#and not a single person has offered me their lap to sit on | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

queers-gambit · 5 months

Text

Campus Breakdown

prompt: ( requested ) after a hard day, at least you can come home to him.

pairing: Carmen 'Carmy' Berzatto x female!reader

fandom masterlist: FX's The Bear

word count: 1.6k+

warnings: reader's a graduate student, cursing, small angst but mostly small hurt bigger comfort.

The door slammed shut in a forceful rattle, making Carmy perk up from his place on the couch. "Baby?" He called, setting aside the magazine you left behind.

"Carmy?" You sounded confused, exiting the foyer to round into the living room. "Hey, what're you doing home so early?"

"Uh, pipe burst at work, left Fak t'deal with it," he sniffled, muting the television. "What's up with you? Or do you always slam doors happily around here?"

You sighed, "Sorry, I just - it's been a day and a half, you know?"

He pouted dramatically, offering, "Wanna tell me 'bout it?"

"It won't fix what happened."

"No, but it might help get it off your chest, filter a little emotion."

You nodded absently, "I think I might want a glass of wine first - maybe two."

He felt a surge of empathy in his chest, knowing that distant look in your eyes and the way your entire demeanor seemed absent, distracted, exhausted. Work often kicked his ass, too, so there was an understanding after so many nights you had let him rant and rave about whatever went wrong - it was only right to return the favor.

Carmy readjusted the pillows and coffee table, leaning over to light the scented candle you kept there; grabbing a blanket to prepare for you. When you entered the living room, you had stripped out of your pants and was pouring a glass of wine, leaving the bottle on the cleaned-up coffee table; sighing when you dropped onto the couch.

"All right, pretty girl," Carmy chuckled, pulling your feet into his lap. You readjusted with a small grumble as Carmy then tossed the blanket over you, but left your feet out for him to massage. "Tell me what happened today."

You held up a single finger, downing more than half your glass of wine. Carm's brows perked up, blinking in shock before nodding slowly when you swallowed. "Today. Fucking. Sucked," you told him.

"I can see that, and feel it - your feet are knotted," he noted, working his thumbs into the meat. "Did you sit down at all today?"

"Well, no, 'cause I had to work alone today," you groaned. "Lisa has mono, Brittany had to make up some exam, Benjamin apparently had a meeting with the bursar's office, and Stacy literally stood outside, fighting with her boyfriend - like what!?"

Carmy offered you a stale look in reaction to your story, "She get docked?"

"Well, yeah, I mean, I kinda had to; she didn't bus a single table, she didn't talk to a single customer, like, the only other person working with me today was Carl and he was in the kitchen the whole time."

"Doesn't sound exactly fair..."

"It's a shitty campus diner, Carmy, 'fair' isn't exactly in their vocabulary, but the tips are semi decent 'cause we have that 'drunk rush special'. Oh! Wait! That's not all," you hummed, taking another gulp. "'Cause why would anything go right on a day I worked the entire floor alone? Right?"

"What else?" He asked, turning in his seat so he could face you directly; still massaging your feet, but leaning his cheek on your bent knee to remain close.

"The fucking register went down."

"You mean the only one in the whole place?"

"Yep, of course! 'Cause why the fuck wouldn't anything go right?" You scoffed. "And it's not like any of this was, like, hidden, you know? It was very obvious I was working alone, the register was fucked, but do you think that made anyone empathetic towards the situation? No, of course not, they wanted to just pay their bills and leave. Which I fucking get! But like, what!?"

"What'd you do?"

"Took cash only," you shrugged. "ATM was still up and running, so it was on them," you wiped you eyes, sighing deeply. "Still bitched the whole time though, complained to whoever listened. End of the night, that new manager even docked my tips, you believe that?"

"Hold up - for what?" Carm snapped.

"Customers were that pissed, Carmy, so a few of them dined-and-dashed, someone had to pay," you whined, head tilted back. "Like I did any of this on purpose? Like I went and unplugged shit myself? Like I wanted to make my life significantly harder? Do people even fucking think by themselves now? Where's the empathy?"

"Nah, they definitely lack in that department," he chuckled. "Know what I'm gonna say, right?"

"Hmm? Oh, Carmy, no," you groaned, "I'm not working at The Beef."

"It's ten times better than where you work, baby," he pouted. "And I could use someone with experience like yours with the customers. Richie's not always the best 'face of the store', you know?"

"No, Carmy," you refused sternly.

"C'mon, why not?"

"You as my boss? And boyfriend? Fuck no!"

"I'm literally so nice!"

"Yeah, that's exactly what Sydney says," you laughed, nudging his stomach with your foot. "Baby, no. Listen, I appreciate it, I really do, but I get ten times the tips at that shitty diner than I would at The Beef, and it's right on campus so I lose literally no time."

He sighed, "You're only, what? A year out from your Masters?"

"Just about," you grumbled with a pout.

Carmy chuckled, "C'mon, baby, don't torture yourself. Get a new job."

"I'm not, I'm just - " You cut yourself off with a sigh, hating that advice (as if it were just so simple), shaking your head and finishing your wine. "I'm just dealing with my current circumstances, I'm sorry I came home in a bad mood - "

"No, hey, wait," Carmy sat up, reaching for your cheek to hold, "I didn't mean to make you feel as if I was shutting you down. Baby, I always want you t'talk to me, okay? I just mean, there's something better out there, and you deserve better than that place. I hate seeing you so stressed out," he pouted dramatically, making you snicker lightly.

"You're one to talk," you reminded softly, sitting up so you could nestle under his arm. "You're stressed out, like, more than 90% of the time."

"Hey now, we're talkin' about your day, not mine," he deflected with a small chuckle. "What if I asked around a bit? You know, a different server job? I can check out places close to campus, but you'd get much better tips and better customers at a nicer place."

You groaned, "Now that sounds nice." He chuckled with you now. "I mean, it's bad enough I have to deal with those creepy frat boys in class, but in the diner, I have to play nice 'cause they tip with daddy's money well if I don't shut them up. It'd be nice working somewhere they couldn't even afford t'walk into."

"See? I'm good for something."

"You're good for everything, Carm, shut up," you laughed, leaning up to kiss his jawline. "I'm just tired of this whole 'pay your dues' bullshit. You know? I get having to suffer a little to build a better character, but for fuck's sake."

Carmy pouted, "Sounds like a second glass of wine kinda rant?"

You pouted back at him, nodding, both mockingly making little noises as he lifted from his sitting position to snag the bottle of wine. You smiled as he poured, watching his face, loving the effect he had on you; feeling calm and serene, and it wasn't the alcohol. When the bottle was set aside again, he tugged your legs over his lap and laid one of his arms around your shoulders; keeping you snuggled close and under the blanket.

"What else happened?" He asked softly, kissing your temple.

"I don't want to sound like I'm just bitching."

"How else do you expect to blow off steam? Huh?" He countered. "You're not bothering me, I want to hear this, baby - all of it. So, lemme recount, yeah? Okay, so, you worked alone your whole shift with only the frycook in the back, the cash register went down, and that made a buncha customers all pissed off. Enough that a few dipped off and you had to cover their bills. But the ATM was good, so they could still pay cash, but they were still being dickheads, yeah?"

"Mhm," you hummed, halting yourself.

"Nuh-uh, c'mon, what else?"

Tears sprung to your eyes as your head lulled onto his shoulder. "It was just a really shitty day, Carm," you whispered, giving a small sniffle. "Guys are grimy and gross, they garnished my wages 'cause of those dashers - I told you. It was a fucking shit show! Oh, and a few bulbs blew all within 10 minutes of each other - like fully snap, crackle, and pop, blew out. So, I had to call the electrician, he took over 2 hours to get there, so, part of the back dining room was darker and this group of guys all decided to sit back there - it was so fucking creepy!"

Carmen frowned, listening to you rant and rave about how overworked and under appreciated you were. He held you tight, raking a hand through your hair, tracing invisible patterns on your upper arm; keeping you close as the wine slowly sunk into your blood. You grew less lucid by the passing hour, mostly the exhaustion sinking in, but Carmy didn't mind.

He just adjusted you both on the couch so he was laid out with you safely tucked between the cushions and his body. You had long since changed subjects; going from shitty work conditions to sports to your coursework load, then to The Beef, breezed over whatever Richie's daily attitude was about, then quietly debated if Carmy was taking the weekend off to spend it with you. Now, the TV was the only light on in the apartment, wine bottle empty, you resting on Carmy's chest; his arms tight around you, blanket tangled around your legs, both speaking quietly into the night before sleep claimed you both.

requesting rules and masterlist

The Bear masterlist

637 notes · View notes

iitskahoko · 6 months

Text

🌹Hungry Eyes - Luffy x Reader

[NSFW + NO MINORS]

🌹Charater featured: Luffy, Sanji, Zoro, Nami, Chopper (for now) 🌹Summary: Its crazy that's your sick buts its ok ur with luffy

The door creaks open and you whip your head to face it, eyes wide and alert.

Luffy’s head pokes around the door, his big brown eyes meeting yours. “Are you hungry?” he hisses through the darkness.

You blink at him. “It’s past midnight,” you whisper.

Luffy blinks back. “Sanji said you didn’t eat dinner.”

“Didn't want any.” Truth be told, even the thought of eating made you sick. Chopper said it might be an offshoot of the concussion you had when they brought you aboard the ship, but for the few weeks you’ve been on board you haven’t been able to keep much more than a single sandwich down.

“Chopper says you have to eat. Sanji too.”

“You’re not my captain, you know,” you say bitterly.

Luffy just looks at you. “You’re on my ship. And you’re my friend.”

You frown. You were starting to understand Luffy’s nature, the delicate balance between his selfishness and loyalty to the people he cares about.

As soon as you were taken aboard, barely conscious and only half alive, Luffy had taken a liking to you. He had a knack for that, you’d heard, for picking up people based on very limited interactions and whisking them away to be part of his crew.

You weren’t interested in the crew part, and Luffy understood that. But because he had decided to become your friend he couldn’t just drop you off at any island: he needed to take you someplace you’d be safe.

Chopper has barely let you out of the medical room, only allowing a short daily walk if the weather permits. Otherwise, you’re stuck in the small cabin, the other crew members too busy to bother with your company. You aren't a mean person by any means, but your silence around others was usually seen as arrogance. The lonely nights you’ve spent in the room have only been broken up by thoughts of this pirate captain; and his strong, thick, slender fingers in places you wouldn’t mention aloud.

“I was having a snack,” he continues, creeping into the room. The only light filters through the small window, lighting his body with cool moonshine. “I thought you might want some. Only a little, though, because I ate the rest.” He offers you a few cubes of meat on a plate. You sit up and accept it wordlessly, placing it at the end of the bed.

Something in the moonlight catches your eye, and you turn to face him before your lips part slightly in surprise. Oh my god, you think, cheeks starting to burn. He’s shirtless.

The glow of the light catches on his burn scar, crossing across his muscular chest. He folds his thick arms over it, and your gaze drops to his shorts, hanging low on his hips. You shut your eyes.

Luffy squats down in front of you. “Hey, are you okay?” he asks softly. “You look like you’re gonna pass out.”

“I just need some sleep,” you say through gritted teeth, “but I’m fine.”

“Not until you eat.”

“I’m not hungry.”

“Eat. That’s an order.”

“You’re not my captain.”

“So? I’m still your friend, and friends feed each other.”

Your mouth twists. It was hard to argue with him because of his natural bluntness. “Don’t you have something else to worry about?”

Luffy shakes his head.

“Like marines? Or Kaido?”

“Not right now.”

He sits down next to you and his forearm brushes against yours. You peek at his fingers, calloused and thick, in his lap.

“I don’t like seeing you hurt,” he mutters.

You blink at him. He's moving a little fast, and you're straining to keep up. But you suppose that's just how he is.

“When you’re hurt. I really…” He takes a deep breath. “I really don’t like it. It makes me feel bad.” He turns to face you, his eyes big and brown and full of something that borders on desperate. “Will you please eat?” He says softly, taking one of your hands in his.

You go rigid, eyes widening. The feel of his skin on yours makes your entire body tingle. His hands grip yours tightly, and you find it hard to meet his eyes.

“I…” you start. You try to unravel your hands from his, but he doesn’t let go, searching for your eyes. You finally let them meet, and it’s then when you realize that he doesn’t see you as a regular crewmate, or even a friend: Luffy wears his heart on his sleeve, and his eyes speak volumes about how he feels about you.

Little things start to click into place. He’s here, late at night, when he loves to sleep. He brought you meat even though he wouldn’t let most of his crew touch it. He peeks his head in when he thinks you’re sleeping. Chopper had mentioned, once, completely offhand, that Luffy asks about you almost daily.

What you don’t know, however, is that the entire crew has picked up on his crush on you and that you weren’t being avoided because you come across as arrogant: you were being avoided so that Luffy could have some space with you. It’s necessary, actually, because although the crew is oftentimes more than willing to get to know a new person on board, Luffy is anything but subtle: the most obvious example being when Zoro found him with his ear pressed against the crack of the door, fisting his cock in his hand, hanging onto every tinny mewl and moan of yours as you whispered his name, your fingers breaching your entrance and rapidly circling your engorged clit.

Zoro knows better than to interrupt Luffy, even when it’s this desperate of a case. He just let the rest of the crew know, in hushed whispers, that you were kind of off-limits, and that the next island would be approaching soon. Nami had sighed because she thought you were cute. Robin had sighed because she thought you seemed smart. Sanji had sighed because you’re a girl, but they all swallowed their annoyances because it’s their captain: and how can they trust him to lead them when you’re the only thing on his mind?

They noticed that this was a real crush and that he was thinking with his heart and not just with his cock. It was usually the latter, and he’d come back to the Sunny only a little before sunrise, after a full night of partying on an unknown island, exhausted. It was clear he always made the most of his time anywhere.

You try again. “I…”

Luffy takes this moment to get a little closer and your breath catches in your throat. His lips are so close to yours you can feel him breathe, and he gets closer and closer and to your horror, you realize that you’re not pulling away. That you don’t want to pull away.

The kiss isn’t what you expect—it’s not clumsy or sloppy. It’s gentle but firm and surprisingly practiced. His lips are so warm against yours, slightly chapped and a little salty. When he parts your lips with his, you let him, and his tongue isn’t hungry or invasive. It’s the best kiss you’ve ever had, and when he cups the back of your neck you gingerly touch his bicep. The muscle moves when he does, and you feel a rush of wetness down below.

It actually doesn’t really surprise you, the more you think about it. Luffy is always stopping at different islands, some more exciting than others, and people naturally flock to him. You assume that this also means women, and his high bounty and cheerful demeanor as well as his broad shoulders and muscular frame were enough to light a fire in some of the young women they came across. Besides, you thought absentmindedly, he has to get his energy from somewhere.

The kiss gets a little hungrier before it stops, and you realize that he’s left you breathless. Your hand fists the sheets involuntarily, already thinking about what you’re going to do the moment you’re alone.

“I like you,” he whispers, rubbing his nose against yours.

Your mouth snaps shut. “Why?”

Luffy shrugs. “I don’t really know. I’m just kind of…” he laces his fingers with yours, and you drop your eyes down to look. “Drawn to you, I guess.” He scratches the back of his head with his free hand, pulling away slightly. “I like girls. I know people sometimes think I don’t, but I do.”

You chuckle a little.

“Maybe it’s because I’m short,” he muses.

“You’re not that short,” you tease. “You’re at least two inches taller than me.”

A glint appears in his eyes as he peers at you. “How do you know?”

You frown. “What do you mean?”

“We’ve never been this close. How do you know I’m taller?”

You fidget uncomfortably, caught between a rock and a hard place. On your brief walks around the ship, you often glance over in Luffy’s direction; and a few times you even got close enough to see the many repairs that had been made to his treasured straw hat.

“I just…you’re a guy, right?” you say, at a complete loss for words. You can’t believe that’s the best you can come up with.

Luffy laughs then, leaning forward for another kiss. It’s more gentle this time, but his hands start to roam over your body. Nothing too explicit, just your lower back as he fingers the hem of your thin t-shirt, but even that has your cunt clenching around nothing.

Wordlessly, you break the kiss to grip the bottom of your shirt, pulling it up and off of your frame in one sure movement.

You hunch over a little, your blushed face slightly embarrassed that even you were taking things quickly in such a direction, but these weeks on the ship have left you needy for any sort of contact. Plus, he had just admitted that he likes you, and you'd be lying if you said you didn't have his wanted poster in your room back home. The thrill of finding out that he had rescued you was tempered by Chopper's strict instructions and the crew's indifference. But every time you saw him on the ship, whether it was fishing or bringing you a cup of soup, made you grip into the pillow and cry out his name as softly as you could.

He leans in to kiss you again, this time gently running his knuckles over the side of your breast. You let out a soft whine, your hand falling from his hair into his lap, directly on top of his hard length that is throbbing painfully in his shorts.

He hisses at the contact, catching your lip in his teeth and biting lightly. His hands leave your body to remove his shorts, his cock hot in your hand as you give it a few tentative strokes.

He dips his fingers into the side of your panties, and you do your best to shimmy out of them.

“You’re wet,” he whispers, his fingers softly rubbing your soaked folds. Luffy presses against you until you’re laying down on the mattress with his body keeping you there. “I like it when you’re really wet,” he mumbles.

He pulls back, sucking on his fingers with eye contact so heavy you feel pinned to the bed. Slowly, he makes his way towards you again, nipping at your jaw.

He presses his face into the crook of your neck. “I’m gonna pick you up, okay?” he breathes into your ear, and you nod. You wrap your legs around his waist, pressing his cock into his contracting abdomen as he places one hand under your bottom and the other around your waist. He stands, and you lift off the bed, his strength making you drip with arousal. Luffy’s steps stammer as he tries to keep kissing you while walking towards the wall, the cold surface making your nipples perk up as he presses you against it.

His lips leave yours and you chase his mouth with a whine, but gasp when you feel his leaking tip prod against your wet entrance.

“I really, really want to,” he gasps against your neck, pressing his face into your warm skin. “I-I’ll try to be gentle, I just really want you…”

Your hands grip his back, trying to pull his body closer to yours. A soft moan escapes your lips when he hits your clit. “I really want you, too,” you murmur.

His cock is long and stiff, and your eyes roll back just from thinking about it inside you.

Slowly, he starts to breach your entrance, hissing as the fat head is swallowed by your desperate cunt. You gasp at the pressure, squeezing your eyes shut.

“Jeez,” he mutters through grit teeth, sweat starting to glisten on his face. “You’re tight.”

You clench around his length as he continues to push inside, his hands gripping your body with bruising force. The concentration on his face is endearing, and your heart melts a little. He wants you to feel good, too, and he’s trying his hardest to keep from fucking you as hard as he can.

His cock bumps something inside you and you let out a lustful moan.

Luffy twitches inside you. “Th-that noise, make that noise again,” he groans, starting to move. He starts out gently, but it isn’t long before he’s bottoming out with each thrust. You moan louder, tears pricking at your eyes as his cock hits deeper. His thrusts become harder and rougher and more impulsive and you can tell he’s getting close. You moan again, the noise escaping from your lips involuntary despite his begging.

“I’m gonna cum,” he says through gritted teeth. “Is-is it okay if I…?”

You grip his shoulders tightly. “Please cum inside me,” you whimper.

It’s music to Luffy’s ears, and he wastes no time in pushing his cock up to the hilt inside you. You tighten around him as his orgasm starts, his hips stuttering and eyes fluttering closed.

The shots of his hot cum painting your tight pussy walls make you groan aloud, your head falling back to rest on the wall. Your thighs are burning from being held up, but nothing could distract you from his labored moans and stuttering breaths.

He rests his head next to yours as he comes down from his high, his heart rate slowing to normal. He places his hands under your thighs, still holding you up, his strength obvious and unwavering.

“Sorry…” he mumbles, still breathing hard.

You shake your head. “It’s okay,” you whisper. You have to admit you’re a little surprised, you had assumed his stamina matched the rest of him.

His cock twitches inside you, and you realize with a start that he didn’t get soft. “Let me try again,” he murmurs against your neck, walking back to the bed.

He drops you down and you giggle for the first time in weeks, earning a warm smile from him. It feels like the sun, even though it’s the middle of the night. He climbs on top of you, slotting his body between your legs, pressing a hot kiss to your lips. One of your hands pulls his head down closer, the other grips the defined muscle on his arms. He hums, then pulls away, looking down at you with hungry eyes. His gaze flits from your eyes to your lips, shifting his weight so he can run his big hand over your breast. You whine, and he gets bolder, pinching your nipple almost to the point of pain.

“Ah-“ you grunt out, body jerking. With you caged in under him he decides to chart your body with his hands, finding the spots you like to be touched the most. He's already used you for his pleasure, embarrassing as it may sound, and now it’s your turn.

He places a wet kiss under your jaw, taking note of the noises you make. He remembers listening to you from behind the door, the squelch of your wet cunt being rubbed by your own fingers, his name falling from your lips in soft pants. He continues to pepper you with kisses, running his hand down your stomach to settle in between your lips. He spreads them gently, earning a small moan from you, and seeks out your sweet little bud of pleasure. He figures that you like how strong he is, judging from how much you dripped when he picked you up. He flexes his chest and abdomen a little bit, and you hungrily run your hands over him. He smirks at you, and you know you’ve been caught. You smile sheepishly.

He presses his hand against yours, stopping you right over his heart. It thumps under your hand, and the gesture is so intimate, so mature, that you fight to urge to burst into tears.

The aching in your core is unbearable now, and Luffy’s inexperience becomes known as he clumsily rubs your clit. You assume that most women are content to be used as his own little cocksleeve, bouncing away to orgasm on his lap as he settles his face between their breasts. Or, more likely, he pins them against a bed and ruts endlessly until he spills.

You’re different, he can tell, and you’re not blinded by his notoriety.

Luffy bites his lip. He knows this isn’t his strong suit, but he’s determined nonetheless. You replace his hands with yours, rubbing practiced circles on your clit as he explores your folds. He dips a finger inside, sighing at your wetness. His fingers feel nice, but nothing compared to his fat cock, and you use your eyes to beg for it.

Your fingers stay at your clit while he presses his cock into your tight heat.

You whimper as he continues to push, stretching you open at an angle that has tears in your eyes. It's so much deeper than when he was fucking you against the wall, and when he finally bottoms out, you let out a delicious moan.

Luffy grits his teeth, his hips repeatedly pressing against yours, forcing the metal headboard to smack against the wall. "Th-that sound..."

He reaches down to feel your hand, and the closeness of it as well as Luffy's eagerness squeezes another hot moan from your mouth.

"I want to feel what you're doing," he pants into your open mouth before sealing it with a kiss. You continue to rub faster, his hand on yours adding a luscious pressure.

Your voice starts to come through in more than moans and whines, little squeaks of praise about how good his cock feels inside you. He desperately wants you to reach that high you're chasing, but your pussy is starting to clench around him and the thought of you cumming around his cock has him holding in his orgasm like his life depends on it.

"I'm close again," he gasps. "Can you cum for me? Please?"

That does it. The tight coil in your belly snaps, and you toss your head from side to side, crying out as you shake under him. "Luffy--" you shout, your voice strangled.

He continues to thrust into you, babbling praise. "I've never done it like this," he gasps, tripping over his words. "I really liked seeing you cum, and I like how wet you are. I like that you're so tight and I like the noises you make and I--" He whines your name as he cums again; his cum dripping out from between your red, swollen lips.

He looks down at you, panting, the lids of his eyes heavy.

"That was..." you start, "unexpected."

Luffy chuckles. "But good?" he asks hopefully.

You look away. "It was perfect," you whisper. "I...kinda want to tell you something."

He rolls off of you and you scoot over, barely making any room on the tiny medical bed. He opens his arms and you climb in between them, grateful for the time to rest. You lay your head on his chest as he strokes your hair tenderly. "What is it?"

You take a deep breath. "I have your wanted poster up in my room at home."

Luffy pauses, the gears turning in his head, then laughs.

You giggle. "I know, I know..."

He rests his arm on your shoulder, the other stroking your forearm. "It's cute," he says finally, "I like that."

You smile against his chest. Maybe joining a pirate crew isn't such a bad idea.

#luffy x reader #luffy smut #monkey d. luffy #one piece smut #luffy x reader smut #opla smut #opla spoilers #opla luffy #one piece x reader #luffy x you #one piece live action

413 notes · View notes

gojoidyll · 2 months

Text

Infinity

Yandere ! Gojo Satoru x Female ! Reader

Part 11 | new life, new beginning, new death

Summary | And I'd choose you; in a hundred lifetimes, in a hundred worlds, in any version of reality, I'd find you and I'd choose you.

Infinity Masterlist

For centuries, a battle between Gojo and Sukuna raged on all because of one soul, one girl, one person who kept coming back.

In some lives, Sukuna would have her sitting prettily on his lap, one of his four hands running through her hair as the two would enjoy the peaceful silence that nature had to offer. Not a single soul or cursed spirit bothering them.

However, in most lives, y/n would be living again and again with Gojo. Their hands always intertwining as they would meet each other, become friends, die a tragic death, and then be reborn again, again, and again.

Though, the silent battle for her that both Gojo and Sukuna were holding came to a standstill when Sukuna was sealed away and turned into a cursed object. His power being split between his twenty fingers. When this happened Gojo couldn’t have been happier. Finally, Sukuna would not interfere. At least, that was the plan as he and y/n died again, and their souls were reborn in present time.

GOJO SATORU yawned loudly as he fell back into his chair, his eyes staring up at the ceiling as a bored expression crossed his features. His blindfold lying uselessly across his desk.

This was the first life he ever lived in such a modern world. This was the first life he lived where he felt so much power course through him. This was the first life he lived at the age of 28 that he has yet to meet y/n.

Though, he blames himself for that. Mainly because he didn’t receive his past memories until late in his teens right after he got stabbed by Toji Fushiguro.

But even after I got my past memories back, I still haven’t met y/n. Where could she be? Is it possible that she hasn’t been born yet?

He crinkled his nose at that. That would be a pain if that’s the case.

But what was also a pain was Itadori Yuji. One of the new first years and someone who is now the vessel for Ryomen Sukuna. The King of Curses hasn’t mentioned anything about y/n yet, but Gojo knew that the conversation was bound to happen sooner or later. A shame that Itadori would be in the crossfire.

No matter, as long as Itadori can keep a hold on the King of Curses, then when Gojo finally finds y/n, Sukuna shouldn’t be a problem at all.

A knock on the door was quick to break him out of his thoughts. His eyes narrowed drastically when he felt Yaga’s presence behind the door along with someone else.

“What now,” he muttered.

Grabbing his blindfold, he was quick to put it on while also plastering a goofy smile on his face. (He thought feigning happiness would be easier than being grumpy despite him still being unhappy about not knowing where y/n is.)

“What’s up principal? It’s not everyday you come to meet me in my office.”

“I knew you wouldn’t bother coming to the meeting today, I brought them here.”

“Meeting? Bringing someone?”

Principal Yaga sighed, “and of course you weren’t listening… Gojo. I clearly said that you would be in charge of showing the new teacher around. She’s new and graduated a few years ago from a different school. What made her choose to come here as a teacher, I don’t know. But I hope you will at least show her around before letting her loose.”

Gojo waved his hand dismissively, “sure, sure. I’ll show her around.”

Principal Yaga turned slightly to the person standing a little away, “This is Gojo Satoru, he’ll be showing you around. Hopefully, though, you won’t have to deal with him much after today.”

“Rude,” Gojo said with a smile.

“Thank you Principal Yaga.”

The moment he heard her voice, an electric jolt went right through Gojo’s spine causing him to stand up a little straight, the smile on his lips falling as his mouth opened slightly.

No way.

“Hello, Gojo. My name is L/n Y/n. I hope we can be great friends!”

Thank you so much for coming to me yourself.

“It’s nice to meet you miss L/n, I hope we can be great friends too.”

He held out his hand to her, to which she gladly took with a smile on her face.

Over the many lives he lived, Gojo knew that rushing things would lead to Y/n dying, hating him, or something a bit more sinister happening. Slow and steady was always the way to go. Besides, as long as he was here, then he was sure that everything was going to work out this time.

He was the strongest now, after all.

Infinity taglist | @whore-for-hawks @esthelily @huicitawrites @flaming-vulpix @zeniiis @rin1802 @mrowwww @kenstarsworld @bubera974 @littleplantofdeath @fangirl-332 @thaliadoesthings @hellsingalucard18 @tamaki-simp @obsessedwithfanfiction @babygivertyrant @carvelcakes @itzmeme @nervouschocolatecat @aspiring-bookworm @babyorphanstastegood @lilacskyly @ilovethegold

#jjk #jujutsu kaisen #yandere satoru gojo #yandere gojo #yandere gojo x y/n #yandere gojo x you #yandere gojo x reader #yandere gojo satoru x reader #yandere gojo satoru

195 notes · View notes

chronicbeans · 3 months

Text

Reader seeing Alastor Frowning

This was just an idea I came up with after seeing the new teaser, where Alastor explains his smile. I thought "what'd he be like if someone caught him frowning?" Then my brain immediately went "NOT GOOD." So, little story!

TW: Threats of Violence/Death, Invasion of Personal Space

You walk through the hallway of the Hazbin Hotel. You have only been here for a few days, so you are still getting lost when trying to find your way around the place. The hallways all kind of blend into each other, at some point, and you've already forgotten where your room is. Much worse is the fact that you are a bit lost on where you are in the hotel. So, you begin wandering aimlessly, hoping to find someone that can help you.

It seems like, either nobody is at the hotel right now, or nobody comes to this part of the hotel... because you haven't found anybody, yet. You're honestly a bit frightened. That is, until, you see a door that is cracked open. Seeing some light coming through, you are so excited that you peek through to see if anybody is there. It's Alastor's room.

You see the front half, which looks like a hunter's cabin, and a tiny bit of the half in the back that has some... grass? Your eyes are immediately drawn to Alastor, though. He's sitting in front of his fireplace, staring at the ominous green flames, as it casts a sickly glow on his face. His expression is a bit empty as he stares at it, as if he's staring somewhere beyond the fire, or as if his mind is somewhere completely different than the present.

The most shocking thing, though, is that he's frowning. Alastor is frowning. It doesn't even look like he's just resting his face, either. He looks genuinely upset. It's quite a shock, truly, since you haven't seen him frown before. Granted, you've only been here a few days, but you've heard others saying that they've never seen him frown either. Others who have been at the hotel much longer than you...

You lean a bit closer, trying to get a better look, and see if you can figure out what has made him so upset... only to cringe as you hear the door creak a bit more open. Alastor immediately stands, closing a book in his lap as he does so, then looks over to you. The smile is back on his face, though much more strained then usual. You've been spotted and he doesn't look happy with your presence.

"You know that it's rude to spy on people, right, dear?"

You tense up as he steps towards you, his eyes seemingly beginning to glow. You've messed up... you've really, really messed up! Panicking, you begin to run down the hall. However... You still have no idea where you're going, and you can still hear Alastor's footsteps following behind you. When you look to see how close he is, though, you don't even see him.

You look back in front of you just in time to see that he's now in front of you. He instantly grabs you by the shoulders, holding you against the wall and covering your mouth with one hand. "Now now, dear! Calm down. We can talk this out like reasonable adults, yes? There's no need for all the running and panic, even if it is fun to chase you around."

Alastor then chuckles, before letting go of your mouth. You quickly begin talking, but keep your voice quiet. "Look...! I didn't know you'd get so upset-" "Hush. No need for the excuses. I just want a little deal to make sure you don't speak a word of you seeing me without my lovely smile on." "It's just a smile..." He then let's out a fake gasp. His grip on your shoulder tightens a little, causing you to grimace a bit. "My dear...! Just a smile? You're never fully dressed without a smile! Now, listen up. I'm giving you one offer."

His grin suddenly relaxes a little, seeming much more calm, like he's in control. He then boops your nose, speaking. "You don't say a single word about my sour expression that you just saw..." Then, he points to himself, his nails now digging into your shoulder. "And I don't shred you apart and use you in my next batch of delicious jambalaya! Deal, dear?" You nod slowly, your eyes going wide as they stare up at him. "Yeah... Deal. I won't tell anyone..." "Fantastic, dear!"

Alastor immediately lets you go, taking a step back. His eyes are still staring at you, almost like how a starving wolf would its prey... or, in this case, a starving deer... You rub your shoulder, shaken up by what has just happened. He laughs a bit as he grabs his microphone, which you hadn't even noticed he had with him in your frenzy, before chirping happily. "You're lucky that you're so new here, my dear, or else I wouldn't have been so lenient on you. I like those who have manners, but I am not so cruel as to punish you cruelly without giving you proper time to learn." He then taps your sore shoulder with his microphone, adding on "That shoulder there should be good enough, this time."

You swallow thickly, clearing your throat. "Yeah... um... thanks... I'm going to go to my room, now. By the way, have you seen any of the others?" His demeanor instantly shifts, again, as he wraps an arm around you. "Of course I know! Charlie has went to visit her dead beat father. Husker, Angel Dust, and my dear Niffty went on a little outing to try to convince a few more sinners to come to the Hazbin Hotel. Vaggie has been in her room all day, and the snake fellow went to buy some more parts for his inventions." You simply nod, before gently pushing him away and beginning to walk down the hallway.

"Dear, don't you need someone to show you to your room? You're lost, aren't you?" He then walks over to you as you pause in place. How did he know...? "I am... but, I'll find my way-" He grabs your wrist, dragging you along. "Nonsense! I'll show you the way! As a member of the staff here, it's only right I help the guests find their way about!"

Thus, your uncomfortable walk with Alastor begins. Whenever you look over to him, you find him staring at you, like he's trying to figure out what to do with you now that you've seen him frowning. Why the hell is he so upset about it? It's just a facial expression! It's completely normal to frown...

Once you make it to your room, you quickly scurry inside as if it were a lifeline. He stands in your doorway for a moment, his hand on the doorknob. Before closing the door, he gives you one last little warning. "I'll be keeping a closer eye on you from now on, dear. I have to make sure you hold up your end of our deal, after all."

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel alastor #hazbin alastor #alastor hazbin hotel #alastor the radio demon #alastor

338 notes · View notes

goldengalore · 1 year

Text

Never Alone

An anxious!reader fic.

Summary: Harry wants to meet Y/N’s family, but she is hesitant to introduce him to them and he can’t figure out why. When he discovers the reason, he’s hurt that she felt the need to hide it from him. This makes Harry question Y/N’s feelings for him, while she thinks he’s doubting her anxiety issues.

Word count: 6.8k

Warnings: anxiety, toxic family, invalidation of mental health issues, angst, mentions of sex but no actual smut

A/N: Listened to Matilda and Renegade by Big Red Machine ft. Taylor Swift a ton while writing this. Also, to anyone reading this who has ever felt invalidated about their mental health issues, I see you and I hope you know you are never ever alone ❤️

***

Harry and Y/N hadn’t been dating for very long when he introduced her to his mother, Anne, and his older sister, Gemma.

He knew that meeting them in person for the first time would be stressful for Y/N because of her social anxiety as well as her obsession with making an excellent impression on every single person in his life. So, he cleverly began easing her into it by having her pop in briefly during his usual FaceTime calls with Anne and Gemma.

It worked because when he asked her to come home with him for Christmas, she didn’t even hesitate to say yes. That didn’t mean she wasn’t nervous about it though. Between her anxiety and his excitement, they were both a ball of jitters on the ten-hour flight from LA to London.

Harry’s family fell in love with Y/N. Once she conquered her initial timidness, she fit in perfectly with them. This didn’t come as a surprise to him at all, but Y/N was completely blown away by the love and warmth that his family showered her with. She was even brought to tears from it.

After a joyous holiday with his family, Harry found himself imagining what meeting Y/N’s family would be like. To him, that was the next logical step in their relationship, and he was eagerly anticipating it. So, when they’re a whole year into their relationship and she still hasn’t introduced him to her family or expressed any intention of doing so, he can’t help but wonder what might be holding her back.

She even had the opportunity to do so when she recently visited her family for a few days. She could have taken him with her. He even offered to tag along, but she refused, claiming that her mother had come down with some nasty stomach bug, so it wouldn’t be the best time.

He can’t lie. Her refusal hurt. Although he tries not to make a big deal out of it, it eats at him over the next couple weeks, so one day, he just decides to bring it up.

For most people, it’s a lazy Sunday—the perfect opportunity to sleep in and not get out of bed until noon. Not for Harry and Y/N though. No, the two creative souls got up bright and early to use this time to write and draw. Harry sits on one couch with his guitar in his lap and his songwriting notebook next to him along with his phone, which is recording everything he plays. On the other couch is Y/N, her sketchbook perched up against her bent legs, her pencil gripped between her skillful fingers as she works on a drawing.

Harry has been staring at her for some time now while mindlessly strumming his guitar. She’s too immersed in her task to sense his gaze on her.

“Y/N?”

“Yes, baby?” she responds without looking up from her sketchbook.

“Can I ask you something?”

“Mhm?”

He pauses the recording on his phone before asking, “Why don’t you want me to meet your family?”

The question pulls her attention away from her drawing to his face. The hand holding her pencil is frozen on the paper.

“I told you,” she says softly. “It’s not that I don’t want you to meet them. I’m just... waiting for the right time.”

He cocks a brow. “The right time? Will there ever be a right time? We’ve been together for a year.” He really doesn’t want to sound pushy or demanding, but he also just wants her to know how he feels. “You and my mum are constantly sending each other cat videos. You and Gemma have inside jokes that I’m not even a part of. Meanwhile, I find myself wondering if your family even knows who I am.”

She gives him a small, slightly amused smirk. “H, they know who you are. Trust me.”

“You know what I mean,” he mumbles, looking down at his guitar. Sure, they may know him as “Harry Styles the singer” or “Harry Styles the actor,” but that’s not what matters to him. He just wants them to know him as Y/N’s boyfriend, that’s all.

“They know that we’re in a relationship,” she confirms.

He waits for her to elaborate, but she doesn’t. “Okay... And? How do they feel about that? Do they ask about me? Do they even want to meet me?”

She averts her gaze, her pencil moving across the page again. “They ask about you every time I see them.”

“Then what’s holding you back?” he inquires gently.

Her response is so delayed that he wonders if he’s even going to get one. “I’ll talk to them,” she says after a minute. “We’ll arrange a time for you and me to go see them together.”

His eyebrows lift up in surprise. “Really?”

She nods. “Yeah. If you really want to meet them, I’ll try to make it happen.”

He doesn’t know what to say at first. He didn’t expect her to concede so quickly. “Thank you, lovie,” he says once the words finally come to him.

She just gives him a brief smile and returns to her drawing, making a few more pencil strokes before asking, “Wanna see what I drew?”

“Always.”

She tries to bite back an excited grin as she turns her sketchbook around to show him. He shifts the guitar in his lap and leans forward to take a look. He instantly recognizes himself in the sketch. It’s him sitting as he is now, on the couch with his guitar. Every detail of his facial features is intricately depicted from the focused furrow of his brow to the shape of his nose to the stubble on his jaw.

He stares at it in awe. “That looks amazing.”

“Thanks!”

He tears his gaze away from the sketch and looks at her. “You were drawing me this whole time? I thought you were brainstorming ideas for your next piece.”

“I was, but you just looked so cute sitting there with your guitar. I mean, you were practically begging to be drawn.” She shoots him a flirtatious grin.

“Mhm. Right.” He shakes his head at her, smiling. “Can I keep it?”

“Of course.” She carefully rips the page out of her book and hands it over to him.

“Another one for the collection,” he states happily, referring to his growing collection of sketches that she’s drawn of him over the past year. In the beginning, she used to hide them from him. Then one day, he stumbled upon her sketchbook sitting on the dining table, opened up to a page containing a flawless illustration of his Vogue magazine cover, and he was astounded. Y/N’s whole face flushed red when she found him staring at it, but he was quick to reassure her that he liked it and asked if he could keep it.

“I don’t mind, you know. That you like drawing me,” he told her that day. “It’s a compliment, if anything, and it’s no different than me writing songs about you.”

Her face brightened at his revelation. “You write songs about me?”

“All the time.”

Ever since that conversation, she no longer hesitates to show him these drawings and he makes sure to keep each one in a safe place.

“I still can’t believe you’ve been saving them all,” she says now. “You really haven’t thrown a single one away?”

“I could never.”

***

A whole week passes by, and it’s like their conversation about arranging a time to meet Y/N’s family never even happened because she doesn’t bring it up again. Harry starts to wonder if she only said that to appease him for a while and stop him from asking. That annoys him. It would be one thing to tell him that she doesn’t want him to meet her family; it’s another to make false promises just to shut him up.

He wishes he could drop it. But he can’t. Especially now that he is almost certain that she’s hiding something from him.

She has a meeting today with the owner of an esteemed art gallery in LA, who offered her the opportunity to hold her first solo art exhibition. She has spent the last couple months preparing for the exhibition, which is less than two weeks away. Her best friend and business partner, Rosie, will be accompanying her to the meeting. Rosie shows up at Harry’s house around 10:30 that morning.

“Y/N’s upstairs, still getting ready,” he tells her after inviting her in. “Should be down soon though.”

“I’m surprised I’m ready before her for once. That’s quite the accomplishment for me.”

“Yeah, I, um—” He releases a sheepish laugh, touching his fingers to his lips. “I may have made her a bit late getting out of bed this morning.”

Rosie opens her mouth to say something, then closes it. He raises his brows at her expectantly, but she waves a dismissive hand and says, “Oh, I was just going to ask what you two were up to, but then I answered my own question.”

A coy grin tugs at the corners of his lips, as the memories of his sensual morning with Y/N play back in his mind.

He and Rosie take a seat in the living room. He offers her something to eat or drink while they wait, but she politely declines. That’s when the thought occurs to him. If there is anyone who knows Y/N better than him, it would be her best friend, who has known her for the majority of her adult life. Surely, if Y/N is hiding something from him, Rosie could be the key to helping him figure out what and why.

“Hey, this might be a random question, but have you ever met Y/N’s family?” he asks.

“Yeah, a few times.”

“What are they like?”

Her hazel eyes narrow slightly. “Why do you ask?”

He leans forward, resting his elbows on his thighs. “Don’t you think it’s a bit strange that Y/N and I have been together for a year and she still hasn’t introduced me to her family?”

Rosie hesitates. She glances over her shoulder at the stairs before answering quietly, “Look, let’s just say... Her family isn’t very supportive of her.”

His heart sinks. “Shit. Really?”

She nods. “They’re like the type of people who think mental health problems aren’t real problems or that tough love can fix everything, including anxiety.”

He winces.

“Yeah…”

“Well, that explains a lot,” he says, referring not only to Y/N’s reluctance to introduce him to her family but also her emotional reaction to his family accepting her with open arms. “Why didn’t she just tell me that? I would’ve understood.”

“You know how Y/N is. She keeps a lot to herself, and she doesn’t even do it on purpose most of the time.”

“I know, but...” He shrugs. “I just thought we’d reached that stage in our relationship where we could tell each other anything. At least that’s how I feel when I’m with her.”

She had so many chances to tell him the truth about her family. Even if she didn’t want to get into the nitty-gritty details of it, all she had to do was tell him that they’re not nice people for him to drop the topic altogether. He feels guilty now for bringing up her family so much, but she never gave him any indication that they were bad people. Even when she went to visit them recently, it didn’t seem like she was dreading it. So, how was Harry supposed to know? How can he possibly know anything about her if she refuses to open up to him?

They hear her footsteps rapidly descending the stairs now.

“I’m ready!” she shouts.

Her outfit for the meeting is sleek and professional—a teal blouse loosely tucked into a pair of slim, high-waisted black trousers. Harry helped her pick it out this morning when she was struggling to decide between a few different options.

“How late are we?” she asks breathlessly at the bottom of the stairs.

Rosie checks her phone. “Not that late. We can still get there with five minutes to spare.”

As Rosie heads to the door, Y/N walks over to Harry to kiss him goodbye.

“Bye, baby. I’ll see you later,” she says.

He squeezes her hand. “Best of luck with the meeting. Remember to breathe.”

“I’ll try!”

And then she’s off.

***

Sometimes, Y/N can’t tell if someone is actually behaving differently around her or if her anxiety is causing her to see things that aren’t there. There have been instances where she thought someone was acting off around her and became convinced that they were upset with her only to find out that they were just having a bad day and it had nothing to do with her at all.

She wonders if this might be the case with Harry. He has been acting strange the past few days. The shift in behaviour is subtle. A kiss that ends a moment too soon, a smile that doesn’t quite reach the eyes, a laugh that feels just a little bit forced. Most people wouldn’t take notice. But the thing about anxiety is that it forces you to notice everything. It’s as if the brain is in a constant state of hypervigilance, scanning its environment for the slightest sign of a threat.

Harry has been at the studio all day. She saw him briefly around seven o’clock this morning when her eyes fluttered open to find him all showered and dressed for the day, grabbing his phone off the nightstand.

“Heading to the studio. Love you,” he told her, planting a hasty kiss to her forehead before leaving.

She couldn’t fall back asleep after that, so she decided to start her day too and put some finishing touches on the drawings for her upcoming exhibit. However, her overthinking mind made it impossible to focus. She ultimately decided to take her drawings over to her apartment and work there instead.

Over the past six months, she has practically lived at Harry’s house with how much time she spends there. But her apartment has always been there in case she needs some time alone or, like today, she just needs a change of scenery to sharpen her focus.

It didn’t occur to her at any point to text Harry and let him know where he can find her after he finishes up at the studio. Or perhaps, her subconscious made her withhold that information on purpose to see if he would even notice or care for her absence.

Late that evening, she receives a call from him.

“Hey, where’d you go?” he asks when she picks up.

“Oh, I’m at my apartment. Couldn’t focus today, so I thought I’d try working here instead.”

“Hm. Wish you’d told me. I would’ve headed straight there from the studio.”

“Sorry,” she mumbles in response.

“It’s all right. Be there in a few.”

“Okay. See you soon.”

A nervousness seeps through her after their call. A kind of nervousness she hasn’t felt since the very early days of their relationship when she wasn’t quite comfortable around him yet. She doesn’t like this feeling and tries to distract herself by cleaning up the kitchen where she just finished having dinner not too long ago.

Harry has a spare key to her apartment, just like she has one to his house, so when she hears it turn in the lock, she knows it’s him. Her heart is in her throat.

She’s washing her hands in the kitchen sink when the door opens.

“Hi, my love,” he greets her. He’s wearing her merch today. Well, technically, it’s his merch that she helped design. Their merch, as he would call it.

“Hey,” she replies. As she wipes her hands on the towel by the sink, he walks up behind her and slides his arms around her waist, burying his face in her hair. She turns around to face him. “How was your day?” For some reason, the question comes out sounding awkward, at least in her head, but Harry seems unfazed.

“Productive. We wrote so much today. Song after song. I couldn’t believe it. Tyler suggested we pull an all-nighter, but everyone was tired, so we decided to go home…” A dimpled smile emerges on his face as he adds, “And I wanted to see you, so…”

He plants a sweet, lingering kiss to her lips. She should feel the stress dissipating from her body. She should feel a sense of calm washing over her like cool ocean waves on a hot summer day. But none of that happens.

His hand sneaks under her shirt, squeezing her bare waist before wandering upward to her breast.

“Sorry,” she says, pulling away suddenly. “I, um, I’m not in the mood tonight.”

He blinks a few times, thrown for a moment. “Oh. Okay. No worries.” He takes a step back and scratches the back of his neck, eyes searching her face. “Everything okay?”

She doesn’t meet his gaze. “Yeah, I think I’m just starting my period soon, so you know…”

“Ah. Well, maybe we can just cuddle then. If you’re in the mood for that.”

“Mhm.”

They lay on her plush black couch together, her head on his shoulder, his fingers running through the lengths of her hair. He’s humming some unknown melody—probably a new song he’s been working on. She feels her heartbeat slowing down, finally.

Then he says, “Hey, I’ve been meaning to talk to you about something.”

Her heart picks up again. This is it. This is what she’s been dreading. She has no idea what he’s about to say, but of course, her mind jumps to the worst case scenario.

“Yeah?” she says, trying to keep her voice level.

“It’s about something Rosie told me.”

She frowns. “Something Rosie told you? What would that be?”

“She told me about your family, how they… they’re not supportive of you and your struggles.”

Her frown deepens. “She told you that?” She sits up now. “Why would she do that? She has no right to be sharing that kind of information about me.”

He sits up too, confusion taking hold of his features. “It’s not like she shared it with some stranger, lovie. I’m your boyfriend. Why is it so bad that she told me?”

“Because I didn’t want…” She trails off.

“You didn’t want me to know?”

She wordlessly looks down in her lap.

“Why?” he asks, the hurt apparent in his voice.

Forcing herself to look at him, she answers, “I didn’t want to disappoint you. You seemed so excited to meet them, and you bring them up all the time—”

“Yeah, that was when I knew nothing about them. If I’d known how they’d treated you, why the fuck would I want to meet them?” He runs a hand through his hair, clutching the ends briefly before letting go. “And I brought them up all the time because you were always so bloody vague about the topic. What was I— What was I meant to think? I’m not a mind-reader, Y/N.”

“I know. I know you’re not a mind-reader.” She tries to reach out to him, but he doesn’t seem to notice her outstretched hand as he turns away, so she lets it fall on the couch.

“Well, sometimes I feel like you expect me to be one because you never tell me how you really feel or what you’re really thinking, and I’m left to figure it out on my own.”

“Okay, that’s not true.” She shakes her head, growing a bit defensive now. “I know I used to be like that in the beginning, but you can’t tell me I haven’t gotten better since then because I have. You’re just angry right now and I—I can understa—”

“I’m not angry,” he insists, though he sounds pretty close to it, and it’s making her panic because although she has seen him get angry before, it’s never been at her.

His eyes fall shut for a moment. He seems to compose himself before continuing calmly, “I’m just frustrated because I feel like I’ve told you everything about me, I’ve bared my entire fucking soul to you, and I know it’s not as easy for you to do the same, but it’s not like it’s a walk in the park for me either. You say that it’s your anxiety that keeps you from opening up to me, but at this point, I can’t help but wonder if you just don’t feel as strongly about me as I feel about you.”

She flinches at the last part, a sense of betrayal settling like rocks in her stomach. “Y—you think I use my anxiety as an excuse?”

“That is not what I said.”

“That’s what you implied.”

“No,” he stresses, clenching his jaw. “You’re purposely misunderstanding me.”

“Why are you here, Harry?”

Puzzled green eyes stare back at her. “What?”

“This has clearly been on your mind for some time now. If you really think that I don’t feel strongly about you, that my anxiety is just some cover-up, then why are you still wasting your time with me?” Her heart thuds wildly in her chest as she spouts, “Is it just for the sex? Is that it? I mean, that’s why you came here tonight, right? Just for a quick fuck. And when you couldn’t have that, you decided to pick a fight with me.”

It was mean. Quite possibly—no, definitely—the meanest thing she has ever said to or about him. And it was undeserved. And she regrets the words as soon as they leave her mouth.

The expression on his face switches from disbelief to disgust to pure pain in a matter of seconds.

“Yeah,” he says, swallowing thickly. “You’re right. That’s what I’m here for, Y/N. Just a quick fuck. Because I’m some lowlife prick that would use you for sex and get mad when I can’t have it. You figured it out. Amazing job.” He claps his hands and stands up, taking long strides to the door.

“Wh—where are you going?” she stammers.

He ignores her and shoves his socked feet into his Vans. On shaky legs, she hurries over to him.

“H, where are you going?”

As his left hand reaches for the doorknob, she grabs his other one.

“No, wait, don’t go.”

“No, you’ve made it clear to me the kind of person you think I am. Thanks for your honesty, Y/N.” He speaks without looking at her. She can only see his side profile, but it’s enough to catch the tears forming in his eyes.

He tries to pull his hand away, but she squeezes it tighter, pleading with him, “I didn’t mean it. Please don’t go. Baby, please—”

“I’m tired, Y/N,” he sighs out, sounding utterly exhausted. “I just want to go home.”

He manages to yank his hand free from her grasp and leaves the apartment, shutting the door firmly behind him.

Y/N stands there, staring at it for the longest time, before making her way back to the couch in a daze.

She doesn’t know why she said it. He was just trying to explain his inner thoughts and feelings, not attacking her, but her brain latched onto that one comment about her anxiety and blew it way out of proportion. It struck a nerve somewhere inside her, reopening old wounds created by people in her past who invalidated her struggles.

But Harry is nothing like those people. No, he is a far cry from them. No one has shown her the level of kindness and understanding that he has, and she fears that no one else ever will, which makes the thought of losing him catastrophically more painful.

She lies down on her side on the couch, curling her legs into herself as the first sob of many escapes her body.

***

The big day has arrived.

Y/N’s very first solo art exhibition that she’s been working her ass off on for the past few months takes place tonight. The gallery that offered to display her work made an agreement with her to donate a portion of the profits to a local mental health charity—something that Y/N has always wanted to do. She’s always dreamed of using her art to give back to causes that matter to her, and she is finally at the stage where she can do that.

Her art career has taken off this past year. She was doing well before, but this year has catapulted her career to heights she couldn’t have imagined. She knows Harry has a lot to do with it, since the limited edition merch she designed for him attracted millions of new eyes to her work, not to mention the fact that she started dating him afterwards, which further piqued people’s curiosity about her as a person and an artist. But Harry, being the humble man he is, argues that it’s her talent that keeps bringing people back to her work, not him.

Whether he admits it or not, Harry has changed her life in more ways than one. Even if he never speaks to her again, she will be thanking him for the rest of her life.

Over the past week, she has typed a hundred different apologies to him, deleting each one without sending it, convincing herself that it’s not good enough, that he doesn’t want to hear from her, that he probably hates her guts.

She has missed him all week, but tonight, that feeling cements itself deep inside her chest, mixing perilously with the fear of having to talk about her art with strangers. It would’ve helped to have Rosie here at least, but her fiancé’s mother was in the hospital after a medical emergency and she needed to be there for them.

Y/N feels incredibly alone.

The people working at the gallery have been lovely. She hardly had to do anything at all because they took care of the entire setup. Now, they’re preparing the refreshments table, and just the mere sight of all that food is making her nauseous.

As hard as she tries to keep her shit together, she crumbles and bolts towards the exit. One of the gallery workers tries to inform her that the exhibit is about to start, but she barely hears him through her heart pounding in her ears. Once outside, she starts walking down the sidewalk in a random direction and finds an opening between two buildings where she can take a moment to herself, away from other people.

The fresh air entering her lungs is somewhat soothing, so she tries to focus on that, leaning a hand against one of the buildings.

“Y/N?” says a deep, familiar voice from behind her.

It can’t be, she thinks to herself, but when she turns around, there he is. Standing on the sidewalk. Dressed in dark, indiscriminate clothing and a hat, which casts a shadow over most of his handsome features. He’s wearing his Gucci square-framed glasses that make him look like a college student.

“Harry? What are you doing here?”

He steps towards her, pushing his glasses up his nose. “I was sat in the cafe across the street, waiting for your exhibit to start. Saw you run out. Are you okay?”

Instead of answering his question, she asks in a weak voice, “You came to see my exhibit?”

“Of course I did,” he says, as if the concept of him missing it is unfathomable. He places his hands on his hips and adds with a faint smirk, “You think I, your number one fan, would miss out on your first solo exhibit? C’mon.”

Tears flood Y/N’s eyes, blurring her vision.

Harry’s face falls. “Oh no. Don’t cry, lovie.”

The tears streak down her cheeks now, ruining the makeup she spent so long on applying tonight. “I thought you hated me.”

He reaches towards her and delicately places his hands on her arms. “I could never hate you.”

“But you should! You should hate me because you’ve been nothing but patient and understanding with me and I treated you like shit in return and I hate myself for it and I’m so sorry—”

“It’s okay—”

“No, it’s not!”

“Shh, come here.” He pulls her into his arms, cradling her head against his chest, holding her there until she calms down. Then he draws back and lifts her chin to make her look at him. “Listen to me. I did not come here to make you cry and ruin your big night, okay? I came here to support you. Now you’re going to put on that beautiful smile of yours and you’re going to go back in there and you’re going to put on this wonderful exhibit—”

“I don’t think I can.” She shakes her head.

“Yes, you can. You’ve worked so hard for this, my love. You deserve this. Don’t let your fear tell you otherwise.”

She sniffles, thinking for a moment. “You’re going to be there?”

“Yes. The whole time,” he reassures her. “I promise to be discreet though. I’m not about to steal the spotlight from you.”

“I wouldn’t mind even if you did, to be honest.”

“See, that’s the fear talking.” He pokes her softly in the chest. “This is your night and your night only.”

A part of her wishes he would just pull her back into his arms and let her stay there forever, safe and warm and comfortable. But he’s right. She has worked too hard and come too far to allow fear to stifle her now.

“Okay,” she says finally. “Okay, I’m going to go back in.”

He smiles widely. “That’s my girl.” He kisses her and sends her off with a few more encouraging words.

For the first fifteen minutes of the exhibit, as the first batch of visitors trickle into the gallery, the voice in Y/N’s head is screaming at her to run out the nearest exit and not look back. It takes everything in her to keep her feet planted where she is and withstand the racing heart and the churning stomach and the sweaty palms.

It isn’t until people start coming up to her to ask questions about her art that she begins to feel any semblance of calm, which is surprising, considering that this is the part she was most afraid of. Once she gets into artist mode, articulating her artistic ideas and techniques in front of these strangers comes naturally.

She spots Harry every now and then, wandering around the gallery with everyone else, blending in remarkably well in his dark clothes and hat and glasses. At one point, while she’s talking to someone, she sees Harry in the distance, holding up his phone with the camera aimed at her. He winks when he catches her eye.

By the last half hour of the exhibit, Y/N’s throat is dry and hoarse from talking so much. She can’t believe how many people were interested in discussing her work with her.

While she’s taking a break to have some water, she hears someone shout, “There she is!”

She turns to find Jeff and Glenne walking towards her, smiling and waving like proud parents.

“So sorry we’re late,” says Glenne. “Traffic was a nightmare.”

Y/N shakes her head. “No, it’s totally fine. I didn’t even know you were coming.”

“Are you kidding?” says Jeff. “We’ve been looking forward to this.”

Y/N told them about the exhibit when she and Harry invited them over for dinner last month. She didn’t expect them to remember. The fact that they did means everything.

“We were going to buy something, but it looks like everything’s sold out, huh?” says Jeff, looking around.

“Oh, we’re so coming early for the next one,” says Glenne.

Y/N smiles at the determination in her voice. “Thank you for coming. You guys have no idea how much it means to me.”

Her heart is so full. Whereas the night started with her feeling petrified and alone, she now feels more loved and supported than ever. To say that the exhibit was a success is an understatement, and having Harry, Jeff, and Glenne all there for her was the cherry on top because success tastes so much sweeter when you have people to share it with.

***

Harry is bursting with pride. Watching Y/N put on this exhibit tonight has been quite a treat. She has blossomed from someone who used to not think very highly of her artistic capabilities into a self-assured artist right before his eyes, and he has loved being able to witness her growth.

Now they’re at his house, having Thai food, and Y/N, who hasn’t eaten all day due to nerves, is devouring everything so quickly that he worries he might not have ordered enough food for them. Luckily, that doesn’t end up being the case.

Afterwards, as they’re placing their dishes in the sink, Y/N tells him, “I saw you sneaking pictures of me at the exhibit. Like a little fanboy.”

He laughs. “I hope you don’t mind. You just looked so in your element.”

She bites her lip. “Can I see them?”

“Sure.” He takes his phone out of his pocket and opens up his camera roll. He places it on the counter so they can both look together.

Each photo shows Y/N talking to people who came to see her work, her hands poised in the air as she describes her creative process or her inspiration behind a specific piece.

“You look so confident,” he comments. “And happy.” He looks up at her from his phone and nudges her softly with his arm. “I’m proud of you.”

For a second, it seems like she’s about to break down into tears again but then contains herself.

“I really don’t deserve you,” she says.

He gives her a gentle look, knowing that she’s referring to the hurtful words she fired at him that night in her apartment. The words that burrowed deep under his skin for a few days until he gained some clarity and realized that she’d only said them because she felt attacked, that she didn’t actually believe them. Of course, that didn’t make it okay, but it did soften him towards her a little. And knowing Y/N, he could safely assume that she was far angrier at herself than he was at her.

“Y/N, I know you didn’t mean what you said. I mean, it still fucking hurt, but I know they were just words said in the heat of the moment… Right?”

“Yes,” she replies without hesitation. “And I’m so sorry, not just about what I said that night, but also what I didn’t say about my family, for hiding that from you.”

“No, I never should’ve pushed you to tell me in the first place.”

“But you never pushed me, Harry.” She turns her body towards him fully, leaning against the counter. “You just asked because you were curious about that part of my life, the same way I was curious about your family before I met them. It’s just that my family is… They’re nothing like yours. It’s not like they’re terrible people. They’re just not warm or affectionate, and they see any display of emotion as a sign of weakness.”

He quirks a brow. “I hope you don’t take this the wrong way, lovie, but they sound like robots.”

“You’re not far off,” she replies with a shrug. “They have this toughness, this stoic resolve that I used to envy when I was younger, until I realized that I didn’t want to be like that at all. As a child though, when your whole family is like that and you’re the anxious one who can’t get your emotions under control, it’s hard to feel normal. My parents didn’t know how to handle my anxiety, so they tried to mold me into them, and when that didn’t work, they just started denying my feelings altogether. Every time I would try to talk about my feelings, they would shut me down, tell me to suck it up and toughen up and stop being so goddamn sensitive.”

Hearing that makes Harry’s chest ache. Y/N is a sensitive person, sure, but he never viewed that as a shortcoming. In fact, it’s one of the many things that drew him to her because he is the same way. His sensitivity has allowed him to be more empathetic in his relationships and more vulnerable in his music—qualities that he also noticed in Y/N.

“I got tired of trying to explain it to them,” she continues, “so I left and tried to make something out of my art career. And God, my parents hated that. They were never the creative types; they thought anything related to art was a waste of time. They kept telling me I was wasting my potential to be something bigger, something better than an artist. And at one point, I started believing them, but then I met people like Rosie, who weren’t emotionless robots and who actually appreciated art for what it is.

“And I made a life for myself out here, pouring my heart and soul into my art, and I’ve tried so hard to keep this new, amazing part of my life separate from that part because I don’t want them to ruin this for me.”

“That’s why you didn’t want me to meet them?” he asks gently.

“Well, that and the fact that they’re convinced that you’re just some hotshot superstar stringing me along while sleeping with ten other girls at the same time because they don’t see how someone like you could ever fall in love with someone like me. And they make sure to remind me of that every time I go see them, which is just so fun,” she says sarcastically, rolling her eyes.

Harry doesn’t really care that her parents see him as some pompous asshole obsessed with sex. What does bother him, however, is that they try to make Y/N feel like she somehow doesn’t meet his standards, that she isn’t good enough for him because that couldn’t be further from the truth.

“How come you still visit them?” he asks. “Not judging, just curious.” If it were up to him, he would never let them see her again.

She sighs. “I don’t know. I guess I always felt obligated to? I felt like they did care about me, even if they sucked at showing it. But the older I get and especially this past year, I feel less obligated to put up with their shit. I’ll probably keep visiting for now, just not as often anymore.”

“You don’t have to deal with them alone, you know.” He takes her hand in his. “I’m more than willing to go along for moral support.”

“That’s really sweet, but… It’s hard enough hearing them say disrespectful things about you when you’re not there. If you were there, I think I might start throwing hands.”

He chuckles. The idea of his dear sweet Y/N, who couldn’t hurt a fly, threatening to fight her family for disrespecting him makes him melt inside.

“Okay, well, I understand if you’d prefer to go on your own,” he says. “My offer still stands though, if you change your mind.”

She smiles. “Thank you. I appreciate that. And I promise to be more open and honest with you moving forward. I really am trying.”

“I know you are.” He looks down at their hands, rubbing his thumb over the back of hers. “Can’t be easy when you were told to bury your feelings down all through your childhood.”

“Yeah…”

When he looks up from their hands, he finds a peculiar look on her face, her eyes tender and almost hypnotic as they stare back at him.

He frowns slightly. “What?”

She shakes her head. “Nothing. Just feeling extra lucky tonight.”

“Oh.” He smiles, nearly blushing under her intense gaze. “Sooo, when’s the next exhibit? Because I have some suggestions.”

Her brows lift up curiously. “Suggestions?”

“Yeah, mostly for the refreshments table. I feel it was a bit lacking.”

She gasps. “Not the refreshments table! I worked so hard on that!”

“Hm, well, clearly not hard enough.”

She pouts. He chuckles and pinches her bottom lip before leaning in for a kiss, stopping just by her lips.

“I love you so much,” he whispers.

“Love you more.” She completes the kiss.

***

Thank you for reading! For more anxious!reader and other fics, check out my MASTERLIST

#harry styles #harry styles one shot #harry styles fluff #harry styles angst #harry styles oneshot #harry styles fic #harry styles blurb #harry styles x reader #harry styles x y/n #anxious!reader #harry styles writing #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles imagine #my writing

2K notes · View notes

spoilmesweetieforficssake · 7 months

Text

Pregnant Reader - Part 3

So after the final part of Not So Single Mom I realised I still had a few more parts planned for the pregnant reader fic so while we have a little writing momentum - here we are with part 3. Hope you guys enjoy!

Part One

Part Two

You press a hand to your stomach, smiling as you feel the movement beneath. Your little girl was a dancer, it felt like.

“Oooh, is she on the move again?” asks Janine, dropping down to sit next to you.

“And apparently determined to get somewhere,” you chuckle as you feel the baby shift. “You want to feel?”

She gasps. “Really?”

You shrug. “If you want to?”

“Yes!” she grins. “Definitely yes.” She holds out a hand, grinning as you take hold of it and settle it against your stomach. Janine squeals when she feels the baby move beneath her hand.

“You trying out to be the new fire alarm or somethin’?” asks Melissa as she enters the breakroom, a frown already on her face at the high pitched noise as she heads for the coffee machine.

“The baby’s moving,” grins Janine.

The red head’s eyes zero in on the spot where Janine’s hand rests against your stomach. “And that gives you an excuse to get handsy, does it?”

The younger woman shrinks back at Melissa’s words, her hand quickly retracted back to her own lap. “I should get going, I have things to get set up anyway.”

You watch the younger woman go. “’Lissa, I offered to let her feel. It’s not like she just decided to get hands on herself.”

“Good, or she’d find finger painting difficult soon.”

Rolling your eyes at the implied threat you can’t help but smile at her possessiveness. It’s nice to still feel wanted and protected even though you feel the size of a school bus. Your smile only grows as you watch her prepare not only her own coffee, but a mug for you, ensuring that yours comes from the special jar of decaffeinated she picked up for you.

Janine isn’t the only one to be excited at the prospect of the baby moving, quite a few of your colleagues all too eager to have the chance to feel the life moving inside you. To say Melissa does not share their enthusiasm is putting it lightly. You have to hand it to her though, after her initial snap at Janine, she’s been subtle by her standards. A curling of her fingers into a fist. A scowl. A glare.

One day, however, you hear it; she growls. You’re seeing your kids off at the end of the day and one of the mother’s hands has apparently wandered a little too far and lingered a little too long for the red head’s liking. You turn to see her standing at the top if the steps, arms crossed, stony expression on her face. Politely saying goodbye to your student’s mother, you make your way up the steps to stand in front of the red head. You reach for her hands, untucking them from her arms and placing them against your stomach.

“You can’t kill them all, you know.”

She frowns.

“I’ve seen the looks you’ve been throwing at people.”

Her eyes drop to where her hands rest against you and she shrugs. “I just don’t like people with their hands all over you.”

“’Lissa, there is precisely one person who gets to have their hands all over me and she’s standing right in front of me.”

“But-“

You shake your head. “They’re excited. That’s all. The baby is exciting for them too, especially now she’s started her gymnastics. It’ll be old news to them soon enough but let them be excited for a while. Let them be excited about your daughter.”

You sit back in your chair with a sigh. “Seriously, little one, you gotta give the tap dancing break.” Reaching for your phone, you quickly type out a message to Melissa, asking if she can swing by your classroom when she has a moment. Barely sixty seconds later you hear familiar footsteps rushing along the corridor. A few moments later the red head appears in your doorway, hands clinging to the frame to halt her momentum.

“What’s wrong?” she asks, her worry for you and your daughter never far away.

“You didn’t have to come running,” you say as she enters your classroom, green eyes roving over your frame, head tilting questioningly to the side when she finds nothing amiss. “I said when you had a minute.”

She shrugs. “I always got a minute for you and the baby.”

At this, you smile. You smile because it’s true. It doesn’t matter how busy, how tired or what else happens in her life, she will make time. There are times you feel guilty, but somehow, she always manages to persuade you your guilt is unwarranted. “I need you to tell your daughter to quit throwing a tantrum on my bladder.”

When Melissa frowns you reach out your hands, taking hold of hers and slipping them under the loose jumper you wear. “I don’t know what voodoo magic you pull but just do what you do.”

Automatically, she moves her hands against your skin and after a few moments you smile in relief.

Tilting her head, she regards you curiously.

“She settles when it’s you,” you tell her.

“Really?”

You nod, covering her hands with your own. “It took me a while to figure out, but yeah. When it’s your hands she stills. It’s the same at night in bed too, especially when you speak to her. She knows you.”

Melissa tries to hide a sniffle, but the tears glistening in her eyes give her away.

“Turns out she’s just as fussy as her mama as to who has their hands on me.”

#melissa schemmenti x reader #melissa x reader #melissa schemmenti

256 notes · View notes

bengiyo · 6 months

Text

Only Friends: They Can't Sit With Me

I’ve been trying to find the words to express my consternation about Only Friends properly for weeks. Now that we’ve finished the show, I think I can say it plainly: The show just isn’t that deep, and the characters are unintentionally some of the worst gays you know. They can't sit with me and mine.

In so many ways this show avoided saying much for most of its runtime by just presenting the characters and putting them in situations. This would generally have been fine until the final episodes where the push to marry off the characters within their actor pairs coupled with the decision to punish Boston exclusively for any of the wrongs he had committed this season.

I hate feeling like I must defend Boston, because he was not a good friend to his squad. He introduced Top to their group just to fuck with Ray of all people for some reason. Then he got jealous when Top took a shine to Mew. He fired Ray at Top and Mew, and misrepresented a video he took of them to get Top to hook up with him one more time. (As a note, I also hold responsible for his decision to fuck around with Boston and withhold that information from Mew as well, but we’ll get there.) However, Boston is one of the only people in this show not using sex as leverage over the person he’s with or hounding people about putting out.

I hate that this show kept comparing other characters to Boston when Ray is fucking around with Sand while he’s seeing Mew. Top and Mew are playing their little stupid games about sex the whole time. Nick is pretending to be okay about stuff that he isn’t and using a sex tape as blackmail. Boston becomes the victim of blackmail and revenge porn in this show! Why is he the one who deserves to be punished for anything wrong that he did exclusively while everyone else is in “happy friend land” at the end of this show?

Also, what the fuck was the point of Boeing? They introduced Boeing as like a final boss but he revealed NOTHING about any of the characters, especially Top! Force did such a thankless and difficult job in this show only to get stuck in an enigmatic character that we can never get a secure read for. Boeing showed up and seemed like he was more of all of them, and we learned nothing because of his intrusion, and he gets rejected in the most perfunctory way possible as the final source of drama. Disappointing.

As I reflect on this show, I wish it had been episodic instead of a serial. The problem Only Friends has is that in the end it becomes a single story that took 12 weeks to tell. All this drama was so aggravating because these homos DO NOT have each other’s backs. Mew helps Boston out of a sticky situation just so he can be morally superior to Boston. Top helps Ray out of a situation and many of us thought that Top could have been the one who called the cops on the party! Cheum decides to castigate Ray AS HE’S BEING ARRESTED FOR DRUG POSSESSION. Cheum accuses Boston of assaulting her brother under false pretenses, never offers him a real apology, and then thinks that Boston should abase himself before the group at the end. If this show had been episodic, each episode could have been about a gay issue within this group and resolved itself within the episode while continuing larger arcs.

I feel like the angst between Boston and Mew went to waste. Why are they jealous of each other? Why didn’t they hate fuck? Mew is a virgin and Top was his first time. Why did we not unpack how Mew views himself after having sex for the first time? He had been holding out for so long and we never spend time with him really understanding how sex impacted him. Why wouldn’t he touch Ray at that point? Sure, he was never into Ray that way, but what is the core of his sexual preciousness?

This show spent the entire final episode taking a victory lap around Boston losing everything and celebrating these dysfunctional ass couples getting together, only to end on a scene of Mew being interested in Mix’s character as Top looks on worried. What a terrible place to end. We never understood Mew’s thing about sex and especially Top. We never understood Top. After dunking on Boston one final time, we end on Mew wanting to flirt with someone else? Terrible.

These people are still young, but this is not what community looks like. These characters are mean to each other in a way that makes me really worry about the shit that this queer team had suffered as they came of age and entered the scene. I believe in queer community. I believe in helping the people in our spaces even if I don’t like them personally. Even at their worst in Queer as Folk, those guys and gals had each other’s backs. Where was that energy here?

They are truly terrible friends. In so many ways, I was grossed out about the way a bunch of homos turned on the slut in their group only to end the show on a game of spin the fucking bottle where they made Sand make out with Top. It feels so weird that a group of queer people essentially ostracized one of their own for failure to conform with monogamous norms. NOT A SLAY.

Beyond that, I feel like most of the cast didn’t even get to play against type! Khaotung playing drunk so consistently was impressive, but he’s always been a pretty, rich, shit stirrer in most of his roles. First is always a grumpy simp. Book is always the virgin. Force got to be a jerk in a really fun way, but we never understood the interiority of his character. Mark and Neo got to do different stuff, and I really hope Neo gets an award for the way he fully embodied Boston.

I had a lot of hope for this show, but in the end, it will just be remembered as an amusing romp that fell flat in the back half for me. With that, I am done with Only Friends, and hoping to be done with GMMTV in a while, honestly. Between this, Hidden Agenda, Dangerous Romance, and a Boss and a Babe, I’m quite over it.

We wrote so much about this show trying to mine depth from it and the well was too shallow. It’s alright for us to admit that this show wasn’t that deep. We can admit that it was just a lot of fun for a few months. “This show is fun” (read: easy to fap to) and “This show is good” can form a Venn diagram, but that is not a circle. You gotta know when to fold ‘em.

#Ben writes #only friends the series #only friends meta

174 notes · View notes

bg-brainrot · 5 months

Text

Day 5 of winter fluff with Astarion for the BG3 Holiday Challenge!

Prompt: Delicacies

Featuring: Astarion x Rogue!Tav

Series: Fits into Love at First Knife, AO3 link here

Premise: You receive a lovely gift of seasonal delicacies from Alfira, a thanks for helping her set up her new school and being her favorite source of musical inspiration. When you realize that Astarion can’t partake, you find an alternative.

Tags: POV Second Person, Gender-Neutral Pronouns, Fluff, Holidays, post-canon, tw: blood

Word count: ~1.1k

Disclaimer: Google told me sugar can take as little as 10 min to enter your bloodstream, so that’s what I’m rolling with.

“What’s this?” As you arrive home, you find a package on your front steps. A small note is tied to it with a delicate purple ribbon. Taking a moment to read the attached note, your face lights up with joy. “Ooo, I need to share this with Astarion!”

You find your vampiric love in front of his favorite spot of the house– the fireplace. Considering how cold it is outside, you’re unsurprised to find him laid before it, like a lounging feline. “Astarion,” you call, checking to see if he’s awake.

He looks up at you hazily, shaking off what seems to be a heat-induced stupor. “Mmm, yes my love? Welcome home.”

“Astarion,” you say again, “Look at what Alfira sent us!”

The man finally sits up, eyes focusing on the package in your hands. “Alfira?” he asks, not fully processing your words yet.

“She sent us this thank you gift,” you say, handing Astarion the box as you move to take off your coat. “You should read her note.”

He pulls the piece of parchment free from the ribbon and reads it aloud, “To my favorite inspirational couple. Thank you for everything, and may the– ugh, she’s too saccharine for my liking.”

“Oh?” you ask, taking a seat next to Astarion on the floor. “I quite liked it. ‘May the ballad of your love continue forevermore.’”

“I may have to ensure that that song she’s writing about us never sees the light of day…” the vampire says in a low tone, though you know the threat has no genuine animosity to it.

You do still give him a good elbow and take the box back from him. “If you’re not going to appreciate that poor, innocent bard’s gift, I will.”

Astarion gives a ‘tsk’, but smiles at you all the same. “Very well, let’s see what she’s sent us.”

With deft fingers, you undo the box’s wrapping, slicing open the ribbon in a single twist. You can feel Astarion’s chuckle as he leans forward to rest his head on your shoulder. “What’s so funny?”

“Just admiring how easily you dispatch your foes, whether they be brain or box,” he answers, and you catch his appreciative smirk out of the corner of your eye.

You give an inelegant snort at his words before tapping his head with your own. “You should see what I can do to vampires.”

"Oh darling, I know full well how easily you dispatch me."

You’re certain he can feel the heat come over your face and neck, but you ignore his words as you open the box in your lap. “Huh,” is the only word that escapes your mouth when you look at its contents.

“Are those chocolates?” Astarion asks, looking down at the box with distaste. In it lay four rows of artisanal chocolates, each a distinct, beautifully tempered delicacy. “She knows I’m a vampire, doesn’t she?"

“Absolutely, she kept asking me for words that rhyme with sanguine,” you say, looking down at the box of sweets in confusion.

Astarion opens his mouth, as if to offer a rhyme, only to close it a second later. “What does rhyme with sanguine?”

“Hells if I know, I’m not a bard,” you answer with a shrug. Astarion grumbles at the sudden movement and leans further into your shoulder with a huff. “Why did she send us something you can’t eat?”

That’s when you spot another note from Alfira, in much more casual lettering, on the inside of the box. ‘I wasn’t sure what I could get for Astarion. I don’t know how his kind work exactly, but I know he calls you his’– the next word is written in a smaller, slightly shakier hand– ‘treat.’ The note continues normally after that. ‘So I hope it’s something you can have together.’

You laugh at how innocent she manages to be, even in writing. “She’s adorable.”

The man next to you takes offense to this, burying his face in your neck now. “Excuse me,” he murmurs into your skin. “You dare.” He places a kiss on your neck. “Say that.” A kiss on your jaw. “With your adorable.” Another kiss on your ear. “Lover right here?”

His pecks leave your skin heated, and you’re tempted to give into his loving attention. However the chocolates look delectable and Alfira’s suggestion is calling to you. “Would that adorable lover listen to me for a moment?”

His lips stop on your shoulder, and he looks at you through his lashes. “You have five seconds.”

It takes you a bit over five seconds, but you explain to Astarion your plan: you taste the chocolate, he tastes your blood. You rinse and repeat until, ideally, you’re both in a sugar-induced coma.

After placing another kiss on your neck, near where he typically bites, the vampire agrees. “Your blood does taste particularly heavenly after a few glasses of wine. I imagine this could be even more… exquisite.” He all but growls the last word, as if he can already taste your sweet blood on his tongue.

You shiver under his breath and grab your first chocolate: a circular truffle, decorated with a pink drizzle. “Let’s try it then.”

This chocolate is a dark chocolate raspberry truffle, incredibly decadent and delicious. You describe it to Astarion as you chew, in case it might make tasting your blood all the more satisfying. After enough time has passed to allow the chocolate’s sugar to enter your bloodstream, he gives you a gentle squeeze with his arms and bites into your neck.

You can feel his soft hum on your skin as he savors it, and he pulls away a second later. “So?” you ask. “How was it?”

Astarion licks his lips to capture any remaining traces of blood and gives you a pleased grin. His cheeks are flushed and his eyes are bright with bliss. “Mmm, I think Alfira was onto something. That was divine. I don’t think your blood’s ever been so… rich.”

There’s something about his demeanor, his expression, his compliment, that make you feel especially proud. “Should we try another?”

“Yes, my love. I would like that quite a bit,” he says, laying back on your shoulder while you pick out your next chocolate.

It’s only as you’re chewing your third sweet, a warm apple cider flavor, that you realize why you’re so proud: for the very first time since you’ve known Astarion, you’re able to share a piece of your mortality with him. Flavors may not be the same to him anymore, he may not get the chewy nougat or melting caramel, but it’s something– at the very least you can share this.

The smiles you share that night are warm, the flavors sensational, and the love so very sweet.

You’ll have to send Alfira your own thank you gift later.

#astarion #astarion x tav #fanfic #rogue + rogue #astarion x reader #bg3holidayfluffle23

124 notes · View notes

lyxzeun · 2 years

Text

royalty au ;; headcanons <3

albedo has definitely been that one smart, brainy prince that has that big library in the palace, although he’d be ready to drop every single book in his hands to see you anytime of day.

alhaitham has been a huge gentleman even if you are to serve him, though, he is much more gentle with you than others, such as tucking you in with a blanket, offering you a glass of water, and things as such. it’s just a way to treat his beloved (servant, maybe more?).

ayato is a tease, though he sees that your reactions to him teasing you quite fun, he still thinks that seeing your caring smile and fond actions to him are better than seeing you flustered.

most caring and smug at times, baizhu is yet to have more interactions with you in a mix of affectionate fluff and affectionate teasing. in ways as in; having you sit on his lap, hugging you from behind tightly, yet his lips are pressed to your shoulder.

capitano is just as formal as any royal should be, yet in a touch of affection, he has always seemed to pay attention to you, when the other servants would simply say “lord capitano hates me! he doesn’t pay attention to any of us at all!”… well… he could have favoritism?

childe, the most teasing and chaotic prince of all. some may think he’s just a playboy unable to reveal his own emotions by a mask on his face without his eyes glinting, yet whenever he’s just alone with you, his long gone glint in his eyes come back, feeling a sense of safety with you.

cyno is quite intimidating at first, yet when he warms up, everything about his world has been revealed to you, up to old memories, palace secrets, and even the old truth of some historical events.

dainsleif is the most mysterious one of all of the princes, most likely because of that mask that has been on his face the first time you’ve met him, although one night, you walked into his room in order to give him his nightly tea, yet one thing you felt off was… he didn’t have a mask on..? he looks charming, but yet dainsleif isn’t able to keep his cool, unable to hide a blush on his face, just by seeing you.

diluc is quite a stern, formal prince, most likely so that he’ll be known to be “worthy” to be crowned king after his fathers death, yet behind closed doors, he’s been craving touch of any kind, especially when it’s from you. he’d be inviting you to his quarters before he sleeps just to hold you in his arms for a while.

dottore has been inviting you in his lab for many times, just to pull you away from your own work to have you trapped in his embrace, sighing cold air onto your collarbone as he places a trail of kisses all towards your jawline.

as generous as he is, gorou still won’t be as used to your affectionate gestures to him in his quarters, especially when he wakes up. your fond smile and a soft whisper of “good morning” to him is just enough to have him swoon.

heizou is just as curious as you in palace secrets, and as a good prince he is, at times he’ll find the urge to flirt with you in front of anyone. you find it flustering yet hilarious that he says things like; “y/n… you’re so dreamy… come back in bed…” -when he’s half asleep.

itto is a cheerful, sunshine kind of prince, one that would never keep away from conversations. sometimes when he goes on a walk with you, some of the grandmothers on the street may say “oh look! the prince has finally fallen in love..”

kaeya has never been more happier with you, because once he knew that you cared for him truly, he couldn’t take his attention off of you, some may say the prince hasn’t been any more fond of one person since one familiar departure.

kazuha writes you poems of the ways you smile, laugh, or even about the ways you cared about him, not just because he’s a prince that you should serve, but because you care for him so dearly.

pantalone was always the type to spoil you; before and after his day starts. usually by buying you your favorite things in life, but you insist that he shouldn’t, it’s supposed to be the other way around…

pierro has always been the stern yet caring king, most always towards you. he’s been protecting you by the times you’ve always went out with him in public. when seeing you with your family, he can’t help but feel a small smile on his face, whenever he sees yours.

scaramouche is the most demanding one of all the princes listed, but now that he’s gotten closer with you, he can’t even bare to say such words of fierce, by ordering you. his speech comes to “hey, servant! get me a glass of wine, will you?” to “y/n… get me some wine… please..”

thoma is just as generous and kind to anyone else, just by his duty as a prince, but after the day is done, he always looks forward to you being in his quarters, talking to him about his day. certain things like that makes his heart flutter with joy.

tighnari always invites you to the palace garden to have you read books to him, but honestly? he just needed your voice to lull him to sleep.

venti sings sweet songs that he wrote just for you, from the way you act to him and to the way you smile fondly with a stare of endearment to him.

xiao is mostly quite blunt the first time you met him, but just after a few months, his sentence; “y/n, i would like to discuss a private matter to you in my quarters.” turns to “y/n, are you coming back again to my quarters? i miss you.”

zhongli has always told you stories of the past, but everytime he actually tells you those stories, some words slip past his mouth, just one like after telling a story of lovers, he could mutter out; “maybe it could be us soon.”

— vale speaks ! .. i’m back :O, anyways scaramouches and dottores was VERY biased (due to it being SUGGESTIVE??) , anyways ty ty tysm for 200 followz^_^ i appreciate u all truly!!

2K notes · View notes

jojikawa · 2 years

Text

𝙌𝙐𝙀𝙀𝙉𝘿𝙊𝙈

wc: 2.4k

tw// NSFW, Fem-bodied reader, reader is AT LEAST bisexual, size difference (Junker Queen is 7ft while reader is average female height) Reader is sexually attracted to power.

meg·a·lo·ma·ni·ac

/ˌmeɡələˈmānēˌak/

noun

a person who is obsessed with their own power.

adjective

exhibiting megalomania.

“I wanna become Queen!”

That’s what Odessa thought to herself when she was finally ready to challenge the current king. She entered the Reckoning as a wastelander and was booed immediately. No person of her stature had ever made it to the Reckoning before. She would prove their doubts wrong and take the crown. King Howl has never lost. Not in 13 years.

This will be his last Reckoning.

Odessa already knew that she would have to fight Howl by the end. What she didn’t expect was to see a small pretty woman sitting on his lap. The head of his mech opened with his hands secured around your waist.

You looked so soft and pretty. All Odessa could do was think about how someone like you could end up with him. She also couldn’t believe the rumors she had heard about you too. Apparently, you became Queen from fighting every wife Mason Howl had, tooth and nail.

The story went like…

“Queen (y/n) was an outsider. She didn’t come from the wasteland either. She got to the Reckoning and when She and Mason were the last ones standing, she offered herself to him. He accepted.”

Or something like that. Dez didn’t care. She assumed that you were probably taken from some wasteland village. Forced to marry Mason. She would liberate you. Then the Reckoning began.

During her fight, Odessa noticed that you had been staring at her quite fondly. Your fox-like eyes would narrow at her with an attractive smile. She likes the way your plump lips would curve at the sight of her winning. It was short-lived. Mason had tossed you to the side and was ready to fight to maintain his power.

From a safe distance, you watch your miserable husband lose. Falling to the ground as he squirmed and whimpered. You couldn’t help but smile more.

But now that everything is over…what about you?

Odessa went to you once the citizens began to clear out. You didn’t look like you were from here at all. You stood out so easily. She was surprised to see that you weren’t upset about the whole event. This meant that you were forced to be here, right?

You hadn’t said a word yet. You gave her another smile. Your smile was so pretty. Your fox-like eyes were closed but your eyelashes were very present. Long and full.

Odessa rested her shotgun on the back part of her shoulder with her axe in her other hand. “You, uh, don’t gotta stay here, ya know.” The bigger woman avoided eye contact. The crown on her head felt more and more present as she looked at you. This was…awkward.

“Why would I need to leave?”

“‘Cause, you don’t gotta be here. I’m the Queen now. He doesn't control you.” She elaborated, still refusing to make any sort of acknowledgment towards you. This made you smirk and you snaked your way closer to her. “…but what if I want you?”

Odessa perked up, finally looking at you in the face. Your beauty made her highly uncomfortable. What was she supposed to say to you?

“What?” Was all she could bring herself to say. This made you giggle. “Come with me.” You replied, grabbing her arm and tugging her in your direction. Odessa took one last look around. Almost everyone was basically gone from the event. She was supposed to go drink and celebrate her win at this time, but you gave her such a sense of mystery.

She chose you.

“Alright, fine.”

You led her to some part of Junkertown that no one else was allowed to be. She’s never seen it before. It was assumed that this is where the leader of the town would stay. It almost looked like a high-end part of town but every single building belonged to just her…and you. The two of you had been walking for a long time in silence before you finally said something.

“So, what’s your name?” You asked politely. You noticed that she was walking with you now in contrast to you pulling her to follow. She was definitely an Amazon of a woman. She was an entire two feet taller than you…but she didn’t scare you.

“Dez,” Odessa answered dryly. “Hm.” You half-smiled, not exactly believing her. “That’s a nickname. I asked for your name.” You uttered firmly, giving off an energy that wasn’t as soft as Dez believed you to be. She knitted her eyebrows together at you. “Aye! My name is whatever I say it is. I’m your Queen. I can have you thrown out like your lil boyfriend too!” She snapped. You could tell she was trying a little too hard.

“If you ask me, you should’ve killed him.” Your voice was still firm but it was sweet and generally nice to listen to.

Odessa would be lying if she said she hadn’t been caught off guard by this. Kill Mason Howl? What was your deal? Sure, he threw her family out. She had been plotting to take him down for years…but she wanted him to be alive to suffer for what he had done.

“Kill ‘em? Why?” The bigger woman looked down at you. You were nonchalantly unlocking the door of some kind of room. It almost looked like a hotel suite. “Because…” You muttered. “…those who are unworthy are unfit to live.”

Ugh. Eerie.

“The best thing about being Queen is the executions! But let’s not focus on him anymore. He’s in the wasteland.” You pulled her inside with you. “This is where you’ll be sleeping.” You told her. She looked around before shrugging. “Ain’t bad.”

“I’m glad you think so. I’ll run your bath.” You smiled kindly before disappearing into a nearby room. Odessa sat on the nearby couch. It’s not something she had ever seen in the wasteland or Junkertown. The stuff in this room was clearly made and shipped from outside of the town. “A bath? For what? I’m supposed to be at the bar celebratin’, ya know-?!” She yelled at you but there was no response. You emerged from the bathroom.

You were…

…naked?

“We are celebrating.” You replied seductively, finally making your way over to her. Your body was small but your breasts were perky with a heavy bottom. It was similar to an hourglass figure. You straddled her lap and were beginning to initiate before she stopped you. “What? Do you prefer the company of men?” You tilted your head in a cute way. Dez was as red as a tomato. There’s no way this was happening but she surely wasn’t turning you away.

“No.”

“Then what is it…?” You learned close to the Queen’s ear, whispering just close enough where she could feel your breath on her ear. You ground your exposed cunt on her leg. “You don’t gotta do this.” Dez gave you a worried look but still instinctively held you by your waist.

“Silly girl.” You laughed. “I was never Mason’s hostage.” You lowered your head and placed wet kisses on the inside of her neck. “Then why are you here?” She moved her head out of the way for the kisses and enjoyed them fully without even realizing it.

“It’s because I want to be Queen.” You narrowed your eyes and stopped grinding. You made a mess on her pant leg but Dez didn’t mind at all. “You do this with Mason too?” She frowned. You smiled deviously. “Every night.”

“So, it true you gave yourself up?”

You grabbed her free hand, guiding her to your thigh. She rubbed it tenderly with her thumb for a brief moment. You moved your hands up your body to your breast. Her thumb then brushed over your nipple and made you bite your lip just a bit. The faces you made were so pretty. Her hand then rested on your cheek, which you nuzzled into. “Gave myself up?” You said in a tone of disbelief. “That’s a matter of perspective. I believe I spared him.”

“So why not kill ‘im yourself and be the Queen? How do I know you won’t try to kill me?”

“Shh.” You placed a finger over your lips. “Does it look like I’m trying to kill you? Relax.” You rubbed your hands over her abs, going as far as to slip them under her shirt. She was a woman who didn’t wear much of a bra, so it was easy to access the best part.

Odessa exhaled loudly through her mouth at your touch. Her hands got lower and lower from your waist to your ass. Her big hands squeezed it firmly before jiggling it perfectly. Your nipples hardened and your pussy continued to make juices that wet the better part of her pants. Maybe this would be better than a night of drinking!

Dez couldn’t remember the last time she was with someone that wasn’t a whore paid to be there. She was surprised that anyone wanted to lay with her for free. Were you doing this because she was Queen now?

“Aye.” She called you but you didn’t respond. You moved the kissing from her neck to her face. The only thing she could do was turn red and hold you close. She wanted so badly to kiss your lips. “Why are you doing this…?”

“Don’t ruin the moment.” You whispered before finally pressing your lips to hers. “You ask too many questions.”

Dez finally relaxed, kissing you back and allowing herself to fall deep into your web of pleasure. Her hands on your body were more gentle than any man's would be. It made you feel different.

You’ve always heard the saying that it’s only girls that know what girls want. Perhaps, it was true. You pulled away from her. Her eyes were closed and her lips were still puckered and waiting for more. “Come bathe with me.” You whispered as you got up from her lap. You went into the other room but as you went through the door, you beckoned Odessa seductively.

You had completely disappeared before she finally got up and followed you. When she arrived, you were already in the tub. The water was soapy and had become too cloudy. She couldn’t see your naked body. “Join me.” You beckoned the bigger woman again.

“I ain’t gettin’ in no water.” Dez snapped once she realized the possibilities. You could drown her if you wanted, right? She’s been around enough to understand all the ways she could die.

“Aw.” You playfully pouted, making her lose eye contact. “Then maybe you can wash me.” You shifted inside of the water, causing her to see more of you. The suds covered your body so well. It made her want you again.

‘Fuck it.’ She thought to herself.

And before you knew it, Odessa had undressed and got in with you. You smirked at the situation. You loved having control.

Dez eyed you carefully as you grabbed the cleaning tools and shifted toward her. She let you wash her body, getting all the dirt and grime from being around. It felt nice to have a proper bath. Done by a pretty young lady, no less. She was beginning to really feel like the Queen she’s always seen herself as.

She found herself pawing at your breasts and lower abdomen. Your skin was soft and supple. Your nipples were hard and yearning to be sucked. “Wanting more so soon?” You questioned, giving her a small smile. Dez’s face didn’t change. She shamelessly stared at your assets.

“Just say the words.” You cooed as you gently cleaned her skin with the soft washcloth. Dez furrowed her eyebrows and bit at her lip before finally blurting it out.

“Alright. C’mere.” She barked, pulling you to her by your waste. You released the cloth into the water and held onto her for support. You felt her other hand slip between your legs. Her breath hitched at the feeling of your clean-shaven lips against her fingertips. Without warning, she shoved her fingers inside, causing you to moan loudly.

“Y-You like that, don’t cha?” Her voice was awkward. The statement sounded better in her head. Was she trying to talk dirty? You smiled seductively and humored her. “Yes, I do~”

“Make me cum, my Queen.” You leaned close to her ear. Your head sat in the crook of her neck as she fucked you with her long digits. “You’re so tight.” The woman commented. “Like a virgin.”

You giggled. “Oh yeah? Would you like to be my first then?”

Odessa’s eyes widened. She stopped for a brief moment and eyed you. “You a virgin?” This made you laugh even more. “No. Tightness being associated with virginity is a common misconception.” You told her. “Real women will always be tight.”

You didn’t want to hear anything else from her. You closed the distance and kissed her again. You had already succeeded in leaving your mark on her. Now she would never let you go. She pulled away from you and reattached her lips to your erect nipples. Her tongue did wonders for you, making you finish much sooner than you expected. She hasn’t even done oral for you yet.

“You please me.” You patted her head, almost like a dog. A person like her saw this as affectionate. To anyone else? Who knows.

You looked so beautiful with a euphoric expression from creaming like that. It made her wonder something, though. She didn’t exactly feel special once she processed the situation. “Aye.” She barked at you. “Yes?” You answered sweetly, rubbing her cheek with your thumb. “You’d do this if someone else won too, right?”

“If I said yes, would that be bad?” You tilted your head in a cute way. She wanted to be upset but she couldn’t. You were just too pretty. “I dunno.” She muttered.

You narrowed your eyes at her but your smile didn’t fade. You grabbed her face by her jaw, making her look at you. “You have power and I want to be the Queen. I killed for this crown.” You hissed. This was so unexpected from your gentle nature. “Lose a Reckoning and you’ll never see me again.”

You expected Odessa to be upset or even afraid of your actions…but she wasn’t. She smirked at you before giving you a hardy laugh.

“I guess I better not lose then.”

#Overwatch #Overwatch x Reader #Overwatch Imagines #Overwatch Headcanons #Overwatch smut #Junker Queen #Junker Queen x reader #Odessa Stone x reader #Dez x reader #lesbian smut #Junker Queen smut #Junker Queen Headcanons #female reader #female x female #honeymaron #Junker Queen Imagines

1K notes · View notes

takami-takami · 1 year

Text

TW: Trauma implied, trauma reaction. hurt/comfort.

Keigo has the patience of a saint, and you try to remind yourself of that fact as you hiccup yet another hitched breath into the cotton of his pillowcase. You sit up, knees bunched to your chest. How many times have you done this, you chastise yourself?

How many times have you winced away from his familiar gaze? No one you've ever known has had golden eyes, you remind yourself. No one else you've known has his bone structure, has the same voicebox to produce that smooth and, as you thank god for, unique voice of his. You remind yourself over and over; but sometimes when he opens himself up to you, you flinch back like he's the walking skeleton of a person buried deep within your muscle memory.

You know he would never hurt you. He's not them, he's not fucking them.

But when love has always looked like a threat, has always tasted of foul and bitter taboo, it's difficult not to see him with that very same mask over his gentle features.

The way he blinks at you, his eyes practically trembling with the weight of his empathy; it doesn't assuage your guilt one bit. His hand lifts for a second, aching to soothe you, before ultimately dropping back down and gripping the sheets.

"I'm sorry," you blubber.

"Dove, don't be. It's okay," he says like the whisper of a lullaby. "It's okay."

He watches you, tilting his head and wearing that damn wobbly smile of his.

"No, it's not. None of this is," you explain, a familiar indignation stemming from instincts of self-preservation welling up in your throat. A single hand waves in frustration as you stare at some corner of the room.

"You don't deserve this. You don't deserve to be looked at like you're a monster just because I can't get a grip on my–"

"On your trauma," he finishes, before you have the chance to demean your experiences. Times like these, you're eternally grateful for his tendency to speak the unspoken. "Baby, what you're feeling is natural. Of course you'd be wary. I'm not upset. I'm not upset," he assures you.

"Look at me?"

You meet his eyes instantly. He softens further, if that were possible.

"We'll take this at your own pace. There's no need to rush." He notices the way you pull at the cotton with anxiety, and a feather makes its way to your hand as an offering. You gratefully accept it, pinching at the soft bristles to ground yourself.

"Can you hold me?" You look up at him through your lashes as you ask, and Keigo doesn't bother to hide his sigh of relief. His wings have been twitching at the sight of you in need, and the itch finally stops as he nods and you crawl into his lap. He grips you softly, like a teddy bear, and silently thanks you for allowing him to take care of you with his very own love language.

"Thank you, Kei," you whisper.

"Always, angel. Always."

#going back to my roots with a keigo helping you with your trauma drabble #hawks x reader #keigo takami x reader #🖋 writing #🍧 sugar #mha imagines #bnha imagines #tw trauma

288 notes · View notes

anki-of-beleriand · 1 year

Text

Bad Liar Ch.3

Summary: Life is about lessons, and Wanda has been learning some harsh facts that had define her life and taken her to a place in which she was given a second chance. Then, all of a sudden, she meets you, and she realizes why it's easier to lie to yourself than to accept what's right in front of her.

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff/ Female!reader - America/Kate - Mentions of past Vision/Wanda - past Natasha/Reader - Some Female!Reader/Carol Danvers - Past Shuri/Female!Reader

Warnings: Slow burn - Enemies to friends to lovers - Mentions of abusive relationships - Toxic relationships - angst - drama - mentions of abuse - more tags as the story progress.

Author's note: Yes, I'm back!! Life has not been kind as of late, and it has been hard for me to come back and write, but now I am here and hopefully with more than one single chapter. Thank you guys for staying and reading the stories. This chapter will show a Bitchy Reader and a very much lost Wanda, we will see that moving forward is harder than we think and sometimes, we just don't know how to do so.

Wanda will start learning that sometimes we don't get what we want, or what we think we deserve due to our failures. but instead of that we get what we need and we are given a second chance to heal and to be ourselves with the right person. Next chapter, we will learn more about Reader and why she is the way she is, and Wanda will start learning more about the people around her, with just a hint of jealousy in the mix.

Remember that English is not my mother tongue, so I apologise for any grammar, spelling or funny mistake. I hope you guys enjoy this!

Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3 - Chapter 4 - Chapter 5 - Chapter 6 - Chapter 7 - Chapter 8 - Chapter 9 - Chapter 10 - Chapter 11 - Chapter 12 - Chapter 13 - Chapter 14 - Chapter 15 - Chapter 16 - Chapter 17 - Chapter 18

Chapter 3

The uncertainty of life

You received the cup of coffee she was offering you with a smile.

The night before you were giving entrance to the life of the woman standing before you, she had taken you into a part of her world you never thought you would have access to and this in itself scared you to death. The very first moment the both of you started this affair, you promised one another to not get any feelings involved. It had been a deal, it had been a rule, the moment things changed you would speak and break things up as amicable as you could.

Now, sitting on her kitchen, with her smiling at you and stealing a kiss before letting go of the mug filled with coffee you knew you were in deep trouble. Carol Danvers let her lips danced sensually against yours, her smile bright and full of life as she leaned back winking at you. You lowered your gaze to the mug, your heart hammering against your chest and your body tingling all over ready to take the silent invitation she was extending with such a kiss.

“How are you doing this morning, beautiful?” Her voice dripped smugness; her eyes gleaming brightly as you raised a brow at her.

You chuckled trying to get a hold of your emotions before shrugging nonchalantly.

“It was oaky, I guess…I mean, it could be better, you know?” You shrugged half amused at the flash of uncertainty in her eyes. “If I have slept at all last night, or not being awake so rudely this morning I bet this morning would have been even better.”

Carol laughed shaking her head, she couldn’t help but leaned in to sit on your lap, her arms around your neck.

“You didn’t like the way I wake you up?” Her question came with a hint of teasing, but you knew pretty much that Carol wanted the reassurance.

Just as you had suffered in the past, Carol was still getting out of a bad moment in her life and while she pretended to be tough and confident the reality was that she was more vulnerable that what everyone thought of her. It was one of the things you like the most about her, you leaned in accepting the kisses she placed on your lips and face, your hands on her waist putting her closer.

“I love it, but now I’m completely drained of energy and will go home to sleep a little.” The moment was broken with your words, Carol tensed lightly though she never lost her smile or her posture.

“Perhaps, I can go with you?” Carol gauged your reaction, her arms loosing up her hold on you when she read in your eyes the answer.

It wasn’t as if you were not ready for a relationship, the truth was that you weren’t looking for one at the moment. Carol presented you with a chance to have a distraction in your life and, at some point, you knew this could turn out to be a bad idea for the both of you. Your life was still a mess, and Carol had her life figure it out and, by the way she touched you, she talked to you, she looked at you…you knew she had a place for you in her plans. In her life.

The real question in here, and the question she hadn’t dared to voice yet was if you were ready to be a part of her life and let her be a part of yours.

“Carol I…” She pursed her lips standing up and taking a few steps away from you, you missed her warmth right away and a shiver ran down your back at the coldness behind her stare when she looked back at you.

“Right, too soon.” She turned around, her eyes glistening lightly though she clenched her jaw and held back whatever show of emotion that would betray her broken heart.

You opened your mouth to speak but nothing came, there was a weight around your chest and your hand trembled slightly with your eyes following Carol around the kitchen. She busied herself with the breakfast, her back to you though you were sure she had been affected for your lack of silence, your lack of commitment and honesty. Your phone vibrated, lightning up to show the morning message from America.

“I think she is worried about you, you didn’t call her last night.” Carol mumbled. “You can get ready while I finish breakfast, you’re staying for breakfast, right?”

You lifted your head, her eyes locking with yours and if you didn’t know her you would say she was unfazed by what had happened. Yet there was no longer the usual warmth she held in them for you, and her face was tensed holding onto her real emotions.

“Right, I…yeah, I’m staying for breakfast. Let me…I’m going to take a shower.”

It was past midday when you finally went back home.

The morning ended with Carol sneaking inside the shower and the both of you giving in temptation without a single word. Rain and bad weather followed you all the way back to your home, America and Tony writing like crazy asking for details and for you to reveal a great adventure that would probably end in love and in a happily ever after.

You sighed grabbing the wheel between your hands with force, it wasn’t going to happen. Carol knew, and yet both of you would continue with the game until someone was brave enough to stop it. With thoughts assaulting your mind, you turned on your street ready to go to your room and rest while America did her babysitter job.

There was a lot you needed to think of, and at the moment, you just wanted to run from all of it.

______________________________________________________________

“…And Tommy loves going to bed with his blue blanket, thought right now is in the dryer. Billy usually hides his T-Rex, and forgets where when he also wants to take a nap….” Wanda trailed off standing by the door with a teenage girl glancing at her highly amused.

“Is this your first time leaving them behind?” America couldn’t help but ask in a teasing manner, she shifted slightly when the woman flustered looking away before returning with a tense smile on her lips.

“It’s…it has been a while.” Wanda confessed without giving into detail, America shifted softening her expression while lifting her phone.

“I’ll be a call away from you, Mrs. Maximoff, and if anything happens, I swear to you I’ll call, and my sister is actually right next door.” America tried to reassure the other woman while glancing back at where the twins were watching some TV. “I promise you I’ll take care of them.”

Wanda bit her lower lip nodding, the uncertainty America could read in her face along with the many precautions the woman seemed to be taken raised alarms inside the young woman. But America decided to not dig in, and instead tried to reassure her teacher that everything would be alright. She still remembered how Y/N used to panic whenever she needed it to leave America alone even though she was way beyond needing a babysitter.

“Thank you, America. I know I sound like a crazy woman, but…” Wanda took a deep breathe, the anxiousness of leaving the house without her children brough to her the memories of those times in which Vision would stay behind while she was made to go to the church. Or those times, in which Vision would leave with the kids leaving her behind locked and without any means to contact them.

The moments in which she feared he would keep up with his threats.

“I just…I haven’t been away from them in a long time, and since I’m alone in the city, it’s harder than I thought it would be.”

“I understand, don’t worry.”

Wanda offered a shaky smile to the teen before finally giving the last few steps out of the house.

“I will be here around five, if anything happens…” Wanda left the sentence in the air, waving away the answer while she walked down the lane to her car.

“I’ll take care of them, Mrs. Maximoff. Be careful!” America watched as the woman went into her car and then drove away down the main street.

The sound of the TV filled the sudden silence, and America furrowed her brows when her eyes went to the parking spot on her home. Your car was there, America unlocked her phone only to discover you hadn’t written to her yet. She sighed shaking her head, closing the door behind her she realized the twins were on the sofa, with wide eyes glancing at her.

“Okay, guys, it seems we are alone.” She said smiling at them, Tommy and Billy winced looking around the room before settling big, terrified eyes on her.

“Is…is daddy coming?” Billy asked in a thin voice, Tommy wrapped his small arm around Billy looking hopefully at America who came to them confused.

“Ah, no, no it will be only me and you guys.” America watched as, after a few seconds, the twins let out a shaky breath lifting their hands to her.

“You mean it?” Tommy asked this time around, America swallowed down the many questions forming on her mind.

These kids were looking terrified, and now they were looking so hopeful. She nodded walking around the sofa to sit in between them.

“Yep, it would be you two and me for a while, so…what you guys wanna do?”

Tommy and Billy turned to the main door, after a while they turned to America snuggling closer and watching the TV.

“Can we see a movie?” Tommy asked.

“I want ice cream.” Billy mumbled taking his thumb inside his mouth. “Is mummy seeing daddy?”

America felt the kids tensed under such a question, they were trembling and the young woman had to wonder who the hell was their father to provoke such a reaction from them. She glanced from one twin to the other before wrapping her arms around them protectively.

“No, she went to see a friend.” America offered a comforting smile. “Because she is new in her job and needs some help. But she will be back, so don’t worry guys, I’ll take care of you until she comes, deal?”

Tommy and Billy nodded, smiling a little at her.

“So, let’s bring ice cream and them, let’s watch a movie, which one you want to see?”

“Paw Patrol!”

“Noo, Jurassic Park!!”

“No, Paw Patrol!”

“Jurassic Park!”

America observed the interaction, her mind still going into the strange interaction she had with Wanda and now with what the twins had revealed. Not for the first time, America had to wonder what was happening with her new teacher. With a moment of hesitation, she then went right to her phone writing a quick summary of the recent events to her group of friends before she settled the movie discussion and got the ice cream ready.

______________________________________________________________

Hope Van Dyne was a smart, young woman that had dedicated her life to the family business.

For a while, and while she was finishing her major in psychology, she was the main support for her father and the small business of technology and medical supplies he had built with her mother. As she got to meet people back in the University, and her life took her through the tumultuous path of women in trouble the young woman knew her call was to help.

Watching the young woman sitting right in front of her, with her fears and desperation, Hope knew she had made the best decision in her career path. She wished for this young woman to find a way out of the fear her partner had inflicted in her.

“It’s a pleasure to finally meet you, Wanda.” Hope placed the cup of tea in front of Wanda before she too sat on her chair with a cup of her own. “Natasha has told me somethings about you, and your children. How are they? Was it difficult to get them a babysitter?”

Wanda opened her eyes at the question, at first, she thought this meeting would be only for her to start talking. To tell everyone about how foolish she had been, how weak and incapable of running away from her marriage she had been. The mention of her children took a weight from her chest and mind, she relaxed into the sofa smiling softly at the memory of their smiles.

“They…they are fine. One of my students offered her help, so I guess…” Wanda trailed off, tears started forming in her eyes. “This is…I mean…I hope they are okay.”

Not sooner had she said this, she put her phone out only to see pictures of the twins watching Jurassic Park with a bowl of ice cream. America had sent the message while explaining to her that there would be no more sweets through the rest of the afternoon. Wanda felt the warmness of her tears rolling down her cheeks, Hope observed this in silence without any specific expression on her face.

After a minute or two, Wanda shook away her stupor and lifted her face to show uncertainty in her stare.

“This is the first time I leave them with someone that isn’t Vision.” She mumbled wincing at the mention of her husband.

Hope nodded lightly taking a sip from her tea, “my boyfriend, Scott, was in India last month. He had to leave Cassie, his daughter behind, and I have to take care of her. It was quite difficult over all because she is at that teenage age in which they know more about life than us.”

Wanda offered a shaky smile, but Hope leaned in nodding towards the cup on the table.

“He brought the most amazing tea I have ever tasted. I hope you don’t mind but I want to share this with you.” Hope tilted her head observing as Wanda opened her eyes wide, her hands were trembling as she grabbed the mug in her hands taking a sip from the warm beverage.

“It’s…it’s nice.”

“Do you like tea, Wanda?” Hope asked, Wanda furrowed her brows before nodding.

“I…I do.”

Another moment of silence, Wanda started drinking her tea with her eyes downcast hearing her own breathing and waiting for the other woman to start talking. This was her first time with a therapist, and she wasn’t sure what the other woman was waiting from her; in all honestly, she was waiting for this to be a full revealed of how miserable her life had been. Of how foolish she was for thinking things would change. For how much she deserved everything that happened to her.

“Wanda.” Hope stated in a soft voice, Wanda hesitated but finally dared to look into Hope’s eyes and what she saw there was no pity or sympathy.

What she saw there was understanding.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry I just…” Wanda took a deep breath, more tears, her trembling hands put the mug on the table and she wrapped them around her midsection leaning in. “I don’t know…I’m not…sorry I just…”

Wanda started bouncing while her eyes closed tightly, tears started falling freely as the memories of everything that had happened came to her. Hope waited until the young woman started sobbing, she stood up making her way to the sofa, sitting right beside Wanda until the young woman was leaning against her.

This would be a difficult case. But Hope already knew this, and she had promised Natasha she would do everything she could to help Wanda.

The afternoon was completely cold and dark.

Wanda put her coat tighter around her body, her green eyes sweeping around the parking lot before they settled on the supermarket entrance. She glanced at the watch on her wrist, she still had time to grab something to eat before going back home. Her first session with Doctor Hope had been awful. She couldn’t stop crying and the rest of the session that was all she could do, that and drink the Doctor’s favourite tea.

The young woman put a hand on her face trying to drown her embarrassment, this was supposed to be her new life without pain or insecurities. Yet she couldn’t stop the tears from falling, her heart from hurting and her mind to overthink everything that had happened since she took the decision of leaving Vision. For the very first time in a very long time, Wanda felt…free.

Cleaning up her tears, she decided it was about time to stop thinking about her therapy and her past. The twins must be waiting for her back home, and she needed to get distracted. That was something Doctor had said to her, to start changing her mindset, to change her routine…to do things that not only distracted her from the darkness of her thoughts but also that could give her a new purpose.

The supermarket was packed that day.

Wanda pursed her lips while walking down the island for the cleaning supplies while making a mental list of what she might need. For the next twenty minutes, Wanda enjoyed her time in the supermarket deciding which product she preferred or which one she would like to use for the first time.

This time around, she had chosen a different supermarket. The experience she had two days prior while trying to get the products she wanted and needed had left her with a bittersweet taste and she certainly was not ready to see the other woman again.

This one was far from her street, and perhaps here she would be able to get what her twins enjoyed the most. Wanda set her eyes on her target, her lips curling slightly as she realized there were several flavours of the same Ravioli she was looking for, and the Mac and Cheese her children enjoyed was also on display.

“Woah, are you following me or something?” The voice to her side startled her, Wanda turned around only to see you standing there with a teasing smile on your lips.

You glanced at Wanda half amused, half exasperate to see your neighbour had the exact same idea as yourself. You crunched up your nose, pushing her cart aside and leaning in to grab a couple of boxes from Mac and Cheese.

“Look at that, this time around you won’t cry because I took the last one.”

“Are you…you…” Wanda sputtered still trying to get over the shock of seeing you there grabbing the boxes she had been glancing from the first moment she turned around in the corner.

“What? Cat got your tongue. Or are you really one of those bimbos that like to pretend they are interesting just by looking this prettier?” You inquired tilting your head while giving the woman a quick appreciate glance. “Looking for a sugar daddy or something? To take care of the children?”

You raised an eyebrow at the woman who was flustered, sputtering away while clenching her fists. You shrugged offering a nasty smile before turning away and waving good-bye. Later on, once you were back home with a hundredth and a thousandth thoughts inside your head you would wonder why you were being such a bitch, and why were you so affected to see the woman again.

For now, you were enjoying the effect your words and presence had on her. And how, without a single word, you could just walk away with an imaginary score in your favour inside your head.

Wanda couldn’t believe how stupid she had been.

She grunted in frustration while putting the groceries away inside her trunk, she shook her head while thinking over and over in the conversation she held inside the supermarket. Or rather, in the lack of conversation and the humiliation she felt when finding herself once more with you. Of all the places you could have come to get your groceries you had to go to the same one Wanda had chosen. On the same day!

“Fucking idiot.” Wanda mumbled, whatever pain or suffering or situation she was in, was soon forgotten as all her energy and thoughts were focused on you at the moment. “I don’t even know why she was being a bitch.”

Wanda closed the door behind her, closing her eyes before taking a deep breath. Her hand grabbed the wheel and then she proceeded to turn the car on, soon music started filling the car and she tried to calm herself down. She certainly wanted to leave the place before she had to face you again, once she was back home.

Besides, her children and America must be waiting for her.

She never noticed the car coming from her right, Wanda had distracted herself with her phone and the radio while trying to drive away from the parking lot. What she did notice was the sudden beep of a horn, and the high-pitched sound of screeching tires behind her. She pressed her two feet on the brakes, breathing hard and opening her eyes when she saw the reflection of a car right behind hers.

With trembling hands, she struggled with the belt and the door, and tried to go out and see the damage.

“You are an idiot!”

Wanda winced recognizing the voice, she clenched her fist walking to where the two cars had met ignoring your enrage glare.

“Are you blind besides being plain stupid?”

“Look you…you bitch!” Wanda screamed out pointing a finger at you. “This is your fault!! You don’t have the lights on! How was I supposed to know you were coming from behind!”

“I don’t know, perhaps using your eyes!” You replied looking over at your car. Wanda had been lucky enough to stop herself before any crashing, but that wasn’t the real issue.

The problem was that you had been scared and this was not the first time this woman almost caused an accident. You lifted your face pointing a finger at her.

“I’m tired of your insults, what is your problem with me?” Wanda replied waving away her hands. “Why don’t you accept that you are a bitch and that this was your fault?”

Wanda seemed to finally got out of her system what she was meant to tell you since that very first meeting, she saw you standing there and she knew this time around you were at fault. She pointed to the cars then at you.

“Look, nothing happened, but you better be careful next time!”

“Me? How about you, Princess? Got you thinking about the sugar daddy you may need?” You replied glaring at Wanda, the other woman narrowed her eyes at you shaking her head.

“Fuck you!”

“You wish, Princess. Too bad for you, I don’t like fucking morons.” You replied turning around and going back inside your car.

You hesitated for a moment, your lights were actually off and a part of you realized the redhead might be right. Just a little. With a deep breath, your turned them on and then drove away. You needed to get home before you had to see the woman again.

Wanda clenched her eyes shut, tears formed around them but she refused to let them fall. Not this time around, and certainly not for an idiot like yourself.

Fuck you!

You wish, Princess.

Wanda entered her car fuming, “I wish?? I wish? As if….”

She started the car, this time around looking behind her and making sure no one was coming while she put the car off the parking lot.

You wish, Princess.

Wanda tightened her hands around the wheel, “as if I were to…as if I like women…ugh, fucking idiot.”

______________________________________________________________

America smiled at Wanda just as the woman entered with a couple of bags in her arms, she went right away to help her out while pointing to the living room where the twins were drawing on the floor. Wanda smiled as soon as her eyes fell on her children, both of them highly distracted with the task at hand while America and Wanda made their way to the kitchen.

“How was it, America? I’m sorry it took so long…” She started talking, but the young woman shook her head waving away Wanda’s words.

“Don’t worry, Mrs. Maximoff. They are really lovely and well-behaved, and I know you have things to do.” America watched as Wanda tensed lightly before turning to her with the same shaky smile she usually wore when alone.

“Either way, it’s way past five, let me get my purse and other groceries and I’ll pay you.”

“MOM!” The twins noticed their mum finally there, standing up the ran to her wrapping their arms around the young woman that knelt down to kiss their foreheads.

“Hey, guys, how was your afternoon?”

“It was good!” Tommy lifted his face with a huge grin, Wanda softened slightly remembering that even though she just had a bad experience, everything was worth if by coming home she would see her children’s smiles.

“We watched movies, and then eat ice cream, and then play a game, and then we were drawing, and then we were going to make you dinner!” Billy listed while bouncing on his feet.

America chuckled turning to Wanda who stood up offering a thankful glance.

“Thank you for taking care of them, really.”

“Not a problem, Mrs. Maximoff. Let me help you with the other bags and then I will be out.”

It didn’t take them more than a couple of minutes to put all the bags inside the house, Wanda watched as Tommy and Billy went back to their drawing and America got ready to leave.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to take you home?” Wanda asked again, her eyes glancing at the window in which was quite evident night had fallen.

America chuckled pointing to the street, and the house next door.

“I literally live right beside you, Mrs. Maximoff, so don’t worry. If you want I can text you once I’m home.” America warmed up when the woman offered a half smile nodding.

“That would be good, yes.” Wanda walked the woman out offering the payment for her job with just a little extra. “Here, thank you for everything and sorry about the delay, once more.”

“Don’t worry, ma’am, it was a pleasure. Have a good night!”

Wanda stood there for a moment, there was something bothering her about the situation but she wasn’t quite sure what it was. With some hesitation she turned around and closed the door.

“So, who wants to help me make dinner and cookies?” Her smile brightened up her face when both kids stood up squealing while running towards the kitchen; the look of happiness and peace in their faces was everything Wanda needed it. Was everything she was looking for.

______________________________________________________________

“Honey! I’m home!”

You snorted returning your attention to the TV, the control in your hand while the video game continued playing on the TV.

“How was the babysitter duty?”

America sat right beside you frowning at the screen, “it was nice, the twins…”

“Twins?! You babysat twins?” You asked looking at your sister with incredulity.

America rolled her eyes leaning in to steal some popcorn.

“I did, yes. It was nice, they are five so really the only thing I have to do was distracted them all afternoon.” America observed as you pursed your lips with incredulity before returning your attention to the game. “How about you? How was your night yesterday? How about this morning? I bet it was really good since you didn’t answer any of my messages.”

The sound of blasting guns filled the room while you mused over America’s question. For a while the young woman thought about pressing the matter but decided against it, she knew if she were to press you with the subject the only thing she would get from you would be denials and sarcasm. Once you saw the Game Over on the screen you left the control on the sofa turning around to face your sister.

“It was nice.” You stated rolling your eyes when America poked you on the side.

“Come on, you can do better than that.”

“She was being awarded because of her service and was given a promotion.” America opened her eyes wide, she could see the invitation had affected you and whatever else had happened the night before was still resounding inside your head.

“She presented me with her superiors and some co-workers, and then we went to her place and…” Here you gave her a half smile. “You can imagine what happened.”

“You don’t sound happy.” America rested her head on her arm, her eyes still focused on you. “you didn’t like it?”

“It’s more complicated it, America.” You put your phone out watching the messages from Tony and Pepper, the ones from Thor and Natasha, and then…the one from Carol. “I like her, you know? And I don’t want to hurt her, but I don’t think I’m ready for a relationship.”

America frowned in confusion, her lips moving from one side to the other.

“Could it be that you just don’t want to give her a chance?” America grabbed your phone rolling up and down to the messages you had left unread. “Or, are you looking for that one woman that would sweep you away and make you believe in love again?”

You couldn’t help it, you laughed out loud ruffling her hear while leaning aback against the sofa.

“Don’t be an idiot, love is not what you think it is.” You tried to tone down the bitterness in your tone. “I just…I’m not sure Carol is the one for me.”

“I don’t like her much, but…if it’s not her, then who?”

America kept her eyes on you, she saw the sudden flickered in your stare but as soon as it was there it disappear. For some reason, just as America asked this you thought of the redhead from the supermarket. Your neighbour.

Fuck you!

Well, you certainly would.

But you didn’t want just sex.

“What would you say to some pizza and horror movies all night long?” You finally asked trying to get away from those green eyes of your neighbour, and the conversation you held with Carol.

You needed to think about yourself and America, and not about women…or the women that could be in your life.

Not yet.

Not ever.

“That sounds perfect, I think I need a little horror in my life that doesn’t involve dinosaurs.”

You chuckled turning on the TV, “so, tell me, how was your babysitter duty?”

______________________________________________________________

Wanda tucked the twins in, both of them seemed to be completely exhausted and as soon as they were in bed they fall asleep without any issue.

The young woman served a glass of wine and went directly to her room.

The place was in complete darkness, with a soothing silence that was only interrupted by the thoughts dancing around in her head. For the very first time, Wanda was not required to answer to anyone, or made to just lay in bed and wait for someone to get the satisfaction they needed out of her body; for the very first time she could drink a glass of wine while watching silly television secure in the fact her children were resting peacefully on their beds and didn’t need to hide under the bed or in the wardrobe.

Wanda let her eyes danced around the room, until the fell on the television.

This time around there were no tears, but a sense of tranquillity she wished she could hold onto for the rest of her life. But Wanda was not fool.

She knew this was the first step in a long road, and the first battle in long war. The custody of her children would soon become part of this fight, as well as the petition of divorce she would need to get running soon. The restriction order would work just for a couple of months but not beyond that, and her recovery as well as the safety of her children were her primary concern.

Wanda grabbed her phone to speak with Natasha.

The other woman had been nothing but kind to her, and she was trying to make sure her first appointment with the therapist had gone well. Hesitating for a moment, unsure if she should give too much detail she started talking to the other woman about her day and the therapy.

For a brief moment, Wanda let her thumbs hover above the keypad on her phone. Her mind brought the memory of her neighbour, that woman that only made her blood boil with her behaviour.

You wish, Princess. Too bad for you, I don’t like fucking morons

Wanda huffed writing other things while thinking about the incident in the parking lot. She was not a moron, and that woman would be lucky if Wanda were to…if she…

“Ugh, I hate her.” Wanda mumbled while turning the volume on her TV, and focusing on the conversation with Natasha.

Anything to cut of your voice, your words, and your eyes alongside that mocking smile that made you look so damn cute.

CHILDISH! Not cute, childish. Only childish and immature and so unbearable!

That night, for some reason, Wanda went to sleep with your image in her head. She thought about the incident, about you and your words, and she fell asleep planning a way to answer you back and outwit you.

______________________________________________________________

Routine was one of the pillars of her recovery.

For the next couple of weeks, Wanda started working on her routine with dedication and discipline. She made sure the twins were always ready for school, dropped them off in the kindergarten before going to class and enjoying the witty minds of her students.

Soon everyone at school was talking about the soft-spoken English teacher and her teaching methods. More than one student was quite smitten by her, and Wanda felt happy for the very first time in her life by doing what she loved the most.

America had become her favourite babysitter, while her friends and the young woman herself became her favourite students. Little by little Wanda had started building the stability she so longed for, though the only thing that was not going her way were her appointments with the therapist.

The only downside in her life was her neighbour.

The woman had a way of getting on her nerves whenever the both of them found one another on the driveway or on the supermarket. She was infuriating, and it was the perfect gateway from her frustrations; so far, their encounters ended in heavy arguments that they would take turns to win over the other. And Wanda hated the fact the woman affected her in such a way, she hated that whenever their paths crossed you railed her up so easily that it was as if you could have control over her.

And Wanda hated the fact she could lose her control of the situation.

Between that situation, the twins, her worries about Vision and her work, Wanda had been overwhelmed by the whole situation in itself. And in the end, she did what she did best.

She hid herself, and tried to pretend everything was fine. Her mother had not raised a coward, or a useless woman. She could deal with everything…with everyone…she was supposed to do so, to endure even in the hardest times…even if she was being abused, and screamed at…

That’s what women are supposed to do, Wanda, endure. A husband is a master, and you must obey…

Hope had not been given access to such thoughts, or to such fears.

So far what the therapist thought would be an easy case, resulted in a difficult quite unpredictable one.

Wanda had closed off after that first session, and she had stopped sharing things about Vision or her childhood back in Sokovia. She had tried really hard, but the newfound happiness was too precious for her to let go in the past, so she had tried to hide away from everything by distracting her therapist with small details.

That wouldn’t do, though.

Just as Hope had told her that the more she postpone such a confrontation, the harder would be the hit. Natasha had reminded Wanda of the oncoming Hearing with the lawyers, and the petition of Divorce as well as the custody of her children.

Wanda was hopeful everything would turn out to be okay, she just needed it time.

More time of being happy, of being at peace.

Wanda returned her attention to the papers she had been grading when a knock at the door called her attention. Standing by the door was Natasha, the woman was smiling at her waving her hand while asking for permission to go in.

Wanda stood up nodding, “guys please, let’s greet Director Romanoff.”

The class stopped what they were doing, Natasha waved her hand away locking eyes with Yelena and America before she returned her attention to Wanda.

“Please, don’t need to worry, I just need to have a word with you and I will leave you to your class.”

“Show off.” Yelena mumbled oud enough for Natasha to hear, but low enough for her sister to ignore her.

Natasha rolled her eyes, opting for the last option while grabbing a chair and sitting right beside a curious Wanda.

“Is everything alright?” Wanda finally asked, Natasha nodded though her smile was the type she only wore whenever a business conversation would come into play.

“We have a meeting tonight.” Natasha lifted a hand at Wanda who was ready to protest. “before you said anything, they asked for you specifically.”

“They? Who? Why?” Wanda blinked away her confusion observing as Natasha softened her expression smiling sheepishly at her.

“The board and some of the parents and family of the students.” Natasha turned to the class that had returned to their activities, though she could see that Kate, America and Yelena were trying to see what was going on.

“Okay, is this…mandatory or…” Wanda’s heart dropped when Natasha turned to her with seriousness in her face.

“Yes, the students you are dealing with are not only brilliant but some of them are part of prestigious families that had come here for decades.” Natasha could see the uncertainty in those green eyes, and she understood why Wanda was doubting herself at the moment.

In the last couple of weeks Wanda had made great progress, but there were still some things she was not ready to face namely a social gathering. Natasha didn’t pretend for Wanda to be out there in bars or cafes trying to get a date or meet new people, but even at school she preferred the company of her students during the classes than socializing with the rest of the staff. On more than one occasion, Natasha had seen the young woman going to the nursery and the small building to visit her children instead of having lunch in the Professors lounge.

Natasha softened slightly placing a hand on the woman’s arm, her lips curled into a soft smile that didn’t do much to ease Wanda’s insecurities and fears.

“There won’t be any press, or pictures of you at this gathering, Wanda.” Natasha assured the woman, one of the things they needed to protect was Wanda’s identity and this was something Natasha took very seriously.

“I…I know that, Natasha…I just…” Wanda lowered her gaze, wincing when a loud noise almost made her jumped away. A gathering, of any kind, was forbidden to Wanda.

The last time Vision had taken to one of his company parties, one of the partners had come to her and talk to her smiling and joking around. Vision had not been happy, and that night she…he…

“Wanda.” Natasha offered tentatively to the young woman, Wanda shook her head offering a weak smile.

“Yes, ma’am, I…I will go.” She stuttered softly, Natasha frowned wishing she had chosen another moment to have this conversation but there was no time.

“Wanda, you don’t have to…” She started but trailed off when Wanda shook her head, busying herself with some paperwork without lifting her head or eyes.

“I’ll go. I’ll go. Please…”

Natasha hesitated for a moment before nodding curtly and standing up, “you told me America has been doing a good job taking care of the twins, so…you know they will be in good hands.”

And with that Natasha left.

Wanda could feel her heart hammering against her chest, her eyes wide open glancing at some point on her table while the sounds of muffled conversation filled her ears.

He won’t be there, he is not here…he can’t hurt me…he can’t…

“Uh, Professor Maximoff?” Wanda jerked away from the touch, her glassy stare tried to focus on the induvial trying to reach out to her only for her to realize where she was and who was calling to her.

America Chavez crunched up her nose, her eyes gleaming worriedly at the woman whole Kate and Yelena shifted just right behind her. Wanda swallowed down noticing for the very first time that half the class had already left and everyone was getting ready to leave. Her green eyes swept around the room then back to America who was glancing at her worriedly.

“Are you alright?” She asked once more, Wanda parted her lips and after a moment of hesitation she smiled nodding.

“Yes, yes, I am, Mrs. Chavez, thank you for asking.” Wanda made a strange gesture with her hand, her face breaking in what seemed a jovial expression while she fixed the paperwork on her desk.

Kamala elbowed Loki nodding towards the desk, he pursed his lips standing up and walking towards their friends with the same glint of concern in their eyes. Wanda was babbling about how she had distracted herself grading some papers, and then thinking of what she should wear that night. She was trying to give explanations that none of the teenagers had requested but none of them dare to say anything at all.

“…And then, of course, I have to think about the…the…” Here Wanda made circles with her index finger, blinking as she tried to remember what she wanted to say.

Kate pushed America opening her eyes and raising her brows, the young woman opened her eyes as well lifting her shoulders without knowing what to do. Yelena stood there for a moment before rolling her eyes and stepping forward.

“We can take care of the twins for you, Professor Maximoff.” She stated breaking the tension in the room and the rambling from the older woman. “Either way we have to take care of Balder, and we have this huge project we should started working on today. So if you don’t mind we can all stayed at America’s house and watch over them.”

Everyone went silent at such intervention.

Wanda stood frozen with her body completely tense realizing just how foolish she had been. Her students were glancing at her with a mixture of curiosity and concern, but none of them were about to ask the reason of the woman’s sudden change. For a brief moment, no one said anything and Wanda knew she would need to take over the conversation if only to reassure them that she didn’t have any kind of mental breakdown. To not let her students believe she was not capable of dealing with her work.

“I…Yeah, that sounds amazing, Yelena.” This time around Wanda turned her attention back to America tilting her head. “You wouldn’t mind watching over them tonight?”

America shook her head flushing lightly, Kate crossed her arms rolling her eyes at the sudden shyness from America while Kamala and Loki sniggered behind their backs.

“No, not at all, Professor, you know I love the kids and really today they will have more than one babysitter! Right guys?”

“Certainly, we will be more than happy to watch over your children, Professor. It is only right, since we know these kinds of meetings are a necessity for funding and continuity of our education.” Loki intervened standing right beside America while flashing a charming smile.

Wanda dropped her shoulders, and her lips curled slightly at the group of teens standing in front of her. It was a silent agreement between them, none of them would mention what just happened, and Wanda was just happy to continue with her life ignoring the apprehension and breakdown wanting to happen inside her mind.

“Thank you, for everything.” She finally mumbled; America was about to say something else but Kate wrapped her hand around hers flashing Wanda a huge, fake smile.

“Not a problem, Professor Maximoff. America already knows where you life so if you want we will be there at six.” Kate squeezed the hand in between hers lightly, Yelena huffed shaking her head and turning around ready to finally leave school.

“Yeah, right…I…we will be there later on?” America blinked away, and soon she was being dragged away by Kate.

Kamala smiled sheepishly at the older woman with Loki chuckling lightly and putting his mobile out.

“Right, sorry about that, they can be weird like that, Professor. Anyways, see you later!”

Wanda watched as the group of teens left the classroom and she was finally left alone. Her heart shrank with pure emotion, hurting while hitting against her ribcage. She held back a sob, and soon she turned around to hide away her tears. She needed to get herself together.

She really needed to get her emotions under check.

Perhaps, going out that night wouldn’t be so bad.

Perhaps, it was what she needed it.

______________________________________________________________

#Wanda/Female!Reader #fanfic #wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x reader #imagine wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x female reader #wandaxreader #reader #female reader #personal #MCU AU #wanda maximoff x f!reader

258 notes · View notes