#even if the guard weren’t very happy with him working all night instead of sleeping

[jetii-mando]

Hi, not abandoning this! School has just been kicking my butt lately, but hopefully with summer coming soon I’ll finally be able to actually sit down and do more than just day dream of this AU.

Anyway, here is some more wholesome Fox and Anakin content :D

[Transcript of what is written (cuz my handwriting might not be the easiest to read): *Fox, wondering how in the world his work is already done*, *Anakin, who worked all night cuz he wanted to spend a day with Fox*]

[lightlycareless]

First, it hurts— Chapter XXIII [part 2]

(Part 1)

Naoya Zen’in x Fem!Reader

While arranged marriages are not uncommon in the jujutsu community, it was strange to receive a proposal from none other than the Zen’in’s, nonetheless your clan accepted and before you knew it, you were married off to Naoya.

Your new purpose was clear: to serve and submit, to be seen and not heard. To forget any sense of individuality in favor of obeying your husband.

Will this marriage ever flourish into something else? Will it change…for better or for worse?

Chapter warnings: fluff, a bit of yelling, slight mention of adultery, implications of sexual favors. And I think that's about it. It's pretty chill I guess lol

A/N: Heya once more! Due to Tumblrs limitations on blocks, I'll be posting longer chapters into two! or three, how many as needed. The link to the previous chapter will be on the top! :) Thank you for your understanding!

Also, if you want to read the whole thing in one post, ao3 is the way to go ❤

Now, without any further ado, happy reading! 🥰

Masterlist ➸ Chapter 24

Ao3 link.

Noting that your courteous thank you wasn’t enough to show how grateful you were of Junko’s actions, you’ve decided to do something for her, as a token of your appreciation.

However, the woman would always deny your advances, whether they be making breakfast for her and her daughters, so she could start the morning with ease, or even taking her duties so she could relax for the rest of the day. All attempts that Junko would immediately shut down, for she believed you were trying to bribe her.

Ah, always the defensive one.

Well, you’d soon come to the realization that continuously pushing your luck would do you or the twins no good, so instead, decided to let it rest for the moment, that is, until Junko finally finds it in herself to lower her guard.

Then , you’d be able to attack once more.

And that moment seemed to be today.

You don’t know how you did it, but you did it anyway. You actually managed to wake up way earlier than your staff, and Junko subsequently.

Making haste to start your day, you fetched a kimono from the nearby closet—a dark gray kimono with a beige obi; the usual palette that remained on theme with the rest of your attires.

Once ready, you silently make your way to the kitchen. 

Just because you were awake, didn’t mean the others were as well. And if you had to bring it up… well, you had more than enough unsavory encounters with the staff to wish to remain undetected.

Luckily, there weren’t many people awake during this early hour, aside from those assigned to work the graveyard shift, who honestly… couldn’t really care less about you—not when they were hoping that their shift would end soon (for it was the most uneventful one to work in) and get some well deserved rest.

As you continued your way to the kitchen, you wondered how Junko managed to wake up this early every single day—after all, it often seemed that she went to sleep pretty late at night, presumably after her daughters and husband were in bed first and she’d prepared what she could for tomorrow, and only then, she’ll be able to rest as well.

Naoaki seemed to be the same kind of person—waking up early to try and make the most of the day. Although that seemed to not be the norm for him, only doing so more recently because he had a family issue to resolve with the government, and government institutes were famed to be heavily frequented, even from very early hours. Thus, it made sense why he’d have to leave the estate at dawn, just to ensure that he’ll be assisted.

Well, if there was one thing you had to be grateful of your current arrangement, was that you weren’t demanded to wake up early. Any other day, you’d still be sleeping underneath your warm covers at this hour—something you were sure was about to change as soon as Naoya returned home. 

The notion of serving him is enough to make you sharply exhale out of frustration—you haven’t even done anything and you were already irritated by it, just the power Naoya held over you.

However, those heinous thoughts vanish as quickly as they arrive once you’re standing before the kitchen entrance, finally returning you to Junko and the breakfast you were to prepare for her.

You slide the doors open, and just as you’ve experienced in the past, prepare yourself to be received by the frigid eyes of the workers inside.

Knowing well how to drive yourself in these kind of situations, you take a deep breath and walk across the room (not bothering to greet good mornings, for they often went unanswered) and onto your regular working space, doing as much as you could to avoid glancing at them or coming in between their path. They remained relatively silent, an unusual thing to happen whenever present, but you decided not to comment on it any further.

Getting down to business, you begin to envision the meal Junko would usually prepare for herself: rice, fruits, a few vegetables and most importantly, no fish , for you eventually discovered that her dislike wasn’t because of her personal choice, but rather, because her family were vegetarians.

Once the picture becomes clear in your mind's eye, you decide to start by reaching out for the appropriate cooking supplies.

You’d look into the nearest cabinet, intending to find a pan. When your search proved fruitless, you’d move onto another cupboard, and another, and another, until you eventually realized it was shockingly nowhere to be found.

Its absence makes you wonder if anyone else was using it and forgot to return to its rightful place, a conclusion that makes you tense with anxiety at the prospect of having to interact with the apathetic staff around you.

Well, if that were to be the case, then you’d have to improvise. Maybe if you could get your hands on a pot, you’ll be—

“Lady Y/N” A voice calls from behind. You blink slowly, trying to decipher if you’d actually heard someone call you or it it was a fragment of your imagination “Lady Y/N”

It was not . Hesitantly, you begin to turn around to face the one behind the call. 

It’s a cook, one that you faintly recognize as usually working in the morning shift. She seems… nervous, uncertain even, almost as if she were too afraid to speak to you. 

«Because of me?» you wonder as the woman continues fidgeting with her fingers 

“Are you… looking for something?”

“A pan” you answer, uncertain where this conversation could go from here.

“Oh, it’s here” She says, walking over to an overlooked cabinet, pulling the doors open and getting the pan out of its storage. “The other one broke and we had to get a new one… I hope it’s good enough”

“...Yeah” you say, squinting your eyes as you take the item from her hands “Thank you…?” 

“If you need anything else, just tell me” she says with a nod before retreating to her previous position.

And that wasn’t even the strangest thing yet. 

When you started cooking, the servants would occasionally slide to you the ingredients they assumed you would be needing next. Sometimes they were right, sometimes they were not. However, that wasn’t what bothered you. 

The thing that made you feel uneasy was this following question:

Why, out of nowhere, they’ve decided to be helpful towards you?

Well… you only had to look back a few days to understand their reasonings.

After you essentially stood up for someone of their ranks, the servants were left to discover a new side of you, one they never thought you’d be able to harbor, due to being influenced by the preconceived notions of their masters. 

While many of the masters, wives included, often sided to simply follow the tyrannical order of Meiko’s rules, you decided to break the mold and put a stop to her actions. Even going as far as taking on the punishment that pertained to the perpetrator in question, showing them that titles were, well, just that. Titles .

Seeing this kind of uprising coming from someone they considered to be a detached superior quickly humbled them, presenting them a whole new point of view to ruminate on. 

And although there were still a few servants that weren’t amused by your actions, thinking that you were stepping out of line, there were few others that were starting to… come to terms with their assumptions of you, and wanted to compensate for their past actions.

Such as what they did today.

However, this was an explanation that you wouldn’t be able to know about, at least not for the moment. Ignorant to the cause, and not wanting to get distracted by them out of the necessary, you decide to continue doing your thing.

Now that you were done, and the servants had given you a few unexpected compliments here and there regarding it’s consistency, smell, and even presentation , all that was left for you to do is prepare to set the table—chopsticks, napkins, and a few cups alongside the tea you managed to do whilst preparing the food—and wait for their arrival.

You hoped that your anticipation would disappear once Junko and her daughters arrived at the dining table, and it did. But only to be replaced by fear of their disappointment, after all, it was the first time Mai and Maki would get to taste your food, and children were known to be very blunt when it came to voicing their opinions. 

An emotion that only heightened upon seeing Junko’s eyes land on your work, seemingly evaluating your effort with a squint of her own.

But if you were to read her mind, you would’ve known that far from judging your efforts, she thought that the food laid before her pertained to an upcoming meeting she had the misfortune of forgetting! 

A small slip up that sparked her into action by ordering her daughters to wait in the adjacent room as they walked towards the kitchen, requesting you to help her finish the rightful preparations as soon as possible.

Something that she would’ve continued to do, that is, until you stepped in.

“It’s fine, Junko-san” you reassure her, following her around the kitchen “There’s nothing to worry about”

“What do you mean? Surely all this food is for something important”

“Yes” you nod “For you”

“Then why are you standing around? Get yourself together and—wait. What ?” Junko freezes.

“I said, it’s for you” you repeat with a smile. “Come, let’s get you to the table”

“What’s the meaning of this?” She wastes no second to start interrogating you, much to your amusement, as she follows you to the dinning hall.

“I… wanted to do something for you, as to show my gratitude for allowing me to be friends with your daughters” You start to explain “I know you didn’t want me to do anything, but I really thought it necessary. I hope I did everything to your liking, we haven't really spoken about the food we like so please don’t be too harsh on me” you chuckle nervously.

Junko stands there as she’s effectively rendered speechless.

For the first time in her life, she doesn’t know what to say.

She… she doesn’t remember the last time she was ever appreciated for the things she’s done for the house. Outside of her daughters, of course. But outside of that… no one. 

Besides, she was indoctrinated from the very moment she was born to never expect gratitude for completing what was her job, thus, she grew up to believe that she hasn’t done anything outstanding to receive such treatment.

But then, you came along, and everything around her started to change. 

You acted in such a way that it was impossible for her to ignore; but… she has to admit that it wasn’t entirely bad. Different from the people that surrounded her, of course, putting so much attention to the smallest, unnecessary details…

But it's the reason that pushed you to think it was necessary to thank her. 

Well, in some way, she did expect you to do something like that, since Junko thinks that she’s doing you a favor, however, what she thought (which pertained to you getting down on your knees and beg ), to what happened…

She can easily recognize that what she got was something so much better.

Your efforts were genuine, caring, as if her opinion mattered to you.

For the first time in seemingly forever, she felt herself being appreciated.

Perhaps she could indulge you just this one time.

“Mom!” Mai calls as she rushes towards them, with her older sister just behind them.

She and Maki have heard everything from the other side of the room, since the curiosity behind your actions naturally forced them to do so.

When the good hearted nature of your intentions were finally revealed, put somewhat still pushed away by their mother, they soon understood it was necessary for them to step in and help you further convince her to be pampered for once in her life, thus, the following ensued.

“Let’s eat!! I’m starting and Y/N-chan made us food!” she whines, grabbing her mother’s right sleeve as to emphasize her words.

“Yeah, mom!” Maki pouts, crossing her arms “Besides, you rarely get to eat with us anyways, might as well take it! —Wait, will you eat with us too, Y/N-chan?”

“Oh” you faltered. Guess you haven’t thought about that. “I… depends if your mom wants me to”

The girls waste no second to swirl their heads towards their mother, puppy eyes in place, as they begin to plead.

“Pleeeeaaaase” they cry in unison, pulling and tugging on her sleeves “please let her eat with us, please, please, pleeeeaaaaassseeeeeeeeeeee”

“Fine, alright!” Junko sharply interrupts “But let’s make it quick, I still have your father’s breakfast to prepare”

You had prepared food though, just not intended to be eaten with them. However, this was a nice twist of events you couldn’t deny. It felt nice to actually eat with the company of someone else.

Not that you were alone during dinner, since you now had Naoaki to share it with, but back before he entered your life, it was just you… and your staff, limiting themselves to observe you and ask you from time to time if you needed anything else—making you feel like some kind of caged animal observed by it’s visitors.

It felt nice to indulge in these types of domesticity, giving you the impression of being part of a family.

A moment you wished would last forever.

Once everyone was done eating their breakfast, you went ahead and started picking up everyone's plates—promptly stopping Junko from doing so under the pretense that you were the one that roped her into this in the first place, and that she deserved it to take it easy, thus, your responsibility to look after your guests.

The mother of two would begrudgingly accept your offer, but not without insisting that she’d be allowed to at least wash the plates. You deny her request once more, attacking her from another angle by reminding her that she has yet to prepare her husband’s breakfast. That seemed to do the work, because after that, she no longer offered to help anywhere else.

The twins thank you for the meal and tell you that they will be on their way to class , but not before reminding you that they intended to play with you once they were done with school—a sentence you couldn’t stop laughing at upon realizing how accommodating you’ve become to their will. 

Junko would attempt to sway them back on track, warning them that they have to complete their homework first before doing anything else with you, which they promised to do as they bid their farewells.

Falling back into the routine, you take this moment to chat with Junko and maybe… get her to confess her opinion regarding your efforts—because throughout the whole time she was eating, she never commented on your skill.

“So…” you start, discreetly peeking over to Junko’s side “did you like the food?” 

A few seconds pass, receiving nothing but silence from her as she diligently disinfects the vegetables she was to use.

“It was… acceptable” She eventually responds upon deliberating that her lack of acknowledgement wouldn’t be courteous for the one that fed her, all while reached out for a nearby knife and began cutting the same vegetables she was preparing “Although you have much to improve if you want to start making appropriate meals for Naoya-sama”

«I thought she would say that» you muse as you continue cleaning the plates on the sink  «But it’s not a bad response»

“…thank you” Junko murmurs and you gasp.

“Don’t mention it” a smile appears on your lips as you proceed to bask in the warmth this closeness brought between the two. To hear her admit she liked your food, and was grateful for it—it was pure ecstasy!

“Do not think this will change anything between us” She’s quick to raise her guard upon realizing she’s allowed herself to be vulnerable for far too long, and hopefully, right before you got the wrong idea. 

However, it was too late. Before she was able to do anything else, your eyes began to twinkle with a mischievous gleam that implied you’ve already begun to see her differently  

“I’m still your mentor!’

“Of course!” You chuckled “My friend of a mentor”

“No. Stop it immediately” Junko fumes as she continues to dive into her work while you continue laughing.

Nonetheless, even if Junko somewhat indulged in this nonsensical banter, you still felt that she hasn’t completely allowed herself to be honest with you. There’s still so much that she’s holding onto, perhaps out of fear of vulnerability or her own family, making you wonder what it would take for her to finally open up to you.

Well, you wouldn’t force her. 

For now, this fleeting moment of happiness is all you could ask for.

Having Mai and Maki back in your life was certainly something you took great enjoyment in, but as much as you were basking in their prosperity… you were starting to feel… tired.

Yes, you liked being with them and would do anything to never lose them again, but that didn’t mean you had to spend every waking hour with them. And not only because you were starting to have trouble keeping up to their hyperactive behavior, which dragged you from one corner of the estate to the other, but rather, because you’ve begun to disregard your other relationships:

Naoaki .

The poor man had remained quiet about this whole ordeal, presumably as to not make you feel bad, but you knew the truth.

Another thing that kept you agitated throughout the days was the link that he represented between you and your sister.

Of course, you didn’t want to say that this is the only reason you’ve been trying to reach out to him. No, obviously not—there was a healthy relationship at stake that you intended to preserve, as well as overall missing spending time with him and hearing his stories whenever he left the estate: You wished to know if he’d managed to save the wrongly-named property an opportunistic man thought capable of stealing, as well as his jujutsu endeavors.

And above all… to know if your sister finally responded to your letter.

You assume that enough time has passed already for her to write a missive of her own, and for it to subsequently arrive at the P.O. box solely designated for your correspondence; if that was the case, it was only a matter of having Naoaki go fetch it and bring it to you. 

But just as if it’s written in the human genome, intrusive thoughts are quick to make way to your mind and plague them with all kinds of horrible outcomes, starting with the one that  perhaps your letter was never sent, because it was intercepted by the Zen’in!

Something that didn’t make sense once you thought about it. If that had been the case, you probably wouldn’t be alive to talk about it. You discard it quickly.

However, you didn’t stop there. If that wasn’t the reason why you haven’t learned about your sister, it was because she hasn’t responded to it! Because she no longer cares about you!

That’s idiotic . You knew Hinata very well, and after promising to get you out of there, there was no way she would leave you stranded. 

But

You do knew her to be a very busy person. Her valuable technique, alongside the notion that the jujutsu community wasn’t known for being very… just to it’s sorcerers necessities, still stuck in an outdated system the elders have refused to consider changing (the same one that put you in this situation) it was only reasonable that Hinata wouldn’t have gotten the chance to answer your message just yet.

Well, there’s still the positive side to look after.

The worst of the best scenarios, the mail service was simply late. It’s something that can definitely happen, more now that it is nearing the highest season of the year—the holidays.

And in the best of the worst, assuming your sister did indeed write back, Naoaki has simply not been able to go to the post office—you also had to consider that he was a busy man on his own, doing you a favor . The least you could do is not be demanding with him, especially after the two haven’t been able to spend time together. 

Well, whatever the case, you already had something to look forward to, and that was spending time with him.

You managed to set some time aside from your busy schedule, fortunately matching with his, to catch up on all the things you missed. 

You also made sure to let the twins know that you’d be a bit occupied, so whatever it was that they wanted to do today, it would have to be postponed for another time. Something they begrudgingly accepted, but soon overcame once Junko told them she was to go to the nearby village.

Moving on from that moment, you start making your way to the assigned rendezvous point, the same lily garden you’ve always frequented with him and had become somewhat of a symbol of your friendship with him.

You sit down, getting yourself comfortable on the engawa and begin to wait.

“Y/N”

Right on cue. 

With a smile parting your lips, you proceed to greet the man with a tinkling call of his name, a gesture that he takes at heart and responds with a grin on his own.

Eager to take his rightful place by your side, he wastes no second to approach you and sit down, but before he’s able to do so, he’s halted by the sight of a tray essentially filled to the brim with all kinds of snacks and drinks—something he’s never seen your staff do so before, at least not to this extent, and rightfully assumes it wasn’t them.

“What’s with all this?” Naoaki says as he begins to look through its contents. There’s at least 3 packages of cookies, 2 bowls of fruit, a glass of orange juice and a cup of tea. Many options to choose from if one of them wasn’t to your liking. Were you perhaps… starving?

“Oh, the servants brought it” you say, eyeing down the items beside you, before patting the area next to you, as if to incite him to sit down.

“The servants? Like Mariya?” He accepts your suggestion and sits down.

“No” you shake your head “The rest of the servants. They’ve been acting like this for days now, I don’t know what’s gotten into them”

“Well, can’t say I don’t like seeing you getting some kind of appreciation, just like you deserve, but it’s quite odd”

“Oh, stop it” you roll your eyes, reaching out for a grape. “You can take whatever you want, it’s too much for me anyways—but yeah, you’re right. It’s a bit weird”

“Ah, well, don’t mind me. I’m starving” he says, proceeding to take you up on your offer and grab a cookie. “Well, it’s been a while Y/N”

“It has!” you gasp “It’s been too long! What have you been up to?”

“Not much, the usual that you already know—paperwork and jujutsu” he says, leaning back on his arms “And you?”

“Spending my time with the twins” you reminisce.

“The, oh so generous ones, that finally permitted you to spend time with me?” he smirks.

“It seems so” you chuckle back “But that makes them sound like they have me against my will, which I must confess, they do”

He laughs “Well, I’m glad you’re getting along with them. More so that Junko-san allowed it as well. She can be very overprotective of her daughters when it comes to it, but we already knew that”

“Yeah… it seems like we’ve worked out differences for now, that is, until I do something to infuriate her” you giggle.

“I guess we should give her a break. I can’t imagine being married to my uncle is a nice thing to live with”

“Oh, poor woman” you lament, although your interaction with Ogi has been short, you can imagine the nightmare it must’ve been to be related to him. In a way, you understood her. 

Guess the only good thing that has ever come from him were his daughters. “And here I am, bothering her”

“I don’t think you’re bothering her, she’s simply worried that she can’t keep an eye on her daughters all the time… but at the same time, she deserves a break. Not that you’re they’re nanny of course, but… I think she’s starting to see that you’re a good person”

“You think so?” A part of you knows this to be a truth, specially after the interaction you two held back in the kitchen. You just liked being reassured, you presume.

“I know so” he doubles down “You’re a beautiful person, inside and out”

Embarrassed by his smooth compliment, you immediately glance away. 

“...Thank you” you whisper as heat begins to take place on your cheeks. Just how long was he intending to keep this up?

“You’re welcome” he winks.

“Whatever” you pout at his silly expression before finally regaining the courage to drive the conversation back to its origin and onto a subject you were in deep urge to clarify.  “...there’s something that I wanted to ask you”

The sudden shift in your tone is all that he needs to know.

“I think I know where you’re going.” Naoaki responds, showing that he was on the same page as you. “It’s about your sister, isn’t it?”

“Yeah” you nod “Has she… sent anything?”

For a few seconds, Naoaki seems to be considering whether to tell you the truth or design a lie to avoid your sadness. But if he were to do this… it’ll be disrespecting your trust, and you’ve grown to be someone so important to him to ever think of doing something like that.

Thus, coming to the appropriate decision, he takes a breath as he mentally prepares to start his report, and speak.

“I went today” Naoki begins. You perk your ears almost immediately after, as if physically trying to place all of your attention in his words and avoiding any of them to slip under your attention “And I think you’re not going to like it”

“What? What is it?” you urge frantically, the worst outcomes are already crossing your mind. “Please tell me Naoaki, did… Did my letter not go through? Did someone find out what we did?!”

“No, of course not. I took extra care to ensure no one will find out”

“Then… what is it?”

“I… checked the P.O. box and there was nothing—not a single letter. Empty ” he confides “I thought that maybe she hadn’t received the letter yet, but the system marks it as delivered, so… it all points to her not having sent anything yet”

You seem to be tackled by two emotions at the same time: relief, and anguish.

Relief, because it meant that your letter was sent as proposed. Received and signed by her, or so you assume. So at least that’s secured.

And anguish because… well, she hasn’t responded, and the secrecy behind her reasons has you uneasy. 

You’d like to think that it wasn’t because she didn’t care, and more like she was simply busy with her life: her responsibility to the clan, the jujutsu community… and now, you.

Still, even if you foresaw this possibility… It didn't ease the pain. 

You tried to reassure yourself that only the best, the good reasons were the ones behind her reasoning, but you couldn’t help but feel a bit disappointed, desperate even, that you hopefully held on… for nothing.

You were looking forward to this moment for the longest, and you wished you could’ve gotten some kind of closure at least… if you only knew why your sister had not responded, well, you think you would’ve been able to distance yourself from this harrowing twinge in your heart.

Seeing the way your face contorts into sadness, it doesn’t take long before Naoaki begins regretting telling you all this in the first place, proceeding to put his hand behind your back as if to root you back to the present, and offer the comfort of his words.

“I’m sorry” Naoaki says, rubbing your back. He’s very tempted to hug you, but he doesn’t want his gesture to be misinterpreted. Besides, they’re in the open, and if someone saw the two of you like that… 

Yeah, he’d rather not risk it then. 

“I asked them to double check if there wasn’t anything in the back, something they might have overseen… but nothing”

“It was a risk” you finally speak up “We knew what we were getting into”

“Are you… ok, Y/N?”

“Not really” you sigh, and this breaks his heart.

“Is there anything I can do?”

“Well… we already knew this was a possibility so… I guess all that’s left for me to do is continue writing to her” you respond, giving him a mirthless smile “at least for her to not worry that much about me”

Naoaki knows your smile is not genuine, but it doesn’t stop him from admiring you any less. Even in the harshness of this reality, you still find it in yourself to move forward.

It baffles him that your husband isn’t appreciative of your nature.

“I’ll do whatever it takes to help you” He promises “Send as many letters as you need. Who knows? We might even fund the whole postal service by ourselves”

“I’m not planning to abuse your help that way” you squinted your eyes at his joke, although you had to admit, it was amusing. “Not if it’s your money we’re talking about”

“The postage is cheap, so don’t worry about it”

“Well, if that’s what we’re going to do… I guess I could do with more paper. Last time, I almost ran out of sheets because of my indecisiveness, and if that’s going to happen again, I want to be sure to ha—”

“Y/N-Chan! Y/N-chaaaan! ”

A squeamish voice calls in the distance. Soft, like a wind dancing with the breeze, but loud for neither to ignore.

A voice you’d recognize everywhere, but when it once brought you contentment, now gave you uneasiness due to its bad timing.

“Mai?” you gasp upon seeing the familiar figure of the girl coming right around the corner. Did you… not tell them you’d be busy today?

Well, it seems so. Because the oblivious girl continued to rush towards you, surprisingly unaccompanied by her twin sister, all whilst holding a colorful book in one hand, and a white rectangular box on the other.

“Look what mom got me today!” Mai says as she eagerly waves the items before you: a coloring book and a box of crayons. “She got it at the village because of my good grades, and I thought we could use it before Maki gets here! She paints horrible and always breaks my colors, so I don’t want her to use—”

Silence.

The unexpected quietness of her voice causes you to grow apprehensive as you suddenly see the color drain from her face. 

Her gaze is intently fixed on a spot beside you, appalling enough to keep her rooted in the spot as something seems to flash on across her eyes. The contrasting difference from her enthusiastic behavior to her frightened facade causes you to determinedly follow her gaze towards the mysterious reasons that enacted such a change, and get to the bottom of it.

The answer behind her actions causes you to be further unsettled.

Naoaki .

You remember the girls telling you that they didn’t like him, or the rest of his siblings, when you suggested inviting over to use them as more players for their game.

Their response was one that somewhat disappointed you, but you didn’t think much about it. After all, their dislike for Naoya probably branched out to the rest of his brothers, and you weren’t about to force them to do something they didn’t want to.

Adding his tragic backstory, how the family forced one another to basically refute him whenever possible, it only made sense that Mai was struggling to accept the fact that he was there with you.

Yes, that must’ve been it. There was no other explanation. After all, if you were to reconsider Mariya’s words… Naoaki would be the one to understand them the most.

Hoping to snap Mai back into reality, you decide to step in.

“Mai” you call softly, but she doesn’t snap out of her trance “ Mai ” the girl suddenly returns, snapping her eyes onto yours “I’m sure Maki would love to color with you. Just tell her to be more careful, but if you want, how about we color tomorrow? So to make it—”

“N-no” she shakes her head, voice trembling with a whisper “It’s ok… maybe another time”

And with that, the young girl sharply turns on her heels and disappears back into the estate. 

But not without leaving behind the aftermath of her odd behavior, which was now plaguing your mind.

Worrying that her actions could’ve also affected Naoaki, perhaps even more than you, for you do not believe that being rejected by his family members is something nice to experience, you decide to go back to him and comfort him, only to find that he wasn’t as… well, saddened as you expected.

No, in fact, his gaze seemed to be… well, distant . Mysterious. 

You don’t know if he’s worried for her after her reaction—after all, he doesn’t have the same type of relationship you had with them, so he wouldn’t be able to relate as much as you did—or annoyed, because he wasn’t appreciative that his short time with you was interrupted by the same girls that hoarded all of your attention the other days.

Whatever his reason was, only Naoaki held the truth. And to him, the demonstration of his younger cousin’s dislike for him wasn’t anything new, but hurt the same.

But until he told you that, you knew there was something you had to do.

“I’m sorry about that” you start, believing that his reaction must’ve pertained to annoyance by her interruption “I thought I told them I wouldn’t be able to be with them today”

“Don’t worry about it” he says, eyes softening once he glances back at you “I was just… thinking”

“About what?” you tilt your head, curious.

“Well, about how they didn’t like me” he sighs “And how attached they seem to be to you, which makes me wonder… How did you meet in the first place?”

Well, that’s a story you haven’t looked back to in a long time.

It had to be the first time you traveled around the house after you somewhat managed to pull yourself together after receiving that… shocking sentence (which you still haven’t told Naoaki about) from Naobito.

But if you were to get into technicalities, it’ll have to be when Junko guided you through your first tour of the house.

It was almost comical now.

It started when you felt as if you were being targeted by a cursed enemy, specifically after you walked past the cursed basement and the little… incident you had subsequently. 

The things you began to hear after that, the steps against the wooden door, the thuds, the whispers, the pale hand opening the nearby door…

All evidence that pointed to you being attacked, that is, until it was all revealed that it was them following you.

You couldn’t believe they’ve actually managed to pull that off, however, during one conversation that you had with them regarding this situation, it became clear that they never intended to make you feel that way: they simply wanted to get a look at you and that’s all.

You soon came to the conclusion that your wrong state of mind made it easier for you to be fooled; but now that it has all cleared up, you can look back at this story and have a laugh.

“I feel like my answer was a bit disappointing” you say upon noticing Naoaki sharing a somewhat forced chuckle. Way different from the genuine ones he’s shared with you in the past.

“No, it’s not that” he responds, shaking his head “It’s just… well, different to what I expected”

“What did you expect?”

“I… guess they haven’t told you, have they?”

Oh . You don’t like where this is going.

“Tell me… what?” you frown.

“Ah, don’t give me that look. I already feel like I’m not the best person to tell you this” he looks away.

“ Naoaki , you can’t say that and not tell me” you condemn “Are the girls ok?”

“As ok as they can be” Naoaki sighs, accepting his fate “If you must really know… Mai and Maki are set to become Naoya’s servants once they turn 15. It was decided as soon as they were born, apparently unwort—”

“Wait, hold up. What ?” you feel like you’ve skipped a few crucial steps before getting to this point of the conversation.

“The twins are currently being trained to become part of your husband’s staff” Naoaki repeats, internally wincing at the way your eyes begin to darken. “I… thought Junko-san had told you”

“No, she did not” you seethe, but the anger forming inside you wasn’t directed to her. 

You were intelligent enough that this was a decision she held no power to influence, but rather… your insignificant husband.

Oh, you could see it now. The kick he must’ve gotten when Ogi, or whatever bastard was the one responsible for this, set the order in motion.

“No one told me about this” you admit..

“I imagined” Naoaki reveals in disappointment “Naoya isn’t one to speak about these things”

“And he’s fine with that?” you groan “he’s fine with children being stripped for their future, his own cousins , simply because they’re women?”

You felt so disgusted, just when you thought you couldn’t do so any more.

“It was decided when he wasn’t yet heir of the clan… but he now has the power to change that and has decided not to”

“That’s—that’s disgusting” you exclaim, beginning to see red.

“But there’s nothing you can do about it. Believe me, I tried” Naoaki sighs. “I don't even think you, his wife, could do so. I mean, you could try … you know, getting the idea out of him, but that’s all you can—”

“ Excuse me ?” you cringe. Has your hearing decided to fail today, or did Naoaki really suggest that?

“I obviously didn’t mean to offend you, Y/N. I would never see you like that, you know that. But… Well, we have to be honest too. To my brother, you’re nothing more than a piece of meat for him to use whenever he wants” he explains “But that can be to your benefit as well, maybe if you convince—”

“Wait” you scoff “Are you being serious right now?” He remains quiet.

“Look, Naoaki” you continue on, unable to remain silent while your shock remains unattended “I don’t know what's gotten into you. But just because that’s the reality of my marriage, doesn’t mean I want it openly discussed like this, less actually do what you’re implying ”

“I only intended to be assertive about it. Maybe we can use this to help the—”

“Naoaki!” You yell, deep in disbelief. You just told him you wanted to stop, and he didn’t care! “Surely you’re not serious about this?!”

“I mean, it’s all hypothetical, but we have to take advantage of what you represent if you want to do something!” he exclaims back, hoping that you’d understand his reasoning, but you had enough.

“You’re unbelievable” You breathe. holding back the tears that had begun to pool in your eyes after the repetitive stabs Naoaki inflicted in your heart with the shape of those suggestions.

Have you… miscalculated your friendship with him?

You hated to admit that… perhaps .

Deciding to avoid entertaining this situation any longer, you decided to stand up and retreat away from him.

“Wait, Y/N”! Naoaki cries, wasting no second to stand up himself and stop you with his hand on your shoulder, one that you crudely pull away from him as you continue walking away. “Y/N, I didn’t mean—”

“I know how Naoya sees me.” you, looking back at him. The sight of your sorrowful face is one he’d hoped to never see again, and yet, here it was. And because of his own damn fault.

“Y/N” he calls once more “I’m sorry, I shouldn't ha—”

“I just wished you , of all people, hadn’t reminded me of it”

Maybe you were exaggerating. Maybe you were not. Maybe he intended all this to be nothing more than a nasty joke, but the reality was that he’d stung a nerve.

In fact, it wasn't the first time you’ve confronted something like this in the past. When Naohiko jokingly called you an adulterer, you weren’t… well, thrilled about it. And you thought that by Naoaki’s reaction, he thought the same

However, to hear him mutter a similar word,  coming from the one you’ve considered to be a safe haven of sorts, shocked you. 

But it only got worse when you called him out on it, and he simply proceeded to justify himself…

God… you felt so stupid.

And yet, your mind was telling you to not follow down the path of generalization and group him with the likes of his family… because you couldn’t reject the things that he’s done for you in the past.

However the sense of betrayal you were currently undergoing forbids you from doing otherwise, and you now begin to sourly lament the ill decision of placing him on a pedestal.

Wanting to keep some distance from him and your emotions, you began to wander aimlessly across the many rooms of the estate, at least until you calmed down.

This decision eventually leads you to an empty room found deep in the south wing, past the laundry rooms, one you decided to use to seclude yourself from the rest of the world and diminish your spiraling sentiments, until you deemed yourself capable of moving on with your duties.

… Or so, that’s what would’ve happened, if the room wasn’t already in use.

Once you slid the door open and stepped inside, your eyes were quick to make the figure of not one, but two people at the end of the chamber.

But they weren’t just standing there, no. To begin, they were tightly wrapped in each other's embrace, impossibly closed to one another as if they were trying to melt together.

After that, the other thing that you noticed was the placement of their lips: on top of each other and swaying against them, a gesture of affection to profess their love.

Completely unaware of your presence, one of the figures, a man , proceeds to tighten up their grasp against their partner and pull them even closer , as if they were afraid that by the smallest of mistakes they would slip from their fingers and disappear forever.

The other, a woman , moaned into his mouth, basking in the affection the other was showering her with as she pushed her figure against him, leading her to slam him against the wall. 

A… well, moving moment, you suppose, between two definitely intimate partners. And they seemed intent on continuing on, that is, until the sensation of being observed begins to creep from their spine, causing them to temporarily halt their contact and swirl towards the entrance.

You could say that having to watch them do that wasn’t the most… shocking detail to acknowledge.

No.

What shocked you the most is the realization that the woman involved… was none other than Mariya herself.

The awareness of those present is enough to drain the color of their skin, eyes widening to its fullest as they all stand speechless, attempting to muster a response, an explanation, or perhaps for them to be swallowed whole by the earth and disappear.

“I—I shouldn’t be here” You squeak, sharply turning on your heels and preparing to exit the room “Sorry!”

Your prime lady-in-waiting, understanding the weight of her actions, is quick to peel herself from her lover and attempt to reach out to you. However, you’ve proven to be much faster than her desperation, and just as she peeks through the door to catch a lead of your whereabouts, you are already gone.

“Lady Y/N!” Mariya cries, hoping to receive a response from you, but fails miserably.

Well, that’s one way to stop thinking about Naoaki.

It’s not like you were ignorant to the notion that other people had relationships, and were entitled to share affections with one another. No, of course not. They could do whatever they want.

The thing that shocked you the most is that you were exposed to a sight of Mariya… well, that you didn’t want to see?

You mean, who wants to see their close ones engaging in affections, like, willingly?? You’re not that weird! 

Sure, it was an accident, one that you were more than eager to move on from and act as if it never happened. But you weren’t able to, because… well, she’s your main lady-in-waiting, the one that oversees all matters regarding you!

You were bound to see her one time or the other, and that’s exactly what happened. When it was time to continue on with her duties to you, neither of you could even look at the other’s eyes without you flinching away almost immediately, clearly embarrassed for having been experiencing this… moment.

Something that continued to upset you even when the sun had finally retreated for the day, and now, it was time to rest.

However, you miscalculated how affected Mariya was about this whole ordeal as well. 

When she started to get you ready for bed, you noted her movements to grow… clumsy, hesitant. What usually took her one try, she was now doing up to 3. 

Luckily, Haruko and Hitomi seemed to be a bit… unaware of this situation. And if they were, they simply assumed it must’ve been due to the tumultuous relationship you held with her. It’s at this point that you can’t help but wonder if they knew of Mariya’s relationship.

Oh no, did you uncover a secret you weren’t supposed to?!

Well, once their duties were completed, the sisters bid their farewells by wishing you a good night’s sleep, just as they always did. They proceed to leave the room first, and now… you and Mariya are left alone.

If you had luck, and she played her cards right, Mariya deemed it necessary to leave the room as well and call this awkward moment over.

But instead, she remains silent, almost as if she were deep in thought. Prompting you to hurry her departure with a:

“Goodnight”

She fidgets with her fingers, chewing on her bottom lip as she just… stands there, entertaining something in her mind. It’s only when she finally decides to speak that you realize… Well, this night wasn’t about to end just yet.

“Lady Y/N” she finally speaks up, and your uneasiness grows. “I… was wondering if I… could have a moment with you?”

You swallow. This is just what you needed.

But if this his how you’ll get this over with… might as well.

You nod, and Mariya takes your response as her cue to walk closer, stopping just by the edge of the futon and sitting down onto her lap. 

She takes a deep breath, mentally hyping herself up to discuss the evident issue between the two. Something she’s never needed, for she was always direct when it comes to dealing with problems.

Guess there’s always a first time for everything.

“I want to talk… about what happened earlier”

“I didn’t see anything” you blurt out almost immediately, but far from achieving the desired results, the ones that would give her the understanding that this is a matter she can put down to rest and get out of your room, simply convinces her that this is an urgent matter to discuss.

“What you saw” she treads carefully “Or rather, who you saw me with was my partner, Tatsuro”

As much as you declared this as something you didn’t want to talk about, the introduction to her partner was quick to revoke that sentiment and replace it with curiosity, wondering what the intentions behind her telling you this were.

A doubt that Mariya notices, but knows to be revealed when she lays her foundations down.

“We’ve been together for a few years” she continues “He was already here before I started, but I didn’t meet him until a month after. 6 months later, we started dating”

Still, you don’t get why she was telling you this. If anything, shouldn’t you be the one to use this occurrence as blackmail?

“Against out contractual agreement” 

“Contractual… agreement?” you blink.

Mariya nods “We’re not allowed to date within the staff. The masters of this house think of it as a… distraction of sorts, and a possible liability if a pregnancy comes from the relationship. Thus, a matter to report”

Wait.

Report?

“You shouldn’t have seen that, because it was something that wasn’t supposed to happen in the first place” She continues to justify “Whatever punishment you deem fit for this misbehavior, I’ll take it without objection” she finalices by leaning forward, hands sliding down to her sides and onto the floor as her heads lowers as low as she can go, ending just a few inches away from the ground. 

Without a doubt, she’s pleading you to do as she requested.

It was no secret that your relationship with Mariya wasn’t exactly at its best presentation, and that you both held vastly contrasting opinions, but even with all that taken into consideration, you wouldn’t actually go ahead and get her into trouble by snitching on her for having a boyfriend, of all things! 

In fact, she knew you were ignorant about this small detail written in her contract, and if she wanted to leave unscathed from this whole situation, she could’ve easily done so by avoiding bringing up the subject completely.

And yet… she’s come to you, tail between her legs, begging you to report her to the respective authorities.

Thus, you’re left without words.

“I’m… not going to do that” you finally state; regardless of your situation with her, you were still capable of understanding that this was a condition that the Zen’in had no business restricting. Why do they have to control the personal life of their staff? If anything, they should be offering better working conditions for them!

Well, you’re expecting too much of nothing.

“But… I need to know” You continue on now that Mariya has pulled herself away from the matter floor and set her gaze directly onto yours, evidently confused by your diverted course of actions.  “Why did you tell me this?”

“Because it’s my duty” she responds, and you can’t help but take her answer as evading the question, out of protocol if you must. “My duty to you ”

“To sabotage yourself?” you egg on dubiously “You know this could only be detrimental for you, and your partner”

She lowers her gaze.

“We already spoke of the consequences, and it’s something we’re willing to face”

You sigh; perhaps you were expecting too much from her as well.

Or so… you believed.

“And to… make my intentions clear with you”

“Intentions?” you queried; her words make you tense, anxious , was her long awaited admittance of her ulterior motives about to become true?

Will you permanently set her as your enemy, one that you’d have to consider as a threat from this point forward?

Not quite.

For Mariya held nothing but a pure heart.

“From the moment I was assigned to be under your care, I knew I had achieved a good reputation amongst my superiors” Mariya starts, recounting the day Meiko had come to her to inform her of what many in the work field would call a raise “And that I had to continue performing my duties with the same metrics that got me there on the first place, if not more, because being assigned as part of the personal staff of a woman of your rank, the team leader in another words, was no easy task, but I was excited to do so anyways.

With this new position in my hands, I was given the opportunity to also suggest who else I would like to have in my crew. Haruko and Hitomi were the first ones that came to mind, due to being the rising stars amongst the staff for their consistent positive feedback at the end of each season, as well as my personal fondness for them; it didn’t take me much to understand they were the ones I needed to have in my team, thus, they were also assigned to be under your care.

Then, the day finally came. The day you were to arrive at the estate. We’ve heard some rumors about you, but we paid no mind to them. It was always better to make an opinion out of our own experiences. 

In fact, I don’t think either of the girls could sleep, each one of them dreadfully worrying that they would mess up their job on the first day. However, I knew they wouldn’t. Their job was something they were exceptionally good at, and it was simply the nerves talking for them.

When we finally saw you for the first time, we were… were, astonished. 

You were far prettier than we imagined, and definitely more amicable compared to the rumors your in-laws were already spreading about you. However… we did notice that there was something… different when it came to you and the rest of the women we’ve served in the past. 

There was something in your eyes , the way they glimmered, or perhaps they way they didn’t that soon made us understand this wasn’t what you wanted. The other’s at least acted like they were agreeable to their new arrangement, but your tired face proved us otherwise.

And when you finally confessed to wanting to rest, an excuse used to obtain a moment alone from your husband… we knew you were forced to be here.

Wanting to give you that space, I asked Haruko and Hitomi to prepare something extra for you, against your wishes, in hopes to alleviate that homesickness I knew you were going through. After all, I wanted to give you the best impression, to serve my new mistress the best way I could, as well as earning your trust.

And because I was so eager to serve you appropriately… I naively thought I held power against Naoya’s will when it came to your health; I failed to recognize that not even you, the wife we heard he’d desperately sought after, was enough to change his behavior.

I wasn’t ignorant to the way the men would treat their own kind, but I guess my inexperience on witnessing their methods to obtain these results was what stopped me from being able to protect you from your husband’s domineering ways”

A sharp memory flashes inside your head.

The loud noise you heard outside the room that fateful day, the same one that abruptly woke you up into panic. A thundering like resonance against the floor…

It all made sense now.

It had been Mariya literally falling victim to the atrocious demands of your husband—moments before he barged into the room and took you by force.

And you still had the nerve to blame her for allowing him inside.

“You don’t know how much I regretted allowing you to be a victim of my inaction” Mariya continues on, a tremble now clear in her voice “I wished I could’ve done more, stood up against him and demanded to leave you alone. But I couldn’t. All that I did was hear your cries as I stood there, doing nothing , because I began to fear that he’d also do the same to me”

Your eyes start to burn.

“But what hurts me the most is that I’ve lost the trust I never even had the chance to win. I made you think I was against you, cornering you to believe that you were alone in this prison of a house. 

Haruko and Hitomi continued to torment themselves for not being able to do much that day, but I did my best to reassure them that it wasn’t their responsibility. After all, I was the one in charge of your health. Besides, they had their family to look after, I just have me to care for. 

And yet… that didn’t matter to them when they decided to beg me to stop Naoya’s inexorable rampage once you came back from the doctor. They were more than willing to throw their job away if it meant protecting you from the cruel games of your husband.

I eventually acted, but not because of my own volition. I was ashamed that I had even doubted if I should help you or not. 

I feel ashamed that I failed you once more”

You don’t like this.

You don’t like listening to this, to her, to her voice, her reason, to the fact that you’ve cruelly misjudged Mariya and her intentions, the sisters intentions, the reason they had to hold back and limit themselves to follow their masters orders, believing that they didn’t help you because they were selfish, and not because they were entitled to look after themselves as well!

How could you demand their absolute loyalty, when they’re constantly facing the threat of losing their job, the income their families depend on, as well as the stability of having a roof to sleep under and food to eat every day? For someone they didn’t even know?!

If anything, you should’ve been the person that understood them the most! You knew what it was to live with the daily fear of having to watch your actions, or face the consequences of not doing so.

But you didn’t.

And yet… she continued to serve you. To help you. To comfort you—as if she were the one that wronged you.

And you?

You only judged her.

“It was never my intention to make you believe I was working against you” Mariya declares as she clenches her first against her lap, a tear falling down to her skirt “And if this is something that will help you understand I never meant  to hurt you, then I’ll do it”

“No—please” you finally break the limits of your silence with a whimper, raising your hands to cover your eyes, a futile attempt to run away from the shame your actions have brought to you. “Please, don’t do this. You don’t have to—I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if something happened to you, more than what I’ve already done to you”

“I don’t resent you for doing what you did” Mariya genuinely understood how afraid you’ve become thanks to the unceasing torments of your new family. Even then, she is empathetic to you. “I’m just… sorry that my inexperience facing these kind of situations affected you”

“Mariya, please—! I—” you sob, voice breaking “I’m so—sorry”

“Oh, Y/N” she coos, rushing to your figure and taking you in her arms, feeling guilty that her words seemingly hurt you once more. “I never wanted you to cry, I just… I just wanted to tell you this”

“I feel… horrible , disgusted with myself for treating you the way I did” you bewailed, leaning into her touch “The things I told you, the way I reacted towards you—how could I be so blind to all the things you’ve done for me? And then to compare you to Naoya and his family!”

“We’ve both done things we regret” She says, hugging you tighter to her and placing her head above yours. The woman had long understood that you were simply reacting out of your desperation, but you were still kind. She’s seen it with Mai, and Maki, with Haruko, and Hitomi… 

“I’m sorry for pushing you away”

“I had to take some time.” Mariya explained “It hurt me to leave you, but I needed space to think about me, about us .”

“I should’ve have done that” you sniffle “But I’m… glad you’re here now”

“I guess I have Tatsuro to thank for pulling me into that room so out of nowhere” Mariya jests in hopes of earning a chuckle from you, smiling earnestly once she hears your quiet laughter. “I would’ve have gotten the courage to speak to you if it weren’t for him”

“I’m sorry” you whisper, now referring to your small… interruption.

“I should’ve been more careful” she sighs “It’s not your fault—If anything, I should be sorry for exposing you for something you didn’t ask to see”

Silence eventually grows between the two as your cries come to a halt. Staying close together for a few more instances as you mentally rehash the successions of tonight’s talk. 

Now that both opened up to one another and acknowledged each other’s mistakes… you and Mariya were more than ready to leave everything behind and move onto the future: one that would have you placing your trust on her, and vice versa.

“Can we… start again?”

Mariya chuckles, and this makes you blush out of embarrassment, seemingly believing to have said something incorrectly “...What?”

“Nothing” she shakes her head, grinning “It’s exactly what I was thinking—I guess great minds think alike”

“I guess they do” You laugh “Thank you… Mariya. For not giving up on me”

“Thank you for accepting me” She sighs, and with this, the long strenuous chapter you had with Mariya ends the best possible way:

With you now having the fortune of calling her your friend .

Knock, knock .

There’s a sound coming from outside your bedroom. A noise loud and clear, yet, so distant. And your body reacts accordingly to it by scrunching your face and groaning in protest at the interference.

Your mind remains somewhat conscious, as if testing the waters and hoping to see if this succession was to happen once more—maybe it was directed at you, you have still yet to figure it out. 

But when a few seconds pass and the night continues on with its usual silence, you begin to relax once more into the soft pillows below you, diving into deep slum—

Knock, knock .

It was at your door, you had no doubt about it now. 

And whoever was behind those noises seemed unable to wait until the morning to deal with whatever it was that they wanted to deal with as they continued to knock again —much to your annoyance.

Now wide awake, you shuffle underneath the covers placed on your futon bed, moving your arms to your sides and prompting your body upwards.

A yawn escapes your lip as your vision begins to get accustomed to the profound darkness engulfing your room—signaling it was either very late at night, or early in the morning. Nonetheless, hours that no one is supposed to be waiting outside your room.

You intently stare as you continue to debate whether to tell the person off and demand them to come back later, in a more appropriate time, or deal with this situation assertively and directly. Now , in other words.

Well, even if you wanted to push them away, it was more than probable that they already heard you getting out of your bed, and as you reach out for the nearby lamp to turn it on, the adrenaline behind uncovering the mysterious caller prompts you to speak.

“Who is it?” you ask, voice confident and direct… or so you thought, because you unwillingly dragged the last few words of your sentence thanks to your drowsiness.

Your question would be hastily acknowledged in a matter of seconds, so you didn’t even bother theorizing who it was. 

However, you can admit that it was not who you expected.

“It’s me”

“ Naoaki? ” you frown, and the displeasure you felt for him thanks to early events (temporarily calmed by Mariya’s conversation) came back to you at full speed. “What do you want? Are you here to make fun of me while I’m asleep?”

“What? No, of course not” he whispers, hoping to calm down your rising voice with his soft tone and avoid waking up the others. Visiting you at this hour was a risk on its own.

Well, if it was so dangerous, why didn’t he consider doing that another time?

“I’d never do that”

“Yeah, whatever” you responded dismissively as you rubbed your eyes, a yawn escaping your lips soon after “What do you want then?”

“I… wanted to talk” he eventually confesses “If you allow me”

“At this hour?” you counter “Have you gone crazy? Can’t it wait until tomorrow?”

“I tried contacting you throughout the day, but it seems you were never available” He says, referencing the many times you’ve turned away from him as soon as you realized he was amongst your premises. Even if it wasn’t him, you wouldn’t take the risk and you’d just leave.

Well, now that he brought it up… you had to admit that you were planning on doing the same tomorrow, if you were still feeling the same of course. Guess it was only fair to give him the chance to explain himself if he truly wanted it.

“Fine” you sigh, defeated. “You’re already here”

“Can I come in?”

“Might as well” you murmur while rubbing your eyes, and Naoaki slides the door open, carefully enough to not make a single noise. And yet… strangely, for you see him trying to avoid showing his back to you, almost as if he were hiding something behind it.

Well, your theory only became more concrete upon noticing the adamancy of keeping his left arm behind his back.

What an odd way to approach you, if it wasn’t weird enough that he was doing so at night.

Once the door is closed, Naoaki glances up at you. And the sight that receives him is enough to take his breath away.

You look… well, sleepy, of course. But outside that… wow. The shock he gets for seeing you with your hair down for the first time is… well, indescribable. You look so… soft, cute in a way. A vision that he attempts to imprint in his mind as he walks towards you. 

“What is it?” you say upon noticing the… well, dumb look on his face.

“Nothing” he blinks back to reality “I just… thought I saw something”

“Let’s hurry” you say, crossing your arms “What do you want to talk about?”

“About earlier” his words give you some kind of déjà vu “About the mistake I committed against you”

“There’s nothing to talk about, you know what you did”

“I want you to know that I didn’t mean to any of it, less to hurt you”

“But you didn’t stop”

“No. I didn’t” he replicates, a contrasting reaction from the way you were expecting him to respond. You could say that you were waiting for him to go ahead and justify himself, but he didn’t. “And it was wrong”

Amused by his words, you decide to finally engage with a reasonable conversation with him.

“... then why did you do it?” your murmur. It was intended to solely be a question to keep the conversation going, however, your voice softens at the end. You might’ve not consciously done it, but something inside you pushed your true emotions to appear through your voice, demonstrating how truly damaged you were for his actions.

“Because I misjudged our friendship” he says, using the same words you used back then as to make his point across. “...I guess I felt comfortable enough with you to the point I thought I could share everything with you. Without thinking that… I could still hurt you. I mean, I guess I already knew that when I told you about my upbringing, but… this was different. This was towards you and I failed to filter my words because I thought… I didn’t have to”

“...you always have to filter your words, even with your friends”

“That’s the thing” Naoaki smiles “This time away….and the other as well, made me realize something”

You blink “What… thing?”

“How special you’ve become to me, more so than just a simple… friend.” he confesses “How much I love hearing your voice, keeping your company, talking to you, and have you listen to my missions I know to be boring, but the way you react to them, makes me think they’re the most amazing ones. I can’t help but feel a bit jealous when I see you with others… but that’s only natural, after all, why wouldn’t they be attracted to you and your kindness?”

Your heart seems to skip a bit as your eyes widen in shock. 

There was not a single trade of deceivement, a hidden motive to get you to lower down your guard and accept his words. But… it wasn’t. No, the time you’ve spent with Naoaki, the one you used to get to know him, gave you the basic understanding of his mannerisms, revealing that everything that he said until now was genuine, honest and with nothing more than good intentions.

And, if you dared to wander a bit further… you could even interpret his words as some kind of confession .

“I do have to say that being on the receiving end of your anger was… well, unpleasant” Naoaki remarked nervously “But even then, it only reaffirmed what I already held for you… and how much it meant to swallow my pride and do what was right—As well as realizing that your pout was much cuter than your smile, although they’re beautiful on their own”

“You don’t have to be cheesy about it” you scoff, blush in your cheeks as you look away “A simple compliment would’ve been enough”

“Where’s the fun in that?” he says “...but, on a more serious note. I’m sorry. I’m never been good with my words, or their timing, specially when it comes to expressing my feelings”

«I would’ve never guessed» you think «You always seem so smooth when you speak…» Did he really think you weren’t affected by the way he treated you from time to time? How you’d turn red whenever he gave you a compliment, one that went beyond being courteous, or the attention he placed on you just to ensure your comfortability?

“I think I’m straying away from what I want to say” Naoaki circles back “What I wanted to say is… I never wanted to hurt you, and it would make me incredibly happy if I continued having you in my life. But if you don’t see it in yourself to forgive me, I’ll understand”

He then proceeds to reveal the reason he had an arm placed behind him, setting it down onto the matter floor and just a few inches away from your reach.

“This isn’t some kind of bribe or extortion tactic. I… intended to give you these earlier, but I wasn’t able to do so because of… well, what happened—I still want you to have them though”

“What is it?” you ask, looking down onto the light purple plastic bag and the box inside it.

“Open it up”

You take the pastel pink rectangular box out of the bag, the first thing you notice was the label of the store imprinted on the top; judging by the small description underneath the logo, it seems to be something about sweets .

You then proceed to place the box on your lap as you carefully break the seal holding down the edges, efforts ending in finally revealing its contents.

An image that brings forth a sharp gasp from your mouth.

Mochi .

“I wanted to buy you some from the moment you told me these were your favorite”

You recall the exact moment it happened—back at the stable when the two were discussing suitable names for horses, inspired by your mother’s decision to name her beloved stallion ume , while Naoaki chose cupcake .

And you… well, you’d choose mochi .

“But finding the best ones was a task I never thought could be as difficult as it was” he admits “There were so many options to choose from—not that I’m complaining. I just… worry that I might’ve not gotten the ones you like”

There’s different colors, pink, yellow, green, blue , and purple. Hinting all kinds of flavors and fillings, ones that you were all too eager to try.

Yet, what shocked you wasn’t the fact that he’d brought you a wide selection of sweets to indulge in, implying that he must’ve spent a reasonable amount of money to get them as well as time putting them together.

But rather… that he remembered these were your favorite, and in such a casual conversation you assumed he would’ve already forgotten by now.

A gesture… you knew your husband would never bother to do so, because you weren’t of his interest.

But not to Naoaki, his brother. Your brother-in-law. The person that held no legal responsibility towards you, outside of getting along for the sake of politics.

He could’ve done so much to hurt you… and yet, he hasn’t. Instead, he decided to step up and do what his brother, his family… never thought appropriate to do.

Even if he’s made mistakes, because no one is perfect in this world, he’s capable enough of recognizing what he’s wronged, and not just blaming you for them. To have him opening his heart to you out of fear of losing you, like you were someone worthy of his time… made you feel—

And as you continue to stare at the box on your lap, you come to the blissful acceptance of something you’ve only entertained during whimsical moments with him, but now… believed to be the beginning of something true.

“Do you not like them?” he asks, oh, poor Naoaki. He probably thinks you were still angry at him, but that was long forgotten. “I can take them back and get you something else, if you’d like.”

How could you? After he voiced and showed you how important you were to him? His willingness to accept his mistakes and make you happy…

“That’s not it” you giggle, closing the box before you and finally looking up to him. The adoring way your eyes looked at him, your lips turned into a smile…

You were sure of it now.

“I was just… thinking how…”

I wished I had married you.

[omgjumin]

what is mine - han jumin!

summary: this fic is based off of jumin's birthday special event 2019. for those who have not yet unlocked this special event, this scenario happens when jaehee asks jumin, “what kind of thoughts do you usually have during showers?”

tags: established relationship, fem! reader, possessive jumin, he wants to mark you as his :(, smut, shower sex

notes: oh, to be held by jumin in bed as we share sleepy kisses...

Jumin thought that the only thing that would come out of his mouth today was a series of “thank you”’s. It wasn’t bad of course, he had expected this since it was his birthday. The RFA members greeted him with many happy birthdays, his father greeted him with the same thing. Jumin has been reminded of many birthdays before this year spent with the RFA members. The way Yoosung set his office sprinklers on because he missed lighting the candles on the cake, setting multiple documents on fire. Zen had given Jumin a horrible gift. It was an alarm clock that had the recording of Zen’s voice. Supposedly to Zen, it was meant for his fans and not Jumin. Well, it’s not like Jumin cared because as soon as he had heard Zen’s voice waking him up one night, he asked one of his guards to lock it up where he could never find it. Jaehee made a self note to ask the security guard where the alarm clock was so she could have it for herself. Last year, everyone was chaotic on Jumin’s birthday. That is why Jumin settled for a chill birthday party. There is no way he would let the RFA gather up again together for his birthday. Instead, the RFA members got to ask Jumin a series of questions in the chatrooms and he would answer them.

Having a relaxed and relatively free morning, gave Jumin the opportunity to stay in bed with you. He didn’t stay in very long considering he still had to leave for the office later on in the day. Jumin held you in his arms all morning. He adored your sleeping figure. There is nothing he would not give up just for you to be in his arms all day. The way he looked at you was like a thousand cherry blossom flowers had bloomed right in front of his face. His lips attached themselves to your face. Small and soft kisses were placed on your forehead, cheeks, nose, neck and lips. They weren’t meant to wake you up but just actions to show his affections towards you in that moment. When he saw a little stirr in your sleep, he paused from kissing you. “I hope I didn’t wake you, my love.” Without opening your eyes and getting blinded by the sunlight that peaked through the windows, you smiled and shook your head. “I was bound to wake up now anyway.” Jumin smiled and left another kiss on your lips. “Good morning, Mrs Han.” He chuckled; it’s been a while since you two got married but he couldn’t help but keep calling you your married name. It gave him a sense of calm. He knew you were his and his only. You were his beloved wife that he cherished. He always needed to remind himself of that. “Good morning to you too, Mr Han.” The two of you stayed in bed for a while. As Jumin rolled your body to where you were on top of him, you wrapped your arms around his warm body, taking all of his available body heat. Jumin kept his arms around your back tying you down to the bed. Kisses were shared between you two. To Jumin, kissing you was addicting. His lips could not leave you. It was pitiful when he had to leave for work, but he knew as soon as he got home, you were there to greet him with a loving kiss and a tight hug.

“My love, I believe it’s time for me to shower and get ready.” You didn’t want to move. You ran your hands through Jumin’s black fluffy bed hair and brought your lips onto his. The kiss was sensual, you let your hands roam his body and soft sighs fill his mind. “Are you trying to make me stay in bed?” Jumin pulled away from your embrace and held your hands in his to prevent them from roaming even more. “Is it working?” Jumin nodded and laughed. “I have already stayed in bed with you enough. Although, I don’t think I can ever get enough time with you. But I need to get ready for my only meeting today.” You sighed as you let yourself fall out of Jumin’s arms as he got up. “I’ll be back before 4, my love. Don’t worry, the meeting won’t be that long.”

Right as Jumin had headed into the bathroom, a chat room had started. Jumin grabbed his phone from his pocket and entered. “Mr Han. Happy birthday to you.” Jaehee congratulated Jumin. “That is the 325th time I heard that today. And here is my 325th answer of the day. ‘Thank you’”. Jumin paused before setting down his phone while preparing his shower. “Here is a question. ‘I usually think about the embarrassing things I did before or fall deep into thoughts as I take a shower. What kind of thoughts do you usually have during showers?’ Jumin chuckled. He didn’t want to tell his assistant what his real thoughts were during a shower so he played a joke on her. “They are different every day… but recently.. I have started to concentrate on the water in order to practice dark magic for beginners. I draw water marks in the shape of footprints with my telekinetic power.” Jumin had let out a little laugh as Jaehee had questioned his answer. “That was a jest. However, I’m afraid that I cannot provide details on the thoughts that run through my mind as I shower. A vast majority of them are private.” Jaehee acknowledged his answer before Jumin continued. “To give you a hint…. I usually think about what is mine. My company, my pet and…. my spouse…. That would be it.” Jumin made a note and left the chat room.

Jumin removed his night clothes and stepped into the shower. As he let the water fall onto his skin, Jumin let his mind run through the thoughts he mentioned just a second before. His company… He had a meeting with a director from another company today. If the meeting went well, he could invite the director to the next RFA party they held. His pet… He got up earlier this morning and fed Elizabeth before crawling back in bed with you. His spouse… The way your hands roamed around his body, caressing each side of him. Your lips on his, breathing slowly as you made out with him in bed. Your lips never left his but when they did, they traveled to his cheek, down to his neck, nibbling up to his ear, sighing softly. In that moment, you wanted each other, you had each other. Not that Jumin noticed but his hands replicated the same movements as yours did. His hands slid over his body slowly rubbing against his skin. The soap he held in his hand dropped, letting the sound caused upon intact on the ground draw him from his thoughts. Jumin was already touching himself. No wonder he felt good. His eyes that were previously shut were now wide open. The hand that was sliding up and down on his throbbing cock had sped up. He wanted you instead. "Are you okay? I heard something fall and.." You opened the door from the bathroom hearing the soap bar falling down and wondered if Jumin was okay. After the soap had fallen, you had heard a spewing of whimpers and groans. You wondered if the soap had fallen onto his foot. But that was not the case.

"Oh…" You had let out a small chuckle. Luckily, he wasn't hurt but the situation you had found him in was more or less than surprising. Jumin, to your knowledge, had never touched himself when he was alone. He preferred you to touch him, to satisfy his needs as he did the same to you. Jumin would always return the favor if you had made him finish. Give and take is what he called it.

Curious as to what made Jumin begin stroking himself, you took a look at his unlocked phone. Jumin froze within the moment. He was caught off guard for sure however, it didn't stop him from feeling more needy. Something about the thrill of being caught by you was even more exciting. As you scrolled through his past messages, you grinned. "Jumin, what is it that you are thinking about right now?" You set down his phone and started undressing yourself. Jumin let out a little gasp as you stepped in the shower with him. "I am thinking about you." You tilted your head, a sign for him to continue with his thoughts. "Your hands roaming on my body, your lips attached to mine. Your moans, your sighs, your-" His thoughts were cut off as you removed his hand from his hard dick and replaced it with yours. "Go on, what else." You smiled, this was the only time you were in charge. Though Jumin could easily take control and put you into submission, he'd rather not. He was enjoying the sensation you brought upon him. As you slowly started moving your hand up and down his hard-on, moans were released from Jumin's mouth. "Mmm only you could make me feel this way. As you are mine, I am yours. You make me feel so good." With deep sighs, Jumin closed his eyes shut, focusing on the way you stroked him in your hand. As quietly as you can, you kneeled to the floor of the shower and kissed the tip of his head. Only after getting a reaction out of him, you took him in your mouth. His eyes remained shut only now focusing on staying steady. "Jumin, look at me." You sternly said. "Focus on me and how you feel."

Jumin opened his eyes to meet yours. Lips wrapped around his cock, your tongue swirling around the base. He felt like he was in heaven. The warmth of the water still pouring down on the two of you only added to the sensations he was feeling. You were so good. He wanted to kiss you to seal his moans but he couldn't then. Jumin rarely cursed during the most passionate times however now was an exception. "You are doing so well for me, fuck, don't stop…" A flow of sighs, moans, and curses were drawn from him. The kind of broken moans that sent a heat wave straight between your legs. You shut your legs closed, the slight friction that you had gotten from the sudden movement made you moan around his length. Oh, you wanted him so bad. His cock started twitching in your mouth, his legs began to shake, his breath was uneasy, you knew he was about to release. You wanted to hear him cum. The unsteady breaths Jumin was letting out, only sent more heat to your core. His stomach muscles were flexing from the pending orgasm he was holding. Jumin was reactive to your every move. It was torturous for him to keep straining his release. He couldn't restrain himself anymore. Giving him a wink and a kitten lick to his tip, he released himself onto you. His white fluids dripped onto your chest, only to be washed away by the water when you stood back up. Your eyes looked right into his as you rose to your feet. "I was worried if something had dropped onto your feet and it hurt you, however it looks like I was the one to drop to my feet." Jumin looked away, disregarding your joke made to him.

"It seems I'll be running late to my meeting today because I want to return the favor you gave me." Almost as if on cue, you jumped and wrapped your legs around Jumin's waist as he caught you. You smiled at him as you two looked at each other. "You are so beautiful. You are the only gift I want." Jumin pinned you against the shower walls and kissed you breathless. Jumin's tongue won over yours as he entered your mouth. He began sucking on your bottom lip, traveling down to your neck and shoulders. He sucked harshly leaving marks behind as he moved to another spot. You are his. These marks reminded you, him, and everyone else that would see them of that. That is what he thought about in the shower. How he could make marks on you.

He always tried to keep his possession over you to a minimum. He wasn't perfect, he never was. It was hard to keep it under control when you had come to the penthouse the first time. Now that you were married to him, this was the way he could remind himself that there was no one to take you away from him. "Mine." Jumin mumbled as he pushed his length into you. It was sudden but the pain wasn't there. You shouted his name as he began to thrust in you. Rambles of his name flew out your mouth, moaning when he had bit onto your shoulder. Your sex was trembling and clenching onto his throbbing cock inside of you. You felt so full yet you wanted more. His hands that were already keeping you steady on him traveled to your ass as he grabbed onto it. "Scream my name. I'm the one who can make you feel good." Jumin whispered into your ear. You were sensitive, all the simulations around you made you shiver from his breath near your ear. You screamed Jumin as you locked on him tighter. Your legs gripped onto his waist tightened as you came. The sweat and fluids you had released washed away by the shower still running. You looked down at the marks Jumin had left onto your chest then glanced back up at him. "So these are your shower thoughts? I should join you in the shower more often." Jumin chuckled before leaning in to give you a gentle kiss. "Unless it's after work, don't dare to. I will be late to work everyday with you in here with me." Jumin placed another kiss onto your forehead before washing the two of you up. He knew he was well beyond late for the meeting but he didn't mind. The more time spent with his wife on a special day, the better.

[alaynes-writings]

You’re my home

Summary: Reader and Paul are in love with each other without being able to admit it. Duncan tries to talk reader into confessing their feelings and Paul notices something is off.

Pairing: Paul Atreides x reader (gender neutral)

A/N: Almost 2k words again! This has been sitting in my drafts for two weeks now and I was finally able to finish it. Don’t worry, I’m still working on the requests, hopefully I’ll be able to upload another one till  Monday. Enjoy!

                                                               ---

It had been a long day. The sun was already setting, but you were too tired to watch the shades of gold and red on the horizon. You sat next to Paul on the ship, a bit away from his parents and the guards so you two could talk in private. You didn’t remember drifting off to sleep, your head resting on Paul’s shoulder, his coat draped over you to keep you warm, even though you insisted that you weren’t that cold.

When Duncan came to the back to tell you both that you’d be landing soon he found you like that. Paul had fallen asleep soon after you, his head resting on top of yours.

He shook his head fondly, deciding to give you a few more minutes.

“The kids are asleep.”, he told the Duke and Leto Atreides chuckled as he turned around to look at his son.

“Tough day for them, hm?”

Duncan huffed. “I bet they just stayed up too late the other night.”

As he watched the two of you he wondered if you were aware of each others feelings. It was obvious to everyone who saw you together. It was obvious in the way Paul looked at you, how gentle and soft he was with you. It was obvious in the way your smile brightened when you saw him and how you would always stay close to him. Yet neither of you had ever acted like you were more than friends. Duncan had noticed this years ago, but decided to just give it time, sooner or later one of you would surely confess their feelings. But that hadn’t been the case.

A few weeks before, Paul had come to him to talk about dreams he kept having. It wasn’t new to Duncan that he had those strange dreams, only this time they were about you. About losing you. Paul had been so distraught, Duncan was barely able to calm him down. He thought that maybe this would bring him to see how he felt for you, to finally talk to you, but he didn’t. Duncan had noticed that this was still troubling Paul, he was distracted during training and throughout the day. Only when he was with you he seemed happy and free again, even though Duncan noticed his slightly more protective behavior towards you.

Maybe, he thought, maybe it was time to talk to you instead and maybe give you a little push into the right direction.

                                                           ---

Duncan had always been a very straight forward person and you didn’t mind. You had known him all your life, he was not only the swordmaster of the Atreides family and Paul’s teacher but also a friend to you. He also trained you occasionally and you liked that he was never one to beat around the bush, but this question caught you off guard.

“What is this between you and Paul?”

You stopped arranging the weapons on the table, looking up at him. “What do you mean?”

He huffed. “Don’t act like you don’t know what I’m talking about. I’ve kept quiet for a long time, but to be honest it’s almost getting annoying to watch you keeping up this charade.”

“I still don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I’m talking about the fact that you are in love with each other.”

You looked down again, suddenly very interested in the sword that was laying in front of you.

“I know you’re a very attentive man Duncan, but I’m afraid that this time you are interpreting too much into this. Paul and I are just friends.”

“Friends!”, he laughed. “I don’t treat my friends like that. And neither does Paul. He loves you!”

You knew he meant well, you knew it wasn’t his intention to hurt your feelings, but you swallowed hard, fighting back the tears that started forming in your eyes.

“Don’t say that, Duncan.”, you said quietly.

“Why do you deny it?”, he asked. “Why are you so focused on ignoring what’s right in front of you? Surely you must have noticed the way he looks at you.”

“Well then, how does he look at me?”, you asked, now angry he wouldn’t simply drop the topic.

“Like you’re the center of his universe.”

He said it simply, like it was a fact everyone knew. Like it wasn’t something that would turn your whole world upside down. You didn’t know what to say and you two stood there in silence for a few moments, before Duncan spoke again.

“Do you love him?”, he asked.

“I think you already know the answer to that question.”

“Then why do you still act like there’s nothing more?”

You laughed bitterly. “What do you think, Duncan? There would be no future for us. If, and just if, Paul would feel the same for me, where would it lead? One day he will have to marry and that person has to have a higher rank than me. I’m never gonna marry a Duke. So why would I destroy what we have now? Wouldn’t that be selfish?”

Now you couldn’t hold back the tears anymore. “Please don’t talk to me about it again Duncan. Just… just let me have him for as long as I can.”

His expression softened at your tears and he slowly approached you to pull you into a hug.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t want to hurt you. It’s just… so frustrating from the outside. You two are inseparable.”

He was right. It had always been like this, you and Paul. Inseparable since the day you met. Something just always felt right when you were with him. Of course you had noticed when your feelings had grown into more than just friendship, but the fear of losing him had always held you back from acting on them.

“I know you meant well, Duncan.”

He sighed and patted your shoulder. “Alright, I will not talk to you about it again. Just… just think about what I said.”

You nodded and even managed to give him a small smile so he knew you weren’t angry with him.

But that was definitely enough tough talk for today, so you decided to go back to your chambers to rest and clear your mind again.

As you walked through the corridors, still thinking about your talk with Duncan, you noticed too late that Paul was approaching you. He looked happy to see you, speeding up his step, but his smile faltered as he took in your expression.

“What’s wrong?”, he asked, concern in his eyes as he wrapped his arms around you. You couldn’t help but laugh.

“Sometimes I hate that, you know? That you can read me like a book.”

He chuckled and brushed a few hairs that had fallen in your face behind your ear. He had always been able to tell when something wasn’t right. If you were happy or sad, if something was troubling you or if you were trying to keep something from him. It was like he could see right through you and you didn’t know if it was his Bene Gesserit training or simply the fact that he had known you for so long.

“So tell me, who’s making you sad?”, he asked again, softly.

“Why does it have to be a ‘who’?”, you asked, trying to avoid answering his question.

“Just guessing.”

He wasn’t pressuring you to answer and for a few moments he just looked at you, patiently waiting for you to share your thoughts. You wondered what would happen if you told him that you loved him. If Duncan was right, if he loved you too. But the fear of losing him was stronger and so you simply wrapped your arms around him and buried your head in the crook of his neck.

Paul tightened his arms around you, one of his hands wandering up to stroke your hair. You stayed like this for a few minutes, comfortable in each others silence.

“You know how much you mean to me, right?”, he suddenly murmured. “How important you are to me? I just want you to be happy.”

You lifted your head a little to look at him and even you could see the affection in his eyes. Like you’re the center of his universe. The words echoed through your mind as you got lost in his eyes and you wondered if you looked at him that way too, if he could see it in your eyes, how much you truly loved him.

“I am happy. I’m always happy when I’m with you.” You said it without thinking, the words just escaping you before you could stop them.

You were rewarded with a smile, that sweet, bright smile that made your heart flutter in your chest.

“Besides, I’m more worried about your happiness than my own.”, you quickly added.

His brows furrowed in confusion.

“I know your dreams have gotten worse. I respect that you don’t want to talk about it, but don’t think I didn’t notice.” Of course you had noticed. You didn’t have the skills of a Bene Gesserit, but you had known him long enough to be able to see when his dreams were haunting him. You hated that you could only do so little to help him with that.

“I didn’t want you to worry.”, he admitted. “It’s just...”

He trailed off, lost for words as he took a deep breath. It seemed to be very difficult for him to talk about it, as if even thinking about it was painful. His eyes were suddenly filled with fear and he swallowed hard before he was able to speak again, his voice nothing more than a whisper.

“Please never leave me.”

Your eyes widened in surprise at his words. You didn’t understand where this was coming from, how he could ever think that you’d even consider leaving him, but there was a vulnerability in his voice that made your heart ache. What kind of horrible dream must he have had to think you could do such a thing?

“Where would I go without you?”, you whispered back softly. “You’re my home.”

It wasn’t exactly an I love you. But maybe it didn’t have to be. Paul raised his hands to cup your cheek and pressed a soft kiss to your forehead.

Your eyes fluttered close at the tender gesture and your chest felt too tight with all the emotions you were holding back.

“You’re my home too.”, he murmured.

It wasn’t exactly an I love you too. But maybe that was enough for now. Maybe it could be enough to just know how deeply you cared for each other. One day you had to tell him, you thought to yourself. But not today.

[forever-rogue]

hi! if you’re accepting requests from prompt list #2, does angst to fluff count lol. 5 from angst, 49 from fluff lists! with reader thinking din loves someone else 🥺 i like mando x omera but.. reader who perhaps doesnt have the skills omera has and sees how din looks at her… THE ANGST 😌🤌

AN | Me, writing some Din? It’s been a hot minute, but here we are. I miss him 🥺

Warnings | None

Pairing | Din x Fem!Reader

Masterlist | Din, Main

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

A small sigh, a wistful little thing, escaped your lips as you studied the gently lapping water of the lake. It was calm here, a peaceful, tranquil place that served as a welcome refuge after all that you'd been through in the last few years. Sometimes it seemed almost too good to be true. The distant sounds of laughter met your ears as children ran around and played, carefree as could be. Sometimes you wished you were that young again; innocent to life’s darker sides. Unfortunately that wasn’t a possibility, but for now you’d take the peace and stillness you could get.

Pulling off your boots and socks, you quickly tossed them to the side. The water was warm as you relaxed and leaned back, closing your eyes and soaking up the warmth of the summer sun. It wasn’t until you heard the familiar voice that your eyes slowly snapped back opened. Your heart constricted slightly as you spotted Din nearby speaking to Omera. He seemed so happy, in a much better mood than you’d seen in a long time. It was all her, and you remained invisible. Which, when it came to most things wasn’t too bad, but sometimes you wished he would see you.

“Is somebody jealous?” you hadn’t even heard the bounty hunter walk over; you supposed that’s one of the many reasons he was the best in the galaxy. Boba offered a small grimace before sitting down next to you. You shrugged him off staring back into the water. You were not about to get into anything with Boba; that man was insufferable and usually right.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you brushed him off, trying desperately not to look back at Din. Instead, you focused on the water and watched the tiny fish whiz through the water; a few of them brushed by your feet, sending a ticklish shiver up your spine, “I’m just...enjoying the calm afternoon sun and soaking up as much peace before we inevitably leave again.”

“That’s how this all works,” Boba sighed as you nodded in agreement, “you knew that from the day you became my apprentice.”

“I know,” you whispered, “but I hoped at one point I could...walk away and have a normal life. Like this.”

“Normal is all relative,” he had a point as you huffed lightly and stood up, brushing off your pants and reaching for your boots, “but if this is what you want, what you truly want, you know you’re welcome to leave whenever. I would not hold you back from the life you wanted.”

“I know, Boba,” you put your hand on his shoulder and gave it a light squeeze, “the problem is that I don’t really know what I want...I think I know but...it’s more than that.”

“Of course,” he agreed, casting a quick glance at the object of your affections before turning back to you, “I’m sure you’ll figure it out.”

“Either way, it will work out, just as it always does,” you swallowed the lump that had welled up in your throat, “Boba, why are you doing this?”

“I just want to make sure you’re happy - that you know that you have choices in what you’re doing,” he said like it was no big deal, but to you it meant so much. This hardened, sometimes gruff man really did have a heart of gold underneath it all, “should you want to part ways, I would understand. Should you want to stay, I’d be more than happy to have you with me. I don’t know what the future holds for myself, Fennec, or Djarin, but you know it will not always be easy. But sometimes you have to decide what’s most important.”

“Yes,” you answered softly, “thank you, Boba.”

He remained silent as you laced up your boots before padding away, back towards the village. You knew you had a lot to think about and if you wanted things to change at all, you’d have to figure out something. You cast a glance over your shoulder and you were almost positive that you’d spotted Din looking in your direction. But it was all a trick of the mind; it had to be. Why would he spare you more than a passing thought anyways?

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

It was late by the time he found you; much later than any reasonable person should have been outside, but you couldn’t sleep. There was too much on your mind to silence, and if you managed to, it was short-lived and another thought came to replace the previous one. Eventually you’d given up and wandered out of the small hut home that had been acting as your own home for the last couple of months. You knew the area was safe and wanted to enjoy the temperate night air before it turned to a crisp fall breeze, or worse - you’d be gone.

Small bugs chirped happily along with the soft songs of nightbirds as you walked around the sleeping village; you weren’t scared here, you felt safe and at home. But as you rounded a corner, a gloved hand reached out and grabbed your wrist. A small yelp of surprise left your lips as you pulled into a wall of cool metal - beskar.

“Shhh,” Din placed a finger to his lips as you relaxed when you realized it was him, “you’ll wake everyone up. It’s just me.”

“Dank Farrik!” you hissed at him, “how was I supposed to know that? You could have been a murderer!”

“Well….you should be in bed sleeping.”

“So should you!” your arms crossed over your chest as you stared him down, and eventually he huffed in defeat, realizing you were right. He couldn’t sleep either, plagued by the choices he knew that he had to make sooner rather than later. He hadn’t expected you to be out as well, “what are you doing anyway?”

“Couldn’t sleep,” he admitted, scratching the back of his neck nervously, a flash of...something in his dark eyes, “I thought that some fresh air would clear my head.”

“Same here,” you admitted reluctantly, leaving the two of you in an awkward silence. You wished you had enough bravery (or perhaps even stupidity) in your body to just say something to him then and there. At least it would be out of the way; but you weren’t feeling anything but nervous butterflies fluttering in your tummy, “I...umm...I guess I’ll get back. Try and sleep.”

“Hey-” he reached for your arm gently before you could get too far away. You turned around and raised an eyebrow as he opened and closed his mouth a few times, “d-did I do something wrong?”

“What? What are you talking about?” the question caught you off guard, but judging by the look on his face, you could sense that this was something he had been thinking for some time.

“You’ve been different lately...it almost feels like you’re avoiding me.”

“Oh DIn, you’re being ridiculous,” and yet the accusation was very true.

“You’re fine around Boba, Fennec...everyone else. But every time I’m around it feels like you can’t wait to get away,” you should have known that he would have noticed sooner or later. The man was more observant than you’d cared to admit, “if I did something, please tell me.”

“You can’t be serious, Djarin. There’s nothing wrong…”

“Then why have you been avoiding me?”

“I haven’t been doing anything. You’ve got too much free time and your mind is running wild.”

“Tell me it’s not true then.”

“Din-”

“Tell me.”

“The problem is that you’re in love with someone else,” the words were out of your mouth before you even contemplated them. You were mortified and in some ways you were relieved. At least it was all out in the open now and you were able to let the chips land where they may.

“Oh,” was his only response as his head tilted to the side and he looked at you in confusion, “what?”

“I...kriff,” you sighed, “I shouldn’t have said that. Sorry - forget I said anything.”

“Who am I in love with?”

“What do you mean?” tears welled up in your eyes at his response; almost like a cruel joke, “you know, everyone knows! Omera; and why wouldn’t you be? She’s wonderful - kind, smart, beautiful … everything. Part of me wants to dislike her, but I can’t because she’s such a good person but it kills me a little bit to know that you love her and you’ll never even think twice about me. I know that’s super selfish but it’s the way I feel; and judging from how this is going I think I’m making the right decision by leaving. By myself.”

Din said nothing as a few tears rolled down your cheeks. You laughed bitterly at yourself before realizing that this might have been the best decision after all. You couldn’t stay after this.

It wasn’t long before Din came to his senses and ran after you, calling your name and catching up with a few easy strides. You came to a reluctant stop as you sniffled and waited for him to say something, despite the fact that you weren’t sure you wanted to hear whatever he had to say.

“I-I-I’m not in love with Omera,” he insisted as it became your turn to look at him in bewilderment, “I’m in love with you.”

“What?”

“I’ve been talking to her about you,” he confessed, “about how to do...this sort of thing. But then you started avoiding me and I wondered if maybe I’d read the signs wrong and you didn’t like me at all. At least not in that way.”

“I don’t….what?” you heard his words but weren’t able to fully comprehend them. This had to be some sort of weird fever dream. Din sighed - his trademark sigh - before ripping off his gloves and gently putting his hands on the sides of your face. He was hesitant at first, to see if you would stop him. But you didn’t...instead you relished in his touch, the feel of his bare skin on yours sending electric shivers throughout your whole body.

After a few moments of quietly studying your features, he leaned in and slowly pressed his lips against yours. It wasn’t a proper kiss by any means, hardly more than a ghost of one, but it felt...strangely wonderful. You looked at him in disbelief as he pulled back; was this really the same man that you’d met all that time ago that wouldn’t even tell anyone his name or let them see his face?

“Oh.”

“Can we go inside?” he whispered softly, “can we talk?”

“Yeah,” you agreed gently. He reached for your hand but before he could take it in his, you stopped him and pressed another sweet, barely there kiss to his lips. A tinge of pink colored his cheeks as you beamed at him, “now we can go.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

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[madametrashbin]

Blissful Relief

Modern Day life is stressful (no one can tell me otherwise), and as someone who will practically deflate upon suddenly having nothing to do and nothing important going on in the future (because being isekai'd means all regular world plans for life are cancelled), I will not hesitate to sleep like the dead because I'm not on a tight schedule now.

(Two posts in a Day?? What have I become?!)

A.K.A, I make an excuse to write a Lazy Nocturnal God!Darling who will abuse the cult pampering system... because that is what I would do without hesitation when I’m free from Modern Day duties that eat away at my health and sanity bit by bit with every hour I spend working like a mindless zombie from dawn to dusk, juggling home life that is filled with bothersome troubles that never change.

I’m also a night owl, caused by both insomnia and because it is the quietest hour that I cannot help but want to relish in since my life is filled with so much loud noise it gives me daily migraines... but of course, habits are formed from repetition and I will always wake up at 4-6am like a dumbass thus suffer the consequences the next morning.

Uhh... and I guess there might be OOC stuff?? Characterization who? Also Self-Indulgent again?? Super Self-Indulgent??? Letmeenjoysleepingandbeinganocturnalcreatureplease--

Morning tends to consist of Zhongli coming into your room, leaving the tray of breakfast he prepared on the coffee table near the sofa in your room before he walks over to kneel beside the bed where you're happily dozing off on, a hand moving to gently rest on the small of your back to rub small circles with his thumb. He’s softly smiling the whole time, looking at you with such adoration and fondness with how relaxed you were. As much as he wants to let you sleep in, he knows what would happen if a mortal body doesn’t move that much on a daily basis.

He'll try get you to wake up without being too loud, and if you ask for affection (kisses in particular, because I’m an affection and touch starved bastard), he will give it to you without hesitation and pepper your face in adoring kisses before carrying you off to the sofa so you could eat. He will feed you himself if you’re still too sluggish.

Will also put you in his lap if you’re nodding off, mostly to prevent you from hurting yourself (and because he enjoys the close proximity, if you allow it).

On rare occasions, Childe will be the one to wake you up in the morning instead whenever Zhongli is busy, letting you snuggle in bed a while longer if you want a few extra minutes before smothering you in his affections as he whisks you off from bed to get ready for the day and drop you off in the kitchen where breakfast is waiting on the table.

He will feed you himself if you're still drowsy, looking at you while cooing as though you are the most precious little thing this world has ever given life to (and to be fair, you are the most precious person to him with his family).

Will give you more cheek kisses if you’re still half-asleep, or in-between spoonfuls as a way to let you know you’re doing great... and because why not. It’s a rare moment to have, since Zhongli does hog a lot of your time.

Noon/Afternoon usually has Venti to keep watch over you if you ever choose to nap somewhere random around the teapot outdoors, or somewhere out in the wilds of Teyvat where the weather is just right and the surroundings are generally quiet. If you were outside of the teapot, you’d also have either Kaeya, Xiao or Kazuha to accompany the two of you depending on where you are for extra protection (per Zhongli’s safety precaution).

Venti will hum a song, and maybe strum a calming tune while you nap, happily basking in the gentle breeze and warm sunlight as the day goes by in a very peaceful and quiet manner. If lunch time comes around, he’ll try to wake you up as gently as possible, but finds it difficult to disturb you when you look so comfortable and peaceful right now. (And usually, this has you missing out on lunch if Zhongli is too busy to check up on you. Don't worry though, he'll make sure the packed lunch is empty before the old man drops by and that you did eat something.)

Kaeya will take the chance to cuddle with you, usually keeping you between his legs while you're using his chest as a pillow as your head is tucked in the crook of his neck. He's going to keep a loose hold on you, arms wrapped around your waist while occasionally shifting in case you're uncomfortable. He's smiling the whole time because you're so cute when you sleep like this. (Will occasionally give you kisses on the crown of your head if you don't mind it. Man wants to spoil you with so much love if you allow him to.)

Xiao is 100% attentive to all things in the surrounding, wanting to keep you safe from all potential dangers and will not relax while you're in such a vulnerable state. He will, however, melt when you sleepily call for his name while lazily reaching for him in such a lazy, but cute manner. Just like that, he's right by your side, asking for whatever you need. He's still on guard, but whatever you need, he will be there to provide... kisses and snuggles included, even if he’s struggling to be open about it. 

Kazuha would be smiling serenely, occasionally brushing the hair off your face if it gets in the way of giving you proper sleep. He would take care of problems that may arise before it reaches you, and if you ever have trouble trying to be comfortable, he’ll let you lay your head on his lap while he gently pets your head in such a soothing manner that the nap turns into full on sleep... his legs might go numb, but he just couldn’t wake you up when you looked so peaceful sleeping right there.

Sayu will always accompany you when you’re in Inazuma, mostly because she could find an excuse to sleep with you around when you are getting ready to nap. She’ll be quick to defend you though, because if you get hurt, she’ll lose that excuse and she’ll struggle to find peace to sleep for a while without having people tailing after her.

Dusk/Evening you’re decently awake (or rather, barely awake), Zhongli’s not letting you sleep anymore until later into the night. Ei would keep you company, the time when it’s not so busy for her as things settle down and allow her to spend time with you. She’s honestly just internally squealing when you end up holding onto her hand or sleeve if you’re too groggy to walk by yourself and properly guide your own feet.

Sometimes the Kamisato Clan would be the ones to accompany you, per Ei/Raiden Shogun’s orders. Ayaka used to be on-guard (because how did someone who was barely standing on their own two feet turn the Raiden Shogun into some excitable puppy??) when she first met you, but she got over it after realizing you’re not a bad person after spending enough time with you to see it.

Thoma sometimes coddles you, knowing well enough that you were just tired from the stress of the daily life you used to have when you told him once during a day when he was left to take care of you... He does his best to make sure you were enjoying yourself in the city, keeping a watchful eye in case you’d trip on your own feet.

On rare occasions when even the Kamisato Clan is busy, Kujou Sara would be the one to care for you... as foreign as it was in the beginning, because you’re so idle and pretty sluggish most of the time, but she grew to find these times relaxing. Of course, she is ever watchful for all problems, and when you were awake enough, would be helpful with your foreknowledge if you do remember everything well enough.

When Night falls upon Teyvat, you are fully awake, if only for a while until you grow exhausted again. In these moments, they would all try to spend time with you and gain more of your attention... but aside from that, you would often take strolls on Watatsumi Island, if only because you do sincerely enjoy the scenery the island had during the night... but other times, you would either take a stroll at Starsnatch Cliff or Qingce Village.

Kokomi would be with you, walking alongside you while she admires the sight of your relaxed, fully awake expressions that mostly appears at night. She would keep each of these moments to her heart, knowing that if her God loved Watatsumi as it is, then all her efforts into protecting it was worth it... plus, there was something nice just knowing a God like you enjoying the natural sight of her home while taking a nightly stroll.

Gorou trails behind you like a puppy, basking in the attention you give him and will always be ready to defend you. When you talk, he is absolutely silent, wanting to hear your voice in its more clearer form. He will not be happy if someone interrupts you, definitely will snarl at them if you don’t keep him in check... but aside from that, he will stick close to your side while you’re at Watatsumi Island as your guard with Kokomi.

Diluc will be by your side during the night when you’re in Mondstadt, always looking away when your gaze is directed towards him but otherwise would observe you closely... since he often sees you when you weren’t fully awake. He enjoys seeing this side of you more, and while he does find your sleepy self to be adorable, he likes knowing that you’re aware of everything... It gives him a peace of mind when you do acknowledge his efforts.

Midnight rings clear into the night, the clarity of your mind would return into its sleepy state. You would return back to the Teapot and get ready for bed, tucked in comfortably by one of your acolytes before you slumber until morning rises once more and repeat your day... Sometimes, if you’ve relaxed enough, you might be fully awake for the whole day.

Of course, that is a rare moment that might not always happen, but if you were truly awake for a whole day, none of your acolytes are going to miss this chance and might fight to have your full attention if you don’t give them the satisfactory amount, unless you put your foot down and make sure they behave. 

Aside from that, your cult will always be there for you, ready to take care of you and give you all the affection you want.

[darkmulti]

hi, can you write yandere! bts reaction to you slapping them in an argument please?

⚠️: Yandere!BTS, slapping, implied smut, manipulation

-> sorry for any mistakes

»»———————————- ♔ -———————————««

Jin

Jin was once again, being narrow minded. “It was for work, Jin! I wasn’t working with him for fun, it’s our job. I can’t believe you punched him in the face. You embarrassed me in front of everyone!”

“Great! If you’re embarrassed, quit your job! So you never have to see them again!

“I’m not quitting! You can get that out of your head! I would leave you before quitting-” a hard slap cut you off. You instinctively covered your stinging cheek and took a step back. You were in a state of shock. Yes, you and Jin had petty arguments here and there but they never got physical. By the end of the day, you guys worked it out. However, after he laid his hand on you, you knew it was over. You looked up at him and slapped him right back. “Fuck you! We’re over.”

You turned around and ran upstairs to your shared bedroom. This house was under Jin’s name so it was you who has to go. You grabbed your suitcase and started packing all your clothes. Jin rushed into the shared room and pulled your suitcase away. He dumped all the clothes on the ground and threw the suitcase across the room.

“You’re not fucking leaving! Hang up all these clothes. Stop overreacting like a pathetic little bitch.”

You scoff and get off the floor. “I’m a ‘pathetic little bitch’?! Says my insecure husband.”

“You won’t be able to survive without me. No other man would be able to spoil you like I do. I’ve given you the high life, now obey me in return.”

“I’m not your slave, I don’t have to fucking listen to you.”

“Do you pay the bills in this house?! Do you buy the groceries?! Do you pay for insurance?! No? Then, shut up. You wouldn’t have anything if it weren’t for me. You’d probably be living on the streets if I didn’t take you in. I was the one who made sure you got that job because I knew it would make you happy. If it weren’t for me, those guys would’ve laughed in your face, Y/N. All you do is go to work, flirt with your co-workers and act all big shot around me. The least you could do is respect me and our relationship.” With that, he slammed the door shut, leaving you alone while you questioned your worth.

Yoongi

It started off as a calm and quiet evening but as soon as your phone vibrated, it quickly changed.

You began working for a new company and your new boss has been up your ass. He treats you like a personal assistant and it was pissing you off. You noticed that you were the only one who was being treated like this and it angered you. Once you’re clocked out, you don’t like to be disturbed unless it’s urgent. But your boss doesn’t seem to understand that and asks you to do work while your clocked out. You obviously refuse because why should you do work if you’re not getting paid?

Anyways, he’s always texting you about how to do different kinds of paper work, who’s working, who’s not working, how to hire people, ect — he should know how to do all of it because he’s the boss. When your off work, he’s texting you ever 10-15 minutes, asking for help. You’re tired of it, but can’t really do anything about it. You can’t quit just yet because you’re trying to prove to your boyfriend that you don’t need him to survive.

Yoongi has always underestimated you. Man literally thinks that you’re dumb. One night, you both got into a heated argument and he told you that you wouldn’t be alive if it weren’t for him. The very next day, you went to a bunch of job interviews and got hired on that same day.

It’s been two weeks at your new job and ever since, your phone is always blowing up thanks to your boss. Even at 10pm, your boss is texting you about work. Yoongi became annoyed because you were always on your phone. You guys got into another argument about this so now, you hide your phone from him so he can’t see the notifications.

Ever since then, things have been a little better. Tonight was movie night and you foolishly had your phone in your hand. Throughout the movie, your phone was lighting up and vibrating multiple times and a Yoongi was tired of it.

“Who the hell are you texting now?!” He snatched your phone out of your hands and when he saw that it was your boss, he threw your phone against the wall. “I told you to block that man! Yet, you go against me and continue to text him! Are you sleeping with him? Are you cheating on me with him?!” He screamed, making your heart leap out of your chest.

You didn’t say anything. Instead you ran to the door. You didn’t want to deal with him anymore. You deserved better. You tried to leave but he slammed the door on your fingers and pulled you back inside. You slapped his face and tried leaving again but he grabbed your hair and pulled you down to the basement.

“You made me do this to you. I warned you plenty of times to stay off your phone but do you listen to me? No. I’ve given you too much freedom and now you don’t know how to behave. That stops now.”

Hoseok

“Get up. Boss wants to see you.” The guards said, pulling you up by your arms and dragging you out of the cell. “Boss my asshole. Who does he think he is? Kidnapping me for no good reason. I just wanted coffee and now I’m god knows where!” The guard chuckles at your bratty behaviour. “Just a little advice, don’t talk to boss like that. He’ll blow your brains out.”

“Shut up, muscle head. Don’t tell me what to do.” The guard stops and aims a gun at your head. “Do it muscle head. Your boss will be so proud of you.” You said sarcastically. “Shut your mouth and keep walking. I may not be allowed to kill you but I can still still hurt you — really badly.”

“Are you threatening me muscle head?” You turn around, ready to scrap with the guard. He may be a lot bigger than you, but you’re a lot smarter and clever.

“Hey, hey, do we have a problem here?” A familiar voice interrupted. You turn around and your heart drops when you see his face. “No, boss. She’s just refusing to-”

“Hoseok?” You cut the guard off and step back. “Oh, so you still remember me?” He smirks and walks towards you but you keep walking back. “What do you want from me?”

“Isn’t the answer obvious? I want you back.”

“No! I broke up with you because you’re crazy. Leave me alone now. I’m a different person. I’m not the same Y/N that you manipulated and controlled. I left her behind. Now let me go!”

Hoseok cornered you. There was no where to run. “Are you sure that you left her behind? You’re claiming that you changed but you’re still very naive, darling.”

His words made your blood boil. Hoseok mentally and emotionally abused you. With the help of therapy, you were able to pick up and put your broken self together. You thought that you’ve become a stronger person, but as soon as you saw his face, your confidence was washed away.

“I- I told you, I’m different now!” You tried to sound brave, but your facial expression sold you out. Hoseok wasn’t dumb; he knew you were scared shitless. “So, show me that your a different person. How will you escape me this time, darling?” He traps you in between his arms and leans in close to your face. In a panic, you slapped him across the face and made a run for it.

You somehow managed to get out of his large mansion, but Hoseok was running after you the whole time. You tried losing him at sharp turns and big crowds, but he was right on your ass. You saw a security guard and bolted towards him. “Sir, sir! There’s a- a man...” you said, to catch your breath, “a man chasing me. He kidnapped me. Please, I need your help.”

“That’s enough darling.” Hoseok caught up to you and without a second thought, you hid behind the security guard. “Sir, please! Arrest this man! He kidnapped me!”

The security guard was ready to take action until he saw the man’s face. “M-mr. Jung?! Sir, I had no idea that she was running from you! Sir, I’m so sorry! Please forgive me!” The guard grabbed your arm and pushed you to Hoseok.

The commotion had everyone watching. The security guard was on his knees with his hands interlocked together. “Please spare my family and I. Mr. Jung it was an honest mistake.”

“What the hell?” You quietly muttered. “You see that, darling. Everyone is afraid of me. So you can run all you want, but you can never ever hide from me.”

Namjoon

After a long week of work, your husband wanted to treat you to dinner. You’ve both been extremely busy due to your hectic schedule and it’s caused you both to drift apart. The only time you see Namjoon is in the morning and before going to bed.

It was Friday evening and you were getting ready for date night. You wore a gorgeous dress that was somewhat revealing but you were fine with it. You just wanted to look good for your husband.

You both agreed to meet at the restaurant and when Namjoon saw you, his jaw dropped. He possessively wrapped his arm around your waist and guided you to your private table. It was outside on a balcony. You guys had an ocean view, the weather was perfect and the stars were out. It was super romantic.

The date was perfect until the waiter started checking you out. Namjoon was visibly annoyed by the waiter but kept it to himself until he left. “Why did you have to wear that dress? Are you doing this on purpose? So other guys can check you out?” You were taken back by his questions. “No, I wore this dress for you, not for some random men.”

Namjoon scoffed and bit the inside of his cheek. “When will you stop lying?” He mumbled, but you were able to pick it up. “I’m not lying, Joon. And quite frankly, I’m hurt that you think I’m doing this for other men. You’re making me feel bad about myself.”

You got up and left but he followed behind. You walked out of the restaurant and got into your car. You drove back home without giving Namjoon a second glance. Once you arrived home, Namjoon pulled up next to your car. You both entered the house in silence.

Namjoon’s phone began ringing so, he went upstairs to answer it. After tidying the house, you went upstairs and overheard his conversation. “We could’ve had a wonderful night, but my wife doesn’t know how to dress.”

Now, he’s pissed you off. You slam open the room door, grab his phone and hang up. “Do you enjoy putting your own wife down?! Do you enjoy humiliating her?! I wore this dress for you! I wanted to look good for you! I wanted you to complement me and tell me I look pretty but instead you slut shame me!”

Out of anger, you slap him across the face. “I want a divorce. I’m not staying with someone who made me feel like complete shit. You can keep this house, I don’t want anything from you.”

Namjoon looked down and started to laugh. His laugh gradually got louder and it started to creep you out. You took a couple steps away from him but he noticed and grabbed your wrist. “You want a divorce? So you can go back to that restaurant and gets that waiters number? Over my dead body. You’re never leaving me. If I have to hurt you, I will.”

Jimin

“Jimin! Stop it! You’re overreacting!”

Jimin dragged you out of his friends house and pushed you into the car, creating a scene. Everyone was watching him degrade you for not wearing your wedding ring.

“You forgot?! What kind of wife do I have?! Are you dumb?! How could you forgot to wear your wedding ring?! That ring shows everyone that you’re mine!”

Jimin was full on screaming in your face and you couldn’t handle it. You broke down crying into your hands. “I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to hurt you! It truly wasn’t my intention.” You were beyond terrified. You didn’t want to go home because you knew he would punish you. Even though he humiliated in front of everyone, you’d rather stay around people than go home and be alone with him.

You were about to go down on your knees until he slapped you and dragged you along. You tried getting out of his grip and in the process you accidentally slapped him. It wasn’t a hard slap or anything, you were just trying to get away. But of course, Jimin made it a big deal.

“First, you forgot your wedding ring; second, you flirted with all my friends and now, you slapped me?! Why don’t you want to leave, huh?! Who are you sleeping with?! Who are you trying to replace me with?!”

“No one! I didn’t mean to slap you! I’m sorry!” You were crying your eyes out. You’ve never seen Jimin this aggravated. You were afraid of what he might do to you so, you gave in because you didn’t want to worsen your punishment. He pushed you into the car and slammed the door shut. Throughout the car ride, his hand squeezed your thigh.

“You don’t even know what’s coming your way. Just wait till we get home” He muttered, causing your heart to drop into your stomach.

Taehyung

“Taehyung! Let me go! People are going to notice that I’m missing! You can’t keep me here forever!” You yelled, banging on the metal door.

It was your foolish mistake; trying to break up with him at his house. The moment you told him you want to part ways, he grabbed you and pushed you into the basement. Of course you fought back, but miserably lost against him. Now it was a game of waiting. Waiting for someone to notice your presence missing.

- 3 days later -

It been a couple days and you’re still locked in the basement. There was no clock or a window so you couldn’t keep track of time. Taehyung hadn’t come downstairs to check on you either. You were starving and living off the bathroom tap water. You were lying on the ground, looking lifeless when the heavy metal doors opened.

“Are you done playing your childish games?” Taehyung asked, crossing his arms. “You should be asking yourself that question, Taehyung. I’m not playing any games. I’m serious when I say I want out of this relationship.”

Taehyung closed the doors and walked towards you. He grabbed your shirt and pulled you close to his face. “All the years we spent together, you wanna throw it all away, angel?”

You turn your head away from him, avoiding his dark orbs. Taehyung noticed you avoiding his eyes so he pushed you against the wall and leaned in close to your face. “Look at me when I talk to you, angel. Or are you scared?” You were on the verge of tears but you didn’t want to appear weak in front of him. You looked him straight in the eyes and muttered, “get away from me.”

“You don’t tell me what to do, angel...” he grabbed your ear and tugged on it, “I’m your master. You listen to me.” His deep voice sent chills down your spine. You were close to dropping on your knees and submitting to him out of fear. But you didn’t. You couldn’t show him that you’re weak. “Taehyung, I’m serious! Get away from me!”

Taehyung frowned. You were really getting on his nerve. Was he not a good boyfriend? He spoiled you with gifts, spent all his time with you and he never cheated on you. What was he doing wrong? He thought to himself. “Why is my perfect, little, angel acting out? Look at me, angel. Tell me what I did wrong? Did you fall out of love? Did you find someone new?”

You look at him, dumbfounded. “Taehyung, you’re trying to control me! You’re making my decisions for me. I can’t go out alone, and if I do, you stalk me! Then you get possessive for no reason! You almost killed my bestfriend because he gave me a hug! You take things too far and you don’t trust me even after being together for years! You just want to control my life and feel like I’m suffocating when I’m with you.”

You could see fire in Taehyung’s eyes. He raised his hand, ready to slap you but before he could, you slapped him and ran for your life. You were light headed and weak, however if Taehyung finds you, you’ll face severe consequences.

Jungkook

Jungkook was going on and on about you going out with your male bestfriend.

You texted Jungkook last minute because you knew if you had told him earlier, he wouldn’t allow you to go. You simply messaged him, “I’m going out with Namjoon, I’ll be home by 6pm.”

Jungkook was livid. He called you multiple times but you were too scared to pick up. Finally, his 7th attempt was when you decided to pick up.

“Where the fuck are you?! I’m coming to pick you up right now.”

“Jungkook we just came to the restaurant, I’m not leaving.”

“Do you think it’s appropriate to go to a restaurant with another man?! What if people think you guys are dating, huh? You’re a fucking cheater. Tell me your location, now!”

“For the love of god, I’m not cheating on you! Namjoon and I have known each other since middle school. I’ve known him longer than I’ve known you. We are nothing but friends.”

Jungkook was pissed. He hung up the phone and went home. He poured himself a glass of whiskey before sitting down on the couch. He was waiting for your arrival. It was 5:54pm when the front door opened. You were right on time.

“See, I told you I’d be back by 6pm. I don’t know why you have to make everything such a big deal.”

“While I’m working my ass off, you’re out with another man.” He said, putting the glass of whiskey down.

“I work too, Jungkook. And I’m a full time student. If you want to get even with me, go out with your female friends. I wouldn’t mind at all. As long as they remain friends.”

Jungkook stood up and starting walking towards you. “So, you can cheat, but I can’t?” A taunting smile took over his face.

“Again, Jungkook? I am not cheating on you! Namjoon is just my close friend. That’s all. Nothing more or less.” You said, crossing your arms and unconsciously stepping back.

“Stop lying. Just tell me now and maybe I’ll forgive you.” You scoff and roll your eyes. “I don’t have time to deal with you, Jungkook. I’m tired.”

“Yeah, because you were fucking around with Namjoon, right?”

You couldn’t take it anymore. You turned around to leave but Jungkook pulled you back, harshly. Instinctively, your hand landed a heavy slap on his face. Unexpectedly, Jungkook slapped you right back — but a lot harder.

You winced as you held your warm cheek. Hot tears gliding down your face. Without thinking twice, you made a run for the door but Jungkook tackled you to the floor.

“Where the hell do you think you’re going?!”

You can make your own ending:)

[selfawarejester]

Hey can u please do a teen wolf imagine set in season 2 where she is either Scott or stiles sister and she is sneaking around with isaac (they kinda had a thing before he got the bite and after isaac got more confident so he made a move)and isaac sneaks into her room at night and instead of Allison it’s is y/n that Matt was stalking and taking pictures of and obsessed with and he had pictures of her and isaac kissing and stuff and maybe he leaves the pictures in her locker and it freaks her out and you decide the rest. (Sorry it’s a bit dark)

Oh, I love me some Isaac!!! Forgive me if I get some details wrong, it’s been a while since I saw s2. And I’m gonna make you Scotty boi’s sister, because Melissa 🥰

You weren’t the dating type, much to the relief of your mother and your brother - and for some reason, Stiles, but you preferred to pretend that you didn’t know that. - which is why it was such a shock when you drag Isaac Lahey of all people to sit with them during lunch one day.

“I don’t think this is a good idea, Y/N-“ Isaac tires to say, shooting the boys a wary look, but you just shush him and shove him into a seat. You brightly grin at the shocked faces Scott and Stiles before confessing that you’d been dating Isaac for a while now.

Scott freezes for a full thirty seconds.

Stiles chokes on his hashbrowns, and almost dies in that same time period.

“Da- you’re dating him?” He splutters, pointing at a smirking Isaac. “You’re dating him? Oh my god, what the- Scott, say something.”

Stiles gives you a look that says ‘you’re gonna get it now’ which slowly slides off when Scott just keeps quiet, staring at you with wide eyes.

“Wha- Scott, say something.” He grits out, and you roll your eyes, tired of their dramatics.

“All right, enough! Seriously, people are staring.”

That gets Scott moving again, as he looks around to find that people are, indeed, staring. He’s still shocked because when did you start dating?? But now he’s asking questions like when did you two start dating? Why did you keep it a secret so long?

He always knew you kind of had a thing for him: all the flirty banter, and the lovelorn glances…

You and Isaac started up two months ago, you explain, but it’s been pretty low-key so that he can hide it from his dad. (You don’t outwardly say this, exchanging a specific look, but both you and Scott have been pretty sure something was going very wrong in the Lahey household — Scott had smelt blood and fear wafting off of Isaac way too often for it not to be.) So he kinda just?? Accepts it??

He’s concerned, duh, but you’re so happy and he doesn’t want to get in the way of that. But he sternly tells Isaac he’ll kick his ass if he hurts you. Isaac, to his credit, stifles his laughter and genuinely tells him that he’d rather die than hurt you; and that’s good enough for Scotty.

Of course, all of this changes when Isaac becomes a beta.

He does it for you. He wants to be able to protect you, to love you without fear of losing you or getting you in trouble. Derek’s assured him that your protection is a priority of the pack, because even in his slightly power-greedy Alpha state, Derek wouldn’t let what happened to him and Paige happen to his beta.

Stiles and Scott hover around you throughout the whole time Isaac is suspected of murdering his father. Sheriff Stilinski tried to kick them out during your questioning, but they squeezed onto the small couch in his office and just stared at him the whole time. You were shocked and scared and obviously didn’t know anything, so he sent you home pretty quick.

Melissa’s freaked out because 1) you lied to her?? 2) you’re dating now 3) and it’s a boy suspected of murder. So, yeah, maybe she’s questioning her parenting a bit, but she’s really trying to be supportive.

Scott corners Isaac at school (Stiles is there too, naturally) after the whole ice rink thing, without Erica or Derek, and he swears he’d never hurt you. Unfortunately, you walk in right at that moment.

You know when both of them are lying, so you force the truth of them, then and there. You get thrown off guard, of course — they thought you’d react like Stiles, or just like most of the people in those movies react: with a lot of surprise but general and immediate acceptance.

You do immediately do something: leave and avoid both of them for the next couple of days. Your mom’s curious as to why you’re so distant, and why Scott keeps begging you to talk to him, and why you’re avoiding him -- but ultimately, she lets sleeping dogs lie, because she hopes you’ll come to her with something really important.

You hang out with Lydia and Allison a lot more, Allison backing up for Scott by keeping you safe — she tries to defend him for you, but you make it clear you need a lot of time before you can think about that stuff. She also tries to turn you against Isaac, but you’re even more closed off to that.

Lydia is a fresh breath of air, because she is just as confused about this (even if it’s only possibilities and vague stuff) and she doesn’t wanna know more either. She keeps things light between you and Allison, and keeps your mind off of things. But it doesn’t work when Allison and the others drag you guys to your house for a weird “study session” that gets crashed by a giant lizard thing- god, this was your life now.

Isaac grabbed you, and locked you in a bathroom before the whole thing really started. You scream at him to stop, scream for Scott, and beat on his chest, but he just screws his eyes shut and forces you in there — he knows you’ll hate him afterwards, but he also knows you might run straight at the Kanima if it came for him or Scott.

You do hate him afterwards. A little part of you understands why he did it, and it’s unfortunately the same part that still loves him. But you’re still hugely pissed off, especially after Scott and Stiles tell you that he tried to kill Lydia. So the next day, when he tries to talk to you at school, you glare at him until he goes away.

In swoops Matt, all “charming” smiles and “funny” jokes. He sees his chance: months of watching you and Isaac be all cutesy had paid off. He knew what kind of humor you liked — unfortunately, all it did was remind you of your boyfriend and keep you guys at a distance.

God, he hated it. Bad enough that someone was keeping you from him, but that it was Lahey. The brother of the guy that drowned him, the son of the guy that screamed in his face about how it was his fault- no. He had to break you up.

So he consolidated all the pictures that he’d taken of you: candids of you at school, at home, at the coffee place you liked. He slips them into your locker, and watches you squirm and look around. It’s working. Then, it’s those pictures of you and Isaac, kissing at your secret spot, necking in your bedroom, smiling at each other — labels it “Remember the good times?”

You’re trying to talk about it to Scott, Allison and Stiles, but they’re busy with the Kanima. Lydia tries to help, but she’s so out of it and she has been for a while and you’re starting to get worried.

It gets to a point where you run to Isaac, tears in your eyes, and photographs in your hands. “Is this you?” You sob, and he just pulls you into his arms shushing you - “No! No, babe, I’d never do that!” - and promises to keep you safe. You stay glued to his side after that. Boyd is nice and calm, a contrast to Derek who creeps you out a little.

Through his first full moon, you stay with him and keep him grounded. Your voice keeps his father’s out of his head, keeps him in control.

You’re standing off in a corner, watching with a smirk as Erica - who you’ve gotten weirdly close to in the past few weeks - and Isaac double team Jackson (it’s actually… kinda hot? Especially because damn Isaac keeps looking at you); but your view gets obstructed by Matt. He’s trying to talk to you but you barely listen, keeping eye contact with Isaac over his shoulder. Then they leave with Jackson, and Matt makes a move on you. You flinch away so hard, you hit the counter and get the bartender’s attention.

You confront him about the pictures and he splutters for an excuse. The bartender kicks out Matt, seeing your distress, who’s now more desperate for your attention than ever.

Matt - or the Kanima- kidnaps you during Lydia’s party and keeps you in his basement. You’re scared out of your mind, begging for him to let you go, but he promises you that there won’t be anyone in your ways from now on. While everyone’s dealing with the fiasco at the police station, Isaac, Boyd and Erica come get you.

He’s trying not to cry when he sees your busted lip, the bruises around your wrists where you were tied down.

Boyd and Erica decided to leave, but Isaac didn’t want to leave you behind. So he goes to Scott and Deaton, and becomes a good guy, helps out with Jackson and everything!

He also starts living with you guys, which you’re very excited about ;) But Melissa is very careful about leaving you two alone. And Scott’s stupid senses screw you over in that he interrupts every time you get to more than kissing.

But you find ways. 😉😏😏

Hope you liked it! I think I changed a few things, and I tried to keep the canon timelines for everything, but yeah!

[sukirichi]

earned it [05]

Gojo Satoru is a firm believer that if you work hard for it then you shall earn it. But on the other side, he’s not unfamiliar with his own sins. He also believes that there is punishment due for his sins as he’s earned it.

cw. domestic abuse, car accident, slight angst, sexism, suggestive scenes, unedited and my naoya simping is obvious with this one, 

notes. TEAM NAOYA LET’S GOOOO *sighs* finally got this out from my drafts. anyways, here’s an earned it update while i recover from migraines because my schedule was so hectic last week and i’m so tired, might be sleeping a lot these days hence the hiatus :( also ik i keep saying this but future chapters will finally be more...UH SPICY AND MORE DRAMATIC, I guess? this is mostly an angst fic btw so please don’t expect too much fluff of heartwarming romance. there WILL be romance,,,it just takes some time hehe, anways ENJOY...or not :)

series masterlist

Women were weak. Trained to be voiceless, compliant, and unable to fight – Naoya found them weak.

His own mother was the perfect epitome of that. For years, he’d watched her leave his father’s room with dried tears, wiping them away with the back of her sleeves. When she saw a little Naoya standing at the edge of the hallway, she’d immediately usher him back to his room, her tears replaced with a smile so convincing Naoya wouldn’t have believed she’d been crying if he hadn’t seen it for himself.

Naoya wasn’t stupid. How could he be when day and night, he’s surrounded by tutors, expected to take over his clan and lead them all to a brighter future?

How could he be stupid when he can’t sleep at night, for the screams and cries of his mother, the sound of palm hitting cheek resonating just from the other room, accompanied with the insults directed her way by his own father?

How could he be so stupid when he looked up to his mother – who he believed was the only source of light in the rather desolate walls of their manor – only to see that her beauty faded with each passing day, the brightness of her eyes now filled agony, with pain, with fear? She no longer smiled; not even for him. She no longer came around his room to read him bedtime stories no matter how much Naoya pleaded because he’d gotten tired of reciting scriptures and poetry. She no longer kissed him on the forehead as a morning greeting, opting to stay in the sidelines with her head bowed, acting as if she was a servant and not his mother.

Naoya wasn’t stupid. As the future leader of the Zen’in Clan, it was his duty to hear and see everything, to be wary of everyone around him and to observe. He knew his father abused her. He knew his father hated her, looked down on her, stepped on her at each moment he could. And as if that wasn’t enough, Naoya found out they weren’t married in the first place.

She had been nothing but a mere concubine whose role was to birth an heir. Now that Naoya had come to life, her purpose to live ceased to exist. And people who had no role in the Zen’in estate had no reason to stay any further.

“Mother,” Naoya cried out, tugging at his mother’s sleeve. “Mother, please don’t go, don’t leave me!”

She was crying again; he wished she’d stop doing that, that she’d stop being so weak. He wanted his mother to be strong and fight back, but she’s not even attempting to wipe her tears away this time, displaying her vulnerability and meek self to him. Had his father been there, she’d be scolded again, claiming that Naoya shouldn’t be exposed to behaviors of surrender and weakness.

His mother cupped his face, trying her best to keep the younger version of himself from dangling onto her robes; the expensive, silk material the last evidence she’d ever been a part of them.

“Naoya, baby, it’s okay. You need to grow up strong and be the clan leader, okay?”

“But why do you have to leave? Why do you never fight back?”

“I’m sorry, dear...” was all she said, finally kissing him on the forehead like she’d failed to do so for the past months. Somehow, it didn’t make him feel any better. Instead, Naoya’s cries grows louder with each minute, loud enough that he caught the attention of his manservants who paled at the Young Master’s wails that was sure to displease his father locked inside his study. His mother sent a glance their way that expressed messages he couldn’t yet understand due to his innocence. Strong arms wrapped around his smaller frame until they dragged Naoya away from his mother, the sight of a luggage behind her turning him weak in the knees.

“Remember, Mother always loves you.”

“No!” he fought against their hold. His servants did all they could to not harm the Young Master’s skin, but Naoya was too strong, too desperate that they were unable to hold him back.

Naoya kept running and running, uncaring of the fact his loose robes hindered him from going at full speed. He didn’t stop, even as his servants had trailed after him, desperate pleas for the Young Master to come back falling into deaf ears. His mother had arrived on a nearby bus from the open roads that led outside the Zen’in Estate’s outer gates, her hand frozen on the doors with her head slightly tilted to the side.

That slight moment of hesitance – to look behind or leave everything behind – was what made Naoya stop in his tracks. He breathed hard, sweaty palms on his knees as he silently prayed to the divine beings to bring his mother back, for her to look at him one last time.

But she didn’t.

And Naoya was frozen in his tracks, everything colliding into one crash and burn that he failed to make sense of everything. He stood there and watched his mother hop into the bus, her decision to leave him behind final and irrevocable. What had rung louder then? The way his heart shattered into pieces, or the loud honking of an incoming car that not even his skilled team of guards could protect him from?

Naoya figured it must’ve been the muffled cries of his mother behind the windows that rung the loudest even if he hadn’t heard it.

Until now, he carried the mark his mother left behind; a gnarly scar running inches from his kneecaps that throbs until now. It reminds him every day what could happen to someone once they’re weak, once they’re vulnerable, the horrifying consequence of not being strong enough to face in this world like a huge slap in his face. In a way, he felt grateful for the scar; at least it was proof he’d done his best to run after his mother, and this injury just taught him it was best to face things head on instead of running away.

This scar would always tell him that running away was never the option, and that was why Naoya felt so strong, so disappointed when he met you. Naoya saw much potential in you – the wrath firing in your eyes and the will to fight back is what pulled him in on the first place – and yet you were already trembling on the ground, your sweat dripping on the floor.

“Stand up!” he demanded, tapping his cane on the ground as he wobbled to his feet. “Do you really think being weak will make you survive in this world?”

“I’m trying!”

“You’re not trying hard enough,” he spat out, matching the intensity of your glare. Had you been any lesser of a woman, a servant, he’d have your eyes gouged out. But to him, you were a vessel of hope, an embodiment of strength he could help you hone that he let you off. Still, he felt extremely let down that he expected so much from you, and you’ve been pathetic so far.

Naoya shook his head as he left. “You’re going to die the moment you step out of here. And to think I actually had high hopes for you. As expected, you women are weak and pathetic. Each one of you is useless.”

He didn’t get very far when his injury throbbed again. Naoya fell to his knees and immediately bit down on his lip to conceal his groans, but it was too late. You’ve rushed to him in an instant, already pulling his slacks upwards to get a good look at his knee. Worry is painted all over your features still drenched in sweat and exhaustion, and he pried your hand away, a frown deep on his lips.

“Get away from me. I don’t need a woman’s help.”

“You’re so uptight, you know that?” you rebutted with a roll of your eyes. Naoya watched as you skipped to the nearest medical kit he always kept in his training grounds (which he rarely used) and popping out painkillers to hand to him. “Just shut up and let me take care of you. Unlike you, I don’t walk around calling people weak, and you having this injury never made you weak in my eyes, but you’re not impotent either,” scoffing at him, you pushed the bottle of water to a very annoyed looking Naoya. “At least let me take care of you every once in a while.”

His whole life, Naoya knew nothing but the familiar bitter cold. Being served tea, scaring his servants with his mere presence, the toxic view that everyone was below them drilled into his own head – that had been his life, and his feelings about it were neither hot nor cold.

To him, it was just the way he’s supposed to be.

But the warmth of your hands, the tenderness of your touch to his scars not because you found him weak but rather you cared for him…it tugged at his heartstrings. That had been at least five years ago and Naoya still remembered that moment very clearly.

He couldn’t understand whether he hated his inability to run away or not, because to be around you confused him to no end. One moment, he saw you as nothing but his one way ticket to fortune, but when he was alone with you, he was beginning to see you more as a woman rather than a pawn to his game. Soon, you became more than that, and nothing had terrified him even more that he let someone in his heart just like that.

Did he love you? No, most definitely not. A man like him didn’t know how to love. But with you – every time he saw you – Naoya is confident to admit that he could somehow understand what love meant.

It had been a hellish trip – one he’d never admit it out loud that he wished to never go on again. He was just happy to be home before he laughed, because home? He’d never thought he’d ever say that, yet there he was, beaming at the sight of you pushing your weight off the limousine.

You looked as stunning as usual, running up to him even with your heels before wrapping your arms around his neck. Usually, Naoya didn’t like public displays of affection since it could greatly deter his reputation, but everyone knew both of you weren’t each other’s weaknesses that he didn’t care whether his people could see their leader grinning as his wife welcomed with a kiss. Naoya balanced himself on his cane to encircle a hand to your waist, pulling you closer and burying his face in your hair.

“I missed you,” you mumbled with your head buried in his shoulder.

Naoya’s smile wasn’t any less affectionate. “I missed you more.” And he did – a whole lot. Even as you both made it inside the limousine, the tablet passed to him per the usual to update him on what happened on the few days of his absence, Naoya couldn’t keep his hands to himself. His cane balanced between his knee and the door, while his free hand intertwined with yours, mindlessly caressing the matching rings that symbolized more trust than love.

“How did it go?” he brought your knuckles up to his lips and kissed it, his attention still focused on today’s stock market. “Did you convince him to lend us the lab?”

“Yes, my love, everything is under control. I told you I had it.”

“Cunning little minx,” he smirked at the confidence and triumph dripping from your voice. Naoya shut his tablet off with a click, hauling you until you were resting on his lap. Giggles erupted beautifully from your lips as you pressed your forehead to his, both your smiles equally mischievous. “Did you sleep with him?”

“No. Satoru is still hopelessly in love with me, so it didn’t really take much to push him to the edge with a few tears and white lies,” you smiled at him, soon dropping from your face when Naoya’s eyes darkened with an unreadable – no, unfamiliar hint of worry behind them. “Naoya,” you caressed his leg, “I don’t care about him anymore, you’ve got nothing to worry about. I just want to survive and put everything behind,” you cupped his face and forced him to look you in the eye, making sure he heard every bit of sincerity in your voice. “You know I love you, right? I’ll follow you to the ends of the earth. Him coming back doesn’t change a thing.”

“I know that,” he said, although deep down, in the dark recesses of his heart, something agonizing stirred within.

You were a smart woman – too intelligent that he may have feared you had he been any lesser – who could easily read through him, but Naoya wanted to be a step ahead of you that he caught your lips to stop you from seeking beneath his soul already. He knew that if you looked a little too close, you’d see everything, and that would be the last thing he wanted.

Snaking his tongue past your lips, he greedily swallowed your moans. Naoya’s touch was possessive as he gripped your thigh, seconds away from ripping off the material of your dress. He only stopped once he saw his driver pale in awkwardness, and he chuckled to himself, squeezing your hips to stop you from grinding on his thigh.  

“You’re always so good for me,” he praised, “I might just reward you once we get home.”

Home. Prior to meeting you, home had been nothing but a word in his extensive vocabulary. Home had been nothing but something that carried a meaning but no significance in his living, but now that he’d met you, home felt familiar. Home smelled like rose-scented shampoos, it resonated of bubbly laughter and curious hands finding its way to its belt. Home…you’d just given him something to lose.

As per the plan, you managed to sneak past Satoru’s defenses. Naoya had once said that your secret weapon was not your tempting nature as a woman, but rather your intelligence that sometimes put his to shame. He’d shamelessly announced his plan to use you again with the goal of taking matters into your own hands, looping Satoru into the picture until you have him wrapped around your finger again.

It turned out to be easier than expected. Truthfully, you wanted to refuse. It wasn’t because you were worried you’d beat yourself in your own game and fall for Satoru again, but because it felt so uncomfortable to hold him like that, to kiss him like that.

Each second you spent with him just served as a painful reminder of how he’d mindlessly pushed you to the side from a failed plan of ‘protecting’ you.

However, you couldn’t complain nor deny Naoya’s wishes. He wanted to use your abilities to the fullest of its extent and bring out your potential. Besides, you trusted him wholeheartedly that you’d never question his motives, even if it included seducing Satoru with crocodile tears and a faux broken heart to get him to bend and move at your will. After all, your will was also Naoya’s, and that was what made the both of you so dangerous together.

Standing here now in Satoru’s laboraty, sending him phoney desperate glances as you clutched your husband’s hand, the game had just begun.

He was giving you both a tour of what you could use from his laboratory, and Naoya had kept silent the whole time. The whole drug manufacturing was more your expertise than his. He simply observed everything with watchful eyes, his gaze darting between Satoru’s longing ones and yours. It was a play pretend of push and pull, everyone in the room except for Satoru unaware that soon, you’d bare your fangs to rip his neck apart, and then you’d stand aside and let Naoya finish the business.

You would’ve laughed had Naoya not tightened his grip on your hand. Both you and Satoru paused as Naoya desperately shushed you up, his eyes wide and floating from one corner to another.

Suddenly, a loud explosion came out of nowhere. The blast crushed half of the building to bare rubble and concrete and you saw nothing but black, inhaled so much smoke that your lungs quivered. The ringing in your ears didn’t stop as you wobbled to unsteady legs, waving the smoke away and coughing whatever filled your system. Satoru was right beside you, his long limbs quicker than yours before he hauled you up, checking to see if you had injuries but you were too scared, too desolate to care for his worry.

For your husband laid under a pile of rubble, an arm and his head the only parts of his body saved from the explosion.

“Naoya!” You screamed and pushed Gojo away, taking your heels off before darting straight to where he was. Jumping from broken debris to one another, your feet scraped and burned with each contact, the ringing in your ears growing louder along with the pounding of your heartbeat.

“Naoya, baby, no!” you tried to pick up the heavy slab of concrete that had crushed his body, tears blurring your vision until Naoya’s blond hair swiveled with his dark clothes. “Don’t leave me, don’t leave me, don’t you fucking dare-”

“Gojo,” he choked out blood. You fell to your knees as you cupped his face and grasped his hand all the while, your entire body shaking. His name kept falling from your lips as you asked him to stand up but he pushed your hand away, not sparing you another glance as he glared at the shock still man behind you. “Take her someplace far – somewhere he won’t find the both of you. It’s T-Toji.”

“No, Naoya, please! I’m not leaving without you!” It was too late. Satoru had easily carried you and threw you over his shoulder, running away from the scene because that was what he was best at. You pounded at his back as the smoke enlarged and covered the entirety of the building that had fizzled with chemicals inside, your husband starting to disappear from view. “Satoru, let me go! We can’t just leave him there!”

“Listen to your husband! He knows what he’s doing!”

As the smoke cleared for a split second, your world stilled. Naoya’s face was smothered with dirt and stains, pain evident on his twisted features, and yet – he was smiling. “Go,” he mouthed, hands outstretched far enough for your matching rings to glint under the sparkling lights. “Live.”

You slumped into Satoru’s arms. It was too late.

You couldn’t comprehend the events that happened afterwards. Satoru had pushed you inside his car before taking off to who knows where. All you knew was that you’d left your husband behind, and you stared emptily at the streets that flashed by, unable to feel or understand anything. It wasn’t until Satoru dragged you out by the wrist and a plane whirring before you snapped you back to life, your feet turning heavy as you plant yourself on the ground.

Satoru looked back at you.

“I’m not going anywhere,” you shook your head, “I’m not leaving him behind, Satoru, he’s all I have. I need to save him – even if it means I die.”

“You’re not going to die,” he starts off slowly. Satoru moves to place his hands down on your shoulders as if to brace you, even going as far as to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, but you couldn’t really listen, not when the plane hummed to life and remnants of the explosion still clung to your skin.

“Listen, Naoya is a smart man, okay? You know that yourself. He’ll survive, you just need to trust that he’ll make it. Now we have to go before Toji catches up to us and we end up all dying here!” he shook you back to life when your sobs overpowered his speech that fell on deaf ears, and you cried harder, much less like a little girl who quivered in his arms. Satoru sighed, perhaps just as broken from seeing you this way. “He told you to live. Naoya isn’t asking you to die for him, he’s asking you to live and if you don’t get on the plane, we can’t fulfill his wish,” he convinced, but you only bit your lip, still looking back at the car. You could steal it – one punch to his nose and you could easily get away, get back to Naoya, until he said, “You love him right? So respect his wishes.”

You love him. You love Naoya. He would’ve wanted me to live. He asked me to live.

That was the only consolation you could give yourself as you allowed Satoru to take you inside. His right hand man, Geto or something, quietly closed the cabin doors behind you. He was making sure his boss was situated, who in turn was fretting over you. All it took was one last warning glare sent Satoru’s way before he backed off, raising his hands in surrender and falling back to his seat.

Sooner than you’d like, the plane had took off, leaving your heart right behind with each passing second. The higher you flew up in the air, the number you became.

“Where are we going?”

“I have a base in Italy. We should be safe there for a while. Gather resources, plan our next move, contact friends...we’ll be fine,” Satoru pinched the bridge of his nose. It was hard to believe things would be fine when he too seemed restless; whatever happened between him and Toji must’ve really left a scar; not that you cared. You huffed away from Satoru and stared outside the windows instead, your heart dropping the farther Japan was becoming. “Hey. You should get some rest. You’ve had a long day.”

“Whatever,” you snapped at him. You couldn’t stand his voice, not even if he’s saved you.

The only thing that mattered now was living up to Naoya’s wish, and as much as you hated it, Satoru was right. You had to hope he would survive.

The chances of him making it out were low, but knowing Naoya, low chances weren’t zero. As long as he had a little bit of something, he would keep pushing. You just had to place your trust in him.

Kissing your dusty ring, you wiped away your tears one last time, eyes shut tight as you chanted over and over, live, live, live for me! Live! Naoya couldn’t give up that easily. You both had a long way to go, still so many places to travel, thousand more enemies to conquer and defeat. He promised you the fun was just beginning and that you’d get your revenge soon, and Naoya never broke his promises. So you had to trust, had no other choice but to believe that soon he’d be right beside you. He may not be able to completely walk anymore, though none of that mattered. You just wanted to be with him again.

You didn’t realize you’d fallen asleep until Satoru’s hushed whispers woke you up. Sitting up straight, you saw him scowling to whoever he’s talking to on the phone. He looked grim, long, slender fingers caressing his forehead as he sighed. Whatever he heard, it couldn’t have been good, and curiosity got the best of you before you could help it.

“What is it?” Satoru stilled at the sound of your voice, having not expected you to be awake. He refused to meet your eyes as he shut his phone. It angered you further and you stalked his way, slapping a palm down the table before him. “I said, what is it?”

“It’s Naoya...” he said through clenched teeth, still refusing to look you in the eye. “He didn’t make it.”

notes. team naoya...let’s go...cry 😭 when I said I would write more gojo x reader scenes and that they’re still the pairing, I meant it, I just had to take a dark route anyways DO YOU GUYS UNDERSTAND WHY IT TOOK SO LONG FOR ME TO UPDATE THIS, I DIDN’T WANT TO DO THIS TO NAOYA BAE 😭 but on the bright side, italy arc is gonna be SHEESH

taglist open (lmk if you want to be added/removed): @sixeyesgojo @shingekiyofeels @q-the-rockaholic @whatthefuckisthatthing @rogueofbullshit @kat-su-ki @kellyyween @sebootyforlife @asshxcm @charlie-xo @aoi-turtle @ladywaifuuwrites @savantsoulfinder @my-reality-is-in-my-head @hannya-quinn @90s-belladonna @tinyfrogsinmybrain @kinekyuroo @evesmores @ambiguous-something @lilith412426 @kakashiharusohma @aizawap @yumeneji @dora-the-grownup @jotazinha @themrsgojo @d34r-s4t4n @marai-t @toji-bee @hai-cool @badsadbby @stesphy @peach-buns-unicorns @misslezah @riri-marley @gracefullyfallinglikeanime @iwaplant​ @mikiminaccch​ | bolder users cannot be tagged

[waitimcomingtoo]

Try Everything

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader enemies to lovers!

Read the series here!

Masterlist

You weren’t his girlfriend.

He knew you weren’t his girlfriend. In fact, it was entirely his fault that you weren’t his girlfriend.

And yet, he saw you leaning towards Bucky every time he closed his eyes.

He had no right to get mad about what you did with Bucky. He knew he had broken up with you, and that meant you could do whatever you wanted. But no matter how many times he told himself that, he still felt a searing hot jealousy when he thought of it.

Despite his jealousy about the Bucky situation, Peter was still determined to get you back. He knew he messed up by breaking up with you, and now he had to fix things.

When he saw you on Monday morning at your locker, he put his plan in getting you back into motion.

“Hey.” Peter greeted you with a shy smile. You stayed silent, which is what he feared would happen.

“Are you still giving me the silent treatment?” Peter asked you.

“Are you still giving me the silent treatment.” You mimicked his voice while moving your hand like a puppet.

“Okay. That’s good.” Peter nodded. “We’re making progress.”

You glared at him before shutting your locker and walked away.

“Y/n.” Peter whined and followed you. “Don’t walk away.”

He was able to catch up to you before you went into your next class. He didn’t want to touch you, so he stood in front of you to stop you.

“You know you’re gonna have to talk to me at some point, right?” He asked. “Our lockers are right next to each other and we have multiple classes together. And summer is coming. These next few weeks are the last we’ll have together. Don’t you want to hug me once you cross the stage at graduation? Or do you want to spend these next few weeks pretending the longest relationship you ever had never happened?”

You stayed silent, knowing Peter was right. You didn’t want to leave for college knowing the two of you were enemies again.

“Please.” Peter said quietly. “You can’t just act like I’m not here.”

You looked at him for a long time, sparking hope inside him that you were going to forgive him. Finally, you cracked a smile and shook your head at him.

“Watch me.” You said before bumping his shoulder to move past him. Peter felt his heart break all over again as your footsteps sounded further and further away.

~

The next morning, Peter was back at it again with trying to talk to you. He saw you at your locker and immediately went to his.

“Good morning.” Peter smiled at you, but got no answer.

“Please, Y/n. It’s been weeks.” He frowned. “And I’m not particularly thrilled with you right now either but we need to talk.”

You wondered why he was mad at you, but you didn’t say anything.

“I fucked up.” He admitted. “I shouldn’t have broken up with you like that.”

You shut your locker and looked at him for a moment. He fought the urge to take your books from you the way he used to and act like everything was fine.

“You know how I said you’re right about once a month?” You asked him, reminding Peter of when you were first trying out the relationship.

“Yeah?” He said hopefully.

“You just hit your quota for the month.” You patted his chest and walked away from him. Peter let out a huff and walked to his first class, which of course, he had with you.

“Good morning, class.” The teacher greeted as you took your seats. “Since summer is coming, I’ve decided to give you a final project instead of a final. I’ll be picking your partners again.”

Your heart stopped for a moment when you heard the announcement. The first time she assigned partners, you ended up with a boyfriend. You could only imagine what would happen this time. Peter shifted in his seat behind you, telling you he was thinking the exact same thing.

Your teacher began to list off the partners and your anxiety built every time your name wasn’t called. The number of available students that weren’t Peter was getting lower and lower.

“Ned, Eugene, you’ll be working together.” She read off her list. You shut your eyes and prayed that you and Peter wouldn’t be matched.

“Oh no.” Ned gulped and looked at Flash.

“Oh yes.” Flash winked at Ned.

“Peter, Y/n, you’ll be working together again.” Your teacher read, knocking the wind right out of you. Peter smiled a little, happy that he’d have an excuse to talk to you.

You, on the other hand, were less than pleased. Your hand immediately shot up and you spoke before being called on.

“Can I please have a different partner?” You asked. Peter let out a sigh and rolled his eyes up to the ceiling. The class, who had just gotten used to the fact that you and Peter were a couple, looked at each other in confusion.

“Why?” The teacher asked. “I thought you two had worked out your differences?”

“I thought so too.” You said sweetly. “But since my current partner has proven to be unreliable and a major A-hole, I don’t think I can trust him.”

Peter’s jaw dropped, feeling that dormant feeling of competition with you returning. If you were going to act like that, he was too.

“I also want a new partner,” Peter said as he raised his hand. “Apparently my current partner ran around to others partners when our project ended.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” You asked as you whipped around in your seat.

“Y/n. Language.” The teacher reprimanded you.

“I’m sorry.” You apologized. “I just don’t think this partner is right for me. I’d rather be on my own.”

Peter let out a humorless laugh when you used the very words he said to break up with you.

“Right. Like you were on your own in the kitchen the other night?” He shot back.

“What?” You whipped around again. “What are you talking about?”

“You know exactly what I’m talking about.” Peter hissed.

“No, dingus, I don’t.” You taunted. “That’s why I’m asking.”

“I’m talking about you filling yourself up with fossil fuel the second we break up”. Peter snapped.

“Fossil fuel?” You asked. Your eyes widened when you realized he meant Bucky. “Oh my God. You watched the security tapes? Are you stalking me?”

“I wouldn’t have to if you were mature enough to answer my calls.” Peter shot back.

“If you two are so inclined to have this conversation, you can continue it outside of my class.” The teacher cut in. You suddenly remembered that you were in class and had an audience watching your fight.

“Fine. I’ll leave.” Peter said as he picked up his backpack.

“Yeah.” You laughed. “He’s good at that.”

“You’re both leaving.” The teacher said. “Now.”

You grabbed your backpack and marched out of the classroom with Peter close behind him. You never turned to look at him, but you could hear his heavy footsteps behind you.

“We need to talk.” Peter called after you.

“I don’t want to talk to you.” You grumbled.

“Then how are we supposed to work together?” Peter asked, stopping in his tracks. You stopped too and whipped around to see him.

“We’ll do it on Einstein’s photoelectric effect model.” You stated. “You can do the research and I’ll write the paper. We won’t have to see each other anymore than we have to.”

“But I want to see you.” Peter said quietly.

“Oh, you do?” You folded your arms. “Is that why you broke up with me?”

“I didn’t think it would be like this.” Peter sighed. “I knew you’d be mad, but you’re acting like I don’t even exist. I know I broke your heart, and I’m really sorry about that, but we have a lot of history, Y/n. You can’t just pretend I’m not here.”

“Yes, I can.” You shrugged. “It’s easier when you don’t talk to me, though.”

Peter folded his arms as well, staring at you with fuming anger as he thought of what to say. To him, you were being unreasonably and immature. He knew you were upset, but he couldn’t fix things if you didn’t give him a chance to.

“Did you sleep with Bucky?” He blurted. It wasn’t the way he wanted to ask you, but he was at a loss for any other words.

“Oh my God.” You groaned and started walking again. “We are absolutely not having this conversation.”

“Could you please stop walking away?” Peter’s asked as he followed you. “I’m trying to talk to you.”

“I don’t care.” You said as you sped up. “I don’t want to talk to you.”

“Y/n.” Peter whined and began to jog to catch up. “Since when did you walk this fast?”

“Fuck off, Peter.” You called back.

“Let me talk to you.” He ran and stood in front of you again. “What were you doing with Bucky?”

“None of your business. You’re not my boyfriend, remember?” You raised your voice. “You forfeited any right to have an opinion on my life when you broke up with me and couldn’t be bothered to give me a reason why. Do you honestly think you’re allowed to be mad about Bucky? Because you’re not. I moved on, Peter. You should too.”

You tried to move past him but he blocked you.

“But with him?” He asked sadly. “You knew I was insecure about him.”

“And you knew I needed communication in a relationship.” You shot back. “And yet, we ended up on completely different pages. I don’t like being caught off guard, Peter. You knew you were gonna break up with me at lunch, didn’t you?”

“Yeah. I did.” He admitted.

“That’s what I thought.” You nodded. “But instead of talking to me then, you lied to me and told me everything was fine. You’re such a dick. I can’t believe I ever loved you.”

Your words cut into Peter like a dagger. He physically stumbled back from you as your words sunk in. His eyes fell to the ground and for a moment, you felt guilty. You almost reached out and pulled him into a hug, craving his touch after three weeks without it. Instead, you shifted your backpack on your shoulder as you fought the urge to forgive him.

“Email me your research by next week.” You said before you thought it through. “And do me a favor?”

“Yeah. Anything.” Peter nodded hopefully.

“Don’t talk to me.” You smiled tightly. “Thanks.”

You turned and walked away from Peter, tears falling from your eyes the second he couldn’t see you anymore.

When his efforts to talk to you in school failed, Peter went to plan b. He went to your house right after school and knocked on your door, impatiently waiting for you to open up. Soon enough, he heard the door click and was met with your unimpressed gaze.

“Oh my God.” You groaned when you saw who it was. “You can’t just show up here.”

“And you can’t open the door if you didn’t look through the peephole first.” Peter shrugged. “What if I had a gun?”

“Do you?” You asked sarcastically.

“No.” He answered. “But you wouldn’t know that because you didn’t look through the-“

“What do you want?” You cut him off. Peter shut his mouth and let out a sigh. He knew you won’t any excuses, so he got right to it.

“I was lying.”

“Oh, great.” You smiled sarcastically and tried to close your door.

“I never fell out of love.” He continued as he held your door open. “My feelings never changed. I love you just as much now as I always have. I promise.”

You took your hand off your door when you heard this. This information changed everything for you but left you even more confused than before.

“Then why did you break up with me?” You asked quietly.

“I couldn’t sleep the night you came to my apartment after that man attacked you.” Peter began. “Or the night before. I couldn’t stop thinking that being with me meant you’d never be safe again. I broke up with you to prevent people going after you for being my girlfriend.”

“That’s ridiculous.” You scoffed. “I can protect myself.”

“That’s exactly what Ned said you would say.” Peter realized.

“So you talked to Ned about it and still broke up with me?”

“I wasn’t thinking straight.” Peter shook his head. “I just needed to know you were safe.”

“Well, I think that’s stupid.” You said simply. “And slightly narcissistic to think people care about Spiderman enough to go after his girlfriend. It’s not like you’re Iron Man or anything.”

“Are you kidding me? How is that-“ Peter cut himself off when he noticed the slight smile on your face.

“You’re teasing me.” He realized.

“Sorry.” You said unapologetically. “Habit.”

“It’s okay. I deserved that.”

You nodded in agreement and pursed your lips. Peter knew you well enough to know when you were trying to come to terms with something. He could only hope the fact that you hadn’t shut the door yet meant he was forgiven.

“Whats wrong?” He asked you.

“I’m angry that you broke up with me and lied about why.” You told him.

“I know.”

“But I’m less angry because I would have done the exact same thing.” You continued, making Peter lit up with newfound hope.

“You would have?” He asked as his lips twitched into a smile.

“You’re Spiderman. And I love that. But I love Peter Parker more.” You told him. “And if the roles were reversed, I would’ve done everything in my power to keep you safe. I’d probably do something more than what you did, but that’s just because I’m a better person than you.”

Peter laughed at your joke, missing your dry sense of humor after three weeks of silence.

“You’re not that good of a person. You fucked my coworker.” He reminded you.

“I tried to fuck your coworker.” You corrected. “But I failed so I’m basically a saint.”

“You failed?” Peter lit up. “You didn’t sleep with Bucky?”

“No.” You admitted. “He turned me down.”

Peter’s cheeks puffed up at his tried his hardest to fight a smile.

“Don’t laugh.” You pointed a finger at him.

“I’m sorry.” He burst into laughter. “But you were rejected by a terrorist. That’s so embarrassing.”

“Shut up.” You smacked his arm. “He didn’t reject me. He was being a gentleman.”

“He’s also a hundred years old, you grandpa fucker.” Peter mumbled.

“Leave me alone.” You whined. “I’m still mad at you.”

“I know.” Peter’s laughter died down. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you how I was really feeling. I should’ve communicated better. I know how important that is to you.”

“And I’m sorry I told my friends you had a micropenis.” You mumbled.

“That’s okay.” He nodded. “I deserved that.”

“And that I had to fake it every time.” You continued.

“Okay.” He liked that one a little less.

“And that you’re on steroids.” You mumbled.

“You’re pushing it.”

“Sorry.” You chuckled, and he couldn’t help but smile back.

“I’m sorry too. And I meant everything I said. I never stopped loving you.” Peter told you. “Did you stop loving me?”

“I tried to.” You admitted. “But even when I hated you, I always loved you more.”

“So are we okay?” Peter hoped. Your smile dropped suddenly, and Peter’s heart went with it.

“No, Peter.” You said quietly. “I don’t think we are.”

“Why not?”

“How do I know this isn’t gonna happen again? It’s a valid concern, to think that people will go after me because of you.” You told him. “How do I know you won’t break up with me every time you think I’m in danger?

“I won’t do that.” Peter promised you.

“You just did.” You reminded him. “What makes you think you won’t do it again?”

Peter grimaced, knowing his answer was not what you were looking to hear.

“I hate to say this, but I don’t know.” He confessed. “I just think I won’t.”

“Well I don’t know if I can be in a relationship with someone who “just thinks” he won’t break up with me.” You said as you folded your arms.

“I think you should.” Peter pouted. “I think it would be fun.”

“Or how about this? Maybe I agree with you.” You shrugged. “Maybe I don’t want to date you anymore because I don’t want to be in danger.”

“What?” Peter sputtered. “Since when do you ever agree with me?”

“Since now.” You decided.

“Then we’ll make a compromise.” Peter suggested. “We just won’t be seen together while I’m in the suit. And I’ll get Mr. Stark to make you some travel sizes weapons so you can protect yourself. And he can put a tracker on you like he has a tracker on me. And we can figure out-“

“Hm.” You cut Peter off and took your time looking him up and down.

“What’s wrong?” He panicked. “Is that not enough?”

“I’ve just decided that I don’t like you anymore.” You said simply. Peter let out a sigh of relief when he realized you were joking.

“Don’t even start.” He warned.

“I can’t be with you.” You shrugged. “I’ve fallen in love with Bucky. Its the criminal record. I just can’t help myself.”

“Yes you can”. Peter insisted.

“No. His thunder thighs are calling me.” You tried to shut the door again. “I can hear them now.”

You stepped back into your apartment, and Peter took a step in. He cupped your face in his hands and spun you around, pinning you against your front door.

“If you want to get rid of me, you’re gonna have to try harder than that.” He mumbled as he brushed your bottom lip with his thumb.

“Well I do love a challenge.” You smiled under his thumb. “I bet I could-“

Peter didn’t let you finish as he pressed his body into yours and shut you up with a kiss.

“You talk too much.” He mumbled against your lips before going in for another kiss. You gripped the lapels of his flannel to pull him closer, but pushed him away suddenly with your eyebrows furrowed.

“Fuck.” You exclaimed with an angry huff.

“What’s wrong?” Peter worried as he took his hands off of you.

“I just remembered we have another fucking project to do.” You grumbled.

“That’s what you’re thinking about right now?” He laughed in disbelief. “Our school project?”

“You’re laughing because you weren’t the one who did most of the work last time.” You pointed out.

“Can you please stop talking so I can kiss you?” Peter whined. “We can worry about that later.”

“But we have to at least start-“ Your sentence was once again cut off by Peter’s lips, and this time, you were glad he shut you up. You were finally back together and you had deeply missed his touch.

The project could wait.

THE END 

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[the-hidden-pages]

Let Me Worship You: Part 1 - Zemo x Fem!Reader

The fact that this man is the one who dragged me out of my refusing-to-write-fanfiction grave and let me post old work while working on new stuff is...Impressive. Damn you Daniel Bruhl.

Synopsis: With all the horrible things you had heard of Baron Helmut Zemo, you hadn't anticipated just how badly he wished to win you over. To a further extent, you certainly hadn't anticipated how tempting it would be to give in.

No bad NSFW this chapter - this is the lead up to the main course.

You were not an Avenger.

Unsurprising, really, given what you perceived to be your lack of talent and marketable super-heroine prowess, and so when Bucky called you up asking for a favour, you were pleasantly surprised.

You had only met Bucky on the rare occasion he let you help him, often expressing that he viewed you as a worrywart, a particularly bad day of his leading to him accusing you of trying to be his mother. He later apologized, hearing your explanation that you wanted to help in any way you could, and since you didn't have a superhero serum or fancy suit or arm, you relied on what you could - your mind and your giving nature.

He must have remembered this conversation, because he brought you with him and Sam to what appeared to be an underground parking garage.

"What're you talking about, you wanna break Zemo out of jail? Where the hell are we Buck? Have you lost your mind?!" Sam was raving as you followed behind the two men, silent as you stew over what Bucky had told you.

Babysitting duty.

You were effectively on glorified babysitting duty of an incredibly dangerous criminal.

"James..." you hesitated when he discussed this with you, how could you not? "I don't know how useful I'll be here."

"Very," he countered, his voice dull while his eyes were pleading. "Sam’s an Avenger, I have the serum. But you, you're just a person. Zemo will be less likely to hurt and immediately betray you because of that fact alone."

"He's killed people who've been in his way before. Normal people."

"He won't kill you. I'll make sure of that."

A heavy sigh escapes you as Sam and Bucky continue to bicker about the logistics of breaking Zemo out.

"I don't like how casual you're being about this, it's unnatural - and - where are we man?"

"I wouldn't mind an answer to that too," you supply, but any answer is interrupted by the sound of a door unlocking.

The three of you turn to approaching footsteps, and find no one other than Helmut Zemo striding towards you, dressed in a prison guard's uniform.

Sam responds immediately, arguing to throw him back in jail, while Bucky tries to calm him down. But you can't help but stare at the man before you as he removes the cap on his head, arms raised in an attempt to calm the men down.

"If I may" his voice rasped, but he was stopped short by Sam and Bucky in unison.

"NO!"

Zemo nodded, looking away almost sheepishly. "Apologies," came the quiet response.

If it were any other situation, you would have laughed - those two had the dynamics of a married couple and they couldn't stand each other. And for them to completely shut down the killer in front of them was...incredibly funny.

But you had a job to do.

As the boys continued to bicker, you took slow steps forward towards the man now looking you up and down, trying to place your part in all of this.

"Don't mind them," you spoke quietly, not wanting to distract Sam and Bucky, but still intending to speak with the criminal. "They're having some troubles in paradise. You must be Zemo."

His eyes take you in, a small smirk beginning to form. "So I must. May I have the pleasure of your name, Liebling?"

You offer your name hesitantly, and he repeats it back to you, as though he were sampling what it might taste like.

"Beautiful name, thank you." He turns to face the two men still arguing, not noticing your introductions. "I really think I'm invaluable..."

"Shut up..." Sam warned, before turning back to Bucky, looking between him and you.

You nod reassuringly to him - this is necessary, if the super soldiers are to be dealt with.

A sharp sigh leaves Sam. "Okay. If we do this, you don't make a move without our permission. And she is watching you every step of the way."

Bucky interjects. "And if anything happens to her, you're going to wish we left you in that cell."

Zemo nods, looking to you once again. "Fair."

You tilt your head slightly, unable to read his eyes as they examine you. You brush it off, chalking it up to him appreciating not being thrown back into a cell immediately. "Okay Zemo. Where do we start?"

*************************************

Zemo wasn't sure of what to make of you, he realized as you were on the jet to Riga.

You weren't an Avenger, you weren't a soldier, super or otherwise. You seemed to just be a person, one constantly offering her help where she could, even when it was to her own detriment.

He also took note of how rarely your help was appreciated or reciprocated.

You would offer help any moment you could, carrying supplies, offering to fetch food, simply offering and ear to listen. You were quick to attempt to smooth over Sam and Bucky's disputes, and you would play along with the role Zemo would assign you without much question - anything to help, you would say.

You were kind, he noticed as well. Smart, and shrewd, and clearly with trust issues, but you were kind and polite. You spoke with him as much as you might Sam or Bucky, you offered him your trust under the promise he would aide you find the super soldier serum. With your kindness, he thought it might be easy to manipulate you, to slip away from the group, maybe even to ask you to join him.

But there was an issue with his theory, he quickly noticed - any attempt to woo you, attract you, win you...didn't seem to work.

He hadn't been at the task long, mind you, but he had hoped you would be impressed with the jacket, the Baron title, the jet, the offer of wine. Instead, you simply seemed uncomfortable. Come Madripoor, you were happy to play the part of eye candy to escape much attention, yet when he offered you to keep the stunning dress, shoes, and jewelry ensemble you simply waved it off, claiming that you'd reimburse him if he insisted on you keeping it. You were happy to dance near him, unable to hide your laughter at his moves, yet he offered you a drink and you promptly declined, claiming it unnecessary.

Zemo's brow furrows as he observes you, awake and quietly reading as Sam and Bucky both sleep on the flight.

"What's your motive, Liebling?" he questions, and you glance up from your page.

"Don't tell me the criminal doesn't trust me," you respond wryly, turning your gaze back.

"No, I don't mean like that," he shifts, leaning forward to continue to observe the woman that was his guard. "I wonder what keeps you going. Some are motivated by riches, and dreams. Others from spite and anger. What do you want from life, my dear? What causes you to wake up in the morning?"

You pause, looking up to search his eyes to see where this question was coming from. You weren't sure what game he was playing, and you weren't sure how to answer him either. You eventually look back down to your book, a small smile playing on your lips.

"Nothing wakes me up in the morning, given I rarely get to sleep most nights."

His brows furrowed as she goes back to her pages, eager for the conversation to end. Her difficulty doesn't seem to be that he's a criminal - she's spoken plenty freely to him, she agrees to his plans...

The difficulty, he begins to realize with a smile. Maybe he's beginning to see what the difficulty is after all.

*************************************

You weren't sure what to make of Zemo, you think as you lie awake at night in the Riga safe house.

This criminal coming out of nowhere, apparently being rich as hell, so far doing nothing to cause you to believe he would betray you (yes, Sam and Bucky were shocked by his killing of Nagel, but really? You weren't shocked) ...but what shocked you the most was how badly he seemed to want to win you over.

You could justify it, sure. You're supposed to be his guard, he's likely trying to get you to let your guard down so he can escape. Yet when he's so charismatic, the way he holds himself, that voice...

Your eyes snap open sharply.

You were attracted to Zemo.

The man you're meant to be watching.

No, you told yourself. You're just lonely, and he's the first man offering you attention in a long time. It doesn't matter that his eyes examining you makes you blush, that you want to run your fingers through his hair, that a quiet voice your head wished that he would kiss you when he pulled you aside with one arm, other hand aiming at a pipe in Madripoor to blow up some poor saps...

It's the heat of the situation, you told yourself. Your options are Sam, Bucky, and Zemo...

Trust you to pick the worst option.

But how could you not, your mind whispers. When he danced like a goofball in a club your heart warmed. When he sat, filled with confidence and righteousness in the jet, legs splayed enough that you could perch on your knees in front of him, worship him, pleasure him. When he left the bathroom this morning in that damned robe, the deep V drawing your eyes down his chest before you could help himself.

You groaned. Of all the thoughts to keep you awake, why did it have to be your assignment on your mind?

It was too hot, your mind was swimming, you knew sleep wouldn't come soon.

And so, you stood, wrapping your arms around your book and padding downstairs in a loose t-shirt and shorts. Zemo had said that you were welcome to whatever resided within the safe house, and you were ready to take up his offer and steal a cup of tea.

You weren't expecting to find anyone else still awake. And yet, you weren't fully surprised to find Zemo sitting in the kitchen, bottle of whiskey at his side, a glass in his hand. He looks up at the sound of your footsteps, a soft smile on his face.

"Good evening, Liebling."

"Zemo. Can't sleep?"

"Unfortunately, not." He leans backwards slightly, examining you. "Another sleepless night for you as well."

"So it would seem."

You take a seat across the counter from him, not wanting to sit too closely to the man you were just fantasizing about. You were good at keeping a straight face, but you wondered if you got too close if he'd somehow be able to smell it on you.

He pushed his bottle forward, cocking an eyebrow at you.

"Drink?"

Your finger caresses the binding of your book as you hesitate to find the words.

"Actually, I had come down to make myself a cup of tea, if you don't mind."

Zemo's eyes lit up slightly, and he stood, motioning for you to stay where you were. "Allow me."

"You don't have to-" you begin to protest, but he's quick to cut you off.

"Please, Liebling, let me spoil you."

The heat that washes over you is clearly visible, if his chuckle is any indicator.

Silence falls and you quietly open your book as Zemo busies himself over the tea. In mere minutes a steeping mug is delicately placed in front of you. You smile graciously and nod, though you falter slightly as he doesn't return to the other end of the counter - rather, sitting on a stool right beside you, inquisitive eyes not leaving your face.

"Can I help you with something, Baron?" you question, taking the tea and blowing on it to cool it down somewhat. His eyes follow your movements, before travelling to meet yours again.

You could drown in those eyes -

"Day after day you offer your help, sarcastically or not," he begins, leaning forward slightly as he rests his chin on his hand, examining you. "Who offers help to the helper?"

You take a sip of your tea, tilting you head. "I don't know what you mean."

"Your refusal of my gifts, your reluctance to let me even make you a cup of tea - at first I wondered if it was in distrust of me, Liebling -"

"Well, you have killed people."

He quirks an eyebrow, and you motion for him to finish.

"I realize now it's because you're uncomfortable being cared for. You spend so much time looking after everyone else, you give no one the opportunity to worship you as you deserve."

You choked a bit on your tea at that.

"I don't know that I deserve to be worshiped, I just...exist. And do what I can to help others."

Zemo leaned forward further, slowly, so as to not push you away in result. "We haven't been acquainted for long, my dear, but from all I've seen from you with Sam, with James, and with an undeserving man such as myself...the strength in your soul and the empathy in your heart...It alone rises you so far above the men and women placed on pedestals because of their supernatural abilities."

You lean forward to match, but your eyes have steeled over. "Your sweet words won't make me let you go, Zemo. I won't betray Sam and Bucky."

He didn't miss a beat. "I should be so lucky to be held captive by you for eternity, Liebling. I don't ask you to betray your friends on my behalf."

"Then what do you want from me, exactly?"

You should be very afraid. The man who singlehandedly tore apart the Avengers is staring at you as if you were a last meal, his knees touching yours, his hand finding its way to lightly perch on your arm.

You should be afraid.

Yet despite your better judgement, you aren't.

"I want you to tell me every one of your desires, so I might fulfill them. I want to see you stand tall in the finest clothes money can buy, to whisk you away to Paris, Vienna, Rome, every beautiful local this world has to offer, local that pale in comparison to the beauty in front of me. I want you to let me bring you tea, wine, food, chocolates, and anything else that might please you. I want you to relax against me, to feel the tension you've had all mission to wash away in the most luxurious bath of your life, while I wash your beautiful hair, while I taste every inch of you."

His voice had dropped to nearly a whisper, and you couldn't stop yourself from leaning forward more to hang off his every word. "I'm not a stupid man. I know it's only a matter of time before I'm back in a prison cell of some kind. And even if I weren't, you may not believe the sincerity of my words. But tonight, little bird, I want you to let me worship you."

Your eyes fluttered as his hand reached forward to cup your cheek, thumb caressing over your bottom lip. You had the strength to look him dead in the eye with one final warning.

"If this is a trick of any kind, Zemo, I won't hesitate to let Bucky rip you to shreds."

The laughter that leaves him fans over your face, drawing your eyes to his lips.

"I'd expect nothing less, Liebling."

His eyes still search your face. A gentleman, you realize. He's waiting for permission.

You lean forward to close the gap, slowly letting your mouth brush over his, tasting him for the first time, as your hand raises to card through the locks of hair in his face. Your body thrums with anticipation of what's to come, with the anxiety that this may be a dangerous move, with pure, undiluted arousal from his words.

Yet you break away gently, both hands cupping his face now as he looks at you, curious as to why you stopped, pleased that his initial seduction worked.

Your hands slowly travel down to his own, and you stand, backing towards the way you came when you first gave up on sleep for the night.

"Come on then. You want to show me what being spoiled is like?"

A grin curls its way onto his face as he spins you in his arms, twirling you so that your back is against his front, his arms around you, his breath hot in your ear.

"Little bird, I'll give you everything you crave and more."

[talesofstyles]

Reconcile II

Ok so I know that I wrote the first part with reader insert, but after many, many attempts to keep it that way, it just didn’t work with this one. So I’d like for you to meet Emma. This is my first time writing with OC and wow game changer. I love her and I hope you do too!

Also, I honestly can’t thank my beta queens enough @oh-honey-styles @for-fucks-sake-h 🥺💛 thanks for allll the comments and suggestions and nice words!!! ily both xx

Read part I here

Harry

“So… are we okay now?”

We’re sitting here on the sofa, finally having that very much needed father-daughter date. Granted, a movie night in was not what I had in mind. I wasn’t too thrilled when she said she wanted to just go back home after we dropped George at his classmate’s house for a birthday sleepover. I thought she would hole up in her room instead and ignore me. But she didn’t. I got us pizza for tea, and we’ve got Shrek 2 on the telly. Her animosity towards me disappeared just like that after she asked for a puppy the other day. Of course, I’m glad to have my happy-go-lucky daughter back, but deep down I know that we need to have a proper chat. The change in her behaviour is so abrupt that I know there’s a chance that my daughter is still bitter with me deep down. And that won’t do. I can take a lot of things, but my daughter’s resentment is not one of them.

“Yeah, we’re okay,” she nods as she takes a bite of her pizza. “You’re still getting me a puppy right?”

“I still need to talk to your mum about it, poppet,” I tell her. “Puppies need a lot of attention. It’s going to be hard work and that puppy is going to be a permanent member of our family. We’ve really got to think about it before we decide.”

I expect a little excitement knowing that her mum and I are really considering getting a puppy. But what I get is quite the opposite. My little girl’s gaze drops, her face slackening. Her voice cracks a little when she mumbles, “except… we’re not a family.”

I wince, realising how serious the effect our split has on my daughter. Despite Emma and I putting on a friendly, united front for our children, Minnie is still sad that her parents are not together. 

“Of course we’re still a family,” I assure her, pulling her to me for a comforting side hug. “I’m still your dad, mummy is still your mum, and you and George are still the lights of our lives.” 

“But you and mummy aren’t together anymore,” she points out bitterly. “And you live so far away from us now. I miss having you at home.”

“I know, my love,” I murmur gently, and turn sideways so she can see my face. “It’s killing me too. But you never know what the future holds, right?”

“I guess,” she says glumly.

I wish I can tell her that I’m trying to win her mum back so we can be together again, but I know I can’t do that. This is far too early. I don’t want to get her hopes up in case I’m not successful in convincing my wife to give me another shot. That’ll only break her heart all over again.

Thinking back, I realised that this is the first time we have a proper chat about our split. I fled to LA the next morning after my wife asked me to leave our marital home back in London, leaving her to sit down with our children to tell them that I was not going to live there anymore. I was shocked and angry because I had no idea what I’d done. I thought we were fine. There were no fights leading up to that. I still remember exactly what I told her. ‘You’re the one who wanted to end it, you tell them.’ And then I left.

Just like that. Without a fight.

I swear to God, it’s something that I would never be able to forgive myself. 

“How’s your mum?” 

“She’s sad,” Minnie sighs. “She cries a lot. She thinks we can’t hear her in the shower, but we can.”

Knowing I caused that physically hurts. I rub at the throb of pain behind my breastbone and I think about all those private tears I shed through it. The ones you hope are hidden and silent.

“Can I ask you something, daddy?”

“Anything, poppet.”

“Do you still get sad too?”

I’m not sure how much to divulge here. Does my daughter need to hear that I stopped eating? That I once cried in the loo at Cafe Habana, and once had to be fished out of a bath by Jeff after I turned into a human prune? I was sad. I still wear that hat. 

“I do. It’s the end of something, that’s always sad.”

“I think mum is dating someone,” she says and my eyes widen. “She told us Luke is her friend, but I think he’s her boyfriend. They’re on a date now, aren’t they?”

I can try and deny it, but I know my daughter is smart and won’t buy anything I tell her.

“What do you know about boyfriends?” I tease, my attempt to lighten up the mood. 

“I’ve just turned nine, I’m not stupid,” Minnie rolls her eyes. “‘Sides I’m thinking about getting one of those boyfriend thingies.”

I sit there slack-jawed, and my daughter roars with laughter.

“Minnie Alexandra, you’re going to drive me to an early grave, you know that?”

“Hey, what are you middle naming me for? I was joking!” She says, still laughing as she picks a piece of pepperoni off her pizza.

“How do you feel about your mum dating again?” I ask her.

She pauses. “I don’t know yet. As long as he’s nice and doesn’t put me under the stairs…”

“I’m sure he won’t. In the attic maybe,” I joke.

She laughs again. I’m thinking about keeping that bloke in the attic so my wife won’t date him anymore. Or even better, six feet under my patio. That’ll do.

“It’s gonna be okay, right, dad?”

Honestly, I’m not sure. But I don’t have the heart to tell her that.

“Yeah, Min. It’s gonna be okay.”

***

I see the headlight shining into the front windows as I walk down the stairs from tucking my daughter into her bed. That must be Emma and her date. I pull back the curtain a little to peek outside, and I’m right as I see that bollockface’s car in front of the house. 

You know that saying; curiosity killed the cat? Well, in my case, curiosity fucked me with a chainsaw. 

I’m a bloody idiot. I should have just closed the curtain back as soon as I recognised the car. I mean… it’s the end of a date. What did I expect to see? A high five? I knew I was so sure when they left that he would not be getting anything more than a friendly kiss, but that date must have gone really well, because right now, my eyes may as well fall out of their sockets as I see that bastard’s tongue down my wife’s throat. 

I’m frozen. I’m gripping the curtain so tight that my knuckles are turning white. I stand there—stunned. Watching. I’m not even sure for how long. It does feel like forever. Like an eternity. 

In hell.

And then Emma pulls back, and everything seems like a blur. I have to remind myself that my daughter is sleeping upstairs so I won’t go apeshit and knock that wanker square on his arse. 

I’m still glued to the floor by the door. I’m too shocked to move. I hear the sound of keys rattling before the door swings open, and she looks surprised when she sees me.

And all hell breaks loose.

“What the fuck, Emma?!” She jolts at hearing me shout. I rarely did it. In fact, I’m not even sure if I’d ever yell at my wife before throughout our marriage. “You told me last night you’d never even kissed him. You told me you weren’t ready.”

“I- I don’t know. He caught me off guard. That was-”

“I told you I wanted to make this work,” I remind her, trying to lower my voice so I won’t wake my daughter up. She doesn’t need to see this. “Us. Our marriage. I told you I wanted to fight for you. But I can’t do that with someone shoving their tongue down my wife’s throat, can I?”

As soon as the words leave my mouth, I see her tear up and I immediately feel regret. That was harsh. But before I can apologise, I can see her lip curls up and I know she’s about to get nasty. It’s a rarity with her when we’ve fought in the past, but I feel it coming.

“You’re unbelievable, you know that?” She sneers. “You think that if you put a toy down, it’ll still be sitting there when you want to play with it again.”

“That’s-”

“You have no right to be upset at me. We’ve split up for nearly a year now. What I do and what I don’t do on my dates is none of your business.” 

“I want us to give our marriage another shot,” I say in exasperation. “I want to try to win you back, but fuck’s sake you’re not even giving me the time of day.”

“Oh, look how the tables turned,” she taunts. “Sucks, innit? Being the one struggling to find the time when it seems like the other doesn’t give a crap?”

“Cheap shot, Ems,” I retort.

“Truth hurts, doesn’t it, H?” 

Emma averts her eyes, her lower lip quivering. I can’t tell if she regrets her harsh words or not, but she doesn’t look back my way, and she seems to have said her piece.

I knew sooner or later this was bound to happen. We never had our big fight, not even that night when she decided that enough was enough.

“I cannot possibly go through that again. It physically hurts,” she says softly. “I know I was the one who ended it, but when you just left like that the next morning without so much of a fight as if ten years means nothing to you… that really did hurt. You left me alone to talk to the kids about what happened. And sure, you did call every day. But it took you nearly nine months to finally come and see your children?”

“I needed some time. Some space,” I tell her. “Do you think it’s easy for me being there? Away from my wife and kids?”

“You chose to be there.”

“You know I couldn’t stay in London,” I murmur. “It’s too hard. At least in LA sometimes I can just pretend that everything’s okay. That we’re okay. That my wife and kids will be there waiting for me when I get home. I can’t do that in London.”

“That’s a shit excuse and you know it,” she mutters.

“I still love you, Em,” I say with a sigh. I know trying to defend myself further for what I did will get me nowhere. “We can fix this. We can be a family again.”

“Harry, it’s too late.”

“Is it him?” I can’t help but go there, because that’s a possibility. “Do you love him already?”

“Luke is a fresh start for me, H. I may not love him now but at least it doesn’t hurt looking at him. It took me months to be able to get back up again, to get to where I am right now. To finally find a little bit of peace.”

Emma’s head hangs low, and she rubs at her temple with her fingers. I want nothing more than to pull her into my arms. But by how stiff her spine is, I can tell she wouldn’t come willingly. 

“I’m sorry, Emma,” I whisper, resigned. Tears well up in our eyes. There’s nothing I can say that will change her mind because we’re not seeing eye to eye. She’s still focused on the past, not that I blame her because I did hurt her badly, but I know that there is no way we can go anywhere if she can’t see past the harms I’ve caused in the past.  “I hope one day you’ll be able to forgive me.”

“I’ve forgiven you a long time ago,” she says, her expression softens. Her thumb runs at a part of her finger where a ring used to be. “Now, I just want us to try and make this separation work. Focus on the kids. Let’s do the right thing by them.”

I nod.

“Can I ask you something?”

“Yeah.”

“When did it all start?” I ask, my voice cracks a little. “When did you start feeling like you’re invisible to me?”

“I’m not sure I can point down to one exact moment,” she takes a shaky breath and pauses. “The change was gradual that by the time I realised it, I didn’t even recognise us anymore. I spent days and nights wondering what happened to us. That wasn’t us.”

I wipe that one tear running halfway down her cheek, and as soon as my thumb touches her skin, I lose it. I can’t help it by this point. Tears flow as much as I try to hold them back. She’s crying too. This is painful. 

“And it’d be too easy to say that I felt invisible,” she continues. “Because the truth is, I felt painfully visible. You ignored me on purpose. I wasn’t even sure what I was to you anymore, because the only chance for me to get your attention was by getting you in bed. And that was wrong. It hurts, because it felt like you only needed me to warm your bed.”

I want to deny that statement. I want to yell it’s not true. That I never intended to take her for granted. That she still makes my heart skip a beat like a bloody teenager seeing his first crush. 

But I don’t.

Because she’s right. I’m not sure what happened either, but we’d changed. Maybe it’s our jobs, maybe it’s the endless responsibilities. Domesticity, children, they wore us down. Kisses became perfunctory. Hugs became less frequent. Hell, I couldn’t even remember the last time I took my wife for a date night other than for social obligations.

“I’m sorry,” I tell her again. I’ll spend the rest of my life apologising to her if I have to, she deserves it. “I hurt you badly. I really am sorry, Emma.”

“It wasn’t all you though,” she mumbles. “I never called you out on it.”

“You didn’t,” I reply. “I never worked out why?”

“I swept it under the carpet because it was embarrassing. It felt silly having to ask for your attention. And I don’t know… pride, maybe? And the kids. I didn’t want them to know something was wrong. So I played along and carried on like nothing was happening.”

“When really…”

“It was like a punch to the guts each time. You were an excellent father. You still are, the kids adore you. This may sound insane and it’s embarrassing and painful for me to admit this, but there were times when I saw you with the kids and I couldn’t help but feel jealous. When you couldn’t even be bothered to look at me… it felt like you took a dump over all my love for you.”

“Emma…”

“I wish I could get past that. I wish I could just forget what happened and trust you again.” 

I bring her in for a hug and say nothing. She needs to get this all out. This is part of the process, and I’m here to listen. 

But where do we go from there?

Reconciling a broken marriage is tricky. I am not a violent person but I have never wanted to strangle people as much as I want to strangle those who wrote articles with countless advice regarding this subject, making it seem like it’s easy. Talk it out, get your point across, and you’re out of the dog house. Well, you know what, bollockface? It turns out that listening is not enough. Sod you and your dumb articles. 

All I know is that I can’t rush this. She’s not ready, and that’s okay. Right now, we both have things to work on. She needs to learn to let go of her resentment, and I have to learn not to take anything and anyone for granted ever again. This is killing me, but there is no one to blame but myself. I take solace in knowing the fact that I don’t know what’s going to happen in the future. Maybe one day we’ll be back together. Maybe we won’t. 

“Thank you for telling me all that,” I mumble against her hair. 

“Thank you for listening,” she looks up and gives me a sad smile.

***

Emma comes from a big family. 

There’s Jamie, her eldest brother and the only guy. I think the fact that he grew up surrounded by sisters was what made us the closest in the first place. He hates wine, even though he makes a career out of managing his own vineyard. I know, the irony. The next is Suze, sister number one who lives in Sheffield with her husband and three girls. Suze and her husband are both orthopaedic surgeons. Then my wife, the middle child. Then Meg, sister number two who just had a baby. It’s another girl so my George is still the only grandson in the family. And then Lucy, the youngest of the clan who’s still in university. 

They all live nearby, and I knew that all my in-laws hated me a tiny bit for taking their daughter and sister away. They were a hard outfit to infiltrate. You don’t enter into a relationship with one of them, you get a whole gaggle of them. It was hard to get in, but once you’re in, you’re in for life. 

After we’d split, I called my parents-in-law the next morning just before my flight to LA. I wasn’t sure whether or not Emma had told them about what happened, but I felt like it was the right thing to do. After all, they’d become my parents too for a decade. So I explained and apologised. Of course, I didn’t tell them the details because I knew they were between Emma and me, and they respected us enough not to ask. They were upset, but they also understood that these things happen in life. All they wanted was just for their grandbabies to come out of this unscathed. 

Now here I am, walking behind Emma and our children as we step over the threshold into her parents’ home for their monthly roast. Her parents invited me and I accepted. I don’t want to turn down any extra time I have with my kids as I’ve decided to leave today and head back to London. I was prepared to stay longer, take some time off work and fight for my marriage, but since it all has gone to pot, I figured I should leave. The world doesn’t stop even when you’re struggling with marital woes. I’ve got work to do, and I also know that it is best to give Emma space. 

I hear voices as we walk inside.

“If littl’uns are going in highchairs then what’s that extra space for?” I hear Meg’s husband say.

Meg tells him. “Count again, addition was never your strong point.”

“Oh.”

The house is suddenly quiet when they see me. This is my first time seeing the whole family again after we split, and even though my parents-in-law and I are on good terms, and Jamie too, I know the sisters would be a different story. All four of them are beyond close and they’re now looking at me as if they should’ve chucked me in the oven instead of the chicken.

You don’t do that to our sister. You hurt one, you hurt all of us. 

“Uncle Harry!” Freya shouts in excitement. She is one of Suze’s daughters. She and her twin sister Tessa are only a few months older than my George.

Suze, who is sitting on the sofa, looks a bit sullen, not knowing what the right call is to make. Meg and her husband freeze. 

“Alright there, mate?” Jamie greets me, trying to ease the tension. Suze glares at him.

“Are you here to do magic then, Uncle Harry?” Tessa asks. 

I bend down to her level. “Not sure I know any magic, Tessie.”

“Yeah you do!” Freya pipes up. “Because when we were driving here, daddy said you did a disappearing act on Aunty Ems. Show us what you did!”

“FREYA!” Her dad barks.

Meg can barely contain her giggles.

“But we like magic. You’re rubbish at magic,” she says to her dad. He widens his eyes. 

The sisters are now all smiling smugly, knowing a couple of six-year-olds just shamed me on their behalf. Extra roast potatoes for those two.

Lucy, the littlest sister, suddenly enters. That’s definitely not a happy face. “Oh, it’s you. Is that why everyone went so quiet? What are you doing here?”

“Luce,” Emma mutters.

“Because I invited him,” says a voice emerging from the kitchen. My father-in-law. “Harry, glad you could make it.”

“Of course,” I reply. “Thanks for the invitation.”

Lucy stares daggers at her dad, knowing she can’t unleash her trademark rapier wit as she’s surrounded by her little nieces and nephews. That one may be the youngest but she’s the scariest out of all the sisters, my wife included.

“Look, if it’s weird, I can just leave?” I offer.

“Nonsense, you must stay for supper,” Emma’s mum replies.

“Yeah, Harry, stay,” says Emma’s dad, staring at his daughters. “I want you lot to be nice. Otherwise, I’m putting you on the kids table. You hear me?”

The three of them nod in unison. 

“You two look well,” I say, my attempt to make small talk. 

“You know, dad’s been singing this morning,” Emma’s mum chirps, tilting her head towards her husband. “He joined a male choir. They think they’re Westlife.”

We all can’t help but laugh. This is classic mum. The tension seems to ease away. 

Let’s just hope it stays that way.

***

There’s a strange feeling of déjà vu as I take a seat on the steps in front of the cottage. 

I’m all packed up and ready to go. My weekender bag is in the boot of my car. Nothing left to do but say goodbye to my wife and kids, but I don’t go straight inside. 

Not yet. I need a moment.

These steps witnessed a lot of our marriage even though we’d never stayed here for longer than a couple of weeks at a time. We loved to sit out here in the summer. I remember when I first brought my stuff here shortly after we got married, we sat out here with beers, sleeves rolled up, boxes stacked into Jenga-style columns. 

I also remember sitting here last year on Christmas morning. Emma and I were both in our pyjamas and slippers, sipping coffees out of our matching Christmas mugs. We watched the kids ride their new scooters up and down the street. Everything was perfect. I had no idea that my marriage would end in just two months after that.

“Harry?”

I look over my shoulder and I urge her to sit beside me. She comes over and does just that. There is silence. We don’t say a word to each other. A quiet hum of traffic in the distance, puffs of breath cloud the air making me think we should both be wearing coats. Christmas is nearly here again. My heart aches at the thought of this being our first Christmas since everything fell apart.

“I’m sorry,” she says softly.

“I should be the one apologising, Em.”

“I know you wanted to work things out,” I hear the sadness in her voice. “I really loved you, you know that, right?”

“I do,” I nod. “Our marriage, all those years… it wasn’t all bad, though, right?”

“Of course,” she quickly replies. “We had our moments. We have Minnie and George.”

We pause, letting that sink in. In all this mess, those two were and remain everything, some symbol of our marriage not being a complete disaster. 

“There were also times when you were a good husband,” she adds.

“Why do I feel like you’re going to pat me on the head?”

Emma laughs under her breath.

“Your new bloke seemed a nice sort,” I tell her, because it’s true. I may hate the guy with a burning passion, but that’s only because he’s dating my wife. 

“He is.”

“That got legs?” I ask her.

“Possibly.”

“I want you to be happy, Ems,” I tell her. “With or without me.”

“Harry…”

“But I also want you to know that I’ll be waiting for you. No rush, no timeline. I’ll wait for as long as it takes. Because for me, it’s either you or no one else.”

The front door opens and two little faces pop out from behind it.

“What are you doing out here? It’s freezing!” Shouts Minnie.

“Well then come here and give me cuddles to warm me up,” I tell her.

Emma and I take a kid each. She takes George and lets him entangle his legs in hers, cradling himself into the hook of his mummy’s arm. Minnie uses me like a climbing frame. I bop her on the nose as I’ve done since she was a baby, and I like that it never stops being hilarious to her. The sky starts to dim, trees casting shadows onto the pavement. A house down the road has some festive lights that switch on and flicker on and off in strange syncopated patterns.

“This is nice,” Minnie mumbles. “I miss the awesome foursome.”

“The awesome foursome, huh?” I ask.

“That’s what you used to call us,” I hear the sadness in her voice and my heart aches. I know she feels this all a lot more than her little brother. “I still remember.”

“Do you really have to go again, daddy?” George looks at me with sad puppy dog eyes. 

“Yeah, do you?” Minnie asks. “I love having you here.”

“I do, my loves,” I reply sadly. “Be good for mummy, alright? I’ll be back soon, I promise.”

“I don’t like seeing you go,” George mumbles.

The emotion is a little unbearable and I see a tear trail down my wife’s cheek. George looks petrified seeing his mum cry. 

“Don’t be sad, mummy.”

“I’m not sad,” she shakes her head, quickly wiping the tear off her cheek. “I’m just sorry daddy and I couldn’t make it work.”

“Did we do something wrong?” George asks, looking at his mum and then me.

“Oh, mate,” I reach out to cup his face, Emma pulls him into a hug. “Of course not. You didn’t do anything wrong. You two are perfect, you hear me?”

“Do you still love each other?” Minnie asks.

Emma looks at me in the eye as she answers our daughter. “I’ll always love your dad, because he gave me both of you.”

“And I’ll always love your mum,” I say, my eyes pinned on my wife. “No matter what.”

Emma

“So… tell me, he a good lay? He looks the sort to have some girth.”

I probably should have warned you beforehand about this sister of mine.

Lucy is my entertainer sister who has done every job going alongside studying. She went to dance school, spent six months on a cruise ship, has been an extra and once did a two-month stint in Les Misérables. On weekends she dresses up as Disney characters and does kids’ parties which means she owns a lot of wigs and always has glitter in her bra. She’s the fun one. I keep her close because as much as I love my other siblings, this one has been a good entertainment through my separation. Mum suggested for her to live with me for a couple of weeks when I first moved back to the Peak, and I’m so glad she did. It was around the time I lost a stone and would spend most of the time napping, crying and staring at the wall, surviving on cups of tea and Rich Tea fingers. She couldn’t cook or clean and she used all my shampoo but she brought some light into the house when grey clouds threatened to consume it. She was also a great distraction because I could live vicariously through her tales of going to gigs and clubs and hear how she’s not slept and got her boobs out for reasons of fun and frivolity.

However, when you talk to her, she always goes there. She’s brash and has no conversational limit. She thinks her purpose is to not only feed me but also revive a pretty dead sex life too. Actually, it’s not just her. After my husband and I split, my sisters think it’s their job to pique my interest in men again. Luke happened after a boozy Chinese takeaway about two months ago when I joked that a spring roll was the most phallic thing I’d had in my mouth for over half a year. I remember a dumpling rolled out of Meg’s mouth in shock, so Suze decided to play the matchmaker and introduced me to Luke who worked at the same hospital with her.

Tonight, we’re having another takeaway night since my parents have all the grandchildren for the weekend. Bless them for entertaining that crew of children we seem to have acquired over the past nine years. We have seven between Suze, myself and Meg, and I just hope that my parents are well stocked with wine. They will need it. 

We all sit around my dining room table with the remnants of a KFC bargain bucket, a selection of Thai food, a giant bag of chips and some battered sausages. I’d admit that we were already a little drunk to buy food sanely. Luke is also here, I thought it’d be nice to give my sisters the chance to get to know him. And it doesn’t take Lucy more than thirty seconds after Luke gets up to take a phone call before asking such questions. 

“I don’t know? I haven’t slept with him yet.”

Lucy looks at me in confusion. “But you’ve been on dates and stuff?”

“We did have a cheeky snog last week but we’re taking it slow.”

“What are you waiting for? Just go shag him. Erase the memory of that wanker?” 

“Hey, he’s your niece and nephew’s father,” I chastise her for calling Harry names. “Don’t call him that.”

“Why don’t you want to sleep with Luke?” Meg, my other sister asks me. “Lucy is right though. He’s really tall, I bet he’s VWE.”

“What’s that?” I ask.

“Very well-endowed.”

I chuckle. “Honestly, I wouldn’t know what to do with it.”

Meg giggles and places her head on my shoulder. 

“Last time I had sex was on Valentine’s Day, girls. Do your maths. The next day, my marriage collapsed.”

Both of them huddle into me like penguins. 

“Which is why you just need to get over yourself,” Lucy remarks. “You need to remember what sex is like. It’ll be fun and make you feel good. If you don’t want to do it with Luke, you can have some taster session? I’ve got a uni mate who’d shag you.”

“Lovely. No.”

Lucy huffs. “You’re so boring.”

“Honestly, Em, Luke is fit. Seems like a nice fella, and he genuinely likes you. I’d have a go on him if I weren’t married. You should just do it,” says Meg.

“Yeah, you could shag him tonight,” Lucy adds. “Meg and I can piss off out and then…” 

Then she does a strange rave-style dance as she thinks of her plan coming together. Luke returns from his phone call and Lucy jiggles in her seat. Don’t you bloody dare. 

“Luke, we need more wine,” says Lucy. “There is not enough and we thought you could walk down to the shop and get some?”

Meg and I look at each other for a second, wondering what our sister is up to. 

“Sure, yeah, I could get wine,” Luke replies. “Any other requests?”

If she tells him to get condoms in then I will skewer her with a chopstick.

“Anything you might fancy or need?”

She’s walking an incredibly thin, thin line. 

Luke gets up to retrieve his coat and grazes my hand as he does. This move doesn’t go unnoticed by Meg and she gives me a sly wink. I hand him my keys and he heads for the front door. Meg stares Lucy out.

“Seriously?” She says.

“We need to prepare you if you’re going to sleep with him.”

“Like mentally?” I ask.

“Like have you had a tidy? This will be your first time. You’ll need to at least tidy up the flaps and do a bit of topiary.”

“LUCY!” I gasp and laugh at the same time, holding my hand to my face. Who is this woman? How can you raise five children in the same house and come up with such a random entity?

She stands up and heads for my kitchen drawers, rifling around until she pulls out a pair of scissors.

“Show me your bush,” she orders.

“Lucy! I prepare food with those scissors.”

“And we’ll wash them?”

Meg is in hysterics as she sees this scene unfolding in front of us.

“I’m not getting my bush out in my kitchen.”

“You’re so dull,” Lucy complains. “I’m trying to help here. What are your pits like? Shame there’s no time to tackle your upper lip.”

I put my hand over it instinctively. “I’ve got a moustache?”

“Well, you’re not Tom Selleck but it could do with a bleach.”

“You’re being cruel now, Luce,” Meg giggles. “But I think we do need the comedy of seeing Lucy trimming your bush in the kitchen.”

I stand up reluctantly and unbutton my jeans.

“Ha!” Exclaims Lucy. “You’re wearing nice knickers, you knew this was going to happen. Just peel them back a little and let me have a look.”

“Be quick for fuck’s sake. This is something that no one needs to see.”

“Do you want a shape?”

“What?”

“Yeah, like a heart? It’d be cute.”

“No!”

Meg roars with laughter.

“I’ll just trim the length then,” says Lucy. “Meg, put your hand out.”

“Do I have to?”

“Don’t you love your sister enough to at least hold her pubes?”

I’m not even sure what’s happening here. One sister is very close to my private regions with a sharp object and I hear the creak of metal as she shears away. The other collects the trimmings in a napkin in her palm. This feels like an opportune moment to ring Suze, our other sister, and start a FaceTime chat. That time we all took one for the team so Emma could reclaim her sex life.

“Thanks, Luce.”

“You don’t say this enough I feel.”

“We really don’t,” says Meg.

“Want me to look at yours, Meg?”

“I’m good.”

“What if he’s into weird stuff?” I ask.

“Like?”

“I don’t know… maybe like choking? Stuff like that.”

“Well, no one breaks out all the moves on their first time,” says Meg but Lucy gives us a look like she begs to differ.

“And I’m not on anything. I stopped the pills months ago. What if I get pregnant?”

“That’s what condoms are for?” 

They both give me a look that says I am not fourteen and that I should have an inkling about how reproduction works and the preventative measures that I can put in place to stop myself from getting pregnant. 

“How do I initiate it?”

“Maybe you could dance for him?” says Luce mockingly. “You’ve both had a drink, let it just happen. Planned sex is the worst kind of sex.”

“I planned nothing. You’re the one who’s got the kitchen scissors.”

“I’m done, anyway. Not my finest work but then at least he’ll be able to find it?”

Meg laughs again as she goes to the bin with her napkin of pubes. I do my jeans up and sit at the table, downing what’s left in my glass. What if he can’t get it up? Or worse, what if he doesn’t like my boobs? I have modest boobs. They wouldn’t win any competitions. What if he wants better boobs?

“You’re overthinking,” says Meg.

“I haven’t got any condoms.”

Lucy reaches inside her handbag, pulls out two packets of johnnies and hands them to me. How far ahead has she planned this?

“Any other excuse?” Lucy asks.

“Look, tonight, just get naked with the fella, have some bloody fun. Enjoy yourself.”

I hear the key go in the latch of the front door. That was quick. Crap. Luke enters the kitchen with two bottles of red that I immediately feel guilty about as I’ve got a rack of it in the utility room. He also carries a few packs of crisps and takes the kitchen scissors that were on my table.

“No!” I stop him. “Those need to be washed.”

He looks at me in confusion and I love that he puts them in the sink without any further questions asked. He rips opens the packet of crisps with his hands instead.

“Crisps?”

Lucy grabs a handful of crisps before she grabs her phone, pretending to read some texts. “Bollocks! Meg, we forgot about the party.”

Meg quickly plays along. “Oh yeah, crap. It’s that birthday party, innit?”

I feel awful. I’m sending the sisters back out into the cold so Luke and I can have the house to ourselves. They both keep winking at me which is more down to the fact that they’ve had at least a bottle of wine each for themselves tonight. Luke stands at the kitchen door while I wave everyone off. This feels weird. 

“Have fun, kids!” Chants Lucy as she shepherds Meg away from the house. I shut the door.

And then there were two. I turn around and Luke is no longer at the doorway. I tiptoe into the kitchen to find him stacking plates. 

“Shall we tidy up now?” He asks.

“It can wait.”

My phone on the table lights up with an incoming text. It’s Lucy. Don’t forget to adjust your tits. Make sure they’re facing forwards. Show a bit of bra. 

Does this mean my boobs are not always facing forward? Where are they looking? This isn’t helping at all. I ignore it.

“Alright,” Luke says with a smile that makes me feel relaxed but also on the faint side of nauseated. It’s probably first time nerves. Is it weird that I’m thinking about the cleanliness of my bedroom? Did I pick up yesterday’s bra from the corner of my room? Do I remember how to go down on a man? What if he doesn’t fancy me?

Sometimes I can’t help but wonder whether my marriage ended with Harry because I was terrible in bed. Maybe I wasn’t attractive enough. I’ve had kids, parts of me are stretched and doughy. Maybe I didn’t provide what he needed. 

In the last year of our marriage, I think it’s safe to say that I was mainly the one to initiate things between us and my success rate wasn’t 100%. There’s this nagging thought in my head that maybe even on those nights I succeeded, those were just pity shags.

You know what, sod it. 

I grab him by the collar and kiss him. He stumbles a little but then lets his body fold into mine. I can do this. Crap. He’s lifting me up. He sits me on the counter and I’d like to say the moment overtakes but there’s red wine inches from my arse so I move the glass with my hand whilst still kissing him. We’re kissing. This is weird. It’s different. It’s not my husband’s lips. Why am I thinking about my husband’s lips? 

I shake my head, banishing that image. Harry doesn’t belong in this room with me right now. 

I feel his hands in the small of my back and then he lifts my jumper over my head. I’m in my bra. Don’t overthink it. Oh, the bra is off. My nipples are out in the kitchen. I run my fingers through his hair as he trails kisses down my neck. Is it weird that right now, at this very moment, all I can think about is that his blond, floppy hair looks like a golden retriever?

I gasp and push him away involuntarily when his mouth wraps on my nipple. This is wrong. This feels wrong. I thought it was just first time jitters but now I think this is deeper than that. 

“Are you alright?” He asks, looking concerned.

I grab my jumper and quickly put it back on. “I… I’m sorry, Luke. I can’t. I have to go.”

“Emma, I’m sorry,” his face reads panic. “Did I read the signals wrong? I thought you wanted this. I feel terrible. I’m so sorry.”

“No, please don’t apologise,” I say hastily. “You didn’t. I did want this. Or so I thought. It’s just… I’m not ready. I don’t think I’ll be ready any time soon. Or ever.”

“What do you mean? Are you breaking up with me?”

I have to be straight with him. I take a deep breath. “I want to give you the opportunity to walk away. You’re a good guy, Luke. I just don’t think it’s fair for me to string you along if we can never progress.”

“Is it your ex-husband?”

He’s still my husband. But I don’t say this out loud. 

“He told me that he wanted to give our marriage another shot about two weeks ago when he was here,” I tell him. “I did say no right away. I didn’t think it was a good idea. But…”

“Is it really?” He asks. “You two have a lot of history. Two kids. Why wouldn’t you give him a chance?”

“I’m worried.”

“And what are you worried about?”

“My heart?” I say quietly. “I don’t want to go through that again.”

Luke smiles at me through sympathetic eyes. “Listen to me, Emma. I’m not a cardiologist, but I know that the hearts are the strongest organs in the human body. They can go through anything.”

What happens next feels like a blur. All I know is that by midnight, I’m already halfway down the M1, on my way to London. 

Harry

It was a knock on the door that woke me up.

When I first open my eyes, I’m disoriented. I don’t know what time it is, or how long I’ve been asleep. Then I realise I’m on the sofa, and it’s still dark outside. It’s also raining. I walk towards the door and open it, just in time to catch a figure going down the steps, which doesn’t take me more than a second to recognise. I am in complete shock. Is this real? Is that really my wife, standing in front of my door in the middle of the night? Or are my eyes deceiving me?

“Emma?”

She stops on the pavement and slowly turns to face me. She’s spooked through—her jeans moulded to the curves of her legs, the sleeves of her jumper dripping, her hair flat, lips slightly tinged with blue.

“I don’t know why I’m here,” she says. “Don’t know what I was thinking.”

I open the door wider, and my voice is drowsy and deep when I say, “Come on, let’s talk inside.”

She takes a step back instead.

“I just… I wasn’t thinking. I’m here. I don’t know why,” she sounds genuinely bewildered—even a little panicked.

“Are the kids in the car?” I ask her and she shakes her head. The wind blows, spraying ice-cold drops across my bare skin where my shirt hangs open. “You’re shivering, honey, come inside.” 

She stares at me, so many emotions swirling in her expression. She’s like a skittish kitten who can’t decide if she should let the stranger pat her head or haul up the nearest tree. It breaks my heart.

“I don’t think I can.”

So I go to her. 

The rain is cold and hard, soaking my shirt. Her eyes dart from the pavement, to my chest, up to my eyes and back again, like she’s ready to bolt—but her feet stay glued.

I lean in so she can hear me through the rain. “Do you remember the first time we went to Paris together? When we were young and crazy enough to only rent one electric scooter for both of us, and we rode around the city at night?”

The corners of her mouth tug up a little. “I remember.”

“But then I was going way too fast and we hit a rock, and both of us went flying. I didn’t want to ride anymore the next day, because I was afraid you’d get hurt. Do you remember what you told me?”

“I said…” she begins, her eyes meet mine. “I said we had to keep riding. Because it’s the only thing that made falling worth it.”

I nod tenderly and hold out my hand. “I’m not going to let us fall this time, Emma.”

Her eyes are back on the pavement. “I’m not sure-”

I know she still doesn’t trust me. I know that sadness on her face and how it penetrates so deeply. I know she’s probably better off without me, the bastard who crushed her heart and soul and took her for granted for years. 

We shy away from the things that hurt us. But that’s what scars are for. They protect the wounds. They cover them with thick, numb tissue so we’ll never have to feel that same pain again. The scars that my wife has inside? They’re tough. 

I beg when she continues to stare at my hand, “Please, just come inside.”

Slowly, tentatively, her hand slides into mine. 

And we go in out of the rain.

I take her upstairs to the bedroom that used to be ours. Her teeth chatter as she sits on the edge of the bed. I throw a blanket over her shoulders, rubbing her arms, sliding down to cup her hands. 

“Shit, you’re freezing. How long were you out there?”

“A while. I was walking… thinking.”

“Just some friendly advice. Next time you go a-wandering, stop and buy an umbrella.”

Emma shivers as she laughs. I pull the blanket closer around her and rub her back. 

“So… you gonna tell me what’s this midnight adventure about?” 

Her voice comes out soft and wavering in the dark room. “I was with Luke.”

“Did he do something to you? I’ve watched enough crime documentaries to pull a perfect murder.”

She shakes her head and chuckles. “We were having a takeaway night. Meg and Lucy were there too, but then they left and there were just the two of us and-”

“Please spare me the details,” I beg.

“Nothing happened. I just… I couldn’t get through it. Your face kept popping out in my head and I knew that if I went all the way through, we’d lose our chance. And I didn’t want us to lose our chance. I know this is completely the opposite of what I said to you two weeks ago but it’s true. I wasn’t ready then and maybe I’m still not ready now, but I don’t know about the future and you said you’d wait for me and…”

Her words trail off and my chest clenches with that sublime mix of excitement and trepidation. Of wanting something so much it’s like every cell in your body is stretching, reaching for it, yet there’s a grey shadow of worry that you might never get to touch it.

“Oh, Ems…”

I cup my hands around hers and blow into them. Another shiver vibrates through her. 

For a moment we sit there in silence. Memories of us in this bed come flooding back. Of the kids piling in here bright and early, and us having cuddles and catch ups over the week just gone. Of the two of us and that sacred half an hour we had together before we go to sleep. Where we could have a proper chat without little voices interrupting us every few seconds. Sometimes we’d read together too, and other times when we just couldn’t be arsed, we’d simply spend that half an hour scrolling through memes and having a laugh together.

“You’ve got to get out of these wet clothes,” I say gently, with absolutely no teasing suggestion. We’re right on the precipice. I can feel it. And I have to tread so carefully, because one wrong move could send her away, truly lost to me.

I peel my soaked shirt off and let it drop to the floor. Her eyes move, trailing over my shoulders. I stand and slowly unbutton my jeans, leaving me in black boxer briefs. 

Her eyes follow my every move, looking at me.

I push the blanket off her shoulders and let it drop to the floor. I grasp her jumper at the bottom and lift slowly. I wait for her to push me away but she doesn’t. She raises her arms instead. I pull the jumper over her head and it lands with a plop on the floor. I remind myself not to enjoy the view. I’m trying hard not to look.

My chest rises and falls as rapidly as hers. I sink to my knees in front of her and reach out for the button of her jeans. She lifts her hips and my fingertips graze her skin as I slide them down her thighs, leaving the white lace knickers in place. 

“Get under the sheets,” I whisper and she does just that.

She scoots to her side of the bed, and I slide beside her. Without a word, she snuggles into my side. The cool feel of her flesh is a shock at first, but in just a few moments, my heat chases away her chill. Except for her feet. I practically jump when she runs one up my calf.

“Yer a bloody ice cube!”

She laughs kind of evilly. 

We face each other, almost nose to nose. Her hair still drips at the ends and a drop trickles over her collarbone, down her chest, and I’ve got to take a deep breath—because I want to lick it off her so badly.

“Talk to me,” she says softly.

“I’m taking time off work.”

“But you never take time off work?” 

“I’ve got a lot to make up to the kids,” I tell her. “So I told Jeff to bugger off for at least until after New Year.”

I see her smile in the dim light.

“I’m gonna stay up with my mum,” I add. “I’ll only be an hour away from you lot.”

This is something that I’ve been mulling about. If I really do want a chance with Emma, I need to move up there because absence does not make the heart grow fonder. That may be true in secondary school when you went away for the summer. But in marriage, especially in a broken marriage, absence separates people. It creates distance. That’s the opposite of what you’re trying to achieve. You want the closeness back.

My wife’s palm runs over my bicep—tentatively at first—then with a surer touch. “They’d love that.”

“Also, you remember my old mate Stu?” She nods. “We got in touch just earlier today. He’s got a litter of puppies and he offered one for us. I told him I need to talk to you first. So what do you think?”

“A puppy, huh?”

“A puppy.” 

“I think that’s a good idea,” she says. “But I’ve never had a dog though.”

“I can train it first at my mum’s?” I offer. “I’ll get it all settled. Then when it starts sleeping through the night, I’ll bring it over.”

“Does it make me a terrible mum for wishing we had that kind of service when the kids were newborns?” 

“We had that service. It’s called sending them to the grandparents.”

We both laugh, and when the laughter dies down, we’re silent for a few minutes. The thrum of my heartbeat jacks up as her hand continues to stroke my arm. 

“Harry?” Her voice is the barest whisper, like she’s checking to see if I’m asleep. 

“Hmm?”

“I… I’ve missed you. So much.”

And I’m done.

The need to kiss her, to touch her, has been pulling at me like a raging current ever since I saw her on the front step, and with those few words, I let the current take me. 

***

Numerous studies have shown that having sex extends the human life span. At this rate, Emma and I are going to live forever. We probably slept twenty minutes max throughout the night and I’ve lost count of the number of times we’ve done it. I’m pretty sure the last time we did something like that was ten years ago on our honeymoon. 

We’re sitting at the breakfast nook. Her hair mussy and she’s wearing one of my T-shirts. She looks freshly fucked, which I know to be true, and I reckon she’d be ready to crawl back into bed with me if I just crook my finger. But I don’t do that. Because this, us, sitting here in the morning sunlight, playing footsies under the table while we talk over coffee is all I’ve been dreaming about every morning.

“What are you thinking about?” She asks when she catches me looking.

“You,” I smile. “You look perfect.”

“No, no more,” she shakes her head frantically. “I won’t be able to walk.”

“You dirty lass, I was trying to be romantic and all that,” I can’t help but snort in laughter. “And you always do that… rebuff any type of compliment I try to give you.”

It’s true. If I tell her she looks beautiful, she waves a dismissive hand at me. If I compliment her mind, she blushes. Even an appreciative look from me has her turning shy like a schoolgirl.

When she doesn’t respond to me, I continue to poke at her. “Why is that? Why does it embarrass you when I tell you that you’re smokin’ hot?”

She wrinkles her nose at me. “Because it’s weird. I feel like you just have to say that.” 

She pretends to go through one of her old magazines from when she still lived here. I reach across the table and bat at it, causing one side to pull out of her hands and reveal her entire face to me. Now she’s glaring. “You are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever known.”

And I grin when I see red stain her cheeks.

“And you’ve got the most gorgeous body. I take one look at you naked and I can’t help but get rock hard.”

“Stop it,” she blusters, now blushing all the way down her neck.

I change tactics, but I know this will embarrass her just as much. “You are the most amazing woman. Kindest, genuine and grounded. Funniest too. And you’re the best mother for our babies.”

“Okay,” she snaps at me as she closes the magazine and slams it down onto the table. “You’ve made your point.”

Chuckling, I stretch back in my chair and nudge her foot with mine under the table. “You’re adorable.”

She rolls her eyes, which I find to be beyond adorable. 

Standing up from my chair, I walk around the table and hold my hand out to her. She willingly takes it and stands when I give her a tug. It’s a natural move for her, to walk straight into my embrace and press herself against me. I tilt my head and kiss her on her jaw. “It’s something you need to get used to… compliments from me. It’s never going to stop.”

She moans softly in my ear.

“Want to know what else you’re going to have to get used to?” I whisper as I kiss my way down her neck.

Her fingers come up, tangle in my hair, and fist tightly. “What’s that?”

“My face between your legs.”

***

Some people might not put Quaglino’s into the romantic restaurant bracket, but they’d be wrong, very wrong. In actual fact, it’s quite hard to top. The interior has this 1930’s romance charm with candlelit tables, dark-panelled walls and an adjoining room for dancing to the soft tunes of the piano man singing bluesy versions of classic songs. 

Tonight, I managed to convince Emma to go out to dinner with me before she goes back to our babies. I insist on driving her since I don’t want her to drive alone at night again, which she initially refused but finally agreed.

We finish our dinner and split a slice of cheesecake for dessert. Probably not my brightest idea since I keep having to readjust myself because seeing her slowly swallow a mouthful of white, creamy concoction is a pure kind of torture. But I try to kick those dirty thoughts out of my mind and focus. 

Since last night, we’ve successfully managed to avoid the talk. It feels like we’re in a bubble where everything is perfect and we’re just scared to burst it, but I know this can’t go on. Emma and I need to have a proper chat if we want this to work.

“Penny for your thoughts.”

“You and I need to talk, don’t you think?” I begin. 

“You’re right,” she nods. “So…”

“What is this?” I gesture between us. “Are you ready to give us another shot?”

“I think so,” she nods. “But I want us to take it slow.”

“You set the pace,” I assure her. “I want this to work more than I want anything else in my life. So I’ll do whatever you want me to.”

“We’ll see this as a new dalliance,” she adds.

I know this is supposed to be serious so I try hard not to break into laughter. “Okay. I will court you but I won’t ask you to move to an estate in the country. Not right away at least.”

“I’m serious.”

“You sound like Austen.”

She rolls her eyes. “And we can’t tell anyone either.”

“I agree,” I tell her. “And from now on, we talk to each other, alright? I’ll try to make you happy the best way I know how. But if it’s not enough for you, then you need to tell me.”

She nods, but then her graze drops before she asks. “You really do want this right?”

“I told you I want this to work more than anything else in my life.”

“It’s just… when you first told me you wanted to fight for our marriage, I was overwhelmed because it was all so sudden. You told me everything I wanted to hear. Even at that moment, everything in me screamed for us to just fall back into it all the way. But there was also a part of me that thought you were just lonely, and maybe you thought that us getting back together was the answer to it.”

“Not true-”

Emma holds up her hand. “Maybe not true, but it’s my fear. That’s why I kissed Luke that night, because I was desperate. I wanted to push things with him because I knew I’d never love him the way I love you. I knew that if things went to pot, I wouldn’t be half as devastated. But with you? I don’t think I can survive that type of heartbreak again, H. You don’t know how much it killed me to end our marriage. I can’t afford to fall back into something that’s not going to last.”

“Emma,” I reach across the table to take her hand. “I can’t even imagine how hard it was for you. I know for sure it was not a decision you made lightly, nor on a whim. I wish I had fought you on it then… had fought for you then. There was a time when I thought our marriage was over, and I was going to let you go. But I’m not going to do that now. If it takes you weeks, months, hell, Emma… if it takes you years to fully trust my devotion to you, I’m in this for however long it takes.”

Emma nods, biting into her lower lip. I can see her eyes starting to water because every bit of this is overwhelming. She turns her head towards the music floating in from the other room. It’s a Van Morrison cover, Crazy Love.

“Wanna dance?”

The request takes me by surprise since this isn’t like her. But I toss my napkin on the table and move to stand next to her, holding out my hand. The simple delight on her face when her hand slides into mine is everything.

We step out onto the edge of the dance floor. I wrap my arm around her lower back, holding her tight and flush against me. One of her hands rests on my shoulder, playing with the hair at the nape of my neck. The other is clasped in mine just over my heart. We sway, eyes pinned at each other for a few moments.

“Thought you hate dancing?” I smirk.

“Still hate it,” she answers. “I’m just using it as an excuse to be closer to you.”

She sighs, practically sinks into my arms. Emma’s head fits against my chest like she was made to be there. My chin rests against her hair.

“Emma?”

She lifts her head from my chest. “Yeah?”

“You don’t need an excuse.”

She give me love, love, love, love, crazy love… 

***

“What the-”

“Oi!” I yell, quickly pulling the duvet over my wife and I. “Heard of knocking?”

“Heard of a bedroom lock?” Lucy challenges.

Last night, we drove up the M1 straight from the restaurant. We took breaks in deserted services with shiny floors and bad lighting where we had coffees and wandered around WHSmith bulk buying sweets even though it’s really not that far. But you can never have too many travel sweets, can you?

And now, here we are, back at the cottage. The kids are still at their grandparents until this afternoon so Emma and I are enjoying the benefit of having the house all to ourselves by having a morning shag. That is until one of her sisters walks in on us. I’m very aware that I’m still inside Emma.

I pull out, roll over to lay down next to my wife, and we both stare at Lucy who is dressed from head to toe like Princess Jasmine from Aladdin.

“Party?” Emma asks her sister. We both try not to giggle as she sashays in to look at herself in the mirror then perches on the bed in her harem pants. Today, she’s gone heavy on the winged eyeliner and shows off a flat midriff. I quite like the pointy silver shoes though.

“No, Tesco,” she says dryly. “Obviously a party.”

“What are you doing here?” I ask her. 

Lucy glares at me. “What are you doing here? Besides rearranging my sister’s guts, of course.”

I don’t even flinch. I’ve been married to Emma for ten years, I’m used to this sister of hers.

“I’m trying to win your sister back,” I say earnestly. I know that Emma and I talked about keeping this a secret, but she literally walked on us shagging. There’s no point in denying it. It’s best that she knows my true intention rather than thinking we’re divorced with benefits.

“Eh, about time,” she replies nonchalantly.

“Luce, please keep this to yourself for now,” Emma begs her. “This is still new.”

“I will,” she nods. “Just a friendly reminder, though, Styles. If you hurt my sister again, I won’t even think twice before starting a business selling voodoo dolls of you. Bet I could make a fortune of that.”

In their girl gang, Lucy is the wildcard, the likeliest to carry a shank. I don’t even laugh because she could be serious. 

“Duly noted.”

“What are you doing here this early?” Emma asks her sister.

“I wanted to ask if I can borrow that giant tiger in George’s room?”

“Feel free to borrow the rug in the front room as well,” I cackle.

“Ooh yeah,” Emma chirps. “Are you going to find a whole new world?”

“Have you got your Aladdin?”

She pulls a face at our mocking. “My mate who’s supposed to be Aladdin is sick so I asked Jamie to fill in and he agreed because he owed me a big favour. But this lot changed their mind and wanted a genie so now I have to go to Jamie’s and convince him to let me do a full blue body paint on him.”

Emma and I roar with laughter. “Please, please, please, take some piccies.” 

***

A month later…

I can only imagine the joy on my children’s faces when they open the door. I’ll be standing there with the pup in hand, but I know I’m practically vibrating with excitement myself. I glance over at the little dog crate that we’d prepared to transport him in. It’s a sweet, nine-week-old Bernese mountain dog. He’s pretty chill, curled into a round ball, but he’s not sleeping. His eyes are open and alert, as if he’s just waiting to find out what’s around the next corner.

The back of my Range Rover is loaded with two boxes of food, dog toys, bowls, a leash, and appropriate treats. Since I’m still crashing at my mum’s, that will go to her place for when the kids and this puppy come to stay. Emma has an identical list at her home, already purchased and hiding until we hand the puppy off to the kids.

I’ve got a feeling that today is going to be a good day. All morning, Emma and I texted back and forth. Some of it was practical, like making sure we agreed on all the dog rules we’d lay down with the kids tonight. Some of it was lighthearted teasing. Some of it was dirty.

I can’t remember the last time I texted my wife throughout the day just for the hell of it. I had fun with it, and I know without a doubt she had fun with it too. Which made me realise what a twat I’d been for never doing something as simple as letting her know she was on my mind in just such a way. 

Pulling into the drive, I cut my headlights so the kids wouldn’t see me approach. I shut the engine off, quietly get out of my side, and press the door closed quietly. On the other side, I open the passenger door, then spring the latch on the dog crate, and this tiny little puppy totters straight at me with tail wagging.

I lift him in my arms. I shut the door and then move over to the patch of grass. I put the puppy down so he will go potty before I bring him in. When I was a kid, we had a dog called Max, but I sort of grew up with him so I didn’t remember when he was a puppy. And Emma never had a dog before, so we’re sort of winging it with this puppy training thing. But I don’t fret about it. I mean, we’ve had babies, they’re harder than this, surely? 

I patiently wait for this little fella to do his business, which includes a few minutes where he attacks my shoelaces and tugs. Shite, he’s cute. 

Eventually, he sniffs around, tail high and then abruptly squats to pee. I thought boy dogs lift their legs when they pee but maybe not at this age. I immediately bend and give him praise with an upbeat, positive tone that makes him excited. Who’s daddy’s clever little fella? You are! Yes, you are! You did well, mate. That was brilliant! He puts his paws up on my shin, accepting my stretches with tail wagging and tongue lolling out the side of his head. My kids are going to fall in love with this little guy. 

I scoop him up in my arms when he’s done and make my way inside. But instead of entering from the front door, I circle the house so I can enter from the back, knowing they must be all in the kitchen as this is usually the time when the kids would do their homework for next week. Walking past the window, I see that I’m right. Emma is at the kitchen island with George next to her and Minnie on the opposite side. My heart starts beating faster at the thought of spending the day with my family—and apparently our new third child in my arms—and I find it almost shameful I have such excitement over it. Shouldn’t I have always been this excited? Or is it normal for things to just settle, and we take them for granted?

I shake that thought off of my mind. I had this important talk with my wife a couple of weeks ago about how we shouldn’t focus on the past. We’re both committed to repairing our marriage, and for it to work, we both know we must commit to living in the present. Because at the end of the day, the present is all we have.

I knock on the door and as planned, Emma will tell the kids to answer it.

In moments, it’s swinging open. I get a flash of Emma walking up behind our kids, but my eyes are pinned on them. They’re both in complete shock, eyes wide open staring at the puppy squirming in my arms.

Both stare at me mutely, frozen, as if they can’t believe that this is real.

Finally, I say, “surprise!”

Minnie’s gaze rises up to meet mine. “Is that ours?”

“This is ours,” I nod, laughing. But still, neither of them move forwards, so I goad them. “Come and get him?”

That’s all it takes for Minnie to scoop this little fella into her arms, pressing her nose into his head and murmuring little endearments. George scratches him and he reacts to their greetings by wiggling frantically and trying to lick both of my kids’ faces. They both laugh in a delighted way I’ve never quite heard before.

I look at my wife and see her tender smile as she watches our littles. I can tell she’s as charmed by it as I am. 

I walk inside because it’s colder than a witch’s tit outside and shut the door. “He just peed outside, but we need to keep a close eye on him. If he starts sniffing around or circling, that probably means he needs a wee. Scoop him up and take him out to the back. After he’s done with his thing, give him lots of praise and affirmation.”

“Got it,” Minnie says as she plops down on the living room floor with the pup. The puppy jumps around, and all three of them start to play.

“Now, what should we name him?” Emma asks.

“Droolius Caesar?” I joke.

Emma laughs. “Jimmy Chew?”

“Sarah Jessica Barker?” I continue. “Wait, no, it’s a boy. Franz Fur-dinand?”

“Sir Barks-a-Lot?”

“Deputy Dawg?”

“Bark Twain?”

We both laugh. We’re shite at this. The kids are too busy with the puppy to comment on our suggestions.

SpongeBob SquarePants is on the telly playing in the background. None of them are watching, but I see SpongeBob scratching his snail pet under the chin before he picks up said pet and says, “I love you Gary. Gary, Gary, Gary, Gary…”

“Gary,” I say. The kids look at me and I point at the telly.

“That’s a ridiculous name for a dog,” Emma cackles. “But I like it.”

“That’s a human name?” Minnie’s brows knit slightly.

“I like it!” George exclaims, then proceeds to baby talk the pup who’s chewing on the end of Minnie’s braid. “I love you Gary. Gary, Gary, Gary, Gary…”

We laugh.

“H,” Emma calls, and my gaze moves to her. She jerks her chin to the kitchen. “Help me set up the table? I’ve got a cold beer for you.”

Minnie and George still completely ignore us as we move into the kitchen. 

It would be natural for me to sit at the kitchen island while Emma gets the beer and checks on the supper, but the kids can see me from where they sit in the living room. So I follow my wife behind the island instead.

Before she can make it two steps, I move right into the back of her. Hands at her hips, I push her all the way forward until the counter catches her hips, then I dip to put my lips to her neck. 

Emma’s head falls back and she utters the tiniest of sighs, one arm looping back to go around the side of my head so she can thread her fingers in my hair. It’s an intimate embrace, but not one to provoke lust. Just a message that I missed her even though I saw her two days ago, and I love touching her in this gentle, loving way.

“The kids,” she murmurs. “They might see us.”

“Oh, the tragedy,” I whisper dryly. “Our children seeing  their parents hugging.”

Emma snickers and pulls away, glancing over her shoulder. “It would be shocking to them. And until we know for sure what we are and where we’re going, we need to keep them in the dark, remember? I don’t want them to get their hopes up.”

“You’re right,” I mumble in a low voice before moving to the island. I glance back at the living room and see the puppy on George’s back, trying to climb up. “No touching around the kids.”

She smiles and hands me a beer. She’s got one in her hand, and we tap bottles. She then moves to the oven, where she bends to take a peek through the window. Obviously, I stare at her arse as she does.

“It’s done,” she announces, opening the oven to pull the pan of shepherd’s pie.

“Need help with that?’ I ask, noting it looks like it probably weighs fifty pounds.

Twisting, she grins. “Sure. I made a double batch to send you home with some leftovers.”

That gets me. Not only she made one of my favourite meals, but she’s also sending me home with leftovers. I pop off the stool, round the island and take the two potholders she’s holding out to me.

After I carefully lift the pan from the oven, she shuts the oven door. I set it down on the two trivets she’s placed on the counter.

Bending over, I inhale the scent deeply. “Smells fantastic.”

Emma bumps her hip against me. “Well… you’ve been pretty amazing these last few weeks, so…”

I bump her hip back before sliding my hand around her waist. Bending my head, I murmur. “Admit it… it’s for the orgasms I gave you after the school run the other day.”

She chuckles with a sly smile. “Possibly.”

Leaning in closer, I touch my temple on the top of her head, lowering to a complete whisper. “You do know that I can give you that any day you want, right, Em? All you’ve got to do is ask.”

“Oh, I will,” she teases.

“What’s going on here?” Minnie says from behind us.

Emma and I jump apart as if we’d been electrocuted by each other. We spin to see Minnie standing there, with George next to her holding Gary in his arms. These two must have worn that pup out as he is still, watching us curiously.

Minnie’s expression, on the other hand, is condemning and suspicious.

“Nothing’s going on, poppet,” Emma says, her voice a little squeaky in panic. It’s adorable.

“Your mum and I were just talking,” I calmly explain.

“With your arm around her waist and whispering,” Minnie challenges. “Looks more like flirting to me.”

“Are you upset about it?” I challenge back. I knew she was upset when we separated and she struggled with it for a long time. 

Her brows knit together. “I’m just confused.”

Emma’s expression indicates she has no clue what to say. I can’t say I’m any more well equipped, but I’m going to take this one. I give my wife a subtle chin tilt, silently telling her I’ll handle this and relief evident in her eyes.

“Come on, you lot. Help me sort Gary’s stuff,” I say, herding them towards the garage. 

All three of them follow me into the garage, Gary still cosy in George’s arms. 

I immediately spot the stack of supplies, which includes a dog crate similar to mine, as well as bowls, a soft dog bed, food and toys. I pick up the soft bed towards the door that leads back into the house. Minnie turns to precede me, but I stop her. “Hang on there a second, poppet.”

When she pivots to face me her expression is guarded. “You asked about your mum and me. What do you want to know?”

“Were you two flirting with each other just now?” She demands. Crap. She’s nine. She’s not supposed to know that stuff. 

I can’t believe I get a little warm in the face at such a question, but I nod. I know it’s probably too soon to tell them but there’s no point in denying this. Both of my children are smart, and they deserve to know what’s going on. 

Her eyes narrow. “So are you… what… getting back together?”

“Does it mean you’re gonna live with us again, daddy?” George chirps.

“Not yet, nuggets. It’s not that simple.”

“It kind of is,” she replies. “You left for months. You didn’t even come during the summer. Then once she started dating Luke-”

“What’s dating?” George turns to his sister.

“It’s when you like someone and they like you back and you become boyfriend and girlfriend then you go out to eat together and do other stuff,” Minnie explains, then she continues. “Then once she started dating Luke, you’re suddenly coming around more often. And then she told me that Luke wouldn’t come over anymore and now you two are making googly eyes at each other.”

We lapse into silence for a moment. I need to think carefully about what to say next. George beats me. “I think I’m dating someone.”

“You what?” My eyes widen.

“Yeah. I asked Poppy in the playground to be my girlfriend the other day and she said yes. Then after we were done playing on the slides we got hungry so she shared her raisins with me. I also let her take a sip of my Ribena.”

I try hard not to break into laughter but Minnie doesn’t even crack a smile. 

“Okay… so here’s the thing. I was very upset. I know that was wrong of me to just leave without saying goodbye, and it was wrong of me for not visiting sooner. I needed time to let it go, and to accept what your mum wanted. But not once during that time did I not want to come back home. I’ve always wanted my family back.”

“Then what changed?” Minnie asks.

“Your mum and I spent some time apart because we both thought that was the best decision. But we were wrong. Because we realised that we didn’t want to be without each other. So now I’m trying to prove that I’ve changed. That I’m a better man, and I’m ready to be a better husband. The one your mum deserves.”

“See,” Minnie murmurs, her expression filled with confusion. George dips his head and rubs his cheek against Gary’s head, who seems to be on the verge of falling asleep. “I don’t get it. You and mum always seemed to get along great. You never argued. I never understood why you left.”

I move in close to my daughter and brush a lock of hair behind her ear. “A lot of that stuff is private between your mum and I, poppet.”

George asks. “But why can’t you just move in now, daddy?”

“It takes time, mate. Your mum and I need more time to sort ourselves out. But I promise you two that we’re trying our hardest here, okay? We need you both to be patient. Can you do that for us?”

They both nod in unison. Gary blinks twice.

“I can’t wait for us to be family again,” says Minnie.

Grinning, I bend to kiss her head. “Me too, poppet…”

***

Emma

“Gary! This way, Gary!”

Harry and I look at each other across this rather windy hilltop. The kids and Gary are exploring the neighbouring bushes and pathways as we perch ourselves on a rock nearby. We take in the view, the breeze biting at my cheeks.

My husband turns to me. “Tea? I put some whisky in it.”

“Hell, why not.”

Harry pours the tea out and we clink mugs. He brushes his thumb across my nose for no absolute reason. I was born and raised here, but this is something I’ll never tire of: these swooping hills and valleys, infinite skies and bracing breezes. As much as I loved London, I’m glad we’ve traded that life with this simpler one. There is no taxi nor Tube in sight but our kids are somehow a little bouncier and carefree. They’re happy here, and that’s all that matters. 

 “Ey up,” greets Harry at a group of people walking past us. They are obviously tourists as they have no way to respond and one of them is wearing bog standard Reebok Classics.

We hear the kids squeal in the distance and we both smile at each other. Getting that pup was probably one of our best decisions.  

“Do you remember when we first dated?” Asks my husband. “You brought me up here.”

I nod. “I do.”

“The view was decent,” he grins. 

“I know you’re not thinking about the view.”

“I was thinking about what happened when we got to the top of the meadow…”

“That was some decent shag,” I chuckle. “Nowadays, I’d worry about getting ticks on my unmentionables.”

We laugh.

I stare over at my husband taking in the view and sipping tea noisily. He always pauses for a moment on any walk to drink it all in. He rustles in his bag and gets a packet of biscuit out, opening the packaging awkwardly and offering it to me. 

“Did you know that you’re supposed to call it ‘niece’ and not ‘nice’? Apparently, they’re named after the French town.”

“That’s proper pub quiz trivia knowledge right there, Styles,” I tease.

We stay up here for a little while, but since it’ll get dark soon, we start our walk back to the car. The one thing you forget about taking kids up mountains (small hills) is that for all that experience of green space and fresh air, eventually, you will have to bring them down. Despite having an entire packet of biscuit (with a whole lot of why did you bring this one? This is rubbish. You could’ve brought hobnobs), we failed to remember to pack enough snacks and a fine drizzle is now scratching at our faces. It takes George much persuading to keep walking and by the time we return to the car, the sun is dipping behind the clouds and the twilight sits in the air. 

Harry decided it was fine to park in a deserted car park in the middle of nowhere to escape the throngs of regular walkers and tourists but strangely enough, when we get back there, we are one of six parked up.

“Come on, mate. Literally, just to the car. Like twenty more steps,” Harry begs our son to keep on walking. 

“You lied!” He complains. “You said that twenty steps ago.”

“I’ve got Haribo in the car.”

He progresses to a light canter. 

“Where did all these cars come from?” Harry asks as he approaches our motor cautiously.

“Maybe you’re not the only smart one here and people are following your lead.”

A car flashes us. 

I look around at all the cars. People are sat in them. What are they waiting for? You see this sometimes when waiting for the rain to pass or when people decide to eat their lunch in the car. 

Suddenly, I hear a car door open and a gentleman approaches us. His footsteps are low.

I know him. It’s Patrick. He’s our postman, so, yes, we have our very own Postman Pat. It was the first thing that tickled Harry when he found out years ago. And even better, the joke is not lost on Pat. His wife even got him a stuffed black and white cat for his cherry-red van window. I smile at recognising him, as do all of the occupants in our car.

“Emma, Harry, kids. Fancy seeing you here, of all places.”

“We’ve got a new dog and we were just taking him for a walk,” I inform him.

“Oh, lovely. What’s his name?”

“Gary,” the kids say in unison.

“Have you got a dog, Pat?” George asks him.

“No, my wife’s a cat lady. But funny you should mention dogs. This place here, people like to come here for that reason.”

“Gary seemed to like it,” pipes in Harry. “I think it’ll be his favourite.”

“That it is. People come here all the time for walking and with their dogs and other such endeavours.” His face looks slightly ashen at this point, his eyes darting towards the other cars. “And the other sense of the word… I just thought I would mention it as you have the littl’uns and it’s getting darker. I think someone just flashed his lights to warn you.”

Harry and I realise what he means exactly at the same time. “OH!” we say at the same gobsmacked volume. 

“Dogg…ing…” Harry mumbles. “We should-”

“Leave, like definitely leave, like now,” I say finishing his sentence.

The kids appear confused. I look around and shield my eyes. I should shield the children’s eyes. Pat’s wife waves from the passenger seat.

“Give our regards to June,” I say.

“Will do.”

He salutes us and returns to his car. The kids have all the questions. “People come here to look at dogs?” George asks. “Where are the dogs?”

“Get. In. The. Car.” Harry mouths very deliberately.

I slink into the passenger seat. Our eyes dart in different directions trying to divert focus from any of the cars ahead. We’ll be good if Harry doesn’t drive us off a cliff face. He turns on the wipers, the engine roars to a start and he pulls away slowly.

“We could have stayed and seen the dogs,” says George, a little despondently. “Gary would’ve loved to see his mates. Wouldn’t you, Gary?”

I throw a packet of Haribo at him. Harry and I are silent. We’ve just strolled our children and our very young dog into an outdoor sex hotspot. We are terrible parents. 

“Who fancies chips?” Harry says as he changes gear. He finds our littles in the rear-view mirror and studies their faces. “There’s a decent chippy down road.”

There’s a chorus of approval from the back seat. My husband smiles. He then moves his hand over from the gearstick to find mine, fingers interlocked, the sky glowing a thousand different colours.

***

“Are you calling my turkey dry?”

I look over at my older sister Suze in the corner of our family kitchen wondering where on earth she had the courage to come out with a comment like that. Even her husband stops washing up to absorb what his wife just said to our mother. I mean, you think it, but you just douse it in gravy and make do. Such is the joy of white chalky meat like turkey. Why do this now? Now she’ll harp on about the bacon she puts on the breasts and all the goose fat. But it’s Suze. She likes the challenge. I secretly think the only way she believes she can have a relationship with our mother is to spar with her regularly so they at least have one line of communication.

“It was a lovely dinner, Mum. Did you make the mince pies?” Suze winks at me.

I shake my head at her and bring the plate of mince pies through to the living room. Amidst my mother’s wreaths and tinsel wrapped around the lampshades, it’s a familiar tableau: Pop, my grandfather, asleep in the armchair in the corner, a holy green paper hat covering his eyes. Small children crawl on the floor and make angel shapes with their bodies amidst remnants of old glittery wrapping paper.  I hope Mum’s made a trifle. My other sister Meg and her husband snooze on a neighbouring sofa, catching on much needed sleep since they just had a baby four months ago and I still remember four months sleep regression is hell. I like this part of Christmas where bits of old crackers litter the floor and twilight takes over.

I take a mince pie and escape to the last vacant spot on the sofa. George rests his head on my knees. “What are you eating, mummy?” I look down at his bright green eyes and wonder how he can still be hungry as he must be ninety per cent roast potato at this point.

“A mince pie.”

“With cow mince?”

“No, like fruity bits,” I pick out said fruity bits and drop them into his mouth like a baby bird. He pulls a face, tasting it, and then walks away.

Harry smiles at me from the bottom of the Christmas tree. He’s laying down on the floor with one of my nieces. He’s always been great with kids, long even before we have our own. My niece has her palm out, and Harry runs circles in it as he sings, “round and round the garden, like a teddy bear…”

She smiles and laughs, poising her fingers, ready to bounce. 

“One step, two-step, tickle me under there,” he pretends to collapse into giggles and my niece’s little face broadens into laughter before she rolls over and walks away to play with her cousins.

Finishing my last bite of the tiny pie, I roll under the tree to join my husband. He looks at me as I cosy up next to him, the lights reflect off his eyes.

My mother likes a real tree for Christmas. It’s the smell, you can’t beat the smell. I like to think you can get that real pine smell from a good supermarket brand toilet cleaner but I don’t say that out loud for fear of incurring her festive wrath. And so there’s always a real tree and like we endured when my siblings and I were teens, there’s still a daily rota of vacuuming up the needles as we watch that bastard go crusty and brown as it’s shoved up against the radiator. 

We lay there in silence, looking up at the branches and my mother’s multicoloured lights twinkling in some erratic fashion that my eyes can’t quite handle. I’ve been to raves that were less of an assault on the senses. It’s an overwhelming memory of our childhood, lying in silence wigging out on mum’s trippy disco lights, absorbing the magic of the season. 

“You’re drunk aren’t you, tipsy-tits?”

“You were the one who poured double shots of Baileys in our coffees this morning,” I cackle.

“That’s called Christmas milk.” 

“What are you doing here?” Minnie asks, her head nestling into my shoulder. I rake pine needles from her head.

“Nothing…” Harry replies. “Where’s yer brother?”

“Here,” George suddenly appears, rolling under the tree next to his dad to join us.

“Looks like the awesome foursome is back, huh?” Harry grins.

Minnie and George hum in agreement. I can see my babies smiling. 

It’s time.

“Harry?”

“Yeah?” 

I take a deep breath. “Will you come back home with us?”

-

tag list: @gohometoacactus @just-here-to-escape-from-reality @kikisparadise18 @2am-2pm @rogersdirty-louse @harrys-cherriesss @icycoldbeanieweanies @niallbestie3 @peakascum @coucoukayy @awesomebooklover17 @sunflowerryvol6 @stylessugarhigh​ @umadirectioner​ ​

[lustbile]

Hold On

TaeyongxReader

Word Count: 3.7k

Summary/Warnings: based of this really old post here. Smut, stuffed animal kink?

first fic on the new blog! I’m losing my mind,

~~

You’d be slightly embarrassed to admit that the second Taeyong handed you the stuffed animal, it was as if it glued itself to your hands.

Yes you were slightly obsessed with the soft toy, but in your defense, it was the first present the boy had ever presented to you. Not only that, but it was also incredibly soft and, in its time spent hidden in Taeyong’s room as he tried to build the courage to give it to you, it had become permanently marked with his scent. These things, combined with its size, made it a perfect pillow.

So it never moved an inch from its corner of your bed. Waiting patiently every day for you to curl up, ready for sleep, and for you to pull it tightly into your chest. The only times it went untouched for the night, is the times you instead found yourself laid in the nest that was Taeyong’s bed, and it’s job as your pillow being taken over by his warm chest.

It was just a teddy bear. As classic as it could get with its brown fur and button eyes, but something about seeing it for the first time made Taeyong immediately think of you. You hadn’t been officially dating for too long, but he’d never forgive himself if he didn’t buy it right then and there, he just never anticipated how much nerve he’d have to build to actually give it to you.

But when he finally did, he was sure he had never seen something so adorable. The way your face lit up as you pulled it tightly against your chest, your neck bending slightly as you pressed your face into the fur. He could feel his chest tighten in endearment and his voice came out in nervous stutters when you thanked him with the same warm smile that was starting to feel exactly like home.

And he told himself, your reaction was what he found so cute. Yeah you holding it and cuddling into it was cute, but he was focused on your happiness.

So he didn’t really understand the way his stomach flipped when you let him into your room only days after to watch some movies and he saw it sitting perfectly next to your pillow as if it was waiting to see him again.

He shook off the weird feeling quickly, telling himself that he was just happy that you enjoyed the gift so much. And for that night it worked, and you innocently watched movies without a problem.

It wasn’t until about a week later did he have to admit that there was something else going on.

Same setting as the movie night only a handful of days before. Warm and cuddled into your bed, the sound softly pumping from the speakers of your tv. The soft brown teddy bear placed in his designated spot next to your pillow.

The only difference was his tongue rolling slowly over your clit and the quiet moans that fell from your lips.

The atmosphere in your room is so much softer than he’s ever experienced when he’s done stuff like this. Your muscles are completely loose as you sink into your mattress, the pleased noises you let out and the way your fingers tangle in his hair are the only indications that you’re still awake, as when his mouth first touched you, your eyes were sliding shut.

Your legs lay loosely against his back as he works you with his hot tongue. There’s no sense of urgency or impatience, allowing him to get a full taste of the arousal that builds between your legs. His hands smooth gently across the warm skin of your stomach letting him feel the muscles underneath the skin tense every time he hits a spot you particularly enjoy.

The second noises started coming from your pretty lips, his eyes had been trained on you. Watching the way the muscles in your face twitch and your eyelashes flutter against your cheeks every time he sucks the flesh of you clit tightly between his lips.

“Fuck Tae, I’m gonna come,” you whisper a warning, your fingers tightening around his scalp. He happily hums against you making you jerk and groan. He’s so enthralled by the way you start to squirm in pleasure, he’s thrown completely off guard at the feeling that hits him when you do it.

The hand that isn’t caught tangled in his hair starts to move eratically. He’s seen it before when you two had messed around. The promise of an orgasm making you so delirious your fingers would desperately search for something to ground you, but seeing that you usually only mess around in his room, you tend to find solace in crumpled up sheets. But in your bed, your fingers instead lock around your beloved teddy bear, and you’re pulling it to rest against your shoulder as you start to come hard on his waiting tongue.

You don’t seem to notice the quiet gasp he lets out when he sees this, as you’re too caught up with the orgasm that rips at your core. Luckily, regardless of his shock, he’s still able to lav his tongue against you to make it last just moments longer.

He’s unfamiliar with the feeling that claws at his stomach as he watches you twitch and shake with the stuffed toy lovingly gripped in your fingers. Something about it is so sweet and endearing while simultaneously makes him feel like he’s losing his mind.

He’s so thrown off by it, he decides to not bring it up, and even when you’re desperately pleading for him to let you wrap your lips around him in return, he can only wrap you in his arms and your blanket and tell you that it’s too late and you need to go to sleep.

And for a while after that, he didn’t really have to think about it. His room is the usual setting for your sexual escapades, that one time in yours was just an act of taking advantage that your roommate was out visiting family. So realistically he should have just put it aside and forgot about it, but that would just be too easy.

He thinks about it often. The scenes of it flashing randomly through his mind while he works or plays games, and he even shamefully thought about it when he was alone and touching himself to the thought of you. But it was at its absolute worst when you were together. Every time he pushed a whine past your lips, or when you started to come around him, a little demon in his brain would say, ‘now imagine if there was that cute little bear you got, just in perfect arms reach to grab.’

He just didn���t get it! What was it about you holding it as you came that got in his head so much. The amount of time he spent staring blankly at the wall trying to pick apart this new kink of his was bordering embarrassing, but he decided it was a combination of things. First, he always liked stuffed animals, he had a few himself that he’d push to the floor when you came to stay. Second, he liked you, a lot (that being a very easy factor to discover), and he liked making you come just as much.

Another factor was he knew it had something to do with it being a gift he gave you and how you would even refer to it as his bear as if he still owned it in some way. But the last, and probably most prominent factor, was that it was just cute enough to be corruptible. He knew that something about him making you feel so good and come so hard, that your mind would go blank, so blank that the first thing you’re subconscious mind would turn to is the soft and warm comfort item that he bought you, made him feel unhinged.

And he wanted to do it again.

——

First, he wanted to test if it was just that bear, or if it could be any stuffed toy he had a connection to.

You were coming over again and he was dead set on fucking you. This was this least uncommon thing in the world, but this time he just forgot to move one stuffed animal off his bed before he had sat down in only a pair of loose sweatpants to play games.

The large baby pink rabbit laid in the center of his bed when you walked in, seemingly keeping it warm as he sat at his desk playing games. You had seen it before so it hadn’t shocked you, but it was odd that he hadn’t moved it to sit on the floor at the end of his bed like usual.

But you weren’t one to complain, about the toy at least, so you just flopped as loudly onto his bed as possible and began calling his name and jokingly begging for attention like you’d do any other time.

He felt like an evil genius as he turned his chair slowly to face you, a deceivingly sweet smile pulling on his lips when he saw you had already claimed the soft rabbit without thought, the toy that had been seeped in his scent now tucked into your chest as you all but spoon it with your nose pressed against its ear. And his heart beat only ran faster when, as he stood to walk over to where you lay, he saw the way you subconsciously hug it tighter as if you feared he’d take it from you.

“You like the new friend you found?” He asks it in a taunting tone.

“Well yeah,” you keep your hold on the toy as you turn to lay on your back, your legs falling open as he stands between them, “you always put it away from me, so I have to take as much time with it as I can get.”

“Well then I won’t put it away this time baby since you like it so much,” he finishes his words with a huff, his eyes trailing across the scene below him. The way you’re laid out, soft and comfortable against his bedding while holding the toy, you’re so pretty and sweet smiling up at him, it’s enough to push him to put his plan into action.

“You don’t plan on letting it go at any point tonight?” he asks with a slight teasing tone, but the expression he wears tells you he still expects an answer. You shake your head softly in response, tightening your arms around it and your legs around his hips to prove it even more, “well if that’s the case…”

His fingers wrap around the bend of your knees, pulling them up higher on his hips and tugging you down the bed enough that your crotch brushes against his. He only grins and runs his cold fingers up your thighs when you grumble in response.

“do you think you can still hold on to it while I fuck you?” he asks so casually, a tilt to his head being the only indication of his mischievous mind set, that it throws you off for a moment.

“While you what?” you finally find the push to respond, your brain taking a moment to piece your thoughts together.

“While I fuck you,” he enunciates clearly, his eyes boring into yours as he reaches for the band of your pajama shorts.

He leaves you stuttering and shocked as his cold fingers dip below the fabric of your underwear, and as you lie there still trying to process his words, he tugs your shorts and underwear down and throws them behind his shoulder.

“What do you say baby?” he doesn’t give you time to respond before he’s bending forward, his head tilting as if he is scolding you as he pushes a slender finger into where your arousal begins to build, “you’d like to hold onto your cute little friend while I ruin you wouldn’t you.”

“Fuck Tae please,” you finally gasp out, your hips tilting towards him and your nails sinking into the soft fur of the rabbit.

“So cute,” he coos at you as he slowly works you with one finger, brushing his chapped lips and nose over the skin of your face as he waits for you to get wet enough for a second.

When he finally does, you’re panting. Your breath warm and gasping as his middle and ring fingers pump into you faster than you had mentally prepared for.

The heel of his palm digs into your clit while his greedy mouth devours the skin of your neck, and the pleasure that shoots throughout your nerves leaves you whining and squirming beneath him.

You don’t need to answer his original question. With the way he works you now, you can’t imagine letting the grip you have on his stuffed animal go even if you wanted. The soft fur being the only thing grounding you as you fall apart around his fingers.

He’s brought back to the first moment in your room when he hears the whining pitch that you fall into with your moans. The flush of warmth that runs over him from noises you make makes his whole body tense and causes a chain reaction when his fingers curl inside you, making you yelp in shock.

The growl he lets out when your free hand grabs his bicep and your nails dig into his skin is involuntary, but the harsh bite he sinks into your neck is retaliation.

You sound like you're bordering on hyperventilating when he sucks the skin between his teeth into his mouth to form a bruise, and with only a few more rolls of his palm, you feel pleasure shoot up your spine as you start to come.

Your eyes are watering as you wrap yourself around him, the toy squishing between your shoulders as you cling to him and whine. His fingers don’t slow down in the slightest as he works you through the orgasm, the way you tremble and curl around him with the toy still in your hold has his mind reeling and he can’t push himself to calm down.

Your mind is still fuzzy when he finally pulls away, and with the quickness of his motions, you don’t even connect that his fingers aren’t still pressed into you.

His still wet fingers curl around the bend of your knee, and he's pushing your knee towards your chest before you can even collect your scattered mind, and it's not until he’s sinking into you inch by inch do you come back to reality with a gasp.

“Look at my sweet baby,” he taunts as he shallowly rocks into you. His free hand trails up your side, taking a moment to tug at the rabbit and smile at the way you defensively hold it tighter, before wrapping his fingers gently around your neck, “you’re just so sensitive that you need your little friend huh?”

“Pleeeease,” your voice shakes as you let out the only word your shivering body allows.

He stands straight now as he harshly knocks into you, leaving your free hand to grasp frantically his crumpled sheets as your pushed higher on the bed.

He’s had you beneath him more times than he could count, every time he remembers as being more amazing than he could imagine, but something about this is different.

Your chest radiates warmth as you pant and moan, the muscles in your legs twitching harshly as you try to keep up with the pleasure you feel. Your eyes flutter as you try to watch him, your body rocks subconsciously as you try to match his motions, and you clench tightly around him making him spill just as many noises as you.

Though, of everything you do, the one thing he can’t pull his eyes away from, is the way you still cling onto his toy.

He had convinced himself that, even if you agreed to it, that the stuffed toy would be long forgotten once things got started, but the way you lay in front of him now, tells him you have no intention of letting go.

He can almost feel his heart beat in his throat as he watches you. The way you curl and arch against his bed, how cute you look in your old tshirt with the rabbit’s head pushing gently against your temple, makes him feel like he’s been handed heaven on a silver platter.

He can't imagine anything more beautiful than the scene in front of him, until he sees your hand wandering again.

Instead of reaching for his shoulder or his hands like usual, your fingers trail down your own skin. The way your face twists in pleasure tells him your hand moves with almost no thought, and before he can move to grab it, your rolling your clit softly beneath the pads of middle and ring fingers.

“You wanna come again that bad?” he doesn’t mean to sound mean when he asks, but there’s a mischievous energy in his chest he’s never really felt before this moment. He can’t help the pridefulness and glee he feels at you being so willing to indulge in his off requests, and he admits right then that this is something he’ll never let go. That night so long ago wasn’t a fluke at all, but rather you whining and moaning as you fall apart around him was just as beautiful and raunchy as he had hoped.

“Pretty little thing, you’ve always been insatiable,” he would have almost felt like a school bully with the way he spoke to you, but the shivering and puppy eyes he gets from you in response only encourages him.

“Please Taeyong, please please make me come,” you pout and plead up at him, the feeling you crave only a few pushes away as your stomach flutters and flexes in anticipation and pleasure, “want you to come in me so bad.”

He feels something inside him snap at the words that push past your lips, and the hand around your neck and his thrusts only become rougher. A yelping gasp that comes from you is the only thing he needs to know he’s done exactly what you wanted.

With a few more rolls of your cramping fingers, you're coming hard around him. Your second orgasm hits you harder than the first, the way he continues to stretch you pushing you through every second, and all you can do is squeeze the toy rabbit as your back arches sharply off the bed.

He loses the grip on your knee as your legs wrap around him, and the way you force him against you and the way you feel wrapped around him sets his own orgasm off. The pleasure making his chest press against your as you two rock against one another mindlessly.

His voice is raspy and dark as he lets out his own moans into your ear, and the noises only make you grasp for him to pull him closer. Your fingers curl into his hair as you return to a position similar to the one you only had momentarily after your first orgasm, but this time your clinging pushes him to the side and his moans slip into endeared chuckles, grunts, and groans.

You make no move to let him slip from you as he softens inside you, but instead you wiggle until your face is pressed into the dip of his neck and the rabbit is pressed against his side as you hold them both. You’re still racked with aftershocks, and the only thing you two can do is twitch against each other as every motion pushes him against the nerves inside you, making overstimulation bite at both of your bellies.

After what feels like an eternity of laying there, the only sounds surrounding you is your own panting and the quiet sound of the pause screen music coming from his game. But with a quiet huff and his fingers pushing under your shirt to run over your spine, he finally speaks again.

“Sorry… if that was ...weird,” he sounds unsure of his wording, sucking air through his teeth as he rolls his thoughts around his mind, but you only cuddle further into him in response, “I get it if that’s not something you’d ever want to do again.”

“Hm?” you let the noise slip out in confusion as it takes the words and your previous actions connect, “oh the stuffed animal?”

“Yeah that was… I could have asked before instead of springing it on you like that, that was kind of weird,” you can hear him grit his teeth in hesitation, “and I know you’re into the dirty talk thing but I was a little harsh. It was all just weird I’m sorry.”

“Taeyong,” you push up with your elbow on the bed to move just far enough away to look into his eye, “I mean if you’d be more comfortable bringing it up beforehand when you want to try something then of course, but no what just happened was really hot.”

“Are you serious?”

You have to jerk back slightly with a laugh when he springs up slightly with his own words, but the way you grin at him calms him almost instantly.

“Yeah I mean, the way you acted and everything, and I’m absolutely not against getting to hold onto something while you fuck me, I liked it,” you let out a dramatically airy sigh as you lay against him again, a question popping into your mind once you’re settled.

“Where did this idea even come from, I’m usually never anywhere near your stuffed animals when I come over?”

“Oh, um I doubt you remember but one day when I was at your place, you grabbed that little bear I got you when you were coming and I just never could stop thinking about it,” he admits trailing off towards the end, almost shameful.

“My bear!” you’re sitting up again, a scandalized look on your face as you swat at his chest, “that’s my most prized possession you pervert!”

“Hey! You’re the one that grabbed it while coming, pervert!”

[anonymousfiction211]

You always have a choice: 1

Summary: Loki and you are in prison together. An oppertunity presents itself and the two fo you can escape. But things take an unexpected turn.

Word count: 3.585 words

Warnings: Angst, mention of torture and abuse (but not in detail what happened), eventually smut!

A/N: Hope you like it! If you have any ideas, requests or comments, plese let me know.

Click here for chapter 2

‘Can you breathe any louder?’ Loki asked you irritatingly. Like your punishment couldn’t get any worse, you had to share a cell with the God of Mischief and Lies. The only upside was his mother, making sure he had plenty of books, a comfy chair, and a table. She even got him a bed, even tough it was one bed. Even her influence was limited, but you were more than grateful for these extra’s in your shared cell. Of course, Loki wouldn’t let you sleep in the bed. No, you should be happy he was not making you sleep on the floor. He gave you the chair to sleep in instead, bastard.

‘What was that, dear?’ you asked innocently. You knew how annoyed he would get when you called him by a nickname. Loki certainly was a dominant man, and nicknames was not something he accepted. You smirked when he didn’t answer you, he just grumbled at the name you gave him. You grabbed one of his books and began to read it. You were halfway the first chapter when you hear an annoying voice say ‘Who told you that you could grab my things?’

‘Come on, I’m bored out of my mind. It’s not like you need all these books at the same time’ you argued back. Loki, who was sitting on the floor against the wall, got up and strut towards you. He slapped the book out of your hands. The book went flying against the wall, the barrier burned it a bit. It made a hard sound when it hit the floor. ‘Those are MINE’ he growled. He didn’t move from his position, trying to dominate you with his stance. You were still sitting on the floor on the opposite side from where he sat. You weren’t having this. You looked him straight in his eyes ‘The fact that I’m stuck in here is also YOURS’ you said back.

Loki gave you a mean glare but returned to his original position, sitting across the ground on the other side of the cell. You had to admit, it wasn’t entirely his fault that the two of you were stuck in this cell. You had to steal the Tesseract from Odin’s fault, and it took a long time planning the heist too. Everything was in place, until he had to ruin it, of course. You knew he was planning on taking the Tesseract himself, some people close to him told you. But the idiot hadn’t taking into account the new alarm system. So, when he set it off the guards were gathering around you. They saw you holding the Tesseract and Loki standing right behind you. Your explanation to the Allfather didn’t matter, what you did was wrong and both of you needed to be punished.

You could handle the imprisonment, it wasn’t the first time you were. But imprisonment with him was. And you knew he hated it as much as you. You were convinced the only reason Odin put you in a cell together, was to add a sting to Loki’s sentence. You looked around the prison, your cell was the only on with furniture and books, thanks to Frigga. How the other prisoners coped, you did not know. You turned your attention back to Loki. He licked the tip of his index finger and turned a page. You got up and sat in the chair, also known as your bed.

‘Loki, I’m bored’ you whined to him. ‘That is not my problem, tell someone who cares’ he replied. ‘You are the only one here’ you sighed. ‘How lucky are you’ he said sarcastically. ‘What, if you weren’t there I wouldn’t be caught. Unlike you, I had an escape plan´ you argued. Loki just smirked ‘What was your escape plan on Jotunheim?’ he asked. The remark gave you flashbacks to the time you tried to steal the source of powers from the Frost Giants. But Loki interrupted you suddenly, because he was there with Thor and the Warrior Three on a different quest. You hadn’t had an escape plan and spend the next six months in this prison. After that you ran into him in a sleezy bar far away from Asgard, right before he tried to take over Midgard. You should have known he faked his death. Even tough you hated him, you had to admit he didn’t look like himself. He looked awful.

When you heard the Tesseract was on Midgard, you went yourself. When you saw him on Midgard he looked even more terrible. His hair was a mess, he had dark circles under his eyes and was walking with a limp. Something that was weir, considering he healed fast. But you didn’t care, you had a mission the finish. If you didn’t you would pay for it with your life. It was annoying that Loki himself wanted the same thing you were after. You felt Loki trying to invade your mind. ‘Stop it’ you yelled. Hoping that he would, because you didn’t know how to stop this kind of attack. Loki just smirked and returned to his book.

Your favourite guard brought the two of you your lunch. ‘Thank you, Baldar’ you said when he opened a small part of the barrier and slide two meals inside. ‘My pleasure’ Balder replied politely. You saw Loki role his eyes at the interaction, but he didn’t say anything, You grabbed your tray and began to eat the meal, it tasted terrible. ‘How is it?’ Loki asked. ‘What do you think?’’ you replied. Loki got up, grabbed his tray, and tasted it You smiled when you saw his face scrunch. ‘I may have found something more terrible than you’ he said while scrunching his face.

The rest of the midday, you two didn’t speak to each other. You grabbed another book and luckily Loki didn’t smash it from you. The lights were going off and you realised was night-time. You had enough of the chair you were sleeping in and decided to lay down on the bed. ‘What do you think you’re doing?’ Loki asked, when he saw you laying down in his bed. ‘I’m going to sleep you answered while pulling the blankets closer to your chest. Loki must have been tired because he didn’t argue with you. He just sighed and walked towards the bed.

He laid beside you. Just before you drifted to sleep, he grabbed your throat. ‘What game are you playing?’ he asked. You tried to not be intimidated ‘Look, I needed the Tesseract, I wasn’t planning to use it for my own. But even if I do get out now, I’m in trouble’ you finally snapped. You had no interest in telling him your problems, but knew that lying to him was pointless. Loki didn’t say anything for a long time. He let go of your throat and laid back down facing you. ‘What if I’m in that predicament too?’ he asked you. You didn’t know how to respond to that. Loki could never know that you encountered Thanos and that he expected you to deliver the Tesseract. He didn’t have to know what you went trough, it was too painful to think about. You didn’t know what situation Loki got himself into, but you couldn’t let him best you anymore. Thanos’ patience had run out and you were in serious trouble. ‘Trust me, it’s not the same’ you replied. You closed your eyes and turned around.

It was the middle of the night when you woke from a loud explosion. ‘What is happening?’ you asked. You looked around your cell and saw another cell with its barrier breached. A prisoner was freeing some of the other inmates from different cells. This was your chance! Before you moved you felt one of Loki’s arms retracting from your sides. ‘Well, good luck to you, daring’ he purred. Was he just cuddling you? You decided not to dwell on it. You grumbled at him, you hated when he called you by a nickname, and you knew he knew that. The prison was now absolute in chaos. Guards were running around, and more and more barriers were breached. It didn’t take long before the barrier of your cell was broken. Loki and you exchanged a look before running in the opposite way from each other.

The chaos was your moment of opportunity. You ran towards the vault, there were only two guards guarding the door. You took them both out quickly and entered the vault. You ran to the end of the hall. There you saw it, the emulating light blue cube that you needed to escape whatever death Thanos had in store for you. You picked up the Tesseract when you heard a voice behind you ‘I wouldn’t do that if I were you’.

‘You have no idea what you’re talking about. Just leave me alone’ you said.

‘If you bring him that he is just going to send you to get another stone. If you fail him you die, if you don’t and he succeeds that chance of you dying is about 50 percent’ Loki told you.

You just stared at Loki with wide eyes. ‘How do you know that?’ you asked. He took a few steps towards you, standing very close before you. ‘I’ve been doing everything in my power to stop Thanos, you on the other hand have not been making that task easy’ he growled.

‘How do you know about him?’ you yelled.

‘There was a time he thought I was working for him. I know more about him than you might think’ he answered.

‘Then you know I have no choice, I’ll be dead if I don’t do this’

‘I didn’t do it and I’m still alive’ he quipped back.

‘Unlike you I don’t have magic to help me’ you took a step back and turned around. Ready to teleport with the Tesseract out of the vault. Loki grabbed your wrist and spun you back around. ‘You have me’ he said.

‘What?’ you asked absolutely stunned. ‘There’s always a choice, darling. You have three options. One, you give him the stone and probably die serving him the rest of your life. Two, you hide on your own, but he surely finds you and you die anyway. And don’t for a second think it would be quick and painless. We both know Thanos doesn’t do that.’ Tears were starting to form in your eyes, thinking back to all the torture you had been put trough. You noticed the look in Loki’s eyes, you saw something vulnerable in them. ‘What is the third one?’ you asked. ‘You come with me, I’ll keep you safe. And we think of a plan to stop him’ he gave you a genuine smile.

‘You hate me, why would you do that?’ you asked.

‘Just because we’re enemies doesn’t mean I hate you. We both did what needed to be done to survive. But, you have 10 seconds to decide before an army of guards burst through those doors’

For a few seconds you looked at him and thought over your options. Did you really have a choice? you thought. ‘Fine, I’ll go with you’ you said before your time was up. Loki engulfed you in a hug and a green shimmer formed around you. You started to feel dizzy and closed your eyes, leaning on Loki. You heard him chuckle. ‘As much as I enjoy this, you can open your eyes and let go now’ he said. You did as he said and found yourself standing in the middle of a cottage. ‘Where are we?’ you asked. ‘My safehouse somewhere in the woods on Midgard. You can relax, Thanos won’t find you here. I put up shields, nobody knows we’re here’ he answered.

You moved around the cottage. It was slightly bigger than the cell you just escaped from. There was a fire burning in the hearth, with in front of it a very comfy looking couch. There was a big bookcase with a desk and a comfortable lounge chair. The kitchen was small, but all the essentials were there. There was one door which led to the bathroom, with only a shower, sink, and a toilet. When you closed the door and stood in the main room you noticed that there was one large bed. You glared at Loki ‘I’m not sleeping in a chair again’ you said. Loki laughed ‘The bed is big enough for two, I think you’ll be fine’

‘One thing, I need you to hand me the Tesseract. My shiels may hide us, but they can still sense it is here’

You doubted giving him the cube. He saw the doubt in your eyes. ‘I made a promise to keep you safe, all you need to do is trust me’ he added.

‘Would you trust you?’ you asked.

‘Probably not, but I need you to’ he said back.

You took a deep breath and gave him the Tesseract. What choice did you have anyway? A green shimmer started to shine over the cube, and it slowly disappeared in his hands. He gave you a reassuring smile. Despite the fire burning you felt a little cold. ‘I’m going back to bed’ you said. Loki nodded, followed you and laid down next to you. Even tough the bed had room for four people in it, Loki laid close enough for you to feel his warmth. The orange light of the fire was dancing over his face, and you noticed that Loki was quite an attractive man. The only thing you wanted to do that moment was cuddle closer, lay on his chest and fall asleep while he was holding you close to him. You were wondering what sparked these feelings. You never thought about him that way. But then again, this was the first time you felt safe in a very long time. He made you feel safe.

‘See something you like?’ Loki smirked. That was when you realized that you were staring a bit too long at him. You felt yourself starting to blush. You wanted to turn around, but Loki put a hand on your shoulder to stop you. He moved closer to you and you froze, not knowing how to react. He didn’t stop until his lips almost touched yours. He looked in your eyes intently, waiting for you to make a move. You shut your eyes and closed the distance between the two of you. His lips started to move softly against yours. The way his lips felt on yours, you needed more, more of him. You put a hand on his neck and deepened the kiss. Loki eagerly returned your affection by sliding his tongue in your mouth. His hand trailed from your shoulder to your lower back. He pulled you closer to him. You put a hand under his t-shirt, starting to explore his chest and abbs. Loki started to kiss down your neck and you felt him smile against your skin.

He stopped to crawl on top of you and removed his shirt. You couldn’t keep his hands off him. He ducked back down to kiss you. He starting to kiss you deeper and faster. Your hands started to stroke his back and you opened your legs to pull him closer. He moaned into your mouth. It spurred you on to undo the button of his pants. ‘Eager, aren’t you?’ Loki smirked at you. You stayed silence and pulled his pants from his bottom. He helped you by taking them off completely. You tried to pull him down to kiss you, but he grabbed your hands and put them down beside your head. ‘Now, I don’t think this is quite fair’ he said. ‘Well, I always was a few steps ahead of you’ you smirked. Loki let out a low growl. He found the clasp of your dress and unlocked it, immediately pulling the fabric from your body. You laid beneath him, in your lingerie. ‘If I knew you were this underneath your clothes, I would have done this much sooner’ he whispered to you.

He started to kiss you, while his hands were roaming your body. You did the same and couldn’t help but land your hands on his butt. You give him a light squeeze, making Loki moan hard. You really liked this side of him. He undid your bra and hooked his fingers on the side of your thong. ‘Wait’ you said. Loki immediately froze and looked at you questionably. ‘What’s wrong?’ he asked. You felt a little bad, seeing the worry in his eyes. ‘Nothing, I just want you to undress first’ you smirked at him. Luckily, your comment put the twinkle back in his eyes. ‘Have you earned that?’ he challenged you. ‘I’ve bested you in most situations, so yeah, I’ve earned it’ you grinned widely at him. He just chuckled ‘I will let you think that, but you still haven’t earned it, darling’ he said. He pulled your thong down and you were now completely naked underneath him.

‘You look absolutely beautiful’ he sighed while kissing your stomach, trailing downwards. You thought he was going for your clit, but instead he just resumes kissing you. His lips went to your hips and your upper thigh, down towards your knees. He trailed back upwards, but still was avoiding the place you needed him the most. ‘Loki’ you panted. ‘Hmm, say that again’ he hummed. His lips trailed further upwards until he reached your neck. ‘Loki, please’ you panted again. You felt him hum again, and he sunk his teeth in your neck. You hissed from the sudden action, he didn’t bite down hard, it was enough for you to feel alive but not hard enough to actually pierce your skin. ‘If you want something, all you got to do is ask’ he purred. ‘You really think you got the upper hand here, do you?’ you asked. Loki didn’t have to answer you, his face said it all. He did.

That’s when you bucked your hips and rolled against his. You felt his erection clearly through his fabric. Your wetness left a small stain on his boxers, only adding friction to your movement. Loki let out a silent moan. He replicates the movement and didn’t stop. The fabric of his boxers between the two of you felt thicker each time he slid it against your core. Loki let out a hard growl ‘Fuck it’ he said. You were a bit shocked, you never heard Loki curse before, he always kept his composure. He leaned back a bit and undid himself of his boxer. He laid back down on top of you, putting more weight on you than before. ‘Normally I would play with you for hours, but right now I need you’ he whispered in your ear. Without any hesitation you opened your legs more and felt Loki enter you. He certainly was bigger than you first anticipated. He filled you up like you never had before. You felt every movement he made, every vein on his cock and it felt like Valhalla itself. Loki, who was thrusting slowly in and almost out of you, picked up the pace. The length of his erection reached all the way to your G-spot. The way he hit that sensitive spot inside of you made squeeze around his cock. He started to moan, grunt and curse under his breath.

He didn’t slow down. The way he fucked you could only be described as animalistic. Like he was denied his release for so long, he couldn’t hold back anymore. You put your hands in his hair and pulled him down for a kiss. He started to kiss you like he was fucking you. Leaving fast and open mouth kisses on your mouth, your cheek, and your neck. His put a leg over his shoulder and you felt his fingertips grab you hips tighter. You knew for sure his kisses and hands would leave you bruised the next morning. But you didn’t mind that people could see you were his, you knew he was doing this for that reason on purpose. ‘I’m close’ Loki panted. He put one of his fingers on your clit, drawing circles on it with much pressure. The only thing you could do was moan his name. You moaned it over and over again. Loki grabbed your chin and kissed you. He broke the kiss to let out a loud grunt. Your orgasm hit you hard and you felt his seed spill inside of you.

Loki pumped in and out of you a few more times, before he collapsed on his back beside you.

‘That was amazing’

he panted. You were out of breath and the only thing you did was hum in agreement. After Loki had cleaned himself up, you went into the bathroom to do the same. When you walked back to the bed you saw Loki almost drifting to sleep. He looked innocent and pure in that moment. You crawled into the bed and he immediately grabbed you and pulled you close to him.

‘I’m never letting you go’

he whispered to you.

‘You better not’

you quipped back. He nuzzled his face further in the crook of your neck. His arms tightened around you. For the first time you felt safe, peaceful, and relaxed. The problems the two of you were facing would come tomorrow, but right now, everything was perfect.

[cherienymphe]

Rapture (Sherlock Holmes x Reader)

WARNINGS: NON-CON, loss of virginity

!!! DNI IF THIS OFFENDS YOU !!!

➥ {page breaks done by @firefly-graphics​ }

summary: taking on the case of the disappearance of your father, Sherlock Holmes finds himself drawn to you, the daughter who holds more mystery than any riddle he’s ever encountered

~

“Y/N, keep your chin up, dear.”

Swallowing down your ire, you listened to your mother and did just that, raising your chin and pushing your shoulders back. A soft breeze ruffled the skirt of your dress, and goosebumps erupted over your arms underneath your sleeves. You could hear your mother fussing over your sister, lightly scolding her for the dress she’d picked out, something about the color.

“We want to look our best for when Mr. Holmes arrives,” you heard her say.

You heard your sister let out a soft huff, having no desire to hide her annoyance. Those classes your mother made her attend weren’t doing much for her character, but she was young. No longer a child but not yet a woman, instead stuck in that place in between. You did not yearn for those days…

You did once, longed for the innocence and ignorance that clouded your childhood, but adulthood had long taught you that ignorance was not bliss. Ignorance kept people blind from the truth, and some truths needed to be known.

Your mother’s change in tone alerted you to the carriage that was being pulled into the yard. A soft sigh escaped you as it drew near, a far cry from your sister’s intrigue, eyes wide and neck strained in order to get a better look. The three of you were poised on the steps in front of the grand house, having been patiently waiting for Mr. Holmes’ arrival.

Sherlock Holmes.

The detective whose name was known far and wide was arriving to help none other than your family. Out of all of the possibilities that had taken up residence in your mind, the infamous Sherlock Holmes taking on the case of your missing father had never been one of them. You supposed that you shouldn’t be shocked that the mysterious disappearance of the wealthy patriarch had caught the man’s attention. It was all anyone could seem to talk about these days…

All three of you watched the mountain of a man step out of the carriage, but for three very different reasons. Your sister was curious, intrigued by this new person, a new puzzle to figure out, a thing to study and observe. Outside of father, your sister had never interacted with many males in her life. Your mother looked at the dark-haired gentleman like a beacon of hope, a savior to bring her peace in some form or another. You, on the other hand, you watched him like a snake would a hawk.

If you didn’t keep an eye on him, he could very well eat you alive.

“Mr. Holmes,” your mother rushed to greet him, and the contents of your stomach tossed at the relief you heard in her voice.

In her mind, he had already solved the case and returned your missing father to you. She was comforted by the detective’s mere presence, and you grimaced.

“It is an honor to have you here. Truly. You do not know what it means to me and my girls,” she told him, voice already shaking.

“It is no great deal to me, madam. I wish to find your husband just as much as you do, to bring peace and relief back to your household.”

You shifted on your feet, hands clasped in front of you as the low timber of his voice reached your ears. It was smooth, soft even, but no means wavering. His steady diction exhibited his refined background that you’d heard so much about, and you warily eyed him.

He towered over your mother, making the strong woman look so incredibly fragile to the point that it scared you. You suddenly had the urge to push him away. As your mother conversed with him, your sister tiptoed to your side, admiration in her voice as her lips brushed your ear.

“He is quite handsome, isn’t he?” she said, surprising you.

She had never expressed any interest in boys, but Mr. Holmes clearly struck something in her that even she could not ignore. As you ran your eyes over him, you found you were unable to deny the truth in her words. His features were indeed striking, the kind of face that artists begged to paint. His dark brows and hair complimented his eyes, strong jawline and pink lips moving fluidly as he talked to your mother. His curls gave a boyish quality to his otherwise manly countenance, and you had the brief thought of touching them, wondering if they were as soft as they looked.

“…and these are my daughters,” your mother’s voice reached you as she neared, the imposing man a step behind her.

Both you and your sister greeted him properly, your sister’s name falling from his lips as your mother honed in on her. You sent him a small smile when your mother gestured to you, and he returned it, eyes alight as she introduced you.

“This is my oldest, Y/N. My pride and joy,” she praised.

Your sister squirmed beside you, and you frowned.

“Mother,” you quietly admonished to which she quickly brushed off.

“Oh, hush. She will bring greatness to our name just as her father did. Rest assured, she will be a great help to you,” she told him.

He eyed you with something unknown as your mother continued to speak praises to your name, and you looked away, gaze landing on your sister instead as you took her hand. She had begun to shrink in on herself, and you swallowed down a sigh.

Your mother wanted her youngest to be something she was not. She wanted her to be you, but the young girl couldn’t ever be anyone but herself. And you didn’t understand why mother would want her to. It was a great source of insecurity and frustration for your sister, to constantly be compared to yourself, and it hurt you to see the adventurous girl make herself small.

“Do come in,” your mother ushered him inside.

Mr. Holmes followed her, and you and your sister him, your eyes never straying from his broad form. You’d heard of his skills, his observation, but of course you had never seen the man in action before. At first glance, it seemed like an innocent perusal, as if he were simply taking in the new scenery, admiring it. However, it didn’t take long to realize that he was taking note of every detail. Every plant, every painting that was askew, even the liquor cabinet, eyeing which liquors were consumed the most.

Your mother was prattling on about nonsense, and Mr. Holmes had already begun to work.

“Tell me, when did Mr. Y/L/N disappear?” he suddenly murmured, fingering a plant on a nearby table.

“Tomorrow will make it…what is it? Three weeks without him?”

She looked to the two of you, and you both nodded.

“Three weeks,” she confirmed. “We only noticed his absence the next morning, so it had to have been that Wednesday night. At the very latest, the early hours of Thursday morning.”

“…and you are sure it was a Wednesday?”

She thought for a moment before nodding.

“I’m sure of it. It rained all day the next day, finally making the ground soft enough for my dear Y/N to start her garden. She adores plants,” she told him with a smile.

Your heart sank to your stomach, and you resisted the urge to roll your eyes as you realized what was happening here. Leave it to your mother to prioritize finding you a husband while investigating your father’s disappearance. Mr. Holmes’ gaze met yours, and you held it until he was forced to look away. At least she thought highly enough of you to think you worthy of someone like Sherlock Holmes.

All three of you watched him pace around the living room, a soft hum leaving his lips here and there. Again, he returned to that plant that he’d been fingering, eyeing the carpet beneath the table before finally looking to your mother.

“I’d like to take a look at the rest of the house.”

With a wide smile, she was all too happy to oblige. Your sister bid him goodbye with a soft smile, and you did the same when his eyes met yours, face falling as soon as he turned his back to you.

“Do you think he will find father?”

You glanced up from your breakfast to gaze at your sister, her anxious eyes already on you. You swallowed, wiping your mouth before offering her a shrug.

“Who is to say…”

“He must! He’s the best detective there is. He’s only been here for two days, and already he seems far more diligent than the others,” she quietly argued.

“I cannot argue with that,” you admitted.

You were unnerved by the unfamiliar man. He was indeed great at his job, and his acceptance of your mother’s offer to stay in one of the many rooms here only gave him more time and free reign to gather clues as to where your father could have gone. He spent the first day with your mother, having her recount everything she could remember, anything that could help. The next day was your sister, so you knew it was only a matter of time before he demanded your time and attention as well.

You didn’t like the thought of being alone with the man. His piercing eyes were scarily perceptive, taking note of much more than you could possibly give him credit for. They were ever watchful, and that unnerved you to no end. True to your suspicions, he entered the dining room just as you were finishing up, heavy gaze finding yours, and you bid your sister adieu.

“Your mother said that you went to bed early Wednesday night,” was the first thing he said as soon as you sat down across from him in the dimly lit living room.

The dark curtains allowed for little sunlight to peak through, and shadows casted over his aristocratic features.

“I did.”

He hummed, a faint smile on his lips, so small you could miss it if you blinked.

“Tired?”

“Extremely. I don’t sleep very well,” you honestly told him. “…and so I figured the earlier I rested my head, the earlier my eyes would follow suit.”

He nodded at that, eyes trailing over the room.

“Does gardening help with that?”

“…sometimes,” you answered.

“Does your mother or sister help out with that? Or is it just you?”

“It’s just me.”

His eyes were on yours again, gaze inquiring, yet guarded. He was probing for something, and you knew it was his job, but it filled your mouth with distaste.

“…so you are the only one who attends to the plants in the house?”

“Yes.”

He stared at you for a moment before releasing a small sigh. He stood, and you did as well, eyeing him as he paused at your movement before slowly beginning to pace about the room.

“I am here to help…Ms. Y/L/N.”

His voice reeked of well-hidden frustration, and you sighed as well.

“I know that,” you responded, briefly closing your eyes. “…and I am cooperating, am I not?”

He paused, and his eyes met yours again, flickering between your irises before humming.

“Indeed, you are, but I want you to cooperate because you want to. Not because you feel like you have to. I am merely here to help, to find your father’s whereabouts, so I want you to feel comfortable around me.”

“I am,” you lied.

He knew that you were lying, if the look in his eyes was anything to go by, but he let it go.

“Your mother and sister said that you all searched the grounds for him all day. Enlisting the help of the police for the next week and a half before the search was eventually called off,” he suddenly said, moving on.

“Yes. No stone was left unturned. My mother felt it was best to leave this in the hands of detectives, but the lot of them were…incompetent at best.”

Disdain and disgust coated your words, and Mr. Holmes eyed you.

“…and at worst?”

You crossed your arms over your chest, pursing your lips.

“Greedy perverts trying to get their hands on our money,” you admitted.

You threw him a humorless smile, and the corner of his lips quirked up just the slightest as he turned away.

“None of them sparked your fancy?”

He was teasing, and you fought back a smile.

“No. I don’t daydream about marriage, Mr. Holmes. Of course, it is what my mother wishes for me, and I know that I am to settle down eventually for it is the way of the world, but I am certainly in no rush. Marriage does not appeal to me in the slightest.”

It was the one wedge in you and your mother’s relationship: your lack of prospects. However, no amount of snide comments from your mother about your age would sway you.

“Surely, your parents’ marriage must have softened your heart just a little…”

When you looked up, his eyes were once again on you, something in them that you could not name, and you held his gaze, a fond smile on your lips.

“Their marriage was like any other, I suppose. Of course, they had the occasional spat over the most trivial of things like all married couples do, but they were happy,” you replied.

He simply nodded, gaze lingering before pulling his eyes away, and if you didn’t know any better, you’d say reluctantly so. His casual interrogation that wasn’t really an interrogation didn’t last for much longer, and somehow, you felt more nervous leaving the room than you did when you entered it.

Your mother and sister did not seem to share your sentiments. Indeed, they were ever comfortable around the dark-haired man. Part of you wondered if the holes in their heart that were left by father were temporarily being filled by Mr. Holmes. Having a man around the house again surely brought some mild comfort to them, even if they knew it was only momentary.

They happily invited him to eat with you all, participate in small talk, even showing him your garden. You felt that it was all unnecessary, distracting even. Mr. Holmes had a job to do, and the sooner he left, the better. You didn’t know how much more of his analyzing gaze you could take.

It didn’t matter that he would be engaged in conversation with your sister or mother for his eyes always found their way back to you somehow. He wasn’t a man of many words, but it seemed that you were an exception. Your mother did not miss how he always attempted to draw you into conversation, get you to talk more. It was becoming rather tiresome to explain to her that the man was simply doing his job.

Hell, it was becoming tiresome to remind yourself of that. It was his job to pry, to observe, to snoop even. The day that you’d found him in your chambers, standing by your bed, gazing around with his hands folded behind his back, you’d almost suffered a heart attack. It took the will of God to remind you that he was a detective, and that he was simply doing his job.

Sherlock Holmes was doing what he was hired to do.

And that was the problem.

You could hear footsteps approaching from below, and you paused on your reading, sticking a finger in the page before closing your book. The branch that you’d chosen to lounge on was higher than the usual, and you craned your head ever so slightly to look down below.

Mr. Holmes decided to make himself at home beneath the tree, leaning back against the trunk. His suit jacket was gone, one knee bent, and you watched as the autumn breeze ruffled his soft curls. You blinked, wondering to yourself how he managed to look both intimidating and vulnerable at the same time?

“No one in town seems to have any legitimate idea of where your father could have gone.”

His voice traveled to you from below, and you chuckled before you could stop yourself.

“No, I would imagine not. Despite what they may think, none of the townspeople know my father, at all,” you told him.

You could feel his eyes on you as you descended, and you brushed your dress off when you finally made it to the ground. He looked up at you with such intrigue, brows furrowed in a mixture of confusion and concentration. You cleared your throat.

“You’re staring, Mr. Holmes.”

He slowly blinked at you.

“Indeed, I am,” he said, rising to join you. “I do apologize. I was having a rather strong sense of déjà vu.”

Now it was your turn to frown in confusion, and he continued.

“My sister…she loves to hide away in a tree with a good book just as well as you.”

He ran his eyes over your face, drinking you in, and the hair on your arms stood on end.

“…you remind me of her in some ways,” he murmured.

“Well, she sounds like a remarkable young woman then,” you complimented.

“She is getting there,” he replied, a hint of pride in his voice. “Although, just like her, so much of you remains a mystery to me.”

You squirmed under his scrutinizing gaze, looking away from his narrowed eyes to walk towards your garden. You could both feel and hear him behind you, and you felt your face grow hot as the weight of his stare pressed down on you.

“You have a rather impressive garden,” he praised.

You looked to him, a small smile slow to spread along your lips.

“Thank you.”

“Crown Imperials,” he noted, and your smile fell. “They seem to be a favorite of yours.”

“They are. The bright blooms are so pretty to me,” you truthfully replied.

“You spend a great deal of time out here,” he hummed.

You bent down to finger a petal, a genuine smile on your face now.

“I find comfort out here. Looking at this garden, basking in its presence, puts me at ease. Flowers that bloom in the colder months, when all the leaves have fallen and the animals have scurried away to hibernate, symbolize rebirth to me. New beginnings,” you whispered, eyes unfocused as you let your hand fall.

You slowly stood, stomach flipping when your eyes met his as you turned around. His hands were at his side, broad form much closer than you remembered, and your eyes zeroed in on the way he flexed his fingers. Mr. Holmes opened his mouth to speak, but you interrupted him.

“I should get back inside to assist my sister with her studies,” you told him.

You bid him goodbye and scurried past him before he could utter a word.

The next night, you made your way downstairs in the darkness as you did every night. Your mother and sister were fast asleep in their rooms, Mr. Holmes having long gone to bed as well. With a soft sigh, you approached the front door, locking it with a resounding click. You pressed your hand against the wood, heart aching for your mother, pitying her even, before you turned around.

“Why do you lock the door every night?”

A scream threatened to escape your throat, but you swallowed it down as light flooded the foyer. You pressed your hand to your chest, glaring at the detective as he stood across from you…dressed for bed. You blinked at the sight of his bare chest, and you quickly looked away, face heating up.

“Mr. Holmes,” you slowly began, forcing your heart to slow. “…you frightened me.”

“You did not answer my question,” was his only response, and you frowned at him.

“I beg your pardon?”

He took a step towards you, and you resisted the urge to take a step back.

“Mrs. Y/L/N leaves it unlocked every night in hopes that her husband, your father, will return. She told me so, and you come down every night to lock it. Why?”

You heaved a sigh, guilt flooding you.

“…because it is sad. I hope for his return just as much as my mother, but I will not be so foolish as to leave me and my family completely vulnerable while we sleep.”

He didn’t respond, so you continued.

“My father, her husband, is God knows where, and I understand that she is worried, but she is beginning to lose all sense of reason ever since his disappearance. Someone must keep this house together,” you complained.

He eventually nodded at that, seeming to accept this, and your eyes fell to the floor, uncomfortable with his close proximity and inappropriate state of dress. Your eyes caught the end of your nightgown, and you realized with a start that you both were inappropriately dressed for this conversation. Especially one so late at night. You shuddered to imagine what your mother would think if she came downstairs this very moment.

You looked up, startled, when he stepped closer, and your throat felt incredibly dry all of a sudden. Your sister’s words that first day came back to you, and you thought to yourself that Sherlock Holmes was much more handsome than she knew. You took a step back, back grazing the door as you eyed his face, him doing the same.

“You brew medicine for your mother, making salves as well,” he suddenly murmured, and you frowned. “I saw them in her room. The herbs used to make them I found in the kitchen.”

Your frown deepened, unsure of how this was relevant to anything.

“I did not know she was unwell,” he probed.

You cleared your throat, wrapping your arms around yourself.

“She isn’t…unwell, I mean. At least…not really. As she said, it rained that Thursday after my father’s disappearance. She was worried and distraught and did not take note of the slippery steps. She fell, and the salve and medicine are simply to help with the bruising and the pain,” you explained.

He only hummed at that, and you made to move around him, a bidding of goodnight on your lips, but he blocked your path. You looked to him with wide eyes, heart beginning to race again, although you didn’t know why.

Even in the thin and exposing nightgown, you felt your body heat up under his heavy gaze, his eyes running over your frame in a way that you were familiar with. However, the disgust that normally coursed through you at such an action was nowhere to be found. Instead, something unfamiliar swirled in the pit of your stomach, and this scared you.

It must have been written on your face, that fear, or at the very least visible in your eyes for Mr. Holmes took a step back. You noticed that his jaw was clenched, face pinched in a pensive manner that was becoming all too familiar to you. He suddenly wished you a goodnight, and you did the same, feeling his heated gaze searing into your back as you ascended the stairs.

Sleep did not come easy to you. In fact, it smoothly evaded you for days, and the already dark circles beneath your eyes became even more prominent. Your mother and sister were used to your inconsistent sleep schedule, accustomed to the haggard appearance your face would take sometimes. If Mr. Holmes noticed, however, he did not mention it. Of course, that was a silly thing to think. He noticed everything, and it was no surprise to you to find him in the lounge room late one night.

The flames licked at the inside of the fireplace, casting a low light over the room. His daunting form was seated in your father’s chair, and neither one of you greeted each other as you made your way into the room. Sometimes on particularly trying nights, you liked to curl up with a book by the fireplace in hopes that it would lull you to sleep. You had a sneaking suspicion that Mr. Holmes knew this, hence his presence, and you sighed.

You didn’t wish to be alone with him, and you had every intention of making your way back to bed, but some part of you scolded yourself for your treatment of the detective. He was only doing his job, after all. You knew that your wariness of him was no fault of his, and you guiltily made your way to your father’s bar.

“Would you like a drink before I head back to bed?” you asked him, already reaching for a glass.

He didn’t respond, and you glanced up to find his gaze still on the roaring flames, a hand resting against his mouth, eyes thoughtful. You reached for one of your father’s more expensive selections just as Mr. Holmes spoke.

“He’s beneath the garden…isn’t he?”

You did not falter in your movements, but you could not stop the way your stomach churned, threatening to expel everything you’d eaten that day. You set the bottle down, and your hand shook around it. Your lips parted, but no words came out, and you snapped them shut, swallowing.

“I beg your pardon?” you eventually responded.

“I took on this case to pass some time really. It seemed simple enough to me. Your father had been murdered…that much was clear,” he quietly said.

Your throat felt incredibly thick all of a sudden, and your heart clenched in your chest, painfully so.

“However, it was only a matter of who.”

You felt tears spring forth, but they held off, collecting in your eyes as he continued.

“Your mother seemed the obvious choice, too obvious even, and I was proven right when I met her. She loved your father dearly, and I’d be a fool to think she could ever bring harm to him. I considered your sister next. Naturally. She is impulsive and wild, but that is precisely why she was ruled out. She’s not, how would my brother say it, refined?”

You briefly closed your eyes in defeat.

“No. Not like you…”

He stood to face you, and the tears finally spilled over when his troubled gaze met yours in the low lighting.

“She has not mastered the skills to truly be a lady. She has not learned to hold her tongue or hide her thoughts or school her features so that they are the picture-perfect vision of decorum and poise…to show the world only what you wish for them to see.”

His smooth voice did not bring you comfort, and you fought to hold his gaze as he neared you.

“…but you have. You’ve mastered it quite well, in fact.”

You opened your mouth, but no words came out, only a shaky exhale.

“Many people in town mentioned your mother’s clumsiness. Her constant aches and faint bruises…bruises you’ve been tending to for a while…”

He stopped before you, eyes somber.

“He was hitting her. Probably much more than that. When did you first discover it?”

Again, words failed you, and he shook his head, a dark curl brushing his forehead.

“That tidbit is not relevant, so don’t bother to answer that.”

“Mr. Holmes-.”

“You referred to their marriage in the past tense. You lock the door at night because you know that he is never coming home.”

You wrapped your arms around yourself.

“Crown imperial is an interesting flower to plant, most people avoiding them because of the putrid smell. Of course, a flower like that would cover up the smell of decaying flesh rather nicely,” he mused. “I know it happened in the living room.”

Your eyes widened at that.

“That plant on the table…there’s hardly any soil in it at all, the only one in the entire house like it. That and the pinches of soil on the carpet beneath it tells me that it had been knocked over. It matches the few grains found in your sheets,” he explained.

You blinked at him.

“You were evidently in a hurry to clean it up and get back into bed. After all, it must have been rather early in the morning at that point… This was after you buried him correct?”

Reluctantly, you gave a shaky nod, confirming his accusations for the first time. He pressed his hand to his mouth again, the other on his hip as he paced, brows furrowed.

“The only thing I cannot seem to figure out is how you did it…”

“…belladonna,” you softly said, speaking for the first time that evening.

He looked at you, and you held his gaze, tears at bay for the moment.

“My father never misses a nightcap,” you told him with a shrug. “Large doses of belladonna can be-.”

“Fatal,” he finished for you, and you looked away.

“So…what happens now? Surely you mean to turn me in…hand me over to the police to answer for my crime,” you tearfully said.

He didn’t say anything, and the only noise in the room for a while was that of the crackling fireplace. Eventually, you heard him approach you again, and you flinched when his hands landed on your arms. Reluctantly, you looked at him, and his eyes flitted over your face, unsure of what to settle on. His thumbs brushed along your bare skin, and your throat bobbed.

“I should,” he whispered to himself, brows drawn together as he studied you. “I should turn you in immediately.”

He stepped closer, and you could feel his body heat, practically feel his heartbeat beneath his chest. His hands tightened on you for a brief moment before loosening his hold.

“…but I can’t,” he confessed through clenched teeth.

Confusion filled you, and your lips parted in shock. His eyes seemed to be drawn to the action, gaze lingering on your mouth for far too long.

“I…I don’t understand…”

He drank you in, gaze vexed, like you confounded him. One of his hands slid to your neck, fingers brushing your jaw, and you sharply inhaled, lips trembling.

“Even now…I still cannot figure you out,” he murmured to himself.

Your confusion grew, frown deepening, and you watched as he suddenly blinked, taking a step back. It took longer for him to finally let you go, and his face appeared strained, movements stiff as if it took everything in him to do so. He took a few more steps back, getting as far away from you as possible before he spoke again.

“There is no doubt in my mind that you very well could kill me in my sleep, but I trust that you won’t.”

Your eyes widened when he made to leave, and you called to him. He paused in the doorway, fists clenched at his side as he refused to look at you.

“W-what…what will you tell them? What will you tell my mother?”

Your voice was but a whisper, disbelief coursing through you at this turn of events. His shoulders heaved as he sighed.

“…nothing for you to worry about…Y/N.”

Your heart skipped a beat at the sound of your name falling from his lips, and before you could process what he had said, he was gone.

“He…he’s simply run off?”

You leaned your head against the wall as you listened in on the conversation taking place in the dining room, and your heart constricted as her soft sobs reached your ears. You couldn’t imagine the feeling of fretting over someone for weeks, fearful for their wellbeing only to discover that they weren’t hurt at all. The opposite, in fact.

Only, it was a lie.

As you listened to Mr. Holmes spin the believable tale of your father running off with some mistress, you thought to yourself that the truth would have been better. Your mother could move past the truth. She could heal from the truth. How was she meant to heal from this?

You quietly pushed yourself off of the wall and made your way past the doorway. As you passed, your eyes caught those of Mr. Holmes, his heavy stare boring into you, and guilt tore through you as you caught sight of your mother’s distraught form.

No, the truth would have been far better. Your mother, the loving and strong woman that she was, deserved to know the truth, and you intended to give it to her.

Hours later when darkness fell, you found yourself outside, yanking out flower and vegetable roots. Thunder rumbled far off in the distance, and a light sprinkle of rain dampened your hair and dress. Tears soaked your cheeks as you dug through the dirt, sobs wracking your frame. You had buried him deep, and now that had come back to haunt you.

Or so you thought.

A startled gasp left your lips as firm hands yanked you to your feet from behind, and your eyes were wide as you were spun around to face none other than Sherlock Holmes. Lightning flashed behind him, illuminating his angry features, and you shrank in on yourself underneath his harsh gaze.

“What the devil do you think you are doing?”

More tears fell, and you shook your head.

“I cannot do this! I cannot go along with this lie any longer,” you told him.

His eyes softened, but his jaw ticked at your words.

“Y/N,” he sighed your name.

“Thank you for what you’ve done, Mr. Holmes, but I cannot bear to see my mother hurting like this over a lie. The truth…the truth will be much easier for her heart to bear,” you gasped.

You fought to get out of his hold, but he proved to be as strong as he looked.

“I cannot allow you to do this-.”

“Why not? You’ve solved the case! The great Sherlock Holmes figured it out, and soon my name and face will be plastered on papers everywhere as everyone learns what I did,” you cried.

“You were protecting your mother,” he argued.

“In the eyes of the law, I am still a murderess. I have reason to believe that you would agree with them,” you scoffed. “…why are you protecting me?”

He didn’t respond, and you huffed, jerking in his hold again, but he wouldn’t budge. The rain was coming down a little harder now, and your vision was blurry from both the weather and your tears. Your knees started to buckle as your movements slowed, and you would have collapsed to the ground if Mr. Holmes hadn’t been holding you.

He leaned you against your tree, and your fingers twisted into his rain-soaked shirt as tears skipped down your cheeks. He still hadn’t answered your question, and your eyes reluctantly met his. He looked at you like he had been looking at you for weeks, and that unfamiliar feeling returned…as well as the fear.

“You are not nearly as fragile as I initially thought you to be,” he quietly said, puzzling you.

He continued before you could voice your confusion.

“…but you are not nearly as tough as I thought you to be either.”

He reached up to brush his thumb over your lip, and you jerked, eyes widening at the action. Your heart felt like it was threatening to leap from your chest, and a thought suddenly occurred to you that had never occurred to you before.

“You have plagued my thoughts for weeks,” he confessed, making you freeze. “…entering my dreams the very moment I first had my suspicions.”

“Mr. Holmes…”

“Who would think that someone like you would be capable of such a thing,” he mused, genuine bewilderment on his features. “…and yet…I still want you so.”

Dread began to fester in your gut, and you pushed against his chest, but it proved to be useless. He pressed his forehead against yours, eyes boring into your own.

“Sh-Sherlock,” you said, hoping that hearing his name from your lips would snap him out of it, knock some clarity into him, but it seemed to have the opposite effect.

His fingers tightened, enough to make you wince, and his eyes fluttered close, a long exhale leaving him.

“Y/N,” he whispered your name like it was a prayer. “How do you manage…to be half heaven…and half hell?”

The words had barely left his lips before he fiercely pressed them against yours, startling you. A horrified gasp left you, and he clutched you to him, breathing you in as he moved his mouth over yours. He only seemed to take note of his actions when your palm met his cheek.

You stumbled back, hands grasping along your tree as he took a step back. His lips were swollen, hair damp and eyes troubled as he blinked at you. You pressed one hand into the tree behind you, the other to your chest as you stared at him in fear. Your chest was heaving just as much as his.

“Forgive me,” he whispered.

He swallowed, at least having the gall to look ashamed. You stared at one another for a painfully long time, ruminating on what he’d done, the line that he’d crossed. You didn’t move, too afraid to, and Sherlock’s jaw clenched as he eyed you.

His hands curled into fists at his side, features twisted with a myriad of emotions that you couldn’t place. There seemed to be a struggle going on, and your lip trembled as he dragged his eyes over your wet frame, Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed. His dark hair was damp from the rain, the strands curling around his ears and kissing his forehead.

His lips parted ever so slightly, and he straightened as his eyes finally met yours again. You watched the way his nostrils flared, a carnal hunger in his eyes that terrified you to the bone.

“Forgive me,” he whispered again, apologizing for something that he hadn’t done, but was instead about to do.

You turned and ran past your tree, but he was already upon you before you could even get in three steps. His muscular arms wrapped around you, holding you to him as he buried his nose in the crook of your neck, lips trailing kisses over your damp skin.

You reached back to tangle your fingers in his hair, attempting to pull his head away from you, but he only groaned against your skin. Fresh tears escaped, and you shuddered as he pressed himself against you, hard and threatening against your dress.

Your back met your tree, and Sherlock was quick in pressing his lips to yours. Your fingers dug into his shoulders, noises of protest escaping your lips as you pushed against him. You were sobbing when he finally broke the kiss, and you shook your head, pleas falling from your lips.

“Don’t do this,” you begged, knowing you were no match for him and accepting that pleading was your only chance. “Please, don’t- you’ll ruin me.”

Your eyes searched his.

“I’ll never be able to find a husband, to give my mother some form of happiness again after what I did. Let me make her happy,” you shakily whispered.

His brows were furrowed as he gazed at you, and his hands felt incredibly hot on your waist. The light rain had passed now, leaving only a partly cloudy sky and a bright moon to shine down on you. Sherlock closed his eyes as he pressed his forehead to yours, thumbs tracing patterns into your waist.

“…I suppose I will be your husband then.”

He gently shushed you as you cried, softly pressing his lips to yours. He didn’t budge no matter how hard you pushed against him, and you shook as he hooked one of your legs onto his waist. One of his hands pressed into the back of your head while the other tore at the skirt of your dress, all the while he kept you pinned between him and the tree.

It suddenly occurred to you that this was your punishment. This was your comeuppance for what you’d done. It didn’t matter that your father hurt your mother on a regular basis, murder was wrong, and you were being punished for it.

You cried harder when you both felt and heard him releasing himself, and the cool air you felt against your core told you that Sherlock had ripped away every barrier between you two. His lips were gentle on yours, and his entry did not differ from that.

He was slow in pushing inside of you, and you hit against his shoulder, mouth parted in a silent scream as he stretched you. Your nails dug into him when he could go no further, and a long moan lowly left his lips, satisfaction dripping from every note. You blinked back tears as he pressed his hands into the bottom of your thighs, keeping them at his waist as he held you to him.

He slowly moved within you, and one hand held onto him to keep from falling while the other dug into the bark of the tree behind you. He kissed you again, and you turned your head away. He let out a soft growl of frustration before pulling away from the tree.

You yelped and shuddered when your back met the cold damp ground, but your yelp turned into a gasp when he firmly thrust into you. It was a feeling unlike any other you’d ever known, and you squeezed your eyes shut, one hand fisted into his shirt while the other did the same to the grass.

You felt full, but it was an uneasy feeling, like you shouldn’t be full. Every drag of his member pulled a whimper from you, and your face crumbled when he pressed kisses to it, trying to bring some comfort to you while he had his way with you.

“You feel exactly as I dreamed you would,” he whispered.

You sniffed beneath him, core protesting his assault, no matter how gentle it was. You pushed against him again, but he gripped your hand, bringing it to his mouth, and a shiver traveled down your spine as he brushed his lips over the inside of your wrist. He held your gaze as he held your wrist to his lips, and the intensity behind his eyes scared you.

“I meant what I said,” he murmured. “I have every intention of marrying you.”

Somehow, the fact that he was telling the truth scared you more than the thought of him abandoning you. He was going to take you away from your mother and sister, and then who would look out for them? A shaky sob escaped your lips, and he shushed you again, hips curving into yours over and over.

“No one will ever discover what you did. I’ll see to it,” he told you, kissing you again. “…and I’ll make sure your family is well cared for.”

His breath hitched, pace changing, and your toes curled on their own accord.

“Why?” you tearfully gasped as he nipped at your neck. “Why…?”

He paused his movements, holding himself inside of you as he looked down at you. You felt defeated, and the only thing left was confusion, bafflement at why you. He brushed his fingers over your tear-stained cheek, eventually ghosting them over your swollen lips. Sherlock looked at you like you were the most magnificent creature he’d ever seen, and your stomach turned.

“…so much of you is still a mystery to me, and even if I never figure you out…”

He brushed his soft lips against yours.

“…at least you are mine.”

  ~

tags:  @darkficreposter​​ @xoxabs88xox​​ @harryspet​​ @readermia​​ @opheliadawnwalker3​ @nickyl316h​​ @captainchrisstan​​ @sebabestianstan101​​ @villanellevi​​ @lokislastlove​​ @notyourtypicalrose​​ @coconutqueen21​​ @hurricanerin​ @trinittyy​ @hyoyeoniie​ @kellyn1604​ @sherrybaby14​ @jtargaryen18​

[djadins]

aurora glow | thrawn x f!reader — part two

warnings: if you squint there is fluff

rating: T

word count: 2.8k

Thrawn requested your company through the rest of the day in order to have you available for any questions he might have. You trailed behind him as he ordered his men around effortlessly. Some were scrounging in the woods around you, some were working on repairs. Others were guarding the perimeter that had been set up. The plan was to shut the backup power on the ship off at night when work had ceased and only to turn it on when work began again at daybreak.

You warned Thrawn that it got dangerously cold at night in the fall in this part of the country, especially now after the flare.

He did not seemed too concerned at this, as his men would return to their bunks at night unless they were on perimeter patrol. He mentioned that there was a place for you, too, to sleep on the ship and refused when you offered to sleep in the warehouse instead.

“Absolutely not. You may not be one of my men, but you are under my protection now and I will not have you sleeping out here alone.”

You wanted to mention that there in fact would be troops outside and that you may feel slightly more comfortable in semi-familiar territory (as you had been used to sleeping in whatever abandoned buildings or caves you could find) but you decided not to say anything. You had a feeling if you said what you were thinking, he would insist that you sleep in the ship anyways.

The sun was soon setting and your stomach groaned. You only had a breakfast of some foraged berries this morning and although you were used to eating light, it had been at least 12 hours since your last meal. Thrawn turned around to face you, chuckling slightly. The man he had been speaking to looked like you, but was not from Earth. He was in a greenish gray uniform, one of the men who had been working on repairs inside of the ship. “This is Ensign Eli Vanto, my translator and friend.” Thrawn gave Eli your name and he bowed slightly.

When Eli excused himself, you looked up curiously at Thrawn. “Translator?”

He hummed in response. “Yes, in the part of space I am from, we speak a language far removed from the common tongue. Although I was vaguely familiar with Galatic Basic, Eli was from a planet near to mine and we both could speak a different, common language. He then was assigned as my translator.”

You assumed Galatic Basic was like English, because you had been communicating with Thrawn this whole time without Eli.

“Once the ship is repaired and we are back on mission, I will do my best to tell you all about the galaxy. Eli will be able to fill in whatever I cannot.”

You murmured a thanks. “I would like to learn about your planet,” you said softly.

Thrawn seemed surprised at your statement. “I’d be happy to share it with you.”

You both walked in silence the rest of the way to where some men where preparing dinner. There were at least 10 fires going with large cauldron-like pots balanced on top of them. A thick, delicious smelling soup was inside, although you already knew that you would be unfamiliar with the ingredients. Thrawn had ordered all perishables to be used for dinner.

You were impressed by the efficiency of the men. They were clearly used to feeding a ship full of people, but still. Multiple tables had been moved outside of the ship to hold trays, plates, bowls, silverware as well as foods you did not recognize. What you assumed was fruits, vegetables and other side dishes.

Thrawn must have noticed how wide your eyes had become because he gently put a reassuring hand on your shoulder. You hadn’t realized how cold the end of the day was becoming until you felt the heat radiating from him. “Don’t worry if there is something you try and do not like. It took me a while to become familiar with my food preferences.”

You realized based on his last comment and this one that his part of space must really be separate from the Empire that he talked about. You had seen other men in his crew that did not look human-like, and more of what you had imagined aliens might look like, but there was nobody else so far of those you had seen that had looked like him.

At one point, he had gone through the same thing you were going through now.

Thrawn led the way, being the Captain allowed him the first meal. You being an honored guest meant you got to follow behind him. He passed you a tray with an empty bowl, plate and silverware on it. “If I may make a suggestion?”

You nodded in response. He hummed approvingly. “I’ll pick out your food based on my own personal preferences. If you see something you take interest in that I’ve missed, please add it to your tray.”

You nodded again and Thrawn’s lips curled upward. You followed close to him as he loaded both of your trays up with the same exact meal. You saw something that looked like raspberries that you added to you plate. At the end of the lineup, one of the workers filled both of your bowls with the chowder.

You followed Thrawn to a log not far away and were surprised when he sat on the ground, his back against the log. You both ate in silence next to each other, apart from the inquiries he had about the food’s taste. You were surprised at how much you liked everything on your tray, trying a bit of it all.

You became full rather quickly and knew that you should stop eating. This was entirely way more food than you had been used to in years.

“Everything alright?” he asked between bites.

“Very good, thank you. I’m just not.. not used to eating this much. I don’t want to get sick.”

Eli joined the both of you in that moment. He slid down on the other side of you against the log.

You listened as the men talked while eating about the state of the ships repairs so far. It sounded optimistic to you, but you knew that in reality you had absolutely no idea what most of it meant.

One of the soldiers started a fire in front of the three of you after the sun went down. Another man took your, Thrawn’s and Eli’s tray.

You looked across the encampment at your fellow Earthlings. They had been given a small tray filled with food to share amongst themselves, eating with hands bound in front of them.

Thrawn grabbed your attention when he noticed you observing them. “Do you have any suggestions on what we should do with them?”

You shook your head no. The laws of men no longer existed. “What would happen if they did this in the Empire?” you asked.

“They would be.. executed.”

You shivered, even with the heat of the fire and Thrawn’s body heat at your side. Though you weren’t touching each other, it was radiating off of him in a blaze against you.

“What would happen to them if your planet wasn’t in ruin?” came a voice from the other side of you.

Thrawn tsked at Eli’s carelessness even though he himself had admitted to you that your planet was dying just after meeting you. Thrawn noticed when you tensed up.

“They would probably be jailed,” you thought aloud.

The three of you looked over at your fellow humans. “We do have a brig, though I do not want them on the ship,” Thrawn admitted.

“We will watch them, for now. Depending on their behavior, we will let them go when the time comes for us to leave.”

You weren’t sure if he was saying that for you or Eli.

You watched the flames of the fire while Eli and Thrawn resumed talking about the plan for leaving. At one point you shivered and Thrawn immediately stretched his arm out behind you on the log. He was barely brushing against your back, but it was enough to warm you a little more.

Eventually Eli left to get some shut eye, leaving just you and Thrawn. You both sat in a comfortable silence, enjoying the night. If it weren’t for the bustling of his men around the various scattered fires or the patrols off in the distance, you might have fallen asleep out here next to him.

“Why don’t I show you to your room?”

You looked up at his eyes, shining and reflecting the fire. You nodded and he stood gracefully in one movement. He held his hand out towards you and easily picked you up on your feet when you gave him yours.

This time you walked just past what you remembered to be Thrawn’s office door. As the backup power was now off, he had to use one of those suction cup thingies to open your door. He waved you inside and you walked into the room in front of him.

The room was lovely and big. “Meant for any visiting dignitaries,” he explained, as if reading your mind. “I’m right next door if you need anything.”

Thrawn explained how to use the lantern and then left you to settle in. You unpacked what little you had in your bag — a few snacks (apples, nuts), a tattered, thin blanket, along with your rotating small pile of clothes. You had recently washed them all in a stream and folded them neatly to place into the dresser. You put your 9mm in between the stack.

Thrawn had noticed it earlier in the day and said that you wouldn’t need it while here, but if it made you feel safe, then you were welcome to keep it on your person.

You slipped out of your boots, putting the knife you carried inside under the fluffy pillow on the bed at the end of the room.

You pulled out your toothbrush and the plastic water bottle that you had filled yesterday and poured a little water on it. You swished the brush around your mouth for about two minutes and then put it on the sink top. You flicked your tongue over your teeth to make sure they felt smooth.

You refrained from looking at yourself in the mirror of the bathroom, instead opting to change into the clothing you usually slept in — a light pair of joggers and a baggy t-shirt.

You settled into the bed — it was surprisingly comfortable. Even with your blanket on top of you, however, the bedding provided little warmth. Now that you weren’t moving, you were starting to get very cold. You quickly slipped out of bed to put two pairs of socks on your bare feet.

It didn’t seem to help you much. Just as you couldn’t take it anymore and were about to put on every piece of clothing you owned, there was a soft knock at the door. Thrawn called out your name. “May I come in?”

You told him to come in and slipped out of bed to meet him at the door. Your teeth were nearly chattering but you closed your jaw tightly.

“I wanted to make sure you were getting settled.. are you alright?!?” Thrawn’s tone went from calmed to what you imagined was worried soon after he walked inside. You hadn’t seen this much emotion on his face since you had met this morning. He walked up to you and you resisted the urge to bury your face into the heat you knew his body would be giving off. “Your temperature has dropped drastically since I left.”

You couldn’t stop your teeth from chattering when you talked. “I.. its.. c.. c.. cold.. in h.. here.” An uncontrollable shiver ripped through your body.

Thrawn immediately enveloped you in his arms. Your tense body loosened in the warmth of his grip. He had changed out of his uniform and was wearing a tight black shirt and black pants similar to yours. You could see that his body was rather defined now that he wasn’t hidden under all that armor.

“This won’t do,” he said under his breath. You shivered again, but no longer because you were cold. You let out a small yelp when he picked you up bridal style. With one hand, he closed the door to your room and opened the door to his, the other supporting your weight.

After closing his door behind him, he carried you through his quarters. Past his desk in the door you had seen earlier, was a short hallway. Connected was a training room, bathroom and bedroom that you could see in your quick pass through.

He sat in his bed against the headboard, with you still in his arms. He positioned you in his lap and then brought his blankets up and around the both of you.

“Apologies, I did not realize. You warned me it would be cold for you tonight and I didn’t know the extent of it.”

You shook your head. “I mean it as a warning for everyone, but.. thank you.”

“I hope this doesn’t bother you, but it was my.. instinctual response.”

You didn’t want to admit how nice it felt to be touched by another person again after so long so instead you told him that it was okay with you.

He had one arm wrapped around you, supporting your back and reached onto his bedside table for a small looking tablet. When you peered at the screen, there was a bunch of letters arranged in words you did not recognize.

“I usually update my daily log at the end of the night. If it aggravates you, please let me know.”

You were surprised at the events that had transpired in the last few minutes. Not that he had been rude to you at all today, quite the opposite, but his attitude and demeanor were entirely different than they had been all day. Although you had seen a little bit more of his softer side when you had been alone with him, he had remained fairly impassive all day. He was commanding when talking to his men (well, except for Eli).

Now here he was, hoping not to disturb you after carrying you into his quarters. Keeping you warm, in his lap, in his bed. It was unexpected to say the least.

“I don’t mind,” you told him.

He began softly speaking in another language and as he did so, writing filled his tablet. You were mesmerized by it even if you had absolutely no idea what he was saying. He would pause every once in a while, or erase a few lines and change something.

His voice startled you out of your stupor. “Feel free to ask me anything, if you have questions.”

You hummed. “What are your people called?”

“Chiss. I’m from a planet called Rentor, in the Unknown Regions.”

You nodded at his pad. “And is this your native tongue?”

“Yes, its called Cheunh.”

You settled against his a little more. “It’s very pretty.”

He turned to face you a little more. “Really? Most other species I’ve encountered think it is harsh to the ears.”

You shook your head. “I don’t think so.”

He paused for a moment. “Are you warm enough?”

You nodded against his chest. After a few moments of silence, he continued his entry. When you heard your name, you looked up at him.

“Just recording everything that happened today,” he explained.

You listened to him for a bit longer, watched the letters appear on the screen, before the drowsiness pulled your eyes closed.

“Thrawn?”

“Mmm?”

You paused as you thought how to phrase your question. “Are you the only one of your kind in the Empire? Chiss, I mean.”

“..Yes.”

You understood it a little better now. You were both alone in your own ways and he recognized that piece of himself in you.

You were curious as to what he was saying every time you heard your name brought up, but were too tired to ask. You weren’t sure if that would be pushing it either, however you had a feeling that he was willing to answer most of your questions.

Your breathing was starting to slow down, you mouth slightly agape. You hadn’t opened your eyes since you initially shut them. You heard a light clank as Thrawn reached over and set his tablet back down on the table beside his bed. He shifted you off his lap and over to the side of the bed that you both weren’t currently occupying. You were hardly aware of what was happening, as sleep overcame you.