#Sending the best wishes out to all of you btw! I hope your day is going well! ^-^ | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

nicka-nell · 4 months ago

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omg ur taking requests!

can you do some angst to fluff with Atsumu, Iwaizumi, Suna, Kuroo, Ushijima, and Sakusa (I’m sorry if they’re too many you can choose whoever you want to write about from these characters, I luv all of them soooo much)

Can you make it like really really Angsty in the start. Like the characters doing something they’ll regret a lot and then they spend a lot of efforts making up for it? Please make it fluffy in the end, I can’t handle sad endings 😭

Also please don’t include anything with infidelity or mentions of it. My boyfriend of 3 years cheated on me last month and I’m having such a hard time.

Thank you for considering my request. And there’s no pressure to accept, I don’t mind at all.

Hi! yes I am taking requests right now. 😇 First of all, I'm so sorry that you had such a negative experience. But tbh, you're better off this way. Nobody needs such an ass cheating on them! 😔😤 My ex did that too, with my ex-best friend btw. I also had a hard time but quickly felt better because I realised that it's a waste of time to cry over such a dick. I hope you don't lose hope in a healthy relationship based on trust. There really are good people out there and I hope you find someone who can appreciate you. Sending you a lot of hugs and kisses. 🤗💚❤️‍🩹

And for your request. I've written three stories for Tsumu, Iwa and Suna. Unfortunately they got a bit tooo long for my taste, so I only made these 3. I hope that's okay. I really had problems making it super angsty (urg, I need more practice for angsty stuff 😵‍💫). As you wished, I didn't include anything with cheating (even though I had a few ideas haha.) and I also added a trigger warning before each story. I think Iwa's and Suna's in particular might be a bit darker... so you can decide on your own if you want to continue reading it or not. Anyway, I hope you still like it, and thanks for your request. Stay healthy! 🥰💚

Regretting their actions

Pairing: Atsumu x, Iwaizumi x, Suna x reader

Warning: angst to fluff, break-up (Atsumu, Suna), mention of abuse/anger issues, mention of blood (Iwaizumi), mention of abortion, mention of drugs/pills (Suna)

Part 1 | Part 2 (End)

tw: mention of break-up

You met Atsumu when he came to his brother’s onigiri store for the housewarming.

The two of you got along well quickly. And it wasn’t long before he kissed you at a party, looked at you with his cheeky grin and said, “Tastes better than a victory.”

More things happened that night. Not just simple kisses and when you woke up next to him in bed, he asked you, still sleepy: “You’re my girlfriend now, aren’t you?”

You’ve been together for several years now and were thinking about moving in together soon when Atsumu’s career suddenly took off. He was traveling abroad more often and had less time for you or looking for an apartment.

And then it happened…

You scroll through the apartment search app for something suitable for the two of you, lying on the bed while missing him terribly. You close the app to go to your messenger, only to realize that you were the one who last texted Atsumu... two days ago… Two blue check marks indicate that he has read your messages but has not replied. Your fingers hover over the keypad of your phone and you think about writing to him. Maybe he read your message during training and didn’t have time to reply. Maybe he just forgot about it afterwards... maybe...

“Hey Tsumu... I know you’re busy but, I hope you’re doing well. Love you.” you type into your phone and send the message with a strange feeling in your stomach. It doesn’t take long before you see under his name that he is online. The gray check marks next to your message turn blue, but instead of replying, you see that he went offline again. You swallow a big lump down your throat, your heart feels heavy. Maybe he can’t answer you right now... you try to convince yourself again.

Several hours pass as you sink your head into your pillow and try to stifle your tears. Atsumu’s sports t-shirt is in your arms, which he had given you before his trip abroad. Time passes and suddenly you hear the ringtone of your phone as a message arrives. Your heart hits loud against your chest as you reach for your phone and see your boyfriend’s name. But your joy quickly disappears, the lump in your throat gets bigger and you can’t breathe.

>> Hey... listen, I think it’s better if we end the relationship… break up. I don’t know, but I just don’t have time for it. I’ll see you around. <<

It feels like a slap in the face. As if this is a poor joke. You want to write to him, ask him what this is all about, but your tears blur your vision. The only thing you send is a “really?” but the message is no longer read. It remains on one gray check mark.

Two days go by and you still think it was all a bad joke, but every time you read his message, you feel like throwing up. Has he really dumped the whole relationship? By a shitty text message? You open your Instagram account and enter his name almost as if on autopilot.

Another slap in the face as your tears run down your cheeks again. His bio no longer says “Best setter and proud boyfriend” but simply “Setter MSBY Black Jackal”. All the pictures he had with you on his account have been deleted. Instead, you can only see advertising photos or private photos of him. The last eight pictures are of him, Hinata and Bokuto dancing and having fun with fans in different bars. Atsumu grins at the camera as if he doesn’t care about you at all. As if your relationship meant nothing to him.

You text him some more times, leave him voicemails because he never answers your calls. But after a few days, you let it go. It only frustrates you even more to see how little this relationship actually meant to him. For days, you cry yourself to sleep, what doesn’t go unnoticed by Osamu. After all, he sees you three times a week when you help him out in his store. When you tell him what has happened, he is also speechless, because Atsumu has really pissed him off with all his raving about you. So why would he break-up with you out of the blue? Osamu can’t see you as devastated as a heap of misery. So he also tries to find out the reason for the break-up between you and his silly brother. But when he calls him, Atsumu only faces him coldly on the phone. “Did she tell you to ask me? Leave it okay? I think I just realized that I don’t want a relationship.”

Two months go by and somehow you still can’t believe that your relationship just fell apart. Osamu tries to distract you somehow, but it doesn’t help because he reminds you too much of your idiot ex-boyfriend.

Nevertheless, you are grateful to Osamu for swapping your shift with his coworker’s shift so that you can open the store with him in the morning. That way, you avoid running into Atsumu, who is more likely to be in the restaurant in the evening as soon as he returns from his stay abroad. You’re not ready to face him at the moment.

Just as you’re about to finish work, you remember that you wanted to show Osamu a video on your phone. “Look, the new trailer for the second season of this soccer series is out. Shall we watch the first episode together on Saturday after work?” you ask Osamu as he approaches you and looks over your shoulder. He rests his hand on the counter next to you, his chest almost touching your back, but he keeps his distance from you respectfully. You are both focused on the trailer, not hearing the doorbell from the store.

Atsumu is tired. The flight was delayed, and he hasn’t been able to sleep properly for weeks. How could he sleep well with all the partying and Hinata as his roommate, who spent the night in the hotel calling his friends from Karasuno. At least that’s what he tells himself… that this is the reason for his sleepless nights. But this thought vanishes when he steps into his brother’s store hungry, actually only wanting to eat a few onigiris and then go home. Into his apartment. His empty, dreary apartment. But as he walks through the door of the store, it feels as if someone has hit his chest with full force, knocking the air out of him.

He sees Osamu leaning towards you with a sense of familiarity. What’s going on there? And why does it bother him so much that you giggle and look at Osamu, who returns your gaze with a nod and a smile before turning to the door? His brother winces when he sees Atsumu. As you turn around as well, your smile disappears.

You look at Atsumu as if you’ve just seen a corpse, before packing your bag and saying goodbye to Osamu with a “See you tomorrow.”, only to walk past Atsumu with quick steps. You don’t even give him a glance, knowing that if you locked eyes with him, your tears would run. You would want to ask him questions upon questions. Why did you break up with me? Why am I not enough for you? Why did you lie to me for so long? Why...

As you walk through the door, you accidentally bump into him. This nudge, which was actually rather gentle, felt so painful. Why does it bother Atsumu to see you standing so close to his brother? Why does it hurt him that you stared at him with those empty eyes, as if he were a stranger? No. Worse, as if he were someone who had hurt you. Why does he have the feeling that he couldn’t make a sound if he opened his mouth now? The answer is simple, and even Atsumu seems to understand it by now as he looks from the now closed door over to Osamu, who stares at him with an indifferent expression crossing his arms in front of his chest. “So this is what someone who has realized that he doesn’t want a relationship looks like? Ya look like shit.”

Oh, how Atsumu would love to punch Osamu in the face. “Why are ya touchin’ my girl?” is bitter on his tongue, but he has no right to say it out loud. After all, he was the one who turned you down. The blonde Miya suddenly realizes how incredibly stupid his action was.

Back then, Atsumu had not expected to be traveling abroad so often. At first, it was only temporary stays. Nothing that would damage a relationship.

But the last few times in particular, he was sometimes away for several months. You kept telling him on the phone that everything was okay, but every time he called Osamu, he said that your eyes were sometimes red when you came to work and that you looked tired and sad.

Atsumu knew he was the reason. That you’d probably be better off without him. After all, you’re a great woman, someone who would find a new partner quickly.

You didn’t deserve to be sad all the time when he was gone. You should be happy. After all, a smile suits you so much better than a sad expression.

Atsumu would concentrate on his career. It would be difficult for him at first, but he would manage without you. He had to… for your sake.

So his mind was made up when he read your unanswered, concerned messages. If he texts you now to say that it’s over, being an ass to you, you’ll be able to forget him quickly… That was what he thought.

But it wasn’t that easy. Your puzzled messages, your crying voice on his voicemail, broke his heart. Yet he tried to cover it all up with parties and his dear fans. He convinced himself that he was fine. Only to arrive home, see you and realize what an idiot he was, how much he missed you.

And now it’s Atsumu who reaches for his phone and texts you message after message.

Atsumu 8:02 PM: Hey babe, no.. hey Y/n. I know I have no right to text you. But please… let’s talk. I fucked up. Damn, I fucked up so hard that I don’t even know how to start… shit…

Atsumu 8:12 PM: Please… please answer your phone, babe…

Atsumu 8:44 PM: I know I’ve fucked up. I know I hurt and disappointed you. Fuck, I know I was an ass. Yk, I thought I was doing the right thing.

Atsumu 9:34 PM: Fuck… please answer me… I still… damnit.

That was the last message you received from Atsumu before you put your phone away and tried to forget him. Why is he doing this to you? Why is he stirring up your feelings again?

But Atsumu doesn’t think about stopping now. He runs to your house, to the apartment building and rings your doorbell. Once, twice, he rings so often that you can’t ignore it. You are about to tell him to leave through the loudspeaker system, but he interrupts you.

“Fuck baby, please open the door. I’m… I still love ya, okay? I always loved ya. I - shit, can ya even hear me? Fuck…” he curses agitatedly and presses the bell next to your nameplate again several times.

But instead of letting him in, you go down to the entrance of the apartment building and open the door with an expression on your face that Atsumu has never seen before. What is it? Anger, sadness, despair? Everything somehow.

“Say... are you kidding me? Do you think that’s funny?” you ask him, bewildered, still standing in the open doorway. Of course, you wouldn’t just believe him. Atsumu could have guessed. Your reaction was completely understandable. But he has to do something to show you that he’s serious.

“No, no, I don’t. I’m dead serious. Please let me explain,” he says, and starts to tell you that he thought a break-up would be best for you because he’s not good enough for you. Since you were obviously so sad about him leaving so often and he didn’t want to be the reason. He tells you that he thought he could get over you, but that he had to realize that you are the most important thing to him. Something… someone he doesn’t want to lose. With shaky hands and a still agitated voice, Atsumu takes out his phone.

“I wanted ya to hate me so that it would be easier for ya. But believe me, I... I couldn’t forget ya. Look, you’re still my wallpaper. All the photos of the two of us are still on my phone, all the memories-“ he is about to unlock his screen when his phone falls out of his hand and drops to the floor. Atsumu seems to be completely overwhelmed right now, as if he doesn’t know what to do. Should he bend down, pick up the phone, should he keep talking to you or hug you? He doesn’t know.

”Baby, please, please, I’ll do anything. Please gimme a chance. I’ll talk to my agent about not takin’ so many jobs abroad. I will be with ya more often. Always write to ya and call ya in the evening when I’m not at home. Let’s look for an apartment so we can move in together. Please, please, I would do anything. Please believe me that I love ya. Please..." he begs in a voice that becomes more and more brittle with every word. His eyes are full of emotion and his hands, which have unconsciously reached for yours, are trembling terribly.

“Two months... two months you ignored me, treated me like a piece of trash.” You say in a low voice as you search for eye contact. Atsumu has never felt so scared. Only now does he realize that the love of his life is standing in front of him, and that this might be the last time he’ll see her again, the last time he’ll touch her skin. But then again… Atsumu was an ass, so why should you forgive him? No, he can’t think like that. After all, you loved him. And if you love him as much as he loves you, then maybe there’s still hope.

“I know, and I know I can never make it up to ya. I know it’s not done with an ‘I’m sorry’. I’m the dumbest, most idiotic ex-boyfriend you’ve ever had. But... I’m stubborn too. And if that means chasin’ after ya for 10 years, drivin’ to yer apartment every day to ring the doorbell and tell ya I still love ya, wishin’ ya a good night every day, nice dreams and telling ya how important you are to me... I’ll do it. Every damn day, if it means there’s still a little hope for us.” He answers you hoarsely, keeping eye contact, hoping that you see how honest his words are.

You sigh, bend down, and pick up his phone before handing it to him. Atsumu doesn’t know what to do with all this. His face grimaces as if he’s expecting the worst. “Then... you shouldn’t lose your phone... if you want to write to me every day,” you answer him, a weak smile on your lips. Atsumu’s sorrowful expression suddenly changes and you see him looking at you with hope.

“Does that mean ya...” the blonde Miya can no longer contain his emotions as he leaps forward and pulls you into his arms. His embrace is so tight that you can barely breathe, as if he’s afraid you’ll slip out of his hands. Firm, but quivering. His whole body is shaking and you’re sure you’ve just felt something wet on your skin. Tears? Is Atsumu crying? “I promise to be a pain in yer ass every day. To text ya, to call ya, to be there for ya. Even in yer sleep. Okay? I love ya... I love ya so much...”

tw: abuse, anger issues, mention of blood

You’ve been with Iwaizumi since your school days. Back then, as a little flirt at school, Oikawa and Matsukawa mainly teased Iwaizumi for having a crush on you.

But in the end, many were jealous of the perfect couple who waltzed together on the dance floor at the prom with loving looks on their faces.

You were inseparable. Even Iwaizumi’s stay in America for his university didn’t affect your relationship. So it was no wonder that you got married after his return and were the perfect happy couple.

At least for the first few years.

The stress of being a coach for the Japanese national team is weighing on Iwaizumi’s mind. He normally handles stressful situations well, but he is under pressure.

If the team fails to perform in the next few games, he will lose many sponsors and possibly even his job.

Iwaizumi is constantly on edge and you feel like you have to walk on eggshells around him so you don’t provoke him.

More often, he has sudden temper tantrums, shouting at you about things that aren’t worth mentioning. “Damn it, I told you I need this one shirt for today. Why isn’t it clean?”

And once, when you stumbled with your words and asked him whether it might not be better to take a break as a coach, he was so angry that he almost hit you. But he managed to hold back and just sighed before going out for a beer in a nearby bar.

You don’t want to admit it to yourself, but right now, you’re really scared of your own husband.

Today was another training match between the Japanese national team and the Indonesian team. The team’s performance was better, but nowhere near good enough to shine. You watched the game on TV and run through your imaginary list in your head already, of potential trigger points for Iwaizumi. You don’t want him to get upset. The laundry is done; the house is clean; the food is also ready and in the fridge. Did you take out the trash? You chew nervously on your lower lip as you walk to the kitchen and let out a relieved sigh. That’s done too.

You are just closing the lid of the garbage can when you hear the key in the lock of your front door and Iwaizumi comes home with a surprisingly normal, “I’m home, my love, smells good in here”. Your shoulders relax immediately, a smile is back on your lips as you walk cheerfully into the hallway to greet Iwaizumi.

“Hello darling! How was your day?” Iwaizumi hugs you and leans down so you can kiss his cheek. “Let me eat something first. My day has been really exhausting,” he sighs, watching you nod and turn around to warm up the food for him. Your husband hangs up his jacket, puts down his bag and is about to turn around to follow you when he stumbles against a nearby vase that you had placed as a decoration for the fall changeover. The vase swings, loses its balance and falls to the floor in pieces.

“Shit!” You hear Iwaizumi curse and immediately run to him, anxiously hoping that nothing has happened to him. But luckily, he is unharmed. “Wait, I’ll clean up the broken pieces, you eat-“ you’re about to say, but Iwaizumi interrupts you loudly. “Always this stupid bullshit you put up. Shit, I could have hurt myself. If I miss now, that’s it for my career!” he shouts and stomps past you. You turn around hastily and apologize. “That wasn’t my intention, really,” you say, before realizing that it was a mistake to talk back. Iwaizumi turns around, his eyes ferocious and angry like a wild animal as he takes a step towards you. Your heart is beating restlessly and you are suddenly afraid.

“Not your intention? Admit it, you’d be happy if I got rid of the job!” he shouts, noticing how you start to tremble and shake your head. But Iwaizumi doesn’t seem to be in his right mind as he takes another step towards you. “Go clean up the mess! Make yourself useful!” he says through gritted teeth as he looks at your anxious and puzzled face. You know you should move, but your body doesn’t seem to listen, too scared to move a finger. And then it happens.

Iwaizumi grabs you by the hair and pulls you towards him. You cry out, weeping bitterly as you hear his voice again. “Are you deaf?! Get going!” he shouts, before pushing you away with more force than necessary. You lose your balance, stumble over your own feet as you fall and hit your head on the edge of the stairs in the hallway next to the broken vase. Your head hurts terribly, something warm flows down your face, sticking to your hair and making your vision suddenly completely different. It gets smaller and smaller before everything goes black in front of your eyes and the sounds around you stop completely.

Iwaizumi is abruptly perfectly sober and only now understands what has just happened. What he has just done to you, the woman he loves more than anything.

His eyes are big as he stares at his hands, which start to tremble in front of him.

Panic spreads through him as he looks at you. At your motionless body, at all the blood under your head.

He doesn’t know how he did it. His memories are hazy, but he can still remember trying to wake you up, in vain.

He had taken off his shirt, pressed it on your head injury to stop the bleeding and somehow managed to call an ambulance. Iwaizumi can’t remember anything else, just the one question from the paramedic who put you on the ambulance stretcher and took you to the hospital. Since Iwaizumi was your husband, he was allowed to drive with you.

“How did this happen?” the paramedic asked, as Iwaizumi answered quietly, “I don’t know... I really don’t know.”

It’s now been some hours after the accident and your head had been stitched up. Thank God it wasn’t as bad as it looked at first.

You’re still in the recovery room, Iwaizumi next to your bed on a chair, his hands folded in his lap as he hangs his head in bewilderment, looking at his wedding ring shining on his ring finger.

What happened? What has become of him? He still can’t believe what he has done.

He looks at his hands again, opens them, starts to tremble, clenches them into fists and realises how he lets out a frustrated sigh, which he had been holding back, as warm tears roll down his cheeks, soaking the fabric of his trousers.

In his mind, there’s only your shaking body, that frightened look, your screaming, and then this unbearable silence.

When you open your eyes, your head throbs a little and you have to squint through the bright, clinical light. “Where... where am I?” you say quietly, looking around the room and noticing that you’re lying in a hospital room. Next to your bed is none other than Iwaizumi. But he looks different. Broken… He shrinks at your words and looks up at you. You see his red eyes and how he hesitates whether it’s okay to take your hand in his. Iwaizumi gets up from his chair, wants to close the distance to your bed but his legs collapse and he falls to his knees when he suddenly starts to... cry?

“Haji- me...” you say, still feeling exhausted. “I’m... god I...” Iwaizumi doesn’t know what to say, doesn’t know how to look you in the eye. He takes a deep breath, regains his courage before peering at you. Carefully, he grasps your hand, checking if you are afraid, but you don’t seem to pull it away. Maybe because you’re still too tired. Awkwardly, he strokes the back of your hand before resting his forehead on it and closing his eyes briefly.

“I’m a terrible husband. I’ve done everything I shouldn’t have done. Instead of carrying you on my hands, bringing a smile to your face and protecting you from everything that would harm you, I’ve done the exact opposite. Instead of being happy to see me, you’re just scared of me, aren’t you?” he says in a shaky voice and looks up at you again. You are calm. Just stare at him with a hurt look.

“I.... I can understand if you want a divorce. If you don’t want to be with a monster like me anymore. I really can’t even blame you. But... please let me tell you one thing. When I saw you lying on the floor like that, the world collapsed inside me. I was afraid of losing the most important thing in my life. And the most important thing is not my job, no, it’s you. And I’m ashamed that I’ve forgotten that. I am disgusted with myself and I know that is no excuse. What I have done is unforgivable. But please... if there is still a bit of hope, then I will try to do everything I can to be the man you fell in love with again. I want to be your Haji-bear again. Your place of peace, and your favorite person. I will go to anger issues therapy, behavioral therapy. If it’s better for our relationship, I’ll step down as a coach and see if I can find a job as a volleyball coach at a school. No matter what, I would do anything.” Your hand becomes wet as his tears land on it. His words move something inside you. You want to believe him, you don’t want the relationship to end either, but everything that has happened so far will not pass by without damage.

“I need time, Hajime... If you really mean it, please grant me the time...” you answer him and notice how your words seem to tear him apart. But at the same time he seems to want to make the best of the situation. He lets go of your hand and stands up just to sit back down on the chair next to your bed, looking at you determinedly, his eyes still red and swollen. “As much time as you need. If it means we still have a chance...”

A few months pass. Iwaizumi has passed on the house to you and moved into his parents’ house to give you the space you need. He goes to therapy three times a week and tells you about his progress. He is still coaching the national team, but his assistant coach is taking a lot of the work off his hands and the volleyball team seems to be playing better again.

Just like when you were at school, you’ll find a letter in your letterbox once a week. Back then, Iwaizumi always told you a bit about his week and wrote it down because, funnily enough, he was too shy to talk to you in person. Only that in his current letters he writes that he misses you, but hopes that you are doing well at the moment.

He meets you in public places, goes out with you, so that you gradually feel more comfortable with him again, that you can see his progress in therapy and don’t just think it’s empty words.

Six months have passed since the incident. You are standing in the bedroom, changing the sheets, when Iwaizumi comes through the front door of the house. “My love, I’m home,” you hear Iwaizumi’s calm voice. Coming home from his therapy session, he hangs up his jacket in the hallway as your voice lets him know where you are.

Iwaizumi puts the flowers he bought for you on the kitchen table before he sneaks into the bedroom and sees you trying to unfold the sheets to put them on the blankets. With silent steps, he reaches around your waist to throw you onto the bed with him, wrapped in the covers that were in your hands earlier. Screaming, you laugh in unison with his chuckle as you look into each other’s eyes. “Hajime! Don’t scare me like that.” you laugh softly, while his hand gently tucks your hair behind your ear. Iwaizumi looks at your forehead, at the small scar that is left from your injury, before leaning forward and giving you a kiss on that spot.

“I’m sorry, but that was just so tempting,” he says, closing his eyes as he pulls you closer and just relaxes in bed with you. He strokes your back and kisses your forehead once more. “Hajime... what’s going on? Why are you so clingy suddenly?” you laugh, but Iwaizumi doesn’t join in the laughter, instead answering you seriously.

“Today, six months ago, I almost lost you. I’m just grateful that nothing happened to you. Thankful that you gave me another chance, even though I showed my worst side.” You can’t think of the right words to answer him, so you just smile, snuggle closer to him, and close your eyes. Safe in his arms, with his pulsating heart at your ear, you fall asleep.

tw: mention of abortion, mention of drugs/pills (without consent)

Suna and you were just friends for a long time. Even if the others saw you more like a couple.

You were the only one Suna didn’t mind when you sat next to him and pulled out one of his earphones to listen to music with him.

You always had the same route to school and if one of you came to school alone, you knew immediately that the other one must be sick.

With graduation, you mentioned that you might want to study abroad. That time, Suna had a weird feeling in his stomach for the first time. As if he was afraid of losing you.

That was the day he realised that he felt more for you than just friendship.

The same evening, he asked you to come over and watch a movie when he yawned in a very clichéd way to put his arm over your shoulder and pull you closer to him. He didn’t know why he was so nervous, but he just was.

A number of things went through his mind. What if you don’t feel the same way about him as he does about you? Will you still want to study abroad? Would you end your friendship with him if you didn’t feel the same way?

He tried to block out the questions and then, with his usual calmness, asked you if you could imagine anything more than a friendship. Luckily for him, you said yes.

From that moment on, everything was perfect. You had created your own little world over several years. You studied, and luckily not abroad. Suna was successful in volleyball, so you were both able to buy an apartment together quickly.

Just the two of you. Your friends were there from time to time, but in the evenings you were always alone at home, arm in arm, in the quiet flat without any noise or other people to disturb you.

Until one morning where you look at the little piece of plastic in the bathroom, stunned, when the two red stripes tell you that you are pregnant.

You hadn’t spoken to Suna about having children yet, but you’ve been together for so long now and everything is going well that you assume he would be just as happy as you are.

You thought…

When Suna comes home, you’ve already prepared a little surprise. There are a pair of baby shoes on the table in the living room, the pregnancy test in front of them and a little balloon with “Best Dad” written on it. You can’t help smiling as you see Suna walk into the room when you call out “surprise”, looking a little shy in his direction. But Suna’s reaction differed from what you expected.

Almost disgusted, he looks in your direction. “This better be one of those stupid TikTok pranks, right?” he says, and your smile disappears abruptly. Your stomach turns and you feel sick. And not because of the pregnancy. You stand there irritated, only able to utter a quiet “No... it’s not a joke”, confused by his negative reaction. “No? What week are you in? Tell me you can still have an abortion...” he says, annoyed, as he walks towards the table to see if there is any information about the week of pregnancy on the pregnancy test.

“What?” you say in bewilderment, still looking at Suna, who throws the test on the table in frustration before starting to massage his temples. “We’ll go to the gynecologist tomorrow, okay? Get rid of it. A child means responsibility. You have to look after this thing all the time, you’re no longer flexible and it’s noisy too... I just don’t want that.”

His words feel like a thousand stabs. Never have you seen Suna act like this before. You anticipated that he might be a bit taken by surprise and perhaps not be able to deal with the situation at first, but Suna seems to have a very clear opinion on the subject. He doesn’t even seem to be willing to talk. But abort a child? Let Suna’s and your baby die just like that? You can’t do that. You don’t want that.

The two of argue. Suna’s look gets progressively angrier. Yours sadder until he decides to leave the house with a “Do what you want, maybe it’ll die anyway”. Now you’re home alone with his painful words. You stand rooted to the spot in the room for several more minutes until the strength in your legs finally gives way and you slump to the floor, crying bitterly. The night, you spend alone in your bed, without Suna. He doesn’t answer his phone and doesn’t reply to your messages. You don’t hear from him the next day either, and he hasn’t come home. Thank God you get a message from Osamu, who texts you that Suna is with him and that you have nothing to worry about. But how are you supposed to stay at home without worrying if your boyfriend doesn’t get in touch with you and you’ve been arguing for days? You are scared. Afraid for the baby, afraid for the relationship and everything you two have built up.

Another day passes. You lie in bed, tired and lacking in energy. Nevertheless, you pull yourself together and get up, go to the bathroom to get ready for the day and don’t notice when the front door opens and Suna walks in. “Baby doll, I’m at home... and... I’m sorry...” you hear Suna’s voice and walk out of the bathroom. Even though you had a fight, you are still happy to see the man you love so much again. With a somewhat sad smile, he stands there, a bouquet of flowers in his hand as he approaches you.

“I’m really sorry. I behaved like an ass. You took me by surprise with the news and somehow... I don’t know. What do you say you sit down now? I’ll make us a drink and we can talk about all this. About the baby, and what happens next?” You can hardly believe his words. What has Osamu done in the last few days to make Suna suddenly do a full turnaround and be willing to talk to you openly, without shouting about becoming a parent? You make a mental note to thank Osamu later, before nodding with a smile and sitting down on the sofa in the living room.

But what you don’t know is that Suna went to a friend, a doctor, who gave him two pills before he came home. Pills for an induction of abortion. You have to take one now and the other two to three days later.

Suna knows that you wouldn’t take these pills voluntarily.

So he makes sure that you are indeed sitting in the living room before he takes out a small bag containing a pill, puts it in the grinder and turns it into a fine powder before mixing it into your iced tea.

He takes a deep breath, putting his smile back on as he walks towards you in the living room, where you are already waiting for him with happy eyes.

Without saying much, he hands you the glass, sits down next to you and watches you.

“I know it’s all so sudden and I could have said it differently. I really took you completely by surprise with the news,” you say quietly, looking at the iced tea in your hand, unaware that an abortion pill is floating there.

Suna listens attentively as you talk about how you first had to understand what a pregnancy means, but that your overwhelm quickly turned into joy because you are looking forward to holding a mini version of the two of you in your arms in less than 9 months. You talk about all the beautiful things that are going through your head, while Suna continues to listen to you, his eyes constantly focus on the tea in your hands and you.

He keeps looking at you as you raise the glass and press it to your lips, ready to drink the poison cocktail, when he realizes what he was doing. What he’s trying to do here.

Panic strikes him. His green eyes widen as he literally knocks the cup out of your hand. It falls to the floor with a loud thud. “Don’t drink that!” he says in an unsteady voice and looks at you in horror.

But you don’t understand anything, only shake your head.

“I don’t know what’s gotten into me. I... I think I just made the worst mistake of my life,” Suna says, looking back from you to the broken cup. You don’t understand what’s going on and tilt your head, asking him if everything is all right. But when Suna continues talking and tells you what was in your tea, your world collapses. You are shocked that your own boyfriend wanted to do this to you. “I was overwhelmed. I... I know that’s no excuse. But when I heard you talking, I realized that -“ Suna wanted to continue, but your voice cut him off, your words silenced him.

“Let’s break up,” you say, and unlike before, unlike when you argued a week ago, your voice is determined now, your eyes full of pain and betrayal. Those green eyes that used to mesmerize you are now looking at you desperately. “What?” Suna whispers softly, followed by a “No, wait”. But you interrupt him again.

“You just wanted to give me some drugs without my consent so I’d lose the baby?! No, Rintarou… I’m breaking up with you. That... no, I can’t do that.” Abruptly, you get up from the sofa, ignoring the hand that tries to grab you before quickly slipping into a jacket and a pair of shoes just to leave the apartment. Suna wants to run after you, but his legs won’t move. His mind and heart are screaming to run after you, to stop you and tell you he’s sorry, but his body just won’t obey him. When he finally manages to get up, you’re already gone.

Still wearing his slippers and without putting on a jacket, he eventually runs out to check out all the places you love, all your friends, to see if he can find you somewhere. But no matter where he looks, he can’t find you. You don’t reply to messages or phone calls. The mechanical voice of your voice mail greets him directly. “Shit, shit, shit!” he yells as he stands in the park where you two had your first official date. The surrounding people look at him. Some with an irritated look, some as if they were pitying him.

Without really knowing where to go, your legs automatically led you to the bus that goes to Kita’s home.

Kita was one of your best friends back then. And you knew that if you went to Kita and told him not to tell Suna that you were there, he wouldn’t tell his friend either. And that’s exactly what Kita did.

You were in Kita’s guest room when you heard Suna’s voice in the hallway.

He sounded shattered, broken, as he begged Kita to tell him where you were.

This went on for several weeks, until one evening Suna rang the doorbell again, trying to talk to Kita in a voice you had never heard before.

His voice was so thin, so fragile, as if a heap of misery was speaking out of him.

Kita tells him once again that he doesn’t know where you are when you hesitantly open the door, thinking about going downstairs and listening to what Suna has to say. But for now, you just listen to the conversation.

“Please, Shinsuke, I know you know her location. Please, just give her this. Please...” Kita sighs, followed by a soft “ok...” before the front door closes. Your best friend’s footsteps creak beneath the floor as he walks up the stairs, looks at you a little twisted and hands you a large package.

You know that you demand a lot from Kita. It’s not easy for him to lie to his friend either. Eventually you have to talk to Suna.

Alone in your guest room, you spend almost half an hour looking at the unopened package at the other end of the bed until you finally decide to open it. When you see what’s inside, surprise catches you. Multiple emotions flow through your body without you even noticing how your eyes suddenly turn glassy. Small letters and several items are in the box. You take out the letter that is on top of all the other items.

“My love, I don’t even know where to start. I can’t apologize for what I did. Nevertheless, I want to tell you that I’m sorry. I was confused and scared. Our relationship has always been perfect so far and I thought it was great that it was just the two of us and that no one else disturbed our privacy. I was afraid that when we had a child, we would argue, have no more time for each other, and grow apart. I was selfish and didn’t think about how you would feel. I wasn’t thinking about our baby. The thought that we were both going to be parents hadn’t crossed my mind at all. But every time I walked past those little shoes you had placed in the living room, I couldn’t think of anything else but seeing our child standing in them. How it tries to move around in it, sometimes falls down because it loses its balance and seeks shelter with its beloved mom. I regret every second of what I’ve done, every word I’ve said. Hurting you was the last thing I wanted to do, and yet I did it. I am sorry. I am so terribly sorry.

I did some research. Did you know that it is currently very difficult to find midwives? You should probably start looking very early on. My team colleague gave me the number of the midwife he and his wife had at the birth of their two children. I also have three other numbers. You might want to give them a call. There are also birth preparation classes in our town. I have also put a brochure in the package for you. You don’t necessarily have to go there with your partner. With me… So... if you want, you could also go there with Kita, even if I would be happy if we both did it together. But I can understand if you don’t want to.

Are you eating enough? You should pay particular attention to your diet during pregnancy. A lot of women suffer from a vitamin deficiency during pregnancy. But you have probably already discussed this with your gynecologist. Anyway, I’ve written down a few recipes for you that are rich in vitamins. I admit that Osamu helped me a little with this. Oh, and on the back are some things you shouldn’t eat during pregnancy. Raw eggs and products containing them such as ice cream, mayonnaise and so on... you should not eat them, because the risk of salmonella infection is high. Peanuts can contain aflatoxins, which can also harm the fetus... but as I said, I’ve put together a list for you. In case you didn’t already know all this already. There are a few other things in the box. Maybe you’d like to take a look.

I hope you are doing well. I hope the baby is doing well too. Have you thought of a name yet? Do you know whether it will be a boy or a girl? I’m sure there’s already a little bump on your belly. I... would really like to be with you right now. Would love to hold you in my arms and stroke your tummy. I know I made a mistake that can never be fixed. But if you’re willing, if that’s what you want, I’d really like to be by your side again. And if not as your boyfriend, then as the father of our baby. I would like to do couples’ therapy with you so that we can find our way back to each other… So that you can trust me again. Because in all of this, I was the problem and never you. But only if you want it too, of course. I know it may be hard to believe, but I love you. So much that a life without you scares me. I am sorry…”

You’re crying bitterly by now as your tears blur the ink on the letter before you put it aside and look in the box. Next to a small onesie for babies, there is a note with the telephone numbers of midwives, a small book with recipes, the brochure he had mentioned and another box containing photos and memories. Pictures that Suna had always secretly taken of you at times when he thought you looked extra pretty. You always found the photos embarrassing, but for him they were beautiful to look at. Because they were moments when you were just being you, not smiling for the camera or doing anything else to disguise yourself.

There was also a necklace with shells on it in the box. You made it for Suna when you were on vacation in Croatia. It turned out incredibly ugly, yet Suna wore it proudly during the whole vacation. You’re touched that he still has this ugly necklace. Little notes that you wrote to each other at school are also in there. So many more memories from the past. Where had Suna hidden this little box in your apartment so that you never noticed it?

You hastily get up, open the door and run down to the hallway as Kita comes out of the living room and looks at you questioningly. “Is everything all right? Do you need to see a doctor?” He asks concerned, but you just shake your head, wanting nothing more than to see Suna, talk to him again. He asks you if you are absolutely sure, but your determined nod is enough for an answer. So he grabs his jacket and car keys, driving you straight to your ex boyfriend, to your apartment. He doesn’t want you to take the bus in your current state.

Suna is sitting in the living room. In front of him on the coffee table are various reports on pregnancy, parenting and more. His head is leaning on his hands as he takes a deep breath. Have you opened his package yet? He wonders, unable to think clearly, when he hears the key in the door lock and runs into the hallway as if stung by a tarantula. His eyes are wide as he looks at you, standing rooted to the spot in the doorway, not knowing how to react.

“Shinsuke... Drove me here...” you say. “I opened your package.” You continue, watching Suna swallow hard, still not moving an inch from the doorframe. “How are you, the baby?” he asks quietly, almost absent-mindedly, as if he can’t believe you’re really standing in front of him. “Good... can... can we talk?” you ask and watch him nod, having trouble sorting out his feelings. You take a step towards him, clearly seeing the dark circles, the red eyes, the slightly thinner face, as if he has lost weight. And on closer look, you can see his whole body trembling.

“Is everything you wrote in your letter true?” you ask him, trying to keep your voice as calm as possible, even though you’re at your wits’ end. “Yes, yes all of it. I’m sorry for everything... I want nothing more than to see you happy. To see our baby happy. And if you want another partner by your side to be happy, if you don’t want me in your life, then I will accept that.” Suna whispers, knowing that if he were to speak even a little louder, his voice would fail and he would cry. You take another step towards him. “What if I want you? Want to give it another try?” You have barely spoken your sentence before you hear a bitter shuffle from Suna, which he seems to have been suppressing the whole time. His shaky hands carefully reach for your face before he presses his forehead against yours and says softly, “I would wish for nothing more than that.”

Although you hesitate for a second, you finally put your hands around his back and stand with him in the doorway for a while. Neither of you says a word. Both of you let your tears run until Suna releases you at some point and gives you a kiss on the forehead. “You shouldn’t stand for so long. You’d better get some rest,” he says in a somewhat steady voice before helping you out of your jacket and leading you into the bedroom, where he pushes the sheets aside so you can lie down.

“Rin, but I’m not tired at all...” you say, even though you are exhausted, but Suna lies down right next to you, pulling you close while his free hand moves to your stomach. “I know... But... let’s just lie here like this for a moment, regain our strength before we talk... Talk about everything, our future, how I can make it up to you, our little baby… Agree, baby doll?” He whispers tiredly. Yet you also notice how all the crying is slowly making you a little tired. “Agree, Rin.” you smile weakly, snuggling closer to him as you both fall asleep arm in arm, his hand protectively on your baby bump, your hand on his.

#haikyu x #haikyu x reader #haikyuu x reader #atsumu x reader #suna x reader #iwaizumi x reader #iwaizumi haijime x reader #atsumu miya x reader #suna rintarou x reader

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prodagustd · 3 months ago

Text

the road not taken 04 | myg

part four: a wish

Summary: Were you about to go crazy if you started to consider that Yoongi felt something for you?

—pairing: lawyer!yoongi x actress!oc

—rating: +18

—genre: brother's best friend, one sided pinning (or both?)

—warnings/tags: slow burn, angst, FLUFF ❤️‍🩹, eventual smut, angst, sexual tension!!!!! flashbacks, ANGST!! mentions of sex 👀Btw english is not my first language!

—words: 9.6k

—a/note: hiiii friends!!! i'm glad to say that it didn't take me six months to post this :D. I genuinely went through the most stressful two months of my life so I'm really proud that I could finish this chapter while trying to survive this thing called being an adult!! Anywayy, I’m excited for this chapter but I’m MORE EXCITED FOR THE NEXT ONE… 👀 so please have patience with this story!!! I promise it’s worth it hehehe. As always, you are more than invited to discuss this chapter in the asks, feedback is always welcomed <3 this one is very fluffy i hope you enjoy ittt. (Also if you read a typo, no you didn’t)

series masterlist | teaser | playlist

Four years ago

Seven days before New Year’s Eve

Were you too naive to still believe your father when he said that you were granted a wish every Christmas? He used to say that every year when he was still around and you were still a kid, when the clock struck twelve you could wish anything you wanted, as long as it wasn’t something material or more presents, you had to wish for something special, something that made you happy.

The last Christmas before your father passed away you were seven years old and still believed in Santa Claus. That year, for some reason, your wish slipped your mind, you forgot about it completely. You stayed at your house, watched movies the whole day in your pajamas and at midnight your parents let both you and Simon open only one present before sending you to bed. You remembered how your father chased you to the stairs to tickle you until you cried of laughter and how good the cookies your mother made that night were, perhaps that year you were too happy to remember making a wish, perhaps what you had was enough. When you woke up the next morning, you were sad that you had wasted it, but your father, wise as ever, told you not to worry. He said that it was like you were saving your wish for the next year — maybe then it would be stronger, and maybe, since you waited, you would have a better chance of it coming true.

By the time Christmas came the following year your father was already gone, and with him all the magic of the world. You had to grow up, you stopped making wishes and tried to stop believing in stories, but it was difficult when his words were still at the back of your mind like some sort of tradition every holiday season. Despite knowing that magic didn’t exist and perhaps not a single wish of yours had ever come true, you still couldn't help but believe you still had your last wish, and everytime the idea of finally making it crossed your mind, you stopped to tell yourself you could still wait another year, just to be sure.

That morning you saw Yoongi leaned over his car, adjusting his cap as he saw you walking over to him and you thought about your saved wish for the first time this year. And then again when he grabbed your hand to drag you out of the room, or when he waited for you at the bottom of the stairs before leaving the house, but you wouldn’t admit it, not even to yourself.

He dragged you all across your grandmother’s hometown as if you didn’t know it like the palm of your hand, as if the streets weren’t filled with kids running and whole families doing last-minute gift shopping, but he didn’t seem to care, so for once, you didn’t let it annoy you either. You observed the happy families and the kids playing in the snow, and sat in the park for as long as the cold weather allowed.

It was like you entered a trance, you tried to fight the urge to snap out of the moment and talked and talked the whole afternoon about everything and nothing at the same time, Yoongi listened and laughed while playing with the ends of your hair, pushing you closer to the edge of illusion. If you weren’t so adamant to stay in that blurry haze, you would’ve done something to stop him, you would’ve push his hand away when he tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, you would’ve hated how easy it was for him to play dumb, how natural it was to touch you without feeling something was wrong. You ignored it instead, you ignored him and his wandering hands and the fact that he didn’t dare to mention the moment you shared in the closet, nor the way your noses brushed together, or how his fingers hugged your waist as if you weren’t just friends. Even if you would’ve died for him to say a word about it, to tease you, to attempt to make fun of you just to know that what happened was real and not something you dreamt last night.

If you were really dreaming, you held on to your sleep for a while. When Yoongi found that secondhand bookstore five blocks away from the park, he grabbed your hand when you ran across the street before the traffic lights turned green and stayed inside wandering the aisles with him, you let him lean over to whisper jokes in your ear and you punched his arms when he made you laugh a little bit too loud. You tried to keep your voices low and made a list of books to read the following year. You didn’t buy any of them but you read the prologues and the author’s biographies like it was the most interesting thing in the world. You waited for Yoongi when he started to talk with an old man about a book he needed for college and, when he felt you drifting away, he hooked one of his fingers on the belt loop of your jeans and pulled you close to him again. You felt his hands on your waist, keeping you pressed against the side of your body while he pretended to be focused on the conversation, but he was focused on something else. His long fingers played with the waistband of your jeans as your chest felt tight and your breath felt heavier. Maybe you were beginning to go insane, maybe you had a fever and everything was just a product of your imagination, but a tiny voice inside your head quietly suggested that maybe this time you weren’t insane, maybe it was just him.

It was getting dark outside, and you were supposed to be home anytime soon, but he turned his head to you and whispered in your ear that you should save a seat at the coffee shop next door and wait for him while he paid for the book. Even if it was cold and snowing neither of you wanted to return home yet, so you agreed. You made your way to the cute little coffee shop adorned with Christmas lights and sat on a table to wait for him to arrive at the table, until you saw him entering the shop with a book wrapped in brown wrapping paper in his hands.

You observed him approaching with your face on the palms of your hands, you watched his eyes scanning the place until they found you in some poor illuminated corner. He smiled, his eyes never left yours as he made his way to your table, and when he sat in front of you, he slid the book towards you.

“This is for you.” He simply said, crossing his arms over his chest like it was no big deal.

You frowned, confused. Did Yoongi get you some lawyer book? You didn’t know, you grabbed the wrapped book in your hands and scanned it as if you were able to see through the envelope. “The book you needed for college?”

“It’s not that.” He huffed. “It’s a present.”

You tried to bite back a smile, but you failed. “Is this your way to tell me you forgot to buy me a Christmas present?” You joked, making him roll his eyes.

“C’mon, you know me.” He said “I would never give you a Christmas present before Christmas, are you crazy?”

You laughed “So is this not a Christmas present?” You inquired, teasing him.

“It is a Christmas present, but not the Christmas present that I got for you.” He tried to clarify, and it sounded confusing but you understood him anyway.

You nodded, tearing the wrapping paper to reveal that Yoongi just bought you an Anne Sexton poetry book, the title “Love Poems” shinned in red on the cover, making you hold your breath for a second.

You raised your gaze from the book to find his eyes, which were looking at you expectantly, the same way someone looked at the moon, yearning. The same way you were looking at him.

“How did you know…?” The question died in your lips.

“I just know.” He cheekily said, and that was enough.

You know me, he said, and you felt your heart aching when you realized that Yoongi knew you too, and it was becoming impossible to escape from it.

You spent these past weeks trying to make it disappear, but there it was again, that strange feeling you felt in your chest, like something tugged from a string tied to your heart to try and steal it away. You were sure Yoongi thought he had his ways with you, that he was some kind of genius that knew exactly what to say and what to do to erase the frown from your face and make you laugh, but the truth was that he didn’t need to do much effort to win you over, the truth was that he already had you. He had you then, and he had you now and you weren’t sure if that was ever going to change, but today you didn’t care, you let him walk you home as he wrapped his arms around your shoulders like that warm wouldn’t chill you to the bone when he left.

You had successfully gone through dinner without having to answer questions about college, or your future, or anything about yourself at all, part of it was because your grandmother didn’t ask any questions to begin with. Maybe you were a bit jealous that she seemed more interested in Eva, your cousin, who was a biochemist and just got engaged, or Aidan, your other cousin, who was just admitted into college, or even Yoongi, who was about to graduate, however, you felt relieved that the attention was not focused on you. You were used to your family thinking that you were a thirteen year old teenager and not a twenty one year adult, the attention was never really on you, sometimes it bounced on you accidentally like a ball and, from time to time, you got to share a glimpse of information about your life, but most of the time your mother answered for you as if you were a kid in the hospital room, trying to include you in conversations and talking about your own projects, and that was enough for everyone.

In the past, your mother had sat you down several times to explain that your grandmother was never an easy woman, she reassured you that her judgmental behavior was a reflection of herself, not of you. She always offered to let you stay at home if you wanted to, but you refused only for the rest of the family, you could stand being with your grandmother if that meant being with the rest of them. And you learnt to endure it all: your grandmother’s judging look, all the talking about your cousin’s achievements, their goals, projects, flawless record, and the fact that everyone seemed to be finding their paths except for you. You had to learn to pretend you were happy for them and not jealous, you took several breaths and moved on, and for a while you thought that after two decades of your life you had finally mastered the art in not giving a fuck about what your family thought about you, until today when you ran to hide in the closet so they wouldn’t find you.

You had to work on that, you knew that, but at least for now the blatant disinterest for your life spared you from having to explain your life crisis, at least Yoongi was by your side, redirecting attention to him and the real question everyone wanted to ask but no one dared, a question that eclipsed any other topic of conversation: what was happening between the two of you?

You looked at him next to you, charming as ever, talking with your uncle across the table. He decided to put on his glasses, his cheeks were pink and the sleeves of his blue sweater were rolled up to his elbows, his arm was casually resting on the top rail of your chair and every time he made a joke he looked at you to check if you were laughing. Every attempt he made to try to make you part of the conversation made your heart swell, but you were more than happy just observing him blending into your family as if he were part of it; you wanted to be as clueless as everyone on the table and believe that Yoongi could be sitting next year at this very same table to be there for you, for a moment you allowed yourself to dream of a reality where he saved you from every family gathering like he was doing tonight.

From the tip of your nose to the tip of your toes you felt warm, almost as if you had a fever. It was probably because you were still wearing your black sweater inside the house or because the memory of the book Yoongi gave you kept your cheeks burning red, or maybe because when dinner was over and your family lingered over the table for the longest time they could, you saw Yoongi tilting his head towards the stairs, meaning it was time to go to bed.

There was a couple differences between this weekend and the night Yoongi slept with you after coming back from The Alley, that night you wouldn’t have ask him to stay over if you were sober, and he most likely wouldn’t have stay if he wasn’t high, tonight you had to share the room, but it was impossible for you not to be dramatic and always make big deals out of small things. Unlike you, Yoongi didn’t flinch when you told him you were going to sleep in the same room, you failed to remember that you were the one who had a decade-long crush on him and not the other way around.

Now the house was quiet and everyone was scattered around the floors, your cousins were in the living room with your uncle, your grandmother was already in bed, your mom was in the kitchen washing the dishes and Yoongi was upstairs, waiting for you. Before going with him, you changed into your pajamas and went to the kitchen to steal a few cookies that your mother cooked for tomorrow morning. You could wait a few hours more to eat the cookies, but you were desperately trying to look for an excuse to prolong the moment you entered the room you were sharing with the man upstairs.

You entered the kitchen, making your mother turn around from the sink to take a quick look at you before coming back to the dishes. “Are you already going to sleep?” She asked, a curious tone on her voice.

“Yeah, but I wanted to grab a few cookies first, is that okay?” You inquired, already opening the cabinet above her head to grab a big plate.

“Just a few, remember they’re for everyone.” She warned, and you hummed in response, knowing that you were going to grab more than just a few.

The room fell silent for a moment, you heard the water running and your dragging feet making their way to the cookies on the counter before she raised her voice again. “Are they for you and Yoongi?”

You hummed again “Yes, just a few, I promise.” You said, grabbing what it seemed to be a whole batch of cookies to put on the plate.

You tried to be quick, putting an extra cookie for the road between your teeth and turning around to escape from your mother before she could see you and scold you for stealing way too many cookies. Trying not to make any noise, as if that could make you invisible, you made your way towards the door to escape, but when you thought you were about to succeed, you heard the nickname your mom used for you from the corner of the room, stopping you in your tracks.

“Wait, darling.” You heard her tone of voice, surprised that it wasn’t annoyed, but rather motherly.

You turned around slowly with your guard up, as if in that way she wouldn’t notice the cookie between your teeth. You took it out of your mouth, hiding it behind your back.

“Yes?” You answered, remaining calm. You would not give yourself away when you already made this far.

She closed the faucet, turning around to face you. Her eyes fell upon you, offering you an apologetic smile, which was weird, it was the kind of smile she gave you when she knew she was about to upset you. It wasn’t the kind of face someone who was about to scold you would make, she looked hesitant, almost worried.

“I wanted to-... I mean, I wanted to ask you about something.” She said, stumbling with her own words. Her eyes were not focused on the plate on your hands, not even in your face completely, like she was trying to avoid your eyes. You felt a rush of nervousness running down your body and quickly dissipating, you didn’t know why.

“About what?” You inquired, wiping the crumbs from your mouth.

She sighed, playing with the towel in her hands to keep her hands busy. “I know you don’t want me to be all over your business, and I’m aware you are not a teenager anymore, but I can’t help worrying a little bit.” She explained, or at least she tried.

You frowned, more confused than ever. The conversation seemed to be taking a completely different path than you thought five seconds ago.

“What do you mean, mom?” You said, taking a step forward, what did this have to do with the cookies?

Your mom pursed her lips, hesitating for a microsecond until the words finally came out of her mouth. “You are already a woman, darling, so I wanted to know if you are… cautious.” She pronounced, making emphasis on the last word and letting it sink in the air, but you still didn’t understand what she was talking about.

“Cautious with what?” You must've looked like a total fool, asking once again what she meant, but your mother seemed to want you to understand without having to explain.

She shifted in her place and you saw a flash of embarrassment in her eyes, but it quickly disappeared. “With Yoongi, I mean.” She said, making the name resonate in your ears “I know you’re both adults and you can do whatever you want, but I wanted to make sure that you are using protection.”

The realization fell upon you like a ton of bricks, each word she uttered felt like a different punch to your stomach. You opened your eyes widely, almost choking with your own spit. “What? No, mom-” You wanted to interrupt her, but she was quick to talk over you.

“I just want to make sure!” She said like she was apologizing “I don’t mean to be invasive, but it’s important to me that you’re being safe.”

You winced, feeling your face burning as you began stuttering “Me and Yoongi…-We are not, I mean-”

“Honey,” She stopped you, looking at you like she was a sex education teacher trying to explain why you should use protection. “I was not born yesterday, I see things happening, and believe me, I have no problem with you sharing a room, but I can’t help but ask.”

You were left completely speechless, and her constant interruptions while you were trying to finish a sentence were not helping. You racked your brain to find a logical explanation, but you were incapable of forming a decent sentence when she was looking at you like she was a doctor. The fact that your mother thought that you and Yoongi were having sex made your stomach squirm, and how she stated that it was obvious left your head spinning. Did she see you today in that closet and immediately assumed you were… fucking? God, that sounded so bad, so incredibly embarrassing. You still felt yourself blushing when you thought about that moment, you couldn’t even fathom the idea of seeing him without a shirt, less alone having sex with him.

“Mom, please. You don’t have to worry, really.” You tried to explain, but that was not enough to leave your mother content, by the look on her face you knew she didn’t believe you one bit.

“I know I don’t have to worry!” She defended herself “Yoongi is a great boy, and I trust you… But you know, if things get a bit too frisky...”

You closed your eyes shut, trying not to picture that in your mind, “God, mom, don’t use that word!”

“Sorry! I mean… You know what I mean! I hope you’re using protection, no matter the circumstances.”

You took a deep breath, ninety percent sure you were about to die of embarrassment, but with your last breath you made sure to be clear with your mom so tonight she would sleep peacefully “Believe me, mom. You don’t have to worry, nothing happened between Yoongi and me, I mean it.”

You could see it in her eyes, she was not convinced, and she was right to be so. That was a lie, and she knew it. What happened today was not “nothing”, and your mother knowing that only made your cheeks burn.

“Fine.” She said, struggling to let the conversation go “But if something does happen… Be safe, okay?”

You nodded repeatedly, trying to end the conversation as soon as possible. “Yes, of course.” You promised, but the idea of that ever happening sent a chill down your spine, you tried to shake that thought as far away as you possibly could.

Your mom smiled and you took it as your cue to go. You tried to walk away, but before you reached the door, she spoke again.

“And darling?” She said, making you turn around to see her. “I know you don’t like coming here without your brother, so thank you for coming anyway.”

“It’s fine, mom.” You said, and it was true. “At least Yoongi made up for it.”

She smirked, suppressing a laugh. “Oh, I’m sure.”

You rolled your eyes, in disbelief. “Yup, I’m going now, goodnight!” You said, finally escaping from the conversation. You heard your mom’s laugh in the distance as you closed the door behind you to run upstairs.

Present

When you visited Simon’s apartment for the first time you could clearly notice it was a boy’s apartment from the lack of decoration, the lack of food in the fridge and the amount of boxes still unpacked weeks after moving in, but after you entered through the door tonight you saw a completely different version of it. It was a part of him that you missed out when you were gone, now there were plants on the living room and traces of Florence all over the place, like her purple slippers on the door and the purple toothbrush on the bathroom, her scrunchies on the entryway table and the framed picture of her beside them. You found it endearing, it was like a secret world made just for the two of them, a proper home.

“When is Florence coming back?” You asked, leaving your bag on the couch.

Simon took off his shoes, wandering through his house as he turned all the lights on “On Monday.” He replied.

You made a mental note to leave on Monday, even if Simon repeated a thousand times that it was okay for you to stay there on the way here, you didn’t want to intrude in his life. Instead you decided it would be easier to intrude in Minnie’s life, who’s apartment was big enough for the two of you, the only person she shared her apartment with was not an actual person, it was just her orange cat.

“I was supposed to go with her.” Your brother kept talking “But me and Yoongi are behind on some work and I had to stay… Well, I’m the one who’s behind, really. Yoongi is just helping me.”

You did not forget that Simon and Yoongi worked together at the same law firm downtown ever since they graduated. You knew that Yoongi got the job as soon as he graduated and then he was followed by your brother, after years it was still impossible to keep them apart, which had become a problem for you.

You nodded but didn’t say anything about it, you reasoned that Yoongi was still working before arriving at your house, that explained the clothes, the shoes and the messy hair. You sighed just by thinking about it, at least dinner was over, at least your first encounter with Yoongi after four years wasn’t the worst thing that happened tonight.

It was impossible, but you tried not to think about it too much. Yoongi’s presence was some kind of collateral effect that came with your life, it was too late to detach him from it, but you still tried to run away from it for years and years, only to come back and still find him here, talking to you like nothing ever happened, like you were still friends.

Yoongi and you were always on different stages of your life, on different places, on different paths, but you seemed to agree on one thing: keep everything secret, no one needed to know what happened between the two of you, that was why Simon was always talking about Yoongi when you called him, that was why he couldn’t stop talking about it him now, he didn’t realize that you didn’t want to know anything about his best friend, you could never told him why.

You followed your brother to his guest room as he talked and talked about how smart Yoongi was and how he was capable of taking so many different cases and not dying in the process, how nice it was to work with his best friend and blablabla. You swore that if you heard the name one more time you would explode, so you decided to drastically change the subject of the conversation, you were willing to say anything to take his name out of your brother’s mouth. It took a second, but when the room fell silent, you looked at your feet, a bit unsure, gathering enough courage to finally say what you’ve been meaning to tell him since you arrived home.

“I’m sorry for not telling you about the proposal.” You softly spoke, and Simon, who was looking for a blanket in the closet in the corner of the room, turned his head to look at you. “I wanted to tell you in person, but I wasn’t planning for that article to come out, I didn’t want the whole world to know.”

Simon left the blanket on the bed, turning his body to look at you more clearly. “Mom told me that you think Ian leaked the news” He mentioned, and you nodded, at the risk of looking crazy.

“Sally suggested it.” You confirmed, sitting on the bed “And if he didn’t, he’s fine with it anyway. He doesn’t care if people see me as this bitch who broke his heart, I might as well be.”

He looked at the wall behind you, confused. “I think I missed a chapter here.” He said, sitting on the edge of the bed “Maybe more than one. Weren’t you in love with him?”

You wanted to grab a pillow, bury your face on it and scream as loud as you could, but for the sake of looking like a sane person you contained yourself. “I thought I was.” You said sincerely. you believed there was a time when you were sure you were in love with Ian, there were moments you thought that the good things about him could outweigh the bad things, but deep down you knew that if you were really in love you wouldn’t have to do all that math, you wouldn’t have to fight to ignore his arrogance and his big ego.

“And when did you realize that you weren’t?” He continued to ask “Or when did you realize he was a jerk?”

You scoffed, bitterly. “I guess I always knew both, I tried to make it work regardless. I enjoyed being with him for some time, but then he planned an engagement party full of people I didn’t even know. He didn’t care to call any of you and expected me to say yes… Does that say more about him or me?”

He kept quiet, not knowing what to say, but you already knew the answer.

“Ian was an asshole, kid. He was jealous of you, of your family, of your job, none of us understood why you were with him.”

“That was not what I asked.” You laughed, rolling your eyes. “Ian was a prick, I get it, but I wasn’t much better either.”

“You can’t make me think you deserve each other, are you kidding?” He said.

“I can’t blame him for everything, I made my own bed.” You huffed “I was terrible and it took me almost four years to snap out of it, that was not his fault.”

“You are right, but you’re here now, aren’t you?” He reminded you, calmly. “Isn’t that what’s important?”

You began to become exasperated “C’mon, Simon, don’t try to be nice, you’re supposed to be mad at me.”

“I am mad at you.” He corrected you, sending a chill down your spine “You’re working all the time, you never call, never text back, we barely see you and the only way to know about your life is when we read some article saying you broke up with your boyfriend because he proposed to you, are you kidding? Of course I am mad, but because I miss you.”

You felt a wave of regret hitting all your senses, suddenly your eyes were burning with tears and you are not supposed to cry, you knew that, but the single tear that slid down your cheek was quicker than any thought that could cross your mind. Somehow, you wished your family hadn't noticed how absent you'd been these past few years, that they just shrugged and said “that’s just her” and forgot about it, it was not necessary to look at Simon’s face to know that he couldn’t just forget about it. He loved you, your mother loved you too, you didn’t have a family that you would want to run away from, but you did it anyway,

“I’m sorry…” You murmured, looking at him with eyes full of regret. “It wasn’t you, it wasn’t any of you, it was me. I was so angry when I left, I didn’t know how to handle it.”

You wouldn’t trade your career for anything, it was one of those few things that made you happy, but after years of trying to convince yourself that every decision you made for the last few years was the right choice, this was the first time that you admitted that maybe you weren’t thinking clearly when you decided to move to the city and never look back.

Simon frowned, thinking about it twice before asking “Were you angry, bug?”

You tilted your head, giving him a sad smile, hoping that it could explain everything.”I was quite angry, yes.” You answered “Not at you, though.”

“At mom?”

“Maybe a little bit at mom, yeah.” You laughed, shaking your head. You sighed deeply, letting the silence sit in the room for a moment before you could put in order all the things you wanted to say. “I remember when I told her I left college she looked at me like I finally lost my mind, it was like she saw it coming, you know? Me, again, being lost, it was not a surprise, but rather something she would expect of me. I know she was just worried and I know I can be a lot sometimes, but it hurt anyway. I don't blame anyone, Simon, but all I needed was someone to believe in me and no one did. I had to leave.” Something ached inside your chest because that was not the whole truth, but it was all you could say tonight, you couldn’t say that Yoongi was also one of the reasons. “I’m not trying to justify myself.” You mumbled “I’m just saying that I was so angry that I didn’t realize how many mistakes I made.”

The silence that took over the room was so strong it made your stomach squirm. You shifted in your place, but Simon stayed there, with his gaze lost somewhere in the room as he processed what you just said.

“I always believed in you, you know that?” He spoke, causing your head to snap up towards him. “I know a lot of people tried to tell you that you weren’t, but you’ve always been special and I’ve always seen it.”

“I know you did.” You sighed. “But I was being so stubborn, I walked away and I’m so sorry.”

“I know you think you’re too much, but you’re not.” He continued talking “Maybe mom just wanted everything to be simple, for her kids to go to college, graduate, get a job and a home and never have to worry about whether they are choosing right or wrong ever again. But you’re not simple, bug, you’re extraordinary and talented and too brilliant to stay still, but you’re not too much, not for me.”

You held back a sob, feeling ridiculous. “I’m sorry.” You said, once again, because you haven’t said it enough times.

“It’s okay now, I mean it.” Simon reached for your hand to squeeze it tightly.

You sniffed “God, I should be comforting you for being a bad sister, not the other way around”

“I don’t need to be comforted, I’m okay as long as you’re here.” He tried to cheer you up. “And you were not a bad sister, you were sad and acted shitty.”

You smiled, because you told Simon that you were angry but instead he heard that you were sad, you didn’t feel like correcting him because he wasn’t so wrong about that.

“I’m sorry.” You repeated once again like a scratched record, making him laugh. “Are you still mad at me?”

“No.” he replied, “But only if you promise not to disappear again.”

You raised your hand, extending your pinky finger in front of his face. “I promise you, Simon, I will not disappear again.”

Simon tangled his pinky with yours, making your promise impossible to be broken, and your soul felt at ease for a moment.

“Fine, good enough for me.” he said, throwing himself back onto the bed. “Now I want to hear everything about the proposal, and I want you to describe to me exactly the face he made when you said no.”

You laughed, throwing yourself on the bed the same way he did and tried to summarize the last three years in just one night. Only for today, your body did you a favor and your head stopped spinning at least for now. Something began to feel right.

Four years ago

Seven days before New Year’s Eve

You could hear the radio at the end of the hallway in your grandmother’s room, softly playing jazz to cancel out the outside noise. Not everyone in the house liked the radio, your cousins always said that it was annoying and kept them awake, but it was still one of those old habits of your grandfather that remained in the house even if he was no longer here, so you liked it. The music inevitably seeped under the door of your room, Yoongi hummed some Frank Sinatra song as if he knew the lyrics to it, making you laugh and beg him to stop.

You know it’s almost midnight, as your roommate just informed you, but you didn’t want to turn the lights off yet. All of the cookies already disappeared from the plate, Yoongi was laying on his side the same way you were and the lamp on the nightstand warmly lighted up his brown eyes, you couldn’t help but feel you were not supposed to be in such presence, his messy hair and the loose white shirt he wore to sleep, his sleepy eyes, his pink lips; it looked just like the kind of view that was bound to haunt you forever.

The nightstand that separated you was not far enough to stop that pull from the string in your chest, not when he was looking at you like that, his gaze fixated on yours like he didn’t want to leave you awake alone, and neither did you. You felt yourself shaking because, what was the version of you that existed when you were asleep? And what happened inside his head when you were not there? What was happening inside his head right now?

Did you cross his mind the same way he crossed yours? When you finally fell asleep, would he remember that moment in the closet or would it be just water under the bridge? Did he spend every waking second of the last seven hours thinking of that fleeting moment when you could almost feel his lips on yours?

Or was that just you?

The night was fading away, your eyelids were getting heavy but you still couldn’t find the will to sleep.

“I’m sorry for today.” You almost whispered, gathering enough courage to mention the little accident “I’m sorry for dragging you with me to the closet.”

He smiled softly, closing his eyes for a second. “It’s okay, it was cozy.” He teased you, making you groan in annoyance. He laughed loudly at your reaction, annoying you even more. “I’m serious, it was okay.”

“Was it really?” You asked him “Wasn’t I being silly?”

“It's okay being silly sometimes.” He assured you, but that did not ease that anxious feeling in your stomach. He seemed to see it in your face. “What’s wrong with being a little silly? I would’ve run from your grandmother, too.”

You bitterly laughed, covering your face with the palms of your hands “Stop, I’m being immature.” You groaned “I’ve got to get my shit together.”

“C’mon Pinky, you have to stop with that.” He said.

“I would if I could.” You remarked.

“Didn’t you say you were going to get your shit together after the holidays?” He reminded you “Why are you worrying right now?”

Yoongi was right, that was the initial plan, but ever since you came back home everything was pointing in different directions and it was beginning to drive you crazy, it was like the universe was forcing you to think about it, it was not letting you run away from it, not even temporarily. First, it was Yoongi, showing up every few days at your doorstep, grabbing your hand, squeezing your legs, whispering things in your ear like he wanted you to go insane, it was Minnie, offering you a job, talking about The Alley, saying you were supposed to be on the big screen, and then it was your mother, expecting you to make up your mind once for all. And still, you had your whole life ahead, why were you worrying right now?

“I don’t know…” You sighed “What if I come back next year and the plan was not good enough? What if I end up hiding again from everyone?”

Yoongi shifted in bed, curious “Do you have a plan, Pinky?” The nickname rolled off his tongue softly, you swimmed in the tenderness of his voice, something about it made you want to tell him everything.

“Not really, I mean… It all sounds so bad.”

“You have a plan.” He affirmed, smiling “I want to hear it.”

“It’s not a plan.” You contradicted yourself “If it were a plan, it would suck.”

Yoongi hummed “It’s something like a plan, then.”

You scrunched your nose, unsure. “Yeah, but not quite like a plan, something like a…” You said, but the words died on your lips before you got the chance to finish.

“Something like a dream, then?” He continued to ask, but you shook your head.

“Something close.” You expressed, unable to find the right words to explain your thoughts. You stayed silent for a second, believing he was beginning to lose interest in the topic, until the words slipped past his lips like a spell.

“Something like a wish.” He pronounced, and he was not asking, it was almost like he knew.

You thought there was not much difference between a dream and a wish, but in this case, there was.

You smiled at him, nodding, somehow you felt you could trust him with all your secrets “Yes, like a wish.” You affirmed, and it felt like a confession. “I don’t know Yoongi, have you ever stayed up late and planned something but when you woke up next morning you felt it was stupid? Well, I do that every night.”

“I’m sure that whatever it is, it’s not stupid.” He said, making your heart swell.

“I would like to believe you…” You murmured “Do you have a dream, Yoongi? Something you’re too scared to wish for?”

You could see him think about it for a moment, but his eyes were still connected with yours. Oh, how you wished to be inside his mind right now, read his thoughts, witness his dreams, know all his secrets.

“Yes.” He confirmed, “But I can’t talk about them out loud right now.”

You laughed, biting your bottom lip. “Okay, fair. What about those you can say out loud?”

“I’m not going to tell you because you’re going to laugh.” He pouted, making you frown.

“Laugh?” You repeated, sounding more offended than you actually were. “I would never, c’mon.”

He raised an eyebrow, testing you “You sure?”

“Of course, don’t piss me off.”

“Fine, fine.” He let out a long sigh, believing you. “My wish would be… to stop time for a while. Sometimes I believe I can’t think when time’s running, all I do is study and come home to my mom, there is very little time that I have for myself.”

You felt your chest tighten, but it didn't surprise you that Yoongi felt this way. He already mentioned to you that, even if taking care of his mother didn’t feel like a burden, he still felt he was missing out on so many things.

“And what would you do if time stopped right now?”

Yoongi shifted his eyes for a moment, and you almost missed it but you saw it, the urge to hold back and the words getting stuck on his throat.

“Mmm…” He hummed, “I’ll go to the beach.”

“In winter?”

“Yes, I wouldn’t care.”

“And where else?” You continued to ask.

“Honestly? I’ll go anywhere but home.” He confessed.

“What’s wrong with home?” You of all people knew exactly what was wrong with home, but you wanted to hear why he thought that.

“Home it’s okay,” He waved off. “It just feels like I spent my whole life there. I went to college expecting something to change, and a lot of things did but I still feel like something else is supposed to happen, like there's something else for me to see.”

It was looking in a mirror, it was the same thing you’ve told him a few days ago but in other words, in another tone. Yoongi sounded resigned, like his wish was clearly something that was not meant to happen and he needed to come to terms with it, nothing could ever make you more sad.

“There’s plenty for you to see, Yoongi, are you kidding?” You chuckled “You’re twenty five, you’re barely grasping life.”

He scoffed, bitterly, “It’s not that easy.”

“Of course it is easy, do you know it’s not necessary to stop time to go to the beach?”

“I know, Pinky.” He agreed, “But what does it feel like running away?”

“Running away would be so bad?” You asked, hearing the question echoing in the room, letting you know that maybe it was something you weren’t supposed to wonder out loud. Yoongi didn’t dare to ask such a question, but you seemed determined to make his wish come true, maybe you were the only one who could do it.

“Don’t ask me.” He said, looking at the ceiling to avoid your gaze. “Don’t act like running away isn’t your wish as well”

You snorted, immediately grabbing a pillow and threatening to punch him in the face with it, but Yoongi is quick to cover his face with his arms.

“Don’t!” He protested, laughing.

“Don’t expose me like that!” You whined, embarrassed.

“What, am I wrong?”

“Maybe you’re not…” You dared to answer, leaving the pillow on the bed again “But how do you know?”

“I told you, Pinky.” He murmured “I just know.”

You shook your head in denial, how could it be? Were you really that transparent or Yoongi really just knew?

“What else do you know?” You continued to ask, curious.

He pretended to think about it, pouting his lips and looking at the ceiling as if the answers were to fall from the sky. His eyes shifted towards yours, tilting his head “I know that you would run away to the beach with me if I asked you to.”

A giggle was built in your throat, you laughed nervously as you tried to decipher if he was joking or not, even if Yoongi could see right through you, it was a bit difficult for you to do the same with him.

“I don’t know about that.” You said, ignoring the way your heart was beating against your ribcage. “Do you mean in… an hypothetical scenario?”

“It’s a hypothetical proposal.” He answered.

“I’ll have to check my schedule first.”

A smirk tugged from the corner of his lips. “What about… two weeks away from now?”

You did the calculation in your head, but you already knew that by then Yoongi would have to go back to class, so you doubted. “What about the semester?” You asked, trying to be the voice of reason. “Your last semester, might I add.”

“That could wait.” He did not hesitate “Isn’t it part of running away? Leaving things behind?”

You laughed “And what would people say about me, then? That I made you leave college, nuh-hu.”

“Here we go again with that.” He rolled his eyes “I don’t care what people say and, besides, I’m not leaving college, I’m… postponing it.”

That didn’t sound like the Yoongi you knew at all, but then again, this whole conversation didn’t sound like anything Yoongi from the past would say. A thousand questions crossed your mind, like what do you do on the beach in winter? Wouldn’t being alone be a problem? What are you going to talk about, where are you going to stay? If you say yes, would he grab your hand when you crossed the street, would he try to kiss you again?

You crossed your arms, thinking about it, not daring to agree right away, but how could you say no? When he was looking at you, convinced that you would say yes.

You opened your mouth, not sure what you were going to say but still ready to answer, and before you could utter a word, he interrupted you. “Run away with me to the beach, Pinky.” He asked in a soft tone, looking at you with warm eyes and warm words, making your heart shake violently in your chest “Only for now, I promise I’ll make it worth it.”

You smiled, ignoring that little person inside you that tried to warn you about something, but you weren’t sure about what because all you could feel was your heart racing. “Fine, I’ll follow you for now.” You simply said, trying to sound as cool as possible “Let’s run.”

In that moment you forgot about years and years of disappointment and failed dreams, failed wishes, you ignored the reality, deciding everything was false and true at the same time. You didn’t need to look at the clock to know that it was midnight, something inside your chest sparkled and told you it was time to make your wish, and for some reason, you listened. It echoed in every corner of your mind, your wish was the beach in winter.

Four days before New Year’s Eve

Two weeks ago, when you bought Yoongi’s Christmas gift, you thought about it like a farewell. You stood in the shop and talked to the tall man with the long face and chose the gift as you tried to convince yourself this was a way of saying goodbye to him.

That Christmas morning Yoongi tore the brown wrapping paper and opened the long box to find that you decided to give him a red tie. It wasn’t bright red, it was deep dark red, red like a rose. It came with a notebook and a pen with his initials on them. In your mind, you were giving away that version of him that lived in your head and clung to your thoughts and clung to your heart, that version of him you could never let go. Yoongi was about to graduate, he was about to become officially a lawyer, an adult, a man, he wasn’t that boy you fell in love with years ago, he was a wish you had to let in the past and your gift was just a way to remind you of it. You had a purpose, a plan, you had everything figured out until he decided to ask you to run away with him, until you said yes.

His gifts for you were a vinyl copy of Is This It by The Strokes, two tickets to watch When Harry Met Sally at the Alley the following week and a pair of red gloves for the rest of the winter.

Yoongi looked at you and smiled like you both knew something everyone else in the room didn’t. “The gloves match with the tie.” He had said.

So now you had no plan, what you did have though, was a bunch of pictures of several locations Yoongi thought of booking for your trip to the beach. You were doomed.

You thought the only person in this town who could possibly understand what you were going through was Minnie, the only person in the world who knew about your feelings for Yoongi, and the only person who you could call a friend at the moment.

You weren’t expecting to see Minnie again when you saw her at The Alley a few weeks ago, but she had different plans; it was like she forced you to be her friend again. You tried to stop thinking you didn’t deserve it, you had to swallow your guilt and accept her friendship, and after a few five hour calls filled with gossip, you ultimately decided not to be against it, even if she called you everyday and still talked nonstop about that audition in the city, talking with her felt like you were still fifteen, and you liked it.

That night, as she raided her closet looking for a dress for you to wear at the New Year’s party at The Alley, you sat on her bed and gave her a run down of everything that happened with Yoongi since you came back home, it didn’t take her much to get you to admit that you were still in love with your brother’s best friend, so you might as well be honest and tell her everything.

“You’re being stupid right now, sweetheart.” You heard her muffled voice from inside her closet. The next thing you saw was a piece of fabric flying in the air and landing at your feet. You grabbed it, putting in front of you to reveal a short pink dress that you would never, ever wear.

You snorted, leaving the dress on the pile of clothes that you already rejected. You seemed to forget that Minnie was not the most adequate person to talk about “boy stuff”, perhaps because she was way too honest. You didn’t know whether it was a mistake or not to tell her about the trip to the beach, because all the questions she was asking and all the things she was stating to be true were thoughts you were desperately trying to avoid.

“He wants to fuck you, I don’t know how else to tell you this.” She said, walking over the clothes to make her way to you. You threw yourself on the bed, covering your face with your palms “I mean, I wish I could only tell you that he’s head over heels for you, and honey, that he is, but he also wants to fuck you.”

You groaned, kicking your feet. “God, you make me want to throw up.”

“Of excitement, I’m assuming.” She affirmed “I’m telling you, there’s no way you’re going on a trip alone and come back without having fucked.”

You looked at her, begging her to stop talking, but she was not finished. “Stop!”

“Picture this.” She ignored you, forming a rectangle with her fingers and looking right through it as if she was directing a scene from a movie “First scenario, a storm causes the power to go out, there’s no electricity, you have no way to be warm so you sleep in the same bed to warm up, there’s tension, you look at each other and kiss, you fuck.”

“Okay, I don’t see that happening.” You shook your head.

“Second scenario, you just finished showering, you go out of the bathroom wearing only a towel because you think he’s not there, but he is! He sees you, you kiss, you fuck.”

“That’s not… That sounds like porn.”

“Third scenario!” She exclaimed.

“Fine, that’s enough.” You stopped her, waving your arms in the air.

“No, you have to prepare! And when it happens you will know that I was right.” Your friend insisted, but you refused to let any of those ideas in your mind.

“What if you’re not?” You wondered “What if he just wants to be my friend and I’m just imagining everything?”

“But you are not, are you kidding?” She laughed “That man is clearly in love with you, why are you convincing yourself otherwise?”

You felt Minnie’s body sitting right next to you, causing you to sit back on the bed to look at her face to face. You were sure you were about to start crying out of frustration. “I don’t know, what if I get hurt?”

Minnie pursed her lips “Baby, I can’t answer that question at all, but you have to take the chance.”

You groaned, annoyed. “I don’t want to take the chance.” You whined “I was fine before seeing him again, I wasn’t even thinking of him.”

“That is a lie,” She laughed, mocking you. “We both know you never stopped being in love with him, now you have him in the palm of your hand, do something.”

Minnie stood up again, looking for another piece of clothing on the floor as you kept silent, wondering if any of that could be possible. Did you really have him in the palm of your hand? Was he in love with you and you were being stupid for believing that he wanted to be just friends?

“What should I do?” You asked her, hoping that the redhead in the room knew all the secrets of the universe.

“Invite him to the New Year’s party and wear a hot outfit, how about that?” Minnie offered, like that could answer all your prayers.

“Would that resolve all my problems?” You joked, talking to the sky.

“C’mon, he literally asked you to run away with him, don’t you find that a little bit hot? Don’t you really think that was not code for ‘I want to fuck you’?”

You laughed “Yoongi is not like that!” You protested.

“I hate to break it to you, but you are hot.” She insisted, throwing another piece of clothing at your face. “And if Yoongi is not blind, he knows that, and let’s not forget the most important fact here.”

“Which is…?”

“He’s in love with you, let’s start wrapping our heads around that.” She simply said “Once that’s done, you invite him to the New Year’s eve party at The Alley, you wear a hot outfit and confront him about it, tell him to stop playing around.”

You grabbed the dress Minnie just threw at you, which was another short dress, but this one was actually cute. It was black and was covered in black sparkly sequins with thin straps, you were definitely going to freeze to death if you wore that, but you were sure this fitted the description of “hot outfit”.

Minnie was right, you couldn’t keep running away from the facts, everything was laid on the table, you didn’t need more proof to know that Yoongi felt something for you, even if you weren’t sure if it was the same that you felt for him, you needed to gather enough courage to find out what it was.

You grabbed the phone in your pocket and opened Yoongi’s chat, you decided to invite him to the New Year’s party.

taglist: @kingofbodyrolls @overtherainbow35 @namin13 @p34rluv @moonchild1 @yoongisoftface @namgihours @idkjustlovingbts @yoongisducky @bangtansmauyeondan @tarahardcore @wobblewobble822 @secfir @ot72025 @baechugff @heroinanne @mortal-body-timelesssoul @hiii-priestess @wii-wii @jungkookies1002 @busanbby-jjk @acquiescence804 @yoongibaybee @hsbongwater

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intimidating-fettuccine · 6 months ago

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Hmm how abouttt LJ, Jason and Candy (separate) with an s/o who's been like, reaally busy recently and doesn't get to see them as much as they'd like to. And whenever they do see each other, the reader is always exhausted and tied, but still tries their best to hang out with them. Even if they are this 🤏 close to passing out

HIII BTW ILYSM

Hello, I hope you enjoy~

LJ:

Jack tries not to let it show that he's been pretty upset about not being able to spend time with you. He tries to keep on a brave face and a smile because he knows you're working so hard, but that doesn't mean it isn't hard for him, even if he knows it's hard for you too. He waits patiently, though, always encouraging you and wishing you the best with your job. When you're finally free to spend time with him, Jack heavily insists that the two of you do nothing at all. He can save any fun adventures he wants to do for when you have much more free time and more energy. For now, he's content to just be in your presence. He'll lay in bed with you, perhaps snacking around, just snuggling up to you and holding you, getting in that physical contact he so frequently desires. He'll ask you about your day, and tell you about his, and just be extremely affectionate, pressing kisses all over you and nuzzling into pretty much every part of your skin. He doesn't mind if you eventually fall asleep in his arms, he knows more than anyone how tired you are and how hard you've been working. He's more than content to still just be able to hold you and be with you like this. When morning comes he'll get out of bed with you and eat with you before sending you off with a big kiss, a hug, and a smile, because he knows no matter what that you'll still come home to him, and he'll be waiting at the front door ready to greet you and welcome you home, just as he always does.

Jason:

Jason doesn't really know what to do with himself. I mean, he existed before you came into his life, obviously, so shouldn't he be able to just do what he used to before he met you in his free time? He buries himself into work or spending time with his friends, but no matter what he tries to do to distract himself, his thoughts are stuck solely on you. Are you eating well? Are you making sure to stay hydrated while you work such long hours? Are you taking breaks or are you forgoing them to keep working? It saddens him a bit that he can't just easily ask you like he normally would, as lately when you get home you just shower quickly and collapse into bed, barely being able to speak to him. Today, on the other hand, you were lucky enough to come home earlier than you have been, and Jason fully took control of this opportunity. He makes sure, first and foremost, that you eat a nice, big dinner since it's luckily still warm from the dinner everyone ate earlier. After that, he takes you back to his room and pampers you as much as he can. Whether a shower or a bath, he washes you off and rinses you, covering you in loving kisses all the while, before drying you and curling up in bed with you. He sneaks in his worried questions between kisses and cuddles, making sure you're truly okay. He's never cared about someone as much as he does you, and as he wishes you well the following morning, he can't help but hope for a quick return from you, so he can pamper you all over again.

Candy:

Candy, I think, handles it the best out of all of them. He misses you, obviously, and he'd much rather be spending his time with you by his side, but he's able to occupy himself better than the other two. He knows worrying about you constantly will only stress him out, so he does what he can to have faith in you and wait eagerly for your return. When you do return, he makes sure to check in on you, give you a few kisses, and then he hoists you into his arms. He carries you to the kitchen and settles you down, before cooking something nice and fresh for you. He's the best cook of the three of them, and he makes sure to cook you something delicious, he'll even do one of your favorites if you'd like him to. After that, he takes you upstairs to shower and get ready for bed, and then he settles down with you to rest for the remainder of the evening. He'll lay you down to rest and give you a nice, relaxing massage to relieve all of that tension you've got built up, and then he'll sit up in bed and plop you onto his lap. He likes to look into that cute face of yours as he talks to you about your day and the things keeping you so busy at work. He wishes you luck on your tasks, and he answers any questions you might have for him about what he's been doing. When you finally fall asleep in his arms he presses a few kisses to your forehead, shutting out the light and curling up with you in bed, wishing you a goodnight and a restful sleep. He even makes sure to escort you to work the next day, making sure you can rest even longer.

#creepypasta #creepypasta headcanon #creepypasta headcanons #creepypasta x reader #candy pop #candy pop x reader #candy pop headcanons #candy pop headcanon #jason the toymaker #jason the toymaker x reader #jason the toymaker headcanon #jason the toymaker headcanons #laughing jack #laughing jack x reader #laughing jack headcanon #laughing jack headcanons

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fuwaprince · 11 months ago

Text

👉👈 Hi friends! I have a long, serious post made just for you(!) that isn't full of spoilers, smut or mooning lawn gnomes. Please read if you can, this is a 💥 mutual aid request 💥

It has been a horribly painful and long while as most people following/keeping up with me know. and in a few days I'm going to be down $1500, which is basically all my fucking $

I can't afford Christmas for anybody, which sucks and I'm very sorry. I can't even take care of myself and haven't been, which also sucks and I'm very sorry

Landlords spontaneously raised rent on me more than halfway through this month as punishment for not getting to my house chores and not communicating, to be totally honest with you. I feel ashamed and awful about it but I didn't want to clean the place while multiple ppl living here had tested positive for COVID and kept walking around unmasked... I am not fully vaxxed because I've been too depressed to get any kind of necessary medical care done and I didn't want to catch COVID in the middle of my finals week for the semester. I woke up to being angrily and rudely bitched at first thing after the last of my finals (I passed at least). It wasn't a humanizing text. Fuck the mistreatment though. Rent is now almost doubled and it won't be lowered

There was no room for negotiation and I truly believe they've resorted to pricing me out of living here because the group of renters psychologically tormenting me wasn't effective (actually- putting a picture of my rapist on the fridge rly was super effective in getting me to isolate myself in my room all day and so was outing me as trans to the transphobic ass neighbors.... But I didn't and still don't have any place better to move out to, like the way they were hoping I would. Yes, I have looked and BEGGED btw)

I want out of here NOW, but I can't leave. I tried and had to come back because it was the best option. I can't afford to stay in a motel/hotel/BnB just to get away from them for a day or two during Christmas. I don't have any friends who I can spend the holiday with either. During the semester, I resorted to convincing classmates with keys to locked buildings to let me crash in them while they worked at night and I would leave before anybody showed up. Now that school is out, I can't do that. I don't have any family I can reach out to for support or friends who I can depend on for immediate help. I have been crying day in and day out for weeks. I have records of it posted throughout my blog. Literally crying for days on end. I'm being so fucking transparent

All that lump of text is to explain to whoever is out there, who might be listening and willing and able, to please consider helping me, if and ONLY IF able. I know times are tough and if you'd rather use your $ for other reasons or just don't have any to spare, don't sweat it and take care! 🫂

I've thought about what I could do for a long time and have helped myself how I can. It isn't enough. I've applied for so much assistance. Been approved and been sabotaged by my inhumane mom (who does not love me) via stealing my legal documents and letters and hiding them for months. My mind jumps to grim places but I'm clinging for dear life to whatever hope I have left that says things will get better. I wish I knew somebody with a business that I could work for. Part of me feels so fucking terrible for asking for help because I feel like a waste of all your resources. I feel like I shouldn't ask, like I really do not fucking deserve help, but there are friends online who care, who I know mentioned being interested in helping in whatever ways they can

So to the people who care to seriously me, I'm ready to accept it: please send me nice words to get through this and feel less alone. It feels pathetic to ask but I would love a nice letter. A nice card even. Kind words of any kind would go a long way. It means more to me than food. I have felt so broken and every day feels like a test to figure out how badly I actually want to live

I'm also leaving my cash app and paypal here in case anybody would like to do more than what I'm comfortable asking but probably very likely will inevitably need very very soon. I will be left with fucking nothing and I will have no idea what to do once rent is paid

Thank you to those of you who have sent love, offered to listen and heard me out. I really wish it wasn't so hard to survive. I'm trying to feel better knowing there are people out there who are also without help and hoping the best, but it doesn't make me feel any better or comforted tbh. I just wish the help was there for us. I wish there was a place to go for spare love, care, compassion, empathy, kindness, humanity, generosity... I need that more than I need $. Call me stupid but that's what I live for. I don't live for paying to survive in terrible conditions. I live for love and to smile with friends

I hope to write back to the friends who have already been so kind as to message me soon btw. I'm sorry for not replying sooner. Your overwhelming support is sincerely sweet and sometimes I cry because I can't believe people are so nice (to me???). It'll give me something to do that doesn't make me feel like dying! :') so thank you thank you thank you *fist bump*

Hope you're all doing as well as you can and that somehow things get better. Hope anybody else struggling like me doesn't make the mistake of isolating like a sick and dying animal. You deserve love. You deserve support. Don't be like me. Have the courage to reach out to the people who care about you for help as early on into your emergency as possible. Don't let your situation snowball because you spend so long trying to figure out if you're worth it!!! This Random Tumblr user is here to tell you that YOU ARE. Sending my infinite everlasting unconditional love. Be nice to yourselves. Be nice to each other. Fuck the hateful assholes who wish I would just kill myself already. Tell your friends you love them. Happy Holidays!!!

And here's a single picture of a mooning lawn gnome at the very end, as a treat! I told you this post wasn't full of it.... It just ended with it 👉👉

#i decided i rather write a help post rather than a suicide note or my own obituary #sorry to ask for your attention AGAIN #mutual aid #important #help #i'm very sorry #mutuals can all kick my ass once for not abandoning me during these times #i wish i had a $ goal but i do not as of now #I'm taking it a day at a time #doing my very best and trying so damn fucking hard.. please help #i rly would just like to escape and have my own tiny place one day.... some place i can live and love happily in #i was on the steets earlier this year and living out of my ex's car. i do not want to go back to that out of desperation #i have been through so much just trying to survive in place where i don't feel like i belong or welcomes me #i need help #babbling

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multi-fics · 8 months ago

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Hi! I want to request a Thomas Thorne x ghost! reader with the reader being a ghost from the 1960s! They're from America and was visiting the Button House when they died (or murdered if you want to include that). The reader is pretty oblivious to advances Thomas makes, as they believe it's just a sort of thing he does as a poet (like a persona in a way). Reader is as down bad for Thomas as he is for them, though lol. Reader can manipulate any radios nearby to play a certain station or sound.

Sorry if this is a lot! You can leave out what you wish to. Have a good day/night! Thank you :]

HAUNTED BROADCAST

A/N: Thanks so much for requesting! This is literally such a good idea woah, I hope you like it :) Also I haven’t watched ghosts in a while so I’m sorry if Thomas is OOC, btw this is my first post so it’s bound to have bad writing D:

Pairing: Thomas Thorne x GN!ghost!reader

Warnings: talks of how reader died (also Thomas being a simp for reader)

Thomas walked through the halls of Button House nervously, he had just composed a new poem and had to tell someone before he forgot. The first person he absolutely needed to tell, was of course you.

You were his muse for his newest poem, not that he would admit it, he was scared that if he actually admitted his feelings for you, he would be rejected, like how his advances with Alison would often turn out.

The others would constantly tease his giddy nature around you, but Thomas always made an excuse to them, that the reason you were always the first to hear his poems was because you could broadcast his performance on the radio that Alison would conveniently leave in the sitting room, which is where you were the moment he reached the bottom of the stairs.

"Oh thank goodness, you're here! I need you-", Thomas was cut off by you letting out a giggle as you proceeded for him, knowing exactly what he was going to say, "Hey sweetie you need the radio?"

Thomas grinned bashfully, trying his hardest to hide his lovestruck blush by your nickname for him, well you actually called everyone 'sweetie', but the delusional romantic that Thomas was, made him convince himself that it made him particularly special.

"Yes, how did you know? Oh my, you must be able to read minds on top of controlling that contraption!"

You smile and playfully roll your eyes at his signature dramatics, "No silly, you ask for the radio almost everyday.”

Trying your hardest to distract yourself from his charm, you prepared yourself to focus hard, “Right sweetie you can start in 3, 2, 1.", you flexed your fingers and placed your index finger on the tip of the radio antenna, focusing all your strength on sending a broadcast through the radio stations just like you had done over the decades of knowing Thomas.

Thomas then started to recite his poem from the top of his head, he spoke confidently as he always did, but unfortunately as was the way, most of the time you could not listen to his work. Focusing on the radio was your job and having to multitask was not an option, so with a guilty heart you had to pretend you heard every word and applaud him once he had finished.

Thomas smiled proudly, “Did you like it?”

“Yeah, it was beautiful sugar, probably your best work to date.”, your proud smile strained on your face as guilt ran through your body, you deeply cared for Thomas but at this moment you wished he would leave so you could stop feeling bad for him.

“What are you two up to? Another poem Thomas?”, Alison asked walking into the room alone.

You looked at Alison gratefully, now Thomas’ attention would be elsewhere and you wouldn’t have to lie. “Hey Thomas I think The Captain is looking for you.”

You and Thomas frowned, confused as to why The Captain of all people would be looking for him. “He just wants to talk to you, now go before he gets cross!”, Alison shooed an utterly confused Thomas up the stairs; she returned to the sitting room and took her place next to you.

You raised a brow suspiciously at Alison, “What was that all about?”, you couldn’t decipher why Alison looked almost giddy at you.

“Didn’t you hear the poem that Thomas was performing just now?!”, Alison couldn’t wipe off the now cheeky smile off her face.

“I’m sorry sugar but I really don’t know what you mean. The thing is I don’t listen to his poems, I’m so focused on broadcasting them that it takes up my attention. I know it’s horrible that I lie to him afterwards, but he just looks so happy it would crush me to tell him the truth.”

“That’s probably the best since none of his poems are that great.”, Alison had slipped out, not realising she was thinking out loud. As she slapped her hand over her mouth, you looked offended at her and she proceeded to raise her hands in surrender, eventhough she secretly thought she was right. “That’s not nice, I’m sure you’re wrong Alison.”

“Hey, I never actually asked, how can you control the radio?”, Alison looked at you curiously. “Well it’s because I died in the 1960s, radios were the rage back then.”, you replied as if it were obvious, considering you were still wearing very stereotypical 60s clothing too.

“Right so how did you die?”, you raised a brow at Alison, “well aren’t you full of questions today”, you sighed and got comfortable on the sofa.

“It all started back in my hometown in the US. I was married to my partner who was very wealthy back in the day and they had friends here in England.”, Alison had opened her mouth to ask a question but you continued to talk, wanting this explanation over with as quickly as possible.

“I didn’t much care for flying, I got airsick a lot but my partner had forced me to go with them for the sake of being polite.”, you paused for a moment getting lost in thought when Alison tapped the sofa closest to you to proceed, “Anyways, we had made our way to Button House, where my partner’s friends lived and we stayed here for a couple days, we partied and traveled around town, it was fun, no doubt about it, but I was always left out. I wasn’t friends with anyone else at the house and my partner was so wrapped up in the fun they forgot about me.”, Alison kept her gaze on you apologetically.

“It was the last night of our vacation, everyone was drunk excluding me, I didn’t mind a drink here and there but I wanted to make sure at least one of us could wake up on time to catch our flight the next morning. I was making my way upstairs to the guest room.”, you both turned towards the sound of Pat and Robin bickering on the top of the stairs, you turned back to face Alison, this time with an uncharacteristically serious expression.

“It was very late at night, I was tired, it was dark, so I wasn’t watching where I was going and I slipped at the top step, it caused me to fall all the way to the bottom and that’s how I died.”, you refrained from getting too detailed with the process of your death since it was too much for you to explain.

“It was so strange when I became a ghost, frightening, to see yourself watching over your own body just lying there. That was nowhere near as scary as when I first met the others though, it was all so overwhelming, but of course the only exception to the group was that Pat and Julian weren’t dead yet. They became my new family very quickly, they didn’t make me feel left out and were all so caring, especially Thomas, he was the one who made me eventually discover my talent with the radio.”, you smiled fondly thinking back on those days of newly being a ghost, “So that’s how I died, anything else you wanna know sweetie?”, your signature smile returning to your face.

“Woah that’s so sad, I’m so sorry I just get really interested in how you all died, I never think about how it must feel to retell it. I wish I could give you a hug.”

“That’s alright sweetie and please don’t hug me. I’m sure you’re a great hugger, but you know, it feels super freaky.”

“Oh you know you should really talk to Thomas, tell him the truth that you didn’t hear his poem. He’s so smitten I don’t even think he’s capable of being mad at you. The truth is, I was eavesdropping and I heard some of the poem, you need to hear it.”, she said fighting a smile on her face which you were oblivious to, you could only imagine what Thomas’ poem could be about.

Without another word you sat up and mindlessly walked through the sitting room and up the stairs, making sure to check the top step as was your routine. “Have you seen Thomas?”, you asked Pat who was still bickering with Robin.

Pat noticed you wringing your hands nervously through your clothes and smiled warmly at you, “I think he’s in his room dear, he’s been in a right state you know.”, he said and picked up where he left off in his argument with Robin. You nodded and carried yourself through the hallway leading to Thomas’ room.

The door was shut so you stomped your foot gently on the wooden floor and Thomas spoke quietly from inside his room, “The door is open.”, you sucked in a breath and walked through the closed door. “Thomas we have to talk.”, he furrowed his brows and nodded, he knew you must be serious since you didn’t use your usual nickname for him, “Speak my dear, tell me what worries you.”

You sighed and sat next to him on his bed, “I must confess that I haven’t been listening to your poems whilst broadcasting them. Before you say anything, I’m so so sorry sweetie, I really wish I could but broadcasting takes up all of my focus.”, Thomas just blinks at you.

“Well?”

“Is that all?”

“Yes … that’s it. I’m so sorry.”

“I thought it would be worse, I thought you would say you didn’t like me.”

“I would never say that Thomas, of course I like you, I always will.”

“Could you recite your poem for me again, I want to hear it.”, you asked now feeling much better after confessing your guilt to Thomas.

“Um of course.”, Thomas cleared his throat and stood up in front of you. He couldn’t take his eyes off you; the feeling was mutual and the tension between the two of you grew stronger.

“I feel so unsure,

As I take your hand and lead you to the dance floor,

As the music dies, something in your eyes,

Calls to mind a silver screen,

And all its sad good-byes—”

“I'm never gonna dance again

Guilty feet have got no rhythm

Though it's easy to pretend

I know you're not a foollll”, Pat had been walking past Thomas’ room, cutting him off since he recognised the lyrics, he was very off beat but regardless he caught the two off guard and completely ruined the moment.

“Patrick! How on earth did you know the lines to my poem?!”, Thomas asked completely shocked at Pat’s sudden appearance.

“It’s a song from my time mate, it’s a classic!”, he smiled oblivious of what he had ruined and danced down the hall, singing the rest of ‘careless whisper’.

Thomas pouted, he was upset that he couldn’t complete his poem. “Um Thomas as beautiful as that was, I think Pat is right. I do recall hearing that song on the radio, it’s called ‘careless whisper’ by George Michael.”

“Um who is George Michael, is this man a poet?”

“I guess you could say that, yeah.”

He gasped loudly, “Oh my goodness I must send my apologies to Sir George Michael at once! How could I plagiarise such a talented individual!”

“Oh sweetie that’s not necessary, he’s dead too, unfortunately.”

“Oh, what a shame his poem was beautiful. It made me think of you my dear.”

“You know that song is about love right?”

“Yes, I gathered from the words.”

“…is there any particular reason you chose that song to recite to me specifically?”

Thomas sucked in a breath and blushed, “Yes there is a reason. I think you know that for a very long time, like since you came to Button House, even when you were alive, I fell in love with you.”

“Y-you have loved me for that long?!”, standing up to face him properly, in shock, had you really been so painfully oblivious?

“You didn’t know? I thought I made it obvious. All of my poems were for you, you have been in my dreams almost every night, surely you must have known.”

“I’m sorry Thomas I didn’t know, but I have loved you for a long time too, I just didn’t think you shared my feelings. Telling you could have ruined our friendship which is something I treasure.”

“Don’t worry my love.” Thomas smiled bashfully and took your hands in his. “May I kiss you?”

You smiled leaning your forehead against his, “You may sweetie.”

He pressed his lips to yours gently and you returned his kiss as ‘careless whisper’ started playing on the radio downstairs.

#bbc ghosts x reader #bbc ghosts #thomas thorne #thomas thorne x reader #fluff #fanfics

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crippled-peeper · 7 months ago

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I really used to love your blog, but you are being incredibly hostile to people who want to learn and you are assuming people mean to be malicious. As a disabled person, I totally get it. In a sense, pretty much anything that isn't a specifically disabled space (and even sometimes those as well) ARE hostile to disabled people and create tons of barriers that make it difficult just to survive and exist. I understand your frustration, I understand that it is something you desperately need to express. But at some point, it becomes better for you to let the opinions of others go or to try and shift your mindset that not everyone is out to attack you. By all means, block whoever you want to block, express yourself however you want to express yourself. But as a fellow disabled person, I no longer can relate to or find comfort in your posts. Most of which as of lately are FILLED with hostility and are incredibly defensive (which again, I TOTALLY understand.) I only send this ask to wish the best for you. I hope that you can find some place that feels safe, some place and people who accommodate and take care of you. I hope that you can believe in a future where people truly want to help and learn. And I hope that the hate in your heart does not continue to grow. Hating the world does not keep you safe from it. You do not need to bring hostility to the world, the way it seems to do for you. I wish for you to feel safe enough to have an open heart and find happiness as a disabled person.

Hey. I just want you to know that I don’t care like not even slightly. Please unfollow me, in fact block me. I have no patience for this manipulative bullshit.

I’m going to die some day (probably sooner rather than later) and I don’t exist to suck your toes and jack you off while you constantly question my humanity and my right to have the most basic human comforts

Maybe you should work on why you see other disabled human beings (who have feelings, btw!) as living Wikipedia pages who should calmly and joyously educate you while you say stupid shit to them, repeatedly, and without a single care about how it makes them feel.

I know you thought it would be, but my self worth is not located in the approval of random people who don’t even have the balls to come off anon and talk to me.

Farewell, bucko.

#ableism

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im-not-corrupted · 9 months ago

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Well I gotta send in a request now!

How about 4 - "Well, this is rather cliché" with Dreamling? ❤️ (Happy early V-day btw!)

Oooo this one was fun! Happy early Valentine's day!

-------

He has, admittedly, been avoiding Hob Gadling for quite some time now.

There is a valid reason, regardless of whether or not Matthew and Johanna believe him. There is simply too much in his head, his chest a mess of tangled feelings, and he knows already how this ends. This is a story he has lived through plenty of times before; it never ends well, and there are some things that are simply not worth it in the end.

Like ruining the friendship he and Hob have now. It has taken years for them to get to this point, and he values his friend's company far more than he'll ever be able to put into words at this point. He decided, when he realised that his own feelings went a little bit beyond friendship, that it would be simple to just--avoid it all. To not think about it.

Not thinking about it is harder than Dream would like. His thoughts turn to Hob constantly, unbidden, and there is no escaping it, not unless he buries himself in his work. In his writing.

Which he has tried his best to do, only Matthew and Lucienne both seem to believe that isn't healthy of him. This, he supposes, might very well be true, but he doesn't quite have the capacity to care.

Until Matthew and Johanna both decide to interfere. Which is how he ends up in the back of Johanna's car, with Matthew singing terribly off-key to the music blasting from the radio, a situation he thinks might very well be his own personal kind of hell. He already has a headache forming and has a feeling it'll only get worse as the evening goes on--he doesn't have a clue as to why he is here, but it cannot be good.

There is a reason he does not often talk to people. Really, the friendships he has with Johanna and Matthew weren't really his choice--they both wormed their way into his life without asking and somehow managed to stick around.

He is not. Unhappy. With that. He has come to value their friendship, too. They care for him, even if he cannot quite understand why.

Still. He does not often talk to people, and that is simply because that does not go hand-in-hand with his own lifestyle. He wishes to remain inside the walls of his apartment, where he doesn't have to think too hard on...on everything. On his own subconscious insistence on ruining almost every good thing he has. Inside his apartment, he can simply...write. Play music. Get out of his own head until its noise doesn't feel quite so overwhelming, until it becomes manageable.

This. Is not manageable. It is not. And though he is fond of both Matthew and Johanna--he is, even if he has some difficulty showcasing it--he already wishes they had not dragged him out.

"What," he asks eventually, when Matthew grows bored of the radio and the silence grows too heavy, "am I doing here?"

It is a question he has asked at least four times already. It is a question he will continue to ask until he gains an answer. If he does, that is. He has never been very good at surprises--he is not very good at surprises here either.

Matthew twists around in the passenger seat, shooting him a grin that Dream can only describe as 'mischievous'. Which, really, doesn't bode well at all. "Oh, you'll see!"

"I hope you realise just how uncomforting that is," he deadpans.

Johanna tells him, "Get over it. This is for your own fucking good."

He almost asks what that means--almost, because his eyes are trained on the windows, and he knows these streets. Has walked them a couple of times before now.

This is the route to The New Inn.

"The New Inn?" he asks, and dread opens up, a chasm beneath him. His stomach drops to the floor of the car. "What--"

"The New Inn," Matthew confirms. The grin on his face has only gotten wider, though that fades when he looks at Dream. He sighs before saying, "Listen. Dream. You can't avoid the man forever."

"I can, if you stop interfering," he points out. He would appreciate less interference, actually. He would really appreciate less interference. Avoidance may hurt--and, god, it does, he has ached and ached since he first realised just how foolish he was being by daring to want more--but it is the best option. The only option, at least until he has his own feelings under some semblance of control. He will not allow this to ruin what he has with Hob, something the two of them fought for painstakingly.

It took years. Of Hob's persistence, and his saint-like patience. It took years of Dream avoiding whatever kindness he was offered, believing himself to be above it all, until his life was abruptly ruined by Burgess.

It took a lot of time to get over that one afterwards. But Hob was there, a shoulder to cry on if he needed it, an anchor in the middle of the storm. Johanna and Matthew, he met those two afterwards, but Hob--he was there since the beginning, and held him through it all.

Dream is grateful for him. For him, and for his older sister Death, who decided to offer him kindness, too. He can't ruin their friendship. What would he do without it? Without the chance to see Hob's smile, warm and gentle and loving, every time the two of them saw each other?

He would rather avoid the other man for a few weeks, until his heart outgrows its foolishness, than attempt to pursue anything. It will not end well--he has a long line of failed relationships to prove that one, and doesn't want to add Hob's name onto the end of that list. He will not be the one to ruin Hob.

Johanna snorts. She doesn't look back at him, for she's the one driving and she wisely keeps her eyes on the road, but if she could, Dream just knows she'd give him a very unimpressed glare. She's rather impressive at those. "Fuck off," she says, her voice sharp. "Have you even texted him in the last fucking week? The man's a wreck!"

"...I texted him," he answers. It is weak, though the answer isn't a lie. He has texted Hob, though only once before he decided the best option would be to simply turn off his phone. At least that way his attempts to get over his infatuation will be undisturbed. But he did. He has a feeling, though, that Johanna meant more than just once.

Then the rest of what Johanna said dawns on him, and guilt flares, ready to swallow him whole. "A wreck? Is he alright?"

"Well, you haven't texted him for what--three, four weeks now?" Johanna asked. "What the fuck do you think? He's asked me twice now to make sure you aren't dead in a ditch already."

"You need to talk to him," Matthew piped in. "So neither of you go insane."

"I'm not going insane," he protests, but it falls on deaf ears. Which, he supposes, might be due to the fact that Johanna is pulling up in front of The New Inn now.

It looks...surprisingly empty, despite the lights on in the windows. He blinks at the sight. It is Valentine's Day, so it certainly comes as a surprise. It isn't necessarily the most romantic of places to take a partner, but it does happen. Dream remembers the bustle of last year's Valentine's Day rather well, and he wonders why it is so empty now.

Perhaps Hob simply decided to forgo Valentine's day celebrations this year and leave The New Inn closed for the day. That doesn't quite fit with his perception of Hob, but it is a good and reasonable answer that fits a tiny bit too well with Johanna's previous statement of 'The man's a wreck', which is...discomfiting.

"Alright, in you go," Matthew tells him.

Dream simply stares at the building and makes no attempt to move.

"For fuck's sake, go," he says again. "We'll be here to drive you back if everything goes as bad as you seem to think it will. You need to fucking talk already. It's either that or we sit here all night."

The thing is--the thing is, honestly, that now that the opportunity is close enough for him to grasp, every part of him wants to walk into The New Inn. To see Hob again, to bask in the light of his company, despite every bit of logic telling him that it is, perhaps, the worst idea he's had in years.

But he has never been particularly great at resisting impulses, and certainly not ones he knows will end badly. So he sighs heavily and simply says, long-suffering and exhausted, "Very well."

It is, in the end, an easy feat to open the door of the car. The evening air is cold, stinging his face instantly, and he shivers in his coat as he makes the walk up to The New Inn, deciding it is simply best to ignore Matthew's far too loud call of Go get him, tiger that Dream is fairly sure the entire neighbourhood also heard.

He stands there for a couple of moments. Now that he is really there, that the door is in front of him, crossing that threshold seems suddenly impossible. He should--he should turn back, should leave before it all goes wrong. What was he thinking, deciding this would be a good idea?

He doesn't get to turn back. The door opens before he can put thought into action, and Hob is standing there, haloed by the lights on inside. He looks--well, he looks just as lovely as always, and the one on Dream's face is one so warm that it makes his heart flip in his chest. He rues that, the ease with which all his attempts to put distance between his feelings and himself are made futile simply by glancing at Hob's face.

"You're here," the other man breathes, and without warning, Dream is pulled into a hug.

It is. Warm. Lovely. Everything Dream has wanted these last few weeks, since deciding avoidance was the best route to go down. And he can't help but to hug back, a little awkward but still heartfelt.

It is over sooner than he wants it to be, but he resists the urge to pull Hob back. That, he thinks, really would make distancing himself from his feelings difficult, and things are hard enough as it is.

"Come on, come in," his friend says, and he pulls Dream by the wrist inside. It isn't a particularly rough grip--he is careful with Dream, gentle, and though the prideful part of him always rears its head at the display of tenderness, for he doesn't want to be treated or seen as weak, he is grateful for it--and he can pull away easily, but he follows along instead, soon engulfed by the cosiness of The New Inn instead of the frigid cold outside.

Despite his earlier theories, Hob did not forgo Valentine's Day celebrations. If anything, he seemed to have gone above and beyond, at least with the decorations--there are red and white decorations everywhere. Heart balloons, streamers, little heart-shaped decorations upon the tables--it is an assault on his senses, one he didn't expect, and he takes a second to take in the sight. It certainly requires some adjustment.

"Well, this is..." he starts, but lets the sentence trail off.

Beside him, Hob snorts. When Dream turns to look at him, he rubs the back of his neck sheepishly. "Rather cliché, I know," he says wryly. "This was all Matthew. He...thought this would be a good idea? For...some reason? I have to admit, I'm not entirely sure what his thought process here was. I only said I wanted to talk to you, to make sure you were alright, and he did...this."

"...Ah." He has a feeling he understands Matthew's thought process exactly, and resolves to never consult Matthew in such matters again. "I believe I understand what happened."

"Well, I'm glad someone does," Hob says with a quiet laugh. It's not as joyous as his laughs usually are. "Listen, Dream--if I did something wrong, if I was coming on too strong, tell me? I can back off. I don't want to drive you away. You mean a lot to me."

Dream...takes a second to process. Stares at Hob, a bit baffled and not entirely sure he heard that correctly, before asking, "...Coming on too strong?"

"I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable, or anything, only I was sure you felt...similarly. I'm sorry if I got that wrong."

He thinks back to their last interaction--the kindness of Hob's smile, the way he took Dream's hand in his, asking whether Dream wants to Come up to my flat, love? We can watch a movie, or I can make you dinner, whatever you feel like, and looks at it in a new light entirely. "You...Want more. Than friendship. From me."

It does not seem possible, not in any sense of the word. But, god, does Dream want it.

He laughs quietly, self deprecating, and tugs on his earlobe. It is an incredibly endearing action, that, and Dream adores him very much. "I didn't make it obvious enough?" he asks, then shakes his head. "Listen. I want--I want whatever you want. If that's just friendship, that's fine with me. But...yes. Yes, I would like...something more. With you."

The smile that breaks across his face is unbidden, but not necessarily unwelcome. He swallows down the nerves, the anxiety, and considers. If...If Hob wants more, too, if his own wants aren't monstrous, undesired...perhaps there will be no ruining their friendship. Perhaps he can take a chance, if only here.

He steps forward, takes Hob's hand in his. "I am not. Particularly great at this," he admits.

Hob raises a brow. "I might've noticed."

Dream glares at him. He doesn't really mean it. Its effect is significantly weakened by the smile that remains on his face. "But. I would like something more with you, too. If you would have me, still."

Eyes widening, Hob says, "Of course I would, Dream. Of course I would. Now that we're on the same page..." His hand tightens in Dream's. "Do you want to come upstairs? For a movie, or for dinner? For both? And to...talk, we should do that too."

He places a kiss, feather-soft and gentle, to Hob's cheek. "Yes. I think I would like that a lot."

Hob beams at him, and Dream thinks that this cannot be anything other than a good thing.

#the sandman #dreamling #dream of the endless #hob gadling #dreamling fic #the sandman fic #eris writes things #my fic #valentine's day prompts

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rogerswifesblog · 2 years ago

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Another request I'm sorry 😅

Steve Rogers always has the most generic phone background there is until one day he has the reader. His friends go nuts trying to find out who the reader is. Until one day Steve gets injured on a mission and demands that the reader is called before he goes into surgery. He wakes up to his girlfriend/ fiance/ wife (that's up to you) having the team wrapped around her finger already

Sorry it took me so long:( I hope you’ll like it<3

Btw never apologise for sending request or smth I love it

Behind the picture

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: The avengers couldn't figure out who Steve was seeing, the first time they meet you is when Steve’s badly injured.

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: Steve Rogers x Reader

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: Steve's injured, but mostly fluff

Keep in mind English is not my first language!

Don't forget to like, comment and reblog!

The avengers were currently on their way to a HYDRA basis. It was quite stressful, so Steve did, what he always did to calm himself down-he looked at the picture of your dog. He wished he could just look at a picture of the two of you, but he couldn't. Not with the team around.

Don't get him wrong, he loved his team. Deeply...but...the avengers could be a lot. Especially for a civilian like you. And especially with Tony. So he wanted to spare you all of this.

That's why he couldn't show you to them. Not even a picture-that's also why his phone background was a picture of your dog. Even Bucky didn't know about you-which he always felt awful about. Normally he'd tell Bucky everything, but he felt it was the right thing to do. His best friend only knew he was currently seeing someone, no more no less.

Steve could tell Natasha was looking at his phone, but he had nothing to hide. Well, he did, but she couldn't see anything on his phone that would really tell her anything about you. Just a cute picture of your dog-and maybe the corner of your lips, gently smiling at the camera.

"So,...you really have a dog, huh?", asked the redhead, slowly inching closer. Steve knew they were all curious-but nobody dared invading his privacy. Not after the last time they did that.

Steve chuckled, slowly putting his phone away. „Yes, I do, why do you ask? I already told you…a few times", he said, slightly raising his eyebrows. He could already tell what Natasha wanted to talk about-so he played dumb. Sighing Natasha punched his shoulder lightly. „Just a dog or also the owner of the dog?", grinning, she wiggled her eyebrow.

It was one of many times where someone of the team tried to ask him about...well, about you. Or, the person he was seeing. "Just a dog, Nat", he said, grabbing his shield. Within a few seconds his demander changed. "We're landing in five. Get ready."

You were currently sitting with your dog, Roger (yeah, it wasn't Steve's idea), on your bed, trying to take a nap. Steve was on a mission-and you hated it. It was the middle of the night. He was supposed to be back a few hours ago-but he didn't text you or come home for the matter. You could tell something was wrong. Even Roger was restless.

Did something happen to-

Your ringtone interrupted your train of thoughts, sitting up you grabbed your phone.

Steve

"Hi! God I was so-" "I'm so sorry, to tell you this, I'm doctor Cho, one of Steve's doctors-" You didn't hear what she was talking about. A piece of you broke right then. Steve was hurt. Otherwise he'd have called you himself. Was he dead? Or dying? You knew how risky his job was, but...it didn't change a thing. You couldn't loose your lover like that.

“-needs surgery, he doesn't want it, not unless you're here", you heard Dr Cho saying. With tears in your eyes you nodded, remembering then that she couldn't see you. "Yes, I...I'll be there in twenty minutes."

You gave Roger a gentle kiss on the head, feeling awful for leaving him behind-but you knew you couldn't take him with you. "I'll be back soon, sweetie." With Steve, you hoped.

It didn't took you long to arrive at the Avengers Tower. Happy, one of Starks Employees brought you to the medical rooms. You could feel your heartbeat racing, your breathing quickend with every second. Happy didn't talk to you much-but you could tell he was being quite on purpose. It's like he knew you needed the silence to calm yourself down.

Entering the room you watched the avengers sit next to Steve's bed-he was in pain. Bruised and bleeding. God. He looked awful. His face was swollen. But he was alive. "Steve", you sobbed, immediately walking closer to his bed. Whoever was in your way stepped aside, not wanting to keep two lovers apart. "You god damn idiot-the doctor said you don't want surgery? You have to-", rambling you grabbed Steve's hand, gently squeezing. He groaned, turning his head your way, but not opening his eyes. It only made more tears stream down your face.

"You...needed you...", he mumbled, squeezing your hand right back. He tried to pull you closer, but couldn't really use any more strength. Understanding his wishes you sat down on the edge of his bed, brushing away hair from his forehead. He was pale. Weak...he looked like a ghost. Another sob wanted to escape your throat, but you held it back. He didn't need any more stress.

"I'm here, baby. I'm right here. I'll always be here", you mumbled into his hair, kissing his forehead. "You need the surgery. We'll talk after", Steve's eyes fluttered, trying to open them, but not succeeding. You've never seen him in such bad shape.

What happened? What the hell happened? He was a super soldier! Normally he could walk off a broken arm. But now? He couldn't open his eyes.

"I might...not make it", his words made you sob, even though you tried to hold it back. He buried his face into your neck, breathing your sweet scent in. The perfume, he bought you for your last birthday. Having you here helped him. Steve felt at peace. With you he could...just stop fighting.

But you didn't want him to stop.

"Steve, please. I'll wait for you-and you'll come back. We still have so much to do-we haven't had our honeymoon", you chuckled wetly, pulling him closer against your breast. You knew he liked to cuddle against your chest-always saying you were soft and like a perfect cushion. Every time he said that, you just laughed and shook your head. God, you've never thought of missing this stupid joke.

He couldn't leave you like that. He had to get better.

Steve exhaled, burying his face against you. "I can't...don't want to be without you...." "Steve, please...", you sobbed, hugging him closer. At this point you didn't even think about the avengers sitting around you, probably listening. It didn't matter. Steve was the only one you were now thinking about. And he needed to go into surgery. "Please, don't leave us", you whispered into his golden hair, grabbing his hand and putting his palm against your flat stomach.

He was quite for a moment. Only a mumble, you couldn't really understand. "Steve, I think I'm-I think I’m pregnant-I wanted to wait-I haven’t made a test yet-but-I’m already three weeks late. You're gonna be a daddy. Steve", you whispered, holding back more tears, cupping his face In your hands and carefully lifting his head. His lips twitched to a small smile, while his eyes flickered one more time. He opened them, but only a bit. "'m a daddy?", you nodded immediately. "So go get that surgery and don't leave us alone, please. We need you", sobbing you pressed your lips to his. Steve could taste your salty tears on your soft lips. He wanted to pull you closer-touch you-but he was to weak. He couldn't feel he was slowly drifting away. Loosing consciousness.

After getting the serum he’d never felt this weak before. It’s like he was back in Brooklyn, only a teenager, beaten till he had to be taken to the hospital-it only happened once and it was the only time he really felt scared to die.

"After surgery...", was the last thing he said, not being able to finish the whole sentence. Someone grabbed you, pulling you away from Steve, while they wheeled him into surgery.

Sobbing you felt your whole world break down-if someone hadn't hugged you, you probably would've fallen to the floor. This couldn't be the last time you saw Steve? Right? It couldn't-the two of you-no-you had so many plans-you wanted- "it's okay...he'll be okay...", you heard someone whisper into your ear. The person hugging you pulled you even closer. You buried your face into his solid chest, sobbing.

Bucky gently rubbed your back. He hadn't met you before-but he once noticed a picture of you on Steve's phone, while he showed him a funny meme-he never ask steve who you were. He kind of knew. Steve once told him he met someone-this someone had to be you. He was glad Steve found love in this new and foreign times.

It took you a few minutes till you calmed down. There were still tears storming down your face, but you weren’t sobbing like before. Bucky sat down with you, while Natasha brought you a glass of water-Tony let JARVIS check your vitals discreetly-just to make sure you were okay.

“I wish we wouldn’t have met like this but-but it’s nice to meet you”, you mumbled after a while, wiping away the tears. Bucky chuckled quietly, squeezing your hand. You could tell he was also holding back tears. “It’s nice to meet you-Y/N, right?”, you nodded. “Yeah-I…I know your names. Steve already told me, and…well, you’re quite often on the news”, chuckling you brushed your hair back, sipping your water.

Nobody said anything for a moment, before Sam cleared his throat. It may be a stressful situation but he was still curious. “So, how…how did you two met?”, a little smile crept into your lips. “It’s pretty embarrassing-for me, at least. I adopted my dog that day-and we went to the park. It was a great day. A really great walk, we played a lot-and I may or may not have thrown a frisbee at Steve, so Roger jumped him and-yeah, pretty embarrassing. I’ve never been good in sports, I guess”, you chuckled, making the rest of the team also laugh. “Frisbees are just Steve’s thing.”

After a few minutes Tony was already telling you about how he suspected Steve was seeing someone- “He once send a picture and I could’ve swear I saw someone in the windows reflection-but he brushed me off when I asked who it was. And then he also had a different background every week-often someone with a dog-“ “yeah, that was me. He didn’t want to have pictures with my face-knowing you’d let Jarvis just find me”, you laughed quietly. Tony thought for a few seconds.

That’s probably really what he would’ve done.

Natasha sat down next to you. You felt yourself getting a bit nervous-Natasha was intimidating. “I can’t believe Steve didn’t say anything-I mean, he’s a really bad liar. It’s incredible how he just kept you a secret-you two are what-married?”

You felt your blood rush to your cheeks, making you blush, while you shook your head. “Well-yes-but no. Not really. We have the rings, but there was no ceremony. Not even my parents know-and none of Steve’s family-which means none of you. We-or more like Steve-didn’t know how and when to tell you about our relationship. He was, and probably still is, scared. I’m just a civilian. When the world finds out…” “you’d be in danger”, Bucky finished.

After two hours another doctor came, telling you about Steve’s condition-apparently the hard part of the surgery was done.

“Steve was shot?”, you gasped. Natasha nodded. “Yeah, three times. Our suits are bulletproof, but they used something different. Some other weapons…but he did it to save me”, a little smile crept over your face when Natasha said that. It didn’t surprise you that Steve wanted to save her. “I’m glad you’re okay”, you whispered.

Another few hours passed while you all talked. The sun was already rising-god you had to feed Roger soon. And he probably had to go on a wa- “what are you thinking about?”, asked Tony, looking up from his phone. Sighing you shook your head slowly. “Roger will wake up soon. I’ve to go back and take care of him-but I really don’t want to leave“, Tony shrugged and tipped something on his phone. “Give me your keys and Happy will feed Rogers-” “Roger-“ “Yeah, whatever”, you laughed quietly, tossing him the keys.

When doctor Cho came back, you could feel your heartbeat race. Would she bring you good news? What if something happened? What if- “He’ll need rest, but everything went smoothly. There were no complications. The serum in his blood helped his body a lot”, she started. It’s the last thing you registered, before letting out a weak sigh. He’d be fine. Steve was alive.

After guiding you to Steve’s room you sat down on the edge of his bed, grabbing his hand. You were incredibly tired-you hadn’t slept all night. Even if you had tried, you probably couldn’t have. Not without knowing how Steve’s health was-but you finally knew. You could rest. Suddenly you felt everything hit you all at once. The stress, tiredness and hours of crying.

“Lay down, I’ll wait here too”, said Bucky, gently pushing you onto the bed, till you laid down next to Steve. It was a tight fit, but you always liked snuggling with him. “Okay, Buck. You’re really nice”, you mumbled, closing your eyes. Within seconds you fell asleep.

Bucky looked at Steve and you for a moment, a big grin on his face. “You really think she threw that frisbee accidentally?”

Natasha laughed, shaking her head. “There no way she failed to see him”, the two ex-assassins laughed.

They hoped you’d spend more time with them from now on-you we’re really nice. And apparently you also had many, many stories about Steve…Natasha definitely wanted to know how Steve managed to break your wardrobe, apparently walking into it.

In his defence, it was really dark.

That’s it! I really hope you enjoyed it! Let me know<3

Don’t forget to like, comment and reblog!

Feedback?<3

Requests are open.

#steve rogers #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x female reader #steve rogers x y/n #steve rogers x you #steve rogers fandom #steve rogers fic #steve rogers fluff #request #requests #Steve Rogers request #chris evans character fanfiction #chris evans character x reader #chris evans characters #flood my inbox

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wwereaderinserts · 4 months ago

Note

Hi there- sending in a request! (thanks for answering my DM questions so I could make sure this was okay btw!)

Could I have something with Gunther and an AFAB!reader? I have this plot idea where they've known (or at least have known of) each other since before they were signed to WWE, but they never really spoke to one another before, but then reader gets signed to the main roster from NXT during the most recent draft and they slowly start to interact with each other more, until one day the romantic and sexual tension between them just reaches a boiling point and it goes into smut territory? Thank you so much! ❤️

You're very welcome, I appreciated you making sure and asking things beforehand too!! I know I've already said it like twice but I really do hope I've done this justice for you❤️

Title: Boiling Point Pairing: Gunther x AFAB!Reader Word Count: 2,024 Warnings: Smut, swears

You’ve not long made it back to your dressing room after your victory earlier tonight when a polite knock on the door postpones your post-match shower. You hesitate for a moment, your brain working overtime while you try to figure out who your visitor could possibly be.

I don’t see it being one of the other girls, you think to yourself, I’ve already seen them when I made it backsta-...oh.

You interrupt your own thought process while you’re in the midst of swinging your dressing room door open, realisation dawning on you a mere split second before you come face to face with the only other person you suspect will be standing right there with a friendly smile on his face to greet you.

Gunther.

When it fully registers that he’s standing right in front of you, waiting for you to say something, you’re quick enough to replace your look of fleeting surprise at his appearance with a soft smile. You try very best to play things cool with him exactly like you have been over the course of the past few months, but you know your attempt is falling flat on its face.

Though you’ve known of each other for a few years through other promotions and circuits, you’ve never actually gotten the chance to speak to each other properly until you both found your way to WWE. Ever since your very recent main roster callup, you’ve had more and more of a reason to speak to him in passing, and you two had clicked and grown acquainted rather quickly, much to both your respective surprises.

But as days, weeks, and months have gone by as you two have spoken to and gotten to know each other more, the tension in the air when you two are around each other has been palpable. The chemistry is undeniable, and you personally don’t think you can hide the fact that there’s definitely something brewing between you both, even if neither of you have made that leap for anything more than friendship quite yet.

“I’m not interrupting anything, am I?”

Gunther drags you out of your own thoughts, and you quickly shake your head and wave a dismissive hand at the very notion. In truth, you were just about to take a shower, but since he’s turned up with intent of clearly catching you privately, you’re willing to grant him the time of day.

“No, no! Not at all,” you reassure, lingering in the doorway, “Uh…is everything okay? I wasn’t expecting you to stop by is all-”

You pull yourself away from your doorway and make the decision to stand to one side, allowing him the space to step in if he wishes to. When he notices you’re silently giving him permission, Gunther steps in and nudges the door shut behind him before he turns to face you.

“Everything is fine. I wanted to speak with you about something, that’s all.” he looks you in the eye, “About us, actually. I think you already have some kind of idea on what that means, no?”

Gunther shoots you an expectant look, and you shift under his gaze. You feel a flush begin creeping its way up your neck at the implication. You’re almost certain you know exactly what he’s hinting at, but you’re reluctant to jump the gun in case you have it all wrong. Instead, you feign innocence, crossing your arms and softly shaking your head.

“No, I…I have no idea what you mean, actually-”

“Oh, I think you do. And it’s been building up for months now, hasn’t it? All that tension, the pent-up energy.” he interrupts you, chuckling softly before leaning in closer to you, “I think it’s about time we did something about it, don’t you?”

You swallow thickly at his words, your eyes meeting his while he stands before you. He doesn’t move another inch, studying you to gauge whether you’ll take the initiative and make the first move.

When you show no signs of retreating, Gunther takes it upon himself to make the move, pulling you in for a hungry kiss. Passion begins to bleed through in the kiss, your mouths crashing together in a fusion of lust and unspoken desire which now ultimately comes to a head.

“Think it goes without saying,” you pull back from the kiss for a moment, breathless, “I agree, it’s about damn time-”

Gunther responds with another searing kiss, backing you into the surface of your dressing room door with a soft thud. You grope at each other’s bodies in what borders on desperation, your fingers tugging up the hem of his shirt while he toys with your gear as he determines exactly how to get you out of it.

Withdrawing for only a moment to tug his shirt over his head, Gunther delves back in once you’ve roughly unlaced the top half of your gear and slipped right out of it to save him the grief of figuring it out, as well as speeding things along a bit.

“Eager, are we?”

Gunther taunts you with a smirk, and you mirror his expression while playfully rolling your eyes at him. With newfound confidence, you hook your fingers in the belt loops of his jeans and tug him towards you, and you don’t miss the fleeting flicker of surprise replacing his smirk for a split second.

“Oh, very,” you concur, slipping a hand between you both to palm his hardening cock through his jeans, “That’s not a problem, is it?”

You lower your voice to a purr, a triumphant grin on your face when you earn a soft grunt from him over the gesture. Gunther shakes his head and pulls his lower lip between his teeth, letting his eyes flutter shut at the contact as your movements grow firmer.

“Didn’t think so.”

You take that as your answer, but you leave him hanging after a moment while you slip away from your place between him and your dressing room door to pace your way over to the couch in the corner of the dressing room instead.

Gunther’s eyes snap open when you put everything on pause and leave him standing there, and he whirls around to face you. He’s about to call you a tease, but he stops himself when he sees you perched on the arm of the couch, unlacing your boots as fast as your deft fingers will allow you to. You manage to loosen one boot up enough to forcefully pull it off, and before you can take on the task of removing the other yourself, you gain a pair of eager, helping hands.

“Here,” Gunther kneels down before you and aids you in unlacing your boot, “I don’t think I can wait much longer to have you.”

Hungry eyes flick upwards to meet yours, and what feels like within mere seconds, he’s loosened it off enough to pull it down and haphazardly toss it to one side. He nudges you onto the seat of the couch, hands resting on the back of the couch to box you in while he dives back in to capture your lips in a passionate kiss.

You groan softly into the kiss, sinking back into the couch cushions while you part your legs for him, wrapping them around his waist to draw him in closer. Gunther takes the hint, shuffling closer and sinking his knees into the edge of the couch as he brings himself closer to you, and he grinds into you, the layers of clothing being the only thing separating you both from what you truly desire.

“Fuck, just do it already,” you breathe out, untangling your legs from around his waist to shift your hips upward, “Put us both out of our misery.”

You fight to tug your shorts and underwear down, flicking them off to one side when they reach your ankles to leave yourself bare, exposing your slick folds to him in an offer he most definitely won’t be refusing.

Gunther stands back up to his full height while he fumbles with his belt, yanking the leather through his belt loops before he unfastens his jeans and lets them drop down to his ankles with a clunk. His boxers follow suit a few seconds later, slipping down his thighs and freeing his cock, now standing at full attention.

Not wasting another second, Gunther closes the distance between you both, rubbing the head of his cock along your folds before he lines himself up with your entrance, intentionally catching your clit once or twice in the process while you bend your legs and raise your thighs up to meet your shoulders.

You gasp, quickly being muffled by him slamming his lips against yours when he slowly slips his way inside you with a low groan. He barely gives you time to adjust to the size of him before he snaps his hips forward, burying himself hilt-deep inside you and eliciting a soft moan out of you.

“What, like that?”

Gunther chuckles lowly, already knowing the answer. You’re boxed in beneath him, practically folded in half as he sets a punishing rhythm, your nails sinking into his shoulders and your pleas for more from him only aiding in spurring him on further.

He angles his hips slightly, and it’s just enough to repeatedly hit that spot inside you that makes you see stars and has your toes curling. You involuntarily clench around him, your walls fluttering around his girth as your moans increase in pitch and frequency as a result of the now brutal pace he’s set.

“Just like that, holy shit-”

You whine, and Gunther leans forward to steal your lips in a bruising kiss, greedily swallowing every moan and whimper of yours that follows. His tongue invades your mouth, dancing dominantly with yours as he continues to slam into you without abandon.

Gunther grunts with exertion, feeling himself beginning to gradually lose control. His thrusts become erratic, his movement jerky as he chases his high. When you purposefully clench around him this time, you draw a moan out of him that makes your stomach flip.

“You look so beautiful like this…under me,” he pants, his forehead pressed against yours, “Taking me so well, you feel incredible…better than I could’ve imagined, shit…”

The praise earns a whimper from you, and your eyes roll back in ecstasy when you slip a hand between you both to rub small, swift circles on your clit in a desperate attempt to send yourself over the edge.

Gunther increases his speed, his hips now relentlessly snapping forward as he chases release. With a final thrust, he buries himself to the hilt and spills himself deep within you without so much as a pre-warning, his moans of ecstasy muffled when he buries his face in the crook of your neck.

“Fuck, I’m so close!” you cry out, your ministrations increasing, “So close, fuck-”

You cut yourself off with a sharp whine, your walls fluttering and convulsing around his cock, squeezing him deliciously as you finally hit your peak. Your legs quiver and you screw your eyes shut while you ride out your orgasm, your jaw hanging slack as pleasure completely overwhelms you.

Gunther collapses atop you, careful not to rest too heavily against you. His chest heaves, and he remains still inside you while he peppers your jawline with kisses before his lips find yours once more.

“That…that was…” he pauses if only to find the best words to describe your encounter before he settles on, “Like nothing else I’ve ever felt.”

You chuckle breathlessly with a nod, quietly groaning at the feeling of being empty when he finally pulls out of you. Eventually, he rolls off to the side, sitting beside you on the sofa to separate you both and allow you the space to stretch your still-quivering legs out.

“Mhm, you could say that again,” you agree with him, turning your head to the side to shoot him a knowing glance as the pair of you are savouring the blissful afterglow, “And something’s telling me it won’t be the first and last time this happens, either...”

#eboni-napalm #gunther x reader #wwe fic #wwe imagine #wwe oneshot #guntherxreader

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bts5sosempire · 2 years ago

Text

the tyrant (v)

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: sukuna ryomen x reader

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬: 4,150

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭: old time period, mention of arranged marriage, polygamous marriages, slow-burn yandere, power imbalances, peer pressure, gaslighting, mention of manipulation, dark content, slight-NSFW (tw: non-con), MDI, Dickuna, please read at your own discretion

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: "you were the apple of Sukuna's eyes, the one who brought him solace and everything. The only thing you were incapable of was giving him a child, an heir he wished to spoil like he did to you."

𝐚/𝐧: holy crap, I've been bugging and got writer's block from this for the longest time. But it is done at last; been trying to angle where I should go from here. Since I barely wrote any nsfw or anything remotely related to that, I hope this doesn't get flagged cuz I would deadass scream. Btw, thank you to those that waited for so long when I went into my MIA mode 🥲❤️. Likes, comments, and reblogs are helpful too, and have a nice day lovelies! 🥳 (pls lemme know in the "comment" section below for tagging.)

𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

After the incident, you told Sukuna that he wouldn't stifle you. As for Suguru's situation, you couldn't make an explicit assumption; for all you know, it was a warning to you both. Suguru is your faraway dream, and you were his too. Another part you know is that killing Suguru would be like child's play, but it wouldn't look good on Sukuna unless he starts undermining Suguru with hidden intentions. You don't wish for Suguru to be harmed in any way; even the thought of it sends your heart lurching in heartache.

You shift under your seat as the cold air bites your face. It was early in the morning when Sukuna had taken you out for a morning hunt. Everything was set up the previous day before. Sukuna had even invited a handful of Lords to hunt with him, to form connections. He also thought it would be good for you as you have locked yourself away in your room for days after the banquet; he thinks it's childish whenever you would do that to avoid his confronting nature. You could care less about what he feels at this point.

Fiddling with your bangle inside the muff, you twist and turn the familiar jeweled gift. Then there's your Aunt; the pressure from her was also getting to you. Selfish is the best word to describe her; a bitter feeling of resentment starts to form within your chest as you have come to accept the view you have of her. Your Aunt Setsuko and Sukuna aren't that much of a discrepancy; both set out to use people as they see fit in their agenda.

Your attention was brought back when the sound of horses' hooves and men urging their steed to go faster descended from the hills. A jackal was running rapidly, with hounds chasing after their tail. An arrow whizz past and almost hits the animal as it sidesteps to the side to avoid it. Sukuna was leading, riding the red steed that dashes across the dewy and chilly plain. Sukuna raises the bow with steady arms and hands, his uncanny eyes trained on the animal before releasing the string. The arrow hits the jackal as it staggers forward, rolling a few times against the ground as the hounds pounce to keep it dead and still.

Everyone congratulates Sukuna for being keen eyes as they all slow their horses down to an ambling pace. Servants quickly swept the hounds aside and picked up the now-dead animal, and hurried off to deal with it. Sukuna basked in the attention he was given, accepting them before brushing off the other minor and major lords. He pulls the rein of the horse in your tent's direction.

Rising from your seat, two maids appeared to assist you by holding your forearms as you carefully stepped off the heated coal pots placed underneath your feet to keep them warm. Seiin, the firey steed notice you and picks up its speed to hurry on over. The horse was a gift for your congratulatory wedding from your clan. Seiin was only one of the few red steeds born and raised on your farm; considering it's a scarce breed, Seiin was above average from a normal war horse. They were a total upgrade. It could outpace any horse for hours, and its stamina was limitless since it brought Sukuna's never-ending winning of conquering lands and people alike. You almost forgot that each clan member ran a different course for bribery. Your father used to run a ranch for breeding war horses (now it falls to you). Once your wedding with Sukuna happened, your Aunt deliberately solidified the pact and decided to trade the horses for power without consulting with you first.

When Seiin was near enough, Sukuna hopped off the horse. Seiin snorted as it impatiently wanted you to pet its snout and brush its dark red hair. You pull out a hand from the muff and caress a pointer to the length of Seiin's nose; they nuzzle their face closer. The equine sure is spoiled. You don't remember them being this double in size and height.

"Took a long time to get this steed to obey me," Sukuna starts, and you only pay attention to him for a fraction with your eyes before flicking them away to the horse again. The story of how Sukuna gets Seiin was funny; it almost made you think that the War Demon couldn't tame a beast. Seiin was probably secretly a mule in disguise; they hated any rider or person who attempted to claim them; they're more familiar with you out of everyone. When Seiin was presented to Sukuna, it was on sight for the horse to run him over and stomp its hooves on the ground to scare off Sukuna. It was futile since Sukuna was a person who loved challenges, and Seiin happened to present them to him.

All it took was a lot of being tied to the pole, brushed, fed, and given lots of freedom to stretch its legs daily, which spoiled the horse. Then it got its owner's temper, too; Seiin was Sukuna's pride.

"You have been in your room for a few weeks; what's so crucial that you have forbidden me? Is Suguru that important?" You slightly glare, "Also, that brat took longer to leave than usual." You could tell that Sukuna was trying to get a rise out of you, a bait for you to take. If you have taken it, it will bring endless hours to get him off your back. He moves fast with assumptions, and it's scarily accurate, too, with how he gathered information.

Turning away from Sukuna, you pat Seiin a few times, then return to your tent.

The reason why you have spent more time in your room is for a reason; you can't rely on anyone anymore. Not your Aunt Setsuko, who seems ready to abandon you if your final strike occurs, and you have to admit, the advantage of having Sukuna's affection starts to wear you thin. The harem is relentless in trying to remove you, and if that happens, then you're easily disposable. But they couldn't do that. It was known multiple times if you were gone, then the deal with both families would fall through, and trade would also cease to exist.

"Are you sure this is a good idea?" Yumi asks warily as you settle on wearing a man's clothes. You use the excuse of doing your charity work to go out for something you've been planning to do.

"If I don't do it now, when will I ever will? I didn't use all that time in my room reading and teaching me about politics and finances." Telling Yumi she couldn't argue back, not when concern always seems to paint her face these days. "Stall as long as you can," you order, adjusting the male hakama; you try to give off the air and posture of a man. "I'll try to be back before sundown."

Sliding the door open, Yuichi was outside; arms crossed as he awaited you.

You nudge with your head for him to follow you. When you both were outside the small rented compound you use for charity work, Yuichi cast you aside glance, "You told me to scout the area and ask for any willing participants if they're going to give up their property to you, and I found a few."

"You work fast," you inquire with a small smile, and Yuichi huffs his chest, proud of his work. "No spear today?" Yuichi never goes anywhere without his weapon, and today is a rare day.

"No need to for today, and I wanted to ask why you need an inn out of all places." The young man scratches his head behind you, "I mean, with your wealth and power, you could easily build or buy a better one."

You chuckle a bit, "My father used to tell me something interesting when I was a child, and today, I decided to put it to the test," looking at Yuichi, who peers down at you with curious eyes. "Are you familiar with how business people work?" Yuichi turned away, even more confused, as he wasn't well-versed or educated in an area that wasn't his expertise. "You know how when a robber or criminal is going to rob you, they always announce it and hold a weapon against you?" The man nodded, "But when it comes to business people, they'll steal it right before you without saying many things, even if you do or don't realize."

Yuichi: "So you're saying you're going to steal?"

You: "Do you consider being persuasive with words stealing?"

Yuichi: "I mean, it is under the pretense, so kind of, I guess?"

You laugh, "I'm going to make them give it to me; if not, I can always gamble it."

Yuichi did a double take, "You're scary when you want to be." The man didn't expect this from you, but he felt you change a little. Yuichi often spends time with you helping those who are in need, and seeing you taking charge of something for real is uncalled.

The both of you walk a bit further until you've reached a run-down inn. Seeing the worn-out sign of the inn's name hanging up at the entrance tells you how long it was in business. Stepping inside the inn, you could see the wooden beams and pillars were also worn out. There were chips here and there, and even the tables and chairs were old.

"Hello? Anyone?" Yuichi calls out into the empty room before someone emerges from the back. You assume it was the owner. They're in their mid-fifties when you could spot specks of grey in their dark hair and fine lines marring their tan face. The owner's eyes speak of years of hardship in this world. "You remember when I said I would bring a friend, right?"

"Go away; the place is not for sale." The owner motioned his arms to shoo you and Yuichi away.

"Business is not good, I'm assuming?" You question the owner while your eyes still trace around and find no soul or customer in the room.

"It is doing good, just that you're in the way." The owner bites back. He grabs a nearby broom and kicks your foot out of the way with it, and sweeps the front and entrance.

Yuichi leans over to you and whispers in your ear while his eyes linger on the old man, "How about we just go look at the other ones?"

Clicking your tongue, you brush him off, "Sir," you turn around to meet the older man with a smile and try to present an air of friendliness. "How about a game?" You're just going straight for the jugular at this point; no need to play coy, yet, with a stubborn man.

"Game? I don't have time for that," refusing you, you held your smile.

"Well, if you win, I won't bother you again, and it would be a shame if this place were to shut down. I could tell a lot of history and time were poured into this place. Not many know how to run an inn, let alone for more than several generations." Your words seem to catch their ears as you swipe a finger across a table, seeing grey coating your fingertip. "Also heard that if you fail to pay this month's rent, you'll be evicted." Innocently smiling, you could see the older man fuming, "Competition is sure rough around these parts, isn't it?"

Old man: "Who are you?"

You: "A buyer. A renter, of course."

"You know a lot more than you let on," The man-trained eyes pierced your own; he couldn't read your orbs. "Then I'll entertain you as long as you're out of my hair."

Conversing with the man, you and he repeatedly placed the black-and-white pieces of smooth small stones on the board until it was nearly filled. Yuichi, who was watching from the side with his eyes zoning onto the Go board, then it flicked back and forth in between you and the older man.

"Ah! I give up! Name your price," the owner fickled out and grabbed a nearby heated pot, and poured himself a drink. He was trying to calm that irregular heart of his that could lead to a potential heart attack.

You trace the board and see how the majority of your white pieces were constantly surrounding and consuming his black pieces. The man was already defeated ten different times, but you just prolonged it. You must thank Sukuna for teaching you (not like you're ever going to) if he wasn't pestering you when he had nothing else to do. The game Go was introduced to Sukuna by the Chinese who came to do trading, and Sukuna, who has a penchant for mind-stimulating things, didn't hesitate to take it. The man didn't regret it; if not, he put all his war tactics and strategies onto that board when playing against the Chinese traders and conquering them as if it was a real battle.

"I won't directly buy the place; if renting would suffice you. You would still be the owner, but co-owner, at least." The man was about to speak up, but you raised a hand, saying you're not done. "I'm looking into putting interest and investing," standing up from your seat, you examine many things in the room. "But to do that, we need to start working from the bottom and up. We are not going to get rid of everything, but we could still keep the rustic feeling this place have. This place needs major improvement."

After going over things with them, you could tell that they were much more relaxed, not by a lot, although.

"I won't always be able to come and check up on this place; I'll be sending-" patting Yuichi's chest with a few hits; he didn't expect that, "-this guy in my stead along with a letter of instructions of how to keep this place afloat. I'll also desire a report from you too, sir."

"Taiju. Taiju Mori." Finally introduced himself, and you nodded in acknowledgment.

"As your employer, Seijuro Hajime, it's nice meeting you," telling him your alias, you headed off with Yuichi.

Once you're at a distance, Yuichi stops in front of you. "Now I'm your messenger?" He asks in disbelief when pointing at himself, as he can't believe all the roles you're giving him. "You know I am-"

Cutting Yuichi off, you told him, "You're being paid for your hard work with free lodging at the inn, also with the all-you-can-eat-and-drink too."

Yuichi: "Sold."

You laugh, and that shuts him up quickly. Before you can enjoy your outing more, the shadow becomes longer and darker, with the night coming faster along the chilly winds. The burnt orange sky is cast above the horizon with the setting sun. Patrol guards were roaming out in the streets now to switch their routines. "We have to hurry back." Around this time is when Sukuna usually sends guards from the castle to escort you back home too.

Sukuna has just come back from one of his concubine's rooms. For they have just successfully given birth to his child, he was there to name them. Roaming the hall, he noticed that your quarter was quiet when he came across, "Has Lady (Name) not home yet?" The surrounding servants and guards shook their heads rapidly, indicating a 'no' as they were afraid to look him in the eyes.

It wasn't until you came into view the retainers finally let out a sigh of relief. "My Lady!" They shout in unison, one after another. You try not to let your discomfort and hostility show when you spot Sukuna, and the man notices how your eyes seem to harden. He smiles at that.

"You came back later than usual (Name)," Sukuna then waved a hand, "you all are dismissed; I wish to be alone with my wife." All the servants nodded once and single-file out of your quarter to idle on another job or chore, waiting for them. Yumi was the last one to leave. "I've missed you ever since you left me this morning at the hunting ground," he proclaimed, taking long strides to reach you, and you steel yourself when Sukuna suddenly wrapped his arms around you. "Be a dear and entertain me tonight, would you?"

Ripping yourself from his hold, your eyes quiver with rage. "I'm not your womb breeder nor your cunt warmer," sneering at him, Sukuna let out a breathy laugh.

"I thought you had lost your fire for a moment," he moves a hand to caress your face you slap it away harshly.

You: "Don't touch me."

Sukuna's displeasure was partially showing, and before you could react any further, he held both sides of your face, "I've been very patient with you." Rapid as lightning, he brought his lips onto yours, and your eyes widened in surprise. You are tugging and trying to pull yourself away from him, but he grips your face even tighter than before. The taste of lingering sweet and bitter alcohol from Sukuna's tongue attaches to your tongue too. Both yours and his feet were awkwardly dancing around to find proper footing as you swerved and hit a wall. Sukuna takes the leisure of your gasping moment, the need for air to implore more of your cavern as he trails one hand down your face, then it once again snakes around your waist.

Pulling you close as possible, he grips the obi sash. "I'm not going to take a no from you," he spoke in between the kisses, and he hoisted you by the waist and quickly took you to your room with you protesting and screaming obscenities at him.

Your people rounded the corner, popping their heads to see just in time for the outer layer of Sukuna's hakama floating through the air before it was cut off by your door slamming shut and echoing in the hallways. They had never seen Sukuna act like this before; for all they knew, it was always being sweet towards you, but seeing how rambunctious their master was made everyone's mouths open in disbelief.

Meanwhile...

Around the same time, it was time for the evening lunch for everyone. With your and Sukuna's empty seat, Eisha asks a nearby manservant, "Where is the Lord and Lady (Name)?"

The manservant was hesitant to say anything as they opened their mouth a few times before uttering a sentence. "T-The Lord and Lady (Name) won't be dining tonight." Eisha raised her brow, and the man inch closer until he was whispering to her what was going on, and Eisha balled her fists. Fits of jealousy and anger slowly drown her. Masking her face with a look of understanding, she dismisses him, and they quickly wait on the sideline.

"Everyone, it seems like we will be dining without Lord Sukuna and Lady (Name)." A murmur of slight groans and agitation filled the air. Eisha picked up her pair of chopsticks, and the rest followed suit.

Back to you...after a few hours

Sukuna pinned you beneath him; his callous hand had both your wrists bound above your head while one tightly gripped your sweltering hip. Your face was flushed, and your chest was heaving out of breath, but you were stubborn in not making any noises. Sukuna, although successfully tearing one or two or more out of you. You were quick to shut up by biting your lips until you felt they were bleeding.

Sweat trickled down his body and dropped onto yours as he felt another one coming close, and so did yours; Sukuna lost track of time when the sun disappeared, and the full moon rose high in the night sky.

Rutting into you like you both were the only ones in the world, Sukuna tried to prolong the upcoming orgasm as long as possible, but it was inevitable. The fire in your belly was about to erupt again, and you knew. Trying to squirm away, Sukuna grunts out for you to stay still as he tries to chase after his high and make yours come along with his when he starts to pace himself faster.

You hate it when he keeps brushing your sensitive spot, abusing it to no end, and your sanity waning each time. So you turn your head to the side to hide. He already attained it with his fingers to prepare you, and now he is plowing you like an open field in different ways.

Sukuna suddenly stutters his hip forward to meet yours, and you yelp when your thighs tense up and enclose his well-defined waistline. He lets out a throaty and breathy groan when finally filling you up again with your walls gripping his shaft.

Letting go of your wrists, Sukuna stilled for a moment before getting off you and seeing how soiled the futon was from the love-making. You had your eyes close; brows pinched together. Whether it was from trying to regain yourself or you being angry for letting this happen, Sukuna saw how your emotions were all over the place—the aftermath of all.

He combed a hand through his slick, drenched hair; the scent of two body that was once conjoined still permeates through the atmosphere. "Grab me and Lady (Name) some refreshments," Sukuna demands, many feet shifting outside the screen door; after a rendezvous, he feels an appetite for his pipe too.

"Get out," you speak up, voice rather tired.

"Not until you're properly taken care of," Sukuna threw your nagujaban on top of you before grabbing and wearing his own.

"My Lord," a muffled voice was heard outside, and Sukuna went to slide the door a fraction. He grabs the refreshments and uses his frame to block out any onlookers before closing the door with a snap shut.

You viciously avoided Sukuna to prevent yourself from doing something stupid like wringing his neck or poisoning his food. To keep yourself busy, you had often gone out more and kept tabs on the inn as it made progress on attracting more customers and former locals.

You were thinking about improving the inn more until an ingratiating voice appeared behind you.

"Ah, I thought it was Concubine Sei, but it's only you, Lady (Name)," you turn around to meet the lavender eyes of Concubine Sena, who is holding a newborn in her arms with a sardonic grin. She hushes the squirming child and pats its bottom. "Don't know why Lord Sukuna kept you around when you can't produce him an heir. I'm starting to think that you're a barren woman."

You only chide with a side smirk. Out of all the concubines who would talk back to you is Concubine Sena. "I'm glad you finally developed awareness or critical thinking; tell me something I don't know." That wipe off the smirk from his face quickly. "I was almost worried for a second if you're going to be like me, childless too, but fate had decided to bestow you a second child."

Sena: "What are you inquiring about? Are you cursing my child? Lord Sukuna would hear from me about you cursing my son!"

Sniggering at her with a laugh, you brought up a hand to hide the laughter before continuing, "I wasn't going to stoop this low, but I'll say it since I'm feeling petty and far from my acting like a (Surname) clanswoman," taking a step closer to her until she feels threatened, Sena held her son tightly and close to her chest. "Hope that your child here lives passed three moons, unlike your first one, don't want history to repeat itself since your Hanamiya women are reputable for bad luck."

"How dare you!" Sena seeth out, "Servants! Held down this woman and slapped her foul mouth!" A few made advances, but you cut it short.

"Touch me and see what happens when Lord Sukuna finds out." They all stumble in their steps and refuse to take another out of fear, "I may not share the same affections he has for me, but I am very much favor unlike you." Then your face changes instantly, cold and calculating. "How long have you been wanting him but still haven't got it? We both arrived and married Sukuna at the same time at the tender age of eighteen, and his eyes are always on me." Feigning a sad expression, you place a hand on your chest, depicting a wound over your heart. "How sad you'll always come second to me."

Sometimes you don't like using Sukuna's name aimlessly like this, but it's worth it to make them or anyone like Sena back off.

After all, you have elsewhere to be and time better spent on.

••••

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