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star-girl69 · 10 months ago

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The Last Time

Clarisse La Rue x Fem!Demigod!Reader

—-

Part One - The Last Time

Part Two - Cowboy Like Me

Part Three - Tomorrow Never Came (coming soon!)

Part Four - Living Legend (coming soon!)

Part Five - Pretty When You Cry (coming soon!)

—-

synopsis: the last night you spend with clarisse before she goes on a quest

a/n: had to put my own take on the clarisse leaving reader behind to go on a quest SORRY Y’ALLLLL this is like devastating fr tho i’m kinda sorry like 😭

The Last Time - Taylor Swift (Feat. Gary Lightbody of Snow Patrol)

warnings: angst, like so much angst i’m gonna say it 5 times, angst angst angst angst angst, angst, hurt comfort and also hurt NO comfort bc i’m evil, kissing, cutesy until it’s not but it never really is, i felt like choosing pain, y’all should start calling me she-devil this is just so mean and evil, swearing, fighting, allusions to death, daddy issues lol, tell me if i missed anything!!

—-

June 4, 12:08 PM

It’s a cold summer night. You sneak out of your bed, sheets slipping off of your shaking body, the same memories playing in your mind. It always comes down to this, the nights.

In the dreams, she doesn’t come back to you, and the nights without her are so cold, so lonely, so horrible you can stand it. They’re only in your mind, but they hurt just as bad. It’s not every night you slip into each others beds, but whenever you have a nightmare, you find your way to hers. Whenever she has a nightmare, she finds her way to yours.

You both have nightmares about the same things.

The usual cryptic prophesies, the various monsters you just can’t seem to kill, and losing each other. Demigods die. They die easily. You both know that.

Some people swear off love.

And Clarisse told you she wishes she could, she wishes she could pretend you aren’t her entire heart, but she never had a choice. You are her Achilles heel, her one weakness.

You couldn’t either. You took one look at the beautiful daughter of Ares and never looked back again.

Still, there’s a certain desperation in every demigod relationship. Touches are just a bit tighter, hugs a bit longer. Because you all have lost so much, and you all feel absence heavily. Every time could be the last time.

Your footsteps creek against the porch of the Ares cabin. You open the door only a crack, slipping in silently the way you always do, avoiding the creaky floorboards.

Clarisse is awake in her bed, the corner of the cabin. She’s staring at the moon fiddling with her fingers. You frown, but Clarisse turns to you.

You’re sure you look as wrecked as you feel.

“Oh, baby,” she murmurs. “C’mere, what happened?”

You always ask each other, but you both know.

You crawl towards her, sitting in between her legs, arms around her neck, head pressed to her chest. She holds you up so you don’t have to. You can’t, not right now.

She kisses your forehead and her hand smooths down your hair.

“You went on a quest,” you whisper. You miss the way she stiffens. “You didn’t come back.”

She doesn’t tell you she’s not going on a quest. She doesn’t tell you she’s going to come back.

“I’m here,” she says. “Do you feel my heart? I’m here, and I feel yours. It’s beating so fast, baby, you have to take a deep breath.”

Tears well in your eyes. You dig your nails into her soldiers.

“Oh, Gods, please don’t leave me,” you cry.

She doesn’t tell you she won’t.

“I’m here, I’m here right now. I’m here right now, listen to my heart, baby, listen to my heart.”

Clarisse swallows back the bile in her throat. She tries not to lie to you, she tries. But sometimes, on cold summer nights when you find your way into her bed, and she doubts you’ll remember this in the morning-

“I’ll always be here, Y/N. I’ll always be here.”

—-

June 11, 5:46 PM

If you thought the nights without Clarisse were bad, then the days are even worse. You miss her. You never realized how much she was there, silently, always watching, not until you told her to stay away from you.

You sit at the dinner table, the sun setting. Most of your siblings have left- but you’re here with May, sitting there as she watches you like a hawk and interrogates you.

“You haven’t been the same. Not since, like, last week. And something happened with Clarisse, it’s obvious. I gave you a few days because I thought you were just having a fight, but you’re not.” She sighs and grabs your hands. “What happened?”

“You’ll find out soon enough,” you dismiss. She stares at you with such heartbreak in her eyes.

May is the sibling you’re by far the closest with- you like similar things, and people sometimes think you’re actual full-blooded siblings because you look so alike. She was the first person you ever met at Camp Half Blood, and after Clarisse, she’s the first person you run too. But now that Clarisse is leaving, and she’s already gone, May is all you have left.

You squeeze her hands. Your best friend, you want to tell her, but saying the words aloud makes them real.

She’ll find out tomorrow.

—-

June 8, 10:57 AM

She tells you privately, she smiles softly and leads you into the woods, she holds your hands and touches your face and kisses you like she’s not about to break your heart.

“Why are you bringing me out here?”

You know her like your own mind. You spend so much time with Clarisse, next to her, it’s like you have a window to her heart tattooed on your arm. You know, even when she doesn’t want you to.

“I just have something to tell you. And I wanted privacy.”

She doesn’t tell you it’s not a bad thing.

Your stomach sinks and you hold her hand tighter, and even though she’s about to break your heart she kisses your cheek and squeezes your hand.

“Just you and me, pretty girl. I just wanna talk, okay?”

She leads you to a clearing with a beautiful view of the strawberry fields and you smile, sitting down and letting your face feel the sun. You can feel her looking at you, but the beauty of this place and each other only blinds the two of you temporarily.

“Okay, what do you have to tell me?”

There’s stones in your stomach. Your heart is squeezing, you can physically feel the tension and anticipation in your organs.

You look in her eyes and you pray to every God that it’s nothing.

“I love you, you know that?”

Clarisse never says I love you, and your stomach twists more.

“Of course I know.”

She lays down on her back and opens her arms. She sighs when you lay your arm over her stomach, head on your chest. Her hands grip onto you tight.

She doesn’t speak for another minute, like she’s just soaking you and the sunshine up, like it’s the last she’s ever gonna get.

“Chiron… a week ago, I think, he called me to the Big House.” You hum, staring at the treetops. “Him and Mr. D… they… uh.”

“You can tell me,” you pretend you aren’t scared.

“A quest,” she blurts. “They have a quest for me.”

“Oh,” you mumble, stupidly.

A quest could mean a million different things. It could be an errand for Chiron and Mr. D, or it could be something preordained by the Fates.

She could have a choice or she could not.

“It’s three children of Ares. It’s about some sort of ancient blood feud between my father and- it doesn’t matter. But it- it doesn’t look good-”

You sit up. She follows you, eyes wide, hands splaying around where your body used to be on hers.

“‘It doesn’t look good’? Clarisse, what the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

She grabs your hands. “It’s dangerous, like any quest-”

“It’s not like any quest though, is it?”

She presses her lips together. “No. No, it’s not.”

“You didn’t accept it, did you?”

She stares into your eyes.

She looks so pretty today, her hair half-up half-down. Her eyes always shine so brightly in the sun- they reflect it. Sunny days with her make your heart squeeze, because it always looks like she’s got suns for eyes.

“I’m sorry, Y/N, I am-”

You tear your hands away from her.

“Why- why would you- Oh, my Gods, Clarisse, why would you do this?”

You cry, and she reaches for you, her face twisting into something painful. But how can she expect you to run to her when she’s the one hurting you?

“Just- just not right now. Not until the 13th, let’s just have this together, okay?”

“How, Clar, how?”

She grabs your hands and doesn’t let you pull away.

“My father asked for me, he asked for me. I have to go. I can’t refuse my father, Y/N-”

You rip your hands away. “He doesn’t care about you, Clarisse. But I do. I care about you.”

She rubs her temples with one hand, the other still reaching for you, eyes screwed shut.

“Please don’t be like this. Don’t be selfish, I have to this. He asked for me, Y/N. This is such a huge step-”

“A huge step to him loving you? He’ll never love you. Our parents will never love us, because they’re incapable of caring about us. But you have me, Clarisse. You have me, and I love you so much-”

“You don’t know that,” she whispers. “You don’t know they can’t love us.”

“And neither do you.”

She reaches out to touch the tears falling down your face.

“Clarisse, please,” you cry. “I’m here. I’m always here, and just- just don’t put your father over me, please don’t, not anymore-”

She grabs your face. “I’m not going to choose between you and him.”

You’re full on sobbing now, and Clarisse never cries, but just the look on her face at seeing you cry makes you cry more.

“But I’m here, Clar, I’m here, I’ve always been here, please-”

She shushes you and tries to hug you, but you can’t, not when your mind is spinning to fast, not when you want nothing more than to be in her arms because you know if she just holds you then you’ll shut up and forget. But you can’t, you can’t, not this time.

Not when all the pieces are sinking together.

The only time you see her is when you sneak into each others beds, dates in the woods, secret looks across the courtyard, pulling each other into the bathrooms or sheds or something to make out.

You needed her so bad you didn’t realize that you were never first. You didn’t care, but at least she was still there.

“Did you even think about me when you said yes?”

She tries to hug you again. You stand on shaky legs.

“Y/N,” she whispers, half-broken, half-disbelief. “Don’t do this.”

“I just need a day,” you say, but you both know what this means.

She laughs, runs her hand through her hair.

“I can’t believe you’re doing this. Fuck, I know it’s not perfect, we’ve never been perfect, but I need you right now. Don’t walk away. Don’t be like that.”

“And if I asked you not to walk away? If I asked you not to be like that?”

“I’m not being like anything!” she yells. “You’re the one who’s being a selfish brat.”

You cross your arms and look at her. You want the ground to swallow you whole. You want to jump into her arms and never leave.

“Don’t, okay. Just don’t. Stay, and we’ll talk, I’ll try, you know I’m not good at this but I want to try, we have to try for us.”

“Clarisse, there’s no us anymore. You’re leaving.”

“Not until the 13th, Y/N. We could have something so good if we just… pretend.”

You could play pretend with her for hours. You could be married and you could live in a place where no monsters can touch you, where there’s no one to hide from. Where there’s no memory of her father, no axe hanging over you.

“I don’t want to pretend. I want you.”

But it’s Clarisse. It’s the girl you love, and you’re young so you believe you can fix this.

“Don’t go,” you say, crossing your arms over your chest.

You’re both glaring at each other, stupid teenage girls who fell in love too hard too fast, and now you’re scrambling at the world changes around you. You love her so much, but you finally realized that she doesn’t care about you, you’re her secret, and you haven’t had a backbone for so long but you will have one now.

“He asked for me. I already accepted. I need you right now, so stop being selfish and accept it.”

“How am I being selfish? How am I being selfish for not asking you to kill yourself? For asking you to put me first, for once?! You never put me first. I see that now. You never-”

She scoffs. “We both know that’s not true.”

“But I don’t, Clar. I don’t know that’s not true. So tell me, show me, make me believe it’s not true-”

She crosses the distance between you, even though it feels like a thousand miles, and plants her hands on your face. She kisses you, she kisses you like she loves you but not enough to stay.

But you kiss her back. You kiss her back, because she’s the love of your life. You’ll always come back like a kicked dog, like a ball on a chain. You’ll always come back to her like you go back to your bed each night- mindlessly, wordlessly, because it’s routine. Because you sleep in your bed and you need sleep to live, you need her to live.

She pulls back, breathing heavily against your lips.

“You are the only person who matters to me.”

Your grab her wrists and take her hands off your face. She tries to resist you, keep touching you, but it’s halfhearted because she’ll always end up doing the little things that you want.

“Only because the Gods aren’t people.”

“Y/N, stop.”

“Why do you go back to him? Why? Again and again, you go back even though he feels nothing for you- and you know it-”

She steps back, takes your hands off of her wrists.

“I-I’m sorry,” you breathe, you see the hurt on her face. “I didn’t mean it, I didn’t, it’s just, I love you-”

She blinks and stares at you like you just broke her favorite toy.

“I-I should go.”

You want her to say something, you want her to protest, you want her to kiss you again.

“Maybe you should,” she agrees. “Before we both say more things we’ll regret.”

Her face twists back into what she lets everyone else see, that hard mask of indifference, of cruelty and ruthlessness.

How can she hold you so tenderly and look at you like this? How can you pretend you’re still the girl she loves when the fog clears and you realize what you said?

“Yeah.”

You turn and leave the clearing, you can’t look at her hurt face anymore, tears streaming down your face. Clarisse stays there. You swear you hear the sound of muffled crying.

—-

June 12, 3:46 PM

Chiron announces the quest. It’s dangerous, that’s what he says, and he didn’t want to cause commotion in the camp by letting it come to light.

Are you horrible for wishing you had found out now? You would have had this untainted time with Clarisse. You would have loved her. You wouldn’t have had to pretend, because it would be real.

She’s selfish at every turn. She only tells you when it’s convenient for her to tell you, when she knows it’ll ruin it, ruin you, and lose this time together.

Her and her siblings stand next to Chiron.

She stares at you the entire time, and you don’t look at her once.

May hugs you when she hears, and you don’t speak, because how can you speak when everything is wrong? Everything is broken?

The mirror is broken, and what you thought you saw is no longer there. You only see your shattered self.

—-

June 13, 12:38 PM

You lasted maybe 20 minutes. You went to bed early, slept fitfully for a few hours, and woke up gasping about another nightmare- the same one you had the last time you slipped into Clarisse’s bed. You barely remember the nights you have nightmares, but you always know you go to her bed and she holds you, tells you it’s alright.

The dream, anxiously waiting for her to come back, spending your nights alone but warmed by anticipation and hope- and she just doesn’t. She doesn’t, and it all becomes dark and dull in the dreams and they turn into nightmares.

You cry and you scream and you curse the Gods for not bringing her back to you, but no one can hear you. You’re laying in your bed screaming and your siblings are gone, you know Clarisse is, and you feel so alone.

Feeling so alone it makes your bones shaking is terrifying. And you should be used to it. But you got used to Clarisse and her warm body. You got used to her touches, her words, the way she made you feel even just being in her bed- you could always sleep in her bed because she was there.

After she leaves, would anyone notice if you snuck into her bed? Would anyone notice if you laid your head on her pillow and pretended it was her chest? Would anyone notice if you slept in the shirts she left behind?

You last 20 minutes staring at the ceiling before you’re up.

You don’t care if Chiron will catch you. You don’t care if the entire camp will see you, you never did, but a private relationship was nice. It was yours and hers and no one else’s.

Private is different from secret.

Your feet sink into the soft grass, wrapping your arms around yourself, legs freezing in a cold breeze. You stop, looking at the Ares cabin.

The Ares cabin is just a house full of the best fighters at camp. Everyone looks at it and feels a little safer. You look at it and feel safer.

You’re filled with dread but you don’t care, because you know she’ll let you in, you know she’ll let you into her arms.

The door to the Ares cabin whips open.

Clarisse is there, feet turned left, toward you and your cabin behind you.

She stops and stares.

“Sorry,” you breathe. “It’s your last night, and I…”

“I know,” she says.

You step forward, all you want is to forget, all you want is one more peaceful night. As soon as you step up onto the porch Clarisse grabs you and pulls you in tight for a hug.

Her hands are spread wide across your shoulder blades, her body is pressed to yours, her head hooks over your neck.

“You’re so cold,” she whispers, because that’s all you can say when you don’t want to talk about the things that really matter. Of course she’s warm. She’s like your own personal heater, always warm and always comforting.

She lets go after a moment, hesitantly, but winds your fingers into hers. She leads you to your bed, you avoid the freaky floorboards better than her-

“I never have to be quiet in here,” she whispers. “It’s funny.”

You hum, she urges you onto her bed and climbs in behind you. You face the wall, breathing in heavily, shivering as she wraps herself around you. You didn’t realize how cold you were until she was holding you.

You didn’t realize how damaging this relationship was until you were so wrecked by it.

You didn’t realize how much you loved her until she was leaving.

You can feel her wanting to say something.

“Shut up,” you mumble, holding her hand.

She laughs.

“Okay, whatever you want.”

You remember this might be the last time you’ll ever hear her laugh.

This might be the last time she ever holds you.

“Don’t cry, please,” she begs, kissing the back of your head. “If I can’t talk you can’t cry, I hate when you cry.”

“I can’t,” you breathe, shoving your face into her pillow.

“Hey, hey,” she murmurs, flipping you around so you’re facing each other. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.”

You don’t think she’s ever apologized this much in her life.

“It hurts me too,” she continues, you press your face into her neck and feel yourself exhale against her warm skin. “If it didn’t have to be like this…”

“It doesn’t,” you mumble. “It doesn’t have to be like this, so don’t let it, Clarisse.”

“I’m leaving tomorrow,” she whispers, her voice cracking just a bit. So quiet only you can hear it because you’re pressed up right against her.

You want to just climb into her, make a home for yourself in between her ribs where you could always feel her heartbeat and always know she’s there.

“Can’t I just come with you?” you cry.

She grabs you a little tighter, like she’s annoyed just by the thought of you being in danger. “No, Y/N. No, you’re going to stay here at camp, and you’ll be safe. I made my siblings promise to look after you, you’ll be okay without me-”

Her siblings are the only ones who know, but that’s only because every once in a while Clarisse won’t let you leave and you’ll oversleep and they’ll see you in her bed.

She swears them all to secrecy and as their cabin leader and their sister, a fellow child of Ares who’s doomed to want someone they can’t have, doomed to hide in the shadows- there’s so many campers who sneak into the Ares cabin at night, and you all ignore it.

There is a certain desperation with demigods and love. Every time could be the last time.

You wish you could swear off love, you wish you could, but Clarisse has you so wrecked you can’t breathe without thinking about her. You run on her, like she’s coffee or sunshine, she’s the IV stuck into your arm, and you don’t want to imagine living without her.

You think of a future without her and it’s just blank.

She holds you tighter and let’s you cry, louder and louder, muffled into her neck. She says she’s sorry but she doesn’t mean it, she can’t, and you don’t care. You can’t care, not right now, not when this is the last time.

“But I’m here right now, okay? I’m here right now, so just listen to my heart.” You grab onto her, trying to keep her here with you- but she won’t. She’ll go. She’ll leave you, and there’s nothing you can do.

You realize with such a startling finality that this is the last time. How deeply you feel it in your heart, not a pain but just an ache, an emptiness- it’s almost beautiful how it washes over you like a wave, like your heart stops and you’re just left a shell.

You breathe in wildly, but you can’t catch your breath, not when she’s half-here, you’re stuck in this hazy reality. Fading in and out. Her heartbeat. Her breath. Her touch. Her voice.

“I’m here right now,” she says. “I’m here right now,” and it’s the last time.

—-

taglist:

@lvrue @t-wylia @laughingcheese037 @kroumi @urdeadpoet @colezb @rey26 @harmzilla @elliewilliamsbae @amberfreemansburntface @kyuupidwrites @neverwaakeme-up @shark1008 @liballer @heyimadison @nvirskies @pnsteblnme @mar2ss @restellsss

—-

DID WE HAVE FUN OR DID WE HAVE FUN?!?!??!??

#clarisse la rue #clarisse la rue x reader #clarisse la rue x y/n #clarisse la rue x you #pjo tv show #pjo x reader

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trendywaifus · 2 months ago

Note

Hello 👋🏾 hope you’re having a good day/night whenever you’re reading this. I was hoping I could get Jane Doe with these prompts

“Does it make you nervous when I stare?”

“Why not tonight? I’m even wearing something pretty.”

“Shh, just look at me, baby”

If you can’t use them all that’s cool! Or if we’re only allowed one could you do the 2nd one? Also maybe with Grace too? But specifically the first one if it’s not too much trouble. If you’re only doing one character for these types of requests then please just with Jane.

I have serious brainrot and unfortunately my horny side one over with asks. Hopefully someone responds fluff with her too cause I also just want to be soft with her I would but I don’t want to take away one of the slots. Anyways hope you’re doing well and drink water!

hey hey hey! i’ll do this all with jane. my fault, i should of specified! you can do multiple prompts (also make sure to specify which prompt section you got these from so i won’t mess up your req)for one character! however, to avoid making things a lil long, one character is enough if you’re requesting for prompts! next time zzz requests are reopened, one of the buds who are planning on requesting or you can request tooth rotting fluff for our girl jane ;) stay hydrated too.

cw: fem! reader with g!p, creampie, vaginal penetration, cursing, missionary, petnames

you were sleeping soundly, your boneless body buried beneath warm sheets and fluffy covers until the bedroom door opens. a pair of featherlight footsteps enter the room. light sounds of clothing rustling about and a soft, familiar sigh makes you stir a bit. there’s a slight pause before a fond chuckle leaves your unannounced lover’s lips. she walks into the bathroom, flicks on the light, and closes the door behind her. your eyes finally peel open from the sound of running facet water and yawned.

you fumble for your phone amongst the sheets and checked the time. hissing at the sudden brightness of your screen, you instinctively blink a few times before your eyes adjust. “ 11:50pm. .” you mutter, setting the phone down and sighed. usually she’d be home by one or two in the morning, it seems like her workload was easy on her today. after a good ten minutes of being in the bathroom, probably to remove her makeup, and other things, the door opens. the bathroom light taints the dark walls of the room and the soft scent of apple perfume wafts against your nose.

“ welcome back, jane. “ you smile at her sleepily.

“ oh? did i wake you when i came in? i thought you were sleeping. “ jane asks tenderly, clad in a fitted collar shirt and pencil skirt. the first few buttons were undid, tastefully revealing a glimpse of her. .black lace bra?

“ yeah, you did but i was waiting for you anyways and fell asleep. um, jane—what you’re wearing, is that apart of a disguise? orr? “ you prop yourself up on an elbow, brows curled in confusion. the rat thiren hums, bending over to remove the black stockings from her legs. “ not this time, i had a dinner meeting with my captain. “ she explains, letting out a sigh of content once the tightness hugging her legs was gone. you hum sleepily, still thinking about the lace bra.

“ that explains it but i’m mainly talking about the lace bra. i don’t think that’s very business attire-like. “

jane titters, and her piercing teal hues glimmer with mischief as she looks at you, gaze visibly lowering. you feel butterflies jittering in your belly. “ you’re right sweet girl, but i wore it for you. “

“ i-i’m sorry? for me? “ you repeated back shyly. she hums in confirmation, making her way over to the bed and bends forward to closely enjoy the flustered look appearing more and more on your face. her hands dip further into the mattress as she stares you down. you’re starting to feel tiny under her hungry gaze. “ that’s right. i was a little disappointed that you were asleep when i came in, but now that you’re awake. . “

the way jane’s gaze is fixated on you is making your body run hot and the blood rush downwards. her head tilts, black, fang-like bangs following with her as she senses the nervousness building up within you. she smiles with teasing amusement,

“ does it make you nervous when i stare, beautiful? “

“ i-i. . am going to bed! it’s w-way too late for your teasing! at least do this tomorrow when i’m not half-asleep! “ you stammer, throwing the cover over your head as she laughs. “ aw, why not tonight? i’m even wearing something pretty. “ she leans downwards, making sure her lips are near your covered head as she whispers seductively. “ i promise i won’t tease, i want you after all. “ her sultry voice sends pleasant shivers down your body and straight to your hardened member. your heart is pounding but you slowly release the covers off your head. “ okay, fine. i-i can’t sleep now because of you anyways. “

she chuckles, standing upright to unbutton her collar shirt and sheds it off her shoulders. you can’t help but stare at her toned stomach and pretty chest being supported by the inky lace bra. your lover winks at you, undoing her pencil skirt and it drops to her ankles effortlessly. she steps out of them and into the bed with an alluring smile. “ you’ll be on top tonight, unless you want me to ride you stupid like always. “

you sputter before muttering small complaints under your breath about her vulgar comment. she lays down and you slide over her. where should you even start? she looks so breathtakingly ethereal that your mouth is starting to water. you cup a handful of her breast, dipping down to kiss at the side of her neck. the rat thiren’s pristine skin feels hot against your eager lips as you kiss at it. “ and don’t be afraid to be a little rough, i’ll take whatever you give me, baby.” she assures, sensually running a hand down the curve of your back.

your breath hitches. you tug the cups of her bra upwards, causing the soft, fat flesh to spill out deliciously. you knead her breast with sinful digits. you leave behind a trail of wet kisses down her collarbone until you’ve reached the perky bud. you wrap your lips around it and suckle, inducing a pleased moan from jane. you run your tongue around the nipple, flicking, tugging at it between your teeth.

pff, pop!

you switch your attention to the other unattended breast and repeat your ministrations until both of her tits are glistening with your spit. her tail pleasantly brush against your ankle, twisting around your leg like a curled snake. “ just like a baby, “ jane giggles, taking note of the sheeny coat of drool on your lips from giving her tits lavish attention. her fingers run down your stomach and plays with the waistband of your pajama bottoms. she gives it a playful tug.

“ it’s about time you take these off, hm? “ she whispers lowly, lust mixed in with her voice. with one hand, you hastily tug your bottoms down enough for your aching cock to spring out. you adjust yourself so your body is leveled with hers. you graze the bulbous head against her clothed clit in a circular rotation. jane takes in a sharp breath, hips slightly lifted off the mattress. you stroke yourself against her sticky, lace panties, moaning shamelessly from the fabric brushing up against your sensitive cock. “ you’re my desperate little girl, aren’t you? “ she whispers, her hands finding themselves around your biceps and squeezed them.

“ ‘sorry, i-i can’t help myself, “ you apologize, sliding the band of her panties to the side, revealing her dripping pussy. “ you look too good in that. “ lining yourself up with her entrance, you sink between her slick, gummy walls. “ i know. “ she locks her legs around your waist, pulling you in all the way to the hilt.

your cock twitches as jane’s pussy clamp around you, urging you to fuck it silly. “ hngh, don’t squeeze me like that, i-i might cum too early. “ you moaned, slowly moving your rickety hips backwards until only the swollen tip is inside. you slowly move forward to fill her back up. it take a few moments for you to adjust before you speed up the pace. “ there you go, pretty girl. “ jane purrs, before rolling her plump bottom lip between her teeth from the ripples of pleasure swarming through her body.

“ so goodd. . “ you slur, releasing another moan from your throat. the bed creaks from the consistent movement of your broad thrusts. she has you wrapped around her finger, caging you in with her strong legs while also whispering to you sweet nothings through labored breaths. your cockhead deliciously smack against the spongy part of her walls in repetitive strokes. jane’s parted lips opens wider and a guttural moan drags from her throat. her thighs press harder into your hips.

“ there, there—h-harder, mmph! “ and you go harder, sweat rolling down your brow as you push your unsteady hips harder into her. her syrupy slick gushes out and stick to you like rice and water. your shaft continuously fuck her slimy walls, producing series of squelching noises that has you a whimpering mess. a thick fog covers your mind in pleasure, forcibly stripping you from rational thought as you lose yourself in her.

“ jane, jane, jane, janeee. .!“ you utter her name repeatedly like a desperate prayer, hugging her tight like she’d disappear out of thin air. the aforementioned woman herself isn’t holding on much longer either, her hazy mind only balanced by a single thread. your sloppy hips piston into her messy pussy without a single regard to the sticky, slippery mess growing between her thick thighs. “ hah. .m-my pretty girl is making me go dumb just like her, h-huh? “ she breathed heavily, rolling her head back into the fluffy cushion, exposing her neck.

you dive right in and ran your slimy tongue along the stretched skin. “ gonna c-cum soon, “ you announced, planting kiss after kiss on her glistening flesh. she lets out a moan following up with an airy laugh. “ hehe—mmm, t-tell me something that i don’t know, baby? “

“ l-last name, nngnh, i-i want you to have my last name. . “ you groaned, dragging your lips up the underside of her chin. a strangled moan escapes her lips, red nails dragging up your back as your cock fully hits her g-spot. how her sopping hole utterly tightens around you has you moaning out in unadulterated pleasure. you roll your hips into her one last time before spurting velvety ropes into her gushy walls. the rat thiren’s legs keeps you in while she greedily takes your thick load inside of her. “ shiiiitttt, e-ease your legs, jane—i-i don’t want so much to— “

“ shh, “ she tips her head back down, looking at you with those bewitching, siren eyes of hers. “ just look at me, baby. don’t worry about that, give it to me.“ her quivering breath mixes with yours as you shape and paint her walls in your color. you’re hugging her so tight, she swears she’ll squeak if you squeeze just once. there’s a calming effect dipping you under while you stare into pools of cool teal. “ i love you.” you murmur. a flicker of light brightens her softening eyes and her rodent ears wiggle.

jane gives you a smirk that’s soft around the edges as she pulls you in by a hand resting comfortably on the back of your neck. “ . . .sharing your last name doesn’t sound bad at all. “ and she kisses you deeply, pulling you once more into a lovely daze.

#jane doe x reader zzz #zzz women x reader #zzz x reader #zzz smut #zenless zone zero x reader

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snowysosturn · 2 months ago

Text

Speeding Car - Matt Sturniolo Part 18

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20 Part 21 Part 22 Part 23 Part 24 Part 25 Part 26 Part 27 Part 28 Part 29

Pairing : y/n x Matt Sturniolo

Summary : After six years with your boyfriend Alex, you start to mentally check out. At a UCLA party, Alex reconnects with his childhood friend Emily, who proposes a double date with her boyfriend Matt. Your attraction to Matt grows as he pays you the first real attention you've had in years, sparking a complicated emotional journey.

Warnings : (This is actually now the longest chapter so far, 6.3k words, a lot does happen but good jesus just wait for the next few, will try my best to keep word counts down but cant guarentee!) MDNI, angst, fluff, tension, guilt, cheating (do not), betrayal, suggestive

Matt’s POV

As the night passed by, we both started to drift off, the warmth of her body curled up against mine calming me into a deep, peaceful sleep. It was the kind of sleep that comes after a long day, after a whirlwind of emotions, content but heavy, like my body was finally letting go of all the tension I’d been holding onto.

At some point, I woke up. The room was still and dark, the only sound being the gentle rhythm of Y/n's breathing beside me. I blinked a few times, trying to shake off the grogginess. I wondered what time it was so I reached for my jacket for my phone. Only to realise I hadn’t brought it in with me, I left it in the car. I felt a slight pang of anxiety. Nick and Chris were probably wondering where the hell I was, and I hadn’t even thought to check in.

Carefully, I reached over Y/n, my fingers brushing against her phone on the nightstand. I tapped the screen, squinting at the sudden burst of light. 2:42 AM. It was later than I thought. But what really caught my eye was the mountain of notifications on her screen, texts from Alex, trying to reach her.

A tightness settled in my chest as I stared at the notifications. I didn’t read them, but I could imagine the contents. I didn’t want to think about Alex or Emily right now, but reality was creeping back in, reminding me of the complications we’d have to face.

I sighed quietly, not wanting to wake Y/n, but knowing I needed to figure out what to do next. I carefully started to slide out of bed, trying not to disturb her, but she shifted slightly as I moved, her eyelids fluttering open.

“Matt?” she mumbled, her voice thick with sleep.

“Shh, it’s okay” I whispered, leaning down to press a soft kiss to her forehead. “Go back to sleep.”

But she was already awake, her eyes focusing on me in the dim light. “Where are you going?” she asked, her voice tinged with concern.

“I just realized I left my phone in the car” I explained softly. “I’m going to grab it, and then I’ll be back.”

She nodded sleepily, her hand reaching out to touch my arm as if to anchor me there for just a moment longer. “Don’t take too long” she whispered, her eyes already starting to close again.

“I won’t” I promised, leaning down to kiss her once more, this time on her lips, a lingering, gentle kiss that I hoped would reassure her.

I slowly pulled away, slipping out of bed and quietly making my way to the door. I paused for a moment, glancing back at her, her figure outlined softly by the glow of the street lights outside. Even in the dim light, she looked peaceful, beautiful.

With a deep breath, I opened the door and stepped out into the hallway, closing it gently behind me. I opened the front door and made my way down to the car. But as I walked, the weight of what had just happened began to press down on me. We’d crossed a line, one that couldn’t be uncrossed, and I wasn’t sure what came next. All I knew was that, for the first time in a long time, I felt like I was exactly where I was supposed to be..

The car sat parked out front, dimly lit by the street lights, and I could see my phone lying on the passenger seat through the window. As I reached the car, I unlocked it and opened the door, grabbing my phone and immediately tapping on the screen.

The screen lit up, and the notifications began to flood in. First from Emily, then Nick, and finally Chris. My stomach tightened as I saw Emily’s name at the top of the list. I hadn’t wanted to deal with this yet, but it seemed I didn’t have a choice.

Emily had sent a string of messages:

“Matt, where are you?”

“Why aren’t you answering me?”

“Who are you with?”

“Are you with Y/n? Tell me the truth.”

“Matt, answer me. Don’t ignore me like this.”

My jaw clenched as I scrolled through her texts. Her tone was sharp, accusatory. Then there were the missed calls - several from her, and one from Nick.

I swiped over to Nick’s messages next, hoping for something less stressful:

“Bitch, where’d you go?”

“Can you let me know you’re good? We haven’t heard from you.”

“Chris is getting worried, Nate is literally consoling him because he thinks you’re dead. Let us know you’re okay.”

Chris’s messages were much the same, filled with concern rather than annoyance. They weren’t used to me disappearing like this, especially without a word. They were probably wondering if something had happened.

I leaned back against the car seat, staring at the screen as if it might offer some sort of solution. Emily was spiraling, Nick and Chris were worried, and I was caught in the middle of it all, not wanting to explain where I’d been or what I’d been doing.

Taking a deep breath, I decided to start with Nick and Chris. I shot off a quick text to both of them:

“Hey, sorry for disappearing. I’m fine don’t worry, I’ll explain tomorrow.”

That should hold them off for now.

Then I turned back to Emily’s messages, hesitating for a moment before typing out a response. I wasn’t in the mood to argue or get into anything with her, not after the night I’d just had. But I knew if I didn’t answer, it would only get worse.

“Emily, I’m fine. I’ll call you in the morning.” I typed out, but before I could send it, another message from her popped up.

“If you’re with Y/n, I swear to God, Matt. Don’t you dare lie to me.”

My frustration spiked as I read her words. I’d had enough for one night. I deleted the message I was going to send and locked the phone, shoving it into my pocket.

Leaning back against the car, I took a moment to gather my thoughts. The cool breeze helped clear my head a bit, but it didn’t ease the frustration building up inside me. I needed to figure out how to handle this, how to deal with Emily and everything that had happened tonight. But for now, I just wanted to get back to Y/n.

As I walked back up the steps to Y/n’s apartment, the weight of everything that had happened started to settle in. I knew I couldn’t just stay the night, not without raising more questions - questions I wasn’t ready to answer. Nick and Chris were already worried, and disappearing like this wasn’t something I typically did. If I stayed, it would only complicate things further, especially when I had a girlfriend.

Reaching the door, I hesitated for a moment before letting myself in. The apartment was quiet, the only sound was the faint buzz of the city outside. I made my way back to Y/n’s room, the warmth of the space immediately comforting after the cold outside.

Y/n was lying in bed, her eyes half closed as she looked up at me. The sight of her, wrapped up in the sheets, made me want to crawl back in beside her and forget about everything else. But I knew I couldn’t. Not tonight.

“Hey” I said softly, trying to keep my voice even. “I need to go.”

Her eyes opened wider, a mix of confusion and concern flashing across her face. “Why? What’s wrong?”

“Nick and Chris are getting worried” I explained, sitting on the edge of the bed. “It’s not like me to just disappear like that, and I can’t exactly say I’m staying with you… It would be a bit suspicious.”

She nodded slowly, her expression understanding but tinged with disappointment. “Yeah, I get it.”

I reached out, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “I’ll see you tomorrow, though.”

She gave me a small smile, but I could see the conflict in her eyes. “Okay.”

Leaning down, I pressed a kiss to her forehead, lingering for a moment longer than necessary. I wanted to stay. I wanted to be here with her, but I knew the reality of the situation wouldn’t allow it.

“I’ll text you when I get home” I promised as I stood up, trying to reassure both her and myself.

She nodded again, her eyes following me as I moved toward the door. I paused for a second, taking in the sight of her one last time before forcing myself to turn away.

“Goodnight, Y/n.”

“Goodnight, Matt.”

I left the apartment, the door closing softly behind me, and the sense of finality hit me like a ton of bricks. But for now, I had to focus on getting home and figuring out how to navigate the tangled mess of emotions and responsibilities that awaited me there.

When I finally pulled into the garage, I could see the lights still on in the house. I hoped, for once, that Nick and Chris had called it a night. The last thing I needed was to explain where I’d been and make things even more complicated. But, of course, things never seemed to go that smoothly.

I opened the door from the garage into the hallway, trying to sneak past Chris’ room without a sound. As soon as the door clicked shut behind me, I heard the floor creak and Chris’ voice came from his room, full of concern, while Nate was passed out on his bed.

“Matt, holy fuck, where have you been? You worried me.” Chris said, stepping into the hallway, his eyes wide with worry.

Before I could fully process a response, I heard Nick’s footsteps coming down the stairs from the kitchen. Great. Just what I needed - a late night interrogation from both of them.

“I’m fine, man” I started, trying to sound as casual as possible. “I was with Y/n. She needed to vent about Alex, so we went for a walk.”

Chris seemed to relax a bit, but I could see the curiosity still flickering in his eyes. Nick, on the other hand, looked less convinced as he joined us at the bottom of the stairs, crossing his arms.

“Oh, I’m surprised she didn’t text me to talk..” Nick said, his voice full of suspicion.

I forced a shrug, trying to play it off like it was no big deal. Lie again. “Yeah, I guess she just thought it would be easier, you know? Since I’m with Emily.. and she’s with Alex.. and they’re away together right now..”

I could see the cogs turning in Nick's head. “That’s fair.” He said with a nod.

Chris seemed to accept it straight away, nodding slowly. “Okay, but next time, just shoot us a text or something. You know, so we don’t think you’ve gone missing or whatever.”

I nodded, grateful that he was letting it go. “Yeah, I will. Sorry about that.”

Nick still looked a little suspicious, but he didn’t press any further. Instead, he just gave me a nod and turned to head back upstairs. “Alright. Just don’t disappear like that again.”

“Got it” I said, trying to sound as sincere as possible.

As they both headed back to their rooms, I let out a breath I hadn’t realized I was holding. That was too close. I had to be more careful going forward. This double life I was starting to live was already beginning to catch up with me, and I couldn’t afford any more slip ups. Not when everything was hanging by a thread.

Y/n’s POV

After Matt left, I sat there for a moment, the room suddenly feeling much emptier without him in it. I reached for my phone, not really expecting much, but when the screen lit up, a flood of notifications greeted me. All from Alex.

I hesitated for a moment before opening my messages, curiosity getting the better of me despite the dread I felt in the pit of my stomach. As soon as I saw Alex's name, the reality of everything came rushing back.

There were several texts, all sent in quick succession. The first few were relatively tame, almost normal.

Alex: "Hey, you okay? Haven’t heard from you in a bit."

"Miss you, babe. Did you hear anything from the board yet? I’m stressin’ out over here."

But then they started to take a different tone.

Alex: "Why aren't you responding?" "Y/n, what's going on?" "Did I do something wrong? Just talk to me."

His last message, sent just minutes ago, made my stomach turn.

Alex: "Are you seriously ignoring me? I’m starting to lose it over here. I haven’t done anything wrong. Please just answer me."

I stared at the screen, my heart heavy with guilt. I should have responded, but what could I even say? The truth was, I couldn’t bring myself to care as much as I used to. Not after everything that had happened between us - or rather, everything that hadn’t happened but should have.

My thoughts were still on Matt, the way he made me feel something I hadn’t felt in a long time. Something real, something more than the hollow connection I’d been clinging to with Alex.

But seeing these messages.. it brought everything crashing back down. The reality of my relationship with Alex, the fact that he was still out there, believing we were okay. That he was still my boyfriend.

But after what Jess had told me, and after what I know now, how could I continue on with him? It wasn’t just about me anymore. It was about everything he had done - things I could no longer ignore, things that made it impossible for me to keep pretending.

Still, I couldn't help but wonder if Matt might be regretting everything. Maybe he didn’t want to get involved in this mess. Maybe he was already pulling away.

What if Matt was regretting everything? What if that’s the real reason he left? The thought clawed at me, making my chest tighten with uncertainty. He had to go home to his brothers, sure, but what if he was using that as an excuse?

What if he doesn’t really like me like that?

I replayed the night over and over in my mind, analyzing every little thing he’d said, every touch, every glance. It all felt so real in the moment, so intense. But now, alone in the silence of my apartment, it was easy to start questioning everything.

“My girl.”

The memory of him calling me that during our time together stuck in my mind, refusing to let go. He wouldn’t say that if he didn’t mean it, right? He wouldn’t have looked at me the way he did, wouldn’t have touched me with such tenderness, if it didn’t mean something to him.. right?

But then again, people say a lot of things in the heat of the moment. Maybe it was just that - a moment. Maybe, now that he’s had time to think about it, he’s regretting it. Regretting me.

I shook my head, trying to push the thoughts away, but they clung to me stubbornly. I didn’t know what to think, didn’t know what to feel. Everything was so confusing, so tangled up in emotions that I didn’t know how to sort through.

What I did know was that I couldn’t stop thinking about him. About the way he made me feel, about the way I wanted more. And that scared me. Because wanting more from Matt meant stepping into territory that was messy and complicated. Territory that could end up hurting both of us.

But as much as I tried to reason with myself, the truth was, I didn’t want to let go of the memory of him. Of the way he made me feel like I was the only person in the world that mattered. The way he looked at me, touched me, spoke to me.

I didn’t want to lose that. Not yet.

So, I clung to the hope that maybe, just maybe, he felt the same way. That “my girl” wasn’t just something he said in the moment, but something he meant. Something he wanted. Something that wasn’t going to disappear with the morning light.

As I lay in bed, still tangled in my thoughts, my phone buzzed again. A message from Matt.

Matt: "Hey, just wanted to let you know I got home safe. Talk to you tomorrow?"

A wave of relief washed over me. The simple message brought me back from the edge of my spiraling thoughts. If Matt had regretted anything, surely he wouldn't have bothered to check in. The knot in my stomach loosened just a bit, and I let out a breath I didn’t realize I’d been holding.

I placed my phone on the nightstand, trying to let the comfort of Matt’s words put me back to sleep. But just as I was about to close my eyes, another notification lit up my screen. This time, it was from Nick.

Nick 💜: "Hey, just checking in. Matt mentioned you needed to vent about Alex. You okay? Want to meet up for brunch tomorrow?"

I stared at the message, feeling a mix of emotions. Matt had covered for us, but Nick was still concerned. It made sense, he was always looking out for me. Part of me felt guilty for dragging Matt into this, for making things more complicated. But another part of me was grateful. Grateful for the friends I had, even if things were getting messier by the day.

I quickly typed out a response.

Me: "Thanks for checking in, Nick. I’m okay. Brunch sounds good."

I hit send and then put my phone down again, hoping that this time, sleep would come a little easier. But even as I closed my eyes, my mind was still racing, trying to make sense of everything that had happened tonight. Everything that was yet to come.

The next morning, I got up after a good lie in, feeling all of the emotions still from last night. After a quick shower, I dressed casually and headed out to meet Nick, Matt, and Chris for brunch. I decided to make my own way there, as where we were meeting was right in the middle for both of us.I knew they had to go out of their way to drop Nate off at the airport. He decided he was going to meet some friends in Hawaii for a few days and would come back and stay with the triplets after.

As I walked into the small cafe we’d picked, I spotted them at a corner table. Matt saw me first and gave me a small, reassuring smile that I tried to return. Nick was busy reading through the menu, and Chris was sipping on his can of Pepsi. I slid into the seat beside Matt, catching Nick’s attention.

“Hey, you made it” Nick said with a warm grin. “How’re you feeling?”

I nodded, trying to keep things light. “Uh, better, yeah.. Thanks for checking in last night.”

Chris glanced between the two of us, raising an eyebrow. “So, what’s the story with Alex? You okay?”

Matt’s hand briefly brushed against my knee under the table, a subtle, comforting gesture that did more for me than any words could have.

I took a deep breath. “Honestly, it’s been complicated. Alex and I.. we’re not in a good place, and I think last night everything just got brought to the surface.”

Nick nodded, looking genuinely concerned. “I’m sorry, Y/n. You deserve better than to be dealing with all that.”

I appreciated their support, but they didn’t know the whole truth. I knew it was time to address Alex’s messages. I’d avoided them long enough, and the longer I waited, the more it felt like a weight hanging over me. I excused myself from the table, asking Matt to order me the blueberry pancakes if a waitress came around.

I walked to the bathroom and into a stall. I pulled out my phone, the screen lighting up with a new string of messages from Alex. I stared at them, feeling a strange mix of anger and pity. I knew I had to reply, to say something that would put this to rest. But I also knew that I couldn’t give him the comfort he was looking for, not when I’d already made up my mind about us.

With a deep breath, I began to type.

Me:"Alex, I got the email from the board. You’re suspended for another six weeks, and they’ve stripped your captaincy. I’m sorry, but I think we need to talk when you get back. There are some things we need to figure out."

It was blunt, but I couldn’t bring myself to sugarcoat it. The truth was, our relationship was already over, I was just waiting for him to realize it too.

But I couldn't bring myself to hit send. I deleted the whole paragraph I’d typed out. I knew it was something I had to say in person. I knew the conversation wouldn’t be easy, but it was necessary. Instead I typed something small, enough to keep him at bay for the minute.

Me:

“Sorry Alex, trying to adjust back to normal times at work. Been sleeping a lot, it’ll probably be hard to keep in contact with the time difference. Hope you and Emily are having a good time.”

I alluded to the fact I knew about them, but he’s not smart enough to pick that up. I locked my phone and left the bathroom stall, washing my hands before returning to the table.

Nick’s voice pulled me out of my thoughts. “You okay?”

I looked up at him, then over at Matt, who was watching me with those deep, thoughtful eyes. “Yeah” I said finally. “I think I’m starting to be.”

Our food was ordered, and the conversation moved on to lighter topics - funny memories from past hangouts, Matt and Chris' latest obsession with some new video game called Chained Together, and Nick’s plans for the rest of the week.

Despite the unresolved tension in my life, being there with them, made me feel grounded. And for the first time in a long while, I felt like I was on the verge of something better, something that was entirely my own.

And that’s how the next six days went - almost every spare waking minute was spent together, either hanging out at my place or at Matt’s, with Nick and Chris always nearby. It was nice getting to spend time with everyone, the four of us laughing, joking, and enjoying each other’s company. The comfortable camaraderie made it easy to forget about the complications lurking in the background.

But as much as I loved being around them, I couldn’t help but wish for more alone time with Matt. It felt like every moment we spent together in the group was shadowed by the tension that simmered just below the surface, a constant reminder of the connection we were both trying so hard to keep under wraps, trying our best to not advertise our secret.

But the secret flirting between us grew bolder, the brief touches and lingering glances becoming harder to ignore. We’d catch each other’s eye across the room, and it was like everything else faded away. A shared look would send my heart racing, my thoughts spiraling into places they shouldn’t go - at least not while I was still technically with Alex, and Matt was still with Emily.

But the more time we spent together, the harder it became to mask our feelings. The jokes between us had a sharper edge, the teasing carrying a weight that neither of us acknowledged but both of us felt. Every accidental brush of our hands, every moment when our eyes locked a little too long, built up the tension until it was almost unbearable.

It was a strange, exhilarating mix of excitement and frustration. On one hand, I craved the thrill of these secret moments with Matt, the way they made me feel alive in a way I hadn’t felt in a long time. But on the other, it was exhausting, trying to navigate this complicated web of emotions without letting anyone else see what was really going on.

By the end of each day, I was left feeling restless, my mind racing with thoughts of what could be if things were different - if we didn’t have to hide, if we could just be honest about how we felt. But for now, we had to play the part, keeping our feelings under wraps while the tension between us continued to grow, day by day.

It was less than 48 hours before Alex and Emily came home and the time loomed over me like a ticking clock, counting down to the inevitable confrontation. The anxiety of what was to come spun at the back of my mind, but I tried to push it aside. There was still a day and a half more to enjoy before everything had to change.

I had half an hour left of my shift, Jess had been by my side the whole time as we packed the shelves. I filled her in on everything that had happened - well, almost everything. I left out the kiss and the intimacy between Matt and I, not ready to divulge those parts just yet. Even so, she was shocked when she found out I knew Matt as well as I did.

"You and Matt?" she asked, her eyebrows shooting up in surprise. "I had no idea you two were that close. That's.. Wow."

“Well I'm friends with his brothers too, let's not forget that.” I said, almost cutting her off.

I could see the excitement bubbling up in her, the way she was practically glowing with the idea of me and Matt together. But I had to play it down, remind her of the reality of the situation. "Jess, we're technically both still in relationships" I said, trying to sound more resigned than I actually felt. "And Matt.. he's still oblivious to everything that happened between Alex and Emily."

Jess gave me a sympathetic look but then smirked, nudging me with her elbow. "He doesn’t know?! Bitch you need to tell him so you two can get a move on."

I sighed, a small smile tugging at the corners of my mouth. I don’t know why I hadn’t told Matt yet. The whole situation freaked me out, and I could never seem to find the right time to tell him.

When my shift finally ended, I stepped outside to see Matt waiting for me in his car. Hangouts the last week were a given, so I expected to see him as soon as I walked outside the Target doors. The sight of him instantly lifted my mood, pushing the lingering worries to the back of my mind. I slipped into the passenger seat, and as we drove off, Matt mentioned everyone’s plans for the evening.

“I’m warning you in advance that Nick and Chris are heading to our friend Tara’s party tonight” Matt said casually. “I’ve decided I’m not going, but they’re probably going to try and persuade you to go too.”

A small thrill of excitement ran through me. "So, it'll just be us?"

Matt nodded, glancing over at me with a slight grin. "Just us."

The rest of the drive was filled with comfortable conversation and shared laughter, the tension between us still there, but softened by the ease of each other’s company. As much as I tried to keep my feelings in check, I couldn’t help but look forward to the time we’d have alone.

When we arrived at Matt’s place, Nick and Chris were already getting ready to leave for the party. “Heyyyyy bitchessss!” Nick called out, waving us over. “We were just about to head out to Tara’s party. You’re coming, right?”

Matt shook his head, already anticipating the direction this conversation was going. “Nah, I’m definitely going to pass. You guys go have fun.”

Chris wasn’t having it, though. “Come on, Matt! You’re always turning down these things. It’ll be fun. Plus, Tara’s been asking about you.”

Matt rolled his eyes, clearly unimpressed. “Yeah, I’m sure she has. But seriously, I’m good. I just want to chill tonight.”

Nick joined in, trying a different tactic. “What about you, Y/n? You’re up for a party, right? You could help us convince Matt.”

I glanced at Matt, who was watching me with an amused expression. I shook my head, siding with him. “I’m with Matt on this one. I’m actually quite tired after work.”

Nick sighed dramatically. “You two are such party poopers.” He pointed a finger at Matt, smirking. “But don’t think this is over, Matt. You’re coming to the next one, no excuses.”

“Yeah, yeah” Matt said, waving him off. “I’ll think about it.”

With that, Nick and Chris finally relented, grabbing their things and heading out the door to their Uber. “Have fun doing whatever boring stuff you two are planning.” Chris called out as they left.

The door closed behind them, and just like that, the house was quiet again. I looked over at Matt, who was leaning against the counter with a satisfied grin.

“Well, that was easier than I thought” he said with a chuckle.

I smiled back, while sitting myself down on the couch, feeling a sense of relief that we had the place to ourselves. “Yeah, I’m glad they didn’t push too hard.”

Matt pushed off the counter, walking over to where I was sat. “So, what do you want to do now that it’s just us?”

The way he said it sent a shiver down my spine, and I had to remind myself to breathe. “Honestly, just hanging out sounds perfect.”

Matt nodded, his eyes never leaving mine. “Yeah, it does.”

Matt sat down on the couch, and it was like a magnet pulling us together. Our lips met in a heated kiss, and I could feel every worry and thought slipping away as we got lost in each other. His hands moved over my body, each touch sending shivers down my spine. He pushed me further down the couch as I felt his lips trailing down my neck, warm and insistent, lifting my shirt to continue the path of kisses lower, making my breath hitch.

But just as I was getting lost in the moment, a nagging voice in the back of my mind grew louder. Jess’s words from earlier were echoing in my head, reminding me of the truth I’d been holding back. It felt wrong to be here with Matt, to be sneaking around with him while this massive secret hung over us. I couldn’t keep it from him any longer.

“Matt” I said, my voice breaking as I pulled away slightly. I could see the confusion and concern in his eyes as he looked at me.

“Are you okay?” he asked, his tone soft, but there was an edge of worry in his voice.

I took a deep breath, trying to steady myself, but the words came tumbling out in a rush. “I found out Alex cheated on me” I said, my heart pounding so hard it felt like it might burst out of my chest. “That’s what the fight was about… Alex and Emily.”

The change in Matt’s expression was instant. His face went pale, and the warmth in his eyes was replaced with shock and disbelief. “Emily?” he whispered, almost as if he couldn’t believe it. “Emily cheated on me.. with Alex?”

I nodded, my throat tight with emotion. Tears welled up in my eyes, and I couldn’t hold them back. The guilt, the pain, the betrayal - it all came crashing down on me at once. “I’m so sorry, Matt,” I choked out, the tears now streaming down my face. “I didn’t want to keep this from you. I just didn’t know how to tell you.”

Matt stared at me, his mind racing as he tried to piece it all together. “How long have you known?” he asked, his voice strained.

I wiped at my tears, though they kept coming. “Since the day you took me skating” I admitted. “One of my friends, a co-worker told me.. she was there when it happened..the night of the fight, she didn’t know if she should tell me. But I had to know the truth, even if it hurt.”

Matt ran a hand through his hair, looking down at the floor as if trying to process what I had just told him. “I can’t believe this” he muttered, more to himself than to me. “I mean we’re no better but atleast now it makes sense.”

“I’m sorry, Matt” I said again, my voice trembling. “Once I knew what happened I knew things were done with me and Alex.. but then even the condom box in my top drawer.. I was there when Alex bought them.. we hadn’t used them because, well, our sex life had died over a year ago.”

Matt’s eyes snapped back to mine, confusion and dread clouding his gaze. “Wait.. but the box was open?” he asked, his voice laced with uncertainty.

We locked eyes, both of us knowing where this conversation was leading but unwilling to face it head on. The implications of what we were realizing were almost too much to bear.

“Yeah..” I whispered, nodding slowly. “And a couple were missing, I checked when you left.”

Matt’s jaw clenched, the muscles in his face tightening as the full weight of the situation settled in. I felt a fresh wave of tears threatening to spill over. “I’m sorry, I should’ve told you sooner, the whole guilt side of this thing between us would’ve been eliminated if I had just told you.” I repeated, feeling utterly helpless.

Matt’s expression softened slightly as he reached up to wipe away the tears on my cheeks. His touch was gentle, despite the storm of emotions raging inside him. “I wish you had told me sooner” he said, his voice heavy with emotion. “But I get why you didn’t. It’s a lot to process.”

“I didn’t want to hurt you” I said, my voice breaking. “But I didn’t want to keep lying to you either.”

Matt’s expression softened, and he reached out to gently cup my face in his hands. "I appreciate you telling me" he said, his voice filled with sincerity. "It couldn’t have been easy, but I’m glad you did. We can’t change what’s happened, but we can decide what happens next."

I nodded, swallowing hard.

Matt was silent for a moment, his eyes distant as he thought. Then he looked back at me, his gaze intense, processing everything I’d just told him. "So does Alex know that you know he cheated?" he asked carefully, as if trying to tread lightly on a subject that was already fraught with tension.

I shook my head. "No, I’m waiting until he’s back to confront him. I also got an email from the Bruins Board of Management.. A six-week suspension and his captaincy stripped for good. But he doesn’t know either of these things yet."

Matt looked genuinely surprised. "Six weeks? And they took away his captaincy? On top of losing you in all of this? Damn.. That’s going to hit him hard."

"Yeah.." I agreed. "But honestly, after everything, I’m not feeling too sympathetic."

Matt nodded, understanding. "Emily’s definitely clueless about the whole situation too. She’s been so up my ass lately, constantly checking where I am. It makes sense now - she was projecting, worried I’d find out because she was doing it herself."

I hesitated for a moment, then decided to tell him what Jess had mentioned. "Jess overheard a conversation in the girls’ bathroom that night too.. She said something along the lines of Emily was bragging to her friends, saying she only likes you for the attention and for your money, but she also likes Alex and she somehow thinks she can have you both at the same time, she just needs me out of the way first."

Matt’s face darkened, a mixture of anger and disgust flashing in his eyes. "So that’s why she’s been so weird about you being around. It wasn’t just jealousy - it was guilt." He ran a hand through his hair, clearly frustrated. "You know she demanded that I didn’t hang out with you alone anymore. That’s why I went MIA for a month after the fight.. I’m so sorry Y/n for being so stupid.”

I felt a burn in my chest, knowing that Emily had tried to control him like that. "No Matt, don't apologise.. I had no idea she was doing that to you."

He shook his head, his expression softening as he looked at me. "I should’ve seen it sooner, but I was too caught up in trying to keep things smooth with her. I didn’t want to believe she was capable of this."

"And I should’ve confronted Alex sooner" I added, feeling the weight of my own choices. "But I was scared. I didn’t want to face the reality of what was happening."

Matt reached out, taking my hand in his. "We’re both dealing with a lot of shit, but at least we’re in this together now. We don’t have to go through it alone, and if anything this makes things a lot easier for us to move forward together"

I squeezed his hand, grateful for his support. "Yeah, together."

a/n : atleast we all know now the real reason matt wasn’t at tarayummys party 🤪🤪 part 19 reallllll sooon!!!!

taglist : @muwapsturniolo @anitahunt @sturnfannn @jayde510 @chrissfavhoe @babyalliah-777 @v33angel @urmom69lol @willowrites @ribread03 @2muchofaslvt @sturnsaver @sleepysturniolo @jcsturniolo11 @jessie-essie @hoeforchrizz @mynbbys @sturniolopanini @mattsturnxoxo @delicatechrry @t77te @sturnsyaper69 @hotdismylife @maggot3647 @ivysturnss @noplaceissafeanymore @mattssgf @yourfavsturniologirl @maethem0nth @sillyponygrl @mattyblover07 @imjusthereforthesturniolosmut @dominicfikeenthusiast @mattsfavbigtitties @ncm9696 @chrisstvrns @schlutt4matty @chrissolos @ilusa @amelia-sturniolo3 @wonnieeluvvr @pussydestroyer100 @amexiass @mystinkylefttoe26 @lizzysmith110 @sturniololovebot @secret-sturniolo

#snowy speaks #speeding car #matt sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #chris sturniolo #nick sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #the sturniolo triplets #nicolas sturniolo #chris sturniolo x reader #christopher sturniolo

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steddieas-shegoes · 3 months ago

Text

not pulling the plug

for @steddiemicrofic prompt ‘plug’

rated t | 437 words | cw: coma | tags: angst with a happy ending, Eddie lives, pre-relationship, Steve has a big crush on Eddie

🏥🏥🏥🏥🏥🏥🏥🏥🏥🏥🏥

Steve visited every day. Rain, shine, snow, didn’t matter.

Not even Wayne visited every day anymore. He went back to work a few months ago and some shifts had him missing visiting hours.

The kids were back in school and their parents weren’t always open to the idea of them using study time visiting Eddie, so they only came by on weekends or school holidays.

Robin came with Steve every Tuesday and Thursday, but she left after a few minutes, too sad to stay.

Steve stayed, sometimes for hours on end, talking about his day, updating Eddie on everything he thinks he should know. He reads the pop culture section of the newspaper every Friday, and tells him the Billboard lists every Monday. He reads books to him every Tuesday, and Robin’s school essays every Wednesday.

Every Thursday, a doctor comes in to talk to Wayne while Steve is there.

Every Thursday, the doctor recommends that they pull the plug on Eddie, that he’s as good as gone already and prolonging it just ends up hurting worse.

Every Thursday, Steve begs Wayne not to do what the doctor says.

Every Thursday, Wayne holds Steve’s hand and tells the doctor to go fuck himself in the nicest way possible.

Steve cries when he’s alone with Eddie.

He cries when he’s with Robin.

He cries when he’s in bed, awake from another nightmare where he didn’t save Eddie.

Because that’s what he did: he saved him.

No matter what the doctors and nurses say, Eddie is alive. There’s few things Steve knows for certain anymore, but that’s one of them.

As long as his heart is beating, Eddie Munson is alive.

“One year to the day,” Steve says quietly, hand wrapped around Eddie’s. “Can’t believe it’s been a year.”

He waits for any sign of Eddie being awake.

There isn’t.

“Dustin’s running a campaign in your honor tonight. Wayne offered his kitchen table for it, but I think he already regrets it.” Steve chuckles. “Dustin showed up at 11 last night to decorate. Wayne was pissed.”

He wasn’t, not really. If anything, Wayne’s grateful for the kids that come around a few times a month to remind him of Eddie. He just doesn’t admit it to them.

“Think he’d be lonely if they didn’t, though. I know I am.”

Admitting it kills Steve, but he doesn’t think Eddie can hear him. If he can, it’s not like he’s awake to say anything.

Steve sees Eddie’s finger twitch, then the corner of his mouth.

Eddie’s eyes blink open.

“Don’ be lonely,” he rasps.

Steve won’t have to be now.

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #steddiemicrofic #steddiemicroficaugust #angst with a happy ending #eddie munson lives

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finnsbubblegum · 2 years ago

Text

Playing House (Joel Miller X Reader)

Pairing: no-outbreak!joel miller x f!reader

Warnings: fluff, sweet joel, domestic joel, rom-com

Summary (Series): reader as Joel’s neighbor. Joel’s wife left him so Joel asked his neighbor for help in babysitting Sarah.

Summary: Zoo date with Joel and baby Sarah ended up in agreement to play house? What more could you ask for?

Words count: 1.7k

A/N: I’m trying to make this as a rom-com, hope you like my new series! This is part 3 of Where It All Starts. But it can also be read as a standalone. I'm beyond happy that many of you liked it so I hope you enjoy the next parts. Stay tuned and love you!

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20

It had already been a month since you babysat Sarah and you got closer to Joel. You spent almost every dinner with him. You even spent your weekends with him and baby Sarah. Joel and you probably even attached to each other at this point.

“We’re going to the zoo, yayy!!” You extended your hand to the back seat hyping up Sarah who was sitting in the baby car seat.

“You excited, babygirl?” Joel turned his head to look at Sarah before he drove.

*Sarah giggled*

“She’s definitely excited.” You laughed and looked at Joel.

“Seatbelt?” Joel reminded you.

“Right.” You grabbed the seatbelt and wore it.

“Okay. Done.” You told Joel.

“Alright. Let’s go.” Joel put his hands on the steering wheel and drove to the zoo.

At the zoo

“There’s so many people here.” You said as you cradled Sarah on your chest while waiting for Joel who was setting up the baby stroller.

“Maybe because it's the weekend?” Joel shrugged.

“Yeah.” You nodded and looked around.

“Ready?” Joel asked as he put the baby bag on his shoulder and held the baby stroller.

“She’s sleeping? Want to put her here?” Joel offered to put Sarah in the stroller.

“I’ll hold her for a while.”

Joel went to buy the tickets while you sat on the bench with Sarah. She slept so soundly so you decided to put her in the stroller.

“You got it?” You stood up as Joel was walking towards you.

“Yep.” Joel pushed the baby stroller and walked to the entrance with you.

It had been a while since the last time you went to the zoo so you got excited. You remembered when you were a kid you went to the zoo with your parents almost every month. You loved animals so you always asked your dad to bring you to the zoo.

“I missed this feeling.”

“Going to the zoo?” Joel raised his eyebrows.

“Yeah, I used to go to the zoo every month with my family.” You chuckled.

“Glad I asked you to come.” Joel smiled.

“Thanks, Joel. I feel like a kid again.” You stroked his muscly upper arm.

“You’re welcome.”

*Baby Sarah babbled*

“Someone is awake.” You walked forward and crouched to see Sarah.

Joel stopped and crouched beside you.

“Hey, babygirl. You want to see around?” He caressed Sarah’s cheek with his index finger.

*Sarah giggled*

Joel lifted Sarah from the stroller and carried her with one arm while the other arm pushed the stroller.

“Give me the bag. I’ll carry it.” You wanted to help.

“No, no. It’s heavy.” Joel refused.

“Why don’t we put it in the stroller?” You suggested.

“Oh, yeah. Right.” You took the bag from Joel’s shoulder and put it in the empty stroller.

*Saw a lion*

“There! Look sweetie, it’s a lion.” You pointed at the lion. Joel turned Sarah so she could see.

“Roaarr..” You roared and made a claw gesture to Sarah.

She just stared at you confused.

“She has no idea what you’re doin’.” Joel laughed.

“Yep. She didn’t even flinch.” You laughed.

“We should bring her back here again when she’s bigger. I’m sure she won’t remember today.” Joel added.

Joel froze for a second. He thought to himself, “I did not just say that.”. He was embarrassed with the words he just said. Did he just ask you to come to the zoo with him and Sarah a few years in the future? Did he just include you in his future? He was flustered but he had to act cool.

“Yes, she’s too small to remember. But she looks happy now.” You stroked Sarah’s head who was resting on Joel’s chest.

“I haven’t seen monkeys. Where’s the monkeys?” Joel tried to change the topic.

“Wait. Let’s see the map.” You looked at the map and found where the monkeys were.

“Here.” You pointed at the location and guided the way.

You and Joel walked around the zoo and enjoyed the moment. You introduced various animals to baby Sarah even though you know she didn’t understand and she wouldn’t remember it. But it was fun and important to interact with the baby so you did it anyway. Joel also interacted with Sarah, he made animals sound to her and you laughed at him.

The day at the zoo was really fun. And you couldn’t stop thinking about what the waitress from the Mexican place said. She said that the three of you looked really cute as a family and even said you two made a beautiful baby?! You actually got butterflies when you heard that. You had always liked playing house when you were a kid so you enjoyed this moment with Joel and baby Sarah. You felt like you were spending your weekend with your family with a husband and a baby daughter. It felt real and you liked it. You wondered what other people thought when they saw the three of you. Did they see you and Joel as a married couple with a baby? The thought itself made you giggle but you tried your best to hide it. For a moment, you forgot that you weren’t ready to commit to a relationship.

“Do you want to sit for a while and get somethin’ to eat?” Joel pointed to an empty seat and table.

“Yeah, I’m kinda hungry.” You put your hand to your stomach.

“Sit here.” Joel dragged the chair for you to sit.

You moved the baby bag from the stroller and Joel put Sarah in the stroller.

“Hot dog?” Joel asked.

“Yeah, anything.” You nodded.

“Okay, wait here.” Joel nodded and walked away to buy hot dogs.

While waiting for Joel, you pushed the stroller back and forth so Sarah could sleep.

“Here.” Joel passed you the hot dog.

“Thank you.” You grab a bite to the hot dog.

Joel and you talked as you ate. Joel suggested that you sit for a while and rest.

“Joel..”

“Yeah?”

“Do you remember the last time we met my ex that morning months ago? I haven’t talked to you about it..I-uh-I’m sorry I let him believe we were married. I just-I just want him to believe I’m happy without him. I mean I am happy. I’m sure you heard me that day. Well, long story short, he cheated on me. So I hate him so much.” You rolled your eyes as you tried to open up to him.

“I totally understand. You don’t have to apologize. He’s a jerk. Let him believe we’re married, I’m your husband, that’s okay, as long as I can help you.” Joel’s words touched your heart. How could a man be this sweet?

“Thank you, Joel.”

“I-uh-I also haven’t told you about Sarah’s mom.”

“Wait, I have a confession to make.” You stopped Joel.

“Confession?” Joel raised his eyebrows.

“I actually overheard you and Sarah’s mom on the night she left.” You confessed.

“Oh..Yeah so she left us. We had a shotgun wedding and she decided to leave 3 months after Sarah was born. Said we’re not meant to be together. Doesn’t want a baby and everythin’.” He sighed.

“You deserve better, Joel.” You put your hand on top of his.

“Thank you.” He smiled at you.

“You know what? Should we keep doing this?” You lightened up the mood.

“Do what?” Joel was confused.

“This. Us playing house.” You pointed at him and yourself back to back.

Joel raised his eyebrows, pouted his lips and nodded.

“Should we make a contract?” You joked.

“Contract? I don’t follow.” Joel rested his chin on his palm.

“You know. Like in movies where they make contracts for fake relationships and stuff.” You explained. Joel nodded as he listened to you trying to digest what you were saying.

“At least we could do it in front of our exes. You did that for me. I’ll do that for you too if you want me to.”

“That sounds fun.” Joel was interested in your proposal.

“So should we write a contract now?” Joel asked.

“No, no. I was just joking. How about just a verbal pact?” You laughed.

“Deal.” He stretched his hand to you to shake your hand.

“Alright, Mr. Miller. Deal.” You shook his hand.

*baby cries*

“Time to eat.” You laughed.

Joel took the baby bottle from the baby bag and put Sarah in his arms to feed her.

“You hungry, huh?” Joel looked at Sarah as he fed her.

After Joel fed her, he stood up and put Sarah facing away from him to help her burp.

“Can I do it?” You offered.

“It’s okay. You don’t have to.”

“I want to.” You insisted.

Joel passed Sarah to you and you placed Sarah on your chest facing back. You supported her chin on your shoulder and gently patted her back. After one or two minutes, she let out a burp.

“Good girl.” You chuckled.

“Oh!” You suddenly felt damp on your shoulder.

You turned away to show your back to Joel.

“Is there something on my back?” You asked Joel.

“Uhm..Yes..” Joel didn’t know what to say.

“What is it?” You panicked.

“I think Sarah just dribbled some milk on you.” Joel rubbed his mouth.

“Uh-oh.” You put Sarah back to the stroller and tried to look at your back.

Joel quickly got some tissue and helped you wiped the milk on your shoulder and hair.

“Here. Why don’t you change into this?” He took off his outer flannel shirt and gave it to you. He was now wearing only a white shirt.

“Thank you.” You went to the restroom to change and went back to him and Sarah.

“It looks like I’m wearing a dress.” You chuckled.

“You look cute.” Joel praised you but his voice was so small.

He didn’t want you to hear him. You heard him anyway but you acted like you didn’t. In fact, you were blushing. You and Joel continued wandering around the zoo, joking and laughing until the zoo closed then you went home.

“Today was fun.” Joel said as he parked the car in the driveway.

“I had a great time. Thank you.” You reached his hand and gave a slight touch.

“She’s sleeping.” You whispered as you looked at baby Sarah in the back seat.

“We gotta keep quiet.” Joel whispered and chuckled.

“I’ll wash your shirt and give you back tomorrow?” You pinched the shirt.

“Don’t worry about that.”

You went home smelling Joel’s shirt and giggled. His woody, musky, masculine smell gives you comfort and you wished you could keep it. But you had to give it back so you gave it a last smell before you put it in your washing machine and got back to reality.

To be continued…

Taglist:

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jiminjamms · 9 months ago

Text

sex therapy :: 26. together

chapter tags/warnings: a very broken marriage. heavy angst. at least i am not gege. mai and maki and megumi as an iconic trio. infidelity/adultery. family drama. strong language. corruption.

word count: 4.8k

notes: thank you for the overwhelming reception from the last chapter! work has been consuming my life, sadly, which is why this chapter took longer than i anticipated. gr. in this upcoming piece, though, my main focuses are the character development in y/n as well as explanations from toji himself. enjoy! likes, comments, and reblogs are much appreciated. xoxo

fic masterlist | 01. 02. 03. 04. 05. 06. 07. 08. 09. 10. 11. 12. 13. 14. 15. 16. 17. 18. 19. 20. 21. 22. 23. 24. 25. 26. 27. 28. 29. 30. 31. 32. 33.

A large, warm hand massaged the delicate stretch between your thumb and forefinger.

Gently. Leisurely. Daintily.

Vanilla and cinnamon notes entered your lungs with every inhale, a velvetiness akin to everything you imagined clouds to be like if brushing against your cheek, the comforting sensations bringing back nostalgic memories from the carefree times your heart longed to return to.

Was this Heaven? you wondered in this dark and dreamy daze.

You would not mind staying in this state eternally if that meant the promise of peace and quiet forever.

A voice, not from yourself, dispersed your thoughts.

“Suguru, what are the chances she won’t ever wake up?”

Wake up?

Oh, so you were just asleep.

“Shut up, Sukuna,” another person quipped, this tone more leveled and coarser than the last. “Don’t say shit like that.”

The first person, who must be Sukuna then, chuckled lowly to himself. “Oh, who would’ve thought? Choso is having a soft spot?” he marveled with great interest, “Since when did you care so much about—”

But a third voice interrupted the banter. “She’s awake.”

After a long struggle, your eyes fluttered open to see a crowd gathered around you. Immediately beside you was Suguru Geto. He had been the one nestling your hand, but he practically didn’t look like himself with the concern etched into his brow, replacing the cheerfulness in his typical visage. Behind him stood Sukuna and Choso. The former grinned with fierce satisfaction, while the latter…scowled at you?

To be fair, Choso always scowled at you.

“Good evening, gorgeous.” Geto greeted with a melancholic smile, giving you another squeeze, firm and encouraging. Like a true gentleman, he helped you sit upright, his other hand reaching over your head to brush aside some stray strands by your forehead. “Are you feeling okay?”

Exhaustion, meanwhile, rattled you to the bone.

You were weak, your movements fragile, almost like you were a fawn in her first hours of life. You blinked rapidly while taking in the new environment, only to quickly recognize the gray and cream colors in your surroundings. Back at Toji’s apartment was where you found yourself, with the familiar spiced floral scents from the flickering candle nearby confirming that this was the master bedroom.

Given the dull throb by your temples, you frowned.

“What—?” your voice came out as a hoarse rasp. “What happened?”

The trio traded looks at each other with communicative eyes.

In the end, Choso tucked his hands into his front pocket and took the initiative to speak.

“You were in the Zenin residence with Mai and Maki, remember?” No, not really.“Got into an argument with your husband. Started having a panic attack. Collapsed. Puked.”

Oh…

Recollections from your last conscious moments flooded your head like a tsunami: the screaming, the crying, and the fighting. Loud, angry, bitter fighting.

Fighting for your dignity. Fighting for your heart. Fighting for your life. Goodness gracious. As much as the memories sucked all life from you, you instead felt completely…numb.

After all, you had already been dead on the inside. You were too worn out, both physically and emotionally, to react. Everything that you had to go through since your wedding had brought you to your wit’s end, and this recent altercation with Naoya Zenin was truly the icing on the cake.

When you caught sight of yourself in a nearby mirror, you could hardly recognize yourself. Your expression, glum. Your lips, chafed, Your face, pallor. Absent of any other color than an ashen hue.

“How…did I get here?”

“Mai and Maki got worried and called Toji, who told them to bring you here,” Sukuna answered this time. “You’re lucky the girls reacted fast, else we would have sent you to an emergency room. Suguru even stopped his shift at his clinic to watch over you.”

“I—,” you sighed, lost for words and dropping your tired gaze to the floor. Dealing with inner turmoil to this degree was more than what any sane person could handle. All efforts towards your happiness were in vain anyway, as the cosmos conspired to make your existence one neverending nightmare. Everyone else had their ambitions and shit to deal with, but here you were as an absolute nuisance to the people who should not be otherwise pestered, and you were ashamed for the unnecessary trouble that you had caused. “Gosh, this is embarrassing.”

“We are so sorry!”

Unexpectedly, the apology came from a girl’s voice, and you had to turn around to see three familiar teenagers by the bedroom door.

Just last week, you would never have imagined ever seeing Mai, Maki, and Megumi together. Yet, here you were, watching the twins and their—technically speaking—nephew (cute) standing side-by-side, twiddling their thumbs in their nervous corner (also cute).

Flustered and prepared for admonishment, Mai bowed her head at a slight angle as she hurriedly explained, “We don’t…We don’t mean to put you in an awkward position. We just didn’t know what to do. Maki and I were worried when you fell to the floor and started throwing up. We…We should’ve asked for your permission on who to call for help. But we didn’t know who else to phone, so we ended up dialing Toji. Now, we’ve put you in a weird spot and that is all our fault—”

“Do not apologize. That was the right thing to do.” The comment came from yet another person, and when Sukuna and Choso stepped to the side, who you saw at the room’s furthest end was none other than Toji Fushiguro himself.

He had taken a seat all the way by the wall, with one leg thrust over the other in a relaxed but kingly sort of manner. With his sleeves rolled up, his forearms bled to his wrists with ink, and the emeralds in his sharp gaze gleamed as he stared pointedly in your direction.

Of everyone in the room, his countenance appeared the most composed, but you could feelhim reading through the emotions present on your face. He inclined forward, resting his elbow on his knee and his chin on his palm.

When he noticed the slightest shift in your posture too, the tiny scar by his lips flexed along with a smile.

“So, you’ve figured me out, hm?”

Easily, you could sense all seven pairs of eyes in the room (the four therapists plus the three teens) landing on you. The sudden attention rendered you nervous. Even if you chose silence as your response, the entire room, the entire planet, and perhaps even the entire galaxy could speculate your answer through your expression alone.

After a long while, you breathed out, “You didn’t tell me that you were a Zenin.”

The elephant in the room had to be addressed obviously, and you were not shy to confront the situation head-on.

While you did not intend to sound accusatory, your tone came off as such anyway. How could you not, when you had essentially been misled for weeks? Sure, Toji probably did not want to be badmouthing the Zenins to the very person (you) who had been recently married into the family. But, by withholding the fact that he and your husband were cousins, Toji had created much unnecessary anguish including the current limbo that your marriage was in right now.

Meanwhile, that same man pressed his nails into his chin in contemplation.

“I am not a Zenin, though,” he eventually corrected in a domineering voice, all austere in his throne. “At least, not any longer. I took my first wife’s last name years ago. I go by Fushiguro now.” Curt, direct, and pithy. Toji wasted not a syllable. “Everything worked out though, I guess. Naobito cut me off from the Zenin clan earlier this year. Gave me ten billion yen and told me to get lost, so I did.”

Toji always kept his private matters to himself, but with everything that he had gone through, you were struck by his poise, as if being expelled from such an influential household had been a high-school breakup he had gotten over long ago.

Nonetheless, you wondered if he missed that other life, and you brought your knees toward your chest.

“So,” how should you put this, “you’re not upset?”

Toji scoffed immediately.

“Upset?” A bitter grin spread off his lips. “Why would I be upset? That household is a trash dump. All my life, there were no choices for me to make when my uncles and granduncles decided everything already,” and he began counting with his fingers, “my teachers, my classes, my extracurriculars, my friends. Everything. I was only a puppet to bring honor to the family name, bring in money for the company.”

Listening to his sonorous voice, you rested your cheek onto a knee.

"I see."

His story was depressing, and from conversations with in-laws such as Mai and Maki, you knew that he was not lying, either. Coming from nobility as well, you were also aware of the pressures that came with the people who boasted their 'old-money' statuses, but the Zenin household had always been notorious for being miserable.

Toji had said so before in a prior discussion, how ‘family isn’t family for something like the Zenins’ because both politics and business took precedence.

Then, he went on.

“Some people would kill to have my problems, but I did not want that life, you know? Around the time I started college, I decided that I wanted to make judgments for myself and be my own distinct entity, but that made people upset. Privileged. Entitled. Ungrateful. Whatever. My family members called me many things as a young adult when they figured I did not want to be their pawn for my whole life, with the only person who understood me for many years being my best friend in university.”

Megumi’s mom.

Toji nearly appeared to be an altogether different person whenever he spoke about his first wife. The chartreuse in his eyes would stir with both sorrow and fond reminiscence as he thought about the Mrs. Fushiguro you would never get to meet, his closest confidant whom he lost to the cruel separation brought by life versus death. She must have been someone whom he valued a lot—a person who completely transformed him—as Toji had discarded his last name (which was Zenin, of all things) for hers.

‘He truly loved my mom,’ Megumi explained before. 'He had given up everything.’

Thus, fate could truly be unfair.

The loss and pain Toji must have endured, a topic Megumi had alluded to in his discussion with you before.

Not to mention, the expectations, frustration, and suffocation that came from the clan's elders, too. Experiencing the intense atmosphere in the Zenin household firsthand allowed you to empathize with him. Given the stark differences between him and your lawful husband, there was no wonder Toji did not wish to deal with his older relatives' high-strung conventions.

But, if he had been suffering so much…

“Why did you care so much for what your family thought?” you asked, disregarding the look that the three teenagers by the door exchanged with each other. “Toji, you went to university in the United States. You had a wife and son at a young age. You went from a business background to a licensed therapist, so why did you not—”

“Leaving is difficult when you’re the family heir and the corporation’s CEO.”

The expression that you then returned was blank.

Huh?

His words triggered something in your head, so you repeated after him.

“Leaving is difficult when,” and your voice trailed off, “when…you…are the heir and CEO.”

Heir. CEO.

Zenin.

Toji.

Naoya.

But Toji’s older.

‘Naoya got into a huge dispute with him earlier this year.’

Sheer realization slapped you hard across your face. No way.

“Toji,” you began after letting the revelation sink into you a while later, but your voice barely eeked above a mumble, “so you were once the successor to the Zenin household and company?"

The man in question did not respond, but the silent affirmation from the six other onlookers was an answer in itself.

Yes.

In hindsight, you wanted to say you had always seen the possibility. Still, you never fully registered this until now: the thoughtfulness in his strategy, the sophistication in his speech, the charisma in his leadership.

Previously, Toji had impressed you with how much he knew about the Zenin Corporation’s market share in the Asia-Pacific or the firm’s outsized influence on the international stage. Yet, most (including yourself) would not guess that someone like Toji Fushiguro—your tattooed and brawny sex therapist (plus single dad)—had once been heralded as the indisputable inheritor to the proud lineage and conglomerate.

That had been your mistake.

Toji was more than what people made him out to be, which reminded you to never assume anything superficially about someone—a remark he had once made. For good reason, because he had been referring to himself all along.

You could almost visualize Toji Fushiguro as the seasoned executive he had once been in light of this new information: his black strands slicked into a side part, his charcoal blazer freshly pressed, his leather oxfords newly polished.

Maybe because he was more mature or maybe because he was simply older, but Toji appeared more fitting for the important roles in the Zenin household compared to the man presently poised for succession.

Consequently, you must also ask, “Then, how did Naoya end up in your seat?”

Sukuna and Megumi shared a glance.

Choso grimaced, and Suguru kissed his teeth.

Meanwhile, Toji ran a lone finger down his jaw, following the lines from a tattoo.

“Let me give you some context, sweetheart,” he offered, now brushing his chin as he spoke. “For the last—let’s say—few hundred years, the oldest male in each generation became the leader in the Zenin clan. Is the rule stupid? Yes. Should there be more criteria in evaluating a potential heir aside from birth order? Also yes. But nothing has stopped this before because the Zenins, as you know by now, are a family built on antiquity and tradition. So, when I was born as the oldest male in my generation and Naoya had come in second place...”

Toji did not have to finish his sentence for you to figure out the rest.

Despite the demands that came along with being the next family head, Toji must have been esteemed as nothing short of a crown price among the Japanese elite, with seniors in the Zenin household utilizing all their resources to prepare the once young and starry-eyed boy for taking over such an influential role. Naturally, his enviable position would spark jealousy, even from those whom Toji deemed related to by birth.

Including his very own younger first cousin.

Toji frowned in exasperation.

“Your husband is one childish and jealous brat, but Naoya Zenin has been like that for as long as I have known him. To claim the heir and CEO titles, he acquired the trust from myself and my colleagues by working with us in sex therapy, only to stab us all in the back. He’s a liar. A total manipulator.”

And, from personal experiences, you knew that those words could not be more true.

At this point, Toji sank his handsome face into his immense palm.

“Well, now Naoya Zenin has everything he wants but is still an incompetent asshole. The whole enterprise is hanging by a thread. The entire clan cannot fucking stand him. What’s crazy is that his father Naobito is not doing anything about this, and I cannot tell if that is because the old man is giving his son free passes or because he has finally gotten senile. With Naoya's pettiness, though, the father-son duo have done everything to erase my name from the family, even going as far as to dismiss the executives that I brought onto the management team to undo my legacy.”

When Toji glanced up to cast his gaze forward, you then suddenly understood that the three other men in the room were more than just his fellow board-licensed colleagues.

You recalled Toji’s words in the Teyvat meeting room.

‘I recruited these guys right when they completed their undergraduate degrees, around the time I just opened my therapy office,’ and the puzzle pieces clicked into place from the realization that sex therapy had not been the only thing that Toji had worked with them on—Sukuna, Choso, and Suguru had been executives at the Zenin Corporation reporting to Toji, too. ‘We’ve been working together since, for the past four years.’

Discerning these revelations from your expressions, Toji added in confirmation.

“I had selected these three to oversee the Zenin Corporation’s operations with me,” he said, and you remembered the same conversation in which the men discussed their University of Tokyo studies while Toji listed their previous roles. Sukuna, Economics. “Sukuna, Director of Investments and Real Estate.” Choso, Mechanical Engineering. “Choso, Chief Engineer and Supply Chain Manager.” Suguru, Biology. “Suguru, Healthcare and Innovation Administrator.”

Arguably the most consequential divisions in a conglomerate that spanned numerous sectors, with each department bringing in yen by the billions every year.

‘These guys have treated me like family more than my blood-related kin have.’

Learning this about the four therapists added to your fascination.

For you, the discovery was like uncovering a hidden treasure trove. To imagine everything that the four—as one cohesive unit—had gone through together at the top of the corporate ladder: scrutiny from the media and stakeholders, impromptu meetings that demanded make-or-break decisions, and immediate responses to industry trends and regulations.

Only for them to be cast aside by no one other than your husband.

In the end, this all made sense.

Now, you understood why the therapists were once incredibly demeaning and belligerent toward you. How could they possibly sympathize with the woman married to the man who had taken virtually everything from them?

Heck, if you were in their shoes and had no further context, you would hate yourself, too.

Only now were you hearing their perspectives, and you were grateful that—compared to several weeks before—they trusted you enough to open up.

At last, all you could do was sigh and mutter, “I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

Sukuna shot back without hesitation, which stunned you given how he had been the one who mocked you the most. Yet, a scintilla of kindness flared in his fiery eyes, so you continued with your tone softer and quieter.

“I feel terrible.” Such vulnerability in front of so many people at once went beyond your comfort zone. “For the unfairness Naoya had brought upon you all, and how I…I can’t change anything. I can’t do anything. All I am is…useless.”

“No, you are powerful,” Suguru interjected this time. “Your husband relies on your public image to keep scrutiny off him. He needs you. He’s been demoralizing you for months because he knows the ball will always be in your court, and never his.”

His words made you stop.

“You truly think so?” you asked.

“Yes.”

Choso, who replied, seemed honest.

He was honest.

He might throw you off from how aloof and stoic his attractive face would appear, but Choso was not a liar.

Bringing your feet off the bed, you slowly swung your feet.

“I…am surprised you all even want to talk to me.”

Toji tugged at his dress shirt’s collar and flashed his ink-covered muscles underneath. “What makes you think that?”

His pointed question made you realize how much Naoya had been fucking with your mind, blaming and villainizing you at every chance, thus devolving you into a spineless worm feeling remorse for every little thing.

Shrugging, you tossed your gaze to the side.

“I don’t know,” you admitted. “You could have avenged yourself by now. I am Naoya’s wife and Naobito’s daughter-in-law. There had been a thousand chances for you to do something horrible to me: to hurt me, blackmail me, spread dirty rumors about me, but…you haven’t.”

“Why would I do that?” Toji replied instantly and candidly. Rather than appearing offended by your judgments, he started giving you that look again whenever he had his therapist hat on—the one where he would tilt his head at a slight angle to gauge the sentiments painted across your face. “I could have chosen to be bitter and vengeful for the rest of my life, but I am grateful for what I have. Why let a toxic bunch impact my life? I already told you how that household is an absolute fucking hell. I'm glad I have found an out. At the very least, my son would not have to deal with the crap from my young adult years because you know who is the oldest male in the generation after mine?”

Megumi.

All gazes now fell upon the younger Fushiguro, who tried to casually shrug the attention off.

Who cares if I was second-in-line to leading perhaps the most prestigious family in Japan? his nonchalance wanted to convey, but his ears turned pink anyway.

Toji continued, “Then, of course, there are some people whom I care about a lot.” Using his head, he gestured to the twins. “These girls are the best aunts to my son that I, as a father, could ever ask for. They’re only one year older than Megumi, but Mai and Maki used to go on playdates with him on the weekends, walk him to school every morning, and cook him breakfasts over the holidays. The twins even helped my son take his first steps. There is this one photo we have in the library—I don’t know if you have gotten a chance before to see it. But there’s Mai and Maki, each holding one of Megumi’s little hands back in his chubby toddler days and—”

“Dad!” a very flustered and irritated teenage boy finally had to say. “This is not the time to talk about that picture!”

Next to him, a proud Mai and Maki coo and tease their grouchy nephew, poking at his puffed-up cheeks and ruffling his uncombed hair.

“Aw, is someone a little embarrassed?”

Smiling at the little banter from the trio, Toji did not let them distract him from his conversation with you. “What I’m trying to get at is…life’s too short not to enjoy the happy sides of it,” but his eyes glazed with rue nevertheless, “Now is the perfect time to focus on your well-being. Take a look around this room. A lot of people want to see you leading a fulfilling life, Y/N. A fulfilling life for yourself, not for anyone else. Not for me, not for anyone in this room, and certainly not for your husband. Nothing—and I mean absolutely nothing—should hold you back from pursuing your health and happiness.”

While you assumed that your best times were over, Toji reminded you those good days can be brought back with the right attitude. He had a point. Why should you allow your marriage to hinder you from connecting with people whom you care about, working towards the passions that brought you purpose, and feeling the love that you deserve?

Instead, you should seek every sunrise and sunset as an opportunity to live better and without regrets.

As you ruminated on this different mindset, a sudden knock from the door cut your thoughts short.

Who…

Like you, most others looked around blankly, but Toji ordered from his seat, “Let him in.”

Mai, who stood closest to the entryway, obeyed.

Once she unlocked the door, the room fell silent save for the footsteps of the man walking in, his soles creating soft echoes on the linoleum floor. Overhead, pale lights revealed the lines etched on his exhausted face, the worry that sat heavily on his chest.

“Mister Daisuke,” someone eventually acknowledged out of respect.

Your father did not hear the greeting as he searched the room, his sullen gaze darting from face to face until he found you. His shoulders fell from his overwhelming relief. Still in a suit after a long workday, he stumbled forward feebly.

“You’re alright,” he whispered between steps, scarcely audible.

He crouched toward the floor once he approached you, and when Suguru transferred your hands into your father’s, you noticed the unstoppable quiver from the latter even as you gripped him tightly in an attempt to stop the tremor.

His skin was tough, weathered by his additional decades in life. But, in his palms, you found the familiar tenderness that had comforted you since you were a little girl and, in his gaze, you noticed the sadness only found in the despair of a heartbroken parent.

“Thank goodness, you are okay,” and before everyone, tears slipped past his eyes, “I was terrified. I was so scared. When Toji called to tell me you had thrown up and collapsed, do you know how afraid I was?”

You glanced over at the said therapist, reminding yourself that—if Toji had been the CEO before Naoya—he must have worked very closely with your COO father up until recently. For your father to know exactly where you were and walk in with this expression suggested that the former colleagues had had a lengthy conversation about your circumstances. A part of you wanted to be angry. Why drag your father into this worry? But a larger part of you had always wanted to reveal to him the wretched months that had gone by and longed for his support.

And now, he was here.

The older man took a shuddering breath and brought his fingers to your cheek, holding and cradling you like he would never get to do this again.

“I can’t lose you,” he lamented. “I have lost enough in my life already. I cannot lose you, too. I just can’t. Why have you not told me the truth? If you were not happy with Naoya, why have you not told me sooner? Did you think I would place my loyalty to the company over my own child? I feel so guilty and broken to hear about what you have been going through.”

Frankly, you felt just as broken, too.

In fact, seeing and hearing your father weep like this shattered you. As devoted as your father was, his front never failed to be unwavering and strong. Even when your mother’s death left a significant hole in his heart, he bit back his grief. Scars from your mother’s untimely death scarred his heart, wounds that never healed and would stay with him until his last breath, but he rarely expressed his suppressed sorrow.

All for your sake. Because you were his one and only daughter, his one and only child.

So now, for him to see you in such a sorry state was crushing his whole world that had become you.

“Dad.” You helped him wipe his tears away, just like how he had always done for you. “I didn’t want to make you disappointed. I didn’t want to make you sad. I…I just wanted to protect you.”

“No,” he responded firmly. How could a loving father accept the possibility that his daughter would even think about placing him before herself? “Protect yourself first.”

You looked up when you sensed two more approaching individuals and found Mai and Maki with doleful smiles.

“We still have something to return to you, Y/N.”

In your left palm, each girl pressed one ring—the first which promised a future forever and the second which symbolized an infinite unity.

You stared at the jewelry as your chest remembered the waves of happiness, excitement, hope, confusion, betrayal, and pain.

So, so much pain.

Your father, who would not miss the solemn undertones in your gaze, squeezed your hands in his.

“My dear daughter,” he started, and you could tell he could no longer bear to see you suffer any longer, “what are you planning to do?”

Your throat turned dry.

Any possibility seemed like a viable solution, a means for a desperate escape.

For months, you should have prepared yourself for this very question, but now that you were confronted with this reality for the first time, you did not know what to say.

You had clutched onto the false hope for your troubled marriage to be sorted out. Escaping your dreary matrimony had once been too far-fetched of an option given an impending cold war between your families, which you would never wish upon the stars to happen. Therefore, even as you found yourself stuck on a stifling dead end, you did not exactly prepare for the next steps for the occasion you found Naoya Zenin’s mistreatment too much to bear.

However, times have changed.

Your allies and enemies have changed.

Most of all, you have changed.

Therefore, with all the universe’s possibilities at your fingertips, one particular option stuck out.

“I’m going to file for a divorce.”

last chapter || next chapter

end notes: So many things. To see us freak out at the idea of a divorce during the beginning of the fic, up to now, where we suggested the option out of our volution. Also, the much-needed heart-to-heart conversation between Toji and us, and how that really shows a slow maturation in our relationship with him (and everyone else)! Let me know what you think, and see you next chapter!

taglist: @dissociatingdiva @httpsplanetmarsdotcom @nemoyr @huangfairy @shadowarchon @203steph @agentdedf1sh @cloudybabes @lynn-writes-things @illicitwriter @7oji @kikuchimi @chaoticjojofan @musicisme333 @kumocchin @s-guru @mwahilovemylife @hey-gurls69 @cloudsinthecosmos @moon-mumu-moon @kazscara @skilerfrostfairy @funicidals @nico707 @proteovaldez @tsukiyohanayome @marimoares @qirbys @puffaloxx @sakanoshitaa @arizzu @kissditrio @lewd-bunny14 @mistyheart @szired @supsii @yvy1s @tokyometronetwork @downtown-roponggi @the-cosmos-network

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svtoose · 5 months ago

Text

Backache ft. Kim Mingyu

pairing: mingyu x gn!reader

word count: .6k

f + c : reader helps mingyu out n its very fluffy

warnings: some innuendos, mingyu's back is really sore

request: "Hi I was wondering if I could request a mingy fic in which mingyu's back pain requires him to need a massage but due to weather conditions he cant go so reader offers to massage him and does it pretty well"

a/n : I've been pretty mia so here it is!

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

After an exhausting day of practice, Mingyu feels the muscles in his back begin to painfully tighten. His neck, his shoulders, his back, are all seeking the attention of a masseuse. As he heads down to exit the Hybe building, the sound of raindrops thudding against the windows becomes apparent to him. The awful weather conditions leave Mingyu with two options; he can either spend his whole night commuting to the masseuse’s office, or he can simply drive home to you.

After weighing his options, Mingyu decides to head home. He misses you tons and figures his back pain is nothing cuddles cant soothe. He pulls his hood over his head and jogs out the door to his car. While he drives home, all he can think about is how you’re managing to get home in this weather. Mingyu pulls into the driveway and head up to your apartment, eager to change out of his damp clothes.

He takes a quick shower which helps to soothe his pain, but the soreness in his bones is becoming overwhelming. With careful steps, he makes his way to the living room couch and lays on his stomach, hoping that’ll offer some relief. “Y/nnn” he whines to himself, praying for you to come home soon. He knows your presence will make things better.

After dosing off for a few minutes, Mingyu finally hears the door unlock.

“Oh, hi Mingyu,” you say slightly out of breath from dashing through the rain.

“Baby, I missed you.” You chuckle at your whiny boyfriend.

“I missed you too, Gyu. Is everything okay?” You begin to worry as Mingyu lies limp on the couch, not even arising for your daily after-work hug.

“Hurt my back today in practice,” he groans into the cushion. You walk toward the couch and take a seat next to your injured Mingyu.

“Aww, you poor thing. Did you want to go to your massage therapist?... Well maybe not in this weather,” you consider your options while your hands mindlessly begin to work their way into Mingyu’s shoulders.

“Ahh.” He makes a sharp sound and your hands immediately retract.

“Oh Im so sorry Mingyu!”

“No, no. That feels good. Can you keep doing it?” He turns your head toward and smiles along with his plea. Surely, you won’t deny your boyfriend any sort of relief.

“Move over a bit,” you order. You have him lay on his backs arms to his side, as you take a seat down his lower back, almost straddling your boyfriend as you begin to undo the knots in his shoulders.

Your fingers gracefully move along the crevices as the tension begins to loosen. In the meanwhile, Mingyu makes all sorts of questionable noises.

“Quiet down unless you want the neighbors to get the wrong idea.” That earns you a little chuckle from your boyfriend.

After good fifteen minutes, you climb off mingles back and take a seat by his side, unsure if he’s still awake.

“I’m done, love. How does that feel?”

He turns over, wearing a most euphoric expression on his face. “Thank you baby. That was the best thing I’ve ever felt,” he exhales. "The best thing?" You ask interrogatively. He looks taken aback back by your comment. After giving himself a moment to think, he speaks again. "Second best thing." He answers lightly smirking, as he pulls you into his arms.

For the rest of the night, you guys cuddle in each other’s warmth, recounting the details of your days. By 11 p.m. the conversation has completely taken a turn, somewhere into the bare embrace of one another.

#seventeen #svt x reader #svt fanfic #mingyu #kim mingyu #seventeen oneshot #sickfic #svt sickfic #svtoose

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shanastoryteller · 7 months ago

Note

Happy birthday!!! More sacrifice is free pls!!!

a continuation of 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17

Maes told Riza not to do it but the only one she'll sometimes listen to is Roy and Roy's dead.

Roy’s dead and when he wakes to a gun going off in the middle of the night, right in the center of camp, he knows that Riza’s dead too. Even if she’s managed to kill Elric instead of being killed by him, she won’t live for long. She’ll be executed for getting rid of one of the military’s most valuable assets.

Maes leaves his tent to see Elric standing there, and his heart drops.

Elric looks like shit, sleep rumpled and pale and deep circles under his eyes, and if he’s alive then Riza isn’t.

“It’s alright,” he yawns, “just a little accident with Denny. Sorry ‘bout that.”

The general steps forward. “Since you’re awake-”

“I’m going back to bed,” he says shortly. “I’ll give my report when I’m not on the verge of passing out.”

He opens his mouth, but Elric turns his back on him and heads back to his section of camp. He doesn’t say anything about Riza. He’s not going to try and hide her body, is he? There’s no point. No one’s going to care about him killing her, not with who he is and what he does.

He goes to Riza’s tent and finds Havoc already there, pacing anxiously. “Do you think-“

“I don’t know,” he says, because he doesn’t know, but he can guess.

Havoc knows that and his face tightens in misery. “Maybe she-“

“Havoc,” he says tiredly, because false hope will kill them both, and then where will they be?

The flap pushes open and he sees blonde hair but it’s Brosh, looking at them both in resignation. Was he the one that did it? Elric had said that it was Denny, but who knows, really.

“Come on,” Brosh sighs. “I really don’t want to explain this twice.”

#prompt answers #prompts are closed #asks #gayandfullofdismay #fma

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safination · 1 month ago

Text

Partners in Death...and Life

After The Glimpse

|Masterlist| Ao3|

“You were taking too long,” you say, plain and simple. As if that would answer all his questions. Those eyes of yours land on his knuckles. There’s no reason to hide them from you, especially when you’re looking at him with that sad, sad, expression he painted across your face. It’s in the way your lips wobble, and it’s in the way your eyebrows furrowed together. “I would never leave you.” You press your cheek into his palm, nuzzling into it even as blood transfers to your skin. “Nothing will keep me from following after you.” Alastor swipes his thumb across your face. “Even to the depths of hell?” “Even past that, my dear.”

Pairings: Alastor x wife!Reader Tags: fem!Reader, AFAB, Established Relationship, Asexual! Alastor , being a simp for your partner, Asexual! Alastor, husband! Alastor. human! Alastor

THIS CAN BE READ AS A STAND-ALONE Please read this. I'm begging you, but no pressure!

WELL, WELL, WELL. Here we are again. I'm doing three to four bonus chapters. If you want to be tagged, just tell me lol. I didn't think I would be adding a bonus chapter for this fic, but oh well, here we are again. I've missed you guys and I've missed writing my favorite married couple. This is also a special thank you to my friends from VoxTec (Yes, we're friends. I claim you as my friends.) I would have been done with my this fandom if it wasn't for them. Say thank you to them because I've been writing because of them

|Part 9: The Vows That Bind Me [Finale]| |Part 11: Before The Last [Bonus]|

ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ

Alastor needs better car seats.

It’s official – your ass is numb from sitting too long. It spread down your thighs, and straight into your bones. A walk would certainly fix this problem, but you’ve already taken five in the past hour.

Maybe, this wouldn’t be an issue if Alastor invested in comfortable seats. All that money from being a celebrity, and yet, he drives a shit car!

You lean your head on the window, subtly stretching your legs to increase blood flow.

Moonlight illuminates the area around, painting shadows in the shape of trees. It’s the only source of light for miles because of course, it is. The trees howl from the force of the wind, and the shadows dance against the car window.

Well . . . that totally does not bring a chill up your spine. There’s totally no reason to shrink deeper into the shitty car seats. Really, it’s not creepy – not one bit.

“Tired already?” Alastor peeks out an eye. He’s settled on the seat, hands folded across his stomach. “It would bring me great joy to say, ‘I told you so’ because I did tell you, dearest, these things take time.”

Something hoots from the forest, and you’ve had enough.

You lean away from the window, and straight into Alastor’s side. It’s funny, really, how the simple brush of his clothes, and maybe, just maybe, the darkness outside doesn’t seem as frightening as before.

“I haven’t said anything yet, but I didn’t think it would take this long,” you say, mumbling into him, and pull your legs up the seat to curl closer. “I told you I wasn’t going to complain. So, I won’t.”

Alastor pushes your knees, forcing your feet off the car seats.

You laugh into his chest, and settle deeper into him, with your feet staying where it should be—off his shitty car seat.

Alastor wraps an arm around you, tracing circles on your arm with a slight chuckle. The tips of his finger go round and round and round. It pulls you into the lull – eyes blinking to stay awake. A small tune escapes him, and the vibration of his chest forces your eyes to shut.

“I won’t make you wait too long,” Alastor says into your hair. “The drugs will wear off soon, remember. I’ll make quick work of him, and we can go home together.”

A small hum. “Is that a promi— ”

BANG!

Panicked roars of anger bounce against the small space of the trunk, startling you out of Alastor’s arms.

Fists bang into the trunk over and over and over and over again, but the thick metal muffles his desperate attempts to escape. How curious of him to try and fight back. Does he not know how much energy he’s wasting?

“Now, now, you should be resting.” Alastor pulls on your arm, crashing you back into him. “Give it a few minutes. He’ll calm down, eventually. Panicked animals are such a bother to deal with.”

“Al . . .,” you mumble as you settle back into his arms, and grip part of his shirt into your fist. “Is it always this loud?”

“Sometimes.” Alastor resumes tracing your arm. “It doesn’t happen often enough for it to become a problem for me.”

The pull of home calls out, tempting you with the soft allure of warmth and peace . . . but . . . but, all the warmth and peace you could ever need is right here, next to you, tracing circles into your arm with a small smile. You’re already home.

If Alastor continues to lull you to sleep, maybe you wouldn’t mind living inside this car with him, and only him, despite the shitty seats – regardless of the shitty seats, actually.

Like all things, that frightened panic ends, and so does Alastor’s tracing.

Alastor peels you off his chest, and grips your shoulders. Eyes stare right into your own. It commands your gaze. “This is important, dearest. Stay in the car, and whatever may happen—you are not to follow me.” His grip tightens. “If I take too long, I need you to leave me.”

“That . . . that wasn’t our deal, Alastor,” you say, frowning. Something settles in your stomach. You don’t like this—not one bit. “We agreed I would be there to watch.”

“Now, now, stubbornness will get you nowhere.” Alastor pinches the bridge of his nose. “I allowed you to watch from the car— you watched as I drugged him, and watched as I stuffed him in the trunk. Be good, and promise me you will stay here.”

“Deare—”

Alastor places a finger on your lips, shushing you. That smile on his face makes you want to scowl. The absolute audacity!

“I’m not above putting my own wife inside a trunk,” he says, and flicks your nose. “It’s dark outside, and if I accidentally shoot you . . . well, it would be quite bothersome to have to bury you as well. Think about what the papers would say when you go missing!”

You slap his hand away. “Radio Star so Incompetent His Wife Leaves Him.”

“Hilarious.” Alastor rolls his eyes, showing off how he does so.

“I’ll stay up in the trees.” You play with the tips of his fingers. “Surely, your aim isn’t that horrid.”

“I’ll be running around and moving all over the place. You’re not familiar with this part of the forest.” Alasto presses a kiss on the edge of your lips. “I’ll return to you, but you need to stay here. Leave if you have to.”

One, single nod. It’s the only response you’re able to give.

Denying Alastor will never be an ability available to you, not when he’s looking at you with eyes that are oh, so soft.

Alastor tucks a stray strand of hair behind your ear, and steals one last kiss. “I won’t make you wait too long. That’s my promise to you.”

The car door opens with a click, and it’s not the icy air that chills your spine.

You . . . you don’t want him to go. It’s weird, actually. Why do you find yourself grabbing his hand? It stops Alastor before he can take a single step out of the car.

“Or, you can kill him right here. Shoot or slice him or whatever.” You squeeze his hand. There’s a nagging voice that tells you to keep him in your sight. “Just . . . just . . .”

Just what?

Alastor squeezes back. “That would spoil all the fun!” he says, but the car door closes anyway. He settles back into the chair, and his thumb goes up and down your skin. “I have to give him hope that there’s still a chance to fight back.”

What exactly do you want to happen? What exactly do you want to tell him?

Don’t go where I can’t follow.

“I don’t like this,” you say, instead. “Al, I don’t like this at all—not one bit.”

“Ha!” His laughter bounces across the air. “Dearest, are you worried for me?”

“Yes, I am.” You play with the ring around Alastor’s finger, and place a small kiss against the metal band. “Don’t be so surprised—of course, I’m worried.”

Alastor pulls back his hand, and it takes everything not to reach out for him.

Three taps —Tap. Tap. Tap. That’s all it takes, and your fist open automatically. Alastor drops his ring into your open palm. It’s clean and polished as if it’s regularly maintained.

Oh . . . oh, he’s giving back his ring.

“What’s going through that head of yours?”

“Hopefully, something foolish,” you say, trying to give him a smile.

“That’s impossible. There’s nothing foolish about you.” Alastor pulls your hand closer, and he slips his own ring around your finger. “Don’t give me that look— I want this back.”

Alastor’s ring is bigger than your finger. It’s a bit loose, but it won’t slip out easily.

“Then I’ll give it back.”

“What a silly and ridiculous wife to exist with.” Alastor boos your nose. “It’s quite exciting to learn you’re capable of such worry. I’m honored that it’s me you’re worried about.”

“I . . . I’m capable of worrying about you.”

Alastor pulls his jacket around your shoulders, wrapping it like a blanket. “This world could burn around you, and I don’t think you would care.”

“It’s cold outside. You need this more than I do.” You push the jacket towards him. “ . . . This is me, caring about you.”

Alastor presses a kiss on your cheek, and re-wraps the jacket around you. “Silly and ridiculous!”

The urge to stop him, to grab on to him and never let go . . . it never fully disappears. You keep your hands busy. It plays and twirls with the two rings around your finger.

The car door opens, and this time, Alasto steps out.

The faint smell from Alastor’s jacket warms you with the scent of home, and your eyes shut.

Time passes, and you don’t know how long it does. But the truth sinks its unforgiving claws into you; Alastor is taking too long.

Moonlight reflect against the rings around your finger, and the decision is made.

Alastor didn’t want you to freeze. It’s why he left his jacket to warm you. So, you put it on, wrapping it closer around your body. The car door opens, and warmth and peace and home guard you against the chill.

There’s a shovel at the back seats . . . It’s better than nothing.

“Alastor . . . Oh, my love,” you call out into the wind. “Don’t go where I cannot follow.”

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Alastor.

Alastor? Tell me what’s happening right now.

The grip around his neck tightens, and Alastor knows he made a mistake. That nostalgic tase of boyhood hits him. It’s in that paralyzing tune of helplessness. It’s in that choke-hold of fear. A familiar friend—one he hasn’t seen since before Alastor took his first victim.

It’s not supposed to be like this.

Alastor lost track of him between the trees and their shadows. It only took one, single second. A slight miscalculation that won’t be happening next time.

You would need to be alive for there to be a next time, love.

That . . . that’s your voice. This should be impossible, yet Alastor knows it’s you who’s calling out to him. You should have left hours ago—that was the agreement. Great, he’s going insane from the lack of oxygen. His brain conjured up your voice from the deepest parts of him. Of course, it would be you projected during his crazed attempts to breathe.

Alastor.

Tighter and tighter and tighter and tighter and tighter. It . . . just . . . never ends.

Spots flood his teary vision as everything grows dimmer. Alastor can barely see the man’s desperate expression. Such a shame, too. You would love to hear about his pathetic whines, and Alastor would love to describe it to you.

Alastor?

That was you calling out for him and only him. The way you say his name . . . It’s in that oh, so soft voice of yours. His eyes flicker towards the side, and through the tears, and through the spots, Alastor sees you as clear as day.

There's that small smile on your face as you squat next to him. Oh, my dear. You might actually die soon if you don’t do something about this.

Alastor can’t breathe. Oh god, he can’t breathe. Everything loses its color. It bleeds into one big blank of nothingness.

Alastor . . . Alastor?

It’s too dizzying. The desire to breathe burns his lungs. It begs for any mercy, for any relief, for any air. What can he do? Nothing. Just like when he was a child. Nothing has changed. No, that’s not true! Alastor didn’t have you before, and that simple face means everything is different. He reaches out for you, trying to say that he can’t brea—

Alastor, what’s your plan now?

There are no plants. There’s nothing . . . except you. Of course, it’s you. His brain is reverting back into its most basic of instincts, and it decided that you were his most basic instinct.

Well, what do you know?

Seconds—that’s how long Alastor has.

There are seconds of consciousness left. Precious second before he stops seeing you. Death wasn’t a problem – it’s never scared him before – but Alastor is a man of his word, and currently, he’s breaking the promise he made to you.

You’re rolling your eyes at him.

Alastor wants to summon the energy to tell you to stop it. Even in his mind you were infuriating, but . . . but, you’re smiling at him, and those eyes of your crinkl—

WHACK!

Air forces itself into his lungs in quick breaths. Alastor gasps for air, each breathing burns his lungs. The man crumples away from him, and those large hands leave his neck. That paralyzing tune of helplessness disappears.

You said you wouldn’t make me wait for too long.”

It’s . . . It’s you.

There’s a shovel raised above your head, coated in the man’s blood. Alastor stares at you—he stares at that eerily calm expression on your face. It travels up his spine with a chill, but it’s warmth that settles into his cheeks. It strikes him then and there. Alastor has never told you how beautiful you are in his eyes.

Just a second, that’s all he nee—

Alastor doesn’t have a second.

The man rises, clutching his head with fury written all over his expression. His eyes land on you, then the shovel, and the man charges in your direction with a bellow.

You bring the shovel closer towards your chest, eyes widen with frozen legs.

One, single step back – that’s all you’re able to take. Even then, it’s just not enough. The distance grows shorter, and every second Alastor spends gasping for air . . . It brings you a second closer to danger.

Alastor made a mistake, and this world will set ablaze with his fury, burning everything and everyone around him, if he allows this animal to touch even the smallest smile on your lips. It’s that precious to him, and that makes him dangerous.

Alastor stumbles across the mud, pushing himself past his highest limit for you and only you. Fire burns his lungs as air forces itself into his body. It spreads to the very tips of his finger, but Alastor cannot stop. There’s a reason to keep going. There’s a reason to keep running.

The man charges at you with speed, but Alastor has a reason to be faster.

Alastor tackles the man into the tree. A cry of pain rattles the leaves. He doesn’t know who it belongs to. It doesn’t matter, not to him, as long as it wasn’t from you.

What is he doing?

How . . . curious. The sweet tune of violent anger calls out, tempting him to give into his fury. Alastor’s never heard such a call before.

His fists go up and down and up and down and up and down. Each strike burns. The pain of split knuckles cannot stop him. All Alastor knows is that he needs to make this man suffer. Such violence should scare him, but he isn’t afraid – not one bit.

How dare this . . . this animal try to touch you. How dare he. How fucking dare he. Alastor will break every bone in his body, relishing in the cries of his screams. No, that wouldn’t be enough. Nothing Alastor could do will ever be enough to quell this burn. Not even death will be able to keep Alastor from—

“Alastor.”

The way you call out for him . . . the way you say his name in that oh, so soft voice of yours . . . It cuts through the burning haze. Not once has he ever had the ability to deny your calls for him.

Drip.

That’s blood dripping down his fingers. Each drop falls to the ground, and sinks into the earth below. It's funny, really. Alastor doesn’t know who the blood belongs to – it could be from his split knuckles or it could be from the man’s broken body.

What expression is he making right now? Alastor can’t bear to face you, not right now.

“Dearest,” you call out for him, and reach out a hand for him. “Come on, now.”

He takes a single step closer, and you mirror his movements. It’s like a funny little dance – the more steps he takes, the more steps you take – and this dance ends when you’re a breath away.

Alastor grabs your wrist, pulling you closer. “You were supposed to leave,” he says, and fuck! The tone of his voice automatically softens because . . . because you’re gripping on to him with fingers that tremble. “You’re not supposed to be here.”

This small part of him wishes he left you in that trunk. You were supposed to be in the car – safe.

The breathing part of him is thankful he didn’t. Who knows what would have happened to you if he died, and left his wife inside a car trunk. Oh, you would be furious at him! He would never hear the end of it.

Alastor takes the shovel from your shaking fingers, peeling it off your hold, and replacing it with his hand.

Despite that eerily calm look on your face, the way you tighten your grip tells him everything he needs to know – you’re more rattled than you’re willing to admit. Alastor traces your hand with the gentles of touches, sliding his fingers across your knuckles and into the back of your hand.

He brings your fingers to his lips, giving it the smallest of kisses. “I would appreciate an answer, my love.”

“You were taking too long,” you say, plain and simple. As if that would answer all his questions.

Those eyes of yours land on his knuckles. There’s no reason to hide them from you, especially when you’re looking at him with that sad, sad, expression he painted across your face. It’s in the way your lips wobble, and it’s in the way your eyebrows furrowed together.

“I would never leave you.” You press your cheek into his palm, nuzzling into it even as blood transfers to your skin. “Nothing will keep me from following after you.”

Alastor swipes his thumb across your face. “Even to the depths of hell?”

“Even past that, my dear.”

You bring out a handkerchief from your pocket. It’s simple work, really – automatic, even – to dab on his wound, and wrap his knuckles with the softest of touches. You press a light kiss on top of it as if doing so would make it feel better. (It does.)

The tips of your fingers reach out for him. It’s instinct for Alastor to bend down at your request, and you push his glasses up his nose, fixing it in place with a smile.

Alastor pulls you into a hug, cradling your head into the crook of his neck.

The way you were looking at him . . . with that oh, so soft smile on your lips. Oh, you were such a foul creature! A second longer, and all this anger would fizzle out. That wouldn’t do – there’s still a job that needs to be finished.

Still, Alastor holds you in his arms until your hands stop shaking, and that grip on him loosens.

“Thank you,” he says into your hair. “Go back to the car. I’ll meet you there in a couple of minutes. I just need to finish this.”

“Is that a promise, my dear?”

“If you’d like.” Alastor traces his rings across your fingers. “I’m still expecting you to return my ring to me.”

A small wheezing breath catches your attention.

You tilt your head towards the side, eyes locked onto the way the man struggles to breath. That shing of curiosity lights up your face. The edges of your lips quiver as you hold your smile, and there it is—the lust of wanting to know more, the lust of wanting to explore the entrail of this man.

“Al . . .” You’re tugging on his sleeve with an elated sigh. “Al!”

Alastor humors your curiosity, leaning down to study your expressions. How truly precious, indeed. “Yes, my dear?”

“Al, he’s a smoker!” you say with such a bright smile that can rival the stars themselves. “I saw him smoking before you drugged him.”

“Is this your way of saying you want me to smoke more, dearest?” Alastor presses a kiss on your cheek, right where that line of blood stains your skin “Maybe then you’ll always smile at me like this.”

“I want to see his lungs.” You’re tugging on his sleeve again with such a curious and innocent expression. “All that smoke . . . Oh, Al! I’m sure it’s done something to his lungs. You’ve never given me a smoker before – only alcoholics! I’ve already shown you their livers, right? I can show you his lungs.”

It’s almost . . . cute . . . to see you ramble on about livers. What a life he’s living! Married to the most ridiculous person in the world, who smiles so brightly when talking about a dead man’s liver.

“You have shown me all kinds of livers, my dear. My favorite is still the one with the black spots.” Alastor doesn’t really care about the different appearance of livers but you care for them . . . and that’s enough for him. “I’ve even made it a point to drink less.”

“I want to see his lungs.”

“This one isn’t worth your blade, dearest. I’ll find you another smoker. Maybe a smoker and an alcoholic, too. There are a dime a dozen.” Alastor takes a step towards you, blocking your view of the man. “Now, now. I think it’s time you go back to the car.”

“But Al— ”

“I won’t repeat myself a third time.” Alastor squeezes your hand. “I’ve indulged you for far too long.”

It’s clear that you’re disappointed—that bright smile doesn’t crinkle your eyes. “Alright,” you say, and squeeze back. “Much better?”

No, not at all. The smile on your face is meant to conceal a frown. How ridiculous of you to try and hide it from him. Did you not think that he wouldn’t know what a true smile from you looked like?

Alastor presses a kiss on your cheek, allowing it to linger. The next kiss goes on your forehead, then to your other cheek. He continues his barrage all over your face until your smile turns a little bit softer. Then, and only then, does he say, “Indeed.”

You walk towards the trees.

“Alastor.” You still for a moment, turning back to him. “Will he suffer?”

“My dear.” Alastor places a hand on his chest, and bows a performer’s bow. “I think you’re forgetting who exactly your husband is.”

There’s that gentle smile on your lips, and Alastor knows better than to mistake it for kindness. “That’s good.”

Oh, these eyes of his! It lingers on you until the trees hide you into their shadows, and even longer after that. Alastor runs his fingers across the handkerchief around his knuckles, tracing the music notes you’ve carefully embroidered. (Alastor knows a secret that you don’t seem to realize; you only embroider music notes when you’re thinking about him.)

Alastor turns back towards the man, laughing as he watches him try his best to crawl to freedom – it’s quite admirable. The attempt nearly succeeded if it wasn’t for his wife.

That’s good.

The way you said it . . . with such a gentle smile as well—it’s sickening. It also crawls up his stomach, and settles some kind of warmth in his face. Alastor brings the handkerchief to his cheek, pressing against it.

What a ridiculous person, indeed.

Alastor hums a small tune that’s carried by the night wind, and presses his foot on the man’s back, collapsing him to the dirt.

“That was a foolish mistake to make.” Alastor smiles at the handkerchief around his knuckles. If anyone was being foolish, it was him – his mistake drove you out of the safety of the car. “That goes for the both of us, I suppose.”

Alastor picks up the shovel, twirling it like a cane. It hits him, then and there; he doesn’t know the name of this man. It’s too late to ask, either way.

“Lucky for you, I promised not to take too long. Ha! But don’t worry, I won’t be leaving too soon.” Alastor aligns the tip of the shovel above the man’s knee. “Let’s take care of that nasty habit of running away. Do your best not to scream too loud! My wife has sensitive ears.”

The shovel goes down, and a scream rattles the birds.

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Alastor returns to the car, a bloodied mess.

It’s all over his dress-shirt, and it stains his vest red. Oh dear, some even got onto his favorite bowtie. His clothes would need to go up in flames. There’s no saving it. Except the bowtie – never the bowtie.

It’s cheap fabric, and something he shouldn’t even be seen wearing. Yet . . . Alastor always finds himself putting it on. He would never throw it away. Especially when you make so little, and buying this bowtie took quite a dent on your paycheck. It would take you months of saving just to buy him another one of equal quality, and even longer for something better.

So, Alastor keeps the bowtie.

He didn’t bother dragging the man back with him like he usually does, but he does leave him scattered around in pieces for the animals.

Oh dear!

Alastor must be quite the mess after taking a tumble. That’s mud staining his sleeves, and blood mixing with it as well. The smell must be horrid as well. He takes a moment, and runs a hand through his hair, trying to tame the stands that stick out. It doesn’t work. An irritated click on his tongue – he can’t go back to you looking like this!

Surely, you would . . . you . . . oh, you were worried for him.

It hits him all at once.

A small, giddy laugh warms him to the core. Alastor presses his face into his arm, hiding a smile that you couldn’t even see. Fuck! He runs another hand over his hair, and now, there’s now way he can go back to you looking like such a mess.

Alastor traces the music notes around the handkerchief once more. Another laugh – it’s louder this time, and it echoes across the trees.

Dear gosh, he needs to keep it together.

Alastor runs a hand over his face, calming his expression, and enters the car.

The moment he settles into the seat, you crash into him, clutching tightly even as the blood on his clothes transfers to you. “Home.”

Alastor wants to say something rather silly. With you here . . . well, he’s already home.

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What are we thinking, people? I still got my writing chops. Alaso, this chapter is supposed to be one big chapter titled Between the Glimpse and The Last because it's between parts 5 and 6 ( |Part 5: Glimpse of Me and You: Part II| and |Part 6: Radio’s Last Broadcast|) Next chapter will be a continuation of this scene. WHERE MORE FLUFF WILL HAPPEN. So if you've liked this, follow along. I'm not done with the Hurt/Comfort. Emphasis on Comfort. Maybe a little bit more hurt as well because this is almost right before 1933

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