#undertaker is just here for the food
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watching this has made me remember one of the first things that really struck a chord with me and made me think oh maybe i Am gonna be one of those trekkies who's super into klingons is how they dont have the same table manners as the human crew, even the subtitles are like [eating noisily] and it's made a point of as if to show how ~different~ and ~uncivilised~ they are. but as someone who was mocked and berated constantly growing up for being a clumsy/messy eater no matter how hard i tried not to be i saw that and was like oh 😳 just like me...
#i think there's a point to be made about how other (non-western) cultures food and eating methods are often sensationalised as messy/dirty#like i dont know enough about it but ik it's often standard to eat with your hands in other places#and that gets derided as 'unhygienic' by white westerners in a very racist way#bc of this notion of like refinement being represented by dainty cutlery and undertaking a meal with surgical precision#vs barbarity being eating with your hands and making a mess#which is obviously the connotation theyre using here in this episode#but thats not the reality in places where eating with your hands is standard there's etiquette to it it's refined but by another standard#and obviously there's a class angle there too...#idk i just think it's interesting#tlhIngan#ghItlhpu'wIj#klingon ep liveblog
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TWTHH Spinoff: Stitched Hearts [2]
Pairing: dressmaker!Hongjoong x noblewoman!reader
AU: historical au (Joseon era)
Word Count: 7.7k
Summary: Throughout his entire career, Hongjoong has received nothing but praise for his work. Never once had anyone suggested his dresses were anything short of perfection. That is, until he met the youngest daughter of the Baek household—the family's black sheep, an enigmatic spinster whom he found utterly confounding.
Part 1 | Main Story | Spinoff Masterlist
"Go home, hyung, and think carefully about what I've said," Yunho insisted, ushering the dressmaker out of his clinic, "I really can't talk right now; I need to close up."
As Hongjoong made his way back to his shop, an internal struggle ensued between his mind and heart. His mind urged him to proceed with the job, reminding him he had no reason to be so troubled. Yet, his heart protested, insisting that it wasn't right. By going along with this, he would be complicit in someone's unhappiness.
Various scenarios played out in his mind as he imagined the aftermath of the makeover he was about to undertake. There was no doubt that you would attract attention from all directions, which wasn't the issue. He could picture potential suitors vying for your hand, but the thought unsettled him for reasons he couldn't quite grasp.
By the end of the night, his rational side prevailed, leading him to choose to proceed with the job. He concluded that entrusting another dressmaker with your makeover was out of the question; after all, he was the best in all of Joseon. You said it yourself; what you liked or wanted did not matter. If you were willing to comply with your family's wishes, then who was he to object?
He chastised himself for letting his emotions cloud his judgement. Despite feeling bad for you, he reminded himself that you were simply another customer. He shouldn't allow himself to be so affected by matters that were none of his concern.
Over the next few days, he dedicated himself entirely to crafting the most exquisite hanbok. He meticulously coordinated every detail, ensuring it would meet the approval of your family. As he finalised the sketch of your ensemble, along with the hairstyle and makeup he envisioned for you, he couldn't help but notice the absence of a smile on his drawing of you. It dawned on him that he had never seen you smiling, not even once.
Although a part of him entertained the idea of coaching you to flash a killer smile, his heart twinged at the realisation that any smile he coaxed would be forced, "Snap out of it, you idiot!" he scolded himself, shaking off the unnecessary thoughts and redirecting his focus to other aspects of the design.
In the meantime, Hongjoong's name seemed to echo through your days ever since his arrival. Your family would lavish him with endless praise for his dedication to his craft, simultaneously lecturing you for not being more courteous toward him, for expecting him to seek you out without you bothering to greet him upon his arrival. If only they were aware of the cruel words he had uttered to you recently. Would they still support him so fervently? Perhaps they would side with him and reprimand you even further for not showing him enough appreciation.
"My dear, why not try being a bit more hospitable today and give Mr. Kim a little tour during his visit, hm?" your mother suggested during breakfast, her tone tinged with exasperation, "It's hard to believe he's already been here twice and has only seen the library and your quarters. Take him around the gardens, at least, will you?"
You pursed your lips, feeling a hint of irritation rising within you, though you didn't show it, "But mother, he's here to work. He's not a guest. Why should we extend such hospitality to him?" you muttered, taking another bite of your food.
Haeun scoffed in response, "Are you even listening to yourself? Mr. Kim is doing you a huge favour. He even closed his shop just to come here for you. The least you could do is show him some courtesy," your father and brother instantly agreeing with her.
Feeling frustrated, you decided to keep your mouth shut, realising that nothing you said would ever satisfy your family when they teamed up against you to highlight your supposed shortcomings.
This is dumb, he's getting paid anyway.
"What a pleasant surprise, Miss Baek! How kind of you to finally greet me and offer to take me on a tour!" the dressmaker exclaimed with raised brows as he was met with your blank stare while you stood waiting by the entrance of your family estate.
Shaking your head, you gestured for him to follow you, "Trust me, Mr. Kim, it's not my idea, and I dread this as much as you do. Please endure it for a bit for the sake of pleasing my family."
He blinked, trying not to let your bluntness affect him. He should know better than to be surprised by your straightforwardness by now. Nodding quickly, he rushed to catch up to you, already several steps ahead, apparently unconcerned whether he was following or not as you began the tour, "Right, my lady! Of course!"
Amused, he chuckled softly to himself at your bored expression as you walked past main areas like the living hall and dining hall before reaching places he recognised. Speaking in a monotone, you pointed out, "You've already seen these places. This is the library, and my quarters are just over there, but you already know that."
Turning to him, you furrowed your brows, "Is there anything funny?"
Biting his lip to suppress his laughter, he shook his head, "Not at all, Miss Baek. Please continue," he reassured, finding your reluctance somewhat endearing.
His eyes widened in wonder as you both arrived at what appeared to be a small play area for the children, "This is a mini playground my father had our servants create for his grandchildren," you explained, gesturing toward your nieces and nephews who were running around joyfully, their laughter echoing through the air. Glancing over at you, he noticed a hint of envy in your eyes, as if you longed to experience the simple happiness the children were enjoying.
After a moment, you took a deep breath and shook off the sentiment, "Well, let's move on to other areas then. I'm sure you don't have all day, Mr. Kim," you said briskly.
Without giving him a chance to reply, you headed off in another direction. He sighed before running after you again, silently cursing you for keeping him on the move. Yet, despite that, he couldn't find it in him to muster any irritation toward you. There was something about your behaviour that felt refreshing. For once, he appreciated being treated simply as another person, rather than being placed on a pedestal for all his accomplishments or appearance.
Arriving at your next location, you remarked rather sarcastically, "Of course, we can't forget the most crucial place in the entire estate, the kitchens," your voice hushed to avoid attracting attention from the busy maids for fear of disrupting their work.
Just as you were both about to leave, a burst of laughter echoed through the kitchen, accompanied by a blunt remark, "I bet the young miss will end up divorced early in her marriage, even if she miraculously finds a suitor after the makeover Mr. Kim gives her. She's an absolute nightmare! What sane man could tolerate her for long?"
Hongjoong felt his blood boil at the audacious words, growling under his breath, "How dare they—" He clenched his fists and took a step toward the door, seemingly ready to confront them.
Surprised by his reaction, you reached out and grasped his wrist, causing him to look down at your hold before meeting your gaze with a questioning expression. You sighed heavily, "Forget it, there's no point in doing whatever you intend to do. I'm already hard to like as it is, and I don't want them to dislike me even more than they already do. Let's just get out of here, Mr. Kim."
Feeling a pang in his chest, he couldn't shake off the aggravation that washed over him at the acceptance in your tone. The realisation that you were well aware of everyone's dislike towards you, yet you had resigned yourself to enduring it, stirred an unsettling mix of emotions within him. Just how long had you been suffering all this alone?
When he remained rooted in his spot, you squeezed his wrist and whispered, "Please, can we just go?"
With a defeated expression, he squeezed his eyes shut and nodded, "Fine, as you wish."
As you both left the kitchen behind, his mind buzzed with unanswered questions. Why wouldn't you stand up for yourself? And why wouldn't you let him be the one to defend you? It frustrated him to no end. He couldn't comprehend how someone as strong-willed as you could endure such treatment.
The weight of your silence hung heavy in the air, leaving him feeling helpless and conflicted. He wanted to reach out, to offer some form of solace or support, but he couldn't find the right words. Instead, he walked alongside you in silence, his mind racing with thoughts of how to help you.
Glancing at him, you could easily discern his struggle to contain his annoyance. But what you couldn't understand was why he seemed more bothered by it than you, especially considering his apparent dislike toward you. Eager to move past the incident, you decided to follow your mother's suggestion and led him to the gardens.
"I hope you like flowers, Mr. Kim," you offered as you strolled among the blooms, "These are some of my mother's proudest collections, gathered from other provinces."
Relief washed over you as he appeared to be distracted, showing genuine interest as he examined some of the rare flowers not typically found in this area.
Giving him a moment alone, you scanned the area, straining to hear a faint meowing. Your eyes widened and you gasped as you spotted a cat stranded atop a tree. Without hesitation, you rushed forward, calling out, "Don't worry, kitty! I'll rescue you!" Your hands reached for the tree branch as you searched for a secure foothold to climb.
"Ooh, this one's pretty! Where did this come from?" he pondered aloud, his brow furrowing at the lack of response. Glancing up, he did a double take upon seeing you attempting to scale a tree.
Hastening over, he halted your ascent with a firm grip on your arm, "I turn away for one second and—have you lost your mind? What in god's name do you think you're doing?!"
Clicking your tongue in frustration, you pointed to the poor little distressed animal above, "Let me go. I'm going to save the cat, whether you like it or not."
The dressmaker sighed in exasperation, slapping a palm against his forehead as he observed the determination in your eyes. With a roll of his eyes, he relented, "Ugh, fine. Step aside, I'll do it."
You huffed, conceding to his offer, and relinquished your position. As he handed you the bag containing your latest hanbok, he rolled up his sleeves, muttering to himself, "I can't believe I'm doing this," before proceeding to climb the tree with surprising agility. However, he soon realised the tree was taller than expected, and panic gripped him as he reached the top, letting out a startled yelp, "Oh my god, this tree is way taller than I thought!"
"Quit wasting time and save the cat!" you urged, frustration creeping into your voice. When he shot you a glare, you narrowed your eyes and challenged, "If you're so scared, get down here then! I'll do it!"
"No, no, no, don't you dare! What kind of man would I be to let you do it, huh? You stay put and wait down there," he insisted firmly, before reaching out tentatively for the frightened animal, "Come here, kitty. It's alright, just come to me and you'll be safe."
With bated breath, you observed as his hand shook pitifully. Slowly but surely, the animal inched closer to him, bit by bit, until it ended up snugly in his arms. A sigh of relief escaped you as he succeeded. Holding the rescued feline close to his chest, he carefully made his way back down.
As soon as he handed the cat over to you, his legs gave out, and he sank onto the ground. His face was blank, as if he were still trying to process what he had just done. The last thing he expected when coming here today was to do something like this.
Seeing his defeated posture, unlike his usual composed demeanour, you couldn't help but let a smile sneak onto your face, eventually bursting into a fit of giggles as you replayed the scene in your head. At the sound, he glanced up, captivated by the melody of your laughter. Frozen in place, his heart skipped a beat as he beheld your smile for the first time, genuine happiness lighting up your features. At that moment, he realised your beauty, wanting nothing more than to see that smile more often.
How pretty.
Since that day, both of you appeared to have grown more at ease with each other. He abandoned the formalities, as you urged, and shed the false pleasantries. Finally, he felt comfortable enough to be his true self around you, letting his unfiltered thoughts flow freely and speaking his mind without reservation. You didn't seem to mind, especially since he hadn't intended any offence with his words.
While you wouldn't go as far as calling yourselves friends, there was a comfort in each other's presence that had developed. Even in moments of silence, there was never any awkwardness, only an unspoken understanding between you, a connection that required no verbal declaration; you simply understood each other.
Over Hongjoong's recent visits, a routine had formed. You would courteously greet him at the entrance before guiding him to your quarters. There, he would assist you in trying on the hanboks he had crafted, ensuring they fit perfectly and required no further alterations. He would experiment with different makeup and hairstyles, exploring which suited you best.
After weeks of diligent work to assemble the perfect ensemble for you, today marked the culmination of his efforts—the day he would finally unveil your complete makeover. With an array of hanboks he had brought from his previous visits, they were sufficient to constitute an entirely new wardrobe for you. This was the moment your family had eagerly anticipated, the outcome they had engaged the dressmaker for. He observed you scrutinise the items he had meticulously prepared, your expression unreadable.
"Are you ready, Miss Baek?" he inquired.
You shot him a look that seemed to convey 'are you kidding me', your lips pursed, "Does it matter? Just do what you have to, Kim."
With a nod, he began with your hair and makeup, his heart quickening with every movement under the weight of your attentive gaze, fixated on his handsome features. Unbeknownst to him, you held your breath whenever he moved a little closer to perfect your eye makeup. Cursing himself, he attempted to steady his trembling hands as he moved on to your lips, "Could you please look away or close your eyes?" he requested.
"Why?" you inquired, devoid of any jest.
He sighed, "Look, it's... it's distracting, okay? I find it hard to concentrate when you're watching me so intently."
Rolling your eyes, you acquiesced and closed your eyes, "And you claim to be a professional," you remarked.
For once, he lacked the energy to retort, his heart dancing with sensations he had never experienced before. Despite having applied makeup for countless women, he had never encountered such a physical reaction. Puzzled, he struggled to understand the inexplicable effect you seemed to have on him and his poor heart.
"Everything's finished, except for putting on the hanbok," he announced, placing his tools aside before excusing himself momentarily as your maids began assisting you with one of the most elaborate hanboks he had produced. Stepping outside your quarters, he was taken aback to see your entire family assembled and waiting. Bowing respectfully, he greeted them, "Ah, you've all arrived right on time. Miss Baek is almost prepared."
Hajoon stepped forward, extending his hand to shake the dressmaker's, "With your assistance, I'm certain she'll look stunning. Thank you so much for your dedication, Mr. Kim," your parents chimed in, expressing their gratitude for his hard work.
Suddenly, the attention shifted as one of your nephews pointed towards the entrance of your room, exclaiming, "Look, a princess!" All eyes turned to catch a glimpse of you.
A chorus of gasps escaped from your family members as they beheld the sight before them. Your family was overcome with awe, your mother and sister shedding tears of joy as if you had finally fulfilled their deepest wishes. Turning around, Hongjoong's breath caught in his throat as he took in your completed transformation for the first time, mirroring the astonishment of everyone else. You appeared breathtaking, meeting society's standards of perfection and seamlessly fitting into their expectations. Yet, the absence of joy in your expression failed to bring him satisfaction.
She's not happy.
In truth, a foolish part of him clung to the hope that you might still be impressed by your transformation once you had seen your beauty, despite knowing your reservations. He harboured a fleeting expectation that your initial reluctance stemmed from never seeing yourself adorned in such finery before, and that your perspective would shift upon witnessing your present appearance. But he knew he was wrong as soon as he observed your evident discomfort, your fingers clutching the hanbok's skirt tightly, your gaze averted while your family showered you with adoration.
Confusion enveloped him at that moment. He should have felt elated that his vision had come to fruition; your family's satisfaction with his work signalled the success of his mission. However, instead of joy, remorse consumed him; your family's praises fell on deaf ears, and all he could see was the despair in your hunched shoulders.
"Mr. Kim, this is utter perfection! You've truly outdone yourself! Please join us for dinner tonight before you leave! It's the least we can do for all the work you've put in over the past few weeks!" your father invited, excitement evident in his tone.
Normally, he would reject such offers, but he realised he wasn't ready to leave you just yet. With only you in mind, Hongjoong accepted, "It would be my pleasure, Official Baek."
Seated beside you in the dining hall that night, the dressmaker did his best to engage with your family members. However, his attention kept drifting back to you, noticing your silence as you picked at your food, showing little appetite. He grew concerned seeing you repeatedly reach for the wine glass, drinking more than eating. Haeun's disapproving glare didn't escape his notice.
"That's enough, maknae. No man likes a drunkard for a wife. With your enhanced looks, you'll be attracting a suitor real soon. Now's the time for you to start training to be a proper lady," she scolded.
Hajoon chortled, "Let her. Perhaps she'll be a better wife when drunk. That version of her might be more tolerable than her usual self."
To Hongjoong's dismay, your sister and parents joined in the laughter, despite your brother-in-law and sister-in-law exchanging apologetic glances in your direction. At that moment, he lost his appetite completely as he watched you quietly enduring it all, much like when the maids made fun of you.
Before he could inquire if you were okay, your father addressed him, "Mr. Kim, we apologise on our youngest's behalf for any trouble she may have caused you. Surely, she couldn't have been easy to work with. We will compensate you nicely for all your efforts."
Wanting to use the opportunity to stand up for you, he plastered on his most professional smile and spoke, "Not at all, my lord. Miss Baek has been an absolute pleasure to work with. She's remarkably selfless, unlike many customers who approach me solely for superficial reasons. Despite her reservations about fashion, she wholeheartedly complies for her family's sake. And I deeply respect her for that. The opportunity to make her clothing is reward enough for me. I consider myself fortunate to have such a client."
His response surprised everyone, including you, with its sincerity and absence of flattery or deceit. Your mother blinked, ashamed of herself for laughing moments ago, "Oh, that's reassuring to hear. Perhaps we should give her more credit for her efforts."
The atmosphere turned slightly awkward after the dressmaker's indirect words, making it clear he disapproved of their conversation about you. It seemed as though his remarks had prompted them to reflect on their behaviour, recognising the cruelty of mocking their own family member. Despite your usual straightforwardness, they understood that you truly never meant to hurt anyone's feelings. Guilt washed over them as they realised their earlier actions had been intentional and hurtful.
Absorbing the aftermath of Hongjoong's defence of you, a surge of emotion welled up inside you. His words resonated deeply, touching a part of you that had longed for such validation. No one had ever stood up for you in such a manner, not even your own family, who were supposed to be your closest allies. To hear someone speak so kindly of you, with genuine sincerity, was a rare and precious gift.
Looking up at him, you felt a warmth spread through your chest. Perhaps, in that moment, he had become more than just a dressmaker to you. Maybe, without him even realising it, he had earned the title of friend.
As he gently confiscated the wine glass from your hand and replenished your bowl with food, a tiny smile tugged at the corners of your lips. His gesture felt like a moment of genuine concern that warmed your heart. Whether or not he realised it, he was showing you a level of care you hadn't experienced before, and it felt comforting to be treated with such thoughtfulness.
"Stop drinking so much and eat more, my lady. You'll be sick if you keep up like that," he lectured with a soft grin.
You wondered if this was his way of showing that he cared. Regardless, it felt nice to be looked after, to have someone pay attention to your well-being in such a simple yet meaningful way. As you took a bite of the food he had placed before you, a sense of gratitude washed over you, grateful for his unexpected kindness in a world that had often felt cold and indifferent.
After the meal, he said his farewells to your family but insisted on walking you back to your quarters before departing. Upon reaching your room entrance, you turned to him, saying, "Well, I'm here safe now. You can leave, Mr. Kim."
He scoffed lightly, "Would it hurt to have a little chat before I go?"
Taking a seat on the short staircase leading to your room, he patted the space beside him, gesturing for you to join him, "Come on. I don't know when I'll see you again after this. Let's just... talk."
Your heart felt uneasy at the reminder that today marked the grand finale, and with it over, his job here was considered done. He would have no reason to visit your family estate unless summoned. Reluctantly, you settled down beside him on the step.
Despite his desire to converse, there was a moment of silence as you both pondered what to say. The ambience was filled with the chirping of crickets and the gentle rustle of leaves in the breeze as you sat side by side, your shoulders lightly touching. Mustering his courage, he finally broached the subject, "Be honest with me, Miss Baek. Do you hate my designs? I've noticed your unease since you put them on."
Gazing down at the vibrant hanbok adorning your frame, feeling the weight of the accessories on your head and the unfamiliar thickness of the makeup on your usually bare face, you let out a sigh, "I don't hate them. It's just... honestly, I don't feel worthy of such finery. They're undeniably beautiful, but they don't resonate with who I am. And if this is what it takes to attract a husband, I can't help but wonder... what good is a man who would only value me for my looks? What kind of marriage would that be? The maids had a point. Any man fooled by this appearance would likely end up divorcing me."
Frowning, he turned to you, seeing the rare display of emotion as your eyes glistened with tears, "That's not true, why would you think you're unworthy?" he questioned, genuine concern evident in his voice. Though he wanted to agree that a man like that did not deserve to be with you, he opted to address what truly mattered.
You let out a humourless chuckle, a sound that tugged at his heartstrings. It was unlike you to expose your vulnerabilities in such a manner. Perhaps it was the comfort of Hongjoong's presence or the effects of the alcohol. Or maybe it was a combination of both. You shut your eyes as your world began to spin, whispering, "I've never been good enough for anything or anyone. My parents made that abundantly clear since I was a child. Nobody has ever truly liked me, and don't pretend otherwise, I know you disliked me too. I just... I'm so tired. I want to be loved for who I am. Is that too much to ask...?"
It really isn't, my lady. I'm right here.
Your voice trailed off, a tear tracing down your cheek as you rested your head against his shoulder, succumbing to exhaustion. His heart ached as he hesitated, then gently wrapped an arm around your shoulders. Once he was certain you were truly asleep, he carefully slid his other arm beneath your legs and carried you into your room.
The dressmaker felt as if his life hadn't been the same since taking on that job. It had been nearly a week since he last saw you, the image of your tear-stained sleeping face lingering in his mind as he tucked you into bed. A heavy weight settled in his heart as he silently bid you farewell that night, making his way home with a sense of numbness.
Every day after that felt unsettling.
The initial satisfaction he anticipated from accepting your sister's job offer eluded him. Thoughts of you consumed his mind relentlessly. He wondered about your well-being—whether you were eating properly, sleeping soundly, finding happiness. Despite his yearning to see you again, even just a glimpse to ensure you were okay, he knew he had no reason to visit the Baek estate. The job was completed, and he had received his payment in full. Alongside the surge in his reputation, he had earned widespread recognition for transforming the once pitiful youngest Miss Baek into the stunning beauty you are today.
Consequently, his business flourished. Recognising his inability to change the situation, he threw himself into his work, attempting to maintain a semblance of normalcy. Day after day, he laboured tirelessly in his shop, his pockets filling up, yet his heart growing emptier with each passing moment.
"Huh, who would've thought this day would come? It seems someone could rob you in broad daylight, and you wouldn't even notice," the sudden familiar deep voice snapped him out of his thoughts. Looking up, he found Seonghwa standing right beside his work desk, "What's up with you, Kim Hongjoong? Need a break?"
"I told you, he's been acting all weird since he completed the Baek family's job," Wooyoung chimed in, appearing behind the general.
The dressmaker blinked, "Wh-what are you two idiots doing here?"
Seonghwa scoffed, "Oh wow, is that really the way to greet your friends who care enough to come check on you?"
Flustered, Hongjoong cleared his throat and returned to work, "Why do you have to check on me? I'm doing just fine."
"Are you really? That's not what Yunho told us. It sounds like someone's finally having girl problems," the investigator retorted.
The general grinned, "You know, for someone who gives so much relationship advice, you're rather terrible with matters of the heart when it comes to yourself."
With a sigh, the dressmaker rolled his eyes, "I don't have any problems. You two should worry about yourselves instead. Haven't you heard? Taken men have more issues than single lads like myself." The two had been exceptionally insufferable ever since the younger man had also begun courting his precious Miss Han, always borderline making fun of the rest for still being single.
"Really? So you're not bothered that Miss Baek has finally found a suitor?" Wooyoung teased. At that, Hongjoong dropped the pencil in his hand, head snapping up with wide eyes, "What did you say?"
His friends exchanged knowing grins before the younger one repeated, "I said, the youngest miss of the Baek family has finally found a suitor. The eldest son of the Yoon family has asked for her hand in marriage."
The dressmaker felt his heart drop, "The Yoon family...? Aren't they the ones on the verge of bankruptcy?"
Seonghwa nodded, "That's correct. I guess they must be taking the opportunity to forge a union with the Baek family to save themselves financially. I suppose it wouldn't be so bad now that the youngest miss is finally pretty enough to marry."
"Don't you dare say that about her; she's perfect the way she was. Her appearance doesn't define her," Hongjoong growled, glowering at his friend for the first time.
Rather than reacting negatively, his friends applauded his response, the older man smirking, "Congratulations, you're in love."
"I'm not—"
Wooyoung sighed in exasperation, "Listen, it doesn't matter to us whether you think you're in love or not. But if you aren't, I suppose it wouldn't matter that today is the day the Baek and Yoon families formalise the engagement. Do what you will with that information; we have a double date to enjoy."
At that moment, he came to the realisation that what he had been feeling all along was love. Looking back, he should have recognised the signs from the very beginning; despite his irritation with you, genuine anger never surfaced. The incessant thoughts of you had been consuming every moment of his life, a clear indicator in hindsight. Yet, he couldn't fathom why he had persisted in denying it. It was evident that he wasn't fooling anyone except himself.
The dressmaker's cheeks flushed with embarrassment as he watched his friends leave his shop, "W-wait!" he called out, his voice tinged with a hint of nervousness, "Thanks, guys. I appreciate the help."
With a playful wink, the general teased, "Atta boy, go get your girl. I'm looking forward to making it a triple date next time."
God, I sure hope she feels the same.
Meanwhile, you wandered through the gardens of your estate, accompanied by Byungho, the eldest son of the Yoon family and your soon-to-be fiancé, a sense of unease lingered within you. The suddenness of his proposal, along with his family's involvement, left you in a state of shock. While you had anticipated attracting suitors after your makeover, you hadn't expected everything to unfold in less than a week. Despite Byungho's outward appearance of kindness, you didn't know how to feel about spending the rest of your life with him.
Besides, you weren't entirely clueless.
You'd heard all the rumours circulating about his family's financial troubles, stemming from a failed business venture that had left them on the brink of bankruptcy. You understood that his proposal wasn't solely motivated by your newfound beauty; rather, you were seen as a solution to his family's predicament. And since he was still unmarried, it would be like killing two birds with one stone.
Even as you walked alongside the man who was supposed to be your future husband, your thoughts were consumed by a certain dressmaker. Amidst the familiar scenery of the garden, memories of your shared moments played on a loop in your mind.
Like the cat you had rescued and set free, you couldn't help but wonder about both of them—the stray animal and its saviour. Did he ever think of you, even fleetingly? The maids had recounted the events of your final night with him; how he had carried you back to your room and tucked you in with care. You regretted being influenced by alcohol, wishing you had bid him a proper farewell.
Now, you knew you would never see him again—the first person to show you genuine kindness despite a rocky start, the first to truly care, the first you had considered a friend... and perhaps more.
I miss you, Kim Hongjoong.
Little did you know, he stood just outside the entrance to your family estate, struggling to catch his breath. He pleaded with the guards stationed at the gate, conveying the urgency of his situation, "Please, I left behind a crucial tool that I need to retrieve."
"We apologise, Mr. Kim, but the Baek family is hosting important guests today, and we cannot permit entry to outsiders without a valid reason. Perhaps you could return tomorrow," the guard explained respectfully, bowing his head in apology.
As he regained his composure, a sense of desperation gripped him. He knew exactly who those guests were and the purpose of their visit. He couldn't afford to wait until tomorrow; he had to be there to stop it all now. However, he couldn't reveal the true reason to the guards, fearing it would only lead to his expulsion from the premises.
Summoning his typically fearless demeanour, he planted his hands on his hips and fixed the guard with an unamused stare, "Listen, I have a significant client waiting on her hanbok for tomorrow. If I lose her business because of this delay, will you take responsibility for my losses? I doubt your salary could cover the cost. So, soldier, are you prepared to shoulder that burden?"
The guard swallowed nervously, "I-I..."
Rolling his eyes, Hongjoong pressed on, "All I need is a moment to retrieve my belongings. What harm could my brief presence possibly cause? Do you think the guests will be bothered by a mere dressmaker dropping by to pick up his things?"
Lord forgive me for deceiving this poor man.
Finally relenting, the guard stepped aside, "I suppose you have a point, sir. My apologies."
As soon as he was out of the guard's line of sight, he moved stealthily like a spy. The last thing he wanted was to draw attention to himself and face a barrage of questions. His heart raced in his chest as he scanned every corner frantically in search of you. Inside, the living hall buzzed with activity, hosting both your family and the Yoons. However, you and the eldest Yoon son were conspicuously absent. Panic and protectiveness surged within him at the thought of you being alone with another man.
He felt a wave of relief wash over him when he discovered your quarters were vacant. The mere thought of finding you with another man in your room made his stomach churn with jealousy. Passing by the library, he was once again grateful to find it deserted. These were sacred spaces shared only between the two of you, and he refused to let anyone else intrude upon them.
Finally, a sense of calm settled over him when he spotted you in the garden with your prospective betrothed. Taking cover behind a nearby tree, he strained to eavesdrop on your conversation while contemplating his next move. Walking up to you and blurting out his feelings like a madman seemed out of the question. Not only would it be reckless, but he also had to consider what your family would think of him if he acted so impulsively.
He needed to devise a careful plan of action.
Perking up, his attention sharpened as he heard the eldest Yoon son's words to you, "My lady, we've been here for a while. Would you perhaps like to have some tea in a more... secluded spot?"
Hongjoong's blood ran cold at the suggestion, his fists tightening involuntarily until he heard your firm response, "I'm not in the mood for tea, Byungho. If you want some, feel free to go ahead and enjoy it yourself. I'll be right here." A surge of pride swelled within him at your characteristic straightforwardness.
That's my girl, you tell him.
A tense silence hung in the air before Byungho's frustration reached its boiling point, "Enough of this, I've had it with you," he burst out, "Do you honestly believe that just because you've become more attractive, you're suddenly something special? Do you know what men outside are saying about you? Sure, you finally look pretty enough to marry, but they would have considered you if only you were a couple of years younger. Take a good look at yourself in the mirror, you're old. Be grateful I'm willing to marry you. You have no right to be playing Ice Princess with me right now, you hear me?"
The dressmaker's blood boiled as he listened to Byungho's disrespectful tirade against you. Unable to contain his anger any longer, he emerged from his hiding spot and strode purposefully toward the two of you.
"Look who's talking," he interjected, his voice laced with fury, "If she's so undesirable, why the hell are you and your family here begging to have her hand in marriage?" He narrowed his eyes at the bastard, his words dripping with disdain, "Look at yourself, Yoon Byungho. You're going broke and are relying on a woman to save yourself. I don't think you should be the one to talk."
Byungho's face turned red with anger as he shot back, "Who the hell do you think you are? Wait a minute, I know you. Aren't you just a lowly dressmaker? You have no right to speak to me like that."
But Hongjoong stood his ground, undeterred by Byungho's attempts to intimidate him, "I may be a dressmaker, but at least I have the decency to respect others," he retorted, "Unlike you, who seems to think you can treat people however you please just because of your family name. Would you prefer to back off on your own, or would you like me to repeat your earlier words to Official and Lady Baek word for word? Do you reckon they'd still want such a son-in-law?"
As the tension between them escalated, you watched in shock, unsure of what to make of the confrontation unfolding before you.
You didn't know how to react when Byungho scoffed in disbelief, "Whatever, I can't stand her anyway," he said before turning to you, "And you, don't come crying to me when you can't find someone to marry."
"Oh, don't you worry, she won't," the dressmaker sneered, watching the despicable man huff and stalk off.
Still in a state of shock, you blinked rapidly, trying to process Hongjoong's sudden appearance and his unexpected action in ending your engagement so abruptly, "M-Mr. Kim...? What have you done?"
He narrowed his eyes at you, "What have I done? More like, what are you doing, woman?" he retorted.
"I haven't done anything," you fought back.
"Exactly! Were you really just going to marry that douche of a man if I hadn't shown up? Even after he said those things to you? Don't you want to be happy?" he questioned.
Massaging your temples, you struggled to understand his point, "I don't get it, Mr. Kim. What are you trying to say? You know better than anyone my happiness never mattered."
He ignored your question, "Of course, it matters! And what the hell are you wearing?!"
Confused, you looked down at the hanbok you were wearing, one of his designs, "What do you mean? This is your—"
"Only wear what you want and do what you want! Why should you be so unhappy? This is your life!" he interrupted, frustrated.
Exasperated, you sighed, "In case you haven't been paying attention, no man will ever want me if I were to—"
He cut you off, gripping your shoulders firmly as he looked into your eyes, "I do! I want to be with you, okay? Your happiness matters to me more than anything else!" he declared before bravely pulling you into his arms. He felt like he could finally breathe again when you lifted your arms to hug him back.
A week had passed since that pivotal moment, and it was remarkable how one single moment could alter the course of your life. Hongjoong's unexpected intervention had changed everything. Byungho's decision to call off the engagement had left both families in shock, particularly his own, given their desperate need for financial assistance. The bastard was more keen to preserve his reputation, fearful of the repercussions of his outburst towards you. Strangely, your family seemed somewhat relieved by the turn of events, although the reasons behind their reaction remained unclear.
Eventually, it became clear when the dressmaker approached them, seeking permission to court you. The knowing grins exchanged among your family members answered your unspoken questions.
Haeun's laughter, unexpected to both you and Hongjoong, was joined by Hajoon's, "I knew it! I knew there was something between you two! Your actions spoke volumes, Mr. Kim, especially your protectiveness towards her that night. We've been waiting for you to realise it."
Your parents nodded, "You have our blessing, Mr. Kim. So long as our youngest is happy. But ultimately, it's her consent that truly matters. You should ask her if she's willing."
The dressmaker hesitated, his heart pounding in his chest as he reached for your hand, "I did ask her..." His nerves eased when you willingly intertwined your fingers with his, "And she said yes."
And ever since that moment, he hadn't let you go for long, always claiming to miss you. Though you were too shy to admit it aloud, you felt the same. Now, as you stroll along the bustling streets of town for the first time in what feels like forever, his hand securely holding yours, he shows you around, "Come on, beautiful. There's still so much to see."
He slowed his pace, noticing the slightly overwhelmed expression on your face, and wrapped an arm around your shoulder, "Are you feeling alright, darling?" he asked, scanning the surroundings, wondering if you were perhaps feeling insecure due to any stares, "Is it the hanbok? I promise I'll make an even simpler version next time."
You shook your head immediately, "What? No! I like this, Joong, I really do," you said, smiling down at the simple yet elegant pastel-coloured fabric he had picked especially for you. He had replaced all the previous ones he made for you with a new batch of minimalistic hanboks you'd prefer.
Narrowing his eyes suspiciously, he persisted, "Are you sure? You know you can tell me anything."
You chuckled softly, and he felt a flutter in his chest at the sight of your beautiful smile, "Of course, you know I can't lie to save my life."
His laughter echoed with realisation, "That's true, how could I forget?"
Giving his hand a gentle squeeze, you leaned your head against his shoulder, your favourite spot, "I was just thinking..."
"About what?"
You blushed, "About us."
As you reached a serene little bridge spanning over a gentle river, you both paused to admire the tranquil scene below, leaning against the ledge side by side, "What about us?" he asked.
Turning to meet his gaze, you softened, "I just find it amusing how we ended up like this, together. I recall how much you couldn't stand me when we first met, and I thought I'd never see you again once the makeover was done. Yet... here you are."
He grinned warmly, leaning in to rest his forehead against yours, "Here I am, my darling. I was an idiot then, but I have no intention of ever leaving your side again."
Your heart brimmed with joy, a sensation you never thought you'd have the pleasure of experiencing. Similarly, Hongjoong felt a sense of pride as he observed you gradually opening up, becoming more at ease in expressing your emotions around him. He was proud of the progress you had made.
Caught up in the moment, he summoned the courage to finally kiss you. Truth be told, he had been searching for the right moment to share your first kiss but wanted to respect your boundaries. He knew you must have been new to all this, and to be fair, he wasn't much more experienced than you. While he had seen many couples throughout his life and displays of affection were nothing new to him, he lacked firsthand experience. He often wondered when would be the right time to take such a step.
Sensing his gaze fixed on your lips, your breath caught in your throat. Was the moment finally here? Were you about to share your first kiss? You closed your eyes instinctively as he leaned in, taking it as his cue to press his lips against yours.
Here goes nothing.
As your lips met, a rush of euphoria swept through him when he felt you kissing him back softly, enjoying the sensation of your lips on his. Slowly pulling back, you both broke into shy smiles, "That felt nice," he said, and you nodded in agreement, "It really did." Just as he leaned down again, intent on kissing you once more, you were both snapped out of your trance by the sound of a child yelling for help.
Reaching for his hand, you immediately pulled him towards the source of the commotion, only to find a little girl pointing to the top of a tree, "Help, please, somebody help my poor little kitty!"
You couldn't help but burst into giggles at the familiar scene as Hongjoong shook his head, "Nope, absolutely not. Someone else can help her," Pouting, you tugged at his arm, "Please, Joong? We have to help the poor thing! I'll give you a kiss when you do."
His jaw dropped before determination filled his being, "You know what? Deal. You best not go back on your words, woman."
Rolling up his sleeves, he approached the tree with a shake of his head in disbelief, "Goodness, the things I do for her," he muttered. But as he glanced back and saw the beautiful smile on your face, he realised he would be willing to save a thousand, no—a million more cats if that's what it takes to make you smile like that every day.
Anything to make you happy, darling.
If you haven't already read the first bonus chapter of TWTHH, please do so soon! I'll be working on the second bonus chapter after this hehe also, I hope you're all excited for Yunho's spinoff next!
As always, thank you for reading and let me know your thoughts! <3
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#edenesth#the way to this heart#stitched hearts#twthh spinoff#ateez#ateez fanfic#ateez fanfiction#kim hongjoong#ateez hongjoong#historical au#joseon era#hongjoong x reader#hongjoong x you#ateez fic
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🏖️ Summer Sunshine Fics
Hey everyone! I want to start by saying thank you so much to everyone who participated - it was so much fun to write alongside you all, and I can’t wait to share everyone’s hard work. You are so appreciated, and the diversity only makes these events better.
Without further ado, here are all of the entries + recs for the Summer Sunshine Challenge! ☀️
☀️ SFW S.R./Reader ☀️
Sleepy Sunshine by @ssahopelessly: [Fem] After time in the sun, Reader wants a nap, but Spencer is more concerned about the signs of heat exhaustion.
Check You for Ticks by @andiebeaword: [Fem] Reader gets set up to share a tent (and a sleeping bag) with Spencer.
Embarrassed by @babymetaldoll: [Fem] The annual FBI beach trip could be the perfect place to make things even more awkward between Spencer and Reader.
Little Miss Reid, Entrepreneur by @/babymetaldoll: [Fem] Spencer and Reader help their daughter with her lemonade stand. So does the BAU.
Heat Stroke by @0and0its0doctor0: [Fem] Reader is self-conscious about the scars on her arms so she wear long sleeves in the heat.
Beach by @c-m-stuff: [Fem] Reader and Spencer are married. They have a beautiful daughter, and they all are going on vacation.
Pyrotechnics by me: [GN] Reader has a hard time on Fourth of July, and Spencer helps them fall in love with fireworks again.
Summer Nights by @foxy-eva: [GN] Summer may come to an end but the kisses Spencer shares with you will not.
Check below for more Spencer Reid fics, as well as Hotchgan, Penemily, Temily, and several Gen fics!
☀️ NSFW S.R./Reader ☀️
Sunscreen & Statistics by me: [Fem] Reader asks for Spencer’s help putting on sunscreen (and rinsing off).
Lost Time by me: [Fem] Reader and Spencer spend mandatory leave on the vacation Spencer never had.
Nude Beach by @foxy-eva: [Fem] Reader finally convinces Spencer to go to the beach with her. Turns out it's a nude beach.
Summer in the City by @/foxy-eva: [Fem] Having a nearly naked roommate made the heatwave much more tolerable for Spencer.
In This Diary by @fortheloveofwonderland: [Fem] Spencer was hoping to relax before his started his new job at the BAU, but best laid plans often go awry.
Summer Heat by @/fortheloveofwonderland: [Fem] The BAU must undertake a team building hike in the woods. Reader and Spencer get themselves lost and have to find a way to pass the time.
Summertime Service by @pinkiceee-prose: [Fem] Reader throws the BAU team a summer barbeque feast. Spencer is moved by her hard work and decides to show his gratitude.
Popsicle Love by @reidmotif: [Fem] Reader and Spencer are at a ridiculously hot precinct and getting on each other's nerves. Reader realizes she can get back at him using a certain sweet treat.
Spencer Reid Doesn't Know How to Swim by @reidsfav: No one knows that Spencer doesn't know how to swim and Reader is willing to help him keep it that way.
Just Hanging Out by @reiderwriter: [Fem] Reader finds herself at Rossi's mansion for a big summer barbeque. A hammock catches Reader's eye.
Everyone Looks Better in a Sundress by @/reiderwriter: [GN!AFAB] The AC at the BAU breaks during a heatwave, and Reader decides the FBI’s dress code is merely a suggestion.
☀️ Other Pairings ☀️
The Shape You Take by @masterwords: Hotchgan. Hotch is dwelling on an empty nest. Morgan has just the ticket: sea, sand, food and naps. While exploring a nude beach one night they find a little more than they bargained for.
July by @gaelic-symphony: Temily. The couple takes a trip to the beach.
August by @/gaelic-symphony: Temily. The couple rides out a summer storm.
Watermelon Sugar by @putting-the-bi-in-bau: [NSFW] Penemily. Emily has spent her vacation trying - and failing - to keep her eyes off Penelope while she walks around the house in nothing but her underwear.
Pool Parties and Secrets by @alicewonderao3: Spencer/Fem!OC. Swimming can be both fun and scary all at the same time.
☀️ Gen/Platonic ☀️
A Very Serious Fight by @alluring-andraya: Platonic. The team is very lighthearted, but one thing they do take seriously other than their jobs, is water gun/balloon fights.
Scars by @codename-mom: Hotch. Jessica offered Aaron to come to the beach with her and Jack, but there is something she doesn't know that stops him.
Baseball and Barbecue by @writing-till-i-run-out-of-time: Everyone went over to Rossi's for a family fun day of barbecue. Then something happens to Spencer.
Lemon-aide to the Rescue by @/PandorasDreaming [Ao3]: Henry, Michael, and Jack make their first lemonade stand but disaster strikes. They have some pretty important friends backing their first business investment!
Happy reading!
#spencer reid#spencer reid fanfic#spencer reid smut#spencer reid fanfiction#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid imagine#spencer reid x y/n#spencer reid x you#criminal minds#criminal minds fanfic#criminal minds fanfiction#criminal minds smut#hotchgan#penemily#temily#aaron hotchner#gen fic#criminal minds writing challenge#fic recommendation#rec list
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today of all days | vernon
(the lull of the new year never really comes for you, which is fine. it's better to be busy. this year, you're a little too busy planning something else to worry much about valentine's day. It's never been your favorite holiday anyway. but, could your boyfriend have forgotten in entirely?)
pairing: vernon x afab!reader
genre: est. relationship, non-idol!au | smut, slight angst, fluff
rating: explicit, minors DNI
word count: ~4.6k
warnings: mentions of food, there's a little angst, but it's mostly miscommunication, kissing, oral sex (m & f receiving), fingering, marking, unprotected sex (don't do this without talking about it), multiple orgasms, slight overstimulation, i think that's it
a/n: happy valentine's day to the always wonderful, absolutely amazing @wonwussy 💕 it's been so much fun to get to write this for you. i hope you enjoy it! this is part of @svthub's cupid for you valentine's exchange organized by my bby @wongyuseokie (who is very amazing and also made the banner & divider). happy valentine's (and carat day)!
There’s usually kind of a lull at the beginning of the new year. Like everyone decides that after the holidays, you’re due for a break. People try to work on their resolutions, businesses expect to see the drop off in their sales. Everything just feels more peaceful. It’s that calm before the storm when everything picks up again.
Not for you, though. At least not this year. February brings Valentine’s Day and your boyfriend’s birthday. You don’t really care that much about the former. It’s nice to have someone to celebrate with, and you’re sure the two of you will do something, but it’s nothing crazy. As long as you have him and a quiet night in, you’re good. It’s the latter of the two things that’s keeping an otherwise peaceful time from being peaceful.
Here’s the thing. Vernon isn’t one to make a big deal of his birthday, never has been. He feels similar to the way you feel about Valentine’s Day. He likes to do something to mark the passing of time, definitely enjoys the presents, but doesn’t feel the need for it to be some huge thing. It’s a little difficult, too, because he’s got another friend with the same birthday. For the years that they’ve been friends, they’ve always tried to work it around each other. Seokmin is a year older and feels a little more strongly about birthdays as something that should be celebrated. Somehow, that led to this year. A coordinated birthday for the two of them with all their friends there to celebrate the both of them. Two different cakes, two different contributions to the menu, and twice as many people to coordinate with.
To say it’s been a bit of a headache is an understatement.
You love Vernon. He’s been your person for over two years and you wouldn’t trade him for the world. You also love to plan things for other people as a way to show them how much you care. This has just been a bigger undertaking than you imagined. Especially when you have to keep the party under wraps. Vernon knows you’re doing something with a group of friends. He thinks it’s only a small group. But, he’ll appreciate it all the same. Just like he seems to appreciate everything that you do.
“Babe,” Vernon calls from the living room. He’s in the middle of gaming with Wonwoo, connected by their headsets.
“Yeah?” you answer.
“Wonwoo says that I’m gonna get in trouble for not planning some big thing for Valentine’s,” Vernon tells you.
You can hear the protests from Vernon even through the headset, which makes you chuckle. “As long as we get to cook something together and have a night in, I’m good.”
“See?” Vernon says triumphantly. There’s a pause where Wonwoo must be asking something. “Oh, yeah, I’m definitely getting a gift.”
“What?” you ask with clear surprise. Gifts were not part of the plan for this year.
“It’s nothing big, but I’ve got the perfect idea,” Vernon says with a familiar look of mischief.
“Oh no, no you are not,” you counter. He bursts out in a cackle. “Vernon, you are not getting strawberry flavored condoms for Valentine’s Day. We don’t even use condoms.”
The laugh through Vernon’s headset is just as loud. You would probably be embarrassed if it was anyone else, but Wonwoo has been in both of your lives long enough that most barriers have been erased.
“No, don’t worry, that wasn’t actually it. I have a plan,” Vernon says and you watch him suspiciously. “Promise!”
You decide to let it lie for the time being. At least partly, because you don’t want to keep standing there while he’s playing video games. Partly because you knew it meant he would be distracted enough that you could sneak off to the bedroom to make a call about the party.
Jeonghan had not been your first choice for a party planning committee because sometimes it’s hard to get an actual thought out of him. You’re not always sure what he’s thinking. But, he’s Seokmin’s best friend and one of the best schemers you know. Thankfully, these days he really only uses his talents for good. Well, it would be thankfully if you didn’t harbor a grudge over a prank he played when you first met.
Miraculously, Jeonghan is also free and willing to do some final planning. It’s that stage where the final group of friends get clued in. Some friends, who shall remain nameless, had to find out much closer to the day. They just couldn’t be trusted to keep the secret. You’re actually impressed that you’ve managed to keep it from Vernon and Seokmin. You confirm that Vernon doesn’t know. He would have absolutely told you. Jeonghan also confirms that Seokmin doesn’t know because he can’t keep a secret either.
When you wander back out into the living room, Vernon is still very engrossed in his game. You kiss the top of his head, watch the small smile with his eyes trained on the screen, and plop down at the other end of the couch. You prop your computer on your lap and reach for your headphones when Vernon turns to you between matches.
“Wanna order in for dinner?” he asks and you smile.
“Oh from that place around the corner?” you suggest. Vernon rolls his eyes without any real annoyance. It’s your favorite place.
“Whatever you want, babe,” he says and turns back to the game.
It’s easy, not only because you like it, but also since you know what he orders there. He’s kind of a creature of habit. Maybe you are too, since you always want to order from the same place. It’ll give you a chance to watch a few things while waiting as well as giving Vernon the chance to keep playing with Wonwoo. The gaming is always seamless for them after years of working together.
When the food arrives, Vernon finishes his last game so that he can eat with you. It’s one of the things you love about him. He’s so thoughtful with things like that. When you first moved in with him, you were a little worried. You had never lived with a partner and weren’t sure how to navigate it. As it turns out, with the right person, it’s pretty easy. You leave each other to do your own things and then come together after.
“You’re sure you’re okay with a quiet Valentine’s Day?” he asks when you curl into him after dinner.
“It’s a little late if I’m not considering it’s in two days,” you say with a light laugh.
“I’m being serious,” he says.
“I’m good, Vernon. I’ve got you and we’re going to make something together,” you say.
“I promise not to burn down the kitchen,” he assures you.
“You’ve been getting a lot better,” you say. “Plus, we also have dinner this weekend for your birthday.”
“We don’t really have to do anything crazy for my birthday, you know. It’s so close to Valentine’s Day and…” Vernon trails off before you press a kiss to his lips.
“I love to celebrate your birthday. It’s another year of you and everyone should be thankful for that,” you say.
Valentine’s morning comes bright and early. Sun streams through the cracks in your shades. Not quite enough to wake you up, but enough for you to know that it’s morning. You smile and stretch out, thinking it’s probably earlier than you need to be up. As you’re considering waking Vernon up to celebrate the day when you register an emptiness.
You’re the only one in the bed.
You open your eyes and confirm what you already knew. Vernon isn’t in bed with you. The door to the bathroom is open and the light is off, so he’s not in there either. Although you prefer to lay in bed to wake up, curiosity gets the better of you and propels you out of bed to the living room. The entire apartment is quiet, still. Well, still apart from your cat that’s weaving between your legs. He doesn’t seem hungry, so you think he’s just wondering what you’re doing. It’s odd that he would have left the apartment so early in the morning.
Padding back to the bedroom, you find your phone on the nightstand, plugged in like it always is. When you unlock it, you have a myriad of messages and notifications. Conspicuously absent, though, is a message from your boyfriend. There’s nothing to tell you where he is or went or could be. Which is odd, yes, but mostly it just makes you a little irritated. Sure, you don’t ever want to make a big deal out of Valentine’s Day. It’s plenty to spend the day with someone you love that loves you back.
Vernon can be a little spacy at times. It’s not his best quality, but it’s also impossibly endearing. Maybe it’s because you know how much he’s thinking about when he’s got that look like he’s never had a thought in his life. It also makes him really chill, which matches you well. He doesn’t always have to be going or doing something. But, he’ll just as happily go out and be your shield because he’s much more of a people person than you are.
All this to say, there’s part of you that wonders if the holiday just slipped his mind. It’s not like it’s a big deal, you said as much to him. But, you still expect something. Even if it’s just to know where he is so early in the morning. You hate that you wonder if he forgot because you trust Vernon with your life. He can get distracted sometimes. One time, he got so caught up in a project that he entirely forgot dinner plans with his friends.
The mature thing to do would be to send him a text and ask where he is or even to wish him a happy Valentine’s Day. You’re not feeling especially mature, though. And you feel very justified in that annoyance because he’s the one that left early. He should be the one to let you know where he is. It should not be on you.
Trying to push the thoughts of Vernon out of your mind, you get ready for the day. Opt to leave earlier so you can buy yourself something to eat and some coffee on the way. By the time you reach work, you’re even more irritated rather than calmer. Every radio station was playing love songs that fit the genre. Every host seems to want to know what people’s plans are for the day. The coffee shop by your office was decorated in red, white, and pink hearts with all sorts of specials for the day. When you head into the office, it only gets worse. People have flowers on their desks, are exchanging happy wishes, talking about how they can’t wait to get out of work for their plans. Some people are spending it with partners, others are spending it with friends. Either way, everyone seems to have plans that are better than whatever will be waiting when you get home. Why did Vernon have to pick today of all days to be forgetful?
Your work best friend stops by your desk with the typical cup of coffee mid morning and stops in his tracks when he senses your mood.
“What’s wrong with your face?” Minho asks.
“Wow, hello to you too,” you respond when you take the coffee from him.
“You seem like you’re in a bad mood,” he says.
“Maybe I am,” you answer.
“But, it’s Valentine’s Day and you have, like, the most perfect boyfriend. What’s there to be mad about?” he asks.
“Can’t be the most perfect boyfriend if he was gone before I woke up and didn’t even text me to say anything,” you say with all the irritation you feel.
That catches Minho’s attention. “I’m sorry, what?”
“I woke up and the bed was empty. No note. No text. Just empty,” you say.
“And you haven’t heard from him?” Minho presses.
“No,” you say, only to be distracted by your phone lighting up.
“Looks like a message from him,” he observes.
You quickly glance at your phone, hating how eager you feel just to hear something from him. It’s disappointing, though.
Vernon: sorry that i wasn’t there when you woke up, i had a last minute errand
Vernon: when do you think you’ll be home from work?
Instead of telling Minho what happened, you just hand your phone over to him. His grimace says all you need to know. It’s not an overreaction.
“That’s…all he’s said to you today?” he asks.
“You can scroll to see,” you say because he still has your phone.
“No thanks,” Minho says with a laugh. “I don’t wanna accidentally see something.”
“It was one time,” you say, snatching your phone back with an eye roll.
“And I’m still scarred,” he says. “What are you going to say back?”
“Nothing,” you say.
“But…” he starts.
“No, I’m not saying anything. I know I’m chill about this holiday, but to not even say anything? And what errand does he have to do at 7 in the morning?” you ask, more irritated that you had been.
“If you want to hold onto a grudge, who am I to stop you?” he asks when he stands. “Let me know if he manages to get out of the dog house.”
With that comment, he’s off to his own desk. It usually goes something like this every day anyway. Minho shows up with coffee for you, looking to see what you have to say. Even though he’s the one that has the best gossip. Sometimes, he just wants someone to share it with. It’s a nice reprieve from your irritation. One that he repeats in the afternoon, which is a break from the norm. Unfortunately, the irritation that settles in his wake is worse than before he stops by.
You consider staying at work late when the end of the day comes. It’s not like you’re in a rush to head home. There’s also a part of you that wants to punish Vernon for forgetting a holiday that you don’t even care that much about. (Okay, maybe you care, but that’s the whole point of having someone you love that also loves you to spend it with.) Staying late by yourself feels even worse when nobody else from the office is. Everyone seems to be out the door as soon as the day ends. And, despite not answering any of Vernon’s messages, you know he’s home. At least it’ll give you the chance to figure out how to approach this.
The drive home gives you a chance to run through all sorts of conversations in your head. You’re still stewing, a bit, because you’re upset at how the day went. But, you’re also preparing yourself to have a potentially difficult conversation with Vernon. Of course, he’ll be receptive to your feelings. He always is. It’s more that you’re frustrated it happened in the first place and don’t want your feelings to seem invalid.
All of that goes out the window the second you step into your apartment. The lights are low, so it takes your eyes a second to adjust. When they do, however, you see that Vernon has transformed your living room into a scene from your favorite video game. It’s like stepping into another world. Every little detail is so carefully thought out that you can’t even appreciate it all in one look. Your feet carry you forward to examine the small things. The ones that very obviously took extra effort. You’re so busy appreciating it all that you don’t even notice Vernon coming in from the kitchen.
“I know we said no presents, but I wanted to do this anyway. Happy Valentine’s Day,” he says, pulling you out of your head.
“How did you…” you ask, unable to even finish the question.
“I found someone who had this whole set for their ex and wanted to get rid of it. He was practically giving it away, but I had to go pick it up like 2 hours away,” he says.
You look around and can tell the level of care that went into creating this. “That’s why you were gone when I woke up?”
“Yeah, I left you notes on breakfast in the fridge and coffee in the microwave, but I guess you didn’t see those,” he says.
“I’m so sorry,” you say and don’t even realize that tears started to fall until Vernon’s pulling you into his arms.
“It’s fine, what are you sorry for?” he asks, holding you tightly.
“I spent the whole day thinking you forgot Valentine’s Day and being mad. That’s why I didn’t answer your texts,” you say.
“I just figured it was a busy day and you were excited to get home,” Vernon says.
“I’m so sorry,” you repeat.
He pulls back so that he can look down at you. Wipes the tears gently away from under your eyes. “It’s fine, babe. I’m not upset at you when I can be forgetful.”
Nobody has ever done something like this for you. You can’t imagine how long it took to transform the living room this way. There aren’t any words you can think of to express how much it all means to you, so you just press your lips against his. Throw your hands around his neck to keep him close to you. He’s surprised, at least for a second, before he pulls you in tighter against him and kisses you back. It’s not the time to talk, at least not right now. How could you have thought this man would ever forget?
“Can I show you what I was thinking about before I realized you were already gone this morning?” you ask when you break the kiss.
“Should I be concerned?” he asks.
“Just trust me,” you say and pull him into the bedroom with you.
Any hesitations that he may have had disappear when you resume kissing him. Your fingers nimbly undo his pants so that you can slide them down his legs. The clothes come flying off in a flurry from there, far quicker than usual for the two of you. There’s just an urgency given the way the day went. Neither of you seems to want to let your lips leave the other. As Vernon kisses down your neck, you take the opportunity to push him back onto the bed.
It’s the first time you take a second and you appreciate how beautiful he is laying on the bed. The lean lines of his muscle, his eyes hungry as they drink your body in, the way his cock rests heavily on his stomach. You need to do something, though. You nudge his legs apart as you settle yourself onto the bed between them.
“You don’t have to…” he starts and you’re quick to cut him off.
“I want to,” you insist.
And you do. You take his cock into your hand and lick a stripe up it. It’s not enough, though, so you spit into your hand so you can run it along his length. He shudders under your touch. Once you wrap your lips around his tip, you pull a groan out of him. For just a second, his eyes close and his head lolls back on the pillow. It’s so pretty to watch him from this angle. To know that this man, usually so relaxed and chill, is so wound up under your power. It’s not long before he’s watching you, though. Letting out a stream of praise for how good you look with his cock in your mouth. How it turns him on, how you know just how to use your tongue. You hollow out your cheeks and it’s more than he can take.
Vernon pulls you up so that he can kiss you, so hard that you lose your breath. You’re a little off balance, which makes it easier for him to flip your positions. Now he’s the one between your legs. That same fervor is back when he spreads your lips so he can lick up your entrance. He’s always been insanely good with his mouth. It’s actually unfair. When his thumb circles your clit, you see stars for a second and arch your back into his mouth. All you can do is watch as he works his tongue in and out of your cunt. The thumb on your clit is bordering on too much sensation. Makes it hard for you to watch him even though you love the sight of him between your legs.
“Fuck, Vernon, I need more,” you whine.
“I should make you draw it out,” he says, still so close to your pussy that you can feel his breath.
“Please, Vernon, please,” you beg. You know it’ll make him cave.
“Since you asked so nicely,” he answers.
He runs his fingers through your folds before sliding one into your pussy. The moment his mouth finds your clit, he inserts a second finger and pumps into you at a punishing pace. It’s everything you can do not to squirm under his efforts. As it is, the words coming out of your mouth are entirely incoherent. What you want to say is that he’s a god with both his mouth and his fingers. That he knows just how to fit you where you need him most. That nobody has ever felt as good as him.
What you manage to yell out: “Oh my fucking god, I’m gonna come.”
Vernon hums against your clit and it’s all too much. Your release is nearly instant. You don’t even notice how he guides you through your high or that he doesn’t remove his fingers until your body stops shaking. Miss the way he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand before kissing you. Not that you would mind. His lips wander down your neck to your chest, kissing all the way. He loves your breasts, loves the soft skin there. Loves to nip and watch the way you react. Most of all, he loves to leave marks there. Even if you won’t let him mark you where other people can see (at least, not often), you’ll always let him mark up your chest. He roughly sucks a mark into your sensitive skin and you squirm.
Any other time, you would let him enjoy it. Let him take his time. Not today. You need to feel him. Need to have that connection with him. He seems to realize it too.
“Roll over on your side,” he directs.
You hasten to do exactly what he asks. He slides right in behind you and you bring your leg forward a little so that it’ll be easier on him. One of his arms slides under your neck. The other lines his cock up at your entrance. He presses lightly, at least at first, giving you time before he’s fully inside you. No matter how many times you and Vernon fuck, you’ll never be fully prepared for the way he feels. It’s the most perfect type of full. Just enough of a stretch without it being overwhelming.
It’s only a second before he starts moving, with his hand on your stomach. Not too fast. Just enough to give you the relief that you need. Not enough that it’s going to push you over the edge again. You’re still sensitive, though. The connectedness of your bodies is exactly what you need. It’s intimate in all the ways that you couldn’t tell him that you needed. But, he knows. Of course, he knows. This man knows you better than anyone else, a fact clear in how he thrusts into you.
Vernon’s free hand moves from your stomach up to your breast. He rolls your nipple between his fingers and you groan out. That’s the other best part about your relationship with Vernon. There isn’t a need for constant communication during sex. He knows what you like and you know what he likes. He knows how to interrupt your moans and your pleas. Knows when to pick up the pace.
It’s entirely too soon when you feel your second orgasm coming on. “I’m close, oh my god.”
“I know, baby, just come for me,” Vernon urges as he continues to thrust hard into you.
Despite that, you try to hold out because you know that he’s not there yet, can feel it in the way he fucks into you. It’s a losing battle, though, and you end up coming even harder than the first time. Vernon fucks through your high before slowing down to give you a minute to breath. Always so considerate of what you need.
“It’s okay, keep going,” you urge.
He doesn’t have to ask if you’re sure, he can feel it in the way you clench around him. Makes him groan as he moves again. You’re still a little out of it from the two orgasms, so it doesn’t register just how sensitive you are. You tilt your head so that you can kiss him. Catch all his groans with your lips. Partly since you know how much the intimacy of it all means to him. Know that it’ll send him over the edge.
A minute later it does just that. Even though you feel spent, he manages to pull a third orgasm out of you with his own. There’s a moment when you’re both catching your breath that neither of you move or even say anything. It gives you a moment to remember just how much you love him. Vernon slides out of you carefully and you roll over so that you can face him.
“I love you,” he says with a soft smile, fingers gently moving a few strands of hair away from your face.
“I love you, too,” you say.
“Do we have to get up right now?” he asks.
You shake your head and let him pull you into his body. His arms feel strong and safe around you. Like home, which is what he’s always been for you. From entirely too early into the relationship. A feeling that’s only grown in the time you’ve been together.
“I’m sorry,” you say again.
“You don’t need to be, “ Vernon assures you. “I’m forgetful sometimes and you’ve been busy lately. I figured this was a good way to say thank you for everything you do.”
“What? The sex?” you joke.
He huffs into your hair. “I take it all back.”
You pull back to look at him. “It was perfect. Almost as perfect as you.”
A light blush creeps up. “I don’t know about that.”
“I do,” you whisper into his skin when you cuddle back against his chest.
“We still have to cook dinner,” he says.
“Let’s just order something. I don’t want to move from this spot right now,” you say.
“We can stay as long as you want,” he says.
Forever, you think. That’s how long you want to stay with him. It’s never felt more real than it does right now. You think, by the way he holds you, that maybe he wants to be with you forever too. It may have gotten out to a rocky start, but it ends up being the most perfect Valentine’s Day of your life.
#vernon smut#seventeen smut#svt smut#svthub#svthub.collab#kvanity#ksmutsociety#vernon x reader#vernon imagines#vernon scenarios#seventeen x reader#seventeen imagines#seventeen scenarios#svt x reader#svt scenarios#svt imagines#vernon fic#seventeen fanfic#vernon x you#seventeen x you
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New Year at the Castle - Alcina x Reader
A/N: Happy new year! Please enjoy this oneshot of a celebration at Castle Dimitrescu - this one is a long one, so if you would rather read it on AO3, click here! <3
A/N 2: The reader is wearing a tux <3
Category: Fluff/Romance
Warnings: None
Word count: 3.1k
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“The new year will be upon us soon, I think.”
The Lady’s voice brought you out of the world of the novel you had plunged yourself into. After her daughters had settled into bed for the night, the two of you had retired to the library where, such as was your tradition every night, you stoked the fire while Alcina piled the couch opposite with pillows and fluffy blankets. There, with the fire roaring and the snow falling gently against the library windows, you would spend hours upon hours reading, until you fell asleep with your head on her shoulder and woke up curled up beside her in her bed.
At this moment, though, she had lifted her gaze from the pages of her novel – an ancient tome written solely in Romanian – and was gazing pensively out of the nearest window.
“My love? Are you okay?”
“Hmm? Oh, I’m fine,” She responded, waving her hand dismissively. “It’s just… An emotional time of year for me.”
You placed your book down to your side, folding your hands in your lap. You looked up at her and ventured, “Would you like to talk about it…?”
Alcina started to shake her head, then paused, thinking. “That would be… Nice,” She admitted. She placed her book to the side and held her arm out to you, inviting you to nuzzle up against her side. She pulled one of the fluffy blankets over you and tucked it in, idly trailing her thumb across your skin. “New Year’s celebrations were a rather grand occasion, back when… Well, back before I met Miranda.” She sighed dreamily, letting her head fall back as she spoke. “Grand parties and balls, elegant gowns, smoking lounges, and of course, the singing. Oh, the singing. I haven’t sung since…” Alcina trailed off, then shook her head a little before continuing. “And the fireworks, of course. They were magnificent.”
She gazed into the fire with a faraway look, falling silent. You let the silence stretch on for a while, and then, your voice barely above a whisper, “Well… Maybe we can celebrate together, sometime.”
Alcina’s husky laugh reverberated through your chest. “That is sweet of you, draga, but we simply don’t have the space or resources for such an undertaking.” Her gaze fell back to the book in her lap, and that was the last she spoke of it. Book long forgotten to your side, you gazed into the flames of the fireplace, mind whirling with ideas. For the first time, you weren’t the first one to fall asleep. In fact, sleep evaded you tonight, as you laid beside Alcina and stared up at the ceiling. Her arm was thrown over your torso and her soft, purr-like snoring vibrated through you and while it would normally soothe you into a slumber, you were restless. Taking care not to wake her, you slid out from under her arm and softly padded to the door, heading towards her daughters’ rooms.
***
“A New Year’s Eve party?” Bela asked, her eyebrows raised. “Here, in the Castle?”
“A party sounds amazing!” Cassandra was practically bouncing off of the walls with excitement. “We’ve never had a party here before! Just dull meetings with Miranda.”
As you had hoped, the three girls were still awake in their respective rooms. It hadn’t taken much convincing to corral them all into Bela’s room, where the four of you now sat cross-legged on the floor. Papers were strewn before you, some scribbled with brainstorming notes.
“Do we even have anywhere where we could set something like this up?” Bela asked. She picked up one of the pieces of paper, on which you had jotted down the key elements of a New Year’s celebration. “Food, we can do. Music, too. But… Fireworks? We would need to be outside for that. We can’t go outside in this weather.”
Your shoulders sagged a little. “Right. I’m sorry, I didn’t—”
“Wait,” Daniela piped up. She scooched over to Bela and read over her shoulder, chewing her lip in thought. “Not necessarily. There is one place in the Castle where we could do this. It would be like being outside without actually being outside.”
Bela’s eyes widened slightly. “You mean…? No, it won’t work. That place is a mess!”
“What? What place?” You looked between the three of them, hoping for some elaboration.
“The atrium.” Cassandra, who had been trying to do handstands against the wall, fell to the floor with a thud and a soft oof before coming to join the three of you again. “We haven’t used it for decades. It’s so dusty, and full of boxes, and probably spiders—”
“The new year is a week away, though,” Daniela interjected. “If we’re quick, we can get it cleaned out in a few days, and have the rest of the time to set everything up.”
The sounds of a pencil scratching quickly over paper joined the chorus of their overlapping voices as you hurriedly tried to jot down everything they said. By the time you had left Bela’s room and settled back in Alcina’s sleeping arms, the four of you had hatched a flawless plan to ring in the next new year with a bang. As your eyelids grew heavier, you gazed at Alcina’s sleeping form and your heart swelled with excitement and love as you imagined the look on her face when she walked into the biggest celebration the Castle had ever seen.
Over the next week, you and Alcina’s daughters worked hard with clearing out the Atrium. You didn’t even know the Castle had one – the door to it was hidden down the far end of a cobweb-covered hallway, and your feet kicked up dust from the carpet runner with every step. There was a moment of uncertainty when it seemed that the four of you might have to work around Alcina’s presence, but thankfully, Bela managed to talk to Miranda, who requested Alcina’s ‘invaluable assistance’ at her estate. You felt bad, in a way – you would normally never try to get Alcina out of the house for a day, let alone a week, but the thought of her joy as she walked into the party made it all feel worth it. With that in mind, the four of you worked as a team of sorts – Daniela carted old boxes and wooden crates from the atrium into the Castle’s dungeons, Cassandra and Bela dusted, swept, mopped and cleaned the large glass panels, and you walked around the space as it cleared out, jotting down notes and quick sketches as you planned out where to put what.
After three exhausting days, you found yourself laying on the floor of the atrium, staring up at the stars through the glass. Cassandra and Daniela were curled up together, Cassandra’s snoring echoing around the empty space, while you and Bela passed a bottle of water between the two of you. There was still much to do before the turn of the year, but the pride you held for the four of you clearing out this space was immense.
“So, hey, I’ve been meaning to ask… Where did this idea even come from?” Bela asked. She took a gulp of water and continued, “We’ve never had a celebration here, at least not for as long as I can remember.”
“Your Mother told me,” You responded. “She seemed kind of sad that she hasn’t celebrated for so long, and I wanted to surprise her. So don’t tell her, okay? Please?” As you grabbed the water bottle from Bela’s hand, there was something indecipherable in her eyes. She nodded, a small and rare smile on her face.
“I won’t. Promise.”
***
The Duke’s carriage was parked in its usual spot just outside the Castle’s doors, the doors closed tight against the chill of the snowy weather. Paper in hand, you rapped on the doors with your knuckles and stood back to wait. There was a shuffling and a clattering inside, followed by a long, pretentious, “Yes?”
“I have an order request.”
“I’m not taking orders until the snow thaws, I’m afraid. Too hard to get the carriage—”
“It’s for the Lady.” The clattering and shuffling noises became louder, almost frantic, and the doors to the carriage slammed open. The Duke poked his head out and looked directly at you, his usual smarmy grin pasted on his face and making you shudder with discomfort, just the very same as every time you saw him.
“An order for the Lady, you say?” He drawled. “Well come on, come on then, let me see.” You had barely held the list out to him before he snatched it from your grasp, eyes scanning the scribbled contents. “Hmm, I see… This won’t be easy to retrieve, not easy at all, and especially not before this date you’ve written here… Are you absolutely certain you need this?” The Duke’s eyes widened in glee at the bulging bag you thrust towards him. It was filled to the brim with packages of meat, Lycan teeth, some golden goblets from the village, and some harvested wheat from the nearby farm, along with some choice herb mixes from Donna. The Duke snatched it from you and slammed the carriage doors closed again, calling out, “I will return with the items you requested in no more than two days! Cheerio!”
An unpleasant shudder shot through you at his departure and you turned, not at all expecting to run directly into Donna as she stood silently behind you.
“Jesus!” You yelped. “Donna, hi. I need to put a bell on you.” The faintest of smiles flickered across her face, before she beckoned you into the Castle with you. You followed her unquestioningly as she strode through the Castle’s doors, winding her way through the halls.
“Dani told me about your plan,” She spoke over her shoulder to you, her low and husky voice barely louder than a whisper. “I hope you didn’t mind me adding a floral touch.” She led you to the atrium and pushed open the door, and the sight inside made you gasp. Gazing around in utter awe, you had to remind yourself to breathe as you admired her work. You looked at her, shyly standing near the door and awaiting your feedback.
“It’s beautiful.”
***
“Draga?”
While the last few days had been busy, they had been, admittedly, rather lonely. You missed feeling her presence beside you in your shared bed, you missed reading with her until you fell asleep, and you missed the click of her heels as she strode the Castle halls. At the sound of her voice, you sprinted out of your room and barreled into her, wrapping your arms around her. She let out a laugh, a sound that was rare to grace your ears but never failed to make your heart skip beats.
“I missed you!” You said brightly, relaxing into her embrace. “Gods, I’m glad you’re home. How was your time with Miranda?”
“Exhausting.” Alcina pulled the woolen scarf from around her throat and hung it up beside the door, her coat following suit. “I’m not even entirely sure what Miranda required my assistance with. It was all very disorganized. It was as if she simply just wanted me around.”
“Careful, love,” You teased her. “I’ll get jealous.”
“You know that I have eyes only for you, draga mea,” She responded, leaning down to kiss the top of your head. Her eyes roamed over you, drinking you in, before she added, “What in the world are you wearing?”
You blushed, completely forgetting for a moment that you were clad in a white tuxedo, something looking like it was straight out of the 1940’s. On the lapel was pinned a brooch, the three metallic flowers mirroring the three black roses she wore on her shoulder every day. The tux had a golden trim, and it shimmered under the flickering light of the torches that lit the entryway. Heart racing in your chest, you took her hand and slowly led her towards the bedroom.
“Oh, my,” She chuckled. “You really did miss me, hmm, draga?”
“I did, yes, but there’ll be time enough for that later,” You teased, blushing deeply. “No, there’s another surprise in there. I’m very excited to see your reaction.”
With a quirk of an eyebrow, Alcina entered the bedroom, closing the door behind her. You leaned against the wall beside the door and took a deep breath. Out of the corner of your eye you could see Daniela at the end of the hallway, giving you a thumbs up and a goofy grin. You flicked your hand at her in a shooing gesture – and just in time, too, because just at that moment Alcina emerged from the bedroom, and gods, was she a sight. Your eyes widened and your lungs forgot how to function as she towered over you, her golden dress clinging to her. It shimmered with her every breath, the gold the same colour as the trim on your tux and the white trim on her gown matching with you. She gazed at you quizzically, and it took immense effort to pull yourself out of your trance.
“You look absolutely breathtaking, my love,” You murmured. And then, more playfully, “And, if I may say, absolutely ravishing.”
Alcina chuckled at hearing the line you stole from her, reaching to take your outstretched hand. “This is lovely, draga, but I don’t quite understand.”
“Oh, but you will.” You took a few steps back, leading her along the hallway. “Do you trust me?”
“Of course.”
“Then close your eyes,” You whispered. “And trust me.”
As much as she knew the layout of the Castle like the back of her hand, you still made sure to say ‘doorway’ every time, just out of courtesy. There was a faint smile on her lips as you led her through the winding hallways, eventually reaching the atrium doors. Alcina hummed thoughtfully, brow furrowed. “Draga—”
“You can open your eyes now, my love.” She did so and gazed down at you with intrigue and confusion. She glanced around the hallway, behind her, and then back at you.
“Beloved, you do know this leads to the atrium? This part of the Castle hasn’t been used in—”
“Decades.” You smiled up at her and rested your hand on the door handle. From behind the closed doors you could hear the faint sounds of music and chatter, but you hesitated, gazing down at your watch. It was almost time. “Until tonight. I think it’s about time that my beloved Lady sang once again.”
And with that, you leaned back, pushing the doors open and stepping though, Alcina in tow. The chatter died down, everyone in the space turning to look at the two of you with bated breath. Alcina straightened up after going through the doorway and stopped in her tracks, looking around, her lips parted very slightly in surprise.
“Draga…” She breathed.
The atrium was glowing with the light of elaborate lanterns and sconces, the ceiling of stars visible through the glass covering of the atrium. Bundles and bouquets of flowers and vines donated by Donna lined the walls and decorated the tables and stage, their sweet scent permeating the air and strong enough to make one dizzy. The stage itself was adorned with gold and silver ribbons, and the jazz band that was playing onstage wore golden outfits that perfectly complemented Alcina’s. Everyone had arrived to join the celebrations – even Moreau had managed to swap out his usual green-grey attire for a formal emerald green tailored suit. Alcina looked as if she might fall as she took everything in, and you reached up to place your hand on her hip to steady her, drawing her attention back to you.
“Draga, it… how…?” She gazed down at you, her eyes filled with emotion.
“You told me that you hadn’t celebrated New Year’s for a very long time,” You began. “And I know that you said I didn’t have to, but, well… You looked like you really missed it. I got Bela, Dani and Cass to help me clean out this place – which, by the way, now its cleaned out we are definitely going to use this place more often—” Alcina laughed at that. “—and Donna brought the flowers. Everything else I got with the help of the Duke. Which reminds me…” You glanced at your watch again and hurriedly tugged Alcina’s hand, pulling her to the center of the room. “Right about… now.”
High in the night sky, there was a trail of sparkling light soaring towards the stars. As you all watched, it exploded into a ball of gold and white, fading shimmering lights falling to the earth again as another trail of fire zoomed into the sky, and another, and another. Alcina’s arms wrapped around you as you watched the fireworks, and as you glanced around at the small crowd, you felt a sense of pride and accomplishment – it was all worth it. All of the work, the long week of organizing and tidying and cleaning and decorating – all of it was worth it.
As the fireworks whistled and popped high above the atrium, you felt gloved fingers on your chin, turning your head sideways and upwards. Your lips met Alcina’s in a sweet, tender kiss, and when you pulled away you could see the barely contained emotion shimmering in her eyes. You kissed her again, and again, the fireworks in your sky becoming fireworks in your chest.
“Happy new year, my love,” You whispered when you finally broke apart, breathless and lightheaded, lips tingling.
“Thank you, draga,” Alcina whispered.
You could get lost in her gaze in this moment, and you very nearly did, until footsteps to your left caught your attention. Miranda, normally cold and impassive, had a smile on her face as she held something out to you. You took it with a nod of thanks and turned back to Alcina, holding it out to her.
“Now,” You murmured. “I do believe it’s time for you to reclaim your glory, my love. It’s long overdue.”
Alcina took the microphone from your hand with a smile, and kissed your forehead before turning to the stage. You fell in love with a new of her that night, somehow even more confident and bold than usual, as she led the band in a jazzy rendition of Auld Lang Syne. She sang long into the night, and looking around at the small crowd as the atrium filled with her throaty, husky voice, you knew all over again that this is where you were meant to be.
You were home.
#horror#resident evil#alcina dimitrescu#resident evil 8#resident evil village#bela dimitrescu#daniela dimitrescu#happy new year#re8 fic#re8 fanfiction#oneshot#resident evil fanfiction
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Yours for the Weekend. {Javier Pena x F! Reader}
Summary: Javier returns to Laredo for a Long Weekend after being informed by HR he must use up his paid time off.
Warnings: A little angst, age-gap dynamic, kissing, nothing sexual in this chapter but marked explicit for future chapters. Reader has no physical descriptions.
Word Count: 3.2k
Chapter: 1 of 3.
A/N: Had this idea yesterday and wasn’t able to put it down. A huge thank you to the amazing @frannyzooey for editing, making the most helpful suggestions and being an incredible cheerleader. I am super grateful for you!
His nose scrunches up at the smell of freshly mowed grass and burning asphalt as the piping hot Laredo sun blazes down on it.
He was home. Kind of.
After working tirelessly and refusing to take any time off for months, HR had no choice but to demand he at least take a long weekend. Back to Texas, to see his Dad and spend the next few days tackling the jobs Chucho wasn’t able to do by himself, before rushing back to Colombia.
It had been just over a year since he last walked the familiar streets of home, ignoring the harsh whispering or the unwelcomed praises of their hometown hero. He’s never really sure of what he hates the most, the digs about how heartless he was to leave his high school sweetheart at the altar or the constant droning of how he is a hero; tackling drug crime with both hands at the expense of his own happiness.
After a while it became white noise, constantly crackling in the background and itching his brain in a place that he could never scratch. He has no doubt that this visit will be the same.
His cab pulls up to the Peña family ranch with Chuchos truck nowhere in sight. Javier pays the driver, insisting he keep the change as a tip before going to the back to grab his bag from the trunk. Knowing his dad would have made a fuss and insisted he pick him up from the airport, he hadn’t told Chucho he was coming back, and Javi didn’t want him to undertake any more unnecessary tasks so decided a surprise would be best.
Unlocking the door and stepping back inside the house he called home for most of his life is a feeling that he never fails to appreciate. The smell, the exact same furniture his mom and dad had picked out many years before and the sense of security is something rare that he allows himself to enjoy. A brief moment of serenity before he convinces himself he’s not a good enough man to enjoy the simple things.
The time of day and lack of food in the house alerts Javier to his Pops location. No doubt sipping an ice cold beer and chowing down on whatever special Rita has scrawled out on the chalkboard that sits slanted at the end of the bar. Food sounds good. He thinks to himself briefly before scrambling in the junk drawer for the set of keys to the spare truck that only gets used when Javier comes back into town.
‘Everything stays the same,’ he hums to himself as he pulls up to the bar, the sight of Chuchos truck making him chuckle as he parks up next to it.
Loud and unsurprisingly busy, he weaves through the crowd with his head down to go unnoticed, the corner of his mouth turning up as he spots his Pops in his usual seat chatting happily to Rita at the bar.
“Well, if it isn’t my lucky day!” Rita says with a beaming smile, “Both handsome Peña men in my bar at once! You never told me Javier was back in town.” She scowls at an equally surprised Chucho.
“I didn’t know myself!” He exclaims before pulling his son in for a hug. “What are you doing here?”
“Had a few days to kill,” he says before pulling back, with the first genuine smile on his face for longer than he cares to admit, “Figured you’d be here as soon as I opened the fridge.”
“Best chow in town,” Chucho remarks with a wink. “Sit down.”
Wordlessly Rita hands Javi a beer and then shouts to the kitchen to add another special to Chuchos order, “On the house.”
“How long this time?” Chucho asks before taking a sip of his beer, his arm resting happily on the top of Javis back.
“Long weekend.” It doesn’t take long until people are coming over and thanking Javi for his hard work in Colombia and letting him know how proud they are of their ‘hometown hero.’
“Leave him alone,” a soft voice calls out, immediately grabbing Javi’s attention. He watches as she balances two plates with an insane amount of sides on a large tray. “Let him eat in peace,” she warns the room of patrons with a stern look.
“Thanks dear,” Chucho chimes in as you place a plate in front of him and then one in front of Javi. Adding the sides between them both. “Enjoy, let me know if y’all need anything else.”
“Thank you,” they both reply in unison, making you smile before heading back into the kitchen and grabbing your next set of plates.
“How much longer do you think you’ll be out there?” Chucho asks, knowing that he’s unlikely to be happy with Javier's answer.
“I don’t know,” he answers honestly, “Depends on the DEA I guess. Lots of work to do.”
“Mhmmm,” Chucho hums in response, digging into his enchiladas and deciding on having a lighter conversation.
“We should stop for groceries on the way home,” Javi remarks before taking a large chug of his beer, “Maybe grill up some steaks tonight and have leftovers for lunch tomorrow. The fence outback is fucked… we can work on it in the morning, get as much fixed before I head back out there.”
“Sounds like a hell of a rest you’re planning for yourself there, mijo.”
Every now and then you appear from the kitchen, a wide smile spread across your face as you hand out dishes and serve beer. And every so often you catch a glimpse of him, seemingly unsure of himself as he sips his beer and eats his food. Clearly aware that much of the focus on the room is on him. Not all of it good.
You’ve been there. In a similar situation where the small minded folk of this never changing town whisper loudly about your indiscretions, your mistakes and intimate parts of your life that none of them have a right to know. It makes your heart ache as you wonder if that’s what really sent him running.
You’d heard bits and pieces about what happened, the town had gathered for what was likely to be a beautiful wedding, the church filled with excited guests eagerly awaiting to toast the happy couple but it never happened. He had cold feet and confessed that she deserved better, she deserved to marry someone that wanted the life that she wanted and it simply wasn’t him. He left town shortly after that and began his work with the DEA.
It didn’t take long for the woman to move on and marry someone else but even after all these years, people still hold a grudge, a grudge that you now knew personally.
You lean across the bar quietly, counting your tips and preparing to clock out for the end of your shift before catching a glimpse of him again. A small smile sits on his face as his Dad vividly tells him a story, and before you have a chance to look away his eyes flash upwards and meet yours. Both of your eyes linger for a few seconds before your attention is ripped away by a customer demanding another beer, and you graciously oblige.
The sound of barstools scrapping has you looking up again, watching as the Peña men gather their belongings and leave payment and a generous tip on the bar for you.
“See you tomorrow, querida,” Chucho calls over to you, “If you could add Javi down for the quiz that would be much appreciated.”
“Of course, Chucho. It was nice seeing you again.” You say, looking over at him and watching his face contort in confusion as he clearly begins trying to work out when and where you’d met before.
“She’s a good girl,” Chucho remarks as they walk towards their trucks, “Made a decision similar to one of your own, but didn’t have the means to leave town.”
“I can't place her,” Javi admits with a hum, wondering what decision you had made.
“Sirenita,” Chucho says with a hearty chuckle, “The youngest Juarez girl.”
“Oh shit,” Javi says, raising his eyebrow, remembering the nickname that had stuck, because you were always clutching a mermaid doll as a girl.
**
The sun is no longer uncomfortably hot as Chucho turns the steaks on the grill, watching Javi silently plate up the precooked sides they had picked up from the store.
“Other than that fence what else can we tackle before I head home? I was thinking we could replace the railings out front before I go… They’re not as steady as they should be, and don’t think I haven’t noticed that you’re relying on them more than ever.”
“Eat.” His dad replies ignoring his son's concerns. “I’m.. I’m glad you’re back, mijo,” he sighs, “Even if it’s just for a few days. I miss having you around.”
“It’s good to be back,” he half lies, he’s happy to see his father, happy to have the security that the four walls behind him provide, just not looking forward to the very real possibility of running into the ghosts of his past that seem hellbent on haunting his future.
**
“We should have just walked,” Javi scoffs as he attempts to find a space to park outside Rita’s. “I forgot how busy this place can get.”
“If you didn’t spend so much time making yourself pretty, we would have gotten here with plenty of time to find a space.” Chucho remarks before pointing out a spot just a little further down the road.
They both hop out of the truck and slowly meander towards the bar, watching the small crowd of people disappear inside, “Before we go in,” Chucho says, “You’ve got to realize that the work you do down in Colombia means a lot to the folks up here. Shake their hands when they come up to you, accept the compliment and take a sip of your beer. You’re like Santa Claus to some of these people. A rare sight. And they just want to thank you.”
“Pop—.”
“No, Javier, I know you hate it, I know it’s why you dragged your heels about coming tonight but just take it in your stride. For me.”
Javier nods a few times before bringing his hand to the top of Chuchos back, leading him towards the bar and taking a large inhale as he enters the bar and headfirst into the chaos.
He does as his father asks, shakes some hands, gracefully denies the offers to buy him a beer and makes his way through the crowd with a smile plastered across his face.
“No, Chucho! Not there!” Your voice calls out from the side of them, “Figured the guest of honor would prefer a booth that’s a little more out of the way than your usual haunt.” As you point to the booth at the very end of the bar, situated next to the makeshift stage that you’ll be calling out the questions from.
“Thank you, Chucho,” say as he greets his usual quiz team, watching with glee as they all greet Javi and give him their thanks and well wishes.
“Two beers?” You ask Javi, who’s looking at you with a grateful smile.
“Yes please… Sirenita.” He smirks.
“Ugh,” you groan, “Did you figure it out or did Chucho give you a heads up.”
“My Pops,” Javi admits with a shrug, “I-uh- I’m sorry I couldn’t place you. It’s been a long time since I saw everyone.”
“Don’t apologize, I was still a kid when you left. Now I’m all grown and thankfully that terrible nickname has since been retired by the folks here.” You say with a giggle. “I’m sure you’ll hear that I’ve joined you in the highly exclusive ‘Lotharios of Laredo’ club.”
He doesn’t have time to respond before you’re making your way back through the crowd and collecting two ice cold beers.
By the time you make it back Javier is deeply engaged in conversation with one of his fathers friends, answering question after question about the Escobar operation with a slightly uncomfortable ease.
“Good evening folks,” you say, before rolling your eyes at the enthused cheers from the audience, “Rita is on security duty, so if y’all even try cheating… Well lord, I, myself, will pray for y’all to have a speedy recovery. 30 questions. 3 highest scoring teams will win a prize. Let’s go!”
**
15 questions and multiple arguments across the table later a short intermission is called for bathroom breaks and beer refills. Javier sits quietly at the table watching you for a few moments. You’re still on the ‘stage’ and going through the sheets of paper with the next set of questions written on them. With a final chug of his beer, he pushes himself out of the booth and takes a few short steps towards you.
Clearing his throat he waits patiently for you to look up, “You okay there?” You ask with a smile, that makes his chest feel warm and fuzzy.
“Uh, yeah, I was just curious…” He says with a shrug, “This ‘exclusive club’, how exactly did a nice girl like you get inducted to it?”
“Maybe I’m not a nice girl,” you tease with a wink, “Tale as old as time. Childhood sweetheart arranges the ‘perfect proposal’ in front of the flower stand at the farmers market so basically the whole town can witness it and so I couldn’t say no.”
“Oh, shit… but you did? You did say no?” He asks with a twist of his lips.
“No, no, I said yes. But after booking a venue and trying on countless amounts of hideous gowns I couldn’t take it anymore and called the whole thing off, only to find out that his Mom had sent the invitations I wasn’t aware had even been made.”
“I’m sorry,” he says quietly, “That shit with paired with people's small town mentality isn’t fun.”
“It’s okay,” you say honestly, “They whisper about me more than you now, so at least this visit shouldn’t be so bad.”
“We will see,” he chuckles before Chucho slides up next to him and hands him another bottle of beer, “Anyway I best go back to my seat, keep this one from causing chaos.”
“Yeah. You should really keep an eye on that one,” you giggle, before scrunching your nose up at Chucho and grinning as he bops you on it.
The rest of the evening goes by without a hitch, you find yourself stealing more glances at Javier, unable to ignore just how handsome he is and you catch him looking back at you a few times. Both of you simply smile at each other when you do.
You announce the winners, happily to see the Peñas team came in third so have won a round of beers that they all seem thrilled about.
“Okay, I am asking everyone as nicely as I can,” you say with an inhale, “As I am the only one staying on to clean up tonight, please don’t leave your tables too cluttered tonight. Now go! Leave! Get home safely.”
“They work you too hard,” Chucho says with a shake of his head, “You shouldn’t be clearing up by yourself. Me and Javi will stay.”
“No,” you won’t, you say with a head shake of your own, “Your back has been giving you trouble all week. Go home, Chucho.”
“She’s right, old man,” one of Chuchos friends says with a chuckle, “You’d just get in the way.”
“I can help though,” Javi interjects, before turning to Mitch, “If you can drive my Pops home, I’ll stay and we will get it down in half the time.”
“You really don’t need-,”
“I know,” he says before tilting his head and leaning towards you and whispering, “But us ‘lotharios’ should look out for one another.”
“Fine,” you say with a scoff, “But lunch for both of you is on me tomorrow. It’s Chuchos favorite barbecue.”
**
You’re surprised at just how quickly you work together, you wash the plates and throw out the large collection of beer bottles as he clears the tables.
“Could you stack the stools on the bar?” You ask, seeing that he’s finished with the tables. “I don’t vacuum until the morning, but it’s just easier to move them up the night before.”
“Sure… How long have you been working here?” He asks, as he lifts up the first stool.
“Around six months… Rita hired me after the wedding shit. I wanted to pay back the deposits that his family had spent. I don’t need that shit hanging over my head.” You murmur, “People just love to throw that stuff back in your face around here… Figured if I paid it back, they couldn’t.”
“Smart,” Javi murmurs, “You back living with your parents?”
“No.” You shake your head and place the final glass into the pallet before stepping out of the kitchen. “They barely talk to me, still furious over the whole thing. I live in the apartment above the bar. Rita really helped me out.”
“Mhmm,” he hums, “Yeah, I’m not surprised. She was never on board with me marrying Lorraine… I’m glad I don’t have to worry about you getting home,” he says with a kind smile.
“No, just up the stairs. Thank you for staying and helping though. I really appreciate it.”
“Yeah. No problem. I won’t be sleeping for a bit anyway, and Chucho will be snoring by the time I get back.”
You finish up the rest of the clearing up with small talk, telling him the story of a few weeks back when Chucho had the entire bar participating in the most horrendous rendition of ‘La Bamba’ known to man and grinning at the way Javi snorts with laughter.
Noticing it’s the first time that he looks genuinely relaxed, the smile on his face soft and not stiff. He looks younger, just as handsome but his big brown eyes shine a little brighter.
“Do you want to stay for coffee? Or a whiskey? Whatever you’d prefer.” A voice that sounds eerily like yours asks.
He stares at you for a few seconds, weighing up his options before looking down and shaking his head, “I better not. It’s not that I don’t want to… But it’s better for you if I don’t.”
“Oh,” you say, nodding your head before shaking it. “Why?”
“You already know how people talk,” he says with a shrug, “A whole bunch of people saw me offer to stay and help you clear up. You don’t deserve—.”
“I stayed,” you scoff, “If I cared about what people thought of me, I would have left. I would have found somewhere, but it’s fine, Javier, if you don’t want to stay… don’t.”
“I said that it’s not because I don’t want to,” he repeats as you round the bar. Stepping toward him until you’re practically toe to toe.
“Then stay,” you whisper, watching as his restraint snaps and whimpering as his hand shoots out behind your hand and drags you closer to him. His mouth covers yours in a needy kiss. He groans as he captures moans of your own, swallowing them down as he presses you up against the bar.
He’s only here for the weekend after all.
#narcos#pedro pascal#narcos fanfiction#Javier Pena#javier peña#javi peña#javi pena#javier pena x reader#javi pena x reader#javier pena x you#javi pena x you#javi pena x ofc#javier pena x ofc#my fanfiction#javi pena fanfiction#javier pena fanfiction#javi pena smut#javier pena smut#tagging fics is a stressful#i suck at it
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Ciel Phantomhive relationship hcs~
He looks so goood in the new artsyle! The animation studio did black butler justice!!
Update: did undertaker will Alois sooner or later 😉
Okay in these hcs your whatever gender you want but your an earl/noble ;}
also Lizzy is your friend and she introduced you to Ciel
okay now that that’s cleared
when Ciel first met you let’s be honest here he probably didn’t fall head over heels in love with you 🗿
cmon guys let’s be realistic
but he certainly did live up to the expectation of the phantomhive hospitality!
he was very thoughtful and caring of you as his guest~
and your comfort definitely took priority!
your were throughly impressed!
he held a small smile as he chatted with you and gave a mini tour
he admits to himself he finds you to be very beautiful/handsome
onwards to after the courtship! :)
when you first start dating it’ll be the phantomhive hospitality all over again
…times 100.
<3
Sebastian might as well be your butler by the way he’s making your butler/maid look
LOL
your pillows are fluffed and your sheets and blankets are warm and clean each day
(thanks mey rin 💗🗣)
the food is always scrumdidiliumstious (scrumptious)
you play many, many games to keep you from being bored
any drink you want is in your grasp
whatever you want to do—as long as Ciel’s not busy—sounds wonderful to him! 😊
if you annoy him like how Lizzy does in the anime you’ll never hear of it
and I mean- don’t get me wrong he’s not perfect
especially not someone such as him, who has a lot of stress on him
so you might here a huff (that you weren’t supposed to hear)
but he’s sure to make it up to you quickly 💖
his love languages are acts of service and gift giving
half because those two things can be materialistic which ngl is kinda easier for him
particularly when it comes to showing love and affection
and half because he feels really good when he gifts you something you love
even if you don’t have a grand reaction he still feels satisfied
and acts of service is easy too!
he can simply tell Sebastian to do whatever it is you want!
even though you have your own butler/maid- 😃
AHAHHAHA
He most certainly won’t like pda
If you initate it he won’t shove you off obviously
he loves you!
and that’ll ruin his reputation!
but when your back at the manor he’ll gently break it to you that he’s not comfortable with it and it’s not that he doesn’t love you it’s just that!-
he also plays it very safe when it comes to what you do in the public eye
everyones looking for him to screw up
Even more so because he’s so young
to which he always make sure to use utmost care and delicacy when out and about with you
honestly I feel Ciel would like someone who’s a bit more patient or calm
at least don’t be bouncing off the walls 😞😭
he enjoys going on walks in his or your garden
I think he would be happy with traveling as well
somewhere relaxing and quiet
less bustling with chatter and carriages
It’d make a perfect anniversary gift for him *hint hint* 😉
even though I’m sure he’d have more than enough activities for you all planned
i know you two’ll work it out 💕
Ciel absolutely keeps you away. from Alois
he tells you who he is (some things) and all so you don’t get too curious
so please, don’t be curious.
that killed that cat! :P
Ciel would want you to try out Earl Gray but if you don’t like it he wouldn’t mind indulging in what you like 👍
Ciel doesn’t believe himself to be the best possible candidate for a partner out there
Even though he believes he needs to be. for you.
what you think?
when you hear the word ‘love’ he’s the first person that comes to mind ♥︎
:3 cute.
Yus undertaker next ♪( ´▽｀)
#anime#anime and manga#luffyvace#anime headcanons#fluff headcanons#fluff#our ciel#ciel phantomhive#black butler ciel#black butler#no spoilers#no spoils plz#no spoliers please#dont spoil me#havent read manga#black butler x reader#black butler x you#black butler x y/n#gn reader#gn <3#ciel phamtonhive#ciel black butler#kuroshitsuji#kuroshitsuji ciel#black butler headcanons#earl phantomhive#phantomhive twins
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for the fwb asks, "you're enjoying this way too much." with trey please? I am. frothing at the mouth <33
<3 forgive me for being indulgent with this. I wanted to include food play as well,,, orz please enjoy the tasty treat that is Trey's dick. >:D
(fwb dialogues)
In hindsight it was dangerous to do this in the Heartslabyul kitchen where anyone could walk in at any moment. But it's late into the night, and Trey had been kind enough to sneak you in on account of owing you a favor. That's all your relationship really is, truly. Just transactions. Mutual give and take. You help him relieve some stress (because Queen knows managing Riddle is an undertaking in itself) and in return he offers to pay you in sweets (and bodily pleasures, but the former is far more tempting).
You'd been expecting one of his renowned strawberry tarts or a slice of cake, so you're stunned when his lips lift into that trademark scheming smirk. He holds up a can of whipped cream next. Having known Trey long enough to decipher his tastes, it doesn't take a genius to figure this one out.
"You're crazy," you breathe, eyes wide.
"Just risky," he corrects, pushing his glasses up, because everyone's mad here. Moonlight catches on the lenses, shimmering back at you in a foreboding glint.
"We can't do that in here. What if someone walks in?"
Trey procures his magic pen from his pocket, pressing it to his lips. "I won't tell if you won't."
Right. Doodle Suit. Convenient.
"All right then. Get on with it," you concede after a short internal debate. The rewards outweigh the risk in this case. Something tells you Trey would bail you out even if you get caught. Partially because he'd be just at fault.
Trey grins. "Would you like to do the honors?"
"Absolutely. Did you even have to ask?"
Snatching the can from his hands, you squirt some on your finger for a taste while he works to fish himself from his pants. He works himself slowly in one hand, peering down at you after you've lowered to your knees. This isn't the first time you and Trey have fooled around with food and it certainly won't be the last.
You make quick work decorating his erection, unable to tamp down the delighted giggle when it twitches in response to the cool cream.
"Eager," you comment, finishing off with a dollop to his tip. You set the can on the tiled floor and admire your handiwork with an approving nod. "Do we have any cherries? Ooh, what about sprinkles?"
Amusement flickers on his face. "I've been meaning to pick some up. We used the rest of them last time."
"Aw. This'll have to do for now then." You press your lips to the head of his cock, swirl your tongue over it, and draw away with a mouthful of whipped cream. "It's still just as good."
Trey inhales sharply, grabbing at the counter behind him to brace himself. "Mm, yeah," he mumbles, clearing his throat. "T-That'll do..."
Scooting closer on the ground, you place your hands on his thighs and lean in again to lick a languid stripe up the underside of his shaft, gathering cream as you go. The motions come easily; you've had his cock in your mouth more times than you've truly studied for any of Professor Crewel's alchemy exams, a bad habit Trey's working to correct. To think you could retain information better when he's blowing your back out... Isn't that something?
Breathing through his nose, he tamps down the slew of sinful groans and instead grips the counter with more force. He's purposely holding back, whether for the sake of keeping quiet or because it's the build-up that entices him. You're not sure which it is, but you're determined to break him tonight.
Licking your lips clean, you look up at him through your lashes to assess the lustful haze glazing his eyes. Whipped cream spots your cheek; you pay it no mind and lean in and wrap your lips around him once more. It's sweet. There's definitely an innuendo to be found there, and Trey seems to notice it right away. He throbs in your mouth, painfully hard.
"You're enjoying this way too much," you say around the mouthful.
Trey chuckles, feigning sheepishness. "It's that obvious, huh?"
You pull away to speak more clearly. "It's cute."
"Not the adjective I'd use, but if it fits..." He laughs, shaking his head. Your word choices always enthrall him. Once you called him a midnight snack, a callback to previous times spent wrapped around one another. He doesn't mind it. Not particularly.
His fingers card through your hair to hold you firmly in place. "Sorry in advance."
"You don't mean that," you tease, and both of you know it's true. He likes seeing you choke on his cock. It's exhilarating.
You don't mind it. Not particularly.
#twisted chit chat#n/sfw#luna-the-moth#meraki dialogues#I NEED HIM SO BADLY#up against the wall in the kitchen in a pool on the floor on the table on a sofa on a desk in the rose maze no protection all risk#so filthy and completely maddening and so sheet-gripping all night all day in the afternoon every position and angle nonstop#OTL no one does it quite like trey clover
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that said it's fairly rare for a modern state to commit genocide by commission, in the sense of doing what Nazi Germany did and having an overt "here's how we're gonna starve the Slavs" document, and much more common to commit genocide by omission, where you undertake military operations "to address legitimate security threats" and just don't get around to making sure that the people you don't like have access to food and water and aren't getting blown up or shot.
technically it wasn't your plan to kill those people or drive them from their homes or whatever (although if you go looking you will certainly find some cheerleaders for that outcome) but you also didn't make any effort to ensure it didn't happen (and for whatever reason you don't face any process of democratic accountability from the people in question).
there's a reason why "collateral damage" became a sarcastic watchword during the early stages of America's war on terror, when it was regularly used to dismiss the deaths of innocents as unfortunate accidents that couldn't possibly have been prevented.
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A Full Time Job (Derek/MC TPOF fic)
a bit of an emotional story. Love could fix him your honor (It won't)
Contains: Derek, Gender Neutral MC, Physical Abuse, High Emotions, Canon Typical Violence.
You had a full time job. It provided room, food, water, and medical care when necessary. That was the extent of your payment for being Derek’s punching bag.
While at first he had done it out of revenge, eventually you came to tell that it was also a way for him to let off steam when things got bad. And things were about to get bad.
You could hear the muffled yelling from the room, despite laying down and holding a pillow over your head to try and block it out. You could make out bits and pieces, something about hundreds of thousands of dollars lost, another part about a nightmare for stockholders. Business stuff, you supposed Derek had messed something up pretty badly.
You recalled a few months ago how puffed up in pride he was over something along those lines. Smugness radiated from him as he explained, not caring if you understood or not, the business undertaking his father was letting him oversee.
The yelling had stopped now, and you could hear hurried footsteps approaching. Derek entered the room without a word, slamming the door behind him. He was extremely pissed off, perhaps the angriest you’d ever seen him.
His slicked back hair was starting to fall apart from sweat, his face red, eyes screwed up as he glared. Without a word he grabbed a small vase from the side of the table and launched it at the wall.
You flinched at the sound of shattering glass, water hitting plush carpet. The flowers inside scattered across the floor. Without thinking, you slid off the bed and moved forward to begin picking up the pieces. And this put you directly in Derek’s line of sight.
“Stop. Get up.” Derek said, his voice was trembling, and quiet. His entire body was shaking. Swallowing, you stood up, meeting his eyes. He advanced on you quickly, but just before he got the first strike in, you noticed something else about him.
The left side of his face was a tad swollen, a bruise beginning to form across his cheek bone. His palm made contact with your own face, enough force behind it to send you reeling, clutching your cheek as you let out a gasp of pain.
As you stumbled, Derek took advantage of your loss of balance, grabbing you by the arm and throwing you onto the bed. Face up, still clutching the new bruise he gave you to match his own, you stared as he hastily undid his tie, growling about how it was too hot in here.
It wasn’t hot at all, the room was perfectly temperature controlled. As Derek got on top of you, he pulled a fist back, and your eyes met.
“Are you… okay?” you asked. You kept your voice quiet, gentle, not wanting to anger him further. Though he’d often get angry no matter what you did if you dared talk back or try to show concern.
Instead of shouting and blacking your eye though, Derek paused. He mouthed a few words, grit his teeth, then pursed his lips. His cheeks puffed up as his adams apple bobbed in his throat with a rough swallow.
He was still glaring down at you, and you let out a small “eep” as he swung his fist downwards. It didn’t make any connection with you though, only hitting the mattress near your head.
“Why do you have to ask shit like that? Can’t you see I’m trying too…” Derek didn’t seem to know what he was trying to do, because he couldn’t finish the sentence. You watched the range of expressions cross his face again, before he rolled off of you.
“... I tried really hard, you know.” He said. His was back towards you. “I REALLY FUCKING DID. I don’t know why it all got messed up.”
With that, he slumped forward, face first into the mattress. You heard a few gulping gasps for air. Everytime he gasped for air, a shudder ran down his body. You couldn’t help but feel a pang of sympathy, and scooted towards him.
“It’s okay to cry…” you began, before Derek shouted.
“I’M NOT FUCKING CRYING.” his yell was muffled by the silk sheets. You placed a hand on his back. His heart was beating fast, the buzz of its pace traveling up your arm. You began to stroke his back slowly, a reflex attempt to soothe.
“... I know you did your best.” you whispered, just loud enough for him to hear.
You had a full time job. It provided room, food, water, and medical care when necessary. And sometimes it was a job that made your heart ache for someone who may or may not deserve it.
#the price of flesh derek#derek tpof#derek the price of flesh#tpof derek#derek goffard#the price of flesh fanfic#the price of flesh
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Does creating biodiversity in your yard lead to more bugs inside the house? I have a bad fear of cockroaches and I live in Texas. I want to do my part, but I also want to keep bugs out of my home.
Great question! From what I could tell from research, nobody's actually studied this much, so everything here is anecdotal. Some anecdotal evidence says it does, some says it doesn't. I personally have not noticed adding more biodiversity to outside spaces increasing the insects in my home, but I also haven't yet had the opportunity to undertake a major yard biodiversity project.
In my experience, bugs getting into your home depends on a lot more on other factors than yard biodiversity. So if you're concerned about cockroaches getting in, here are my thoughts:
Don't leave food out where possible - lots of bugs, including cockroaches, are attracted to easy sources of food. Cleaning up crumbs and rinsing leftover food off dishes and pans can discourage them.
Limit sources of water - standing water attracts all kinds of bugs, including cockroaches. Wipe up spills, make sure your drains are draining, don't let water sit in dishes too long, and make sure there's no leaky pipes providing sources of moisture.
Reduce clutter in dark, less-used spaces - if you have a lot of stuff in an attic, basement, or garage, consider decluttering or at least organizing it. Roaches love to hide in those spaces, and less hiding spaces makes it more likely they'll look elsewhere.
Create habitat far from your home - if cockroaches are common in your area, consider creating a habitat on your property but as far from your home as possible. Cockroaches don't care if they're in your house or somewhere else, they just want access to food, water, and shelter. If you give them somewhere to live besides your house (even a brush pile is good - anywhere shaded, full of small spaces, and preferably with some kind of water access), chances are good they'll go there instead of bothering with your house.
Consider a "barrier zone" around your home - creating biodiversity doesn't have to mean having a jungle right up next to your house. Consider creating a space directly around your house with very little shelter for bugs. It will discourage them from getting close to your home in the first place.
Seal cracks - cockroaches can get in through even tiny cracks and gaps. For extra help keeping them out, seal cracks around windows and doors and check for any gaps in walls or siding that they might be able to squeeze through.
Peppermint - roaches (and most bugs) hate the smell of peppermint. If it won't bother any pets or people in your home, consider spraying a peppermint scent around baseboards and places roaches like to hide. You could also consider planting peppermint close to your house or in your "barrier zone" to discurage them further (although all mint plants spread like crazy, so either create some sort of barrier or keep it in pots to keep it contained).
Hope this helps! Followers, feel free to chime in - especially anyone who knows more about insects and biodiversity in Texas specifically!
- Mod J
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So, hear me out, but; what if y/n was totally aware that Miguel is into them? It's flattering, having this huge, incredibly dangerous man that's really obviously weak in the knees when you give him doe eyes, or lean over him and press your chest up against his back to point at something on his screen. You never treat it seriously, always flitting in and out of Nueva York and in and out of Miguel's reach. Teasing, flirting, but never going further than that, simply enjoying the attention and warm fuzzies that come with making a man break the mug he's holding because you stretched and your shirt rode up enough to expose your belly.
And it's not like he's gonna do anything bad! It's just flirting, and he's a fellow Spiderperson! You're all good people here... Right?
This is kind of different but similar but, I find myself drawn to Reader inserts/characters that like, maybe if they don't hate themselves, are like inherently incapable of even considering that someone might like them romantically, like you're not constant gloom and doom but you find the concept of someone loving you romantically outright wacky crazy
Miguel throws a lil tiny experimental flirt towards Reader to test the waters, and Reader flirts right back because they think he's JOKING. Miguel takes that as a sign and starts giving you more compliments and little flirtatious remarks and you just think this is like, platonic teasing, that he's ribbing you, you think Its Like A Friend Thing Like A Gimmick, and it takes him a while to notice you have absolutely no idea he's being 2099% serious when he makes those corny comments about how he gets lost in your eyes, saying shit like he's the hunky male lead from a telenovela or something
Combine this with the alternative dangerously risky concept of "Reader who jokingly says foul/raunchy shit" which is also a Val/Reader concept I've had. But like. Idk. Miguel sees you slurping a soda or sweet drink or idk even smoking and he jokes like "wow those are some lungs" and without blinkijg before you can even consider the consequences you hit him with "yeah I can suck dick like this too" and he chokes on his own food in shock, red as a tomato. Or Reader jokingly slaps his butt like some real football locker room go team shit or maybe you're teasing him and telling him he's "fat" and he has to excuse himself while the skin is still stinging because, oh my GOD did you just give him the biggest hard-on and it's about to EXPLODE--
Just accidentally making him totally crazy about you because you're literally too doubtful of him potentially having feelings for you or being interested in you in any capacity besides platonically that you accidentally act your unhindered full charisma self. You're too doubtful of him loving you to be self conscious and embarrassed of anything you say or do and think he just sees you as like, a sibling. Someday you'll learn to regret all those times you jokingly kissed him on the cheek because you thought it would gross him out or the time you got too drunk on spiked eggnog at the Christmas party and kissed him right on the mouth, but like, almost as you would a brother or a cat, as you coo how handsome he is, hes such a pretty boy, and "why hasn't he found himself a wife yet-- wait shit I am so sorryyyyyyyy i forgot 😥" because. You know. poor guy. But also. Gotta love the dilf factor
Ughhhhhh there really are a lot of us feeling the "baby trapping" energy from this man. Miguel who pokes holes in condoms because the second you get pregnant "oh, in that case well, I'll take responsibility and marry you and we can raise the baby :)" which I mean, considering his losses that's its own significant undertaking for him, that entire process and line of thinking is some sort of combination "healing" while getting ten times worse. Not to say he doesn't adore you or the thought of having kids with you, just... he might not be considering the most noble of methods anymore, for anything really. Getting drinks with you and biding his time until the alcohol slowly loosens you up and he gets you alone and you're too tipsy and sex hungry to stop and realize he isn't using protection until he's, you know, finishing inside of you. He'll use a drunken one night stand to try and weasel his way into dating you, if you're not already pregnant from that one night. I mean shit he's just so like large and imposing and just, God, he's hot though, I feel like it would be so hard to not visibly be flustered at the very least, and he'll use any reactions you make as cues for what he can try next. Even just suddenly grabbing your hips or waist or sides and making you suddenly squeak and he can tell by the look on your face that he's totally getting you hot even if maybe you're embarrassed and might not inherently want to act on anything (yet? Imagine wanting that Thick Dilf Dick and being physically attracted to him and respecting him and so you legitimate pursue him if only hust for sex and somehow you Accidentally Unlock The Crazy In Him)
One day you think he's just a harmless coworker, the next day you're finding he's got extensive stalker ass records for you, pictures, videos, just surveillance things, and he's not quite as Charming and Valiant to you anymore. In fact you're just about starting to realize all those comments he made that made you swoon before are now starting to make your skin crawl, but hey, just like you stumbled upon his secret, he stumbles upon you and catches you red handed, and well, he's sorry you found out this way but he was going to confess to you more seriously eventually right? Is THIS enough of a clear signal for you yet?
#valentino telling you you have rough ass hands and youre just like let me jerk you off i can exfoliate your dick like a pumice stone#vox just HOWLING with laughter#yandere miguel o'hara#yandere spiderverse#yandere stuff#sinprompts#also i hypothetically have a miguel draft possibly two maybe only one will see the lifht of day we shall see i promise nothing
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would you ever consider translating sasara and rosho’s new duet? i’m sure it would be a real undertaking what with all the manzai, but i’ve always loved your style of localizing jokes! hope you’re having a great day!
You're very kind. Just for you, anon, I'll brave the horror of Dotsuhon lyrics translation.
Under a cut for length. This post is so long Tumblr won't save all of it, so it'll have to be done in two goes.
Notes about style: No attempt to preserve rhyme or rhythm. Likewise, no attempt to match the vocal tone/line delivery/line length of the voice actors. (Ie, I'm not writing subtitles, so it might sound odd if you try to listen to the song at the same time as reading this.) The primary focus is on written tone, including wordplay, so strict adherence to literal meaning is not observed. In particular, since this is supposed to sound like a (radio?) comedy sketch, I'm trying to write it with the generally jocular tone such a performance would have in English. Some notes on jokes to follow for those curious.
Sasara and Roshou: Hey, folks!
Sasara: You're listening to the one and only Dotsuitare Hompo from Osaka.
Roshou: Thanks for having us tonight!
Sasara: We're Sasara Nurude and...
Roshou: ...Roshou Tsutstujimori.
Sasara: We usually have a third guy with us, our older buddy Rei Amayado, but he wasn't able to make it for some reason or another. So, you're stuck with the two of us today.
Roshou: Sorry, sorry, and thanks again for having us.
Sasara: Anyway, things sure are tough out there these days, huh?
Roshou: You're telling me.
Sasara: So I'd like to get on the mic and say a couple of jokes, cheer folks up a little bit in this whole mess.
Roshou: You? You're the biggest mess there is. [1] But you're right. All anyone needs is a good, hot meal and a couple of laughs, and they're set.
Sasara: Yeah! A good, hot banquet or three and a personal comedian. All a person needs in life!
Roshou: A tad more expensive than I'd intended, but sure.
Sasara: And then if you get a good night's sleep with a warm futon riiiight on the floor, then you're in heaven!
Roshou: Wait, hold on. You'll catch a cold sleeping like that! You need a quilt or something at least.
Sasara: But then what if I overheat? I'd rather quilt while I'm in bed.
Roshou: ...Wait, you messed that up. It's supposed to be "quilt while I'm ah--" whatever, let's move on. [2]
[Chorus]
Sasara and Roshou: We'll keep our chins up and get through this bad time. And we'll set the whole city laughing until even Tsuutenkaku cracks up. [3]
Sasara: Don't worry, everybody. I know things are pretty turbulent right now, but it won't last forever. And hey, at least the state of the world right now is like okonomiyaki, and we all know how much I love that! [4]
Roshou: In what sense?
Sasara: It keeps getting flipped upside down! [5]
Roshou: Oh my god, Sasara. Well, at times like this, it never hurts to have seafood...
Sasara: I see food, I eat it!
Roshou: ...or anything fried...
Sasara: After all this chaos, I know I'm fried.
Roshou: ...not to mention smothered in sauce.
Sasara: You getting saucy with me, mister? [6] But now you're talking my language! And also, the other day I sewed a--wait, did someone say soda? [7]
Roshou: Yes, yes, we all know you love cream soda, but you don't need to bring it into every conversation!
Sasara: OK(nomiyaki), that's fair. [8]
Roshou: Same goes for okonomiyaki!
Sasara: Geez, Roshou, what's your problem? Work with me here; commit to the bit.
Roshou: Bit of what? [9]
Sasara: The routine! That's my motto: always commit to the bit.
Roshou: Well, maybe you'd finally get somewhere in life if you tried committing to the whole thing. [10]
Sasara: Hey, low blow. We don't all come with your level of ginger.
Roshou: No, but you know what does? Okonomiyaki! [11]
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Hellooo!!! Could I request a Ciel x Fem!Reader where Reader is extremely intelligent and witty. Like she is so smart brooo. She reads HUGE books and can quote almost anything from any book, can solve any math problem, and is literally just a fucking genius. She’s very quiet and very observant too. Please ignore if needed, no pressure at all!<3
love ya!🤍
Love you too! And just so y’all know, this is how I am irl, but it depends. If I’m with people who I am comfortable with, you can tack on sarcastic to the end of the description. We’re also gonna ignore his engagement to Lizzie for the sake of this request.
Ciel Phantomhive
You both probably met at one of the Queen’s royal balls. As the youngest member of a noble family, you had to. It was mostly so your father could find another noble family of the same rank who had an unwed and unbetrothed son for you to be afianced to.
When Ciel saw you, he had to admit that you looked absolutely breathtaking. Oh, how he wished that he could properly waltz just so he could lead you out on the dance floor. But, he opted to walk up to you to start a conversation. Sebastian had the smuggest smile.
“My lady”, he took your hand in his, bowed, and placed a soft kiss on the back of it. You were a bit flustered, but you managed to brush it off. I mean, it wasn’t everyday that the head of the Phantomhive household walks up to you out of all people.
“My lord”, you gave a polite and graceful curtsy. He led you over to the table that held food. He explained that since his parents died, he was never truly given the time to be taught to dance and to excuse him for it. You both got a few sweets on your plates before you stepped aside.
You both had a deep conversation about a case that the Queen had you both working on (but didn’t tell either of you). He was very pleasantly surprised at your competence and common sense, as well as being able to piece together the evidence that he brought to you.
Once the ball was over and everyone was leaving for their carriages, Ciel escorted you arm-in-arm to your carriage to assure your safety. However, before you got in, you leaned towards his ear and whispered something.
I know that Sebastian is a demon.
He went wide-eyed as you acted like nothing happened. You even gave him a peck on the cheek as his butler helped you into the carriage. He made a note to formally invite you over to the Manor the following day so that you both could continue your conversation.
Once he did, you came and you were both locked in his office for hours working on the case. When you visited the Undertaker, he mistook you both as Mr. and soon-to-be-Mrs. Ciel Phantomhive. It was rather embarrassing for the both of you, but it made him laugh 🤷♀️.
After a mutual agreement between the two of you, he wrote a letter to your parents saying that he would be glad to be betrothed to you. Of course, the recipients of said letter were beyond ecstatic that their daughter had found a nice and respectable (see: powerful and wealthy) man.
Sebastian often catches you reading many different books in many different languages to Ciel to get him to calm down after a stressful day. Your fiancé is always impressed by the sheer amount of knowledge you store in that wonderful mind of yours.
You would often stick around and help Sebastian with his lessons. You set up a game where for every question he gets right, he gets to choose between receiving a sweet or receiving a kiss from you. I think we all know what his choice is here.
You very rarely get into arguments with each other, but when you do, you’ll wait until you’re both calmed down and you will talk through the issue like responsible young adults. You have both learned from each other and grew more mature with each passing day.
Each and every day, where one goes, they are not without the other in their arm. You both look like a young married couple with how lovingly you both look at each other. The love you have reminds everyone of the love Ciel’s parents had when they were alive.
#black butler x reader#black butler#kuroshitsuji#kuroshitsuji x reader#ciel phantomhive x reader#ciel phantomhive#fem reader
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Still Got It
Summary: you and Osamu are doing some spring cleaning and find a volleyball in the process
Word Count: 1k+
Genre: fluff; osamu x reader; established relationship; reads heavily self indulgent bc it is
A/n: it’s just about my life, you know? there’s really nothing else to it.
Spring may be here, but as the two of you clean a house that’s slowly accumulated an excessive mess, you can’t help but swipe at the sweat that rolls down your brow. You and Osamu, with all the luck in the world, were able to find a two bedroom apartment. The intention was to use it as a guest room for any visitors to use.
(Any meaning Atsumu because who else would abuse free food and a free room so liberally other than the other half to Osamu’s whole?)
But unfortunately, as the years passed, the guest (Atsumu’s) room eventually became storage. Random trinkets gifted over time that you don’t have the heart to throw away but don’t really have any use for gets thrown into its closet. When the two of you upgraded your living room TV for a larger one, Osamu and you decided that the older one is still good. You guys might need it one day so you placed it on top of the wardrobe. Osamu’s excess cooking utensils, Onigiri Miya’s paperworks, and your forgotten hobbies like your crochet hooks and yoga mat, it’s underneath the bed, stacked in piles on the floor, or leaning precariously against the wall.
You can hardly see Osamu with all the junk that stands between you two with you in one corner and him in the other. It’s been silent outside of the radio he’s got playing on his speaker, and you think he might have chickened out at this humongous undertaking you decided to take on this random and absolutely beautiful spring day.
“Osamu?”
There’s shuffling. A grunt. Then, a massive, elongated groan from what you assume is him trying to stand up again. Satisfied that he’s still helping you clean the place out, you go back to reading the paperwork at your feet, organizing them into separate piles.
“What?” he answers back to you after you don’t elaborate. After living with Osamu for so long, you end up ignoring him since you don’t have a real answer to provide.
“Hey,” he calls for your attention, clearly interested now as to why you called his name, “what do ya want?”
You giggle lightly, “nothing.”
He grumbles and just that small, unintelligible sound makes it known that he’s irritated with you, if not already from the situation you’ve put yourselves in.
“I was just checking if you were here.”
“Where do ya think I would have gone?”
The response takes a while, your mind distracted as you read tax forms from Onigiri Miya that you can’t quite remember doing.
“Hello? Are you still here?”
You stretch your back out so you can peek your head over the bed, armed with a beaming grin. Osamu, as you expected, is giving you the most deadpan of looks, unamused and definitely, absolutely, 100% irritated.
“Hello!” you sing too happily which makes him even more annoyed. His jaw tightens and your eyes stay focused on his face, particularly handsome with that beautiful sheen upon his skin. You try and ease the tension, “how are you doing?”
Osamu is not impressed. He holds out a ball of yarn, “how do ya think?”
“Oh hey! I was going to make a scarf with that.”
“Mighty nice scarf.”
You frown, now standing up to make your way to him. You have to dodge piles of random items, tiptoeing over them carefully lest they topple over, “you are grumpy.”
“Am not,” but he says it too quickly, looks away when he does.
You can’t help but laugh at him and with your distraction, you trip over a gift box full of tissue paper. Osamu’s wingspan is able to reach you, grab a wrist before you fully succumb to a hit from the ground.
“Be careful,” he mumbles as you reclaim your footing. Your fall had loosened the foundation of multiple stacks and a volleyball bounces to Osamu’s feet. The sight of it is a surprise because as much as volleyball is a part of Atsumu’s, the sport has gone to the wayside since Onigiri Miya’s popularity had grown.
He’d been able to manage playing recreationally with the neighbors in the beginning, but now, since the restaurant has become a franchise, Osamu spends most of his days with a carefully structured schedule of traveling to all the separate locations and overseeing its activities. He hardly has time for himself which is probably why he’s annoyed by spending his only day off cleaning.
He picks up the volleyball, rolling it in his hands with a curious look. There’s something in his expression, a longing that you want to help him reach.
“Should we take a break?” you offer. Osamu looks at you dumbly, laughing once more. “Let’s go downstairs and play in the field for a little bit.”
It doesn’t take much to drag Osamu outside where you can fully enjoy the perfect harmony of winter and spring’s kiss. The field isn’t being used by anyone else. It isn’t an actual volleyball court, just a large square of grass for the neighborhood to enjoy, perfect for a picnic or, for your purposes, an impromptu outdoor volleyball court. You stand opposite of him with a good distance as Osamu directs you, all of a sudden in his element and annoyance completely forgotten.
“Make sure ya throw the ball up high with a nice arch.” He provides an example and you nod, heeding his instructions studiously. “Alright, ya ready?”
“Yup!”
With his signal, you do your best to throw it high. Osamu’s approach looks instinctual. He’s not even thinking about it. In just a blink of an eye, you see him hit it and it slams into the grass. The softness of it absorbs most of the impact, but it still bounces twice before rolling to a stop. You look at Osamu, thoroughly impressed and ready to congratulate him, but he’s already puffed his chest out, complete with a smug smile across his features.
“Heh. I still got it.”
You can’t help but giggle. Of course he doesn’t need any affirmation from you after hitting it perfectly even with so much time in between. Still, you go over to him and give his butt a squeeze.
You nod emphatically, “yup. You still do.”
#reina.writeshaikyuu!!#for future reins: you were cleaning out the garage with the husband and he found his skateboard and got on and wondered if he could still do#a ‘pop shove it’ or whatever. verdict: yes he still can
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REST OF 2023 : PICK A CARD
LEFT: 111
RIGHT: 333
Disclaimer:
This is a general reading take what resonates and leave the rest
No one is allowed to copy my work under any circumstances
DM for a personal tarot reading
All personal readings are paid.
🤍111🤍
Many of you need to forgive someone in your life, for your own sake, the resentment and holding on is hurting you by blocking future connections, connections that are good for you, so let go and forgive truly, and move on. Easier said than done, still something that must be done, you do not have to go back to the person, just forgive and move on. You are being told to be an alchemist, use your hurt and sorrow as a fuel to be creative, use your anger into being productive and making something out of yourself. Some of you are anxious, I feel Brahmi Pranayama would help greatly, shut off the world for a few minutes and let you be. Spend at least 15-20 minutes in silence. Once you truly are ready to move on to a better life, ask universe for its help, tell the universe, I want to realise my destiny, take me where need be, I am ready to let all this go, and step into my new life.
Start a new passion project that you have been holding on, instead of jumping in too quick and going viral, put in the work in making a solid foundation, you have been giving this blessing, do not waste it. Some of you will be starting your spiritual journey or undertaking sadhana, be grateful and thankful to have received this opportunity. Know that currently: You are the designer of your life, and the design is in control of the designer. GIVE IT SHAPE. You have everything you need to bring your desires into manifestation. Importantly: Put your resources into something that will give you emotional fulfilment.
Small Warnings: Stay away from greed and arrogance.
Comment ‘111’ to claim.
🌙 DM TO BOOK A TAROT READING 🌙
🤍333🤍
Read: stopping by the woods on a snowy evening by Robert Frost, and write down what you learned from the poem. This is my spiritual pile, who are in need of guidance, you are looking for a guru/mentor of sorts, and I am here to tell you that spirit is saying that one can learn something from anything, instead of looking for a mentor, learn from your surroundings, if you have the attitude of a student one can learn, but that attitude- attitude of learning is the rarest thing in the world. Simply put: mentors find you when you are ready, you are not ready. Learn from your surroundings, and internalise what you learned, instead of simply understanding it intellectually. Focus on one thing and one thing only, whatever that might be, focus on one lesson at a time. Reduce, Reuse: No impulsive shopping, find multiple uses for one item, try to be as resourceful as possible.
Eat better, more sattvic foods, this will be important in emotional stability, focus on what goes inside your body. The focus here could be on emotional stability, finding yourself, who you are, what your triggers are, understanding your own body better, mastering your emotions. Solid foundation is important here as well, baby steps go a long way, working on. Small triggers and emotional wounds of a long way, this is a life’s work not a season’s, this is just the beginning of your journey, do not take too many things at once or you will get overwhelmed. For some, take the help of a professional therapist.
Comment ‘333’ to claim.
🌙 DM TO BOOK A TAROT READING 🌙
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EL TAROT
#pick a pile#pick an image#pick a picture#pac reading#pick a card reading#ask response#pick a photo#free tarot#pick a card#pac tarot#spirituality#spiritual development#spiritual awakening#spiritualgrowth#divination#tarot cards#tarot pac#tarot#tarot reading#angelguidance#guidance#psychic
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