#they feel judged. talked down to some of them are even pulling their own statements out of their ass to hurt their own feelings or admitting | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

horizon-verizon · 1 year

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I was asked by someone to look over a specific post and write what I thought about it...this is an opportunity to group several arguments & point out the pattern for a certain discrepancy.

LINK to the post I will talk about. Quote (the parts I will address):

but how can you judge Aegon for fighting for his (very strong and legitimate) claim on the throne when his family persuaded him to do so for their safety and survival but not judge Luke for taking Driftmark from Beala and Rhaena without blinking an eye which is objectively much worse because he was not forced into doing it by any means, and literally has no legitimate claim. Him not getting Driftmark would not have put the lives of his family members at risk the way Aegon not fighting for his claim would have.

I don't know if this post was about HotD or the original canon, but I'll divide my own thoughts accordingly. This post is in no way an invective against the Tumblr user as a person, just a critique of their thoughts.

Their argument claims four things:

Alicent's greens' main motivation to usurp Rhaenyra was self-defense

Aegon did himself at least feel that the throne/Viserys' regard should have gone towards him over Rhaenyra

the twins were at all in the customary line of succession for Driftmark as if they were part of the Velaryon house or were under Colrys' sole authority

that it is Rhaenyra making the decisions over succession

Book!Alicent, Cole, and the older green adults' main reason for usurping Rhaenyra was always about ambition and power. They both believed in patriarchal privilege/Faith-dominance AND used patriarchal privilege for their own ends. Show!older green adults are motivated differently:

Alicent is motivated by Otto's deception of her kids being in grave danger from Rhaenyra taking authority as well as her own envy of Rhaenyra's ability to at least avoid abuse and wishes to take some of her own by pulling Rhaenyra down through patriarchal restrictions and abuses (but even this is confusing in the show bc Alicent herself, as a character, is not written consistently nor intelligently...she is too reactive)

Cole just wants to destroy a person he pedestalized and at one point expected to pedestalize him back above her own station and role despite the fact that he had no real fear of her taking real advantage of him the same way a man could a woman

Otto is motivated by sheer ambition as his canon self is

Going back to the book characters, here are quotes from the green council for why each green older adult wants to usurp Rhaenyra (keeping in mind that they are also presenting their reasons to the green council and Alicent has left Viserys' body to rot to buy time and has already imprisoned/held hostage several people in the castle):

Otto

Alicent

Criston

Fuller Account

Rundown

Book!Otto cites survival for himself and Alicent, banking on Daemon's hatred for him and subsequent disapproval of Alicent for being his daughter, saying that Daemon would definitely try to execute him for just being someone he hated even after Rhaenyra gets crowned. Following his sentiment, Alicent cites the need to preserve her kids' lives on account that they had "a better claim to the throne than her brood of bastards" and are thus a threat to her. So she amends Otto's statement of Daemon killing them just bc he hates them AND uses the aristocratic disgust with bastards and the social stigma against bastards to make the council people more suspicious of the blacks/Rhaenyra. Again, bastards are regarded as inherently untrustworthy people bc they come from lust, "loss of self-control", and not the "duty" involved in a noble marriage. Finally, coming off of Alicent's note about bastards being untrustworthy and from lust, Cole reasons that if Rhaenyra were allowed to rule, she'd have lots of sex with Daemon and both would sexually predate on various lords' children or wives (note the gendered roles: "wife" of a lord). He's talking about "sullying", especially when he brings up how he thinks Laenor would have influenced the Velaryon boys to be sexually predatory themselves by virtue of the fact that Laenor was gay. So like modern media and persons who claim that gay men & drag queens (sometimes women, too but not that often) will prey on children based on the taboo sexual boundary crossing that queerness is seen to be, Criston uses homophobia to express that Rhaenyra shouldn't rule. Meanwhile, the boys are not supposed to be Laenor's kids--that is the whole argument for them being bastards--and Laenor actually didn't spend as much time with the V boys as people around them would expect for a father since he only went to Dragonstone to put up appearances and maybe the odd purely social visit. Laenor mainly lived at Driftmark with his Velaryon family and never built a household with Rhaenyra. Jace (114) was the only one who was born at KL, Luke (115) seems to have been born at the Red Keep and Joffrey (117) was born in Dragonstone.

Counterarguments to the OP's Post (bc some arguments still cross over to the show by the show's own writing)

Rhaenyra has been able to get others to fight for her even after her and her first 3 sons' deaths. The greens were the ones who always made the first move to antagonize, provoke, or undermine Rhaenyra and the blacks in both the book & the show, not the blacks.

If it was just about surviving, bastardry being made into a moral argument wouldn't be used. Also, we have no proof that Daemon would willingly taint Rhaenyra's and their kids' reputation by willy-nilly murdering not just Otto but the Alicent, the would-be Queen Dowager to Rhaenyra's own father without provocation. His killing of the Braavosi noble boy who was betrothed to Laena was all in Corlys' permission, i.e. the lord of Driftmark. Daemon may be a violent man, but he's not a stupid man.

And he never expressed actual hatred for Alicent, it is far more likely he thought of her as an interloper. Otto is still safe even though Daemon hates him: he never killed Rhea Royce and he could have killed Otto when it was safer for him before Viserys died if only by underhanded means. It's not like Viserys would actually execute Daemon if he did, even if it were exile.

As for how Alicent's kids being in danger:

Daemon largely ignored them

Rhaenyra explicitly said that if her siblings stopped she would spare them and only go after Alicent & Otto (this is after she's been usurped and she crowns herself at Dragonstone)

in the bigger picture sense, they actually had more defenses against other lords' machinations even with Rhaenyra [Posts: #1, #2, #3]

In the show, Laenor and Rhaenyra lived at the Red Keep together for all their boys to be born in the same place and it is very shortly after Joff is born that they leave together. Laenor still was not usually as physically close to Rhaenyra's side, but much more than what is implied in the book. However, Cole doesn't mention Laenor being gay as a reason for Rhaenyra's usurpation in the show and neither Alicent nor her father mentions bastardry or survival for their presented reasons to the council. It was just Otto shifting the conversation to naming Aegon and "discussing" the succession "question", Alicent being upset about being iced out for particular discussions and her trying to get them to not kill Rhaenyra and Beesbury's protests leading to his death plus Harold Westerling's giving up his cloak (who is actually already dead in the book). All because the show changed it to Alicent misinterpreting Viserys' dying words and her losing control over the council's and her father's actions, trying to prevent Rhaenyra's death--as she thought that was assured...tsk, tsk no confidence in one who she at one point was trying to go after her own son....

The show made the usurpation a whole, mere misunderstanding and miscommunication rather than the greens twisting truths, being blood purists and openly misogynists for their justifications. If somehow making the biggest civil war and injustices against a woman reads better as coming from a misunderstanding rather than an intentional perception attack on someone, I don't know if they understand the meaning of accountability nor think that misogyny is a real, palpable evil today or ever was, nor how to identify it.

Since we actually do not have that much evidence for how book!Aegon felt about Rhaenyra as a person before she was coronated, this is my headcanon and reasons for why I think he felt he deserved the throne over her despite his trying to foist off getting crowned until Cole (not Alicent) convinced him to take the crown for pure self-preservation sake. At least according to Septon Eustace.

This post goes into why Baela and Rhaena were not ever above the Velaryon boys in the line of the Driftmark succession.

Viserys, Otto, and Corlys are the ones primarily responsible for their children's misery for how they all contributed/directed to how they will marry. Both and show, except Alicent in the book, very much wanted to be Viserys' Queen Consort and of her own volition formed a faction and harrassed Rhaenyra for most of her pubescence and early motherhood.

#lucerys velaryon #aemond targaryen #lucerys' death #aegon ii #hotd characterization #fire and blood characters #baela rhaena and driftmark seat #history is a series of accidents #hotd accountability #hotd writing #driftmark claim

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enneamage · 2 years

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do you think wilbur’s npd and niki’s bpd is what led to their relationship (or whatever the hell they had going on) crashing and burning? niki seems to have the type of bpd where she tends to turn anger/negative emotions inwards as she works to make the other person as happy as possible (though this could be projection on my part), which is pretty much a person with npd’s dream partner. did wilbur just get too comfortable using someone who seemed to be willing to give him anything?

My impression is they dragged out for a relatively long time in spite of their natures. Crashing and burning isn’t pleasant by any means, but at least you get a definitive ending point instead of an endless drag—it sounds like these two were hot and cold before Niki had to make the choice to step away since she was exhausted. (And even then, I’ve been hearing some chatter that it might have had flare-ups after that point.)

I would agree that the BPD symptoms Niki has talked the most about relate to the fawn response and the Favorite Person mechanism. She becomes very accommodating in hopes that her energy will be returned and she’ll be able to feel safe with her person. Judging from what I saw of them Wilbur was a big fan of that energy, and we’ve talked a bit more here about his caretaker-seeking. Wilbur has a clingy side that was probably very receptive to her attentive closeness, but on the flip side his emotional flare-ups left him wanting space. The NPD probably makes his emotional needs intense and paradoxical, so every pull has a push.

Idealise/Devalue/Discard rarely lets the person experiencing it stay happy. If he was still in the grips of that cycle, he could have everything he wants out of a caretaker-type and still get bored/restless if the existential dread flared up. I can’t know if that’s what happened between them, but judging by the statements he’s made before about his love of the chase and how he gets bored when he has what he wants, I wouldn’t be generous here.

Buried deep in the old drunkcasts there are clips of Niki talking about a relationship that sounds very much like him. He sounded very inconsistent, either due to time-specific mental health issues or his own nature. There were snips where she says she felt led on, some ‘men are disappointing’ talk, and there were probably even more that I didn’t get to see. It sounds like his pattern is taking more than he gives. I remember her talking about needing a place to feel secure and safe in her relationships, and from what we know about Wilbur it makes sense that he did not fit that bill.

There’s an interesting dynamic here where Niki takes responsibility for having a Favorite Person instinct, so he may be off the hook for being inconsistent because ‘everyone is human and people will let you down eventually.’ They seem to be on good terms now, which is certainly something, but I do wonder how they got there.

#These dang streamers and their situationships #gen wlbr tag #gen nki tag #He’s a bit too comfortable even assuming his audience will take anything he throws at them #I think the people around him /r or /p get this treatment too if he thinks he can get away with it #The offputting thing is if you trace the relationships where he gets caretaker energy as being his prime MO he’s /still/ mooching off Niki

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poopandpraydotcom · 2 months

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Truth or Poop: Flushing Out the Myths of Christianity

Have you ever wondered why some people reject Christianity or feel like your own faith is on shaky ground? Maybe you've heard the whispers – that truth is just a feeling, or the Bible is a collection of bedtime stories. In a world that often preaches "your truth, my truth," how do we know what is true? Well, I invite you to do your own research on the validity of the Bible (and don't forget to check out my free printable journal "Faith, Love, and Dropping Truth Bombs” to help you on your way!) but in the meantime, here are some thoughts about commonly stated beliefs.

Misconception 1: Everyone Has Their Own Truth so Christianity Isn’t Truth

Today, people are bombarded with messages that truth is relative and that they can decide their own truths based on personal preferences or feelings. It sounds believable and freeing at first, doesn’t it?

But actually, the truth isn't like your grandma's potluck dinner where you can politely skip the mystery casserole and load up on desserts. Nope, it's more like gravity – whether you're a ballerina or a klutz, it's gonna treat you the same when you trip over your own feet. Imagine trying to argue with gravity. "Sorry, Mr. Newton, I don't believe in your silly falling apple theory!" SPLAT. Gravity doesn't care about your disbelief; it's still gonna introduce your face to the ground.

Now, when someone pulls out the ol' "There is no truth" card, just ask them if that statement is true. Watch as their brain does the intellectual equivalent of a cat chasing its own tail.

The idea of absolute truth isn't about being rigid or close-minded towards others; it's about seeking understanding, while aligning ourselves with God’s Word… which leads me to the next common misunderstanding about Christianity...

Misconception 2: Jesus Said Not to Judge

Ever heard someone say, “Jesus told us not to judge”? It’s one of those classic lines that gets tossed around, especially when someone’s trying to shut down a conversation. But Jesus wasn't handing out "Get Out of Judgment Free" cards. He was talking about not judging hypocritically, rather than abandoning judgment altogether. Everyone makes judgments – it’s part of life. The trick is to make them fairly and consistently… Basically like, "Hey, make sure your own house is clean before you start a dust-busting service."

Misconception 3: Christians are Hypocrites and Church is a Place for Perfect People

Oh boy, if we needed to be perfect to be Christian, we'd all be in trouble! Christians are definitely not perfect people. We're just trying to follow a perfect Savior, and sometimes we trip over our own feet in the process, but hopefully, we learn to grow and do better – which isn’t hypocrisy, it’s being human!

As for church being a place for perfect people? Ha! If that were true, we'd all be hanging out in empty buildings every Sunday. In reality, no one's got it all together, which is why we all need Jesus! Church isn't about putting on your Sunday best and pretending life is all rainbows and unicorns. It is more like a spiritual emergency room – a place where the broken, the struggling, and the "hot mess express" crew (aka all of us) can come be real, support each other, and remember that we're all works in progress.

Misconception 4: Love Means Never Challenging or Disagreeing

Real love isn't about pretending everything is sunshine and rainbows. True love, the kind Jesus showed us, doesn't mean agreeing with everything others do or believe. In fact, real love often necessitates difficult conversations and standing up for what's right, even if it's uncomfortable.

Jesus was the ultimate example of this. He didn't sugarcoat things. He spoke truth to the religious leaders of the time, even if it ruffled some feathers (or, ahem, toppled a few tables in the temple). Love, as he showed us, is about action, not just warm fuzzies. So, let's ditch the notion that love is just warm fuzzy feelings and unconditional approval, and rather strive to do what is best for others, even when the path is challenging.

Misconception 5: The Bible is Just Ancient Fanfiction

Now, I know some of you might be thinking, "But isn't the Bible just a collection of ancient fairy tales?" Let me tell you, that couldn’t be further from the truth. The Bible is a historical document with compelling and corroborating evidence from even non-Christians.

For instance, the Jewish historian Josephus and the Roman historian Tacitus both wrote about Jesus and early Christianity in ways that support the biblical accounts. Josephus mentioned Jesus as a wise teacher who performed surprising feats and had a following. Tacitus confirmed that Jesus was executed under Pontius Pilate and that his followers faced severe persecution.

Moreover, the Bible includes some pretty embarrassing information about its heroes – details no one would invent if they were trying to create a religion to attract followers. Things like the disciples doubting Jesus even after His resurrection, or women being the first witnesses to the empty tomb (in a culture where women's testimonies weren't considered reliable in court). It'd be like me writing my life story and including that time I clogged the toilet at a dinner party. Who does that unless they're really committed to telling the truth?

Finally, let's talk about the resurrection. It’s the cornerstone of the Christian faith, and there are compelling arguments for its truth. The apostles went from being a bunch of fearful followers to bold witnesses of the resurrection. They must have witnessed something so earth-shattering that it led them to uproot their own lives with nothing like power or riches to gain but rather, face persecution, suffer imprisonment, and ultimately in many cases, death. How many people would be willing to go to this extreme for something that didn’t really happen?

Misconception 6: Getting Jesus’ Love Isn’t Like Earning a Scout Badge

Some people believe that they need to earn Jesus’ love to be saved through “being good enough” or doing a “bunch of stuff.” However, I am here to share some amazing news with you! Jesus loves you, full stop. No need to win the "Most Perfect Human" award. Just say "Yes" to His love, and boom – you're covered! Jesus and His love are not going to change based on “getting what you deserve.” All you actually need to do is declare Him as your Lord and His forgiveness will always surpass any mistakes you have made or will make.

So, the next time you chat with a friend or family member about your faith, ask them if they'd be willing to explore the truth of Christianity with an open heart and mind. After all, the truth doesn't care about our feelings or beliefs – it's just waiting for us to discover it. And that, my friends, is the beauty of a faith built on evidence, love, and the power of the resurrection. (*Post based on a sermon by Dr. Frank Turek.*)

Don’t forget to grab your FREE “Love, Faith, and Truth Bombs” Journal full of guided questions and reflections to help develop a deeper understanding of key concepts in this post and how these principles can be applied in your daily life!

#faith #free printable #bible #Bible Study #PoopAndPray

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iwadori · 3 years

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When they neglect you for another girl Part 4 (Sakusa)

Part One Part Two Part Three Part Four Part Five

Word Count: 2.6K

Genre: Angst to Fluff

masterlist

AN: YES I DID PUT MYSELF IN THIS STORY! SUE ME. This is basically inspired by a random conversation i had w the great @teesumu, so this is basically for you doll <3

Sakusa:

You and Sakusa have been together for a around 10 years and love eachother immensly.

However recently Sakusa has been busy and you havent really had much time together lately as he claims been busy doing loads of visits with his new agent.

But of course, being the loving partner you are you wanted to revive the spark in your relationship.

You have been seeing a lot of people on social media posting their aesthetic ‘picnic dates,’ and you knew that this was something that appealed to you before it was ‘on trend.’ Kiyoomi immediately came to your mind once you had the idea of going on a date. You knew that you haven’t be around each other lately, as Kiyoomi always had either a ‘meeting’ or some sort of ‘interview’ that his new agent “Empress” has set up for him.

You didn’t really know Empress that well, just that she was ‘good at her job,’ a ‘hard and dilligent worker,’ and a ‘raging hottie’ with Atsumu’s opinion being the last one. You weren’t suspecting her to have any malicious intent towards you or Kiyoomi, since you knew that he had a great judge of character. But it was just odd, that every time Kiyoomi was running late or having ‘super-secret’ conversations on the phone it was always because ‘my agent set up this,’ ‘my agent set up that,’ and that’s what left you a bit wary.

As you were scrolling through your phone you see a calendar updating saying : Next Week‘ A DECADE AGO WE FELL IN LOVE.’

10 years. How could you forget? You and Omi have literally been together for a decade. You think back to the decade of madness and love you’ve been through together, smiling fondly to yourself but then you think about where you are now... barely even talking to each other, only mainly seeing him when he comes home from work.

You need to fix this. Or at least make an attempt to get you and Kiyoomi talking again. So, the only thing you can do, is plan that picnic.

You spent the rest of the day planning your anniversary picnic. ’It’s going to be great,’ you think to yourself, you have a list of all Omi’s favorite foods you're going to make him and bring and you are probably going to pick up a few board games and maybe even get some paint supplies. You and Kiyoomi used to paint a lot together, with the two of you not being the best of painters, but you enjoyed eachothers company non the less.

Everything was sorted...for the most part. All you needed to do was get Omi there, and it’ll all be okay. Right? As you were bubbling and looking for more picnic inspo, you hear your front door open which made you even more excited to tell your boyfriend your plans.

As you rush to go greet him, you see he’s on the phone making you roll your eyes. “No Empress it won’t work, we need this sorted by next week. Okay? Next week.” he says in an agitated way. He hangs up the phone and sighs, shoving off his duffel bag.

“Hey Omi, how was your day?” you say a bit hesitant, noticing his annoyed mood.

“Fine” He said dismissively, aiming to walk past you aiming for your bedroom.

“Oh well I have something amazing planned for ne-” you try to say following after him.

“Can we not do this right now Y/N,” he says again turning too look at you making you frown a bit, all you wanted to do is surprise him with your plans and have a day out with him. After noticing your sad look he finishes with “it’s just that Empress she’s bee-”

“I don’t want to hear about her.” you say bitterly folding your arms, Empress is the last person you want to hear about right now “God Omi can’t you just care about me? For once.”

“I do I-”

“You don’t anymore,” you say, with all the emotions and feelings you’ve been just supressing from a while coming up. You don’t even know how you got from point A to B with this conversation, but there's no stopping now. “I feel that, for a while now we haven’t been how we were before when we were just Y/N and Kiyoomi. Instead of how we are now. Just Y/N. Then Kiyoomi and Empress.”

After hearing his agents name, Kiyoomi’s name contorts to confusion “Empress? What does she have to do with anything?”

“How can you not see? For the past month all it’s been is ‘Empress this’ ‘Empress that,’” you complain “Having your super secret conversations with her, like god Kiyoomi can’t you see a problem with this?”

“It’s not like that Y/N, we’re just work partners” he says looking a bit annoyed “Just business.”

“Just business? So Kiyoomi, what were you talking about on the phone earlier” you say with your voice slight accusingly.

“Umm I, I can’t really say?” he says more of a question then a fully assured statement. You squint your eyes at him and scoff.

“What is going on with you Omi?” you say “are you cheating on me with her is that it?”

“No, no of course not Y/N! How could you even ask that?” he frowned at your question making your chest hurt, since deep down you knew he could never do that to you. Could he?

“Well tell me then, what were you talking about?” you ask again.

“I can’t say..” he finishes

“Well I can’t stay.” you say and his face goes back to confusion “Here. With you.”

“What do you mean Y/-”

“I need a break or something. I just can’t be here right now.” You start to rush and pack a big of things whilst Kiyoomi just stands there.

After you pack up your stuff, you look back and see Kiyoomi just there. Standing. You were upset, you kind of wanted him to rush after you and beg you not to leave, but he was just there. Standing. So you put the hand on the door and just before you leave you turn back and say “bye Sakusa, see you later?” to which you see him slightly nod at.

When the door shut, Kiyoomi starts to cry. After hearing you call him by his last name really twisted the knife that was already in his heart. You haven’t called him that since you were like 15. He knew what you wanted; he knew you wanted him to rush towards you and beg you not to leave, but he didn’t. He couldn’t. But what he could do is call the one person he only could call.

After a few rings, he hears “What do you need Saku?”

“She’s gone, she left.”

“What do you mean she’s gone, did you tell her?”

“No I didn’t tell her. And that’s the problem, Empress she think-”

“Saku, don’t worry about it. I’ll handle it.”

“You’ll handle it?”

“Don’t I always?”

He couldn’t argue with that, he just had to trust that Empress could sort it. “And also, don’t spend the week with your head up your ass crying, you’ve got a lot of grovelling to do kiddo.”

He nodded even though she couldn’t see him, as he knew that what just went down needed to be resolved, fast.

Meanwhile, on your end. You’re a mess. Sobbing all the time, tissues are your best friend, you’ve been waiting just waiting for a message or a call, or some form of communication. You just wanted to feel wanted by your boyfriend (can you even call him that now.)

You spent the rest of the week at your parents, immersing yourself in your work and doing ‘self care’ things, trying to forget all about the argument you and Kiyoomi had.

One day, you receive a letter, it wasn’t delivered by a mail man though. It was slid under your door, in a golden envelope sealed with a red hot wax seal. It read:

‘Dear Y/N,

My sweetheart, im sorry for how the week has been and I know a letter with only a fraction of how I feel won’t make up for how I acted that day. But im inviting you to join me at the Gardenia Botanical Gardens at 2 pm tommorow, to celebrate our 10 year anniversary.

I know there is a big chance, you may not want to see me and I understand but please. I love you, so so much, that words can’t even describe. But I need you to see me apologise and I need to make it up to you.

I hope to see you there, I’d wait the whole day for you. If you don’t show, I understand.

Sincerely, Sakusa Kiyoomi

P.S The theme is ‘summer hot day, tea with the queen’ - Atsumu’

You smile at the letter, but wonder if you should actually go or not. You did want to see him of course and get this all resolved, but you had your own plans for your anniversary which wouldn’t of been spoiled if he didn’t withhold his super-secret phone calls.

It took you hours to contemplate on what to do, but you decided to just sleep on it and see how you feel tomorrow. In the morning, you knew what you wanted to do. Of course, you had to go, at least to hear him out and see if he really did cheat on you or not. For all you know he’s inviting you to tell you that he’s going to run away with his agent and his secret kids they had together. You shook the negative thoughts from your head and just repeated your mantra ‘hope for the best and prepare for the worst.’

When you got there, you didn’t exactly know where he would be but he said ‘botanical gardens’ so of course you decided to just wander around there. It was nice walking around and just smelling the roses, and seeing the pretty scenery.

“Excuse me ma’am,” you hear someone say tugging on your leg “um that mister over there told me to give you these.” Looking down, you see a small boy who looked about the age of four with a crumpled up bunch of roses handing them to you.

“Oh thank you,” you say giving the kid a head pat “where is this ‘mister’ might I ask?”

“He’s over there!” The kid pointed behind him and you look to see Kiyoomi sitting under a white gazebo which is surrounded in your favorite flowers and the table is filled with food.

You walk over to your ‘boyfriend,’ with him not noticing your present yet. When you reach him you say “I think she stood you up buddy,” you joke making him jump abit startled.

“Y/N!” he exclaimed, instantly beaming “You came you made it!” he stood up and pulled you into a hug, which you return before you remember why you came here in the first place.

“Oh I-” he says awkwardly

You decide to sit down pulling him down with you. You kind of sit there in uncomfortable silence, for a while until you both say.

“So I-”

“What are yo-”

You both laughed at your simultaneous comments, before Kiyoomi looks at you letting you speak. “What did you want to bring me here for?”

“I didn’t want, what happened last week to happen Y/N I-” he says looking a bit panicked “It wasn’t supposed to go this way.”

“Then how was it meant to go Sakusa.”

“Y/N, please don’t call me that, I know I made you upset but pleas-” he starts before getting distracted again “Y/N, I called you here to say a few things..”

“Them being.?” you ask a bit impatiently.

“I love you. I love you so much, you don’t even understand. Ever since I saw you at my volleyball game in our first year, in the stands just cheering us on. I knew that from that day, after I scored the winning point and our eyes met, that we were destined to be together. I just love you so much Y/N”

“Omi I don’t understand I-”

“Just let me finish please, It’s taken a while for me to say this. And trust me, there’s been so many times when I wanted to just say ‘hey Y/N let’s get married,’ but I couldn’t I was scared, and I wanted it to be perfect, so perfect. Because you deserve the world Y/N. That’s why I got Empress to help, I know that our conversations may seem odd, but I love you and she knows that she just wanted to help trust me. And she did, all this wouldn’t of been done if it wasn’t for her. But anyways Y/N what I waned to say was I love you and I love you and I-” he rambles on loosing track of his words.

But in the midst of his speech, you hear all that you needed and responded with the only way you can.

“Yes.” you say simply, with a growing smile on your face.

“Yes?” he repeats confused “What do you meann ye- ohhh" Kiyoomi blushes embarrased that after all that he ended up ruining the thought out proposal he wanted to give you with his ramble.

“Im sorry Y/N, I didn’t mean to say it like that I wanted it to be perfect and I-”

You shut him up with a kiss making his eyes widen as he reciprocates it anyways.

“What did she say?” you hear someone shout from a far, and you look over to see the MSBY Jackals all standing there with shit eating grins on their faces.

“I said yes!” you yell back, to which they all cheer and rush towards you guys giving you both hugs and slapping Kiyoomi on the back.

As the boys celebrate Omi finnally do what he’s been planning for ages, you get approached by Empress who awkwardly walks up to you. “ I didn’t want to leave the impression that me and Saku were any sort of thing?” she says

“Yeah I think it was definitely a big misunderstanding, it’s just that Omi was never around and whenever he was he was just talking to you and you know how it is.”

“I definitely know, I’d feel the same way if my boyfriend did that to me.”

“Oooh boyfriend?” you ask her feeling nosey on her romantic life.

“Yeah boyfriend. You know iwaizumi hajime... the trainer?” she says smiling a bit when she said his name.

“The trainer! Nice.”

The rest of the night was fun and was basically an engagement party for you and Omi all you and friends just partying and celebrating yours and Omi’s love for each other. “Omi” you say getting his attention “Happy ten year anniversary babe”

“Happy anniversary, I can’t wait to spend the rest of my life with you.”

After the party you spend your months now planning for a big fat wedding, with the help of your new found bestie, Empress (who you obviously misjudged from the start.) You and Omi could never be happier, every thing was back to how it was before, maybe even better. And you definitely spent at least two Saturdays a month going out for picnics and it was now a tradition in your relationship, so in the end you did get your ‘aesthetic picnic date.’

AN: WHAT DID U GUYS THINK??

#haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x reader comfort #haikyuu fluff #sakusa x you #sakusa headcanons #haikyu angst #sakusa fluff #sakusa x reader #sakusa oneshot #haikyu sakusa #signedwithane😌

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letarasstuff · 3 years

Text

Ranting

(A/N): This was requested by an anon, I hope you like it :)

Summary: In the middle of midterms, Spencer's daughter has enough and for the first time in her life, she rants to the team

Warnings: one swear word, school, school stress, mental breakdown, shitty friends, a bit of angst (but there is fluff to balance that out), weird grammatical sentences that are according to google correct

Wordcount: 2.3k

✨Masterlist✨ _____________________________ As a teenager, Spencer was pretty closed off. But this had several reasons, like being a child (or moreover a teen prodigy) at college and getting his first Ph.D, or that he hadn’t had a safety net of people he could have gone to. So as he became a father himself, he tried everything possible to assure his own daughter that her feelings and thoughts are always welcome and valid.

Unfortunately (Y/N) herself has developed the same habit starting high school and ever since Spencer can’t do anything to get her to open up to him. It’s not like they don’t have a good relationship, they have one of the strongest father-daughter bonds the BAU has ever witnessed. The girl simply has other ways to cope with her feelings and how to act them out in the safety of her own four walls. Her father learned to accept it, knowing that he can’t and won’t force her to talk to him.

So what follows now not only shocked Spencer. But also his work family.

It’s the time every teen in high school dreads: Midterms.

A word a teacher can mutter and a shiver goes through the rows of students in the classroom. Or at least it feels like it to (Y/N). She takes her school work very seriously. In her mind every single grade determines her future.

The rational part in her knows that the grades in her sophomore year doesn’t matter. That they are even long forgotten when she graduates. There is just so much pressure on her. But it isn’t coming from her father.

Spencer is pretty laid-back regarding school. He knows his daughter is trying her best and that it’s just the tenth grade and not the end of the world. School is not everything life has to offer, especially he has to know it as a scholar and profiler flying through the country in a jet back and forth.

It’s (Y/N)’s classmates, who pressure her to get good grades.

“We depend on you and your notes”, Tyler exclaims as he jogs next to her through the busy hallway. “Ty, I know. But I don’t have the time to get them done for all of you to understand by tomorrow. They are still a mess that only I know to see through. I still have to finish my history project and I go to my Dad’s work this afternoon, which means I won’t get much done and I still have to do the homework I got today before sorting my notes for the test in two days.”

At her locker, the boy still doesn’t let go of the subject. “Do you want to say that our grades don’t matter as much as yours? Because this would be a true selfish statement.” Maybe it is the lack of sleep, because she pulled three all-nighters in two weeks, or the fact that she is slowly getting fed up being treated like an unpaid private teacher, but (Y/N) can’t stop her sassy answer. “Tyler, you wouldn't even know how to tell apart your ass from your head if it weren’t for me and my help in biology. You wouldn’t even know how to spell selfish if I didn’t let you copy my answers in spelling tests in elementary school.”

Done with the day and her friend’s shit, she slams the door of her locker shut and leaves a flabbergasted boy behind. Half an hour later the teenager enters the bullpen with her visitor badge clipped to the pocket of her sweater.

On the way there she was fuming. The audacity of her friends. It’s not only Tyler, who tried to get her notes of a unit, she was the only one listening, even though the teacher said loud and clear that this will be important for midterms. A few other friends out of the group she usually hangs out with texted her the same question of when her notes will be given to them. Understandably, (Y/N) comes into the office in the worst mood anyone from the team ever saw, including her own father.

“Hey Sweetheart”, he tries to greet her with a hug. Even though both of them are not big on touch, they are extra affectionate with people they are close to.

To everybody’s surprise, the girl takes a step back, effectively avoiding his open arms. “Hey”, she grumbles out before taking a seat in the chair already waiting for her. Nobody is allowed to sit in this one, except for her. Not even Derek has ever put his butt on this one, knowing the sacredness of it.

Without sparing anyone another glance, (Y/N) gets the needed stuff for that history project out and continues working on it. The team resorts to throwing a questiongly look to Spencer, who shrugs his shoulders with a look of despair. So everyone resumes their work without even daring to say a word.

The general silence is occasionally broken by an unnerved sigh leaving the teenager’s lips. “Is the conference room occupied?” She asks, her voice clearly showing how annoyed she is. Her father shakes his head. “No, not that I know of. Do you need help with your school work?” This is obviously the wrong thing to say. “Do I look like a baby? I don’t need anyone to help with that, I have been going to school for ten years now, I think I can handle this project as perfectly fine as I did since day one. It’s just your keyboard typing that will be the reason for my first grey hairs if I don’t get out of here soon.”

Quickly (Y/N) gathers her stuff and storms off into the conference room. Immediately the team crowds her father’s desk. “What happened?” “Who hurt her?” “Go, talk to her!”

“Guys, I don’t know what’s going on. I’m at the same loss as all of you. The only thing I know is that (Y/N) is under pressure, because it’s midterms. But judging by the way she reacted, I don’t want to go near her. It’s safer to try to defuse a bomb than talk to her in that mood. Last time I saw something similar, her favorite show was declared finished, got a revival and then didn’t get one and nobody mentioned it again. She was so mad, I think it took three years of her life.” A silence of uncertainty spreads through the room.

“What about we give her some room until she calms down?” JJ suggests, being unsure herself how to deal with a teenage girl. But the rest agrees and goes back to filling out their paperwork.

This continues for about 20 minutes, till a loud bang and a frustrated scream is heard followed by “DON’T THEY WANT TO GET IT OR ARE THEY JUST STUPID?!” Alerted by that, seven people (yes, even Dave and Aaron leave their offices, while Penelope was already in the bullpen) storm into the round table room only to see a more than outraged (Y/N).

“Sweetheart”, Spencer speaks to her in the gentlest voice they ever heard from him and slowly moves towards his daughter, “What’s going on?”

Her response is delayed by several deep breaths she has to take in order to be able to talk without seething. “ALL OF MY SO CALLED FRIENDS ARE ASKING ME FOR MY NOTES, like do I look like a personal tutor? And when I tell them that I got a life, a life outside of school and grades, because otherwise I go completely bananas, just like all of you say, they get mad. Now they act like I’m the most selfish person in the whole world. I’m so done, can’t they understand that they are old enough to take care of their own stuff? I’m not responsible for them, their grades or anything regarding their lives. Otherwise I would be the mother of at least four toddlers and one baby and at the age of sixteen I’m not ready for that kind of responsibility. I know friends are there for eachother, and I really don’t mind helping them from time to time. But what they are doing is terror. Terror.

“Oh and don’t get me started on their tormention if I get something lower than an A-. Then they suddenly transform into geniuses, like they suddenly know everything possible. Of course, I’m the dumb one. I should have studied more.

“I am under an insane amount of pressure, because I know they rely on me, but enough is enough. I tell them that if anyone asks me for anything school related again and they act like I owe them an answer, I’ll cut off all ties to all of them. What am I, a roboter just there for their needs, without some of my own?”

After her long rant, (Y/N) takes a couple more breaths. It’s pretty much the only sound right now, because the team is stunned. None of them heard her talking, no ranting, like that. Not even her Spencer has seen her like that.

Realizing what she just said, the teenager fidgets nervously with her hands. “I’m, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to, you know, blow up like that. I, I really don’t know where this came from.” Nervously she scratches the back of her head. It really wasn’t her intention to let it out like that. Her plan was just to come home tonight and deal in the confinement of her own four walls with all of her feelings. It’s easier to be honest to yourself when you are alone than having an audience watching you losing it.

Suddenly (Y/N) finds herself engulfed in a massive bear hug. “Oh, my sweet sweet summerchild. You needed to rant to us and I’m so happy you did. Even though your uhm, friends, sound like big douchebags, we can help you sort something out”, Penelope tells her while keeping her arms around the teen.

“Just like lil mama said, we are here for you, Baby Reid. Don’t ever be afraid to tell us something, may it even be as small as you having stubbed your toe.” Morgan ruffles her hair and gives her a reassuring smile.

Just like them everybody shows her their support, be it encouraging words or affectionately gestures. Rossi invites her to a calm and quiet dinner at his mansion, cooking class included. Hotch assures her that she will get through this rough patch, with or without these fake people. JJ suggests (Y/N) comes over to her home and she can participate in a family game night at their home.

When it’s Emily’s turn, she makes sure to get her message loud and clear by looking the teen in the eyes (not as deep as it sounds, because some people make an intense stare really uncomfortable): “If those kids give you a hard time again, tell me. I’ll pay them a visit in classic protective godmother fashion, because nobody traits MY godchild like this. Just give me their names and I’ll handle the rest.” Obviously she doesn’t say this aloud in front of everyone, else Hotch will have her head, knowing she goes through with her threats. Instead she whispers it into the teen’s ear. Still, it makes (Y/N) smile, having such a strong support net.

Sensing the family’s need for time of their own to talk about the whole situation, the team leaves the room. Spencer gestures to her to take a seat after moving two chairs opposite each other. He wants her not to feel trapped.

“Do you still want to talk about it? It doesn’t have to be now, we can do it tonight, tomorrow, in a week or in a month. Just, please don’t shut me out. I know it’s difficult to be a teenager, especially in times like these. But it won’t do you any good keeping all of this for yourself. Today you took it out through anger. How will it look next time?

I don’t want to pressure you into talking. We don’t need to. We can find other coping mechanisms. We can try and reduce your stress. Anything. But we both know that this is not the right way.” While speaking, he takes his daughter’s hand, making her look up to him.

(Y/N) nods. Her eyes fill with tears. “I just can’t keep going like this.” She whispers, feeling all the stress, pressure and the intensity of the last few weeks crashing down on her. Quickly Spencer gathers her in his arms, letting her cry in his embrace.

After calming down, she looks up to her father with bloodshot eyes. “We can talk tonight. But I need you to do me a favor.” “Anything”, he assures her, stroking a hand along her back. “I, uhm, I need a new phone. I may or may not have thrown mine against the wall after getting a text from Tyler.”

Spencer looks at the crooked cell laying on the floor, the screen cracked. “I think we can get that sorted”, he tells her with a smile and gives her a kiss on the forehead.

The two of them leave the office earlier, having many things to talk about and many problems to solve. But with the help of her family (Y/N) gets through this, a time where people unfortunately only like her for her smarts and not being herself.

Taglist:

All works:

@dindjarinsspouse @big-galaxy-chaos @jswessie187 @kneelforloki

Criminal Minds:

@averyhotchner @mggsprettygirl @herecomesthewriterwitch @ash19871962 @ellyhotchner

#spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x teen!reader #spencer reid x daughter!reader #Emily Prentiss x teen!reader #Penelope Garcia x teen!reader #Derek Morgan x teen!reader #x teen!reader #x daughter!reader #reid!reader #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #reader insert

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punemy-spotted · 3 years

Text

The Price You Pay

Pairing: Mob!Steve Rogers x Reader

Warnings: Non-con/Dub-con, mentions of murder, unclear timeline, blackmail, unprotected sex, fingering (F!receiving), smut, esoteric references to past abuse, manipulation, Dark!Fic

Words: 5.2k (holy fuck?)

Summary: You need his help. He names his price.

Notes: This is for @stargazingfangirl18 and her incredible 5K Soft!Dark Challenge and I can't believe I wrote over 5k words for a oneshot, making this the longest piece I've ever written. I took a blend of prompts: Mob!AU; “When I woke up this morning, I certainly didn’t think my day would end like this;” and “That’s a big favor you’re asking for, I think you need to make it worth my while.”

And this was intended to be a oneshot but now I can't stop thinking about it so thanks Siri, I think this is now a part of my WIPs too! Your work is amazing and I had a blast being able to take part in this!

As usual, my work is 18+ ONLY, Minors DO NOT INTERACT

You went to him first.

You went to him, handed them your business card and I want to speak to Steve Rogers.

Honestly they almost threw you out with an extra hole in your head but then the man of the hour walked right in.

So now you’re here. Now you’re here, sitting across a gorgeous dining table with a ten-course meal laid out and honestly you’re surprised they didn’t tie your wrists to the arms of the chair while you watch him eat and take in the look of those baby blue eyes scanning you over.

He even brought you non-alcoholic rosé, when you said you didn’t drink.

So.

You wanted to talk to me?

Yeah, I do. Thought you’d just sit me in your office, have a consultation.

I like breaking bread with new friends. Have a nice dinner, get the wine flowing — of course, that’s not gonna loosen your tongue, but we’ll forgive it.

Oh. Cool, I like being forgiven.

He laughs at that one and the room, strumming with tension, snaps into amusement. So do you, cracking a half smile on dark red lips, before swallowing down the lump of anxiety threatening to break through and destroy everything. You need this. You need this and you can’t let anything — not your nervousness, not your morals, not him — stop you. You need this and it needs to be done and if this is what justice is in this fucking city then so be it.

Well, sweetness, you’ve got my attention. You want to talk business or pleasure?

That one makes you laugh, a little sharp and a little cruel, and the curling smirk on his face gets a little furrowed because he hears it too — pain.

It could be both, you say finally, picking up the glass of rosé-that-wasn’t, if your reputation is as real as they say it is.

He lifts a bite of cheesecake into his mouth and lets it melt on his tongue while he watches you, somewhere between impressed and incensed. You know the look — you saw it the last time he met you in court, but you weren’t there as allies then. Never thought you’d come to me, he admits finally, sounding halfway bemused at the idea, but you’re full of surprises, aren’t you, Counsel?

You wince, or maybe smirk, eyes on the man before you.

It’s a game, a dance, a ruse, and the woman you thought you were thirteen months ago when you put four of Steve Rogers’s best men in jail for fifteen years — fifteen years longer than any District Attorney had ever managed to do before you, and you were just the rookie they handed a shit case to — is leagues different from the woman you are now, seated prim and proper in the lion’s den.

You’re not innocent. That’s not been your game for years — this life doesn’t leave room for innocence, it tears at you, leaves you tired and broken and ill.

Your colleagues learned to fear him a long time ago, the man before you. Captain America, leading the city, the country, the world into a new era of high tech crime all under his thumb. It’s a pretty shiny shield, the one that sits behind him, but mirrors are black on the other side and his soul is dark as coal.

You’re not an angel yourself, and this deal with the Devil isn’t for anyone but you.

I need someone taken care of.

So you come to me? I thought you were a lady of morals, Counsel.

Certain kinds of morals.

You can see him smile, see the way he raises his glass, the glimmer of malice and amusement in his eyes. So tell me. What’s the name?

You give it.

He’s not in the city, your target, but he will be. A Judge, an activist, real tough-on-crime-sweet-on-justice type of shit. You don’t tell him the reasons why, because those are yours, but you tell him the name. You tell him he’s a problem, you tell him he’s dangerous, you tell him you’ll pay to have him taken care of, you tell him you don’t want to practice in front of that black, black robe.

And he smiles like the Devil he is, watches you with a grin and drinks his whiskey in one last shot before slamming it down, Real woman of the law, aren’t you?

You said that when we met the first time.

He’s a hunter, you can see it in his eyes. That lion’s mane might be tamed right now but it won’t be for long and you’re playing with wild animals. The eyes on you are ice and daggers, daring you to do the one thing everyone in the office has been begging you not to do.

(Drop the charges, Rookie, the case is just to get your face in front of the judge.)

You upped the charges.

(Rookie, you don’t know what you’re dealing with, there’s other cases.)

You subpoenaed his phone records.

(Rookie, don’t make me drag you off this case!)

You won.

You had no witnesses and a jury you had to drag in from god-knows-where after you proved, over and over again, that he’d paid off the cohort in the courtroom. Finding people with nothing to lose and a desire to do their civic duty wasn’t harder than you thought — it was exactly as impossible as you expected.

But you did it.

That’s what you do, isn’t it? Push and push and fight, claw your fingers at the ledge and pull yourself up, you pay for your crimes in your blood, sweat and tears you pay for the things you could have done then and didn’tdo.

You pay.

And sometimes, that payment bounces back.

And when it was all said and done, when the closing statements were delivered, when the Jury came back out and the Judge — hands shaking, mouth agape, eyes wide — read out the verdict no one expected, you… didn’t feel any better, did you? There was no justice for you in that room, just the searing glare of ice-blue eyes and the burning of your steel spine.

Real woman of the law, aren’t you?

First words he said to you, while the courtroom emptied out and you stood there, facing the man you’d just made an enemy of with your briefcase in your hand and your eyes aflame.

I did my job.

Did you? Is that what you think your job is?

My job is justice, unflinching and blind, Mr. Rogers. I don’t care how much power you have or how afraid you leave this city, I’m going to do my job.

You could always let justice turn a blind eye.

Yeah. I could, but that wouldn’t make this any fun, would it? Thank you for the win, Mr. Rogers — I’m sure I won’t get many more.

You leave him with a smile on his face and the scent of your perfume in his memories.

He leaves you with the pride of victory in your bones and a reminder that your strife could be worth it.

One day.

How do you plan to fill that pit, the one you tossed the corpses of your old self into? The one you let them claw up out of, to haunt you? Remind you?

You’re digging your own grave and you know it, but you won’t let Steven Grant Rogers be the first one to toss a handful of dirt over your corpse.

But now here you are.

In his dining room, enjoying dessert and some sort of after-meal coffee. In need of him…

This might almost have been a date, if not for the topic of conversation.

So. You want a Judge taken out. What if he’s already on my payroll?

Why would you keep a dead man in your pocket?

You like the sound of his laugh, and you don’t even have the excuse of wine to fall back on when it warms your core. Don’t admit it though, don’t say it aloud, don’t let him get an in. Be smart, cross your legs tighter, keep your eyes on the prize.

You’re so close to the finish line.

That’s a big favor you’re asking for, Counsel, I think you need to make it worth my while.

Worth your while?

I’m not a charity. And since you put the guy I usually use to handle these things behind bars for a few years—

You know I can get him out too.

That’s not payment, that’s putting things right.

You take a drink. Steady on, girl.

I’m leaving the DA’s office.

That stops him.

Oh that stops him good, and he looks fascinated. Interested. You’ve said something he can use as leverage and it’s not just about a job. That smirk on his face is smug and his eyes are darker and he has to know the impact that look has.

Can’t falter, don’t falter, don’t give in.

Am I allowed to ask why?

No.

You’ve done your research. You just don’t know why you’re thinking about it now. Steven Grant Rogers, “Captain America,” leader of a crime family that had too many names to stamp out, bolstered by a mad scientist, a military man through-and-through who turned New York into his own private base against whatever stood against his way.

Get in his good graces and you’re set for life. Get in his good graces and you’re safe, you’re protected, you’re good.

Get on his bad side and you only make that mistake once.

There are no second chances in this game, and here you are, asking for one.

So what? You leave the DA’s office, you leave yourself open to me — you think leaving New York is going to be the thing that stops me, Counsel?

No.

Then what?

Breathe. Steady.

I know you gave me that win on purpose — you could have taken out my last jury cohort. This isn’t about the four men… and you know I’ll get them out. This is something else, but I’m not here to ask about what or why.

He falters just briefly, like he’s surprised you knew, but the crack in his mask smooths itself over as soon as it forms and he’s back to watching you, nodding along in silence while you breathe and watch him and keep talking.

But even then. I got four of your guys in prison. And I know how your organization works — I subpoenaed the documents, remember? Your lawyers are good, but they’re not used to people asking the right questions. You want someone to seal up the cracks you need someone who actually knows what to look for.

You have more than his attention, you have his interest, and now he’s leaning in a little. Imperceptibly, but enough. Scanning over you from across the table, like he’s thinking how you managed to get so impertinent in the face of the likes of him but that’s the thing — when the only thing you have left to lose is your life, you’ll risk everything.

So what are you offering?

Breathe. Don’t. Stammer.

Myself.

The chair scrapes and suddenly there’s the clicking of guns, aimed and ready until his hand rises up and he stops them and he’s stalking towards you.

This is the lion’s den, sweetness.

The stakes are higher and you ought to be braver and he’s got your chin in his hand before you have a chance to react, dragging you to your feet. Do you know what you’re offering me, Counsel? Low and hissed and hungry, like those perfect teeth might be sinking into your throat in the next moment.

Oh, you have no idea.

You get me. On your payroll — you know. The offer you sent me a year ago.

You think it’s still open?

If it wasn’t, you wouldn’t have met with me.

The chuckle in your face makes your cheeks warm and you’re looking more flushed than you would like, the open shoulders of your dress suddenly feeling a lot more like a mistake the more you realize just what kind of meal he might make out of you tonight.

We might need to have a discussion about your workplace duties, Counsel.

You don’t notice the hand near your thigh until it’s too late, sliding up the soft fabric of your skirt until it’s squeezing your ass, until it’s jerking you towards him, until you’re pressed against his chest and the hand on your chin is now hooked around the back of your neck, thumb pushing your jaw until you’re forced to look at him. Won’t lie, when I woke up this morning, I certainly didn’t think my day would end like this, having your pretty little body in my arms,and you can look as indignant as you want but he’s got the upper hand and you only thought you were two steps ahead of him.

You think I haven’t thought about what it’d be like to put you in your place, Counsel? You’ve got a smart mouth — I wanna know what else it can do.

He doesn’t give you a chance to use that mouth to lash at him, lips sliding over yours, swallowing that indignant yelp with a punishing kiss. Nipping at the plushness of your lower lip until you open your mouth and yield to him with a sigh of reluctant surrender, let his tongue slide past that barrier for him to explore. He’s got his fingers wound through your hair, just a little too tight and whether the whimper in your chest is because of the pain or because of the want, he doesn’t care.

Knew you’d be sweet, Counsel… softly, when he pulls back to look at you, take a look at those love-swollen lips and your ruined lipstick, the pretty way you pant at him already, the heat burning your cheeks. Pay no attention to the slick warmth between your thighs, pay no attention to the way he makes you burn already, pay no attention to how your fingers have curled into the lapel of his coat to hold yourself steady, pay no attention to how you suddenly miss the pressure of his lips.

All that smart-talk and now you’re quiet, Counsel? F’I knew it just took a kiss to get you to shut up, I would’ve done that at trial, he’s purring in your ear, soft and sweet and you should push at his chest, so uncurl your fingers girl and push.

I didn’t say I was selling my body, there’s your harshness, and there he is, laughing at you again, the grip on your hair jerking your head back until you’re looking into those dagger-cold eyes again.

You don’t make the rules here, Counsel, I do, and you need me more than I need you. So if you want to make sure your Judge can’t start wreaking havoc on your career… you might want to get used to readjusting it for me. I promise I’ll make you feel nice, if you let me…

And if I don’t?

Then I take what I want and I don’t feel bad for not holding up my end of the bargain. Your choice, Counsel, you cum willingly and I’ll give you everything you want. Don’t, and it’ll hurt you more than it hurts me.

That’s not a threat, that’s a promise, and suddenly you’re more scared than you ever thought you’d be, wondering if you’ll need to sell another part of your soul to take him down after. How much of yourself will you put up as collateral to get justice for the wrongs you were never able to correct?

You’re afraid.

Oh sweetness, you’re afraid.

Here? Now?

No, Counsel, we’re gonna do this right, aren’t we? You wanna be in bed with me, I’ll take you to bed with me. Come on, say it. Say the word.

Say no. Say no, rail and fight, stamp your heels into the expensive leather of his shoes, jam your knee into the sensitive between his legs, scream and yell and tell him you will never let another man take advantage of you again to help you reach your goals. Do it. Do the thing you swore you would do the next time a man like him — men who think they can take anything from anyone, men who think they own the world and the women in it, men who think you aren’t strong enough to fight back — propositioned you just like this.

You’re selling your soul to get rid of a man just like this.

But that’s coiling heat in your core that wasn’t there the last time, was it? That’s want. That’s the realization that you like the way this predatory smile feels, that you like the way this one wants you. You’re not her, not scared and alone and helpless. You could fight back and run and maybe escape if you were lucky.

You could choose.

He’s let go of your hair to stroke your cheek with the backs of his fingers, soft and sweet, You gonna give me an answer, Counsel, or am I gonna have to take it?

Say something. Say no. Scream. Say no say no say no say— Yes.

It’s a whisper. A desperate, soft whisper. A helpless, lonely whisper. It’s enough.

He sweeps you around until you’re pressed with your back against his unyielding chest, feeling him flex with every movement, broad arm wrapped around your shoulders from the front. All of you are dismissed, and that’s when you remember there were others in the room with you. Others who just watched you concede to becoming Captain America’s newest plaything and the burn on your cheeks is more shame than lust. You pull at his arm briefly, futilely, earning a tighter hold for your efforts and a whispered don’t make me choke you, before you are half-walked, half-dragged out of the dining room.

The walk to his room is slow and agonizing as you’re pulled along, barely struggling but barely helping at the same time, tears sliding down your cheeks as you come to terms with what’s going to happen next — no one is going to save you tonight, no one’s going to interrupt and drag you out, this is your job and this is your place and here you are.

No one speaks. There’s no sound but the steady tap of your heels and his shoes on fine marble. Even your sobs are silent, even your breathing is muffled, until the stairs are traversed and the faintest click of a lock turning opens the door to the rest of your life.

You made a deal.

Time to pay.

Sit on the bed.

You move as if in a trance, and he watches your face, the hint of waterproof mascara failing to do its job, the smudged ruby red of your lipstick. Don’t give me that look, you knew what you were signing up for when you walked into this house, Counsel.

His hands are gentler than you’d expect, when he wipes away the streaks your tears leave down your pretty cheeks, coaxing you to look up at him, We’ll set ground rules later. Tonight? I wanna see if I can get that mouth of yours to beg for me.

It won’t, you snap without thinking, knifeblade sharp and cruel, ready for a fight again. He promised you that once, in a hiss you thought you’d misheard but no, you heard him just fine and now if he thinks he can quench your fire and have you pleading just because you sold your body for the prospect of revenge then he’s wrong.

Thing is, he laughs like that’s a challenge, and the hand holding your chin so gently is wrapped around your throat before you know it, silencing your voice with just the right application of pressure. I can do this all night, Counsel. Do you think you can last that long?

Fear. Anger. Indignation. You are fury made flesh and he is manipulating you with just the barest press of his palm and sliding over you, until you’re laid out there on soft sheets and he’s looming over you, splaying that big hand out and sliding it down your throat, over your chest, feeling the ruching of the fabric under his palm. You wrapped yourself up like a present for me, didn’t you sweetness?

The change in nickname isn’t lost on you but here you are, glaring up at him while he smiles so beatifically it leaves your blood boiling and your skin steadily warming. The rise and fall of your chest is hypnotic, every angry breath a swear you don’t utter, every inhale your protests dying in your throat. What can you say, what would you say, right now? There’s nothing that can change the way he looks at you, or the way his eyes flicker from ice to blue fire the more he takes stock of the pretty little thing he’s about to start sharing his bed with.

Fuck, you’re beautiful, that one shocks you, but not as much as the sudden rush of cold air when he tears the emerald green fabric of your dress down and reveals the soft swells of your breasts, nipples peaked from the sudden cold.

You don’t get much time to gasp, just something soft and strangled before he turns your voice to whimpers, wrapping lips around that pebbled tip and laving his tongue over sensitive flesh. Where are your words now, Counsel, while he threatens the softness of your chest with the scrape of his teeth, when he slides his hands over the round curve of your thighs and parts your legs so he can press himself between them, so he can press himselfagainst you? Where is the knife-dagger of your wit to protest each soft, suckling kiss to your skin, each press of his fingers like he could just squeeze his ownership of you into the plushness of your hips, into the sweet swell of your ass? What do you say to the dirty little thrust of his hips as he bucks with his own burning need, reminding you just how much this is for hispleasure as he will make it for yours.

You would, could, should push him off and instead what are you doing? Curling your fingers into the silk-smooth of his comforter, desperate to writhe out of your own skin away from the burning pressure between your thighs, the foreign, unfamiliar heat you suddenly feel like you might be craving.

Anyone ever touch you like this before me, Counsel?Warm breath splays across your skin when he questions you, eyes fixed on yours and he waits. Answer him, answer him, tell him he’s nothing, tell him you’ve had better, lie and destroy that ego, lie lie lie lie—

Nnnh—no.

He looks like you’ve just told him the best news of his life, eyes wide and blown with lust, Oh is that right? You’re saying no one’s ever touched you this good? Or just no one’s ever touched you at all?

You don’t have to answer. The furious blush on your cheeks? The way your eyes slide away from his? The way you writhe, trying to press your thighs together to relieve the pressure and finding the effort futile? If the man’s grin could get any wider, it would, right now. Oh sweetness, we’re going to have so much fun exploring your body together…

He pulls back just enough to take a look at you, already flushed and writhing and overwhelmed and if he could take a picture of this right now he would. He’ll save that for later though. Tonight? Tonight is just the two of you, and his hands are back to your skirt, pushing the tight fabric up over your round hips and revealing the lace of your panties… just before he rips them off, to the sound of your indignant yelp Steve!

You’re going to call me Captain, sweetness, we’re not close enough to use my name just yet.

No. No you’re not, and he’s not sure you’ll ever be — he rather likes the idea of hearing you whimper out his title when he gets you desperate and wanting.

He touches, slow and steady, watching you try to jerk away and tutting at you when you do, fingers at your delicate nerves like an assault on your pleasure. Bite your lip, bite back the moans, whine at him like he’s wounded you, You’re so wet, sweetness, you’re so desperate for me aren’t you, as he palms his cock to relieve the pressure on himself. You’re going to beg before he does and he’s patient, he’ll last the night.

St-stop it, it’s too— he shushes you ahtahtaht and rests his free hand on your mound, holding you down so his probing, inspecting fingers can take stock of the velveteen plushness of your delicate cunt. It’s too much, too much and you want to scream the moment he presses one finger into you, already overwhelmed, already so tightly wound the barest touches are unraveling you steadily.

You’re such a pretty thing, all desperate and needy, sweetness. You wanna cum already, don’t you? So busy, never gave anyone the chance to fuck that stuck-up bitch right out of you, did they? It’s almost pitying, isn’t it, the way he talks, hums at you while you’re reduced to a whining, whimpering mess so soon, so desperate for the release he’s on the edge of denying you, feeling you flexing around his finger and then the second leaping jolt of your body when another joins the inspection. Taking careful stock of the pretty cunt he owns now, and he’s careful to curl his fingers just right as he seeks the spot to hammer just to get you to scream.

You don’t, not yet, but that’s okay too, because he sees the way you take desperate hold of the sheets, the way your eyes roll backwards just slightly, the way you strain against his heavy hand to arch your back. Gotta tell you, sweetness, I imagined you under me a thousand and one ways but this one, right now? Tops the list. You ready to beg for me?

Do it. Do it and end your pleasurable torment. Do it and be released from the pressure, the coiling want. Surrender to him. Let him have you.

The white hot rush of your orgasm is not unexpected to him, his curling, cruel fingers having found the sweetness of your g-spot, but — you, too busy climbing the ranks to think of your own pleasure, too busy demanding your due from an unjust world explore your own warmth beyond that of a memory of a college hookup you would rather forget — you left breathless and wanton in the heat of the explosion he draws out of you, mewling something desperate and pleading against your own will and the song of it fills his ears like it’s all he’s ever wanted. There it is, and I thought we’d be here all night. A thumb flickers over the nerves at your entrance and you practically jump, something between a yelp and a moan escaping your lips.

First one’s just a treat, sweetness. Now on, you cum when I say you do, understand?

You nod.

Oh you nod, and you are lost, here and now. Sensitive and broken and there is so little of that steel spine here, writhing in his sheets and ohyou don’t know the things you do to him.

Think you can go again, sweetness? He’s purring, smug, twisting fingers stretching you slowly, muttering under his breath about how fucking tight you are around his fingers, how good you’re going to feel for him, and the smugness on his face is slowly fading into a dark consternation, brows furrowed like he’s somehow angry at you for being plush and delicate and fuckable.

You’re almost begging him to stop, and yet the pressure is building again, the twisting, coiling heat that leaves you breathless and mewling and he looks like he might be trying to immortalize this moment forever. Say it, sweetness. Say you need me. Beg me for my cock.

That’s it.

That’s what you need to, you need to beg, you need to give in. No more fighting, no more arguing no more —

Please…

Please what, sweetness, come on now. You got a way with words. The snarl is so barely contained.

Please, Captain, please just…

What do you need, sweetness? The fingers are relentless, the buzz in your nerves is overwhelming, you can barely even hear yourself talk, much less him.

Please just fuck me, Captain, I need your cock! It’s hurried and it’s crude and it’s desperate and it’s exactly what he wants as just another wall crumbles and you fall off your pedestal right into his arms.

He’s barely able to resist the buck of his hips, the need to be inside you, the knowledge that you are soft and velvet and you could be all over his senses just like this.

When did he free his cock? You don’t know, you just know it’s practically salvation when he sinks into you, when he fills you like you’ve been desperate for and Oh sweetness…pours from his lips just as you hiss out something like praise right back at him.

You’re so full and he’s so gentle, at first, like you’re made of crystal in his arms, like the slow shifting of his hips might have you shattering underneath him if he’s not careful. Cradling you, even, sliding your legs around his narrow hips as he leans in and takes a hungry kiss from your wanting, whimpering mouth.

Love this look on you, all wrapped around me, whispered low and slow into your ear, sweetness you have no idea how good you look…

Melt into those compliments, melt into him, because the way he’s holding you is divine and you can feel him so deep in you it’s making your head spin. When did your arms end up around him? When did you start clinging to him like an anchor, start winding your fingers through his hair, start leaving the marks of your nails on his back to the sound of his own needy groaning?

He noses your cheek and leaves a mark of ownership on your neck with hungry lips, knowing you’ll bruise a beautiful flower right over your pulsebeat and continuing the steady assault on your nerves, cunt-first.

Harder. Faster. More.

And oh, sweetness, you do shatter.

You shatter all around him, you shatter into something divine and rapturous, full of him and filled with him and he cums so deep inside you as you do, still fucking you through your joined climax, hips rutting and breath hitching and nearly furious at you for the way his vision whites out too, the way he feels like he can Never get enough and so he hisses that at you like an accusation while his thoughts reorient back to reality, back to smugness, back to the control you took from him while he tried to strip you of yours.

In the end, as he pulls away from you and sinks to the side of you, watching your sweet expression as you return to the reality of your new situation, he is satisfied… thoroughly.

Oh yeah, I think we can make this a working relationship, Counsel.

#siris5ksoftdarkchallenge #steve rogers x reader #mob!au #mob!steve #steve rogers x you #steve rogers smut #dark!fic #dark captain america #captain america #writing challenge

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mischief-marauders · 4 years

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Ok hear me out. Canon compliant Marauders era storyline BUT one change. Regulus survives the inferi and tells Sirius and James that Peter is working for Voldemort and planning to betray them. Which leads to:

The order setting up a trap at Godrics Hollow. When Voldemort comes to kill Harry, he’s surrounded by the order of the Phoenix and taken out. Killed. Stopped. Murdered!

The war is over. There’s still some fighting while the aurors try to get the rest of the death eaters to Azkaban. The ones they do have are judged and sentenced to Azkaban for 20 years. Some people see Voldemort as a martyr and keep doing his work in secret

Regulus goes before the ministry and pleads guilty to his crimes as a death eater but due to statements from Dumbledore, Sirius, and James testifying on his work in bringing down Voldemort, he spends 1 year in Azkaban instead of a 20 year imprisonment like Peter and Snape. Regulus is visited weekly by Sirius where they laugh and talk about his plans for when he gets out.

The Marauders are tired of fighting. They’re young and feel as though they’ve lived lifetimes. They lost their innoncence and youth in a war that wasn’t theirs. They don’t want to fight anymore. They don’t want to destroy. They want to build. They want to help bring the wizarding world back to its former glory. So they all study to become professors because what better way can they help rebuild the wizarding world than to teach the next generation and help them be better so that they would never go through the same things they did.

After years of studying and getting degrees, they all apply to Hogwarts as professors. It’s difficult for James and Lily to juggle being professors and parents but they always make it work. Dumbledore is thrilled to have his former and favorite students back to teach.

Lily Potter becomes Professor Evans of potions (she teaches with her maiden name because she studied and earned her degree, not her husband) with a glowing recommendation from a retiring Slughorn. She’s a fantastic professor. A little strict but always helpful and puts her students first. After a year of teaching, she asks Dumbledore for an teachers assistant. Dumbledore was a little iffy on who she wanted but he welcomed a shy yet extremely intelligent Regulus Black to the Hogwarts staff as her assistant.

Sirius Black becomes Professor Black of transfiguration. When McGonagall asked him what experience he had in transfiguration, he turned into Padfoot in front of her. He explained, rather sheepishly, about what they did back in their third year for Remus. She was angry of course because of how risky it was but also very impressed and proud of him for completing one of the most difficult and dangerous transfigurations. She gave him a letter of recommendation on the spot. They became co teachers and taught different classes of students. He helped balance out her strict nature with his warm and humorous one.

James Potter becomes Professor Potter of charms. He wasn’t sure which subject would fit him best but he decided to go after charms. And it was the best choice he could’ve made because he was amazing at teaching the subject. Flitwick loved having him as a student and was so happy that James came back to teach. The students loved being in his class because he brought so much energy and constructive teaching.

Remus Lupin became Professor Lupin of defense against the dark arts. The position fit him like a glove. The students loved his class. He was such a good professor that he broke the curse on the defense against the dark arts position and remained in the position for years and years to come. He was monumental in decreasing stigma against werewolves and taught from his own experience.

James and Sirius of course had pranks they would pull on each other’s classes. The students LIVED for their mock rivalry. Sirius’ favorite prank was to replace James’ wand with a mock replica and burst out laughing from outside the classroom when James would try to demonstrate a charm and nothing happened.

Once a month, James, Remus, and Sirius would head to Azkaban and visit Peter. At first he refused to even look them in the face. But after about a year of visits, he asked for their forgiveness and eventually they forgave him. They never trusted him again but they did forgive him. Peter looked forward to these visits. It did wonders for his mental health.

Lily would come along on these visits and sit down with Snape. He was embarrassed at first and refused to see her. But after coming again and again, he finally saw her. And they talked. They laughed and talked about their childhoods. And eventually she forgave him after many, many years. He started taking responsibility for his actions instead of blaming others and eventually (years and years later), asked Lily if James would accompany her. And he apologized for his role that almost killed Harry. And James apologized for being a dick. They weren’t friends or allies but rather just not enemies anymore. They let go of a foolish childhood rivalry.

When McGonagall retired early, James and Sirius battled for head of Gryffindor house. It got so bad that Dumbledore tweaked the rules so that they could be co-heads of Gryffindor house. James worked closely with the quidditch team while Sirius worked closely with the prefects

#hogwarts #sirius black #james potter #remus lupin #lily evans #Marauders #Marauders era #young marauders #wolfstar #jily

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nini-trash-forever · 3 years

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Jealousy

Luca Changretta x gn (gender neutral) reader

Luca had convinced you to come with him to a “business meeting”. He tended to get bored during things like this. So why not bring someone that could never bore him? He was meeting with some of the other Italians so that they could talk about their next move. You were finishing up the final touches of your outfit to fit in at the restaurant the meeting would be at. Luca came up behind you and admired your reflection in the mirror.

“My love,” he said in Italian as he put his arms around you. He couldn’t help but appreciate what you’re wearing. No matter what you wore, he would appreciate it. You could be wearing a burlap sack for all he cared. You started studying Italian about a month ago so you think you know what he said, but you weren’t sure. Therefore, you just smiled at him through the mirror and hoped for the best. “Are you ready to leave?” You nodded and grabbed your coat and walked out the door to go to his car.

His car pulled up to a local restaurant, Salerno’s. It’s owned by an older couple who came over from Italy a few years ago. You had met the owners, Gabriele and Sofia, a few times and they were sweet people, they minded their own business but would take care of their customers as if they were family. It’s very homely inside and the smell wafts through the air even from the outside. Luca offered his hand to you and led you inside. The delicious smell of freshly baked bread became stronger the farther you went into the restaurant. You stopped and dropped Luca’s hand.

You softly greeted Sofia with a smile and a hug. During one of your previous visits, she hinted at you being able to call her nonna, but you expressed you weren’t quite at that level yet, but you might be one day. Luca had never held a meeting here before, but did so on your recommendation. This is also his first time here. So, he was clearly shocked to find out you were somewhat close with the owners. Sofia leaned close to your ear and whispered just loud enough for Luca to hear, “Is this him?”

“Good evening. My name is Luca.” Sofia didn’t react at first, looking him over for what seemed to be the third time. Was she judging if he was good enough for you? You nudged her a little, but she remained silent.

“Luca, this is Sofia. She and her husband own this restaurant. They treat everyone like family, especially me. So please be good to them.” Sofia smiled and pulled you into a side hug. She also knew that you weren’t good enough at Italian to understand what she was about to say, and she did so with a smile.

“If I find out that you hurt them or someone they care about, I will rip out your tongue and serve it up as a specialty for dinner service.” Luca’s eyes went wide with the threat, you were oblivious. “I think it’s time for me to lead you to your table, hmm?” You nodded and followed Sofia, taking Luca’s hand in your own, but for some reason his grip was very loose. You were concerned.

“Baby, what’s wrong?”

He swallowed thickly before replying, “Nothing. Just thirsty.” You didn’t quite believe him, but ignored it as you approached your table. You turned to Sofia and thanked her. Luca nodded as a thanks and she gave him a death stare but left to attend to the wait staff. That was suspicious.

“She said something to you, didn’t she?”

“Yes.”

“Are you going to tell me what she said?” You both sat down, him at the head of the table closest to the kitchen and you to his left.

“No.”

“Smart man,” Sofia said as she walked towards the kitchen. You laughed wholeheartedly at her response. Now it is just a waiting game.

Slowly, the people filed into the restaurant. As the meeting time got closer, larger groups came in until almost the entire restaurant was full of Luca’s associates. You were surprised at just how many people were there. The wait staff came through to take drink orders and get those passed out with menus so that everyone could order their meals. It seemed like utter chaos to you, but controlled chaos to Sophia. Sophia made sure everyone’s orders were taken without a problem.

Orders were delivered to the kitchen where Gabriele and the chefs would make sure they were made to standard. You had watched him work the pass once. It was amazing to see his command and grace running the kitchen and his standard of food was one of the many reasons people came back for more. You knew that there would likely be little to no problems with the food tonight even with a packed restaurant. Within twenty minutes, appetizers started coming out of the kitchen to those who ordered them. Luca had raised his eyebrow at your choice of appetizer because most Italian restaurants weren’t able to get it right (at least in his opinion). You gave him a taste of it, though, and he seemed genuinely surprised at how good it is.

“Wow,” he said, “that’s delicious! I sort of wish I had gotten one for myself.” You smile at his statement.

“When this is over I can ask Gabriele and Sophia to make some extra for us to take with us. Would you like that?” Luca hummed and nodded his head in response. He gave you a look that let you know he adored you. The last appetizer was delivered and the first part of the meeting started. This consisted of them going over major changes since the last meeting everyone was at. It then went on to making sure everyone was on the same page about minor changes and decisions. Soon you spaced out and thought of the entrées that were being cooked in the kitchen. You had excused yourself to quickly use the restroom and talk to Sophia for a minute. By the time you got back, the food was almost ready to be served. Once it was, everyone in the room looked like they were ready to devour everything on their plates.

It seemed that everyone enjoyed their meal and dessert was served not too long after. The meeting continued on after and it seemed as though it was never going to end. You’d silently hoped that Luca could see the boredom on your face. He did. He saw the boredom, but there wasn’t much he could do. Everything being discussed was incredibly important. Eventually the meeting came to a close and most of those from the meeting had left. Some stayed behind to get extra food like you and Luca. One man had stated his wife probably wouldn’t let him in the house if he didn’t get something for her as well.

You drank quite a bit of water throughout the meeting and decided to relieve yourself once again before you left. There was a problem, though. A man who was in the meeting that seemed to be drunk was standing outside the restroom door. He was giving you a look that made you very uncomfortable and was calling you pet names that made it even weirder. This continued to happen until you stood by Luca who was paying for dinner. The strange man still did not catch on to who you were with as he said a certain phrase very loudly that you would never forget, “Hey, sweetheart! How much is he payin’ for ‘ye? I’ll double it. I could treat ‘ye real nice.” With Sophia and Luca right there, you knew something would happen but you pretended to ignore him. You gave them each a look for them to ignore what he was saying in hopes he would just go away. Eventually he did, grumbling how he didn’t think you were that good looking anyway. Luca’s jaw was clenched during this interaction. You could tell it bothered him. It certainly wasn’t the first time a creepy man had propositioned you.

It turned out that everyone had enjoyed their meals and most planned to come back with their families in the future. You grabbed the extra food and said goodbye to Sophia and Gabriele and headed to the car with Luca. His jaw was still clenched. You didn’t say anything to him. This wasn’t because you didn’t want to talk, but rather you didn’t know what to say.

The ride home was a little too silent for your liking. At this point you could feel the anger radiating off of him. He slammed the house door closed. You had tried to talk to him after getting back but he couldn’t handle it at first. You know he wasn’t upset with you. He was just angry that someone would have the audacity to say that to you, and that he didn’t do anything about it (on your wishes).

After a while, he came back to the room you’d stayed in and kissed you harshly. This went on for a couple minutes and he pulled back. It became very clear to you that he wanted your permission to go after the man who’d said those things to you. You declined. “But, y/n, I just want to talk to him for a—”

“The answer is no. I will not allow you to go after a drunk man no matter what horrific things he said to or about me. I am not that kind of person. End of discussion.” He nodded in defeat and hung his head onto your shoulder. Some time later, you both made your way upstairs and changed for bed. Snuggled close together, you sighed as you slowly fell into slumber.

As sleep started to take over you, you briefly heard Luca say something you didn’t understand. “I love and respect you. However, I cannot just let that man get away with it. I will personally make sure he pays. I just hope you can forgive me.” He held you tighter and you fell asleep in each other's arms.

#luca changretta #luca changretta imagine #luca changretta x reader #peaky blinders #peaky blinders imagine #peaky blinders x reader

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wri0thesley · 3 years

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A Well Rounded Education (4): Equality Statement (Fem!Reader x Naoya Zenin, 7.5k)

series synopsis: you are a teacher’s aid to teacher Gojo Satoru, training to be able to take over your own class next year by shadowing and helping him out. gojo, unfortunately, does not make things easy for anybody.

chapter synopsis: you make the mistake of crossing naoya zenin at a sports festival and are forced to apologise. but as you well know by now, nothing ever seems to go to plan where any of your student’s fathers are concerned.

NSFW. MINORS DNI. AFAB reader, fem pronouns. misogyny, weird power dynamics, hate-sex, piv sex, blowjobs. naoya.

(a well rounded education m.list and navigation) ♡ (jujutsu kaisen masterlist)

The Saturday morning that your first ever undokai is scheduled for dawns bright and early, and you can’t help the little thrill that goes through you at the golden fingers of dawn lighting up your room. There’d been talk of the weekend bringing rain, and things needing to be rescheduled – but it’s perfect weather, as you put on a comfortable tank top and shorts instead of your neat pencil skirt and suit jacket combination.

This will be your first event of the kind, and you’re excited about it. The kids in the class have been practising all of their cheers and routines and the like constantly, whilst the ones involved in the competitive sports have been cheering one another on and snatching time when they can to race against one another in preparation. It’s been nice to see all of the camaraderie between them – even some of the quieter ones have seemed to come a little bit out of their shell, with so much team spirit in the air.

Well. Most of them have. You’ve noticed Junpei still hanging back, face sad, uncomfortable when other boys crowd him and tug him off to who knows where – probably to get him involved in their own practises or rehearsals.

It’s been long and hard preparing for it, but even Gojo has been focused on something for once.

“There’s just something about events like this!” Gojo chirped to you, once, as he’d held up a megaphone he did not really need and called his class back into formation in front of him. “You know! The joy of youth! I want them to have the best time possible! They deserve it.”

Seeing Gojo’s mischievous eyes sparkle with determination instead of humour had made you smile at him, and you’d felt a strange pull in your chest when he’d smiled back, needing to pull your gaze away to ask Yuuji to stop poking Megumi in the back to get him to look at a weird caterpillar he’d found on the ground.

As a junior high undokai, things are a little more competitive than they might be if this were an elementary school or even a middle school event, but there’s still a big emphasis on the teamwork and the cheering on portion of the day. You’ve watched and applauded what feels like a hundred practises for the cheering section, confiscating whistles when they’re sneakily blown whilst you’re trying to teach a mathematics lesson.

Still, you’re not surprised to see that Gojo’s class have been corralled into his classroom whilst your vivacious teacher and mentor gives them a rallying encouragement that seems to contain a lot of bigging up the fact that they are, in fact, his class.

“I thought the pep talk was for them,” you say, as heads turn to you when you walk into the room. It’s strange to see all of the faces dressed in their gym uniforms instead of their school uniforms – and it’s even stranger to be wearing an approximation of it yourself.

“You look nice!” Yuji pipes up, and you smile at him.

“It is for them,” Gojo brings a hand to his sunglasses to push them down a little, giving you a charming smile and the full force of the galaxies swirling in his eyes. “I’m just reminding them that as Satoru Gojo’s class, of course they’re going to do well! We’re going to be the strongest, and win!” He looks at all of them – bright shining faces turned to him, all lit up with the excitement of competition. There’s something in him that you rarely see right now – something encouraging and bright and compassionate. He genuinely seems to want them to do well. “I believe in all of you!”

The warmth spreading through your chest at Gojo’s words is a new experience. You’re far more used to exasperation and frustration where he’s concerned.

But now, you can’t help the infectious smiles of the children and the determination in their face to do well enough for everyone to be proud of. Maybe Gojo isn’t so bad after all, you think, as he bids the children in the class farewell and tells them to go and join everyone else outside in preparation for the day’s events.

“What d’you think?” He asks you, as Junpei leaves the room, still dragging his feet a little. You can’t blame him. He’s involved in the cheering section, as so many of the less athletic kids are, but the undokai is not optional and you think that Junpei is the kind of boy who hates being looked at. “Are we gonna win?”

“I don’t think that’s quite the point of the exercise,” you say, eventually. “We’re supposed to be fostering team spirit and co-operation--”

“Yeah,” Gojo wrinkles his nose and grins. “But we’re still gonna win, right?”

You sigh.

“With Yuji and Maki? Probably. But that’s not the point!”

Gojo stands up and stretches his arms out above him. He’s in a shirt that clings tight to a surprisingly muscled abdomen, and dark grey sweatpants. He’s never been the ‘formal wear’ kind of teacher, but it’s still jarring to see him dressed so casually – and even more jarring to realise that he’s handsome, despite the fact you’ve spent most of the last few months rolling your eyes and sighing and cursing the world that you’ve ended up having to endure Satoru Gojo so much.

“I know, I know – but it’s nice to think about, right?” His grin is infectious. “Did you have time to have breakfast this morning? I know it’s an earlier start than usual, I’ve got a spare blueberry muffin in my bag – hope it didn’t get crushed too badly by my stretches--”

“I’m fine,” you tell him, already dreading the idea of him pressing a crumbled muffin into your hand. “I had a healthy, nutritious breakfast.”

“So did I!” He says, hotly. “The blueberry muffin had fruit in it, croissants are glazed with egg so that’s protein, and I had a slice of honey on toast too just because I felt like I’d have to keep my energy up today--”

You are constantly impressed by how he manages to consume all of this sugar without going into overdrive – then again, maybe that does explain a lot about him.

“I don’t really know what I’m supposed to be doing today,” you admit to him. “I mean, I know I’m here to cheer on the kids and stuff, but I don’t know what my role’s supposed to be--”

“Oh!” He comes around and begins to walk out of the classroom, beckoning you to follow him. “Didn’t I tell you? They told me ages ago--” He did not tell you. You don’t know why you find this a surprise. “You’re gonna be in charge of the refreshments table for the first half of the morning – Yuta, you know, the other teacher’s aid, he’ll relieve you for the second half so you can cheer us on and help me a bit. Not that I’ll need it! It’s not a hard job, just be polite to anyone who needs to use it, most of ‘em bring their own lunches and snacks but we find that it’s always good to have a table with some extras – especially when it’s so hot outside!”

“You didn’t,” you say, but you follow him anyway. You have learnt by now that the most you’ll get from Gojo is a shrug and an airy ‘sorry’. And you suppose, in the grand scheme of things, this isn’t so bad. It’s not like you needed to have time to stop and prepare yourself to give people a polite smile and ask them if they’d like you to pour them a glass of water.

The two of you spill out into the grounds of the school, which is already full of excited students and proud parents. You recognise a few of them – your face heats up as you see Nanami forcibly pressing a bottle of sunscreen into Yuji’s hands, and as the two of you walk past Geto who is tying back Mimiko and Nanako’s hair, ensuring the team hats that the students are all wearing sit neatly on their heads.

There’s a man stood with Maki and Mai who you assume is their father; a blond with a sneering face and a presence that makes you feel like you shouldn’t even be looking at him. Maki has her arms crossed, her chin jutting forward – the two of them are clearly involved in some kind of argument. Even as you watch, some other men are walking towards him with their heads bowed, like he’s something special.

You vaguely recall that you’ve heard some tell about the Zenins being a very rich, very old, very respected family. Judging from the way he carries himself and the way people keep looking at him, you think that must be it.

“Is that Maki and Mai’s dad?” You ask, curiously, as you’re pushed past him towards a collection of tables beneath a bright yellow awning. Gojo makes a noise that sounds like a sigh.

“Yep,” he says, sounding short. There’s some kind of history there, you think. “That’s Naoya Zenin. Better for you to avoid him, if you can – he’s not the kind of guy you want to cross, y’know?”

“But Maki’s--”

“Absolutely nothing like him,” Gojo deposits you in front of a table heaped with water jugs, ice cubes and plastic cups. “Really.”

You wrinkle your nose as you look around. At least everyone else seems happy – excited, buzzing with energy and the promise of an exciting day ahead. You can’t help but worry about Maki’s expression, though. She had looked like her and her father were having an argument that had been going on for months--

Gojo waves at you as he jogs across the field, moving surprisingly quickly for a man who ate nothing but sugar for his breakfast. You watch him go, unable to stop a smile forming on your face as he pauses by Maki and Mai. He slaps a hand onto Maki’s shoulder and says something with a bright grin that she seems to respond to with a smile, turning to follow him. Her father’s eyes narrow, as he spits something that even you can work out is venomous at the retreating backs of one of his daughters. He sighs as he says something else to Mai, a smile almost tugging at the corners of his mouth as his attention shifts back to her.

It’s clear who the golden child is there, then.

You try and shake your thoughts away from Naoya Zenin and his two girls and concentrate on the place that you’ve been given, reminding yourself that even if it doesn’t seem like a big role, you all have to work hard to make sure that today is a success. Your students have been practising and getting excited for this event for weeks, and you want all of the parents to be as proud of their students as you are.

You have a good view from the refreshments table of everything that’s going on. You watch a few of the races, a few cheering displays from the other classes to the beat of the drums – and when kids run up to you, sweaty and panting, you hand them a plastic cup full of cool water and they thank you as if you harvested it from a spring yourself instead of merely pouring it out.

Some parents ask you politely who you are, and you tell them with a smile and a bright look, hoping that you being friendly and polite will get back to other people. A few of them exchange looks when they hear that you’re attached to Gojo’s class; the man has a reputation that follows him everywhere. You give out oranges and other pieces of fruit to some of the students who need an extra sugar boost, or the ones who have a bandage wrapped around their knee or grazes from falls that have recently been cleaned. Shoko is busy today, and you often see her direct these injured children to you as a rest stop, and so their parents can find them easily.

You pause for a moment as the names are called for a relay race, and you hear Maki and Mai being summoned. This is the first race that they’re taking part in – if their team wins this one, they’ll qualify for the final this afternoon. You can see Gojo lifting his arms and hollering and hear his loud, excited voice even with all of the other people crowding into the school grounds to watch, and despite yourself you feel a smile spread over your face.

You’re still smiling when you hear a scoff.

You turn around to see what the fuss is – only to see Naoya Zenin, holding a plastic cup of water as if it’s offended him mortally. Seeing you looking at him, his lip curls.

“Is this tap water?” He asks you. He has a curious accent; slow, drawling, and clearly much superior to your own. It’s not an accent that Maki and Mai have inherited – and as he raises one eyebrow, the sun catching the rings in his ears, you find yourself glad of it. “Well?”

“I think so,” you say. You are on edge. He peers into it, and sighs.

“Don’t you have anything better? Cell-gen or Tennensui or even I LOHAS, at least?” He speaks to you slowly, like you’re a child, or as if he’s not sure whether a peasant like you would even know the names of any bottled water brands. You can’t stand being talked down to, and you curl your hand into a fist as you say, trying to keep yourself polite;

“I’m sorry, Sir. There’s just this.”

“You’d think with the money pumped in-- fine.” He sighs, taking a sip of the water, his face scrunching in displeasure at – you don’t know. The disgusting taste of tap water, you suppose. You try not to look at the bob of his throat as he swallows. Everything about this man seems to be unpleasant except the way he looks.

You take your own cup of water, just to quell some of the dryness that has made itself known in your throat at interacting with him.

The cheering gets a little quieter, and you turn to see what’s happened. As it turns out, all that’s actually happened is Gojo has stopped putting forth his own shouts to the fray, his eyes focussed on you and Naoya, a look that you think is almost sympathy spread across his face. You see that the race is about to begin, and you don’t look at Naoya as you say;

“You’re Maki and Mai’s father, aren’t you? Their first race is about to start. Maki’s been training really hard, I think she’ll pip it for us—”

A dark presence at your shoulder, and a sneering, uppity drawl.

“I gather you’re the teaching aid I’ve been hearing so much about from everyone.” he says. It does not sound like a compliment. “Maki has really found you . . . encouraging.” He says it like it’s a dirty word.

You force yourself to remain cheerful, and not ask him what the fuck his problem is.

“Maki’s really talented,” you say. “Mai’s fast, too – they’re both really good representatives for the class--”

Naoya snorts.

“They should be on the sidelines,” he says, coolly. “Supporting the men. Not running. Not getting all sweaty and hot and messing up their hair and their pretty faces.” He shakes his head. “It’s unwomanly, and if Maki listened to a word I’d said, she wouldn’t be doing it.”

“Mai is doing it too,” you point out, hating yourself for getting involved in this. But you just can’t let him stand there and be such an asshole, spewing his narrow-minded ideas when there are impressionable girls around.

“Mai’s already agreed that if they win this race, she’ll ask one of the boys to switch in for her. I’ve sorted it with the principal. It’s not ladylike for her to do any more than she has to. She’s not going to get a husband in good standing based on her athletic prowess--”

Oh, this is too far. You’re seething, though you’re trying to keep your respectable face on. You’re at work, you’re at work, you’re at work--

“Perhaps there are some other things they consider more important than finding a husband, at the age of twelve?”

Naoya’s laugh is nasty, mocking – and you hate that there’s something in it that sends a curl of heat right through you, blooming between your thighs.

“The younger a girl learns her place,” he says, his voice very slow. “The better it is and easier it is for a man to be assured she’ll do her duties. I don’t see a ring on your finger, Miss – I’d hate for them to end up working some dead-end little job just because they don’t have anyone to cook and clean for--”

Nope.

You can’t take it any longer.

You turn and you throw the cup of ‘shitty tap water’ in your hand right over Naoya Zenin’s stupid, smug, asshole face.

Gojo, for what you think must be one of the first time in his life, looks uncomfortable.

“I didn’t know you were going to throw water on him,” he tries to say, weakly. “Look, we all hate him, but . . . ugh. This is so frustrating! I hate all of this bureaucracy bullshit--”

It turns out that Naoya Zenin’s family – and Naoya Zenin himself – donate rather a lot of money to the school for such functions as the one you’re all currently attending. It turns out that nobody wants to piss off the bank-roll that’s keeping their gym maintained, their events fancy and expensive, the library well-stocked – and you get that! You really do! You know that school budgets are overstretched already, and that donors like the Zenin family are something to be gently courted and kept around for as long as humanly possible.

You just wish that the big donor for this school was anybody else.

“I didn’t know all of this,” you say, reasonably. “I know I shouldn’t have thrown a drink over him, but Mr. Gojo--”

“How many times? You can call me Satoru.”

“If you’d heard the way he was talking--”

“Oh, believe me,” Gojo’s full lips press into a thin line. “I know exactly what Naoya Zenin’s modus operandi is. Let me guess: he was all on at you about how Maki’s not a proper young lady, how the boys should be doing the hard work, how he’s trying to make sure his daughters get a proper start and a rich husband – ugh.” Gojo tugs at his shirt, clearly frustrated. “I’ve had it way too much.”

“Yeah,” you say. You find yourself sighing too.

“The Vice Principal’s in his back pocket,” Gojo says, taking a seat on top of the desk that you’re currently sat behind, cooling off some of your anger – Principal Masamichi had sent you inside to calm you down, and Naoya himself had been escorted into the building by Vice Principal Gakuganji to dry off, all the while saying placating things to calm down the school’s meal ticket. “They want you to apologise to him.”

“I suppose I should,” you say miserably. “But it’s gonna feel like swallowing gravel.”

“I certainly don’t blame you,” Gojo says, with a smile, trying to cheer you up. “Hell, I know some of the other staff members have been dying to do it--”

“Ugh,” you bury your face in your hands. “This is a horrible impression in front of the whole school.”

He pats you gently on the shoulder.

“Hey,” he says, “when this is all over, I’ll take you out for ice cream. I know the best places in the city, and they all know me too!”

You summon a smile for him. He’s not so bad, really – sure, he’s chaotic and thinks too highly of himself for his own good, but . . . at least he’s nothing like Naoya. You stand up and pull down your shorts, wriggling your tank top down to cover you as much as you possibly can. You feel a bit exposed, not in heels and stockings and a blouse.

“I should get this over with, then.”

Gojo has too much to do back on the field to escort you to Naoya himself, so he tells you that Naoya’s in the Vice Principal’s office and gives you another friendly squeeze on the shoulder.

“Good luck,” he tells you. “Remember: ice cream at the end of this!”

“Ice cream at the end of this,” you repeat, as you watch him jog out of the corridor. You’re almost tempted to tell him off for running in the halls – Gojo moves so fast that sometimes you lose track of him entirely – but you push back the urge. Gojo is being decent today. You’re thankful to him for sitting with you and helping you calm – and also, evidently, for being one of the things that keeps Maki’s fighting spirit inflamed.

You stand there for a moment, in front of the door to the office, balling up your courage tight and hot in your stomach. You do not want to have to apologise to Naoya, but you know it’s for the best. The sooner you can put this sorry incident behind you and try and avoid Naoya at every single function from herein, the better – so you tap hard on the door and wait until you hear his slow, drawling voice.

“You can come in.”

At first, you’re surprised to see that he’s alone in there – sitting in front of the desk in a comfortable chair, clearly at ease with everything. His arms are sprawled over the back of it, his legs wide apart. You chastise yourself for thinking it immediately – of course the vice principal is busy right now, of course he trusts someone as well-known to the school as Naoya to be alone in his office.

It’s hard not to think about every other time you’ve found yourself alone with the parents of your students, though. A heat crawls onto your face at the very thought of it. You find Naoya repellent, disgusting – but then again, he’s also (and you’re not being glib about it) handsome. You’d be lying if you’d said you sometimes hadn’t ignored a man’s personality for a night in favour of a face and a body that had drawn you in.

Not now.

You close the door behind you, clasping your hands together so you don’t clench your fists, and bow your head so that Naoya can’t tell that you’re grinding your teeth.

“I’m sorry for letting my emotions get the better of me, Sir,” you say, though it really does feel like you are gnashing ice to get the words out. “I should have been more polite. I can assure you it won’t happen again.”

“Mmm,” Naoya says, and you peek up at him through your lashes to see that he’s clearly enjoying having you at his mercy, his lips tilted into a smirk. His hair is still a little wet at the ends, but all that you throwing the water over him seems to have actually done is made his shirt cling tight to a surprisingly chiselled chest and stomach. Asshole. Fuck him. “Yes. I should hope not.”

You straighten yourself up, still a little stiff.

“I hope you can forgive me,” you say. “I . . . I am still learning my place in the establishment.”

He laughs, low and soft.

“Your place?” He asks, the words dangerously sweet on his tongue. “Yes. I can see you still need some help on that one.”

His eyes crawl over you slowly, dragging up and down the length of you, lingering over where your shorts cling to your hips and the tank top hugs your chest. You resist the urge to shift – you don’t want to let him know that he’s making you uncomfortable. You know, though, that he can sense that you have gone hot and prickly all over. He has that smug air; the one men who know what they do to people always seem to have cultivated. The knowledge that they are good-looking.

You suppose for Naoya, it’s the heady combination of knowing he is good-looking and powerful and rich, and you breathe through the force of all of his attention concentrated on you.

“Seeing as you’re still . . . new to all of this,” he says, bringing an arm forward to tap his long fingers on the desk. “And you did apologise prettily, I suppose I can forgive this transgression – just this once, darling.”

The pet name crawls up your spine like ice. He’s still staring at you, enjoying the view like you’re a piece of meat on a market stall he’s considering purchasing.

“Th-thank you, Sir,” you say, hating yourself a little bit but hating him all the more.

“You know,” he says. “You’re not exactly bad-looking.” He stands, rising to his full height, stretching out, frustratingly comfortable in this environment when you feel like a deer who’s about to turn tail and flee at any moment. “You’d be much better off at home raising children than here.” He wrinkles his nose. “Working for a living.” The way that he says the words makes it clear that he considers this a task far beneath the likes of him.

He’s moving towards you now, and your breath seems to get stuck in your throat as he’s suddenly in front of you, stalking elegantly. You want to snap back something about how you’d rather work for a living than have to rely on the whims of a man, much less a man like him – but as he grabs your chin to tilt it up to the light, you find that the words seem to die in your throat.

“Hmm,” he says. “Not bad at all.” He makes an approving noise that sends a flutter right through you, making you dully aware of a pounding ache between your thighs. He leans a little further in, until he’s so close that you can see the pale colours dancing in his eyes, the way the light hits his high cheekbones. “You’re trembling with rage, you know. It’s adorable.”

“You’re very easy to be angry at,” you half-breathe, half-hiss, and Naoya’s smirk is going to be burnt into your memory forever and ever.

“If you’re so angry,” he murmurs, “I can certainly think of a way I wouldn’t mind helping you work out your aggression.”

You shouldn’t do it. But your heart is beating a frantic rhythm against your ribcage and your breath is short, and part of you wants to wrestle him to the ground and dominate him so that he can have a taste of his own medicine. You grab a handful of his hair and drag him down into a bruising kiss.

Oh, and he kisses back. His mouth is soft against yours, but the kiss itself is rough – both of your tongues fighting for dominance, both of you trying to nip at one another’s bottom lip and seize the victory. You’re practically shoved backwards so that your ass catches the edge of the Vice Principal’s desk, even as you tug hard on Naoya’s hair to tell him that you’re not going to be overpowered by him so easily. You feel the feral curve of his grin as he pulls back just enough to whisper;

“Oh? You really think you’re going to get the better of me? You’re cute--” and then you push his shoulders hard, and he stumbles and falls back onto the chair he started this whole escapade sat in. You reach down to tug off your shirt, dropping it onto the floor beside you – Naoya looks for a moment like he’s going to stand back up and resume trying to wrest back the situation into his favour, but as he sees the slight bounce of your breasts in your bra he seems to decide it would be more interesting and beneficial for him to stay exactly where he is and watch you disrobe.

So you do, wriggling your shorts down past your hips – he lets out a low groan at that, as you stand before him in nothing but your underwear with your fists clenched on your hips.

You feel surprisingly powerful like this. It definitely makes a difference from all of the other ways you’ve felt when you’ve been alone with somebody’s father--

“Take off your shirt,” you tell him, and you’re almost surprised at the imperious tone in your own voice. “It’s your turn--”

He raises an eyebrow at you, but he does as you ask. Long fingers curling around the hem of his shirt, taking his sweet time pulling it off his body – and yes, it’s a nice one. Nice, too, are his thighs as he undoes his trousers that probably cost more than you make in a year and pushes them down, sitting before you in nothing but his equally as expensive-looking underwear – an impressive looking bulge outline pressed against the fabric. Even as he looks at you, he takes hold of himself through it and squeezes it, his grin crooked.

Your body does a throb of need.

“Oh,” you say, feigning surprise. “I didn’t realise you were so needy already--”

“Like you’re not dripping,” he says sharply, his eyes zeroing in on the space between your thighs. “Don’t flatter yourself. I can see the damp patch from here.”

“Who’s to say that’s for you?” You walk towards him. You can’t help but feel powerful and in control at how his eyes follow you with rapt attention, how his tongue darts out to swipe across his bottom lip as he drinks in your form in front of him.

“Please,” he says. “As if there’s anyone here more deserving.”

He reaches forward and his hands settle on your hips, dragging you closer to him – hot fingertips brushing your waist, the bare skin beneath your bra before he’s unclipping that too and your breasts are bare. He breathes in deeply.

“Pity,” he says, though his voice is thick with his own arousal. “You’re such a cute little thing, if only you didn’t open your mouth--”

“I’m sure you wouldn’t mind me opening my mouth to do something else,” you breathe, and you reach down to ghost your fingers over his cock through the tent in his underwear. He hisses through his teeth, his eyes half-lidded.

“Don’t just say it, princess,” he says. “If you’re going to run your mouth, the least you could do is make it do something useful--”

“I’d rather die than get on my knees for you.” Your mouth is very close to his neck – to punctuate the statement, you give his earlobe a tug with your teeth, and he practically groans. You’re almost straddling him on the chair, and you do not miss, either, the twitch that his cock seems to give at the tug.

It seems like for somebody who really wants to be in control, and wants women to know their place so badly, Naoya actually is rather enjoying somebody giving him a taste of his own medicine.

He grabs your underwear and pulls it down, clicking his tongue as it bunches about your knees.

“Just give into what your body wants,” he says, all saccharine sweetness in that slow, deep voice. “You’ve made a mess.”

You know you have. You can feel slick when your thighs press too close together, hot and wet between your legs. You really are practically dripping. But it’s not just from Naoya, you don’t think – it’s from the sudden power you’re feeling, the rush of being an equal participant in everything, in feeling like you have the upper hand. And not a small part, you think, is because of the adrenaline that’s coursing through your veins at the thought of putting Naoya Zenin in his place. You tip your head to the side innocently.

“What about you?” You ask, with a mean shade to the pitch of your voice. “You’re so hard it’s a wonder you’re not in pain--”

He grabs a hank of your hair with one hand whilst spreading your legs further with the other, so strong that the breath’s knocked out of you. The tip of his finger skims the outer lips of your sex, gathering your slick arousal on the pad as he growls;

“I’m still a man, darling. I see a pretty cunt to fuck and a pair of nice tits and I want to bury myself into it until the bitch remembers her place--”

“Good luck,” you breathe. “I think you’ll be the one remembering his place, here.”

He laughs breathlessly.

“Oh,” he purrs. “You’re going to be singing a different song when you’re begging me to fuck you harder.”

You give him a smile with your teeth bared; the challenge is obvious. It’s a smile that says ‘we’ll see’, even as you both tug at his underwear to pull it down and reveal what he’s been hiding beneath it.

You don’t want to admit that he’s got a pretty cock, but he has. He’s not the biggest you’ve seen, but it’s still impressive; a slight curve giving it an elegant angle that you realise with a clench will hit you exactly in the right spot when you take it inside of you.

He’s slick with his own pre-come, bubbling from the reddened slit – and as you shift forward and trap it between your thighs, he groans aloud again.

“That’s right,” he grunts, as the tip catches on your entrance and you begin to sink down upon it. “This is what you were made for, princess--”

“What?” You pant. “That would be disappointing. You barely fill me up--”

He grabs you and pulls you into another kiss as you finish off sheathing his cock inside of you – perhaps to save his pride, perhaps to muffle the noise that comes out of him, transferred into your mouth instead of his own. Whichever it is, you hate that you were right about the angle of his cock – you can feel it pressing snugly against the spongy G-spot even now, threatening you with a better time than you’d like to have.

You break the kiss to pull yourself off of him and sink back down, forcibly taking the lead and setting your own pace. You know it’s fast, you know it’s greedy – but fuck, if you aren’t boiling over with need.

You splay your hands across his shoulders, nails digging into his skin with little care to how you might mark him. You need him for leverage, as you continue to bounce up and down on his cock. Naoya tips his head back and groans, enjoying the feeling, before he remembers that you two are engaged in a battle of wits and attempts to get the better of you once more.

“I-is that,” he groans, coming to cling onto your waist and force you down on him with even more strength, helping you along in the too-fast rhythm of your thrusts and bounces. “The best you’ve got?”

“Come on,” you say breathlessly, as his cock continues to stroke that spot. You can hear the sounds of him sliding in and out of you, shamefully loud – too, you can hear the sounds of your skin slapping against one another, echoing and mixing with the breathless pants and the attempts to trade barbed insults. “Y-you’re making me do all the work?”

“Fucking pity you’ve got such a nice cunt,” Naoya snarls, his hips flexing, somehow managing to hit you deeper even as you’re bouncing on the balls of your feet and straddling him on the chair. His words are starting to sound very far away. “You should be in my fucking bed, keeping it warm, better off than wasting away here--”

Both of you are running your mouths, overwhelmed by how close one another’s bodies are and the intense heat radiating from you. There’s a frisson of electricity in the air, showering sparks, as the two of you continue to snatch words in between moans and groans and pants and whimpers--

“You’re pathetic--”

“You’re so fucking tight, I shouldn’t be surprised when you’re such a bitch--”

“F-fuck, harder, c-can’t you even keep the momentum going? You’re weak--”

“Baby girl, you’re fucking shaking – you gonna come first? Women are so predictable--”

You can feel your release hovering on the edge of your vision, blurring it as your eyes squeeze shut and you feel tears threatening to roll down your cheeks. There’s a heat inside of you that’s close to overspilling – and as you come down on him particularly hard, the head of his cock rolls over your g-spot just right, and you feel a dam inside of you break as your nails dig hard enough into his shoulders to draw blood. You bury your face into his neck so he doesn’t get the satisfaction of hearing you cry out his name, teeth worrying into his neck to leave a love-bite reminder of exactly what transpired between you two in the Vice Principal’s office.

You feel yourself twitch and tighten around him as your orgasm rocks your body, heat running through you like veins of marble. You can’t breathe – all you can do is bite, your hips chasing the final aftershocks.

Naoya is still hard inside of you as you lift yourself off him, letting his cock slip out of you as easily as butter. His own hands clench around your hips.

“Where the fuck do you think you’re going?” He asks, his voice rough and hungry. Despite that, though, you can hear the thread of some other emotion sewn in to them – and with a shiver of delight, you realise it’s neediness. He’s been left wanting, and you’ve been handed all of the cards. “I haven’t finished.”

“And you won’t finish inside me,” you snap at him, enjoying the longing in his voice. “Ask me very nicely and I’ll finish you off with my hand.”

“Mouth,” he demands – and he grabs your cheeks, squishing them, pulling you down and reminding you of all of the power that he has even though it’s your body that’s got the advantage of the high ground. “You don’t really think I’m going to be satisfied with your hand, princess--”

“You don’t deserve it,” you spit at him, but you sink to your knees anyway.

You’re not entirely lacking in manners. You suppose you did get to come. It would be rude to just leave him like this. Especially when the whole reason you’d ended up in this office in the first place was to apologise to him politely.

“This is the perfect position for you,” he sneers, as you open your mouth and envelope the head of his cock within it. You can taste yourself on his shaft. “Fuck, that’s right – put your mouth to good use for once--”

You give him a mean, slow lick along the slit of his cock head that makes him groan in the back of his throat. He wraps his hand around the back of your neck, fingers digging into the nape so he can control you at least a little bit, pushing you a touch too far so you almost choke. You pull off it, drooling.

“Choke me again and I’ll bite,” you snarl, and he pats your cheek like you’re an obedient dog.

“You wouldn’t dare,” he says – and you narrow your eyes at him in a way that says ‘try me’ before you return to sucking at him, hollowing your cheeks. You want to do a good job. A part of you wants to make him come so hard that he regrets being an asshole to you, even though you know that’s ridiculous and not going to happen.

Still. You’re not going to back down from a challenge, so you use your tongue to play along as much of his cock as you can.

“Fuck,” Naoya breathes. “Good . . . good fuckin’ girl—”

You’ve been hearing that low, polite drawl swear and curse for what seems like hours, but that one sends another pulse of heat through you – at your heart, you can’t argue that you love being praised. You whimper against his cock, glad that the fast pace you’ve managed to establish and the wet noises of your mouth around him muffle the noise so Naoya can’t dangle it over your head.

The hand on the nape of your neck jerks, so that you’re forced to look up at him and meet his eyes proper. His hips are slamming to meet your bobs now, the noise of him fucking your mouth filling the room. His teeth dig into his bottom lip and you feel him twitch, his voice pitching--

Salt coats your tongue as he fills your mouth.

But he doesn’t let himself finish there.

He pulls out, and he pumps his cock himself two, three times – coaxing out the other ropes of come, that hit your neck and chest and breasts hot and white and glistening. You’re too surprised by it to do anything – you’d expected him to keep your mouth on him, make you swallow down everything he gave you. He seems the kind of guy who gets off on that sort of thing--

But instead, he’s sighing, relaxing back into the chair as he looks at you with lazy eyes.

“You look cute like that,” he says, his voice low and sated. “I should take a picture.”

“Fuck you,” you breathe, getting off your knees. You are so fucking thankful for the box of tissues on the Vice Principal’s desk, as you reach across and grab some to dab at yourself so you’re not sticky and disgusting for any longer than necessary.

If you leave them in his pedal waste-bin, you hope that the cleaning crew will dispose of them before the Vice Principal is even aware that they’re there. Your lip curls as you wipe your mouth. You wish you had a mint – or at least a glass of water. Even tap water would do.

For what it’s worth, Naoya seems a little agitated as he puts himself to rights too. Evidently he was not expecting you to fight back so much – he places a finger on his shoulders and scowls when he sees that you made him bleed.

“I should sue you for assault,” he says. You tap your own body, at the curve of your hips and waist.

“I’m going to bruise,” you tell him. “So I guess it would be self-defence.”

“You’re too smart for your own good,” he tells you, with narrowed eyes – and you give him another smile, one that is clearly fake, as you pull your tank top and shorts back on and re-tie your shoes.

You’re surprised as you go to leave the room and he sets a hand on the small of your back in a mocking echo of polite manners. As the two of you walk down the corridor towards the exit, he does not remove it. To the assembled crowds, you hope it will look entirely innocent – like the two of you have merely had a little chat and come to an agreement instead of heatedly fucking one another’s brains out.

You blink as you emerge out into the light, your eyes taking a moment to adjust. You see Principal Masamichi give you a sympathetic smile – and there’s Gojo, immediately charging towards you like an overprotective bear. He slows down as he sees the way that Naoya is still touching you.

“I hope everything’s alright,” he says, sounding stiffer and more formal than you usually hear. Naoya’s smile towards him is cold.

“Everything’s fine,” he says, “Perfect. You apologised beautifully, didn’t you, Miss?” Naoya looks down his nose at you, a conceited smile on his mouth. “I’ve decided to overlook this little transgression.” He leaves a pause, and you swallow as you realise what he’s waiting for.

“Thank you so much, Mr Zenin, Sir,” you say. Again, it feels like you have to force the words out through a mouthful of marbles – but they make it out of your mouth.

“Oh, don’t be so formal, Miss,” he smirks. “You can call me Naoya. I look forward to seeing you again – soon, I hope.”

“You’re just in time,” Gojo says coldly. “Maki just won the final race of the day for our team.”

Naoya’s gaze is sharp as he looks at him. His lip curls. You can tell that both of them want to do something – maybe have an out-and-out fist fight on the field. But Naoya manages to get a grip (you’re glad about it; you’re not entirely sure whether Gojo would have been able to hold back) and turns on his heel to stalk away.

He does give your ass one last squeeze, though, that you desperately hope that Gojo doesn’t notice.

Gojo’s shoulders stay set, his chin thrust proudly forward, until Naoya has been swallowed up by the crowd at large – and then, he turns to you. For the first time, you see his normally humorous eyebrows draw in with worry.

“You look upset,” he says. “Sweaty. You smell terrible. Do you need a minute?”

Your shoulders fall. Gojo gives you a sympathetic pat on the back.

“It’s a rite of passage to deal with someone from the Zenin family,” he says. “You’re just unlucky it happened to actually be Naoya today. He usually sends an underling or an uncle or someone to pretend to care about the girls.”

Wow. You sure hope the rite of passage has gone differently for everyone else.

“Why d’you think he came here today, then?” You ask Gojo. He looks at you strangely, a spark of something you can’t quite read in his eyes.

“Well,” he says, “he’s related to the Fushiguros, you know. I heard he and Megumi’s father have met up recently for drinks – it ended in a fight, of course, it always does. But maybe he expected Megumi’s dad to be here too?” He shrugs. “He can never resist an opportunity to relish over someone in his family winning, even if he doesn’t want Maki doing anything unladylike. Megumi’s dad isn’t here, though, so looks like that backfired on him--”

Your face feels like it’s on fire as you think about Megumi’s father fucking you on Gojo’s desk – and the lingering way that Naoya had said that he’d heard so much about you from everyone.

#naoya zenin x reader #naoya x reader #naoya x you #naoya smut #naoya zenin smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x you #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #not sfw #afab reader #fem pronouns #jjk teacher aid au #jjk writing #writing

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agent-kihyun · 4 years

Text

neighbors [ldh]

pairing: Neighbor!Hyuck x reader (feat. 00 line)

wc: 6.1K

rating: R/18+

warnings: explicit smut; oral (female receiving), unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it!), flirting, making out, sex jokes

summary: When Lee Haechan moves in across the hall from you, you must figure out how to resist his charm in order to prove a point to your roommates. But what’s the harm in giving into temptation?

↣

The minute that your neighbor across the hall, an older woman who lived alone, passed away, you were mildly relieved. Yes, you know that sounds...bad. But, in your defense, she was rather mean to you and often complained to the landlord about you and your roommates despite the three of you not disturbing her.

You had hoped the landlord wasn’t planning on filling the empty apartment with new people again, but much to your dismay, within days the new apartment is rented out to a new tenant already. But what could you do? It was happening whether you liked it or not.

“Hey, have you heard?” your roommate, Bomi, bursts into the apartment practically screaming.

You casually flip a page in the magazine that you’re skimming, “Heard what?”

“Oh, don’t play dumb,” Bomi shuts the door and walks over to you, snatching your magazine out of your hands.

“Hey! Give that back! I literally have no idea what you’re talking about!” You half-heartedly reach up for your magazine.

“We’re getting new neighbors, you dweeb!” Bomi laughs in excitement.

“You’re a dweeb,” you pout and re-open your magazine, continuing to skim the pages.

“Are you not excited about getting new neighbors?” Your roommate scoffs.

“I couldn’t care less, to be honest,” you shrug.

“You’re unbelievable. I’m pretty sure they’re our age,” she smacks your knee to get your attention.

“Okay. Cool.”

“Hey! Show some enthusiasm!” Bomi whines.

“What are you trying to get her to show enthusiasm for?” Another one of your roommates, Gaeun, walks into the living room from her room.

“We’re getting new neighbors! I just saw them moving in across the hall into Mrs. Kim’s old place! They’re really cute,” Bomi explains to Gaeun.

“Really? Oh my gosh, let me see,” Gaeun rushes to the door and takes a quick peek as your new neighbors move their boxes into their apartment.

“You guys are so lame. We never interact with any of our neighbors anyway, what's the big deal?” You roll your eyes and finally put your magazine down.

“Because...they’re hot,” Gaeun says after she closes the door.

“Bomi just said they’re cute, so which is it?”

“Don’t be such a smartass,” Bomi says to you and you cross your arms in indignation.

“Let’s go welcome them! Introduce ourselves so they, y’know, like are familiar with someone around here,” Gaeun suggests with a wink.

“If they’re still moving their stuff in, it’s probably not a good time. Just wait till they’re--” You begin.

“Shh, I wasn’t asking you,” Gaeun sends you a quick glare and you shoot daggers back at her.

“Yeah, let’s go say hi!” Bomi grins and the two take off faster than the speed of light.

You stand in the foyer of your apartment, alone and now in a sour mood. You decide that there’s only one thing that can cheer you up at the moment: ice cream. You quickly grab your phone, keys and wallet, slip on your shoes and swiftly leave the apartment.

Your two roommates, standing in the doorway of your new neighbors’ apartment, call you over to say hi, as if they totally didn’t just ditch you, but you ignore them and take the staircase instead of the elevator.

You take a good hour at the ice cream parlor, eating ice cream by yourself and trying to distract yourself from the events from earlier. Why did you have to care about new neighbors? Why did Bomi and Gaeun make you feel like less than for not caring? Who cares if they’re hot? Maybe they were right for giving you weird looks, you think.

The ice cream does nothing for you. Instead, you try to cheer yourself up by getting your comfort foods from the grocery store. A pint of your favorite ice cream and snacks always made you feel much better.

With your food in hand, you walk home with a small smile on your face, having completely forgotten about your roommates. When you arrive back to the apartment, you see that the moving truck that was previously there when you left, is now gone. With that knowledge, you take the elevator up to your floor. You take the time in the elevator to begin snacking, but stop yourself so you can enjoy the rest in the comfort of your own home.

However, as you glance at your new neighbor’s door, you know you’d have to wait a little longer to eat your food. You felt bad for simply storming off earlier and not even waving to the new people on your floor. With a heavy sigh you find yourself walking to their door to formally introduce yourself.

3 knocks to the door and it’s swinging open. A young man stands before you, giving you a mildly perplexed look. Right off the bat you know you’re doomed. Your roommates were right about your new neighbors (or at least one of them) being handsome. If he looks this good, what do others look like?

“Hello? Can I help you?” his voice snaps you out of it.

“Oh...yeah, um, I just wanted to introduce myself. I’m your neighbor,” you stick out your hand for him to shake and tell him your name. The young man looks down at your hand and back up at your face before taking your hand in his and shaking it twice. His hand lingers in yours before you pull yours away.

“You can call me Haechan,” he gives you a flashy grin. You return his smile, thinking that maybe you were wrong to judge your neighbor before even meeting him.

“I live across from you,” You point to the door on the other side of the elevator landing space, “I’m pretty sure you met my two other roommates earlier.”

“Oh yeah, you ignored them and left them hanging. Kind of a dick move, in my honest opinion,” he leans against his doorframe, crossing his arms and a smug expression on his face. Your jaw drops at his statement.

So you weren’t entirely wrong. What a little shit.

“Not that it’s any of your business, but in my defense, they were dicks to me right before that and I wasn’t in the mood to pretend like I was happy,” you cross your arms as well. Haechan laughs and shakes his head.

“I guess that’s fair. My roommates can be dicks too sometimes so I understand,” he shrugs. “Do you want to meet them as well?”

“Um…” you trail off, unsure if you wanted to introduce yourself to the others at the moment.

“Come on, they won’t bite,” Haechan winks at you. Something about the delivery of his comment makes your cheeks heat up, but you decide to just go for it.

“Okay,” you say, and before you know it, Haechan is tugging you into his apartment, shutting the door behind you.

Once inside, you look around and find boxes everywhere. Some of them were open, some of them were still sealed; of course since they were unpacking. There was a blue sofa in the middle of the room, two other males sitting on it and unpacking boxes. One was in the kitchen, also unpacking, you assumed.

“Hey, we have a guest!” Haechan announces, and suddenly there were 4 pairs of eyes on you. One of the guys on the couch stands up and walks over to you. He takes your hand in his and presses a chaste kiss to your knuckles.

“Nice to meet you, I’m Jaemin,” he smiles at you and it takes everything in you not to laugh, so instead you send him a tight-lipped smile. You quickly deduce he was the flirty type, and that you’d probably endure a lot more of his flirting if you were to hang out with these guys often.

“Hey, knock it off you weirdo, you’re gonna scare her,” the one from the kitchen walks over and offers his hand for you to shake. You quickly shake it, afraid he might do the same thing as Jaemin.

“I’m Renjun, and don’t worry, I won’t kiss your hand. Some of us are normal, I promise,” he shoots a glare at Jaemin, who rolls his eyes in response. You softly laugh at Renjun and then your eyes move over to the last one, who is still sitting on the couch.

“Oh, I’m Jeno. It’s nice to meet you! Sorry I can’t get up right now, I sprained my ankle earlier today while moving our stuff in,” He gave you a sheepish smile.

“Aw I’m sorry about your ankle, I hope it gets better!” you offer your condolences. Jeno smiles and nods in gratitude.

“And your name?” Jaemin asks. You casually provide your name for the 3 other boys to hear and they nod.

“Truly a pleasure to meet you,” Jaemin beams at you.

“Would you like to stay for awhile?” Haechan suddenly asks from beside you.

“Oh...I appreciate the offer, but you guys look like you’re busy unpacking. Plus I was hoping to spend some quality time with...my...ice cream,” You hold up the food in it’s plastic bag.

“Ah don’t worry about us unpacking, I mean you can help too,” Haechan says, and Renjun smacks his arm then shoots him a disapproving look. You nervously chuckle and shift on your feet.

“Don’t worry about it. You’re free to go. It was delightful to meet you and your roommates, it’s nice to know we have some friends our age here,” Renjun tells you and you nod.

“It was delightful meeting you all too. I don’t know what my roommates told you, but if you have any questions about the building or something, you can always ask us,” you tell them while opening their front door.

“Thanks! Much appreciated!” Jeno waves goodbye to you. You wave to the four boys as you exit the apartment.

Just as you begin to close the door, Haechan slips out right after you.

“Hey, wait,” he calls out and you turn around to face the boy.

“Don’t be a stranger, okay?” he says, a glimmer of hope in his eyes. You give him a small smile in return.

“Give me a good reason not to be,” you tell him before you turn back to your apartment.

Haechan stares at you as you unlock your door and disappear into your own apartment, unsure of what to make of your remark. As he walks back to his own place, a smirk on his lips, he thinks of all the ways to make sure you stick around.

“Be careful what you ask for…”

↣

After Haechan’s first encounter with you, he finds any way possible to see you more. He makes it his mission to give you plenty of good reasons for you not to be a stranger (technically, per your request).

The first incident is more...accidental. If anything, he would have to blame the mail delivery person for this.

As Haechan arrives at the apartment building from his last class of the day, he decides to check his mailbox for his unit. He quickly gathers the envelopes and advertisement cards that were stuffed into his mailbox and locks it, then walks toward the elevator while sifting through it to see if there’s anything for him.

The only problem is that he doesn’t see his name...or any of his roommates’ names. He sees yours and your roommates’ names. He sighs in slight frustration at how incompetent the mail delivery person had to be to mix up his mail with yours but then a lightbulb goes off in his head. You need your mail...so he’s going to have to give it to you...which means…

When the elevator reaches your floor, Haechan makes an immediate beeline for your door. He knocks a few times before you swing the door open, confusion written in your features as you take in Haechan leaned up against your door frame.

“Donghyuck.”

Haechan’s--or Donghyuck’s--smug expression fades instantly at the use of his legal name.

“H-how did you--?”

“It was on your mail, which somehow ended up in my mailbox,” you cross your arms as you give him a suspicious glare.

“I didn’t do anything, I got your mail too,” he holds up your mail to your face and you raise your eyebrows in surprise.

“Oh,” you quickly take your mail from Haechan, “well thanks for getting my mail...Hyuck.” A smug smile paints your lips as you use his legal name again.

Haechan makes a disgruntled expression and sighs, “Why are you calling me that?”

“Because it’s cute and it’s, oh I don’t know...your actual name? Don’t worry, though, I’ll keep calling you Haechan,” You reassure him. Haechan gives you a suspicious glare and crosses his arms. He most definitely wasn’t expecting for you to be good at playing his game, which he thought that you didn’t know you were a part of.

“Can I just have my mail now?” He huffs, deciding to take a loss for this round.

“So impatient, geez,” you pick the stack of Haechan’s mail off your foyer table and hand it to him. Haechan takes his mail from you and is about to bid you adieu before he suddenly changes his mind on losing this round.

“Personally,” he begins, catching your attention from your mail, “I think you should use that Savage Fenty promo code. I’d love to see what you get.”

Your heart nearly stops in your chest as you look up in horror at Haechan’s shit-eating grin, knowing full well that he knocked you off your axis. You don’t even have a comeback, you just watch in silence as Haechan sends you a wink and leaves you standing in your doorway. He shouts a quick thank you before he enters his own apartment, shutting the door behind him.

“I can’t believe--” You hiss as you slam your door shut, your face incredibly hot from Haechan’s simple, yet flirty, remark. You knew he had to have skimmed through your mail, or he wouldn’t have shown up at your door to give it back. What you didn’t anticipate was that he’d use your mail against you.

“Were you just flirting with our neighbor?” You hear your roommate, Gaeun, behind you. You whip around to face her and scowl.

“No. He was flirting with me,” you inform her.

“You think he’s cute don’t you?”

“I do not!”

“Oh please, you’d be stupid to not think he’s cute. I cannot believe just a week ago you were so disinterested in our new neighbors and now you’re literally buddy-buddy with them, Haechan in particular,” she wiggles her eyebrows at you and you roll your eyes.

“Whatever, you’re annoying,” you scoff.

“You totally like him, huh?”

“Shut up no I don’t!”

“Alright, alright, fine. I have a hard time believing it, but okay,” Gaeun shrugs.

A comfortable silence fills the space between you and Gaeun before she pipes up again.

“I’m just saying if you end up sleeping with him, I won’t be surprised.”

“GAEUN!”

↣

A couple of days later, Haechan reminds you of his presence again.

You were doing homework in your living room when a frantic knocking on your front door unceremoniously interrupts you. You save your work and close your laptop before padding over to the door to see who is so rudely interrupting you from your studies.

Lo and behold, as you gaze through your peephole, you find Haechan standing on the other side. You sigh and reluctantly open the door, giving the boy an unamused glare.

“Thank God you’re home, I need your help,” Haechan exhales in relief. You raise your eyebrows at his distressed tone, unsure if something was wrong.

“Why, did something happen? Are you okay?” You ask him.

“Aw...you’re worried about me, how cute,” Haechan smiles at you, touched by your concern. You groan in annoyance and frown at him.

“No, I’m fine. Our kitchen, however is not; our sink is not draining properly and shit is coming up from the drain. I was wondering if you could give me the landlord’s email or number so we can call him to come fix it,” Haechan reveals. You furrow your brows and shake your head at him, thus confusing him.

“First of all, don’t call the landlord, he doesn’t know anything. Second of all, your sink is clogged, I’ll come fix it for you,” you tell him.

“What do you mean the landlord doesn’t know anything?” Haechan asks, put off by your comment.

“When I first moved in, our toilet had problems. So of course, I called the landlord to come fix it and he literally said he didn’t know what to do. Naturally, from that point, I learned how to fix everything since the landlord is useless,” you recount your story to Haechan. It’s at this point that Haechan starts second guessing his and his roommates’ decision to move into this apartment building.

“Are you sure--”

Don’t worry, I know what I’m doing, just give me a second to get my tools.” You close the door and return promptly, holding a simple toolbox with enthusiasm. Haechan gives you a strange look, but decides to see this through. If it’s a chance to spend time with you, he’s taking it.

“Alright, let’s go fix your kitchen sink!” you grin and close your door behind you as you determinedly march across the hall to Haechan’s place.

When you arrive, you quickly figure out what’s wrong and get to work. You open the cabinet doors that lead to the pipes under the counter and begin going through your toolbox to get the appropriate tools to fix the sink.

“Do you want to see how to fix this so next time you can do it yourself?” you suggest. Haechan blinks down at you as he thinks about his answer. On the one hand, he wants to stand and supervise you from a distance (an excuse to basically ogle your bare legs because of the denim shorts you were wearing), but on the other hand, he can be closer to you if he joins you under the sink.

“Hyuck?” Your use of his nickname snaps him out of his thoughts.

“Yeah I’ll watch you work on my pipes,” Haechan says without thinking. You deadpan at him, his unintended euphemism not going over your head.

“Really?” you raise a brow at him.

“What?”

“‘Work on your pipes?’ Do you think I’m stupid?” you scoff. It takes Haechan a second to realize what you mean before his jaw is dropping. The initial shock fades into cheekiness as he leans against the counter with a smirk.

“That’s not what I meant, but I wouldn’t mind if you wanted to work on that pipe,” he winks at you and you roll your eyes.

“I’m taking back my offer to teach you how to fix your sink,” you say before ducking your upper body under the sink. Haechan pushes himself from the counter and ducks under the sink with you, despite you rescinding your offer.

“No takesies backsies,” he settles in next to you. It’s slightly cramped, but you try to focus on anything other than his close proximity to you.

“Fine, just don’t say dumb shit like that again,” you say quietly while you begin the process of fixing Haechan’s sink.

“No promises,” Haechan grins and you laugh softly at his antics.

You show Haechan what’s wrong with his sink and how to repair it. He pays close attention to your instructions, finding them to be fairly simple. For the last half of the process, you come out from under the sink and show him the last few steps of unclogging the sink. When you believe you’ve restored the sink to its former glory, you test the garbage disposal and run the water, making sure everything is drained. Much to Haechan’s surprise, you effectively fixed his sink.

“Damn...thank you. It works perfectly now,” He says in relief.

“Anytime. I also just want to point out that the previous tenant had a LOT of cats, so that’s probably why all that hair was in your pipes. I don’t know why she would put it down the sink though, that’s gross,” you scrunch your nose in disgust and Haechan chuckles.

“Yeah well we don’t have any cats, so it won’t happen again,” He tells you with a small smile. You return the smile and quickly lean down to recover your tools so you can make a swift exit back to your apartment. Haechan can’t quite explain why he felt so attracted to you while you unclogged his sink and explained how to do so. All he knew was that it was quite an experience for him to watch you become a plumber in his presence.

“So were you paying attention to the plumbing lesson? Because I’m not about to purposely clog another sink to teach you again,” you ask as he walks you back to your apartment.

“I was too busy getting distracted by your beauty and missed like a good chunk of the lesson, to be honest,” he joked. You stare up at him, shocked by his audacity, but all he does is give you a cocky smile in return.

“You--you’re--fuck you,” you say as you quickly enter your apartment and shut the door in Haechan’s face, not wanting him to see you in your flustered state. He blinks at your door, bewildered at your reaction, but soon realizes it wasn’t negative in the slightest.

Haechan walks back to his apartment with pride and a puffed out chest.

↣

You’re thoroughly convinced that the universe wants to prove your roommates right and you wrong. This becomes apparent to you once again at the end of a shower, you turning your shower head off and reaching for your towel.

At first, you don’t hear it, but after turning off your speaker and wrapping your towel around your body, you step outside the bathroom and hear the blaring noise: the fire alarm.

“Fuck...nooooooo,” you whisper as you hang your head in defeat. You debate quickly going to your room and throwing on clothes, but you remember the fire drill rules of the building and reluctantly grab your keys, phone and slippers. You dash down a few flights of stairs to the lobby and exit promptly, heading over to the building meetup point where the other residents are, all while holding your towel close to your body.

When you arrive, you try to hide yourself from passersby by blending in with the other building residents. You’re in the clear, heaving out a sigh of relief...that is until you hear the devil’s voice from your right side.

“Well don’t you look pretty standing there in nothing but a bath towel. Mind if I sneak a peek?” Haechan croons as he saunters over to you with a cheeky smirk. You turn your head towards Haechan, greeting him with a displeased expression, only for him to send you a wink.

“Hi, Donghyuck,” you huff, and cross your arms, effectively keeping your towel wrapped around your body.

Haechan places his hand on his heart in fake hurt, “When you say my name like that, it hurts.”

“Oh really? How would you like me to say it then?” you roll your eyes. Haechan moves to stand behind you and leans down so his lips brush the shell of your ear and in the most nonchalant tone, he whispers:

“Loudly and with pleasure, baby.”

You can’t control the shivers that are sent down your spine at the pet name and Haechan looks down at you with pride at his work. You scowl at the fact that your body reacted to his teasing, but even more so that you don’t hate it as much as you’re letting on. You refuse to turn around because you know that you wouldn’t be able to hold yourself back from either smiling at him or smacking him.

“Cat got your tongue, honey? Maybe you can put it to good use. Hm?” he pushes further and you can’t control yourself from whipping around and whacking his arm. The smile you’re so clearly fighting, though, tells him you’re not really mad at him.

“Shut up, you fucking dweeb, me being in a towel is not an invitation for you to hit on me nor is it a ploy to get you into bed,” you hiss at him and all he does is bite his lower lip softly and stick his hands in his front pockets.

“You’re the one who said not to give you a reason to remain strangers, and I always go the extra mile for people I consider…‘friends’,” he uses your past words against you. You gape in surprise at how cunning Haechan is and you wish you could slap the smug smile right off his face. You’re more mad at yourself for how his flirting is actually working and eliciting a reaction from you, especially a reaction from under your towel and between your legs. You can’t prove your roommates right, especially because you know they’d give you shit if they found out you actually did like Haechan.

“You’re insufferable,” you whisper just as the landlord announces that you’re allowed to come back into the building. You quickly stalk off toward the building, leaving Haechan alone to watch your retreating figure in admiration.

It’s only a matter of time before your resolve breaks...and he’s going to be there when it happens.

↣

You don’t see Haechan for another couple of days, which makes you a little more sad than you’d like to admit. You even go so far as to ask Renjun where Haechan was, mildly worried that Haechan was sick...or even lost interest in you. You swear Renjun to secrecy though, knowing that if Haechan finds out you asked about him, you’d never hear the end of it.

When you finally do see him, it’s on the elevator, on your way home from school. It’s silent as the elevator doors close the two of you into the space. After a few beats, haechan finally speaks.

“I hear you asked about me,” he says, fighting off a smirk. You sigh and make a mental note to kill Renjun the next time you see him.

“Yeah I hadn’t been annoyed in a few days so I just wanted to see why it was so quiet,” you roll your eyes and look over at Haechan to find that he’s already looking at you.

“Sure, whatever helps you sleep at night,” he shrugs nonchalantly and goes back to waiting for the elevator to arrive at your floor.

“So…?”

“So what?”

“Where were you?”

Haechan gives you a surprised look, but answers anyway, “I was studying for a midterm, snoopy. I have to keep my grades up you know.”

“Oh...well...I hope you pass,” you tell him, and a warm smile appears on his lips.

“I did. With flying colors. Thanks though,” he says back and before you can respond, the elevator dings and the doors open. Haechan files out first and you follow suit, reluctant to go back to your own apartment for some reason. No one is there, you know that for a fact. Before you take out your keys, you glance back at Haechan, who is standing motionless at his door, his back facing you.

“Haechan,” you call out, your lips moving before your brain can formulate thoughts. He turns back to you, wide-eyed and curious about why you said his name.

“Yeah?” He asks as he starts to inch closer to your end of the corridor.

“I…” you begin, but the rest of the words don’t come out. As Haechan gets closer, he can see your face more clearly, and the look in your eyes tells him everything he needs to know. Being ever so impatient, he doesn’t wait for you to finish your sentence and backs you up against your door, his lips (finally) feverishly connecting with yours.

Your eyes shut immediately as Haechan takes control and kisses you with hunger and desire. He places one hand on your waist and one hand caresses your cheek, not intending to let you go anywhere. He swipes his tongue on your lower lip and you allow him access almost immediately. You don’t know why you’re mildly surprised that Haechan is a phenomenal kisser, but that thought and any other lingering ones fade as his hands travel to your hips and grip them rather harshly. You gasp softly against his lips as he increases the pressure on your hips, and he takes the opportunity to begin kissing your neck, creating marks where his lips touch.

While Haechan concentrates on your neck, you quickly try to search your bag with only your sense of touch to find your keys to let the two of you in.

Haechan grabs them from you, breaking away from you for a split second to unlock and open the door. Once that is accomplished, he places his lips back on yours and ushers you into your apartment. His kissing gets more insistent and rough as he shuts the door behind him.

Articles of clothing trail behind the two of you as you advance to your room. By the time you arrive, the two of you are fighting for dominance through your making out. It gets so intense that you have to break away for air. The two of you stand chest to chest, half-naked and panting.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” he asks breathlessly. His hands rest on your hips and give them a light squeeze just for kicks. Your breath hitches in your throat and Haechan notices and smirks.

“I’m just...” you begin but Hyuck squeezes your hips again and you let out a small whimper.

“What was that? I didn’t hear you,” he teases you.

“Shut up,” you pry his hands off your hips and push him back to your bed before straddling his thighs. “You’re not the only one who likes to be in charge, Hyuck.”

Haechan smirks from below you and hooks his fingers into the hem of your panties, pulling them down slowly.

“Oh sweetheart,” he pauses when he has taken your panties completely off, “don’t you know I can still have control from under you?”

“Huh?” you ask, but Haechan’s response is one of action. He slips his boxers down his legs, situates his cock in line with your entrance and pulls you down on him until he’s buried to the hilt. You both let out harmonious moans simultaneously, the stretch of his cock oh-so-satisfying and the wet warmth of your pussy giving him goosebumps. While you were mildly disgruntled you didn’t get to see his cock first, you felt like it was unnecessary at this point considering you could feel his size from inside your pussy.

“Fuck you‘re so wet, I knew you wanted to fuck me,” he hisses.

“How the hell...are you…?” You begin.

“This big? Why, don’t think you can handle it?” Haechan smugly asks.

“Just...fucking move, Hyuck,” you grunt, “or I will.”

“Baby’s so desperate for my cock she won’t wait for me to fuck her? What, you’re gonna fuck yourself on my cock?” Haechan teases you, but you take it as a challenge and promptly begin riding him.

“You...asked for it,” you smirk at him.

“Fuck...you feel so good,” Haechan praises you and you beam at him. You lean down and begin pressing open mouthed kisses along his neck, kisses which soon turn into hickeys. Haechan has to admit that it feels good to be treated like this. Like a king.

“Who’s in charge now, brat?” You whisper in his ear and Haechan’s gaze darkens. He brings his hands back to your hips and grips them so you stop in place.

“I am,” he responds before roughly thrusting up into you, “it’s my game, I always win.”

Haechan pistons his hips against yours and moan after moan spills from your lips. Every yelp of his name, mixed in with swears and incomprehensible sounds, pushes Haechan to go harder.

“Shit, Hyuck, I’m...I’m so close,” you mewl and grip his shoulders to steady yourself. Under normal circumstances, Haechan would edge you to no end, but he’s been waiting for this since the moment you told him that you didn’t want to be strangers. He was going to be self-indulgent just this once.

Haechan’s thrusting gets sloppier as you both get close to your highs. Finally you come undone around his cock, your walls hugging him so tight, it makes it harder for him to keep going. Haechan takes an immeasurable amount of self control to not cum inside of you (especially since he got ahead of himself and forgot to slip on a condom). After a couple more thrusts, he pulls you off of him and cums across his own stomach, chest heaving as he comes down from his high. You take a dollop of his cum on your finger and suck it off, making eye contact with him just to taunt him further.

“Get on my face,” he commands.

“What?”

“Get on, sit on, I don't care just get up here,” he grabs your thighs. At your lack of action, he pulls you up so your core is hovering above his lips.

“Hyuck, I don’t think I can take—Oh my fuck,” your plea is cut short by Haechan’s lips wrapping around your clit and sucking harshly on it.

Haechan is not done proving who is in charge—and that he’s perfectly capable of fucking you from beneath you—and decides to have a feast to treat himself.

His tongue expertly navigates your pussy, switching between tongue fucking your entrance and stimulating your clit. All you can hear are lewd slurping sounds and your cries of pleasure. Haechan hums into your clit and the vibrations send electricity throughout your body.

“Hyuck...Hyuck do that again please,” you beg him while lightly tugging his hair. Haechan surprisingly complies, but instead of simply humming, he lightly growls into your pussy, the sensation pushing you closer to the edge. It isn’t until Haechan gives your clit one harsh suck that you’re coming onto his face. He quickly slurps up your release before working on your pussy again.

He puts you through two more orgasms before he’s pushing you off of his face and onto your bed. He crosses his arms behind his head in satisfaction before he glances over at you. Your legs are still trembling and your eyes are closed in an attempt to regain your composure and breath.

“I’ll let you catch your breath before the next round,” he tells you and you open your eyes to give him a playful glare.

“Who said we were going multiple rounds?”

“Fine, I’ll go then.”

“No, wait!”

“Yeah that’s what I thought.”

↣

“Okay just be really quiet, I’m sure they’re home now and I cannot have them seeing you here.”

“I can’t believe you’re sneaking me out of your apartment, this is not high school, why can’t I just walk out of here?”

“Because then my roommates will be right and I don’t want them to clown me for giving into you.”

“You say that like sleeping with me was a bad thing,” Haechan raises an eyebrow as you escort him quietly to your front door.

“It wasn’t, but when you guys first moved in, I may have made a big deal of being uninterested in you and they like to prove me wrong. Just work with me here,” you explain.

“Oh how the tables turn. I’m sure you wouldn’t want them to know how eager you were for my—” Haechan begins but you place your hand on his face to shush him.

“I wouldn’t, so shut up,” you tell him as you make it to your front door.

“It’s gonna be a little harder for you to sneak me out when we do this again, y’know,” Haechan tells you while you open the door.

“Again? Why do you say that with so much certainty?” You ask him with a mischievous smile.

“Because I know it’s gonna happen again, please,” he scoffs and you softly laugh. Haechan smiles at the sound of your laugh and hopes that the next time he does come back, he gets to know you a little more before you sleep with each other again.

“Sure, keep telling yourself that,” you cross your arms with a shy smile, “now go home.”

“Until next time,” Haechan leans down and places a chaste kiss to your cheek before turning toward his door across the hall. You close the door as Haechan goes into his apartment and lean against the door, processing what just happened.

Haechan was right: you were going to need to be more sneaky the next time he was over.

#nct 127 smut #nct 127 x reader #nct smut #nct x reader #haechan smut #donghyuck smut #haechan x reader #donghyuck x reader #lee haechan smut #haechan au

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writing-blog-iguess · 3 years

Text

Stories

Summery: Everyone has a life a past before they become someone else. Some people flaunt it and others keep their past to themselves. The boys discover something about their mom, and now all they want is to hear about what she was like before she married Bruce Wayne.

Warning: mistakes probably. Like one swear word.

A/N: This is more of an introduction more then anything. I want each story of Batmom with different people as there own chapter and not cramped into one big fic. This is also my first Batman fic so feedback with welcome! And let me know who you'd want to see!

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The second she walked into the manor, she took off her shoes with a sigh of relief. With the intent of a shower and some sleep, she eagerly made her way up the stairs. But luck wasn’t on her side when she heard Alfred call her name.

Sighing, she turned around and looked down as the butler walked into the hallway. “Yes Alfred?”

“I’m afraid the boys are in need of your assistance tonight,” he said, giving her a worried look. There were days where she wished she wasn’t a doctor. And long nights like tonight was one of them. But she wouldn’t change it even if she wanted to.

“Which one was hurt tonight?” she asked, as she walked down the stairs.

“Jason,” he answered, taking her coat. She gave him a smile as thanks. “But the others might need looking at as well.”

Heaving a sigh, she walked around Alfred and made her way to the Batcave. As she walked down the stairs, she heard her kids bickering over something. She didn’t have enough energy to care at the moment, so she tuned them out.

“Alright, who’s first?” she asked as she came closer to the med-bay area.

“Jason,” Bruce answered without looking up from the bat-computer. But he did take her hand and kissed the back of it when she walked past him.

“Thanks for putting me first Bruce,” Jason snarked.

“You’re the one that got shot.”

“In the shoulder!” he exclaimed. She gave a pointed look at Jason; he’s shoulders sagged and went to sit down. Nodding, she got to work as the boys continued to talk about their night of patrol.

“So, who’s the unfortunate soul tonight?” she asked, as she set up her supplies she needed.

“Joker and Harley,” Tim answered, sitting down in one of the other cots. His brothers soon followed, sighing in relief of finally sitting down.

Her hands stilled on Jason’s arm at the answer. No one seemed to notice though, all too preoccupied with their conversation. Taking a deep breath, she began to work on cleaning Jason’s wound.

“I can’t believe she got a shot in,” Jason grumbled, hissing at the sting on his arm. “I didn’t see her coming until it was too late. I should have seen it, but I don’t know what happened.”

“You underestimated her is what happened,” Bruce pointed out.

“I did not! I don’t know how I could have!” he exclaimed, pulling a face as she began stitching up the bullet wound. “She’s Joker's girl, it should have been easy.”

“But you’ve fought her before, Todd. You know what she’s capable of,” Damian mused.

“But still…”

“She’s more than just Joker’s girl,” she broke in, “and if that’s all you think about her, then you don’t know her.”

“And you do, Ma?” Jason asked, not seeing the warning look Bruce was giving him. He took his mother’s silence as an answer and continued, “that’s what she is to everyone in Gotham.”

“Well, then Gotham doesn’t know shit,” she huffed out, ignoring everyone's surprised looks. “And Gotham and everyone else seem to forget that Harley and the ‘villains of Gotham,’” she said that in a mocking tone. Jason winced as she tugged on the thread a little too harshly, but she didn’t pay much attention to it. “That they were people before becoming who they are.”

“Mom?” Tim called, realizing how sore the subject was for her. But she paid him no mind as she continued to stitch up Jason’s wound, and continued talking.

“And that some of them were victims. Sure, there are some who went down the bad path, I’ll give you that. But if it wasn’t for Joker,” she spat the name like it was a poison for her. And in some ways, it was. “Gotham wouldn’t be what it is today.”

“You can’t blame Joker for that, Mom. Gotham’s been always like this,” Dick pointed out.

“No, but I can.”

“But blaming the Joker for bringing out the villains is like blaming Batman.” Tim’s statement made her freeze as she just realized what she was talking about. She narrowed her eyes and finished off tying the stitches and stood.

“Ask Alfred if you need stitches or whatever, I’m going to bed.” With that, she ignored everyone’s, especially Bruce’s, worried gaze and left the cave.

“I’ve never seen Ummi so upset before,” Damian voiced.

“What’s wrong with her?” Jason asked, turning back to Bruce who was rubbing his face. “Bruce?”

“She knew Quinn before she became Harley,” Bruce answered, standing and making his way to the dressing rooms.

“Has to be more than that,” Dick mused, “she became heated about it.”

“That’s because she almost married Harley.”

“What?” came from all four boys, but Bruce was already gone.

A little while later, Bruce found her in an old room that used to be hers. Walking into the room, he sighed as he looked at the mess around the room. It must have been bad judging by the mess.

“Was I not worth it?” she asked, bringing Bruce’s attention to her. He found her curled up on the bed, and he could imagine she started crying after she destroyed her room. “Did I do something wrong for someone to leave me like that?”

“No, honey,” Bruce answered as he walked over to her. He bent down, maneuvered his hands underneath her knees and neck, and lifted her up. “You did nothing wrong.”

“Then why does it feel like it?” she sniffed, nestling her head in his neck as he walked out of the room and towards theirs.

“I wish I could tell you,” Bruce whispered. They’ve had this conversation occasionally. And he never knew what to say to make her feel better. But the day after, she was herself again and everything was okay.

Bruce understood the heartbreak of leaving someone behind, he understood how she felt loving someone only for them to leave. And if Bruce was honest, he was a little jealous that she still loved Harley after everything.

But he always squashed it, knowing she loved him just as much, if not more.

“I miss her,” she whispered, into his neck.

“I know.”

When he walked into their room, he set her down on the bed and moved towards the bathroom, getting the bath ready. As the tub was filling with water, Bruce moved back to the bedroom and rummaged around until he found your favourite pajama's.

After her bath, she curled into Bruce, lightly tracing shapes on his chest. Bruce ran his fingers through her hair and she leaned into his touch.

“I’m sorry,” she mumbled, “I wasn’t blaming you for what happened with Harley.”

“I know. But if I recall correctly, there was a time you did,” he said, and she winced burying her face into his shirt.

“I was angry and I took it out on the wrong person. I’m sorry,” she said as her mind went back to that day they had the fight.

“I know, and I’ve forgiven you for it.” Silence fell between the two of them, but it didn’t last long when the door was thrown open. She lifted your head to see Dick, Jason, Tim and Damian standing there.

“You were going to marry Harley Quinn?” Dick all but shouted in disbelief. She hummed, dropping her head back down. The boys rushed into the room and jumped on the bed, crowded the two of them. “But you loved Bruce!”

“That is a story for a different day,” she mumbled out.

“How’d you meet?” Tim asked instead of pushing for the story. “Are there anyone else you knew before they became villains?”

“Med school and yes.”

“Who?” Damien asked.

She squinted her eyes as she thought. “…most of them maybe?”

They gawked at her, waiting for her to elaborate. When it became apparent that she wasn’t, the four of them bombarded her with questions, all talking over her.

“Okay that’s enough,” Bruce voiced out, and they became quiet. She patted his chest, and moved around so she was looking at her sons.

“I used to work for Penguin in his club back in school, I needed help with an assignment, so I found Nygma. Ivy was a patient of mine when I started residency. Dent was a friend and so was Selina. I also went to school with Crane. I was friends with Nora Fries, that’s how I knew Mr. Freeze.”

“What about the Joker?” Jason asked.

“No,” she stated, voice firm. Everyone shared a look, confirming that their mother was not the biggest fan of the Joker. She softened a little and offered her a smile before saying, “it’s been a long night. How about, when I feel up for it, I’ll tell you all about my friendships?”

They lit up, each giving her a kiss and rushed out the door. Talking to one another as they tried to figure out which story they wanted to hear first.

“Are you sure you’re up for that?” Bruce asked, as she snuggled into him again. She let out a yawn and nodded.

“Yeah, I’m sure,” she answered. “I just wonder who they’re going to ask for first.”

#bruce wayne x reader #batman x reader #fem!reader #batfam #batfamily #bruce wayne imagines #batfamily imagine #bruce wayne #batman #jason todd #red hood #dick grayson #nightwing #alfred #tim drake #red robin #damian wayne #robin #adventures of batmom

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randomshyperson · 3 years

Text

Sorry for your loss - “I will move on” #04

Read on AO3 || Serie Masterlist here

Summary: When your wife Natasha passes away in a car accident, a part of you dies with her. It takes a few months of mourning for your psychiatrist thinks the best alternative is for you to join a grief group. And there you meet Wanda Maximoff, and learn to live again.

Warnings: (+16) mentions of death, panic attacks and anxiety, grief, self sabotage, mentions of abusive family background, mutual attraction pining, explicit consent, therapeutic conversations about death, self-deprecation, healthy methods of coping with grief, possible triggers about anxiety, domestic Wanda, hurtful behaviors.

Tag list: @imapotatao / @aimezvousbrahms/ @ensorcellme/ @helloalycia / @mionemymind / @abimess / @stephanieromanoff / @yourtaletotell / @tomy5girls / @justagaypanicking / @thegayw1tch / @idek-5

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Chapter Four - I will move on

"And I guess that's about it." You say as you finish telling Agatha about your last few weeks. She smiles as she shakes her head.

"I have to say I am proud of you." She comments gesturing briefly with her hands. "Are you sure you don't want to add anything else?"

You shrug, unable to remember anything relevant that you haven't mentioned.

You told her about writing again, about trying to drive again. About helping Wanda to stay home without having panic attacks, and to go back to work. You had only managed to drive in the supermarket parking lot, but it was still progress, and Stephen was very happy to hear it about too. The only thing missing to get your life back to normal was your apartment. And you had already arranged with Wanda to visit later that week.

"I have two questions for you then." Agatha says when you confirm that you have nothing to add. "Don't you think it's time to try to reconnect with your friends?"

You hesitate, thoughtfully.

"I don't know." You said slightly uncomfortable. "My friends weren't just mine. They were Nat's friends too. And then she died, and I isolated myself. And well, I guess they were in their own grief too, because none of them tried to look for me anymore."

"You took your time to heal." She says. "Maybe they took theirs too. And now might be the time to reconnect."

You sigh, looking away.

"Yeah, I'll think about it." You speak. You look back at Agatha a moment later. "What was the other question?"

Agatha hides a small smile.

"A sensitive topic for patients who lose their beloved lovers." She says and you frown in confusion. "Well, dear, I need to ask if you are trying to date again?"

You gasp in surprise, feeling your face heat up.

"W-what?"

Agatha lets out a giggle.

"I know this may seem insensitive at first, and that's more because of the sexist socioeconomic construct that treats widowed women as violated property that must belong to their lover for the rest of their lives than anything else but I need you to understand that it's perfectly natural to move on." She narrates and you just stand there with a shocked expression and your heart racing. "You are a single woman now, and you have sexual and emotional human needs. I'm going to help you work through any kind of guilt, because judging your progress, you seem ready to be in a relationship again."

"I...I don't..."

"Don't worry, honey." Agatha interrupts with a giggle. "I'm not telling you to go around fornicating." She jokes. "Not that there's anything wrong with that, of course. But I don't think it's really your style at all."

You feel your face heat up, frowning at Agatha, but she continues to speak.

"Anyway, I'm saying that it will be good if you get back into romantic relationships with other people. Casual encounters, that sort of thing. You are allowed to love someone again, there's nothing wrong with that." She explains getting up toward her own desk, and then gives a mischievous little smile in your direction. "Not to mention that orgasms are great stress relievers."

You choke in surprise, but Agatha just smiles, turning to write the appointment report.

Your face is still very red when you leave her office.

//-//

"I'm going to make a gardener out of you yet, huh?" Monica joked as you finished composting, making you laugh lightly.

"Well, I had a good teacher." You joked back as you stood up.

You were at Wanda's flower shop again. It became routine for you to help Monica with the garden and the flowers. And as the days went by, you got used to being in the greenhouses while she was attending to customers and Wanda was working in the office. It took two weeks for Monica to start joking that you had become a staff member at the flower shop. You don't really mind helping out. Botany has turned out to be something surprisingly relaxing for you. The hours of Wanda's shift passed by quickly when you keep your hands busy with the plants and flowers, your anxiety long forgotten.

"Are you hungry?" Monica asks as soon as you return to the store's front desk, and she pulls out the " break" sign tucked under the counter.

"Sure."

"Let's take a lunch break. See if Wanda wants to join us while I attend that boy." Monica says looking forward toward the window display. There is a boy clearly unsure about whether or not to enter the store and you exchange a chuckle with her before heading towards Wanda's office.

She is on the phone when she answers the door for you, and signals with her finger in her mouth for you not to say anything as she makes room for you to enter. As she mumbles in agreement on the call, you look around. She seems to be working on the organization of some big event judging by the whiteboard in the corner filled with notes, and you figure it's a party or some wedding, because you and Monica have been growing more flowers for this kind of thing lately.

"That sounds pretty good, actually." You listen to her speak as she jots down a few things in an agenda. " Don't worry, we have enough for the engagement party and the ceremony."

The shelf on the side in front of the whiteboard catches your attention, and you walk over to the furniture next.

Wanda moves a little behind you, adding some stickers to the whiteboard. You keep looking at the bookshelf, distracted by the objects on it. There is a picture of the twins that makes you smile, some books, and other small pots of plants. You lightly caress the bonsai before looking down.

You run your fingers over the red flower on Wanda's bookshelf, trying to remember the name. Monica has taught you many things, but you don't know many as well.

"Anthurium" Wanda whispers behind you, as she turns off her cell phone and realizes that you are looking at the flower with curiosity. You murmur in understanding, turning to make comment that it is very beautiful, but your speech dies in your throat when you realize how close Wanda is. "What did you want?" She asks curiously and you are almost leaning your body against the bookshelf, trying to think clearly.

"I-I came to ask if you want to have lunch with us." You say while mentally telling yourself not to look at Wanda's lips.

Wanda murmurs in understanding, and you can barely breathe when she stands even closer, her hand outstretched to something above your head. She pulls out a small stick caught in your hair, and all you can do is stare at her with a racing heart as she bites back a smile, and tosses the stick into one of the vases on the shelf behind you.

"I'd like to join you, but I'm busy." She says and her gaze falls to your lips for a second before she turns her head away and walks off. You let out a breath, wiping your sweaty hands on your pants as Wanda walks toward the table in search of the notepad and pen she was using before hanging up her cell phone. "Can you please bring me something to eat? I'm starving. I just don't know exactly what I want..."

You smile as you see Wanda's thoughtful expression with pen and notebook in hand. You approach, putting the notebook down with your hand gently.

"Don't worry, I know what you like." You say simply, and Wanda blinks in surprise, smiling awkwardly. "I'll stop by that confectionery shop you like and also bring you a dessert, okay? You look stressed."

Wanda laughs lightly, her cheeks flushed.

"Thanks, love."

The nickname slips so naturally from her lips that it takes a moment for both of you to realize what has just been said. Your gaze falls to Wanda's mouth the same minute that her pupils dilate. You are almost breaking the distance when Monica opens the door, not noticing the closeness of the two of you because she has her gaze on a piece of paper in her own hands.

You and Wanda immediately turn away, embarrassed.

"We have a big order, girls." She announces excitedly, raising her eyes to you. Monica frowns slightly at the guilty expressions and reddened faces. "Sorry, did I interrupt something?"

"No." You answer in unison quickly, surprising Monica again, who acquires an expression of suspicion and humor. You clear your throat and Wanda lets out a short laugh.

"We were just talking about lunch." You say. "And well, Wanda has a big order too. I guess you guys will need my help then."

Wanda turns to you again with this statement.

"What? No, I can't make you work for me..."

You interrupt with a laugh.

"Wanda, don't even start." You say. "I love staying here. And I'm happy to help, really. Don't worry about it."

"You sure make my shifts more fun." Adds Monica with a smile, making you laugh. Wanda looks at you intently.

"Are you sure?" She asks, and you smile as you nod in agreement. "We'll talk about it later. You can't work for free, and if you're going to help you need a schedule, and breaks and chores."

You laugh, nodding.

"Yes, boss." You murmur playfully and Wanda pats your arm, making you and Monica laugh.

"Let's get our lunch now, I'm starving." Monica orders as she turns to walk out the door. You murmur in agreement, and quickly kiss Wanda on the cheek before following the other woman. Wanda has a foolish smile on her face until you return with her lunch many minutes later.

//-//

You call Carol Danvers the day before you return to your apartment.

Things go much better than you expected, but it's not surprising, because you usually expect the worst case scenario.

Carol is very happy to hear from you, and you are happy to know that she doesn't hate you for not calling before. You talk for a few minutes, but she can't talk much on the phone because her shift is about to start. You are surprised to learn that she is working in a nightclub downtown now, unlike months ago when she worked in a rock bar in Queens.

She tells you that Bruce was traveling because of his internship, but that he would be in town for the weekend, and invites you to visit her at work. You hesitate because you are not sure if you are ready to go to a club, but you accept as you think of Agatha's words about reconnecting with your friends again.

You are the one who drives to your apartment the next day, after you and Wanda leave the flower shop. Your heart is racing the whole time, but Wanda rests her hand on your thigh to calm you down, and as the minutes go by, you can no longer tell whether you are nervous about the trauma or something else.

Parking in the small condo cluster, you take a deep breath. Wanda gives your thigh one last squeeze before she pulls her hand away and gets out of the car, completely oblivious to the way your entire body trembles at her touch. Shaking your head slightly to push that kind of thought away, you step out of the car.

Your hands are shaking wildly as you take your keys out of your pockets, just as you reach the second floor, after you have politely waved to the people who recognized you on the way to your apartment.

"Hey, breathe." Wanda asks softly beside you. And you take a deep breath, and it helps. And then you turn the key, and go inside.

It is exactly the same as the last time you were here, many months ago, on the day of the accident.

Your mother cleaned it up, of course, but it is still the same. Everything is in the exact same place, even the shoes that Nat left lying in the corner of the bookshelf. And you felt your chest tighten when the flashes of memory began.

You walked around, looking at the surroundings while Wanda followed you. A few tears streamed down your face, but you said nothing.

You were in the kitchen when the first sob escaped your throat. Leaning your hands on the counter, you dropped your keys and tried to push away the memories that were clear in your head.

It was as if you could feel Nat in the room. Seeing her in the armchair, laughing at your jokes, or being a disaster in the kitchen on nights when you tried to eat something homemade. Her books mixed in with yours on the bookshelf, your wedding and graduation pictures on the mantelpiece.

You moved away from the counter quickly, however, as Wanda looked at you intently, unsure whether to approach or not. Walking down the hallway, you stopped in front of your bedroom door.

And you stood there. Long minutes staring at the wood. Unable to move.

Feeling arms around your waist, you sighed, your body relaxing considerably.

Wanda hugged you from behind, and waited. You were crying again, and you only stopped after a while. Taking a deep breath, and lightly stroking Wanda's hand to ask her to let go, you waited for her to let go of you to open the door.

Wanda waited for you outside. You just walked around the room, your face wet as you breathed with difficulty, your arms crossed as if you were afraid to touch anything.

When you came out, you took a deep breath once more. And then you said you needed to call your mother.

That's how you spent the rest of the day packing up your apartment together with Wanda, your mother, and Pietro and Monica, who came to help after Wanda said you needed more people.

You came back the other day too, until the only things left were larger pieces of furniture.

"Are you sure you're going to sell?" Your mother asked you in the parking lot as soon as you left there in the late afternoon. Wanda had just gone home with her brother and sister-in-law.

"That was her apartment, Mom." You say as you put the boxes in the trunk. "I could never live here without Natasha."

"It's a good property." She comments, making you chuckle lightly.

"I'm sure the next owners will love it."

"I don't mean to be disrespectful, dear. It's just a nice apartment, not the kind of thing you get every day and..."

"Are you wanting to keep it by any chance?" You interrupt, irritated at your mother's lack of sensitivity. She sighs, and you frown.

"No. But maybe someone else wants to."

It takes a moment for you to understand what she is implying.

"You know Nat didn't talk to her family."

Your mother looks away.

"Actually..." She begins and you close the trunk with a confused expression, "I've been seeing Melina since January."

You blink in surprise, and then let out a dry laugh.

"I am speechless." You say in shock. "You...are you serious? Wow, I...wow."

You lean back against the car, impressed and annoyed. Your mother sighs guiltily, stepping in front of you again.

"Look, I know I should have had something, but you were so..."

"Sad? Yeah mom, my wife died, I had a right to be."

"That's not what I meant."

You sighed, rolling your eyes.

"Yeah, I know." You grumble. "But it sucks that you kept it from me. What the hell does Melina want anyway?"

Your mother looks away for a moment.

"She wanted to see you actually." She says and you let out a wry laugh. "I know how ridiculous it sounds, but her daughter died and you were the only remaining connection to Natasha."

You push your fingers against your forehead lightly, thinking you are starting to get a migraine from this conversation.

"You know what, Mom?" You say. "Since you two have become such good friends lately, tell her that her chance to connect with me was lost the moment she didn't attend the funeral."

Your mother sighs, but you are already turning to get into the car. She follows you a moment later, sitting in the passenger seat.

You drive in silence back home.

//-//

Over the weekend, you almost canceled your plans with Carol.

Your mother was giving you the silent treatment for the way you refused to talk about Natasha and Melina, and you were very irritated by the whole situation.

Grumbling about how ridiculous it all was, you agreed to have coffee with the two women the following week, and your mother's mood changed considerably, the complete opposite of what happened to you.

But you forced yourself to smile, and got up from the couch to get ready.

Around seven-thirty at night, you arrived at the place, which was already very busy, neon lights peeking through the windows along with the loud music.

"My goodness, look at you!" Greeted Carol cheerfully as soon as you met her at the counter. She turned around to hug you tight, and you felt your chest swell with happiness. You had missed your friend so much.

"You got a haircut" You comment in the same excitement, smiling at her. "I missed you, Danvers."

She smiles, mumbling that she missed you too. She asked you to sit on one of the stools at the front of the bar, and you did so while she went back behind the counter.

You updated each other a bit as she served some customers, and a while later, Bruce arrived.

"Banner I can't believe you are wearing a suit in a nightclub." Carol teased as she greeted her friend, making you chuckle slightly as Bruce explained that he didn't have time to look more casual.

"It's good to see you." He said to you as he hugged you, you repeated the words, then sat at the bar.

A few drinks and laughs later, Carol's shift ended, and she sat at a table with you two.

Between telling your friends about your progress in therapy, and hearing how Carol had left her previous job after punching a slacker client in the face, and learning that Bruce was working as an aspiring scientist, and lecturing around the country, the three of you had enough beers for the direction of the conversation to make your cheeks flush.

"I swear to you, she was the most beautiful woman I have ever seen!" Carol told you, making you and Bruce laugh at her excitement.

"Now you're going to say that the next second you saw the next most beautiful woman in the world?" You teased wryly, and Carol laughed as she told you to shut up. "Are you even dating this Gamora girl?"

Carol hid a smirk, taking a sip of her beer.

"Actually." She began. "We're living together."

You widened your eyes in surprise, and then laughed.

"My god, Carol Danvers in love!" You teased making her laugh as she flashed you her middle finger. "No, but seriously, that's amazing! I'm happy for you, Carol."

"Yes, yes." She says smiling, "But what about you? I know you and Nat were like, madly in love or whatever cheesy stuff you put in your books, but it's been months. It would be nice if you met someone new."

The topic is quite sensitive, and the mood at the table changes because of it. But you are far more embarrassed than upset, and you lower your gaze to your bottle before answering.

" Oh, well, i..." You begin half-heartedly. Your stomach does a flip-flop, because you are thinking of a person. "There is someone, I think. But I don't know if we're both ready to take that on yet."

Carol makes an agreeing noise with her mouth, and then has an insinuating little smile on her face.

"Do you still remember how to be with a girl, champ?" your friend teases, and you nudge her shoulder shyly as she and Bruce laugh.

"Aren't those things like riding a bike?" The other man asked timidly, getting a wry look from Carol.

"You know, Bruce, your innocence is admirable." Carol teases making you laugh.

"Don't be mean." You say poking her lightly in the ribs, but Bruce doesn't really care. It's been that way since college when he told you guys he was asexual. The whole thing was funny because Carol has always been very, very sexual. And they have been teasing each other about it for years.

"Ah but I won't be, I promise." She assures. "Actually, I'm much more interested in hearing about your new girlfriend."

You laugh shyly, drinking some of your beer.

"I don't have a girlfriend."

Carol laughed, her gaze running around the room before returning to you.

"Well, that blonde girl has been looking over here for a few moments. I have a girlfriend, and Bruce doesn't like sex. I guess you're the one who's going to have to talk to her."

You widened your eyes at your friend's words, looking forward quickly.

A blond woman was indeed staring at your table.

"I don't think that's a good idea." You mumble clumsily, and Carol gives a little laugh.

"That's too bad, because now that you've looked, she's going to come here." Your friend warns, and you choke on your beer when you see the girl actually getting up from the countertop.

"Carol, help me." You awkwardly whisper but your friend just laughs, and then the stranger catches up with you all.

"Hi." She greets sensually, looking up at you. You swallow dryly as your friend holds back a giggle. "Would you like to dance?"

"I-I..."

"Use your words." Carol teased lowly next to you, making the girl laugh at your clumsiness.

"Don't be shy, I don't bite." The girl added maliciously. " Unless you ask me to."

You feel your face heat up with embarrassment, and you spread your mouth open, not knowing what to say next. Carol murmurs impressed.

"Sorry, sweetie, she used to function better than that." Carol interrupts the interaction, taking pity on your distress. "I think she's taken. But if it's just a dance, we can all enjoy it together."

The girl bites her lips, seeming to consider. She takes one last look at you, and then accepts the invitation.

This is how you end up on a dance floor, trying to escape the hands of a stranger.

You remember how to dance, and the drink helps a lot. But there are hands running over your body before the woman turns around and starts rubbing against you in rhythm with the music. You feel your breath catch, the excitement of having so much intimate contact after so long reaching you completely.

"Are you sure you're taken?" She whispers against your ear, and you give a short laugh, feeling your head spin.

"Yes." You half-heartedly assure her, using all the rest of your drunken control to push her hands away from you.

The woman didn't mind, stealing a short kiss on your cheek before dancing away, swaying her hips.

Carol threw her arms around you next.

"Wow, you really are in love!" She enthusiastically shouts to be heard between the beats of the music. You laugh with flushed cheeks, saying you need to take some air.

Your friend continues to dance, pulling Bruce close, and the man laughs awkwardly as he puts his arms around the blonde. You chuckle at the scene before turning to go outdoors.

It is easier to breathe outside.

Your first action is to take your cell phone out of your pocket, and check your notifications. Your heart melts when you open a message from Wanda. It is a picture of her and the boys, lying together between a comforter. The caption reads "movie night, doesn't even look like they were jumping on the couch two minutes ago".

You stare at the picture for a few seconds after sending a heart emoji to Wanda. And then you gasp softly, realizing. You really are in love with her. Like in romance movies, and fairy tale books. But also like the real thing. Because you love Wanda's company, her sharp jokes, the way she talks and behaves and cares for everyone. You don't want to be in a bar, or meet another girl. You want to be wrapped in a comforter with Wanda and the kids.

Trying not to panic at this conclusion, you put your cell phone back in your pocket, deciding to go back inside to say goodbye to your friends.

//-//

You are trying to find a way to tell Wanda how you feel. The problem is that you are insecure, because you have no idea if she is ready for a relationship again. You don't even know if she likes women.

With so much suffering in the past months, you also don't want to face a broken heart. So you decide to wait and see how things will turn out.

It is something about the way your life is completely intertwined in Wanda's now, in the same way that she has wrapped herself around your heart that makes you sigh when you think about it everything.

You are distracted while you work, and Monica smiles because you have a smirk while tinkering in the gardens, which is clearly not related to the plants. She doesn't say anything, because it's the same way Wanda smiles when you bring her coffee, or when you two come back from lunch. She can only be excited to think how it will be to organize your wedding.

It is at lunch after group therapy that Wanda invites you to her father's wedding anniversary party. You hadn't met him yet, and a party was a good thing, because you wouldn't have all his attention on you, and it lessens your anxiety considerably.

The party will be at Wanda's father's country house, and you will be able to cross the "take a trip" goal off your therapy to-do list.

In the meantime, you prepare to see Natasha's mother.

It is a Thursday, and you set aside your lunch period for this, because you really don't want this meeting to last more than an hour.

Your mother and Melina are already in the restaurant when you arrive, and you nod politely to the woman when you sit down at the table, signaling that she doesn't need to get up.

"So, what did you want?" you ask snidely, earning a scolding from your mother. Melina doesn't seem to mind your aggressiveness however.

"Let's order something to eat first please." Your mother says before the other woman can respond. You roll your eyes, not disagreeing.

After the waitress takes your orders and leaves, you cross your arms impatiently.

"Look, I know it's hard for you to hear from me after all this time..." The woman begins.

"Hard for me?" You cut her off with irony. "No, Melina. I was not the daughter you abandoned. It was just hard for Nat not to have you around. I simply don't like you myself."

"Honey" Your mother warns, but you let out a dry laugh.

"No, really." You continue firmly. "What do you really want with me?"

Melina sighs, straightening herself in her chair.

"Your mother told me that you intend to sell Natasha's apartment." She says. "I don't approve of such a decision."

You stare at her for a moment, and then let out a laugh.

"I should have known you'd only show up for the money." You say feeling your stomach turn with anger. Melina rolls her eyes, but doesn't deny it. Your mother looks surprised that you are right.

"I gave that apartment to Natasha..."

" I beg your pardon?" you interrupt angrily, your loud tone attracting the attention of the next table. "You gave her the apartment? Are you listening to yourself now?"

"We don't need to get carried away." She asked with irritation in her eyes, drawing a nasal laugh of indignation from you. "You know I'm right."

"No, Melina." You retort seriously, lowering your tone. "Clarify for me how you can possibly think that putting an apartment full of debt in your daughter's name to escape the state, making her work two shifts to pay for everything, sets up like giving an apartment to someone?"

"You are manipulating the facts." She hits back and you nod in disbelief, closing your eyes momentarily. "I had financial problems, and Nat didn't object when I suggested..."

"She was 15." You cut in. "You forgot that little detail right? You also forgot about going to the guardianship board to emancipate your 15 year old daughter just so she could take on a debt of yours?" You asked angrily. "Oh, did you forget about Nat working in a diner throughout her teenage years to pay for everything?"

Melina clenched her jaw, glaring at you angrily. You really weren't in the least bit of patience for this conversation, and it was a good thing the waitress arrived with your orders, because you were about to turn the table.

"I am not hungry anymore." You grumble as soon as the waitress leaves and you look down at your food, your stomach turning. Then you look forward. "When I sell the apartment, I will talk to your lawyer and if you are entitled to anything, you can rest assured that it will come in the mail. Now do me a favor, and never look for me again."

After saying these words to Melina, you exchange a quick glance with your mother and get up, walking to the exit.

//-//

You are pretty upset about the whole Melina thing, but your mood improves almost immediately when Wanda invites you to visit her.

Actually, she needs help with the kids, because she's busy with a rich lady's wedding that required priority on the flower project, and the summer vacation started that week.

Monica was helping Wanda with the whole design, so you and Pietro would take care of the kids.

It was quite fun to do it, because you loved children. Pietro even had the bright idea of setting up a little lemonade stand outside Wanda's house, and while the other women were working, you and he took the kids outdoors.

"Don't you think a million dollars is a lot of money for a glass of lemonade, Billy?" you ask the boy as you watch him put several zeros on the price cardboard. Pietro laughs as he helps his daughter pin up her hair.

"I don't know." The kid tells you without stopping drawing. "I'm a kid, I've never paid anything."

You laugh, looking forward. You and Pietro are sitting on chairs placed on the grass while the children play around the lemonade stand.

When some of the neighbors buy the lemonade, you tell Billy that a gold coin is worth a million, and he doesn't argue.

The temperature rises considerably throughout the day, and around two in the afternoon you and Pietro decide that it would be good to take the kids swimming.

"Call the wives please." Pietro says to you as you stand in the living room after you two walk back in and put everything away, and he is helping the children put on bathing suits. You feel your face heat up at the innocent insinuation of Wanda being your wife, but you say nothing and he doesn't even seem to notice.

You knock on the door, then enter the office, and smile at the two women inside, who seemed to be concentrating on their own papers.

"Let's go for a quick swim girls?" You ask, ignoring the way your stomach gets butterflies when Wanda looks up at you.

Monica lets out an excited exclamation.

"Yes, please!" She says. "This room feels like an oven!"

You and Wanda laugh, and you make room for Monica to walk past you.

"Any chance you have a bathing suit in my size?" You ask Wanda next, and she bites back a smile, thoughtful.

"Let 's find out."

//-//

It is only upstairs that you realize that you have never been in Wanda's bedroom before.

All the times you have been here, you were reserved for the living room, the kitchen and the office. Except for the times you were in the twins' bedroom, and well, when you used the bathroom.

You stood still a bit past the entrance, not knowing exactly what to do with your hands as Wanda searched the closets for a bathing suit for you.

"You know you can look around right?" Wanda commented with playfulness in her speech, making you chuckle shyly.

Stepping forward, you twiddled your fingers together nervously as you looked around. You smiled at the decorations, and especially at the pictures on the dresser.

"Damn, I think I only have one pair." Wanda grumbled as she closed the closet, turning to you next, a swimsuit in her hands. "Do you want to wear it?"

You smiled wryly.

"Not if it's the only one you have." You say. "Don't worry, I'll keep my T-shirt on."

"Don't be silly, it's really hot outside. I'll lend you a bra."

Wanda leaves her swimsuit on the bed and walks over to the dresser behind you. You step aside to give her room to open the drawers.

You look quickly away from the underwear drawer, feeling your heart race at the intimacy of this moment. It only gets worse when Wanda hands you a black sports top, which she is glad to have found.

"Thank you, Wands." You mutter as you accept the garment.

You widen your eyes as Wanda begins to unbutton the shirt she is wearing, but before you have a heart attack, she flashes you a small smile and picks up the swimsuit from the bed, turning toward the bathroom as she uses her free hand to keep the shirt closed.

You take advantage of Wanda's exit to quickly take your shirt off, put on the top and then the T-shirt over it.

A moment later she returns, and your breath catches in your throat.

"This swimsuit has a tie in the back, can you help me with that?" Wanda asks distractedly as she tucks her hair into a bun. You swallow dryly, trying to keep your gaze off her exposed legs.

Wanda stands facing the dresser, watching you approach through the mirror. You ignore your uncompensated heartbeat as you stare back at her, and let out a shy smile as you lower your gaze when you notice her flushed cheeks as you stand right behind her.

Raising your fingers to the height of her back, you gently touch the skin exposed by the opening of her swimsuit. The contact makes every inch of the woman's skin shiver in front of you, and she sighs softly, the sound making your stomach turn.

You risk looking forward again, at your reflection, only to find Wanda's mouth ajar, her eyes dark. You risk dragging your fingers further inside the fabric, making her choke lightly.

Completely mesmerized by the way Wanda's body responds to your touch, you raise your other hand, trailing a finger up from the length of her coccyx to the opening of her swimsuit, watching Wanda close her fists as her cheeks redden.

You can hear the sounds of her uncompensated breathing, but you can also hear the muffled laughter from the distance downstairs, and that motivates you enough to ignore the trembling of your fingers as you zip up Wanda's swimsuit.

"W-we should go downstairs." You whisper in a hoarse voice, ignoring the urge to rip off Wanda's swimsuit.

The redhead swallows dryly before slowly turning toward you. Your faces are so close that you can feel her breath on your cheek.

"I..."

"Mommy why are you taking so long?" Billy's muffled scream coming from the backyard through the window makes you and Wanda jump in fright.

Pietro and Tommy repeat the same sentence next, and you clear your throat, taking a step back. Wanda can't keep her gaze on you as you both walk down to the pool outside.

You can only distract yourself from the feel of Wanda's skin on your fingers because you play in the pool with everyone, and these thoughts are pushed to the back of your mind for the rest of the afternoon.

It is only when you have to leave, after the children have had a bath, and are dressed in comfortable clothes in front of the television, and you have hugged Monica and Pietro goodbye that these thoughts come flooding back when you have to repeat the gesture with Wanda.

You disguise yourself, smiling politely at the couple standing behind the redhead as you let your arms circle her waist as you hug her. Resisting the urge to close your eyes and sink your face into Wanda's neck, who has her hands on your shoulders, you hold back a sigh as you pull away.

"See you on Monday." You murmur in a husky voice, and the redhead nods, her gaze falling quickly to your lips.

You think you'd better get in the car before you lose control of your body.

//-//

Startled slightly, you opened your eyes with difficulty. Someone was calling you, but it must have been very late, because you couldn't see anything in the room but the blinking light on your dresser.

Grumbling, you stretched your arm out to reach for your vibrating cell phone and answer the call.

"Hello?" you asked in a voice hoarse from sleep, closing your eyes again.

"Hey, sorry to wake you." It was Wanda, and her whiny voice made you open your eyes quickly, worried.

"Wanda? Did something happen?"

"Yeah." She agrees, sniffling softly. "I just... I'm so sad. The whole fucking time. Then Tony came over and started saying these things and now I'm crying and I can't stop. I'm sorry, it's not your problem, I shouldn't have called and..."

"I'm coming."

You think Wanda tried to say something to stop you, but you ended the call as you stood up.

"Where are you going?" Your mother asked as soon as you came downstairs, and you were startled to find her awake, but you didn't ask as you noticed the laptop in your lap.

"Wanda." You mumble simply, looking for your keys.

"Kitchen countertop." She informed and you muttered a thank you as you picked up the item from the mentioned spot. "You know, if you're going to start leaving the house at dawn to see her, it might be best to move in with her."

You chuckled awkwardly at the comment as you put on your shoes.

"Try to get some sleep, work will still be there in the morning." You tell her to change the subject, and your mother sighs, turning her attention back to the screen. "You don't have to wait up for me."

"Oh, I figured." She teases last making you roll your eyes in embarrassment before opening the door to leave.

//-//

You didn't have to knock on the door, because as soon as you parked the car and got out, you had a view of the outside garden porch, and you could see Wanda sitting on the rocking bench, looking at the ground.

You sighed, opening the garden gate to enter the backyard.

Making a noise with your feet so as not to startle her, you felt your heart squeeze as she wiped her tears away quickly, turning her head to the side. You sighed, taking a seat on the bench in front of her, rocking it slightly.

"Do you want to talk about it?" You asked a moment later, and from the redhead's silence, you figured not. But she nodded next, looking down at her own feet. "Tell me what happened then."

It takes a moment, but Wanda speaks. She tells how Tony Stark showed up at her door at three in the morning, saying that he blamed himself for his brother death but that this was a good thing now because it was exactly what he needed to change his life and stop drinking, and that she punched him in the nose, saying that this was always his problem, everything was always about him. Tony promised that he would be someone decent now, that he was going to change, and Wanda just pushed him away, telling him to go change somewhere else.

"I feel like the worst person in the world right now." She grumbles as soon as she finishes narrating.

"Why?"

"Tony has been an alcoholic since he was fifteen, and he's finally getting better. I think he was in need of someone to help him."

You shook your head, letting out a short laugh.

"And why is that your problem?" you retorted, surprising her. "Wanda you are under no obligation to suppress your feelings to make others feel better. You have every right to feel angry with Tony. And to not want him in your life again."

Wanda takes a deep breath, burying her face in her hands for a moment, as if trying to believe your words.

You bit the inside of your cheek, deciding whether to speak what you wanted to.

"Wands?" You called after her, and she looked at you. "You said you were sad. Do you want to talk about that too?"

The redhead looks away from you, a weak smile on her lips.

"I don't know how to talk about it really." She starts by looking down at her feet. "I never did."

You wait, stretching your leg out and lightly tapping your feet together with her on the floor. Wanda smiles at the movement, and then bites her lips.

"I think it started when I was a kid." She counters thoughtfully, her gaze straying to the yard around her. "Ever since mama died, or maybe before. There's this sadness, stuck in my chest. And no matter what I do, it won't go away."

You listen intently, waiting for Wanda to finish.

"When I was younger, Papa worked all day and Mama took care of me and Pietro. But she got sick, and granny came to live with us to help. I was ten when she died, and Pietro's anxiety got worse." She swallows dryly, as if the memories are choking her. "Granny didn't know how to help my brother, so I took care of him myself. And when we were in high school, she got sick too. And well, Dad didn't know what to do really, so I took care of her at home while he and Pietro worked to pay for the medications." She adds, and sniffles lightly. "I just remember being tired. All the damn time. I'd go to school, and come home, and I'd eat, and play, and watch TV, but I wasn't really there. I started to think that's how everybody else felt, because I had a normal life, and I had no reason to feel sad."

You frown slightly, but bite your tongue to keep from interrupting.

"Grandma died just before I graduated, and I barely had time to miss her, busy with college applications, and taking care of the funeral at the same time." She counters with a wry laugh, as if realizing how unfair it was that she was left to take care of everything by herself. "And then I met Vis, and he was sweet and kind and he was everything anyone could want. The perfect boyfriend, perfect friend, and brother and husband. So I choked down that sadness, because it wasn't fair that I was with someone so amazing, and I wasn't satisfied." She recounts as she lets the tears flow. "When the twins came, everyone told me that my life was complete. That children were exactly what everyone wanted, and that I had the perfect life. So I kept that image."

Wanda raises her hand to wipe away a tear that ran down her cheek, but others kept falling next.

"With Vis's death, everything started to fall apart on me." She says after a pause, biting her lips slightly to hold back the crying. She lets out a nasal laugh next. "But I wasn't going to let that happen, so I gathered the pieces together. I put a smile on my face and continued to be the mother my children needed. And then I met you."

You frown in confusion, but Wanda does not look at you. She runs her hands through her hair, shaking her head slightly.

"You came into my life at its worst possible moment. And all you did was make me feel better again." Wanda declared with a sigh, and you felt your cheeks heat up, looking away to your feet. "You don't expect me to be happy, or polite, or sociable. You don't care that I get cranky and irritable, that I wanted to skip work or eat junk food." She counters, wiping a tear from her cheek. "I feel like I can breathe again, because when you look at me you don't judge me like everyone else. You just listen, and observe. And take care of me."

You sigh, impacted by the intensity of the confessions. You think that if you keep quiet long enough, Wanda can hear your heart beating fast.

The redhead takes a deep breath, twisting her fingers slightly before speaking again.

"That's why I called." She counters in a sigh. Her eyes fill with tears again, but she doesn't let them fall. "You've been the only person who makes me feel this way. And when Tony came along I felt I was drowning into those terrible thoughts again. I needed you to pull me back up."

You raise your head to Wanda, but she is looking down at the floor, her cheeks flushed. You smile, rising to sit beside her.

"I will." You whisper as you interlace your fingers, looking forward. Wanda stares at your entwined hands before leaning her head on your shoulder.

"Thank you." She murmurs a moment later.

"Don't mention it." You reply in the same tone.

You stand like this for many minutes, Wanda wiggling your fingers together. You are about to close your eyes when a childish voice startles you a little.

"Mommy?" it's Billy, dressed in adorable teddy bear pajamas, scratching his eyes sleepily. "Why are you out here?"

Wanda looks at him in surprise.

"Come here dear." Wanda asks signaling with her free hand for Billy to approach. The boy yawns, walking over to you two. You mess up his hair as Wanda releases her hand to sit her son on her own lap.

"Why are you here, Y/N?" The boy asks sleepily, making you and Wanda smile at how cute he looks.

"I am a friend of your mother's, Billy, I come whenever she needs me." You reply with a smile, trying not to be affected by the way Wanda looks at you.

"You should come more often, y/n. Mom is happy when you are around." Billy declares causing Wanda to let out a surprised exclamation, and you feel your heart race.

"Oh, really?" You tease with a little smile, and Wanda pushes her shoulder against yours lightly. "I promise I'll visit more often then."

"You can live here!" Billy exclaims excitedly next, making you laugh in surprise.

"Don't be silly, Billy." Wanda adds embarrassed. "We don't have a room."

"She can sleep with you mommy." Billy retorts as if it's obvious, "Daddy's not here anymore, and your bed is too big, because it fits Tommy and me together!"

You swallow dryly, surprised and embarrassed at the way Billy is casual above all, but mostly worried that this comparison might have hurt Wanda. But she lets out a little laugh, shaking her head.

"It's time for bed, enough of this talk" Wanda warns the boy next, getting up with him on her lap.

You accompany the two of them into the house, waiting until Wanda comes downstairs after putting Billy to bed.

Billy's words in your head were still echoing when Wanda suggested that you sleep in her bed after she came downstairs, and part of you wanted to, but you figured that night wasn't the best time. So you slept on the couch, and left after breakfast, ignoring how warm your chest felt at the image of the table with Wanda and the twins having coffee.

//-//

Your first stop after leaving Wanda's house was the cemetery.

Taking a deep breath, you stared at the memorial stone in the ground. The small photograph of Natasha carved into the stone.

"I miss you, pchelka" You whispered softly, leaving your hands in your pockets as you looked down. Your chest hurt less than the first time you came here, but the pain was still there. You imagined that it always would be. "I won't ever stop. But I want to live again. I hope you won’t be mad at me, from wherever you are, and understand that."

Part of you knew that Natasha would be happy for you. It was one of the reasons you loved her so much.

Kneeling down, you pulled out of your pocket the items you had left in the car's glove box a few days ago, planning to do this since the day of the bar.

" This belongs to you." You whispered, after digging in the grass next to the headstone, and pulling out of the small wrapping your wedding rings. You placed the metal in the dirt, along with the daffodil seeds you brought with you. Using some of the water from the bottle you had in your hands, you watered after burying the items. "Rest in peace, my love."

#wanda maximoff #wanda x reader #wandaxyou #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda x you #wanda x yn #wanda maximoff x you #marvel imagines #sorry for your loss

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mikalara-dracula · 3 years

Text

Rainy days with their s/o

ft. Yuma and Subaru

Warning: 18+ content below; don't read if you're a minor.

Yuma:

Well, since he can’t garden that day, he’s quite bored and out of ideas as to what to do.

He’d be kinda grumpy about it, especially if he was planning to plant something new that day.

“Man, out of all days it has to rain today.”

“You say that every time it rains. It’s mother nature’s way of doing things. You can’t change it.”

“Tch! What does she know?!”

He’d eventually get over the fact that he can’t garden and would sit down and watch a little TV with you, however, he’s always judging everything that’s on.

For example, if a movie or show is on and he doesn’t really like it, he’ll criticize the characters he finds stupid.

“That guy’s an idiot. That’s not how you get a girl.”

“Oh, and I suppose you know?”

“How do you think I got you, little pig.” He’d grin, making you hit him playfully.

On days like this, he tends to get clingy because he has nothing else to do.

Basically, without his garden he’s lost on what to do and will constantly tease and bother you throughout the day.

For example, since it’s rainy outside, you figured you’d make yourself a nice hot chocolate since it corresponded well with the weather.

However, as you were drinking it in the kitchen, he came in and decided to bother you about what you were doing.

“What are you drinking, little pig?”

“A hot chocolate.” You’d smile.

“Oh good, maybe you’ll gain a little and it’ll go where I want it most.” He’d grin while reaching behind to clutch your ass xDD.

“Yuma! Is that all you care about?!”

“Hey, this little pig’s ass belongs to me, so I get to decide how big I want it.”

If you two are cuddling on the couch, he absolutely refuses to let you go. He literally treats you as if you’re his body pillow.

“Yuma, let me go.”

“Fight your way out of it, little pig.” He’d grin, finding your struggle funny.

Since there isn’t much to do on days like this, he might allow you to style his hair any way you want and might even do yours.

Believe it or not, he's an expert at braiding. His favorite style is a fishtail braid and he thinks it looks beautiful on you.

His talent for braiding is so versed that even his brothers might comment as to how pretty it looks on you.

"It looks so . . . nice, Y/N." Azusa would comment.

"Wow little maso-kitty, it looks great on you. Did Yuma do that?" Kou would add.

"As expected, Yuma's known for such styles. You display it well." Ruki would admit.

“Yeah, only the best for my little pig.” Yuma would smirk, a subtle boast in his tone, causing you to blush at his statement.

He likes giving you piggy back rides throughout the house, but he’ll pretend to drop you just to scare you because he’s an asshole.

With all this boredom, Yuma might even get into asking you a few dirty riddles.

"Hey little pig, what's six inches long, goes in your mouth and is more fun if it vibrates?"

"Yuma!"

"Damn, little pig, I didn't know you could be so dirty-minded. I'm just talking about a toothbrush."

"Well it certainly didn't sound that way."

"My god! How could you think such a thing?” He said, acting oh-so innocent, a smirk soon appearing on his face, showing his true colors. “Oh, I get it, you wanted it to be something else."

“What are you-,”

“C’mere, little pig.” He’d say, tackling and pinning you to a nearby couch, starting to tickle you.

"No! Stop!'' You'd squeal, Yuma still continuing to tickle you as you laughed beneath him.

At one point he might grow fed up with the rain and decide to go outside anyways.

"Y’know what, this is stupid. C'mon, little pig. We're not gonna let a little rain tell us what to do." He’d say, taking you by your wrist and dragging you behind him.

"Yuma, wai-,"

He’d continue running and drag you outside in the pouring rain, making you get soaking wet as he picks you up into his arms and spins you around, his lips melding onto yours as he’d hungrily kiss you. He’d soon pull away and put you down, a scowl on your face due to him getting you drenched in mother nature’s tears.

“Yuma! You got me all wet!”

"Damn, I tried to make this romantic and you're complaining about getting wet?"

You’d sigh, “Getting romantic doesn’t mean getting wet!”

“Oh really?” He’d smirk. “Then how come my little pig gets wet every time I-,”

“Shut up!” You’d say, hitting him playfully, causing him to laugh.

Subaru:

Doesn’t care if it’s rainy or not since he doesn’t really go out.

However, if it’s raining at night time and he wants to go in the rose garden, he might be a little irritated about it.

And since he doesn’t have any hobbies, this is a little hard on him.

Plus, since he’s a tsundere, he'll act pretty annoyed in general, even going down to being a total ass.

Compared to Yuma, he gets clingy in a different way--that is, he secretly hopes that you’ll spend time with him since he can’t go out to the garden.

If you’re busy doing your own stuff tho, he’ll attempt to get involved but will act like he’s disinterested in doing so.

But it’s not like you mind him getting involved--that is, if he’s being genuine.

For example, you were once sitting down at the table working on your homework late at night, finishing up the last thing for your assignment when he walked in and came up behind you.

He placed his head in the crook of your neck, being curious about what you were doing as his gaze traveled to the assignment you were working on.

“What are you doing?”

“Homework.” You’d answer.

“Tch! What a pain.”

“It’s not so bad, I’m almost done.”

“Why don’t you just take a break?”

“Subaru, there’s really no point since I’m close to finishing.” You’d say going back to your work, but of course, the white-haired vampire had to persist.

He lifted up his face from the crook of your neck and took notice of your exposed bra strap. A smirk grew on his face and being the tease that he is, he’d take his fingers and use them to pull on it and have smack against your skin just to annoy you and throw you off guard.

“What the hell?”

“It’s not my fault it was right there, you should hide it better next time.” He’d smirk.

If the atmosphere is quiet and he sees you’re busy but doesn’t want to bother you, he’ll just watch what you’re doing whilst you’re busy working and shuffling around doing your stuff. With watching the way your body moves and the look of concentration on your face, it builds up a lot of sexual tension as he'd stand by with his arms crossed in hopes that something intimate happens or is initiated.

Oh the things this bby car imagines xDD.

He’ll also try to get involved in other things you’d be doing as well, such as crafts.

After finishing your homework, you decided to do something a bit more productive, so you decided to go work on a painting you had been working on. You’d get pretty focused and concentrated, that is until Subaru came up behind you and decided to intervene.

“What are you up to now?”

“Painting.”

“Tch! Lame.”

He’d just continue to stand there, his figure still looming over yours. An idea soon hit you. You knew he was bored, so you decided to make painting time a little more fun.

Turning to him, you’d ask, “Hey, why don’t you help.”

“Huh?”

“Help me with the painting.”

“Do I look like Picasso to you?” He’d sarcastically remark.

“Subaru, it doesn’t matter what it looks like in the end. What matters is the fun you have when painting.”

“Tch! That’s stupid.” He’d retort.

“Alright, then. Suit yourself.”

Since he didn’t want to, you turned around and began painting again.

Deep down, Subaru secretly found your offer to be sweet since he really didn’t mind helping and wanted to spend time with you, but because he has a hard time expressing his emotions through his tough exterior, it always came off as if he didn’t care.

The white-haired vampire sighed, feeling torn between the feeling of wanting to do something memorable with you versus him getting caught doing something crafty by one of his brothers, but because you were more important, he decided to help.

“Alright, where do you want me to begin?” He’d say picking up a brush and sitting down next to you.

Taken back by his sudden decision, you’d say. “Oh, um, you can start over here.” You’d say, pointing to a blank space on the canvas. “Just paint it blue for now and then I’ll tell you what to do from there.”

He said nothing and began to do what you asked him, both of you working hard on the masterpiece.

While working, you’d occasionally sneak a few glances at him, seeing how his progress was going.

You honestly had to admit how attractive Subaru looked when he was concentrated on something, the way his eyes angled themselves as they narrowed in on the area he was working on, a few stray locks being in his face, his lips being ajar and lurid in the lighting as he continued to work.

To be honest, you definitely had to ask him to paint more often with you.

He definitely looked busy, an idea striking you again but in a more playful aspect. Since he looked so concentrated, you dipped your finger into the paint and smeared some on his cheek.

“Hey! What the hell?!”

You honestly couldn’t help but laugh, leading him to grin, “Oh, you think that’s funny? Then how about this?”

He’d be quick to dip multiple fingers in the paint and smear it all over your face. Accepting his challenge, you were quick to dip your hand in paint and smear it all over his face as payback, but this was far from over.

This ended up becoming an entire paint war, you and Subaru’s laughter echoing as you chased each other about the room and continued to smear and splatter paint on each other, both of you becoming a colored mess as the walls became vandalized in the process.

“I’m gonna get you, Y/N. You’re gonna look like a rainbow by the time this is over.” He’d grin, his hand fully loaded with paint being ready to rub it on you.

“Catch me if you can!” You’d tease sticking your tongue out, whilst running away from him.

It was all fun and games however, until Reiji came in and saw the mess, leading him to scold you two.

“What is the meaning of this?”

You both would be quick to blame it on each other as you’d talk over each other in unison, but Reiji didn’t care to hear excuses.

“Please see to it that this is cleaned up, otherwise I’ll have to discipline the two of you thoroughly.” He’d say, quickly taking his leave as you both laughed about what happened, soon cleaning it up together.

On rainy nights, he might show a bit of a soft side.

However, bear in mind that he will be quick to lean back into his tsundere side if he thinks the moment is getting too soft.

Likes to lay in his coffin with you if you both want to relax. He’ll act annoyed the entire time due to him being a tsundere, but secretly, he loves the fact that you’re next to him.

Likes to have you sit in his lap, while you’re reading, having a blanket draped over the both of you, whilst he’d rest his face in the crook of your neck. He honestly loves being so close to you, but he’d never admit it.

Here, he might take the opportunity to either place a soft kiss on your neck or bite your shoulder if he’s feeling thirsty.

He likes to cuddle and lay on top of you, but won't let you leave to do anything else because he's so clingy.

"Subaru, let me go."

"Not a chance."

When he’s not being soft, you two are bound to bicker about the stupidest things--like heights, for example, leading him to become a total mess.

"You're not taller than me, Y/N. We've been over this."

"Oh no?" You’d sass, stepping onto his coffin, being slightly taller than him now. "How about now?"

He scoffed, a grin appearing on his face as he’d playfully grab you and pin you onto a nearby wall, giving you the greediest and lustful kisses as you both kept laughing in unison.

Might let you style his hair, such as putting it up into a ponytail or style it in some other way.

You once put bows in his hair and he was so annoyed by it at first, but he eventually started to find it funny and began laughing with you, but that was all until Laito came in and took a picture of him with his new style.

“Fufu~, love the new look, Subaru. I’ve gotta say it suits you.”

“Why you!” He’d hiss, quickly running after him to make him delete the photo and beat the living crap out of him for doing that and seeing him in such a state.

On rainy nights, be prepared for a lot of fun and games because apart from paint wars, Subaru can take things to a whole new level.

Since it was raining and you couldn’t go anywhere, you decided to try out a new makeup style.

And of course, he’d have to get into your business and tell you he finds it stupid.

"Tch! Why do girls even wear that shit?!"

"Oh shut up, you boys like it. Don't lie.”

“Whatever.” He’d retort, saying nothing else.

You sighed knowing he was bored, so you asked the unthinkable once again to help him cope with not being able to go out because of the rain.

“Do you want help?”

“Help? With what?”

“With this new makeup style.”

“Tch! Seriously?”

“All you have to do is add the eyeshadow and lipstick. I’m not asking you to do anything crazy.”

Sighing and knowing it was better than doing nothing, he’d say, “Fine.”

He’d turn you to him so he could have better access to your face to apply the makeup.

“Just don't make me look like a clown.” You’d warn closing your eyes, allowing Subaru to put on the eyeshadow.

This is when he was struck with a mischievous idea, an infamous smirk twisting on his lips as he applied the makeup to your face.

And after what seemed like quite some time, he finally finished.

“Okay, it’s done.”

You’d sigh, “Finally, I can’t wait to see it. I’m sure it looks amazing.”

“You bet it does.” He’d mutter under his breath, it not being loud enough for you to hear.

Opening your eyes, you looked at your reflection in the mirror and screamed. The makeup looked so bad, maybe worse than a clown.

"Subaru!"

“Ha! What a face!” He’d scoff.

“Ass!” You’d hiss, chasing him around the room as he’d laugh.

Now because you couldn’t let him get away with what he did, as payback you decided to draw a mustache on him while he was sleeping.

When he woke up and saw his reflection in the mirror he grew shocked, and instantly knew it was you who had done it.

(Ik vampires typically can’t see their reflection in a mirror, but I’m not sure about DL here, but let’s just assume that he can considering it hasn’t been mentioned (maybe I’m wrong here??); and also because Reiji implied that some human-made vulnerabilities don’t apply to them, so this might not).

“Y/N!”

“Payback's a bitch isn't it?” You’d giggle, standing a few feet away from him.

“Now, you're gonna get it!” He’d say, chasing you around to no end, only leaving you to laugh as he kept running after you.

#diabolik lovers #diabolik lovers headcanons #yuma mukami #subaru sakamaki

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libraryofloveletters · 4 years

Text

Broken

Evan Buckley x Reader

Warnings: Fem!reader, mentions of court, shitty description of witness questioning, mentions of loss of spouse, crying, character flaws, mentions of death, cheating and pregnancy.

Category: Angst

Word Count: 2.3k

Author’s Note: Based on @venusrosepetal‘s request! Also, this is definitely not going to be the most accurate court scene considering that I'm just going off what I can remember from watching Suits looool

----

Idiot.

That’s what he is and that’s why you had to drag yourself to court on a Monday morning before 9am.

Buck decided that filing a wrongful termination lawsuit would fix all of his problems. Bobby had picked you up with a promise of coffee and he made good on that promise. Chim, Eddie and Hen would be meeting you at the courthouse.

Court started half an hour after the 5 of you arrived, Buck sat to one side with his lawyer and you guys sat on the other side. Bobby was first on the stand, his questioning lasted the longest, seeing that Buck was suing the city, the LAFD and Bobby. Next was Chim, followed by Hen and Eddie, finally you were last.

“Calling Ms. y/n l/n to the stand” Chim gave your hand a little squeeze as you got up and walked to the stand. The bailiff comes up to you, “Please raise your right hand,” you do as you’re told, “do you swear to tell the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth ?” he looks at you, you nod, “I do”

The lawyer begins to ask you a line of basic questions that he asked all your coworkers such as what was your name, where do you work, what is your relationship with the plaintiff. You go about answering the questions, you have nothing to lie about.

“Do you believe that the plaintiff was wrongfully terminated ?” the lawyer questions you, pacing by the table.

“No, I do not”

“And why is that?”

“Bu- Mr. Buckley was injured and unfit to return to work without proper healing and instruction to do so by his doctor. He was pushing himself further than he could go and he was going to hurt himself again, he lost his job simply for his own well being”

“Do you still believe this to be true ? Although he’s all healed now ?”

“Yes”

The lawyer turns back and takes a seat at the table. “No further questions, your honour”, Buck’s lawyer stood up and walked around the table.

“Ms. l/n, how do you know my client?”

“We worked together at the 118″

“And what is the 118?” he asked you, you resisted the urge to roll your eyes at his stupid question, “The fire station” you answered, he hums, seeming satisfied.

“And what is your relationship with him ?”

“We used to be coworkers”

“Would you go as far as to say you were friends?”

“Sure”

The lawyer paced, before making his way over to you, his arm rested on the stand. Once again, you resisted the urge to roll your eyes. “Your statement about your opinion on his termination and his well being, was that said as a co worker or as something more ?”

“I don't follow, what are you asking me ?”

“Why were you so concerned about Mr. Buckley’s well being ?” he says plainly,

“We were friends, I didn’t want him to hurt himself more than he already was.”

“These concerns.. they weren’t based on any romantic feelings?” he looked over at you, your brows furrowed, a look of confusion washes over your face.

“Romantic feelings ?” you question him back.

“Well, I know your late husband, Sergeant l/n, died in a shootout, isn't that correct ?” he asks, looking back over at you as he paced the room once again.

“Objection, her past relationships has nothing to do with this, your honour” the lawyer called out, he could see that you were uncomfortable. Your eyes flicker over to the team, they seem confused. None of them knew you were previously married. After your husband died, you moved to LA for a fresh start, to let go of the past and move on. You never told anyone about your husband, you only confided in Buck.

How would he even think about using that against you ?

“Overruled, answer the question Ms. l/n”

Taking a breath, you glanced over at the lawyer, “yes, he did.”

“How long were the two of you married if you don't mind me asking ?”

“2 years”

“Hm and why didn't you pursue a relationship with Mr. Buckley when you came to LA? Was it the fear of losing him like you lost your husband ?”

The entire courtroom went silent after that question, you couldn't bring yourself to answer him. He hit a nerve, opened a box of feelings that you had pushed deep down and never thought about. You see Bobby pull at the lawyer, whispering something to him. The lawyer nods and turns to the judge, “objection, this isn't relevant at all” the judge ignored his objection and overruled it once again.

“Ms. l/n, was it the fear of losing him like you lost your husband the reason as to why you didn't pursue a relationship with him ?” Buck’s lawyer asks you again. Looking over at Buck, his eyes fixed on yours, “I already lost him.” you say, looking back at Buck. You felt sick to say the least. Buck’s face went blank, any show of emotion that was there was now replaced with sadness.

“That’s all, your honour” the stupid lawyer seemed pleased with himself. Buck begins whispering to him as you get off the stand, “Court will be resumed tomorrow.” the judge calls out, banging the gavel. You make your way over to the team, Eddie pulls you into a hug. You broke down the moment his arms wrapped around you, he held you close for a few moments before whispering, “c’mon, don't give him the satisfaction of seeing you like this” you nodded, wiping away the tears with your fingers. Bobby turns to you, “I’m sorry” “for what ? It’s not your fault Cap” he gives you a smile, telling the 4 of you to go ahead as he talks to the lawyer about what happens next.

The 4 of you get on the elevator, Eddie and Hen stood behind you and Chim. Buck comes running out of the courtroom and looks around, he spots the 4 of you in the elevator. “Guys!” he comes running towards the elevator, your body goes tense. Turning away from the doors, your body is facing Hen now. You can hear Chim mumbling “come on, close faster” as he pushes the button a few times. It closes just before Buck reaches the elevator.

Hen pulls you into a hug, “he's not even worth the time y/n. Don’t let him have those precious tears” she smiles, your head rests on her shoulder.

Weeks have gone by and things were starting to get back to normal. You told the team about your husband after the day at court and they understood why you didn't talk about it. They didn't pressure you into telling what you didn't want top, they simply listened.

Buck returned to work as of last week, he dropped the lawsuit but the tension was still high in the station. Chim and Hen spoke to him like normal, as did Bobby although he was a bit harsher towards Buck, but Buck brought that on himself. Eddie was furious with him, furious because he lost his best friend, furious because he couldn’t bring himself to forgive him and furious because Buck never once stopped to think about what this lawsuit could and did to the team.

All was quiet in the fire station, an odd occurrence. Hen, Chim and Bobby were on a call, you were laying on the couch, reading some cookbook that Bobby left lying around. Eddie was down by the trucks, you weren't sure what he was doing but you could hear him grunting and the occasional thud. You just assumed he was fixing something or working out.

“Hey” Buck’s voice echoed through the station, it was quiet after that. He and Eddie began talking, you sat up and listened to their conversation. It was mostly Eddie shouting and Buck answering him but it seemed like they came to terms, if not back to normal than at least friendly ones, for the sake of the team.

The sound of your boots thudding with each step caught their attention, Buck walked halfway towards you and watched as you walked towards him.

“Y/n..” he looked at you, you walked past as if he wasn't there.

“Tell Bobby I'm not feeling well. I’ll be in tomorrow” you say to Eddie, he nods.

Buck turns, watching as you walk out the station, You could feel his eyes burning into you as you left.

A knock on the door, rolling over you see that it’s only 7:30 and you didn't have to be in until 9:30. “I’m coming” you shout, dragging yourself out of bed.

Who the hell keeps banging on the door?

“I said I'm com-” you shout once more as you open the door, “Cap ?” you yawn. “Can I come in ?” he steps inside anyways.

“Um why are you here? Not that I mind but like I'm still in pjs and I was sleeping” you yawn again, shuffling over to the bar stool by the counter. Bobby walks around to the other side and opens the fridge, he had brought you coffee too.

“I wanted to talk, but I brought coffee too because as you said, you were sleeping and I figured if I was going to disturb yourself, the least I could do was bring you some coffee” he smiled at you.

“Are you looking for something ?”

“Eggs, I'm making breakfast”

“For who ?”

“You, until someone else is here?” he looks over at you, you shake your head and take a sip of the coffee.

Talk about heaven in a cup.

“I heard Eddie and Buck are talking again” he turns on the stove, his back is facing you. “And?” “maybe you should talk to him too”

“Bobby, I'm not going to do that.”

“I’m not saying you need to be friends but at least, hear him out. I know what he did was wrong and he knows that too. If you don't want to do it for him, do it for the team, we can't keep walking on eggshells around you two”

“But I'm not asking y’all to do that”

“I know. You can't tell me that you don't feel the tension in the station. Everyone scared to mention Buck around you because they don't want to upset you and we don't mention you around him because he looks like he’s going to cry every time we say your name”

Sighing, your hand slides down your face. You were at a crossroads. One side was forgiving Buck and moving on and the other was not forgiving him and never talking again. Bobby’s voice pulled you from your thoughts.

“I’m telling you this not only as your captain and for the sake of the team but as your friend, because I care about you and I care about Buck. I’m tired of you two not speaking to each other, I just want us to be a family again.”

“Fine, no promises that anything good will come of it but if it means so much to you, I'll try.”

“Heard you wanted to talk ?” his shoes squished into the wet grass as he made his way over to you. You wanted to meet somewhere public, just to ensure that you don't strangle him with the nearly available cord.

“I did” you looked over your shoulder, buck walked around and sat beside you on the bench. “Why did you tell him ?” looking at the man across from you, you needed to know.

“He wanted to know about you guys, everything I could tell them, I did.”

“Everything ? So you told them about Bobby’s wife and kids? Or that Eddie was sleeping with his ex but she died ? Or maybe that Hen cheated on her wife with her ex girlfriend that just got out of jail,” you scoffed, “did you mention that Chim’s ex didn't want him but she got married and pregnant within months of breaking up with him?”

“I-i didn’t”

“So why’d you tell them about him ? You know I didn't tell anyone else, you knew it was hard for me to talk about and that wasn't even relevant to the stupid case!”

“Y/n.. I'm sorry”

“I don't want your stupid apology Buck, that isn't going to change what already happened.”

All you saw and felt was red, there was no way you could get over what he did. You loved the 118 like your family, there was no you were going to leave either nor would you expect him to leave either. Buck’s fingers drummed against his knee, he was staring off ahead at something.

“Bobby wants me to forgive you.” you broke the silence

“Do you want to forgive me?” he asked you, looking over in your direction. Your heart broke when you looked at Buck, he looked sad.

“No,” leaning back against the bench, he sighs and gets up. “But I don’t want things to stay this way” you look up at him.

“Neither do I”

“I can't forgive you buck, but I can try to move on”

“Things won’t be the same” his hand rests on top of yours,

“They never will be.”

taglist: @venusrosepetal @advicefromnixxxx @dralexreid @ssa-volturi @keenmarvellover

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