as an extra mouth to feed under your roof.

Not so strange when we remember the existence of my dowry, I mean.

If Shinjuro guessed this very thought or if he was not in the mood to continue that discussion, you’d never know, but that was precisely what he did: gave up on arguing and just left it up to you.

He stood up and walked to the porch, indicating that the conversation was over.

– Do as you wish, then. The old accountant’s office is on the other side of the house. It’s easier to access it if you walk around the porch. Senjuro knows exactly where it is. Ask him for help if you need it.

You stared at him for a moment. So everything was solved so easily? Or was it just you who were exaggerating the difficult of your task? It was impossible to know, and you wouldn’t stay there to find out: you just accepted the results and stood up, heading to the exit.

You passed by your husband and bowed again.

– Thank you for accepting my proposal, Rengoku-sama. I’ll do my best.

The only response you had from him was a nod, and you left to find the said office thinking of how strange was that man you married, how tricky it has been for you to understand him and what sort of things were waiting for you in that corner of the house.

#kimetsu no yaiba fanfic #demon slayer fanfic #kimetsu no yaiba x reader #demon slayer x reader #kimetsu no yaiba shinjuro #kny shinjuro #shinjuro rengoku #rengoku shinjuro x reader #shinjuro x reader

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