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#and as a result now there is more of both! coming up SOON
starryhyuck · 2 months
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pairing: prideandprejudice!jeno x afab!reader
words: 17.8k+
summary: lee jeno is the furthest idea of a possible suitor in your mind. yet somehow, fate continues to pair you together.
genre: fluff, angst, smut
warnings: loss of virginity, cunnilingus, penetrative sex, creampie, slight breeding kink
this is basically pride & prejudice (2005)
“You are behaving foolishly,” you comment as Minji runs around the room, encouraging your headache to grow. Jimin exhales from her spot next to you, hands folded in her lap like one of those formal ladies you used to make fun of when you were younger.
“Minji, please sit,” Jimin sighs exasperatedly. Minjeong giggles from her position on the opposite couch, slouching even though she’s not meant to look so unseemly.
Minji finally takes her seat and rolls her eyes at Jimin. “Sister, you must feel some ounce of joy. It’s our first time at a ball!”
It was true — your family had been all but shunned from any formal engagements due to your lack of wealth, but lately, your father has climbed up the ranks and gotten respect from some of the rich parties across town. His hard work resulted in you and your sisters being invited to your first ball, an elite event made up of high society members.
Your mother took this as a sign of a wedding on the horizon since none of your sisters have received formal proposals yet despite being of age. Minji is overjoyed, Jimin is stressing out, and Minjeong is displeased with the situation at hand. Minjeong has always been proud of your family, regardless of status, and she hates the social climbers that migrated around these parties.
You’re indifferent to tonight’s events, willing to tag along to whatever boisterous adventures you find.
Your mother comes frantically into the room just as Minji has finally calmed herself down, hair tied messily on top of her head and corset barely laced up.
“Girls, we must leave soon!” She declares, stroking her fingers through Minjeong’s hair to perfect it.
“Mother, you look unkempt,” Jimin scolds, standing from her spot to finish lacing up your mother’s corset and taming her unruly hair. Your mother profusely apologizes before shooing her away.
“This night is not about me. It’s about you girls. Now remember, Mr. Lee and Mr. Na will both be in attendance. They come from very affluent families, and it would be in your best interest to invest your time into them as they are the most desired bachelors of the season.”
Minjeong scoffs. “Mother, I highly doubt entertaining these men who deny our self-worth is in our best interest.”
Your mother’s mouth opens to scold Minjeong until the click of your father’s shoes come padding down the hall. In his old age, your father traditionally expects all of you to be married off before he passes. Otherwise, the estate transfers over to your cousin, Nakamoto Yuta, who has always been less than kind to your family. You know he would wed you and your sisters off to the first men he comes across just to keep your family’s earnings for himself.
“Are we ready to depart?” Your father asks, smiling proudly in his formal wear. All of your sisters rise from their seats, with Minji nearly jumping out of hers and Minjeong being heavily prodded by your mother.
It’s a long ride to the ball with your family’s estate being located further away from higher society. You and Minji play games on the journey as Minjeong sleeps and Jimin frets over what to say when you arrive.
Jimin has always been the more responsible one out of your sisters, and you understand she has a heavier burden on her shoulders to be married first. Luckily with you being one year younger, there wasn’t as much of an expectation for you to be wed so fast.
The arrival of your family is greeted with a hesitant welcome, most of the men smiling at your father and the women analyzing your sisters and your mother. You grip Minjeong’s arm for dear life, feeling a little more hesitant about the experience now that you have stepped foot on the grounds.
“This is absurd,” Minjeong whispers in your ear as you enter the expansive ballroom. People are gathered in some of their most formal outerwear with music echoing around the dance floor.
“Would you not enjoy a dance?” You ask your sister, heels clacking against the wood floors as you scurry your way through the crowd. You imagine dancing would be quite nice — you and your siblings have spent nights practicing in your rooms, hands joining together as you pretend that you all are actually on the dance floor. Tonight would be perfect to bring those memories to life, but Minjeong doesn’t seem very fond of the idea.
“Have you forgotten that we are not allowed to dance with one another? We must find a partner,” she reminds you, and your eyes flutter around the room to see the prospects.
You’ve seen most of these men in passing, like Lee Taeyong or Lee Mark. You have heard that the brothers are kinder than their appearance might make them seem and perhaps they would entertain you with a spin on the floor.
You suddenly feel Minji grip your arm and she squeals in your ear. “There they are! Lee Jeno and Na Jaemin!”
Your eyes turn to the entrance, where the men of the night are starting to flock in. Lee Jeno, a known affluent man, owns one of the largest estates in the country and has been one of the most desired bachelors for years now. His friend, Na Jaemin, has just moved to the country, making this ball his first public appearance. Similar to Jeno, Jaemin owns multiple estates with an abundant fortune sitting in his bank.
In this world, they are a girl’s one way ticket to safety.
You see Jimin’s back straighten in anticipation, and you know she has her eyes set on Jaemin.
Your mother approaches your side, squeezing your arm. “Behave now, girls.”
Your family gathers to present yourselves in front of Jeno and Jaemin, bowing and curtsying in respect. Jeno simply appears bored, eyes scanning the room in an air of confidence and arrogance. Jaemin immediately smiles at Jimin, who grows slightly bashful under his gaze.
“Mr. Na, it’s a pleasure to meet you,” your father greets first, shaking Jaemin’s hand with fervor.
“You as well, sir. I’m taken by the people’s hospitality to my arrival,” Jaemin remarks.
“It’s rare we get a new face in this town,” your mother replies happily. “And such a handsome one at that.”
Jaemin’s smile is blinding, basking in the compliments and attention. Jeno, on the other hand, looks like he wants to leave and never return.
The music suddenly changes to the tempo of the traditional dance, and Jaemin asks Jimin to join him on the floor. Your sister shyly accepts and you hear both your mother and Minji squeal to one another. Minjeong rolls her eyes and informs you she’s going to find some refreshments for herself.
She leaves you with Jeno, who still appears stiff and unapproachable. You decide to take the first leap into conversation.
“Do you like to dance, Mr. Lee?”
He blinks once, scanning you before answering. “Not if I can help it.”
You’re deterred by his answer until Minji tugs you forward, nudging you to join her on the dance floor. You’re paired with Taeyong, who politely bows to you.
You feel a pair of eyes follow you while you maneuver around bodies of the elite, and your mind lingers on the disdainful presence of Lee Jeno.
Once the music subsides, you take another politeful curtsy to Taeyong before sweeping the room for your fellow companion, An Yujin. Yujin, like your family, was not born into wealth and struggles in society as you do. However, because of her charisma, she is able to sneak her way into parties by charming some of the men for an invitation. You spot her in between a few other guests and eagerly pull her away.
“You did not tell me you were coming!” She exclaims, wrapping you up in a hug.
“We were not informed until earlier this week,” you share, walking along with her as you move your way through the crowd. “Is it not so lovely?”
“Very,” she giggles, her voice turning down when you spot Jeno and Jaemin walking very close to you two. They do not catch sight of you, speaking quietly to one another.
“What a splendid night, so many lovely women,” Jaemin chuckles.
Jeno replies in a bored tone. “You were dancing with the only lovely woman in this room.”
“Yes, she was quite a keeper, was she not?” Jaemin hums, and you and Yujin exchange a look. “I saw you speaking to her sister. She was quite admirable as well.”
Jeno scoffs. “Admirable? Barely tolerable, I would say.”
The conversation is cut short when Jaemin’s sister sweeps them away to meet another family. You huff at Jeno’s clear dislike of you and Yujin pats your hand in comfort when they disappear into the crowd.
“What a horrid man,” you comment.
“Do not fret,” Yujin smiles. “If he liked you, you would actually have to speak with him.”
You giggle in agreement. “Yes, imagine having to entertain a man like that.”
“Jimin looks rather happy, though,” Yujin remarks fondly. “She’s thoroughly taken by Mr. Na.”
You gaze over at your sister, who is happily chattering with Minji. “It seems so. I hope mother is taking her bearings and not placing too much pressure upon her shoulders.”
“I think it might be too late for that.”
Your mother has suddenly grouped Minji and Jimin into directly speaking with Jaemin and Jeno. You exchange a look with Yujin before walking over to save your sisters from this debacle. When you step into their circle, you hear Jaemin compliment Jimin’s dancing.
“She is quite the dancer, if I must say.”
“Yes, yes!” Your mother shouts. “She and her sisters practice all the time. My handsome Jimin, you see, is definitely the most well-rounded of all my daughters!”
“Mother!” You scold, trying to stop her as she continues to embarrass your sisters.
However, she ignores your protest and Jimin’s visible contempt. “Jimin’s always had a vast amount of suitors, you know. There was this one bewitching gentleman who I thought would propose to her last spring but alas, all the man did was write a few poems.”
“And that ended it completely,” you cut in, and Jimin throws you a grateful look. “Who ever decided that poetry was a suitable medium to a woman’s heart? Very poor choice, might I say.”
Your statement earns you a few laughs until a haughty voice interrupts.
���So what do you propose?” Jeno retorts, and it’s the most engaged he’s been with you all night. His eyes bore into yours with the most intense observance. “Poetry has been the love language for suitors across all ages. What do you propose is better to take its place?”
You smile mischievously. “Dancing, I believe. Even if one’s partner is barely tolerable.”
Jeno’s face morphs into a mix of understanding and discomfort at your recall. You smirk, offering him another curtsy before vanishing back into the crowd.
You feel the burn of his stare follow you.
“Shopping for such a simple piece of clothing must seem so benign, do you not think so?”
“Yes, it quite certainly is,” you reply, tugging Minjeong into a nearby fabric store. “But it is necessary in order to impress the likes of the Na family for Jimin’s best interest.”
You and your sisters have made a trip into town to purchase new dresses for another upcoming ball planned by Jaemin. Since your first encounter with him, he and Jimin have made slow strides into courting one another, and this dance may be an opportunity to make it more official. Therefore, you have taken the role of stringing your family into the best shape to appease high society.
Jimin is already browsing through a variety of pinks and blues, carefully explaining to the seamstress that she has no desire for lavish embellishments to her dress. Although she would never admit her nerves, you can detect it from the way she frantically combs her fingers through her hair.
“Play nice for once,” you say to Minjeong, stroking her arm in consolation. “This could mean wonders for Jimin.”
“I can play nice,” Minjeong agrees hesitantly, pretending to be interested in some of the frilly ribbon decorating the store.
The bell above the door rings, signaling another customer walking in. You all turn to see a gentleman come inside, and you curtsy to greet him.
“My apologies for the intrusion,” he smiles, and you take note how captivating he appears. “It’s pouring out there and I was hoping to take shelter in here.”
“Of course, Mr. Lee,” the seamstress nods, gesturing for him to walk about as he pleases.
His eyes zero in on you. He takes your hand and presses a kiss to your knuckles. You bow your head coyly.
“Lee Donghyuck, it’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance. Are you ladies also shielding yourselves from the horrid rain?”
You smile and return your hand to your side.
“In contrast, Mr. Lee, we are prolifically finding ourselves a manner of dress for the Na ball,” you share, and his eyes sparkle at your response.
“Ah, I see. It must be an extremely difficult decision for you then.”
You laugh. “Yes, it’s quite the hunt for us.”
Minjeong suddenly reappears next to you. “And what brings you to town this evening, Mr. Lee?”
He offers a nod to your sister. “Some of the men from our militia district are in town for our homecoming. We have gathered into town to see what we all have dearly missed from our time away.”
His eyes flit over to you once more, and you bashfully glance down at your feet.
“I must come and see what beholds the community of this ball,” he states, hands wringing together behind his back. “It looks to be an event of importance.”
As soon as Jimin finds the right fabric for her dress and you review the designs for the rest of your family, Donghyuck offers to walk you all back to your estate. Luckily, the weather clears by the time you finish shopping.
You speak with Donghyuck on the way home, with Minji throwing the two of you suggestive looks as you break off from the others.
“How long are you in town for then?”
“Another fortnight or two, dependent on the weather,” he replies, his shoulder brushing against yours as you stride along.
“It must be pleasant to be back home. I cannot imagine how much you have missed it,” you say, enjoying the warmth of his figure every time his arm presses against yours.
He opens his mouth to respond before Minji’s loud hollers interrupt him.
“Oh, Mr. Na! Mr. Na!”
Minji calls out to Jaemin across the river, who is riding horseback alongside Jeno. Your eyes narrow at Jeno’s appearance, still feeling offended from his malicious comments against you. He, in turn, returns your heated glare but to your surprise, it’s not directed at you. His focus is solely on the man beside you, and you notice how Donghyuck tenses at his presence.
“Mr. Na, we just came from the dress shop to look fitting for your ball!” Minji calls happily.
Jaemin gives a nod, his eyes floating to Jimin.
“I’m happy to hear of it!” He replies.
The conversation is cut short when Jeno suddenly instructs his horse to trot away. You observe his abrupt exit, with Jaemin promising to see your family at the ball before following his friend.
“Very ill-mannered, that one is,” Donghyuck comments, scoffing as Jeno’s figure disappears further and further in the distance.
You begin the trek home again as Minjeong speeds up her pace and Jimin tugs Minji along to keep up. You fall behind in order to uncover the deeper meaning of Donghyuck’s words.
“You seem to have an uncivil assumption of Mr. Lee,” you note to him, and he hums in agreement.
“Mr. Lee and I do not get along well.”
“May I inquire why?”
“I have known Mr. Lee since birth, you see. Our families were very close and I thought of his father as mine and he thought mine as his. When my father passed, I became closer to his own as a result. Eventually, when Jeno’s father grew sickly, he asked that the rights of the Lee estate be passed onto me. At that point, you must imagine, we were closer than he and his son ever were and it drove Jeno wild with jealousy.”
You can visualize Jeno as the epitome of bitterness, envy blazing his form as he watches Donghyuck grow closer to his father. You fail to realize how your bias towards disliking Jeno prevents you from questioning the truthfulness to Donghyuck’s story.
He continues. “After his father passed, Jeno willingly sought my demise by forcing me into the militia and preventing me from inheriting his estate. I hope you can see now why I do not enjoy entertaining his presence.”
“That is purely vengeful,” you say with sympathy, almost wishing to apologize on Jeno’s behalf. “It pains me to think you had to go through such a thing.”
He smiles and shrugs it off.
“It is in the past, and we must look towards the future. I shall be delighted to see you at the ball, miss.”
You curtsy and grin. “You as well, Mr. Lee.”
Donghyuck is the first person you search for when you arrive at the Na estate.
You spot Yujin in between bodies, tugging her along in your search. She laughs and follows you as you weave your way through the crowd.
“How handsome is he that has you so besotten?”
“He’s just wonderful, Yujin!” You exclaim passionately. “If you spoke to him as well, you would know!”
You pass by numerous familiar faces, asking them if they have seen Donghyuck lingering around. You disappointingly receive a resounding denial at the sight of his presence.
Jimin calls your name quietly when she approaches you and Yujin in the drawing room.
“I do not believe Mr. Lee is here. It seems he has been sent off.”
You frown. “Sent off? Oh, but he must be here!”
“There you are.”
All three of you jump at the sound of a male voice entering your conversation. You turn to see your cousin, Yuta, staring at you intimidatingly. You curtsy in respect.
“I was wondering if it would please you to join me.”
He gestures to the dance floor and you almost choke.
“Mr. Nakamoto, I did not know you danced.”
If you did not know any better, you would guess Yuta was glaring at you judging by the weight of his stare.
“I do not think it so inappropriate for a gentleman of my status to ask a woman for a dance. As much as I think it is not inappropriate for you to accept.”
You flounder. Your sisters had gossiped a few days ago about Yuta being in search of a wife, but you would have never guessed he had his sights set on you.
You nod timidly, trying your best to ignore Yujin and Jimin’s incredulity. He guides you to the floor and you make your best attempt at taking him seriously.
The dance is almost comical to you, suddenly burdened by Yuta’s intense gaze. He has never shown the slightest interest towards you until now, and his advances only bring you laughter.
As soon as the music ends, you grab Yujin’s arm and pull her away to avoid Yuta’s further questioning. The two of you giggle at the spectacle that just took place.
“Can you believe Mr. Nakamoto just-“
Your voice catches in your throat when you almost collide into someone’s chest. Your eyes drift up to catch the sight of Jeno.
He still has that same bored expression painting his face but you can see a hint of nervousness clouding his eyes.
“May I have the next dance?”
You are slightly startled by the question, but you manage to keep your decorum intact.
“You may.”
He offers you a nod before disappearing into the crowd once more. Yujin squeezes your arm.
“Did you agree to dance with Mr. Lee?”
“For heaven’s sake, I believe I have. I must be going mad, Yujin. He is the man I have sworn to hate,” you gasp.
She shakes you from your trance and guides you back to the dance floor, bringing you face to face with Jeno. He is a lot more restless than usual, bouncing on the balls of his feet as he avoids your gaze.
The dance begins with a respectful curtsy and bow. You begin to move to meet Jeno at the center and remark, “This is a beautiful dance.”
He curtly nods. “Yes, I think so.”
He is rather lucky you’re determined to be on your best behavior or else you would have rolled his eyes at the simple comment. You turn past Kang Seulgi’s figure and meet him again in the middle.
“It is your turn to make conversation, Mr. Lee. Usually, you would compliment the host of the gathering or comment on the people who have attended.”
“Is that so?” He muses, taking slow steps around Lee Mark to circle back to you. You join your hands in the middle and pace quietly to the hum of the violin playing. “Please do tell what invigorating subject you would like for me to focus on.”
You can tell he’s trying to push your buttons and you grit your teeth. “A lady must not lead the conversation so easily, Mr. Lee. It is your job to set the tone.”
You separate to continue the dance, rotating again around Seulgi and Mark’s figures.
“Do you and your sisters go shopping in town often?”
You hesitate, knowing he’s beginning to broach the subject of Donghyuck. You connect in the middle, the bottom of your dress skirting by him.
“Lately yes, we have. We find it a great opportunity to get out and meet new people. In fact, we had just met a lovely man that day you saw us by the river.”
His lips press into a thin line. “Lee Donghyuck is charming, indeed. His ability to win over women’s hearts is quite notable, but it does not fare in comparison to his ability to quickly lose that adoration.”
You bite back, dancing in another circle and attempting to keep your composure. “Yes, and it was so devastating to hear that he has lost that devotion from you. Quite irreversible, is it?”
“Indeed,” he nearly hisses, stopping in the middle to sneer at you. The dance continues but you hold your ground, staring at him with as much anger as you can muster. “Why do you ask such a question?”
“To inquire into your character, Mr. Lee.”
His eyes burn with an unanticipated flame. “And what did you discover?”
“Very little. I hear quite different stories about your character and it baffles me exceptionally.”
“My apologies,” he states, eyebrows furrowed in frustration. “I hope to clear your troubled thoughts going forward.”
You both resume the dance, but it somehow feels like the entire room has disappeared. The weight of your words builds the tension and you follow the steps of the dance you know by heart, but your eyes no longer drift to different parts of the room. They stay focused on Jeno, who is equally captured by you.
The two of you speak nothing more until you return to the same spots you started the dance in. The sound of applause jolts you out of your stupor and you take one last look at Jeno, offering him a polite curtsy before exiting the floor.
You’re startled when you nearly run into Yuta again on your way to the drawing room.
He says your name in a rigid tone. “You’re well acquainted with Mr. Lee?”
You almost stutter. “Not very well. I will admit, I’m surprised to see you at such an event, Mr. Nakamoto.”
“Are you? Your mother has brought it up to me on many occasions, especially noting that you would be in attendance.”
You clench a fist behind your back and silently curse your mother.
“Did she? I cannot imagine why she would think that would be of importance to you.”
“I am sure you have heard of my search for a companion to my estate. Lady Park has been stressing the issue and I am not one to avoid her suggestions,” he shares, taking a small step closer to you.
You take a step back. You and your sisters know all about Lady Park — the woman who financially supports Yuta until he gets a hold of your family’s fortune when you and your siblings are married off and your father has passed. She dictates every aspect of Yuta’s life and he must engage in her wishes to ensure his funds are properly taken care of.
“Mr. Nakamoto, I will save you the trouble. I have no desire to be married at this time, so whatever offer my mother promised you cannot be fulfilled on my account.”
He frowns. “Surely, a girl of your age understands the need for a husband in this economy. A comfortable life could save you the misfortune of attending these dances.”
“If you do not mind my candor, I do not believe a comfortable life for me would include you in it. I sincerely hope you are able to find a wife who is best suited to help you run your estate.”
You curtsy for him, ignoring the malicious sneer he throws your way. You scurry into the drawing room, searching for Yujin and finding her near the piano. Minji is playing to her heart’s content and it seems she has been doing so for hours, and your father walks over to tell her to be mindful of other people’s time.
You loop your arm around Yujin’s to get her attention.
“Oh, how was it?” She exclaims enthusiastically as you pull her away. “You did not look so pleased to be in Mr. Lee’s presence from what I could see.”
You huff. “Truly an understatement. And you will not believe the kind of proposal Mr. Nakamoto approached me with.”
She raises an eyebrow. “Do not tell me-“
“I denied it, of course. It would have been a loveless coupling, much to my mother’s chagrin.”
She frowns at your indifference. “You know, you are blissfully lucky to even have such an offer come across you. Your family has only been in high society for a few months yet you have already gotten a marriage proposal from a wealthy suitor.”
“Is that all you heard? A wealthy suitor,” you repeat with a scoff. “Yujin, Mr. Nakamoto has despised my family since Jimin came of age. I would like to think I should get a say in who I marry and not just because he is inheriting my father’s pocket.”
You brush off her continued sorrow over your situation. Your eyes scan the room, seeing your mother hang by the staircase with a glass of wine in her hands, loudly praising Jimin for catching the attention of Jaemin. Jimin, on the other hand, is conversing quietly with him a few feet away, awkwardly tucking her hair behind her ears and avoiding his gaze. Minji is tugging Minjeong along now that she is not berating a crowd with her piano playing, the both of them laughing at some of the guests around them.
“I believe my family is entertaining the masses well enough,” you muse.
She laughs and nods, sweeping your previous conversation about Yuta under the rug.
“The upside is that Mr. Na does not seem to mind,” she says, and the two of you watch him laugh at something Jimin has whispered.
“I think he is quite devoted to her.”
She hums. “But does she return his favor?”
You chuckle. “What are you on about? Of course she does! He’s all she ever thinks about.”
“All I am saying is that having a wonderful man like Mr. Na becoming smitten is a rare chance. However, if Jimin does not outwardly express her intentions, he could be deterred from continuing his advances.”
You shake your head. “She’s just shy, you know that. She is not the type to wear her heart on her sleeve like most other women.”
“But Mr. Na is not well acquainted with that fact. He does not know her as we do. She has to take advantage of his love before the clock runs out.”
You study your sister and her suitor, wondering if Yujin was right.
Your eyes drift over to catch Jeno’s, who is intently watching you from across the room. His hands are folded behind his back and despite the many women surrounding him, he only has his gaze directed at you. You interpret it in the wrong fashion, assuming he has once again taken on a mission to taunt you.
You hold your head high, hauling Yujin to the next room and disregarding the irritating presence of Lee Jeno.
It is weeks later when your family catches news that Jaemin is leaving the city.
Jimin is utterly distraught, ostracizing herself in her room while your mother frantically runs around the house, insisting the news cannot be true. You hesitantly approach Jimin as she is crying on her bed, curled up with her face stuffed in her pillow. You brush back her hair and sigh.
“Mr. Na is an idiot for leaving without proposing to you,” you say, trying your best to comfort her. “All of us could see he was so taken with you. I am sure he will return soon and bring you with him.”
“Do not bother,” she sniffles, wiping the tears falling down her cheeks. “I knew I could never be an acceptable fit for him. He saw our family and ran for the hills.”
“Stop putting yourself below him,” you scold. “You were a very acceptable match for him and it is his fault if he could not see how uniquely extraordinary you are. He will learn his regret soon.”
You leave her to wallow in her sadness, telling your mother to stop her fussing and leave Jimin alone. You catch some fresh air outside, basking in the sunlight before you hear the crunch of leaves from behind you.
You barely register Yujin’s form until she’s tackling you in a hug. You gasp and lock your arms tight around her.
“What on earth are you doing here?” You laugh, and she gives you another squeeze before pulling away. You take in the anxiety clouding her face.
“I have come to tell you the joyful news — Mr. Nakamoto and I are engaged.”
You take a step back, astonished by the reveal. You blink rapidly and stutter. “E-Engaged? To be wed?”
“Of course, silly. What other kind of engaged is there?” She drinks in your nauseated expression and sighs. “Do not give me that. You should be perfectly happy for me.”
“But he is ridiculous! And so much older than you. Yujin, you cannot possibly-“
“Yes, I can,” she replies in a stern tone. “Not all of us can afford to have choices. He is offering me a comfortable life and a beautiful home. And now, your family will no longer have to worry that some tyrant will swoop in and steal your father’s earnings.”
“But Yujin-“
She continues. “My father is very close to losing his job and my family is in danger of falling from high society. I do not have many prospects, and I am very thankful that Mr. Nakamoto approached me. I am terribly frightened, do you not see? So please, do not judge me.”
You embrace her. “I apologize, I did not realize how tough it must have been for you.”
She shakily returns your affection. “Promise me you will come visit when you can? Lady Park has a wonderful cottage that we will be staying in when we are married.”
You nod. “I most certainly will. I have to ensure you are being taken care of properly.”
She giggles. “I will miss you.”
After a tearful goodbye, you watch Yujin’s figure disappear into the horizon and return home. You feel a plethora of emotions swirling around your head from Yujin’s future — mainly concern but also a feeling of happiness for her safety. As much as you were not fond of Yuta, you know he would still treat her with respect.
You are taken aback when you enter your home to see your mother with a handful of garments in her arms. She rushes up the stairs with Minji following closely behind. You fume when you see her entering Jimin’s room.
“Mother, I told you to leave Jimin well enough alone!”
You ascend the staircase and follow them, confused when you see a suitcase splayed out on Jimin’s bed as your mother stuffs clothing into it as fast as she can.
“Oh, there you are!” Your mother exclaims at the sight of you. “Come here and help Jimin pack for her trip. Where in heavens did you disappear to?”
Your eldest sister is now up on her feet, looking slightly more lively. Minji is eagerly folding dresses for her.
You speak slowly. “I was out speaking with Yujin. She is betrothed to Mr. Nakamoto.”
They all pause at the news. Your mother is the most engaged, furious by the revelation.
“I told you! Mr. Nakamoto is a reputable man who could have brought you wonderful children.” You wince at the thought. “You should have accepted his proposal when he offered!”
“Oh mother,” Jimin interjects, coming to your defense. “The man did not even have the decency to ask father for permission.”
“What exactly are we packing for?” You ask, desperate to move the topic of conversation far from you.
Your mother immediately brightens, forgetting about nagging you for a second. “Jimin is going out of the city to stay with your aunt and uncle! She will remain for a visit until Mr. Na sees the error of his ways.”
You frown, approaching them as they continue to pack Jimin’s belongings.
“Are you sure this is what you want?”
“Of course it’s what she wants!”
You and Jimin ignore your mother’s enthusiasm. She nods at you, smiling softly.
“I think so. No, no, I believe so. I want to fight for him.”
You smile at the sparkle of determination in your sister’s eye. You happily help her fold the rest of her belongings.
Your mother has already called the carriage, with Minjeong holding the door open with a disinterested look on her face. Jimin envelops her in a hug as she passes and you see Minjeong’s hardened expression melt a little.
You all help Jimin into the carriage and wave her off, praying to the heavens that Na Jaemin will offer her a second chance.
You breathe in the smell of the quaint countryside, laughing when Yujin comes bursting out the front door of her cottage and embraces you tightly.
“I cannot believe you are finally here! I have waited so long for your arrival,” she says.
“I am delighted the weather was favorable enough for the trip,” you murmur, pulling away and smiling softly. “This is a lovely home, Yujin.”
“Oh please, you flatter me so. You have not yet seen the inside!”
She pulls you through the door, and you drink in the sight of the living room. It feels warm and cozy, which is exactly what you would expect from a home decorated by your friend.
Yuta comes walking down the long hallway, eyeing you.
“I see you have made a successful trip here.”
You curtsy. “Yes, Mr. Nakamoto. I am honored that you and Yujin have allowed me to stay for a short period.”
“You know you can stay for as long as you like!” Yujin exclaims. “I have missed your company a great many.”
She guides you into the room where you will take your stay. She helps you unpack your luggage, admiring the new dresses you have acquired in her absence.
“And how is Jimin? I was curious to know of her whereabouts since the last letter of yours arrived.”
You sigh. “It has been months since she left to stay with our aunt and uncle. No progress has been made for her and Mr. Na, and I fear for her heartbreak when she returns to us.”
Yujin frowns. “How dreadful. I do hope she is able to win his affections before it is too late.”
“Whatever the case may be, Mr. Na has surely lost a beautiful bride.”
She hums in agreement.
Yuta interrupts your conversation hours later, rushing into your room with a delighted expression.
“Yujin! Lady Park has asked us to come to supper,” he declares.
Yujin stands from her spot on your bed, clapping her hands in excitement.
“Oh, wonderful! That is absolutely delightful.” She turns to you, gripping your elbows. “You must come with us. Lady Park would be overjoyed to meet you.”
“O-Oh,” you stutter, unsure of what to say. “I haven’t got much to wear.”
Yuta brushes off your concern. “Lady Park is not averse to your manner of dress. Simply put on your best and you can accompany us.”
You join Yujin and Yuta that evening to meet Lady Park at her grand estate, which is merely a few miles away from their cottage. You hold your breath as you enter the grand drawing room, where Lady Park sits with her daughter, Chaeyoung.
You curtsy in respect alongside Yujin, and Lady Park eyes you warily.
“We are honored you have asked us to dine with you tonight, Lady Park,” Yujin says, hands folded neatly above her stomach.
You are about to voice your agreement until a creak in the hardwood distracts you. Your eyes flutter over to the doorway to catch the sight of Jeno entering.
“Mr. Lee,” you murmur in surprise. “I did not expect to see you here.”
The familiar burn of his stare welcomes you. He bows his head and you return the favor.
He says your name, and you feel a rush travel down your spine. You have not heard him speak since the night of the dance.
“I am a guest here,” he explains simply.
Lady Park stands from her seat on the chaise lounge.
“You are familiar with my nephew?”
You digest the information, storing away the fact that Yuta never mentioned Jeno was related to Lady Park.
“Yes, I had the privilege of meeting your nephew a few months ago, ma’am.”
You hear Jeno almost scoff at the suggestion of your encounter being anything but dreadful. You clench your fists behind your back to prevent an outburst.
“And this is my cousin,” Jeno introduces, stepping aside to allow another man to come into your line of vision. He smiles and bows. “Park Jisung.”
You pay your courtesy and Lady Park instructs the group to gather in the dining room for supper. You take a spot next to Jisung and across from Yujin.
Before you can get comfortable, Lady Park scolds Yuta. “Mr. Nakamoto, you cannot sit next to your wife and only converse with her. Switch with our guest.”
You awkwardly switch places with Yuta, now sitting next to Yujin and Jeno. Your shoulder brushes by his, and he instinctively leans closer to you. Your breath hitches slightly at the proximity.
With the seating arrangements in order, you all take your seats and begin dining into the feast.
Jeno clears his throat. “Has your family been faring well?���
It takes a moment for you to register that he is speaking to you. You glance at him, only to find him engrossed in his meal.
“They have been doing well, all things considered,” you reply. You cannot help but prod him for answers. “Jimin has actually gone to stay with our aunt and uncle, close to where Mr. Na is staying. Perhaps you have seen her.”
He looks at you. “I have not had the pleasure, no.”
You purse your lips. “What a shame. I know she would be delighted to have your company.”
He hums. “Is that so? Is she the only one who would enjoy my companionship at this time?”
Your mouth hangs open in surprise at his confidence. A sliver of his true personality shows, with the corner of his lips threatening to lift.
Lady Park interrupts your exchange as she calls your name.
“Do you play the piano?”
You shake your head, trying to disregard that Lee Jeno’s character seems to be more than that of a boring nobleman. “Not very well, ma’am. I’m afraid that is a talent reserved for my youngest sister.”
“And your sisters — how many of you are out in society?”
You smile as politely as you can. “All of us, ma’am.”
Lady Park is shocked by the revelation. “All of you? All at once? The youngest being out before the oldest ones are married? Why, that is unheard of.”
“I should not think to burden my younger sisters simply because the oldest ones are not yet wed. They deserve to have their fair share of enjoyment,” you voice, ignoring her continued surprise by your candor.
“You have a lot of opinions for a girl so young and still not in charge of her own household,” Lady Park sighs. “It would do you well to hold your tongue.”
Your fingers tighten around your spoon but you’re amazed when Jeno speaks up.
“I think she is very gifted for her age, considering her family was not born in the faces of high society. I do not think playing the piano would truly showcase the talent she encompasses.”
Lady Park’s lips dissolve into a thin line at her nephew’s impudence. You swallow the jarring emotions you feel at Jeno’s blatant defense of you.
“Well, I must be carrying the customs of my time then. However, I shall hear you play a piece for us after supper.”
“Ma’am, I stress to you that I do not lie when I say I play the piano poorly-“
Yuta hisses your name across the table, throwing you a stern glance. Yujin has a pleading look painting her own features.
“She would be happy to play for you,” Yuta says firmly, with no room for argument.
You swallow your dispute, looking back down at your bowl of soup as Lady Park scolds her daughter for her poor posture. In the corner of your eye, you see Jeno’s hand twitch.
Your head raises and you catch his stare — his eyes no longer holding the small glimmer of amusement you caught earlier.
The last thing you want is for Lee Jeno to feel sorry for you, so you return to finishing your meal, brushing off his concern.
After dinner, you go back to the drawing room and hesitantly take a seat at the grand piano in the corner of the room.
Your fingers clumsily press down on the keys, playing an off-tune version of the last piece you memorized. The group continues to chatter behind you as Lady Park invites Yujin to come visit whenever she pleases. Jeno slowly approaches you and you shake your head.
“There is no need to point out my terrible sense of musical inclination, Mr. Lee. It is a flaw I’m very well acquainted with.”
“I had no intention to do so,” he replies. “And no gentleman would ever raise attention to a fault a woman believes she has, even if he disagrees with her.”
You stop playing briefly to look up at him. He’s already staring back at you, his eyes now conveying an emotion you cannot recognize. You wonder what you would find if you peeled back a few layers of his hard exterior.
Jisung draws near, his hand cupping Jeno’s shoulder with familiarity.
“You must tell me how my dear cousin behaved when he was in your town.”
You laugh under your breath. “I must disappoint you, Mr. Park, as your cousin was very indifferent during his stay. Despite the many women begging for a dance and the lack of suitors on the floor, Mr. Lee still insisted on keeping to himself and refusing to make conversation with others.”
Jisung chuckles. “Truth be told, that sounds very akin to the cousin I know. I have never seen him dance with another woman willingly.”
You pause, remembering how Jeno asked you to dance the night of Jaemin’s ball. You recall how nervous he looked when he faced you, almost as if he was jumping out of his socks.
Jeno clenches his jaw. “Well, dear cousin, I am sure you understand how difficult it is for me to gab about with people I’m not familiar with. Dances are not something I take pleasure in.”
You interject. “Even if it is a woman’s choice of love language? A way you can show her your affection?”
The corner of his mouth twitches as he catches on to what you’re referring to.
“Perhaps then, there could be an exception.”
Lady Park admonishes you for not playing as instructed and you return to the piano, paying no heed to Jeno’s presence for the rest of the evening.
Your hand aches as you finish writing your letter to Jimin, sealing the envelope carefully.
You are anxious by the state of your sister’s duress, as it seems Mr. Na has still not come to visit her. Jimin is growing more and more disappointed by the day, feeling as if she has burdened your family with this ridiculous adventure. You wish you could see her and tell her that she would never be a burden to you, but writing a letter is the only communication you can give to her at this time while you continue your stay with Yujin and Yuta.
Just as you place the envelope back down on the table in your room, the door swings open.
You’re startled when Jeno walks through the door, his eyes frantic.
“Mr. Lee,” you say, failing to hide the surprise in your voice as you stand.
You both pay your respects and you wait for him to explain the meaning of his visit, as it has been a week since you saw him at Lady Park’s dinner festivities. However, the words seem to be caught in his throat because he says nothing to you, opening and closing his mouth furiously.
“Mr. and Mrs. Nakamoto went to the village,” you bring up, pondering if that was the reason he was here.
“Yes,” he clears his throat, fiddling with the sleeves of his coat. “Yes, it is a nice day to go to the village.”
You nod, still trying to decipher the reason why he’s here with no notice.
“This- This is a beautiful home,” he notes, bouncing from one foot to another.
It is the most disheveled you have ever seen him.
“Yes, I think so as well. Should I fetch us some tea?”
He immediately shakes his head. “No, no.”
You sit in an unpleasant silence for another few moments before you hear the front door open, signaling Yujin and Yuta’s return.
“Have a good day,” Jeno quickly says, walking swiftly down the hallway and out the cottage, not even bothering to acknowledge Yujin’s presence when he passes by.
Yujin stares incredulously after him, eyes darting over to you.
“What on earth have you done to poor Mr. Lee?”
You shake your head, puzzled by the odd interaction.
“I have no idea.”
“There are many conveniences which others may supply and which we cannot procure for ourselves…”
You fight the yawn threatening to come out as Yuta drones on in his sermon. One of the downsides of staying with Yujin and Yuta was the weekly attendance at the local church, where Yuta often read verses for the people. Yujin is always enthralled by her husband’s lectures, but you do not share her level of enthusiasm.
You lean over to whisper to Jisung, who is seated next to you.
“How much longer will you be in town, Mr. Park?”
“As long as my cousin needs,” he answers. “I am at his disposal.”
You scoff, imagining exactly how many people Jeno had at his disposal.
“I wonder why he does not marry so he can bring a woman alongside him instead of dragging you,” you quip.
Jisung laughs quietly. “If he did choose a woman, she would be very lucky. Jeno is a loyal man to both friends and family alike. I heard he recently helped save a friend from an unwise marriage.”
You frown. “Who was the friend?”
“One of his closest companions, Na Jaemin.”
Your features twist into a scowl, and you spot Jeno sitting across the church. Your chest fills with an indescribable rage.
“Did he explain why?” You ask Jisung.
“There were a lot of objections to the lady. I believe her family was not considered to be the right fit for a nobleman of his status.”
You could nearly feel the steam coming out of your ears. So this was the truth — Jeno found your family completely unruly and unfit for his standards and in return, he cut off Jimin’s chance of finding love. All of the pieces click into place and you clench your fists, wondering who gave him the right to dictate the fate of your family.
As soon as the sermon ends, you find the quickest exit, refusing to wait for Yujin and Yuta. You decide you must get back to their cottage to write to Jimin, insisting she come home and end her useless pining after Jaemin.
You gasp when you realize it’s raining, the heavy downpour soaking your dress. You waste no time, running as fast as you can until the church is no longer in sight.
After a mile, you see a nearby gazebo and decide to take shelter there to catch your breath. You place a hand on your chest, staring down at the hem of your dress, which is now covered in mud and dirt.
The call of your name causes you to gasp, and you look up to find the main character of your distress.
Jeno is also completely soaked from head to toe and offers you no time to say a word. “I have struggled in vain and I can bear it no longer. These past few months have been a torment. I came here with the sole purpose of seeing you and I must tell you how I am feeling. I am fighting against my family’s expectation and the inferiority of your birth because I am asking you to end my agony.”
You shake your head. “I do not understand-“
“I love you,” he confesses. You freeze, appalled by the revelation. “Most ardently. Please do me the honor by accepting my hand.”
You grit your teeth. “I apologize, Mr. Lee, for having caused you pain since our first meeting. I assure you it was not my intention.”
He raises an eyebrow. “Is this your reply?”
“Yes.”
“So it is a rejection?”
“Yes.”
He swallows. “May I ask why you are so quick to voice your refusal?”
You laugh. “Then may I ask why you think it is so brave of you to confess your love for me against your better judgment? I must be so uncouth for you to hold onto your feelings for so long instead of speaking them to me!”
“I did not mean-“
“And I am frankly horrified to think that you believe me to have no dignity that I would accept the hand in marriage of a man who has ruined the fate of my eldest sister, whom I admire with all of my heart!”
His expression falls at the mention of Jimin, and you laugh mockingly at catching his lie.
“Do you deny it, Mr. Lee? Breaking up a young couple in the height of their affection and forcing my sister to question her self-worth?”
“I do not deny it,” he replies sternly.
“What gave you the right-“
“I watched them out of respect for my friend and realized his attachment was deeper than hers,” he explains, but it only causes you to grow angrier.
“She’s shy! She has never been courted so seriously by another man before, especially not one that became so public,” you vouch for her.
He stands his ground. “Jaemin had realized she was not returning his affection with the same amount of passion-“
“Only after you suggested it!”
“I did it for his own good!”
“My sister rarely shows her true feelings to me,” you yell, and Jeno is taken aback. “You will never understand the burden an eldest sister has to face when there are no sons born to the family. You will never understand the weight on her shoulders when Mr. Nakamoto is knocking on the door, waiting to take away what little fortune your family possesses!”
He continues to defend himself. “There was a call into the character of your family and the suggestion of an advantageous marriage-“
You sneer. “How dare you assume Jimin would pursue such a thing!”
“It was not her, but your mother, on the other hand-“
You taunt him. “And what of Lee Donghyuck?”
He narrows his eyes and takes a step closer to you. “Lee Donghyuck?” He speaks the name as if someone poured acid on his tongue.
“What excuse could you possibly conjure of your behavior towards him?”
He purses his lips. “You take a great deal of interest in Donghyuck.”
“How can you defend the misfortunes you have put him in?”
He smiles mockingly. “Ah yes, I’m sure his misfortunes are vast in comparison to mine. I see that this is how you view me — a horrible villain who casts a dark shadow wherever he goes.”
“You are the one who has decided to insult the inferiority of my birth, which is beyond my own control! That arrogance and selfish disdain for the feelings of others is why I believe you are the last man in the world I would ever consider to marry!”
His expression crumbles. It is only now that you recognize how short the proximity between you two has gotten. He seems to have grasped the situation as well, eyes flickering downwards to stare at your lips. You swear that he begins to lean in before he stops himself.
You think you would let him kiss you, despite all signs pointing to it being a bad idea. The desire building in your stomach has you questioning your common sense.
There is no possible way you want Lee Jeno to kiss you, to mark you as his, to marry you in front of all those presumptuous nobles like Lady Park-
“Forgive me for taking up so much of your time.”
He turns and walks away, leaving you panting with a gaping hole in your chest.
Days pass before you hear from Jeno.
You contemplate returning home, but Yujin convinces you to stay for a little while longer. You write out a letter to Jimin to tell her everything, but for some reason, you never send it. You fear the gruesome picture you will paint of Jeno and consequently, Jimin’s feelings towards him. You somehow care for your sister’s approval for the rich nobleman although you turned down his proposal.
It’s another dreary night when Jeno shakes the cottage with his presence. You hear his blazing footsteps behind you but you refuse to look at him, staring at the wall in your room with your back turned to him.
He clears his throat. “I came to drop off this.”
You do not know what he has left, ignoring the miniscule part of your brain that screams at you to check.
You speculate on what he looks like — was he wearing that dreary trench coat he likes to walk around in? Was he wearing a mask of contempt at his behavior? Did he really mean what he said? Did he really love you?
“I shall not repeat the confessions that were so insulting to you, but if I may, I will address the two offenses you have laid against me,” he says.
You want to see him. You want to see if he has that stricken expression on his face, if he still has a hint of playfulness hidden in his eyes.
But when you turn around, he is gone. You would believe you had imagined him if not for the letter sitting neatly on the windowsill.
You swallow and open it, eyes scanning over his neat penmanship.
My father loved Donghyuck like a son. After his passing, my father left him a generous living, but Donghyuck made it clear that he would not be taking orders. He gambled away his living within weeks and demanded for more money from me, insisting it was what my father would have wanted. I refused, and he severed all acquaintance thereafter. He returned to us last summer in an attempt to court my sister, Jayoon, and convince her to elope with him. My sister is to inherit half of our estate. When it was made clear Donghyuck would not be receiving a penny of that inheritance, he disappeared once more. I will not try to explain the depth of Jayoon’s despair.
You gasp, eyes shuffling through the ink in disbelief. You could not comprehend the deceit and maliciousness Donghyuck possessed. The man you met was so poised and charismatic, but you suppose all the best con men were.
As for the matter of your sister and Jaemin, though the motives which governed me may to you appear insufficient, they were in the service of a friend.
Yujin’s voice pulls you out of your stupor. She enters your room, carrying a tray of your meal for the night. A worried look crosses her face at the sight of you, and that is when you realize you have started to cry. You wipe the tears falling down your cheeks.
“Are you okay?” Yujin asks, frantically coming over to you.
You hide Jeno’s letter behind your back, clutching onto it for dear life.
“I-I hardly think so.”
She lays her forehead on yours, understanding what you need.
“I believe it’s time for you to return home.”
“Honestly, if he passed by me in the street, I would hardly even recognize him.”
You brush off Jimin’s blatant lie and ignore the way she is combing her fingers through her hair as a nervous tick. She frowns at your faint smirk.
“It is true!” She claims, hitting your arm with mischief. “Anyway, what news comes from your visit with Mr. and Mrs. Nakamoto?”
You returned home shortly after Jeno delivered his letter. Yujin was sorrowful to see you go, but she recognized you needed to be with your family, no matter how loud and boisterous they could get. Jimin arrived a day before you, declaring her efforts worthless, much to your mother’s displeasure.
Jimin insists the experience was a pleasant one and that she learned a great many, and you would not dare refute her claims despite the numerous letters you received that say the opposite.
You smile at your sister’s question. “Nothing exciting.”
You had decided to keep the contents of Jeno’s letter for yourself, afraid to admit your blossoming feelings and ignorance at your accusations towards him. Considering Jimin is handling the loss of Jaemin better than expected, you also did not want to burden her with the truth.
The door to the drawing room bursts open and Minji comes parading through, screaming wildly.
“The heavens have truly blessed me!”
You raise an eyebrow at her as she collapses on the lounge, dress flowing across her hips in an improper fashion. Minjeong follows her into the room, looking cross with her hands folded across her chest.
“They are not sending you there because you are a suitable wife, they are sending you there because you are a disgrace to the family!”
“Minjeong!” You scold her, watching as Minji simply laughs at her sister’s insult. “What on earth are you two jabbering about?”
“Father is sending me to live with the Baek family,” Minji divulges, wiggling her feet in excitement.
Jimin stands, outraged by the information. “What? Minji, the Baek family live across town!”
“Yes, and is it not so delightful?” She giggles, ignoring you and Jimin’s worries. “There will be a handful of suitors there at my disposal!”
You and Jimin exchange a knowing glance before heading to your father’s office. He appears to be expecting your arrival, fingers pinching the bridge of his nose in anticipation of your anger.
“Father, you cannot send Minji away to the Baek family,” Jimin begins.
You continue. “She will make a fool out of herself and ridicule this family! She needs to be educated properly here, at home.”
Your father sighs. “Girls, you know I have tried with your sister, but she has become too complacent for my teachings. I trust Colonel Baek and his family to educate her about becoming well-behaved.”
“Father!” Jimin yells, utterly displeased. “Minji is not some farm animal you can dispose of as you please! She is part of this family, and her careless behavior is ours to own.”
“You cannot send her away or we might lose her forever.”
Your father shakes his head. “I’m sorry, girls, but my decision has been made. Minji will live with the Baek family and we will pray for success to come her way.”
You both scoff at him, infuriated by his carelessness. You leave his office and travel to the den in the kitchen, where your aunt and uncle are quietly eating. They have decided to stay for a while after dropping off Jimin.
Your aunt calls your name with joy. “Oh, you must join us this time out to the gardens in the district. It would do you well to take in some fresh air.”
You smile politely and take a seat on the bench across from your aunt. Your mind is still whirling at the thought of Minji, all alone, faring for herself at the countryside.
“I am satisfied staying here. I just returned from a trip to see a friend.”
Your uncle waves you off. “Come with us! There are many soldiers stationed in the area and plenty of suitors for your eyes to take in.”
“I have no desire to converse with them, uncle. Men are overtaken by their own arrogance or stupidity, and it would be a waste of my time to entertain them.”
Your aunt laughs mockingly at your pessimistic declaration.
“Well, what a voice of bitterness! My dear, do not allow your opinion of one man to cloud the wonderful soldiers who could bend and worship the ground you walk on,” your aunt advises.
You shake your head in disagreement.
“Men bring nothing but heartache.”
Much to your chagrin, your aunt and uncle convince you to travel with them through the district.
You are slightly grateful for their coercion as the breathtaking weather allows you to take a break from your resounding problems, albeit momentarily.
You stop in the middle of the journey as one of the wheels on your carriage is starting to lose its weight, and the coachman requires you to pull over so he can fix it. You lean on one of the nearby trees as your aunt and uncle sit beside you.
“Where exactly are we?” You ask, taking a look at your surroundings, yet all that encompasses you is trees.
“I believe we are close to the Lee estate.”
Your ears perk up. “Lee Jeno?”
“Yes, that’s the fellow,” your uncle murmurs. “I heard his estate is surrounded by a great lake. I have an immense desire to see it for myself.”
“Oh, let’s not,” you immediately object.
Your aunt and uncle turn to you with a raised eyebrow, curious about your swift rejection.
You clear your throat. “I mean, he is awfully busy, I am sure. We would not want to bother him.”
“Do not fret, dear,” your aunt assures. “Great men like him are usually never home.”
You swallow down your further protests, refusing to tell your aunt and uncle the real reason why you cannot see Jeno again.
Once the carriage is fixed, you travel to the Lee estate. As many have vouched, the estate expands beyond your wildest dreams. A large lake covers the entire front yard, with more windows and doors around the house than you could ever conjure up in your mind.
One of the maidens comes out to greet you. Your aunt and uncle are eager to receive a tour and you glance around, picturing the spots where Jeno would walk through, probably dragging that awful trench coat behind him. You giggle at the thought.
“Has something caught your interest, ma’am?” The maiden asks you and you jump, quickly wiping the smile off of your face.
“Oh, no, no. I was simply wondering if Mr. Lee’s sister was home.”
She nods. “Yes, the young girl is likely wrapped up in her piano lesson. You may go search for her while I show your aunt and uncle the gardens if you wish.”
Your aunt touches your arm fondly. “Meet us back at the lodging when you are finished.”
You faintly hear the sound of the piano drift from upstairs, and you follow the noise. You drink in your sights as you go, marveling at the expensive marble columns and gold accents of the house. You ponder over the idea of Jeno choosing the decorations himself.
You finally find the door to one of the drawing rooms, and you open it by a sliver. You catch a glimpse of Jayoon’s long hair with her back turned towards you, her fingers playing a melody as if she had memorized it from birth. You gape at the young girl’s talent.
Your heart beats wildly in your chest when Jeno’s frame comes into view, tapping Jayoon on the shoulder and surprising her. She gasps and jumps into his arms, clearly not expecting his presence.
You make the mistake of moving your foot, which causes the hard flooring to creak beneath your weight. The sound alerts Jeno and his head turns to the entrance of the doorway, where he catches your eye.
You wheeze, quickly spinning around and darting back down the stairs. You must look like a clumsy oaf but you do not care, trying your best at getting as far from the estate as possible. You manage to find yourself outside, but before you can descend down the back entryway, you hear Jeno calling your name.
You squeeze your eyes shut momentarily before slowly facing him.
“I-I apologize, I thought you were out of town.”
He swallows, his once confident stare now filled with nothing but anxiety.
“I came home a day early,” he explains.
He’s wearing that long trench coat again. You wonder if he ever takes it off.
“We wouldn’t have come if we had known you were here-“
“I had some business with my steward-“
You both pause when you realize you’re speaking over one another. His eyes soften at the sight of you.
You avoid his gaze.
“I’m visiting with my aunt and uncle.”
He nods. “And are you having a pleasant trip?”
You blink nervously. “Yes. Tomorrow we are heading to the district before going back home.”
“Tomorrow?” You swear you hear the disappointment in his voice, but it could be a figment of your imagination. “Are you staying nearby?”
You nod and tell him where you’ll be lodging. You place your hand over your chest in an attempt to control your frenzied heartbeat.
“I apologize again for intruding. They said the house was open for visitors and I had no idea you would be home-“
“You’re always welcome here,” he says, his voice filled with honesty. Goosebumps rise on your arms at his frank statement. “Shall I see you into town?”
“No, no,” you object, taking a step back. “I would much prefer to walk. I like to do that — to walk.”
You want to hit yourself over the head. You sound foolish.
Jeno just smiles, laughing to himself. You do not think you have ever seen him this way. Your stomach erupts with butterflies at the sight of his handsome grin.
“Yes, I’m well acquainted with that fact.”
You stare down at your feet, recalling the day you had run nearly three miles in the rain instead of waiting for Yujin and Yuta’s carriage. You’re curious if Jeno had to also run that far just to catch you. Did he catch a cold?
“I shall see myself off then. Goodbye, Mr. Lee.”
You curtsy, refusing to take another glance at him before fleeing the grounds of the estate.
You think about him on your walk back into the village. You envision him as a child, running through the gardens and playing games with the staff. You smile at the thought.
When you find the inn you’ll be staying at for the night, you inform your aunt and uncle of your return before slipping into your room. You decide to freshen up before supper, ridding your mind of any thoughts related to Jeno. You remind yourself that you will likely not see him again, so any of these confusing feelings that are rising need to be squashed.
Your aunt and uncle, however, have a different idea when you join them downstairs.
“My dear, Mr. Lee was just here!”
“What?”
“Yes!” Your uncle is overjoyed. “He invited us to dine with him tomorrow. You don’t mind delaying our journey another day, do you?”
“I-I suppose not.”
An ominous shiver runs down your spine.
A lively tune greets you at the Lee estate.
You pause when you see Jayoon playing at the keys with Jeno standing beside the piano to hear her. She stops when she sees you enter the drawing room, jumping up and running over to curtsy before you. She says your name with clear fondness.
You smile and return the curtsy, a little startled by her warmth towards you.
“My sister, Jayoon,” Jeno introduces, walking over. Your breath hitches at his presence.
“My brother has told me so much about you,” Jayoon beams. Your eyes flit to Jeno’s frame, and his head is bowed slightly in embarrassment. “I feel as if we are friends already.”
“It is an honor to finally meet you,” you say. “You play the piano beautifully.”
She bashfully stares down at her feet. “You flatter me so. My brother tells me you’re an exceptional player as well.”
You laugh. “Then he has uttered the most ridiculous lie.”
Jeno chuckles, staring yearningly at you.
“To be fair, I said you were a good player.”
“Ah, well good is not quite exceptional, now is it?”
He smiles at your jest. You both fail to notice how long you have been gazing at one another until Jayoon clears her throat. You divert your eyes and Jeno ignores how red his ears have gotten.
He addresses your aunt and uncle, who are standing behind you.
“I have heard your uncle is fond of fishing.”
“Yes, very much so,” your uncle replies with elation.
“I would be honored if you joined me out on the lake today,” Jeno invites, and your uncle nearly jumps for joy.
“And what about you?” Jayoon asks. “Do you play duets on the piano?”
You chuckle. “Not if I can help it.”
“Oh, brother, you must make her!” Jayoon says playfully.
Jeno looks at you. “She has quite the independent mind, dear sister. I am afraid I cannot make her do anything she does not wish.”
You do not return his stare, fearing you’ll get lost in his eyes.
Jeno and your uncle head to the lake to begin their fishing session while you and your aunt stay with Jayoon to chat and play the piano. You’re in the midst of drinking tea when Jayoon says something that nearly causes you to choke.
“My brother talks of you quite a lot,” Jayoon reveals with a knowing smile. Your aunt’s eyebrow ticks up. “He says you are different from the noblewomen we usually conversate with.”
“Yes, that sounds like something he would say,” you murmur, refusing to peer over at your aunt, who you know has a million questions to bombard you with. “I do not believe your brother chats with many noblewomen to begin with.”
Jayoon giggles. “You would fare on the correct side in relation to that guess. I have desired for him to find a lifelong partner but there has been no one who has peaked his interest until recently.”
You fiddle with your teacup, ignoring Jayoon’s smirk.
Your aunt’s puzzled tone speaks first. “How long has Mr. Lee been acquainted with my niece?”
“A few months only,” you answer before Jayoon can say something else that would embarrass you. “We met when Mr. Na first came into town.”
“Ah yes,” your aunt sighs, very familiar with Jaemin considering Jimin stayed in her home for weeks to capture his attention. “Does Mr. Na come to visit here often, Jayoon?”
She shakes her head. “Not as much lately. I believe he has been preoccupied for most of the season.”
Your aunt grumbles under her breath. You’re pleased by her disdain for Jaemin, understanding how tough this time has been for Jimin.
A maiden suddenly knocks on the door and Jayoon instructs her to enter. She says she has a letter for you and you furrow your eyebrows, taking the envelope from her hands. You recognize Jimin’s handwriting and rip open the letter immediately.
You gasp when you read its contents, placing Jayoon and your aunt on high alert.
“What is it, dear? What’s happened?”
You clutch your chest, heaving. “W-We must return home! At once!”
The two women try to stop you but you sprint out of the house and onto the lake, calling for your uncle with the most desperate voice you can muster. Jeno spots you first, quickly dropping his fishing rod and rushing over to you.
“What’s wrong? Are you injured?”
He clutches your elbows, scanning your figure for any visible wounds. You cannot stop the tears flowing down your face, your mind too overtaken with fear to think about how close Jeno is.
“It’s Minji,” you cry. “S-She has run away! With Lee Donghyuck!”
You crumble and he wraps his arms around you. Your uncle hurriedly comes to your side.
“What? When has this happened?”
“I do not know,” you choke back on your tears as Jeno gently wipes them away. “They do not know where she has gone! She has no money, no connections, no future!”
“This is my fault,” Jeno whispers. “I should have exposed Donghyuck.”
Your uncle gently takes the letter from your fingers, reading the words for himself. You hear Jayoon and your aunt approach, catching their breath from chasing you.
“What is it? What has her so enervated?” Your aunt questions.
Your uncle relays the message, including the part where your father has gone to the Baek family to search for Minji.
Jeno strokes your hair in comfort and you knock back your better judgment, digging your face into the collar of his trench coat.
“We must find Minji as soon as we can,” your aunt gasps. “If the news gets out, the family will be ruined!”
“I will fix it,” Jeno says with conviction.
You shake your head. “You can’t. This is my fault — I should have told my family the truth about Donghyuck or this wouldn’t have happened.”
“Do not blame yourself,” Jeno hisses, cupping his hands over your cheeks and forcing you to look at him. His eyes are filled with steadfast determination. “We will get this sorted.”
“I shall join your father in his search for Minji,” your uncle declares. “Mr. Lee, I ask for your favor in borrowing one of your carriages.”
“Of course,” Jeno agrees. “Jayoon, please show him the way.”
Jayoon casts another glance at you embraced in Jeno’s arms before guiding your uncle away.
“I will ask for our carriage to be prepared to take you home,” your aunt says, also leaving the two of you.
You sniffle, feeling shameful by your appearance in front of Jeno. He stares at you in distress.
“I apologize for my behavior-“
“I wish you would cease asking forgiveness in front of me. You never have to.”
Your breath hitches at his candor. Your bodies are as close to one another as the rainy day he first confessed to you. If you tilt your head forward a few inches, you could plant a kiss on his lips.
You compose yourself and take a step back.
“Mr. Lee, I-I should go.”
“Yes, yes,” he mumbles, clearly taken aback by his own actions. “I hope your family can remedy the situation.”
You turn to leave but he stutters out a request.
“And please, take care of yourself.”
You glance back at him, eyes welled with tears.
“You as well, Mr. Lee.”
When you return home, your mother is bedridden and wailing.
You and Jimin gather around her bed as she sobs. “Oh, what shall we do? You are all ruined. Who will wed you now with a fallen sister? And now your poor father will have to go off and fight Lee Donghyuck!”
You and Jimin exchange a glance. Jimin clears her throat.
“Father hasn’t even found Mr. Lee yet, mother.”
Your mother ignores her and continues. “And then Mr. Nakamoto will turn us out when your father is killed! Oh, Minji must know what this will do for my nerves. How can she vex her poor mother like this?”
You decide to head downstairs, agreeing that your mother’s avid concerns would not be subdued any time soon. You frown when you see Minjeong in the kitchen, holding a letter in her hands.
“What have you got there?”
Jimin snatches it out of Minjeong’s grasp and scans it herself. “It’s addressed to father. It’s in uncle’s writing.”
You hear the familiar sound of the carriage pulling up and you all dart outside, frantically waving the letter around.
“Father! Father!”
He groans, taking a step out of the carriage. “Let me get my bearings first.”
“It’s a letter for you! From uncle!” You say, thrusting it into his hands.
He opens it as he walks back to the house, dismissing your frantic jumping to read the contents.
“Well?” Minjeong says impatiently. “What does it say?”
“He’s found them.”
Jimin gasps. “Are they married?”
He squints. “I cannot make out the script-“
You seize it and read it for yourself. Jimin and Minjeong lurk over your shoulder.
“Are they married?” Jimin asks again.
You sigh. “They will be, under the condition that father pays Lee Donghyuck a small sum for Minji per year.”
Minjeong scoffs. “A small sum! How barbaric!”
“Well? Will you pay it, father?” Jimin questions. Minjeong takes the letter from you to read it again.
“Of course I will agree. The matter of the question is how much your uncle has already laid on this wretched man,” your father exhales, walking back into the house sluggishly.
You turn to Jimin. “What does he mean?”
She shrugs. “Uncle must have threatened Mr. Lee wickedly. For the situation, with the three of us still unmarried and the family’s reputation hanging by a thread, Mr. Lee would be foolish to only settle for a small sum.”
You scowl. “Heaven forbid the day we have to welcome that wretched man into the family.”
The day comes sooner than you think. Minji and Donghyuck arrive a few weeks later, with Minji beaming at her newfound status as a married woman. You roll your eyes at her airy nature at the dinner table.
“You must all visit the Baek family soon. That is the place to get husbands! I hope you have half of my good luck.”
“Good luck?” Minjeong scoffs. “You nearly ruined our family!”
Your mother scolds Minjeong for her outburst before turning to Minji with a smile.
“I want to hear every detail, my darling Minji.”
You and Jimin chuckle at your mother’s quick change in heart. She was out of bed and celebrating as soon as you told her the news of Minji getting married.
You exchange a look with Donghyuck across the table, and he appears remorseful. You mock him and laugh.
Minji rattles off the story about the last few weeks with Donghyuck and their wedding. You tell her you do not want to hear it but she ignores you.
“I wondered if my dear Donghyuck would be married in his blue coat, as I love the way he looks in it. And of course, because of the quick ceremony, I worried that uncle would not make it in time to be the best man. Luckily, he arrived on time or else I would’ve had to ask Mr. Lee Jeno but I don’t really like that man.”
You pause. “Lee Jeno?”
Minji gasps and covers her mouth, making sure no one else at the table heard her slip up. “Oh heavens, I forgot. I should not have said a word.”
You prod her further. “Mr. Lee was at your wedding?”
She lowers her voice into a whisper, and you realize she cannot help herself in dishing out the truth.
“He was the one who discovered us. He paid for everything — the wedding ceremony, Donghyuck’s sum, all of my new dresses, everything!” Her elated expression turns serious. “But do not say a word to anyone! He told me not to tell.”
You’re astounded by the secret. “M-Mr. Lee?” You clarify for your own sanity.
She shoots you a sour look. “Quit it!”
You sit back in your chair, feeling as if you need to catch your breath. You cannot believe Jeno went out of his way to save Minji and fix her horrid nuptials to Donghyuck. It’s no wonder that Donghyuck only asked for a small sum from your father as Jeno must have paid the rest.
You digest the information, wondering how it was possible for a man like Lee Jeno to exist and how it was possible that he so clearly loved a girl like you.
You hear rumors of Jaemin’s return to town, pushing Jimin to a state of disarray. She insists she does not care about his arrival, but when a local butcher tells you that he comes without a woman by his side, her interest is clearly piqued. You attempt to convince her to locate him, but she still persists she does not care about the origin of his visit.
You are lounging in the drawing room when Minjeong comes bursting through the door.
“He is here! Mr. Na is here!”
Her announcement sends the room into a frenzy, with your mother gasping and shooting out of her chair, nearly tripping over the furniture. Jimin is on her feet, combing her fingers through her hair and straightening her dress. You flee to the window, shocked when you see not only Jaemin approaching, but Jeno walking right beside him.
“Act natural, girls!” Your mother shouts, struggling to stand.
You quickly draw back from the window, hand over your heart. You are not thoroughly prepared to face Jeno again, especially now knowing how far he has gone to ensure your family wasn’t laid to ruin.
Your mother pushes Minjeong down into a seat and shoves some fabric into her hands to make it appear like she’s been embroidering. Jimin cries at you in despair and you help her tie a ribbon around her waist and brush her hair.
Your mother throws you a book and you all hurriedly sit in different areas of the room, looking as natural as you possibly can.
There is a knock on the door before one of your handmaidens enters.
“Mr. Na and Mr. Lee,” she introduces, stepping aside so the men can set foot in.
You all stand, curtsying as they bow. You beg your heart rate to stop thumping in your ears.
Jeno looks so attractive that it makes you want to curl into yourself and scream. He avoids your gaze, and you contemplate if he no longer wants to be with you because of Minji’s incident.
Jaemin opens his mouth to speak, but your mother beats him to it.
“How glad we are to see you again, Mr. Na! I am sure you have heard of my youngest getting married while you were away. We are very proud of her accomplishments.”
Jaemin smiles politely. “Yes, I heard the great news. I offer my congratulations.”
His eyes drift to Jimin’s form, and you see your sister smile timidly at him.
Your mother continues. “It is a shame that Mr. Lee Donghyuck lives so far. Having my youngest taken away at such an early age is no easy feat.”
You interrupt her, hoping to salvage the conversation for Jimin’s sake.
“How long are you in town for, Mr. Na?”
“Just a few weeks for the hunt.”
You forget that now is the best time for hunting season, and many men in town partake in the activity. Your eyes flit once again to Jeno’s form, and you catch him staring at you briefly before he looks away. The butterflies in your stomach will surely make you ill.
“Oh, Mr. Na, you must come here once you get bored of the game in town. My husband would love to oblige you,” your mother invites.
Jaemin’s smile never wavers. “Yes, that sounds splendid. Thank you.”
“How are you, Mr. Lee?” You ask.
You cannot help yourself. You have dreamed about him since you left the estate and he has to take accountability for your sleepless nights.
He momentarily glances at you. “I’m quite well, thank you.”
“I hope the weather is favorable when you go hunting,” you say.
He nods. “I return home tomorrow. I will not be participating in this year’s hunt.”
Your heart drops. “So soon?”
He refuses to look at you again.
“My Jimin looks beautiful, does she not?” Your mother questions Jaemin.
He stutters. “O-Oh yes, she does indeed.”
The room is filled with silence, and while you’re pleading for Jeno to look at you, Jimin is desperately wanting Jaemin to say more.
Jaemin swallows before clearing his throat. “W-Well, we must be going, I think. It was lovely to see you all again.”
“You must come visit,” your mother reminds him. “You promised last time you were in town that you would attend a family dinner.”
Jaemin awkwardly nods before scurrying out of the house. Jeno lingers, looking disappointed.
He bows his head. “Excuse me.”
The request for him to stay lays on the tip of your tongue but he exits before you can ask.
Once the two men are gone, you all collapse back in your seats. You rush to Jimin’s side as your mother voices, “How unusual!”
Your sister seems as optimistic as ever, despite the gloomy look in her eye.
“Perhaps that was for the best,” she hollowly laughs. “Now I will not have to go to bed wondering about my fate. He’s clearly moved on and is no longer interested.”
“Jimin,” you sigh, placing a hand over hers. “You do not have to fabricate your feelings to me. I may also be hiding some truths that I am not content with.”
Her head whips around. “Like what?”
Before you can finally tell her your secret, Minjeong’s voice screeches.
“He is back!”
“What?” Your mother screams, flinging her body at the window.
You catch the billowing of Jaemin’s coat before you’re being hauled up again by your mother. Jaemin enters the room in a more uncoordinated fashion, not even alerting the handmaiden so she can announce his presence. His hair is sticking up in random directions, indicating he was likely running his hands through it nervously.
“I apologize for my abrupt actions, but I would like to request an audience with Jimin if I may.”
All of your mouths drop open. Your mother speaks first.
“Everyone into the kitchen,” she instructs, and you nearly trip when she pushes you forward.
You grab Minjeong’s wrist and tug her with you. Your mother closes the door behind her and all three of you immediately press your ears against it to listen in.
“First, I must tell you that I have been a halfwitted and reckless fool,” you hear Jaemin start to say. You scoff, internally agreeing with him. Minjeong elbows you to be quiet. “And second, I want to atone for the months I have been away. My fair Jimin, I will wrong you no further. Would you do me the honor of accepting my hand in marriage?”
You all gasp.
Moments pass before Jimin’s shaky voice replies, “Yes, a thousand times yes!”
Your mother bursts open the door and screeches in delight.
“My heavens, I never believed the day would come!”
You hurry in to envelope Jimin in a hug and congratulate her. The embrace gives you a direct view of the window, where a stony Lee Jeno stands in a far distance. You hold your breath, hoping he would come inside as well and give his own second version of a proposal. You would not hesitate to accept this time.
However, he merely situates himself there for a few seconds longer before turning away and leaving. You shut your eyes, quelling the ache in your chest and pulling Jimin closer to congratulate her once again.
That night, you giggle as you lay in bed with your sister.
“A spring wedding!” She exclaims, and your heart is full at the sight of her happiness. “Oh, he just looked so nervous but he had no idea how my heart was pounding out of my chest, sister. I wish for you to be this happy one day.”
Unlike the way Minji declared it to demean you, Jimin says it with pure virtue.
You fake a smile, thinking about how you screwed up your chances of ever being with Jeno.
“Maybe Mr. Nakamoto has a friend.”
She bursts into laughter at your joke and you pretend to share her joy. Your satisfaction, however, is broken by the sound of a carriage pulling up outside.
You frown. “Do you hear that?”
It was already well past midnight, so if a visitor was approaching, it must have been with urgent news. You and Jimin hop out of bed and rush downstairs, where the rest of your family is also starting to gather.
There’s a knock at the door and your father wobbles over to answer it.
You gasp when you see who is behind it.
“L-Lady Park?”
The woman shuffles in haggardly, and you all curtsy and bow at her presence. She looks disturbed, mouth twisted into an angry frown.
Your father awkwardly talks first. “May I offer you a cup of tea, madam?”
“Absolutely not. I need to speak with your second oldest alone.”
All eyes turn to you. You swallow and step forward, gesturing to the drawing room and leading Lady Park inside. You shut the door, placing a candle on a nearby table to provide you some semblance of sight.
Your palms sweat at the thought of what Lady Park had to confront you with. Perhaps you should not have messed around with Jimin — maybe Lady Park really was here to marry you off to one of Mr. Nakamoto’s friends.
“I am sure you are not puzzled by the reasoning behind my visit.”
You blink. “You are mistaken, ma’am. I cannot conjure up why you have honored my family here tonight by your presence.”
She scowls. “I warn you, dear girl, I am not one to be trifled with. A message has reached me that my nephew, Mr. Lee, has intended to unite you in the union of marriage.” You freeze, your mind running through a myriad of scenarios. “I know this to be a scandalous falsehood, so I instantly traveled here to make my sentiments known.”
You narrow your eyes at her degrading tone. “If you had thought the rumor so impossible, I ponder why you decided to travel so far.”
She steps forward, her scowl transforming into an expression filled with more hatred.
���I came to hear it be contradicted.”
“Your appearance will only serve as a confirmation if indeed such a report exists,” you say.
“If?” She spits out bitterly. “Are you meaning to pretend to not know of it? Were you not the one who started such a malicious lie to bring down the reputation of my dear nephew?”
“I have never heard of it!” You defend yourself.
“So my nephew has not made you an offer of marriage?”
You raise your head high. “You are the one who has declared such a thing to be impossible.”
You can practically see her shake with rage. “Mr. Lee has been engaged to my daughter since their infancy. Now what have you to say?”
“If that is the case, then there is no reason Mr. Lee would make an offer to me.”
“You listen to me, you selfish girl — if you think a woman of inferior birth with a scandalous sister who married the first suitor she came across can come in and tarnish Mr. Lee’s reputation, I will surely prove you wrong. Now tell me the truth, are you engaged to him?”
You contain yourself. “I am not.”
“And do you promise to never enter such an engagement?”
You put your foot down. You refuse to allow this woman to come into your home, insult you, and forbid you from marrying the man you know you yearn for.
“I shall never promise such a thing. You have traveled here in the dead of night to offend me in every possible way and I will tolerate it no longer. I must ask you to leave.”
You swing open the door, exposing your entire family on the opposite side of it, who were likely listening in on your ordeal. Lady Park gives you one last glance, and if looks could kill, you would be six feet underground.
“I have never been so disrespected in my entire life!” Lady Park declares before taking her leave, shutting the front door with great force.
“My dear, what is going on?”
“Why does she think something is happening between you and Mr. Lee?”
“Did Mr. Lee propose to you?”
You flee from your family’s questioning, running up the stairs with tears in your eyes.
“For once in your life, leave me alone!”
It is the break of dawn when you decide to take a walk.
You could not sleep all night. Jimin slipped into your bed at one point and comforted you wordlessly, wrapping her arms around you. You thought about Jeno and Lady Park’s scornful words. If you had a little less dignity, you would have told her how her nephew proposed to you but in all your stupidity, you denied him. She would probably get a laugh out of that.
You stare down at your feet, kicking around the patches of weeds childishly. Your breath hitches when another pair of shoes land before you.
You raise your head to see Lee Jeno standing there in all of his glory.
You say the first thing that comes to mind.
“I couldn’t sleep.”
“Nor I.”
You nod, pulling your jacket tighter around your shoulders. “Your aunt was here-“
“I should make amends for such insolent behavior.”
You shake your head. “After everything you have done to save Minji and I suspect to help Jimin, I should be the one apologizing for my behavior.”
“I told you that you never have to apologize to me, didn’t I? You must know I did all of it for you.” He says, smiling. You wonder if you could ever be this infatuated with another human being. “I came here because I beg you not to trifle with me. My aunt’s visit has provided me hope — a feeling I thought had disappeared months ago. I plead with you to tell me if your affections have changed.”
He takes a step closer to you. His eyes melt with a familiar fondness.
���If they have changed, I must tell you that you have bewitched me, body and soul. I love you, and I wish to never be parted from you from this day forth.”
You can no longer hold back your grin. You close the distance, gently tugging on the lapels of his dreary trench coat. You press your lips to his and his control officially snaps, one hand wrapping around your middle and tugging you closer. He kisses you with fervor, as if it is the last thing on earth he will ever get to do.
You giggle and pull back to catch your breath.
“Tell me, please,” he whispers with desperation. “I can bear it no longer.”
“I love you,” you say, stroking your fingers through his hair. “I love, love, love you.”
He kisses you again, hand traveling to the back of your neck and pulling you as close as humanly possible. He kisses you like he is afraid that you will slip out of his grasp. Warmth pools at the bottom of your stomach at his obvious desire.
“W-We should speak to my father,” you pant against his mouth.
“Yes, yes,” he agrees, catching his own breath. “A spring wedding? Or we could get married now, I have no objection-“
You giggle. “Mr. Lee, don’t get too ahead of yourself.”
“I cannot help it. I have waited too long for you to be in my embrace.”
“Then we shall not wait a second longer.”
You marry Lee Jeno on a beautiful day in spring.
The ceremony is simple at your request, and your mother cries when you walk down the aisle. Yujin sobs when she sees you in a veil, joyful that you have finally found your happy ending.
Your father was initially confused when you came to his office hand in hand with your betrothed until you explained to him the true nature of your feelings and all of the actions Jeno had taken to save your family. Jimin and Minjeong demanded to know all of the details you kept from them, and Minji even traveled into town to also hear your side of events.
Jeno has the wedding planned faster than you can blink, stressing that he cannot endure another day without you as his wife.
You have awoken something primal in him, and it shows on your wedding night.
He nearly breaks open the bedroom door as he pushes you in, shutting it loudly and practically throwing you on the bed. You laugh when he hovers over you, pressing kisses down your neck.
“Jeno, Jeno,” you hum, smiling as he tugs your wedding dress up. “Slow down, my love.”
“I want to taste you,” he groans against your collarbone.
His deep voice sends a shiver down your spine. You have only heard stories about what happens between a husband and his wife in their bedroom. They were usually filled with salacious recountings from many of the schoolgirls around you growing up. You honestly have no idea what you’re in for tonight, but all you know is that you would let Jeno take you at his heart’s desire.
“Too many buttons,” he grumbles against your chest, and you gasp when he rips your dress clean down the middle.
“Jeno!” You begin to scold but it turns into a moan when his lips latch onto your left breast, tongue flicking at your nipple lewdly.
“You’re mine, are you not? My wife, my forever,” he mumbles, kissing down your stomach until he is face to face with your core.
You tense at the sight of him being so close to an intimate part of your body. He senses your nerves, looking up at you and interlacing his hands with yours.
“It is quite alright, Mrs. Lee,” he smirks at your new surname. “You can trust me.”
You take a deep breath and relax. “I trust you.”
The first swipe of his tongue against your core takes your breath away. Your spine arches at the exhilarating feeling. He moves your hand until it is resting on his hair, urging you to pull at the strands as you please.
He laps at your folds eagerly, lips mouthing over you passionately. You cry when he suddenly takes your clit in his mouth and sucks hard.
He unlocks a new type of pleasure you never believed was possible — tremors running down your body as you chase the high. You fail to realize your hips are moving on their own accord, twisting and riding his face.
When the pleasure begins to subside, Jeno pulls away and lets you catch your breath.
“What was that?” You wheeze.
He chuckles, hoisting himself up to kiss you. He trails kisses across your cheek.
“Did it feel good, my pearl?”
“I-I need to feel that again.”
His laughter is like music to your ears. He nuzzles his face into your neck.
“Would you like me to show you how much better I can make you feel?”
You nod and he raises his head to see you. “I love you,” he murmurs, leaning forward to kiss you again.
Since the day you confessed your feelings, he hasn’t failed to remind you of his love nearly every hour of every day.
“When this is over, will I bear your child?” You ask, genuinely curious about the answer.
He strokes your hair gently. “Is that something you want?”
You laugh and bob your head. “Of course. We simply cannot live in this grand house by ourselves. I fear I will go hysterical.”
“Then we will have as many children as you like, Mrs. Lee.”
He begins to undress and you eye him as respectfully as you can. You wish you had known Jeno was hiding his muscular glory underneath those boring trench coats. You likely would not have rejected him the first time if you were made aware.
“Please resist drooling.”
You narrow your eyes playfully. “You’re my husband. I may drool as I please.”
He grins and throws his coat and shirt to the side, slowly unbuttoning his pants. Your mouth waters when he finally takes off his undergarments.
His cock is beautiful, if you’re even allowed to say that. Pretty and pink and long. A bit of liquid leaks from the tip and you suddenly get a craving to taste it.
“We have all the time for you to do that later. I want to show you a good time now,” he says as if he can read your mind.
You smile and pull him close, pressing your lips together. You watch as he gives his cock a few tugs before lining it up to your entrance.
“This may hurt at first, but I promise it will feel satisfactory if you loosen your body,” he says, ensuring that you are listening carefully.
You nod, happy twinkle never disappearing from your eyes.
“I trust you.”
The first thrust is painful. You exhale, focusing on not tensing up your body too much as Jeno instructed. He soothes you, fingers running up and down your sides lightly.
“You are so perfect for me,” he hums. “I should have married you sooner.”
When he’s finally all the way inside, you take a deep breath. He rests his forehead on yours.
“Good?”
You stroke his cheek fondly. “Good, my love.”
He rolls his hips into yours and you groan. He picks up a steady beat until the furrow in your brow vanishes. A wave of pleasure shoots up your spine and you gasp, triggering Jeno to pick up his pace.
He grips the headboard tightly between his fingers, planting his knees on the mattress before driving into you.
“O-Oh!” You moan, not anticipating how intoxicating this would feel.
You raise your hips and subconsciously move to meet his thrusts. He groans at your effort, slowly losing it at how tight you feel around him.
“Here,” he says, moving one hand downwards to pinch your clit and roll it between his fingers.
“Ungh,” you wail, throwing your head back. “That’s so good, Jeno. Keep going.”
Vulgar sounds fill the bedroom with skin slapping skin and your moans mixed with his grunts. You probably look maniacal with the way you’re desperately chasing your high, but you have no care in the world right now.
Your mind is merely screaming Jeno’s name.
He collapses back on you, kissing you with an intensity you could not describe. You swear you see stars explode behind your eyes.
“May I try something?” He pants into your mouth.
You agree and he withdraws himself from you, nearly causing you to whimper at the loss. He grabs your hips and twists you around, taking off the scraps of your dress and flinging it to the floor. His hand pushes down your head and arches your back. You turn your head to the side and moan.
“Please, Jeno, please-“
He eases himself back inside, answering your pleas.
He breathes heavily, squeezing his eyes shut. “You are torturing me beyond no end.”
This position hits a different spot inside of you. You mewl, clawing at the sheets. You have never felt closer to Jeno until this moment with the way his cock fits so perfectly inside of you.
He leans down to press kisses to your shoulders.
“May I use you as I wish?”
The question almost has you whining.
“Whatever you like, my love. Please, use me for your pleasure.”
He drills into you, forcing his cock into your dripping hole until you weep for him. You bury your face into his pillow, preventing your screams from growing too loud when you ultimately fall into your second climax. It hits a lot harder than the first, especially since Jeno shows no signs of stopping.
You cry when he changes positions again, falling to his side and moving you to do the same, hiking up your leg until it’s wrapped around his hip. He angles himself so that he hits you deeper.
You wonder if you look like a woman vexed, completely overtaken by lust. He pounds into you to coax your third orgasm to come to bay.
You beg for him, unsure of what you’re pleading for.
“Please, please, please-“
His hand strikes at your clit, slapping it with an unexpected force. You dive headfirst into your peak, crying and whimpering until your throat is sore.
Your body tries to squirm away from Jeno’s sharp thrusts but he doesn’t let you, holding you down and turning you so that your stomach presses against the mattress again.
His cock beats into your soaking cunt before he reaches his own high, groaning loudly as he spills his seed deep into you. It is only then that he finally slows down, collapsing onto the bed and pulling you into his arms.
You both pant, trying to catch your breath as his cum leaks down your thighs.
“So we can do that all the time now?” You huff.
He laughs and kisses your forehead.
“Whenever you would like, Mrs. Lee.”
2K notes · View notes
pucksandpower · 7 months
Text
Charles Leclerc x Horner!Reader - Social Media AU
y/nhorner
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Liked by maxverstappen1, danielricciardo, and 273,816 others
y/horner waiting to get my wings
View all 529 comments
y/nbiggestfan come on red bull, give our girl her wings already!
y/nhornersupremacy i hate that the talent is right in front of them but they keep overlooking you! totally their loss
y/nhornersupremacy manifesting those wings for you soon! the grid is missing your fierceness
purplesector red bull or alphatauri would be crazy not to lock you down
womeninmotorsport the world needs more phenomenal female drivers like you ❤️
y/n4wdc the day is coming for those wings, i just know it
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y/nhorner
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Liked by scuderiaferrari, charles_leclerc, and 1,395,627 others
y/nhorner i don’t care, i paint the town red
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scuderiaferrari red is your color ❤️
charles_leclerc looks like we’ll be seeing a lot of each other 😉 welcome to the team!
y/nhorner can’t wait 🫶
gridgossip oh it’s about to go down! competing against daddy horner 👀
formulanone never call him daddy again 🥴
womeninmotorsport you go girl! time to show red bull what they missed out on
y/nbiggestfan so excited for you!
lewishamilton onwards and upwards 🙌🏾
y/nhorner thank you, lew!
formulanews red bull must be punching the air right now! y/n and ferrari are going to be a force to be reckoned with together
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La Vendicata Revitalizes Ferrari
Maranello, Italy (15 July 2024) - Scuderia Ferrari is reinvigorated in 2024 thanks largely to the arrival of young British driver Y/N Horner. Dubbed “La Vendicata” (The Avenged) by the loyal Tifosi, Horner has made an immediate impact in her first season with the team and rookie season in F1.
Her commanding victories at the Austrian and British Grands Prix added to a consistent streak of podium finishes, establishing Horner as a rising star. Beating Red Bull, her father’s team, on their home soil was sweet revenge after being passed over for a seat.
But Horner’s influence extends beyond her own results. She convinced renowned race strategist Hannah Schmitz to make the jump from Red Bull and breathe new life into the famously questionable Ferrari strategy. Schmitz’s shrewd calls have helped optimize both Leclerc and Horner’s aggressive driving styles.
Additionally, Horner brought along several top designers and engineers from Milton Keynes to strengthen Maranello’s technical team. Her rapport with teammate Charles Leclerc has Ferrari targeting its first Constructors’ Championship and Drivers’ Championship in nearly two decades.
Team Principal Fred Vasseur praised Horner’s technical acumen and work ethic. “Her talent and confidence are matched only by her preparation and diligence. Y/N understands the car and motivates the team.”
The Tifosi have quickly embraced La Vendicata’s bold charisma and flair for the dramatic. With a title challenge in sight, she has brought fresh belief and energy to Ferrari. Still very much early in her career, her potential seems limitless.
Y/N Horner is out to show Red Bull what they lost by revitalizing the Prancing Horse. With La Vendicata and Il Predestinato leading the charge, Ferrari’s glory days may soon return.
y/nhorner
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Liked by charles_leclerc, scuderiaferrari, and 784,695 others
y/nhorner i still want your hands up on my body. you still make my heart beat fast, ferrari
View all 631 comments
leclerclover it’s definitely charles! i would know those arms and legs anywhere
trulytifosi i think her boyfriend is just being supportive and wearing ferrari merch
leclerclover no way, the body language is all there. it’s definitely charles!
f1wagupdates charles and y/n would be the dream team on and off the track
lightsoutferrari let’s not jump to conclusions, it could just be a random boyfriend. charles doesn’t have a monopoly on wearing ferrari branded clothing
scuderiay/n i know that nothing’s been confirmed yet but imagine if it is charles 👀 they would have so much chemistry together
monzamash i’m manifesting them so much
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scuderiaferrari
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Liked by y/nhorner, charles_leclerc, and 2,175,834 others
scuderiaferrari when your drivers take team bonding a bit too seriously
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y/nhorner you told us that we should get close to each other so we did
scuderiaferrari as teammates, maybe friends. not close enough for the admin to be traumatized by finding you with each other’s tongue down your throats while i was just trying to get an espresso
charles_leclerc what can we say? we’re overachievers like that
maxverstappen1 so it’s okay when they do it but when i tried to kiss daniel for team bonding i got in trouble? make it make sense!
redbullracing it’s been seven years, let it go
maxverstappen1 no
ferraricentral clearly whatever they’re doing is working so no complaints here
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3K notes · View notes
peachsayshi · 3 months
Text
✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄ blessings ⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧
↬ summary: nanami kento tries to be the perfect husband and father but when a tough night fighting curses ends badly it results in nanami snapping at his daughter. 
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ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ minors / ageless / blank blogs (dni) ↬・tags: nanami x female reader; hurt/comfort; nanami has a daughter; domestic drama; being a jujutsu sorcerer is hard; momotarō is a famous Japanese folk tale :c ↬・ wc: 3,383
↬ notes: hi, everyone! I'm currently not really active at the moment so please don't feel disheartened if I haven't been responding to your messages or tagged posts. I'm taking a small break and only coming online for a bit to catch up on some messages, read fics or queue posts. I'll be back to properly posting and interacting soon but in the meantime I wanted to share that I finished up this draft over the weekend. I was actually debating if I should post this but then just decided to go for it! sending all my love xx
nanami’s head is heavy, completely clouded with despair, and it tints his brown eyes a shade of murky gray. the walls of his beautiful home feel narrow, almost claustrophobic, which explains why he’s struggling to catch his breath right now. stepping into the hallway, he instinctively peeks into the dining area to find you and his daughter eating dinner together. she’s sitting on the chair, her legs far too short to even touch the ground, holding a half eaten onigiri between her small hands. you are by her side, sneakily tidying up after her as you brush away the stray beads of rice trickling onto the table. 
a little glow blooms in nanami’s heart at the sight of you both but there is a vicious creature residing in the pit of his stomach that veils the bright light away. 
he quietly takes off his jacket, his bruised fingers loosening the tie around his neck. he clears his throat before announcing with exhaustion to you both that he’s finally home. 
your eyes meet his, the muscles on your face falling immediately. he can practically feel the blood rushing through your veins as worry washes over you. the reaction makes his chest uncomfortably tight, but he knows that he can’t hide his expressions around you like he used to. 
you both move together so fluidly now, like a single body of water that ebbs and flows to its own natural current. 
he escaped the night’s fight with a few cuts and a couple of bad bruises, but there is currently a student on shoko’s table who barely made it through. the young man arrived at jujutsu tech only a couple of weeks ago, but his naive and charismatic qualities turned into fatal flaws in the world of sorcery.
he bit off more than he could chew by trying to take on a special grade curse.  
shoko promised nanami that she would heal the boy, but admitted there was only so much she can do in regards to the aftermath of his injuries. the sorcerer couldn’t bare to leave him behind, but gojo refused that he stay and insisted that he return back home to his pretty wife and adorable daughter immediately. 
“I’ll handle things from here,” is what his superior said, while nanami’s guilt climbed up his throat. 
that student was his responsibility... 
...and he failed him entirely. 
“papa’s home!” his daughter chirps. the pitch of her voice ringing in nanami’s ears to pull him back to the present and far away from the scene where life and death were dancing together in a tango.  “papa, look, look...mama and I made onigiri!” 
her feet bounces up and down, and there’s a touch of a pink against her cheeks when her mouth stretches into a beaming grin. the innocence in her eyes makes nanami falter and he can feel himself falling deeper into the abyss. for a minute he resents himself for selfishly bringing such a beautiful thing into this world, only to gamble with the fact that she may potentially be in his shoes one day. 
he begs for that outcome to never happen, beseeches whatever higher power above him that exists to spare her from this life. she should never have to go through this, never have to experience these heartbreaks that only wither a person down. 
“I can see that,” nanami replies in a low voice before shifting his attention to his feet. 
right now, he can’t stomach an ounce of her purity, and it radiates around her like a halo. she's so unbothered by his presence, so completely unaware of the sudden change in the atmosphere around her... 
“we made tuna, salmon, and veggies...” she babbles on. 
“how nice...” nanami curtly interrupts, before anxiously running his fingers through the strands of his messy blonde hair. 
“which one do you want, papa?” she questions eagerly, pointing her sticky hands at the plate to show off the selection of triangles. 
“sweets,” you interject just as nanami turns on his heel to walk in the other direction, “how about we finish up eating our dinner, and we can save some for your daddy tomorrow...”
“nooo!” she whines far too loudly, which forces nanami to stop dead in his tracks. he glances over his shoulder to see her puffing out her bottom lip with disappointment, “you said...you said we make it so we eat together!” 
she’s only six. 
she can’t perceive that her father is struggling to hold himself together. deep down inside nanami knows that, but it isn’t enough to keep his cool. he doesn’t know why his daughter’s insistence causes him to pinch the front of his brows with annoyance or why he shoots a frustrated look in her direction. 
he doesn’t know why he’s suddenly picturing shoko calling the student’s parents to deliver the news that the man who was supposed to protect their child was unsuccessful in his duty. 
he doesn’t know why he feels at fault for everything that happened, even though the circumstances of the events were completely out of his control.  
he doesn’t know why he’s imagining himself on the receiving end of a very similar call, or why he can’t stop picturing his precious daughter on that table instead…
all of this pummels into him, and the monster emerges out from it’s cave.  
“be quiet and stop making such a fuss.” 
his voice comes out sharper than expected, and the expulsion of his frustration allows him to see the crystal clear picture before him. 
the room is dead silent. 
your face is in full shock at the hissing tone of your sweet husband snapping at his darling baby girl who he only ever speaks to with a gentle voice. 
what truly unravels nanami is the look that his daughter is giving him - her angelic features are sullen, but her eyes remain wide with surprise. her bottom lip is slack, and the only sound he can hear is her uneasy breathing. her eyes, the most beautiful gems in existence, twinkle as tears begin to form and she tries to quickly blink them away before turning her attention back to her plate.  
nanami doesn’t know he managed to stop time itself but the three of you remain frozen in place. 
he regrets his words immediately. 
he wants nothing more than to pull his precious girl close into his chest and smother her with apologies. the part of him with sense tells him to follow through and make things right with her, but instead he begrudgingly continues to wallow in his own self pity as he walks over to his room. 
・゚ ・゚·:。・゚゚・・゚ ・゚·:。・゚゚・
the house is unusually quiet now, the music of domestic joy morphing into hushed murmurs and whispers outside your room door. you settle your crestfallen daughter into her bedroom before moving to check on your husband next. 
fresh out of the shower, nanami is seated on the edge of the bed with his exhausted eyes pressed firmly into the palms of his hands. he exhales a heavy breath, his dirty work clothes still piled just outside the bathroom, and your heart nearly collapses seeing him in such a state of disarray.
you kneel before him, two hands sliding across the soft material of his sweats as you brush them along his thighs before carefully bringing them up to circle around his wrists. 
“kento?” 
he allows you to pull his palms away but your throat constricts when a band forms tightly around your neck. you swallow the lump with an upturn of your brows as you are greeted with red, exhausted eyes. you cup that handsome face in your hands, your thumbs sweetly motioning back and forth across his cheeks as you try to soothe the tension away. 
after all this time together, it hurts you to see that he still tries to hide his tears. nanami constantly holds himself to the highest standard, always ensuring that he can solidify himself as the rock for you and your daughter to depend on through thick and thin. it’s so rare for you to see him crack, to watch him crumble under the overbearing weight of the things that he is burdened to carry. 
“you had a rough night,” you point out in a low, sympathetic voice and he simply just nods his head in acknowledgement. 
his eyes flutter close again when you lean forward to press a tender, reassuring kiss on his brow. “you want a talk about it?” 
the way his voice shakes makes you shiver, but you tentatively listen as he relays the events of the night before finally concluding that satoru called him only a few minutes ago to reassure him that the student in question is alright. 
“he lost an eye, but at least he’s alive...” he concludes somberly, the warble in his final statement prompting you to wrap your arms around his neck as you pull him in for a protective hug. 
nanami receives it with gratitude, strong arms circling around your waist as he buries his nose into the crook of your shoulder and breathes in.
your scent is a reminder of his permanent sanctuary.
a safety, a reassurance of home.
you stroke his blonde locks between your fingers until he exhales, "i'm so sorry," he breathes, "I...I didn't mean to snap like that..."
a tiny smile tugs at the corners of your lips, and you unravel yourself to cup his jaw into your palms once again. "I appreciate the apology, but I don't think I should be on the receiving end of it..." you hint sweetly.
nanami closes his eyes guiltily. "I'm a horrible father."
you click your tongue with disappointment, your face falling as your disapproval pinches between the space of your brows.
"you're just human," you remind him defensively, "you're a wonderful father, the best man that our daughter can look up to"
"did you see the look on her face?" he replies, his voice unnaturally small. the tender expression he gives you is filled with regret, and it's enough to make your heart ache all over again.
"kento," you contend, "don't do this to yourself. we're both going to have days where we mess up, but that doesn't mean that the problem can't be fixed."
you thread his hair between your fingers, like your brushing through rays sunlight. "she's waiting for me to read her a bedtime story," you explain, "but I'm sure she would rather be with you instead..."
"I doubt that," your husband replies as he reaches for your hand to kiss the inside of your palm.
"we will always love you, kento," you answer back, "unconditionally. on your good days and your bad ones"
he didn't even know how desperately he needed to hear that, for your certainty to remedy away all his sorrows, until they actually left your lips.
your husband's throat tightens, tears pricking his eyes once more but he hides them away when he leans in to seek out a kiss from the woman whose heart he deeply adores.
・゚ ・゚·:。・゚゚・・゚ ・゚·:。・゚゚・
nanami leans his shoulder against the frame of his daughter's room. his heart patters lightly, making him realize that he might actually be nervous. it's strange, he thinks, that he would feel hesitant to approach his own child considering that he was her guardian but nanami had never allowed his professional life to fracture into his personal one like this before.
she's seated on the floor next to a pile of books and her stuffed rabbit secured tightly underneath her arm. there's a warmth in his chest when when he makes note of the soft toy, because he purchased that himself the day she was born and the pair have been inseparable ever since.
he clears his throat, bringing his scuffed knuckles to gently knock on the door.
"my love?" he calls out to her.
his daughter perks up, her breathing changing slightly as it rises and falls with a hint of apprehension. she glances over her shoulder to see him.
"where's mama?" she asks, her question shattering the man into a million pieces at her subtle dismissal.
"taking a shower," he answers cooly, "but I'm here to get you ready for bed..."
her lovely eyes refuse to lock into his own, and she simply tucks her lip between her bottom teeth to avoid giving nanami a reply.
she looks so much like him when he was a child. he remembered when his parents used to scold him too, and how he would also hide away in his room. the only difference is that nanami's parents were far more traditional - a time where elders were never submissive to young hearts.
"may I come in?" he requests politely, ensuring that his daughter knew she had a choice if she wanted to speak to him.
her nostrils flare slightly while she considers him, but to his relief she nods her head eagerly.
nanami steps into her room, always feeling largely out of place amongst her things. "did you find a story for bed?" he asks.
she again quietly nods her head and picks up her favorite book; a compilation of japanese folktales with beautiful illustrations. you both have been reading one for her each night ever since she got it it as a present from her grandparents.
he crouches on his knees to meet her at eye level. "you've really been enjoying this one, haven't you?" he carries on, hoping to coax more words out of her.
“yeah,” she replies in the same mousy voice of uncertainty. she shifts her attention away when she stands on her feet, clutching onto the stuffed bunny tightly while her other hand swings the book by her side.
“and what tale are we reading tonight?”
she shrugs her shoulders with indifference, a hint of pink blushing her cheek. “I dunno. I…I can just until mama is ready…”
nanami visibly slumps. her rejection an entirely new painful experience that he's never endured before. he scratches the back of his head anxiously, finding himself at a loss for words. the seconds pass, an awkward bubble surrounding both father and daughter. it’s only broken when nanami exhales a sigh, and reaches his hands towards her waist to draw her into his frame.
“darling,” he addresses tenderly, “can you look at me?”
“no, you were mean…” she blurts out, her bottom lip trembling slightly.
nanami’s heart sinks.
that’s the first time he’s ever heard those words from her lips.
“I know,” he murmurs shamefully.
her mouth forms into a tiny button of a pout but she meets his eyes for the first time as he acknowledges his behavior.
nanami arches forward to kiss her forehead, “I shouldn’t have yelled at you like that, sweetheart. I’m so sorry if I upset or scared you”
she fidgets with the book in her hand. “did you not want onigiri?” she asks, her innocence tugging the corners of her father’s lips into a small grin.
“it wasn’t the onigiri, my love,” he reassures, “daddy just…had a bad day at work…”
“why was it bad?”
nanami sighs once again.
she still doesn’t know that he’s a sorcerer. you’ve both reduced his position to her by simply explaining that nanami “helps and protects people".
thankfully your daughter doesn’t pry too hard to ask any further questions.
“someone I know got hurt. so, daddy was a little shaken up when he came home…”
"shaken up?"
"scared, my love"
his daughter shakes her head in disbelief, “nu-uh, you never get scared, papa” she rebuts.
nanami huffs out a laugh, flashing her a full grin now as he brings his fingers to his chin to to ponder her sweet statement. he quirks his brow and cheekily replies, "we can't all be brave like you," in an attempt to lighten the mood.
his daughter narrows her eyes towards his hand, her mind instantly distracted with other things already. "you got hurt too papa!" she gasps, dropping the bunny by her side to point at his knuckles.
nanami glances at his fingers covered in red marks.
"wait!" she exclaims as she places the book by his side. "I have something!"
she spins on her heel and rushes towards one of her drawers. meanwhile, nanami just takes her in with his love soaked eyes, watching as she rummages through her stuff with determination until she scurries back his way.
"got it!" she squeaks with a smile, and to his surprise she jumps right into his arms with such nonchalance it nearly make him crumble on the spot.
your voice echoes in the back of his mind: "we will always love you, kento. unconditionally. on your good days and your bad ones"
"mama bought it for me," she explains, regaining her father's attention once more.
nanami rests his cheek on her shoulder, and inhales her powdery scent as he keeps one arm warmly secured around her waist. he watches her peel off the plaster of the band aid, lbefore grabbing his hand and placing it unevenly over his knuckles.
"now a kiss!" she adds, as she brings his hand to her mouth and exaggerates a loud "mwah" sound for emphasis. "mama says the kiss is what makes it all better"
nanami instantly feels significantly better from this remedy of love. he extends his digits out, and looks at the hot pink "hello kitty" band aid that now rests comfortably on his knuckles.
"thank you, my darling," he coos and peppers her cheek with a few kisses before turning her to face him once again. "you made me feel a lot better"
she flashes him an equally large smile in return, showing off her missing teeth.
"I did?"
nanami chuckles as he scoops her up in his arms to give her a well deserved bear hug. she laughs as he stands on his two feet, and sheds away any lingering thoughts of apprehension that may have stuck.
"you always do," he reassures, his soul vibrating back to life when he feels her return his embrace. “you think you can forgive me for how I spoke earlier?”
“yeah,” she confirms and squeezes him just a little tighter. "I love you lots, papa"
"oh, my angel," he hums, "you have no idea just how much I love you too..."
・゚ ・゚·:。・゚゚・・゚ ・゚·:。・゚゚・
after winding down from your evening pampering session, you decide to pass by your daughter's room to check on your little family. you peer through the cracked door to find nanami spread out on your daughter’s bed, with your daughter curled into side and her head resting on his chest.
“did I come from a peach too like momotarō?” you hear her ask, but your heart flutters at the sight of your husband’s pearly whites.
you’ll never get over how much you love seeing him smile with such genuine emotion.
“no,” you hear nanami reply calmly, his finger lightly holding the page open. “you remember your mother explaining how you used to live in her stomach first?”
“oh yeah,” your daughter replies with a hint of disappointment over the fact that she was not birthed from a piece of fruit as mentioned in one of her favorite folk tales.
“shall I carry on?”
“uh-huh,” she answers and she readjusts her position to get even more comfortable. "I think if we look hard enough we might find momotarō..."
"you think so?" your husband wonders with honest curiosity.
"I know so, papa!"
"how many peaches do you think we need to check?"
"hmmm," she mumbles, "maybe a million?"
"a million?" your husband dramatically replies, "that's a lot of peaches don't you think,"
"I mean, it's less than a billion..." she responds quite matter of factly.
you catch his gaze from between the door that’s ajar. his expression fully relaxes, and you smile knowingly in his direction at the sight of father and daughter making up.
“papa?” his daughter questions upon his sudden silence, but your husband keeps his focus on you as he hums in acknowledgement before replying, "you're not wrong, but it'll still be quite a challenge to cut through a million peaches..."
"we might need some help," your daughter adds on.
you blow him a secret kiss as to not interrupt further, and quietly close the door before heading back to your bedroom.
2K notes · View notes
supernaturalistthings · 2 months
Text
Roadhouse
Dean Winchester x Female!Reader
Warnings: +18 contains smut
Summary: You have had feelings for Dean Winchester for a while and never thought you guys would be more than friends but on a case Dean's jealousy gets the best of him and the truth comes out.
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You set your takeout box on the desk and sigh, putting a hand to your head to rub between your eyebrows looking for some kind of stress relief. Detective Bass eyes you and sets his takeout box on the table separating the two of you and leans in, setting one of his hands on the table. His gaze is intense and it puzzles you further.
“We will figure this out” he finally says
He was partially correct, he just had the wrong “We”. You and Dean would figure this out, you had been on this case for two days now and still hadn't pinpointed what exactly was attacking the women in this town. You were utterly exhausted, this cheap pencil skirt keeps riding up, the fluorescent lighting is giving you a headache, and the autopsy results are starting to blur.
“Hey you want to turn in” he says, reaching around the table to rest his hand on your thigh. Don't get it twisted, Detectives Bass’s sharp features, dark hair, and lean build could make any woman's head turn however you have had a certain hunter on your mind and had for a while now. As if on cue you hear a familiar voice say
“Hope i'm not interrupting” Bass’s hand flinches back as Dean stands in the doorway with his hands in his pockets. 
He tensely walks forwards and takes a seat on your side of the table. Straightening his suit out as he does. He sends a look laced with daggers into your profile and you tense. You know he's as annoyed about this case as you were and try to let it go.
“You're not, we were just finishing up actually” You reply. You stand up and start to gather the files on the table when you look over. Dean's eyes aren't on you but on the detective across the table, His jaw is locked and his hand is clenched in a fist so hard that his knuckles are turning white. You turn your attention back to the papers and then look up and make direct eye contact with the detective. He was looking directly at you with his hand running over his bottom lip and chin, if you didn't know better you'd say that was lust in his eyes.
“Well it's been a pleasure working with you tonight Agent Seager…” he says referring to you, “... it's just been wonderful” He reaches a hand out intended for you to take, and you do. You shake his hand and he looks so deeply into your eyes, he might be able to see through you.
The silence is interrupted by Dean clearing his throat and standing and reaching his hand out to shake the detective's “Pleasures all mine” their hand meets and the tension is palpable. Dean is intense right now and it makes Bass shift on his feet. Your confusion was probably written on your face. Dean drops his hand but not his gaze and you put your hand on his upper arm to break the match. Dean looks at you annoyed, rolls his eyes and starts making his way towards the door with you following behind. You try to match his pace as you two hastily head toward the exit.
The big exit doors open and as soon as they do Dean turns back and without saying anything grabs your hand and starts literally walking you to the car. You're struggling to keep his pace and your mind is racing at his touch, but also his demeanor and why it is the way it is. You both come upon the car. You open the door and get in and slam it behind you, fueled by Dean's attitude. He does the same and you finally cut the tension as the engine roars to life and he pulls out of the parking lot.
“What is your issue?” You say snarkily
He says nothing and stares at the road ahead, tightening his grip on the steering wheel.
“Whatever” you say after realizing from the length of his silence that he had no intention of answering your question. You sit and contemplate what you could've done to annoy him so much and anticipate seeing the motel come into vision. But it doesn't. A run down roadhouse does. Probably even the gnarliest bikers wouldn't even touch this place yet, here we are. You snap your head in his direction the second he parks and say
“What in the actual hell are we doing here?” He rolls his eyes and looks over in your direction in one swift motion. He looks down your entire body and back up again to meet your eyes. This isn't unusual. You have caught him doing it before but never so blatantly and certainly not while harboring such annoyance for you, or what you thought was annoyance. You had always wondered if it meant anything to Dean the way you hoped it had.
It was hard to care that he was annoyed with you when he looks as stunning as he does. His tie is now loose, his jaw is sharp, his hair is slightly tousled from running hand through it occasionally on the drive to the roadhouse. It was possible you were also giving him a subconscious once over and he must have noticed. He smirks and his eyes flicker from your lips to your eyes.
“I'll forget you let Detective Bass have the pleasure of undressing you with his eyes if you join me for a drink” he says still smirking and with a bluntness that stirs something inside of you but you're quick to retort 
“I didn-”
“Yes or no..” he says interrupting and without breaking eye contact, still smirking.
Your mind is racing with all the possibilities right now, swimming with all the endless ways this night could unfold. All you can say is
“Yes” with that he grins a jackpot smile and opens his door to get out you're too stunned to move when your door opening breaks you from your thoughts. You turn and see Dean's hand stretched out for you to take. You follow your eyes up and meet his green ones and they're a shade that you've never noticed before with an apparent sparkle. You take his hand and allow him to lift you out of the seat of the impala. He shuts the door behind and you and you take one last glance at each other before you both head hand in hand into the rundown roadhouse.
He opens the door for you and and you're confronted with a loudly playing “Night Moves’ by Bob Seager, rainbow strobe lights and the smell of cheap beer and cigarettes. You look over at Dean with a look that says really? and he says 
“Oh cmon, give it a chance” and with that he takes his hand that was previously holding yours and grabs your waist and pulls you to him. You're tucked firmly into his side and he walks the both of you over to the bar and orders a beer, a shot of whiskey for himself and a tequila cran for you. Your favorite, he noticed.
The first round comes and goes and so does a second and half of the third before you need a bathroom. You wait for Dean to finish a genuinely engaging story, all of them have been you love just talking and getting to know him without the thought of the world's doom on your shoulders. Right now it feels like only you two matter and every word that spills from his beautiful lips fuels this. You say you'll be right back and he smiles as you silently slightly struggle to lift yourself off the seat, It felt like you had been on for way too long.
You make your way to the bathroom and open it up and find it's not as gross as you were expecting. Shocked and pleased, you head to the sink and look at yourself in the mirror. Your hair is slightly disheveled from running your hands through it while talking with Dean, your dress shirt had opened an extra button and your skirt was becoming a little too short. You looked kinda hot in a messy sort of way but you decided to straighten yourself out and splash some water on your face to hopefully offset the alcohol coursing through your system at the moment.
You rest your hands on either side of the sink and try to compose yourself with use of your reflection when the door you thought you locked behind you opens and shuts. You quickly turn around to face the intruder and are met with Dean. He's staring at you in a way that takes your breath away and urge to curse him out for barging in. He looks at you the way you've always wanted him to look at you. He’s breathless himself when he slowly reaches his hand behind him to turn the lock on the door.
His eyes don't leave yours. He takes a few steps forward until you can feel each other's breath fanning over each other's cheeks. You can't think of anything else other than the hue of his green eyes, the few freckles he has, and how kissable his lips look.
“You drive me crazy… and you have for a while now” he says as he lifts his hand to brush some hair from the sides of your face.
“What-” you say, feeling like you're gasping for air.
“I can't see you with anyone else… ever'' there's a brief silence and then he tilts his head and whispers against your neck  “i adore you… you have no idea what you do to me..” his hands slowly and tenderly grasp your waist and you’re having trouble deciphering if this is actually happening or if that third tequila cran has you hallucinating on the sidewalk somewhere. All you know is his hands feel really real on your waist and his breath on your neck travels all the way down to where you want him most, that also feels very real.
“Say anything..please… I'll take anything right now…” He pulls back without taking his hands away from your waist, thankfully, the feeling is electrifying. His face has a tinge of worry of doubt and you can't stand it.
“I feel the same…” You say taking the sides of his face into your hands. You watch as the doubt is erased from his face and that jackpot Dean Winchester grin creeps its way onto his face once again.
“...I have for a while now” you say with your own grin. Proud of stealing his line and finally admitting your feelings to the man you adore. He leans in, sealing your lips and in this moment it feels fate. His hands move from your waist to the sides of your face as if he can't possibly get enough of you. The kiss is passionate, tender, everything you both ever wanted. Your hands ignite wildfires across each other's bodies as you explore and feel what you had both wanted more than anything for a long time now.
He places his hands on the sink behind you, caging you in and breaks the kiss to look down and steady himself. He feels ravenous right now and it's taking everything in him to not rip your clothes off and take you right here. You're not making it any easier as that is exactly what you want right now, it's exactly what you need. He looks up with his mesmerizing green eyes and says
“You have no idea how bad I want you right now...”
“Nothings stopping you...” you say in a whisper hovered against his lips while you regather the sides of his face into your hands. He kisses you again but this time with no sign of an end or hesitation. You pull his tie with both hands until it's undone and throw it to the floor. The kiss is feverish and intense. You love the feeling of him and he feels the same.
You start to undo the many buttons on his dress shirt and he starts to do the same to you almost as if in a race. You fling it off his shoulders and pull it down his strong arms. You help him slide yours down your shoulders and sneak a quick glance as it falls to the floor. You're both panting, desperate for air but even more desperate for each other. He carefully moves his hand over your breasts through your bra and just like that you're a moaning mess. 
“I want to see you… all of you” he says as he puts his hands back to your waist and turns you so you're facing the mirror. He unclasps your bra while standing behind you and slides the straps off your shoulders and as you watch as it falls off your frame onto the floor. He's kissing your neck and has his hand on the other side. His free hand is trailing its way from your nipple, to your stomach, to the ends of your now very ridden up pencil skirt.
He pulls it up all the way to your stomach and starts rubbing you through your panties. Soft circles to match the soft wet kisses all over your neck, the other hand moves down your chest and cups your breast and massages. His touch is euphoric and all you want is him. You can feel that all he wants is you from his hardness pressed onto your backside.
“You'll never want another man after what I'm going to do to you… I can promise you that sweetheart…” he whispers against your neck, while continuing to place soft hypnotic kisses, and rub circles over your clothed clit. You can see yourself unraveling through what glimpses you can catch in the mirror. You're rested against his toned chest with your head thrown back and eyes screwed shut moaning and gasping out Dean's name. He has just found his new favorite song.
When he pulls away, you snap your head to look in the mirror just to catch his devious eyes before he turns you once again to face him. He leans down and simultaneously reconnects your lips and lifts you so you're resting on the edge of the sink. His hands are on your thighs and he's standing between them. You guys are kissing all over each other. It's heavenly. You're both grinding against each other and you start to undo his pants and tug them down. He helps and pulls them the rest of the way down.
He's already hard and he's big. Bigger than you'd ever had. You take him into your hands and start pumping him eliciting a string of moans and grunts that only fuels you more. He’s wanted this for so long and it was about to happen. He takes himself from you and looks at you with a question, are you sure? You nod wanting nothing more. He smiles and kisses you again. He hooks a single finger around your panties and moves them to the side. He slides himself along your slick folds, relishing the feeling.
He slightly pushes the tip in and moves in and out slowly giving you time to adjust. He's panting and gasping at the tightness. You're grasping at his shoulders and loving the sensation. He pushes in further and you're singing his name in praise. He starts to move and then moves feverishly. You both have wanted this for so long you can't get enough. Youre hand are running everywhere over eachothers bodies and hes holding you in his strong arms as he fucks you. You can feel yourself unraveling and judging by the slight sloppiness of his thrusts, he's almost there as well. You tighten around him and cum which seems to set him over the edge and the next thing you feel is him spilling out of you. 
You're both a mess and simultaneously rest your heads on each other's shoulders trying to catch your breath.
“That was-”
“Amazing” he cuts you off and picks himself off your shoulder still breathless and gives you a quick kiss. Neither of you move, unsure if you ever wanted to leave this bathroom, this moment. You just stay in eachothers eyes for a bit.
“We should get going” you say with a smile crossing your arms around his neck
“So eager for round two?” he replies with that signature smirk grabbing your waist and pulling you off the sink to stand. He holds you there.
“If that's what it takes to get us out of this place faster than absolutely” you say with a laugh and it earns one from him as well. You both redress yourselves, helping each other along the way. You’re both smiling and giddy and it's just comfortable.
You both go to walk hand and hand out of the roadhouse bathroom and as soon as the door opens you're both greeted with an embarrassingly long line of skeevy bar patrons, all shooting daggered stares you and Dean's way. 
“Worth it” he says while looking at you, dare you say lovingly.
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ellabscrush · 3 months
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— when i suck it, i look in your eyes
strap sucking w/college!ellie williams x fem reader
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🇵🇸 boycott & ways you can help 🇵🇸
» cw; mdni, fem!reader, afab!reader dom!ellie, stubborn!reader, dirty talk, praising, finger sucking, breast play, no use of y/n
» sypnosis; your girlfriend has been studying for hours and you’re getting needy. knowing her weakness, she finally gives in and oh how she needed a distraction from her studies.
» a/n; hii, this is my first drabble, i’m nervous lol ᰔ hope you enjoy!
⋆ ˚。⋆୨୧˚
“els i’m boredd,” you dragged your feet as you walk over to the couch where your girlfriend is typing on her keyboard like crazy.
ellie jumps, “uh… not done yet babe,” her eyes never leaving the screen.
you rolled your eyes.
you don’t know what’s gotten into you. you tried respecting her space because often times you would let your girlfriend come over to do her homework and enjoyed each other’s presence. it was chill. she would give you some sort of affection from time to time.
however, ellie has been sitting in the same spot for hours. no lunch break, bathroom break, or checking on her girlfriend break.. it was frustrating on your behalf. still watching her in silence as her eyes stare at the bright screen, you try again.
“so you’re just gonna write all day and not give me a kiss?” you teased, no answer from the brunette.
“ellie williams i’m talking to yo-“
“just give me five minutes fuck!” ellie snaps, cutting you off.
not only you hate it when ellie ignored you, but you absolutely despised yelling. even when you both know she doesn’t mean to. you weren’t mad cause that’s when you realized she was tensed and finally needed a break. you know exactly what she needs.
ellie closes her eyes, “s-sorry for yelling i didn’t mean to-“ she stammered.
you’ve had enough. you grabbed her laptop off her lap and adjusted yourself on hers. knowing her weakness, you lift up your shirt to expose your bare tits infront of her face. her expression had changed from confused to serious quickly.
“this is how i get your attention huh?” you smirked.
suddenly, ellie grabs your neck and both of your lips clashes to eachother, resulting in a sloppy make out while her other hand is firmly gripping onto your waist.
the kiss was fast, deep, and desperate. oh how much you missed her. she missed you even more.
“you know me so fucking well” she whispers in between, “and so fucking needy.”
you whimpered at her words, “very.”
your voice is like heaven in her ears. the kisses slowly went to your neck, and down to your breasts. ellie’s slender hands pushed your tits up, making you gasp because of how hard her grip was.
“f-fuck be gentle please..” you shut your eyes as she bites the living skin off your tits.
“shut the fuck up.” ellie hisses, slapping your tits.
the unexpected gesture made you turned on. your hips start to rock over her jeans, trying to find some friction. your girlfriend is just in cloud nine right now watching you crave for her attention.
your hips move faster, “baby.. need you so bad..” you cried.
ellie’s face lights up, she didn’t say a word but gently lifted you off her lap and disappeared in the bedroom to get a little surprise. she soon came back with your favorite dildo infront of your face, turned on just seeing this sight of ellie.
“on your knees,” ellie ordered, “since you’ve been pestering me all day i need you to be a good girl for me..”
she says as her thumb circles around your mouth, wanting to be let in your wet mouth. so you obeyed.
“mm, fuck” she chuckles, “you really wanted this huh?”
you nod with those fuck eyes of yours. you didn’t even realize it but your shirt was still lifted up, exposing your bare chest. ellie’s free hand starts massaging them as they are her little stress balls.
“want my cock in your mouth?” ellie whispers, “mmm y-yes,” you mumbled.
so desperate that you start stroking her strap, ellie was soaked in her boxers at this point.
ellie then took her thumb out and guided her strap into your mouth. grunting like she swore she could felt it. it was a sight. a sight where ellie pulled out her phone and started recording you sucking her cock in and out, whispering praises.
“good slut..”
“that’s my girl, go deeper for me..”
“want this cock in your tight cunt later..”
the room was filled with filthy lewd sounds like a porno , honestly it could be if ellie posted that video. but she would never. it was only hers to see.
your mouth was getting sore but ellie kept pushing you in more, making you choked a little bit. not only she loved hearing the sounds of your wet slick, she loved to hear you cry and gag on her strap.
muffled words coming out of mouth, ellie didn’t care what you were saying. you were just so pretty in her eyes, on your knees for her as you should be.
“mhmph, keep going.. faster” she whimpered, your mouth was gliding so easily on the silicone.
you took out the strap out of your mouth to show your girlfriend how much of a drooping mess your mouth made.
“i love you els.. i’m all yours,” you say as you were waiting for that affection you’ve been needing all day from her as well.
“love you so much pretty girl..” she whispers.
she was so glad you gave her that much needed break.
⋆ ˚。⋆୨୧˚
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dekariosclan · 4 months
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Imagine Gale as a talented and impressive young man, able to compose the Weave at will, skilled in a way that few can match, and favored by the Goddess of Magic herself. Imagine that because of these accomplishments, he’s caught the eye of a few up-and-coming magic adepts, and he falls in love with one of them—his first real love. Gale isn’t one to toss the ‘L’ word around lightly, so when he tells them he loves them, he means it; he gives himself over to them completely.
And in return, they love him for his potential. For his status. For the magic he can command. They love the wizard they see on the surface, but not the man underneath. They are attracted to his power, but not to him.
So of course the relationship fails, after the thrill of his magic wears off. But because Gale is a resilient young man and he’s caught the eye of so many, he soon falls in love with another.
And then it happens again. And again.
And each time Gale’s heart is ravaged, his ambition to become a better wizard grows, because he’s being shown time and time again that his magic ability is all that matters.
So much so that, by the time Mystra decides to elevate him from Favored to Chosen to Lover, he welcomes her with eager, desperate arms. Because if all his worth is in his magic, and that’s all he has to offer, and that’s all anyone wants from him, who better to love him than the Goddess of Magic herself?
Except…there’s a nagging voice in the back of his head that whispers she doesn’t really love him. There’s anxiety in his heart as time passes, and he reaches both the limit of what his talents can do and what Mystra will allow him to do. And most troubling of all: a growing panic that, just like his other lovers, she will soon grow tired of him and discard him if he can’t improve his magic any further.
He tries pouting, and pleading, and begging her to let him take more power, to let him be more for her, but she refuses. Smiles patronizingly. Tells him to be patient. But Gale can’t be patient when his power is tied so closely to his self-worth; he can’t be patient when doing so in the past has only ever lead to heartache.
So he does what he believes will be a Grand Romantic Gesture, one that will finally put him on equal footing with the woman he loves. Instead, it turns out to be a folly that dooms him and destroys his talents. And just as he’d always feared, Mystra tosses him aside the moment his magical gifts are gone—because what’s left of him holds no value for her.
————
Imagine Gale in his tower, alone, afraid, the ever-hungry orb in his chest, with only his tressym there to help him. No other friends to speak of. His colleagues forced to keep away for their own safety. His magical talents utterly stripped down, so that even when he does try and distract himself with illusions, he’s bitterly reminded of what he used to be capable of. Waking every morning wondering if it will be his last, ending every day full of loneliness and disappointment.
…and then he meets Tav.
At the lowest point in his life, at his most vulnerable, when he knows he’s going to be considered a burden, he meets this stranger and their group. So he does what he can to be useful—assigning himself to be camp cook, offering up his (now meager) magic skills, turning the charm up to 11—as he desperately hopes this will somehow work out. He’s pleasantly surprised when, after providing only minor details of his condition, Tav agrees to help him. He’s even more surprised when they actually follow through.
Imagine how Gale feels as Tav treats him kindly. As he grows to trust Tav, and then grows to like them. Imagine his surprise as he opens up and shows them more and more of himself, and they don’t turn him away.
But then his condition worsens. And he has to reveal everything: the foolish mistakes he’s made, and how dangerous he is as a result. He clings to Tav’s hand as he shows them his folly. He’s at their mercy now, and he knows this might be the last time he’ll ever feel the touch of another being, if they decide—and Gods, why wouldn’t they decide?—to cast him out.
…but they don’t. They don’t. Instead, they tell him to stay.
Imagine the relief Gale feels. The gratitude. And perhaps…just a hint of something more. Something that he dare not name, but that flares to life every time he thinks of how warm their hand was in his. Something that feels dangerously close to jealousy, when he’s had too much to drink and sees Tav smiling at another…
But he knows these are all foolish thoughts, because he has nothing to offer Tav. They are wonderful just as they are, but he…he is an empty shell of a man, a discarded husk of a wizard, and while they might tolerate him, he could never believe they might actually want him.
And besides, he still thinks of Mystra. He still longs for Mystra. She who cast him out, but to whom he still feels tethered. Sometimes he needs to cocoon himself in the weave, just to try and calm his fears and bring some joy back to his life, because magic is his life. And sometimes he just needs to see her face, even though that hurts as much as it heals.
One night he’s lost in thought, having conjured Mysta’s image after settling down at camp. Thinking that even if she hadn’t ‘loved’ him—certainly not in the way he’d loved her—she’d given him enough otherwise, hadn’t she? She’d amused him and been amused by him, they’d shared countless pleasures, why hadn’t he been satisfied with that?
Gale is so lost in thought he doesn’t realize Tav has come up behind him. Until they ask a question, startling him out of his trance. He’s a bit shaken, so he tries to turn the conversation from Mystra to the weave itself. And then a wonderful idea occurs to him, something that he’d been toying with already: what if they were to conjure the weave together?
He can show Tav how important magic is to him, let them experience what he does, perhaps even impress them a bit. But most importantly, share a moment with them. As friends would do…
He’s elated when Tav agrees. He leads them through the steps effortlessly, and they’re a surprisingly good student, following his instructions correctly (if a bit clumsily). He’s as excited as they are—perhaps even more so!—when they succeed in channeling the weave.
It’s such a pleasant, familiar feeling for him, like coming home to his tower in Waterdeep. Even as the weave connects him with Tav and makes them one, he’s easily able to hide his innermost thoughts, because he’s done it so many times before.
…but he’s forgotten that Tav has not.
————
Imagine Gale knowing every romantic partner he ever had only wanted him because of how he could raise their status, or how he could amuse them, or how he could command magic for them. And, each time, he was happy to oblige them, even desperate to oblige them, because if that was the price of their love, then he was sure it would be worth it.
But it still all came to nothing.
Now imagine Gale connected in an intimate way with someone he likes very, very much—while being what he considers his lowest, most worthless, and most humbled self. As far from the powerful, impressive wizard he once was as he could ever be. And suddenly a vision enters his mind from the lovely creature standing next to him. Only, to his complete and utter shock, it isn’t one where he is providing them with a service, or wowing them with his magical ability, or granting them some kind of power from one of the spells he commands.
Instead, when he sees their desire laid bare before him, it’s a vision of kissing him. Of holding his hand. The two most basic forms of affection and physical connection. The two things that he would still be able to offer them even if every last ounce of his remaining magical abilities were stripped from him. The two things he could share with them even if he was no longer Gale of Waterdeep, and just plain old Gale Dekarios instead.
Imagine the embarrassment and trepidation he feels at first, because surely he is mistaken?…and then the elation when he realizes that he is not. So much elation that his concentration is broken, the weave dissipating as he forgets about channeling it, as he forgets about Mystra. Because all that matters to him now is the image before him—the most pleasant and welcome image he’s seen in a very, very long time.
Imagine how that would feel…and how besotted, enamored and completely devoted he’d be to Tav afterwards. To know that someone finally—finally—just wants him.
Just imagine.
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rose-tinted-kalopsia · 2 months
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≡;-꒰  𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐃 (?) 𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐒  ꒱₊˚ ପ⊹ 𝑳𝒐𝒗𝒆 & 𝑫𝒆𝒆𝒑𝒔𝒑𝒂𝒄𝒆 𝑩𝒐𝒚𝒔: 𝑨𝒘𝒌𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒅 𝑴𝒐𝒎𝒆𝒏𝒕𝒔 𝑫𝒖𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝑺𝒆𝒙
──  mdni sexual content. inclusive of: vaginal sex, slight pet name usage, shower sex, getting caught, sex as a stress reliever. but overall this is a lot of fun LMAO
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the truth, is that caleb would always be willing to experiment.
he's had so much pent up for you, that you'll frequently find he has something in new in mind to try out with you—or, in short, he liked to find new ways to have his way with you. so it wouldn't surprise you that eventually, you'd have your hands pressed against the glass, your head tilting back to meet his kisses. of course, it would feel good, like it always did. his cock would fill you so well, and taking it from behind made you feel everything so much more deeply. it would be oh so asy for both of you to get lost in the pleasure, droplets from the shower, running down your back, the rush of water doing nothing to drown out your moans.
... but shower sex is never just rainbows and butterflies, and sometimes, being fucked silly allows all sense of rationality to go down the drain.
it's quick, when it happens—caleb accidentally knocks down the bar of soap, and the already-running water makes things progressively worse. you gasp, wide-eyed, as you slip, and caleb seems just as surprised as you. perhaps, his reflexes did him no favors in the moment, as his attempts to catch you only have him slipping on the very same trail of soap you'd also slipped on.
the both of you remain on the shower floor with agonizing pain, and perhaps you look more like a drenched, unsatisfied cat than anything else.
"shit—fuck—m'sorry, pipsqueak..."
"...we should just stick to the bedroom next time."
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sex with rafayel is always so intoxicating.
he'd have himself buried inside of you in a way that just feels so right, so perfect, that you would always find yourself lost in the moment. whether he goes slow, or fast, or even if he lets you take charge, the result is the same—you could only ever focus on him, him, him. perhaps, it was intentional on his part, but you liked it that way. he made you feel good.
except sometimes, rafayel was too much of an airhead that your distraction wouldn't always end well... such as one particular morning, where he had you pressed against his couch, fucking you as well as he always did, and the sound of footsteps barely registered in either of your ears.
"rafayel, why aren't you answering my calls? i told you, this is an important deal, and—holy fucking shit! are you insane?!!"
rafayel never quite bothered to lock the door, and though you knew this and tried often to get him to do it, there were still times that he would... forget.
such as right then.
in that moment, you would yelp, hitting at his chest, barely having the strength to push him off of you as he hastily throws a nearby blanket over the two of you instead.
and thomas would storm away, eyes shut tightly.
"god! lock the door, rafayel, seriously! just—just finish whatever you're doing and call me back!"
"yeah, yeah. bye, now!"
"...rafa?! never let that happen again!"
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in the years you've spent together, you had come to the conclusion that xavier liked to relieve his tension in very specific ways.
you didn't mind it, of course; in fact, you enjoyed it. it's become an established part of your week, him pressing you against the door in as soon as you get home from a particularly tiring mission, soft kisses gradually turning more heated and passionate as he leads you into the bedroom. these moments were some of the only times he'd allow himself to be more selfish with his desires for you, and with no surprise, you'd find yourself looking forward to it—expecting it.
but on one particular night, you find him to be less... dominant, than he usually would be with you in these moments, almost passive. but his hands still roam your body, brushing against all the sensitive spots he's memorized like the back of his hand, still kissing you in a way that would make you melt—so you don't question it immediately. perhaps, you think, he wanted you to take the lead this time.
except, you reach down, and he's...
...not hard at all.
even as you rub against him, as his lips place soft kisses on your neck—
there's no reaction.
he looks up feebly and then you find the telltale traces of exhaustion on his face, the tips of his ears pink with embarrassment. his eyes are nearly drooping closed.
"sorry, angel, i'm too.... i think... i think i just really want to sleep right now, after all..."
"...oh..."
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over the course of the past couple of weeks, you'd found that zayne's adorable affection for cats had gotten the better of him.
the calico cat you'd often see roaming his street would now prance happily around his house, feeling almost more at home than zayne himself—surely, at least, that it was certainly home more often than him. you found it adorable, and sweet, and you loved it, you really did!
but...
your more passionate nights with zayne would be rare enough as it is considering his busy schedule, and it was unfortunate that you now hard a rather... entitled audience.
he would by thrusting into you so nicely, so deeply, your legs hooked over his shoulder as he leaned in to whisper sweet nothings into your ear. often, your eyes would be closed as you took in every bit of pleasure he would give to you, fully focused on the feeling of his cock stretching your walls the way you so desperately needed.
...only now, when you open your eyes, you find that a certain ball of fluff had casually walked over to lay on zayne's back.
your eyes lock, and it's almost as if the moment is completely lost.
zayne would stop thrusting, noticing your change in mood, and then he'd recognize the weight on his back.
"...sorry, sweetheart... should i—"
"....it's staring."
"..."
"zayne, maybe... we should do this at my place next time..."
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⁺₊ / an: light moments to start the day!!! 💖 it was super hard to choose what exactly to write because there's a lot of awkwardness that goes into sex, but i hope this was a fun little read~
© rose-tinted-kalopsia. all rights reserved. do not: steal, copy, repost, reupload, modify, or claim any of my works as your own, regardless of credit given. absolutely do not use my works for AI training and other related purposes.
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mcmansionhell · 1 year
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this house may or may not be real
on grayness in real estate
Allegedly, somewhere in Wake Forest, North Carolina, a 4 bed, 5.5 bathroom house totaling more than 6,600 square feet is for sale at a price of 2.37 million dollars. The house, allegedly, was built in 2021. Allegedly, it looks like this:
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A McMansion is, in effect, the same house over and over again - it's merely dressed up in different costumes. In the 90s, the costume was Colonial; in the 2000s, it was vague forms of European (Tuscan, Mediterranean), and in the 2010s it was Tudor, dovetailed by "the farmhouse" -- a kind of Yeti Cooler simulacra of rural America peddled to the populace by Toll Brothers and HGTV.
Now, we're fully in the era of whatever this is. Whitewashed, quasi-modern, vaguely farmhouse-esque, definitely McMansion. We have reached, in a way, peak color and formal neutrality to the point where even the concept of style has no teeth. At a certain moment in its life cycle, styles in vernacular architecture reach their apex, after which they seem excessively oversaturated and ubiquitous. Soon, it's time to move on. After all, no one builds houses that look like this anymore:
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(This is almost a shame because at least this house is mildly interesting.)
If we return to the basic form of both houses, they are essentially the same: a central foyer, a disguised oversized garage, and an overly complex assemblage of masses, windows, and rooflines. No one can rightfully claim that we no longer live in the age of the McMansion. The McMansion has instead simply become more charmless and dull.
When HGTV and the Gaineses premiered Fixer Upper in 2013, it seemed almost harmless. Attractive couple flips houses. Classic show form. However, Fixer Upper has since (in)famously ballooned into its own media network, a product line I'm confronted with every time I go to Target, and a general 2010s cultural hallmark not unlike the 1976 American Bicentennial - both events after which every house and its furnishings were somehow created in its image. (The patriotism, aesthetic and cultural conservatism of both are not lost on me.)
But there's one catch: Fixer Upper is over, and after the Gaineses, HGTV hasn't quite figured out where to go stylistically. With all those advertisers, partners, and eyeballs, the pressure to keep one foot stuck in the rural tweeness that sold extremely well was great. At the same time, the network (and the rest of the vernacular design media) couldn't risk wearing out its welcome. The answer came in a mix of rehashed, overly neutral modernism -- with a few pops of color, yet this part often seems omitted from its imitators -- with the prevailing "farmhouse modern" of Magnolia™ stock. The unfortunate result: mega-ultra-greige.
Aside from war-mongering, rarely does the media manufacture consent like it does in terms of interior design. People often ask me: Why is everything so gray? How did we get here? The answer is because it is profitable. Why is it profitable? I'd like to hypothesize several reasons. The first is as I mentioned: today's total neutrality is an organic outgrowth of a previous but slightly different style, "farmhouse modern," that mixed the starkness of the vernacular farmhouse with the soft-pastel Pinterest-era rural signifiers that have for the last ten years become ubiquitous.
Second, neutrals have always been common and popular. It's the default choice if you don't have a vision for what you want to do in a space. In the 2000s, the neutrals du jour were "earth tones" - beige, sage green, brown. Before that, it was white walls with oak trim in the 80s and 90s. In the 70s, neutrals were textural: brick and wood paneling. We have remarkably short memories when it comes to stylistic evolution because in real time it feels incremental. Such is the case with neutrals.
Finally, the all-gray palette is the end logic of HGTV et al's gamified methodology of designing houses with commodification in mind: if you blow out this wall, use this color, this flooring, this cabinetry, the asking price of your house goes up. You never want to personalize too much because it's off-putting to potential buyers. After twenty years of such rhetoric, doesn't it make all the sense in the world that we've ended up with houses that are empty, soulless, and gray?
A common realtor adage is to stage the house so that potential buyers can picture their own lives in it. In other words, create a tabula rasa one can project a fantasy of consumption onto. Implied in that logic is that the buyer will then impose their will on the house. But when the staged-realtor-vision and general-mass-market aesthetic of the time merge into a single dull slurry, we get a form of ultra-neutral that seems unwelcoming if not inescapable.
To impose one's style on the perfect starkness is almost intimidating, as though one is fouling up something untouchable and superior. If neutrality makes a house sell, then personality - at all - can only be seen as a detriment. Where does such an anti-social practice lead us? Back to the house that may or may not exist.
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In my travels as McMansion Hell, I've increasingly been confronted with houses full of furniture that isn't real. This is known as virtual staging and it is to house staging as ChatGPT is to press release writing or DALL-E is to illustration. As this technology improves, fake sofa tables are becoming more and more difficult to discern from the real thing. I'm still not entirely sure which of the things in these photos are genuine or rendered. To walk through this house is to question reality.
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Staging ultimately pretends (sometimes successfully, sometimes not) that someone is living in this house, that you, too could live in it. Once discovered, virtual staging erases all pretensions: the house is inhabited by no one. It is generally acknowledged (though I'm not sure on the actual statistics) that a house with furniture - that is, with the pretense of living -- sells easier than a house with nothing in it, especially if that house (like this one) has almost no internal walls. Hence the goal is to make the virtual staging undiscoverable.
If you want to talk about the realtor's tabula rasa, this is its final form. Houses without people, without human involvement whatsoever.
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But what makes this particular house so uncanny is that all of these things I've mentioned before: real estate listing photography, completely dull interiors and bland colors all make it easy for the virtual furniture to work so well. This is because the softness of overlit white and gray walls enables the fuzzy edges of the renderings to look natural when mixed with an overstylized reality. Even if you notice something's off in the reflections, that's enough to cause one to wonder if anything in the house is real: the floors, the fixtures, the moulding, the windows and doors.
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This is where things are heading: artifice on top of artifice on top of artifice. It's cheap, it's easy. But something about it feels like a violation. When one endeavors to buy a house, one assumes what one is viewing is real. It's one thing if a realtor photoshops a goofy sunset, it's another to wonder if anything in a room can be touched with human hands. I won't know what, if any, part of this estate costing over 2 million dollars actually exists until I visit it myself. Perhaps that's the whole point - to entice potential buyers out to see for themselves. When they enter, they'll find the truth: a vast, empty space with nothing in it.
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The better this rendering technology gets, the more it will rely on these totally neutral spaces because everything matches and nothing is difficult. You are picking from a catalog of greige furniture to decorate greige rooms. If you look at virtual staging in a non-neutral house it looks immediately plastic and out of place, which is why many realtors opt to either still stage using furniture or leave the place empty.
Due to the aforementioned photography reasons, I would even argue that the greigepocalypse or whatever you want to call it and virtual staging have evolved simultaneously and mutualistically. The more virtual staging becomes an industry standard, the more conditions for making it seamless and successful will become standardized as well.
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After all, real staging is expensive and depends on paid labor - selecting furniture, getting workers to deliver and stage it, only to pack it back up again once the property is sold. This is a classic example of technology being used to erase entire industries. Is this a bad thing? For freelance and contract workers, yeah. For realtors? no. For real estate listings, it remains to be seen. For this blog? Absolutely. (Thankfully there is an endless supply of previously existing McMansions.)
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The thing is, real estate listings no longer reflect reality. (Did they ever to begin with?) The reason we're all exasperated with greige is because none of us actually live that way and don't want to. I've never been to anyone's house that looks like the house that may or may not exist. Even my parents who have followed the trends after becoming empty nesters have plenty of color in their house. Humans like color. Most of us have lots of warmth and creativity in our houses. Compare media intended for renters and younger consumers such as Apartment Therapy with HGTV and you will find a stark difference in palate and tone.
But when it comes to actually existing houses - look at Zillow and it's greige greige greige. So who's doing this? The answer is real estate itself aided by their allies in mass media who in turn are aided by the home renovation industry. In other words, it's the people who sell home as a commodity. That desire to sell has for some time overpowered all other elements that make up a home or an apartment's interiority to the point where we've ended up in a colorless slurry of real and unreal.
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Fortunately, after ten years or so, things begin to become dated. We're hitting the ten year mark of farmhouse modernism and its derivatives now. If you're getting sick of it, it's normal. The whole style is hopefully on its last leg. But unlike styles of the past, there's a real, trenchant material reason why this one is sticking around longer than usual.
Hence, maybe if we want the end of greige, we're going to have to take color back by force.
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sinkovia · 4 months
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Simon “Ghost” Riley x Fem!Reader
Angst
Your hands tremble as you sit on the toilet, the pregnancy test resting on the edge of the sink. The seconds felt like hours as you checked the timer on your phone, anxiously waiting for the result. Thirty seconds left. You took a deep breath, trying to calm your racing heart.
The alarm on your phone went off, and with shaky hands, you picked up the test and flipped it over. The two little lines were unmistakable. You were pregnant. It was the third test you had taken, and the outcome remained the same. You were going to have a baby. You began to sob into your hands, overwhelmed by the weight of the situation.
Having a baby and raising a child in your line of work seemed impossible. It would require you to retire, to give up the life you had always known. Your mind raced, realizing you would need to tell Ghost.
But you couldn't bring yourself to do it just yet. You had asked him countless times to retire, to settle down, to start a family together. But he clung to the military life, holding onto it tighter than he would ever hold onto you.
The thought of having a family and settling down somewhere safe was something you had always yearned for, but you couldn't do it without him. You couldn't imagine having an absent husband or father, always fearing if he would make it home or not.
You knew Ghost's attachment to the military life ran deep. For the last three years, you had tried to reason with him, to convince him to retire. You had asked countless times, sat him down and begged him to hear you out, but he always refused. Each time, it was the same answer – he wasn't ready to retire.
His attachment to the military life was unwavering, and it felt as if he had never truly considered your feelings. It was always about him and what he wanted. You were both in your mid-thirties, and you couldn't keep waiting for him to come around. You needed more than the life you were leading, a family to call your own.
With resolve, you wrapped the pregnancy tests in layers of toilet paper and buried them deep in the trash can. Leaving the bathroom, you sat on your bed, checking the time. Ghost was likely finishing up his work out in the gym, he would be back soon.
You contemplated what you were going to say, knowing that you needed to have a serious conversation with him. It was either he retires with you, or you retire alone and move on with your life.
You had reached your limit, and you couldn't keep sacrificing your own dreams and desires for his career. As you heard the door open, you looked up, seeing Ghost walk into your shared room. He sighed and lay down next to you in bed, unaware of the life-altering decision you were on the verge of making.
You felt a sense of frustration building up in you. You had been wanting this for years, and every time you brought it up, it felt like hitting a brick wall. As you sat there, the look on your face showed the hopelessness you were feeling. He knew what you were about to say, Ghost could see it in your eyes, and he was exhausted.
His patience wore thin, and he snapped, his voice raised and sharp. "Damn it y/n, not this again! How many times do I have to tell you, the answer is no!" he snapped, his patience wearing thin. "I'm not ready to retire, and I've explained this to you countless times."
His outburst was jarring, and you weren't used to seeing Ghost like this. He had always been the calm and collected one, but now he was angry and frustrated. His voice carried the weight of his decision.
"Simon. I want a family, a home. I need something more than this. I've been asking you for years, and I thought maybe—" he cut you off, his voice raising.
"You thought maybe what? That this time I'd change my mind? After everything we've been through?"
His frustration became evident. His normally stoic expression twisted into one of anger and exasperation. He'd had enough of the repeated requests and the agony of constantly having to deny them.
"I just thought—"
"Well, don't! I don't want to retire, and that's final.”
"But I thought we could finally start a family and—"
"No! I've told you, I'm not ready for that, and I don't want to talk about it anymore. I've got a job to do, and I'm going to do it."
You were about to speak again, he cut you off with a yell, "Enough! I've had enough of this conversation. When I come back from my next mission in two days, I want you to stop bringing this up. This is the last time we're going to have this conversation."
He turned away from you and walked out of the room, leaving you standing there tears streaming down your face. Your heart ached, and you knew that this was a battle you were never going to win.
Ghost was determined to keep living the life he had chosen, and you were left with the painful realization that the future you had always dreamed of with him was never going to come.
As soon as Ghost left on his mission, you knew you had to tell Price about your pregnancy and your decision to retire. Price offered his congratulations, assuming that Ghost would retire too. However, you explained the situation, revealing that Ghost didn't know about your pregnancy, and you didn't want Price to be the one to tell him.
Price took a deep breath, his brow furrowing as he processed the information. "Why didn't you tell him you were pregnant? I'm sure he would have retired if he knew," concern evident in his voice. You looked from Price down to your hands, your expression heavy with emotions.
"I wanted him to retire for me," you admitted, your voice soft and filled with vulnerability. "I wanted to be enough for him to want to leave all of this behind."
Price nodded and got up from his chair, walking over to you and bringing you into a comforting hug. Your arms wrapped around him, and as the tears began to flow, you found solace in his support.
"I promise I'll keep your secret. I won't tell him," Price assured you as he held you close. You sniffled against his chest and managed to choke out a heartfelt thank you.
The rest of the day was spent packing your belongings. You didn't have much to take with you, mainly cargo pants, plain t-shirts, and a few off-duty clothes. You were planning to donate most of them.
The only sentimental items you packed were your favorite mug and a few personal belongings. You left behind everything that had to do with Ghost in a small box, including photos, his old dog tags, plushies, and matching bracelets. The box sat on the small dining room table with a note on top of it.
In the note, you explained that it was indeed the last time you guys would ever have that conversation. He was either going to retire or you were going to leave. His decision was final and so was yours, you couldn't wait any longer.
You told him that you were starting the life you had always begged him for, and you asked him not to go looking for you. He could live the life he desired, and you would live yours.
As you left the base for the last time and headed to the airport, your heart was a mix of anticipation and nostalgia. You were on a flight back to your home country of Iceland, ready to embark on a new chapter of your life.
You had settled into a cute apartment in Reykjavik, a temporary residence while you figured out where your forever home would be. The view from your apartment window showcased the picturesque landscape.
Your hand gently rested on your stomach. The thought of holding your bundle of joy in your arms brought a radiant smile to your face. It was a promise of a future filled with love and happiness, something you had yearned for for so long.
As you gazed out the window towards the setting sun, the horizon bathed in the soft hues of twilight, you felt a profound sense of contentment and hope. You were finally on the path to having the life you had always dreamt of.
Ghost arrived back on the military base, his fatigue weighing heavily on him after the long and grueling mission. As he made his way down the familiar corridor towards your shared room, a sense of guilt gnawed at his conscience. He loved you, there was no doubt about that, and now the argument he had with you was finally catching up to him.
He couldn't shake the feeling that he had been too harsh on you. Your desire to settle down and start a family was something that should have brought joy to both of your lives, but he had been stubborn, refusing to hear you out. The more he thought about it, the more he realized that he had kept you waiting for three long years.
He cursed under his breath, berating himself for being such a terrible boyfriend to you. You had never asked for much, always there for him when he needed you, and he couldn't even hear you out about something that meant the world to you.
Ghost decided that it was time to right his wrongs, to sit down and have a serious conversation with you about retiring. You had sacrificed so much for him during your time together, and now it was his turn to make a sacrifice for you.
As he unlocked the door to your shared room and walked in, ready to call out to you, he was met with a chilling sight. The room was dark and unwelcoming, a stark contrast to its usual warmth and coziness.
Ghost's heart sank, and he slowly moved through the room, calling your name. He went into the bathroom, but you weren't there. He stepped back into the main area and noticed the box on the dining table.
Slowly, he picked up the note, and his eyes moved slowly over the words, each line delivering a devastating blow to his heart. It was your handwriting, and the words were filled with finality.
With a heavy heart, he slumped into a chair, reading the note a second and third time. He didn't want to believe the words he was reading, but the truth was inescapable. Regret washed over him like a tidal wave, and his heart ached as he realized the gravity of his mistakes.
He hadn't taken you seriously, and now he had lost the love of his life because of his stubbornness and blindness to your needs. Tears welled up in his eyes as he sat in the darkness of the room that once represented your shared life, reflecting on the choices he could have made differently. If only he had realized sooner.
6 years later...
After a tip from Laswell, Ghost had spent six long years searching the streets of Iceland, ignoring your plea for him not to look for you. He was determined to speak with you, to make things right, even though he knew it was a long shot. He had realized too late the mistakes he had made, and now he was left with a deep regret that gnawed at his soul.
As he wandered the streets, it was as if he was retracing his own regrets, his footsteps echoing the path he should have taken years ago. And then, one fateful day, as he strolled down a street next to a park, his heart dropped.
His eyes found you, disbelief washing over him as he watched a man lean down and kiss your cheek. Your laughter rang in his ears, and his gaze fell on the toddler hugging your leg. A stroller stood nearby, a baby no more than a year old wrapped in a blanket.
Ghost took a step back, disbelief battling within him. But he immediately stopped when he saw you laugh and draw the man in for a kiss. That's when he saw it – the glimmering diamond ring on your finger.
His eyes shifted to the boy who ran out from behind a bush. The child had dirty blonde hair and brown eyes, a stark contrast to the toddler and the man with black hair and blue eyes.
His world came crashing down as he realized the truth. You had been pregnant when you left him, and that was his son. The pieces finally fell into place, and his past words haunted him.
All the times he had ignored your pleas, all the times he had put his career before you, played in his mind over and over again. He watched you and the family you had built without him, the family you had always begged him for.
In that moment, he couldn't help but envision a different life. He could have been the one standing beside you, laughing as you played with your kids. It was a life he could have had, a life he had always wanted, but his attachment to the military had led him away from it.
Ghost took a step back and, with one last look at the son he never knew, and at you, your wide smile etching a permanent place in his memory, he turned away and began to walk away.
You deserved this happiness, the family you had always yearned for, even if it wasn't with him. He knew he could only blame himself for the way things had ended. If only he had acted differently, if only he had put your feelings first, things might have been different.
After that day, he stopped coming to Iceland, letting you have the peaceful life you had always wanted, while he returned to the life that had torn you apart.
He could only blame himself, and he would carry the weight of that regret for as long as he lived, knowing that he had let a life with you slip through his fingers.
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yujisgirl · 5 months
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Yuji NSFW Links / Visuals ᥫ᭡
... with short fics <3
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These are real ns//fw links btw! Human bodies etc not animated! Need to be signed into Twitter/X to see these videos ♡
These stories happen in chronological order! ... ! afab reader
Next: Toji + Choso + Gojo + Nanami + Shiu + Sukuna + Higuruma... so stay tuned!
𓆩ᥫ᭡𓆪 Toji's Visuals: Click Here ❤︎
"Come over to my place after school?"
was all you told your highschool boyfriend, Itadori yuuji. It was supposed to be a little hang out; especially since exams had just been over and you both had missed each other so much.
Needless to say, you guys definitely "caught up" ...
Highschool boyfriend Yuuji!
જ⁀➴
"Does this look good on me?"
You definitely used this mall date as an excuse to rile yuji up even more. He's sure of it. Why else would you be picking the skimpiest swimsuits to "try on" - you're not even part of the swim team!
As soon as you guys left the mall, he grabs your arm and brings you over to an alley, "Need to fuck this hole before we leave"
In public with Yuji
જ⁀➴
"Do you want your present now?"
you said . Yuji tilts his head in confusion, his graduation cap threatening to fall of his pink hair as he raises his wrist, dangling the bracelet you had just gifted him, "Isnt this your present?".
"I have another one you know" You gesture to the Love Motel just down the street.
Your graduation gift to Yuuji
જ⁀➴
"I love you. I love every part of you"
The first time yuji had said "I love you" was when you came to visit him in college. The pain of being away from you only heightened his desires and needs. He needs you, not just in a sexual way but in every part of his life, through and through.
He worships every inch of your body
જ⁀➴
"Lets test our new bed, yeah?"
Maybe it was the adrenaline of finally moving in with yuji, Maybe it was the stress build up from the moving process but as soon as the land lord left your new house you guys were onto each other like animals.
You tested the firmness of every single furniture you bought. The bed, the new sofa, the kitchen counter, the beanbag that you got from Yuji's old house, and of course the balcony.
Testing beds with Yuuji
Testing beds Part 2.
જ⁀➴
"Is this why you wanted to move in together?"
you giggled. "Fuck." Yuji was too pussy drunk to even form a coherent reply, "m'you feel so good. Wanna live in this pussy forever"
Morning's with Yuuji
જ⁀➴
"Im reading right now"
you said.
Yuji pouts.
Shit. Thats your soft spot.
"Fine, you win."
જ⁀➴
"Babe, you really shouldnt wear that around me"
yuji's eyes werent even looking into yours, he was staring right at your boob window.
"Why?" You questioned.
"Makes me wanna suck on your tits" He deadpanned, eyes tracing the curves of your breasts.
"Whats stopping you?"
જ⁀➴
"Good job baby"
was all you said. Really.
How were you supposed to know that it would result in a marathon of rounds with Yuji?
He finally got recognised as a Jujutsu sorcerer by the elders, and you couldnt be more happy for your boyfriend. You expected him to come home with tears in his eyes, or something but no- he came home and went straight to your room, "Baby, I need to fuck you"
Is it his fault that youre all that plagues his mind night and day, and when he experienced emotions in a grand scale, he immediately gets horny?
Maybe you're all he needs
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keerysfreckles · 2 months
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powerless — MV1
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pairing: max verstappen x horner!fem!reader
summary: in which y/n horner gets into a terrible crash during the 2025 bahrain grand prix
warnings: use of y/n and she/her pronouns, cursing, kissing, not proofread, rushed writing
a/n: first f1 fic im scared 😖😖
masterlist !
⋆ ˚ 。 ⋆ ୨୧ ˚
it was one thing to be an f1 driver for redbull racing. it was a completely other thing to be the daughter of the manager of said f1 team.
to say y/n horner was born into her current position is an understatement. her father, cristian horner, was more than determined to get his eldest daughter into f1 racing. he signed her up as soon as possible for karting when she just turned 8. she excelled through f3 and f2, and now rightfully had an f1 seat alongside max verstappen.
y/n and max got along probably the best out of the entire grid. their interviews together were full of non-stop laugher and red faces, and the duo worked well on the race track. when needed, one would let the other pass to help the team, and vice versa.
today was no different as y/n and max knew their plan for the upcoming race. it was the second to last race of the 2025 season, and redbull racing needed to get a 1-2 podium in order to safely secure the second position in the constructor's championship.
before every race, y/n rushes to give her father a hug. christian kisses the top of her head and wishes her luck moments before she gets into her car. the bright red number 97 was a high contrast against the navy blue paint.
every driver took their starting positon from their quali results. max had gotten pole positon, with lewis hamilton in second, y/n's redbull was in third.
"it's lights out and away we go! we are racing in bahrain," one of the commentators spoke into his headset, his voice blaring over all the speakers.
all 20 cars sped off towards the first corner, without anyone getting into any crashes.
the roaring of engines and both commentator's voices filled the bustling area. fans cheering, and managers and crew members celebrating, at any victories for one's team.
33 laps into the race, and only two drivers have gotten out. george russell after his tires locked up during lap 14, as well as sergio perez after he had an engine failure right after lap 28.
max, lewis and y/n were still the top three drivers of the race, with max leading, only thousands of seconds ahead of lewis.
the three were coming up to a tight turn, making all three cars go tire to tire. max was lucky to get away from the outside. y/n on the other hand wasn't as fortunate.
lewis tried turning his car, trying to make y/n go behind him once again, but he turned gis wheel too hard too fast, crashing his car into the the right side of y/n.
"what the hell is he doing?" cristian wonders out loud, watching one of the many screens in front of him.
y/n loses control of her car, immediately turning into the gravel. her car only spins more before colliding harshly with the wall. her front tires are barely hanging onto her car, the front wing is damaged and the sides of her car are severly smashed in.
"y/n are you okay?" her advisor spoke into his microphone, watching as no movement comes from y/n's car.
christian only worries more as he watches her advisor get no response once again.
"shit, is y/n alright?" max's voice us filled with concern, noticing y/n's car wasn't anywhere on the track behind him.
"safety car is coming around," max's fear only eased slightly at his advisors words.
a red flag is waved at the starting point of the race, causing all cars to slow down immediately. the safety car is quick to go towards y/n, with other crew members running over as well.
once all the drivers were off the track, none of them could tear their eyes away from the screens displaying y/n's car.
max chewed on the edges of his fingernails. he was insanely worried about his teammate and best friend, and he was now regretting never telling her any of his conflicting feelings, because it looks as if she might not make it out of this one.
he kept watching the men in bright orange vests try to get y/n out of the car. he couldn't see if y/n was moving at all, but he could only pray more once he noticed dark smoke coming out of the back of her car.
out of the corner of his eye he saw christian speaking rapidly to everyone around him, worrying for his daughter.
christian stops however, once realizing his other driver is walking – no, running – in the direction of the crash.
"max! what the fuck are you doing?" he yells towards the driver, but max just keeps running.
he doesn't stop, even though his knees are burning and his ankles could barely hold his body up once the smoke turned into fire.
he didn't care at the protests from the crew members, and now two or three firefighters. he was going to get y/n out of that car.
y/n on the other hand, was finally gaining consciousness. her head hit the wall extremely hard, and now she felt nothing but dizzyness, as her eyes blurred and limbs burned.
she turned her head side to side, seeing all the crew members surrounding her smoking car. she signals to them that she's okay, for the most part. she tries helping them, wanting to get out of the hot car as soon as possible.
"i can't get out!" her voice is mumbled in her helmet.
she lifts her arms, but her legs are stuck, crushed in the plastic, rubber and metal.
y/n starts to panic, everything suddenly becomes so loud, and too bright. but one thing catches her eye in the chaos. a dark blue suit.
"max!" she yells, not caring if he truly heard her or not. her breath starts catching in her throat as sudden tears flood her vision.
y/n stops trying to get out of the car as she sits back down in her seat, for three seconds as she takes her helmet off. she throws it somehwere in front of her, and takes off her neck support, and balaclava.
max skids to a stop beside her, and is more than determined to get her out of the car. thankfully the fire has stopped, and now the only problem was how stuck y/n really was.
"max," y/n cries again, her words getting stuck in her throat. she simply grabs onto his arms, silently begging for help.
max tries his hardest to pull y/n out of the car. she assist as best as she can while trying to push with her legs. she moves a little, making other crew members grab her arms, and grab underneath her shoulders.
it's as if a weight is taken off christian horner's shoulders as he watches y/n finally get out of the car. he lets out a breath he didn't know he was holding, still watching the screen.
max doesn't let y/n go even when both of her feet are on the ground. she can't let go of her teammate either, her nails digging into max's racing suit, but he couldn't care about that.
her legs felt as if they would fall off, and she can't help but fall into max. himself and another crew member lead y/n towards the safety car. the girl leans her head against max's shoulder, breathing in his familiar scent.
max starts to leave in the direction he came, wanting to give y/n some space once she was in the safety car. however his decision changed when he felt a hand grip his wrist.
"stay with me, please," y/n looks up at max, and he knows he can't say no to her, especially not when she was just getting out of a small panic attack.
max adjusts hinself so he's sat next to y/n, and his hand never leaves hers. she rests her head on his shoulder again, and closes her eyes, trying to forget about the immense pain in both of her legs.
once again, christian horner lets out a huge sigh of relief, seeing his daughter walk out of the safety car and slowly make her way towards him. christian holds y/n close to his chest, for as long as possible until two medic workers come by, asking to check on y/n's conditions.
y/n sighs once she's layed down onto the small medical bed. she halfway pays attention while one of the workers checked how her legs were, as well as her head. luckily she didn't get a concussion. the only problem was the multiple large bruises already starting to form on her legs. the worker told her it may take a few days until she feels comfortable walking without any assistance.
just as y/n's eyes start to close, she hears the door open. she turns her head, and just becomes confused once she sees max step into the room.
"max?" she tries sitting up, but groans after realizing how much her legs really hurt.
max helps her sit up, and sits on the bed next to her. he laughs slightly as she immediately rests her head on his shoulder for the third time today.
"wait don't you have to be racing right now?" y/n sits up now, facing max with furrowed eyebrows.
"you'd seriously want me to race after seeing what you went through?" max chuckles.
y/n nods, "well, yes! you absolutely love racing. i don't want to be the reason you can't win today's race."
"i can't possibly race while you're in here hurting," max places his hand lightly over y/n's thigh and lightly runs his thumb up and down.
"yeah, but you never quit races," y/n tries again.
max shakes his head, "you're more important than a race y/n."
y/n can't help but feel her heart flutter at his words. she hates the flush feeling rising to her cheeks.
max leans forward and brings his hand to y/n's face, running his fingers lightly over her skin to brush away the few strands of hair that fell in front of her face.
"thank you," y/n's voice fills the silence, "thank you for getting me out of the car. i don't think i could thank you enough honestly."
max kisses y/n's forehead, "i would save you over and over again if it means i get to be next to you afterwards."
y/n smiles at his words, after grabbing his hand that's still on her thigh. she can't help the tears starting to blur her vision again, but max is quick to wipe them away with his thumb after they land on her red cheeks.
even after he wiped her tears, max kept his hand on her cheek. the air in the room suddenly shifted. y/n ran her fingers over max's, only stopping when max moved her face to face his.
before y/n can get any words out, max closes the gap between the two, pushing his lips against her own.
she was surprised at first, but kissed back. his lips felt soft against hers, and it started to deepend slightly before the girl pulled away.
y/n placed her hand against max's chest, "wait, you're not just kissing me because i'm all emotional, and i basically could've died today right?"
max chuckles at y/n's playful words, "no y/n, i'm not just kissing you because i'm youre savior."
"are you sure? bec–"
"stil liefde," shut up love max interrupts before kissing y/n again, and more passionate than before.
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bachiras-toaster · 7 months
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jealousy and it’s consequences : ̗̀➛
BSD MEN x gn!reader
cw: smut, manipulation, obsessiveness, possessiveness, they’re all a little toxic (except atsushi), giving head (ranpo), receiving head (poe), riding (Atsushi), masturbation
synopsis. how bsd men deal with their jealousy after seeing you with their rival.
characters: dazai, chuuya, ranpo, poe, atushi, akutagawa
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DAZAI, seeing you with Chuuya
He sees you with Chuuya? He dares you to hang out with him more. He's serious! Go wild. Hold hands, kiss him— Do it all right in front of Dazai. If you have the nerve to do all of those things in the first place, then surely you wouldn't be opposed to not doing it behind his back? If you're going to so obviously make him jealous, do it to his face.
He will take it out on the both of you-- You more-so than Chuuya. Dazai would probably give Chuuya a quiet and humorous warning, telling him that he could only give him so many more second chances before him hanging out with you really started to tick him off. As for you, he's gonna make sure he has you all to himself from there on out. It's clear that you purposefully making him jealous must be the result of him not giving you enough attention. Well, don't worry, because now he is completely focussed on you. He'll make sure that another person won't even do so much as look at you- Even if it means constantly having you at his side in the agency, cornering you and separating you from your coworkers.
The thing is, he'll act really nice about it, telling you how it's just because he wants you all to himself! He can't stand the thought of you around other people, and seeing you hang out with Chuuya just made him realise that. You're the light of his life, believe him. He can't have other people trying to take that away from him.
When it comes to the sex afterwards too, he gets even more needy. He's a lot more touchy with you, desperate to mark and grab any bit of skin that he can. He's whining and crying to you while he leaves his seventh hickey on your collarbone, his saliva pulling from your skin to his lip as he complains about how he feels so lost without you. Do you prefer Chuuya? Be honest with him. If you really loved him more, you'd let him leave more hickeys on you and you wouldn't try to conceal them the next day. You hated seeing how he teared up while doing so, it just meant you couldn't help but softly pat his head and sigh, treating him as if he were a sick puppy.
CHUUYA, seeing you with Dazai
He'd make his annoyance super obvious from the get-go. He probably wouldn't outright say he's jealous, but he'd heavily imply it. Whenever you come back to work, telling him that you had a fun day out with Dazai, you could swear you'd see Chuuya's eye twitch uncontrollably for a second or two. You'd constantly hear those remarks saying "What's so great about Dazai anyway?" or "How funny can he even really be?" Soon, those remarks tumble into off-handed insults, such as "Dazai doesn't have the mental capacity to take care of someone." He would never blame you for hanging out with him, it will always somehow be Dazai's fault. Dazai must have coaxed you and tricked you into hanging out with him!
His solution would simply be spending more time with you. But, instead of closing you off from the world, he shows you off instead. Insists on going out on dates, PDA in public, walking past the detective agency holding hands in the hopes that Dazai would see it through the window and take the hint... You know, the basic stuff.
But when he's fucking you, the jealousy really shines through that man's eyes. He has you pinned down as he thrusted deeper into you, forcing you to choke out his name as a flurry of moans escaped your lips. Are you still thinking about Dazai right now, or have you finally come to your senses? He's so relentlessly rough with you when he's jealous, so you better pray that that jealousy is mild and not angry, because your legs would have a field day. He'd keep going at it until he was satisfied, ensuring that only his name could linger on your tongue- Only then would he accept that you're only his.
RANPO, seeing you with Poe
Questions the hell out of you. Like, you've been spending a lot of time with Poe recently, haven't you? There's a sort of blunt curiosity to him and he just can't help but swarm you with these queries. "Did you hang out with Poe today?" "I heard you and Poe went to the park." "Yeah, I was busy earlier, but I'm glad you found someone else to hang out with. It was Poe, right?"
He would victimise himself a lot, really dramatising the situation. He'll ask you if you really love him or if you think he's actually worth hanging around. If not that, he'd constantly try and convince you why you should hang out with him instead. If he sees that you're about to leave the agency to go to and meet Poe, he'd immediately stop you. Suddenly, it looks like the perfect day to go for a stroll around the park with Ranpo, don't you think? Or go to the movies? Maybe a nice library? You can even choose the place! Just don't choose Poe over him, he will cry when you're not looking.
Giving him head is the only possible solution to convince him that you wouldn't leave him for somebody else. Having you tucked sweetly between his legs as he leaned back in his office chair, his hand gently stroking the back of your neck- He really deserves this after going through the stress of thinking that you and Poe had something going on. He's an arrogant man, but he can't help but worry, you know? But since you can put aside some time in your schedule just for him, then he supposed that he shouldn't be too concerned.
POE, seeing you with Ranpo
He isn't very surprised at the idea that you could choose Ranpo over him, because of course! Anyone would. It's Ranpo, right? The smartest man alive- Who wouldn't choose Ranpo over Poe? If destroys is self-esteem and his self-worth seeing you and his rival get along so well and so easily. He is very aware of the fact that Ranpo is very intelligent, but would he have the brains to take you away from him? Is he that cruel of a person?
He tries everything to win you over from that man. Even if you don't realise it, doing so much as interact with Poe's rival is enough for him to spiral and to cause him to believe that you must already be considering ditching him. What is it that you want? Gifts? He can deliver that to you in truckloads. Do you want a relaxing holiday? He'll write up a cute story for you, no problem. Poe would kiss the ground that you walked on if it meant that you chose him over Ranpo. He would try everything in his power to remove that man out of the picture, but we all know that there isn't a novel complex enough to trap the Ranpo Edogawa.
So now Poe's tucked between your thighs, working his tongue at your senses as begging that you stay with him. The head is good, right? Tell him that it's good. Tell him he's doing a good job. You need to ensure him that you could never leave him for someone else, otherwise he'll keep whining about it against your skin. He'll continuously ask you if you like how he makes you feel so he can ensure that he can keep doing the right things. He's a listener. If he finds out what you like, he'll use it to his complete advantage.
ATSUSHI, seeing you with Akutagawa
Perhaps the least toxic one when it comes to dealing with jealousy. He doesn't blame you, he only blames himself. You know he gets super self conscious, right? There's no doubt that you're only hanging out with Akutagawa because he hasn't been treating you well enough. At first, he would confide in his friends, like Kyouka or Kunikida. Kyouka would threaten to hurt you, but he would frantically beg her not to put you in harm’s way; and Kunikida would tell him that he shouldn't be jealous, and that you're allowed to have other friends. But he simply can't help it.
It would lead him to pour his entire heart into taking care of you. He needs you to know that he loves you completely, and that you're the only one for him. Gifts, dates, compliments, praise, he'll provide it all for you. If you still choose Akutagawa after all of that, he'll accept it, but he hopes you'll choose him in the end.
So now you need to ride him, tilting his chin up so you could stare down at his pretty little face. He'd whine and cuddle you as you bounced up and down on his lap, blushing profusely as he mutters how much he loves you. He'll give everything to you, everything you want. He'll treat you right. He doesn't want to be jealous, he just wants to be yours.
AKUTAGAWA, seeing you with Atsushi
What could that stupid weretiger have that he doesn't? He's threatened to kill Atushi enough times now, so seeing you interact with him doesn't help his bloodlust and the desire to knock his lights out- in fact, it's just a greater motivation.
And his jealousy is so obvious in the way he threatens you too, grabbing you by the collar and telling you he wouldn't hesitate to have the Port Mafia toss you on the side of the street if you continue conversing with the enemy. You need to make a decision: The Port Mafia or the Armed Detective Agency- Akutagawa or Atsushi? The decision is clear, right? He knows that you wouldn’t dare choose the weretiger over him and you were simply doing this in order to get a rise out of him. He knew all too well.
So now, instead of giving you all of the attention you could dream for, he ignores you. He turns away and isolates you until you’re practically begging for his attention once again. It was just a joke, you just wanted a little bit more love— That’s what you would tell him, but it would never be enough to undo the anger in his heart.
There is no jealousy sex that comes afterwards, it’s just plain voyeurism. While he works on something to do with another one of the Port Mafia’s upcoming attacks, he’d tell you to touch yourself while he plans this and if you’re good by the end of it, he’ll finish the job. But now that just leaves you in another seat on the other side of the room, your legs spread open as you tried to stimulate yourself at the sight of him working. Of course, Akutagawa had no intention of actually touching you to serve as punishment-but you weren’t aware of that, leaving you whining and biting down on your lip as you prayed he would look at you for just a second. Even through your masturbation, he still chose not to look you in the eye, which you found was even more agitating than him not touching you instead.
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cupcakeinat0r · 2 months
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Thinkin abt DadBod!Miguel… once again…
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You were the lucky girl that pulled Miguel n had him wrapped around your lil finger.
As much as he didn’t like to show it publicly, the man was whipped. By the means of your affectionate love, Miguel actually began to take better care of himself, resulting in happy boyfriend weight gain.
As time went on, you’d noticed those changes: Thicker thighs, fatter ass, pecs are perkier, and a soft pouch that you’d feel up when you removed his shirt during hot, open-mouthed make-out sessions.
Miguel was a little surprised to find that you loved it, and since then, has taken advantage of this information.
Now, he proudly walks around shirtless, in nothing but grey sweatpants or even boxers sometimes. He thought he was slick by acting coy, but you knew that he knew that you get wet just by the sight of his brawny, hairy muscles, or that muffin top he had going on… and that happy trail…
Then he’d give you that smirk when he caught you staring, making fun of you when he did. And when he sees that you’re a blushing mess, he attacks you with kisses, you swatting him away but it’s no use; he’s already caged you under him on the couch, the both of you breaking into a fit of giggles.
Today, it’s early in the morning. He didn’t have to be at the society until a little later, so you made the best use of the rare time you had together and made him some breakfast. After he was done eating, the two of you cuddled on the couch for the remainder of his free time.
He was sprawled out on the couch (almost too small for him) with your body on top of his. Your head lays on his chest, the hair there slightly tickling your skin. His strong hands rub your back oh so gently, making you drift away. Miguel occasionally kisses the top of your head as he himself doze off as well. Just when the two of you are about to fall asleep, his watch on the coffee table goes off.
“mierda—“ he groans, immediately going to snooze the loud, annoying alarm. You lift your head with a ‘mph’, your body grieving the loss of a peaceful moment between the both to you. “Already?” You look up at him with the saddest puppy dog eyes, ones that break his heart.
“I know, mama, I know, I’m sorry, but y’know I have to go.” He tuts. Like as if you were made of porcelain, he gently pries you off of him, but you refuse. “Just call in, baaaabe.”
Miguel feels you grab onto him tighter, and he lays back on his elbows in regret, “I’ll be back as soon as I can, mamita. I gotta go, mama, c’mon.”
“But baaaaabyyyyy.” You pout.
“Beba, tu sabes que yo quiero quedarme contigo, pero I simply can’t.” He really did hate having to say bye to you. He used to never wanna leave the lab, but now he counts down to the seconds until he gets to come home to your arms.
“Just a few more minutes?” You lift your head from his chest again, giving him those eyes that could get you anything.
“Beba, por favor-“ he knits his brows. He was cracking.
“Pleeeeeeaaasse?” You pout your bottom lip, “We haven’t had a day like this in forever, babe. Besides, you work so hard already…”
You place and subtly push your hands on his chest, and to your surprise, he lays back on the couch, wanting to hear what else you have to say, and maybe see what mischievous plan you had this time.
He could spare a minute or two, it won’t hurt… right?
“You deserve a day off, no?” Your voice becomes softer, more sensual as you peel yourself from his body and straddle not on his waist, but his stomach. Miguel’s consciousness is slipping.
Miguel’s hands instinctively go to rest on your hips, which have started to vaguely grind on his belly.
You were clever. By teasing Miguel and grinding against his stomach, merely inches from his fat cock, you knew you’d have him crumble under you in no time. “Well… do you?” You ask again, raising your eyebrow. You know it was working.
His eyes are now laser focused on the triangle of your panties, now marked with a wet spot, rubbing against his mid section. In his mind, he’s practically fighting for his life between going to work or letting you keep doing what you’re doing and so far… what his eyes are stuck on is winning.
“fuck, mama… you’re makin’ it real difficult, you know that?” His voice gravels at the sight in front of him. He doesn’t look up, too distracted by your slow thrusts against his soft belly. He hissed as he can feel his own cock rise in his grey sweats, precum bleeding through, no doubt.
“Baby, just stay, just for today… please?” Your breathy tone goes straight to his aching dick, pushing him over the edge from staying or going.
Hungry, Miguel licks his lips just as he takes one of his hands, hooking his pointer finger on one side of the triangle of your panties, pulling it aside so that nothing separated your wet heat and his fluffy stomach. He let out a low sigh and a few curses, watching as you painted his belly with your juices. He’s not even in you, but he could cum just from this.
“Aw fuck… what am I gonna do with you?“ he looks up at you, almost annoyed that this was working on him, but he couldn’t help it. He was pussy whipped. Feeling like you’ve won, you lazily smiled, already getting close to your climax as you continued grinding on his soft stomach.
“Lyla… fuck… mute my watch. I’m takin’ the day off.”
A/n: This one right here…. This ask did it for me. Been replaying this one in my head for days now hnnnghh I need him so bad, it actually makes my stomach hurt and my head dizzy 😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫 Thank you nonnie <3
Hope y’all liked it <3
Want more DadBod!Miguel ? Here’s my master list, bae!
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jihyoruri · 1 month
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❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ 𓍢 LIVE CRASHER kazuha nakamura x reader
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warnings ↳ yn and kazuha from shameless, fluff, idol!reader, yn is apart of lesserafim
yn delicately adjusted the frames of her glasses, their sleek contours framing her features as she leaned back against the chair. she was finally doing a live after being begged by fans to do one for weeks.
with a gentle laugh, she scanned through the flood of comments. among them, playful proposals danced across the screen, drawing a mischievous grin to her lips. she couldn't help but tease, her voice laced with playful sarcasm as she quipped, "marry all of you at once? who do you take me for?"
she took off the baseball cap off her head revealing her messy hair which made fans swoon for some odd reason over how attractive she looked. she flipped it backwards and put it back in her head, yn opens her mouth to say something to the chat but is cut off when the door behind her opens.
as yn felt the delicate touch of hands on her shoulders, a familiar warmth enveloped her. without needing to glance back, she sensed the presence of kazuha, a grin spread effortlessly across her face.
with a playful twinkle in her eye, yn turned her attention to the camera, addressing her live audience with a hint of mischief. "Is an obsessed fan lurking behind me?" she teased as kazuha playfully feigned offense.
as kazuha attempted to pinch her in mock retaliation, yn’s laughter bubbled as she moved away from the girls touch.
“what are doing here?” yn asks looking up at the girl who stood above her chair, the silence that followed her question stretched, resulting in a raise of yn’s brow. It was clear to her that kazuha didn't have a solid reason for her sudden appearance.
a knowing smile tugged at the corners of yn’s lips as kazuha finally spoke, her voice trailing off slightly, betraying her true intentions. "just decided to stop by and say hi…"the main reason she actually came is because she was starting to miss her girlfriend, who was busy being a big goof on live.
“okay…” yn responded before motioning to one of the chairs, “come sit.” kazuha complies and grabs the chair and moves it closer to yn’s and sits on it, yn immediately brings an arm to rest on the back of the girls chair out of habit.
kazuha kept her gaze on yn who interacted with the live way more than her, it was like a second nature to the extroverted girl, that’s something she could always both admire and hate yn for, she loves that the girl is so good at entertaining the fans and keeping a good relationship, but sometimes she wishes the girl could hide her charming personality and save it just for her, she laughed quietly as yn started to argue with fans.
yn adjusted the silver chain in her neck as she read the comment, “unnie, is that chain real silver? HUH?!” yn yells offended, “what kind of question is that?!” she adds dramatically.
kazuha laughs even harder, grabbing yn’s attention, "what are you laughing at?" yn’s voice held a playful edge as she leaned her face towards kazuha, holding eye contact with the girl.
kazuha's laughter subsided, but a mischievous twinkle remained in her eyes as she met yn’s gaze. "I don't know what you're talking about," she replied coyly, her tone laced with a hint of playful evasion, leaning her face closer to yn’s as well, the moment hung between them, charged with unspoken words.
the moment lasts for at least 10 seconds before the both look away from each other like it was nothing, while the comment section goes insane.
the lives goes on for a while and now yn is talking to the fans about food, “you know I haven’t eaten all day.” kazuha adds, yn’s attention snapped towards Kazuha as soon as the words left her lips,"you haven't eaten all day?"
kazuha stretches and shakes her head , a contented sigh escaping her lips, while yn immediately leans forward and picks up the peach drink she had on the side table and shoves it in kazuha’s face, “drink.”
“I’m not hungry.” the girl whines but yn shakes her head, “that’s why I gave you a drink, now drink it.” she says sternly, shaking the bottle before opening it and forcing it in kazuha’s hand.
“we should probably end the live and get some food.” yn says softly, while kazuha can’t help but smile at how easily the girl lost interest in the live for her, “I’m hungry anyways.”
yn ends the live and lets out a sigh, she turns to look at kazuha who drinks the peach juice, “what?”
“come sit.” kazuha can’t help but giggle, she gets up from her chair and sits on yn’s lap, instantly relaxing when yn wraps her arms around her torso, “you’re so cute.”
“what?”
“you’re so obsessed with me, you had to crash my live.”
“shut up.”
the sound of yn’s stomach grumbling made kazuha turn her head back to look at the girl who shrugged “I was serious when I said I was hungry, let’s order something.”
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violetarks · 2 months
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megumi's parental figure, early 20s! gojo satoru, comes in to discuss with you, first year teacher as 'ms l/n', a little mishap that has occured between the young boy and someone else in your class. a fight had broke out in the midst of recess and, while on your break in the teacher's lounge, you were called to the entrance of the room with the two boys, both with their fair share of scratches and scruffed up clothes.
the office had to tell the respective parents to come in to talk after school, while you stood with the boys in the sick bay, helping the nurse clean their wounds.
megumi grunts, "don't call gojo..."
"i have to, sweetie." you retort, placing a bandaid on his cheek from the bark that scratched his face when he was pushed into the ground. megumi frowns even more. "it's the school's policy. i'm sorry."
he only nods his head, eyes pricking with tears as the kid beside him bawled his eyes out about getting in trouble with his parents
you know it's megumi's so-called 'immature, loud-mouth, waste of time and effort' guardian when he comes bursting through the hallway in some kind of uniform, glasses on his nose and fringe messily sticking to his sweaty forehead. not the man you had pictured taking care of megumi.
"megumi! megumi!" he calls, rushing up to you and the boys. they sat in the chairs outside of your classroom while the rest of yours kids were painting. megumi groaned, covering his face in embarrassment as satoru kneeled down in front of him and badgered on. "what happened? i came as soon as i got the call!"
megumi, unwilling to answer, only glares at the boy beside him, who does the same thing.
you sigh, "your son and his classmate were in a physical fight today, mr gojo."
satoru looks to you for a split second before doing a double take. his blue eyes peak over his glasses and you find yourself clearing your throat to gather your nerves again.
as soon as satoru turns back to megumi, he's worried again. "oh god... megumi, please, tell me, did you win—?"
"mr gojo!" you harshly whisper, slight chuckle in your tone at the question. he glances up at you. "please."
so now you sit with both of the boys' parents — megumi and his legal father, satoru (who hasn't stopped smiling at you since he walked in, which is a step up from his not-much-older sister coming in to fill in for their parents), and the other boy, ibuki, and his parents, mr and mrs sawamura (who were of high paying jobs).
the mother and father duo look unpleased to be there, whilst satoru just keeps sending you the warmest gaze. the boys are glaring at each other, clicking their tongues and looking away.
"i apologise for the inconvenience this has caused." you explain, hands on your lap as your sit on your chair at the head of the classroom, "but i'm afraid the school's contacted you on such short notice due to the events of today."
you begin to explain what you know from the boys and what other teachers have told you. megumi and ibuki have never been friends due to clashing ideas, but today, ibuki pushed megumi onto the floor at the playground in the middle of playing tag when megumi was 'it' and tagged ibuki. as a result, ibuki made a comment on megumi's absent parents.
the ravenette, in return, pushed ibuki back and told him to apologise, only for ibuki to throw the first punch. a minor brawl occured, with slapping, kicking, punching and bark throwing whilst other kids watched. nothing was severely damaged, but scratches and light bruises were evident on the boys.
in the end, neither of the boys wanted to apologise.
"what could my son have possibly done?" mrs sawamura questions, crossed arms. the two have been hostile since the start, but you don't react.
"mrs sawamura, ibuki put his hands on megumi and pushed him to the ground whilst insulting him." you reiterate, "i'm sorry, but all accounts state this."
"ibuki, did you do such a thing?" mr sawamura questions, glaring at his son.
ibuki, baffled and nervous, begins to sputter out, "i—well, megumi...! he—he bullied me and said i was a slow runner!”
"i wasn't making fun of you, i was stating a fact." megumi retorts, shaking his head. satoru smirks.
"if anyone should be punished, it should be that bully of a kid!" mrs sawamura exasperates, "goodness, what kind of child resorts to such hostility? children say anything these days! what are you raising?"
satoru turns to her with a roll of his eyes. "a kid with common sense. maybe the reason your kid is so jealous of megumi isn't just because he's smarter than him or cooler, but because megumi knows to cover mouth when to sneeze rather than on other kids at the christmas concert."
"it was an accident!" ibuki cries out, wiping his tears.
"you told all the boys you were gonna' do it!" megumi retaliates, rolling his eyes as well. the resembalance is uncanny.
"nonsense!" mr sawamura exclaims, standing from his chair. you rub your temple, headache ensuing. mrs sawamura only shakes her head as her son sticks her tongue out at satoru. "ibuki would never be jealous of someone like megumi!"
for the first time since he began, satoru's smile drops. he stands as well, towering over the other man. "what's that supposed to mean?"
"okay, let's dail it down, please." you say, standing up as well. you watch as the two men do as you say and seat themselves, all the while glaring at each other. "now, it is a two day suspention. no exceptions. and the kids will have to complete all assigned work i have for them. here."
you give the two boys a folder each, filled with a short workbook and other things, and you don't even allow mr and mrs sawamura to complain before you stand up and bow your head.
"both children are in trouble for participating in the fight." you explain calmly, furrowed brows, "however, this is not the first instance ibuki has been caught talking about other people's privacy. i believe this is an issue to be solved at home."
your last sentence makes satoru giggle and stare at the couple, judging them. they, in return, begin mumbling in their placesnamd crossing their arms.
"thank you for taking the time out of your day to discuss this unfortunate event. i shall see you kids on thursday. good evening." you say blankly, already grabbing your belongings and heading out the door.
satoru is quick to catch up to you before you get into your car.
"hey, ms l/n!" he calls, holding megumi's hand as he gets dragged along in the carpark.
"mr gojo." you reply, expecting him to start explaining megumi's actions.
"thank you for standing up for megumi today." he says, making you stop, "it's good to know that he has someone looking out for him at school."
"oh... i, uh, i don't mind. he's my student, and he does very well in my classes." you explain, smiling at the kid, "how's your cheek, megumi?"
"doesn't hurt at all..." he retorts, looking to the ground. you only grin.
satoru then holds out his other hand. "you can call me 'satoru'. i want to take you out for dinner as a 'thanks' for helping out megumi."
you stop before shaking his hand. "i'm y/n. i'd love you, but..." your eyes drift to megumi, who only turns away with a pout. "i try to keep my work life and personal life separate."
satoru lets out a small chuckle before nodding his head. "i understand. thank you, ms l/n. you're megumi's favourite teacher."
"hey!" megumi grumbles, jabbing at the white-haired man's stomach, "ugh! let's just go home!"
you wave as megumi drags satoru to a nice black car, and they drive to the school gates as you enter your own vehicle.
you're incredibly surprised when you are informed by the principal that fushiguro megumi is leaving the school after only four months of being under your care. you begin to question why he was leaving. were you not a suitable teacher for him? what was wrong with your teaching style?
megumi explains to you that he's upset he's leaving because he actually doesn't want to go. he wants to stay, and he has never complained about you to satoru. you asked why he's moving schools, and he only shrugs and says satoru told him he would be.
when satoru comes to pick up megumi, you make sure to stand at his side with your arms crossed. the man is pleasantly surprised when he sees you with an annoyed expression.
"ms l/n, lovely seeing you again." he says, patting his adopted son's head. the boy scowls and pushes his hand away, stepping closer to you.
"mr gojo, i'd like to ask why you are making megumi move schools when he is perfectly fine here. is this a problem with me? is my way of teaching not up to your standards?" you begin, looking at him dead in the eye.
satoru chuckles, hands in his pockets, "not at all, y/n. megumi actually does pretty well under your care."
"so what is it?"
"i don't want him to be your student." he hums out, shrugging his shoulders, "because you don't mix work with your personal life, i figured i'd take us out of your work life. if megumi is no longer your student, then i can be your boyfriend."
your stilled, frozen as he smiles dumbly at you. any teachers or parents close enough to hear your conversation stop to giggle behind their hands, enjoying the short display of romance. you furrow your brows before uncrossing your arms, tilting your head to the side.
"i—" you begin, pursing your lips and covering your face a little. he lets out a small laugh. "satoru, you can't just..."
"if you care that much about megumi's education, you're more than welcome to come over for dinner and we can tutor him." he offers, grinning at you with such softness that you immediately hum in agreement, "that's great! c'mon, megumi, you can see ms l/n saturday night. say 'goodbye' to your friends and we'll go."
megumi then runs off to bid his friends 'goodbye', all of them crying out about never seeing each other again. in the meantime, satoru stands at your side, hands in his pockets.
"so," he begins, "can i take you out for dinner this weekend? megumi will be out of this school by then."
"i don't appreciate you taking megumi out of this school just because you wanted to ask me out." you huff out, tilting your head at him.
satoru smiles wider, bumping his hip with yours. “just imagine all the other things i’m willing to do to score a chance with you.”
“whatever.” you chuckle, looking back to him, “one date, i will give you one chance.”
“that is all i need. thank you, y/n.” he responds, winking at you. he turns back to megumi, waving his hand. “c’mon, kid! time to go home!”
as they leave, satoru shoots you one last smile and you swear you can hear your heartbeat quicken.
that was the last time megumi was ever your student and the first time satoru made you swoon.
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gglitch1dd · 2 months
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All i am currently imagining is the midoriya family having a comedy tiktok account. Imagine seeing pro hero deku doing the water dance with his youngest son strapped to his chest(was that weird)😭😭
Oh the Midoriyas DEFINITELY have a tiktok account.
Midoriya Family Online Shenanigans
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Note: Normal DILF Izuku AU
TheMidoriyas was a TikTok account originally started by Izuku when he married you because the both of you have such odd funny moments together that he couldn't help but share.
Initially he honestly didn't think it would take off as big as it did but it did.
"Honey what did you say?" Izuku asked with a chuckle as he looked at you, the camera focused on his face as he held his phone to look at him.
"Does it float?" You asked nonchalantly.
Izuku just stared at you amusedly. "You mean my..." He motioned down to his crotch. You nodded your head. He couldn't help but chuckle. "Of course it floats."
"...You're lying."
He let out a loud laugh at the allegations as he stared at you. "Why would I be lying? It floats. My entire body can float so of course it floats."
You stared at him blankly before shaking your head. "Nope. I refuse."
"What do you want? Proof?" He asked amused at your pure denial. You nodded your head, indicating that indeed you wanted proof. Izuku put his free hand up indicating that he wasn't responsible for the results. "Alright."
The video changes to show your husband with bare shoulders from the shoulders up, sitting in a bath tub. He's clearly looking at you despite you not being in the frame. The video is silent for a moment before a gasp comes from you in pure horror.
"IZUKU NO! EWWW!" A loud laugh comes from your husband at your reaction. "IZUKU STOP IT!"
The public love your videos and love seeing a more personal take on the both of you that is rarely seen.
However, your videos become less frequent as the both of you hide your first pregnancy from the world.
The first real posts come from the both of you tackling parenthood for the first time all while hiding your newest addition's face from the camera. It was a decision you both mutually agreed on and one you took seriously.
You did videos now sparingly not because you didn't want to, but mostly because you didn't want to use your son for content.
For the longest while the both of you don't post for years and sort of only use the account for hero news or any big events that happen that the both of you as the Midoriyas, the Number One couple of Japan, should comment on.
However, Toshinori as he comes into teenagehood, soon finds this account and takes over it with your permission and suddenly your family's account is booming.
Your family's chaotic moments, crazy advice, and genuine takes and conversations become a raw view into your lives.
But Toshinori dislikes it the most because of comments like:
"Why do I lowkey understand his mom. Deku is such a dilf." Toshinori reads on the screen. His face scrunches up at the comment as he lifts up his nose. "Ew." He let out bluntly. "My dad is literally the most dad person you've ever seen. He eats a lot, he sleeps, he bulches like a goat." The camera shifts as your eldest son moves to the kitchen. "Dad! Dad!" Suddenly Izuku is in the frame, hair grey on the sides and body thick with muscle and fat. He raises an eyebrow at the camera recording him and then looks at his son. "Dad, people are calling you a dilf?"
Izuku scoffs at the comment. "A dilf?"
"Yah, do you know what a dilf is?"
"I know what it is." He laughs at his son.
"So what are you gonna say about it."
Izuku takes the phone and looks at the camera. He smiles. "I know right. My wife would agree."
"DAD!"
Despite not showing any of their kids who are under the age of thirteen's faces, you're family is pretty great online despite it.
-Glitch1d
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