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norrizzandpia · 13 days

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hey, totally ok if it’s not ur vibe, but i’d love to see an oscar fic where he’s helping his girlfriend or a childhood best friend when she’s feeling a bit down.

i keep thinking about that man helping clean a depression room and telling his girl not to be embarrassed and he’s there to help and they get it sorted and he just holds her. makes sure she’s eaten and drank something.

even if it’s just a drabble, i’d really appreciate it :) need that kinda care in my life rn, even if it’s fictional.

I made this girlfriend because it just felt softer idk

To Be Loved Is To Be Seen (OP81)

Summary: Oscar knows his girlfriend well and it’s obvious to him when she starts breaking down. He’s happy to help or, more specifically, remind her how worth it she is.

Warnings: this one is HEAVY on the family trouble, depression, anxiety, VERY ANGSTY but def cutest HAPPY ENDING

Note: i didn’t know if you wanted reader to be in a rut or have a reason for it so i just made a reason

Y/n’s first few months of university were hard. Not only was it due to the new course load, but also because of her parents lack of interest when it came to her life. It had been a gradual shift, starting from her last two years in high school and only getting stronger as time went on. They had always been there, overbearing at times, but, now, they posted pictures of their trips around the world, failing to answer her calls and texts. She felt selfish for wanting her parents’ attention as much as she did, but it was hard to fight. There were situations she had never dealt with before, she wanted her mom’s wise words and father’s funny remarks to get through it all. But, she sat alone in the darkness of her room without the guidance counselor she usually could count on. It felt as if she wasn’t enough to keep them there anymore. It was heart wrenching and it stewed within her at such volumes, it became too much.

That’s when Oscar noticed. Her boyfriend had always been attentive, noticing small things about her that no one else did, but the second her smile didn’t reach her eyes and her text messages became less frequent, it was almost as if he was staring her down in anticipation of some sort of sign. He didn’t begin to realize it was related to her parents until he caught a glimpse of her phone when they were together, the screen open to her conversations with her mother and all of the recent texts going completely unanswered. He knew she had always had a rocky relationship with them, but she spoke about them with such respect, he knew it would’ve bothered her to feel so unimportant.

Knocking on her door, his hands clutched the bag of her favorite food he had got on his walk to her apartment. He had planned this evening out for weeks, not telling her about it in worry that she would slip into a facade put together with a fake smile that made his skin crawl.

She opened it, her body tense and tired in a ratty shirt and shorts, “Oscar? What are you doing here?”

It was as if he saw her front go up, her posture straightening and that haunting smile which told him all too well how much pain she was in. He smiled softly, “I thought we could spend the night together.”

She closed the door enough to only peek her head through, “Osc, I’m so sorry, but I can’t tonight. I’m so busy.”

He stayed put, “That’s okay. I can wait on your couch.”

“No, Osc,” She said firmly, her face turning in the light and exposing the dark bags under her eyes.

He stepped closer to her, putting his hand on the door and looking down at her with a look that made her feel loved, “Y/n, let me in. I know you’re going through it. Let me be with you.”

Her resolve cracked, her smile dropping for a second and water suddenly pooling in her eyes, “You don’t want to come in here.”

He leaned against the door and cupped her cheek, “It won’t make me love you any less.”

With a sigh, Y/n pushed the door open, beckoning the boy into her home. He knew what to expect, he knew what it was like to reach the place she was in. So, when he saw the piles of clothes, half-eaten food on the counter with old dishes in the sink, and her little accessories put in the wrong places, something she would never usually do, he wasn’t surprised. If anything, he was happy she had let him in, literally and figuratively.

She picked at her nails beside him, swaying on her feet as she analyzed his every move. Part of her was trying to ready herself for him to walk out the door, give up on her because of whatever stood before them, but he gently set the food on the floor and ushered her into his embrace. His cheek laid against the top of her head, nestled in her hair, as he tightened his grip around her body. She smelled his cologne and felt his sweatshirt which made him feel all the more warm. There was something about his presence, she would later learn it was how safe she felt, that made the turmoils of her mind quiet as she began to cry. Y/n had promised herself that she wouldn’t cry for people who clearly didn’t care, but as Oscar rubbed her back and whispered how much he loved her, she realized it was never going to work.

Her breaking down wet the material of his sweatshirt, but Oscar just held her tighter, whispering how it was going to be okay and this would all pass.

“You’re so worth it all, Y/n,” He whispered, pecking the top of her ear as he smoothed down her hair.

She clutched his back before Oscar was moving her hands under his hoodie to feel the bare of his skin. He knew she loved that. And she did. Y/n’s tears began to dissipate as he told her why he was there.

“I’m with you in this. You aren’t alone. I’m here for you and I always will be. This,” He gestured to the space around them, holding her face in his hands and forcing her eyes to meet his, “doesn’t scare me at all, love. What does scare me, though, is the attempts at eating on the counter. Have you been eating other than that?”

She shook her head, “I tried. It’s too hard. I’m not hungry ever anymore.”

He titled his head with a small frown, “Well, maybe your favorite food will help, yeah? We’ll sit together and eat. We can go as slow as you want, or as fast. All up to you, baby.”

He kissed her forehead lightly before guiding her to the living room, one of the less dirty places, and setting her down on the cushions. He set it all behind him, not wanting to overwhelm her with everything he got, and took out what he knew she would want first. There was a dull sparkle in her eyes when he handed it to her, his heart lifted. It hadn’t been there when he first arrived.

She opened it slowly, eyeing the food she once ravished in seconds, and taking a utensil to pick at it. He looked at her, waiting patiently for her to take a bite. When she did, however small, he did too. When she did again, he did too.

She stopped, “Why aren’t you eating faster?”

He smiled, “Because I’ll take a bite when you do. I don’t mind, Y/n. I told you I’m in this with you.”

Her eyes gloss over as they dart between him and the food before taking another bite, giggling a bit when Oscar takes one of his own dish. She eats, he does too and their eyes never leave each other, offering unspoken support.

When the plastic boxes are gone and empty, Oscar has glasses of water randomly appearing in his grip, offering them to his girlfriend who has found herself tangled in that soft blanket he got her last Christmas. Her cheeks are a soft pink from the warmth of it coupled with the candle he lit in the midst of their dinner and she smiles when the cool liquid flows down her throat. Oscar stands over her, hands in his pockets and wondering how anyone could possibly ignore her texts. He wants to take a picture of her, remind her parents of the beauty they have in their reach. But, he also knows that any text he sends to them wouldn’t be one he should send to his potential (very likely) in-laws. So, he stays quiet and looks at her with the love she deserves.

“Do you need anything else?” He asks, pushing the hair out of her face.

She shakes her head, “No, I’m good. What movie do you want to watch?”

He kisses her cheek, “It’s up to you. I won’t be watching.”

Her eyebrows knot together and she cocks her head, “Why not? Is this some random pickup line where you’re going to tell me how you’ll only be watching me?”

He laughs, his head back, as he walks toward her room, “No, but that’s a good one. I’ll keep that for later. You put on whatever you want, baby. I’ll be cleaning.”

She crawls to the corner of the couch, watching him begin to pick up her room, “Clean? What? Why?”

He stops, turning around to look at her through the door, “Because I want to help you feel better and I know your apartment is stressing you out. You shouldn’t have to worry, love. Just relax. I’ll be done in a few hours.”

Her mouth is agape as he moves throughout her room, putting things away as if he knows where everything goes. He does, apparently. And when the shock of it wears off, a smile cements itself on her face as she turns on a random movie. She enjoys the soft humming of Oscar in the other room, answering his occasional question about the plot of the movie she’s watching. When he moves to the kitchen, out in the open and available to see what’s on the screen, Y/n falls asleep to the picture of her boyfriend doing her dishes and taking out her trash. Falling asleep with a warm heart mended by someone that has always loved her unconditionally.

—

She’s awoken by the feeling of soft mattress beneath her and Oscar’s arms heavy around her torso. He’s deep in sleep when she opens her eyes, has her completely enveloped in his grasp on her side. The room is dark, the window open and allowing for a cold breeze to flow through the room. She loves it. It’s cold outside, but Oscar keeps her warm. Her hands move their way up to his head, playing with his hair and staring at the man who has treated her so gently.

Tears fall down her face all so suddenly, sniffling lightly but still waking Oscar in the process.

He’s immediately worried, “What’s wrong?”

Her head drops to his chest, “I just love you so much and can’t tell you how much it meant to me that you stayed here even after seeing the state everything was in, including me.”

His soft hands leave her body and pull her face up to him. His eyes are dilated as he looks at her, “I would’ve done it yesterday and I’ll do it for the rest of our lives. I don’t want you to struggle alone. You don’t deserve that. You’ve done too much of that before you met me.”

If only her younger self could see her now. A younger girl worried she’d never find a man who loved her by seeing her now wholly adored by someone who didn’t just see her, but understood her too. She doesn’t even need to utter the problem, he already knows and she’s caught on to that since the moment he showed up at her door. His carefully chosen words about her worth and how easy it is to love her were all strategically placed in order to fix the cracks deep in her soul that have come undone at the hands of her parents.

“It’s just upsetting that they only loved me.” She whispers and for a second, Oscar doesn’t understand what she’s saying. But, the tense of her words dawns on him and the look on her face unleashes anger in his body. Loved. It’s upsetting that her parents loved her. They no longer do in her eyes. She once had parental support, love, but it’s obvious how transactional, conditional it was now. She got a taste of what it was like to be loved by them, but it was taken away when she needed it the most. She had mentioned to him before that growing up, she felt as if they used her presence to shy away from the problems of their marriage. When she was out of the house, she thought they would separate, but the opposite has happened. She served her purpose, now they throw money at trips to fill the void of what they have refused to face. Disregarded and thrown away, that’s the implications of what she’s confided.

He nods, tears in his eyes, “It’s so unfair of them to treat you this way. They’re your parents. They should be there for you, but they have never known how to love and you were just an unnecessary victim in it all.”

She wipes the moisture from her face, “I should just move on from the way they’ve treated me. I should give them grace because they’re my parents. I should just make peace with it all because this will never be fixed in the way I want it. But, I can’t.”

Oscar kisses the top of her head, “It’s okay that you can’t. That’s completely understandable. Giving grace just because they’re your family members isn’t right, Y/n. Just because there’s a blood relation doesn’t mean you can excuse their behavior. They’re your parents and they have neglected you for ages. You can’t keep giving everything to them, only to get nothing in return. Parents or not, you distance yourself from people who bring you down as much as they do.”

More tears smear against his chest, “But, they’re my parents, Osc.”

It’s as if he doesn’t know what to say because he knows how much she praises their drive and determination, giving her a life of privilege. Though, he stands firm on the idea that no one should be given a second chance if they “love” this way.

“I know, Y/n, and it’s so horrible that you’ve been put in this situation, but I think it would do you some good to let go of a part of them. You’ll go home and see them for birthdays, Christmases, but, in the time between, you don’t have to chase after them. You can find love in other things, happiness in other things. I’ll even do some of it with you. We can take up painting classes like you always wanted, walks in that park down the street that you love, studying in coffee shops, and watching the sunset. Life without them can be freeing.”

He’s right, she thinks. Life without them will be freeing. But, the story of letting go is never easy and finding yourself flipping to past chapters to hold onto something that isn’t there anymore is usual.

However, as she lays tangled in the limbs of Oscar, she finds future chapters to be more exciting, more fulfilling. Her whole life is ahead of her, one including Oscar, and that sudden revelation fills her with an overwhelming relief. His listing of all the things she loves, wants to try desperately reminds her just how in love with her he is. Every action of hers is noted by him and she’s spent years begging for that from her parents. She never got it, but maybe that was because something else softer lied in the cards for her. At times, her parents needed her, but they would always need something else more. Glamorous, shiny, new things that would satisfy them for a time. She would never be enough in the minds of them, but in the mind of Oscar, she was more than enough. It was clear she was everything to him.

A life with him would be different from the one handed to her on a broken, rusty platter. She wanted that with him and the way he looked at her told her he did too. Letting go of the dismissal of people she has killed herself for to make proud was maybe for the best, pushed her in the direction of focusing on Oscar and everything she’s ever wanted. Was this her mending old, deep wounds?

Loved and cherished, she found sleep once more, rejuvenated with hope and a sense of moving on.

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part-time-zombie · 9 months

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Does anyone else talk about how the different ways the sides names were revealed can often be analogous to the different ways folks come out about their queer identity?

Logan didn't reveal his name by choice, patton did it for him. Thomas was surprised by logans name, mostly by the implications of the sides having names instead of just titles and nicknames. Patton didn't seem to think too much about revealing logans name, and logan didn't seem too worried/upset about it either. His relationship with his name seems awfully casual, like it doesn't bother him if people know his name or not.

Patton in turn waited for a little later to reveal his name, finding the best timing. He even took advantage of the opportunity by using his name reveal as pun ammunition, reveling in the chance to now make more puns based on his name. He was excited to reveal his name, especially now that it can pave the way for more fun and bonding with the others now that they know more about him.

Roman kept it quiet for a bit, holding it close to his chest until he was ready. When he and thomas were alone, sharing their thoughts on self worth and value, he revealed his name so as to help them both get closer. This was a private, emotionally intimate moment where they were opening up about sensitive topics, and roman figured there was no better moment than this one.

Virgil was scared about the whole thing. It was a huge step for him to be so open about such a personal secret, and he avoided it for as long as he could. But when the others reached out to him and made him realize his importance with the group he's grown to call a family, he knew he was ready to share this with them. It was a big step and he was clearly scared, but his trust was well placed.

Remus came into the scene loud and clear. He was ready for people to know and see him, because whatever they thought about him was their problem. He played along with the nickname game for a bit, but when the others expressed confusion about exactly what he is supposed to be/represent, he gave them the answer, bluntly and clearly. His lack of tact and fear actually surprised everyone, since the others were more reluctant to share their names, but remus didn't care about keeping secrets.

Janus loved to keep secrets, especially his own. The less people knew about him the better. He knew more than anyone that people can be gossipy, judgemental rumor mills that spread sensitive secrets like pollen in the wind, and he wasn't about to let himself get caught up in the drama of it all. Besides, with how the others have been treating him, why should they know anything about him? He felt that they didn't care about him, so a name reveal would be unwarranted. When it was proven that he had a seat at the table like the rest, and that his input was indeed wanted, he knew they would be willing to trust him. It would only be fair to trust them in return, starting with his name.

Idk where I was going with this, something something signs of trust and openness with the group and the complex relationship people have with a secret that they feel can define their identity.

#sanders sides #logan sanders #patton sanders #roman sanders #virgil sanders #remus sanders #janus sanders #thomas sanders #hear me out #just a thought #i say things

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miguel-ohara-lover · 1 month

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Stress

CW: Smut, little dialogue, gn!reader, no reader description so it should hopefully work for everyone(I hope)

A/N: I’m a bit rusty idk how good this’ll be-

As Miguel worked tirelessly on monitoring and protecting the multiverse, you couldn’t help but notice just how tense and stressed he constantly seemed. You felt the need to aid him, but any attempt to interrupt his work usually lead to a groan and some excuse for you to leave. Well, more like an order to leave disguised.

Your eyes drifted over his body, his tensed shoulders and back down to his legs where his large hand resting, fingers drumming against his thigh as he watched the screens. He didn’t notice your presence at the moment, he got used to tuning out anyone who would dare walk through, it was a waste of time acknowledging them from his platform. It wasn’t much of a surprise when he failed to realize you getting closer.

Currently his platform was only a foot off the floor, it was lunch time so it’s likely he had the fleeting thought to leave his office, long enough to lower the platform, before quickly deciding it wasn’t worth his time. He only noticed you once you stepped onto the platform, but he didn’t turn around to greet you just yet. Only when your hands landed on his shoulders did he bother to pay attention to a presence in the room.

You felt his muscles tense more at the touch, as if without words he was asking what you were doing. You answered despite not hearing a question.

“You’re very tense, Miguel. Taking a break would be very good for you.” You lean down, speaking softly into his ear. As he listened to your voice his shoulders relaxed slightly. He remained silent but allowed you to massage the stress away. Even if it was just for this moment, he’ll allow himself to relax.

The tension left his muscles, and soon filled the air. You two were no strangers, but it was more of a one night stand, years ago, but you always longed for that again. Your hands drifted down his back, then back up and over his shoulders.

Miguel leaned his head back, his red eyes meeting yours. Your hands stopped a moment and he made a ‘come here’ gesture with his finger. You could only guess what he meant, and after a moment of thinking whether sleeping with your boss was a good idea, you decided you don’t care. Slowly you walk around until you are in front of him.

His hands reach up to your hips, and before you could consider what he may do next, you’re swiftly pulling into his lap. The look on your face must have been one of surprise, his next move being some half-ass way of saying you started this. He didn’t seem angry, which is a surprise, but one you were grateful for.

The holographic suit dissolved bellow you, and you could suddenly feel what he had kept hidden underneath. The blush on your cheeks grew as you realized how impatient he seemed. His hands were fast to remove your clothes, just enough for your activities to come. He wanted to make this quick, his mind still busy with his work.

Your hands settled on his shoulders, fingers digging into his rough skin as he guided you onto his shaft. As hard as you try, you can’t keep the noises from escaping you. He, on the other hand, loved those noises. It was music to his ears, and such a shame he couldn’t hear it more often.

His hands gripped her waist as he moved you up and down, his strength not allowing you to move freely, ain’t was he used your hole like his own personal toy. His grip was strong and demanding, and it turned you on oh so much. Your fingers moved up and tangled in his hair as you leaned in for a sloppy kiss.

The pace quickened as the activity turned from transactional to more intimate. Perhaps he can let himself go for a bit, get lost in the warmth of your presence, the feeling of your lips on his, your tightness around his length. Yes, he could definitely get used to this.

As you bounced on his lap, the only sounds filling the air being your moans and skip hitting skin, you felt your release build up. You knew it would be soon, his size and speed ensured that. He had to be close too, his pace becoming for irregular, his breathing deeper, and perhaps a few noises left him as well.

You rocked your hips slightly and felt him buck under you as he spilled inside you, filling you up like he did all those years ago. It was still as amazing as it was then, and it was the final straw, the last push you needed to join him in sweet ecstasy. Your lips clashed in one final passionate kiss, both of you panting as you pulled away.

He let you sit in his lap as the two of you came down from your high, maybe even longer. Miguel seemed to grow fond of your presence, not making you leave as soon as he was done with you. His hand moved gently up and down your back as you rested your head on his shoulder. Yes, he could definitely get used to this…

#miguel o’hara lover ❤️💙#miguel o'hara #across the spiderverse #atsv #atsv miguel #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o’hara smut

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fcthots · 7 months

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just saw your post about motorcycle bf jason and i'm...i'm fine. i'm normal. i'm not thinking about riding w him and just holding onto him with your whole body and him tapping your thigh to remind you to lean with him on sharp turns. how he never lets you on the bike without full gear bc he's terrified of you getting hurt bc of him. (is it custom gear in his specific shade of red? maybe!)

not thinking about him teaching you to ride, standing next to you with his arm around you while you sit on his gigantic ten-million pound motorcycle (that he pushes around like it weighs nothing), leaning over you to point out certain parts of the bike and explaining everything and answering all your questions patiently and being really sweet in general but also laughing at you bc you can't find neutral.

not thinking about waiting for him to get back from a late night ride and just swinging your leg over his lap to straddle him before he even gets off the bike...the gloves and helmet still on...idk...not thinking...no thoughts...

Anon I love. This is EVERYTHING.

He absolutely has entirely custom gear in his exact shade of red! He will not let you NEAR the bike if you haven't put on your helmet yet. He's so excited that you love backpacking. His favorite thing is when you lean forward and hold onto him. You love the adrenaline that courses through your veins, knowing that if you let go, you die. It stresses him the fuck out, but the look on your face makes it worth it. He reaches over and taps your thigh when a big turn comes into sight. You follow him as he leans and he can't help but smile as you do it without even thinking.

He wants to make sure you know how to ride if you would ever need to and also bc you won't stop asking. He pushes the bike closer to you like it weighs five pounds and not a thousand. You go to push it slightly backward so you have more room to start, but it went budge. He thinks it's fucking hilarious. He starts pointing out the different parts of the bike, he shows you the basics of the gear shift, and then he helps you on. He follows behind on one of the motorcycles he's been "borrowing" from Bruce for months. When you roll back in to the parking garage he falls to the floor laughing as you yell out a string of curse words trying to find neutral. You thought your biggest threat would be the bike stalling and not trying to switch the gear to neutral. He hops on behind you and does it for you. Hot.

A few days later he goes for a ride and he's been out for a while and you can't stand waiting any longer, seriously. What is this guy doing?

He pulls in two hours after he left and he barely has time to shut off the bike before you're swinging your leg over to straddle him. You take his helmet off and his hair is so poofy, but perfect for you to tangle your fingers in.

#saph’s love letters #jason todd #jason todd x reader #saph’s thots #red hood #red hood x reader #jason todd imagine #jason todd x you #red hood imagine #red hood x you #anon #anon im ab to name you 🏍️ anon bc I need you to come back. you dropped a masterpiece in my drafts and then just LEFT.#LEFT like I could just MOVE ON.

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jelliessoap · 8 months

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price x professional baseball player! reader hcs >:]]

male!reader mdni probably long as shit

this idea has been rotting my brain tbh idk why but it’s so !!!!!!! idk but enjoy mwahahaha ( i love this gif sm )

- would meet after the mlb hosted a game in england.

- he didn’t go, you were having a bit of a tour with your teammates and went to grab a drink after a successful game. you were sat next to him at the bar and he struck up a conversation curious about the matching symbols on your hats.

- “never seen that football team before.”

- when you chuckled at him and answered that it wasn’t football finally hearing your accent he was intrigued and your conversation blossomed from there.

- relationship wasn’t a thought for either of you, you were in complete different countries and had busy schedules. but that didn’t mean you guys didn’t wind up developing feelings as time went on

- you guys were more so friends with obvious crushes

- price started learning more about baseball ( watching your game highlights on youtube )

- couldn’t and wouldn’t tell you much about his job though he mentioned it was military. you didn’t pry too much deciding it wasn’t your place

- you decide to fly him out to watch the first playoff game after he congratulated you on making it, before you even told him might i add. he had the time and figured he could use a small get away even if to america of all places to a crowded stadium. it was worth it to see you again.

- bought your bobble head

- did not care for the game until you took the field

- had no clue what was going on but he was cheering for you

- was so excited when your team won

- met up with you after the game and said it wasn’t that interesting but you saw the shirt he bought with your teams logo on it hiding under his arm

- bonus meeting option is some sort of charity event!

now for actually dating lord

- NO. 1 SUPPORTER!!!

- still has the bobble head from the first game of your he went to. he keeps it on the desk of his study and you’ve caught him smiling at it more time than you could count

- goes to all the games of yours he can.

- you live with him in england during off season but have to move back to the US when the season starts up again.

- you both have busy schedules and unpredictable jobs that require travel and at times spontaneous trips but you manage to stay in communication

- should there be a time say when john has a mission that you can’t reach one another you agreed to write letters and exchange them once he returned

- if he can’t watch your game in person its on a tv at base, if theres no tv it’s on a radio. does he understand any of the terminology despite your countless attempts to explain? absolutely not. but his ears perk up and his attention is grabbed whenever he hears the announcer mention your name, reminding him you were still out there.

- you play worse when john is out on missions because you’re worried about him and hoping he’ll make it home unscathed.

- he noticed this watching back on base once and when he got home he wrote a sweet little encouraging note on your glove/bat

- ‘Always watching, give me a good game, slugger. Be home soon. <3 John.’

- heard the term slugger in an old baseball movie you watched together and insisted on making it your nickname

- rented out your home stadium when he proposed to you

- dugout sex

- felt real damn proud of himself when your last name on your jersey changed to price. ( or was hyphenated! )

- you better believe you’ll be rewarded after a good game

- doggy with your jersey still on

- missionary with your jersey on and open so he can rub on your chest and look you in the eyes while he plows you

- “look at their mvp, crying on my cock— what would your team say luv?” omg who wrote that!!!

- he def has a thing for your uniform. those baseball pants show off your ass perfectly

- if he ever bottomed he’d be a power bottom

- would ride you and wear one of your hats you play in or your helmet if you’re a hitter. rimjobs

- you send him dirty pics in your uniform all the time.

- pics with your jersey unbuttoned, drenched with sweat, baseball pants hanging low and your uniform coved in dirt will have him feral for you.

- he’s just a perfect little supportive hubby thh

#too niche?#cod #cod headcanons #call of duty #cod modern warfare #cod mw2 #headcanons #john price #john price headcanons #captain john price #john price x male reader #male reader #cod x male reader

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charlessainzz · 1 month

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Ellooo

I saw your recs were opennnnn

So i uave a request for cluless non-fan reader who attends a race for whatever reason and doesnt know anyone

Driver falls in love with them at first meet/sight

Like idk he saw them being all cute or something from afar or they bump into eachother or reader has to follow a friend whose a huge fan so they kinda look like a lost puppy following their friend around and driver finds them intriguing

Idk u can come up with that bit

But yeah basically clueless reader and driver

Idk which driver

Maybe max or lewis or oscar or even danny

But u can choose anyone ig

I just wanted some fluff cause why not

Thank u sm✨

I love ur writing🫶

thank you for the request!!! appreciate the love, and hope this is what you were looking for :)

Lost and Found

Could it have been any more of a cliche?

Here you were at the Miami Grand Prix lost and wandering around. And where do you find yourself? In the McLaren garage. How? You had no idea. You always seemed to get yourself into the predicaments.

Truth be told, you weren’t very interested in Formula 1. But your friends had an extra ticket so why not get a little tipsy and watch some race cars?

You had been walking with your friends when you decided to make a quick pit stop at the bathrooms. They said they’d wait for you but spoiler alert they didn’t. So here you were looking around the paddock for 3 blondes in Miami, you’d probably never find them!

Thinking you see one of your friends you begin shouting out to her as she entires the building wrapped in papaya orange. As you walk further into the building you can hear the machines and shouting men. That’s when you see the car. It wouldn’t hurt to get closer look. It’d give you something to brag about!

“Can I help you?”, a soft voice said behind you.

You whip your whole body around, “Oh! I got a little lost and was just admiring the car…” you say as your eyes meet his big brown ones. Your face going instantly red, you divert your eyes hoping he won’t see how flustered you are.

“It’s a nice car right?”, he says with a laugh. “We added some updates that’ll hopefully take us to RedBulls level but we’ll see”, he rambles.

You nod aggressively and say, “Never seen anything like it, very shiny!”. As you begin reaching out touch the tail end.

“Wait! No!”, he shouts and pulls you into him. “Unless you want hundreds of dollars worth of fines, I would not do that,” he says with a worried look. That’s when you realize you’re both caught up in each others arms.

Clearing your throat, you take a step back. “You seem to be very knowledgeable about all this stuff…” you say as you look around the garage.

He looks at you and begins to laugh, “you could say I’m somewhat of an expert”.

“I had a feeling. So are you a mechanic or pit crew?” you ask with sincerity.

His eyes light up at your question. Just as he’s about to answer another person calls out to him, “Oscar! Time to get in the car!”.

He begins to zip up his race suit. “You should hang around for the race and see why I’m such an expert in this stuff”, he says as he brushes his hands through his hair.

You look around the garage and find the guy who saved you from a million fines face plastered all over the walls. Oscar Piastri. Oh shit, he’s one of the drivers.

“What happens if I continue to hang around even after the race?” you ask with a smirk.

“Well then I might just have to take out to celebrate my win”, he slyly replies.

You cock your head as you eye him up and down. “Hmm…. sounds like a plan” you reply. “Don’t take too long then, I might get lost again.”

He starts laughing as he tugs his helmet on. “I’ll be back in no time”, he says with a wink and closes his visor.

Maybe your friends ditching you wasn’t so bad after all. A date with a Formula 1 driver, definitely something to brag about.

#f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 fanfic #writtenbycharlessainzz #f1 fic #oscar piastri x reader #f1 requests open #f1 x you #oscar piastri #f1 x y/n #anon request #mclaren #oscar piastri fluff

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jadeittic · 1 year

Note

Hi, so if your doing wednesday request ,may I request Xavier Thorpe x wednesday twin brother please?

DEATH OF ME

XAVIER THORPE + MALE!ADDAMS TWIN!READER

In which Wednesday Addams notices that her twin brother might have developed an interest to a familiar artistic schoolmate of theirs.

WARNINGS: swearing, really shitty bcs idk how to write but here u go anyway

YN Addams was known for lots of things. Number one was being Wednesday Addams' twin brother - and being her twin brother came with its pros and cons, but it was bearable (he once almost died due to lack of oxygen due to being locked in a coffin after he dropped a colored pencil on Wednesday's bedroom floor).

Nevertheless, people would expect YN to be a lot like his sister; gothic, obsessed with death, or just to simplify; a gothic sadist.

Gothic, yes, but not too much. YN would rather be naked in public than wear anything with color. One drop of anything other than black or white in the Addams' household and you're dead. Literally.

The obsessiveness with death was up to Wednesday, that's her job. YN Addams was almost the complete opposite. Black and white clothes still make an appearance all the time, but at first glance you wouldn't even spare a thought thinking he'd be an Addams.

One thing that Wednesday dislikes about YN a lot is how he doesn't act as creepily as she does. He was...sweet. Which was weird, considering he was an Addams. YN had this open personality which was just free and happy. He also has this side where if you mess with him, or just piss him off in any way, expect a Wednesday Addams male version. And let me tell you, you do not want him to get mad at you.

And Xavier never really cared about that. Ever since the Addams twins transferred due to...past stuff in the last school, YN caught the artist's attention. He just stood out in the family, is all.

FIRST DAY AT NEVERMORE

YN sucked at navigating. Wednesday left him to check out her room with her new roommate which she dreaded to have. YN's been wandering around, trying to find the principal, or just any student at all, when his eyes spotted a boy. this boy had his hair fallen down, almost reaching his shoulders. Blazer's sleeves rolled up with a paintbrush occupying his hand. He was painting.

YN walked up to him and looked at the ladder he was on and hoped that this mysterious boy would notice his presence without him needed to say anything, which didn't work.

"Hey?" YN asks, already seeming to be losing patience in a short amount of time (something the Addams have). YN failed to notice the earbuds he had on due to his beautif-- long hair. He seemed to not see the boy underneath him, until he saw a hand appear in his sight.

Taking off his earbuds and stepping off the ladder, he looked over t the person and took a good look.

"You new here? Haven't really seen you around," he asks, eyes wandering around YN's face. His eyes, which held some sort of emotion he couldn't really place a name on. His hair, plain black, yet so beautiful, such as his clothes and eyes. His lips, placed in a natural frown- Why was he looing at his lips?

"---where they are?" He was soon pulled out of his trance when he saw the soft lips he was just staring at move. Shit, had he been caught?

"Excuse me?"

"I was asking if you know where these classes are? I just transferred here and i have absolutely no idea where anything is." God, Xavier thought he was adorable. Wait, what? Xavier Thorpe, Nevermore's sappy teenager has found an interest to another person whose name he hasn't even known yet?

Xavier saw a chance and he took it. He wanted to know more about this mystery new student in his school. Plus, it wouldn't hurt to have a school crush again, am I right?

"I could give you a tour around the school, if you'd like. I'm free in about an hour." YN wasn't sure with what his answer would be. Would it be worth it? If he'd be honest, he thinks the boy in front of him was a fairly attractive man. Mind you, we get a school tour, and a chat with him.

"Sure. YN Addams.”

“YN Addams…like the Addams family?” Xavier wasn’t trying to be rude, let alone offend YN. He was just…surprised?

YN continued to ignore his question, as he waited for his name. The name he's been wanting to know since he first talked to him.

"Oh- uhm, Xavier. My name's Xavier Thorpe." Xavier Thorpe. It had a nice ring to it, if YN would be completely honest.

"I'll wait for you, Xavier Thorpe."

Ever since then, they've been inseparable. As so would say, "Thorpe and Addams, what an unusual pair", was now old news to them. Little did they know they've been yearning for love. Love for one another.

At this point, Wednesday had noticed. The long stares at each other when one isn't looking, their seats getting closer and closer by the day, And oh god, don't even make her think about the desperate gazes at their lips. It was like she was watching some romantic show, which she hated. A lot.

Wednesday wanted to talk to YN about this, but of course, he'd be busy because he'd be 'hanging out with Xavier at his shed', and that he'd be 'making it up to you soon, just don't worry about it, yeah?'.

Now was the perfect timing. Now with Enid gone somewhere around the school, Xavier busy being in detention, YN was just hanging out with his sister. Wednesday's been writing for the past hour, and just couldn't stop herself from asking,

"Do you find Xavier Thorpe intriguing?"

Looking up from the uninteresting book yn got from his sister’s desk, to her shadowed eyes, which held interest into her brother’s answer to her question.

“What?”

“Do you like him?” there’s no way YN is going to get away without answering her question, should he tell her? Not that she’d care, but YN was just worried. Which again, might not be an Addams trait.

“Tell him.” what?

"what?” YN repeated again. Wednesday never really took anyone’s emotions to heart, constantly just ignoring them and would sooner forget them. Why was she telling him to tell Xavier?

“Go. Tell him what he needs to be told.” it was like Wednesday was begging for her brother to leave and tell Xavier. She’s been there in the ups and downs of their friendship and she’s noticed their feelings develop into something bigger. She’d never admit it, but she really does hope it works out for her brother and her… friend?

After a long moment of silence, YN stood up from his spot and headed to the door. He could no longer feel the stare of his sisters while he walked through the empty room. A moment of gratitude was shared in the silence, they both will remember that forever.

God, YN didn’t even know what he’d say. What if he makes a complete fool of himself? Would Xavier hate him after he finds out? would he still even accept YN as a fr-

Knock, knock, knock.

YN realises he’s never left the room, he was just in front of the door, completely overthinking his whole situation. YN's forgot about Wednesday being in the room, until she pointed out that someone has knocked the door.

What YN didn't expect is that Xavier was at the door, Xavier Thorp, knocking at Wednesday addams’ room door. Why?

“Oh, hey. Figured you were here, can we talk?” Xavier wants to talk? about what? Was it the same reason YN wanted to talk to him about as well?

Walking out of the room and closing the door behind, the pair refused to look at each other. It was as if they were both nervous about something. Well, YN was. And Xavier didn’t know that, neither did YN know Xavier’s been feeling nervous ever since the start of the day.

“What’s up?” YN first spoke up. Fuck, the silence was deafening. YN just wanted to tell xavier how he feels and just kiss his soft li-

“I’ve been wanting to tell you this for a really, really long time, and I am so fucking sure you’re going to hate me for this. I just like you, like a lot. And its not just in a platonic and friendly way, I like you romantically and I just want us to be more than what we are now. You can hate me it’s fine, I just wanted to tell you-“

“Xavier-“

“About how I feel because it’s just so hard keeping my feelings when you’re being so stupidly perfect. your stupid hair, your stupid eyes, your stupid lips that I just want to fee-“

“I like you too.”

“See? I like you too! And I just hope, I just really hope that you’d- what did you just say?”

“I like you too, Xavier Thorpe.”

Wide grins were painted on the pair’s faces. So wide their cheeks were starting to hurt, but they couldn’t care less because of what just happened.

“You do?” Xavier’s eyes were going glossy, in disbelief that this is all happening. The love of his life-YN Addams, likes him back. YN nodded sheepishly, now embarrassed that Xavier knew.

“You’re going to be the death of me, YN Addams.”

#wednesday #wednesday x reader #wednesday addams x reader #tyler galpin x reader #xavier thorpe x reader #enid sinclair x reader #bianca barclay x reader #ajax petropolus x reader #jadeittic

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bronx-bomber87 · 1 month

Text

Hello amazing fandom :) I have been itching for this ep since the moment D sent me the ep description for it. I'm glad they didn't spoil much of this ep at all. I have a lot of feelings for this one so might be so mini LOL Off we go.

6x05 The Vow

Oh my lord starting out hot with a romantic dinner and a kiss. Also want to talk about they both light up when they see each other. Like they're still in that honeymoon phase somewhat. They’re both so happy to see each other I wanna die. haha Lucy of course has to question the gift. Saying gift giving is not his love language. Damn they cute. Tim saying he is trying to change things up. I’m squeeing and we’re like less than a minute in everyone.

Damnit he’s so romantic with what the gift is. It’s her radio from last week. Oh my word. Lucy is in awe of this man standing before her. Oh my goodness we get a second kiss I’m squeeing so hard. *screams into a pillow* A thank you kiss no less. Loving how he has his hand wrapped around her arm. Pulling her in close for both misses. You know I should've known this ep was going to hurt with getting two kisses within the span of 3 minutes and a cute ass moment to boot.

Like in a video game where they let you stumble upon a bunch of ammo right before a massive fight scene. You know shit is about to go down with them supplying you like that. How I felt with getting cuteness and two kisses right away. I am so excited Tamara has appeared. Wouldn’t be the return of her if she didn’t cock block them. Tim shaking his head too. Classic. Lucy telling her it’s ok. Also LOVING that they have a pre-planned date night. Be still my heart.

Tim gets his cryptic ass phone call and immediately takes off. Lucy looks crushed for a couple reasons. First that he can’t stay. She was clearly looking forward to a night with her man all day. Second the fact he's so short with her. Breaking my heart 'Just wait.' Her Tim radar is going OFFFF Lucy looks SHOOK with his hasty departure. Her heart just walked out the door and it shows.

Oh my word I knew It would be from his military past. The blind spot for the most part we have with his character. I was hoping it would be. The Tim fan girl in me is psyched af. I was thinking who is this Ray and why is Tim so spooked? Then we find out this dude killed their friends and there’s a promise.... Uhhhh the promise is to kill him? Uh Timothy, my love you are a cop….

Oh Lucy is anxious af without him. Ugh she knows something is wrong immediately. Knows this man too damn well. Side tangent about to start. I know some people complained how long it took for them to get together blah blah. BUT I wasn’t. These moments right here are exactly why.

The fact that the very second he took that call she knew deep in her gut something was wrong with him. That is not a connection you get with someone overnight. That is years worth of working together, leaning on each other, learning about one another and seeing each other through a lot of things together. That connection and instinct on someone is built over time.

The beautiful recipe they have now wasn’t ready till we got close to it in s4 and even then they still had some tweaking to do before we reached S5. That being said I love her missing him. My guess is other than 6x01 they’ve scarcely spent a night apart. Also her Tim radar is going bonkers right now. She looks so sick to her stomach when she hangs up.

Tim seeing Lucy’s call going off and not being able to answer. It's clearly killing him. We see him take a beat and a deep breath. Clearly doesn’t want to be here rather be there with her. Last thing he wanted was his date night interrupted. Also she is his ‘go to’ for pretty much everything. You know its actively tearing him up to not answer her.

Oh my he was called the 'Reaper'? Holy hell why is that so attractive? Everything with Tim usually is. But hot damn that being his nickname in the service? I am fanning myself. Idk if that's wrong but I am haha But it does give us insight to who he was in the service tbh. You don't get called 'The Reaper.' without good reason.... Why Greer thinks Tim is going soft on him.

I do love Tim reinforcing the law also very attractive oh my goodness. You tell ‘em love. I don’t love this guy guilting Tim into keeping this pact. He’s SOOOOO loyal he’s gonna keep to it. Even at his own detriment. The man shoulders SO MUCH he already doesn't need to. Ugh Tim saying they’ve built lives. Yes you have. With Lucy. The love of your life you walked away from tonight to be here right now. After this chat I knew this ep was going to hurt so good. I could feel it.

The jokes in the car are cute was hoping he’d ask Tim about Lucy. Sadly we didn't' get this. This whole situation makes me nervous af. God Tim looks extra fine in this episode street clothes on him are a wonder. A delicious one.

My god this list of crimes this guy has done sweet lord. Stole money. Called in an air strike on his own men when they came for him holy shit …Wasn't enough to bury in a shoe box.....fuck they both lied to get Ray’s wife and kid death benefits and if they bring him in it’s a problem.

Crap this is so bad Tim... Saying they’ll get fired from their current jobs and be dishonorably discharged from the service. I’m nervous…this isn’t a good situation. Also not surprised in the least he broke the rules to take care of someone. That empathy of his ran deep before it got buried by his Isabel trauma later on.

First off let me say Eric KILLED ME in this scene. I was tearing up at how tore up he is about all of this. Tim wanting to take the fall.... Damnit Timothy you have a life too. Don't fall on your sword my god imma cry. Tim’s integrity is one of his sexiest traits IMO. I too have a deep sense of integrity drives everyone I work with insane. He’s in tears saying he would arrest him. Oh my word. I'm crying again. Eric killing me softly holy hell. I'm so mad at Greer for putting that on him. I had a bad feeling about Greer the minute he guilted Tim into this side OP.

How dare you put that on my Tim. He already has so much on his soul. A chunk of it not even his fault. The man is a deeper empath than he gets credit for. He absorbs the feelings and pain of those around him and shoulders things he doesn't need to. I'm learning in therapy I do the same thing. My therapist told me one thing to be empathetic. It's another to feel responsible for other's feelings or the outcome of actions I've taken and how it affects others. I feel like Tim is the same way. He's such an empath he's taken that responsibility to the extreme and is carrying things he doesn't need to be.

I wanna hug him oh my god. His sigh when Greer left. My heart. I'm sure part of the reason he's hiding this from Lucy is the shame he feels. This man (Ray) stole half a million from the government then bombed his own people on his watch. Tim breaks the rules to make sure his widow and child are taken care of and its bites him in this ass. There is a reason he was/is so damn rigid as a cop. 'Rules matter boot.' His PTSD in a line. Anytime he has let his guard down and skirted the rules people have been injured (Mitch) or in this case killed. Ugh. My poor boy. The hitch in his breath like he couldn't breath that entire convo. I'm hurting so much for him in this episode.

Poor Lucy kept it together at work but lost it when he finally gets home. That look of hope when he walks through the door then instant anger. ‘Telling me you’re alive is not optional.’ Ugh she’s not wrong....I can only imagine what her anxiety was doing to her until he walked through that door. It's shown in her lines above. Her imagining him bleeding out somewhere.

She is not wrong it wasn't ok he didn't even tell her he was alive. I get why he didn't but he should've. Lucy straight confronting him. Asking him what the actual hell is going on with him? No one knows you better than her. You can't hide what you're going through. Tim of course wants to protect her from being fired and refuses to tell her what he's torn up about. Only alluding to it's serious enough if she knows she will be jeopardizing her standing at work.

Her saying 'Then what are you doing here?' God damn Lucy... telling it like it is. Holy hell. Poor Tim is so taken aback by her response. He breaks my heart when he says 'I came to see you.' Lucy has become his safe place. His comfort zone. So by default he came here to seek that comfort. She is home now and he came home. But she can’t comfort you when she doesn’t know what to comfort you for. This scene hurts to watch. Because he is DYING for her compassion, her warmth and just her. He is denied access because she is setting a boundary with this as she should. Tim needs to share the load with her. To tell her the truth. She is willing to risk her standing for him.

My god if she actually knew she would be kicking herself for how much he needs her right now. But she doesn't know so she sends him away. The tears in both their eyes His 'Understood'. Man is about to cry in front of her. I’m dying. Someone revive me. I’m dead and not in a good way. I’m crying. Eric and Melissa out here crushing it though. Gah Tim would rather blow them up and protect her than not ugh Timmmmmmm I get both sides of this. Tim thinks since this is pre-Lucy and could get her in trouble he needs to bear this alone. When she is begging him to let her share the load of this. Sending him away is her setting a boundary. That he needs to think not just of her but of them. To tackle things together. To stop protecting her.

They’re both hurting in this scene. But the issue at hand still is them only thinking in terms of 'Me' not us. Even though when one of them does this it’s to protect the other. That’s fine and dandy but when it come to them as a whole it’s a problem. Shit hits the fan they eject away thinking that’s the best course of action. It’s been an issue for some time this lack of communication. This is just bringing it to a head. They don’t think how can we tackle this together? They think how can I protect my person from this? Or protect their feelings by lying.

Also think that radio being in this scene was there for a reason. That radio is the representation of Lucy not telling Tim exactly how not ok she was in 6x04. She was so willing to pretend she was ok. And instead of leaning on him. Voicing that so they could tackle it together. She ran into the line of fire recklessly instead to prove herself worthy again. Almost killing herself in the process. Because she was in her head instead of communicating to Tim. These two gonna be death of me...

Wanna hug Lucy. She is desperate for any kind of help. So she reaches out to Nolan. John per usual is completely useless for her in a crisis. Man is as useful as using a fork to eat soup. These are the moments I miss Jackson for Lucy so much. He would’ve had a much better an answer. Then just ‘you're shit out of luck.’ That’s not enough damnit.

Nolan basically saying. "What are you gonna do?' with a shrug. If I could clock you John I would. I don't normally watch the preview for the next ep till I'm done assembling my thoughts. But with this one I couldn't wait. This is why Lucy goes to Angela next week about Tim instead. She needed a real grown up to help her with Tim.

We rejoin Lucy looking at her phone. Trying so damn hard not to reach out. To be the trusting girlfriend for her man. I know we're in a bad spot but Lucy calling Tim 'her man' gah yes please more of that. I am grateful for Tamara. She needs her right now since Nolan is useless af. Lucy is trying so very hard not to spiral out atm. She confronted him and it didn't go well. Lucy is feeling at a loss right now and rightfully so. I adore Tamara for making her laugh in this moment so very much.

The lesson's Tamara has learned is too damn cute. I loved it so much. Lucy needed this moment of levity and her pseudo daughter crushed it. We pan back to Tim also starting at his phone wanting to call. Ugh Tim what are you gonna do babe? You can’t kill him. Can’t turn him in. I feel sick lol Also once again amazing song to close it out. I watch the ep with my gaming headphones on. One because I love hearing Eric’s voice straight in my ears not gonna lie. Don’t judge me ha Also catch onto music more so with them on.

But back to the matter at hand…Now do I think they’re gonna break up cause he’s gonna protect her? I don’t. Their angst since they got together has always been productive. Is it gonna hurt like a son of a bitch before we get there? Yes.

My hope is this drives them to depend on one another more and not just straight protect each other at the detriment of the one they're ironically trying to protect. Better communication which has been an issue for some time. To learn to face these challenges not only head on but hand in hand while they do so. These are the types of things they need to learn before their relationship gets any more serious than it is tbh. So while this hurts like a lot it'll be good for them in the long run.

This season has EXCEEDED my expectations ten fold. If you aren't happy with this season idk what will make you happy tbh. I said the same thing about S5 as well. I cannot wait for next week. Which I am hoping is full of worried/feral Lucy and their reunion and growth from it. Phew feel free to comment any theories or thoughts on my first take thoughts I love them so. Also thank you everyone supporting these mini reviews you're amazing and makes the effort always worth it.

Side notes -non Chenford

Ok Aaron seeing his therapist at the bar excited for him I knew low key there would be something there.

Bailey and John seem so cold I know they’re on duty but even grey held his wife’s hand at the hospital…

Of course Smitty takes his break at a therapist office

Lucy’s joke about Celina omg LOL I'm impressed with such a solid joke when she was low key worried the love of her life was dying in a ditch somewhere...

Also clearly his therapist is a lying liar who lies but how can she not be? She's his therapist and WORK one at that. Be interesting to see how this unfolds.

#Caitlin mini reviews #chenford #s6 #6x05 The Vow #the rookie 6x05 #otp: unless it is #otp: doing my job #tim x lucy #tim bradford #lucy chen #lucy x tim #eric winter #melissa o'neil #the rookie #tim bradford x lucy chen

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sugaimhome · 1 year

Text

country house setting kth - part three

pairing: 19th century taehyung x reader

minors do not interact!!!

warnings (this part): age gap (10 years, readers 18, he’s 28), masturbation??, smut, smooching, some kind of breeding kink is mentioned? idk either tbh, hes soft af, sex, yandere (? he’s very obsessed with her and her innocence, still, lol), hints towards previous abuse, distant father figure, the messed up society of 19th century britain.

words: 7k

series summary: your isolated manor house has nothing interesting going on. but when the abandoned manor near to yours has a new occupant, things change. taehyung is obsessed with you from the day you first knock his door. he’d do anything for you, even if it meant going against your father’s wishes, even if it meant you losing something very important to your future marriage on the way, something that would force your fathers hand.

part one part two part three masterlist

explanation of the title: a literacy genre where fictional characters are often isolated and alone living in a country house.

A/N: its been a month since the last chapter... i am so so sorry for taking such a long time but i am really happy with this. please enjoy the little cliff hanger at the end, though we all know what the answer will be... don’t we?

Taehyung woke in the morning, bars of light that filtered through his bedroom hitting his face. Here, the sun rose and woke him every morning. It dyed everything in his room orange, a colour that seemed to light his body and fuel his very essence. He had never been a morning person, but these past few days, that seemed to have changed. Taehyung had let you sleep in, he had pressed his ear to your door, just hoping to hear you, to make sure it all hadn’t been a dream, just hearing your soft breathing through the door. He sighed, knowing you were safe.

“Care.” he had whispered into the chilly air as he climbed down the wooden stairs, being careful not to creak them and wake you up. Care was something he had not felt in a while, he had had friends in London, of course he had, but they were never the kind of friend you cared for. They were friends that were there but only when they wanted to be. It was hard to explain, hard to think about, but Taehyung did not feel a slight tinge of regret for leaving them without a note. He had loved his father, as every child loves their parents, but his care for him extended little past the age of 10, and that was over 15 years ago. He’d never met his mother, and his sister, the only one he had cared for out of all of them, had betrayed him. Care was a thing of the past, but he felt it for you… Pausing on one of the stairs, he lets that information sink in for a little bit. He had known you, what? Two days?

Now, he watches you. You're staring open mouthed at the blurb of a book you had picked up in this little bookstore. The two of you are stuffed down a thin line of two shelves of books, you’re between Taehyung and a wall, meaning that you’re completely safe, giving Taehyung an odd sense of calm he hadn’t realised he had needed, and had no need to feel, you were at a market, what was going to hurt you here? The book you had picked up read “Northanger Abbey - A Lady.” Once you had finished reading the back of the book, slowly, with your pinky nail tracing the words, you sighed, looking up at Taehyung and saying. “I didn’t know women could write!” you’re whisper- shouting with happiness. “Isn’t that amazing?” you ask him, and he only nods in response. It was amazing. You look at the book one last time, being gentle with its new, but fragile, spine you place it back on the shelf.

“Would you like the Novel?” Taehyung asks, reaching towards it. It was only 12 shillings, that was nothing to him, you were worth thousands more than that.

“Oh,” you reply, that delightful blush spreading on your cheeks when you get shy. “No, I don’t expect that of you.”

Taehyung could see that you were torn, part of you really wanted the book, the only books you had had access to were the ones in your fathers library. Y//N wanted the book. That was clear, but you also didn’t want to upset him, you didn’t want to use his money. He sighs, knowing he’ll have to work hard for you to allow him to buy this. “When was your birthday?” he asks.

“March” you reply, your head tilting to the side in confusion. “Why?”

“Then I should buy it for you, as I didn’t get you a present.”

“March was months ago!” you exclaim, a beautiful smile on your lips. “You didn’t even know me then!”

“That was very rude of me, not knowing you, let me buy it.” Taehyung grins, picking up the book and holding it at arms length from you. You don’t even try to fight him for it, you just follow behind him as you head towards the owner. He smiles at the two of you as you approach the counter. “Good Morning” Taehyung says, he can just see you smiling up at him from the corner of his eye.

“Good Morning” the man says, watching Taehyung place the book down on the desk. “Oh, thank goodness someone's finally buying this, I haven't been able to sell it in months”

“Oh! Why's that?” you exclaim, turning your mouth down with the shock of it. Was it a bad book?

“Women shouldn’t be writing” he says, turning his nose up at both you and the book. “Sewing, that's your job.”

You step back a little in shock, the man's spit pretty much hitting you in the face. Taehyung steps in front of you, holding your hand behind his back. “Thank you very much, but we’ll be leaving that here. Have a good day.” He slides the book towards the shop owner, its wooden cover making a shrill noise as he pushes it down against the wood. Then the two of you are storming from the little shop, the bell and the door tinkling and slamming behind you as Taehyung rushes into the street.

When he turns to you, he’s disappointed to see you pouting. “I am sorry” he says, looking down at you, he desperately wants to touch your face but such shows of affection in public are frowned upon. “I would have gotten you the book but-”

“It’s okay” you cut in, reaching out to hold his hand again, against his, your hand is warm. It sets flames up his arm and into his soul. “I didn’t know people could be so-”

He watches you as you pause, looking for the right word. “Rude” he finishes, and damn the public he raises his hand to your cheek, letting you find comfort in his soft touch. “I promise not everyone is rude.”

It’s an unrealistic promise, he knew for himself that kindness is less common than it should be, people like Y/N shouldn’t be exposed to the awful part of the world. He takes in a breath, refraining from storming back into the shop and punching the shop owner in the face. “Shall we go?” you ask, possibly noticing his rising anger.

“After the Dress-Makers” he replies, by then his anger would have dissipated anyway.

“Dress-Makers?!” you exclaim, pulling your hand away from his. Taehyung had half expected this reaction.

“You need dresses that fit you better.” he sighs. “Please let me buy you one.”

“Only one.” you reply, trying to sound in control.

He nods his head. Once the shop had your measurements, he could buy you as many dresses as he wanted, and you could do nothing about it. Taehyung also promised himself he would go above and beyond getting you that book, you had looked so interested in reading something that wasn’t from your fathers library.

“Then we’ll go home, dinner will be ready then” he says, watching you as a curious emotion crosses your face. “If, of course, you want to eat with me.”

“I would appreciate that.” you reply, looking to the floor with that shy blush again, it makes Taehyung's stomach flip.

***

“Where have you been all day?” your father shouts from his study. Obviously, much to your displeasure he was very aware of your absence, you had thought that you had just maybe gotten away with it. You were still on a high, flying amongst the clouds with the birds from your day with Taehyung and you were struggling to find the lie that you knew you would ultimately tell him.

“Walking the grounds!” you shout back, making your way up the stairs quickly so he wouldn’t see the dress you had borrowed from Taehyung's sister. Your father could be rude and inconsiderate, but he would definitely notice your different clothes. When he doesn’t reply, you realise you’d gotten away with it, and after shutting the door to your bedchamber / art room, you allow yourself to fly onto your bed, little specks of dust catapulting upwards with your disturbance. They dance around each other in the bars of light. Taehyung had insisted on walking you home, naturally, and he had kissed you again on your doorstep the way he had the night before. With one hand tangled through your hair and another gripping your waist. You realise how naive you felt in that moment, you had never known that such things as this were possible, and now, staring at your awful painting of two people kissing across your room you almost debate chucking it into the fire. Yet, despite your naivety, you knew there was more, there was more to a kiss than what Taehyung had already shown you. You could tell because, even when he pulled away from you, you could still see his hands itching to keep hold of you, to do more. You just didn’t know what that was, and you desperately wanted to.

Tomorrow you will go to dinner with him again. You had met Victoria today, his maid, and you had loved her, her food had been amazing too. She had fussed over you this morning like no one had ever before, correcting your corset and pinning your hair back in light curls, something you hadn’t even known you were supposed to do. All of that had to go before you came home though, your father would definitely be suspicious if your hair was styled in the modern fashion. You sigh, half hoping your father would move to London for a month like he used to do years ago. It was always at the most random of times, and you would be left to roam the grounds and house with little restraint. He hadn’t been on one of those trips in over nine months, so that hope was out the window.

All you wanted was for you and Taehyung to be alone forever. You had known each other for two days, but you knew that it was right.

***

Months flew by. Most nights you would go to Taehyungs and eat, but you didn’t sleep there again. He kissed you whenever he got the chance, his hands roaming more comfortably around the rest of your body, but he hadn’t gone any further with you, a further that you knew existed just out of your grasp. There were a few times where you nearly got caught, like now, your father knocking the door when your head is resting comfortably against Taehyung's shoulder, the two of you just talking and watching the fire flicker. You had to hide upstairs whilst your father discussed a very important matter.

“Good Evening, sir” Taehyung greeted him as he opened the door, he did well at hiding the shock from his voice. “You are more than welcome to come in.”

You can imagine him stepping aside to let your father into his home, somewhere that had been free of his taint for months. “Thank you, but I am in a little bit of a rush.”

“That is not a problem. How can I help you, sir?” Taehyung replies, with perfect calm and patience in his voice.

“It is just that I have received an urgent message, business you see, to return to London for a month.” you can almost hear the sigh in his voice. “I would appreciate it if you could watch over the grounds for me. Y/N should be home, but I would be a fool to trust the incompatibility of women these days. You don’t mind, do you?” There's an odd humor to his last phrase that has your stomach hitting the floor. Your value to your father seemed to lessen and lessen with each passing day.

“No problem at all.” Taehyung replies, you can hear the tightness in his voice, with the want to defend you. Your stomach that had hit the floor rises again. A whole month with just the two of you. Bliss. Paradise. A miracle. “When will you be leaving?” he asks.

“By sunrise tomorrow, I would like to be on the road before Dawn.”

This really was a last minute trip. Wonderful.

“I will come up and make sure everything is in order as you leave, I will see you in the morning sir.” Taehyung says, in his voice, a sense of command that even your father could and would not deny.

You assume your father nods his thankfulness as the door shuts downstairs. You worry momentarily that he had been looking for you, and you weren’t home. “Y/N” Taehyung shouts, pulling you from your thoughts. “He has gone!”

You're sprinting down the stairs, holding your dress so as to not fall, Taehyung is at the bottom, arms open wide, waiting for you to fall into them. You do, wrapping your arms tightly around him, and he does the same, pulling you tight to him and kissing your head. “You better run home,” he laughs. “He’ll be looking for you soon.”

Morning comes around quickly, your outside helping load all your fathers bags onto the carriage when Taehyung appears over the hill, it takes every strength in your body not to move to him, as you were so used to doing now. He greets your father, shaking his hand. Then he’s helping you move bags, the three of you working in an odd harmony. Once everything was loaded, and your father nods goodbye as he climbs into the cabin. You allow yourself to feel the first itches of happiness, of joy. “Goodbye Father” you say, waving as you watch the coachman push forward the horses, the carriage slowly inching away from you. Taehyung and yourself stand and watch as the carriage disappears into the distance, you wait for a while, to make sure he won’t turn around again. Once you’re sure he’s not coming back, you turn to Taehyung and smile.

There's a small grin settled on his lips, as if he is holding back a huge smile. He tilts his head at you before glancing at the house. As you turn to look at your home, with your attention away from him, he sees an opening and you squeal as he sweeps you up from the ground. Carrying you along to your door with one arm under your knees and the other under your back. You giggle as he leads you up to your home. “Show me your art again.” he asks. Unlike before, you're happy to comply. You had wanted to show him for so long. He drops you to your feet at the bottom of the stairs and you race him to the top, a race he could have easily won, but he stays behind you to catch you if you fell, or to humor your childish side that would only be happy when you won. At the top he glances down once to your heaving chest, spreading a blush across your cheeks, before allowing you to take his hand and lead you towards your chamber. Your art had improved a lot since he had last seen it. Trading in the majority of your landscape art for pictures of the most important thing in your life at the moment. Him:

Taehyung stood outside the house, his back lent against a pillar as he pulled smoke from a pipe.

Taehyung’s hand in yours, something that had taken you ages to master.

Taehyung with his head tilted to the side in anger as he slides a book back towards the owner.

Taehyung walking through the fields, holding one of your new parasols in his hand as the rain falls around him.

Nearly every painting had a connection to him, he stands open mouthed at your door, his eyes flicking between the paintings and you.

Just over a month ago, you had realised that you had loved Taehyung. At first you panicked, and didn't see him for days. Love was for people who were married, love outside of marriage was a sin, that's what you had thought anyway. But you grew to not care. Marriage or not, you loved him, and there was no undoing that. You hoped that today that same love would get across through your art. Every moment you spent painting him had been the epitome of your love for him. But now, as he stands there with an open mouth you wonder if this is perhaps a little weird, this surely wasn’t a normal thing to do, maybe he had taken it the wrong way. Perhaps he saw you as mad.

“You make a good model” you say, hoping to break through the silence. Luckily, he laughs, turning to you and grabbing your hand. You relax, he wasn’t mad. He wasn’t about to call you a fool and storm from your house. To your surprise, he leads you to your desk, sitting you down on your wooden chair and crouching on the floor between your legs, he's staring up at you and you find yourself blushing.

“Taehyung?” you whisper, hoping for an answer to this uncharacteristic behavior.

“What does all of this mean Y/N” he asks, and your stomach drops, this suddenly feels like an interrogation. You gulp, hoping some divine being will answer this for you. You realise you’ve been sitting in silence for a long time when you speak.

“Um, well, they are paintings of you.” you close your eyes, hoping the confession will be easier without looking at him. “And I painted them because you mean a lot to me.”

You open your eyes again. “Is that all?” he asks. His head tilted to the side as it did when he was both confused and angry.

You knew that this thing that you had with Taehyung was not eternal. The only thing that made something like this eternal was marriage, and considering he hadn’t settled down, and he was already 28, you doubted that it was on the cards for him at all. What makes you say the next thing, you are not sure. Perhaps it was the years spent in your manor, like Rapunzel, and it was Taehyung that had saved you, a knight in shining armor. Perhaps it was how you were sure that Taehyung already knew. But whatever it was, the words fell from your lips like they were meant to be. “Because I love you.”

Time and space freeze around the two of you. For a moment, you think Taehyung will get up and leave, he twitches as if holding back from doing that very thing. “It's okay if you need to go.” You say, trying to feign understanding instead of feeling complete disappointment, you lace your hand through his hair, letting the soft strands fall through your fingers like waves. It's an oddly intimate moment, with that confession hanging between the two of you, your promise that he could go, yet you're holding him down by touching him. He buries his face into your dress, it's an odd action that makes you freeze up, in doing this he has obscured his face from your eyes. “Taehyung?” you murmur, hoping for at least a response to your confession, was he staying or going?

Your shoes are being slipped off before you have the chance to even say anything, then Taehyung appears from the folds of your dress with a gummy smile on his face. All you can do is say his name again in confusion. Both shoes are placed slightly away from you on the floor, Taehyung had brought those for you, much to your displeasure. You had never wanted to abuse his kindness. He doesn’t reply to his name, in fact, you’re sure you're staring at a man you had never met before, he had never done anything like this. His hands run up from your feet, up your stocking covered calf. His arm was completely under your dress, fingers playing with the clasp of your stockings just above your knee. All of this, and he's staring directly at your face, watching every reaction that you make. He’s so close to you, the warm skin of his hand against your bare thighs has a feeling starting up in your lower stomach that almost makes you want to pee. You had felt like this around him before, when you were kissing, but never to this extent. Thinking that there's something wrong with you, you try to slide away on the chair, but Taehyung's finger is wrapped around your stockings and you can’t move.

“What is it?” he says, genuine concern plastering his face, it’s the first thing he's spoken to you since you said it.

“Feel like I need to use the bathroom” you say with a blush so profound that it feels like it covers your whole face. Instead of moving away from you and letting you use the toilet, Taehyung only smiles, a comforting light shining in his eyes.

“You don’t need the bathroom, your body is reacting to me.” he says, and it's the most scandalous thing you've heard him say. You’d spent all these months wondering what came beyond a kiss, and your body had known all this time. “Are you okay?”

“Yes” you breathe. The air around you lit by the morning sun lights up every small, beautiful, feature of Taehyung like the mole on the end of his nose, and the one on the right side of his lower lip. This is a moment you would paint. His hands rolling down one of your stockings, placing the delicate material to the side as he placed kisses to the inside of your legs, running his hands up and down your soft skin. You felt like you had ascended into another world.

“Tell me if you need me to stop” he says, hooking his finger around your other stocking, and as he pulls it down your leg, peppering kisses as he goes you say,

“No. Don’t. Never stop” which seems to spark something in his eyes. Something untamable, and this time he chucks your stockings behind his head instead of placing them lightly to the side. You watch them as they fall on the side of one of your paintings, the stocking soaking up and blurring the fresh paint. You couldn’t bring yourself to care. In fact, you wanted Taehyung to ruin everything about you, and paint it fresh. Only him.

With your dress above your knees, Taehyung has one of your legs flung over one of his shoulders. Constantly kneading the flesh of your calf. Then, he's stepping back, standing above you as you fight to regain the breathing you didn't realise you lost. He stands there for a moment, just watching your chest heave against the confinements of your corset. "Do you wish to keep going?" He asks.

"Yes, please" you say, reaching a hand up to him. He takes it, the rustling of your dress the only sound as he pulls you from the chair. He pulls you onto his lips, his mouth catching yours easily, he does what he always does, putting a hand on your waist, holding you close to him as all the blood in your body rushes to your lower stomach. Then he's walking you backwards, weaving you through all your paint points and paintings. There's a humorous side to it that has you smiling into the kiss. You weren't sure where he was taking you, but you let him take you there. When your legs hit the cold metal of the side of your bed, you tense a little. Taehyung pulls away from the kiss, placing a light kiss to your forehead, but he keeps you close, both arms around you, smiling down at you.

"Do you know where this is going?" He asks. playing with the laces at the back of your dress.

"No," you say. You had very little idea of the adult world, you'd read a book once 'A maiden's guide to marriage.' you assumed it had been your mother's before she married your dad. Sex. But you had assumed that was something only married people could do. 'Sex outside of matrimony is a sin" the book had read. "Is it a sin?" You ask, looking up at him with wide eyes.

"Are you calling me a sinner?" He asks, returning that same open eyed vulnerability to you. Alongside it is a playful smile, one that has you smiling back.

"Perhaps" you say. Smiling.

"Normally this is reserved for marriage" he says, tilting his head.

"I know" you breathe as he begins to pull at the laces of your dress.

"Okay" he breathes, he leans down, going for a kiss, but instead of your lips he kisses your neck and all you can do is whine. You had never made such a noise before in your life. Tangling in the delicate laces, his fingers undo your dress, you suddenly feel the weight of this situation.

"Will I be ruined?" you whisper, as he sucks at your neck. Though he pulls away from you to reply, a frown seated on his lips.

"Maybe, in the prying eyes of society. Yes." at his words, you feel your mouth flatten into a frown.

"Will you see me as ruined?" you ask.

"No. Never." He's holding the side of your face, peppering kisses on your hairline. His other hand stays behind your back, holding your dress together. "We don't have to do anything" he reminds you, nothing but sincerity in his eyes. You remember what you had thought earlier, that you wanted Taehyung to ruin every single part of you. You had meant that,

"I want to do this" you say, staring into the delicious deep brown of his eyes. "With you." Your voice is sure, you're confident you'll be fine. All that matters is Taehyung stays with you even after, and you know he will, maybe not in marriage but always in friendship.

"I'm going to let go of this now." he says, giving a light tug on the laces of the dress that he's holding up to indicate what he's talking about. Just before he does he tells you "I'm going to talk you through every step of this, so you know if you need to tell me to stop."

You manage to murmur an "Okay" before your dress is released. It falls, pooling around your waist. Left exposed to the eyes of Taehyung and the cool air, your skin rises into little bumps. The intricate details of your corset is what holds your breasts into place as Taehyung does nothing but stare at you. "Taehyung?" you whisper, hoping to distract him from you.

"Mmmh" he replies, looking up at your eyes. "What's wrong?"

"You were staring" you reply, the need to pull away from him and fold into yourself is overwhelming.

"Because you're so beautiful" he smiles back, bunching your dress up in his hands, as if to pull it over your head. "Could stare at you for hours, I'm going to pull this over your head now, okay?"

You think you murmur okay, but everything seems a little blurry to you. Either way, you allow him to pull your dress over your head, raising your arms to help him get easier access. “See,” he begins “Absolutely beautiful.” he leans down, pressing a kiss to each side of your chest, all whilst maintaining eye contact with you. He folds up your dress carefully, placing it on the back of your wooden chair. It was the first dress he had brought you, the same day as the man at the bookshop spat in your face for being a woman. It was difficult being a woman, you had known that before Taehyung, but that day had solidified it for you. Taehyung kisses you on the forehead. “Now for these.”

He kisses you on the neck, sucking harsh marks onto your skin, whilst pulling at the laces of your undergarments. “If you need me to stop-”

“No, don’t stop,” you say. He smiles before doing as you requested and not stopping, he pulls down your undergarments, hardly even looking at you below the waist despite being completely bare to him, then he’s onto your corset, untying the the bow quickly, delicately pulling apart the laces and slipping it over your head. You cover your breasts on instinct, once he’s placed your corset gently to the side, he stares at you with such softness in his eyes, such kindness, that when he reaches up to pull your hands away, you let him. He stares at you for a moment, you wonder if he notices that one seems ever so slightly bigger than the other. You wonder if he’s judging you.

You were unsure if this was how it worked, you being completely bare and him being completely clothed, but Taehyung didn’t seem to care either way. He mumbles something you don’t catch, before practically headbutting your left breast, causing you to cry out as he sucks at one of your nipples. He has his hands on your bum cheeks, holding you in place as he pulls at your nipples with his teeth, your head thrown back in pleasure, you had never felt anything like this in your life.

“Oh my goodness” you breathe, your hands felt empty, so you threaded them through Taehyung's hair. He switches nipples, the sensation remains painful but you feel like you’re floating on a cloud. Some instinct takes over you, knowing that this can’t go any further if Taehyung remains completely clothed, you begin to fiddle with the top buttons of his shirt, hoping that they’d pop open. He whines as your fingers brush his skin, it’s as if your touch distracts him away from your breasts as he pulls away and helps you unbutton his shirt. He’s breathing heavily, chest heaving up and down under your palms, and so are you as you see his skin, touch his skin. His chest is soft to the touch, his stomach smooth under your hands. His shirt joins your dress on the other side of the room, all you can do is stare at him, at the way he’s shaped, how smooth he looks. You run your hands up and down his body, even when he’s leading you backwards on the bed, until your back touches the neatly organised sheets. He hovers over you, his knee slotted in between your thighs, the fabric from his trousers rubs blissfully against your naked centre.

“Are you okay?” he asks, when you nod eagerly he smiles. “I wanna go down on you, but we’ll save that for another time”

“Down on-?” you begin, confused at this new term.

“I’ll explain it another time. Can you open your legs?” you do as you’re instructed, the new phrase being quickly forgotten as he stands up, looking down at you wide open for him. Taehyung reaches down, grabbing your hand lightly. You think he’s going to kiss it, like they do at balls and dances, but instead he leads it down your body, resting it atop the small mound of hair above your area. “Can you touch yourself? Need to make sure you’re super prepped and comfortable.”

With the way he talks, the surety that you know what you're doing, you’re almost embarrassed to say that you didn’t know what that was, you had never touched yourself in your life, only in the bath, and that had only been to clean. With the painting of confusion sketched into your features, Taehyung’s mouth falls to the side. You feel wrong, as if you had missed out on something important in your life. “I am sorry” you apologise, feeling guilty for your naivety.

He doesn’t respond, instead he starts undoing the laces of his trousers, pulling them down over his legs and kicking them to the side, leaving him in just his undergarments, you almost wish he had taken them off too. Then he drops to his knees, his face level with your intimate area. You can feel his breath against your skin. “What do you know about being a woman?” he asks. When you reply with,

“Not much”

He kisses the inside of your thigh. “Place your hand here.” he says, indicating for you to put your palm on your mound of hair, and you do. “Use your middle finger to rub this spot. I am going to touch you.” When you don’t stop him, he reaches up between your legs and presses his finger straight on what seemed to be a ball of nerves, for you’re almost shooting up the bed with the sudden shocking pleasure of it. “This is your clitoris,” he says. “It makes you feel good.”

You do as you’re told, using your finger to lightly rub around the clitoris, it felt so good, you could see what Taehyung meant. Whilst you circle this new discovery, Taehyung stands up again, watching your hand as he undoes the final laces of his undergarments. You wanted to throw your head back, but you also wanted to watch him. This part, you had been expecting. Somehow, as you had grown up, regardless if it had it been from the animals that surrounded you on the farms or just some kind of knowledge that everyone was born with, but you knew that that was a penis, and in that moment you knew that it was to go inside of you. Taehyung's penis, was beautiful, and had you ever seen another penis in your life, before or after this moment, you know it could not have been compared to Taehyungs. It was quite big, and you wondered what part of you could accommodate such a thing as that, it was also hard, erect, pressing against his stomach like something or someone had angered it. You’re sure your mouth falls open with shock. You don’t miss the smug smile that adorns his lips, this was something he was proud of. You could see why.

You feel so safe with him, so at home, that when he runs a finger through the folds of skin just below your clit, you only revel in the feeling of his skin on yours, the shock of pleasure it sends up your core. He mutters something about being “wet” before climbing back on top of you, moving your hand away from your clit at the same time. “Are you ready?” he asks. You nod your head, but before he does anything he leans down, connecting your lips. The two of you stay like that for a while, Taehyung relaxes his arms that were holding him up from touching your body. He’s pressed against you entirely, his shaft pressing into your thigh. You had never been close to someone so emotionally as this. You feel so safe, so loved, you almost cry. This is where you wanted to be for eternity, between Taehyung and bedsheets. When he pulls away from the kiss, his eyes are dilated, wide as if he was holding something feral back, he hides the animalistic look from his eyes by leaning down to kiss your neck.

When he pulls away again, leaving angry welts on your neck, his eyes are soft again. “Are you okay?” you ask him, running your hands up and down his arms.

“Yeah, are you?” he asks.

“Yeah. I am good.” you reply, the two of you smiling.

“It might hurt, we don’t have to do this, if you’re not ready.” he presses a kiss to your forehead.

“I am ready. I trust you.”

“Okay” he breathes, as he presses up to your center. “I am going to push my cock in now.”

Cock. That was another new one. You don’t have long to think about it as he pushes his cock against your entrance. It takes him a considerable deal of effort to even push past an inch of you, but he stops, letting you adjust to the intrusion and the feeling of him inside of you.

This was either hell, indicated by the pain this brought. Or heaven, due to the sparks you felt coming from your core, the warmth spreading along every bone in your body. Probably hell you think, this was a sin. Taehyung watches every breath you make, every look on your face as he pushes in another inch. Tears prick into your eyes here, but Taehyung kisses them away, his heart-shaped lips wet from the moisture of your eyes. “Just breathe,” he suggests. You had stopped breathing at some point, holding your breath in pain, but when you breathe again, steadily and heavily, the pain wears off.

“I am okay,” you smile up at him. And in the attempts to make a joke, you say “Push your cock in more.”

“Don’t say that again” he replies, muttering something about “innocence” before doing as you instructed anyways, pushing himself in another inch. He does this a couple more times until your pubic bones are flush against each other and you can feel him so deep into your stomach it's impossible to think of anything else beyond him, beyond how good you felt. There was pain there, waiting to flare up, waiting to protrude over the pleasure, but for the moment all you felt was a tightening pressure in your core. Taehyung spends this time running his lips up and down your skin, kissing over your scrunched up eyes, and asking you every couple of seconds if you were okay, each time you replied with a breathless yes.

He pulls out, glancing down at his slick covered cock, before starting the process all over again, this time faster. The pain flares and dwindles again, like a flame.

Again, he pulls out, pushes in, slowly.

Pulls out, pushes in.

Until he’s not pulling out completely, his movements fluid, like the brook between your houses as he transitions from pushing to pulling. The pain was non-existent now. With your eyes rolled back into your head, and your hands gripping onto his arms, your nails scratching down his back, you never want this to end. “Feels so good” you manage to say, your breath caught on each push in of his cock.

“It’s only me that can make you feel like this” he tells you, he looks half out of it now, his eyes distant but still loving. “Only me.”

“Only you.” There's a surge of pressure in your stomach, a building power that you were almost too scared to let free. Somehow, your body seems to communicate this to Taehyung.

“Don’t look so scared, it's an orgasm, it’ll feel amazing.” he moans a little before speaking again. “Let it go.”

You do. Obeying him. White light blinds you, but you can still see Taehyung moving in and out of your vision with every thrust. It's like nothing you’ve ever experienced before, nothing you will experience again unless it was with Taehyung. It’s like jumping off a cliff, enjoying the view as you fall, like a brutal ending, or a happy one. This was a fairytale, a fantasy you hadn’t known you were waiting for. The bliss of feeling so full of him, so consumed by him. You never wanted this to end, you wanted him to be inside of you forever, he fitted so well. Through your orgasm he sucks on the flesh around your nipples again, leaving red marks over your upper body. You never wanted these marks to leave, you wanted them to be an eternal product of your love for Taehyung. You are completely out of it for a moment, but when you return to clarity, even with all your limbs tingling, the sensation of Taehyung's thrusting seems to have increased tenfold, it hurts in a beautiful way.

He smiles at you, it's a soft smile, before wincing in pleasure and thrusting faster, already you can feel another pressure in your lower stomach. “I'm close,” he mumbles, bringing one of his hands down to press onto your clit.

***

Taehyung couldn’t think. Couldn’t think beyond how good this felt, how close he was and how desperately he wanted to bring you along with him for a second time. Your face when you had orgasmed the first time was unforgettable, he had never heard someone moan so loudly in his life, face scrunched up in that tumbling feeling of pleasure. He had done that to you, and he was damned for being proud. No one would ever get this experience of you again, he knew that, could see the future now. So he sucked at your breasts again, marking you as his for everyone else to see.

The second he touched your clit he knew you were close again, tightening around him like a vice. “Together” he manages to say, refraining from going too fast and hurting you. When he orgasms, his essence shooting into you with each sloppy thrust, he contemplates the use of his seed, beyond pleasure. As he watches you writhe under him, twisting and turning in the sheets as you orgasm again, shocked with the feeling of his cum inside of you, he’s shocked to realise he wants to get you pregnant. Wants to see your stomach rounded with the product of this, have versions of you and him running around in his life. He had never wanted this before, been too scared to have this before. Tears well up in the corner of his eyes, tears that you brush away as they fall down his cheeks and he goes soft inside of you. He should be embarrassed, men shouldn’t cry. But you didn’t judge him, he felt safe.

Damn the knees and the rings. He thinks as he falls against you, smothering you in his weight, but remaining inside of you, plugging his seed into you until it could take root. He tries to speak, but it comes out inaudible, something like “mazer ze.”

Which only makes you laugh. “Sorry?” you ask, a massive smile on your face.

This time, his words came out right. “Marry me.”

Your smile drops, eyes going wide. “My father-”

“Don’t think of him, we’ll find a way around him, only think of me.”

#country house setting #kim taehyung #kim taehyung smut #taehyung #taehyung smut #bangtan #bangtan sonyeondan #bts smut #bts #bts fanfiction #bts fic #kth smut #BTS KTH

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c-h-e-r-r-i-e-s · 7 months

Text

Choso Drabble

I started writing and my rat brain took over again.

Also fyi I have socks I bought myself forever ago with rats on them lol I’ve been wearing them a lot recently.

Anyway here’s the Choso crumb, it’s just smut. Might be writing a blood thing soon? Idk if anyone has any ideas let me know!

Choso is leaning over you, one hand holding him up. His muscles glistening from the sheen of sweat now coating you both. The other holds his dick against your stomach.

“Just the tip baby please” he begs in a low voice. It’s not that you didn’t want to it’s just so taboo. He’s been your best friend for so long. But something finally snapped earlier. Moving out at 24 finally let you have privacy. And Choso leaned in to kiss your cheek but you turned to catch his lips. He panicked and you just held his lips with yours until he decided if he was going to kiss you back.

Now you’re both naked on the bed in your room. Mustard yellow sheets beneath you being gripped by your fists. Choso has his dick pressed between your folds rutting against the wetness.

“Are you sure we can still be friends if we.. do this” you gesture between the two of you. He nods and looks at where he’s touching you. His tip just barely pressing into you. “Please” he repeats.

You nod confirmation saying “just the tip”

He presses the head slowly so slowly into you. Feeling your entrance glide over the ridge of his length he pulled back out. Moving slightly faster he plunges his tip in a few times. Just allowing the tip in feels like heaven for him. Both of you moaning at the feeling.

“Maybe a little more?” You prod him. He wastes no time pressing into you. Feeling the stretch as he painfully slowly presses his full length into you. A breathy moan leaving your mouth as he bottoms out.

“Fuck you feel so good. I - need - need more” your legs meet his ass coaxing him to press as close as possible. Your clit firmly pressed against his pubic bone. “Please Choso i - fuck- make me stupid please”

So he does, pressing himself inside you fully a few times before folding your knees close to your chest. His thumbs press into the plush of your thighs, hard enough to bruise later. His hips rock and slap against you.

“Oh god” your voice is strained and music to Choso’s ears. “Yes baby doing so good” he responds breathily. Panting and scratching your way to an orgasm he fucks You stupid. And then he fucks himself stupid. Babbling soft pleas and rubbing his skin against you.

Again and again he fucks into you. His dark baby hairs stick to his face. Completely concentrated on getting another orgasm out of you his eyebrows knit together and his jaw goes slack.

“So pretty like this baby- fuck” you finally come a second time after teases to your clit and the pounding he just laid on you. If you were a cartoon there would be little stars dancing around both your heads popping like bubbles.

He lays back and your knees drop apart. Throbbing and hot the fan cools your pussy. But Choso isn’t letting up. He licks a finger and plays with your clit.

Slowly at first his index finger plays with your bud. Languidly he rubs against your slit and entrance. Hearing the gushing sound makes him dazed. He sinks one finger just a fingernail deep into you. Playing and toying with the wetness still there.

“So much for just the tip huh?” You tease.

“Yeah” he chuckles dryly.

“Will you use your tongue next?” You ask so politely. He seductively moves to press kisses to your thighs. Not even deeming your question worth answering with words, only actions.

His tongue swirls around your entrance messily. Holding you down with an arm framed over your waist, he goes at your center fervently. Pushing around his tongue and slipping fingers in were needed to bring you almost to your climax again. Stopping just short of the bliss he pops the tip of his dick in you again. Just the tip and he fucks you like that until you come. And once you do he fucks into you again. Reaching his own release that had been neglected.

“Choso you’re never getting rid of me you know that right?”

He just laughs and nods, pulling you into a soft embrace. Sweaty and panting he still clings to you. Lacing his fingers with yours he promises that he doesn’t want you to leave him ever either.

#jjk #jujutsu kaisen #choso kamo #jjk choso #choso x reader #choso x female reader #jjk x reader #choso x you

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theemporium · 1 year

Note

Can you write something where reader is overworked and Steve finds her asleep among the books? Idk just seemed cute...

this is the most self-projecting thing i have ever written bwdjkdjbewkb ANYWAYS

It was a lot.

You always knew it would be a lot but this was just beyond anything you had ever expected, or maybe you just weren’t prepared for it. Maybe you weren’t cut out for college and all the assignments and classes and work. Maybe you were in over your head.

You knew pretty early on you wanted to go to college. You wanted to be the first person in your family to go into further education. You wanted a degree with your name and achievements on it. It was all you had ever really expected from yourself.

You set the standard and now you were struggling to meet it.

The jump from high school to college was no joke but you thought you were coping. And for a while, you were. You were staying on top of assignments, you had a planner to help you remember classes and deadlines, and you were balancing a social life pretty damn well.

But then you missed a class.

And then you missed two.

And the next thing you knew, you were drowning in essays and presentations and modules and you couldn’t take it. You could barely handle the limited social interactions that attending class required alone, let alone everything else on top.

But you were stubborn and you didn’t want to burden anyone, and you kept it all in. You put a smile on your face, gave your cookie-cutter answers when someone asked how college was going and only allowed yourself to break down behind closed doors.

Steve knew you better than you knew yourself, and he knew just how much pressure you put on yourself.

He could see it on your face as the weeks went by, the way you would dissociate in large groups of people or the way you would always be picking at your nail beds when you were away from your books too long, like it was killing you inside to be wasting time anywhere but your desk.

But he was a patient man, and he cared about you a lot so he waited. He waited for you to say something. He waited for you to open up to him.

You never did, though. And he had a pretty good idea why.

It broke his heart to see the girl he loved slowly kill herself with stress and anxiety, and it killed him to know he couldn’t do anything beyond reminding you to eat three meals a day and stay hydrated.

He hated that you couldn’t see the girl he saw. When you saw flaws and mistakes, he just saw you.

You, as a whole. You, as one of the most determined people he has ever met. You, as the girl who was worth so much more than she assumed.

It was how he found himself at your doorstep, fist raised to knock on the door as he waited for you to answer. Thursdays had always been your date night—both because it was the one day you didn’t have any classes and Steve’s guaranteed day off from Family Video after cutting a deal with Robin.

When you didn’t answer after a minute, Steve was worried.

When you didn’t answer after five minutes, Steve was really concerned.

It barely broke into the sixth minute before he was using his spare key and letting himself in.

But the thumping of his racing heart quickly calmed down when he burst through the door as saw your head laid on the desk, a variety of open books scattered across the surface and a pen laying next to your now limp hand.

He paused, a soft smile on his face as he took in the sight of how peaceful you looked. No worry lines or furrowed brows, no biting your lips or chewing on the inside of your cheek.

Just you finally catching a break.

And then his heart twinged with guilt and concern when he realised this was probably the first break you gave yourself, and it wasn’t willingly. You had probably exhausted yourself—Steve knew how unreliable your sleep schedule was when you were stressed—and he hated that it reached the point of you passing out on your books to get you to take a break.

As softly as he could, he shrugged off his jacket and shoes before he made his way over to you, knowing he hated that he had to wake you up but hated even more the idea of you sleeping in such an awkward position and hurting your back.

“Sweetheart,” he called out softly, his thumb gently pushing some hair out of your face and tucking it behind your ear. “C’mon, baby.”

You let out a small whine, your nose scrunching up.

“I know, baby, I know,” he cooed softly as his thumb skimmed across your cheek in slow strokes.

“Steve?” you murmured, still half-asleep and almost convinced you had conjured an image of your boyfriend.

“I’m sorry for waking you up, pretty girl,” he spoke just above a whisper, his eyes taking in the sight of the bags under your eyes and his guilt grew tenfold. “Oh baby, when was the last time you slept?”

Your head still felt a little fuzzy as you sat up in your chair, eyebrows furrowed together as you tried to grasp the reality of the world around you. “Uh, Sunday?”

Steve frowned. “Baby, what day do you think it is?”

“Monday?”

Steve’s face softened immediately and the boy wasted no time in taking your face in his hands, a soft kiss pressed on your forehead that made you close your eyes to enjoy the embrace.

“C’mon, we are getting you to bed,” he whispered against your skin, and almost instantly he felt your body tense. He knew exactly where this was going, the words that were about to leave your lips and he refused to let you push yourself any further than you already had.

“Steve–”

“Nope, come on now,” he said as he pulled you up from your seat, his hands wrapping around your body and holding you close to him before you could wiggle out of his grasp. “It’s my week to choose a date and I am choosing a nap.”

Your face fell and he could see the guilt in your eyes. “It’s Thursday?”

“Yeah, baby,” he murmured softly, one hand catching your face before you could turn away. “Hey, listen, it’s okay. We all forget sometimes.”

“I just—” you let out a staggered breath. “I was working on my assignment for that stupid history class and then I forgot I had a presentation in my Spanish class and I swore it was only Tuesday, at least and—”

“Hey, baby, breathe f’me,” he murmured as he held your face in his hands. “It’s okay, I get it. I do. But baby, you gotta give yourself a break or you’re gonna kill yourself.”

You sighed, leaning into his touch. “Steve, I can’t—”

“You can and you will,” Steve stated and gave you a firm look. “This isn't doing you any good. You need to rest that big brain of yours.”

Your lips twitched upwards. “I just don’t know how to handle it all.”

“We’ll work it out together, okay? After a nap though,” he murmured and pressed another kiss to the top of your head. “I miss sleeping with my pretty girl in my arms.”

He was thoroughly amused to see the way your cheeks burned up at his words.

“Yeah, I guess I missed your hugs too.”

“Damn right you did,” Steve grinned proudly. “I’m your best pillow.”

You let out a small snort, the sound soothing something in his chest that didn’t make him feel like a fist was clenching his heart.

“We can even order from that Mexican place in town when we wake up.”

“Really?”

“Really, now get that cute ass on the bed now, baby.”

#steve harrington #stranger things #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington fic #steve harrington one shot #stranger things x reader #stranger things x you #stranger things x y/n #stranger things fic #stranger things one shot

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gothushi · 2 months

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thinking about Seb lashing out not being able to control himself he would totally leave tones of scratches and bitemarks

collar him

i literally just woke up from a nap and have to answer this my jaws on the floor. cw collaring, mild breath play if ur squinting, marks

maybe something happened with his guardian (still don’t know if i headcanon him being with his own family or possibly a foster family or another relative/someone who adopted him. idk idk details shmetails) so maybe he’s just like. overstimulated. pissed off. every single thing makes him upset or angry. but he’s come over because he promised he would and you two were gonna watch a movie and spend time together.

one thing leads to another and you’re making out on the couch, he’s pawing at you, desperate to release his pent up energy from an entire days worth of anger and frustration. cut to him laid back, you’re ontop, grinding down onto him slow and teasing and he’s just so… upset.. he needs more, needs to take and take, needs these feelings to get out before he just absolutely blows up like a bomb. so suddenly, his frame is over yours, pinning you to the couch, your legs around his waist, and he goes feral. im talking hips slamming into yours, jostling your entire body up, his hands on your shoulders and dragging over your back and arms, nails digging into your skin, all the while he’s buried his head in your neck, biting at the junction of shoulder and neck hard, so fucking hard that my god it really hurts? is he drawing blood? (you consider stopping him, already having said plenty “seb–! hey!” “slow down– seb, fuck slow down” “sebastion” grabbing at his hair, pushing at his shoulders, it doesn’t work. but you let him do what he must because yes it hurts but it isn’t past your limits) he’s panting through his teeth, sobbing tears of frustration as he takes takes takes, fucks like some wild, rabid animal until he cums. he doesn’t even know if you’ve cum too but that’s the least of your worries as he collapses onto you, crying, panting, and you pet over his hair like you’re comforting a stray cat, gentle, soft, careful.

cue clean up, your back is fucked. red scratches from his dull nails go from shoulder blade to just above your ass. some even go from shoulder down your biceps, and the left side of your neck is ravaged. a deep bite mark is on the junction where he stayed for the most part, small little cuts from his teeth, but also a cluster of hickies and more faint little teeth marks littered down your shoulder. he sobs again, cries, says he’s sorry, he doesn’t know what happened, he feels so ashamed and is horrified you’re going to leave him. but you tsk, try to ground him with a few ‘i love you’s and order him to clean your back for you and apply some cream to the scratches since you can’t reach. he does so, hand trembling all the while, and then you sit down with him to have a proper talk.

he doesn’t know what happened, doesn’t know why he just lost control. he says he was just so.. so mad all day, everything was going wrong, everyone was upsetting (save for you). you have a healthy talk with him, telling him he can’t always leave you like you’ve been mauled by an animal when he gets upset, nor can he turn to other things like breaking shit or yelling. you tell him that you’ll both figure something out, reassuring plenty that you aren’t angry with him and you aren’t leaving him. two days pass, you’ve come up with a solution the next time you hang out.

you present a little box to him, no bigger than his hands held out together. he’s confused. a gift? for him? he insists he doesn’t deserve anything but the constant sting when you move on your back serves to remind that yes, he does deserve this, and urge him to open the box. inside is a black leather collar, meant for a dog, silver buckle and one singular ring beside it, and a matching leash. he’s like.. “i don’t have a dog..” but his own puppy eyes say otherwise! you gently explain that it’s meant for him, for his neck, something to try that might be able to ground him, and he’d only wear it when at your apartment. it takes a second for the intentions to click in his brain, and his cheeks go red, “you.. you think that’d work?” he’s skeptical, but you remind him he doesn’t have to try it, you just thought it’d be a nice idea. so.. he agrees. he lets you buckle the collar on, enough to fit three fingers through comfortably, and oh.

oh.

his cock fucking aches. it hurts in his jeans. the constant pressure on his neck is just so good he can’t believe he’d never explored this. he’s laid with his head in your lap, watching a movie, trying not to squirm around. he feels he doesn’t deserve to fuck you again yet afterall.. but you notice. notice the color on his cheeks as you play with his hair, the way his thighs stay pressed together, the subtle shifts of his hips, the way he hasn’t really said a word about the show when usually he’s a little chatterbox critiquing or pointing things out.

cue fifteen minutes later, he’s sat back on the couch whilst you’re riding him. the pace is agonizingly slow, and he’s grunting and whining like crazy. you’ve clipped the leash on, but it’s slack right now. his punishment is to not touch you, he has to just take what you give. soon enough though (you knew this would happen) his hands fly to your hips, grasping, a shakey “please” escapes him. quickly, you’ve got your one hand on the back of the couch, leash in hand, and it tugs on the collar enough to yank his head back some. the most pathetic noise you’ve ever heard comes from his throat, brows furrowing up, lips parting as it’s just a bit harder to breathe. “behave.” you’ll groan, fucking yourself down a little bit faster when his hands leave your waist.

he cums twice that night, and next time he’s at home jerking off with you on the brain, his hand wanders up to his neck.

#AHHHHH IM CRAZY IM OBSESSED WITH HIM #HELLPPPP!!!!!#neil newbon #neil newbon x reader #seb as if #seb as if x reader

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velvetjune · 26 days

Text

All my thoughts on Alan Wake 2: The Final Draft below! Major Spoilers for the game (and Control 2019). This is a very long post, but this game has taken over my mind.

The Final Draft was good! I’ve never played NewGame+ versions of games before, so I don’t know if this is usually how it goes. The additional material and introduction/ending makes it all worth it, although I wish there was a way to speed up the case board process, since I completed almost all of it my first go.

My immediate concern is. What is ‘a master of many worlds’? What does that MEAN?? Surface level, he can already exert power over his world and the dark place, so that was the two he was initially referring to. Since Door said the Dark Place was a mirror that reflected other realities, is that why Alan now holds power of them? No matter what, he is Way too confident for someone who’s been an absolute mess. The power of being loved and reaching out to others is just that good.

I’ve vaguely known about this draft’s ending and I wasn’t sure how I felt about it. Actually playing through again helped me lose that negativity, although I still prefer the first ending! Hearing Saga’s relief at Logan being alive and Alan rising from the dead was one amazing sequence. Visually beautiful and acted out.

The EXPRESSION you can see on Saga the second Logan picks up. I was so happy for her. Having Logan and Casey by her side. No matter what comes next, they succeeded in saving both of them. Now—are Saga, Casey, and Alan all in the dark place? In an overlap? Or Bright Falls?

The “love is strange” quote was a personal favorite. Sometimes you love someone so much, both of you ascend past your humanly self and become so intertwined in thought and memory that you’re always with each other. Love is strange.

Is anyone else ridiculously nervous about what’ll happen with Alan and Alice?? They both seem to be in states that are tied to each other and the dark place. I don’t know if they can technically leave. Read some theories on Alice being the bullet of light, but I took it as a sort of symbolic gesture, with her still being an agent moving in the dark place. Similar to Zane or Darling. Idk.

The ‘Spiral’ writer’s room video got to me even more than the ending! Bringing up how time is overlapping, which means Alan IS already at the end of the spiral, as an enlightened figure, potentially “playing a secret game” or “building something”. There’s an inevitability to Alan’s fate that stresses me out. Describing himself as a demiurge or demon too,, somehow he made everything 10x more unsettling. So thanks for that Alan. Love it for the horror, but also I just want Alice and Alan to reunite with Barry… it’s not looking so good.

I was already a fan of the cliffhanger-ish ending, but, even after seeing this one with more confirmations, I don’t understand comments I’ve seen about having to play the Final Draft to get the actual/true ending. The first ending was emotionally satisfying and left a bigger impression imo. It was the turning point of this entire cycle Alan was stuck in and is what makes the Final Draft’s ending feel earned. It didn’t need confirmation on Logan answering back or Alan ascending because Alice’s post-credit video implied that was what would eventually happen. I still like this final draft’s ending, but I don’t think it’s to the detriment of the original playthrough and won’t hurt if anyone doesn’t end up playing through it (Kinda how I view AWAN too—although I haven’t finished it)

Dr. Darling my beloved. My everything. Remedy took their chance at making the funniest crossover. Alan repeating text over and over, being what’s keeping the dark place formed in its current shape—reminded me of the final nursery rhyme. This could’ve been creepier, but Darling’s reaction of “let’s not think too much about that” for the voice was golden. And what is there even to say about Zane and Darling. They got to flirt, so good for them. The ramifications of this could be dire or stay as some gag.

My conclusion on the situation with Alan, Zane, and Scratch is “I don’t think we’ll ever really know.” All the same person, but also every iteration is their own person. Their existences are too muddled and changed and distorted to ever find an origin or who made who.

I do find it fun that generally Zane IS helping Alan/Scratch and wanted to collaborate with Alan, and Scratch also wanted to become one with Alan, be the heart, bring an enteral deerfest that celebrates Alan. They’re both dangerous and/or manipulative, but it doesn’t seem to be out of hate.

My game had a bug where I could never talk with Odin and Tor apart from the mandatory scenes to move the game, so I missed everything near her trailer AND whatever they were standing around for in the Final Draft 😔

The Lake House page is making me excited for the DLC with the same name! Big fan of Remedy’s love for mad scientists and their death-by-hubris. Another Darling name drop that further shows how annoyed some FBC employees are at Darling’s golden boy reputation and his smug confidence. Incredible.

The Night Springs intro video!! Literally lays out what happens. Alan succeeds, transcends, and becomes a master of these realities he was inspired from. Interested in what this means for the Night Springs DLC. Will it make characters experience one of these other realities or will it remain grounded in the real world of Alan Wake 2?

I’m in love with how Alan Wake 2 repeatedly tells the player what the story and themes are, and outright says reveals and the ending before it plays out. The Yötön Yö song about Scratch, the Zane film of the same name spoiling “It’s not a loop it’s a spiral” and Alice+Alan in the Final Draft, this Night Springs intro confirming his success, all the nursery rhymes predicting Saga’s life, etc. Telling out what will happen through different mediums of art. It’s a clever way of making everything fit together and imply that Door, Zane, Alice, etc. aren’t as affected by the loop’s cycles restarting.

There’s mysteries that haven’t gotten answered at all. Nothing for Tim’s future and underlying connection to Door (I know it’s related to Quantum Break, but haven’t played). The 103 door a guest at the lodge kept banging and screaming at, which I think had the square looped symbol at the Oceanview Motel in Control. The employees door at Oh Deer Diner was always closed off.

Glad to have officially played through Alan Wake 2! Need that DLC trailer to drop soon

#alan wake 2 #final draft spoilers #alan wake 2 spoilers #I needed to put my mess of thoughts somewhere #this gameeeee #I don’t talk much about it either but this game is wonderful with its approach to mental health too.#Saga’s dark place in her mind is emotional every time. and seeing alan and saga work together. it’s 🩷💖💘

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soracities · 11 months

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hi! today the results of an extremely important examination (to me) was announced and uh, I came first in my country. I've worked so very hard for this and I effectively got into my dream college (there's another round left which is an interview but I've heard they're easy on you if you do well on the written test) but all I feel is empty inside, because I thought this would make me feel like I'm good enough, and it's not. do you have any poetry recs that can comfort me? or idk, just words of advice

(I'm sorry if this comes across as venting or ranting. please dont feel pressured to answer this ask)

i'm sorry to only get to this now, anon. i'm sorry for how much this feeling must have come out of nowhere for you, and i'm sorry too, that you're not able to fully enjoy the result of all your work in the way that you thought you would.

i can only speak from my own experience in this, so i don't know if it will speak to you, too but i hope you get something from it: i think sometimes, especially when it comes to academics, it can be very easy to internalise other people's expectations of us into our own: we make our goals in their image, which is not to say that these goals may not be important to us, but i think we build them on a kind of validation that is rooted in other people's opinions, and not so much our own. and when you finally get there the achievement is lacking because it was not entirely ours to begin with, if that makes sense? we've been more invested in others' hopes and taken those for our own.

this will depend on what's available to you and, again, i don't know how much help this will be (this is one of those things where i'm not sure if poems are something i can offer) but i think, if you have the time and are able to, then it may help to identify an activity that you have always wanted to do, or means a lot to you, and try your best to pursue this: it could be a hobby you have not picked up in a while, or a new one you've always wanted to experiment with, it could be volunteering with an organisation that is close to your heart, or maybe any organisation close to you that is in need of help (it could even be something in your dream college: a particular course or club, for example). the point is to find something--anything--that speaks to YOU, solely, to you, and to get involved in something that you have chosen for yourself, purely because it interested you. it's about building some kind of goal and going after that to allow you to feel some kind of achievement that has come on your terms and no one else's. i don't know if it will make what you feel right now go away, but i think it may help to alleviate the sadness surrounding it by allowing you to grow and develop and become a part of something for your own sake, and slowly build your own idea of who you are and who you can become.

again, i'm sorry this is late, and for whatever it's worth i'm amazed at you for being able to put so much work into something and reach such an achievement. it may not be making you feel the way you wanted to feel, but i believe that if you can so much effort into something like this, there's no limit to the countless other things awaiting you that WILL bring you joy and happiness when you choose them for yourself, however this may be 💕

#ask #anonymous #notes from elsewhere

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gutouhua · 2 years

Text

𝐭𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐝, 𝐬𝐡𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐞 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫'𝐬 𝐛𝐫𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐯

title. tamed (shrine master’s bride part v) [on ao3]

rating. explicit

pairing. sukuna x f. reader

wc. 8.6k+

tags. low self-worth & self-esteem, mentions of ownership, sukuna has monster-like features (like elongated canines), eating fish, sukuna thinks about eating out reader, physical abuse to reader (not by sukuna), no beta we die like rex lapis

a/n. um idk how to feel about this ch but here it is ;-; can you tell i hate writing action scenes since i literally skipped over the action lmao. but omg thank y'all for hanging on & sorry i couldn't update earlier sldkfjskdf i had writer's block but hope this longer chapter makes up for it! no smut but next ch will feature face-sitting :D

“Do you think she knows?” A servant whispered to another. He trimmed the bushes lining the pathway to the main entrance of the Shirogane family’s residence with his back slightly turned so that his voice wouldn’t reach too far. There were eyes and ears everywhere so it never hurt to be too careful.

“Probably not.” The other replied, stopping momentarily to lean closer, his tone conspiratorial. “It’d be quite obvious if she knew…she’d be throwing a fit and whatnot, making her unhappiness known to everyone. It’s a good thing she doesn’t know otherwise we’d all be suffering and–”

“What are you whispering about?”

The two servants suddenly jumped at the sound of the Shirogane family’s prized daughter and immediately bowed their heads low in practiced prostration in hopes of appeasing her. But she would not be so easily tempered – she was used to bows like that, courtesy and respect weren’t given to her, it was owed to her. She didn’t give them permission to get up, so they stayed as they were, not daring to move or so much as utter a sound until she said something.

Hikaru had gloved hands crossed over her chest, fingers tapping impatiently against an arm. Trailing behind her was her poor maid, heaving and lagging behind her master with arms full of large, fancy boxes and decorated bags. Hikaru had probably just returned from a shopping trip in the city.

“Well?” she said, expectantly.

Neither of the servants bothered pointing out that they didn’t dare say anything since she hadn’t explicitly asked them because answering her prematurely could very well be a death sentence. Servants were reliant on the whims of their masters, and Hikaru was not a kind one.

“Are you going to tell me? Or shall I have the two of you strung up and inject mercury into your veins until you say something?”

They shuddered and fought the urge to cry out. Tales of the infamous torture technique of the Shirogane family were well known throughout the lands. It was a cruel method, one that slowly replaced every drop of blood in your veins with the silver mercury of the Shirogane family until nothing but mercury flowed through your body and your flesh bled pure silver.

One servant spoke hesitantly while the two kept themselves in prostrated positions. “We were…just wondering if my lady had heard that with my lady’s upcoming pre-nuptial celebration with Kamo Masaru that–”

“Well of course I know that,” she snapped, tapping her heels impatiently on the immaculately laid out stone path. “Tell me something I don’t know, or is that too much thinking for lowlifes like you? Too dumb and stupid to do anything except listen to your masters.” she sneered.

“Ah yes!” The servant squeaked, thin frame trembling like a leaf in the wind. “We were simply unsure if you heard that your cousin–”

“What about my cousin?” she interrupted again, staring hard at the cowering servant.

“That your cousin was going to come…” he finished lamely.

Hikaru was silent for a moment, long enough for the servants to sneak a peek at her before averting their gaze yet again when she screeched out a reply. “She’s coming? But that’s impossible! She can’t come because she should’ve–” Been killed or eaten or whatever by that monster! How was it possible that you were still alive, and not just alive, but well enough to return to the family home? It was impossible. Unbelievable. Hikaru wouldn’t believe anything about you until she heard from her grandmother.

Without even looking to see if her servant was following, she stormed through the main entrance in a hurry, disappearing in a flurry of voluminous skirts and ribbons and laces. The two servants who were trimming the bushes earlier cast Hikaru’s servant a sympathetic glance, but it was ultimately lost on her since she could hardly see atop her towering tower of boxes.

When they’d both left, the two servants turned towards each other and said the same thing to each other.

Fuck.

Hikaru stormed through the hallways, anger in every thunderous step she took. Any servant or Shirogane family member who saw her knew to flee as soon as they heard and saw the fury on her face.

Hikaru needed answers. And she needed them now.

“Grandmother! Grandmother! Where are you?”

Shirogane Hatsuko sat behind her desk with a steaming cup of tea in one hand, the other on a book, and had her eyes closed, breath even, as she readied herself for whatever demands Hikaru was about to launch forth.

“Grandmother!” Hikaru slammed the door open with such force that the walls shook.

Hatsuko turned to the source of her disturbance, face wrinkled in great displeasure. “Hikaru. What have I said about slamming open doors? It’s unbecoming of the future head of the Shirogane family.” Not that Hikaru had to abide by any rules as the future head. She was the golden child, spoiled, and whatever rebukes Hatsuko had for her ultimately flew right over her head as she believed none of them applied to her.

“I’m sorry grandmother,” Hikaru said impatiently, not at all sorry. She plopped herself down in a cushion across from her grandmother, her layered skirts spread haphazardly in her haste. “But, grandmother! Do you even know what I heard from a servant just now? Something terrible!”

The Shirogane head took one look at her angry granddaughter, closed her eyes, and counted to three with practiced precision before she opened them slowly. She exhaled. “And pray tell me, Hikaru, what exactly did you hear?”

“That she's coming to my nuptial celebration! Is it true?”

Hatsuko set her tea cup on the table and smoothed non-existent wrinkles out of her kimono before placing her hands on her lap. “Yes it is, Hikaru. Your cousin is coming to the celebration, which should not be surprising to you. She is family, after all. Why are you so concerned?”

Hatsuko knew why, but politeness and niceties were sewn into every fiber of her being, in every word and every action, and this extended even to those she found unpleasant. And especially to family.

“Because I don’t want her to come,” she whined, squirming in her seat. “Can you find some way for her not to come? Make up an excuse or something? She’s such an eyesore and an absolute disgrace to our family! Imagine what the others would say if they saw her at the celebration! They’d make fun of me, I just know it!” Flinging herself across her grandmother’s tears, Hikaru wept, fat, theatrical tears, wetting her grandmother’s expensive kimono in the process. “You have to do something about it or I fear I will never recover from the shame, please grandmother!”

Hatsuko looked down at Hikaru and wondered how two people so close in age could be so different from each other. While you were humble and quiet, and lacked confidence and the inherited skills of the Shirogane family, Hikaru was arrogant and ostentatious, and confident, audacious even, in her cursed technique.

“She’s already been invited.” Hatsuko’s tone was final with no room for argument, but nevertheless, she tried to placate Hikaru, smoothing her black tresses which were curled and pinned up in a western fashion that she didn’t entirely approve of, but Hikaru liked it so she let her do as she pleased.

“Well just uninvite her or something,” Hikaru said petulantly against Hatsuko’s lap.

“I cannot, for it would be improper and reflect badly upon our family if we did not invite her.” Hatsuko worded her words carefully, knowing that if nothing else, Hikaru valued her reputation, and as such might see reason with her response.

Hikaru thought about it for a moment, brows knitted in deep thought, before she raised her head, frowning at her grandmother. “Fine.” She jutted her lower lips out. “But she has to be placed at the back, far away from the front of the table. Put her near all the lower-class families and branches. She’s already lucky enough to be invited so it shouldn’t be an issue for her.”

“If that is what you wish,” Hatsuko accepted. “Then I will arrange it as such.” It pained her to have to treat you like that, to add another heaping dose of prejudice into your overflowing cup, but there was little she could truly do.

Hikaru brightened immediately, already getting up and bounding towards the door upon completion of her task. “Thank you so much, grandmother! I knew you loved me more than her!”

Something deep inside Hatsuko twisted, like barbed wire embedding itself into flesh, and she fought the rise of bile that threatened to spill forth with her lies. She cleared her throat and straightened herself. “Of course, dear. You are the pride and joy of the Shirogane family. There is nothing we wouldn’t do for you.”

“I know,” she said sweetly, bouncing up and towards the door since she got what she wanted. Now she just had to devise a plan to humiliate you. Your husband probably wouldn’t deign to come with you because there was no way he’d love you enough to do so, so it would be easy to torment you.

A devious smile stretched across her beautiful face. “I’ll be going now! I can’t wait for the celebration!”

Hatsuko smiled thinly and watched her Hikaru leave, the giddy hum of the young woman an ominous sign of chaos to come.

In the days leading up to Hikaru’s nuptial celebrations and your informal visit back to the family, you’d felt listless and nervous, busying yourself with every task under the sun, almost robbing Momoka of all her tasks. Worried that you’d exhaust yourself, Sukuna had pulled you aside the day before, locked you in your shared room, and had so thoroughly fucked you multiple times that you felt too boneless to do anything.

Sukuna had accomplished his mission. And you had felt relaxed…until the next day.

“Do I look okay?” You fretted, mirror in hand as you meticulously smoothed your hair and every wrinkle you thought might be in your clothes.

Sukuna kissed the crown of your head, breathing in a mixture of jasmine from your shampoo and his favorite musky scent unique to you. “Of course, wife, you look stunning as per usual.”

“N-Not now,” you said nervously, stomach a coiled mess of knots and strings.“Or you’ll mess up my hair.” And much more than that.

“Then later?” he asked, heavily. His eyes dripped with liquid crimson, a syrupy promise of sweet desire and fulfillment.

You knew that look, found yourself craving it sometimes throughout the day (much to your distress), and pressed your thighs together at the sudden dull ache between your legs. “Yes, later,” you murmured.

The carriage hit a rock, almost jolting you from your seat, but Sukuna steadied you by trapping your legs inside his. The confined space made you overly aware of just how close he was, so close that you could feel the heat from his thighs seep into your kimono. He stayed like that, pressed against your legs, until he was satisfied and released his hold, leaving you bereft of his warmth.

Before you could dwell on the loss, he shifted over to make room for you on his side of the carriage, patting the space next time him in a silent command for you to come over. You started to get up, bending gingerly before he suddenly moved and tucked himself on your side of the carriage, almost squishing you with his massive frame. It would appear that one side of the carriage was just barely enough room for you and him.

“I was going to come over.” You gaped at him.

“But how could I let you do that? Especially with you wobbling all over the place? See.” He placed a hand on your thigh, squeezing the soft flesh lightly. “Even now, you’re shaking.”

You spluttered an excuse. “T-That’s because the carriage is moving! It’s not because of anything else!”

“Of course, wife.” He flashed white teeth, canines glinting sharply, dangerously close yet you weren’t afraid. There was something alluring about it, you thought, unconsciously leaning closer before you were mere inches from his lips.

A throaty chuckle broke you from your trance and you lurched backward, hoping he wouldn’t think too much about it.

“Sorry–I…didn’t mean–” Embarrassment colored your tone.

“Fascinated by them, are you, love?”

“They’re pretty,” you admitted, voice low like it was a secret. “I don’t know why I never noticed them until now.”

“They’re not so prominent unless I get excited.”

“Excited?” You cocked your head a bit to the side, confused. But why would he be excited right now?

“Aroused,” he amended with a sly smile. Sukuna kept his eyes trained on you, relishing the growing blush he could clearly see under the moonlight because of his enhanced senses.

Oh.

Now that you thought about it, between bouts of lovemaking you hazily remembered seeing flashes of sharp canines, and could faintly remember accidentally touching something sharp momentarily when kissing him sometimes.

“If you keep looking at me like that, wife, I’ll want to devour you myself,” Sukuna drawled.

He would’ve had time for a short romp before the party if you’d agreed to let him teleport the two of you, but you had insisted on a “proper carriage” for appearance's sake since you’d claimed that your family would look down on him if he showed up on foot without a carriage. Sukuna could care less of what they thought of him, that’s how he’d lived for the past hundreds of years, after all, but if you wanted something, he would be remiss to not oblige.

“We’re almost there.” He opened the carriage’s window and inhaled deeply, wrinkling his nose at what he smelled. Indeed, the two of you were almost at the Shirogane residence. The stench of humans was growing stronger.

When he looked back at you to find you fussing with your hair again, he said, “You look perfect, love. Don’t worry.”

“Easier said than done,” you mumbled, but you ceased your motions, instead placing your hands in your lap and interlacing your fingers to tightly squeeze them to take off some of the stress you were feeling.

When the carriage finally stopped before the entrance to your former home, a servant announced aloud that Ryomen-sama and his wife had arrived, a cue that it was time to leave. You moved on instinct, having to open doors for yourself for as long as you could remember, you thought that it’d be no different now that you were married. But Sukuna leaned over, his massive frame almost engulfing the moonlight from your vision, and held a hand over yours, stopping you from pushing open the door.

“Allow me.”

In an effortless motion, he pushed it open then opened the door from his side and held a hand out for you when he reached your side to help you out. You took his hand gingerly, familiar callused warmth keeping you warm despite the slight chill, and slowly stepped out. Your kimono had more layers than you were used to, hair ornaments were a bit heavy, and your sandals were slightly higher than usual, so you didn’t want to trip and make a fool of yourself.

You appreciated the gesture. Loved him even more for it.

Even though you shouldn’t.

“Thank you,” you said quietly as you held his hand.

He nodded, a handsome smile gracing his face, and placed his free hand at the small of your back to help steady you as the two of you made your way into the main residence and waited in the main hall with the other guests. You waited for him to let go of you, to put some distance in between the two of you, but he didn’t even as more attendees filed into the room.

Trying to get his attention, you tip-toed, accidentally pulling his sleeve when you lost your balance for a moment.

“Oh–sorry,” you whispered nervously.

“Nothing to be sorry about, love. I’d even kneel for you if you wanted me to.” He laughed, drawing the attention of a few people nearby. “That’s how much you’ve tamed me.”

Tame. The word felt foreign on your tongue, sticky seductive honey that held the implication of sweet domesticity and something more that lodged uncomfortably in your throat. A quiet knot of ownership.

You swallowed hard, giving him an aggrieved look while hotness crept up your neck.

Sukuna could tease you all day long, loved to see those cute expressions of yours, thought it was endearing how you squirmed and grew red under his gaze, but he knew there was only so much you could take before you combusted. “You are much too cute for your own good, little wife, but tell me. What is it that you wanted to say?”

“I–” You frowned, thinking of what you were going to say before the hand he had rested around your waist tightened infinitesimally, reminding you of your request. “I was going to ask when you were going to let go of me.”

“Never.” His response was immediate and razor-sharp as if to slice through any doubts.

“I see,” you murmured. But perhaps in the future. No one ever held on to you for very long, whether by choice or not.

Noticing your slight change in mood, Sukuna asked, “Would you like something to eat? Or something to drink?” His voice was gentle, red eyes trained carefully on you while he scanned his peripheral for a servant, ready to flag one down to get something for you. If you were hungry or thirsty, he’d make sure you had something to eat and drink no matter when the actual banquet started. He didn’t run on other’s time, they ran on his.

“N-No…I’m fine…Just stay here.” Besides, you weren’t sure if you’d even be able to keep anything down anyway and who knew when you’d see Hikaru. It’d be better to have someone you were comfortable with just in case.

“Very well,” Sukuna acquiesced, but he was still careful and led you to an empty seat at the end of the table, eyes narrowing when he saw table cards with his and your name there. If he didn’t know any better, he’d make a fuss over having to sit in such a demeaning position for his rank, but he knew you wanted to be as far away as possible from your cousin so he stayed silent, fury boiling and covered just barely by your presence.

As guests slowly filtered into the room, taking their respective seats at the large table, you watched the door with a wary gaze, trying to prepare yourself for your cousin. After what seemed like a millennia of holding your breath and remembering to exhale when you felt like you couldn’t breathe, you saw her.

Hikaru wore a heavy-looking sakura pink kimono with chrysanthemums embroidered throughout and a matching floral ornament in her hair. Her glossy black hair was styled high on her head and her pale skin contrasted with the shiny red lacquer on her lips and nails. She was a vision of perfection, especially on the arms of Kamo Masaru, a talented cursed blood technique user and the heir to the Kamo family.

Instinctually, you shifted away and averted your eyes, trying to hide behind Sukuna’s large frame in the hopes that she wouldn’t see you, but there was no mistaking her cold gaze, like icy daggers that were softened only by the warm, sturdy presence next to you.

If you were more confident in yourself, perhaps you would’ve stared back and made her think that you had nothing to be afraid of, but even as you were now, technically married up into a higher position than her, you knew that you stood no chance against her.

Noticing the way you uneasily tensed, Sukuna leaned forward, imperceptibly, as if he was casually rearranging heavy limbs, and purposefully gave your cousin an aloof, cursory glance before passing over her as if he was viewing a speck of lint on his kimono.

Hikaru, who was so used to fawning and words of flattery, could not help but scrunch her pretty face up at Sukuna’s dismissal before she realized the number of eyes that were on her and carefully schooled her features back to place with a serene smile. Anyone looking at her wouldn’t have noticed the minute change in her expression, but you were attuned to them. Had learned to read Hikaru’s emotions because your life depended on it.

When Hikaru finally seated herself near the head of the table, primly folding herself into a perfect seiza position, she turned towards your direction and raised her voice to address your husband. Unbidden panic threatened to spill forth, and you fought to stifle it, smothering it best you could. You would not allow it to bring shame to Sukuna or ruin Hikaru’s celebration.

Calm down, calm down, you repeatedly told yourself, ignoring the anxiety that seeped into every word you chanted while trying to keep your attention on the conversation at the same time.

“I’m glad you could join us from so far away, Ryomen-sama,” Hikaru said pleasantly. “I trust that your journey here was not too arduous?”

Sukuna nodded. “Fine,” he said curtly.

Then she turned her attention to you, voice so saccharine that it made your bones ache, but not sweetly, as it should’ve felt when a family member welcomed you back home, but sickly, like when you eat too many sweets in one sitting. It made you feel nauseous.

“And you, cousin, how are you doing? How is your married life?”

Sukuna drew himself back a few inches so he wasn’t blocking your view. Now that Hikaru had so blatantly addressed you in front of everyone, Sukuna could no longer shield you anymore and you could not just ignore her. There was no way out except to respond.

You took a steady breath in, steeling your emotions and willing your voice to not waver when you spoke or give anyone else more reason to think that Sukuna had gotten the short end of the stick in marrying you. Nothing could mask your plainness when compared to Hikaru and her stunning features.

“I-I’m doing fine, thank you,” you replied, hating the way your voice pitched higher from your nerves.

Hikaru frowned. “Just fine? Why cousin, it seems to me that Ryomen-sama treats you more than just fine.”

You scrambled to respond when you realized that in your bubble of anxiety that you missed her second question. “Oh I meant—”

“In fact,” she continued, completely ignoring you, “I feel that he treats you more than just fine.”

She lowered her gaze to peruse your appearance, lips curling at the sight of your expensive garments and hairpins. You fought the urge to hide from her scrutiny.

“Look at that stunning kimono you have on right now. It is nishijin-ori, is it not? I’ve heard that that fabric is extremely rare, usually reserved for royalty and the most expensive fabric in Japan, costing more than a year’s worth of wages for most commoners. And the fact that it was created by the Aoki family, the most famed tailors throughout the land yet you’re still unsatisfied…”

Hikaru huffed, disapproval etched into her face. “That isn’t very becoming of someone from the Shirogane family. What would others say if they knew such a greedy, materialistic person came from our esteemed family? It would tarnish our good name! Why must you act like this, cousin?”

You looked around frantically as people began to murmur and nod in agreement, accepting her words like they were the law despite the fact that she was very, very wrong. Panic settled coldly in your bones, freezing any confidence you thought you had.

You were more than grateful that Sukuna had even bothered to buy you new clothes — especially tailored pieces that weren’t premade — and you knew that the Aokis were famous for their clothes, but that was it. Unaware of the fact that he had Aoki-kun make your kimono out of nishijin-ori, you’d simply viewed the kimono as a pretty, treasured gift — certainly not one that was predominantly reserved for royalty. Had you known, you would’ve never let him do that or wear the kimono to the banquet.

“I…I didn’t–it’s not like that–” You were losing already, and you’d hardly even said anything. The whispers and stares continued to grow the longer the silence dragged on, until the weight of it all began to push against your chest and squeeze the air out of your lungs, forcing you to draw in short, shallow breaths.

You heard a quiet crack next to you, drawing your attention to your husband. His jaw was clenched tightly, and his hands gripped the edge of the table with such fury that you swore he would’ve broken the wood in half had you not tugged on his sleeve. Twisting sharply, you were met with blazing, infernal eyes that cooled instantly upon seeing your distress.

“Love,” he murmured, ignoring the stares of your family. “Do you want to leave?”

It hurt, the familiar pressure clawing at your throat, the burdensome stares of your family, the helplessness you felt. You weren’t sure what would be worse: suffering the shame of leaving with your tail tucked between your legs or staying and being unable to respond to Hikaru’s humiliating jabs. No matter what you chose, you’d lose. You always lost against her. It was inevitable.

When you didn’t answer, Sukuna whipped to face Hikaru with fiery eyes and sharp teeth bared at her, barely able to contain the growl in his voice. “Let’s get one thing straight, Hikaru. It was my decision to buy the clothes despite the fact that she didn’t want them. And I wanted her to wear them because as my wife, she should have garments befitting her station, should she not?”

“Or did you expect her to wear something cheap like the kimono she wore when she arrived at my shrine? Or servant’s garbs like the ones she wore before I had Aoki-kun tailor new garments for her? Or wait, don’t tell me–” His tone turned savage, pretty lips curled up in disgust. “The Shirogane family is so poor that they cannot outfit my wife in proper garments. No wonder.”

A collective gasp of horror sucked the air from the room, leaving you feeling light, almost heady from the twist of pleasure you got. There was finally someone to put your family back in place and even if it wasn’t yourself, you welcomed it nonetheless. Your turn would come, but for now it was more than enough that Sukuna would help you despite having no obligation to do so. You were forever grateful to him.

“Ryomen-sama you dare—”

“Hikaru.” A sharp command sliced through your cousin’s words, demanding acquiescence, and you looked towards the source of that voice, knowing that there was only one person who Hikaru had to obey.

Your grandmother.

She’d aged since you’d last seen her, new lines in her forehead and grooves that burdened her silver eyes, and you wondered if there was some issue that she had to deal with while you were gone or if she was truly beginning to grow old.

Growing up, you always thought of her as some sort of invincible, never-aging, powerful being — she certainly seemed that way especially when your parents were alive — but now you weren’t so sure. With Hikaru getting married to the Kamo heir, it became increasingly clear that she was getting old, tired even, and was ready to step down from her place and let Hikaru lead.

Your grandmother retiring was a good thing, but you couldn’t help the aching pang of knowing your cousin would inherit the title that was supposed to be yours. But perhaps it would be better anyway, you thought, you had nothing to offer to your family, and Hikaru could be a nasty person to you, but she never did anything to truly endanger your father’s family.

You continued to stare intently at your grandmother as she gave Hikaru a firm glance before turning to address your husband.

“Ryomen-sama.” Her voice was soft, but there was no mistaking the authority behind it. “On behalf of my unruly granddaughter, I apologize for her insolence and rude behavior towards you. I hope you will be willing to overlook her mistakes on behalf of the Shirogane family.” Your grandmother bowed low, the lowest you’d ever seen her bow, before sitting at the head of the table.

Sukuna did not want to forgive her at all, but you’d want him to so he flicked his eyes briefly at your grandmother before turning his attention back to you. “Only because my wife wants to forgive.” I do not.

Decades of diplomacy and leading a family as prominent as the Shirogane had honed Hatsuoko’s skills, and she took that as a sign to move on to a different conversation. Her tone grew gentle. “My dear granddaughter. I am very happy to have you back home and see you doing so well. I trust that the journey here was not too difficult? I know that Ryomen-sama’s shrine is a bit far from here.”

You fought to keep the smile out of your voice since propriety was necessary in public. “Thank you grandmother, I’m happy to see you as well. Everything went smoothly, nothing to worry about.

Thin lips turned up slightly at the edges, a ghost of a smile.

“That is good,” she said warmly before her voice grew again, a mask of diplomacy sliding over her with practiced precision. “I humbly welcome everyone to the Shirogane family residence. Today we celebrate the upcoming nuptials of my granddaughter and Shirogane heir, Shirogane Hikaru, and the Kamo family’s heir, Kamo Masaru. It is a joyous occasion, and I thank you all for coming.”

While she spoke, servants appeared behind each guest like soundless ghosts, setting fresh, steaming trays of food accompanied by shots of sake before each guest before disappearing just as fast as they’d appeared.

“Let us toast. Then we will enjoy a bountiful meal.” She raised her glass and waited for everyone else to do the same.

You eyed the sake cup with weary desperation. You’d tasted it once when your father died (you were too young to drink it when your mother died, otherwise you’d have tasted it twice), and had swallowed the liquid bitterness despite the fact that you hated how it pooled in your stomach, warm and unyielding and a harsh reminder of what you lost. Now every time you thought of sake or alcohol in general, you thought of your parents’ death.

Sensing your hesitation from the way your hands shook when holding the cup, Sukuna took the drink from you before you could protest. A small smirk graced his features, as if he’d meant to do it all along. When your grandmother raised her glass up for a toast, he did the same for your glass and his, before finishing the alcohol in a single breath.

“Sukuna! You didn’t have to drink it for me!” you whispered furtively. “I don’t want you getting drunk in my stead.”

Two shots of sake were akin to a drop in the ocean to a creature like him who’d downed entire cellars of sake in one sitting before, but you didn’t know that, which made your concern all the more endearing to him. “Hmm,” he hummed, as the two of you clapped your hands together along with the others, muttering a quick itadakimasu, before eating. “Can’t have a drunk little wife on my hands, can I? I have to protect you.”

You hadn’t had a single drop of alcohol the entire night, but the way your face warmed made it feel as if you’d drunk a whole bottle by yourself. “That much alcohol isn’t enough to make me drunk…”

“Not enough to make you drunk,” he agreed, picking at the meat in front of him while wishing he could eat your cooking instead. Or even better, you.

He didn’t even need to eat, did it mostly to indulge you and because he liked your cooking, but he’d always take you over any mortal food. The thought of you squirming above him, slick cunt dripping juice into his mouth almost made him want to drag you from your seat, toss you over his shoulder, and find a closet to feast on you.

But he didn’t.

Sukuna was learning to be tamer around you.

“But look,” he murmured, bringing his thumb to your face to wipe a grain of rice stuck to the corner of your lip. “It would probably be enough alcohol to make your pretty face pink like it is right now. And I don’t want anyone else to see you like this.”

You nearly dropped your chopsticks but held on to them for fear of ridicule from your family. “O-Oh…um, Sukuna. That–that’s—” He’d said flirtier, dirtier, things to you before, but they were all in private. Now you were in public, in front of your family, and you didn’t know how to act.

“Eat, my love.” Sukuna fished his chirimenjako from his tray, the action reminding you of how your father used to do that for you, and set it in your rice bowl. “I know you like these fish things. Eat mine.”

“Thank you,” you mumbled, grateful to have something else to focus on. Concentrating intently on your tray, you ate your dinner, keeping yourself as composed as possible despite Hikaru’s cold glare that shot through Sukuna’s imposing body. The fact that this was your first time eating with your family in years was not lost on you. And especially not lost on Hikaru.

Time passed quickly, and soon everyone had begun to wander out of the dining room and into other spaces. Needing to use the restroom, you excused yourself after telling Sukuna where you were going. He grabbed your arm, asking if you needed him to come with you, but you told him with a smile that he couldn’t regardless of what you wanted because you were using the ladies' room. Sukuna pouted, but you promised that you’d be back as soon as you could, and it was only after a reluctant kiss that he finally let you go.

You finished your business quickly, wanting to get back to Sukuna as soon as you could and go home before you realized that you still hadn’t given your grandmother the gift that you’d brought her. Hoping that she’d be in her room, you hurried through the corridors, slipping past drunken guests, and made your way to the front of her room.

“Grandmother?” you whispered. “Are you there?”

You waited a few seconds for a response before you asked again. “Grandmother? Are you—”

“What are you doing?”

You jumped, nearly dropping the gift in your hand, before shoving it hastily into your sleeve and turning on your toes, dread coursing through your veins.

“Hikaru…I’m sorry–Nothing, I wasn’t doing anything. I’ll just leave. Thank you for your invite.” You quickly bowed once before leaving, and walked as fast as you could in your kimono, cursing the damn contraption for slowing you down — it was pretty, yes, but incredibly difficult to move, and move quickly in it.

A sigh of relief broke out from you when you made it to one of the gardens in the residence, but your celebration was cut short when you felt liquid metal, a stinging cold against your wrist, squeeze hard, forcing you to turn and face your attacker.

“I know what you’re thinking,” Hikaru sneered, letting the silver liquid slither up your arms so that it coiled around your neck like a pretty, poisonous snake, ready to strike at any time.

“You think that just because you’re married to Ryomen-sama,” she sneered his name, “that means you’re suddenly better than you are. That you’re not trash. But don’t lie to yourself. You won’t be married to him forever. He could easily find someone much better than you, replace you, and leave you with nothing and no one would think otherwise.”

You were acutely aware of the fact that if Sukuna wanted to, he could abandon you at any moment, but at the same time, you held a wild, desperate hope that perhaps he liked you just enough — even if just the bare minimum — to let you stay with him. Even tolerance would be enough for you. All you could hope for.

“So don’t forget your place. Don’t forget who you are. Someone useless, someone unlovable. A member of the Shirogane family, even if you’re a failure. So remember that I control you!” she spat, wringing the mercury tighter against your skin as if to emphasize her claims. You were sure that there’d be bruising now, bruising that’d be hard to explain to Sukuna.

You wanted to scream at her. To take her by the shoulders and shake her until the cold hard truth – that no one had ever treated you like a member of the Shirogane family – was beaten into her. But you knew you couldn’t because saying those things would be akin to social suicide for Sukuna, so you tried for softer words while clawing feebly at the liquid death that encircled your neck.

“H-Hikaru…listen–I…people might hear us and the latter half of the celebration will start soon, so let’s talk about this later.”

But Hikaru would not be so easily coaxed into agreement. “Later? You want to talk about this later?!”

Her shrill voice rang so loudly that you winced and looked worriedly at your surroundings, hoping that no one heard, especially not Sukuna. “Later?! You want to talk about this later?”

You winced at her shrill voice and looked worriedly around you, hoping that no one had heard when a sudden sting of pain jolted your attention back to Hikaru. She’d used her mercury to whip you, hard, the impact of it was so strong and caught you so off guard that it knocked you back a few steps, making you lose your balance and trip into a stone bench. The rock dug into the back of your thighs, bruising hard, and you reached up to soothe the sting on your face only to draw back in half-panic and half-surprise at the wet warmth you felt on your fingertips.

You had grown comfortable with Sukuna’s gentle ways. Too comfortable.

You could feel the tears well up in your eyes, fat drops that threatened to spill forth and betray what little strength you had, but you squeezed your eyes shut and forced yourself to focus on the pain and the blood. You wouldn’t let your tears betray how you really felt.

And then there was the matter of Sukuna. You didn’t want your husband to see you like this — for him to see you in such a pitiful state, somehow who couldn’t even protect yourself. Someone at the mercy of another, having to pitifully beg for even a scrap of Hikaru’s leniency. If he saw you now, he’d think you were disgusting and worthless, and he’d realize that you simply weren’t worth it.

You knew it, had expected it to happen since he was bound to find out about your past, but you were hoping you’d have a little more time to prepare him. A little more time to prepare yourself. Some nice memories to tide over the ache you’d feel when you would eventually be discarded.

But there was never enough time. If you learned anything in life, it was that time was servant to none and master to all. It didn’t care that your mother was young, in her primes, or that you were too young to lose your father. Time took them anyway. So what else were you to do besides submit?

Crumpled and defeated, not even caring that your pretty new kimono was dirtied and ripped in multiple places, you kneeled. You kneeled before this angry goddess, taking in every insult hurled at you while your body slowly caved in from the pain your liquid metal jailer wrought on you.

“Know your place, whore,” Hikaru seethed. She grabbed a fistful of your hair, hair that was just starting to grow healthily, and yanked it sharply to force you to look at her. You bit your tongue hard to stop the cry of pain that’d come out, tasting bitter, metallic blood. “You’re just a slave—”

“My wife.”

A two-worded revelation from your savage god. Pure relief flooded through you, barely enough to smother the intense shame and disgust you felt from yourself.

Sukuna was here, but you couldn’t be sure if it was a good thing or not.

Hikaru spun on her heels to face the intruder, anger etched into every fiber of her being, but when she saw who it was, her demeanor changed instantaneously, molding her expression and posture into picturesque gentility.

“Ryomen—”

But Sukuna ignored her and made a beeline for you, kneeling on the hard floor before reaching his hand out for you to take. You slipped your shaking hands into his while keeping your gaze lowered, not daring to see what expression he had on his face right now. Surely he would be irate and berate you for ruining an expensive kimono or criticize your lack of decorum and sneer at your weakness.

Sukuna, however, addressed your cousin first. “What were you doing to my wife?” His voice sounded unaffected, but his calmness belied an undercurrent of violence just barely contained. He didn’t want to scare you off.

“What do you mean?” Hikaru asked dumbly, batting her eyelashes at him. “As the future head of the Shirogane family, it is my duty to discipline members of the family when they’re misbehaving.”

You could feel his grip tighten imperceptibly on your waist.

“Your family?” he scoffed. “She is my wife and thus bears the surname Ryomen, making her no longer a part of the Shirogane family. Instead, she is now under my protection and care and if anyone is to discipline her, to teach her the error of her ways, it will be me, and not some outsider.”

Hikaru’s expression darkened, as if she couldn’t believe that there would be someone so bold as to question her authority not once, but twice. Her original plan of getting on Sukuna’s good side changed because he’d insulted her pride and status. She would not let his comment go. “You have no idea what you’re talking about and who you’re talking to.”

Sukuna arched a fine eyebrow. “Oh do I?”

“Yes,” she insisted. “Last time we met, you only knew me as her cousin,” she spat the word out as if it was poison. "But what you don’t know is that I am the heir of the prized mercury cursed technique of the Shirogane family and the future head of the family.”

Sukuna was beginning to see everything very clearly now — what and how you suffered in the past. It didn’t matter that your grandmother was the head of the family and kind to you if she turned a blind eye to Hikaru’s cruel behavior towards you merely because she had inherited the Shirogane family’s dying cursed technique. And if the family head showed such ignorance, then clearly the rest of the clan, whether they scorned you because they saw your grandmother as a role model, or because they themselves didn’t want to get shunned for siding with you, would not have helped the situation.

You must’ve been so lonely.

And if your loneliness was anything like his, it was not just simply loneliness, but a demon that consumed you.

The first few hundred years after he became a cursed spirit, he suffered daily from this loneliness, seeking a feeling, something exhilarating, overwhelming, powerful enough to get rid of the loneliness that ate at him from the inside out. It threatened to consume him whole, leave nothing behind, and every day he fought against it. He murdered, tortured, and plundered his way through his new life before he finally decided that he was tired of it all. That he wanted to settle down in one place.

Life was peaceful at the shrine, a calm respite from the noise of the world, and he enjoyed his few servants. His days passed without any trouble except for when he received a sacrificial bride (they were often distraught and it’d take them many weeks or months to calm down). But loneliness chipped away at him, like water against stone, and each passing year further solidified his belief that he’d never find an end to his loneliness.

Until you came along.

Sukuna didn’t care that the Shiroganes were powerful cursed technique users – there had been no one in centuries who even came close to rivaling his power, so he was not going to simply sit by and watch as some impudent spoiled human brat hurt you.

“And what of it?” Sukuna replied coolly. “What of the Shirogane family?”

Hikaru’s face contorted in anger, beautiful features turning ugly. “Why you—”

“Do you know who you’re talking to?” he thundered, eyes glowing red. “To go against her is to go against me. And to go against me is to go against god.”

Not a single sound could be heard from Hikaru despite the fact that Sukuna had interrupted her.

“It would appear to me, weak human, that your family has not educated you about your history nor the identity of their superior. For I am their god, whether they acknowledge it or not, which means that not only am I owed respect from your family but that my wife is also owed the same respect. I do not care if you are more powerful,” he said the words mockingly, “than my wife, because I can assure you, you are most certainly not better than her, and are in fact worth nothing compared to her. In my eyes, she is worth much, much more, than your paltry cursed technique.”

Stunned silent, Hikaru looked at Sukuna, silver eyes glinting with pain. Yet indignation reigned and she couldn’t help challenging him. “If you think the Shirogane family’s cursed technique is so weak, then you won’t turn me down in a friendly match, will you?”

“Very well.”

A friendly match?

No, you couldn’t let the two of them do that. You’d seen the destruction that Hikaru had wreaked before and had watched with silent horror servants writhing in agony through half-opened windows and doors left ajar. Cruel handiwork on shattered masterpieces you had to patch up every time she was finished with them. And sometimes you’d catch a glimpse of her sparring with her instructor (the same one you had many years ago), and be half-terrified, half-awed by the sheer power she had. Power you should’ve had but didn’t.

Sukuna was formidable, no doubt, but you couldn’t risk him getting hurt on your behalf.

“No!” The two of them spun to look at you, and you fought the urge to shirk at icy silver eyes that had traumatized you and molten red ones that you’d grown to love so much.

“I-Please don’t fight. I don’t want you…two to get hurt…” At first, you thought only of your husband, until you realized that Hikaru getting hurt would surely spell doom for Sukuna. The Shirogane family would want someone to answer for her injuries and heavens forbid her death, if it happened, and you would be the perfect scapegoat for it. They’d spin a tale of how you, the eldest cousin, was jealous of Hikaru and had devised a plan for Sukuna to get rid of her for you so you could seize her position.

Never mind that you wanted and cared nothing for that, but your family would use you as a scapegoat and Sukuna would get caught in the crossfire simply by association with you. But Sukuna only looked at you with a devastating smirk, one that made you hope and despair at the same time. He was going to fight her, regardless of what you said. It made sense, you thought wanely. Why would he ever listen to someone as weak and useless as yourself?

“I will be but a moment, love,” he said nonchalantly, pressing a kiss to the top of your head before setting you gently on the bench.

Hikaru manipulated several streams of mercury into the air, ready to attack Sukuna as soon as he turned around, and when you saw it, your legs were moving before you realized it, running to do something, anything, to shield him from the mercury – you had a firsthand experience of how acutely they hurt – but then you were in his warm embrace, face pressed against his chest and breathing in his scent when you heard someone howl in pain.

When you finally dared to open your eyes, you found Hikaru crumpled on the ground in pain, hurt in the same places you were while Sukuna hadn’t taken a single step from where he was.

“R-Ryomen-sama! How dare you do this to me!” Hikaru stood shakily, trying to come to terms that someone had just hurt her and summoned more mercury, ready to shoot those streams at Sukuna when—

“Enough.” Your grandmother’s voice held no room for argument, and Hikaru obeyed, immediately getting rid of her mercury.

Sukuna looked at Hikaru with such heavy distaste that you could almost feel the sting yourself.

“I didn’t realize that the Shirogane family had fallen so low,” he remarked with disdain, “become so uneducated, and so uncouth so as to not recognize their god, the King of Curses. Do something about it. I don’t want my wife’s family to be known as weak, ignorant people, nor do I want to be disappointed again by them.” Sukuna effortlessly lifted you from where you sat before you could mutter a protest. “We’ll be leaving now, Shirogane-sama.”

You craned your neck up to look at your husband before turning to your grandmother who was helping Hikaru up. “We’re leaving?” you murmured nervously. “Just like that?”

“Of course.” He arched an eyebrow at you, confused, as if you were the crazy one. “There’s no need for us to be here anymore, and I want to tend to your wounds as soon as possible, so I’ll teleport us back,” he said simply.

“O-Okay…”

You held on to him tightly, perhaps tighter than needed, and a few moments later you were back at the shrine. The calm, familiar environment enveloped you, and you sighed deeply, glad you had some place to return and find solace because the Shirogane residence was certainly anything but peaceful.

As Sukuna carried you to your rooms, asking Momoka for a first aid kit on the way there, you wondered how you were going to approach him tomorrow morning. It was a given that he’d surely have questions for you — remarks, at the very least — about what happened, but you weren’t sure if you were ready to open up to him yet.

But perhaps he wouldn’t even care to listen to you. He could just be acting courteous to you, bidding his time before he divorced you and ran you out of the shrine. It sickened you, bile rising unbidden, at the thought of him abandoning you, and you vehemently fought to keep it down while clinging harder to Sukuna and burying your nose into the crook of your neck, focusing on his calming scent.

If only this moment would last forever. If only you could live in this illusion for the rest of your life. If only he would love you unconditionally; want nothing in return.

Wonderful yet impossible.

Nishijin-ori (西陣織, lit. 'Nishijin fabric'): is a traditional textile produced in the Nishijin (西陣) district of Kamigyō-ku in Kyoto, Japan. Originating in Heian-kyōto over 1,200 years ago, the weaving is known for its highly-decorative and finely-woven designs, created through the use of tedious and specialized production processes. It is well-regarded for the high quality and craftsmanship of the resulting fabrics, commonly used for high-quality obi and kimono. Taken from Wikipedia.

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