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thatredheadwriter · 3 years ago

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On the Mat

Marc Spector x reader

You’re Marc and Steven’s ‘guy in the chair’ for lack of a better term, helping them with all things techy. When you get injured trying to help on a mission, Marc decides you need to learn how to take care of yourself so it doesn’t happen again. Gym training with Marc turns into something else entirely.

(A/N: Y’all, I actually BLUSHED while writing some of the dirty talk. Personally, I think it’s pretty steamy. Let me know what you think with a comment or a reblog!)

This is an NSFW oneshot for female reader with Marc Spector of the show Moon Knight. This work contains smut and mature language and should not be read by those under 18 (or the age of majority in your locale). As a writer, I will attempt to make accurate warnings for each of my fics, however I cannot guarantee that I will identify each and every sensitive topic. My works regularly contain swearing, allusions to/mentions of sex, and canon level violence.

Warnings Include (but are not limited to):

Swearing

Injury to reader (canon-level, nothing too bad)

Mild angst

Stitches

Marc is a cocky asshole

combat/fight training

Teasing/degradation (it’s not supposed to be sexual at first, but it is)

Oops, my Praise Kink is showing

DIRTY TALK

Fingering

Oral (female receiving)

P in V penetrative sex (protected)

Choking

Hair pulling

Please read at your own discretion and consume your fanfiction responsibly.

“I’m fine, I’m fine,” you slapped at Marc’s hands that prodded your eyebrow.

“You’re not fine, (y/n), you need stitches,” he slapped your own hand away and continued examining the wound. The blood had stopped, mostly, and was beginning to dry down the side of your face.

“So then stitch me up, I’ve seen you do your own a million times.”

He shook his head, “I should take you to a hospital.”

“God, no, I hate hospitals, Marc. I’d rather die. Please, can you do it?” you begged, pouting a bit. Although he pretended to dislike you, you knew it was a facade.

“I don’t have any anesthetic, and the scar won’t be pretty,” he warned, gathering his first aid supplies and straddling a chair across from you.

“Fine, then I’ll look like a mysterious badass. You pull it off well enough,” you smirked.

“You know, this isn’t funny. He nearly took your eye out.”

You hissed as he dabbed at the cut with an alcohol-soaked cotton ball, “The bad guy got a lucky shot in is all.”

“He would have killed you if I hadn’t shown up. There’s nothing lucky about that,” his gaze was focused on your eyebrow, but the intensity of it made you want to squirm.

“I disagree. I’m very lucky to have you to save my ass all the time.”

“Can you please stop joking? You almost died today, very stupidly I might add.”

You rolled your eyes, but Marc placed a hand on top of your head to keep you still as he raised the threaded needle.

“Don’t move,” he whispered. A sharp pain pricked at your temple and you fought the urge to wince, instead just shutting your eyes and trying to breathe. The two of you stopped fighting as he worked, carefully sewing in eight stitches from your left temple to the top of your eyebrow.

“You did the impossible today, you know,” he said as he dabbed at the now-sealed cut on your face with more alcohol.

“What’s that?”

“You got me and Steven to actually agree on something.”

You giggled at that, “And how did I do that?”

“He’s been saying for a while now that it’s too dangerous for you to be in the field, and after today, I have to agree.”

“Oh, please, like you could have stopped me from being on that roof.”

He tossed the used supplies in the trash. “I know. Which is why tomorrow, we start your training.”

“Training?”

“I’m going to teach you how to fight since you’re no good at staying out of them.”

“Why not start now?” you asked, hopping up from your seat.

“No, you need to rest now. And don’t think I’m gonna go easy on you, cause I’m not.”

“Ok, Mr. Badass Mercenary, whatever.”

Oof

The breath left your body as Marc slammed you into the mat once again before standing up and offering you a hand. You took it but glared at him angrily.

“Is this fun for you? It seems fun for you,” you frowned, dusting off your ass once more as Marc circled you.

“I told you I wouldn’t go easy on you, and neither will the bad guys. So really I’m doing you a favor,” he smirked, enjoying having you inside his area of expertise now.

“Oh fuck you, Spector,” you sneered, making your way to the side of the mat where you’d set your water bottle. “Try telling that to my tailbone.”

“You’ll be fine,” he scoffed. “Ready to go again?”

“No, I’m not! Because you keep fucking just attacking me and saying very cryptic, unhelpful shit. This sucks and I’m not learning at all. You’re an awful teacher and I hate training,” you huffed.

“Ok, ok,” Marc threw his hands up. “Let’s go over to the heavy bag, I’ll teach you a few things.”

You sighed heavily and trudged over to the corner where Marc had fixed the second hand gym equipment. You had a feeling not all of the new equipment he’d obtained was exactly for sale when he got it.

“So what, I just hit it right?” you hit the bag lazily.

“Not like that.”

“Okay, then, Mr. Moon Knight, how do you want me to hit the bag?”

“Actually, Steven’s Mr. Knight, I’m Moon- Whatever, it doesn’t matter. Look, you’ve got to set your stance, frame your arms, hit with a locked wrist, and follow through. Think you can do that?”

You rolled your eyes, “I think I’ll manage.”

You ran through the checklist in your head, and struck out at the bag hard, but it barely seemed to shudder.

“Here, watch me,” Marc move you aside and took his stance next to the bag and hit it several times in rapid succession, sending it swinging back and forth on its chains.

“Show off.”

“Here, let me show you the form,” he beckoned you over. What you did not expect was for him to place his hands on your bare waist.

His foot kicked at your right ankle, nudging it forward and out a bit, before moving your left one back.

Marc’s hands slid up your body and up to your shoulders, setting them in position before moving down each of your arms and putting your hands in a proper defensive position in front of you.

“You want to hit with your knuckles, make contact with the first two here,” he tapped over your wrapped hands, indicating the places he was talking about. “Lock your wrist and deliver the energy straight through. Imagine your target is behind the bag.”

You took a deep breath, and punched the bag again. It felt better, but you nearly fell over and lost your balance. You likely would have ended up in the floor if it wasn’t for Marc’s hands flying to your waist and steadying your center of gravity.

“Better, but you’ve gotta stay loose. Put your weight on the balls of your feet and bend your knees a little. Yeah, that’s good,” his hands left you once again, but he stayed close as you followed his instructions. “Tighten your core. Yep, good. Now you’re going to hit again, but this time, engage every muscle in your body. Imagine the power coming all the way down from your thighs.”

This time you looked at the bag and imagined the face of the asshole who nearly killed you yesterday and hit hard.

“Good girl,” Marc praised, sending a shiver down your spine. “You learn fast.”

“Thanks,” you said meekly, hoping he wouldn’t notice how flustered you’d become.

“Now that you really know how to punch let’s go back to the mat, see if you can actually manage to hit me,” he taunted.

You were determined now more than ever to finally land a blow on Marc Spector. Of course, you didn’t actually want to hurt him. But if you could trade blows with him, knock him down or stun him even a little, you’d finally feel like you could do something to protect yourself.

The problem was he was a slippery bastard.

He moved faster than you could plan for, so as soon as you struck out at where he was, he was somewhere else, wearing a shit eating grin and taunting you to continue.

“Come on, (y/n),” he’d say, after dancing away from another nowhere-near miss. “Can’t you even hit me once.”

“Aw, can’t you do it?”

“And I’m your friend, I imagine your enemies will have an easy enough time taking you out.”

“You’re pathetic, it’s been thirty minutes and you’re not even close.”

Finally you let out a scream, lunging at him and missing again, only to land on the mat hard.

Tears pricked in the corner of your eyes as you swallowed the lump in your throat and rolled onto your ass. Marc was laughing at your feeble attempt to tackle him. You pulled your knees to your chest and rested your chin on top of them, staring at the floor.

“Alright, you’ve had your rest. Come on, we’re not done until you’ve tagged me at least once. And by the looks of it, we may be here all night.”

You couldn’t take it anymore.

“God! Why are you so fucking mean, Marc?” you yelled, shocking your trainer whose teasing smile quickly faded from his face. A few stray tears made their way down your face as you sniffled and pushed yourself up off the ground.

“(y/n), I’m sorry. I’m just trying to help,” he tried to close some distance, but you backed away.

“How? By making me feel like shit, huh? Telling me that I suck, making me feel like a failure?” you cried.

Marc ran a hand down his face, “God, no. I was just trying to motivate you. I didn’t realize…I wanted you to want to hurt me.”

“Well, jokes on you, asshole. It didn’t work,” your lower lip trembled as you spoke and you couldn’t help but feel like an idiot.

“I see that, and I’m sorry. Please, (y/n), forgive me?”

You looked at him and rolled your eyes. He was too handsome to stay mad at for long and he knew it.

“Fine, but you have to do something for me.”

“What?”

“Well, I guess your shitty ass motivation kinda did work because now I really do want to hit you.”

He furrowed his brow, not following. “Okay, so-”

“Okay, so I’m going to punch you. And you’re going to stand still and let me.”

Marc scoffed, “And if I don’t?”

“I guess maybe I won’t be feeling so forgiving. Maybe I’ll just wipe every electronic device you have and replace all of the files with that one song you hate so much.”

“You wouldn’t.”

You smirked evilly, “All your files, replaced with ‘What Does the Fox Say?’ or you let me hit you once and we call it a night, yeah?”

Marc swore under his breath before moving to the center of the mat. His arms dropped by his sides and he sighed, “Ok, come get it.”

You were far too giddy as you moved into position and adopted your stance in front of him, giggling at the bored expression on his face.

You weren’t expecting the thud that came with punching a person with all your might. Your fist hit him square in the chest and you seemed to do a pretty good job knocking the wind out of him. But you didn’t get much time to celebrate.

He grabbed your wrist and flipped you. In a flash you were pinned to the ground, Marc’s hands holding each of your wrists by your head and his body perched comfortably atop yours. His chain had fallen outside his shirt and now dangled in front of you.

“Good girl, that was a solid hit,” he praised, tossing his head to get a loose curl out of his face. “But you’ve gotta be ready for the next attack.”

“Thought you were going to let me hit you,” you whispered, unable to manage anything else in such close proximity to the man whom you’d secretly lusted after for months.

“I said you could hit me, I never said I wouldn’t retaliate,” he said growled.

You couldn’t help but whimper at the sound, and you squirmed underneath him. His grip on your wrists tightened harshly. Your hips bucked up against him and he growled once more.

“You better stop doing that, princess,” he warned. You looked down to where his body trapped yours and gasped when you saw a bulge forming in his gray training pants. Your head snapped back to meet his eyes once again, and although his face was still hard, his eyes had softened.

“If you don’t want to do this, tell me now,” he urged. “Tell me now and I’ll stop and we can pretend this never happened.”

Instead of answering with words, you decided to let your body do the talking. You used the little bit of space you had to roll your hips up against him. A deep groan emanated from his chest and his eyes rolled back a bit. Nibbling on your bottom lip, you looked up at him innocently through your eyelashes.

“Fuck.”

You half-absorbed the curse as his lips crashed down on yours. He was urgent, on a mission. The kiss was sloppy and needy and hot. Your teeth clashed and your tongues fought for dominance. It was a short fight, you conceded quickly, allowing him to explore your mouth freely.

While he distracted you with his tongue, he was working your body, maneuvering you just to his liking. When he finally pulled away and allowed you to catch your breath through swollen lips, you realized your hands were now above your head, wrists pinned in one of Marc’s large hands.

His position above you had changed as well. Instead of straddling your waist, he now sat over one of your thighs, knee in between your legs. You gasped as he shifted it up a bit, pressing it against your clothed center. Your body reacted instantly, grinding against it and searching for any form of friction it could find.

“You’re a needy little thing, aren’t you,” he teased, watching you squirm.

“Please, Marc,” you begged, pouting a bit for emphasis.

“Please what, baby? Gonna have to be more specific than that.”

“Just please touch me, or let me touch you, or…fuck I don’t know. I need more!” you whined.

Marc raised an eyebrow at that, “That wasn’t a very nice way to say that, was it babygirl?”

You shook your head no.

“I bet a pretty girl like you can find lots of nice words to use for me. That is unless the mere thought of me fucking you senseless has got you so cockdrunk you can’t even think straight,” he cocked his head, waiting for your answer.

“Please, Marc. Please, I need to feel you. I’ll be good, just please touch me,” you pleaded, locking eyes with him.

“Yeah, you will. Gonna be my good fucking girl,” he smiled, releasing your wrists.

Your hands flew to his shoulders and dug into the cloth and flesh there as he pulled you in for another bruising kiss. With his hands now unoccupied, one held him up from crushing you while the other mapped your body.

He roughly squeezed your breast through the fabric of your sports bra and identified the nipple underneath, pinching and rolling it in his large fingers. You moaned into his mouth.

Soon his hand was traversing lower, eventually coming to cup your sex over the spandex shorts you wore. He could feel the heat building there and it made his cock throb.

“You want me to take these off?”

You nodded, but he only shook his head and chuckled.

“You’re going to have to use your words, baby girl,” he teased, running his hand up and down the inside of your thigh.

“Please,” you whimpered.

“Please what?”

“Take ‘em off, please,” you urged, bucking your hips up against his hands. He grinned at your eagerness.

“Well, since you asked so nicely,” he hooked his fingers in the waistband of your shorts and pulled them down your legs, along with your panties, with you lifting your hips just enough to help him get them down around your ass. He tossed the fabric to the side somewhere and worked his way down your body so he was eye-level with your glistening cunt.

“Is all this for me, baby?”

You sat up on your elbows so you could see his face as he took his index finger and ran it up over your hole and up to your clit, making you sigh loudly. Your noises seemed to really do it for Marc, as he quickly abandoned his teasing approach and dove in head first, literally.

One finger plunged deep into your cunt while his tongue lapped at the arousal that had gathered between your folds. Your hands clenched into fists and you swore if it weren’t for the hand wraps, your palms would have been bleeding. It was only the taste of copper that made you realize you were biting down on your lip, although it wasn’t doing much to stifle the pitiful whimpers and squeaks coming from your chest.

But then he pulled away, making you whine.

“Was close,” you whimpered pitifully. He mocked your pouty face as he sat up and pulled his t-shirt over his head, revealing his stunning torso.

You didn’t get long to admire it before Marc was on you again, kissing your neck and marking you with his teeth. His hands ran up your sides and slipped up under the fabric of your bra. You sat up all the way, with some effort, given that he was pressing you down, and raised your arms over your head, allowing him to pull off the restrictive fabric and toss it aside to join your discarded shorts and panties.

“I’ve dreamed about these tits, you know. Did you think I didn’t notice when you started wearing those fucking low-cut tops? I nearly came in my pants the first time I saw you in a bra.”

His rough hands came down to palm your breasts, squeezing and kneading the sensitive flesh there before pinching and rolling your nipples hard, pulling them up and away from your chest. Animalistic grunts and groans tumbled out of your lips as he worked, worshipping your chest.

“Please, no more teasing. Need your cock,” you whined, your hips rutting up into the air and searching for some friction.

“Yeah, you’re sure? You’re sure you need it?”

“Please,” you pouted, hands reaching down to palm his bulge through his pants. He hissed in response, making you grin.

Marc didn’t need any more convincing. One hand reached into his pants and freed his cock, which sprang against his hard abdomen in excitement. The tip was flushed and swollen and a bead of precum was springing free at the tip.

“Fuck,” you groaned. He was big, bigger than you expected. But it made sense, you supposed, given how perfect the rest of him was.

Marc reached over as far as he could, his hand disappearing into the pocket of his gym bag, and coming out holding a distinctive shiny wrapper. You watched, entranced, as he tore open the foil packet and rolled the condom down his impressive length. You couldn’t help but appreciate the fact that he was prepared for something like this.

“You’re sure you want this?” Marc asked, pumping himself a couple of times before lining up with your entrance.

“Yes, I really, really do. What about…what about Steven? I mean he’s kinda along for the ride, isn’t he? Is he okay with this?”

Marc surprised you, barking a laugh. “Steven? He’s more than okay with this. He stares at your ass even more than I do.”

The thought made your face flame, but was it really so embarrassing given that you were laid out in front of him, getting ready to be split apart on his cock?

Marc leaned over you pressing a kiss to your collarbone. “If you want me to stop, tell me.”

You nodded quickly, and then your eyes were squeezed shut as he entered you for the first time. Once he was fully sheathed inside you, touching parts you didn’t know you had, he stopped for a second. The room was silent except for the sounds of your breathing.

“Fuck, you’re squeezing me so tight,” he swore.

“Just shut up and fuck me, Marc,” you groaned, your hands scrambling to grab whatever bit of him you could, eventually settling around his neck, tangling in the short hair there.

He laughed as he pulled almost all the way out before slamming back in, hard. Marc set an unforgiving pace, leaving you fucked out and speechless almost instantly.

“There are those ugly words again sweetheart,” he tutted. One of his hands trailed up from your breast to grab your chin before slipping two fingers past your swollen lips. His heavy fingers pressed down on your tongue and forced open your jaw,

Never in a million years had you imagined you’d be lying bare in a gym being fucked silly by Marc Spector with his fingers in your mouth. It was so filthy and carnal and the mental image of it made your cunt clench.

“God,” he swore, “You like that? Like having my fingers in your mouth?”

You nodded as much as your current position would allow, not that you could have even formed words if you wanted to. Every drag of his cock along your sensitive walls had you seeing stars.

“Are you going to cum for me?” he asked, pulling his hand from your mouth and going back to torturing your nipple.

“Please…need…” you panted, trying to tell him, but your mind was already so far gone.

But Marc knew.

“Need me to rub your clit, pretty girl?”

You nodded furiously and one of his hands moved to rest over your hip. His thumb reached down and worked rapid, hard circles on your clit.

“Come on, cum for me, baby,” he urged.

Your hands flew to his wrist and tugged, pulling it upwards. He was close to his own release, but he slowed a bit as his brow furrowed.

“What do you need?”

“Choke me,” you breathed.

His eyes widened almost comically and if you hadn’t been seconds away from cumming, you would have laughed. He watched in fascination as he let you guide his hand up to your throat, his large hand easily fitting around it.

Marc had choked partners before, but to do it with you was something else. He looked deep into your eyes as he applied just the right amount of pressure to the sides of your neck, effectively reducing blood flow to your brain.

All the sensations combined in an explosion of ecstasy as your orgasm hit you like a freight train. Your hands tightened around Marc’s forearm and your fingernails left tiny crescents in the flesh.

A high, broken sob was the only thing that punctuated the wet sounds of skin on skin. Marc released his hold on your throat, but left his hand in place while the hand that had been pleasuring your clit now gripped your hip harshly. He was fucking into you with all he had, low grunts and curses falling from his lips like prayers.

As you lay there in complete bliss, your hands returned to his dark curls once more and fisted them hard. Your tired cunt clenched around him one last time and his head dropped to your chest as he filled the condom with his release. His hips stuttered as he worked through his high and finally he came to a rest deep inside you.

“You did so good for me,” he praised, lifting his sweaty forehead from your skin, reaching a thumb up to wipe a tear away you hadn’t even realized had slipped out. “My pretty girl,” he praised.

“Yeah?” you asked, leaning into his touch.

“Yeah,” he confirmed. “M’sorry for earlier. I just worry about my girl, you know?”

You nodded sleepily.

“Let’s get you cleaned up, okay? Come on,” he pulled away from you, making you whine at the loss of contact. Your folds were sensitive as he slipped out,

“Hey, Marc?” you asked as he helped you up and started leading you towards the bathroom.

“Yeah?”

“You know how I said I hate training?”

He grinned, “Mm-hmm.”

“If that’s how training’s going to end, I so don’t hate training.”

thatredheadwriter’s Masterlist

#moon knight #not a spoiler #marc spector smut #marc spector #steven grant #steven grant smut #moon knight smut #moon knight imagine #dom!marc spector #dom!marc spector x reader #dom!marc spector x sub!reader #marc spector x reader #marc spector x reader smut #filth #smutty smut smut #moon knight oneshot #marc spector oneshot #marc spector imagine

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hes-writer · 4 years ago

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Patreon Masterlist

These are exclusive fics that you can read on my Patreon!

* = complete, ^ = in-progress, + = will be posted on tumblr, (s) = smut (implied or mentioned) writing count: 78 pieces

**billing cycle currently paused** | new patrons will still be charged

This is a reupload of my masterlist with sneak peeks of each piece so you know what's up :D

Multi-Part Series | One Shots | Drabbles | Extras

* Unwavering (1) (2) (3) (4) (5) (6) (7) - 6.5k, the one where harry cheats (again)

"Right. Maybe we can go out tonight to grab some dinner," She suggested, a hopeful glint in her eyes and he almost felt guilty for putting her on the back burner of his mind. "I really have to go, baby," Peeking his head around her frame, he spotted the untouched toast and apple juice resting on where he should be. "I'm sorry."

^ + Roommate Series (3) (4) (5) (6) - 9.8k, the one where harry and y/n are roommates

He sighed, “I finished my coffee ages ago. I was just waiting for you to finish studying so we could leave together and go home,” Y/N dropped her fingers from his wrist, slouching the slightest bit as butterflies attacked her stomach. “Don’t look at me like that. I just wanted you to get home safe,” He nudged her forehead with the ball of his palm, his face contorting to annoyance.

^ + Notes on Camp (1) (2) (3) (4) (5) (6) (7) (8) - 16.5k, the one where harry and y/n are camp counsellors

Y/N looked around to be met with puckered lips and clenched hands as the campers practically requested for her to kiss their favourite counsellor. Wide, hopeful stares were willing her to commit.

“Alright, alright,” She bent her upper body to reach his cheek, licking over her lips once before pressing it on his skin. It was only a quick peck and then she pulled back. He stayed unmoving.

Jacky and Emy poked their finger at him on opposite sides. His cheek dimpling with their small indents. “Maybe you should do it again?”

* Friends Don't (1) (2) (3)- 3k, the one where lines are crossed

“It’s Harry Styles fanfiction on Tumblr,” She suggested a conversation, shyly smiling in embarrassment. “I can see that,” He murmured, using his thumb to scroll through the rest of the story, “It’s . . . interesting. People write these about me?” His retort made the situation seem like an utter surprise.

* Digress, Progress, Regress Series - 5k, the one where harry falls out of love

Y/N wondered if there was a chance to fixing what has been lost--what has disappeared as the canvas soaked through in a permeated osmosis. Coating the brush of blue with white paint took several layers to completely cover the mistakes. There had to be an effort in wanting to make the faults and errors completely opaque from the eye; the bleary, watery irises soaked with tears, dampening her lashes in a thick haze as she cried.

Tickle Fights (1) - 1.2k, the one where bff!y/n teases harry about his boner

“What’s going on here, Harry?” The light tone of her voice indicated that she was teasing him, paired with the subtle movements of her lower half. Harry whined in response, feeling the blood rush downwards to make him even stiffer. “Does this feel good? Got hard over me straddling you, huh?” It was almost degrading, the way Y/N formed her question yet Harry couldn’t help a whimper from lingering in the air. He nodded, hands sliding down to grip at her moving hips.

Real Mature (1) (2) - part two is patron exclusive! - 603 words, the one where bff!harry and y/!n fight

“You shouldn’t have. I’m sorry for being bitter about you and Ruby,” She rested her forearms on his shoulders in a slant when he stood to his full height. “I know you’re happy with her,” Harry gave her a shy smile that confirmed his words. Ruby is someone special to Harry now and Y/N had to learn how to share his time, attention, and affection. “I reckon I’m just missing you a lot more now,” Y/N’s tone was sad and despondent, trailing her gaze to the floor where she almost chuckled at Harry’s fuzzy bunny slippers which she had gotten him.

^ Fine Line Series: Adore You - 1.1k the one where harry and y/n are friends with benefits

Still, with her back against the wall and Harry’s fingers still gripping her hips—she waited for his response. I told you I loved you. Say it back, Y/N thought. “I love her, Y/N,” He mumbled against her neck in a drunken stupor. So close.

Kinkmas Blurbs (1 - 7) - 4.6k, the one where it’s all smutty

Maybe it was the way that his jaw ticked harshly every time he threw his head back at a particularly good stroke. You wondered what he was imagining that had him bucking his hips to his fist before realizing that the movements would probably cause you to wake up. Still, his hooded lids didn’t peel open—not until a core shaking fondle of his heavy balls forced a choked whine out of his throat.

Harry’s neck snapped to your figure, catching the way you looked at him as if you were in distress that he wasn’t cumming anytime soon—not when you were there, willing and able to help.

“Fuck, love. ‘M sorry,” He mumbled, not stopping the flicks of his wrist. In fact, you swore that you could hear the squelching of his clear pre-cum squishing between his fingers.

The Secretary (1) (2) (3) (4) (5) 11k, the one where harry is the CEO and y/n is the assistant (cheating fic)

Two months ago, Y/N unburied a not-so-hidden secret that Harry tried to bury. Two months ago, Y/N walked in on her boyfriend and his secretary fucking on his office table. Two months ago, Y/N experienced everything from pain and discomfort, to disappointment and being scornful. She threaded the line of confronting him or waiting for the day he came forward and admitted it himself. There was a desire for Y/N to see Harry sweat beneath her beady eyes, watching him scratch the back of his pants in a nervous manner. She wanted to hear him stutter as he spat an excuse, she yearned to see him pleading with his gorgeous green eyes for her to stay. Y/N craved for his throat to close up, whimpers choked from his trachea because he was losing his stability as she walked away from him.

(s) Tension (1) (2) - 5.3k, the one where harry and y/n hate each other

“S’that why you hate me so much?”

His fingertips tapped his thigh methodically, crumpling a faint thud against his jeans. With how close they were sitting, Y/N’s bare knee brushed against his clothing. A burn of desire and anticipation lit inside of her like a dose of gasoline another in a flaming hot fire.

Harry shook his head, “Don’t hate you."

Champagne Problems- 4.4k, the one where marriage is a sensitive topic, the 1 - coming soon!

The freshly popped bottle of champagne poured into the flute on the table beside her bubbled and simmered, the sizzling reaction of the golden liquid ignited a moment of realization within her. The reason why her body felt more weighted, why tears filled her glazed eyes, pricking her corneas and threatening to spill down her face. Y/N’s heart had cracked–she was certain that everybody around her could hear it.

One Shot

(s) Achy Back - 813 words, the one where harry draws y/n a bath

A pout sat on her face as Harry stopped himself from ducking his head and catching her plush lips with his, craving the sweet taste of her and her strawberry lip balm. Her arms wrapped around his snatched waist, halting his breath at the tightness of her embrace and settling for a kiss on her forehead, the scent of her shampoo wafting in his nostrils, knowing that she had taken shower hours prior.

A Letter to the Man I’ve Loved - 1.5k, the one where harry receives a letter from his ex

Is it really worth it to look back in retrospect about ‘what had been’ when she can think about ‘what could have been’ if both of them realized their faults? Granted, he was more resilient in that sense than her, but he was no better at the time. She made mistakes and it had haunted her to this day, practically killing her with each moment she spent without him by her side.

Renegade - 981 words, the one where harry and y/n do a tiktok dance

“What are y’doing?” Harry asked, his eyes wide as his large palms ruffled the fluffy towel on his damp curls. The steam from the bathroom escaped to your bedroom where you were panting with effort, your chest heaving so hard that the peaks of your breasts rose with each breath.

“Uh, what are you doing?” You retorted slowly, hiding your hands behind your back were your fingers gripped your phone. Your thumb dug hard on the volume bottom, frantically trying to decrease the music from the phone speaker.

(s) Drop the Towel - 644 words, the one where harry does the ‘drop the towel’ challenge

You gasped at the sight, the knife clanging on the marble counter, “Ooh, hi there,”

He smirked cockily, watching your eyes observe his body, tongue subconsciously peeking out between your lips until you snapped your head to the window, “Oh my god! There are people out there, Harry!” You wailed in alarm, bending over to hand him his towel.

All I Ask - 2.2k, the one where feelings aren’t mutual

“I don’t want to be scared of what will happen tomorrow or if all we have is right now because we’ll have nothing left but I am,” A sob ripped through his throat, emotions were heightened tenfold because she was so close yet so far and they were still Harry and Y/N but at the same time they weren’t. They’ve changed over the span of one night. “All we have is tonight,”

Little Prince - 583 words, the one where 7-year-old harry takes care of his best friend

“Y/N? Y/N! Are you okay? I’m so so sorry, I didn’t mean for that to happen. I swear I wasn’t mad at you, I was just jok- Why are you smiling?” Harry yelped, panic evident in his shrill voice. His hands wandered towards her face, tilting it left to right, up and down, searching for any visible and invisible injuries besides the bump on her forehead.

Stressed Out - 1.8k, the one where y/n has a huge term paper due

“What d’ya mean I don’t get it?” He closed the paperback, making sure to clip in his bookmark to save his spot.

A pregnant pause slithered the room. Her fingers typing against the keys of her laptop ceased as she shot him a glare, “You’re not studying, are you? All you do is write songs, fiddle with a few instruments and sing it in front of people who adore you,”

Valentine’s Day - 1.5k, the one where harry runs into trouble and y/n is there to save him

“Shit! Are you crazy?” Y/N gasped in surprise when the passengers seat was occupied, the door opening and slamming shut all while the car moved at a speed of 15 km/h —cursing her forgetfulness for not clicking the locks shut.

“Keep driving!” The passenger shouted, looking back through the windshield.

Dream With Me - 1.3k, the one where y/n has trouble sleeping

Harry’s admiration gets interrupted when a sudden jolt took over Y/N’s body. He dropped his mouth open a little in shock, rubbing her back soothingly when she whimpered quietly, “Shh, it’s okay. You’re safe with me,” She must have had experienced one of those moments when she was falling until her vision drooped to a shaded black.

Pet Name - 1.2k, the one where bff!harry just wants y/n to call him by his pet name again

His voice emulated a soft, syrupy tone that lingered in the air whenever he spoke. He was the colour honey itself–golden and yellow like the colour of the sun. Harry was bright in its sense of intelligence and the way he illuminated the whichever room he entered. His kindness catered to everyone’s needs and left pieces of his heart wherever he went.

Harry was honey.

Shave - 768 words, the one where harry helps y/n shave her coochie

She sniffles some more, “I’m trying to shave, H. It’s so itchy but I-I can’t reach down there,”

Y/N began to sob. The rattle of the razor clanking on the bathtub floor where she sat her bum on the edge. Her baby bump was causing her to teeter over the porcelain which urged Harry to swiftly plant his hands on her to keep her steady.

“I’m so huge! I’m the size of a house,” Y/N palmed the crest of her bump, rubbing it loosely as she admired the stretched skin yet slightly wishing that it would disappear and she was holding their baby in her arms instead.

(s) Don’t Worry, Darling - 1.5k, the one where y/n rides harry

He slipped down the headboard, resting his back flat on the mattress with Y/N sliding with him. She positioned her feet to rest near his knees, wrapping their limbs together so she could have some sort of sanity whilst Harry incepted on his shattering thrusts. Feet were planted on the mattress to give his lower half elevation to propel his hips against Y/N’s core. Harry’s fingers left white marks on her skin, gripping the plush flesh and essentially spreading Y/N open as he rapidly shoved his dick over and over inside of her with no signs of slowing down. He staggered for a few moments when her pulsing core emitted dazing throbs over his leaking cock but Y/N was quick to duplicate and resume the pace he had set with the movement of her hips.

To Be Loved - 2.3k, the one where y/n’s feelings are more than friendly

“I love you. Don’t you love me back?”

Harry’s eyes visibly widened, clearly taken aback by the question spewing from Y/N’s mouth. Her heat cheeks and a shy stance; knees knocking against his knobby ones while her dainty hands interlaced her fingers.

Revelation - 2.1k, the one where famous!y/n and harry are spotted together (pre-relationship)

Before there were Harry and Y/N--the power couple--there was Harry and Y/N.

Y/N, who was one of the most sought after female artists in the industry because of her angelic voice. The woman who had managed to catch the lingering stares of every household and the ears of many listeners with her truthful songs; narrative from the experiences she had gone through and shared through the art of songwriting.

Harry, who was quite the artist for the night. Harry’s limbs were being pulled metaphorically every which to ensure that the cameras captured him clapping respectfully in the audience. Others were asking him to stay for a bit more time backstage for content for an upcoming video. Right now, he was sat in his uncomfortable chair beside a handful of producers and well-known singers. A brief hug and whisper with Ariana Grande were enough for their fans to implode about a possible collaboration, granted that Harry had written a song for her album before. But Harry was certain that that feature wasn’t coming for a long while.

Apple Cheeks - 1.1k, the one where harry says something and y/n isn’t listening

Clearing his throat, he began, “I love you, Y/N. And I know that it might be too soon considering how short our relationship has been so far but I-I really do have strong feelings for you,”

Harry dropped his gaze as soon as he managed to peel off the first three words from his hoarse throat. “You don’t have to say it back. I just wanted to let you know that I really care for you and me. I definitely something for us in the future and I hope you feel the same,”

Dreadful seconds shivered up Harry’s spine. His stare was still fixed on her shuffling feet and the floor. It was painful to hear nothing but silence so Harry decided to courageously lift his head up.

Affliction - 1.5k, the one where Harry breaks down (TW: depressive thoughts)

It wasn’t even that Harry did not know how to say ‘no’ because he truly did. However, anyone would be worn-out by the amount of exhaustion carried on his back. That cold shudder of loneliness--even when he wasn’t alone-- because nobody shared the experience of defeat with him. The twitch of his ears straining to listen when nobody would do the same for him. A subtle jerk of the corners of his lips because he could not keep the smile plastered on his face like paint chipping off the drywalls. The flutter of tired lids waiting to be shut tightly as tears were wrung from his green eyes, lashes tickling his skin underneath the violent colour of his eye bags.

From the Dining Table - 748 words, the one where y/n’s new boyfriend looks a lot like harry

Y/N wondered if her former lover shared the same thoughts as she did. The girl that he woke next to—was she still there? Did they share the bed together—not just in the morning—but the nights as well? If so, did Harry love her like he did with Y/N? Or was he just pretending to be okay like she was?

Blanket for Two - 990 words, the one where y/n kicks harry out of bed

And now, Harry was in bed with the woman he loves. Her light snores echoing in the dim room and he was staring up at the ceiling, shivering in his bones. If she were awake, Y/N probably would have made a snide, joking comment about how he shouldn’t sleep naked, especially in the winter. Not like she didn’t do that either--she was practically naked with the thin camisole over her body. The difference was that Y/N had an extra layer of blanket keeping her warm, shielding her skin from the night air and Harry only had the friction of his palms rubbing against his arms. He was sure that he was a hint away from his teeth chattering. Harry had half the mind to dip his freezing feet beneath the blanket and jolt her awake with the change in temperature.

That’ll show her, he thought.

Around 1:32 - 3.2k, the one where y/n has a wet dream

“What?” Harry spat, tugging his shirt over his head, waiting for you to form a coherent excuse. “‘Think that jus’ because you woke up horny from a dream that y’can touch yourself? What a slut. Are you that desperate?”

Your cheeks flamed at his words of degradation, doubling your arousal and one that had you smushing your thighs together to relieve the ache. You rolled your eyes as he continued his rant instead of using the time to keep you satisfied. That was his job, wasn’t it? To make you cum and make you feel nothing but pleasure, yet here he was shaming you for touching yourself. Granted, you did it without his permission and done so while he was asleep beside you, but still.

“Wouldn’t have touched myself if you treated me well.”

+ Stories in My Eyes - 1.2k, the one where dad!Harry gets woken up in the middle of the night

And while he liked to think that he had gotten the hang of—quite literally— his kid dangling on his leg like some sort of koala, pulling on his hair every time he gave Beau a piggy back ride, and the random visits late at night where the small child would stand at the doorway with his teddy bear so quietly only to say, “Can I sleep with you and mumma?” He was not at all prepared for tonight’s’ events.

+ Feather Boa - 1.5k, the one where harry comes home after the Grammys

Y/N rolled her eyes, “Oh, stop that!”

“Stop what?” Harry nudged the strap of his custom tote bag higher on his shoulder.

“You just won a Grammy, you goose!”

Harry’s gaze softened, endeared at how happy Y/N was for him. She was jumping on the tips of her toes, hands clasped in front of her as she stared at him with admiration and awe.

(s) Roughed Up - 2.8k, the one where harry’s domestic and y/n’s mind wanders

You whimper in return, almost collapsing straight on his body when Harry uses your body to move you up and down his cock. His curls flop on the soft pillow beneath his head, sweat matting the tiny hairs to his face. The way he looks at you with such intensity and a certain kind of awe as if he couldn’t believe that this was really happening is rewarding. Hooded eyes observing how your body twitches in his grip, gasping at how strong he felt underneath you like you were merely a ragdoll to be played wit

Pudding Cups - 1k, the one after harry steals food from the kitchen (Notes on Camp Extras)

“So is it common practice for counsellors to steal food from the kitchen?”

Harry lifts his head up at inquiry, shifting his attention from gently taking out the contents of the reusable bag towards Y/N. She was laying on his mattress, flat on her back as she stared at the wooden ceiling. If she looked closely, Y/N was sure that his light bulb was flickering the tiniest bit and usually, she would’ve been freaking out over the fact that she was in the middle of the woods, hovering over a potential power cut. But the fear subsided once she reminded herself that Harry was around.

“Hopefully not,” He muses with a suggestive eyebrow.

Drabbles:

(s) Drabble #1: Fratboy!Harry - 469 words, the one where y/n meets fratboy!harry at a party

Y/N snapped her head towards the member. When she applied for the rush, she didn’t expect that she would have to sleep with someone in order to officially join the sorority. “What? Why him?

Sadie chuckled, sensing the panic in her voice. “Don’t worry, Harry’s nice. Besides, everybody does it,” She swirled her drink around, mixing the liquids together. Her lashes draped over her cheeks, almost touching the apples. “Are you in?”

Drabble #2: Asshole!Harry - 848 words, the one where harry cheats

You were calm, silent, and patient to see where he would take the conversation. Guilt was not present when you stood face to face in a battle of tranquility that pierced through your heart. His eyes gleamed in concealed smugness while his tongue curled in endless apologies. You knew him too well that he didn’t even stand a chance to hide his true intentions. But to Harry, you were a naive little girl that failed to acknowledge the difference between his acting and the truth.

(s) Drabble #3: Tease - 1.4k, the one where harry teases y/n

Harry plunged two fingers in her hole carefully, biting his lip to suppress the sound he was bound to release from the feeling of her wet walls suffocating his digits. He delivered punctual thrust, making sure to graze her sensitive spot to heighten her arousal. “Harry,”

He stepped back abruptly, pulling his fingers out and creating distance between them. “We have dinner to get to,”

(s) Drabble #4: Dessert - 1.7k, the one where y/n makes dinner but harry wants dessert

His thoughts were always about her no matter how hard he tried not to. And the fact that she took the time out of her day to prepare him something that he will enjoy; well, Harry’s heart just about swelled up to three times the size in his thumping chest.

She pulled away, shaking her head adamantly, “No way! I spent all day cooking and you’re not gonna skip it just to eat my pussy,”

He the corners of his eyes squinted in offence at her description, “Your pussy’s top tier, baby.” Harry ‘tsked’ his tongue, “If yeh didn’t know that already, then I’m doing a horrid job,”

(s) Drabble #5: Mine - 579 words, the one where harry is obsessed with y/ns tits

But he couldn’t exactly do that when all Harry wanted to do was do her. The smooth skin was supported by a navy blue push-up bra; he could tell by the lace mesh that he could see peeking out. It gave Y/N every favour because Harry was trying so hard not to let saliva pool in his mouth and drip out in a line of drool, his eyes widening with each movement she made with her arms, jostling her boobs a little bit here and there.

“Hello? Can you hear me?” Y/N waved her arms to catch his attention. A frown creased her brows as he blinked sluggishly before finding enough coherence to recognize that she was trying to talk to him.

(s) Drabble #6: Early Mornings - 1k, the one where harry thinks y/n is prettiest in the morning

“Get to see ya’ when you’re most beautiful,” Harry tickled his nose on hers, smiling at the way the feature scrunched up as she giggled. He groaned at the contractions her walls gave while her tummy flipped in gentle laughter. “Oi! What’s so funny?” He smushed her face with kisses, pausing his thrust halfway through which had her whining.

Drabble #7: Getaway - 952 words, the one where harry is always cold in the mornings

"Y/N, have you taken my purple bathrobe?"

“No,” Y/N tugged the lavender coloured fabric by the sleeves first. Then, by the lapels draping over her chest, drawing them tighter to block the gust of wind currently caressing Harry’s floppy curls.

Twisting his body, a knowing look overtook Harry’s face as Y/N exited the cabin door. The sheepish smile on his lover’s face granting all the information he needed for this morning’s chilly inception.

There she was, clad in the said purple bathrobe.

Drabble #8: A Little Chilly - 451 words, the one where harry sleeps on the couch

“‘S my bed. Dunno why Lydia can’t jus’ stay on the couch,”

“It’s Y/N!” She wailed, walking closer to the doorframe with her arms crossed over her chest.

“Dear, we didn’t know that you were coming home,” Anne tried reasoning with him, not seeing the gravity of the situation as Harry was making it out to be.

Text Messages:

Text Messages #1 - ‘would you love me if I was snail?’

Text Messages #2 - ‘did you know we had a quiz today?’

Text messages #3 - ‘did you steal my hoodie?’

Notes/Behind the Scenes

Notes: Tarnish

Notes: Stressed Out

#harry styles imagine #harry styles one shot #harry styles fanfic #harry styles smut #harry styles angst #harry styles x reader #harry styles x you #harry styles x y/n #harry styles writing #harry styles fanfiction #masterlist #hes-writer

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yan-twst · 5 years ago

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Do remember the ask"dorm leaders s/o scared of them physical hurting them"well can you do it again, but this time only to find out why they're scared of being physical being hurt by them. Like their caretakers/parents were physical abusive to s/o and and their ex-lover was also physical abusive to them. What would they do with this new found information.Would the dorm leaders go seeking revenge on their s/o caretakers/parents and their ex-lover.

a/n: this is a pretty sensitive topic, so i'm going to try my best to write on it: it is NEVER my intention to romanticize these darker themes, but if anyone feels offended or hurt by this particular post please do reaxh out to me and i won't hesitate to edit or take it down. due to the nature of this text i will put it under a read more.

warnings: topics such as domestic abuse, child abuse, and things of that nature are mentioned here, along with general yandere topics and themes. mentions of torture , too! please be careful while reading if anything could potentially cause bad memories or emotional responses in you!

riddle rosehearts

he comes from an abusive household, even though he wouldn't admit it (and probably doesn't realize it). while his mother never used much physical punishment, he is no stranger to getting yelled at and having all his comforts taken away for the smallest mistake

when he realizes his darling came from a similar background, he'd probably take a cold hard look at himself: is he... becoming like his mother? the thought is terrifying to him- he doesn't want to be like that, he doesn't want his darling to fear him like he did his mother

although the realization would lead to him being more lenient and less punishing, he is still a toxic lover. sure, he isn't yelling at his darling for breaking rule #163- but he is still guilt-trippy, still a perfectionist deep down. it's a small improvement, though

even though he would like nothing more than to destroy those who dared hurt his darling, he'd hesitate. he knows he'd lose it if someone were to hurt his mother, even after all she put him through; what if his darling feels the same way about the people who hurt them in the past...? he feels like he shouldn't ask such a crass question, so he'll limit himself to promising to protect his darling

in short, while he is enraged at those who hurt his darling in the past, he believes they're safe now: he would never let such harm befall them again... it's another excuse to why he keeps them locked up. but if his darling's past tormentors ever as much as tried to poke their heads back into their life, it's off with their heads- and perhaps lives, if riddle can so so.

leona kingscholar

he's immediately deeply angry when his darling admits part of their fear of him comes from their past experience. he cannot stand it- his darling should only be scared of him, respect him; the fact other people even dared try to get his darling to hurt in the past makes him red with rage.

he'll absolutely track down his darling's past tormentors. does he care if his darling is scared of him? no. does it piss him off that they're scared of him because of other people? god- it makes his blood sizzle. don't mistake his rage with him being a knight in shining armour for his beloved- although he wouldn't be opposed to his darling seeing it like that

he'll kill them in cold blood, with his bare hands. this isn't a job he can make someone else do: it has to be him. he may even make his darling watch as he tears their previous tormentors to shreds. it's horribly gruesome, and it'll certainly scar his darling, but he doesn't care. if they're going to fear him, then fear only him.

azul ashengrotto

he instantly softens up with his darling when they admit this. he may not have been abused in his past, but the scars of the bullying and teasing in his formative years still weigh down heavily on him

he'll comfort his darling as he wished someone had comforted him- but this is also a good way for him to become even clingier and more obsessive... sure, he isn't being harsh or mean, but his darling is still very much a prisoner to him

he'd absolutely try to get revenge on those who wronged his darling, but he might not kill them. instead, he'll torture them (with the twin's help, of course!) until they apologise in tears to his darling- beg for mercy to them, cry- before he takes them away to never be seen.

in reality, this probably doesn't help his darling's trauma in a bit, bur for him, it's cathartic. he feels like he's wiped a dark period of his darling's life clean- aren't they happy? aren't they grateful?

kalim al-asim

he gasps and immediately holds his darling into a hug when they admit how their past was. so that was why- why despite all his attempts and gifts, they remained scared...?

kalim cannot comprehend how anyone could ever hurt his darling. they're the most beautiful, kindest and gentlest soul on earth: who would dare think of bringing harm upon them?! the thought makes him seeth with anger

he'll swear that he won't ever allow such a thing to happen again. after all, he's already protecting them (by keeping them locked in, always making jamil check up on them); he'll just double his efforts. he'll have extensive background checks on every single servant who attends his beloved just to make sure they have ZERO history of violence

it isn't hard for such a rich man with connections everywhere to find the people who hurt his darling in the past. it's also not hard to pay for their deaths: every single one of them is quietly found dead after mysteriously going missing... he won't say what he did to his darling, simply reassuring them they're safe now

vil schoenheit

do people have no shame?! he's incredibly shaken and stirred when his darling finally admits the source of their fears. people are beasts- he knows this, and that's why he keeps his darling close at all times, but to think they'd already managed to hurt them before he even knew them...!

he has no problem sending his legions of fans against anyone who wronged his darling. after all, he's seamlessly introduced his beloved as part of his image: his fans adore his darling! he's presented them as a weak, meek and adorable doll, the source of his happiness. if he as much as mentioned someone had wronged them... the fury would be immediate and direct

although vil is guilty of tearing down his darling's self esteem whenever they do something he dislikes, he'll act as if he'd never done that. suddenly he brings up how lucky his darling is to have him, who will bring justice to them- he who will make those who wronged them regret being born, he who loves them so much to go through all of this

and if one day, those past tormentors quietly day due to a scentless, tasteless, untraceable poison...? well, isn't that just a wild coincidence!

idia shroud

he cannot believe such scum exists. even he- the lowest of the low, a disgusting freak who kidnapped his darling- wouldn't dare to hurt them for the sake of just causing pain!

he immediately regrets every single physical punishment he ever gave, although it's such a rare occasion and usually something even lesser than a slap. no wonder his darling was scared! he was just a monster, right? just was bad as the others, right?!

he'll feel the need to make it up to his darling, and he can't think of any other way than revenge. if he gets rid of those who hurt his darling, can his actions be forgiven? he prays they can

his darling's past tormentors better be ready for hell- what starts as merely hacking into their devices becomes a one-man lead spionage campaign, with blakmail slowly and surely driving them up a wall. idia will show no pity- he has to make them pay. he has to, so he may one day be forgiven...

malleus draconia

it's not just men's nature that makes them hurt each other, and he knows this, but even still he cannot help but want to curse all mankind when his darling finally tells him about their past experiences

he doesn't care about reasons or circumstances- all he knows is that those people hurt his darling. all dragons are protective of their treasure, and to think of others laying their filthy hands to strike his most beloved... he can feel fire burning in his mouth at the mere thought

he'll swear to never lay a hand on his beloved- but don't be fooled, this doesn't mean that the relationship will improve. physical punishments are replaced with the torture of isolation, of taking away all the comforts he's given his darling until they beg for him

and as for his darling's tormentors... to them, after malleus learns of their actions, death would be nothing short of a blessing. the draconian man wouldn't feel a shred of pity in torturing them, breaking their fragile human bodies time and tima again. he has no pity for anyone who hurts his beloved

#twisted wonderland x reader #yandere twisted wonderland #yandere twisted wonderland x reader #twisted wonderland #twst x reader #twst #riddle rosehearts #leona kingscholar #azul ashengrotto #kalim al asim #vil schoenheit #idia shroud #malleus draconia

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youreacowgirllikeme · 4 years ago

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Hi love! 💓 💓 can you pls write a fic of Chris and y/n meeting in at Yale (where they don’t like each other at all) she being too sensitive and him being too cocky but he secretly liked her the whole time. Never got along or anything. Then they meet again years later in the city, and become friends and fall in love. But with smutty included. Love your lawyer fics ❤️😩😩 so pls make this happen 🙏🏻

Time Will Tell: Part One

note: Hiii, I decided to split this request (which I love btw) into two parts, the second one will drop either Sunday or Monday :) this part is more background story/buildup, hope you enjoy!

words: 3k

warnings: swearing, a bit of angst (??)

“That’s the final one.” Your father grunted as he put down the last huge box on the floor of your dorm room.

“Thank you so much, dad, you’re my hero.” you said, hugging both of your parents tight.

“We’re really proud of you, Y/N. You are going to do so amazing.” You mother whispered, her voice heavy with emotion.

“Thank you so much, guys. I love you. Please give me a call when you get home.” You replied before embracing them one last time, and off they were.

You sighed happily, looking around the room that was going to be your home for the next four years. You were finally a pre-law student at Yale, a dream come true. You gazed out of the window overlooking the campus, beyond exited about all the things to come.

+++

“Alright, settle down.” The voice of your professor sounded over the chatter of your fellow classmates.

You quickly stopped talking with your newfound friend next to you and shifted your attention to the front of the class. It was your very first lecture, and you were almost giddy with excitement about the prospect of learning so much new stuff.

The professor had already started talking, reading out the book list for this semester when suddenly, the door slammed open, and a young man burst into the classroom. He was clearly out of breath, but still grinned at the professor.

“My apologies, Sir.”

His voice was cocky, and you felt an instant burst of dislike at the way he carried himself. He was handsome, tall and broad shouldered with a head full of curls and a winning smile. But it was obvious that he knew just how good he looked, everything about him gave you the impression of another rich, arrogant brat. Yale campus was full of them.

“Just see that it won’t happen again, Mr-?” The professor murmured, clearly displeased.

“It’s Cuomo, Sir.” The guy replied, still grinning, before slumping into the seat next to you.

Cuomo. That rang a bell. You would eat your hat if he hadn’t something to do with the New York Governor, he certainly looked like a politician’s son. You knew you were being slightly prejudiced, but your intuition about those kinds of guys had never betrayed you so far.

As if he could read your mind, the guy in question turned his head to look at you.

"Hi Sweetheart, what’s up? I’m Chris. “

Without even looking up from your notes, you replied.

"If that’s your way of flirting, it sucks. I’m Y/N and not your sweetheart, by the way. How about you pay attention to the lecture now before you get into even more trouble.” It maybe came out more vicious than intended, but you didn’t want this guy to think you would swoon over him just because he had a pretty face.

He just chuckled but turned back to the board.

You were fascinated by the topic of the lecture, eagerly listening and taking notes, the irritating young man next to you long forgotten. When your professor announced that you had to do a group assignment until next week, you promptly turned around to your friend, silently signaling that you wanted to form a pair.

But when the professor started to read out a list of names, your plans were crushed.

"And next we have Ms. Y/L/N and Mr. Cuomo.“

"Oh, you can’t be serious.” you murmured under your breath, when someone poked your arm. You turned around and stared right into Cuomos smug face.

“Looks like you and I are having a date after all, sweetheart.”

Well Fuck.

+++

“Ok, we’re going to do it your way, but just because you’re annoying the hell out of me, and I want this to be over as quick as possible.” You groaned, scribbling something onto the paper in front of you.

Not that you would ever admit to it, but working with Chris went better than expected. Yes, he was cocky and arrogant to no ends, but apparently, he wasn’t only in Yale because of his family name. You bickered about almost every decision, but his ideas for the project were actually pretty good and once you got over his stupid jokes and constant unpunctuality, his company was bearable.

“I’m so glad you’re finally acknowledging my genius. My next suggestion is, once we’re finished here, how about you and I grab dinner somewhere together. You look like you’re in serious need of some fun.” He said, winking at you.

The nerve of the guy.

“You think my idea of a good time is going out with you? Wow, you‘re really full of yourself, Cuomo.”

A weird expression flashed over his face, but before you could name it, he was back to his usual smug grin.

“Your loss, sweetheart.”

+++

You got a good grade on your assignment, but we’re still relieved when the professor paired you up with someone else for the next one.

Outside of class, you rarely saw Chris, mainly because you were parts of different crowds. He had joined a fraternity and the football team, and you often spotted him hanging around with the other frat boys on campus.

To you, they were all cut from the same cloth, spoiled, rich boys who’s only concerns were the next party or if they could graduate in time to take over their daddy’s firm. Those were the kind of people you were trying to stay away from.

+++

It was the final party of freshmen year at the frat house, and you had a blast. There was good music and a lot of alcohol, you were glad your friends had managed to drag you along. The frat boys were there as well, obviously, but you paid them no attention while you danced and enjoyed yourself.

After the third round of shots, you were starting to feel slightly dizzy. Apologizing to your friends, you went outside to get some fresh air. In the garden behind the frat house, the dizziness got even worse, and you had to lean against a wall to steady yourself.

“Everything alright?” someone asked from behind you. It was Chris.

“Sure, Cuomo.” You replied, your voice already slurred. “Just had one or two shots to much.”

“You certainly had more than that.” he spoke, getting closer with a slightly worried look on his face.

“Jesus, you look smashed, Y/L/N. Maybe it’s better to go home?”

“Yeah, I probably should get going.” You agreed, feeling incredibly fuzzy by now, and as you tried to walk, you almost fell over your own feet.

“No way you’ll make it to your dorm on your own. I’ll take you.”

You were too drunk to argue with him, so you just murmured something in agreement and leaned a bit against Chris’s huge frame.

“You have so many muscles.” you whispered, but he still heard you and laughed.

“Oh my god, you’re totally wasted, you’re gonna regret this so much tomorrow. Come on, let’s get you home.”

Luckily, the way to your hall wasn’t that long. Chris steadied you with and arm around your shoulder, almost dragging you up the stairs when you finally arrived.

You fumbled with the keys to your room, so he just took them from you to unlock the door.

“Here we are.” Chris announced, softly sitting you down on the edge of your bed. “Sleep, I’ll tell your friends that you’re home safe.”

With a groan, you sunk back into the pillows, closing your eyes.

Chris was still standing in front of your bed, as if he was unsure if he could leave you alone like that.

“You know,” he quietly spoke. “When I was asking you out, at the beginning of the year, I was kind of serious about that, I-…Y/N?”

But you had already fallen asleep, slightly snoring into your pillow.

Sighting, Chris ran his hand through his hair and gave you one last confused look before he left, softly closing the door behind him.

+++

Lucky for you, the next day was the first day of summer break. You were mortified about acting like an idiot in front of Chris Cuomo, but at least you didn’t have to face him for several weeks.

When the new semester started, the two of you saw each other in classes again, but he never brought the incident up. Instead, he went right back to being his insufferable, arrogant self, taunting you at every chance he got.

Your current class mainly consisted of discussions about the latest political and judicial affairs, and Chris and you ripped each other apart at every chance you got.

“You’re living in a dreamland, Y/L/N.” Chris drawled. “Face the facts, those tax increases for the top five percent or whatever it is you are suggesting, they won’t work. It would actually just hurt our economy, not that you understand anything about that. Also, your poker face is terrible” He pointed right at you, and a few of your classmates chuckled.

You almost lost your last drop of patience there and then.

“I am not sure what’s worse, Cuomo, the bullshit coming out of your mouth or your stupid-“

The professor interrupted you, ending the discussion before things could get really ugly.

+++

“I hate his guts.” You growled, taking an aggressive bite of your bagel. You were having lunch with two of your friends between lessons, and Chris Cuomo was a frequently brought up topic in your conversations.

“You certainly talk about him often enough to really make me doubt that.” One of your friends snickered, and the other one added. “You know that he watches you sometimes, right?”

“Bullshit, he hates me.”

“Yes, Y/N, I’m sure he looks at you with those big, blue, dreamy eyes because he despises you so much.”

“You have to admit, he is stupidly hot.” You friend sighted, “He’s so tall, and that face.”

You rolled your eyes at them. “Sure, he’s not exactly ugly, but his personality is. I’m praying we won’t have any more classes together next year or I might really punch him in the face one day.”

+++

Much to your chagrin, fate wasn’t on your side. Junior year rolled along, and again you had several classes with Chris. And as if that wasn’t enough, he started dating a girl you sometimes hung out with and became a regular guest at parties you and your friends were going to.

So not only were you almost killing each other every day in class, you bickered with him in the evenings as well, about every topic from beer brands to foreign policy. And still, when he ended your conversations to get back to his girlfriend, you always got a small sting of something that felt a lot like jealousy.

Since your friends had revealed to you that he was watching you from time to time, you had started to feel a bit restless around him. Somehow, he was able to get under your skin like no one else did, irritating you to a point where some days all you could think about was his stupid face.

Even if it was just to argue and fight, for some reason, you always gravitated to each other.

+++

“That’s it, I’m not listening to any more of your shit.” you shouted. Your latest argument had continued even after class has finished, and by now, you were walking through the hallways almost yelling at each other. People were already staring, and you had enough.

“The truth is hard to swallow, isn’t it?”Chris replied, his usually cool demeanor had dropped and by now he was just as angry as you were.

“The truth is, I’m sick of this and I’m sick of you. We’ve been at each other’s throats for years now. You won’t convince me of anything and vice versa. I have better things to do than fight with you every day. Just leave me alone from now on, please.”your voice has gotten quieter with each sentence, and before you could display too much emotion, you turned around and left Chris standing in the middle of the hallway, a perplexed expression on his face.

This was the right decision, you thought. This guy meant nothing but trouble, and your infuriating relationship had to stop, you had your finals to focus on.

+++

The end of year parties always were a huge thing on campus, but this one was different for you. This was it, Senior year was over, there would be no coming back to Yale in the fall. Nostalgia and relief about the finished finals made you and your friends celebrate like it was your last night ever and beer and liquor were flowing.

You had received your acceptance letter from Georgetown Law some days before, and the opportunity to continue your education in Washington DC was another reason for you to party.

At some point though, the amount of drunk people was starting to become a bit too much for you, and you decided to retreat to the garden for a moment of quiet. As you walked around a couple of trees, you spotted a lonely figure sitting on a bench in the dark.

“Cuomo?” you asked, a bit staggered. Usually, the guy was the life of every party. What was he doing out here all alone?

As if he had read your thoughts, he spoke up. “I was just trying to get some last moments out here, were leaving campus in two days and this always was my favorite spot.”

Who was this guy, and what had he done to the menace you attended class with?

You hadn’t seen that much of him the past months, not after your last argument, but the memories of your numerous encounters were still very present in your head. You had thought about him more often than you’d care to admit.

“I wouldn’t have taken you for a nature guy, Cuomo.” you replied “Unless you’d count the lawn on the football field.”

“That’s because you don’t know me, Y/N.” his voice was oddly cold as he looked at you, his eyes almost appearing black in the dark. You tried to ignore how handsome he looked and focused on your dislike for him instead.

“Oh, I know enough. You have shown me everything I need to know about you over the course of the last four years.” You snapped, the alcohol in your system was making your emotions run high.

Chris got up from the bench to plant himself right in front of you. He towered over you and you had to crane your neck to look up at him.

The air between you was bristling with tension, he stood so close to you that your bodies were almost touching.

“Why, because I actually challenged you, delivered some real arguments against you? Until you chickened out?” He shot back, his voice growing louder, his fists clenched at his sides. “Don’t you want to become a lawyer? Better learn to deal with that if you want to survive in court, that’s not a place for soft, overly sensitive people like you.”

“Are you kidding me, you condescending asshole? You don’t have the slightest clue about the life of ordinary people! You’re living in your little Chris Cuomo bubble where everything is perfect and there’s nothing daddy can’t take care of and call me sensitive? I’m thrilled to see how you will be able to handle yourself out in the real world.”you were yelling as well by now, just lashing out to hurt him the way he had hurt you with what he said.

“Don’t act like you fucking know anything about me.“ He shouted, his face clenched in a mask of fury. He opened his mouth to continue, but you spoke first, your voice flat now.

“You’re right. I don’t know you at all.” With that, you turned around and left the garden, running back to your dorm before anyone could see your tears. He would always be the same asshole, and you were mad at yourself for ever believing anything else.

+++

“Christopher Charles Cuomo.”

The crowd around you cheered, whistles and shouts erupting all over the place. Chris climbed the stage, looking unusually serious in his black robe and cap. He took his diploma, shook hands with the dean, and then turned around with the most brilliant smile on his face. He looked carefree, and happy, and when he raised his hand to wave at the crowd, your whole class hollered for him.

“He is so incredibly hot.” Some girl swooned behind you, and you just rolled your eyes, trying to suppress the little stab of sadness you still felt about how you parted ways with him two nights ago.

But when you looked up to the stage again, he was gone, and in that moment you realized that it was very unlikely that you would see Chris Cuomo ever again.

#Chris Cuomo #chris cuomo imagine #chris cuomo fanfiction #chris cuomo fic #chris cuomo x reader #cnn #cnn anchors #fanfiction #request

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shy-magpie · 3 years ago

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RQG 160

Live blog under the cut! Gee hitting stuff I wrote only 1 year ago, look at the momentum!

Ben and Alex are having fun with being the two people least distressed at the idea of Zolf in danger. On the other hand Ben did make him a beefy boy; so on some level he does care about making sure he lives.

"not again"?

I swear to god he tried to blow Zolf's head off and missed by the mercy of the dice. Multi guns on the trap emphasized because "Mr She Can't One Shot Me" is not playing with an amateur.

Is Azu going to do the fling open the window bit?

Oh good Zolf isn't going indulge Earhardt

I love how Alex doesn't pull the blow but doesn't twist the knife. Like it would undermine the whole plot point if he tried to pretend Earhardt just needed a day to dry out and a bath, but he didn't go into it or even talk about it on an emotional level. Just gave us the facts, she is underweight because she hasn't been taking care of herself.

"do you touch it" Alex trying to scare us and the players

Azu is giving substantial alms to the whole floor on principle. Nope the whole building.

Alex is the best, clarifies a few things for the listener even though he clearly knows that Helen knows it.

Zolf channels all 7 Positive Energies (drawn from Hope) at the whole building as they go.

I believe that is what the kids call "direct action". Especially nice that Helen remembered to have Azu tell the temple to do more long term stuff.

And I think I will pause it at this transition point because it one of those days and I can't get 5 minutes uninterrupted to listen even though I thought I had over an hour clear. Will resume 13 minutes in.

Lets try that again!

That's my boy! No hesitation about deferring to Skraak as an expert.

"Locusts", "you'll see why", what are you doing Alex?

Zolf sets Earhardt up in his room and assists Azu in looking her over. The Positive Energy did most of the work but since RQ is good people they get that even if all the physical side is dealt with she's still going to need some time and help. Side note: so far neatly avoiding my (for want of a milder word) triggers, of course she's barely spoken but still its nice to be at "natural level of distress at a beloved NPC in a bad condition" and not "is this where I tap out or is the best way out through?". Helps of course that RQ is full of people who are aware of mental health issues & aren't going to excuse abuse but aren't going to write anyone off either. There are bad people in RQG but its their choices, (repeated choices over time) that makes them bad, no one is born evil or evil because of something that happened to them.

"The Heart Beats Faster", I love that Zolf & Azu bonded over those books. Its just so *nice* they have something other than the end of the world in common.

Zolf is going to try to get Earhardt the same food she served aboard her ship.

The Kobolds are great and I love the image of them swarming over the ship

Cel is distressed at the unsorted parts but it sounds like they get to it as a separate step in the process

Oh Cel with a focus for their energy, we've never seen that. I wonder how the others react, I know it can throw people off to see the flip side of ADHD after getting used to the idea of scatter brained.

Hamid has to babysit since the Kobolds are still sticking close to him. Hopefully they've moved past expecting him to go Shoin on them and are now on the "we're only safe under the protection of our benevolent overlord" stage. Resilient sons of guns, its been like a week since they were drugged slaves yet the post trauma speed run doesn't feel forced. Not sure if its worth making a separate post to put in small words things like "when you expect people in power to be dangerous & unpredictable, you feel intensely if not problematically grateful for respect & even temper". On the other hand I have a list as long as my arm of posts I keep meaning to write on tricky bits that RQ does well.

Break

Zolf has perked up now that he has a project #relatable

I love the little tangent on elementals.

"adjust accordingly" I think that means you can do it but you will pay for it.

Tumblespark is such a great name.

The party is just good people ya know? Azu is sitting vigil with Earhardt in Zolf's room, (which he didn't hesitate to give up) while the others get her ship airworthy.

Huh, thought Alex would want to take the opportunity with the Kobolds doing engineering again to poke at their past. Probably trying to keep the emotional energy balanced, he is uncanny at that.

Someone took the notes on his pacing seriously and is making it clear they can't run themselves ragged if they wanted to.

Zolf *bap* take care of yourself. Oh, Azu, be fair why don't you? Yes him choosing what to do with his money includes choosing to spend it on team stuff, but didn't he burn his armor in the lightening strike? And its not like indulging in, IDK, fancy beard oil, good spices or something would kill him.

Zolf is in fact a brooding hero in the chicken sense

Wow Pathfinder without tweaks handles withdrawal with some sensitivity? Or is Alex being creative in his interpretation.

Oh Alex, oh Earhardt, see what I mean about not pulling the punch but not twisting the knife.

Ok Hamid doing the mending while watching the Kobolds is such an image

Oh Zolf, thats a good thought.

Oh Earhardt

Zolf is trying, bless him. Honest to god that someone is trying, does help. Oh Zolf, see this honesty about emotion even when it isn't pretty or simple is why I trust them with stuff like this.

A Meritocrat? Oh Earhardt one last run. There is no bow to tie on it; seriously bless RQ especially Alex & Ben for getting that.

Azu is so damn good at this, respecting the choices of the crew is the exact line to take

Yeah but Zolf would have left the room, he took the "walk away" lesson a bit too well.

Research? Fairy tales, medical, missed the third. Yeah Ben it was killing a Meritocrat or bringing back the dead and we've had an undead arc.

Leave Apophis for last would ya

Bit direct Zolf, but yes I think that would help.

I love how "you chose to do this" is a recurring topic of conversation.

Well shoot all that prep and they don't touch on what I was worried about. Still learning not to grit my teeth when I could take simple measures takes practice so not like it went to waste.

Its my week! I got a great episode with so much character bits, and Casper for my week! (ETA as in the week my name got listed in the patreon thank yous)

#Rusty Quill Gaming #RQG Spoilers #RQG Season 4 #RQG 160 #live blog thingy #addiction #health #mental health

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windstorm64 · 4 years ago

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Attack on Discourse I Guess

I swear to god if I see one more post on tumblr dot com saying that Attack on Titan is “pro-fascism” or “pro-imperialism” I’m gonna lose my freaking...

*deep breath*

Listen, I absolutely want people to be critical of the media they consume, especially from Japan. Due to their role in WW2 and their glorification of past military actions from their conservative side, there’s a lot of Japanese media that contains themes and imagery that would (ideally) not at all fly in the west. Sometimes it’s harmless, being simply misguided, other times it’s bad, containing some pretty horrific subtext regardless of the author's actual intention. Attack on Titan absolutely does contain themes of imperialism, xenophobia, propaganda, extreme nationalism, and more. But the all important distinction here is that Attack on Titan does it

with.

purpose.

It’s NOT condoning them. Just like how Lolita isn’t promoting pedophilia, or the clockwork orange isnt promoting whatever the heck that movie is about, simply having these themes present in your story does not mean they are being condoned.

Do I blame people for not understanding that at first? No. AoT takes its sweet time when developing its themes, and is constantly overturning what you thought you knew about its worldviews. That’s just the kind of story it is. It will go incredibly into detail about a plethora of opposing views, some being downright deplorable, and takes extra care to make them all look inviting and sweet. You don’t realize it at the time, but what seems to be the only right answer at the time is secretly ushering in the worst that man can muster. That’s how it is in real life. That’s how these evils get into real society; “with thunderous applause”. The difference here is that AoT, even if it takes 100 chapters to do so, slowly but surely will overturn all these themes and let the right way show itself over the course of the series. It doesn’t hold your hand, it doesn’t sugarcoat it, and I’ll even admit that I was a little nervous during some parts over what exactly the author was trying to say, but every single time Isayama chose to let the reader decide what was right in the moment, until AoT’s own in-universe marketplace of ideas eventually worked as intended and snuffed out the unsavory.

Does that mean you personally have to enjoy seeing it? No. The marketplace of ideas approach often does not work in real life (punching nazis is good) and seeing it used in fiction might not be your cup of tea.

Does that mean I think all of its themes are handled well or tactfully? Absolutely not. There are some stories that I think are handled VERY poorly, with the redemption of Magath’s character, for example, being downright horrendous. But those aren’t the complaints I hear from you people. All I hear are the same tired arguments that have been countered in-universe time and time again.

You think the survey corps are an allegory promoting imperialism? Then you’ll love the part where the real villains are revealed to be actual greedy governments invading foreign lands to oppress and murder the populace and steal valuable resources. And how the main characters, in-turn to learning that there’s more people out there in the world, switch their goals from expanding their territory to understanding and allying with the outside population.

The titans represent xenophobia? Then you’ll love the internal conflicts of the main cast when they realize that the titans are just like them, and the constant struggle thereafter against the prejudiced countries outside the walls who seek to punish them for their ethnicity.

Nationalism? Propaganda? The story has just spent the better part of 2 arcs displaying just how evil, dangerous, and reality-warping these things can be.

Fascism? Y’all’s favorite arc would probably be the one where the main cast literally overthrows their own corrupt fascist government because it was, in fact, fascist and corrupt.

German influences glorify nazism? Germany does not equal nazi. The author is clearly a fan of all parts of German history, and is a fan of war memorabilia in general (which admittedly becomes pretty risky when looking through the lens of conservative Japan’s notoriously glorified WW2 outlook), but nothing about it supports Nazism, or any of their ideals. Misguided? Perhaps, I can’t say I’m a fan. But it doesn’t denote anything about the author's character that we can reasonably glean. Eventually the true villains of Aot were given clear similarities to Nazis, clarifying Isayama's true moral priorities.

And before any of y’all start trying to point out what the author said in the past- I KNOW what the author has said. Or rather, what he was rumored to have said. But even if the rumors are true, and that shitty ignorant take on Twitter about Japan and Korea was from him, it's 100% the kind of thing that can be called out and learned from. The tweet was like, what? 10 years ago? Maybe more? Even if it was him he has clearly been educated on the deeper implications of his statement, as evidenced by the way these themes are handled in his story. Attack on Titan directly condemns eugenics on multiple occasions. It tackles it in a surprisingly on-the-nose way too, compared to how the series handled its serious themes prior to that point.

That's why I WANT y’all to be critical of the media you intake. So you CAN call out the glorification of unsavory themes and bring them to the attention of those in charge of them. Because that’s how people learn and grow. That’s how you create an educated populace that understands the implications of the things they create. I am 110% convinced that all these themes were tackled in AoT BECAUSE of all the criticism he got in the past. 10 years is a long time, and we are still getting new developments to this day that challenge the themes introduced in the first couple of chapters. Whether or not these themes were planned to be tackled from the start, or were introduced later on after being called out, is something we’ll probably never know. But please do yourselves a favor and learn what the heck you’re talking about, and the context around it, before going off for years about misguided claims. Don’t cheapen words that should be reserved for the most grievous of behaviors when you really just want to make a point.

Attack on Titan is a brutal nuanced story that shows off the worst that humanity has to offer, and how hard it is to do the right thing in a world where the right thing doesn’t always work. But taking an honest, elongated approach to exploring how these themes interact with humanity and society is NOT the same as promoting it. If you like your stories more black and white, where the good and bad of real world themes are more clearly defined as opposed to AoT’s more nihilistic and gray approach to morality, then by all means go enjoy that other story. I’m not trying to convince anyone to like it. I’m not expecting everyone to enjoy seeing these themes shoved in your face every installment. And I’m certainly not expecting anyone to understand all of this right away, hell I’m constantly arguing with dudebro AoT fans on reddit who are SURPRISED that Armin and the Alliance are taking an anti-genocide stance. And somehow I’m the crazy one for seeing this plot line coming for literal years. There’s simply just a lot more to this story than you can understand at a glance, and I implore anyone who thinks that’s they can simplify the real world themes dealt with here in such a menial way to seriously reconsider.

You are welcome to dislike Attack on Titan. You are more than welcome to criticize it’s possible mismanagement of sensitive real world themes. I am not so enamored by Isayama’s writing to expect a young manga artist to be the forefront of knowledge on such complicated, disturbing topics. But please, cut it out with the crazy claims. I’ve been hearing these things for so many years and it’s all the same. AoT has risen to become one of the most popular anime/manga of the current era. If the story was really as deplorable as you claim it would not have become as popular as it has been. The fans aren’t stupid (well, not all of them. Together, we can beat the reddit dudebros and save the world). This didn’t happen by mistake. The fans aren’t ignorant of the messages it’s sending. Attack on Titan is just... good! Even if I can’t get you to agree with me on that, at least look at it honestly for what it is, and what it’s trying to be. It’s really, really, not at all what you think, or what other tumblr users are trying to get you to believe.

#attack on titan #shingeki no kyojin #aot #snk #eren yeager #armin arlert #snk anime #aot anime #snk manga #aot manga #discourse #fascism #imperialism #genocide

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chocolate-parfait · 4 years ago

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Hi hi love! Big congratulations❤🥰🦋could i please request an ikevamp matchup❤ i am A female INFP aries. I am incredibly stubborn, shy, aloof, driven, sarcastic and hard to get to know. But once you break through the wall im goofy, funny, go with the flow, playful and teasing. Hobbies: gyming, writing, reading, sleeping, baking and cooking, helping people and watching conspiracies hehe likes: cuddles, art, rainy days, hugs, Sweets, drinking (wine, gin, whiskey), chilling with friends❤🌻1/2

Thank you lots luv💖 I hope you like this~

I match you up with... Theo!

When you first walked through the door, he didn't really think much about you, seeing you as just another victim of Fate's weird twists, and his brain automatically decided that he should avoid getting involved, but after getting to see your true colors he finds himself growing more and more appreciative and curious of you

Your sarcasm and sense of humor amuse him greatly, and when he sees that you're comfortable enough to show him a goofy grin, all the self control he had flies right out of the window

You can hold your own against his and Arthur's constant teasing (a quality very much appreciated by both), though he may get a bit too carried away with it if he gets too comfortable. The moment he sees that you are genuinely upset by a remark he made, guilt will become a constant, throbbing thorn stuck in his heart until he apologizes and sees you back to normal

This will make him realize how sensitive you truly are, and adding to your genuine kindness and care for others, he now already has a full list of things he loves about you; wait- love? That's right. Once he recognizes the fuzziness in his stomach, the spring in his step and the warmth in his chest whenever you pass by, his brain shuts down because Oh God I fell in love

He'll try to keep it a secret for as much as possible, feeling like he doesn't deserve you and not wanting to make you give up your life and friends in the future for him. When you notice his evasive and distant behavior and sit him down to discuss about it you are presented with a choice. If you decide to remain there at the mansion Theo will swear you he will make every day worth it

Bake him whatever you want and he will eat it all till the last crumb. He's not that much of a picky eater, especially when it comes to sweets and things you cook with your own hands, but serve him your home made pancakes for breakfast and your love stats will increase so much that you'll be able to read "Error 404: Not Found" on his forehead

The best date would be you, King and Theo all cuddled together on his bed, a very nice wine on the bedside while you both rant your heart out on topics that vary from Vincent's newest piece to things like the Da Vinci code. The light ticking of the rain against the window as your 20th century lofi music, you chill your whole way through the man's day off, but it is not a wasted one! He needs nothing more than a break from running around all day like a madman and your hugs and kisses are the best vacation to him

Despite being well aware of the sunshine-like side of your personality (that reminds him of Vincent quite a lot), he LOVES seeing you act tough and stand up for yourself. He melts with pride when he sees you telling some punk off for trying to order you around! And since you like working out, too, you're definitely fit enough to throw a punch or two (though he will step in right away the moment someone tries to touch you)

Second choice: Sebastian

He's a man that generally prefers maintaining formalities due to his upbringing in Japan (that we all know as a country which gives a lot of importance to respect) and his job as a butler. Despite your reserved personality he finds himself very comfortable with spending his time with you, and as a result opens up relatively soon. This is something that both amazes and pleases Comte, who is very happy to hear that his butler has found such a great companion

Your determination and willingness to help around and get whatever job done is, on a much more physical level than an emotional one, a blessing from the sky. Though you may butt heads every now and then because of his perfectionism and inclination/habit to correct every single mistake you make, he quickly learns where your boundaries lie and treats you as an equal on all levels

You both seem to help the other loosen up in an environment that, for someone coming from the 21st century, described as extremely demanding would be an understatement. Spending time together grants you a safe way to get to learn a new time period and the residents of the mansion, whereas Sebastian gets to have someone he can freely rant to without fearing judgment

You react well to his weird sense of humor and subtle sarcasm, matching with a pretty dark one of your own, and your goofiness is a breath of fresh air in the middle of all that stiffness. He couldn't be more grateful for it and you can feel his appreciation whenever you try to lighten up the mood

He starts feeling these random fits of nostalgia whenever he looks at you, and just as his brain starts to subconsciously associate you with home, he realizes how much of a comforting presence you have become to him. Admist all those important historical figures, to you he's the one that comes first and foremost for the only reason that he's your friend. His heart greedily wishes to be considered as something more, to become a cardinal figure in your life just like you have become to him, and that's when it clicks. He's in love and there's no way out of this.

(Also, he definitely uses you to collect more data on the residents, but the stronger his feelings get, the more his notes will turn about you; the little thing that have made you smile that day, a comment or an afterthought to something someone said, etc.)

Return his feelings and he will not believe you at first. "Is it really the time for such jokes?" "I'm not joking though?" "...". You can't really see it from his stoic expression (you might have just asked him the weather) but inside he is PANICKING

A relationship with you would mean a constant push and pull of jealousy and a weird pleasure to him. His heart is always trying to carefully balance greediness and a nameless feeling that makes him feel ashamed of himself. On a side you are his (just like he is yours but that is undoubted), but on the other hand a part of him craves to see you with the other residents (interpret that as you like :)). This, though, will be a secret that he will keep forever locked deep inside his heart and won't let out even under torture-

#i read a oneshot of sebastian being conflicted about that so imma join in too #sorry for the wait!!#my writing #300 followers special #matchups #answered

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hilllsnholland · 5 years ago

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Tutor Girl

Pairing: Basketball Star!Tom x Tutor!Reader

Wc: 6.2k (YiKES)

Warnings: swearing, mentions of learning disability, depression, little angst but mostly fluff

Summary: You didn’t plan on tutoring your best friend’s brother, Tom. He was an ass, cocky and a player. The worst. Yet, you also didn’t plan on falling in love with him either.

A/N: This took longer than expected...oops but whatever. If you can’t tell this is very One Tree Hill inspired, but I take some creative liberties so I hope you enjoy this because this was my favorite thing to write e.v.e.r.

The sharp skirting around the gym floors was amplified by the thudding of feet. Bright and orange, the basketball was passed between players of Tree Hill high school. Their rival school, Northridge High, were ahead by two points. Harrison Osterfield, the forward, spun around trying to find his best friend in the crowd of people.

Tom Holland shined, quite literally and figuratively, as he dashed between players. He was covered in sweat, bright red as he tried to make eye contact with his teammate. The crowd was at the end of their seats. Only twenty-seconds on the clock, someone needed to make a basket to win the game. This was the final game of the season to see who would make it to state. Tom’s heartbeat against his chest so loud he could hear it in his ears. He pushed out the glaring look of disapproval from his father, the roaring sounds of the home fans screaming his name. Harrison dribbled the ball, throwing over to Tom who caught it between swiping hands.

“Holland has the ball!’ The announcer screams. “Ten seconds on the clock!”

Tom pivoted, the ball raised in the air and away from his opponents. What Tom lacked in height he gained in speed and agility. Tom took one step forward, throwing the ball from the three-point line, and listening to the silence fell over the crowd. His eyes should be on the ball and the basket, but he’s gone blank. The ball has left his hands, it’s not in his control anymore. His heartbeats as the timer hits down to the final seconds.

“Holland shoots and he-“

Tom opens the paper in his hands once again hoping it would say a different name. Praying that his dyslexia had somehow mixed the name up with hers. Tom looks into the tutoring center and sees her. Tutor Girl. He hated himself for even being in the room, but this was his future on the line. This was his dream. His father’s dream. All on the lines of a trigonometry midterm. Tom walks over to her, tapping her on the shoulder.

“Hi, how can- oh it’s you,” Y/N somewhat chuckles but squints at him. “Did you get lost on your way to the gym?”

“No, I need a tutor,” Tom says sheepishly.

“Well, I guess you had enough brains to find the tutoring center then,”

Y/N laughs and gathers her books that were stacked on the table. Tom shakes his head asking God what he had done to put himself in this situation. It was his brother’s best friend, the girl who hated him.

“Y/N, you were assigned to be my tutor,” Tom says lowly like he’s holding back vomit.

Y/N drops her books. She spins around and rips the piece of paper out of his hands and scans it. Her mouth drops open and she can not believe it. Y/N’s first thought was to tell him to go request another tutor. Complain and say it’s a conflict of interest due to their past history. Yet, something urged her.

“I know it’s not the best situation but-“

“No, this is…fine,” Y/N bites her thumbnail while scanning her mental calendar. “Can we meet up…in the morning? Before school, because you have basketball practice and I have work so it would just work out better. Right? Tomorrow we can start.”

Tom blinks. Is this real life? Did Y/N really agree to tutor him? Tom knew she was the smartest girl in this school, maybe even state, and she was giving up her precious time to help him? It was a bloody miracle.

“That’s perfect. Meet you at the Waterfront Cafe?” Tom cracks that signature smile.

“It’s a date,” Y/N says but instantly regrets it. “Study…date…but not a date,”

Y/N grimaces, picking up her things and trying to shuffle out of the room as fast as possible. Tom watches her, smiling to himself as she hurries out. For the first time, Y/N doesn’t seem like his brother’s best friend. She’s…different. Although they were the same age, he’d always seen her as a child. Innocent and a little quirky. But the way she said the word ‘date’, it made his heart skip. Tom shakes his head at himself, gotta keep his head in the game of course. No time for tutor girl romance.

“Not a date, got it,” Tom says to himself, still smiling.

Y/N’s head was buried into the lesson plan she had set out for Tom. Her eyes focused so hard over the review sheets, notes, and his past tests that she didn’t notice him sit down. Tom sat back, snacking on a protein bar, watching her. Her hair swooped over her eyes, curling around the frame of her face which made it harder to not whisk away and caress her cheek. Tom instantly felt nauseous though, he was not a mushy kind of guy and this newfound feeling for Y/N was not sitting well with him. Y/N inhaled sharply, the hair blowing up and hitting her in the face again.

“You know you could always get a headband,”

Y/N jumps, startled by his sudden appearance. Tom holds back a cocky laugh, taking the final bite of his bar and leaning back in his chair coolly.

“You scared the crap out of me,” Y/N holds her chest. “Who knew spending all your time in the gym made you some sort of ninja,”

Tom didn’t want to laugh but he did.

“If you say ninja one more time I’ll leave, Tutor girl”

“It’s a deal,”

Y/N extended her hand to him but instead of a handshake, she dropped a pencil down in front of him. Tom rolled his eyes, accepting the pencil and the practice book she had laid out for him. Y/N goes straight to work, naming off different equations and mapping out how to do each problem. Tom followed her as much as possible, his mind wandering off from time to time though. Mainly about basketball, sometimes about food, but then it also landed on her lips.

It was crazy, fucking mad that he was staring at her lips. How full, pink, and kissable they looked. She didn’t even wear makeup, probably not even chapstick, but they looked like perfection. Tom felt his heart pump harder, stupid fucking hormones, he thought. But he was entranced by her.

“So then you carry that over…Tom carry the…carry…what are you doing?” Her voice breaks the glass of his concentration and he snaps to look her in the eyes.

“I’m just trying to understand your nerd jargon.” Tom shrugs it off and continues the problem. “No wonder you’re friends with Sam,”

He heard the snap of a pencil and looked to see Y/N was about to burst. Tom didn’t know she was so sensitive about her brother. They had only been friends, but now her reaction was making him wonder. Were they…a thing? Was Tom so blind he didn’t know? This caused…jealousy? No, never, Tom could never be jealous of Sam.

“Maybe I’m friends with Sam because he actually has a brain between his ears,” She snarled. “You really don’t see it huh? See how you treat Sam and how it affects him? You don’t know how many nights…”

Y/N bites her lip as if she’s said too much. Sam was a sensitive topic for her, as she protected him as if he was her brother. Listening to all his griefs and problems, she had become his ultimate confidant. But, she was not supposed to tell Sam’s secrets, especially to his pompous brother. The brother that tormented him blindly. Tom probably wouldn’t understand the kind of pressure Sam was under, the only thing he understood was basketball and cheerleaders.

“I’m affecting Sam?” Tom laughs and shakes his head. “By what? Trying to get him to join the basketball team? Trying to take him out to parties so he’s not cooped up in his room with…you of all people,”

It was Y/N’s turn to laugh. She slammed her book shut, shaking her head while curses spill out of her mouth. She should have known this would have been a bad idea. It was the worst idea ever. Y/N shuffled her things into her bag, upset that she wasted her time on him. Tom was fuming though, torn between needing to pass his midterm and not wanting his pride to wash away.

“You’re really this stupid huh?” Y/N snaps. “Sam is fucking depressed Tom. The pressure you and your dad put on him, it’s insane. He doesn’t want to be popular. He doesn’t want to be on the basketball team. He just….he just wants to be accepted.”

Tom freezes at the sight of tears falling from her eyes. This was not what he planned to happen. Guilt ate away at him. Fuck, maybe he was an idiot.

“We accept him,” Tom says in a hushed tone.

“He’s in your shadow, Tom. He hides behind you and Harry, wishing he could be like you guys. He’s the outcast while his ‘perfect’ brother takes the stage-“

“I’m not perfect!”

Tom yells and the whole Waterfront Cafe is staring at them. Usually, Y/N would be petrified to have so many eyes on her, but her emotions were overworking her and she was stunned by his outburst.

“If I was perfect I wouldn’t be failing Trig and English! If I was perfect I wouldn’t be struggling so hard. If I was perfect I wouldn’t have…”

Dyslexia was what he wanted to say. He mouthed the words, acknowledging how many people were staring at them. Tom slouched in his seat, embarrassed by the scene. His father would hear about this, lecturing him about his image in town. Gossip spreads fast and if he wanted to be accepted into Kansas State and be on the Wildcats, he couldn’t let anything smear his reputation.

Y/N watched him huddle into a ball like a child. He was ashamed, embarrassed, but most of all vulnerable. She had never seen him like this, frightened of the truth being yelled out. Y/N should have known, all the signs were there. With an audible sigh, Y/N drops her things back on the table and takes her seat again.

“Y/N, what are-“

“Carry the fucking five or I’ll leave again,” She looks up and smiles.

It was that genuine smile, the one you couldn’t resist because it’s perfect and everything you could want. Tom felt his insides turn, fuck that smile made him feel so weird. He didn’t fall so hard for girls, but Y/N was something special. Tom sat up and grabbed his pencil again.

“It’s a deal,”

Y/N sat idly, watching her student fix his mistakes on his recent English report. It was boring work, but she was proud of him. It was the kind of pride you get when your child gets a good grade on a test. It was encouraging to know she gave someone the fundamentals to gain success. Unless it was Tom, which was a bittersweet victory.

Her eyes went to the clock for what was the thousandth time that free period. Tom would be coming by after his midterm to show her his score. Y/N was a mess. She always was on big test days for her students, but this was eating at her. Tom’s ability to play in the last game this Friday depended on her. After weeks of studying, she had hoped it paid off.

Well, it wasn’t all studying. Sometimes they got food or talked about life a little. It was strange, but not bad. Tom had more depth than she first thought. He wasn’t all about basketball. He loved old movies and comic books. Things Y/N wouldn’t suspect at first.

“Hey,” A voice says behind her.

Y/N turns, expecting Tom to be standing there, either in glee or disarray, but it’s not. It’s Sam, smiling and taking a chair right next to her. Usually, the sight of Sam would make her so happy, but she felt…let down? Was she really that excited to see Tom? It could possibly be the nerves of wanting to know what he got wrong and right. But Sam sitting next to her, going on about getting tickets to a concert this weekend, it didn’t give her the same joy as usual.

“Do you want to go? I know you’re super busy ...Earth to Y/N? Did my brother really suck out all your brainpower?”

“Huh?”

Sam laughed, pulling out concert tickets from his pocket and showing it off to her.

“Oh, yes I would love too!” Y/N looked over to her student who was paying no mind to them. “Uh, so you sure you’re okay with me spending so much time with your brother?”

Sam looks to her as if she was speaking a different language. Y/N wanted to make sure though, since they had some deep-rooted rivalry and all. Maybe it was also a way of subliminally telling Sam that she was having confusing feelings about Tom. But Sam shrugged.

“I don’t care,” He snorts. “I feel sorry for you though. I bet all he talks about is-“

“Basketball? Not really.” Sam squints at Y/N. “He talks about his favorite movies and books. We talk about social issues. He even talks about you, saying that he wished you’d make dinner more often because your cooking beats Nikki’s,”

Sam doesn’t respond. He looks to Y/N and then looks down at the table. She can’t read his emotions either, his eyes are glued to his phone as he searches something on Instagram. Usual Sam, pushing all feelings aside. Locking himself inside of his head and refusing to let anyone in. Y/N sighs, wanting to comfort him but then a shadow flashed by her. Suddenly she’s picked out of the chair and lifted into a bone-crushing hug.

“We did it!” Tom exclaims, his test paper falls to the table with a bright red ‘A’ on it. “Tutor Girl, we fucking did it!”

“What?” Y/N scrapes up the paper and is stunned.

He fucking did it. What Y/N thought was a lost cause was actually her greatest victory.

“Did you cheat?” Tom looked at her, bewildered.

“No!”

Y/N almost burst into tears, jumping into Tom’s arms and hugging him. Sam was put off to the side, again. It was a common theme, but now Sam was being outcasted by his own best friend. Y/N and Tom didn’t seem to notice, basking in each other’s happiness.

“We need to celebrate,” Y/N cheered.

“Yeah, want to go do something tonight? Practice ends at six,” Tom sees his brother slouching in the chair, eyes glued to his phone. “Sam, you want to come?”

Both Sam and Y/N were taken aback by Tom’s offer. It was exactly what Y/N wanted though. She wanted Tom to finally accept Sam, insert him into his life more and stop taking the piss out of him. It might be a fever dream, but there Tom was, acting like a better brother.

“I’m good,” Sam stands up and shrugs.

“Sam, please-“

“No, you guys have fun. I’ll see you tomorrow,”

Sam looked at Y/N coldly as he walked away. Guilt overcame her, she didn’t think Sam would react so poorly to his brother’s encouragement. Tom, however, didn’t seem to mind his brother’s behavior. Shrugging it off and looking over to Y/N with that boyish grin.

“So, celebration? Ice cream and a movie?”

Y/N felt excited. She felt the most amount of joy in her life as Tom was talking, but at what cost? The way Sam looked at her, betrayed and isolated. That’s the last thing she wants to do. Yet, looking at Tom, it didn’t seem as bad. It was one of those lose-lose situations, no matter what Y/N did, someone was going to get hurt.

“Tom, I…”

They met each other’s stare, and god how could you say no to that face? He was beaming, eyes glittery from excitement that made her heart skip a beat.

“I can’t wait,”

The words came out awkwardly, there was true happiness behind them but guilt poisoned her tongue. Tom didn’t seem to notice, giving her one last hug and walking towards the door, saying a thousand ‘thank you’s’ as he left.

“I’ll pick you up after practice!” He walked halfway out the door but peaked back in. “Hope you don’t mind if I’m a little sweaty,”

He winked. Tom Holland winked at her and she nearly lost her mind. If Tom had done that weeks prior, she would’ve thrown up in her mouth. Maybe the floor, maybe on his shoes. But today? She was filled with unusual bubbles that made her turn pink and smile. Tom left, leaving Y/N with her student, who was still oblivious to everything that was happening. Leaving Y/N to think what Tom would look like after practice

___

Godly. That is how Tom looked after practice. Y/N had imagined what he would be coming to her house looking like, but she never expected him to look so…so…so hot? It was sickening, but she couldn’t help it. Tom arrived at her house, knocking on the door instead of texting her, in basketball shorts and a cut off shirt. His hair was damp from taking a shower after practice, but his skin glowed. His muscles flexing every time he turned the wheel of the car. It was one of those moments where Y/N didn’t know how she ended up here, but she thanked God for it.

“So, hit up ice cream and then go see a movie?” Tom looked to her for a brief second then back at the road.

“Ice cream sounds amazing but,”

Y/N panicked at the thought of sitting in a dark room, so close to Tom. Hands maybe touching to grab the popcorn, or getting lost in the moment and he may put his arm around her. ‘Shit, thinking too far ahead,’ Y/N thought. Under no circumstances could she sit in a romantic atmosphere with him. Not today.

“How about you take me to your favorite spot?” Y/N tilts her head slightly to give off an innocent look. “Somewhere, hopefully not private,”

The last part was mumbled under her breath but Tom somewhat caught it. He dryly laughed, pulling into the parking lot of Coldstone, and shifted himself to her.

“I have a place, but I’m not sure you can handle it,”

“Bring it baby,” Y/N turned red while Tom laughed. “Not baby…I mean…bud…buddy.”

Tom hid his smirk as he got out of the car. Y/N glowed red, walking behind him, almost hiding behind his tall frame. Tom watched her as she scanned the glass, just so in control. It was hard to put words to it, but she was so natural. Walking so easily, finger a centimeter from the glass as she looked for the one she wanted. It was such a domestic moment, Y/N picked out two scoops of her favorite flavor while Tom got chocolate ice cream and paid. But, Tom was smitten. It was sickening how much he had grown to like her. It was so out of character, Tom was drawn away from most girls. Only going out for once if the girl had interested him. But what Y/N did for him was crazy. He even opened the door for her as they entered the car.

Y/N was on the verge of exploding. She stuffed her mouth with ice cream to make sure nothing stupid spilled from her mouth. If she was in the classroom, or tutor room, she would excel. Y/N could do math in her sleep. Write essays in an hour. Memorize the periodic table or physics equations with ease. Yet, sitting in the car with Tom Holland was the biggest challenge she’s faced yet.

“So, where are you taking me?” She looked to him nervously. “You’re not going to murder me right,”

Tom laughed.

“No, not today,”

He turns right into the lonely parking lot and Y/N can finally see where they were. It was the River Court, the basketball court right by the river, the one Sam always brought her to when they were kids. The only reason why they stopped going was because Tom had taken it over with their father, using it as Tom’s ‘special training court’. Y/N remembered that day clearly, Sam was almost in tears as their father sent them somewhere else. ‘If you’re gonna sit around and color, go home’. Dom had said. He wasn’t a monster. But there was a clear line of how he treated his sons versus Sam.

“I haven’t been here in years,” Y/N exhaled sharply as she walked slowly through the wet grass.

Tom walked next to her, holding a basketball in his hands. How typical.

“Do you ever get a break?” She mused and Tom shrugged.

“It keeps my mind busy,”

They took a seat on the rusty half-bleachers while finishing their ice cream in silence. Y/N had zoned her attention on the water, how it glistened against the setting sun and the boats going by. Tom, however, was focused on Y/N. It was the same sense of natural, how she looked so perfect without trying.

“I’m really proud of you,” She says absent-mindedly. “You were able to conquer your dyslexia, and you did it. It’s amazing,”

Tom felt giddy, like a child waking up to go to Disneyland. He had heard praise all his life, but hearing them slip from her lips was the greatest accomplishment of all.

“Couldn’t do it without you, Tutor Girl,” His hand touches the small of her back lightly. “You didn’t make fun of me when I spelled things wrong or got confused. You are really…amazing,”

For a quick moment he saw her get a twinkle in her eyes. She tried to not show the overflowing glee that came over her with that compliment. He was too good at winning hearts, just that boyish grin was enough to make her turn into mush. Tom felt the same though, he little glances at him made everything stop. How could this girl make him go insane but just being herself? It was insane.

“Will you go to my game on Friday?”

“Huh?”

“The big game. I want you to be there,” Tom watches Y/N snapped her attention away and quirk an eyebrow at him.

“I…well why? I’m just…Tutor Girl?”

Tom crumpled up the tissues in his hand while trying to find the words to say. He wanted to say, ‘please, I think I’m in love with you and if you don’t come I will die a slow, pitiful death’. But he didn’t. He faked a confident smirk.

“Exactly, you’re my good luck charm,”

Y/N cheeks become pink as she dives her head lower into the collar of her sweatshirt. ‘Fuck that smirk’ she thought. His words were so tactile, she could tell he was thinking through every word. Was he trying to play her like that? Or did he really mean it?

“Maybe,”

“I’d love it if you brought Sam too,” Tom looked from the River Court back to Y/N. “He’s been pushing me away more. I tried today, you saw that. He’s my brother but I feel like we’re…strangers, you know?”

That was the perfect word. Over the years, Sam and Tom had become nothing but roommates in the same house. Neither could tell you a single fact about the other. Besides, Tom liked basketball and Sam liked cooking and art. It was complicated at best.

“Trust me, I know. Sam will come around though.” She meets his soft eyes in a dreamy trance. “He loves you, promise. I know him better than he knows himself.”

There was no doubt in Tom’s mind that she was telling the truth. She was honest, true natured and he knew she was trying to help. It would be naive to think she didn’t agree to tutor him without ulterior motives. Y/N always brought Sam up, encouraging Tom to get closer with him. He didn’t mind it though, it was about time things changed.

“Are you and Sam…like a thing?”

Y/N knees faced towards him as she shifted her body. It was out of surprise, did she give off that vibe that she liked Sam? It was actually revolting though. More so than the thought of being with Tom a few weeks ago. It was like dating her brother.

“No, never,” She laughed while Tom sighed in relief. “We would never. He’s like a brother to me,”

“Same,”

Y/N laughed at Tom’s word vomit. He was breaking apart from nerves, her leg slightly touching his and how close she was. Tom had been with plenty of girls, either at parties or after games, but he had never been nervous. Especially with something so innocent as sitting on a bench with his brother’s best friend.

“I mean,” Tom panicked, dropping the basketball to the ground.

“What do you mean?” Y/N leaned forward a little further, placing her ice cream cup out of the way. “Why do you care if I’m dating Sam?”

It was a challenge, for both Tom and herself. She wanted to see how far this would go. The playful banter and longing touches were not enough. Y/N may be Tutor Girl, but she had to take her chance. Leaning further, her hand rested on his and he jumped slightly. Tom reanalyzed her body language over and over again, making sure this wasn’t some amazing dream. Nope, Y/N was surely flirting with him, biting her lip at him and blinking slowly. So, so irresistible. Tom placed a hand on her face and took a leap.

“So I can do this,”

His lips melted into hers into the most perfect, imperfect first kiss either of them had ever experienced. Their noses knocked into each other and their hands awkwardly tried to find a comfortable place to land. Even with that though, it was like magic. It was the best rush of euphoria Tom had ever had. Better than winning any game or party. For Y/N, better than any academic award or scholarship. It was a mess of teenage awkwardness, but beautiful all the same.

Y/N pulled away first, hands locked on Tom’s shoulders as she held him still. Her mind raced with words, thoughts that she could not fathom. Mainly fear. It all clicked too fast, the River Court, kissing Tom, and how Sam would react. It didn’t feel wrong, but guilt consumed her. This was exactly why she didn’t want the romantic atmosphere, to be alone with him. She knew she would do this, kiss him, fall harder for him, and then break down.

“That…that…I…but,” Tutor Girl was a lost for words. “Tom, I don’t know what to do,”

Tom had never heard her voice so small. She was confident, always, no matter what. Even if she was considered ‘nerdy’, she was a bombshell of beauty and brains. Right now, she was puddy.

“I like you a lot,” He stuttered on his words. “I don’t know why I haven’t seen it before, but you are perfect. I can’t stop myself from falling for you. I’m going off, but fuck I really like you Y/N,”

It was as if the whole world stopped. Birds stopped chirping, the basketball stopped rolling, and for a second it was just them. Y/N tightened her hands into balls as her whole body tensed. She felt dirty, as if she was hiding behind her best friend’s back. She kissed the enemy. But she liked Tom. Oh Lord, she loved every part of him now. What she thought was annoying about him was now her favorite things. His stupid luscious curls, devious smile, and even the way he said her name drove her wild. This was her hardest test yet, wanting to run away but also be with him.

“I...can’t,” Her words came out in choked segments as she looked to the ground. “No, Tom this is...bad. I’m Y/N, Tutor Girl, your brother’s best friend. I am nothing. We are not even on the same planet Tom. This can’t...we can’t…”

She didn’t believe the words she was saying. Every forced ‘no’ cut her up inside. The way Tom winced every time she spoke killed her. It felt like both of them had ripped out their hearts on stomped on them. Tom stood up and paced.

“Why? This isn’t some status quo bullshit Y/N!” His hands moved erratically as he got angrier. “If you don’t like me, say it. Don’t give me an excuse,”

“Tom, I do like you-”

“So, the only thing stopping you is what? I play basketball and you’re friends with my brother? Doesn’t make sense?”

It didn’t make sense. Of course it didn’t but Y/N couldn’t give a straight answer. Everything was telling her yes, go be with Tom. Yet, Sam kept crossing her mind. How disappointed and hurt he would be. Y/N couldn't do that, she had to put her best friend over Tom.

“That’s exactly it. It’s Sam okay? I wouldn’t have a good conscience if we dated. You hurt him, Tom. I need to stick by my best friend.”

Tom stood straight up, his shoulders falling back and his eyes locked on hers. His eyes were dark, misted in hurt. He didn’t bat an eye, grabbing his keys from his pocket and throwing them into her lap.

“Take my car and go home,”

“But what about-”

“I’m going to clear my head. Just...go,”

Tom’s voice was weirdly calm. Although he looked broken, eyes watering and his body starting to shake from keeping his emotions pent up, he was standing stoically. Y/N did not fight it, she took his keys and left. As she pulled out of the empty parking lot, watching Tom start to dribble and shoot around the River Court, she cried. Tears burned and her throat closed, it was too painful.

He didn’t dare look back at his car driving away. Streams of tears painted his face as he concentrated on shooting free throws. It was one of the few times he left his guard down, never again though. Tom had never experienced real heartbreak like this. He had never felt anything that was a fraction of this pain. Tom watched the ball hit the backboard and spring away. The noise drowned out a choked sob as he slunk to the floor and pitied himself for a while.

A pillow was knocked into Y/N’s face as she laid on her best friend’s bed. Sam slapped her again with it, jumping up and shaking her around. Friday night, the night she always hung out with Sam had turned into a shitshow. Y/N was too sad to care about anything so she sat in silence for almost two hours.

“Y/N, what the hell is your problem?”

Her heart was shattered, that was the problem, and it was all her fault. She could have had a happy ending, with the beautiful boy who was a star athlete and all the other girls were jealous. But no, here she was laying in Sam’s bed trying not to cry at the family pictures on the bedside table.

“Nothing-”

“Y/N, I know something happened,” Sam crossed his arms and sighed. “That day after Tom passed his test, you two were supposed to hang out. Tom came home at two in the morning. He looked like shit, and not the sexy disheveled bullshit he goes for.”

Y/N sucks her lips in and tries to not picture it. Tries to not picture Tom, red-eyed and exhausted from playing himself to death and sobbing. Tries to not picture Tom falling into his mattress, crying some more and wondering if he should call her. Because that’s what she did. Played music to the highest volume while staring at her phone. It killed it, even days later it killed her.

“Tom hasn’t been himself. Won’t talk to anyone, not even Dad. And you? You brought Tom’s car to the house and just...left? Without a word. You’ve been ignoring my calls and the tutoring center. What the hell happened?”

It snapped. The final rope holding her together broke as Y/N fell into a mess of sobbing, clinging to Sam’s shirt as wails left her shaking body. She thought she had gotten them out the first night, but it was consuming her. The disgusting girlish sadness she couldn’t escape. She vowed to never cry over a boy, but she did.

“We...kissed…” She cried. “He said he liked me ...and I like him too…”

Sam deciphered her cries into fragmented statements and stared at her wide-eyed. For a second, she thought he had short-circuited. He squinted at her, eyebrows furrowed together, lips flattened, and his hands are thrown up in the air.

“And?” Sam waved her on to continue.

“And...what?” She sniffled. “I couldn’t go through with it. It would be wrong-”

“Are you fucking kidding me?”

Sam stood up and marched into his closet, pulling out a sweatshirt and mumbling something to himself.

“Sam-”

“Listen Y/N,” He points a finger at her and exhales loudly. “You are my best friend who I confided everything in. You know how I feel about Tom, so I appreciate you caring, but fuck it was obvious that you two were into each other-”

“Wait-”

“Sh!” Sam waved his hands again. “You never stopped talking about Tom, and he was always asking about you. And he was asking me about cooking and art and...life? I was just surprised, waiting for it to blow over once he passed his test. But, he likes you Y/N. A lot. Don’t fuck this up for my sake, because I want you two to be together.”

Y/N was in awe, frozen on the bed as Sam grabbed keys from the dresser and stopped down the hall. It wasn’t until he returned, Tom’s varsity jacket in hand, that she knew what he was planning to do. A large ball stuck in her throat as Sam grabbed her arm and hoisted her to her feet.

“Sam-”

“Not now Y/N, we got a game to get to,”

“Holland shoots...and he”

Tom’s eyes weren’t even on the ball. It wasn’t on the court, his teammates, or even Coach Whitey. It was on Y/N. She was standing behind the bleachers with Sam, wearing his varsity jacket, cheering and in awe of him. How long had she been there? It didn’t matter. The screech of the buzzer went off and it all went into a haze of screams.

“Scores! Holland for the win! Tree Hill Ravens are going to State!”

The basketball team rushed Tom, jumping on him and hugging him, but he pushed them all away. The crowd was cheering, confetti and ear-bleeding music played from the speakers, but he couldn’t even feel it. Tom only had eyes on Y/N as rushed to the bleachers. His father stepped in front of him to give him a hug, but even he dodged that, rushing to the girl of his dreams and picking her up.

“T-Tom, I-”

Y/N was whisked away in a circle, cut off by a kiss that could only be matched by movies. It was a blur of adrenaline and passion, his arms situated tightly on her waist as he kept her balanced while her hands tousled his sweaty curls. Although he smelled like sweat and gym floor, she wouldn’t have it any other way.

Sam looked away from the two, somewhat sickened by the affection, and caught his father’s eye. They looked at each other for a moment, Dom smiling and waving his son over to the door. Sam rushed over, his father throwing his arm over his shoulder as they walked out and talked about the game together.

“Y/N, I can’t-” Tom said against her lips.

“Tom,” She pushed back like she did at the River Court, this time lovingly looking into his eyes. “I like you too. No ‘ifs, ands, or buts’, I like you so much it hurts. I’m sorry for freaking at the River Court. I’m smart with math, stupid at love-”

“Nice Mean Girls reference,”

“Asshole, you’re ruining my proclamation of love,”

Y/N hits him playfully and he kisses her again. Quickly, more flirtatious as he pulls her against him tightly. As if to make sure she wasn’t going anywhere.

“Like I was saying, I’m not good at this whole relationship thing, but I like you a lot and I want to be with you. If that’s still on the table.”

Tom rolls his eyes, gently placing her back on the ground but keeping his hands placed on her hips. Damn, she looked so good in his varsity jacket, a sight he’d get to see more of.

“Always, Tutor Girl.”

“That’s Tutor Girlfriend to you, buddy,”

Y/N smirked, taking one of his hands and pulling him to follow her out of the gym. It was completely empty now, except for a few janitors, and his family was probably waiting for them. Tom watched her lead him to the outside, smiling like the biggest fool in love. It was again, the natural way she was that made him feel like this. Everything was perfect about her, the confidence, brain, and the way she found herself into his life. It was like one of those fairytales, the one where the basketball star falls in love with the tutor girl, and he wouldn’t have it any other way.

///

taglist: @starksparker / @spiderboytotherescue / @laureharrier / @stuckonspidey / @hollandroos / @iamnida95 / @vanetsu15 / @racewife2004 @spnqueen02 / @kaylinicole25 / @aaliyah-lampley99 / @id-rather-be-an-outsider / @fancybrittrash / @infectedrosee459 / @tragicluver / @jhanellamae / @tomzfrog / @mutuallynotmutual / @everybasicwhitegirl / @oswald-1998 / @justaduckling / @peruvian-bae / @parkersvibes

#Tom Holland imagines #Tom Holland imagine #tom holland fluff #Tom Holland fanfic #Tom Holland fluff #Tom Holland blurbs #Tom Holland blurb #Tom Holland smut #Tom Holland x reader #tom holland x y/n #Tom Holland x you #Peter Parker imagines #Peter Parker imagine #Peter Parker fluff

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dear--charlie · 5 years ago

Text

Dear Charlie,

Date: Wednesday, August 14, 2019 Time: 11:56 pm

I’m curious. Does anyone look forward to reading my letters? -calls out- “Anyone?” -dead silence emits so deafening, I stop talking-

So.. I was reading letters I have sent you. And, shit. The people who take the time to read these letters must think I am selfish.

All I talk about are men, my attraction to men, my desire to have a girlfriend, or whatever.

Which, if y'all know me, you KNOW, I’m going to get back to it.

But for a short bit, let’s talk about things that aren’t guys or girls.

Here are a number of facts about me you, Charlie, and other people reading this may not know about…

I’m very unsatisfied with my weight. I weigh about 195 pounds, and am working to drop to 120 pounds. I don’t feel attractive in my skin. I can’t see my vag anymore.

I haven’t orgasmed ever. I am 24 fucking years old. Why the fuck haven’t I cum yet? God..

Happier topics, Mare. Okay. There is this app I use called SLOWLY, where you create a username, and bio about yourself. You can start sending letters to people across the world. I’ve had letters coming in from China, India especially, the U.K., Australia, Taiwan, Russia, Portugal, tip of Africa. So many letters. And, you do get standard. ‘Yo baby. Send me nudes.’ This one guy got clever and asked me for nudes in Morse Code. I kindly sent him back to go fuck himself. The only person who gets to see my beautiful breasts is me, and the barren vag, cause I swear to myself, I never ever see Nic. (<– Sorry. No talk of guys for the next few paragraphs). The issue is.. like, there is an option where you can send three letters at a time. With an intro letter. One night, I thought it would he fun (WORST. MISTAKE. EVER.) to send 15 letters. (Keep in mind about 4 of the many letters I have sent, do I keep up a regular correspondence with. So, add 15 potential regular friends, and you have a recipe for disaster). Omgosh, Charlie + readers: I never have time to respond to these letters. Damnit, me. Why the fuck did you do that?

Okay. I started a new job. Yeah. You heard right. The ever so fucking afflicted depressed, intoroverted, frustrated, book crazy, bisexual who cant hold down a job, found a new one. Through a temp agency. I work with ______ _____ ____, at _____ _____, which is just 10 minutes from my house. The job is way better than the piece of shit I put up with for 6 mths. I love the different calls we get. But the mother fucking training at this call centre was mother flipping shit. There are so many 'processes’ you have to remember when helping a 'guest’ with a request that I want to cry. (I hope I keep at the job). Please fucking pray for me.

Did you know I didn’t always used to curse the way I do? Throughout high school, I would only curse when I would get hurt (like for example that time an anvil crushed my toe. Lol. This totally didnt happen. Though, this one time. I cut myself on this chunk of thick glass from a broken lamp at 12 urs old, that I was taking to the dumpster. It sliced my thigh, blood was gushing out I imagine. I started screaming. My mom, uncle, and cousin freaked the fuck out. I obviously lived to tell the tale. Y'all should see the scar.) And then I was influenced by boys (since I only hung out with guys through the last two years of high school) to curse. And now, I can’t seem to stop.

I make weird posts on Whisper. My username is ______ For anyone who wants to chat with me about my crazy life, follow me on ____ at @_______. Lol. (I hope y'all know when I include the blanks I’m being funny).

What other facts to share.. I made a friend on Slowly, but work really got me busy, plus I am always freaking tired. I didn’t respond for nine days with a letter, and I noticed she deactivated her account. It really hurt. Her name was Becca. She was trans, but didn’t tell her crazy conservative family. 19, super sweet. Liked video games and Eminem for a bit. I seriously miss her.

Other facts.. Did I mention (no, of course you didn’t mention Mare. All you ever talk about are failed relationships, current relationships, or almost relationships), I’m looking to learn Italian AND Spanish? Of course! Why the hell wouldn’t I try to influence my American self with my Mexican self? (Totally Hispanic in case y'all cohldn’t guess. My mom says I speak Spanish like a white girl. Well, shit… Time to go to Mexico and get ridiculed for being too white and not knowing Spanish or customs) Joking aside, I’m looking forward to teaching myself Spanish and Italian. (Don’t tell the family, but I prefer Italy over Mexico).

Y'all ready to get to the real reason why y'all stick through my letters?

Nic doesn’t want me to explore my bi side. Ken hasn’t been on Skype for a month. I miss him.. (Great, conflicted Mary is back again). Did I mention that today is my 3rd year anniversary with the Nicholas? Totally is. What did we do to celebrate? I woke up at 5 in the morning, waited for him to show up at 6, and ate tacos in my apartment parking lot. Then, I went to work, and he went home to sleep. We are going to Bastrop for the weekend which is just 20 minutes from my grandparents. Maybe I should go visit. (Why the hell don’t I call my family? Am I really that fucking self absorbed? Family trumps dudes any fucking day..) and I hope the trip is nice. I just texted him like 45 min ago of us drifting apart. Because… he will talk about things that seriously, Charlie, I could give two fucks about, then we will talk about ice cream, for example, and he goes off on a tangent about something little do with ice cream. Sometimes, I feel like I guilty stay with him because I do fucking love him, but I could be holding myself back from experiencing new things.

I want to write more. Bare with me for a moment, Charlie. Okay, I’m back. (That was a second break, in real time in case y'all were wondering)

My thoughts aren’t flowing as well. I wish I knew a friend who was bi or a lesbian who would like to explore with me. And not have it change things.

So, I have a shit sleep schedule. I’ll come home at 5 ish in the evening. I’ll sit in traffic for twenty min. Come home. Eat something. Fall asleep by 7. Wake up at 10, and stay awak indefinitely. Then wake up at 6, and start over. (What is wrong with me?)

Oh. More breaks from relationship shit. I saw a therapist. Three visits. It was nice. His name is Tim. (Had to stop because I literally have no fucking time to see a dr anymore psychologist or medical, because my schedule is a fucking bitch). He graduated from Harvard! That is awesome. His attire was well groomed, always. I never told him he intimidated me because of that. But he was a nice guy. Time to go to psychologytoday.com to look for weekend available therapists who take my insurance. I hope if I am to become a psychologist, that I’m a tiny better than Tim. He was lovely, I was just unnerved by someone focusing such time on me. But, that is kind of what he is paid for? So….

Oh. Have I mentioned at all to you, Charlie about how I want to start a YouTube channel? I want to read stories I find on the internet. Annnd, I’m pretty excited. I get my mic maybe with next weeks paycheck.

I feel like there is more to add. For anyone you may have lost touch with over the years, Charlie, does the thought of that person and the memories you shared together ever make you cry? I found a CD an old friend left to me for my birthday. And it broke my heart that we aren’t close anymore. I feel like I .. let my true relationships go in my worst state of mind.. And, I miss her so much. It really really hurts. I’m crying just thinking about it.

Also, I’m not sure if I mentioned, there are rare cases where I will laugh so hard at something I found to be funny, that I make others worried or uncomfortable. But the laughter turns to sobbing (sobbing such as my mom dying, or my brother getting hit by a car, or someone killing me) just as severe. I tried asking like crazy, and no one seems to know. That is, until a month ago, a friend from the meetings I go to (please tell me I’m not so vapid that I forgot to tell you I go to Monday meetings with DBSA for my depression) showed me what I have.. which I forgot the name of. But it is a treatable condition. Something to do with sensitivity.

I can’t hear well out of my right ear. I need to see a doctor.

Thanks to those who stayed with me this far.

I hope to have more news on my relationship status.

I seriously have like two friends on Tumblr. Why do I use this app again?

I love you, Charlie

Always,

Mary

#dear charlie #Mary

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heartofsnark · 6 years ago

Text

Black Market Wonderland (Chapter Three): The beginning is the end.

Notes: Once again thanks so much to my friends who proof read this and to everyone who leaves feedback. I really appreciate it, it means a lot to me. I hope everyone continues to enjoy this shit show.

Word Count: 10027

Warnings: cursing, mentions of drinking, threats, that’s about all I can think of, if I missed something let me know.

Missed the last chapter? Link here!

“You know you’re literally trying to prove your worthless, right?” Kisaki’s snide comment brings her back to reality.

“I don’t usually have to work so hard to prove it,” she grumbles under her breath.

“Aww, don’t worry princess, we’ll find plenty of uses for you.” Baba winks again and she glares at him, despite the pleasant tone his meaning is clear. He doesn’t think she has a chance of winning this bet.

“Even Eisuke might have his work cut out for him, finding value in her,” Oh jumps on the chance to demean her, but he’s smirking instead of his usual stoic expression.

“How long ya think it’s gonna take him to win?” Kishi asks them, puffing on his cigarette.

“Eh, a few days if Koro’s lucky.”

“He might let it go on longer, if he’s looking to toy with her.”

“Hmm, she might get a week if he really wants to drag it out.”

“As much as I’d love to listen to the peanut gallery, I need to finish cleaning.” She rolls her eyes as the group of men start taking bets on her bet and leaves to clean the suites.

Most of the penthouse rooms aren’t that bad, basic cleaning and maintenance needed. It seems they’re all relatively capable of cleaning up after themselves, if nothing else. Then she steps into Kishi’s suite, she knows it’s his from the stubbed out cigarettes and overflowing ashtrays scattered through it. She ends up having to open as window as she cleans through it, it smells like a smoke bomb’s gone off in the damn place. There’s still a hint of cigarettes under air freshener scents by the time she’s finished. His room took up the rest of her shift and it’s time for her to clock out.

She takes the elevator down, at least she can spend the night in her dorm. The only ordeal left for the night is introducing Kiyo to Chisato and Sakiko. She puts her cleaning cart away and files into the locker room; Chisato and Sakiko are already changing.

“How did cleaning the penthouse go?” Chisato asks.

“Fine, nothing unusual,” Tsuneko gives a vague response and busies herself with changing.

They make idle chitchat as they all change, reconfirming where they plan to meet up at to hang out. Chisato and Sakiko finish changing before her, leaving her alone. She starts gathering her things from her locker. She’ll drop her clothes from yesterday and the tupperware off at her dorm before meeting them at the restaurant. The door opens, the sound and footsteps echo in the quiet locker room. Erika walks towards her locker, she’s in casual clothes, maybe she forgot something? The head maid notices Tsuneko and groans, before opening her locker.

There’s a tension between them, despite their usual animosity towards each other, this is different. Tsuneko’s stomach twists and knots, she wants to make this better, somehow.

“Matsuda,” she calls out.

“What do you want?” Erika whips her head around to glare at Tsuneko.

“Can we talk about this?”

“There’s nothing to talk about.” She closes her locker with a clang and starts to rush towards the door, Tsuneko steps in front of her, invading her space.

“There very clearly is.”

“Move it, Tomori, or I’ll write you up for harassment,” Erika threatens, her face is red, Tsuneko hates seeing her this angry.

“Look, I’m sorry about this whole promotion shit. You have every right to be upset, I don’t know what they’re thinking, but I’m trying to get out of it.”

“Is that suppose to make me feel better!?”

“Uh, I was hoping, at least a little.”

“I’ve dedicated five years to this hotel!”

“I know, I know and I’m sorry. I don’t how to fix this other than trying to get out of it.” That makes Erika’s face fall, anger draining as she lets out a sigh.

“You’re an idiot.”

“I don’t disagree, but can you be more specific?”

“You’re seriously going to turn down a promotion because of me?”

“Well, uh, yeah.” There’s a lot more to it than that, but she can’t think of a decent lie.

“That’s stupid, holding yourself back for others, dumbass.” Erika is still red faced as she pushes past Tsuneko, leaving the locker room. She lets out a heavy sigh, not sure how to feel about how that ended.

It’s a quiet walk to her dorm, she drops her things off, tops off Kiyo’s bowl and gives him some belly scratches before she changes into some slightly nicer clothes. While as casual enough place, she’d rather show up in something nicer than the baggy shirt and shorts she usually wears for the less than five minute walk from the dorms to the hotel.

The night air feels nice against her skin, the city lights twinkling in the dark and people meandering around her. She looks up at the sky for a moment as she walks, no stars, the light pollution from the city making it impossible to see them. Living in the city is great in many respects, a large part of her loves Tokyo and it will always be a second home to her, but little things like that makes her miss Kyushu. She shakes her head and makes her way to the restaurant.

Sakiko and Chisato are already sat at a table; they wave Tsuneko over. The place she picked is a cozy inexpensive restaurant, simple wooden furniture and warm low lighting. She plops down in a chair and orders something to drink, nothing alcoholic. She’s slowly trying to learn her lesson about getting drunk around others. Not to mention, if she forgot about Kiyo in a drunken stupor, she’d never forgive herself.

“It feels so nice to just relax.” Sakiko grins and takes a sip from her cocktail.

“‘Cause you’re so serious during work, “ Tsuneko teases.

“I swear to god, if you invited us out just to nag me, I’m going to kill you.”

“You’re about as threatening as a cupcake.”

“Says the chubby cheeked munchkin.” Sakiko pinches and squishes Tsuneko’s cheeks from across the table.

“Wah er ya doin?” Tsuneko tries to ask and grabs Sakiko’s wrist, prying her hands off. Chisato is cracks up, laughing at the two of them.

“Hey, maybe some of your luck will rub off on me?”

“Will you stop with that luck bullshit?”

“You have The King and Kuroba after you, I can’t even get a boyfriend.” Sakiko sighs.

“Don’t forget Erika,” Chisato chimes in and sips from her beer.

“No one is after me!”

“Fine, whatever you say, we’ll stop teasing you, for now.” Chisato shows some measure of mercy.

“For now she says, speaking of love lives, how are things going with you and Itsuki?” She’s never met Chisato’s girlfriend herself, but she’s seen her in passing and has heard about her plenty.

“It’s been great,” Chisato beams, “she’s working tonight, but we’re going out on a date tomorrow.”

“Ugh,” Sakiko puts her head in her hands, “I’m gonna die alone while you two live happily ever after.”

“Nah, I plan on dying alone too,” Tsuneko offers.

“Not helping.”

“Wasn’t trying to.”

“Wanna know who my great love is right now?” Sakiko asks, her expression still grim.

“Should I be concerned?” Tsuneko raises an eyebrow, her mind immediately jumps to the gutter, a vibe and toy filled one.

“It’s a game she’s been playing,” Chisato squashes her concerns as Sakiko pulls her phone out.

“What were you thinking?”

“Nothing good,” Tsuneko admits and grins despite her flushing cheeks.

“Pervert, here look at my love.” Sakiko shows her an otome cg on her phone, a shirtless guy with what look like wolf ears, “Kazuro, he’s so gorgeous.”

“So, it’s a furry game?” Tsuneko can’t resist teasing.

“He’s a demon, it’s different,” Sakiko defends, “it’s called Monster Lovers, it’s freemium, but it doesn’t drain your wallet too much and the stories are so good.”

Their food comes and Tsuneko stuffs her face as Sakiko prattles on about the game. She’s apparently already conned Chisato into downloading it for the female love interests. And Tsuneko has to make a promise to check it out so Sakiko will take a breath, that she uses to inhale her food now that her passionate fangirling has ended.

They continue making idle conversation and eat. There’s a sense of ease to the evening, every topic is light and easy. This aspect of friendship is always easy, anything deeper makes Tsuneko squeamish, but she already knows what she needs to put some trust in these two. To maybe take the work qualifier off their roles as work friends. The two of them drink a bit through the meal, a soft flush to their cheeks, while Tsuneko sticks to sobriety. They’re not drunk, just on the verge of tipsy if she ventured to guess. Which means, she hopes, they’ll be a bit more open to accepting her fluffy noodle boy.

The meal finishes up and Tsuneko pays for them, despite being told she doesn’t have to. A part of her feels manipulative; inviting them out and being extra kind, all with the ulterior motive of making them befriend a ferret. She’s done worse things, she tries to remind herself. Kiyo is without a doubt the most worthy cause she’s ever had for doing shady things.

“Don’t worry about it,” Tsuneko tells them again, “hey, I still have some cake I got from Larme, do you guys wanna come eat some?”

“Oooh, I never turn down cake,” Sakiko agrees.

“That’s the smartest thing you’ve ever said,” Tsuneko teases.

“I could go for some sweets,” Chisato tells her as they leave the restaurant.

The two of them walk in front of Tsuneko, the sidewalk not wide enough for all three to be side by side. It’s a small thing, but watching them chat while she trails just a bit behind reinforces how much closer they are to each other than her. She knows it’s a silly feeling and she hates how sensitive she can be, but she always seems to be so disconnected. She’s heard so much about those kind of friends who confide everything in each other, those deep bonds that don’t break. Her relationships have never been like that. Whether it’s romantic or platonic, she can’t let it get deeper than surface level. It’s like a panic alarm is set off in her head any time someone tries to get closer. The closest relationship she has is Shinobu and that’s-

“You alright there Tsuneko?” Sakiko’s chirpy voice cuts off her thoughts. They’re standing outside the dorms. Tsuneko can’t even remember the walk.

“Uh, yeah, sorry. I’m fine.”

“You looked kinda sad,” Chisato comments.

“Nah, I was just lost in thought, don’t worry it,” Tsuneko cuts off any further questions. She’s not about to get sappy and melancholic with them. No one needs to know every sad little thought that pops into her head.

She leads them up to her dorm and unlocks the door. Kiyo’s cage is tucked away from sight when someone first comes in. She doesn’t want someone to accidentally see him when she’s leaving or entering and in this case it allows her to ease them into seeing him. Jumping right to ‘Hey, here’s my illegal ferret’ isn’t exactly a smart move.

“Sorry, my dorm’s a little messy,” she apologizes as they enter and she shuts the door behind them.

“This is messy to you?” Chisato asks, looking at the little pile of yesterday’s clothes on the floor. She was in a bit of a hurry when she dropped everything off.

“Yeah, I was in a rush.”

“This is literally one of the cleanest places I’ve ever seen and oh my god, that’s so cute,” Sakiko’s train of thought derails as she notices some of the plushies Tsuneko has on a shelf. She picks up a Cinnamoroll one and gives it a squeeze.

“He’s one of my favorite characters,” Tsuneko admits as she gets out the cake for them all, “do you guys want anything to drink?”

They ask for some coffee and Tsuneko plays hostess, getting it all together. They sit down on her kinda small cream colored couch, more of a loveseat in all honesty, and she ends up sitting on the floor. She shoves a bite of cake in her mouth and can’t help making a noise of pleasure, the rich sweet flavor hitting her. Tsuneko is finishing up her piece when she decides it’s time to confront the elephant in the room or ferret as it may be in this case.

“Can I ask you guys something?”

“Sure, what’s up?” They look at her expectantly.

“If I theoretically, was doing something against the hotel rules, would you report me?”

“What did you do?” Chisato asks, all humor or mirth drains from her expression.

“It’s nothing dangerous or awful, I just wanted to know.”

“It would depend on what it is,” Sakiko tells her, her eyes narrowed in concern.

“I’m just gonna have to show you, aren’t you?”

“Show us?” Chisato and Sakiko share a curious look.

“Close your eyes,” Tsuneko tells them and doesn’t step away until they do. She goes to Kiyo’s cage, he blinks a few times, he must just be waking up. He makes soft dooking noises as she takes him out and brings him close to her chest, scratching over his fur. They didn’t make any promises to keep him secret and she knows she can’t expect them too. She gives him a kiss on the head, she doesn’t want to lose him.

“What’s that sound?” Sakiko asks as Tsuneko brings Kiyo into the room. If someone isn’t use to it dooking noises can sounds weird, something between a chatter and almost clucking sound. Tsuneko puts away the dessert plates before sitting down with him in front of the coffee table.

“Open your eyes.” She can’t help the waver in her voice, worry coloring her tone.

“Oh my god,” Sakiko speaks first, her brown eyes are bright and wide.

“His name is Kiyohito, Kiyo for short,” she introduces as he excitedly wriggles in her arms. Sakiko moves to sit at the table on the floor, letting her get closer.

“He’s so cute,” she reaches out then pauses, “can I pet him?”

“He sometimes nips, but he doesn’t mean anything by it. If he gets to rough just give him a boop on the nose and he’ll stop.”

Sakiko scratches the top of his head; Kiyo sniffs and licks at her fingers. Chisato mimics Sakiko’s position shift and gets closer, she still hasn’t spoken.

“When did you get him?” Sakiko asks.

“A few days after I started working here, I know pets aren’t allowed. But, he was so cute and I-” Tsuneko stops herself, ‘was lonely’ is the rest of that sentence. Those words die in her throat. Hell will freeze before anyone hears her say something so pathetic.

“It’s not hurting anyone,” Chisato speaks up, her fingers scratching over Kiyo’s back.

“I never really got the pet rule, some guests bring pets, and as long as you care for them who cares,” Sakiko grumbles.

“So, neither of you wanna tell on me?”

“Of course not,” Sakiko answers and Chisato nods in agreement.

“Thank you both so much,” Tsuneko bows her head, “I promise if anyone ever finds out about him, I won’t tell that you both knew, I won’t let it effect either of you.”

“We know you wouldn’t,” Chisato’s hand moves from Kiyo’s head to Tsuneko’s, ruffling her hair. Tsuneko’s face flushes and she has to resist the urge to lean into the touch. Why are head pats so damn nice?

“Hey, pet the ferret, not me!” Tsuneko yells and sits ups straight, batting away Chisato’s hand. She doesn’t need her weakness for head pats exposed. Her denial must not be as smooth as she was hoping, Chisato and Sakiko laugh at her. Kiyo squirms out of her hands and plops onto the table, showing his belly. Tsuneko scratches at his tummy; he loves belly scratches.

“Is this what you were all stressed about?” Sakiko asks, joining in on scratching his soft tum.

“Well, it’s not just that, I wanted to ask you both a favor,” they look at her curiously, “if I ever cant for whatever reason, would you guys mind stopping in and taking care of him?”

“I don’t mind, ferret cuddles and I get to raid your fridge, sounds good to me.” Sakiko shrugs.

“I don’t mind either, I’m not sure what to do though,” Chisato adds.

“I’ll explain all of that, thank you both. I just, after I had to go get patched up last night, I was worried that if anything happened no one would be able to care for him. This is such a relief for me, you have no idea.”

“You really care about him, don’t you?” Chisato asks.

“I do, I don’t want anything bad to happen to him.”

“Don’t worry, all you need to do is ask and one of us will take care of him.”

Tsuneko thanks them over and over again, it’s like a weight lifted off her shoulders. They insist she doesn’t need to be so grateful, but that just makes her feel more indebted. She’s done nothing to deserve their kindness; Sakiko and Chisato are really good people.

After the hundreth thanks, she shows them how to take care of Kiyo when she’s away. They don’t seem bothered in the slightest and play with him the entire time. He’s bouncing and flopping around, excited to have two new friends. She even shows them how to play tag, touching him and then running off for him to chase after.

The night goes easy enough, everything winding down until it’s they decide they need to go home and get some sleep for the work day tomorrow. The door shuts behind them and Tsuneko can’t help the big smile on her face as she turns to Kiyo.

“That went a thousand times better than I expected,” she scoops him up , “you did such a good job, sweetie.”

He makes a soft noise; his eyes are drifting shut and his tongue sticking out. He’s ready for sleep. She cleans his cage out, refills his water, and puts some treats in his bowl, before tucking him in his favorite hammock. She busies herself with changing into some lazy clothes, laundry and cleaning up her dorm. Once all of that is done, she’s ready to focus on the more pressing matter.

She plops on her bed and puts her phone on charge, letting her mind wander. How likely is it that Ichinomiya is going to win this bet? That’s the question she keeps coming back to. She feels pretty confident that she’ll win. As risky a move as the bet is, it’s hard for her to think of a way he could win this. She meant every word she said. The truth of the matter is she just doesn’t have any skill that could benefit him, at least nothing special to her. She’s too cautious to say she will for sure win, but she can’t see a situation in which she loses.

Now, the next question is, what is she going to do if she wins? The idea of staying at the hotel is not at all enticing. The knowledge of how dangerous it is and what her boss is like has ruined the already limited appeal of the hotel. Not to mention, there’s no guarantee that Ichinomiya won’t just fire her if he doesn’t get his way.

She was expelled from the University of Tokyo and every attempt to repeal it has gotten her no where. She’s applied to a few other prestigious universities after, but once most find out about her expulsion they end up not wanting anything to do with her. She can’t transfer her credits either since it was an expulsion. So, not only would she have to start over, but she’d also have to downgrade to a lesser school.

At the time, the thought of that was crushing. She got so discouraged after so many rejections, being a failure, she just gave up. Her dad still doesn’t know she was expelled. She hasn’t even talked to him in over a year.

Maybe, this is a good thing? Not actually a good thing, being sold to a bunch of assholes is never a good thing, but maybe it’s the kick in the ass she needed. If she can settle for cleaning rooms for a year than she can settle for studying at a shittier university. If she went to one in Kyushu, her dad would probably let her stay with him and work at his gym to help with money. That is if he doesn’t decide he’s done with her after all her lying and not even talking to him for a year.

She starts searching around for Universities around Kyushu, taking note of application deadlines. If she wins the bet, she can quit and get her life back on track. She saves a few pages of ones that have law programs that look decent. Once she’s got a few options, she decides to go grab a shower and take some painkillers for her hand.

Her night passes by normally for her. She stays up extremely late, finding things to entertain herself and looking more into schools. It’s around three in the morning when she makes it to sleep, usual for her.

Her nightmare that night isn’t as vivid, not as haunting. When she wakes up at five in the morning, she can’t even clearly remember all the details, just the feelings. A noose and a death rattle sound are the two things she remembers most. Those kinds of dreams are easier to deal with. She can usually shake them off and move on right away, the more vivid ones leave her in a panic. Maybe the painkillers helped numb it? That might be a habit to pick up, along with the alcohol.

She goes through her morning routine; getting ready, taking care of Kiyo, and taking care of everything she needs to. Everything is status quo as she goes into the Tres Spades; changes clothes, gets her work schedule, and starts her day. It’s about an hour before her lunch break and she’s finishing up a room when her pager goes off. Tsuneko fumbles to find the answer button and a harsh masculine voice comes through it.

“Penthouse, now.” It’s Oh’s voice, a deep harsh baritone. She’s not sure what’s worse, getting a five minute time limit or just a demand to be there in an instant.

She makes the journey to the penthouse. It’s odd, in some respects the journey is becoming too familiar, but in others it still seems unreal. Her fingers find the good luck charm in her pocket, she still hasn’t turned it in. The soft feel of the worn fabric has become a comfort for her through all of this. She plays with it in her pocket as she enters the lounge.

“I was paged.”

The lounge is a mess, far more than it was yesterday. Overflowing ashtrays, playing cards tossed around, poker chips scattered, and bottles of booze knocked over. She’s dealt with worse in all honesty, but compared to how neat it seemed yesterday, she’s caught off guard. Baba, Kisaki, and Kishi are all in the lounge.

“Princess!”

“Not my name.” Tsuneko starts cleaning. She was fairly confident Oh was the one who paged her, but he’s no where to be found.

“Koro, wanna play cards with us?”

“Also, not my name.”

“Awww, you’re not gonna pretend to be a good girl today?”

“I’m still doing my job, unless you have legitimate work for me to do, we really don’t need to talk.” Her tone is cold and deadpan. She only, hopefully, has to deal with these dumbasses for two weeks. It’s best not to let them get too far under her skin, as rage inducing as they are.

“Ugh, don’t be so boring.”

“Her seriousness is part of her charm.”

“Pfft, you’ll seriously hit on anything with a pulse, even a kid like her,” Kishi decides to join in.

“Flirting with dogs is a new low, even for you.”

They’re trying to get a rise out of her and she’s biting at her lip to hold back yelling at them. Kisaki seems to have some fascination with comparing her to a dog and to an old guy like Kishi, twenty-two probably does seem really young. She busies herself cleaning up their mess, not taking the bait.

“Woman!” Oh’s voice rings out, his tone patronizing and grating.

“Man!” She spins around to face him. He’s glaring daggers and she returns the favor.

“Memorize this,” he drops a heavy stack of papers into her hands, “it’s an item list for the next auction. You’ll be helping the Hatter present them.”

“You….want me to present on stage?” Her heart jumps into her throat. Sitting in that cage and waiting helplessly as strangers bidded for the chance to hurt her. The memories come in a flash and she can’t breath. She doesn’t want to go on that stage again.

“Is that going to be a problem?” Oh’s tone makes it clear that this better not be a problem.

“Uhhh, I’m not much of a performer, I’d just ruin the auction.”

“You didn’t sign the confidentiality agreement, we need extra assurance you won’t talk.”

“Yeah, yeah, and if I work the auction I’ll be accessory to a crime. I get that, but I can just do behind the scenes stuff.”

“No, I’m not trusting you with anything that important, You have eleven days to memorize the list, speak with the Hatter in the tearoom for anything else.” With that Oh leaves the lounge and doesn’t give her another chance to weasel out of it. She glares at his retreating back

“Aww, are you shy in front of crowds, pretty lady?”

“Shut up,” she growls as she puts the stack of papers in her binder and starts to leave. The lounge is clean, she’ll take care of the suites and be done with the penthouse for the day.

“Koro,” Kisaki calls after her as she’s headed towards a suite. Him and Baba following after her, “it’s lunch time.”

“Do you need me to call room service for you?”

“No, we’re gonna take you out to eat, lovely lady.”

“I need to feed my pet, the old man is just lonely and pathetic.”

“I’m not interested,” Tsuneko brushes them off and starts to leave.

“Isn’t it almost time for your lunch break?”

“Yes and once I’m done cleaning I’ll take my lunch break in the employee cafeteria.”

“Aww, don’t worry I’d be honored to treat you, princess.” Baba slings an arm across her shoulders and starts guiding her towards the elevator. Tsuneko ducks under and jumps back just before he can get her in. He really can’t take a-

“Eep!” she yelps out as Kisaki pushes her forward into the elevator. Baba hits a button the second she’s in and the doors close with them all heading down to the ground floor. She glares at the two of them.

“Don’t be so grumpy Koro, you’re getting a treat.”

“That still not my name and all you’re doing is harassing me!”

“But you look just like the old Koro, it’s nice to finally get a new puppy,” Kisaki reaches out to pet her head and she ducks away, “you still need training though.”

“Comparing girls to dogs isn’t nice, Ota.”

“The first Koro was a good girl, new Koro should be happy.”

“Can you both just leave me alone and let me work?” Tsuneko groans as the elevator comes to a stop.

“C’mon, is lunch really going to kill you, pretty lady?”

“If I’m lucky,” despite her grumbles, she’d be lying if she said free food wasn’t enticing, “you two aren’t gonna stop until I just give in, are you?”

“Aww, she’s learning,” Kisaki teases as she follows the pair out of the elevator. She’s stuck with them for two weeks at the very least, an hour long lunch isn’t the end of the world. Painful, but tolerable. Kisaki puts on thick black framed glasses before they leave the hotel.

“What’s with the glasses?”

“It helps keep paparazzi from noticing me.”

“That sounds like bullshit, but alright.”

“Ota has to worry about being hounded by cameras all the time.”

“Gross.”

“Pfft, you’re not wrong, but it comes with the territory. They eat up the angelic artist shit.” Kisaki sneer and Tsuneko can’t help thinking how gross it must feel, pretending to be something you’re not.

“Where exactly are we going?” Tsuneko asks, she doesn’t want to start feeling bad for any of these men. It’s easier to distract herself.

“Don’t worry, we’ll take you somewhere nice, sunshine.”

“Do you just have a list of gross nicknames you run through?”

“You’re pretty face inspires me, every new nickname proof of my love.” Baba winks and her stomach churns. The word ‘love’ makes bile rise in her throat.

“I’m actually about to vomit.” She can’t stand people throwing that word around so easily and flippantly.

“I’ll just have to nurse you back to health with some tender loving care.”

“That’ll just make her sicker. Koro, come here, we can’t have you just wandering around,” Kisaki starts to reach for her hand, “you need a leash.”

“Touch my mangled excuse for a hand and I will throw you into traffic.” Tsuneko shoves her hand in her pocket. Hand holding is weird enough in a relationship and with an uninjured hand.

“I’m starting to think you need obedience school.” That comment makes her roll his eyes and they slow outside a cafe. Tsuneko goes to hold the door open, but Baba beats her to it.

She murmurs a thanks. Even if she doesn’t like him, he’s being nice. The cafe is surprisingly casual even if it is nicer than what she’d probably pick. She expected them to pick some fancy over the top place, given their status, but the cafe is relaxed and cute. Pops of pastel colors give it a soft cheery vibe that makes her want to smile despite her company. They slide into a booth, the leather a soft baby blue. The pair sits across from her and they start looking through the menu, the assortment of sweet parfaits draws her eye. She picks out what she wants, making notes of the prices before putting it down. Baba and Kisaki might have talked about treating her, but she has no intentions of letting them pay. She’s an adult and more than capable of buying her own lunch.

“Seriously?” Kisaki raises an eyebrow at her after they order their food.

“What?”

“It’s cute she has a sweet tooth.” She ordered a big parfait with honey and bananas along with her meal, apparently this is interesting to them. She can’t help pouting, she’s not cute and she’s allowed to eat whatever the hell she wants.

“Aww, make sure you don’t get any chocolate,” their drinks our brought out and Kisaki takes a drink, “this tea isn’t bad.”

“Mmm,” Tsuneko makes a soft noise as she sips on rose soda, the sweet floral taste brings a soft smile to her face.

“Ota, instead of saying ‘not bad’ you should just say it tastes good.”

“Huh? Isn’t it the same?”

“We’re in the presence of a lady,” Baba nods towards Tsuneko, “you’ll ruin the mood.”

“There’s not going to be any mood at all since we’re here with an old guy,” Kisaki comments, she knows Baba is older, especially compared to her and Kisaki. But, Kisaki’s acting like he’s pushing fifty or something, he’s not even the oldest of the penthouse guys. That’d have to be Kishi, she figures.

“Ota, I think you meant to say ‘a very young man’.” Baba puts a hand on his face and looks down. They seem to be really good friends, not quite like Oh and Ichinomiya, but still close.

“Your age a touchy subject?” She asks between sips of her soda and sits up as their food is brought to them.

“Do you think I’m old? You know I have the heart of a twenty year old!”

“Like, in a jar or something?” Tsuneko teases before focusing on her food.

“You’re too cruel, darling.”

“Yeah, I’m the cruel one.” Tsuneko rolls her eyes and starts munching.

“Oh, your hand must be bothering you, I’ll feed you,” Baba scoops up a heaping spoonful of her parfait and hold it out to her, “say ahhh!”

“What am I a fucking infant?” Tsuneko grabs the spoon from his hand and feeds herself. She’ll be damn if she’s fed like a baby. Baba’s lucky she didn’t have time to smack him away from her food. She makes another noise of contentment; the sweet parfait flavors are so good,

“Pffft, careful she might bite you next time,” Kisaki laughs and she can’t say much given she has in fact bitten people multiple times in her life.

“I wouldn’t mind a few love bites.” Baba winks at her.

“I’m starting to think you just have a problem with that eye,” she comments before cramming more food in her mouth.

“That comes with age.”

“I’m choosing to believe that you both tease me out of love.”

“His minds starting to shut down too,” Tsuneko retorts, licking yogurt from her lips.

“It’s nice getting to relax and joke with you, lovely lady,” Baba says with a beaming smile.

“Yeah, don’t get use to it, I’ll be gone in two weeks remember.”

Baba covers his smile with a hand and holds back laughs. Kisaki doesn’t hold back and starts snickering at her.

“She actually thinks she’s going to win,” she throws a hunk of banana at his face, “hey!”

“It’s okay, it’s cute that you think that,” Baba tells her as Kisaki flicks the food off his face and she sucks honey off her thumb. She pulls back her leg and kicks Baba hard in the shin, “ah, are you trying to play footsie with me, now?”

“Ugh,” she yanks her legs back up into her seat under her, “you’re gonna make me puke.”

“Really, it looks like you’re trying to give us both a peepshow.” Kisaki points at her chest and she already knows what happened. Her lacy purple bra is showing through her uniform top, the button came undone again. Then a bit of yogurt drips from her spoon; cold and wet on her cleavage.

“Between that and how you’re eating, I’m starting to think you’re trying to seduce me, princess,” Baba says as she fixes the button and wipes the white yogurt off her skin. She’s not really sure what he means by how she was eating, but Baba would call anything she does provocative. His face looks just a little red, the cafe is a little hot, she figures.

“I assure you, being a slob is not a seduction technique.”

“You know, wearing clothes that are too small ‘cause you don’t wanna size up, is just sad,” Kisaki says with a smirk.

“Ota! You don’t bother women about their size!” Baba scolds Kisaki. It’s not that she doesn’t want to size up, she knows she’s gained weight, but she keeps forgetting to order a new uniform. She flings another chunk of banana at him.

“Stop playing with your food, Koro.” Kisaki glares at her. They finish up their food and get the bill, Tsuneko gets her wallet out.

“Don’t worry about that princess, it’s my treat.”

“No,” Tsuneko says bluntly and puts down the money for her part of the bill.

“A gentleman doesn’t let a lady pay,” Baba tells her.

“A ‘gentleman’,” she rolls her eyes at the word, “would respect my decision to pay for my own meal.”

“I guess old people really are more sexist,” Kisaki teases and Baba looks conflicted, his brows furrow like he’s thinking. He might not be used to doing that.

“I’m a feminist, you know I’m not sexist, right Tsuneko?”

“You did help buy me,” she drops her voice to a whisper for this, “y’know like an object.”

“That was a different situation,” Baba defends. He’s flustered and his eyes are wide. She has to press a hand to her mouth to keep herself from laughing.

“Well, I don’t have time to watch you struggle, I’m gonna head back to work.” She stands up and heads out the cafe, the two aren’t far behind.

They walk towards the Tres Spades, the makeshift comedy duo banter the entire time. They finally free her once they reach the lobby, the pair heading to the casino while she needs to go back and clean the penthouse suites.

“Was that Kisaki Ota?” A soft voice asks from behind her. Tsuneko turns to see Mari and Chiho, two maids who work here.

“Oh, yes, he’s one of the penthouse residents.”

“You ate lunch with penthouse guests?” Chiho asks, raising an eyebrow.

“They insisted, I paid for myself, if wasn’t anything important.” The two maid share a look at her response.

“You know a lot of girls would kill for a chance to eat with the angelic artist, right?” Chiho continues and Tsuneko fidgets with the charm in her pocket, they aren’t jealous are they?

“Sakiko’s been telling everyone how Mr. Ichinomiya must have feelings for you, but maybe it’s Kisaki?” Mari twirls a blonde curl around her finger as she talks.

“Sakiko is a dumbass, no one in the penthouse likes me like that.”

“Maybe it’s that other guy? With the fedora, I don’t know his name,” Chiho suggests, looking at Mari.

“Hmm, but he’s kinda old, I think Tsuneko would prefer a cute young guy.”

“That’s true, plus I hear he’s super sweet.”

“Shouldn’t you two be working?!” Tsuneko growls out, sick of this conversation.

“We’re going, we’re going, enjoy your time in the penthouse.” Chiho waves her off and the two go off to work. She rolls her eyes at their nonsense and ventures back up to the penthouse.

She cleans Kishi’s suite first this time, knowing full well it will take the most time. Sure enough, it’s as much of a disaster area as it was the day before. It takes her twice as long to clean his suite as it does any of the other suites. She’s sweaty and frustrated by the time she gets the last ash stain out of the carpet. He’s an old guy and he should know how to clean up after himself by now, but apparently that’s asking too much.

The rest of the suites are a breeze in comparison. She finishes cleaning up the last suite, Oh’s, when her pager buzzes. Tsuneko has finally cracked the code of where the damn answer button it.

“Lounge. Five minutes,” Ichinomiya demands and she rolls her eyes. She’s already in the penthouse, she could be there in less than a minute. He told her she was late yesterday, but he didn’t do anything. She hates when people waste her time and he seems to be the same way. Ugh, the thought they have anything in common makes her stomach churn.

She takes out her phone and decides to play on some apps. Irritating Ichinomiya makes winning a plushie in her crane app game all the more satisfying. Now might be a good time to check out the otome app that Sakiko recommended. She watches it download and plays through the intro, there’s a snake demon character who catches her eye. Six minutes pass and she’s content finally making her way to the lounge.

“You’re late.” Ichinomiya doesn’t even look up from his tablet. Oh and Kishi are both here as well.

“Happens.” She shrugs and she hears Kishi snicker while Ichinomiya glares.

“Coffee, now.”

“Would either of you like anything?”

They both tell her no and she goes to make Ichinomiya his coffee. She repeats what she did last time since he didn’t complain and seemed to like it. It seems more like milk and sugar with a hint of espresso, but given her own love of sweets she can’t truly judge. She places it down in front of him and starts to leave.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Ichinomiya questions before drinking her coffee.

“I already cleaned the lounge and suites, I’m going to finish cleaning the guest rooms.”

“No, you’re coming with me.” He puts his now empty cup down and stands up before striding out of the room. She trails behind him, confused.

“Uh, where are we going?” She asks as they step into the elevator. Surely, he hasn’t already thought up a way to win the bet. Ichinomiya doesn’t acknowledge her, continuing to work on his tablet.

“Okay,” she speaks up again, “you’ve apparently become a mute in the past five seconds.”

He looks up just to glare at her and she meets his eyes, waiting for him to say something. It’s not that hard to tell her what’s going on, she isn’t expecting the world.

“You’ll be my assistant at an event tonight,” he says with an aggravated sigh and looks back to his tablet, like talking to her is a nuisance.

“Isn’t that usually Kenzaki’s job?” She asks both out of curiosity and the need to press upon him that this task is not special to her, it doesn’t win the bet.

“I’m aware it doesn’t count for the bet,” he grins at being able to see through her, “Kenzaki has enough to worry about right now.”

“If the event isn’t until tonight, why are we going somewhere now?”

“You can’t show up in your uniform.” He looks at her like she’s stupid.

“Do I need hours to change?”

“You need clothes for the event.”

“I have clothes that can work,” she tells him. Buying clothes for one event sounds like a pain. Tsuneko still has some formal clothes from when she interned at a law firm.

“Oh and I’m sure they fit you as well as your uniform,” he stares pointedly at her chest and she fixes that damn button, not even bothering to look down, “if you can’t even manage a uniform, how can I trust you to dress yourself for an event.”

She wants to argue, but those more formal outfits are from before her weight gain. They were a little lose when she first got them, so while they might work, it’d still be a gamble. It wouldn’t exactly look good for her to show up as his assistant and have her chest popping out.

“I haven’t gotten around to ordering a size up, but I see your point,” she grumbles as the elevator comes to a stop. It’s struggle to keep up with Ichinomiya, he’s easily a foot taller than her and his legs are probably twice the length of hers. She’s practically jogging to keep up with his casual steps.

There’s a sleek black limousine in front of the Tres Spades that Ichinomiya climbs into. She follows and can’t help staring. The back of the car is more like a lounge; leather chairs more like a large couch and chilled champagne. Tsuneko sits down closet to the door and far away from Ichinomiya, taking advantage of the space. It’s uncomfortable to say the least.

To an extent working at the Tres Spades and now the penthouse has gotten her a bit more accustomed to seeing over the top extravagance. But, it still annoys her and makes her uncomfortable. Even when she was striving for a better job, something that would afford her a higher standard of living, she never wanted this kind of stuff. It’s too much. No one needs a limo and chilled champagne on stand by.

The ride is filled with an awkward tension. Ichinomiya doing work on his tablet whil she makes herself as small as possible and plays on her phone. She wins a few more plushies and gets started on snake demon’s route; his name is Tatsumi and she wants to kiss his face. There’s a few others she’s interested in, but snake man is stealing her heart.

They come to a stop and she puts her monster romance on pause to look at where they are. There’s a high end boutique, she’s heard of it and it’s pricey. She tucks her phone into her pocket and follows Ichinomiya inside. There’s several racks of clothes, lighted shoe displays, and a strong perfume scent in the store. She can feel the store trying to drain her bank account already. Online shopping is her go to with clothes in particular. She can find good deals, try them on in the leisure of her own apartment, and send back what she doesn’t need. It’s so much easier. A price tag catches her eye and she can hear her wallet crying.

Ichinomiya wastes no time and starts picking out clothes, his eyes looking between the fabric and Tsuneko. An attendant is hovering beside him as he puts clothes on her arms. He may have more experience with this stuff, but why is he picking what’s going on her body?

“You know I can pick out clothes myself, right?” She raises an eyebrow at him and crosses her arms over her chest.

“You’ll wear what I say, I can’t have you embarrassing me, remember your two options?” He reminds her of his asinine ‘yes’ or ‘okay’ line.

“Remember when I told you to fuck off?” She rolls her eyes and starts looking through clothes herself, not giving him another look. Her eyes immediately go to the darker dresses, simple and sleek would probably look best for an assistant look. She picks out a few, even though the price tags make her sad. He just looks annoyed when she comes back with her own picks.

“Go try everything on.”

“Fine,” she refuses to say ‘yes’ or ‘okay’ to him.

Tsuneko goes into the dressing room, her picks in her arms and Ichinomiya’s picks in the attendants arms. She puts all her options, there’s far too many of them, in the seat. All of them are more than she’d ever spend on clothes. She can afford a few, but it’ll mean her severely cutting her budget somewhere else. Maybe she’ll buy one for the event and return it right after? Otherwise she’ll be stuck eating nothing but rice for a couple weeks.

She decides on one of the dresses she picked, if only to irk him. It’s a dark red bodycon dress with sleeves and a modest neckline. Her work ponytail doesn’t really suit it and she takes it down. It takes her longer than she’d care to admit to pull the dress up, tight over her curves as it’s meant to be. Once it’s in place, she steps outside, showing the dress to Ichinomiya. She hates this, his eyes scan over her, like he’s taking in every detail. He’s evaluating the dress and she knows that, but it still feels disgusting and objectifying.

“Absolutely not, it’s too conservative and looks frumpy, try one of the ones I picked out, now.”

She rolls her eyes and walks back in, catching sight of herself in the mirror again. He’s not wrong, not that she’d ever tell him that, but with her curvy figure the higher up neckline looks a little frumpy. She grabs one of his picks and tugs it on. It’s more classic, black with white straps and a band around the stomach. It’s slimming despite the body-con style and shows a tasteful amount of cleavage. She sighs, it looks nice on her. He has good taste and she’s angry about it. Once she’s shown him, he gives it his approval, of course.

This impromptu fashion show continues this way; him evaluating each outfit and dress, making comments, and either approving or disapproving them. He even accepts some of her picks. She sorts them into yes and no piles as they go through this entire process. They finally get done with the last outfit.

“So, do you want me to pick one out of the yes pile or what?” She asks him and he narrows his eyes, like she just said the stupidest thing, before turning to the attendant.

“Ring up all the clothes I approved, we still need to look at shoes and accessories.”

“Wait, what,” her eyes widen, “it’s just one event, I don’t need twenty outfits.”

“Be quiet,” Ichinomiya demands, busy looking through shoes.

“I can’t afford all of this.” That earns her a disgusted look from Ichinomiya, his nose wrinkling like he’s smelled something foul.

“Don’t be ridiculous, I’m buying them for you.” He’s apparently found the shoes and accessories because he starts making a beeline for the register, pulling out a card.

“What, no,” the number on the register display makes her head spin, “I’m not letting you spend that much on me.”

“You won’t let me,” he says the word ‘let’ like it tastes foul in his mouth and glares at her, “what makes you think the power to let me do anything?”

“Hey,” Ichinomiya reaches to hand his card to the cashier and Tsuneko throws her hand up to try to stop him, “okay, but after the event or whatever, you’ll return them and get your money back, sound good?”

“Why on earth would I return them?”

“So, you don’t waste your money.”

“Don’t waste your time by thinking about it too much, I need to make sure you don’t embarrass me,.” He hands his card over, clearly annoyed.

Tsuneko feels sick seeing the total of it all, she wishes she could pay him back, but that would take forever. Plus, if she really wanted to be a stickler about it she’d also all them all twenty-million for buying her. It is because of him that she needs these clothes, so she can excuse it away as being similar to uniforms.

Store attendants follow them out of the boutique and stack the clothes in the limo, before they leave. She plays around more in Monster Lovers until they’re back at the hotel. She’s at her first love challenge when she has to tuck her phone away and starts to get the clothes bags.

“I’ll have them taken up to the penthouse.”

“Why would you have them put in the penthouse?”

“Do you ever tire of asking ridiculous questions?”

“Do you ever tire of giving terrible answers?”

“Given your catastrophically bad taste, Ota will do your hair and makeup for the event.”

“I can do my own hair and makeup,” she groans, “can’t you let me do that much? I’m trying to compromise here.”

“I don’t compromise, go to the penthouse.”

“C’mon, I-”

“When I tell you to do something I expect you to do it within five seconds,” He cuts her off and gives her a pointed look, the staff has already started taking the clothes to the penthouse. She meets his glare and stands closer, in his personal space.

“One bunny scout,” she holds up her fingers as she counts seconds in bunny scouts, “two bunny scout, three bunny scout, four bunny scout, five bunny scout, six bunny scout.” On the sixth bunny scout she finally turns to leave. Ichinomiya scoffs from behind her and follows her up to the penthouse lounge. The entire group is there, they sit up and look up at them.

“Ota, she’s going to an event with me, do her hair and makeup.”

“Awww, I get to groom Koro,” Kisaki perks up and is already heading towards his suite, “c’mon girl.”

Tsuneko tosses her head back and groans before following him. She has a headache coming on. Kisaki is laying out clothes from the bags, there was some stuff about him being involved in the fashion industry during her search on him.

“Go take a shower, I need your face and hair clean, there’s only human products though,” Kisaki tells her without even looking up from the clothes, he looks hyper-focused. Mari is right, he really is cute, but his personality is such a train wreck, “hmm, oh do you need me to wash you, koro?”

“What!?” she jolts at his suggestion and her cheeks burn, “don’t be fucking weird!”

She scurries off to his suite bathroom, it’s huge with a large bathtub and a large shower stall. The shower stall alone is probably bigger than her dorm. And entire wall is made of window glass, showing twinkling city lights. The penthouse is too high up for anyone to be able to see up into the window, but the idea of being naked in front of it still seems strange. There’s a fluffy white bathrobe, so she guess she’ll change into that.

Tsuneko doubles check that the bathroom door is locked because she doesn’t trust Kisaki as far as she could throw him. Well, she could actually probably throw him pretty far, he doesn’t look that heavy. But, her point stands that gremlins can’t be trusted. She strips down and something just feels weird. The large open unfamiliar bathroom and having such a big clear window in front of her, she feels exposed. Her body is hot, like it’s on fire, her reflections shows how bright a pink her face is. God, she’s getting flustered and bothered by standing naked in front of a window. She needs to get laid, this is pathetic.

She hops into the shower, after removing the bandages from her hand as well, and starts to wash. Steaming hot water relaxes her to a degree, the products are nice and luxurious, but she prefers her own if only for the familiarity of the scents. Tsuneko washes up quickly, having to stop her hands from wandering to do dirtier things a few times. She can practically hear her treasure chest of toys calling her name from under her dorm bed.

Once she’s done washing up with no funny business, to the disdain of her hormones, she dries off and puts on her underwear with the robe over it. She’s not giving Kisaki a chance to see her bra and panties on the bathroom floor. She finds the first aid kit in the bathroom and starts to redo her bandages, making them less bulky and intrusive this time. The cuts are healing well despite her still using her hand and it doesn’t hurt as much to move it. She looks at her now makeup free face, the bruises has changed from more red hues to blues and purples. Kisaki will still have to cover them up.

Steam floats out of the bathroom as she steps out back into the suite. Kisaki has chosen her outfit for the event, laid out on the bed. It one of the ones she picked, she notes with some satisfaction.

“Sit,” Kisaki gestures towards the edge of one of beds and sits down, “now give me paw.” He holds out his hand with a cheeky grin and she smack it away, earning her a glare.

“Don’t push your luck, Kisaki,” she grumbles.

“Ugh, just call me Ota, we’re basically the same age,” he tells her as he starts looking through makeup palettes.

“Doesn’t matter,” she tells him as he starts carefully dabbing on foundation. His movements are more gentle when he starts to apply over her bruises.

“That’s from the night you were sold right?”

“Uh, yeah, my face got slammed against the floor,” she murmurs, not wanting to think about that night. Every memory of it makes her stomach churn.

“Maybe we should have reported them to PETA,” he says with a shit eating grin.

“Fuck off, Gremlin.”

“Hey, who are you calling a gremlin?” He glares at her.

“You’re way more gremliny than angelic, that’s for su-eep!” Kisaki pinches the non-bruised cheek and pulls causing a twinge of pain.

“Can you just shut up and be cute?”

“Nefuh maaged to do efer of thoves,” she responds, her speech distorted by her cheek being yanked.

Kisaki lets go and gets back her makeup, he might not need to use blush on that side now. There’s something oddly intimate about having her makeup put on by someone else. She thinks the last time that happened was her mom letting her play with lipstick when she was three or so. It involves a lot of face touching between application and him gently moving her head as needed. His amber eyes are trained on her face the entire time with an intense focus, she find herself having to look away because it’s too much. Kisaki applies a coat of lipstick before pulling away and giving her a final longer distance look.

“Next is your fur, he says before going to the bathroom and reappearing with a blow dryer and other tools.

“Are you ever going to stop with the dog bullshit?” She asks as Kisaki plugs in the blowdryer and gets behind her on the bed.

“You didn’t even let your fur dry completely, you should have just let me give you a bath,” he answers nothing and starts blow drying her hair.

The heat is relaxing as well as the feeling of his fingers working over her scalp and through her hair. She’s reminded of all the times she’s fallen asleep during hair washes at the salon. She leans into each touch and her eyes keep wanting to drift shut. Her cheeks are warm and she chooses to blame it on the heat from the dryer. Tsuneko will never why she’s so weak to having her hair played with.

Kisaki pulls back her hair into a bun, leaving her bangs and side locks loose. He adjusts little details, before finally leaving it be.

“There you go, you have a really fluffy coat,” he says tapping the bun on the back of her head.

“I don’t have the energy to call you out, I’m going to go change.” She sighs and takes the change of clothes to the bathroom.

She freezes when she sees herself in the mirror, she understands why Ichinomiya wanted Kisaki to do her makeup. It’s not too dramatic like part of her feared, she’s never been a fan of heavy makeup looks. Soft blush eyeshadow tones, eyeliner that’s just thick enough to bring out her eyes, foundation that can cover the bruises but not hide her freckles, contour that makes her face a little slimmer looking, and soft berry red lipstick. It’s the perfect balance of enhancing her looks without trying to change it. She could never even dream of doing a makeup job this perfect.

Tsuneko steps into the dress and pulls it up, so she won’t risk ruining her hair or makeup. She looks at it on her and pouts. It’s one she picked out and she remembers it well, but in the store she paired it with a blazer that covered up a bit more of the neckline. Kisaki hasn’t done that, or at least he only had the dress, shoes, and a necklace laid out. The top of the dress is made of white lace with a deep v neckline that goes into a black body con dress at the waist down. She has to adjust her bra a bit so it doesn’t show. She puts on the necklace, a simple gemstone on a silver chain, and the black heels.

“Can we talk about this dress, Kisaki?” She asks as she leaves the bathroom.

“Let’s go show Eisuke, he’s probably getting impatient by now.” Kisaki doesn’t wait to hear her feedback and leaves out of the suite.

She sighs and follows after him, cursing under her breath. Tsuneko hasn’t even left and she’s already eager to get this night over and done with. And entire night of waiting on Ichinomiya and being his lackey, Oh killing her starts to sound more and more like a better alternative. The hope of escaping it all in two weeks is the only thing keeping her spirits up. She has to get away from this all.

#kissed by the baddest bidder #kbtbb #eisuke ichinomiya #soryu oh #ota kisaki #mamoru kishi #mitsunari baba #kbtbb eisuke #kbtbb soryu #kbtbb ota #kbtbb mamoru #kbtbb baba #black market wonderland

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mininky · 6 years ago

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I'm feeling a bizarre need to wax nostalgic after talking to a client today. This will be very long and smattered with details that might seem unnecessary but I feel are needed to paint an accurate picture. This is the story about how I learned that shitting on fandoms makes you worse than however shitty you think that fandom is. Also, this does go over sensitive topics such as abuse so please read at your own risk.

Years ago, in the olden days of myspace when only college students could use facebook and tumblr was most likely but a mere thought I had hit an odd time in my life. Puberty hit me like a freight train the summer before I was to start high school. I had always been a very, very small child. I was the runt of the litter, born barely over three pounds, and that continued most of my life. Until right before high school. Prior to the sudden thrust into young adulthood, I had been small enough to still fit into most of my kindergarten clothes, I was just that small. Also, most of my clothes were thrift finds that were slightly too big, so that did have a part to play in this. And then came that summer, the summer from hell. For the first time I weighed over 100 pounds, and I'm pretty sure my rapidly growing chest was honestly what helped tip that scale. I went from not needing a training bra (whatever the fuck those are for) to suddenly being a full C and still growing, grew about four inches over summer, and had old ladies telling me I had child birthing hips at church (which can I just add is really fucking creepy to say to a fucking child.) (Not to mention the sudden learning of catcalls and creepy adult men.)

I can distinctly remember around the fourth time I told my mother in a period of about three months I didn't fit the bra she literally bought just the month prior her breaking down and saying that she couldn't afford to keep getting new ones. Luckily I worked at a used bookstore and while I was only paid in books (it was honestly a great deal for me) the owner felt so bad when I told her this she gave me a couple hundred bucks cash. That was when I first learned that tits are fucking expensive.

As with all young teenagers entering into high school I was scared shitless. I had somehow managed to convince my parents to allow me to enroll in a small art school that was a serious commute from our house. Considering that the public school I was supposed to go to had serious gang violence issues as well as a few cops who had been killed there recently, for once in their terrible parenting career they agreed with me. So here I was on the first day of high school surrounded by a bunch of kids I'd never met before, with a new body that didn't even feel like mine, in a part of town that I'd never been to. Now, being the new kid wasn't new to me. I'd played my role as the new kid more than a dozen times at this point in my academic career, and I was usually able to just hide quietly in a corner and either be bullied or ignored by the world. But high school felt like a new chance. And an arts school at that. Until I realized that the office fucked up all of my classes and somehow, instead of being placed in creative writing I got placed in dance.

Now let me explain a bit of background on this school. It was god awful in almost every way shape and form. Anarchy comes close to describing how this school ran. The principal snorted coke frequently throughout the day, most of the students would just leave classes to go hang out, drugs were a serious problem. And I'm not talking about kids coming in rolling or slightly high, no I mean you want it someone has it. Whatever you fancy. But the dance program? Best. In. The. State. Well known by scouts. I know people who went on to be in Cirque du Soleil and Julliard. That good. It was the only thing in this shithole of a school that brought in money and kept it running. Now there were other seriously amazing teachers, but they usually didn't last long because of Mr. snortsalotofwhitepowder.

And here I was, with this awkward new body, riddled with anxiety, self-loathing, and teenage angst-fueled now stuck in this dance class with girls that had been dancing before they could fucking walk. Luckily there were two other girls who had never danced before. I was still the worst out of all of them. Now my dance teacher had a few rules. Anyone who wanted to dance could join her class, and everyone had to start from the beginning class no exceptions. There were no tryouts, no prior experience needed. The other rule? You never, ever, ever pressure someone into a weight range. Bodies can move in beautiful ways in all different forms was her philosophy. And the last rule? No cussing. Which seemed like a lot of rules because, again, the school was verging on being run completely by drug-addled angst-filled teenagers.

Now I hated this class before I ever stepped foot in it, at no fault of my teacher. I had always been horribly uncoordinated, and while some might have felt glee at rapid body changes I had found myself (like most young girls I think) incredibly uncomfortable at having to spend hours upon hours a week staring at this new form in freaking tights and a leotard in mirrors. I was also terrified of failing anything, and once again I seriously sucked at this class. I couldn't handle not being good at something when I thought I was finally going to a place where I could be...you know good and happy and accepted but the world had other cruel plans for me. But the biggest reason why I hated this class? My dance teacher, which again wasn’t really fair to her. To say I loathed her very existence that first quarter doesn't really begin to describe just how much I wanted to see her spontaneously burst into flames and be gone from my life. She ruled with an iron fist, which shouldn't be surprising considering that she was an award-winning ballerina and modern dancer who was Russian classically trained, had a six-pack on her six-pack and possibly ate nails for breakfast. (I would later find out that her eating habits were terrible and she rarely touched a vegetable.)

It wasn't unusual for there to be a lot of screaming from the dance teacher. One of my favorite lines to repeat from her is, "My dead grandmother can plie better than you from her coffin!" Lots of screaming, lots of failing, lots of crying from other girls. I was one of the few who never broke. I may have been a terrible dancer who looked like a newborn gazelle but I lived in a verbally and physically abusive home. Screaming was something I had learned to tune out by the time I was six. As long as there wasn't a phonebook near me I could hold my own. No, I hated her more because I was forced into her class and she couldn't let me slide just because I didn't want to be there. I mean, there was no slack at all for any of us, even the inexperienced.

But one day, my hatred for my dance teacher morphed into a surge of platonic love/idolization. And my hatred for dance would suddenly turn into this need to turn it (and my new awkward body) into my bitch. I had left my script in the changing room and needed to get it before practice started. My teacher had her own performance coming up and was practicing to Radiohead's 'exit music.' I had never seen anything like this. It was a story written by a body. One of pain and love and misery. One that spoke to my angsty soul. This was the first time that I cried in public. I mean it was really just her and I, but it was at school so I think it counts. I will still swear up and down to this day that there is no greater dancer than her. When she moves it's like you have to listen, not watch, listen. I wanted that, I wanted to be able to turn my stories into dances. If I couldn't have my creative writing class I'd turn dance into a new form of writing.

After that, I started spending all of my free time in that room. I was constantly practicing. I didn't care how badly bruised or bloody I was, I kept going. Dislocated my shoulder? Pop it in and keep moving, take some Advil later. But the real moment I knew that my dance teacher deserved all of my respect and idolization was a few things that would follow. When she realized that I was spending most of my time crashing on friends couches and didn't have money for lunch she would stash food for me. When she realized that I had horrible periods and would go through boxes each cycle she kept extra pads and tampons in the locker room for anyone along with a giant bottle of Midol. When I had been out for about two weeks because my father beat the shit out of me and nearly killed me and a teacher threatened to not allow makeup exams because 'it was my choice to not be in school' she must have realized something was up in my home because I'm not sure what was said or even how she knew but I've heard from various sources and all I can say is that in the middle of a class my dance teacher burst in and threatened that teacher into allowing me my makeup exams.

She might have ruled with an iron fist and spent most of time in class screaming AGAIN, MY GOD JUST DO WHAT I SHOWED YOU, AGAIN but she was most certainly the best adult I had ever known at that point. On some days after class, she would even listen to songs I was choosing to choreograph to and we would spend time talking about bands that she used to see and her favorite music. She had seen Type O and Nirvana live, she actually liked WhiteChapel and Tupac and she had all these really bizarre tastes in music just like me and my little weird goth girl who grew up in underprivileged neighborhood heart sang each time we made a musical match because no one listened to both metal and rap at that time and holy cow someone else thinks that Bone Thugs is great but also really digs Dolly Parton and MCR? I was sure that nothing could knock her off the pedestal in my heart I had made for her. Not even when I found out she smoked, or ate McDonalds constantly, or actually cussed like a sailor outside of school. No that just made her cooler and more human to me. That is...until I found out that she loved Twilight.

Now I had tried reading Twilight and I thought that comparing it to a flaming pile of garbage would be an insult to all landfills. I could see my world shatter around me. I had felt betrayed. Until later that night when I lay on yet another friend's couch recalling that moment. She had overheard me making a comment about how disgusting the book was. "Can you believe they're turning that shitshow into a movie?" Probably something about how the total audience IQ was lower than average combined and some other very very meanspirited bitchy stuff that still causes me pain today. And then swooped in my dance teacher from nowhere, "I like the books. I can't wait for the movie. Things don't always have to be good, or what you like. They can just be fun. You don't have to ruin it for others." Hours later I would realize that I had betrayed my dance teacher, not the other way around. I had done the very thing most people did to me, I shit all over one of the things she loved. And I felt sick. I actually went to class early with her favorite soda to awkwardly mumble out an apology and she just laughed and said not to worry, but I realized then that she was right.

Shitting all over a fandom makes you far, far shittier than however shitty you think the fandom is. Now listen, there are plenty of fandoms that I still internally go 'holy shit woah' but I will never, ever verbally say it. Because life is really short, and whatever you want to like, whatever gives you a second of joy even if it's the butt of every joke then who fucking cares? As long as no one else is being hurt because of it, then I say go for it. Listen, the older I've gotten the more I've realized that life just generally sucks. For the most part. That isn't the angsty teenager in me talking, that's the honest adult. It honestly does. But whatever small little thing that makes the cesspool of life seem interesting and it isn't hurting others in the process of enjoying it? Fucking awesome man! I'm happy for you! I'm glad you found something you like! And if someone shits all over whatever fandom you're in? Well, they're an asshole, and I hope that somehow they get stuck in my old dance class with my teacher so maybe at the very least she can scream in their face until they break.

#trigger warning #fandoms #wow this is really fucking long

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dallas-owns-my-ass · 6 years ago

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We’re In This Together (Roger Taylor x reader)

Summary: This is a really sad Roger Taylor one shot where he comforts the reader and it’s just a lot of sad fluff. (There’s also a little Freddie fluff in here too for all the musical prostitutes 😉)

Warnings: swearing (as always), self harm, depression, mentions of suicide, racism

Disclaimer: THIS IS NOT IN ANYWAY MEANT TO MAKE FUN OF, OR MOCK ANYONE WHO HAS A MENTAL ILLNESS. THIS IS JUST A STORY. IF YOU HAVE DEPRESSION OR SELF HARM, PLEASE GET HELP I’M BEGGING YOU. DON’T WAIT TILL IT’S TOO LATE.

So enjoy, I guess. —————————————————

It was just another sad day. Sad days that turn into sad weeks. Normally my depression would come for a couple weeks at time, and disappear for a few months. But this time, it didn’t. Maybe it was my friends unintentionally leaving me out. Unintentional or not, it still hurt like hell. Maybe it was the dissatisfaction of the reflection looking back at me from my beautiful golden framed mirror. At least the mirror was beautiful. Maybe it was the thought, the fear, that any day, my boyfriend, Roger, would find a better girl. A prettier girl. A nicer girl. One that would make him happier. One who wasn’t so self-conscious. Then where would I be? One of the two people who truly cared, leaving me. Maybe it was the constant hate towards my people. Ignorant racists, who wanted to keep all my people out of this country. Wishing them all dead. Stereotyping all of them as bad people. I wasn’t a bad person. Or maybe, it was my best friend, the legend Freddie Mercury, writing a song for me. Except this wasn’t a sweet love song, or a song about victory. This song was titled “Don’t Try Suicide”. And worse of all, he said in an interview, when asked who it was for, he said a close friend. So what did the press do, they looked at all of his close friends and picked the weakest to star in their horrible stories. Me. Roger never suspected anything. And when he did, I blew it off with stuff such as “oh you know how the paparazzi are” and “oh please, if I was you’d be the first to know”. And he bought it. Deep down I hated that he didn’t realize, but how could he? I lied right to his face. Maybe it was all of these things that led to me constantly dragging a razor across my skin.

Freddie knew as he caught me in the act of covering up my scars so I could wear one of what Roger called his favourite outfit on me. But the problem was it was a short sleeved knee-length dress.

-Flashback-

I was using a little bit of concealer to cover up the hideous marks on my left arm, reminding me of the disgusting person that I am, in an attempt to impress Roger on our date. What’s the point anyway? Just as my luck, my best friend Freddie walks in. “Darling, you look astonishing!” he exclaimed, as he always does. As he walked closer my heart rate increased. “Oh my, what happened to your arm. Your dog scratched you?” He asked while offering a friendly smile. I just looked down at the floor. And that’s when he realized. That the few red marks still exposed were, what they were. Marks of self-hatred. “Oh (Y/N), you should’ve told me.” Then the first tear rolled down my cheek. He didn’t need to say anything, he just pulled me into a hug. “Sshhh, it’s going be okay.” Freddie whispered into my ear. “I’m always here for you.” “P-please, don’t t-tell R-Roger.” I sobbed into his chest. “Sshhhh I won’t, but you have to promise...” releasing me from the hug, he grasped my soulders, forcing me to look into his eyes. “You have to try to stop. Please. It’s not good for you.” I nodded, still avoiding eye contact.

-End of Flashback-

Over time, with me lacking the ability to stop, Freddie got more forceful. Not only asking now, but in a way, threatening me. Daring to bring me to a psychologist, even once threatening to tell Roger, but he never did. Eventually he wrote the song for me. My thoughts were interrupted by the sound of a loud, familiar happy voice “Good afternoon doll!” Freddie exclaimed as he walked into my room. “How are you?” “I’m doing all right” I replied. (DOINNNNNN ALLLL RIGHTTTTTT). “Has it gotten any better?” He asked in a more serious, hushed tone. “How could it?” I mumbled as a looked at the ground. “Aww (Y/N) what is it now?” “It’s just” I said releasing a long breath “I’m tired of this. I’m tired of the paparazzi following me wherever I go. I’m tired of everything I do being a headline on some tabloid bullshit. It makes me feel like shit. And it pisses Roger off when he sees a headline where they write someone along the lines of ‘(Y/N) and Freddie’s discreet relationship’ or ‘(Y/N) and Brian’ or me and John, or for God’s sake me and some random person walking next to me. He gets so mad. And I- I think...” I took a deep breath “I think he’s going to leave me.” I said barely audible with tears now in my eyes. “Oh, (Y/N), that’s not true love” Freddie claimed pulling me into a hug. I was now full on crying. “But he can’t take it anymore, and neither can I.” I said between sobs. “Listen to me, and listen to me good. Roger bloody loves you, so much. He really does. Whenever you’re not around he talks about you. In the studios. At bars. Anywhere and everywhere. Once I even had to make Brian take a walk because he was getting so annoyed at the constant banter on a certain (E/C) eyed girl.” He said while tapping me in the nose. “You’re joking?” I said letting out a small giggle. “Not at all.” Freddie replied, smiling. “And you should see the sparkle in his eye when he does. I’ve only ever seen it with Romeo and Juliet, Hans and Leia, well you get the point.” He said beaming. “If you say so.” I replied giving him another hug. “Thank you so much. For everything.” I mumbled into his shirt. “Anything for my best friend.” He replied cliche. “But don’t tell Deaky I said that” he said with an overanimated wink.

—-Time Skip—-

Roger just got out of a long day at work, which resulted in us cuddling in the Queen-sized (another 1/2 Queen reference in a Queen fanfic) bed. I was laying on his chest, with his hand tangled in my hair and his faced buried in it. I always enjoyed this position, as I could hear his heartbeat. He seemed sad but I didn’t know why, maybe he saw something in the news or press. “Why didn’t you tell me?” Roger asked. “Tell you what?” I asked moving my face so the tips of our noses were touching, granting me a perfect view of his perfect blue eyes. “About you” He answered. I had a feeling if where this was going, that lying, evil, bastard told him, the love of my life, my biggest secret. “I’m not sure what you’re talking about love” I replied, moving my hand to play his hair. “Yes you do” he grabbed my wrist, me flinching in the process. “Why? Did you not trust me?” He asked rolling over and sitting up. “How would you feel, one day, finding out, from a friend, that the love of your life, was harming herself?” He walked over to the dresser and grabbed a pair of scissors. “Was doing something like this to themselves?” He raised the blade to his wrist. “No stop, please.” I begged rushing over to him. But it was too late. I saw his jaw clench as the edge of the scissor left a fresh mark on his perfect skin. He raised his arm to do it again. But I grabbed him. “R-roger, please don’t do this.” I begged, now fully crying. “WHAT, DOES THIS MAKE YOU FEEL BETTER? PUTTING YOURSELF IN DANGER? HURTING THE PEOPLE AROUND YOU BY DOING T-THIS TO YOURSELF?!!” he yelled, his voice cracking at the end. “ROGER STOP!” I yelled back “Y-you don’t understand.” I said releasing his arm sliding down to the floor, finally breaking down. “Y-you, you don’t understand what it’s like to see all the other girls flirting with you in bars, when all the girls are prettier than you, and would be so much better for you, Roger. You don’t understand what it’s like to have people calling you names, making fun of you 24/7, calling you such t-twisted things, and after a while you start to believe them. You don’t understand what it’s like to look in the mirror and see something of no value, be-because y-you you wouldn’t, you’re perfect. You’re beautiful and talented and the sweetest m-most sincere person I have ever, ever met. And you’ll n-never, never get it.” I finished, erupting into full sobs. “Hey, it’s going to be okay.” He whispered sliding next to be and engulfing me in the biggest, tightest hug, I’ve ever been in. “Listen to me, you’re none of those things. Why do you think I always turn all those other girls down? Because I know, that when I come home I’m going to be with the most beautiful, amazing, sweetest, intelligent, and perfect girl in the world. And that girl is you. You’re my world and I wouldn’t want it any other way. I can’t stop thinking about you. Everything I do, there’s a thought of you present. I’m sorry that I didn’t realise sooner. And I’m sorry that you have to deal with all of those nasty people and their disgusting comments. But I need you to understand that none of them are true. You’re perfect. Every inch of you. And if we have to work on you learning to see what I see in you than so be it. Because we’re in this together. I promise. I’m here for you, always, understand?” He asked and I nodded into his toned chest. I looked into his round, blue eyes. “Roger Meddows Taylor, I fucking love you.” “(Y/F/N) (Y/M/N) (Y/L/N) I love you too.” Roger replied kissing me sweetly. He grabbed my hand, and led me into the bed. We both layed down and he pulled my head onto his chest. He started singing a sweet melody:

“There are beautiful girls, all over the world. I could be chasing, but my time would be wasted. They got nothing on you baby. Nothing on you baby. They might say hi, and I might say hey, but you shouldn’t worry about what they say. Cause they got nothing on you baby.”

And that was the last thing I heard before I fell asleep.

—————————————————

So, what did you think of that? I feel like it touched on a few sensitive topics, but the fluff in the end wasn’t too bad in my opinion.

MoonwalkWithUs

#rogertaylorfanfiction

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hopeishappinessff · 6 years ago

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Holding Onto Hope: Chapter 50.1

Chris

Life was becoming normal for me. Well… almost. I was still living at home, of course, under the care of my mother. She’d somehow managed to become so much more comfortable with me being home though, and that’s what made things feel normal. My nights were usually spent next door with Hope and if I wasn’t there, there was no question that she was with me at my mom’s house. Not a single night since she’d been home from school had gone by that I didn’t sleep by her side. We’d even been talking more often about the possibility of getting a place together for the sake of our new little family, but I knew that idea was farfetched… and I definitely wasn’t ready to pitch it to my mom.

These days had really been some of the best of my life. My episodes were rare, but I can’t say that they were completely nonexistent. But I was learning to cope with this new diagnosed lifestyle and I felt like I’d finally manned up enough to admit that I had a mental illness, but… that didn’t make me any different than I was before. I would always be Chris and through my own home therapy with my mom, Hope, and every single loved one in my small circle, I was steadily coming to terms with it all. Because… my real therapist was no help to me.

My eyes cut in her direction, because I’d literally been sitting there staring at the clock on the wall for the past five minutes. I honestly forgot the lady was there, and that I was even in her office, and that I was in the middle of a mandatory therapy session. That clock on the wall though, it’d quickly become my favorite piece of décor in her office… I’d have to figure out how to get my hands on one when Hope and I got our first place, because it was really nice…

“Christopher?” The way she said my name was meant to get my attention, but all it really did was annoy me.

“Yes?”

“Why are you here today?”

Turning my head so that I was facing her directly, I stared at her blankly while my right foot tapped lightly against the floor “Because I have to be.”

She sighed through her nose, as she always tended to do because I always tended to irritate her.

“But why?”

My brows furrowed and my lips curled into a frown… what the hell type of question was that?

“Because… I have… to be.”

Dr. Stevenson shook her head and pulled her too dark and too thick for her pale face glasses away from her eyes and sighed, again. That was three times in the past minute… I must have been striking a chord today… I smirked at the thought.

“If you are refusing to speak to me, refusing to give me any insight on your life since you’ve been home with your mother and family, refusing to cooperate at all… why are you here?”

I full out chuckled then and it was my turn to shake my head “I’m not even really sure if I’m supposed to answer that.”

“It is a simple question.”

“And it’s a simple solution,” I said, calmly of course, as I continued to frown at her, “Maybe if you ask me real questions, I’ll give you some answers.”

I’d been sitting in the lady’s office for all of fifteen minutes now, but take a wild guess at how many real questions she’d asked me… none. See why despised her? The question of how she managed to become certified in this profession never failed to cross my mind every time I had to face her, and today was no exception. Almost every time I met with her, she’d do the same thing… greet me… because she had to, check my prescription chart to ensure I’d been taking my dosages accordingly… because she had to, and sit there staring at me waiting for the miracle of me sparking a conversation with her to happen… my only assumption for that was because she was dumb.

Her cheeks went rosy after that and I chuckled once more and shook my head. It really didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out how to have a damn conversation. I wonder how Dr. Yates was doing…

“I’m not even confident that if I ask you questions, you’ll even respond.” Hmm… she sounded, defeated? I stared at her as she slowly slumped back in her chair and used the index finger and thumb of her left hand to massage at her forehead.

“The only way you’ll find out is if you ask… don’t you think?” I think she may have rolled her eyes at that one, but her hand was still halfway covering her face so I wasn’t too sure.

“How is your son?” She asked after a full minute of getting herself together.

“He’s great. Haven’t really been able to see him as much as I’d like, but he’s doing good though.” I said. I swear you could see her body visibly relax… she was tense and wasn’t expecting a response from me. For the first time since I’d been in her office today, she reached for her expensive looking pen beside the blank notepad and began to write.

“Have you been busy lately or… is there a specific reason you haven’t been able to see him?”

“I’m uh… dealing with a few issues with his mother right now.”

“Issues like what, if you don’t mind me asking?”

My eyes wandered back to the clock at the top of the wall to my left… I wished that I hadn’t opened that can of worms for myself. I didn’t know how comfortable I felt speaking on that particular subject with Dr. Stevenson. It was a sensitive one for me because the lack of time I got to spend with Jaylen honestly made me feel like a low life father and I hated that feeling. The last time I’d seen him was on my birthday and that felt like forever ago. In reality it was only a little more than two weeks, but that was far too long for a father to go without seeing his child. A good father anyway, which is what I was trying to be but Gabby just insisted on making that difficult for me.

“I don’t have the best relationship with her.” I mumbled, eyes still glued to the clock.

“But why would that prevent you from seeing your son?”

I sighed. She was really starting to ask too many questions… or maybe I just wasn’t prepared to have to answer questions about this particular topic.

“I don’t know, she’s spiteful I guess…”

I could feel a steady vibration in the left pocket of my jeans and any other time I probably would have ignored it for the sake of not arguing with this lady, but because Hope was getting so close to the end of her pregnancy I made it a point to stay alert at all times.

Dr. Stevenson went on to open a whole new topic about spitefulness and I think she may have said something about communication and me being a part of the problem, which would have pissed me off… had I not seen Destani’s name lit up on my phone screen.

“Hello?” I greeted her, not even bothering to excuse myself from the session.

“Hey Chris, are you busy?” She sounded out of breath and I could tell she was outside somewhere, then I heard a car door close.

“I’m in Annandale right now. Why, what’s up?” I could feel Dr. Stevenson’s stare piercing the side of my face, but she was the least of my concerns. Something had to be wrong for Destani to be calling me and I was too focused on remaining composed enough to get down to the bottom of it.

“Um… I’m heading to the hospital with my mom…” “What happened Destani? Where is Hope? Is she in labor?” The questions were shooting out of my mouth like bullets and I hadn’t even realized I was standing and on my way to the door now and Dr. Stevenson was lingering wearily beside her desk staring at me.

“No, she’s not in labor…” She paused and my heart sank to the soles of my feet, “There was an accident.”

I don’t exactly recall what happened in the following five seconds, but the phone call, Dr. Stevenson, and her entire office were all completely disregarded as I bolted from that room. I could hear her behind me yelling out my name, but my feet wouldn’t allow me to stop or even slow down. Not even long enough to inform my mom that we needed to go. Thank God she’d been just as alert as I during this last half of Hope’s pregnancy, because she didn’t utter a single word but I heard her pattering feet right behind me as I flew like Usain Bolt to the car.

I had the keys in my pocket, but before I could even get the door open my mom snatched them out and pushed me toward the passenger side of the car.

“Let me get us there baby, you need to calm down.” She huffed, plopping down in the driver’s seat and cranking the car all within about a second. I wasn’t gonna argue with her, I knew I didn’t need to drive with the burst of adrenaline coursing through my veins, because I’d more than likely crash this car right into a ditch somewhere.

I didn’t know what to think, what to say, what to do. We were so far away, a whole damn hour and a half, and that left me entirely too much time to think about the what if’s. I hung up on Destani too quick to get a straight answer as to what was wrong, but all I did know was that there had been an accident… but what kind of accident? That could mean anything… shit, shit, shit, shit.

My right leg bounced furiously and my chest started to heave to the point that I was actually becoming breathless. My mom kept chanting that I needed to calm down and she said something about having my pills in her purse, but I was trembling too hard to grab them. I think I was having an anxiety attack, or a panic attack… or shit, maybe a heart attack.

“Fuck!” I yelled, startling my mom I’m sure because she gasped and I felt the car swerve slightly.

“Chris, please…” “What if she lost the baby? Ma, what if Hope lost the baby?” I wheezed, because of course now I was crying. My mind was struggling to get me to calm down, but that’s the exact opposite of what was happening.

“Listen to me Christopher, you’re thinking the worst and you don’t even know what’s going on. You need to stay calm until we get there.” She said, surprisingly calmly.

How the hell was I supposed to stay calm for another hour? How? I stared at the side of my mom’s face and held my breath because I could feel an outburst coming. It felt like the Incredible Hulk was clawing at the inside of my chest trying to get out, so I quickly shut my eyes and turned my head toward my window. My mom didn’t do a damn thing wrong, at all, and there I was about to take every ounce of my wrath out on her because I didn’t know what was going on with Hope.

I managed… somehow… I managed. I put myself on a mental lockdown for the duration of the ride, forced myself to stay still and quiet and I shut my thoughts off completely. My tears had since subsided, because I also kept my eyes closed, but they were brewing and waiting for the perfect opportunity to make their debut. My mom hummed softly to some song on the radio and that helped me maintain my sanity. It reminded me of when I was a kid for some reason and that made me think of life before all this chaos and turmoil. Life was sweet then, I was probably just as fucked up in the head back then, but at least I could pretend like I wasn’t.

Thank God we didn’t cross paths with any cops on the road because my mom did about a hundred the whole way and we got there in record time. I could feel a dull pain in my chest as she pulled into a parking space outside of the ER and turned the car off. I wasn’t even ready to open my eyes and face reality, but I knew I couldn’t run from it either. I didn’t know what to expect once we set foot in that building and for a person like me, I didn’t need to be caught off guard by anything that could potentially trigger me in anyway.

“It’s okay Chris… I promise you, it’s okay.” I didn’t even notice my mom standing right beside me with my door open. I was still sitting in the car with my fists balled up in my lap and my chest heaving again. My eyes were aimed out the front windshield, but I couldn’t even see anything because my thoughts were too all over the place for me to really focus.

“Come on baby, mama’s got you.” I listened to the sound of her voice. I let it lull me out of the car and I quietly trailed along beside her to the front sliding glass doors. I couldn’t bring myself to make eye contact with the lady behind the information desk, but I heard her as she directed my mom to the maternity ward…

Hope

Chris told me that he had a therapy session this morning, so I figured today would be the perfect day to pay a visit to the mother of his son. As discussed, Destani came along for the ride and she attempted to hype me up the whole way there, but I insisted that it wasn’t going to be that type of visit and I didn’t let her get to me. I honestly only wanted to speak to Gabby woman to woman and my goal was to keep the conversation as clean as possible.

“Girl, I’m telling you… I don’t know why you won’t let me roll up on that bitch and knock her ass out. I have no problem dropping her ass right there in her mama’s face.” Destani exclaimed, clapping her hands for added dramatics. With a sigh, I shook my head and frowned. I was beginning to regret bringing her along for this trip.

“Dez please, it’s not about that, okay. I have to co-exist with this girl because she’s a part of my boyfriend’s life. I don’t need to go creating unnecessary drama with her.”

“What you mean create unnecessary drama with her? That girl created drama with you the moment she decided to go get knocked up by your nigga.”

“Seriously Destani?”

“Seriously Destani my ass. Look, homegirl has one time to even look like she’s coming at you sideways and I’m laying that ass out. End of story.”

I rolled my eyes and decided at that moment to turn the radio up and let her ramble to herself. The way Destani was trying to go about the entire situation was petty and uncalled for. There was absolutely no way I was going to set foot on this girls property to deliberately cause problems with her and the closer we got to her house, the more I seriously contemplated dropping Destani off at the nearest corner and just coming back for her on my way out.

Following along to the sound of the GPS on my phone, I slowly pulled along the curb outside the house and put the car in park before turning down the radio.

Turning to face Destani, I rolled my eyes yet again and sighed at the sight of her sitting back with her arms crossed and the most aggravated frown on her face.

“Can you please just wait here for me Dez? I promise I won’t be long.”

“Sy, I’m telling you…”

“Destani, please?”

She sighed through her nose, rolled her eyes and turned to glare at me with a squinted stare “Do what you gotta do, I’ll stay in here. But you come out looking even the slightest bit upset, I’m striking.”

I smiled at her, thanked her for her cooperation, and made my way out of the car. I was nearly out of breath by the time I stood on both feet just outside the door of the car, but I gave myself a few seconds to compose myself before shutting the door. I made the short trek around the back of my car and up the driveway, quietly coaxing myself to remain calm. I would never admit it to Destani, but I was perhaps more pissed off than she was and somewhere deep inside I could feel the anticipation for Gabby to open the door so I could slap the living daylights out of her… but I was determined to keep a poker face and stay calm.

It’d been about ten seconds since I’d rang the doorbell and I didn’t want to be rude and ring it again, but my patience was nearly nonexistent now a days. Another ten seconds passed and I huffed an annoyed breath through my nose and rolled my eyes, preparing to ring it again. And just as I raised my hand, I could hear the sound of the locks releasing and finally the intricate wooden door on the other side of the glass screen slid open and I was greeted by the beaming face of Gabby’s mother.

“Oh carino, how are you?” She squealed excitedly as if she were really that thrilled to see me. From what I knew about Mrs. Jimenez, which wasn’t much at all, she was indeed a very kind hearted woman with a genuine soul. I’d encountered the lady less than a handful of times, but she always seemed to wear a constant smile and she exuded happiness that instantly forced anyone around her to smile. So I did just that… I grinned at her and stepped forward into her embrace when she swung the glass door open.

“I’m good Mrs. Jimenez, how are you?” I was overwhelmed by her sweetness and completely taken aback when she gently snatched me by my arm and tugged me into the house behind her.

“I’m wonderful mi hija. Come in, come in… it’s muy caliente and carino, Lord knows you don’t need to be in that sun.”

She was speaking in and out of Spanish and I wasn’t completely sure of half of what she said, but I giggled nonetheless and trailed along behind her into her overly decorated living room. Following her lead, I eased down onto the plush love seat beside her and stilled my face as she invaded my space and leaned close to grab my hands.

“Carino, you are muy bonita. Congratulations to you… I’m so happy for you and Christopher.” She beamed.

“Thank you so much Mrs. Jimenez. I really appreciate that.”

“So, what brings you by today hija? Did you wanna pay Mr. Jaylen a visit? I just put him down for a nap, but it should be no hay problema to get him back down…” The lady literally made a move to rise from her seat, obviously to go retrieve Jaylen and I quickly shook my head with a frown… even if I was coming to visit the baby, why on earth would she purposely wake him from a nap?

“Oh no ma’am, you don’t have to disturb him. I was actually hoping to speak with Gabby, if she’s home.”

In that instant, I could see the hesitation on her face. Her smile faltered and she made a move to sit back down beside me, but she finally sighed and batted her eyes wearily.

“Well, she uh… she was just getting herself ready for work. I’m sure she should have a minute to speak with you.”

As if on cue, I heard shuffling feet coming down the stairs and moments later, I heard the voice of the devil herself and my eyes rolled on their own accord.

“Mama, tango hambre. Estas cocinando o no…” She stopped short, from my presence I was sure, and I slowly turned in my seat to face her. She looked shocked, to say the least, and though I felt triumphant from the expression on her face alone, I maintained my poker face and smiled at her.

“Hi Gabby.” Her eyes darted to her mother’s, inquisitively obviously, and I took a moment to take in her tight sundress and exaggerated makeup that didn’t really look like any work ensemble I’d ever seen… not a regular day job anyway. I was sure, in that moment, that her mother had indeed tried to cover for her crooked daughter, but I couldn’t fault her... she was probably fully aware of just how many enemies the girl had and felt compelled to try to protect her.

“What are you doing here?” She asked.

“Well if you aren’t busy, I was hoping maybe we could talk.” Still smiling sweetly, I stared at her waiting for her to respond… and daring her to say no.

Discreetly, or so she thought, she rolled her eyes and sighed “Well since you’re already here…”

I barely waited for her to complete her sentence… I was already pushing myself up from the too soft cushion of the couch as fast as my belly would allow.

She didn’t expect that, surely she didn’t and that was clear by the look on her face. According to Chris, she’d been informed that I was pregnant but she’d either forgotten or didn’t believe it to be true at all. She didn’t even try to shift her gaze. Her eyes were hot on my belly as I waddled closer to her and not once did she bother to look away. I had an uneasy feeling about her relentless stare, but I shook it off and slowed down the closer I got to her. Barely snapping out of it, she finally turned and shifted off toward the table in what looked to be the nook off in the furthest corner of the kitchen.

“How can I help you Sy’Diyah?” She asked, with a smile… a sarcastic smile that made me cringe.

“Well for starters Gabby, how are you?” As I’d told myself over and over again, this conversation would remain tasteful and classy, so what better way to break the ice than briefly catching up.

She stared at me, well glared really, long and hard then tilted her head slightly and twisted her lips into a half smirk “Let’s be real right now girl, you’re not here to check in on me and you could give a damn less about how I’ve been.” Chortling lightly through my nose, I shook my head and sighed “I’m just trying to keep it cordial here Gabby. I’m not here to start any drama with you… just being polite.”

“Well then what the fuck are you here for?”

Her pot was beginning to boil, if it hadn’t already started, and I was pushing her buttons… I could tell. Seeing as her mother wasn’t too far from us in the other room, I was hoping the girl wouldn’t get too riled up and alert the lady.

“I just want to talk. Woman to woman… that’s it.”

With a scoff, she reached up to shift her hair back out of her face and straightened her posture “I don’t know about that. We can talk… female to female.”

I had no reason to entertain her pettiness, though I wanted so desperately to stretch across the table top and snatch her face right down onto it, again… I maintained my composure, and disregarded her comment altogether.

“Well, Gabby, I’m sure you know that I know about Chris’s recent visit a few weeks ago to see Jaylen. And I know that you found out about my pregnancy and firstly, I wanted to come to you as a woman to let you know face to face that yes… I am pregnant with his daughter.”

Her face was blank and uninterested, but her skin was red… the hue was rising right from her neck. She was mad, but she tried to give a calm and apathetic façade, which I almost laughed at.

“And why would you feel like it was relevant to share that with me, Sy’Diyah?”

“I just thought maybe you’d like to know, seeing as you’re the mother of his first born and we’ll kinda have to interact at some point throughout life. You’re not going anywhere anytime soon, nor am I, and I just wanted us to both have a clear understanding.”

“Okay… I understand. I birthed his first child and I’m not going nowhere anytime soon. Anything else you’d like to discuss?”

The way her attitude oozed so bluntly and disgustingly… I had to shut my eyes briefly and smile. She was making it nearly impossible for me to keep my cool, but I would be out of her hair soon enough so after tilting my head and opening my eyes into deadly slits, I stared at her.

“I’d also like to address the way you treated Chris when he was here.”

Again, she scoffed, and now she suddenly wore a peeved and almost repulsed expression as she glared at me “Oh, did he run back and snitch to you? He must have gotten his feelings hurt… I’m sorry.”

“Gabby, listen…” “No you listen perra, you are not his mother. I don’t need you here in my face addressing me as if he’s some child that you’re speaking on behalf of. If he wants to talk about what the fuck happened, he needs to come address me like a man.”

“Gabby, you need to calm down…”

“No, you don’t get to come to my house, telling me what to do. You came to me right? You calm down azada estúpida … what happens between me and him has nothing to do with you.”

I said I was going to stay calm and classy. I swore I was. I’d convinced myself from the day Chris shared all of this with me until just a few seconds ago that I would maintain a poker face and not lose my cool. But what’d she’d just said… struck the perfect chord…

“No Gabby, you calm the hell down,” I exclaimed, pushing back in my chair to prepare myself to stand up and go head up with this girl if I had to, “There is no fucking business between you and Chris. You share a son… that’s it. I’ll be damned if you think, for one, you have any type of private business with my boyfriend, and two… you can degrade him whenever you feel like it.”

“Oh hell no, who the fuck do you think you’re yelling at puta!” She was on her feet now and though it took me two seconds longer than her, I managed to get up onto my swollen feet almost just as quickly.

“I told you I wasn’t here to start any drama or fight with you, but you will not disrespect my got damn family like that. He is a human fucking being and for you to sit there and speak to him as if he was the scum beneath your feet, and to have the audacity to threaten to keep his son away from him… that’s disgusting Gabby, really fucking disgusting. And I know one thing… the only reason you even thought to speak to him so disrespectfully, is because you’re mad that he’s my man, bitch.”

Before I knew it, the girl was blazing around the edge of the table toward me, but I didn’t back down… I stepped toward her psychotic ass and waited for her to get closer so I could slap her.

“What is going on!” Her mother shrieked, suddenly bursting into the room and moving quickly toward her daughter who’d gotten right in my face.

I lost my focus when I glanced at the lady, which was a huge mistake on my part, because in the next instant I felt my head being snatched hard to the left and I gasped as a simultaneous thread of pain shot through my lower abdomen. Like an intense lightning bolt, the pain jolted from the bottom of my stomach and crept through my entire body, rendering me motionless. I felt like a stone statue, completely frozen in time… unable to release even a scream from the horrific pain surging through every inch of my body.

“Sy’Diyah, sweetheart?” Mrs. Jimenez rushed to my side and grabbed ahold of my arm and her touch alone seemed to reignite me and I suddenly lost the strength in my legs and grew nauseous all at once.

“Oh my God.” I managed to yelp just before the rush of tears came.

“Gabriela, call 911… go, now!”

Her stupid daughter continued to stand there staring wide eyed with her mouth hanging open and if I weren’t simply dying from some random foreign pain, I would have jumped up and knocked her out for snatching my hair the way she had. But that was something to worry about at a later time. Now… now I could only pray that I wasn’t about to go into labor right there on their kitchen floor.

TBC...

#chrisbrown #chrisbrownff #chrisbrownfanfic #jasminesanders #chrisbrownfanfiction #jasminesandersff #teambreezy #teambreezyff #fanfiction #fanfic

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purplesurveys · 6 years ago

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382

-What was the last song that you sang out loud? I played a Destiny’s Child playlist when we were out for a bit earlier so I was most likely rapping along to Bug A Boo before we got home. -If someone has bad breath, do you tell him or her? I don’t think I can. I’d rather just not have my face directly on them when talking. -With which friend are you most likely to share a secret? Angela. She knows e v e r y t h i n g. -Do you have an item that comforts you when you are sad/scared? My...phone? Haha. If I get anxious I need to watch videos to distract me. My phone has YouTube. Also bracelets that Gabie has given me over the years. -When are you likely to hide your emotions? When I’m with people that don’t really know about my anxiety. People I’m not close to, in general.

-Which is scarier: Dying of thirst or of starvation? I think both are equally terrifying??? Both put the body in immense pain and it goes through a slow, agonizing shutdown and I don’t even want to think about experiencing other lol. -Who was the last person to take your breath away? MY GIRLFRIEND -When you turn on the TV, what channel do you flip to? Probably a movie channel but I legit have not watched television in yearssss. I watch everything on Netflix now. -Have you ever tried to help someone quit smoking? No. -What was the last comment someone made on your music taste? I don’t have much of a music taste so it’s not really something people tend to make comments on. -Where do you go/what do you do when you need to calm down? My room. Or to my best friends. -What was the last mess you cleaned up? I had a stack of readings and stationery scattered all over the dining table last night when I was studying, so I cleaned everything up before going to bed. -Have you ever had to talk anyone out of suicide? Yes I had to talk to Toby because he made a series of disturbing tweets a couple of weeks ago. We aren’t close per se, but he’s an orgmate and therefore a friend, so I messaged him immediately. I’m happy it worked, cos he showed up to school the next day and gave me a bear hug. -When you think of tomorrow, what feelings come to mind? Work. -Who, in your opinion, has an amazing voice? Hannah sings a lot, and I really like it when she does because she sounds great. -Would you ever camp out on a beach, under the stars? Of course.

-What is the last thing you complained about? I need a printer to print out my readings (I absolutely cannot study from an e-book) but ours has been broken for years and there’s no Internet/printing shop nearby. UGH I’m serious about complaining over not being able to study haha. -What was the last curse-word you said? Fuck. -When you fake sick to get out of school, what do you say or do to convince your parents that you are sick? I would never fake sick to my Asian mom. -How did you recover from your last bout of tears? I slept. As is always the most effective way to stop crying. -Do you still talk to your very first best friend? Yes. I talked to her last night. -When was the last time something went terribly wrong? Well a couple of weeks ago Gab and I had a huge, really serious fight that had just been unfixable–it was the kind of fight that you just had to wait. And the wait was torture. I was really scared then and I stayed in bed for what was probably 48 hours and ate like two times in that period. -How do you console someone when he or she is upset? I stay with them and listen to them if they have to let things out. -Have you ever seen either one of your parents cry? Just my mom. I don’t know what I’d do if I saw my dad cry. -Choose one: Trip to outerspace, or trip underneath the oceans? OUTER SPACE. I’d do anything to have a glimpse into my astronaut dream. -How often do you feel overwhelmed? 7 days a week. -How do you deal with everyday life? Get by. Aren’t we all forced to? -Do you have any secret obsessions or guilty pleasures? I don’t think so. I’m never guilty of whatever it is I’m obsessing at the moment haha. I am into serial killers, like reading and watching docus about them; and obviously I never announce it the world unless it comes up in conversation. -Aside from on this survey, what was the last thing you wrote about? I was writing down notes on my readings from my Southeast Asian history class. -Who in your family do you act like the most? I’m a mix of my mom and dad. I seriously can’t tell you who I act more like. There are certain phrases my mom says that I say, and certain intonations and mannerisms I got from my dad. -What is the most romantically sweet thing someone has done for you? I’m into intimate, more between-the-two-of-you kind of stuff, so I always appreciate it when Gab volunteers to drive my car if I ever drink a little bit too much for the night. She helps me get to bed and gets me some clothes to wear too, which is always sweet.

-When you go out to the mall, do people stare? Not me, but my girlfriend and I obviously will get stares from time to time for holding hands. -Have you ever been confronted by a mall cop for your behavior? No. -What just tears at your heartstrings? Videos of dogs reuniting with their owners, abused dogs getting saved and all groomed up, or dogs getting adopted. -Is there a show you swear that you will never watch? GAME OF THRONES -What was the last topic that you ranted about? The lack of a printer that I delved on several survey questions ago. -Is there someone that makes you feel like you're walking on eggshells? Jane lol. She’s the president of our org and will easily get pissed the fuck off sometimes, and it never does my anxiety any good. -Were you ever afraid of one of your past teachers? Yes. We had this monster of a PE teacher in 2nd grade who would literally kick down doors if she gets angry and would yell at 8 year olds. How she ever got employed in the first place still baffles me. -Have you ever been in a physical fight on school grounds? That’s a huuuuuge no-no in our school, so no. Plus I came from an all-girls’ Catholic school; it just wasn’t in anyone’s nature to pick a fight. -Have you written anything in a bathroom stall? What, if anything? No, I feel so iffy about vandalizing in public. -Is your school like the drama capital of the country? HAHAHAHAHAHHAAHAHAHAHAHAHA. You can say that, damn. -A homeless man asks you for 50 cents; how do you respond? I give them a little more and a snack if I had any. -When was the last time you visited a thrift store? I don’t remember. I don’t think I have? -Was there ever a time when you wished you'd never been born? Always. I didn’t even choose to be born lol. -Can you handle constructive criticism? Uhhhhhh only if it’s from someone I truly respect. Otherwise I can honestly be a big baby about criticism. -Who is the most sensitive person that you know? ME. Also one of my friends, Mils. -Have you ever had a tooth (or teeth) pulled? Nope. -You can have one famous person's wardrobe; who do you choose, and why? Kate’s!!! She dresses so well and looks pretty in all of her outfits. -When was the last time you wrote someone a note? I think December? Aya was down in the dumps pretty bad so I dropped her a short message on Facebook to let her know that I’m always around for her. -Do you tell your parents before you go somewhere, or just leave? I ask permission. Duh. I’m Asian. -What was the last thing you tried to get out of doing? Agatha’s birthday party. She’s a good friend, but I’m not friends with any of her friends and I just can’t relate with the college block we both belong to. I scheduled a date with Gabie’s dad on the same night because I didn’t want to go to the party. -On average, how many surveys do you fill out in one day? If I had a lot of time, I could fill out three. Nowadays it’s like once a day/a couple of times a week. -How many hours a day do you spend on Bzoink? I don’t stay on Bzoink; I just go on there to look for surveys. -Which season do you dread the most? I hate Philippine summers. -Do you ever brag about your achievements? Oh god never. I hate putting any attention on me. -If someone makes fun of you, are you able to laugh it off? Tbh no, I’m pretty sensitive and serious in that aspect. I mean I’d smile to be polite but will most likely be whispering something evil about them in my head hahahaha. -When was the last time that you watched the sun come up? Three years ago, in Sagada. -What did you do last Halloween? I think I went out with Gab that day, but it wasn’t to celebrate Halloween. -Last Thanksgiving? -Last Christmas - if you celebrate? I like how Christmas has the *if you celebrate* disclaimer but the North American-centric Thanksgiving doesn’t. Anyway, we had several family dinners and we ate and drank and caught up with one another. -How did you celebrate the arrival of the new year? Also saw some relatives and ate and drank and bonded with my cousins. -Is there a foreign culture you'd like to learn more about? I’d like to know more about all of them if I had the time and the chance. -Have you ever (purposely or accidentally) played with someone's heart? I possibly might’ve with Mike but I don’t want to be an ass and assume. -Has anyone ever played with yours? Sure, you can say that. -Have you ever seen a famous painting and thought "I could have done that?” Not famous, but expensive ones. The ones that are paint splatters hah. -Fire drills: Did you ever wish they were real ... just once? LOL YES. I’m terrible for thinking that but yes. Mostly because everyone was such kids about it and never took the drills seriously. I secretly wanted a real one to happen just to see those people regret not being any more serious.

-What is the scariest thing about attending your school? Nothing’s scary about UP. If you’re scared to be in UP you can’t survive in it. -Are you a good judge of other people's intentions? Meh. I can tell sometimes. What was the last thing that you felt strongly about? I’m not so sure, it’s been a while. -Shopping: best with friends, parents, bf/gf, or alone? Girlfriend. -What is one insecurity you have about your body? Teeth. -What is one part of your body that you are proud of? My overall figure. -When was the last time someone told you to turn your music down? Ages ago. I’m getting old myself and don’t want my music too loud lmfao. -When you don't know how to spell a word, do you look it up? Yes, of course. -Are you one to spend a lot of time in the bathroom? Nope. I hate making people wait. -Have you seen the movie Super Size Me? No. -Do you still eat at McDonald's, regardless of that film? I’d probably continue eating at any fast food establishment even if I watch a billion documentaries exposing them, being completely honest. -Have you ever wondered what it would be like to be a different race? Sometimes. -Do you ever consider the challenges other races go through? Of course. Except for one snowflake race out there, lol. -When was the last time you doubted your abilities? Now? -At your favorite restaurant, what do you order? I don’t pick favorite restaurants. -What was the last thing you wished for? A DAMN PRINTER. -How many times a day, on average, do you look at the time? Too many. I’m perpetually impatient.

#survey #surveys

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star-crossedfidelity · 7 years ago

Text

Juliet’s Story: A Mistress’s Gift

Mun!Yuki: It is now April 20th for me! :D HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO JULIET!!!! I’m honestly happy with how this story turned out. Because while Leon’s story was more of his optimism, This is mostly in-depth of Juliet’s character where I even explored writing different sides of her; Sides that she doesn’t even show to others except for Leon. This is now my chance to show more of Juliet’s character, and how this affects Juliet as she grew up; Unlike Hisoka, Juliet was born and raised with a normal childhood, without having to bear the responsibilities of being an heiress to the Kuroi family. PLUS THIS WAS LITERALLY 16 PAGES LONG! XD I’M HONESTLY PROUD OF THIS!

I hope you all enjoy! AND HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO MY SADISTIC MISTRESS!!!!!! XD

WARNING: THIS HAS SENSITIVE TOPICS SUCH AS BULLYING, STRONG LANGUAGE/SWEARING, VIOLENCE, AND ANGST!!!!

“Here you go, Jules!”

Juliet reached for her order from the Takoyaki stand. “Thanks, Kirishima.” She gave the man, Kirishima, the payment before enjoying her Takoyaki. “Anything for a regular! How’s your folks?” Kirishima asked. “They’re doing fine; Leon is in the process of recovering this year’s Prank.” Juliet replied as she continued to eat her Takoyaki. “Man, I heard about that; I feel bad for the guy, he’s such a good kid.” Juliet simply agreed, “Yup.”

Then there came the question.

“Hey, I don’t mean to get personal when I ask this, but isn’t your birthday coming soon?” The owner asked. “Yeah, on the 20th; About four days before my father’s.” Juliet stopped eating her Takoyaki as she sensed this conversation might become important.

“What do you wanna get for you birthday?”

Juliet looked at him questioningly. “Why do you ask?” She eyed suspiciously. “Because you’ve done so much for my family, not only have you come to our business so often as a regular, you also help babysitting the kids. Seriously, most babysitters would quit on the first day with them, but they really like you, and you even present yourself as a good example and actually take care of them.”

Juliet continued to eye him suspiciously, which made the man laugh. “I know, you rather cut your own tongue than to be assumed to be a softie; Don’t worry, I’m not assuming that considering the fact I know you and what you are capable of; But that still won’t stop my family and I from speaking fondly of you, unlike the others that think otherwise; You’re not a bad kid.”

Juliet’s blue orbs soften from the better understanding.

It’s true.

When she was 12 years old and was ordering a Takoyaki as a regular already, Juliet noticed the tension from the man, whom explained that a new babysitter quit last minute and they became worried as their children were rather wild. At the time Juliet needed money and something to do to get out of the house other than physical training and studying all day indoors, was already being homeschooled so there was no school rules applied to her about against having a job on the side, and had a lot of experience taking care of Leon growing up, so she offered to be their new babysitter. They were hesitant, but since they had no other choice, they accepted. After the first night, it was difficult at first, but Juliet ended up having them listen and do as she said. In the end, The Kirishima’s hired Juliet as their babysitter, resulting them to be good family friends, and now their children, for what ever reason, loved and admired her greatly; It was probably because Juliet refrained showing her sadistic traits and posed as the reliable big sister that she sincerely has been when pushing aside her playfulness, resembling her father when he took care of her uncles.

“So? Any ideas? It can be anything.”

Juliet looked up at him and sighed. “I haven’t thought about it, to be honest; When I do, I’ll tell you though.” The raven-haired sadist commented, “I have to get going. My brother will be getting out of school soon, and I want to walk with him so we can find a present for Father.”

“Hahaha! Well, I wish you both the best of luck! Your dad must be really lucky to have you guys as his kids! Not a lot of kids would go out of their way for their parents.”

Juliet nodded and waved goodbye silently with Takoyaki in her mouth, while Kirishima waved back with his usual jovial grin.

Some time past by once she made it to her brother’s school. School may have already ended but they were all probably in the middle of cleaning duty. Not wanting to let her Takoyaki go to waste, Juliet continued to eat it with a delighted look upon her face as she waited. God, there was nothing that tasted better than-

....

‘Huh...’

After swallowing one of the octopus balls, Juliet stared down at the remaining Takoyaki at it.

While it was true that Juliet normally didn’t like strong-flavored things, it was odd that that fact was contradicted by her love for Takoyaki...

When...?

When did she develop this love for this snack?

She remember being introduced to it by Uncle Ayato, but...

This was just a snack.

So...

“Why...?”

Suddenly, her mind wandered upon curiosity of that one question.

Yeah...

I remember...

It all started about nine years ago. I was about 6 years old. I was prepared to attend the first grade. Honestly... I didn’t like going to school without Leon by my side. But at that time, I was willing to wait a year to be able to walk beside him to school. Back then, I already knew I was a smart kid. And that isn’t something said out of arrogance. I knew because I noticed how different I was compared to the other kids.

“She got it right again?”

“She’s so weird. She doesn’t talk to anyone.”

“She‘s like a robot! She doesn’t even show any emotion! I bet if you throw something at her, her face will still be the same.”

Even the teachers there.

“She doesn’t socialize with anyone.”

“That brat is so disrespectful! She humiliated me in front of the entire class!”

“Yeah, That kid acts as if she knows it all. Why the hell was she even here?”

......

They were all so annoying...

All so ignorant...

It pissed me off seeing them act as if they knew me when they don’t...

Unlike them, I live in a world where Vampires do exist. I was born with the same blood as vampire hunters. My father was once a vampire before returning back into human. My uncles are still vampires. I lived in a different world from other kids. I was what they would call “different” in comparison to their general idea of “normal”. To their words, a “freak”.

This is why I hated ignorant people...

Just because I was different from them, they had the right to talk down to me...?

At that time, I thought I could handle it... because I wanted to get through it and wait for Leon when he attends school next...

But then.. a week after school started, a week before my birthday...

I snapped....

I was presented a flower by Leon. He wanted me to wear it to school because he thought I would look pretty with it.

And when I did wear it..

“What is with this flower?! It looks gross!”

The next thing I knew was that a group of boys caught me in a hold, forcibly grabbing the flower from behind my ear.

“What kind of idiot would just wear something this girly?!! Was it that sissy brother of yours that gave you something like that?!!!”

One of the boys scoffed and threw the flower on the ground... and stomped on it repeatedly with a smirk on his face...

Everything went black at that point...

The next thing I remember was...

A distorted classroom...

Horrified gasps from other children..

A chair within my grasp...

Hitting the boy’s body until it was bruised...

Yelling out the words “WHO’S LIVESTOCK?!!!!!” past my lips...

And whimpering from the bruised, trembling body beneath me, mumbling repeatedly, “I-I am..!”

At that time, I didn’t realize how much I really enjoyed the sight of this livestock on the ground being punished like that. How the bruises upon his trembling body were even turning purple. How his helpless whimpers and cries were like music to my ears. It was fascinating at the time. Who knew it would create a spark within me that would awaken the sadist within me.

I was forced into the chairman’s office, with my parents in the room. While the chairman wanted to expel me, my parents knew I wouldn’t have done such a thing such as snapping if something wasn’t happening at school... Unless I was given a good reason for snapping the way I did...

They later learned it was because I was treated unfairly in the school, with the students bullying me and the teachers doing nothing but watch and snarl at me. They wanted the Chairman to do something about it, but he refused. Apparently, due to the injures I gave the boy, it should be our family that is count responsible even though it was that boy’s fault for pushing me into snapping like that. The chairman even refused to allow me to skip grades, despite my intelligence being higher than everyone else’s. Then, It lead to Mother and Father to taking me out of that damn school. While now I feel it was the best thing ever since that school was just the worst, back then I thought I have failed...

I felt like a failure. I let my emotions take control over me. Because of the fact that I was different...

Now Leon and I would never be able to walk together hand-in-hand to school. All because I screwed up...

When we got home, I locked myself in my room. I didn’t even let Leon in, because I felt pathetic for failing....

On my bed, I held onto my cow plush that I’ve had since I was a baby...

Everything was quiet and dark...

I felt empty...

Like I didn’t care to continue living anymore....

I found myself ready to doze off, to forget about everything...

But then I heard a knock upon the door...

“Juliet.. open the door.”

I heard Father’s voice from the other side. And I felt fear.

Was he there to tell me how disappointed he was of me?

While it was true, I did do things father would disapprove of. But the last thing I wanted was to be a disappointment to him.

“I am aware that you are awake; So just open the door. I would like to speak to you.”

Feeling hesitant, I slowly got out of bed and slowly opened the door, coming face-to-face with Father.

“Let’s go.” He said, making me tilt my head and stand still. “Where?” I question. “We are just going for a walk; Get your coat, Juliet; You don't want to worry your mother, do you?” Father advised. I shook my head and immediately did as he said.

Next thing I remember, we were walking together hand-in-hand, on a busy street. We didn’t say anything. We just continued to walk. I didn’t want to say anything, in fear of the possibility of doing something he would disapprove of as a disappointment.

I could only look down.

That was when I smelt something delicious.

I turned my head to a Takoyaki stand, and felt my stomach rumble. My father must’ve noticed it by how loud the rumbling was. “Hungry...” I mumbled as I pressed my hand onto my tummy. I remember myself stubbornly refusing to leave my room, even when it was lunch and dinner.

My father sighed, but he silently took me to the Takoyaki stand. “Two please.” He ordered. I could only watch in confusion. If there was anything I knew, My father hated strong-flavored foods. This also includes Takoyaki, right? So why...

“Here, Juliet.”

I was brought back to my senses when my father handed Takoyaki to me. Hesitantly, I took it and thanked him before we could go sit somewhere quiet to eat. Once we did, I gave my thanks before eating it. I couldn’t help but savor the texture of it. It was heavenly. I remember being introduced to it by Uncle Ayato when Leon and I were being babysat by Aunt Yui and him. I remember taking a bite of it at that time and the wonderful taste of it, but I forced myself to forget it once we returned home. I didn’t even realize I was already finishing mine and that I was now eating the one Father silently placed on my lap above mine.

“It is quite surprising; You usually don’t enjoy strong-flavored food.” I heard Father comment. Swallowing my food, I reply, “Because it’s different from the rest.”

....

Different from the rest...

Remembering the incident at school and swallowing the last one, I couldn’t help but frown...

I couldn’t believe something like Takoyaki was able to make me forget...

“I want to know why you didn’t tell us.”

I turned to my father in surprise, “What do you mean?” I couldn’t help but question. “What do I mean? If you were having a hard time at school, then why didn’t you come to me or your mother? Even Leon never knew about this. I want to know why you kept this secret from us.” Father answered.

The tone of his voice...

It sounded scary...

Normally, I would be able to handle it.

But this time...

“I-I... I...”

I could only look down...

I felt my eyes being clouded with tears...

Word could barely leave my lips...

My voice started to crack...

“... I didn’t want you.. to see me as a disappointment...”

“What?” I could sense my father’s surprise. I couldn’t blame him. I was a strong kid. I was fearless. I was able to withstand my father’s anger. I never let words affect me that much.

I continued.

“They.. they tried to put me down... If I did.. tell you and Mother... I would’ve felt like a.. f-failure... I wouldn’t be a-able to walk t-together with Leon when h-he goes to school next... I-I-I tried to... n-not l-let it.. a-affect me... b-but...”

At that point, I couldn’t do it...

So instead...

For the first time since I was born...

I, Mukami Juliet, the Mistress of Sadism, the definition of a “Bad Girl”, the rebellious child, and the most dominant sadist you could ever meet...

“UWAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!”

Cried...

They were tears of agony...

Tears filled with shame...

I felt utterly disgusted with myself...

My choices lead causing burdens...

Why was I like this...?

It’s not like I hated myself....

And I love my family....

But....

Just why?

Why was I different from the other kids?

Why did they have to be so fucking ignorant?

Why did I have to be the one in the wrong?

Why was I the only one different?!

I remember all of the emotions rushing through me at once, as soon as I started to wail.

Fear, sadness, anger, regret, shame...

It was all like a typhoon.

All of the tears bottled up within me were released. I couldn’t stop them, no matter how much I tried to stop them with my sleeves.

I’m sure it was quite the rare sight for anyone...

Even for Father—

Wait...

During the middle of my wailing, I felt myself in warm, strong arms.

They were.. my father’s...

“You may have done things that I highly disapprove of...“

I tried to catch my breath, to try and reply back...

But his next words lead me to even more tears...

“However, you are still my daughter regardless.. Both yourself and your brother are always going to be offsprings created from the forbidden fruit that your mother and I shared...”

Even at that age, I knew what he meant about the forbidden fruit that he and mother shared.

It was their love. The forbidden love they shared back then between a vampire and a huntress. Mortal enemies that eventually turned into star-crossed lovers. Their love that was strictly prohibited, much like the love from Shakespeare's Romeo and Juliet, the story Mother has always loved since her childhood. Irresistible yet sinful. Much like the forbidden fruit Adam and Eve ate.

‘Thank god...’

This time... all of my tears were of relief.

I can’t remember how long it has been since I’ve started crying...

It felt like a very long time...

I believe I passed out from crying too much afterwards.. and that Father carried me back home... because I couldn’t remember what happened next...

On the day of my birthday, it was like before I even went to school. Everything was normal. Leon and Mother were both relieved when I left my room for the first time in a while. My Uncles came, along with Aunt Yui, to celebrate my birthday.

And for the first time in a while, I felt happy.

Uncle Kou got me a new dress, Uncle Yuma got me a set for dumbbells perfectly suited for me as a kid, and Uncle Azusa got me a stuffed bunny. Apparently, Uncle Kou and Uncle Yuma helped pick something out for Uncle Azusa. Back then, I didn’t know why; But now that I know better, it was probably for the best. Aunt Yui got me a journal to write in. And I was received another gift from our other uncle, Mother’s adoptive brother, which was a punching bag. Ever since the incident, My Uncles and Aunt Yui got worried about me. Uncle Yuma was the most furious, but luckily I was able to get him to calm down after I told him what happened next.

It was a fun birthday. But the most special moment for me was at the near end. When it was just Mother, Father, and Leon.

“Our turn!” My mother announced happily as she brought more presents. I could only tilt my head in confusion. “Mother, why didn’t you do this while we were opening presents already?” I questioned. “You’ll see.” Mother smiled before turning to Leon. “Leon, do you want Juliet to open your present first?” Which in response, he nodded and smiled innocently.

Leon’s present? At that time, I was confused. What were they planning? Leon, with the help of Father, carried his present to me, and began to watch me with glee. Now curious, I carefully opened the present and opened the now unwrapped box. I find it to be a small picture frame decorated with the same flower he gave to me the week prior. I look to Leon and gave him a hug. He wanted to give it to me for when I have a memory I want to always treasure. “Thank you, Leon.” I mumbled. “Your welcome, Sis!” He grinned.

I broke the hug to see what my mother had in hand. “This is mine, sweetheart.” She smiled gently. I nodded and gave my thanks to her before unwrapping it. Once I did, I saw it to be a familiar dagger. We all look to Mother, who looked at me with a serious expression.

“I know you are still too young and you don’t have to take the road my family prior did; However, I inherited this dagger when I was your age. It was your grandfather’s. He used it against bad Vampires to protect the people he loved until his last breath. It was the same reason why I choose to inherit it, and it later became the difficult path that lead me to meet your father.” She spoke giving Father a quick glance before looking back to me as I listened carefully, “Ever since I gave up being a huntress, I never used it in years, because the fight was already over; But I still keep it as a memento of your grandfather, to remember what I fought and risked my life for. So I am giving it to you, for the same reason: To remember what you fought for and to protect the ones you love.”

I look to Leon, who looked back at me. Even though we were children at that time, we both knew we wanted to protect each other. Even willing to fight for each other. From her words, I can only guess that Mother must’ve known how I was feeling when I was locked in my room. That She must’ve went through the same thing too. “Now I’m not giving it to you to use it against those who have hurt you like that school did. I’m giving it to you so you can look at it and remember what you have done.” Mother wrapped her arms around me and held me close in a warm embrace. I could tell she was speaking from experience. “You’ve made some reckless and bad decisions, but you didn’t give in to their bullying. You had enough the moment they did something you couldn’t forgive; And although you should’ve told us what was going on so we could’ve handled it calmly, there was no mistake that getting you out of that school was the right thing to do.”

I shook my head, “They were all ignorant livestock, Mother.” I spoke. Back then, I felt nothing but pity for the people back at that school. But now I know better, they weren’t worthy of my pity. They were all livestock anyways. Mother sighed at my choice of words, but I could’ve sworn at that time my father smirked slightly as if he was proud. Meh. Could’ve been my imagination. “Thank you, Mother.” I hugged back as tightly as I could, after placing the dagger away.

After a moment, Mother released me from the embrace and gave me a light kiss upon my head, before we all turned to Father. For some reason, his present was smaller than Mother’s and Leon’s; However, that made them both smile the widest.

Once he placed the present in front of me, I carefully opened his. It was a small box. And once I opened it...

I gasped.

“Father...”

Inside the box were...

A pair of light pink barrettes...

I look up to him with wide eyes.

I was met with a smile.

“Happy Birthday, Juliet.”

I was frozen. But he opened the barrettes and helped me place them in my hair. “Look.” Father pointed behind me, with Mother holding up a small mirror to show me my own reflection. “They look really nice on Sis!” Leon commented.

He was right. It was strange, but I really did look better with them rather than a flower. It was like as if they were made for me.

It... suited me...

Within that moment, I felt tears swelling up from the corners of my eyes and looked to my father once again.

And within an instant, I leaned into my father’s arms, hugging him tightly around his neck, and cried.

Since then, I haven’t exactly cried.

Mother and Father decided to have me be homeschooled; But since they both work and can’t offered to let me or Leon alone with someone we don’t know, Aunt Yui offered to take care of both of us and be my homeschool teacher. From what Mother told me, Aunt Yui was an excellent student who took studying very seriously, and even had a higher grade than even the most sophisticated Sakamaki brother, Sakamaki Reiji. With that said, Aunt Yui became my new teacher. Surprisingly, Mother was right. I was able to learn some new things from her as my teacher.

Even better, for breaks, Aunt Yui made me Takoyaki upon my request. It was delicious.

During those breaks, Aunt Yui confirmed my suspicions when she told me how Mother also went through something similar that I did regarding the school incident. When she was younger, Mother got suspended for beating up a group of girls that were bullying Aunt Yui. But Aunt Yui never knew about Mother’s life behind the scenes as a huntress, because Mother didn’t want to get her involved; Otherwise, Mother would feel like she has let Grandmother and Grandfather down for not being able to protect someone dear to her. Like when she wasn’t able to save them. Mother never even cried since the massacre until she was told it was okay for her to cry out all of her emotions she hid during her hellish training and since then. I can't even imagine my own mother being hostile or aggressive like that. Or suffering horribly and trying to hold it in like that. That must’ve been hard for her, having to carry a heavy burden.

And from what I learned from Uncle Kou, Uncle Yuma, and Uncle Azusa, Father was also the type of person to carry heavy burdens too. No matter how stressful it was, being the leader and the eldest, He often tends to stand on his own, and has even pushed Mother away when she first tried to help. Even he had his own problems that he was struggling with that he hid from them. From what I was told, It made sense why he tried to keep it all in. It must’ve been difficult. Being the eldest and the leader that takes care of the younger siblings, desperately wanting to fulfill the debt of someone for saving your life even when the goal was impossible for you to complete yourself, finding out and eventually try to hide an ugly truth about the one that saved you, Et cetera... Just thinking about all of the things Father had to deal with just made me think if it was with Leon, I would’ve done the same thing no matter how bad it would be for me.

So I was similar to them:

We both didn’t want to be appear as a failure.

We bottle up our feelings to avoid showing any sign of weakness.

We are willing to do something risky if the one we care for are involved.

We stubbornly push others away to stand on our own.

We don’t want the people we care about dearly to getting hurt.

....

Now that I think about it...

Were...

Were Mother and Father trying to save me from committing the same mistake they made?

To hold back emotions and turn it all into stress?

... They didn’t want me to become like them in the past.

They.. really did care for me.

They did love me...

I was really their kid...

And for that, I’m forever grateful...

“Sis!”

Juliet looks up, and sees a familiar blond with a grin on his face. The grin slowly disappeared and was replaced with a concerned look upon seeing the Takoyaki still left unfinished. “Hey, are you okay? You didn’t finish your takoyaki.. And that’s saying something.” Leon questioned, worriedly.

Juliet looked down and saw she has not finished her delicious snack. Picking up one of the balls, The raven-haired girl silently gave it to her brother. “Here.” She offered; However, Leon continued to look at his sister with a concern look. “A-Are you sure you’re okay?” He asked again. “I’m fine; Just hurry up and take it.” Juliet eventually got tired and shoved the octopus ball in Leon’s mouth, catching him off-guard, “What are the chances you will ever get an offer like this from me again? Honestly.”

While her expression remained as stoic as it always was, Leon can tell that there was a glint in his sister’s eyes that told him to not push the subject further; With that said, Leon decided to drop it and just eat the takoyaki.

After that, they started to walk together the shopping area to search for a gift for their father. “Hey Sis.” Leon broke the silence between them. “What is it?” Juliet heard footsteps stop behind her, making her stop and turn to see a serious look upon her little brother’s face.

“... What do you want for you birthday?”

Such a question caught Juliet slightly off-guard. ‘What’s with this question today?’ She thought to herself. “Leon, you should know be better than anyone else in the world; Why would you even ask something stupid like that?” The raven-haired girl raised an eyebrow to show her confusion. They grew up together and know everything about each other. They could even understand what the other is thinking and even turn that into a game.

“I know but.. you don’t ask for anything, Sis.” Leon tried to explain, “You try not to make your birthday a big deal; It’s your birthday, the day you were born! There’s gotta at least be something you want!”

‘Something I want...?’

While it is true that Juliet doesn’t make her birthday a big deal or have anything in mind for a gift, was there really something that she herself wanted?

...

‘Ah... That’s right...’

“Leon, when it’s your birthday coming up and when you are asked the same question, your response was that there isn’t anything you want in particular either.” Juliet retorted. “I-I..” Leon stuttered, caught off-guard by the question. “Why is that?” The raven-haired girl question. Leon‘s tongue was tied for a moment until he looked down and responded shyly, blushing. “It’s because.. the best gift I could ever ask for.. is our family, our friends.. a-and our loved ones...”

There was a silence until Juliet spoke, as it was her turn to break the silence.

“Then you should know already.”

Leon looked up in surprise. His sister looked back at him with a rare smile. A smile that was only reserved to those who she deemed worthy.

“We’re siblings. We grew up together. You should know that if that is why you don’t ask for anything else, it’s not just your reason; It’s mine also.” Juliet responded, revealing the kind side of her that is extremely rare to see, “Do you understand now?”

Enchanted by the rare smile and the rare kind side of his sister, Leon nodded. Out of everyone in the world, it has always been the blonde that has seen this side of his sister the most. That’s why, despite her bullying him and her sadism, Leon knows that there is a good person underneath it all. It’s just his sister rather be known as a monster to others. Only those who work to become worthy enough to Juliet can be rewarded to see what’s underneath the layers of the sadistic mistress.

“Now hurry up, let’s go.” Juliet immediately dropped the smile and returned back to being stoic, “Or else, I’m going to leave you and go on ahead myself.”

Leon couldn’t help but grin before quickly walking next to his sister’s side. That’s his Sis, alright! The one he knows and loves! Juliet took notice of his grin.

“Why are you grinning like that?”

“Because I love you, Sis.”

“You’re creepy.”

“But you love me anyways, right?”

“Do you have a deathwish?”

“Eh? N-N-No, Sis-“

“Come again?”

“Ma’am! I mean, N-No Ma’am!”

“That’s better.”

There was no need for a birthday gift...

Objects are replaceable...

As long as you have a family that care for you...

Friends that accept you...

Just at least someone that loves you for who you are...

There was no need for anything else in the world...

#juliet mukami #leon mukami #Yuki's writing

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