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snowball-doie · 2 months ago

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| pairing: Switch!Haechan x Switch!Mark x gn!Reader

| warnings: 18+ MDNI. Poly!ilichil. Blowjob. Sub-leaning Mark, Dom-leaning Haechan.

| wc: 2.8k

| aurora's note: not explicitly part of my poly!ilichil book (so no mention of reyna)

Movie night in the house was fairly chill. It wasn’t mandatory, and the film was always chosen at random by whoever pulled the highest number out of a baseball cap, so if someone didn’t care for the movie that the winner decided on, then they could go do whatever else they wanted. For the most part, though, the boys always stayed. Especially ever since their conflicting schedules prevented all eight of them from being in the same room at once. Taeyong was still in the military, Yuta was in Japan to promote his tour, and within the next few weeks Mark and Haechan would embark on the European leg of their tour while Jaehyun would enlist. A house filled with you and eight men was slowly losing its numbers. Soon it would just be you and three others… That was a shitty feeling… So the boys tried to make their time together count, even if it was only six out of eight of them in the house.

When you came home from work, the boys started pulling numbers out of a hat while you changed into pajamas. By the time you were changed and fit to relax for the night, Haechan was in the kitchen eating a bowl of ice cream, Mark disappeared, Jaehyun and Johnny were looking on an iPad at what new manga sets Johnny should buy, and Doyoung and Jungwoo were making themselves comfortable on the couch in their usual spots.

“Who won?” you asked, plopping down on the empty couch perpendicular to the wall with the big TV.

“You did,” Jungwoo replied. He tossed the TV remote at you, hardly giving you the chance to realize what he said and catch the remote before it could hit you in the nose.

“Where’s Mark?”

Johnny turned off his iPad. “Doing skin care upstairs. He said we can start watching without him… I think Chenle’s going to try to convince him to play some video games, too, so I wouldn’t count on him sticking around.” He reclined in the love seat next to Doyoung and Jungwoo’s couch while Jaehyun sprawled out in the empty space in the middle of the room, since they had to evacuate the coffee table in order to make room for everyone. “He’s exhausted and stressed from working on the last few songs for his album.”

“And Hyuck?”

“He’ll join us when he’s done eating.”

“He’s tired from rehearsals,” Jaehyun said quietly.

You started scrolling through Netflix for a movie you wanted to watch. “They’re both drained. I can’t believe the company’s already talking about another Dream tour next year.”

“Yeah, well, it was supposed to be us, but…” Doyoung stared at the back of Jaehyun’s bleached blonde head. “Anyhow.” He sighed.

Jungwoo shifted to get comfortable, cuddling up against Doyoung who laid back against the armrest of the couch so that Jungwoo could lay against his chest. “Can we watch an anime?”

“It’s not your night to pick,” Johnny warned.

“You were thinking the same thing!”

“It’s not my night to pick either.”

To appease the boys, however, you went to another streaming service to find The Boy and the Heron, a film which more than half of the room hadn’t seen yet, and it was anime to make them happy. The four content smiles in the room told you everything you needed to know. And as the movie, they all settled happily, their focus solely on the film, which left you smiling too as you got comfortable under a blanket.

Mark returned later like he promised. About fifteen minutes into the film, he made an appearance in his pajamas, his hair wet from showering, his face bare with all of his makeup and daytime skin care washed away in order to cover his face with his nighttime routine. You looked up at him as he entered the living room, hesitating for a moment while he considered his options for where to sit or lay down. There was some room next to Johnny on the love seat if he scooted over, Jungwoo and Doyoung took up the entire couch facing the TV head on, there was room next to you if you sat up, and if Jaehyun didn’t lay down in the very middle of the room there was space for Mark to lay down too. However, no one budged except for you. Mark sat on the floor with his back pressed against the couch you were on so that he was between your legs— Even though he could’ve sat on the couch with you if he wanted. It seemed he was more comfortable down there. Tiredly, Mark’s head fell against the inside of your left calf while both of you silently watched the movie, his hands gently massaging your ankles until you got the hint that he wanted to be played with too, so you started combing your fingers through his hair, gently scratching his scalp, massaging sore spots to help with any stress or headaches he had. Mark immediately melted.

“When do you need to call Chenle?” you whispered down to him, scratching behind his ear like he were a dog or a cat.

He shook his head slightly. “I told him I’m busy with you guys.”

Though he couldn’t see you, you were smiling behind him,scratching your fingers through his hair from his forehead down to his neck. He shivered then melted further into you. He was cute, like a pet, when he was tired and wanted to just fall asleep and forget about all of his worries.

But then in came the menace known as Haechan who was done with his ice cream and had cleaned his dishes before entering to sit and watch the second half of the film with you guys. Rather than taking a moment to decide where he was going to plop down, Haechan made his way directly over to you and Mark before he dropped to the ground and put his head on Mark’s lap and his feet on Jaehyun’s thighs— Both boys looked at Haechan with a questioning look before surrendering since there was no use in fighting against Haechan.

“Oh, fuck, Mark—” Haechan squirmed on the ground then flipped over and pushed himself up to look at the man sitting between your legs.

Mark hid his face against your leg. “Sorry.”

“What is it?” Jungwoo pried with his interest piqued, just like the rest of the group.

“He’s got a hard-on just from having his hair played with!”

You hesitated, to which Mark whined and nuzzled his face into you some more— Both to hide his embarrassment but also because he so desperately wanted you to keep going. But once he knew that everyone was looking at him instead of the movie, Mark started brushing Haechan off so that he could stand, while he muttered something about taking care of it and coming back soon. Both you and Haechan worked together to sit Mark back down after you silently shared a thought that it could be handled there. Afterall, you were responsible for getting him worked up… and Haechan was the one impacted by the distraction the most because his pillow was a bit hard.

Mark looked around panicked. “I’m sorry—”

You comforted him by running your hands through his hair again, then you leaned in to kiss his cheek lovingly, which put his guard down enough for Haechan to lay on his stomach between Mark’s legs. Mark was a bit distracted by your touches and kisses to care about the way Haechan was pulling Mark’s pajamas down just enough so that his erection sprung out.

Some of the boys sighed and shifted so that their focus was turned more on the TV rather than what was transpiring on the couch to their left. You, however, was focused on keeping Mark distracted some more. Haechan was being wicked, having his way by slowly rolling the tip of his thumb over Mark’s tip while he stared at you with innocent doe-eyes that nearly made you pull both him and Mark upstairs so that you could fuck them until they were too tired to keep their eyes open any longer. And Haechan got cocky once he saw that look in your eyes. He grinned while he began jerking Mark off at a slow pace, just to test the waters, get him worked up some more before the next part went underway.

His gaze glued to yours, and Mark’s eyes rolling to the back of his head, Haechan wrapped his lips around Mark’s tip.

“Shit, Hyuck—” Mark squirmed between your legs. “Your mouth’s fucking freezing.” Must’ve been from the ice cream.

But that didn’t deter Haechan. With his eyes closed, he lowered his mouth down all the way until Mark’s cock hit the back of his throat, causing Mark to whimper and roll his hips until Haechan put a hand on Mark’s hip to force him to stay still. As Hyuck started slowly bobbing his head, Mark let go. His moans and pleas for more were disrupting the movie, yet the others tried their best to stay focused, so you decided to help them out by giving Mark two of your fingers for him to suck on. He did so eagerly. The second he latched onto your fingers, his moans were muffled around them instead of covering up the sound of the movie, and as his tongue swirled and stuck between your fingers, you saw him still trying to fight against Haechan.

“Go slower,” Jaehyun instructed quietly without even looking over at them. “You want it to feel good, don’t rush it.”

Haechan rolled his eyes, as if to say to you, the only person who could see it, that he knew what he was doing, he didn’t need directions. However, Johnny caught it.

“Don’t roll your eyes at us.”

Haechan groaned sexually while slowing his movements and grinding his hips against the carpet. His hands moved from holding Mark’s base and hip to Mark’s muscular thighs so that he had something to ground himself on while he tried to maintain a slow and tortuous pace that had Mark panting against your fingers while mumbling more pleas for Haechan to go fast again, but he didn’t listen. Unfortunate side effects of both of them being switches. On the off chance the two of them wanted to play together and Haechan was the one in the Dominant mood, there was nothing Mark could say or do to have the younger man listen listen to him. Go faster only ever encouraged Haechan to continue going slow. Touch my balls made Haechan avoid them. Let me cum urged Haechan to pull away completely.

And that was exactly what happened.

When Mark popped your fingers out of his mouth suddenly to moan out, “Please let me cum,” Haechan pulled his mouth away. Johnny smirked from his comfortable spot on the opposite side of the living room. Haechan, though seemingly inclined to torture Mark further, didn’t have much energy in him to edge Mark all night, so he went back to licking around Mark’s tip slowly, cleaning up the mess of pre-cum mixed with saliva.

“Please,” Mark croaked, tilting his head up to look at you. The boys weren’t going to save him because they were too invested in the film, but you could take pity on him— Especially in the state he was in. He was so tired… so overwhelmed with the Dream tour, his solo album, the upcoming 127 concert in January, and all the projects on his plate the following year. “Please…” That got you.

Though you hardly had any sway over Haechan’s Dominant side— At least not like Johnny, Yuta, and Jaehyun did— you reached over Mark’s shoulder to put your free hand on the back of Haechan’s head, pushing him down, watching as he took every inch of Mark into his mouth again before you told him quietly to ignore Jaehyun’s instructions. All he needed to do was make Mark feel good, then both of them could rest. That was what they wanted, right? To relax, enjoy everyone's company, and not worry about a thing? You would do that for him if he was a good boy and made Mark cum.

Haechan took the lead again, rapidly getting Mark off, even bringing one of his hands up to jerk off Mark’s base and gently massage his balls. Mark’s hands found your ankles which he grabbed onto for dear life. He was so happy. He was back to moaning with relief and excitement, his orgasm building quickly, his hips bucking around again since there was no more fight from Haechan to stop him.

“Please, please, please, can I cum?” he begged desperately, his nails digging into your skin.

Your touch drifted from Haecha’s head to Mark’s chin so that you could hold him steady while pressing him against the couch and tilting his head up again so that you could see his face when you whispered those magic words, “You can cum.”

Mark’s face twisted with pleasure as he started cumming down Haechan’s throat. Jungwoo’s attention was caught slightly, his own hips rolling around in the hopes for Doyoung to start giving him some kind of relief, but he was ignored for the sake of the climax of the movie that had the rest of the boys involved.

Haechan’s own moans vibrated against Mark. He whined and jolted, the last of his high passing and turning into a blissful touch of overstimulation that stole Mark’s breath. Haechan was grinning. Mouth full of cock, cum leaking out, his cheeks red and eyes glazed over with lust. Haechan looked beautiful. Perfect, even.

“Okay, okay, don’t be mean,” you said, releasing Mark’s chin and reaching to tap Haechan’s cheek.

On his way up, Haechan licked up all of the cum that escaped his mouth, cleaning up every bit of the mess he made since Mark had already showered, and both of you could see how spent he was, his entire body and mind already giving into his exhaustion.

“Why don’t you get cleaned up and head to bed early?”

Mark slumped his back against the couch and rested his cheek on your knee. “Give me a bit.”

Haechan put Mark’s pants on properly then rolled over to lay down his head on Mark’s lap as he had intentionally meant to. Now he was more comfortable.

By the end of the movie, Mark and Haechan were asleep at your feet, the two of them quietly snoring, Mark’s hands still glued to your ankles so that you couldn’t escape without waking him. Jaehyun was mindlessly massaging Haechan’s feet that were on his stomach when he made a comment about how maybe they should use Haechan to wear the two of them out more often— Specifically whenever Haechan would throw a hissy fit about being sent to bed early after working overtime at the office for a couple of days in a row. Johnny laughed and turned off the TV. Jungwoo tiredly sat up and began dragging a tired Doyoung upstairs with him, but it seemed that rather than cuddling and sleeping, Jungwoo had half a mind of getting rid of his erection too with Doyoung’s help upstairs.

“What do I do about this?” You gestured to how Mark had you trapped.

Johnny stood from the love seat. “Sure you can’t sleep like that?” he joked. When you rolled your eyes, he and Jaehyun came to your rescue. Slowly, Johnny woke up Mark while Jaehyun woke up Haechan. Both of them whined complaints when they opened their eyes. “Come on, you’ll be more comfortable upstairs.” Jaehyun lifted Hyuck to his feet first before corralling him upstairs, then Johnny leaned over to pull Mark up to his feet, messing with his hair with a giggle. “Go on.”

Tiredly, Mark trudged up the stairs to his room.

“Thanks,” you said when Johnny helped you to your feet.

“Thanks for compromising on a movie tonight.”

“Well, I didn’t pay attention for most of it anyhow.”

Johnny chuckled, and with his hand in yours, he began leading you upstairs. “At least you had fun, right?” When you nodded, he smiled. “You should sleep in their bed tonight, since they’re leaving for tour soon.”

Mark wobbled into Haechan’s bedroom. You heard some annoyed whispering back and forth, followed by the thump of a body collapsing on a mattress. Seemed they were arguing about whether or not Mark had permission to sleep in there. It also seemed it didn’t matter because he passed out.

“Night, Johnny.”

“Night, love.”

As he dove into his room, you walked into Haechan’s to find both him and Mark sprawled out completely, limbs tangled together, drool already pooling out of Mark’s mouth. They were such idiots. But they were your idiots. So you climbed into bed with them, trying your best to make room for yourself while they groaned about not wanting to be woken up again.

“Fuck off,” you groaned as Haechan accidentally elbowed your ribs.

“You first.”

“Both of you shut up,” Mark mumbled into his pillow.

“Aye, aye, captain,” Haechan teased, still half asleep.

You grinned to yourself. You were going to miss them a lot while they’d be gone on tour again…

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nocturniashifter · 2 months ago

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What makes your dr self so attractive? | PICK A PILE

₊˚๑ How to choose: Close your eyes, take a deep breath and choose the image that caught your attention. ₊˚๑ Disclaimer: All readings are done for entertainment only, don't use my readings as a replacement for legitimate advice. This is a general reading, so take what resonates and leave what doesn't.

Hello, my angels! How long, right? Well, I'm back with another PAP that just came out of the oven. Thank you for the 400 followers 😔🫶. Ready to discover what makes your dr self so attractive? ;)

⊹ ࣪ ˖ masterlist | book a reading with me | tips

⊹ ꒱ PILE ONE ᨦ ♡

"Wow, y/n is just so charming; you can’t help but want to be around them!"

"Every time y/n talks, it’s like the whole room stops to listen!"

"Y/n has that friendly smile that just makes everyone feel at home; it’s hard not to like them!"

Hey, pile one! First off, let me just say that your beauty in your DR is out of this world – so if you scripted that, it’s definitely doing its thing! You’ve got this striking, almost intimidating presence, whether it’s your looks or the way you carry yourself. Either way, it makes you super attractive to a lot of people in your desired reality. Tons of people have a crush on you – especially if you’re a public figure, like an artist, but even if you’re not, the same applies. You’ve got people who would literally be happy with just a glance or a touch, hoping for any little sign of affection from you. It’s like you’ve got a fan club of simps just waiting for your attention, lol. Seriously, people would crawl at your feet, but don’t let it go to your head, LMAO. That said, be careful, because some of these people might be a bit too obsessed and wouldn’t take rejection lightly – if that worries you, I’d definitely recommend scripting affirmations for safety and protection, especially if you’re in the public eye.

People also think everything you touch turns to gold. They see you as this super successful person who just excels at whatever you set your mind to. You’ve definitely racked up a bunch of wins and achievements in your DR, and that only adds to the image people have of you as someone who thrives. Your voice? People find it incredibly attractive – especially if you’re a singer in your DR. You’ve got that kind of presence where the moment you walk into a room, time seems to stop and everything just brightens up, and all eyes are on you.

What really makes you even more attractive is the fact that you’ve been through so much in life, but you’ve come out on top. Your whole life has been a battle for your dreams, and the fact that you never gave up is something people seriously admire about you. On top of that, you’re great company – you make people feel comfortable and at home when they’re around you, which just adds to your appeal.

But here’s the thing, pile one: you’ve probably broken a lot of hearts lmao. You’re like that unattainable halfway crush that a lot of people are into, but you’re just not reciprocating their feelings, lol. People are constantly trying to be friends with you, and it seems like you even start trends without realizing it. You're definitely leaving your mark wherever you go.

⊹ ꒱ PILE TWO ᨦ ♡

"Y/n has this cool, badass energy that just draws people in; it’s impossible to ignore!"

"Honestly, y/n’s style is on another level; it really shows off their strong personality."

"Y/n isn’t afraid to stand up for what they believe in, and that just makes them even more attractive."

Hello, pile two! Let me start by saying that what makes you so insanely attractive in your desired reality is your aura. You’ve got this powerful, badass vibe that screams, “I don’t give a fuck,” and it’s honestly magnetic. A lot of you in this pile are shifting to more intense realities, maybe an anime or one that’s action-packed/dangerous, and your energy fits perfectly. You come off as someone who’s fearless, and that combined with your style, really makes you stand out – your fashion sense is on point, and it doesn’t just reflect how badass you are, but also how unique and authentic you are. People are drawn to you because you don’t try to fit in; you’re unapologetically yourself, and that confidence is incredibly attractive. You radiate this commanding presence that makes people stop in their tracks. There’s something about you that captivates those around you, like they can’t help but be intrigued by you. People are definitely hypnotized by your vibe – whether it’s your intense stare, your boldness, or just the way you carry yourself like you’ve seen and conquered it all. It’s almost as if the world bends to your will, and trust me, people notice that.

Even though you have this tough, badass exterior, there’s more to you. People also see you as someone who is selfless and would do anything for the greater good – this especially applies if you’re shifting to a reality where you’re a hero or someone who fights battles. You stand for justice, fairness, and equality, and that moral compass of yours only adds to your attractiveness. You have this strong desire to make life better for not only yourself but for the people around you, and that determination is something others admire deeply.

For those who are lucky enough to be close to you, there’s this undeniable sense of loyalty you exude. You’ve got that “I’m all in for you, no matter what” energy, and it’s clear to your inner circle that you would go to extreme lengths for the people you love. You’d take a bullet for them, and they know it. That kind of dedication makes you stand out in a world where loyalty can be hard to find. However, with that loyalty also comes your overthinking nature. You sometimes get anxious and worry too much about things going wrong in your relationships, but that just shows how much you care.

On the flip side, you don’t tolerate any bullshit. If someone’s toxic, you don’t hesitate to cut them off, you have no time or patience for people who try to drag you down, and you’re not afraid to remove yourself from harmful situations, no matter how tough it is. You always find a way out, and that resilience is something people admire about you. It’s like you’re unstoppable, and that only adds to the mystery and allure you bring into every space you enter.

⊹ ꒱ PILE THREE ᨦ ♡

"Every time y/n walks into a room, it’s like they own the place; they really know how to grab attention!"

"I mean, with all that charm and confidence, it’s no wonder everyone is trying to get close to y/n!"

"Y/n just has this way of putting themselves first and cutting out the drama; it’s seriously appealing!"

Hey, pile three! Let’s dive into what makes you incredibly attractive in your desired reality. When you walk into a room, heads turn, and it’s as if the world stops for a moment – people can’t help but admire you. You command attention wherever you go, and your popularity is through the roof. Just like in the other piles, you have this knack for getting what you want, especially when it comes to material things – money is not an issue for you, so you can pretty much buy anything your heart desires. It’s as if the world is at your feet, and that undeniable confidence only amplifies your allure.

However, with great popularity, fame, and wealth, there are those who might approach you out of pure interest or ulterior motives. It’s essential to stay vigilant because not everyone has your best interests at heart. Some people may want to be around you just to use you or bask in your glow, so it’s vital to discern who your true friends are. Just like in pile one, many people desire you, but you come across as somewhat unattainable, which only fuels their admiration and frustration when they realize you won’t reciprocate their feelings. You’ve got this vibe that screams, “Someone is going to be heartbroken today, but it won’t be me!” because you know how to prioritize yourself above all else.

Your badass energy comes from everything you’ve been through; you’ve learned to fight and emerged stronger. You absolutely do not tolerate any bullshit, especially in relationships. If someone isn’t treating you right, you won’t hesitate to cut them off. This attitude extends beyond romantic partnerships; it applies to every aspect of your life. You’ve learned your worth and have no problem walking away from toxic situations or people who don’t respect you. For you, life is about enjoying every moment, and you live it to the fullest. If you were to end a relationship, you’d be out celebrating while your ex sits at home, missing you – that’s just the energy you exude – free and unapologetic. You’ve literally built your own empire, which is incredibly attractive. Each challenge you’ve faced has only added to your strength and resilience, and people are drawn to that. Interestingly, you look especially stunning when you wear red; it highlights your confidence and adds to that fierce energy you naturally possess.

If you have a s/o in your desired reality, they absolutely adore you and feel incredibly lucky to call you theirs. They see you as irresistible and find it hard to contain their excitement when they’re around you. Your presence lights up their day, and they think about you constantly, eagerly awaiting those moments together. Expect plenty of passionate encounters because they’ll make it clear that they love you deeply, wanting to show you just how much you mean to them. In their eyes, no one could ever love you as profoundly as they do, and they are determined to prove it every chance they get 😏.

That was it, guys! I really hope you liked it. See you next time! ♡

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runnning-outof-time · 10 months ago

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Another little request, please don't mind the spam if you don't feel inspired c: <3 "I didn't get your name" + Arthur please!

Thanks so much for sending some extra Arthur in, Shark @call-sign-shark ! I greatly appreciate it! I know I said it before, but it was fun to end this celebration off by showing some love to him…and I wouldn’t be writing for Arthur Shelby if I didn’t add some of his violent self into one of these stories. That’s where I went with this one…trust me, it makes sense…….I think. I hope you like it! Enjoy! :)

Oh and this is the last blurb of this celebration! Thank you to all who read these!! I can’t believe I’ve finally finished writing them!

I’D LOVE TO KNOW WHAT YOU THINK! YOUR COMMENTS & REBLOGS HELP ME WRITE!

Part of my 3.5k Celebration — find more stories here!

What A Way to Meet Your Boss

Arthur Shelby x Reader

Warnings: language, series typical violence, use of derogatory name

Word Count: around 1k (I’m too lazy to find the count)

Summary: (Y/N) meets one of her bosses in a rather…unconventional way. Or maybe it’s very conventional considering the company she works for.

(Y/N) had just finished her tasks for the evening. She made sure that all of her materials were put in places where she could quickly find them tomorrow before grabbing her coat and purse. She exited the Shelby Company Limited building then, ready to get home and relax.

But of course, Birmingham had different plans for her.

“Women as pretty as you shouldn’t be walking alone at night,” a man’s voice came from the darkness of the alleyway she’d just passed. (Y/N) willed her feet to keep walking, knowing that things would turn bad if she stopped and entertained this man. Maybe he’d give up.

But it didn’t pan out that way.

Shoes then scuffed on the concrete as his quick steps were heard behind her. “I’m fuckin’ talkin’ to you, bitch,” he sneered. (Y/N) quickened her pace. “Fuckin’ get back here!” His angered words were accompanied by a rough hand, and (Y/N) was left defenceless as the man effortlessly pulled her back and into his grips. Her eyes widened as the man’s forearm came into contact with her throat. “Gonna make you pay for ignoring me,” he seethed, his mouth right against her ear. “How about you make it easy for yourself?”

The man couldn’t follow through on what he was going to do because the next thing he knew, he was getting the wind knocked out of him; his arms falling slack from (Y/N)’s frame. She didn’t even stop to look and see what had happened, instead moving as fast as she could to get away from the altercation just as it sounded like someone started to deliver a barrage of punches onto her assailant.

It didn’t take (Y/N) long to notice that there wasn’t even much of a fight when she did finally turn around. The man who had his arm wrapped around her neck seconds ago was now curled into a ball on the ground as he tried to stop the madman that had come to her rescue. Even she flinched as the second man landed one more vicious punch before standing tall over the beaten man.

“Please, please…please be done,” the man pleaded, his voice and body shaking.

“You should know better than to fuck with the Peaky Blinders,” the man standing above him bellowed, his voice one that (Y/N) was familiar with, but couldn’t quite put the name to.

“I…I didn’t know that she was a Peaky woman, Mr. Shelby,” the man made an excuse, still pleading for his life. He couldn’t tell if the animal of a man standing above him was finished or not. Hell, he should have known better than to choose to hang around this part of town. Who would have known there would have been a Shelby in the area though, let alone the worst out there all?

“Peaky woman or not, you lay another fucking finger on any woman and I’ll fucking cut them off. You understand me?” the Shelby man threatened.

“Yes, yes,” the man on the ground was nodding his head profusely within seconds of hearing the other’s threats…which should really be considered promises.

“Now get the fuck outta here before I decide to do it now.” That was all the man needed to hear to scramble to his feet and hurry away from the area. It was evident in his limp that he’d been beaten pretty badly, but that didn’t stop him from running as fast as he could. The man left behind couldn’t help but chuckle as he watched him leave. When he’d finally turned a corner and was out of sight, the man turned to (Y/N). “You alright?” he asked, making his way over to her then.

“Yeah,” she answered with an exhaled breath. “You came before he could do anything. Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me,” he brushed her gratitude off, shaking his head slightly. His peaked cap had been returned to his head and was now pulled down, shielding his eyes from her, but she couldn’t miss his prominent mustache. “I could walk you home if you want,” he offered.

“I live a block away,” she answered, a polite smile present on her face.

“Safe travels,” he nodded to her, starting to turn back towards the company building the she’d just left.

“I didn’t get your name,” she quickly called after him, the words leaving her mouth before she could think better of them. She knew he was a Shelby man, but she didn’t know which Shelby man he was.

Her voice made the man stop and turn back to face her. “Arthur Shelby,” he answered simply, lifting his head enough for her to catch a glimpse his full features as they were illuminated by the streetlight.

“Thank you, Mr. Shelby,” she thanked him again, sending a grateful smile his way.

“Happy to have ya workin’ for us, love,” he said, sending a closed mouth smile her way before turning again so that he could walk back to the building she’d left a short while ago.

(Y/N) watched him enter the building before she turned and hurried the rest of her way home. She let out a sigh of relief once she was behind her locked door. What a way to meet your boss, she thought to herself, shaking her head as she headed to her bedroom. What a way indeed.

*tags in reblog so that hopefully they get sent out

MASTERLIST

#arthur shelby #arthur shelby x reader #arthur shelby x y/n #arthur shelby x you #arthur shelby blurb #arthur shelby imagine #arthur shelby fanfic #arthur shelby fanfiction #peaky blinders #peaky blinders x reader #peaky blinders x y/n #peaky blinders x you #peaky blinders blurb #peaky blinders imagine #peaky blinders fanfiction #peaky blinders fanfic #fanfiction #fanfic #k’s 3.5k celebration

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slaymitchabernathy · 5 months ago

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Cold & Calculated

Coriolanus POV

There’s a strange silence that sits between them during the ride home. Coriolanus almost feels uncomfortable sitting next to his wife. She doesn’t say anything, not a single word but that’s nothing new, Soarynn’s always been quiet.

But something is different.

He glances down at his wife who’s looking out the car window at the passing Capitol streets, she looks nice tonight, she looks pretty. His heart had skipped a beat when she showed up at the office earlier this evening. Due to some scheduling issues, Coriolanus had Soarynn come to meet him at the office so they wouldn’t be late for the company dinner.

Festus whisked her away for a brief tour but it was rather adorable how quickly she returned to him. Coriolanus assumes she finds some semblance of safety in him, or at least his presence. Coriolanus is a man of authority and respect, no one would dare mess with him or his wife for that matter.

“Quite a fruitful night,” he finally says, breaking the tension.

Soarynn simply hums without sparing him a glance, “Quite.”

His eyes travel across her collarbones and slender shoulders. They didn’t have sex last night, not after Sejanus mentally drained him for the entire day but tonight is the perfect night. The perfect way to end a long day at work.

“Perhaps it’ll have a fruitful ending,” he suggests, always trying to give Soarynn a bit of a heads-up before partaking in such sexual encounters. Soarynn brushes her hair behind her ears, “If that is what you wish.”

Now he’s upset. He’s upset because it almost sounds as if he’s forcing her, which is something he’d never do. If Soarynn decided that tomorrow she never wanted to have sex with him again then that would be the end of it but he sincerely hopes it’ll never come to that. Not when it’s the only time he can truly hold her, touch her, feel her.

But she’s acting like this all is one-sided. And he refuses to be on the losing side. The desperate side.

He clears his throat, “It is.”

He’s the man of the house, he doesn’t need to be doubting himself or his authority.

Neither of them says another word as the car pulls up to their apartment building. Soarynn takes his hand as she exits the car but immediately drops it once they're in the elevator. Coriolanus refrains from crying out like a wounded animal at the loss of contact because it's not the end of the world. But it feels like it.

Maybe she's mad at him, although Coriolanus doesn't think that he's ever seen Soarynn be mad a day in her life. She's gotten upset of course, but over little things like her favorite bakery being closed or a boutique not having a dress in her size. But Soarynn is not someone who's quick to anger. He, on the other hand, can get quite angry when pushed too far.

When the elevator doors open and Soarynn goes to step out, his hand grabs her wrist, pulling her back inside. Soarynn looks up at him with wide eyes, with a hint of fear behind them. Coriolanus doesn't like that. He wants her to respect him, yes, to be attentive and well mannered but he never wants her to fear him.

Is this what it's come to? Is this what his cold and calculated attitude towards her has gotten him?

"Are you alright?" He asks, feeling somewhat stupid for asking such a vague and general question, "I mean, have I done something to upset you? Or has someone hurt you?" Coriolanus can feel his entire body tensing at the idea of someone laying a hand on Soarynn, forcing themselves onto her, scaring her.

He'd become the Capitol's first murderer, that's for certain.

Soarynn bites her lip for a moment before answering him, "No, no one's hurt me, and you haven't done anything to upset me. I'm just tired." Coriolanus sees right through that lie because as much as she tries to deny it, Soarynn is a terrible liar. At least to him, she is. Her father probably agrees with him that it's quite easy to see through any of Soarynn's small, insignificant lies. She rarely ever lies but she's done it enough for him to notice the slight tells that give her away.

How she always bites her lip, fiddles with the rings on her fingers, sways side to side, and avoids eye contact if possible. She's lied about small things in the past, whether or not she picked up his clothes from the tailor, if she remembered to attend some event, things like that.

She's lying right now.

His grip on her wrist slightly tightens as he leans down until he's at eye level with his wife, "Do you remember what I asked of you the day we got married?" Their wedding had been a wonderful blur but he remembers clear as day what he'd asked her to do once they made it down the aisle and were out of earshot from all of their guests.

"Don't ever lie to me, things will be much easier between us as long as we're honest with one another."

Soarynn swallows and nods her head, "You asked me to never lie to you." He tilts his head and looks her up and down, his pretty little wife who's done such a good job at pleasing him so far. "Trust is...important," he tells her slowly.

"Trust is everything to me," Soarynn whispers, "but I don't think you trust me Coriolanus."

Soarynn POV

Not a sound can be heard in the penthouse.

Coriolanus is at work and Soarynn is at home, overthinking.

There are a million other things she could be doing right now. Cleaning her makeup brushes, clearing out her wardrobe, running errands, and painting. But her conversation with Coriolanus from a few days ago keeps repeating in her mind. It had been a rather tense conversation between them, a conversation that ended in Coriolanus suggesting that they both just go to bed since the drinks from dinner had clearly gotten to them.

Funny how he was able to lie to himself about that when moments before he was reminding her to be truthful with him. And she was! She is! Soarynn doesn't really see any point in lying to her husband, not when he's been nothing but good to her. Should he be controlling or abusive then she could see a reason to lie but he's not. Coriolanus is a good husband. But he's not a very good companion.

Soarynn has seen her friends with their own husbands, seen how they share little inside jokes and knowing glances. She and Coriolanus don't share any of those. They only share polite table talk with a side of expected sex.

So when the phone rings, Soarynn nearly jumps off the sofa. Maybe it's the people calling from the gallery, she thinks to herself as she pushes herself from the sofa, making her way down the hall to where the phone is sitting on a small table.

"Snow residence, to whom am I speaking with?"

"Soarynn?" It's Coriolanus.

"Coriolanus, is everything alright?"

For a moment she worries something might have happened to his parents but he's quick to soothe her thoughts, "Perfectly fine. Well, not entirely fine. I need you to go into my study and open the top drawer in my desk, it has several files inside of it. I need you to bring me the red file, labeled, 'Quarterly Sales Meeting.' I forgot to grab it this morning and just remembered it."

Soarynn finds herself nodding along to her husband's instructions, especially since she knows how important the quarterly meetings are to him and his colleagues. He's been working nonstop the past month and the dinner they recently attended was a way of thanking everyone for their hard work.

"I'll bring it to you right away," she assures him and she hears him let out a small sigh of relief. "Thank you, darling, I'll see you soon." After a swift goodbye, Soarynn hangs up the phone and ventures into her husband's study. She's never been in here alone, and she's never seen the entire study since she usually lingers in its doorway.

She easily finds the file he was describing in the top drawer of his desk and quickly glances over his desktop for a moment when her eyes land on a framed photograph. She blinks once, twice before coming to the realization that it's her in the photograph.

She looks much younger than she is now, about eighteen when she first started seeing Coriolanus. It's a candid shot of her smiling down at Petunia in her arms, standing in the backyard of her childhood home. She remembers that day, how Coriolanus had come over and she proudly showed him her new kitten. Coriolanus had brought his camera with him but she never saw him taking that photo of her.

But he did, and here it is. Does he look at it often? How long has he had this photo framed? Does he have other photos of her?

Coriolanus is a masculine man through and through and before she moved in, his penthouse lacked a feminine touch. Or a sentimental touch in general.

But Soarynn can't linger long, not with Coriolanus waiting on her so she shuts the drawer and leaves the study. Thankfully their car is waiting outside for her and she's greeted by their driver, "Where to Mrs. Snow?" Soarynn gives him a polite smile, "My husband's office please."

The drive is short and yet Soarynn still finds time to worry about her current relationship with Coriolanus. It feels strained and if they can't trust one another, then what's the point? The point was to marry for convenience, to act as if this marriage was a business agreement, and yet Soarynn finds herself wishing it was more than that so maybe that's her issue.

Either way, whether Coriolanus loves her or not, it won't hinder her from being a good wife.

Coriolanus POV

Coriolanus drums his fingers against his wooden desk as he waits for Soarynn to arrive. He'd left an important file at home and instead of having his secretary fetch it, he had asked Soarynn to bring it to him.

He was feeling rather impatient although he didn't know if he was impatiently awaiting the arrival of the file or his wife.

He likes to think he’s waiting for the file but he knows that’s a lie. He’s eager to see Soarynn, to be in her gentle, feminine presence for a few moments before she goes back home to make sure dinner is being properly prepared for them.

Then he’ll go home, and hang up his coat in the hall closet before she greets him with a kiss on the lips and her dainty fingers wrap around the handle of his briefcase. He’ll let her take it and set it down so that he can freshen up in their bathroom before joining her at the dining table.

Without children or guests, their dinners can be very quiet, neither of them speaking of much except surface-level topics. She’ll ask him how his day at work went and he’ll ask her how her friends are doing and if she did any shopping.

They might have sex. But it all depends on how he’s feeling.

They had sex the other night, after the company dinner. It wasn’t bad, but it wasn’t great. Despite her lack of experience, Soarynn can be quite the pleasant and sensual creature in bed. The sounds she makes, the way her body moves, and the way her eyes roll back are what Coriolanus craves on a somewhat daily basis.

And the conversations they have afterward always seem to let him catch a better glimpse of who Soarynn truly is. When she’s too tired and overstimulated, she lets her walls down and he does the same.

Rare moments like that should be appreciated more than they are, but he's never been too good at opening up. During the months of the two of them dating, Coriolanus rarely went beneath the surface of his persona. He knew what Soarynn needed, a good husband who took care of her and her needs. How could he be a good husband if he was constantly vulnerable in front of her?

So after their fifth date, he vowed to himself that he'd never let her see that hidden side of him if he could help it. The side that longed to hold her for longer periods of time, and bathe with her while playing with her hair. It's better this way, at least that's what he tells himself. Letting her catch glimpses of the real him after sex is much better than being seen as weak.

It's best to be cold and calculated.

Soarynn POV

꧁ 6 Months Ago ꧂

It's a strange feeling to move into a room that is not your own. Soarynn feels like she's invading her husband's privacy as she unpacks her bags. Her husband, a new term that she is still not familiar with. She got married today, she's no longer a Nightingale.

Soarynn Snow.

Her hands are shaking while she puts her clothes into the dresser drawers and she does her best to still them, to calm her nerves. But she can't, not when she knows what will take place in a few minutes. She and Coriolanus have shared a few heated kisses, but they've never gone farther than that to honor tradition.

But Soarynn is terribly nervous, even dressed in expensive white lingerie. Her friends said it would make her feel more confident and more secure in herself, and yet she feels the exact opposite. What if he's not impressed with her? Coriolanus certainly isn't a virgin and Soarynn worries that he might be put off by her inexperience.

It's too late to turn back now.

She sighs and brushes her hair behind her ears, she'd rather just go to bed considering what a long day it's been for the both of them. Their wedding was lovely but tiring as she was expected to talk to all their guests. Soarynn doesn't mind the social chatter for the most part, so long as she can relax in her bedroom afterward. But this is her bedroom now, a room that she will share with a man.

Soarynn's curiosity gets the best of her and she pulls open the top drawer of the dresser and finds several pairs of socks that belong to her now husband, all the same color and style. Coriolanus from what she's seen, is a man who values routine and order, rarely ever straying from what he knows and trusts.

She just hopes that he'll come to know and trust her as time passes.

Soarynn hears the sound of heavy footsteps making their way towards their bedroom and she closes her trunk of belongings. She can put those away later. She glances at the large bed and her fingers graze over the white sheets. They might be stained sooner rather than later. Soarynn doesn't know why she's so nervous about the bleeding part of losing her virginity. She knows that it's supposedly a sign of one's virginity being taken but what if it doesn't happen to her? Then what would Coriolanus think?

Soarynn sits on the edge of the bed, her feet dangling off the edge and she grabs a handful of the lacy dress she's wearing over her lingerie. The dress itself is also lingerie, with intricate lace patterns sewn along the silk fabric. Hopefully, she meets his expectations.

The doors open revealing Coriolanus and her heart skips a beat. He looks so handsome, so regal and important even in the late, late hours of the night. It's past midnight but that's never stopped a man from taking what's his.

He offers her a small smile before closing the doors behind him and Soarynn manages to return his smile with one of her own. "You look pretty," he tells her as he walks towards her. Soarynn lets go of her dress and swallows, "Thank you."

She expects him to pounce on her but instead, he turns to the dresser where a small variety of alcohol sits on top of it along with several small glasses. She watches Coriolanus grab a bottle of something before twisting the cap off and pouring himself two glasses. It's a practiced ease she witnesses from him as if he's done this a thousand times, pouring himself a drink before bed to wind down.

"Quite the day," he muses to which Soarynn nods, "Yes, today was quite eventful." Coriolanus takes a sip of his drink and lets out a content sigh, "The alcohol selection was perfect, much better than the one at Festus and Persephone's wedding." Soarynn chuckles and shakes her head at her husband's words, "That's because you think you know what's best when it comes to alcohol."

Coriolanus shoots her a mischievous smile and nods, "I do know what's best when it comes to alcohol. If I weren't a businessman, I'd be a bartender." It's a funny thing to picture, Coriolanus working such a lower-class job but Soarynn strangely enough thinks that he'd be quite happy with it, money aside.

"You'd certainly be a crowd favorite," Soarynn agrees. Coriolanus grabs the other glass and offers it to her and Soarynn is unable to hide her surprised expression. She prefers wine over whatever he's drinking but he insists on her taking the glass, "To take the edge off," he explains, "you look like you'll need it."

Well, she can't argue with that.

Soarynn gives him a grateful smile before taking the glass and sipping whatever the glass contains. Whatever it is is disgusting and Soarynn pulls a disturbed look which causes Coriolanus to laugh, "Not a fan of whiskey hmm?" Soarynn shakes her head and offers it back to him, "I'm not really a fan of alcohol period, let alone whiskey."

Coriolanus hums and takes the glass back from her, throwing it back in one sip. It amazes Soarynn how much he can eat and drink, but she's learned that men are never truly satisfied. Speaking of satisfied....they still have to have sex, which means kissing, touching, and getting naked. Oh, why does she have to be so innocent?

Soarynn watches her husband drink from the other glass he poured, noticing the way his throat bobs when he swallows and how chiseled his jawline really is. Coriolanus Snow is devilishly handsome in Soarynn's opinion, it truly amazes her that she's his wife now, that she bears his last name for the world to see.

When he's finally finished he sets the glass down and finally takes a good look at her. To say she's been preparing for this moment would be an understatement. Over the past week, Soarynn has been waxed, primped, and primed for her wedding night. This morning she took a long bath and made sure her body was smooth and flawless.

Coriolanus tears his gaze away and begins unbuttoning his shirt. He took off his shoes and suit jacket the moment they got home, seemingly sick of wearing the clothes after a good twelve hours. Soarynn nervously fidgets as he bears his chest to her, showing off his toned physique. Soarynn's only seen him shirtless a handful of times before their marriage, but she has a feeling that she'll be seeing a lot of this in the near future.

He notices her staring and smirks, "Like what you see?" Soarynn blushes but she nods, remembering what he said to her earlier today, telling her to always be honest with him.

"Yes," she whispers, pressing her legs together. She'd be lying if she said she wasn't scared, mostly of the pain but the act of sex itself is terrifying to Soarynn who's still so young, especially compared to Coriolanus who's six years older than she is.

Coriolanus finally takes a step towards her and his hand comes out to cup her face, he does it so gently, as if he truly cares for her and Soarynn hopes he does, that her cares about her and how she feels. She's heard many tales about women marrying men who only care for their own pleasure. And Coriolanus has been so attentive so far, but that all could change right now, he could reveal his true colors.

But Coriolanus Snow seems like a good man.

Soarynn looks up at him, into his piercing blue eyes and she's overwhelmed with emotions to the point where she feels a single tear escaping her grasp and rolling down her cheek. The expression on his face changes from one of confidence to one of concern. Soarynn wipes the tear away and sniffles, "I'm sorry. I...I don't mean to be emotional, not on a night like this."

His thumb gently brushes over her cheek and Soarynn finds herself leaning into his touch, "I won't fault you for being nervous," Coriolanus gently tells her, "especially since it's your first time. Is it me that you're scared of?" Soarynn's eyes widen at his question because she really can't see herself ever being scared of Coriolanus. Not when she's seen glimmers of how kind he can be, how he laughs when playing with Petunia, or carries his mother's shopping bags for her.

No, Soarynn could never be scared of Coriolanus.

"No," she quickly assures him, "I'm just scared of the pain," she whispers the last part. His face contorts to a rather unsure expression and Soarynn highly doubts that Coriolanus has ever been tasked with such a needy partner like her before, one that requires constant reassurance. He sighs as he looks down at her with a fond look in his eyes, "I can't promise that it won't hurt, I'd be surprised if it didn't hurt. But it won't last long, and we'll go slow," he tells her and Soarynn slightly relaxes after hearing those words.

The smirk returns to his face as he adds, "Besides, I think you'll find sex to be rather enjoyable after getting over the first time." Soarynn doesn't even want to think about the second time, not when they've yet to get the first time over with but she nods all the same, "Alright, I trust you."

That seems to be the green light for Coriolanus who's quick to lean down and finally capture her lips in a passionate, heated kiss to which Soarynn eagerly responds. Coriolanus is an excellent kisser and Soarynn's kissed him enough to feel confident in herself. Their first kiss had been rather adorable but she was a flustered mess afterward and Coriolanus teased her endlessly about it until she finally gathered up the courage to be the one to initiate the kisses they shared.

Still, Coriolanus is a man who thrives with control and is a dominant man so he's been the one to initiate their kisses for the most part. Soarynn doesn't mind it in the slightest, not when she's always been so pliant and submissive all things considered.

Her hands come to rest on his biceps and she finally feels how toned and strong Coriolanus is. He's mentioned his fitness regimen before but Soarynn's never been able to bear witness to his strength before. He feels as if he could rip her in half if he wanted to.

His hands travel down to her waist, squeezing it while he deepens the kiss and his tongue explores her mouth. Soarynn whimpers when he tugs on her bottom lip with his teeth and then lets out a squeal when he picks her up by her waist and tosses her further back onto the bed. Coriolanus is quick to follow her, sitting on his knees while he kisses her again, and this time Soarynn pops up on her knees as well.

He's still taller than her, but the height difference is less significant than if they were to both be standing. Coriolanus grabs the back of her head with one hand, his fingers tussling with her blonde hair, the hair that was so carefully styled for their wedding. It'll be a rat's nest by the end of the night.

Soarynn gathers up a bit of courage and rests her hands on his bare chest, feeling how warm his skin feels against her palms. Coriolanus groans into the kiss, clearly enjoying the physical contact. Over the past year, Soarynn has learned how much Coriolanus values physical touch. Just because it's frowned upon for high society couples to sleep with one another before their wedding doesn't mean Coriolanus has kept his hands to himself.

He's constantly attached to her one way or another, holding her hand, resting his hand on her lower back, and having her hold his arm, he's even held pinkies once which was rather adorable.

Coriolanus wedges his knee in between Soarynn's legs and she lets out a breathy moan when his knee brushes against her barely covered cunt. Coriolanus smirks into the kiss and takes a firm hold of her hair before pushing her down onto the bed. Soarynn is breathless as she stares up at the ceiling, utterly and entirely vexed at how quickly things are moving.

But Coriolanus is on top of her again, this time on his hands and knees as he presses kisses to her neck and chest. Soarynn lets out soft, breathy moans at each little kiss he presses to her soft skin. One of his hands pushes down the straps of her white, silky dress, exposing the bralette she's chosen to wear tonight. It's made entirely of intricate lace and has a white rose in the middle of her breasts.

Coriolanus fixes his stare on the rose for a moment before swallowing, and Soarynn feels quite proud of herself for choosing something her husband seems to be so fond of. He presses a kiss to her breast and Soarynn grows restless under him which he quickly fixes by pressing his knee up against her cunt once again, drawing out a desperate moan from Soarynn's lips.

Coriolanus sucks hard against her soft skin and Soarynn gasps at the foreign feeling. She's seen her friends littered with lovebites after their own wedding nights but she never knew if Coriolanus was the type of man to claim what's his. It appears that he is.

Her chest is littered in love bites in a matter of minutes and Coriolanus sits up on his knees to admire his work. Soarynn stares up at him, growing more and more desperate for his touch. Coriolanus reaches down and grabs her dress before tearing it right down the middle. Soarynn gasps as the cold air hits her bare skin, revealing the matching set of lingerie she wore under the dress.

Coriolanus throws whatever remains of her dress in some dark corner of the room before finally seeing Soarynn's body for the first time. She feels nervous about what he might think, that he might wish she were fuller in other places and more spare somewhere else but he seems quite taken with her. "You're a vision," he tells her, and Soarynn blushes, "Thank you."

He nods and withdraws his knee, grinning when Soarynn lets out a displeased sound from the loss of contact, "Eager are we?" He teases to which Soarynn rolls her eyes, "You're very sure of yourself." Coriolanus shrugs all while wearing that boyish grin on his face before he grabs a hold of both of her knees, "I'm very sure of myself because I'm an excellent lover in the bedroom," he corrects her as he pushes her legs apart, revealing her to him. Well, almost all of her.

Soarynn's breath hitches in her throat when he brings a finger to the panties she's elected to wear tonight and swipes over her covered cunt, the feeling sending shocks throughout her body. Coriolanus leans down and kisses her knee, then her thigh, slowly working his way down, all while maintaining eye contact with Soarynn who's beginning to wonder what she's gotten herself into.

But Coriolanus doesn't give her much time to think about it before he finally reaches the waistline of her lace panties. "These simply have to go, darling," he says almost in a disappointed way. Soarynn immediately hikes up her hips and he lets out a deep, throaty chuckle that goes straight to her core.

Coriolanus peels her panties off, unhooking them from her legs before throwing them somewhere in the room. Soarynn feels her legs shaking because there's nothing keeping her from his view anymore. Coriolanus blows air onto her cunt and Soarynn twitches from sensitivity, "You just might have the most perfect cunt I've ever seen," he groans, his fingers ghosting her folds.

Soarynn moans at his words and ruts her hips up, "Please," she says, not really knowing what she's asking him for. "You're soaked," Coriolanus says, his breath so close to her cunt, "can't wait for my cock to be inside of you hmm?" It's amazing to hear such vulgar words come from her husband's mouth, a man who's normally known for speaking so eloquently.

Soarynn ruts her hips again but this time Coriolanus wraps his arm around her waist, pressing her against the mattress, "Be patient darling," he chides, "a good girl waits to be given what she deserves." Those words strike a nerve within Soarynn because she so desperately wants to be good for him, to be a good wife and partner.

When the tongue of Coriolanus Snow finally licks a strip over her cunt, Soarynn nearly screams. The feeling is so overwhelming and he's a talented man with an even more talented mouth. Soarynn is inconsolable as he laps at her cunt, his tongue slightly delving into her entrance before pinpointing her clit.

Soarynn moans at the feeling, attempting to grind against his mouth but still being pinned down by his arm. Her hands grasp at the bedsheets and she feels herself growing closer and closer to what must be her peak. "Oh, oh, oh please," she moans, her right hand reaching down to grab her husband's blonde curls. Coriolanus groans when she tugs on them but it sounds like he enjoys her hands on him and she's in no position to stop unless he does.

Just as she's about to hit her peak, he pulls away. Soarynn lets out a frustrated groan and her legs immediately shut when Coriolanus sits back up. She feels sensitive all over and wonders how women do this on a daily basis. When she looks up at Coriolanus she can see him wearing a cocky expression, clearly proud of himself. She can also see the evident bulge growing through his pants and her throat dries at the sight.

"I'll show you how to return the favor another time," he says, his hands undoing his belt buckle. All Soarynn can do is nod because she doesn't quite trust herself to speak right now. It's an ungodly sight to see Coriolanus only in his underwear, a clear imprint of his cock now visible and he looks like he's on the bigger side.

The nerves kick back in as Soarynn is reminded of what is about to take place in a few minutes. Coriolanus pulls his boxers down and Soarynn visibly pales at the girth and length of his cock, the tip red and a bit of precum already visible.

He's going to tear her apart.

Any reassurances he gave her have flown out the window now because how on earth is that going to fit without being the most painful thing she's ever experienced?

Coriolanus takes notice of her distressed state and takes her hand in his, giving it a squeeze, "Don't be scared, I promise I'll go slowly, you'll get used to it after a few minutes."

It's made quite clear to her at that moment that he has every intention of still going through with the deed, even if it's at her own expense. The marriage must be consummated, no arguments there. And children are expected to come from the two of them sooner than later and Soarynn has a feeling that Coriolanus wants them as soon as possible.

But despite her underlying fears, Soarynn nods, "Okay."

Coriolanus positions himself over her, his arms caging her in as he lines himself up at her entrance. At least she's somewhat prepared, Soarynn can't imagine having sex while being dry as a bone down there. She didn't even try to get wet, it just happened. Coriolanus seems to have that effect on her.

There had been a handful of times when Soarynn attempted to make herself feel good by using her own fingers but she found it to be unsatisfying and after a while, boring. But Coriolanus is so different and now he's about to take her virginity, something she's guarded for so long, unbeknownst to her, for him.

"Try to hold still," he mumbles while slowly pushing into her. Soarynn grits her teeth at the uncomfortably stretch she feels. Coriolanus is big in girth but he keeps to his word and goes slowly, watching her reactions. There's a slight burn that Soarynn is sure she'll experience every single time they have sex. At one point she closes her eyes, unable to look into her husband's piercing gaze. She hopes she's not being too demanding or needy, she wants to be good for him.

Soarynn gasps when she feels him finally bottom out, the tip of his cock presses against a very sensitive spot inside of her, and her legs spasm. Coriolanus leans his forehead against her own and lets out a deep, strained breath, "Fuck you feel so good Soarynn." Soarynn nods but doesn't say anything, she wouldn't even know what to say.

Coriolanus stays there for a moment, letting her get used to the feeling before he slowly withdraws his hips from hers before thrusting back in. Soarynn moans at the new feeling, of her walls wrapping around him and how good it feels when he thrusts back into her.

She finally opens her eyes when he picks up the pace and is faced with a very attractive-looking Coriolanus Snow who seems to be focused on keeping his thrusts steady yet powerful. She can feel the pain ebbing away slowly but surely, the pleasure finally taking over.

Soarynn has been subjected to several detailed recollections of her friends losing their virginities since being married so you’d think that she would have an idea of what to expect and yet it’s entirely new and overwhelming to her.

Once the pleasure finally kicks in Soarynn finally understands why people obsess over sex the way they do. It feels amazing. He feels amazing.

“Oh,” she means, arching her back. Coriolanus looks down at her and flashes her a smile, “Feeling better now are we?” He continues to thrust deep inside of her and Soarynn curls her toes in response, “Yes,” she pants. She brings her hands up to his bare, broad shoulders so that she has something to hold onto and Coriolanus seems to take that as a challenge to take her harder than before.

One thing she’s learned about Coriolanus is that he can be very competitive when he wants to be. And apparently, that bleeds into their sex life as well.

Soarynn can feel herself reaching her peak once again but this time it’s stronger and better as if his mouth is truly no competition for his cock. “Fuck,” he grunts, placing one hand on her lower abdomen. It scrambles Soarynn’s brain when he does that and she lets out a whine, “Please, please,” she begs, her eyes becoming glassy.

Coriolanus goes harder and faster once she starts begging and it’s all too much for Soarynn who finally reaches her first orgasm. Her eyes roll back and she sees stars as her entire body nearly convulses from pleasure. Her perfectly manicured nails dig into his porcelain skin and her mouth is left wide open in a silent scream.

Coriolanus follows right behind her with his own orgasm, swearing under his breath as he finishes inside of her for the first time. Soarynn whimpers at the feeling, at his cum coating her walls, truly claiming her as his now.

Coriolanus takes a moment to calm down, resting on his forearms as he catches his breath. There’s sweat on his brow but he still looks handsome. “Are you alright?” He finally asks, brushing a stray hair from Soarynn’s face. She gives him a tired smile and nods, “Quite. That was…that was much better than what I could have ever imagined.”

Coriolanus laughs and presses a soft kiss to her forehead, a sweet gesture that Soarynn is rarely given but she cherishes all the same. “I’m sure with time, you’ll discover things you like and things you don’t like,” he tells her, his hand traveling down her abdomen, leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake.

Soarynn simply hums and lets him slowly pull out. It almost feels strange to be empty once again but Coriolanus looks mighty proud of himself as he looks down at the mess he’s made between her legs. Soarynn gasps when he swipes a finger up her cunt and it comes away sticky with a red-looking substance. She sits up on her elbows to see a small red stain on the once-white sheets as well.

Her blood. Well, looks like she’s not a virgin anymore.

Coriolanus gives her a rather sultry look, “Looks like you’re truly mine now darling.”

꧁ ꧂

꧁ Present Time ꧂

“Here we are, Mrs. Snow. Would you like me to wait?”

The driver’s words pull Soarynn away from her reminiscent moment and she nods, giving the driver a kind smile, “Yes, please. I won’t be long.”

If Coriolanus is as busy as she thinks he is, she’ll be in and out. Even though she wishes she could stay longer, be around him longer. It’s rather hard to get to know your husband if you only see him when he gets home from work.

But Soarynn pushes those negative thoughts away and opens the car door, stepping out onto the Capitol street in front of the large office building her husband works inside. A slight wave of dizziness hits her and she steadies herself against the car.

She’s been feeling a bit lightheaded for the past few days but she’s shrugged it off for the most part. She probably just needs to get some more sleep. But as she walks into the prominent office building and spots a front desk worker sporting a rather large pregnant stomach, it dawns on her that she might be pregnant.

Certainly, it couldn’t be. But maybe it could be. They certainly haven’t been having unprotected sex for the lack of trying to get pregnant and Soarynn knows that Coriolanus longs for children someday.

Pregnancy aside, Soarynn is here for one thing and one thing only. Her husband. She prepares herself for his closed-off demeanor while riding up in the elevator. She knows it’s nothing personal, that he’s not doing it to hurt her. That's simply how Coriolanus is.

Cold and calculated.

| Part 3. |

| tumblr oneshot/drabble |

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lunagojo · 2 years ago

Text

Various Anime Boys: Being Told "I love you" For The First Time (Part 2!)

a/n: yeeeeeah i should be working on my essay but here I am

Featured: Sanemi Shinazugawa, Kento Nanami, Keigo Takami / Hawks, Atsuhiro Sako / Mr. Compress

Warnings: Swearing in Sanemi's, stitching up Atsuhiro's boo boos

~ Part 1 ~ ~ Part 3 ~ ~ Part 4 ~ ~ Part 5 ~

Sanemi Shinazugawa:

(was anyone gonna tell me he and Satoru share the same English dub VA??? It's so weird hearing Gojo's voice coming out of Nemi XD)

The other Hashira could not understand it. How did you manage to calm Sanemi down so much? It’s like your presence alone was a soothing balm to his damaged heart. Even he didn’t fully understand why he was so drawn to you, like a moth to a warm, glowing light. You were kind, patient, understanding…all things that he yearned for. And you made him ohagi, which, of course, was a bonus.

You were sitting together outside one evening, simply enjoying the peace and quiet together. Sanemi was unusually quiet, his lips pressed into a thin, firm line. He was getting annoyed with how he felt around you, and how lately you had refused to make eye contact with him.

“Hey,” he said suddenly, his voice rough, “Why the fuck don’t you look at me anymore? It’s like I’m ugly or somethin’ to you.”

You immediately raised your hands and shook your head adamantly, “No, no, it’s…it’s not that at all, Sanemi! I’m sorry.”

“Then what the fuck is it? And don’t tell me it’s that you’re shy or some shit.”

“N—No…it’s not that either.”

“Then just tell me, dammit. You’re starting to irk me.” He huffed, narrowing his eyes at you.

You blushed and swallowed harshly, looking embarrassed. “…I love you, Sanemi.”

He froze in place, his eyes going wide. “What?! You better not be fuckin’ joking or I’ll kick your ass.” It was an empty threat, Sanemi would never hurt you. He’d kill anyone who tried.

“I’m not joking!” You replied quickly, your cheeks darkening. You looked down into your lap, terrified that you had just made some sort of big mistake. Sanemi’s hand found yours and he squeezed it, bringing it to his lips. You looked back at him, surprised.

“I love you too, idiot.”

Kento Nanami

(violently drooling over this man)

It had been several long, toiling days of work at Jujutsu Tech for you. You’d barely had any time to rest, having to wrap up mountains of paperwork that entailed the various curses that had been exorcised in the recent days. It was going to be another late night, everyone else had either gone home or gone to bed in the dorms, and it was just you, awake and working hard to finish up your work.

That is, you thought it was just you.

You didn’t even notice Kento standing in the doorway, watching you as you typed away on your computer. He didn’t know how you could look so stunning even when you were exhausted. He cleared his throat, which ended up startling you.

“I’m sorry,” He said as he entered, “ I didn’t mean to scare you.” In his hand was a paper bag.

You exhaled, relieved it was only Kento. Giving him a tired smile, you gestured for him to sit down in the spare seat. “It’s alright,” You assured him. “I guess I’ve just been way too absorbed in getting this done.”

“I can see that,” He replied, opening the bag. “You’ve been working tremendously hard lately. You need a break.” He took a wrapped sandwich out of the bag and offered it to you. “I know it isn’t much, but you do need to eat.”

You gratefully took the sandwich and didn’t hesitate to start eating it. You were starving.

“It won’t kill you to take a break,” He said. “Working overtime is never healthy.” He folded his hands in his lap, offering you a kind smile. You blushed at the sight. Kento rarely smiled around anyone.

You sighed softly and sat back in your chair. “I know…but I need to get this done.”

“I’m sure it wouldn’t do any harm to get some sleep tonight.” He pressed gently, removing his glasses and loosening his tie. “If you’re adamant about finishing it then I would be more than happy to keep you company.”

Something about his kindness, his smile, the way he was looking at you, it was almost too much for you to handle. He had always been so nice and thoughtful toward you.

God, I love you.

He straightened in his seat suddenly, looking at you with a wide eyed gaze. It took you a moment to realize that you had said it.

Heat creeping up into your cheeks, you stammered out an apology, ears burning hotly. Kento then smiled again, getting up from his chair and rounding your desk, so he was stood in front of you. His hand gently cradled your face, thumb running along your cheek. “You mean that?” He asked quietly, his eyes searching yours.

You nodded. He responded by pressing his lips to your forehead, murmuring back, “I love you, too. Now come to bed.”

(these are getting longer and longer lmfao)

Keigo Takami

(sunshine bby bird boi)

“Haaawwwks~! Haaaawwwwwwkkkksss~!”

You rolled your eyes at the incessant sounds of the girls on the TV. Hawks had just rescued a bunch of people from a burning building and, of course, a fleet of his fangirls had followed him. It made your gut twist in jealousy when you saw footage of him taking selfies with some of them. You turned off the TV after that, flopping back on the couch. You knew you shouldn’t be jealous, after all, Keigo and you were just friends, nothing more. But God damn, did he make it so hard, with his stupid good looks and stupid charm and stupid sweet heart and sense of justice.

You heard the window to your apartment slide open and feet hit the floor. “Heyyyyy, Y/N, I’m baaaaack! Mind if I use your shower?”

“You have your own apartment, Kei.” You retorted, turning your head to look at him. He looked a bit scuffed up but still had that doofy big grin on his face.

“But it’s not as fun as being here with you!” He said in a sing songy voice, “Did ya see my rescue? Pretty nifty, huh?”

“Was alright.” You said back, inciting a snort from him.

“You wound me, Y/N.” He feigned heartbreak by clutching his chest. “’Kay, lemme go get cleaned up.”

He disappeared into your bathroom, leaving you resting alone on the couch again. You heard the shower running and covered your eyes with your arms, sighing heavily. You were in love with him and you felt stupid because of it.

In a few minutes he came back out, dressed in clean clothes, his hair and wings damp still. “Wanna order some takeout or something? I could really go for some yakitori, y’know?”

“No, you go ahead, though.” You said back flatly.

Keigo frowned a bit. “Hey now, what’s wrong? Did something happen?” He flopped down on the couch next to you, giving you a quizzical look. “C’mon, Y/N, talk to meeeeeee…”

“It’s nothing important, Kei.”

“It’s important to me. You’re important to me.” He pressed further, leaning into you so his chin was on your shoulder. “Please tell me?”

You sighed, finally looking at him. “I told you it’s nothing important, Keigo.”

“Noooo, c’mon, you’re torturing me now. Please please pleeeeease tell meeeee?”

“Ugh, God, I love you, stupid! I always have!” You finally blurted, annoyed and now embarrassed.

Silence fell over the apartment as humiliated tears stung your eyes. You were half expecting him to laugh, half expecting him to gently reject you. But he didn’t.

Instead, he tucked his fingers under your chin, turning your head so you’d look at him. His face had an expression on it that you’d never seen before, his eyes were so soft, his smile so warm and comforting. “I didn’t think you felt the same.” He said. ”Wha—” you began, but he cut you off with his lips on yours. Sparks flew from behind your eyelids at the feeling.

When you two broke apart, he rested his forehead against yours, a tender smile on his face. “…You sure you don’t want yakitori, though?”

Atsuhiro Sako

(this man needs so much more appreciation, honestly)

“You really ought to be more careful, Compress.” You said as you stitched up a wound on Atsuhiro’s side. “You’re probably the only sane person in the League, besides Kurogiri. How am I gonna deal with the others if you go and get yourself killed?”

“It almost sounds like you care for me, my dear.” He drawled in response, a small smirk playing across his face. Well, what you could see of it through his balaclava. He gritted his teeth, though, when you pulled the thread through again. “Fear not, I shall not leave you to fend for yourself. It would not be very theatrical of me.” His eyes lingered on your face, his grin widening when you blushed and looked away.

“…I was worried,” You admitted, finishing up with his stitches.

His smile faded then, and he placed a hand on your wrist. “I’m sorry for making you worry,” He replied, his brown eyes softening. “I promise I will be more careful from now on, alright?”

You nodded, setting your materials to the side and retrieving a bandage to wrap around his abdomen. “…Hiro?” You asked, looking up at him.

“Hm? What is it, my dear?”

“…I love you.”

He stiffened for a moment, but then a warm smile grew across his lips. He wrapped an arm around you despite the objection coming from his wounded side. Pulling you close to him, he presses his lips to your forehead, nuzzling your hair. “I know.” He said softly. “I love you, too, my dear. You mean everything to me.”

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annie-creates · 9 months ago

Text

The biggest star

Pairing: Queen Ravenna x reader

Genre: fluff

Words: 1500

Note: It's another International Women's Day so let's celerate with something a little different this time, I got inspired by the Pearl's quote. There's not many Ravenna fics being written so I hope you'll like this one.

With the early morning sunrise you got out of bed ready to feed the few animals you took care of at your parents’ farm and prepare the dough for a fresh loaf of bread. Every morning started like this, ever since you could remember. You took care of your responsibilities and duties, cleaning around the house or taking care of some gardening. Your mother prepared all the goods you were going to be selling at the town market that day and your father tended to the fields and cattle.

“Don’t forget to get all the fresh eggs.” Your mom reminded you as you prepared today’s commodities.

“Yes mother.” You nod, no matter how old she had a habit of reminding you of everything, just to be sure.

The road to the town square was bumpy as always but lucky enough you didn’t live far away enough to encounter any robbers or muggers. There was a stall by stall, your neighbors selling baked pastries or meat. Your family’s business was more in eggs, milk and vegetables. You helped reach, pack and hand over packets amongst packets of goods, happy that today is gonna be a good day for your business. With the money you make you’ll buy other things you weren’t able to provide for yourself like flour or leaven.

“Mother, can I go take a look around?” You begged tired of standing in one place all day.

“Fine, but don’t take too long.” She waved you off.

Your eyes sparkled with joy and you took off exploring the town you knew all too well already. Back when you used to go to school you traveled here by foot almost daily, but since you turned thirteen you were tied up at the farm with work. You’ve learnt to read and count, but there wasn’t much more needed in your life. You lived day by day identical to the previous one and it was incredibly tiring to you. You wanted to see more of this world. Live in all the places the merchants who sometimes visited your town told everyone about.

As you neared a group of women with one of the queen’s guards in the middle, the gathering peaked your interest. It was known that queen Ravenna wasn’t one to visit around or get out of her castle too often, and the same was true for her guard. Sure, some of the lower ranked soldiers always overlooked gatherings like this, but this man’s uniform proved he was ranked much higher and was one of the closest to the queen, so his appearance was certainly unusual.

“Slowly, ladies, you all can take your chance tomorrow.” He commanded the crowd giving out some instruction slips. “Here, you, take one too.”

He pushed a pamphlet in your hand as soon as you got close enough to be within his reach. Reading the few lines written on there, you learned that the queen is looking for a handful of new maids and ladies fitting at the court to keep her company. Could this be the chance you’ve been waiting for? All the ladies chatted around you about how interesting and undeniable chance this was. One that comes only once in life. That got you convinced, even if they didn’t choose you in the end, you wouldn’t be able to live with yourself knowing you passed on such a chance.

When you got home that evening, you prepared dinner with a bit more enthusiasm and ate faster than anyone has ever seen you do before, ready for this day to end so the next one can begin. You took care of braiding your hair before going to bed to have some pretty waves in the morning, cleaning your face and brushing your teeth extra good. As you went to bed, you took a moment to pray to the universe.

“Please lord, make me the biggest star the world has ever known. So that I make it far, far away from this place.” You didn’t know what star you wanted to be, but as far as it got you a different life, you didn’t care.

You could hardly sleep from the excitement for the next day, rising even before the sun could and running around your chores the fastest and best you could. You got out your best dress you only used for weddings, funerals and church visits, hoping it would be good enough for the queen. Will you get to meet her? From what you heard her grace and beauty was like no other, and her magnificence preceded her. Ready for breakfast and to get to the part of town stated at the pamphlet in time, you arrive at the table.

“And where are you going off to in your best dress?” your mother wondered.

“There’s a selection for queen’s escort today in town, I thought I’d give it a shot.” You admitted unsure of your parents’ reaction.

“Queen’s escort? You?” she scoffed. “You better not slack on your duties because of this nonsense.”

“Of course not mother.” You didn’t expect your family to be supportive of your goals but it still stinged.

When you finally arrived at the town hall where the choosing was taking place, there were some more guards and other officiants. You’ve learnt they are the ones responsible for the first selection, picking only a few of the dozens of girls who auditioned to come to the castle and start learning all the tasks that come with living along the queen. Some would be then chosen as maids, some would find themselves amongst chefs or seamstresses and only a few would get the chance to become the queen’s escort. Or you could fail completely and they’ll send you back home as fast as you came.

As they picked and chose what girls to take with them and who to turn down, the lucky ones squealed with happiness and the other ones cried. When it came to your turn, two of the men examined you with eagle eye, finally deciding to let you pass. A big rock fell off your heart so hard it must have been heard through the hall. You were in. You were gonna come to the castle and learn to become one of queen’s closest people. You couldn’t believe your luck. As you stepped in their carriage and let it take you towards your new destiny, you hoped to not let anyone down, especially yourself.

As you arrived at the castle and got settled in crowded rooms for servants and valets, another harsh regime started. You spent days and weeks learning and observing all the different tasks performed around the place. Every night you went to sleep exhausted and every morning you had to get up with a smile on your face. But as some of the girls started falling off your hard endeavor started to pay off. After a few weeks you started learning around the queen, your first meeting being unforgettable.

“Good morning.” She greeted you from her throne and you all bowed low. “I see we have some great adepts here. I hope you all will raise to the occasion and become wonderful.”

She was fierce and strong, that much was evident. All the stories of her beauty fell short as she looked like the embodiment of an angel to you. It was a moment you couldn’t get out of your head for a long time and every time your training got hard, you reminded yourself that this is exactly what you’re going through all this for. To serve the queen however she pleases. Her charm and grace hardly left your mind and with every meeting you worshipped her more and more. You were so smitten with her character and glamor you felt like you could hardly breath sometimes.

After two months spent with the queen you all were finally done with your training ready to become permanent residents of the castle. You hoped and prayed wherever they assigned you you’d get to meet her at least sometime. Only being in her company would make you eternally grateful. You didn’t know if you could live it the same place knowing she could be right behind the wall yet never seeing her really. Some of the girls who became your friends over the time were sent to the kitchen, some became maids and charladies. There it was again, the stone on your heart hoping to not be sent home after all your efforts, hard work and dedication.

“And you.” The queen herself stood in front of you in all her beauty. “How would you like becoming my personal escort?”

Your eyes lit up with her offer, hardly believing what your ears were hearing. Little did you know your infatuation with her impressed her and she too enjoyed your particular company. This was going to be the start of a wonderful future for you both.

“Yes, my queen.” You bowed to Ravenna stepping towards your new exciting life.

#queen ravenna fluff #queen ravenna #queen ravenna x you #queen ravenna x reader #snow white and the huntsman #snow white #charlize theron x reader #charlize theron x you #charlize theron

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skyward-floored · 5 months ago

Note

At time or writing its my birthday so, yay! Prompt: Time and his family blending in during a community event

So I saw “community event” and kind of immediately thought “county fair” for some reason and kinda focused on that, and it’s blending in but it’s not like totally the focus and... well... it’s not exactly what you asked for..? But I hope you enjoy it anyways at least. And happy late birthday :)

(Requests are closed! I’m just finishing up the ones I have)

————————————————————

Twilight couldn’t help being stressed whenever his family all went someplace in public.

It was probably stupid— check that, he knew it was stupid to worry so much, especially when they were here to have fun. And he liked the Ordon county fair, it was one of his favorite things to do in the summer, he just... he worried.

He worried about Wind being so flippant about using his powers in public, since they were so hard to notice. He worried about Four, that he’d get lost or separated from them. He worried that Hyrule would get overwhelmed, he worried that Wild would use his powers without thinking, he worried he worried he worried.

And most of all, he worried they’d be exposed and have to move.

Again.

The last time was still stark in Twilight’s memory, the stress, the worry... the fear. The looks his parents would give each other, and the conversations they’d had that they’d thought were out of Twilight’s earshot (they weren’t).

So yeah. Despite loving the fair, and eating junky food and getting to pet all kinds of animals and see what his grandpa was showing this year... the moment they got there, Twilight was on edge.

Wild made to run off the second they all walked through the gates, but their father snagged his shirt, clearing his throat.

“Ground rules,” he reminded with a raised eyebrow, and Wild and his siblings sighed as they moved to a spot where they wouldn’t be overheard by anybody. “You remember them?”

“Don’t go off alone, if you see anything suspicious come find you or Mom, meet back at lunchtime at the barn where Grandpa is,” they all rattled off, and Time nodded approvingly.

“And absolutely no powers,” Malon added with a pointed look at Wind.

Wind grumbled and kicked at the dirt, but nodded, and Twilight felt a little bit of his anxiety ease.

“All right. Go have fun,” Time said with a faint smile, and they all split and ran, Wild grinning as he dragged Hyrule off to who-knows-where.

Wind ran after them, and Twilight hesitated, unsure whether to tag along or stay with his parents. Wild could get into all sorts of trouble, though Hyrule wasn’t likely to go along with anything too insane. But with Wind as another influence...

“You want to see if Grandpa is here yet?” Legend asked him with a poke, and Twilight swallowed back his worry. He was here to have fun. He needed to stop worrying about what his siblings were doing, and relax.

He breathed out and nodded at the question, and Twilight and Legend went off towards the livestock, glancing back just long enough to see Time put Four up on his shoulders so he could see over the swarms of people.

At least he probably didn’t need to worry about that group.

Legend and Twilight wandered through the fairgrounds, steadily making their way towards the big barns where all the livestock were kept. There weren’t really any games or food in this area, but it wasn’t boring by any means; lots of companies had stalls along this path, all eager to advertise, and Twilight got three free pens and a cup with the Malo Mart logo printed all over it. Legend ended up with some pens as well, along with a paper fan, a stress ball, a pair of sunglasses that looked like they would fall apart if anyone looked at them wrong, and a balloon, somehow.

He tied it happily on his wrist as they finally reached the barns, and Twilight looked around, the familiar sounds of mooing cows and smell of hay easing the anxiety still twisting his stomach.

“Heya Twi!” a cheerful voice called over the noise of the barn, and Twilight turned towards it, perking up at the sight of the blonde girl waving at him.

He and Legend worked their way through the stalls and people, and Twilight grinned as the girl ran up and squeezed them both, her face excited.

“Hey Ilia,” Twilight said, and she pulled back, still grinning.

Ilia lived in Ordon proper, rather than the outskirts where his grandpa’s ranch was, but he and his brothers often ran around with her whenever they visited. She was a good friend, even if she could be a bit intense sometimes.

“Howdy boys. You here to see the animals this year? Ordon ranch has some blue ribbons in the making, I know it!” Ilia said excitedly, and the goat behind her let out a bleat. She turned around and petted it, and Twilight did the same, the goat happily rubbing against his hand. “The goats miss having you around, Twilight. You need to visit again!”

“It hasn’t been that long. And grandpa really doesn’t have room for all of us,” Twilight pointed out, and she shrugged, giving the goat’s nose a pat.

“Well it feels like it’s been ages since you last came to Ordon. And what’s so bad about being a little cramped for a bit?”

“You’ve never had to share a bed with Wild,” Legend snorted, balloon waving as he crossed his arms. “He couldn’t keep still if his life depended on it. Plus he always hogs the blankets.”

“He’s not that bad,” Twilight interjected as Ilia laughed, and Legend rolled his eyes.

“That’s just because you can get him to stay still with your—”

He cut off rather suddenly, and Twilight froze, well aware Legend had been about to talk about his wolf form. The anxiety roared back as Ilia looked between them, and he felt his heart start to pound.

She’s going to find out she’s going to get her mind wiped we’re going to have to move again we need to leave or she’s—

“With his what? Ilia asked, and Legend cleared his throat.

“Oh you know, he has his ways. Most of them involve sitting on Wild,” he shrugged, and Ilia laughed again, quickly moving on from the hiccup. Twilight swallowed, trying to calm his racing heart, and based on the look Legend gave him, he could probably hear it thudding.

What was wrong with him? Usually he could handle little mistakes like that with ease, and he’d just frozen up?

Twilight swallowed again, stomach still twisting itself into knots. Why was he so nervous?

“Hey boys!”

“Grandpa!” Legend grinned in return, and Twilight calmed down somewhat as their grandpa came up and engulfed both of them in a hug.

“Ah it’s been too long since I’ve seen you kids. You’re shooting up like weeds!” Talon chuckled, patting them both on the back. “You’ve come to see our prize-winning horses I assume?”

“And cows, and goats, and donkeys, chickens, ducks, ponies... basically anything you got,” Legend said, nudging Twilight with a smirk.

Twilight mustered up a smile. “Yeah. Epona’s foals still your stars?”

“As always. One’s already won a ribbon. This way,” Talon said as his mustache upturned in a smile, and the two boys followed, Ilia joining them.

Twilight calmed down again as they walked around the barn with their grandpa and Ilia, petting animals and saying hello to other farmers. Ilia got called away before they reached Lon Lon’s stalls, but she promised she’d come talk to them again later.

Epona’s foals were still sweet and feisty as ever. She’d had one more recently, and the little thing seemed to especially love Twilight, bumping her head against his chest. Twilight smiled and patted her, and she let out a shrill little whinny, prancing as much as she could in her stall.

“Just like her mother, that one,” Talon chuckled. “She’s just here to get used to the crowds this year, but we’ll have her winning ribbons soon enough. We’ve been calling her Little Epona. With Malon’s approval, of course.”

“Well she’s definitely like Epona,” Twilight said, and hummed something under his breath, the little filly going still at the notes. Her ears flicked, and when Twilight finished, she whinnied excitedly, nuzzling at his hair.

He laughed, and Legend snorted, giving the horse a few gentle pets before pulling back. “I’m going to go see if that one guy has the baby bunnies again this year, I’ll be right over there,” he pointed, and Twilight nodded. As long as he could see Legend, he didn’t mind them separating a little.

Legend strolled away, balloon bobbing behind him, and Talon turned to look at Twilight, a thoughtful expression on his face.

“You doing all right Twilight?” he asked. Twilight shrugged, looking back at Little Epona. He didn’t really want to talk about it.

“Okay, I guess,” he said, ignoring the lump still in his stomach and the anxiety keeping him on edge.

“You sure, son? You keep lookin’ around like someone’s fixin’ to take a bite out of you.”

“No, I’m great,” Twilight tried to say in a more upbeat voice, but even he could tell it fell flat.

Talon raised an eyebrow.

“Now that’s a deflection if I ever heard one. What’s eatin’ you, son?” he asked, and Twilight leaned back against the stall, still petting Little Epona. The petting motion helped soothe him a little, and he took a minute to respond.

“I’m just... I guess I’m nervous,” he admitted in a mumble, his stomach giving itself a twist. “We haven’t all been anywhere this crowded since the last time we had to move, and I’m...”

Twilight trailed off, and Little Epona nuzzled at his arm.

“You’re worried it’s gonna happen again,” Talon guessed, and Twilight nodded. “Ah, kiddo. You gotta understand, all of that isn’t something you can control.”

“Exactly, that’s the problem,” Twilight said, and felt his chest squeezing tighter. “I can’t control it. Something might happen any moment where one of us will have to use our powers, and then everyone will see and they’ll get their memories wiped and we’ll have to move again and—”

“Whoa whoa, hold your horses Twi,” his grandpa said, putting his hands on his shoulders. “Calm down.”

“But—”

“Breathe,” Talon said firmly, and Twilight breathed in, then slowly let it out. “Thank you. Panicking never did anyone a lick of good.”

Twilight looked down at his shoes, and his grandpa was quiet for a few moments, his hands still on Twilight’s shoulders.

Little Epona nickered softly, and Twilight leaned back, going back to petting her neck.

“I used to worry about your mother’s powers being discovered,” his grandpa said finally, and Twilight snuck a look at him. Talon was watching him with a look both fond and wistful on his face, and glanced over at Little Epona. “She’d go off to school, and I’d worry she’d accidentally use her horse-soothing voice without thinking, try and talk to some deer that’d run by, do things people aren’t s’pposed to be able to do... any number of things.”

“How did you stop?” Twilight asked softly.

Talon hummed. “I don’t know that I ever fully did. Malon was a bit of a wild thing when she was young... if she’d wanted to use her powers in front of people, I doubt I could’ve stopped her.”

His eyes went distant for a moment, then he sighed, and turned and put a hand on Twilight’s shoulder again.

“But I trusted her to listen to me anyway. I took her by her word, and she took me at mine. That was all we could do.

“I guess what I’m tryin’a say is... you can’t control your circumstances, kiddo,” Talon said gently. “You just have to accept whatever life throws at you, and go from there. It’s not under your control if something happens where one of your family members’ll need to use their powers, or even if they do by accident. The only thing you can control is how you react and respond.”

His face softened, and he squeezed Twilight’s shoulder.

“Have you talked to your folks about any of this?”

Twilight shuffled his feet. “...Not really.” He didn’t want to add something else to their numerous worries. Especially something as dumb as being a little anxious.

“Well I would bet it would help,” Talon said with a smile. “I’m willing to be a listenin’ ear, but your folks will probably have a better solution than I would. And I know it’s hard, but you’re too young to be worryin’ your head off the way you are. Try and take it easy, son. You’re here to have fun, after all. Try and take a break from your worries.”

Twilight gave him a nod in response, not completely convinced, but... feeling a little better all the same. Grandpa always had a way of doing that.

Talon gave him a quick hug, and Twilight squeezed him in return as Legend wandered back their direction.

“All the guy had was turtles, can you believe it? No rabbits, just turtles. Who brings turtles to a fair?” Legend griped, then looked at Twilight and his grandpa as they pulled back. “...Everything okay?”

“Yeah,” Twilight replied, and Talon patted his shoulder. “Do you want to go see if Wild won anything at those games he always tries before we have to eat lunch?”

Legend grinned. “Boy do I. How long before he loses his patience and gets Wind to help him cheat, do you think?”

Twilight sighed. “He probably already has.”

Somehow though, the thought didn’t bring with it nearly as much anxiety as it would have earlier.

“See you boys later,” Talon waved, and Legend and Twilight waved goodbye as they left the barn, but not before giving Little Epona some goodbye pats. The filly whinnied happily as Twilight said goodbye, and he smiled as he and Legend went to go find Wild.

His stomach still felt tight as they walked out of the barn, but Twilight put it firmly from his mind, deciding he wasn’t going to let his anxiety ruin his day.

Sure he was still nervous. And worried about his family, and what the day might bring and what the future would hold. But he was going to enjoy himself regardless.

A faint strain of accordion music drifted through the air, mixing with laughter from somewhere nearby, and Twilight smiled as Legend excitedly nudged his shoulder.

He wouldn’t let worry over the unknown ruin the day for him.

#Incredibles au #Incredibles au fic #answers from the floor #lovely p1ayer0001 #IAU Twilight #IAU ensemble #writing from the floor #I love talooooon #he’s so nice #based him off a few people I know #and yes I’m aware of the irony of finishing this because I was feeling anxious #hahhhh...

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eemcintyre · 1 year ago

Text

Cruel to be Kind (Terry Silver)

TW- um... about that... *inhales,* noncon touching, mentions of harassment, size/strength kink if you squint, vomit, blood, literal murder, general toxic yandere-esque behavior; no need to worry about me at all btw thx for asking ❤️

Summary- Terry finds out that a coworker has been bothering you and you insist he stays out of it, but he takes matters into his own hands. Literally. And let's just say that it could go better.

Pls I beg you to be kind for this first foray into writing for this character. I was inspired by the phenomenal writings of @karatekels and @terrence-silver, hopefully it's an enjoyable read. It was cathartic for me to write bc I'm dealing with a v creepy guy where I work right now and it makes me feel just the tiniest bit better to imagine Terry destroying him.

“You’re quiet today. Is everything alright?”

Terry’s curious voice sounded from the leather armchair where he sat. His face was still slightly downturned from when he had been reading the book in his lap, but his eyes were directed up at her quizzically.

It was the end of a long workday for both he and Y/N, and after dinner they had decided to simply sit and enjoy each other’s company- he in the armchair, and she on the couch perpendicular to him. However, his attempts at conversation quickly fizzled out with short, superficial replies from Y/N. While she was usually vibrant, having no shortage of things to say as her dark eyes glittered with excitement, that evening, her distant gaze reflected that her thoughts were elsewhere.

At Terry’s question, Y/N’s gaze snapped out of the distance and onto him, his favorite place for it to be.

“Yes, of course, everything’s fine,” she smiled and nodded, with what looked like substantial effort, sitting with her feet curled up on the couch.

Terry removed his glasses and snapped the cover of his book closed. “Darling, how long until you finally realize that you can’t lie to me?” They’d been together for five years and married for three of them, and she had yet to succeed.

“I…” Y/N opened her mouth to make another hollow proclamation about how fine she was but thought better of it. “It’s nothing; it’s not important. You have better things to worry about.”

She stared down at her hands, twisted together in her lap. Embarrassment washed over her in an intense red flush as she thought about what she was bothered by, praying that she wouldn’t have to tell him.

Terry leaned forward almost imperceptibly in his chair, lowering his voice, his expression softening in the way that it only did for her.

“Should I be worried? Why don’t you let me be the judge of that?”

“It’s just… you have a tendency to… overreact.” Y/N briefly met his eyes, even though she knew without looking at them that they were piercing through her.

“Oh?”

Y/N could tell from that single syllable of Terry’s response that what she’d said had been the wrong thing to say. The soft expression returned to its typical severity.

“Give me an example. Give me an example of a time I ‘overreacted’,” he gestured for her to go on, leaning back into the armchair and crossing one long leg over the other.

“Terry…”

“No, I want to know. Tell me so I can learn how to handle myself better.” His voice was laced with sarcasm. Her stomach sank, but there was no turning back from the conversation now. His interest was piqued, and like an animal on the hunt, he wasn’t about to let the matter go.

“Well, like the time that guy hit on me at the charity ball and you roundhouse-kicked him in the garden.” Y/N replied cautiously, cringing, not only remembering the feeling of that creep groping her again, but also the shock of Terry’s dramatic reaction to it.

Rather than hotly debate that past event with her, which was what Y/N expected, he simply cocked his head and asked “Is this like that time?”

“Just… please be calm.”

“I am calm.” His voice took on an unmistakably harder edge as he leaned toward her again, waves of silver hair framing his face, and just like that it softened. His capacity to pivot from one mood to another, moment-by-moment, never failed to amaze her. Terry rose from his chair and took the place next to Y/N on the couch, resting one of his large, warm hands over hers, which were sitting on the tops of her thighs. “You’re just worrying me. What’s going on?”

Y/N sighed, her eyes affixed to the floor, fidgeting nervously with Terry’s hand as she spoke. “There’s this guy who’s a higher-up in my department at work- Brian- who’s been… bothering me. At first, he just made a lot of, like, off-color jokes, but now he’s also touched me a couple of times and- I mean, maybe it was an accident, but…” Her voice had become barely a mumble. “I just feel really uncomfortable… and I don’t want it to escalate anymore…”

She paused briefly and finally turned her head to face him. He remained silent, and unlike how he could so easily with her, she couldn’t tell what he was thinking. The silence intensified her nervousness, so she rambled on.

“I’m trying to figure out how I should handle it without causing a big scene because, other than that, I have a really good thing going there, but… I’m just afraid that one day he’s going to be outside waiting for me in the parking lot or something.” She was shaking by this point and turned away from him again.

With a husband who was known for being so strikingly intelligent and capable of handling himself, Y/N felt utterly stupid for 1) getting into such a situation in the first place, and 2) not yet managing to get it under control. She wondered if a “strike first, strike hard, no mercy” lecture was coming.

Instead, she was surprised when he rose from the couch and strode toward one of the tall living room windows, hands in his pockets.

“Does this prick know that you’re married?” he asked.

She held up her left hand, adorned with a large and intricately detailed ring that was hard, if not impossible, for anyone to miss.

“Does he know who you’re married to?”

“I doubt there’s anyone in town who doesn’t,” Y/N uttered a half-hearted laugh.

“And do you dislike that?” He stepped back toward her with measured steps, but his blue eyes flashed. “Is there a reason you don’t want to be associated with me?”

“I just don’t like being treated differently,” she said wistfully, thinking back to when she was just another random person and not Terry Silver’s wife. “Sometimes I feel like I get things I didn’t earn. Sometimes people act like they’re afraid of me.”

“They’re not afraid of you, angel. They’re afraid of me,” Terry replied, his matter-of-fact tone contrasted by the tension of his fists and the vein protruding from his forehead. “But apparently, not enough. If someone disrespects you, they disrespect me.”

Y/N’s shoulders sagged in frustration. “Don’t make this out to be an attack on your ego; this has nothing to do with you-”

“It has everything to do with me!”

She flinched and he made a conscious effort to lower his voice, crouching at her feet and taking her hands, tilting her chin up to force her to look at him. “A threat to you is a threat to me because I care about you so deeply. And no one threatens me and gets away with it.”

“Terry, now you’re scaring me…” She tried to shrink away from his touch, but he was slipping too far into his own anger to notice. The idea of some creep feeling entitled to put their filthy, unworthy hands on his wife, reducing her vivacious personality and sweet smile to a quiet, blank stare, had Terry seeing red.

“This jackass put his hands on you? I’ll put my hands around his neck until it snaps,” he growled.

“Terry! Please, let me resolve this. Don’t hurt him-”

“-Don’t hurt him?” he was incredulous. They rose to their feet together, where he towered over her and gripped her by the shoulders. “He hurt you, I’ll hurt him. Cause and effect. Actions have consequences. If he doesn’t have an understanding of that concept, I’ll give him one…”

“‘Consequences’ doesn’t have to mean breaking his legs. I am begging you, please just let me handle this and don’t do anything, not yet- promise me, sweetheart, please. For me.” Y/N’s voice shook as she pleaded with him, hands fisted in his shirt, trying with everything in her power not to cry as she felt tears shimmer at the corners of her eyes.

Terry stared down at her wordlessly, but his face calmed, and he released her from his hold, making a gesture with his shoulders and arms that Y/N read as acceptance.

“Thank you,” she exhaled, wrapping her arms around his torso in an embrace, her body relaxing when she felt his arms curl around her too.

The following day, Y/N pulled her cream-colored vintage Mercedes into the driveway. She was looking forward to an early start to the weekend, having had an extremely productive day and meeting all of the week’s deadlines just after the hour of noon. It was truly shocking how productive Y/N could be when she wasn’t constantly having to worry about avoiding Brian and wondering what he might do next.

When Y/N first clocked in for the morning, she’d been struck with an ice-cold pang in her stomach upon noticing that his desk was empty. She immediately thought of the ominous conversation with Terry yesterday, but before she could fall too far down that spiral, she was relieved to learn that Brian had merely called in sick. She laughed at herself. There was always some kind of cough or cold floating around the office, and to be honest, Y/N was surprised that she hadn’t caught anything herself in a while.

Even though a single day of illness wasn’t going to fix any of her problems, it was definitely a charming coincidence, a welcome surprise. It made the entire day incredibly pleasant- the sun seemed to shine brighter, her morning tea tasted sweeter, and the sound of the Motown music coming from the car radio sounded clearer. Maybe the universe was on her side and, even if she didn’t know how yet, everything would sort itself out after all.

Reaching the garage, she removed the key from the Mercedes’ ignition and took a moment to relish in the silence. The only detectable sound was the distant chirp of birds.

Come to think of it, it was almost too quiet.

Even during times when Terry himself was away doing work, the staff was always clattering around inside and outside the house doing cleaning and maintenance. Maybe they’d also had a productive morning.

Gathering her purse and heading inside, Y/N thought about suggesting to Terry that they go out to dinner, and maybe even take a whirlwind weekend trip. She decided to freshen up her hair and makeup and change into something cute before he returned home. Maybe that delicate champagne-colored slip dress from Paris.

Y/N found the interior of the house to be just as quiet and empty as the exterior, the sound of her lone footsteps bouncing off the marble walls of the foyer. She jumped upon hearing a thud from the floor above but was comforted to finally hear some sort of movement in the house. She was about to call out for some of the staff when Vince, Terry’s head of security, appeared from a side hallway.

Y/N smiled in relief. “What’s going on? Where is everyone?” she asked, realizing that if Vince was at the house, then Terry must be as well. “Where’s Terry?”

Vince did not smile back. “Mr. Silver is working in his office. He asked not to be disturbed until-”

She waved him off, bemused, taking a step forward that he immediately moved to block. “What are you talking about? I’m sure-”

“Mrs. Silver, he ordered me not to let anyone in.”

“I’m his wife,” she insisted, her pulse inexplicably starting to race, eyebrows furrowed as she kept trying to get past Vince and he continued to block her path. It kept repeating over and over in her head that something was wrong. “I’m sure he didn’t mean…”

Their tense dance across the floors escalated as Vince physically tried to hold her in place by the shoulders.

“What the hell? Let me go!” she cried, writhing in his grip, and swatting at his chest.

“Mrs. Silver, please don’t do this-”

Y/N managed to push him away from her for a brief moment, long enough to step out of the perimeter of his reach and sprint up the stairs. She stumbled a few times, shaking and lightheaded, and her thoughts were so muddled from panic that she hardly knew how she eventually reached the door of Terry’s office.

She would have hesitated to dramatically burst in and disturb him under normal circumstances, but these circumstances were decidedly not normal.

She staggered through the doorway.

The rest of the room was slightly sunken-in from the doorway, making it so one was unable to see most of the room without taking a few steps further. She was met again with eerie quiet- apart from the faint sound of someone breathing heavily. Still shaking, Y/N treaded delicately forward until she sighted Terry standing in the middle of the room by the small couch, his back to her.

“I thought I told you not to come in here until I called you,” he snapped, his shoulders rising up and down with the force of his breath. His hair was swept into a ponytail, but it looked askew- loose locks floating at random on both sides of his head.

“Terry?” Y/N approached him timidly, struggling to speak over her knotted-up stomach.

At the sound of her voice, Terry spun around. Y/N froze. Surprise briefly flickered across his face before he brought his expression back to its typical calculated control. “You’re home early, darling,” he murmured, forcing enough of a smile that it would appear he was pleased to see her.

“I… I finished up my projects for the week…” Y/N trailed off, taking in the rest of Terry’s unusual appearance. His face glistened with sweat and one side looked like it was smeared with…

“W-what’s that?” she gasped, eyes widening as she gestured to his face.

Terry lifted a hand to his cheek, and when he lowered it, he studied the dark red that had transferred to the pad of his finger. He would have to think fast.

“You’re bleeding.”

As Y/N neared Terry, he tried to guide her away from where he’d been by the couch, but it was too late. As she grew close enough to just barely see around the front of the couch, her eyes went to an unfamiliar object on the ground.

It was a man’s shoe. With a foot in it.

Terry was silent as Y/N screamed, stumbling back in horror as her gaze traveled further up and recognized Brian, crumpled up on the floor in a heap of blood.

Terry caught her as she fell and attempted to gather her into his arms, but she thrashed against his hold.

“Get the hell away from me- don’t touch me! Don't fucking touch me!” Even though he was far stronger than her, he allowed her to push him away. He spoke in a measured, low tone.

“Listen. I didn’t want you to have to see this…”

“You are so sick,” she choked out, tears spilling down her cheeks, eying him like he was an uncaged wild animal.

“Sick with love for you, yes,” he replied bluntly, slightly tilting his head and giving a small shrug.

“No, you’re a monster; you are evil and vile and perverted…” she sobbed.

“Well, don’t stop there. Go ahead. Tell me more, sweetheart.” Terry’s tone was flat but his gaze was unflinchingly intense. She recoiled. “What did you expect me to do? Did you really think I was going to stand aside and do nothing, knowing that my wife spends every day looking over her shoulder and living in fear, getting preyed on like a piece of meat? Besides, I told you- a threat to you is a threat to me. I protect what’s mine.”

He tried to grab ahold of her again and she tried to wrestle blindly out of his arms, her vision blurred by tears, the anger at being betrayed, and the stomach-turning fear of what he was really capable of, no matter how much of a mellow act he could put on. But, this time, he didn’t allow her to push him away.

“Why the hell are you crying? You didn’t even like this worthless piece of shit- he hurt you and he got exactly what he deserved!”

She was supposed to be relieved- she also wasn’t supposed to see the body or find out Brian had been murdered- but there was no undoing it. Terry roughly gripped her by the chin, confused frustration overtaking his better judgement as he forced her to look at the body seeping blood all over the office carpet.

“Now, look at that. You’ll never hear another filthy word from that mouth,” he whispered gently, the side of his face pressed to hers, gesturing to Brian’s battered facial features. “Those hands will never touch you again.” Terry pointed out the amalgamation of blood and broken bone at the end of each of the man’s arms.

Y/N was able to free her chin, slippery from tears, from Terry’s grip, stomping one of his feet and elbowing him in the ribcage hard. He could have easily kept his hold on her and subdued her but decided it would be best to allow her a couple of minutes to calm down. He would repay her for the blows and the ungratefulness another time.

Terry reminded himself that Y/N, unlike himself, was totally inexperienced when it came to violence, blood, and guts. Doing what had to be done. She took the path of least resistance even at her own expense. But this was a start; something he could work with.

Alarmed by the commotion inside the office, having overheard the conversation but hesitating to interrupt, Vince and a member of the maintenance staff finally crept inside of the room, looking at Terry expectantly.

“Clean this room from top to bottom,” Terry directed, waving his finger offhandedly in the general direction of the couch before stalking past them. As he thought about where Y/N was likely to have gone, he wiped the sticky droplets of blood from his face.

After escaping Terry, Y/N had run straight to the master bathroom to be sick. Slumped over the toilet, she heaved violently, feeling worse than she ever had in her life, coming down from the pure shock and experiencing a gouging pain in her chest. She hoped with everything in her that Terry would leave her alone, but she knew he was likely only moments behind. And sure enough, she soon heard the door open behind her and felt his body close to her again. Forced to either vomit all over the room or remain clutching the toilet (and choosing the latter) it was impossible to shy away from his suffocating touch.

He knelt next to her on the tile, delicately stroking her back with one hand and holding her hair out of her face with the other.

“Darling, just try to breathe. Try to relax your stomach,” he cooed, wholly unphased by the disgusting sights and sounds before him as she weakly tried and failed to push him off. “That’s it, let it all out. I’ve got you…”

When Y/N appeared to be finished retching for the time being, Terry brought her so that her back was flush with his chest and his own back was propped up against the wall. He snaked an arm over the counter of the bathroom vanity, grabbing a towel to wipe her face with. She burst into tears again, undoing his work, laying helpless as he cradled her.

“N-no…” she groaned faintly.

She was too exhausted and defeated to fight him anymore. Caged by his long arms and legs, she just sobbed into his warm chest, feeling the vibrations of his voice.

“Everything will be alright now. You’re safe with me.”

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artist-issues · 10 months ago

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If all of the Disney Princesses live in Snow White's world, do you think the Magic Mirror would still declare Snow White as "The Fairest One of All"?

Yes, I do. I think Snow White is Fairest of All because her beauty is the outward version of her purity and innocence. And there’s no other Disney Princess who has more purity and innocence than Snow White.

I mean, the closest you could get, story-wise, would be Aurora. She’s magically gifted with rare beauty that’s symbolic of the rebirth of springtime. That’s quite the beauty classification!

She’s pretty innocent and pure, too—the tiniest glimpse that she might not be as pure as Snow White is the fact that she’s willing to complain about her lot in life, or about the fairies being overprotective, and has a little mischief in her. But even that is kind of a stretch.

What isn’t a stretch, though, is Snow White being so full of love to give that it splashes everywhere. Aurora’s scenes with the animals are all about her confiding in them and playing with them. But Snow White is decidedly motherly with her animal friends. She doesn’t just get their friendship and company—she gives. She teaches them how to clean, and helps them when they’re lost, that sort of thing. Even more loving with the Dwarfs.

So Snow White does good, and that’s part of the beauty of what’s inside of her causing her outside appearance to be beautiful. Aurora, as wonderful as she is, doesn’t do a lot of good. She makes very few decisions that show how loving and kind she can be.

Other than being respectful and obedient and obviously super-fond of her fairy caretakers. It takes a special kind of love to obey three old women who tell you that you have to abandon all your animal friends and the one true love you just met to run a kingdom, instead. I would’ve said “no, I’m not going, and here are all my suppressed bitter feelings about how you keep treating me like a child.”

But even though she’s devastated, she gives up the dream that just came true and fulfills her role as crown princess, instead. I don’t want anyone walking away from this post seeing any shade thrown on Aurora. The purpose of her character was very symbolic.

She wasn’t supposed to grow and change. She wasn’t even supposed to inspire change in others. She was supposed to represent Value. That’s it. She’s precious to everyone around her. She’s worth protecting, sacrificing for, and saving. She’s everyone’s daughter, everyone’s dearest, she’s all the gentleness and beauty and hope for the future, personified.

I could do another post analyzing Sleeping Beauty (though to be honest with you, it’s such an old and incredible fairy tale that I’d be a little intimidated.) But anywho, to answer this question, Snow White would still be Fairest of All because, I think, in the story, ther purity and innocence is what makes her so outwardly beautiful, and none of the other princesses are as pure or innocent. Aurora and Cinderella come close, and then Belle.

EDIT: It would be cool to see them all in one place, though, wouldn’t it? Not for, like, Pocket Princess antics or anything like that. Or anything too sprawly and intertwined, like Once Upon a Time. But if there were a way to neatly, carefully tell a story with that many princesses, and what they inspire in others, and why they befriend and what they teach to one another…without it being a total talking-head-fest…that would be neat.

#Sleeping beauty #Snow White #Belle #beauty and the beast #asked #answered #AU #princesses #Disney princesses #Disney AU #fairest of them all #magic mirror

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helios-writings · 1 year ago

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Pairing: Iida Tenya x Reader Warnings: None

The library was mostly empty as you sat down at one of the tables, polishing off the finishing touches on your essay that was due in a few days. Your music was playing quietly in your ears, so you didn’t disturb any of the few people in the room with you.

Someone tapped you on the shoulder, and you yanked one of the earbuds out. “Excuse me, can I sit here?”

He was talking about the seat across from you, and it kind of made you a little peeved that he would choose right there when the other surrounding tables were empty, but you didn’t tell him that. Instead, you beamed up at him.

“Sure, go right ahead.”

He thanked you and went to walk away, before turning around to face you again. “I’m Iida Tenya, I believe we share one of our classes together.”

Your eyes widened in recognition. “Oh yeah! You sit up at the front, right?”

Iida nodded as he finally sat across from you. “Yes, and you sit at the back.”

“Are you here working on your essay?” You asked, gesturing to his laptop.

“Here to edit it, actually, I finished just a few days ago.”

“Me too! Hey, how about we edit each others?”

He pushed his glasses up as he considered your idea. “I suppose editing each other's works would be more efficient in the long run, so why not?”

You swapped computers and got to editing, occasionally sneaking looks at Iida’s face while he wasn’t looking.

He was cute, very cute, and he furrowed his brows when he was deep in thought, you were glad you let him sit with you.

Iida finished editing in what almost seemed like record time, while you hadn’t even made it halfway through.

You flushed, embarrassed while he waited for you to finish, but he didn’t seem to mind waiting, just pulled out another assignment and started working on it. A few minutes(and a few quick glances at your table mate) later, you were finished and you beamed as you started rattling off praise for his essay.

“Your words flow really nicely together, and your grammar is impeccable. I don’t think there’s much to critique about your essay, Iida.”

His cheeks were red as he avoided your gaze. “N-nonsense! There’s always room for improvement when schoolwork is involved.”

You knew he wouldn’t accept your compliments on his work unless you could find something to criticize about it, even though there really wasn’t anything wrong with it. His stubbornness was cute.

“Uhh, I guess your closing statement was a little weak.”

He nodded. “I see, thank you for your honest opinion. I appreciate it.”

“And how was mine?”

“Perfect, I can’t see how you would score any less than 100 percent!”

You resisted the urge to give him a dirty look, essentially telling you what you had told him, but you didn’t. Instead, you glanced at the clock on the wall.

“Hey, would you like to go get a coffee with me?”

His eyes widened by just a fraction and then he pushed up his glasses to hide his shock. “Well, I suppose it wouldn’t hurt, I do find your company relaxing.”

You smiled as you packed up your things. “Thanks! I think you’re pretty great too. I can't believe we’ve never really talked before.”

“Agreed, but better late than never.”

The two of you walked to the nearby cafe very closely, you could feel his body against your arm, warming you up from the cool spring day. He was very animated while he talked, expressive eyebrows and hand gestures that, while didn’t really convey what was happening in his story, made him all the more interesting to listen to. You couldn’t believe you hadn’t known him for more than a few hours but felt yourself already pulled into his orbit.

Iida pulled your chair out for you after you ordered at the counter(a hot latte for you and a simple black coffee for himself), and then settled in himself. The atmosphere between the two of you was different, but not awkward.

“Forgive me if I’m being too forward but,” he started, looking at his clasped hands, “is this a date?”

Your cheeks were hot and your eyes were wide, but you didn’t say no. “It could be. Unless you don’t want it to be, then we can just be two classmates having coffee!”

You were so awkward you wanted to die, but he didn’t seem to notice.

“I would like very much for it to be a date. You see, I had intended to ask you in the library, but I panicked.”

You laughed a little, amused. “Well, I would’ve said yes.”

He beamed. “I must admit, I don’t know what dates are like.”

“We can find out together.”

The two of you sat at the cafe for what seemed like hours, swapping stories and just talking about whatever crossed your mind, and when Iida asked to hold your hand, you said yes.

#character☀️: iida tenya #fandom☀️: bnha #iida tenya x reader #iida tenya x you #bnha x reader #bnha x you #mha x reader #mha x you #my hero academia x reader #my hero academia x you #boku no hero x reader #boku no hero x you #reader insert #sunbathing with: iida #daylightarchive #drabble

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marlynnofmany · 1 year ago

Text

There’s No Aggression Like Passive Aggression

“So is this a food plant, or a decoration plant?” I asked, adjusting my grip on the clear case as I walked. “Or do we know?”

Zhee flicked an antenna. “Not my business.” He faced forward, businesslike, but with bug eyes that size, there was no need to turn his head.

Paint looked up from elbow height. “I think it’s food,” she said, giving the package a discerning stare. The alien flowers were a similar orange to her scales. “I’ve seen these at markets before. They’re expensive.”

“Makes sense,” I said. The private estate that we’d been walking across for some time now was covered in the most rigidly cultivated berry bushes I’d ever seen. Even the pathway was paved in thick moss, pruned to within an inch of its life. The owner of this place had both money and a fondness for plants. Especially edible-looking ones.

A berry dropped to the path ahead of us, then was snapped up by something that darted out of the undergrowth. I couldn’t tell you if it was an animal or a robotic gardener.

“Don’t ask the client,” Zhee said. “Keep that curiosity to yourself. Best behavior and extreme politeness.”

“Right,” I agreed. “Soooo… any tips on what that means for this particular culture? I haven’t met them before.”

Zhee walked stiffly, with only his shiny purple legs moving. “I haven’t either.”

I blinked. “What? I thought you were the expert.” I looked to Paint, but she was shaking her head.

“None of the crew has met them in person,” she said. “I think this whole area usually gets deliveries from a specific company, or individual, or something — anyways, it’s not us. We’re the last-minute replacement.”

“Uh-huh.” I held the bio-shielded case full of expensive plants a little tighter. “So they’re rich, probably important, and if we do anything to displease them, we’ll never make another delivery in this part of the system again.”

Zhee clicked a pincher arm. “Accurate.”

Paint spread her scaly hands in what was probably a calming gesture. “It shouldn’t be that bad,” she said. “We’ll just hand the package over quietly, and not make a fuss. We know some things about the client.”

“Do tell,” I said. “I wasn’t up front when the captain took the call.”

Paint ticked off points by counting on her knuckles. “The client is the only one who lives here, though she throws big parties. She didn’t seem to like talking more than necessary. She has very fancy fur patterns. Prey species.” Paint looked up a bit guiltily. “I misses the name of the species, but they eat plants, and evolved with some big predators that aren’t a problem anymore. Captain Sunlight said so.”

Zhee made a quiet noise that I interpreted as confidence that they wouldn’t have been a problem for him anyways.

“So I guess we’ll be polite by keeping quiet and not making any sudden movements,” I said. Then I looked at Zhee, with his shiny exoskeleton and natural blade arms. “If she looks afraid of you, hang back.”

Zhee scoffed, but paused to let Paint and me get a single step ahead.

We reached an archway woven with multicolored vines and dangling pea pods. The hedges on either side were crisply trimmed to an absurd degree. And through it was a sprawling meadow of lounging spots, fountains, and flowering trees. Dozens of locals socialized there in absolute silence. I hadn’t heard a thing aside from the fountains.

I froze at the archway, with Paint and Zhee right beside me. A couple of the closest partygoers glanced our way, then ignored us with body language that felt pretty rude, honestly.

They all had elaborately-patterned fur: mostly spots and swirls, in the gold-to-brown range. Proportions that seemed just as comfortable on all fours as on two. Tall ears like many a prey animal that I’d known, very mobile and expressive, speaking a language of tilts and twitches that I could only guess at. Big eyes.

Paint whispered, “That’s her by the big fountain, with the starburst swirl patterns.”

“Which? Oh, there. You’re sure?” Those definitely were some fancy patterns — did she get her fur dyed? — and the cushy spot surrounded by red berries did seem like a place of honor.

“Yes, I saw her on the call,” Paint said firmly. “Oh, and that one too! The captain said they’re having some sort of feud.” She pointed at an especially bright-furred party-goer who was approaching the host.

I shifted uneasily. “Why isn’t the captain doing this delivery?” I muttered.

“Busy,” said Zhee.

Paint sighed. “Busy. But look; I think they made up. We should be clear to approach.”

The golden-blonde local had strolled over to within a few lengths of the host, then flopped down to lounge in the sun, looking just as relaxed as anyone there.

Anyone but the host. I saw her nostrils flare, and thought of rabbits.

“Wait,” I said urgently, holding out a hand. Paint and Zhee stopped. “That might be a ‘I’m a happier rabbit than you’ move.”

“A what,” Zhee said, just as the host scrambled to her feet with an angry thump to the ground.

Every head there whipped around to watch. The blonde offender was also getting to her feet, but not fast enough; the host tackled her into a vicious tumble of fur and angry screeching.

Others dashed over, but the fight ended quickly, and the offender was ejected from the party. A half dozen others escorted her towards the archway with tense body language of their own.

We were still standing there like idiots. Paint and I jumped to one side and Zhee to the other, letting the procession pass. Once they had, everyone was looking at us instead.

Not my best entrance, but here goes, I thought as I stepped forward with the plant held front and center. I heard Paint and Zhee fall in behind me.

There was an unnerving amount of silent staring as we approached, but nothing outright hostile, and nobody seemed afraid of Zhee. Good enough.

The host of the party was back on her mossy cushion, plucking berries and eating them one at a time with an air of deliberate haughtiness. She’d smoothed her fur, though there were a few damp spots. She looked past me as I set down the case.

Normally I would have said something cheerful to the client at this point, a friendly greeting, maybe a compliment or two, but this time I just held out the ID pad. With hardly a glance, she pressed her delicately clawed hand onto the screen. The beep of confirmation felt loud.

I nodded, stood smoothly, then backed up a couple paces before turning away fully. The three of us made our careful way back through the archway.

“Whew,” I whispered once we were out of sight. “All the friendliness of a firing squad.”

Zhee walked ahead, muttering about mammals and unnecessarily complicated social rituals.

“I’ve seen worse,” I told him. “This was just a bit of passive-aggressive ego drama.”

Zhee waved an arm in disdain.

I didn’t comment on the kind of ego drama that he himself was fond of.

“I’m just glad we didn’t walk out into the middle of all that,” Paint said.

“Seriously,” I agreed. “Might have dropped the package. And then what would we do?”

“Pee, scream, and run,” Paint declared.

I thought of that many gnawing teeth aimed in our direction. “Yeah, probably.” I held up a hand and pointed out a tiny pale scar. “I got bit by a rabbit once. Well, more than once, but this one left a mark. She was much like these guys, just a lot smaller. Every inch the princess, mind you, but I have known some very nice rabbits too.”

I told Paint comforting stories on the walk back to the landing pad, with Zhee pretending not to listen, and both of us pretending that we didn’t notice.

~~~

The ongoing backstory adventures of the main character from this book. More to come!

#my writing #the Token Human #humans are weird #haso #hfy #eiad #thanks to that post a little while ago about rabbit body language #ideas come from everywhere

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tala-bez-i · 10 days ago

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At first sight II Chapter Seventeen

(m!reader x Bonten!Haruchiyo Sanzu)

Fluff/slash/reader is male/cursing/BontenTimeline/drugs and alcohol mentioned/violence/blood/death

All characters that appeared in the Tokyo Revengers manga and anime belong to Ken Wakui.

Words: 3506

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You knocked gently on the door of room 7, and when the light above the number pad changed from red to green, you pressed the handle and entered.

The room was neither large nor overly small, and at the end of it was a large window that took up almost the entire wall, giving VIP guests a perfect view of the dance floor, the DJ podium, and the bar in the corner. The glass was slightly darkened, letting you know that a special foil had been used to block outside viewing, which was a great solution considering what could happen in such rooms.

Music blared from a set of speakers placed in various places around the room and you noticed that it was turned down, for which you were grateful.

The room itself was dark, with only the colored lights of the dance hall occasionally sweeping through the interior, giving you some sense of where each piece of furniture in the room was located.

You noticed that in the middle of the room there was a rounded couch, similar to the one you saw in the previous nightclub Tomoko had taken you to, and with another flash of colored lights, you saw a figure sitting, or rather almost half-lying, who you assumed was watching what was going on below.

Suddenly, the smell of cigarette smoke reached your nostrils, suggesting that the figure had lit a cigarette, and you moved closer.

“What do you want?” The figure asked, moving his hand away from his face, and as you got closer, you saw the glowing end of a cigarette.

“I need to inform you of a complication in the Takenaka case.” You said, deciding that you had to tell the truth. “I’m not working on it.”

“Hmm.” Sanzu hummed, taking another drag on his cigarette. He was calm, suspiciously calm. "What did you do to cause this to happen?"

“Nothing special. Other cases piled up and we were divided into teams. Each team was given a different case.”

“Who’s working on Takenakas?”

“Two good detectives, they have more experience on the job than me and my partner.”

“More experience, huh?” The man laughed. “You’re totally useless. As usual.”

That hurt. “I have permission from the commander that if they don’t solve the case by Friday, I’ll take it over.”

“Oh? Until Friday? Do you think you have that much time?” The man’s tone was a little sharper, but it still wasn’t the reaction you were expecting.

“We don't have anything better. I don't even know what stage they're at right now.” You admitted and began to roam the dark room with your eyes, trying to see as much detail as possible in the flashes of colored light. “I thought about whether we could complicate things a bit. You know, Sanzu, just to make sure they don't make it by Friday.”

The man shifted slightly in his seat, turning his head in your direction.

“Do you want to sabotage your fellow detectives?” He asked, slightly amused.

“Wouldn’t be the first time in my career.” You answered truthfully and the gangster took a slow drag on his cigarette.

He exhaled slowly and clicked his tongue. “Something’s going to be arranged.”

Your eyes caught sight of a figure huddled at one end of the couch and you thought it was the guest Riku had mentioned.

“I didn’t know you weren’t alone.” You lied and the man looked in the right direction.

“Pay no attention to her. She's asleep.”

“Asleep? In your company?”

“Why not? She's tired.” He said calmly, but you could tell by the tone of his voice that he was smiling cheekily. “Tell me, L/n. How did you know where to find me?”

“I have my ways.” You lied smoothly, not taking your eyes off the woman's figure. Something was bothering you. “Is she here of her own free will?”

“What are you suggesting?” He asked, slightly irritated. “None of your fucking business, L/n.”

“Sanzu.”

“I don’t have to explain anything to you. These bitches will do anything for drugs and money, she’s a regular chick.” He growled, taking another drag on his cigarette.

You looked at him when he moved, but Haruchiyo just put his feet on the table where there were several empty alcohol bottles and two glasses. One still had liquor in it.

“I don't suspect you of anything. That's not why I came here.” You said calmly, so as not to irritate him further. “When I meet with anyone from Bonten, I don't come as a police officer.”

“Anyone from Bonten?” The other snorted, putting out his cigarette in the ashtray he had next to him. He reached for a nearby bottle and took out two pills, which he swallowed without drinking. “What the fuck are you talking about? You saw us once and that was only because Tomoko arranged a meeting for you.”

So, the syndicate's number two still didn't know anything... Funny.

You sighed quietly and, driven by a bad feeling, slowly approached the woman in the room.

“What are you doing?”

You ignored the pink-haired man and touched the woman's face. There was no reaction, and when you turned her head gently towards the flickering lights, you saw her blank gaze. Her lipstick was smudged, and a trail of what you assumed was dried vomit ran from the corner of her mouth to her chin.

“Sanzu, did you give her anything?”

“I mentioned she was sleeping, right?” The other grumbled in response. “She got fucked for a dose of drugs. Same as usual.”

You checked the woman’s pulse and looked at your interlocutor. “Call your guys.”

“For the hell of it?”

“She’s dead. Overdosed.” You replied calmly.

At first Sanzu stared at you as if you had made a very tasteless joke, but after a moment he jumped up from his place on the couch, knocking one of the glasses with his foot, which shattered on the floor and rushing over to you to see what you were talking about.

“Fuck, fuck.” He cursed when he realized you were telling the truth. “She took the usual amount. The usual amount.” He went back to where he had left the bottle of drugs and poured its contents onto the table. He counted the pills a few times and cursed as loudly as you had heard only a few times in your life. “That bitch! She took more than I let her!”

“Uh-huh.” You looked at the woman again. She overdosed herself, but you were sure that if she didn't take a larger dose right away, once Sanzu figured out how much he had left, she would still be severely punished. Maybe she would have ended up dead anyway. “Call the guys, we need to clean this up.”

“It's because of you.” He growled, reaching for his phone. “Everything has been fucked up since your name was mentioned.”

Ouch... “Did you know her long?”

“Fuck you.” Came the reply and he gave a few commands into the phone before putting it in his pants pocket.

“Sanzu, I need to know. Who could be looking for her? How easy is it to connect her to you? Who saw you together?” You started asking the standard questions, looking around for the woman's purse or phone to secure.

“A lot of people know she was hanging around me for drugs.” The man gave you his answer after a short while.

He walked over to the body and took the expensive necklace off the woman's neck, then unplugged the earrings from her ears.

"What are you doing?" You asked, seeing what you thought was an unusual behavior from the man, but you couldn't be sure this time.

"She got them today." He replied, putting the jewelry in the pocket of his jacket, which was lying on the back of the couch. "Nobody saw her in this."

Your heart pounded as you realized that there had to be more to it than just sex for drugs, otherwise Haruchiyo wouldn't have bought the woman such an expensive gift.

"What if she took pictures and sent them to her friends?" You asked and the man froze for a moment before he walked to the other end of the couch and pulled out a small women's purse from behind the cushion, from which he pulled out her phone.

He unlocked it without any problem and began searching through it. "Fuck. She took pictures, but didn't have time to send them to anyone. At least that much." He said with relief, turning the device off completely.

“Did you use protection?”

“Who the fuck do you think I am? An idiot?” Sanzu turned his head sharply in your direction and you shrugged.

“Sometimes there’s no time for this…”

“Yeah, I had a condom.” He quickly walked over to a small trash bin that was in the corner of the room, near the door, and began rummaging through it. “Fuck. This was supposed to be a regular night at the club, not this shit.”

You watched him for a moment, your thoughts increasingly turning to what could really connect him to the now-dead woman.

Before the time-leaps, Sanzu had relationships with all sorts of women, both lasting more than two months and less than a week. It often happened that you yourself suggested various girls to him who could fit the gangster's requirements, and more than once he managed to build something out of it.

Too bad everything usually went downhill because of Haruchiyo's instability and sick jealousy. Well, maybe not counting that one student that Sanzu had to get rid of by force and ultimately...

Finally the pink haired man found what he was looking for and cursed.

“Pass me the lighter.” He threw over his shoulder and you knew what he was planning.

“That’s probably not the best idea.” You said as you walked up to him with said lighter in your hand. “The smoke detectors might go off.”

“Should I take all the trash, seriously?” He asked, irritated, and you looked inside the trash can.

“There isn’t much. A paper bag will do, or we can just take the whole bag.”

“You carry it.” He answered you after a few seconds, and you put your lighter away, grateful that the man had made a more sensible decision.

Suddenly, someone knocked on the door of the room, and after a second, there was a quiet sound suggesting that the lock had been unlocked with a magnetic card, and the two security guards you had dealt with earlier entered. One of them pulled a large suitcase behind him. Large enough for the woman's body to fit without any major problems.

"Everything's ready, boss." One of them said, and the other guy calmly walked over to the couch, opened the suitcase, and tied the woman's hair up, as you guessed, to prevent it from getting caught in the lid of the suitcase or to simply not leave any hair behind. “We'll take her out the back exit. Are you coming with us, boss, or…”

“Yes.” Sanzu replied quickly and went to the couch to put on his jacket. He gathered his things and turned to you. “Pack the bottles and glasses. Especially the broken one. She drank from it.”

For a split second you couldn’t believe your ears how freely and calmly he gave you orders, but you were even more surprised by your own obedience, because you were just finishing carefully putting the glass into a garbage bag.

“Shit.” One of the security guards cursed and looked from you to Sanzu. “She won’t fit much, boss.”

“Do something to make it work. We don't have anything better.” Said the gangster and you knew perfectly well what would happen next.

“Can I?”

“We have to. We have to get rid of her completely anyway.”

The words had barely left Sanzu's mouth when the sound of her arm and leg bones breaking was heard, causing a slight sense of disgust in you. You had to admit to yourself that you were no longer used to it.

You used to do this type of stuff yourself and many much worse ones, but with time-leap everything has changed. Well, maybe most of it...

There was a quiet click of a suitcase being closed and you were all ready to leave room 7 when the man you had come here to meet smiled cruelly at you.

"L/n. Are you here by car?"

"Yes."

“Excellent.” The smile never left his face, and the glint in his eyes and the scars at the corners of his mouth made him seem more menacing. You had a feeling where this was headed. “Then, for my own safety and as insurance for the future, you’ll come with us. You’ll be my driver tonight, and believe me, if you try to twist things and use this whole thing against me…” He gestured to the suitcase. “You can be sure I’ll return the favor and strike much sooner than you. All you have to do is give me the opportunity.”

You looked at him in silence for a moment, completely unsurprised by what he had just said.

You smiled and tightened your grip on the garbage bag you were holding.

“I didn’t expect anything less. Let’s not waste any more time.”

As soon as you stepped outside the nightclub, where a lot of people were still having a great time, two security guards with a suitcase headed towards a black car parked nearby, which didn't seem to be eye-catching, but immediately suggested to you that it belonged to the underworld. Or maybe you just knew what to look for because of your profession and experience.

“So, where's your limo?” Sanzu joked and you led him out of the alley you were in, and after a moment you pointed out your mid-range Toyota. “Seriously?” He asked, not hiding his disappointment, then burst out laughing. “You drive this?”

“The important thing is that it drives and, to be honest, it's trouble-free. I haven't had any problems with it since I bought it, which was almost eight years.”

“Your first car, hmm?” He asked as you stepped closer and unlocked the door. “Ah, almost like first love, huh?”

You involuntarily compared the man standing next to you to the car and in a split second you decided that this was a very, very bad idea...

“Let's say something like that... Yeah.” You mumbled and Haruchiyo got into the vehicle from the passenger side.

You threw the bag of trash on the floor in the back of the car and got behind the wheel.

“Where are we going?”

“Stay close to my guys. They know where to go.” The pink-haired man replied shortly and after a moment you began to drive behind said car.

Out of the corner of your eye you noticed Sanzu sitting as comfortably as he could and gently running his finger over his buckled seatbelt. For a moment you felt as if nothing had changed.

As if none of the time-leaps had ever happened, but...

“You know I can take you down at any moment, right?” Sanzu asked after a few minutes, watching the road through the window.

“I'm aware of that, yes.” You replied calmly, and out of the corner of your eye you noticed the man moving. When you looked at him, you noticed he was watching you. “What?”

“You’re not scared?”

“No. Not right now.”

“Because you’re driving?” He asked and when you looked back at him you noticed he had his gun on his thighs.

“Because I have Mikey’s word that until I complete the task assigned to me, I’m safe.” You replied, focusing on driving again.

You pulled onto the highway and judging by the direction Bonten’s car had taken, you figured it would be a longer trip. You could bet you were headed to the waterfront.

“Mikey could always change his mind.” Sanzu said very casually and you nodded.

“You didn’t have time to inform him of the complications.”

“Tsk... He could always change his mind sooner. Like right after you left that night.”

“True, but tell me one thing, Sanzu, but honestly.” You looked at him again. “You would wait that long to kill me? Apart from the fact that you were in my apartment.”

Haruchiyo was silent for a moment, his face set in stone, before he holstered his gun under his jacket and laughed quietly, resting his head comfortably against the headrest of the passenger seat.

“No. I wouldn't wait a minute.”

“Thank you for being honest.” You sighed quietly, focusing on driving behind the car again. “The waterfront?”

“Hmm?”

“You want to drown her?”

“Ah... Why not?”

“Don't you have, so to speak, a contract with an incinerator?”

“L/n... She was my ex, not trash.” He said, feigning indignation, which you shrugged off. “Okay, maybe she was trash... To some extent, but I almost pulled her out of her own shit.”

Unbelievable. “Just to drown her in yours?”

“Hey. Watch your mouth.” Sanzu's tone was sharper, but it didn't last long. “Now that you've met mine, when should I drop by to meet your little lady?” He chuckled. “Her safety would be a good safeguard for you to get the job done, don't you think?”

You winced slightly, but it didn't go unnoticed by the gangster riding with you.

“Oh, no kidding. L/n.”

“Yeah, looks like you're late.”

“No, no, no.” He leaned toward you. “That doesn't change anything. Your feelings for her must still be strong. It's still a good idea.”

“Uh... No. She's pushed it too hard. No way.” You pursed your lips. “I wouldn't worry about it too much.”

“Fuck.” The other mumbled. “I thought you were the good guy, and here you are... It's like I'm hearing the old you.”

“Maybe I haven't changed as much as you think, hmm?” You threw him a quick glance. “Garbage incinerator.”

“What?”

“There's still a chance to change direction.” You said calmly. “There'll be an exit in a few minutes that'll get us where we need to be. I'll take it upon myself.”

“Do you have any dealings with the incinerator?” Sanzu asked warily.

If only one, thanks to you... “Trust me. There won't be a trace of her.”

“How can I trust you? You're in the police. We live in two different worlds and follow completely different codes in life...”

“Really?” You asked quietly. “So what am I doing here, offering you another way to get rid of the problem?”

“You're baiting me.”

“You have a gun, a mental disorder, and two bodyguards. You can get rid of me too and it will be over.”

“Mikey hasn’t changed his mind.” Sanzu reminded you and you nodded, letting him know you knew that perfectly well. “Where did you get the connections at the waste incinerator?”

“I helped someone and maybe paid a not-so-exorbitant price... Maybe mentioning a few words about Bonten...” You started to explain, but at the mention of the syndicate Sanzu’s hand shot out in your direction and you felt the cold barrel of a gun on your temple. “With the consent of whomever it takes, of course.”

“Who?” The other one growled.

“Ask your buddies. Where the hell am I supposed to get the money to pay whoever needs it from the waste incinerator?”

“I don’t know anything about that.”

“Ask them later. Now let the security guards know we’re not going to the waterfront.”

“Fuck you. You won't tell me what to do.”

You held your breath, waiting for the shot, but at that same moment, as if a sign from God, the pink-haired gangster’s phone rang. He cursed and fished his cell phone out of his jacket pocket with his other hand.

“What do you want?” He asked nervously, but all you could hear was a male voice you couldn’t identify. “What the fuck are you talking about, Kokonoi?”

Ah, Koko... Thank you...

“And how the fuck do you know he was at the club, huh?” The man started to move his gun away from your temple. “What? Nowhere. Huh?...” Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed he put the safety on the gun and put his hand on his thighs again. Could it be...? “Yeah. Okay, I get it. Fuck...” He hung up, then immediately dialed another number. “Get off the highway at the next exit. Change destination.”

He put his phone in his pocket and you rode in silence for a while.

You kept wondering what Kokonoi had told him that made the gangster listen without much protest.

“Tomorrow at the same time as usual and in the same place as always, there will be a package waiting for you from Kokonoi.” Sanzu finally said in a voice that sounded rather dry. “What the fuck is going on, L/n?”

“After today's adventure, I guess you'll have to ask your leader that question.” You answered him calmly. “You have to find out about everything. It's about time."

#tokyo revengers #tokyo revengers x y/n #male reader #tokyo revengers haruchiyo sanzu #haruchiyo sanzu #haruchiyo sanzu x reader

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itzynabi · 8 months ago

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warnings: mention of suicidal ideation

an: this was posted on the 4th of april, 2024

ITZY’s Nabi vs JYP Entertainment: Full Breakdown of Second Day in Court

It was heavy

On April 4, ITZY’s Nabi’s lawsuit against JYP Entertainment saw its second day in court. Both Nabi and JYP Entertainment’s CEO, Jimmy Jeong, were present.

JYP Entertainment opened the trial by calling forth a witness, Witness A, one of the staff members that worked with Nabi on her first full album until spring. The lawyer asked Witness A a few questions about what it was like to work with Nabi, and the staff member alleged that Nabi would show attitude to some staff members, wouldn’t have manners, and would ignore staff members. He went on to say it made working on the album very hard as he had to communicate through her manager.

Nabi’s lawyer was then given time to question Witness A and she did not hold back! She started by asking a few questions about what he does in the company and the specifics of his job. Witness A explained his job in detail and then Nabi’s lawyer asked him if he had ever had lunch with Director Park Dakho, to which he denied. Nabi’s lawyer then pulled up text messages between the witness and another staff member, where they were talking about a lunch they had with Director Park.

Staff Member A: Isn’t it a bit weird how Director Park told us to stall the album? I thought he wanted Nabi’s album to make him a lot of money

Staff Member B (Witness): Yeah, but doing that will get us money so………… Let’s do it enthusiastically!

Reporters said the witness started stuttering over his words and looked to JYP Entertainment’s lawyer for assistance. Luckily for him, that was the only question Nabi’s lawyer had. Unfortunately for him, everything he said beforehand was brought into question as he had been easily proven to be a liar. The witness was allowed to go back to his seat and Nabi’s lawyer called their witness, Nabi’s therapist.

Nabi’s defence team focused on how her treatment at JYP Entertainment affected her mental health, something she has expressed struggling with. Nabi’s therapist, Witness B, worked with her before she debuted, then they stopped having sessions because Nabi was feeling better and was too busy to go to therapy, then they started seeing each other again in early 2022. Witness B commented how because Nabi was very busy, they had been unable to have sessions, instead resorting to messaging each other and sending each other voice messages. Nabi’s lawyers asked Witness B to give a basic summary of Nabi’s feelings.

“Everytime Nabi has periods of time where her life consists of just working, her mental health takes a dip. It happened in 2021 and 2022. Nabi is a very sensitive person, her emotions are very strong. When she’s sad, she doesn’t just feel a slight sadness that she can get over, she’s consumed by the sadness to the point she doesn’t remember a time she was happy. The same thing happens when she’s happy, angry, insecure, and stressed. She can have five panic attacks in one day because of how overwhelmed she feels. She’s not someone that responds well to being spoken to sharply.” — Witness B

Nabi’s lawyer presented the idol’s diary as evidence, asking Witness B to analyse what Nabi had written. Most of the diary entries were of Nabi expressing her anger, hurt, and hopelessness. In her diary, Nabi said she was “sick of the whole thing.” Witness B mentioned that most of their texts the past few months had been about how to manage her feelings regarding the situation she was forced into, adding that Nabi often expressed that she felt like a zoo animal meant to perform tricks on command. A particularly worrying diary entry of Nabi’s was shown.

“what to say…………… death sounds okay. i hope something bad happens to me so i dont have to perform. sorry to the staff members that spent so much time on this but like at the end of the day this isnt worth it. i wonder if death would be kinder to me than this hell. i hope it would be. one day i’ll find out. but not soon. maybe” — Nabi’s diary entry

Witness B confirmed that she had spoken with Nabi about such thoughts, the two even called each other to talk about it in depth, the session ending with Nabi feeling slightly better. Nabi’s lawyer ended by asking what Witness B thought would be the best conclusion for Nabi, with Witness B saying, “I think if Nabi stays in JYP Entertainment, it could be very dangerous. Not only would her mental state get worse, but the treatment she had to endure could get more volatile. If she stays in JYP Entertainment, there could be unfortunate news within a few months.”

Nabi’s lawyer ended her questioning there, giving JYP Entertainment’s lawyer a chance to question Witness B. They started by pointing out that contrary to what had been discussed, Nabi looked very relaxed, but she refuted that by saying, “Nabi isn’t relaxed. She’s protecting herself. That relaxed composure you see is a trauma response, her mind has shut down to protect her.” JYP Entertainment’s lawyer then asked of the stability of Nabi’s memory, with Witness B saying, “Because of Nabi constantly dissociating, there are many blanks in her memory. There are some days that she has absolutely no recollection of because her brain is trying to protect her, but she remembers how she felt on those days.” JYP Entertainment’s lawyer asked if that could not mean that Nabi’s diary entries were to not be trusted since she might not have remembered what happened, but Witness B mentioned that Nabi made those entries in the moment she was experiencing those situations.

Reporters noted that throughout this exchange, Nabi stared blankly ahead of her, playing with her fingers. Throughout the court proceedings, Jimmy Jeong allegedly looked to Nabi with an apologetic expression.

Witness B was allowed to go sit down and both sides’ lawyers were allowed to make their closing statements, starting with JYP Entertainment.

“As an agency, JYP Entertainment has tried to ensure the safety and comfortability of its artists. They cannot be held accountable for the actions of the employees.” — JYP Entertainment.

Nabi’s lawyers then made her closing statement.

“JYP Entertainment may not be accountable for the actions of their employees, however they are accountable for their artists’ safety. JYP Entertainment failed to make sure Kim Nabi felt safe and they failed to protect her, instead actively working to shield the perpetrator of her abuse. If they really cared for their artist, wouldn’t they let her leave without a fight?” — Kim Nabi.

©️ kim nabi

#ficnetfairy #itzy 6th member #itzy sixth member #itzy oc #itzy addition #itzy added member #itzy extra member #itzy member au #itzy imagines #kpop oc #kpop addition #kpop added member #kpop extra member #kpop au #kpop imagines

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 2 years ago

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Things We Can't Change

Epilogue for Sweet Treats AU: by character | chronological | epilogues

Warnings: these drabbles will include dark elements such as noncon, control, intimidation, and other stuff that may not be specified. Take this as you chance to scroll by.

Note: 👋

Please let me know what you think <3

🍯🍯🍯

You swirl the whisk around, wrist keeping a sharp and tenuous rotation as you hold the bowl steady. The rhythmic ting of the metal against the glass fills the kitchen and the silence of the large house. The place is static and surreal, just like the rest of your life. Ever since…

Don’t think. You won’t be alone tonight. Isn’t that something to look forward to? Is there anything left in this world you can be happy for? Maybe if you could feel anything but the flatline.

“My brother is not very happy,” Loki’s voice brings your head up as he strides coolly, “something about that little mouse and her attitude.”

“Oh…” you look back down, focusing on the batter’s consistency. Almost there. The burning in your tendons is almost enjoyable. To feel anything but dread. “Are they not coming then?”

“I never said that, darling,” Loki stops at the end of the marble island and rests his hand atop it

“Good, good,” you utter, “wouldn’t want this to go to waste.”

“Please, it will. No doubt my brother will leave crumbs littered across the floor like the animal he is.”

You look at him again and give a tight-lipped smile. He does this, makes you and offer but makes it feel like a favour asked. Was it not his suggestion to have Muffing come keep you company? Because he said it would cheer you up. That it would help you forget.

How could you forget what he did? You narrow your eyes and stare at him. Your wrist moves out of instinct and a loud clink keeps you from a full-blown glare. You look down. Fuck.

“Gosh,” you stop and drop the whisk to lean against the brim, “looks like I ruined them myself.”

You sniff and turn away. You go to the other counter and pull close the tray of eggs. Start over. That’s the good part about baking, you can always try again.

You separate the yolk into one bowl and the whites another. You flinch and break through the yellow with the shell as Loki snakes his arms around you from behind. You cringe as your whites are stained with the viscous slime. You suppress your disappointment and lower the shell as he nuzzles your neck.

“It is rather amusing to think of how you midgardians can find such joy in menial tasks,” he purrs, “on Asgard, we have servants who bake our bread.”

“Mmm,” you stiffen and rest your hand on the counter. “You must miss it.”

“I do, though Asgard never missed me,” he sways you with him, “we have some time… they are still upon the road…”

His hands slip down your sides and frame your hips. He pulls you against him, pressing his twitching crotch flush to your ass. You curl your fingers and swallow a shudder.

“I’ve egg on my hands,” you sidle free of him and grab a dishcloth, “and I promised Muffin strawberry meringues the next time she was in town.”

“Do you even know if she heard you? The creature seems rather oblivious.”

“She’s not stupid,” you argue but keep your tone from piquing, “she’s quiet, that’s all.”

“To think, my brother would make that his wife,” he approaches you again, penning you in before the sink, “none are so fortunate as me, are they?” He looms closely, leaning in until his nose brushes your forehead, “when I heard of those buffoons and their missing women… not me and my darling.” He touches the emerald at your throat, “I shall always keep her close.”

“My prince,” you murmur, “I wouldn’t…”

“I know you wouldn’t, darling, you are a prince’s wife now. You know your duties. You’ve proven to me that you could never let me down, yes?”

“Yes, my prince,” you reply.

You hold back a tide of rage. You never would have said yes if you knew what it meant. If you knew what he would do. It wasn’t a fair trade. He is worth none of it but he is all you have left. Besides, he will never let you go and that fact sounds a lot more romantic than it truly is.

“My princess,” his hand crawls down your skirt, slowly tugging it up your thigh as he rubs his nose against yours, “the only promise I care for is that which you made to me.”

#loki #dark loki #loki x darling #dark!loki #loki x reader #au #series #dark!fic #drabble #drabble series #sweet treats #mcu #marvel #thor #avengers

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whatsnewalycat · 2 years ago

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Designated Person | Chapter 3

Pairing: Francisco "Catfish" Morales x F!Reader

Chapter 3: Puzzle Pieces

Series Summary: When posting bail for Frankie Morales, your former employer and former lover, you unwittingly designate yourself as his third party custodian during his pre-trial release. Your often tumultuous relationship with him is given a new set of rules and put to the test. Can the two of you co-exist peacefully, or will you crash and burn?

Rating: Explicit (18+ only)

Word Count: 8.2k+

Content / Warnings: Reader POV, nannying, infant / toddler, infidelity, past romantic & sexual relationship, flashbacks, awkward conversations, first date, first kiss, platonic (???) cuddling, confrontation, argument

Notes: Yeeehaw hi, friends. I don't know that I've mentioned this previously, but "reader" is like mid-to-late 20's for the purposes of this story, so there's a bit of an age gap there. And there was a power imbalance with their relationship to begin with and stuff so I'm just putting that out there. This chapter gives big "Bike Scene" by Taking Back Sunday vibes if you're into that lol. That's all I have for now! Thank you for reading.

[ Tag List ] [ AO3 ] [ Spotify Playlist ] [ Series Masterlist ]

Finally, it’s quiet.

You’re not sure if it’s a full moon or what the fuck is going on, but today has been particularly hellish in the Howard household.

The youngest two children, Ashton and Jaxson, are four and three, respectively. Which can be great when they play together, or when you find activities for the three of you to do while the oldest is at school. But then there are days like this, when neither of them want to do the same thing and both of them want your undivided attention. You can barely finish appeasing one before the other starts crying.

To add to the chaos, when the eldest Howard child, Emmaleigh, came home from school, she promptly stomped up the stairs to her bedroom, then slammed and locked the door. As Jaxson tugged on your shirt and screeched for you to continue reading names of different species of whales pictured in his animal encyclopedia, you tried to coax her out of the room to tell you what was wrong, but she wouldn’t budge.

On days like this, by the time Marla gets home, you’re essentially a bundle of nerves with knotted muscles.

You take another peek into the family room, where Ashton and Jaxson are settled into the cushy microfiber sectional watching Finding Nemo. They both seem content and neither of them notice your presence, so you tiptoe up the stairs to the main level, into the kitchen.

With a heavy sigh, peel the electric blue post-it note off the dull, cream colored vinyl countertop. The message, written in Marla’s neat, rounded hand, reads: OK to DoorDash dinner.

“Thank fucking god,” you mutter under your breath, then pad over the dark hardwood floor to a laptop sitting open on the dining room table. As you place an order for food from a local burger joint, you mentally give thanks to Marla again. Not only will dinner from Emmaleigh’s favorite restaurant lift her spirits, but it takes a load off your mind.

You’ve nannied for about a half a dozen families, and Marla is the most easygoing mom you’ve dealt with by far. Generally speaking, you’ve found your families with two or more children are less rigid than families with one child. You think that Marla is especially lax because she’s a single mother and, as the founder and CEO of an adult toy company, a bona fide hashtag girl boss. She knows that her children can be a handful and isn’t immune to giving in to their demands for junk food and screen time.

Your last job, with the Morales’s, was much more structured. Angie had very specific instructions, typed up the night before and automatically emailed to you at 6am each morning. Of course, you could have pinpointed her as type A during your interview, when she pulled your resume out of a color-coded accordion file of potential candidates, followed by a pre-printed list of questions she used to jot down your responses.

Her shiny red fingernails were long and pointed to sharp tips that clacked against the tabletop of a local coffee shop. Round, brown eyes with little flecks of gold looked up from her questionnaire to you as the interview came to a close.

“The hours are 7 AM to 6 PM, Monday through Friday. My husband gets home at 4, but I would need you to stick around and make dinner while he helps with Sarah.”

“Oh, ok,” you nodded, frowning in confusion at the overlap.

She leaned forward slightly, as if letting you in on a secret, and explained, “He doesn’t know what the hell he’s doing. I love the man but he’s useless in the kitchen.”

You chuckled at this, grinning, “I get that a lot, actually. I just don’t usually get an extra set of hands to help me with the kids.”

“He’ll stay out of your way, don’t worry,” she winked, then took another cursory glance at the questionnaire before telling you, “Well, you’re definitely the most qualified person I’ve interviewed. I think you’d be a great fit for us. What do you think?“

“Is- is that a job offer?” you stammered. After your last family’s mom was laid off a month prior, you were abruptly out of work. This was the break you desperately needed.

Her cherry red lips curved into a disarming smile and she nodded, “But, if you need time to think about it-”

“No,” you interjected, almost a little too forcefully, then softened and added, “I’d love to.”

Before noon on your first day working for the Morales’s, you had grown attached to Sarah. The six-month old baby had a chocolate soft serve swirl of hair right at the top of her head like a crown, and it wiggled like jell-o every time her big bobble head would sway and jostle. Her deep brown eyes were round and expressive. Whenever you had one-sided conversations with her, she'd coo and babble in response, raising or furrowing her eyebrows, like she was contributing even though she couldn’t understand a lick of what you said.

After laying her down for a nap, as you tiptoed down the hallway away from her bedroom, a picture frame hanging on the wall caught your eye. You stopped to examine the photo of Mr. and Mrs. Morales from their wedding day.

Angelica’s pearly, knee-length dress hugged her hourglass shape. A white tulle shawl hung over her shoulders and draped down her arms, rhinestones scattered across the fabric. Her jet black hair was loosely pinned back, save for a few strands of long, wavy bangs left to frame her heart-shaped face. Her makeup was done up as fiercely as it was that morning and during your interview. Razor-point black winged eyeliner painted on behind her long, black lashes. Perfectly arched eyebrows. Her alluring lips were shiny and red, just like her fingernails.

Who you assumed to be Mr. Morales wore a fitted black suit, but no tie. He had bronzed skin and broad shoulders that pulled his posture straight. The man’s brown hair showed the beginnings of curls, his sparse facial hair trimmed close to the skin, save for a pronounced mustache. He had a strong nose and chin. His dark brown eyes and dimpled smile made your stomach flutter.

The happy couple stood next to each other on the steps of what looked like either a church or a courthouse. Mr. Morales had one arm tucked behind his bride, whose hands were clasped around a small bouquet of white lilies. Both leaned their heads towards the other while they faced the camera and flashed the kind of practiced smile reserved for professional photographers.

Blood rose to your cheeks when you realized you were staring at the groom and attraction was pooling between your thighs. You glanced around self-consciously, then down at the floor as you made your way to the living room.

For the remainder of the afternoon, time worked like a garrote, twisting around your neck, tighter with each minute that drew you closer to 4:00.

When he came home, you were participating in tummy time with Sarah. She babbled and blew spit bubbles at you, careening her wobbly baby head around to focus on your smiling face. The heavy door to the garage opened and slammed shut. Your heart skipped a beat when he ascended the stairs and looked around, doling out a polite smile and wave to you.

“Hi there,” you greeted, then asked Sarah in baby talk, “Is that your daddy? Do you wanna go see him?”

She cooed.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” you chuckled, then rolled to your knees and propped her on your hip as you stood.

“How was she?” he asked, tilting his head with a smile to Sarah. The dulcet baritone of his voice reverberated through your chest. You swallowed hard as you realized that he’s so much more handsome in person.

“She was great! Woke up from a nap about an hour ago, then she ate 8 oz from her bottle. Did a little tummy time, as, um, as you can see,” you handed her off to him. As you did this, his hand slid over yours accidentally. It was rough and warm and made your stomach flip. Your heart was thudding like you had just run a marathon.

He nodded at Sarah, copying her wide dimpled smile, then met your eyes, “Ang said you might need my help while you cook?”

When he made eye contact with you, all the air left your lungs and your brain short-circuited. He blinked in anticipation of your response, causing you to snap out of your daze, stuttering, “Y-yeah, sorry, um- yeah,” you winced in embarrassment, “She wanted me to make dinner when you got home, said you could help with Sarah while I do that.”

When you looked back up again he was smirking at you. That did not help the state of your composure. Your face was like a heat lamp and you averted your gaze, “I can get started on that now.”

While retreating into the kitchen, you pulled out your phone and found the recipe Mrs. Morales sent to you. He followed you into the kitchen, sans baby, heavy work boots clunking against the fake honey oak linoleum flooring. You tried to act as normal as possible when you turned to the fridge and he was already there, bending over to get a beer out of the crisper and asking, “You want one?”

As desperately as you wanted to say yes, abso-fucking-lutey yes, it was your first day with this family, so you declined.

“Do you drink?” he questioned further, still hanging over the open drawer in the fridge when he peered up at you.

You nodded, “Yeah, but…”

He fished out a second beer, then pushed the crisper closed with his foot and stepped away from the fridge, chuckling, “I think you need it.”

Teeth clenching your tongue flat, you fought the urge to tell him to shut up. You approached the open fridge and retrieved the necessary ingredients before nudging it closed with your hip, “I don’t know. I don’t want your wife to get mad at me. Um, drinking on the job and all.”

While you told him this, he twisted the cap off of one bottle and put it on the counter next to him, then the second, which he placed on the stovetop for you. As he stepped back and leaned against the counter to face you again, he said, “I won’t tell on you, don’t worry.”

Your heart was in your throat attempting to strangle you. You turned around and flashed a joking eye roll at him as you accepted the bottle, “Sure.”

He winked, grabbing his beer as he pushed off the counter towards the living room, calling back, “Let me know if you need anything.”

“Um, yeah, same,” you laughed nervously.

Frankie slams the passenger side car door shut and you put the car into drive, “How’d the meeting go?”

His seatbelt locks in place with a click. He stretches out in the seat that’s now constantly set to his preference: slid as far back as it can go, reclined to a wide, obtuse angle. His knees settle far apart and he looks out the window, pressing his fingers to his lips as he shakes his head.

Your nostrils flare at this annoying lack of response, but you try again, “I already ate, do you need me to stop anywhere for you?”

He doesn’t move when he mumbles, “I’m fine, thanks.”

You roll your eyes and turn the radio up in an attempt to dampen your irritation with his brooding.

After arriving at home, both of you trudge inside to your separate bedrooms. You strip off your day clothes and replace them with a baggy, tie-dyed t-shirt and a pair of black cotton shorts. Your skin still feels too tight, muscles too tense for comfort.

Fuck, you want a beer. Or a lay. Or both. Some kind of release.

Your phone buzzes from your nightstand, so you grab it and find a new message notification from Tinder.

> RORY: > You free tomorrow night?

With a grimace, you toss your phone onto your bed, then exit your bedroom to find Frankie rummaging through the fridge for something to eat. He has also made a wardrobe change into lounge wear, retiring his hat for the evening, sporting a pair of gray sweatpants and an old, weathered Metallica t-shirt.

“Did you change out of your crabby pants, too, or are those on under your sweats?” you tease.

He scoffs and glances over at you, “I’m not crabby.”

“Sure you’re not,” you tiptoe past him into the living room, where you collapse onto the couch and turn the TV on.

Flipping through Netflix for a while gives you little inspiration. The chair in the dining room groans as Frankie sits down to eat whatever he was able to find. You holler to him, “Whadda you wanna do tonight?”

“Besides get hammered?” his response from the dining room table is muffled by the food in his mouth.

“Obviously,” you snort.

“Mmm,” he hums, pauses for a beat, then sighs, “Fuck, I don’t know.”

You scrunch your nose up and try to brainstorm ideas. Immediately your mind plummets into the gutter, reminding you how fucking hard he made you cum on Monday. The memory electrifies your skin and sends your heart racing in your chest.

It was so fucking reckless.

Reckless and perverse and so fucking hot you wanted to tear your own skin off afterwards.

Whatever the opposite of that is.

“Do you wanna do a puzzle?” you call back to him.

At first he snickers, “A puzzle?” But then another moment passes and he asks, “What kind of puzzle?”

“I have a few. Let’s see,” you squint up at the shelf on your wall that’s lined with boxes of board games and puzzles, “Freddie Mercury, pandas, space, or gnomes.”

You hear him chewing as he soaks in these options, then he says, “Freddie Mercury.”

While he finishes eating, you clear off your coffee table and pull the box down from the shelf.

“A thousand pieces? Goddamn,” he sits down on the floor across the table from you, dusting his hands off before sifting through the box of puzzle pieces.

“We don’t have to finish it tonight,” you tell him as you scoop some into your hand and pick through them, “Try to find the edge pieces.”

The two of you isolate all the jigsawed pieces with at least one flat side and spread them, shiny, printed side up across the table. As you click a few together, Frankie’s cell phone rings.

When he pulls his phone out of his pocket, your eyes flick to the screen and see Angie’s contact photo. It’s a selfie they took together while on vacation in Australia, their smiling faces shiny with sweat and rosy from booze. Your stomach knots.

“Hey,” Frankie answers.

His dark eyes scan the room and meet yours. You immediately drop your gaze to the puzzle pieces and hum to yourself as you blatantly eavesdrop.

“Yeah, does that still work for you?”

There’s an indistinguishable soprano response from his wife.

“Let me check,” he says to Angie, then holds the phone to his shoulder and mumbles to you, “Hey do you think you could give me a ride tomorrow morning at 10?”

You nod without looking up at him.

“Yeah that works,” he tells her, shortly followed by, “Ok. Yep. Love you, bye.”

A stake plunges through your heart.

He puts the phone back in his pocket and resumes his thorough examination of the puzzle pieces, eventually mumbling, “Thank you, by the way. For giving me a ride.”

“Sure,” you glance up and flash him a quick smile. When you turn your attention back to the puzzle, you ask, “Are you excited to see Sarah?”

“Yeah,” his voice is lifted and warm, and you can tell he’s smiling, “Fuck, I miss her so much.”

What you want to say is I do too, because it’s the truth. That attachment you had to her never really went away. But it seems pointless.

“Are you guys doing anything or just sticking around the house?” you ask.

“We’re gonna go to the zoo, then Ang is gonna throw something together for dinner,” he clicks two puzzle pieces together and hums thoughtfully to himself.

“Is she still super into penguins?”

He chuckles, “Yeah. Last time me and Ang took her, she started screaming every time we tried to leave the exhibit.”

You laugh and shake your head, “Every goddamn time. I always had to bribe her with ice cream.”

“She’s so stubborn,” he grins and sits up on his knees to lean over the puzzle and get a closer look, “Just like her mom.”

A weight pulls at your stomach. You feel obligated to ask, so you do, “How are things with you and her mom?”

He’s quiet as he contemplates this, staring at the shiny pieces, thrumming his fingers against the table. With a sigh, he answers, “I don’t know.”

You try to keep your breaths metered, as to not give away the thudding in your chest. Adrenaline-spiked blood whooshes in your ears.

Frankie continues, “Things were better when I got arrested, but, you know…”

Your eyebrow raises on its own accord, but you don’t comment. If things were better, why was he doing blow and driving drunk? Nope, none of your fucking business.

Not my chair, not my problem.

“I’m kind of nervous about it, actually,” he admits quietly, “Spending time with her and all that. I really want things to work.”

“Why?” your mouth asks before your brain can tell you to shut the fuck up.

“She’s my wife. And- and the mother of my child,” he scoffs and shakes his head, “I love her.”

The sharpness in his tone drives the stake in your heart down further. Your eyes flick to his and see that he’s studying your face, stare hardened to steel. Those three words eat away at you. What he said was: I love her. But you know what he wanted to say was: I love her.

You nod in response, dropping your gaze back to the puzzle. Your body moves autonomously, clicking a few puzzle pieces together, scanning for matching patterns, while your mind plays it over and over.

I love her.

Static buzzes in your chest. Your throat feels tight, so you clear it, then tell him, “I don’t know if I’ll be able to pick you up afterwards.”

“Why not?”

“I have a date,” you inform him, glancing up to gauge his reaction.

“Oh,” he murmurs, then frowns, “That shouldn’t be a problem.”

Silence settles over the two of you. It’s just the scrape and click of puzzle pieces across the tabletop and hums of contemplation. You notice the way he seems to get buried in his thoughts, pressing his fingers to his lips, gnashing his jaw back and forth. A sick satisfaction roils inside you.

You decide to call it a night when the edge of the puzzle is put together. When you sink into your bed, you open Tinder and send a response to Rory.

< ME: < Definitely. What’re you thinking?

The message is opened immediately, and he responds.

> RORY: > Wanna get dinner?

< ME: < Yes please :)

> RORY: > Pick you up at 6?

< ME: < It's a date

The BBQ place Rory takes you to is busy and loud, its high ceilings making plenty of space for every noise to ricochet off the wood paneled walls down into your eardrums. You’re seated across from him, resting your chin in your palms, elbows pressing into the wobbly table top as you listen to him talk about his job as a personal trainer. When you shift in your seat, your legs stick to the black vinyl upholstery, and you wince at the sensation.

Your eyes trail his rigid biceps that pull his t-shirt sleeves taught. A faded black tribal tattoo peaks out from beneath the white fabric. From the shirtless pictures on his Tinder, you happen to know he has a whole collection of douchey tattoos lining his sun-tanned, muscular body, but you might be willing to overlook that.

You mark his tattoos down in the “things you don’t like” column in your brain.

Rory is conventionally attractive in a very masculine way, his face all hard angles with a dimpled, squared off jaw. Straight, white teeth are almost always visible behind the peak of his thin, bow-shaped lips.

He seems like the kind of person that has a standing appointment with a hairdresser that knows exactly how to trim his hair into a close, neat cut without him giving instructions. You’re willing to bet he takes a shower at exactly 6 AM every day, then applies just enough product to make his golden brown hair stand at attention. He probably food preps and has like six hard boiled eggs or something equally rich in protein for breakfast each morning.

Every part of him seems disciplined and routine. Stable. You mark that down in the “things you like” column.

When he asks you what you do for a living, you tell him, and he asks how you got into the nannying business.

“Growing up, I took care of my younger siblings all the time. I’d babysit for the neighbors and stuff, too. It just naturally evolved after I graduated high school,” you tell him, meeting his stunning hazel eyes with an easy smile.

“Do you have a big family?” he crosses his arms on the table and leans in. The off-kilter base of the table responds, shifting towards him.

You nod, “I have an older brother and three little sisters. My brother, Ben, is two years older than me. My sister, Marlene, is four years younger. Then there’s Leah, who was born two years later. And Rachel is the baby, who came a year after Leah.”

“Five kids,” he marvels, “Wow. No wonder you had to help out so much.”

You smile politely at this, although you know your role as their caregiver had more to do with your parents’ active social calendar than the sheer number of children.

“Do you want kids?” Rory inquires, his brow furrowing in a way that tells you the answer is important to him.

“Oh, definitely,” you respond, take a sip of your water, then continue, “I don’t know about five, that seems like overkill, but more than one for sure.”

This seems to please him. His lips curl into a smile.

“What about you? Do you have any siblings? Want any kids?” you stab the ice in your glass of water with the straw, then return your eyes to his.

“Two brothers. I’m the middle child,” he rubs his hands together and smirks, “And, yes, kids are no doubt a priority for me.”

You smile and nod in acknowledgment. Mark it down in the “things you like” column.

His eyes linger on yours and you feel blood rush to your cheeks. The waitress appears with two trays of food, placing them on the table. As you eat, you find out that Rory was born and raised close to where you were, in another coastal town off the Gulf of Mexico. He was transferred to Kissimmee about two years ago as part of a job promotion.

“What brought you here?” he questions, then picks up the ribs on his tray and tears a chunk of meat off the bone.

You shake your head, “Moved here with my ex-boyfriend. He was from the area originally. I needed to get the fuck out of my hometown, so he suggested moving here.”

You kick yourself for mentioning your self-exile from Ruskin, and hope to god he doesn’t ask why you needed to leave. First dates are no place to recount the ruthless campaign ran against you until you couldn’t take it anymore.

“What happened with him?”

A sigh of relief expands your lungs. You answer, “Fell in love with his high school sweetheart.”

“Wow, that blows,” he frowns, “Been there. Cheated on. It feels terrible.”

“That it does,” you mutter, pushing kernels of corn around the white plastic bowl on your tray, “He told me about it when it happened, at least. And they’re really happy together. Got married and had kids and all that.”

“No offense, but he’s still an idiot,” he declares with conviction, “I mean, who would do that to someone as gorgeous as you? Besides, cheaters are all scum.”

The compliment warms your insides. You smile demurely and bat your eyelashes at him outwardly, while inwardly you make a mental note to never mention your past with Frankie to him.

After you finish eating, Rory pays the check and drives you back to your house. The living room is illuminated through the window facing the street. When he puts the car in park, he glances up at it and frowns, “Do you live with someone?”

“Yeah,” you chuckle nervously, “I have a roommate. They must’ve come home while we were out.”

“Can I walk you to your door?” His voice is low and sultry.

You bite your bottom lip and nod.

He tells you to stay put as he comes around the car to open your door for you. As you walk side-by-side up the cracked sidewalk that leads your house, his hand finds the small of your back. There’s a nervous energy pulsing through your veins, thickening with each step.

When you reach the foot of your porch steps, he turns to you, meeting your gaze and holding it, “I had a really good time tonight.”

You face him, and his hand slides to your waist. A tingle spreads across your chest and heats your cheeks, “So did I.”

His eyes flick to your lips. He leans in. You mirror the movement, eyelids fluttering closed as his lips meet yours. He tastes like peppermint and smells like conifer trees. The kiss is mechanical and his hand is stiff at your waist. It doesn’t awaken anything hungry within you, but it’s nice.

When you pull away, you look up at him through your eyelashes, “Goodnight, Rory.”

“Goodnight,” he smiles wide, big white teeth taking up half his face.

When you open the front door and step inside, Frankie is mid-movement, sitting down on the couch.

“Hey,” you call as you lean against the closed door and pull off your wedge sandals.

“Hi,” he responds, sitting up straight.

It amazes you how much the one syllable says. The slightly panicked upward inflection, the tensing of his shoulders, how out-of-breath he seems. He rests his elbows on his knees and leans forward, hands clasped together, knuckles white.

You drop your purse on the ground, “You getting anywhere on the puzzle?”

He hums and nods, “I’ve assembled quite a few mustaches.”

You tiptoe across the carpet and kneel down opposite him, scanning the clumps of puzzle that he’s managed to complete. It entrances you immediately, your fingers and brain working in tandem, making the world fade into the background. Some time passes before you feel Frankie staring at you. You look up at him and meet his eyes, “What?”

“Nothing,” he shakes his head and smirks.

You blink at him and raise your eyebrows, “Bullshit.”

His smirk breaks out into a smile that tugs at your heart, the way his eyes crinkle into crescents and his cheeks dimple. He drops his gaze to the table and taps his lips, then shrugs, “You just look really nice. That dress was a good choice.”

“Thanks,” you mutter, returning your attention to the puzzle, ignoring the flutter in your chest.

“How was your date?” he asks, trying to seem disinterested, even though his shoulders hunch up to his ears and his jaw clenches.

“So good. I think for our next date, we’ll get married,” you tease, glancing up to flash him an amused smile.

“Hilarious,” he rolls his eyes. His knee starts bouncing and he inquires, “Have you been seeing him for a while or is this a… recent development?”

“It was literally our first date,” you raise an eyebrow at him, then shrug, “He was nice, though. We have a lot in common. I’ll probably see him again.”

He shifts in his seat, but says nothing, so you don’t say anything, either. You find a few more puzzle pieces that correspond and click them together.

“How was the zoo?” you inquire, looking up to search his face, noting his far-away eyes and pouting lips.

“Good,” he answers with strained positivity, “We’re gonna do something next Saturday. Not sure what yet.”

“That’s good,” you tell him. Your voice is dripping with an overly ripe kind of sweetness that seems disingenuous and repulsive. By the way he blinks up at you with a droopy, blank expression, you’re certain he senses it, too. Blood rises to your face and you bite down on your tongue, pulsing your teeth against the soft muscle, savoring the sharp pain the motion causes.

You take a deep breath in, exhaling through slack lips that make a buzzing pbpbpbp sound, then ask, “What do you wanna do for dinner tomorrow?”

He frowns, “Whatever you want, I don’t care.”

“Good talk,” you mutter under your breath, then rise to your feet, “Do you need to use the bathroom before I take a shower?”

Frankie shakes his head without looking up from the puzzle. His fingers press against the pillowy flesh of his lips. You feel an urge to scream at him, to push his buttons somehow, anything just to get him to react, but you drop it.

Once you’ve showered and changed into comfier clothing, you return to the living room and find Frankie laying on his side, curled up on the couch, a pillow wedged between his cheek and his hands. Jungle Boogie by Kool & The Gang is playing behind the opening credits of Pulp Fiction on the TV. You approach with caution, “Do you mind if I join you?”

“Not at all,” he answers and goes to sit up.

“You can stay there, it’s fine,” you tell him. He relaxes back into his previous position as you grab a blanket and pillow from a wicker basket next to the TV, “Want a blankie?”

“Fuck yeah.”

His enthusiastic response brings a smile to your face. You grab another blanket and drape it over his body before settling into the opposite end of the couch and stretching out. He seems stiff when you pile your legs on his over the middle cushion, so you pull your knees up a little further, closer to your body.

“I wanna ask you a question but I want you to know it’s ok to say no,” he says in a somber voice. Your heart immediately starts sprinting.

“What?” you furrow your brow and look over to meet his eyes, but he’s staring at the TV with a blank expression.

“Will you cuddle with me?”

Your stomach flips upside down. You search his face in question, unsure what to say. No, probably. The two of you literally just had a conversation about keeping your relationship platonic less than a week ago. What the fuck?

He finally glances at you and sees the confusion. His forehead creases and his foot starts bouncing under your calf.

He elaborates, “I’m freaking out right now and I think it would help. No funny business, though, I swear to god. I just…”

As he trails off, his eyebrows part and face softens. He shakes his head like he can’t explain it further. His eyes are shiny in the light of the TV and he looks like he’s tearing up. You’ve never seen him cry. But the panic can do weird things. You’re well acquainted with the panic, unfortunately.

You swallow hard and nod, “Y-yeah, that’s fine.”

There’s a momentary ruckus while the two of you scoot and reconfigure. Your back settles against his chest and one of his arms tucks under your cheek. The other wraps around your belly, drawing you close, “You comfy?”

“Yeah,” you answer.

“Are you sure this is ok?” he asks. His voice is low and shaky. It vibrates against your skin and sinks down into the marrow of your bones. If you’re still enough, and keep your breaths shallow enough, you can feel his bass drum heart pounding in his chest at a bpm familiar to you.

“Yeah, it’s fine, Frankie,” you assure him, enveloping his hand at your belly with your own. He takes a deep breath and the exhale tickles your ear.

On the TV, Jules Winnfield and Vincent Vega are chatting about hash, but you can barely pay attention.

Frankie’s warmth is a sedative. It always has been. Much to your disdain, you hope the feeling is mutual. And you think it could be, because his thudding heart seems to slow. His body relaxes against yours.

And it’s so unfair how he can make you feel like this. How, one second he makes you so nervous you could puke, or so frustrated you want to scream in his face, then the next he’s holding you and it’s like your soul is finally resting here with his.

You think about your date with Rory. He was a gentleman and seems like he’s stable and nice enough. The kiss was fine, good even, but not electric. And that’s fine, because in your experience, first kisses are almost always lackluster.

Your first kiss with Frankie was like lightning, though.

Months passed working for the Morales family and you came to be more comfortable with Frankie being around while you cooked dinner. Your conversations were mostly functional, about Sarah or things around their house. But you found him charming and your crush only grew more intense.

Sometimes you would watch Sarah on Saturday nights so he and Angie could go out on a date. One of these Saturdays, they came home at 1 AM, and Angie was hammered.

She stumbled up the stairs and plopped down on the couch next to you. Her black hair was mussed and she was all giggly. She said something in Spanish to Frankie, and turned to you, “Do you wan’ chicken strips?”

“You- you don’t have to feed me, that’s ok, Mrs. Morales-” you stammered, going to stand up and get ready to leave.

“Oh hun, call me Angie, I’m begging you,” she grabbed your arm, “And stay, please! Chicken strips! Come on, hang out with me.”

“Um…” You glanced around to gauge Frankie’s reaction, but he was in the kitchen preheating the oven, so you nodded, “Sure, ok.”

“Yay!” Angie clapped, then sprawled out on the couch and propped her heels up on your leg, “Do me a favor, hun, take these off for me?”

You chuckled and examined the shiny silver clasp of her stilettos, working to undo the strap across her foot as she asked, “So what’s your deal, are you single, do you have a boyfriend, girlfriend, what?”

“Ang, come on,” Frankie chided from the kitchen as he pulled a few beers from the fridge.

“What? I’m just asking!” she scoffed at him, then tilted her head at you with a hazy drunk smile, waiting for you to answer.

You managed to unclasp her shoes, despite her wiggling, and they thudded to the floor one by one.

Frankie walked past, handing an open beer bottle to you, then another to her, before sitting down on the loveseat. He kept glancing over at you and Angie, then up at the TV, which was playing King of the Hill.

“I’m single, yeah,” you sighed and took a sip of beer, “Unfortunately.”

“Hey, nothing wrong with that, girlie. Enjoy it while you still can.” Angie said, then set her full beer bottle on the ground and groaned, “Oh my god I have to get out of this fucking dress. I’ll be back, don’t go anywhere.”

She marched off into their bedroom, swaying gently as she walked. This was all very amusing to you because you had never seen her be anything but intimidatingly perfect.

You pulled out your phone and scrolled for a bit, sipping at your beer while waiting for her. Every once in a while, you found yourself looking over at Frankie, who was picking at the label on his beer bottle with his eyes glued to the TV.

A shrill beep from the oven indicated it was preheated. He rose to his feet and walked down the hallway to their bedroom. You heard the click of the door closing, then he returned to the living room and asked, “She’s passed out, do you really want chicken strips?”

“No, not really,” you chuckled, tucking your hair behind your ear and dropping your gaze to your beer bottle.

“And you don’t have to stay or anything like that, no pressure,” he advised.

You glanced up at him and got caught in his dark, warm eyes for a moment before you shook your head, “No, I’ll stay and finish this, if that’s ok.”

“Of course, make yourself at home,” he assured you with an easy smile, then sat down in the middle of the couch, just a foot away from you.

And you fucking knew what you were doing by staying. That’s the worst part. Attraction hung thick in the air between your bodies. It dampened your skin and condensed inside you.

Every so often in the weeks preceding, you caught him staring at you, and vice versa. More and more, the eye contact lingered just a bit longer than appropriate. Just long enough to make you wonder. It seized your heart and pumped all the blood in your body between your legs and up your neck.

The prospect of his affection was on your mind all the fucking time. Every time he’d laugh at one of your jokes, or brush up against you in passing, or find a reason to touch you intentionally, you wanted it to last forever.

But you didn’t initiate anything. You were content admiring him from afar, wondering if his lingering looks meant he wanted you, too. He was at least fifteen years older than you, married, and your fucking employer. There was no way in hell you would risk your livelihood by making a move on him, no matter how tempted you were.

If he pursued you, though… that would be different. And you desperately wanted him to.

“I’m sorry about Ang,” he said, leaning back against the couch, “She drank a lot tonight.”

You chuckled and shook your head, “Totally fine. We all have to let loose every once and a while.”

He hummed in agreement, and your eyes flicked to his, and they were so intent on your face that your heart started racing.

“And how do you like to let loose?” he rumbled, his gaze dropping to your mouth.

Your lips parted. You managed to quirk a brow and breathe, “Are you sure you wanna know?”

Frankie sat forward, taking your beer and setting it on the ground. You could smell his whiskey-soaked mouth. The woody scent of his cologne. His hand rested on your knee. A shiver jolted across your skin and you swallowed hard.

“I think I might know,” he murmured, sliding his hand down further, setting his thumb into motion against your tender inner thigh, leaning closer.

“This is a bad idea,” you warned him in a whisper, but brought yourself closer to his beckoning lips, insides coiling tight, begging for you to just fucking do it.

“Terrible idea,” he agreed, brushing his nose against yours, bringing his hand to your chin, holding it as he took the plunge and pressed his lips against yours.

The kiss was a slow peck that lingered with heat, and when he peeled his lips from yours, murmuring, “Sorry-” you grabbed onto his shirt and pulled him back in, all hot-blooded and eager, savoring the softness of his pillowy lips, the harsh liquor burn on his breath. You couldn’t help but whimper as his tongue rolled wet against yours. He renewed it with hungry urgency, cupping your cheeks, pulling you closer, both of you completely lost and breathless.

You tried to sit up, to get closer, to crawl inside him if you could, but knocked over the bottle of beer with a sharp clink. Both of you jumped apart at the disruption.

“Shit,” he hissed and stood up, striding to the kitchen. You stood up, too, trying to catch your breath and regain your composure. The spell was broken. The weight of what just happened crashed down on you all at once.

You snatched your purse up off the floor just as he came back into the room with a wad of paper towels.

“I’m sorry-” you faltered.

He shook his head, “No, no, don’t worry, it’s fine.”

“No it’s not fine, you’re-” your eyes darted to the closed bedroom door where his wife was sleeping and whispered, “You’re married. And- and- I work for you, I’m an idiot. I just have a stupid crush. An- and I won’t do it again.”

“Hey, no, don’t-” his voice was pleading and soft. He reached out to you but you shook your head and dropped your eyes to the ground, crossing your arms.

“I have to go, but I’ll see you on Monday, ok?” you pushed past him to leave.

The whole drive home, the whole next day, you were so fucking mad at yourself. You had never done something like that with your employer. It was unprofessional and wrong.

Yet…

The kiss consumed you. It’s all you could think about. You wanted it to happen again. You wanted it to go further. It set you on fire and the flames felt fucking exquisite.

And now, as Frankie is holding you, nuzzling against your shoulder, and you feel whole and calm and safe like you can’t with anyone else, you wonder for the millionth time if you’ll ever find this with someone who loves you back.

You drag the silver tines of your fork across the barest section of your ceramic plate just to watch Frankie squirm at the ear-piercing squeak. Family dinner again. A stalemate for who goes first again.

“I’m gonna keep doing this until you start,” you advise, then make the noise happen again, “I can do this all night.”

He closes his eyes and tilts his head back, sending his cap onto the floor behind him, “It’s just gonna start a fight.”

“I don’t give a shit,” you blink and prop your chin up on the heel of your palm, “Not saying anything will also start a fight, so…”

Frankie just swings his head back to neutral and stares at you, his arms crossed, elbows resting on the table.

You scrape your fork against the plate and smirk at him.

“Jesus fucking Christ fine,” he groans, running his hands down his face before crossing his arms again. His eyes meet yours and he opens his mouth to speak, letting it gape for a moment, then admits, “While we’re living together, I think maybe…”

He snaps his mouth shut into a straight line and drops his eyes to your picked over plate. You rub the tines back and forth against the ceramic rapidly, “Just say it, come on, Franklin.”

He glares at you, half joking, and scoffs, “You know that’s not my name,” then he reaches across the table, trying to snatch the utensil from you hand, “And I’m gonna take that goddamn fork away-”

“The fuck you are,” you laugh as you pull it away from his reach, then try to coax him to complete his thought, “While we’re living together, you think maybe…?”

“I think maybe we shouldn’t have other people over,” he tells you quietly, sitting back in his seat with a sigh, meeting your eyes for a moment before dropping them to the table.

“What do you mean by other people?” you search his face.

“Dates, you know, like,” the muscles in his face tense as he clenches his jaw and grinds his teeth together.

You drop your fork on the plate and cross your arms, “Like the guy I went out with last night? Like you don’t want me to date other people while you’re living here? Really?”

“Like I don’t want to hear you getting fucking railed-”

“This is my fucking house, Francisco, and we are not dating,” you bite off, “Just because you’re jealous doesn’t mean I have to be abstinent-”

“I’m not asking you to take a fucking vow of celibacy, I’m just saying I don’t want to see or hear that shit when I’m here,” he argues.

“Because you’re jealous,” you state.

“Sure,” he shakes his head, “Whatever.”

“You’re such a fucking hypocrite,” you spit.

“What?! How?” he barks, throwing his hands up at his sides.

“Do you know how many times I had to see you and Angie kissing and holding hands and making fucking goo-goo eyes at each other?” you grind out, shaking your head in disbelief, “But I can’t have people I’m dating in my own house? Ok, Frankie.”

“That is not the sa-”

“Bullshit,” you lean into the word as you hurl it at him, then scoff and tell him, “When I went to Australia with you guys, I heard you fucking her every single night. Did you know that?”

His eyes flick to yours. He’s scowling like a sullen child.

“Then you would wait until she fell asleep and- and you would come to me,” you feel the pain from this buried memory surfacing in your chest, burning behind your eyes, “And you smelled like her, and I was-” a sob bubbles up your throat. Tears roll hot down your cheeks, and you meet his eyes so he can understand, “I was so fucking in love with you, Frankie.”

His face softens and his shoulders sag.

“So I really don’t want to hear how uncomfortable my love life makes you while you’re living here,” you sniffle, then wipe your eyes with your hands. He searches your face, but doesn’t say anything. You bite down on your tongue and hold it for a moment, then ask, “Did you ever think about how it was for me? Seeing you two together?”

His adam’s apple bobs in his throat. He shakes his head.

“I didn’t think so,” you mutter, looking down at your half-eaten plate and pushing it away with a sigh, “I won’t have sex with anyone when you’re here. But I’m not going to ban people I’m dating from my own house just for your sake.”

He nods, “Ok.”

Both of you stew in this silence, soaking in the words that were exchanged. It’s not uncomfortable, just heavy with the weight of the conversation.

“Why didn’t you tell me earlier?” Frankie looks up at you.

You search his somber face, “Tell you what?”

“That it hurt to see me with her,” he presses his elbows into the table, clasping his hands in front of his mouth, “I mean, obviously, I should have known, but…”

“I didn’t wanna lose you,” you shrug loosely, gather all of your guts in a bundle and tell him, “If I told you, it would come down to choosing between me or her. And… you’ll choose her every time.”

He sits with this information, staring down the hallway to his bedroom, but so much further. His chest expands with a deep breath, and he exhales, “I’m sorry for hurting you.”

You fight the urge to comfort him and tell him it’s ok. Instead, you nod in acknowledgment.

“I was really shitty to you for a really long time. And- and you’re right. I’m a fucking hypocrite,” he furrows his brow and rolls his head on his shoulders to look at you, “Why did you even agree to this?”

“To be fair, this is not what I thought was going to happen when I bailed you out,” you chuckle, then release a heavy sigh, “But, I mean… I probably still would have done it if I knew. I care about you. And I want you to get better.”

The corners of his lips curl upward just a little, eyebrows lowering as he murmurs, “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” you smile warmly and wait a moment before stretching the smile out wider, “Ralph is gonna be so proud of us.”

Frankie laughs, his dark eyes folding into crescents, and nods, “He’s gonna put a gold star on my worksheet tomorrow.”

You push your chair back and stand up, yawning as you stretch your arms towards the ceiling.

He gets to his feet, too, grabbing his hat off the floor and putting it back on before piling dishes from the table into a stack, “You going to bed, or you wanna puzzle it up?”

“I’m down to puzzle,” you grin, “As long as we don’t fall asleep on the couch again, my neck is fucking killing me.”

“You’re tellin’ me,” he snorts, taking wide strides to the sink, “I’m gonna do the dishes, but I’ll be there in a minute.”

With a nod, you tiptoe into the living room and kneel before the coffee table, examining all the fragmented parts of the puzzle still left to put together. Slowly but surely, it’s starting to resemble a bigger picture.

You’ve always found puzzles to be comforting.

Something about the heap of jigsawed pieces when you open the box. All of them broken and indistinguishable in their own right. How you put them together, bit by bit. Proceeding even when it seems impossible. How, eventually, they all come together to make something beautiful.

[ Next Chapter ]

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