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enkvyu · 9 months

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7:02pm — gojo satoru ; part two to this imagine

"gojo, your hair is in my mouth."

"you're lucky i washed it a few days ago."

you peer up at him over your phone. "a few days? how many? gojo, tell me."

gojo hums to himself and you hate that it might be serious consideration that he's under. "like maybe seven?"

you gag, flailing at your mouth and spitting out the few strands. you faintly hear gojo complain but it's overridden as you deal with your dilemma.

the two of you were curled inside the stomach of one of getou's curses as it flew across the ocean to arrive back at jujutsu high. the cramped space and gooey flesh makes you shiver, effectively increasing your poor mood, but perhaps the biggest detriment was the person you were stuck with.

sure, public transport was a viable option but yaga had specifically emphasised on the "top-secret" and "classified" written in big bold red letters on the mission file. this meant no one was to know, not ordinary people, not curses and not even other sorcerers.

granted, the school had access to one private jet which they were willing to offer, but that jet only had space for one.

the three of you had sat down and played a game of scissors paper rock to determine who takes it, and while you were lucky to win it for the trip forward, getou ends up victorious for the way back.

and now, you were stuck in close proximity with gojo inside the gut of a flying dragon.

"why are you in such a bad mood anyway?" gojo has the audacity to ask, as if he wasn't the sole reason why you were uncomfortable. you keep your mouth shut though, nothing good will come out of admitting your undying, and unfortunately unrequited, love for him.

"i'm in a perfectly fine mood."

"why do you look like that then, all constipated and everything? did you not go to the bathroom before we left?"

you curl your fingers into a fist and punch him in the chest. it hits his uniform, smearing some of the curses' stomach juice. "of course i did! i'm not a newbie sorcerer."

"ouch!"

"that didn't hurt you."

"how are you going to tell me how i feel?" gojo jabs back. "because it did hurt, it hurt my feelings."

"oh boohoo."

"so you are mad."

you bite your lip and turn away, finding the abdominal wall of the beast easier on the eyes than your own friend. "i'm not."

"you're sulking."

"i'm not." you hiss before taking in a deep breath. "look gojo, can we just stay quiet until we get there?"

gojo keeps staring at you through his glasses and his face fails to give his thoughts away. the suspense is killing you, but before you can relent and ask what he has to say, he clears his throat.

"i have something to tell you."

you sigh, rubbing at your head. "what is it?"

"wait, don't turn around and keeping looking at the wall. hey, what did i just say?"

"gojo, the view isn't really the best to sightsee. why can't i look at you?"

"because if you do, i don't think i can tell you after all."

you close your mouth. "is it that serious?"

"yeah." he clears his throat again, adjusting the collar of his uniform. "look, i know you've been weird around me the past few days and i don’t think it’s because i stretched out your uniform when i wore it last weekend. i don't know why you’re being mean to me, and shoko and getou won't tell me either."

you resist the urge to look at him. "you're having this kind of talk with me now? here? seriously?"

"you won't even stay in the same room as me for more than a few minutes! getou may call this curse his bad-luck curse but for me right now it's the only way to get you to listen to me." he stays quiet for a few seconds. "this is really serious, okay, so don't make any comments. i know you're practically brimming with them."

it was true you had a lot to say, but gojo's serious attitude was putting you off. still, having him call you out made you more aggravated and you let one slip. "well, this is really bad-luck for me."

gojo clicks his tongue and you can see the irritation on his face before his words are even coloured with it. "i'm not telling you this so you can feel the same way but—"

the curse suddenly tilts to the side, throwing you into gojo as the four walls of its stomach becomes a wheel, rotating you around. you yelp as your forehead hits him hard in the chest, tears springing to your eyes at the pain.

“what’s going on?”

the two of you spin round and round, and you can't distinguish your screams from gojo's as gravity plays you like a toy, throwing you around.

the movement makes you sick. "gojo, do something! blast it!"

"getou'll get mad if i kill another one of his curses!"

"are you kidding, we're going to die!"

gojo swears, grabbing you around the waist and pulling you into his chest. with his other arm, he holds out his hand and presses it on the flesh.

you tuck your chin in, squeezing your eyes shut when you realise he hadn't started chanting his technique. "what are you doing?" you look up at him and find him staring at the exit of the stomach through all the goo and chaos.

with a trembling finger, he points to it. you stare into the abyss, squinting your eyes to make out its indistinct shapes. what was that pulsing thing, attached to the side? and was it just you, but was it getting bigger?

with a start, you realise that the curse was about to throw up. and coincidentally, so were you.

"it's going to throw us up!" you share your realisation with gojo but the look on his face tells you he already arrived at the same thought.

he opens his mouth to say something, or scream you're not too sure as the walls of the stomach contracts. distantly, you feel gojo slide his other arm around you and his infinity takes over, shielding the two of you as you're forcefully ejected from the curse's mouth.

a scream escapes your throat as you escape the curse's, wind rushing through your ears. gojo swears again, bringing his arm up to protect your head.

you only know you're safe when you feel air again, the real kind, not the gas built up in the curse's stomach. a thud tells you gojo has landed on solid ground again and you've never felt more grateful to be alive, your entire body relaxing as your soul leaves.

gojo sighs with you, his hold slightly loosening.

getou watches as you're spat out, stepping out of the private jet with a big smile on his face. "you guys look rough."

you feel gojo tense his jaw rather than see it. "what was that for?"

getou shrugs, throwing a bag over his shoulder. he starts digging through it. "i told you that curse is some serious bad-luck. at least you both arrived in one piece.” he looks up and raises an eyebrow at you. “literally in one piece, are you guys going to stay like that forever?"

your mind slowly pieces together your position, still curled up in gojo's arms as he is sat on the pavement, before you leapt out. gojo makes no move to stop you, though you think he might have tsked.

"here, this is for you." getou finally pulls out what he was searching for from his bag and throws it at the two of you.

you catch it instinctively, studying the object in your hand. "a can of soda?"

"for surviving."

"that curse of yours is a safety hazard." you mutter, but accept the can. you crack open the lid and tilt your head back, taking a long, cool sip.

gojo stares down at the drink. "i told you i don't like this flavour!" he complains and you roll your eyes at his antics.

"then don't drink it."

"no. give me your one instead."

getou pauses, halfway to opening his own iced coffee. "huh? i got this for me. and you don't even like coffee! you should be glad i even got one for you in the first place."

"let's play a game of rock paper scissors to decide who gets it."

"no. i just told you i got this for me."

gojo stands up, taking a step forward menacingly. "huh? after what you put me through, you think i'm just going to take no for an answer?"

getou's eyes flicker to yours before he takes up gojo's challenge, activating his cursed technique. black liquid opens up the air beside him, a peering red eye on the other side. "can't handle rejection, gojo? because you better get used to it."

you take another sip as you watch the boys, absentmindedly wiping at a stain on your sleeve. you remember the feeling of gojo's arm around your body and you blush despite yourself.

"are you feeling sick?"

you look up to see that gojo had stopped fighting with getou, his entire attention on you.

"huh?"

"you're red in the face. you look like a tomato."

ignoring the last part, you hide your face behind your drink. "i'm fine."

getou looks between the two of you and there's a glint in his eyes that you've seen before, one that you've grown to dread.

he throws back the rest of his coffee, grimacing as it gives him a slight brain freeze, before crushing the can in his hand. gojo mutters a quick, "show off" that he ignores, instead chucking the can into a bin a few metres away.

"what a time." he starts saying, the words static. "that was great. well, now that i've finished my drink, i should head back inside."

“i should head in too. i smell real bad.” you sigh and give gojo a glare when he agrees.

“actually, can the two of you stay here? i think my curse isn’t feeling too well after eating you two. just until i come back, okay?”

you think there might be an ulterior motive but glancing over at the curse, you find that it did look greener than before.

"where are you going, and for how long?" you ask and hope the look in your eyes will make him stay.

"i need to tell yaga we finished the mission. you guys can just stay here, i've got it." then to you, he says, clenching his fist in support, "you got this."

you want to break his arm.

getou hurries away despite your silent plea, leaving you in an awkward silence with the one person you wanted to avoid most. you take multiple quick sips to busy yourself, but you can’t ignore the person standing by your side.

gojo shifts his balance to his other foot and the sound of his shoe against the pavement breaks the silence. "so."

"so."

"it's really bright, huh."

"you're wearing sunglasses."

"and do they completely cover my eyes? no they don't. i can still complain about the sun."

"just push your glasses up then."

"no." gojo huffs. "i look cooler this way."

"who told you that? because i know for a fact it wasn't anyone whose opinion actually matters." you jab back.

"your mum said that, actually."

"are you a child?"

"what, are you too cool for old jokes? they're iconic for a reason."

"and there's a reason why 'your mum jokes' died and should stay that way."

the natural way in which you banter with gojo gives you confidence. maybe it didn't matter that you liked him, or that he didn't like you back. it was enough that he was here with you now, joking around. perhaps you could even live with knowing that your unrequited love had come to an end, perhaps you could even pair them up yourself without a sense of bitter jealousy.

"i know you like getou." gojo says in one breath.

the peace you had come to, shatters.

"what?" you say in an inhale, and it comes out sounding weird.

gojo pouts, crossing his arms. "i'm right, aren't i? you like getou. i heard what you were saying to shoko that one time."

"don't eavesdrop on other people's conversations!"

"you were saying it pretty loudly, what was i meant to do? shut my ears?"

you wave away his whining. "stop, hold on. you think i like getou?"

gojo nods. "i don't think you do, i know. you said you like people like him."

"when did i ever say that? also, i'm not the one who likes getou, you are!"

"what?"

"what, what? you do, don't you? you told me yesterday that you liked getou."

"i never said that!"

"then who were you talking about?"

"who were you thinking about?" gojo shoots back. "because you didn't even hesitate when you explained your type to shoko. you were thinking of someone, weren't you?"

you gulp. "i asked first."

he looks at you long and hard and you stare back at your reflection through his glasses. his mouth opens and there's a mixed sense of dread and anticipation brewing in your stomach.

"tch."

"did you just click your tongue at me?"

gojo faces away. his jaw is tense as he blatantly ignores your question. "you're really annoying."

"huh? speak for yourself!"

"you have a problem with me?"

"i have a problem with your stupid attitude."

when gojo closes the distance between the two of you, you take a step back out of instinct. it doesn't matter though because gojo steps forward again, pushing you up against the curse getou had left behind. he slams a hand into the flesh of the curse and it makes a startled sound. the both of you ignore it. "it's you, idiot, i like—"

the force behind his slam is frightening, but the thought is torn from you when the sound of regurgitation grabs your attention. with a start, you turn around at the curse and find your phone on the ground at the entrance of the curse's mouth, covered in goo.

"my phone!" you exclaim, bending down to pick it up.

gojo backs up and groans loudly, but you don't care, wincing instead when the item is sticky.

"i didn't even know i lost this! thanks gojo, i think." your voice trails off wearily, holding up the phone and watching as viscous liquid slowly drips off it.

gojo rubs his face with his palm and you wonder why he looks so distressed. "that curse is seriously bad luck." meeting your eye, he points a finger at you. "listen to what i have to say!"

you raise your eyebrow at him. "damn okay, gojo's arrived." you mutter, wiping down the phone and pocketing it.

the clouds overhead parts, sunlight shining down in rays. the trees whistle in the summer breeze and light filters through the gaps in the leaves and branches. it hits gojo perfectly, adorning him in a golden light and you've never seen him so beautiful. guilt fills you at the thought and you hold your soda tighter.

he breathes in one more time. "i don't care that you like getou." he says. "because it doesn't matter to me. it just means i have to work harder to change your mind and get you to notice me instead."

"it's kind of hard to not notice you." you say. "i mean, look at what you're wearing."

gojo hisses. "don't ruin the mood, you're throwing me off. like i was saying, it's not your fault you like getou but i had to tell you this anyway, because it's been making my heart feel all prickly and stuff. so shut up and just stand there looking pretty, or whatever." his last few words trail off uncertainly, as if he never intended to say them at all.

"what are you even saying?" your heart picks up. was he about to confess?

"i'm saying that i think i like—"

"there you guys are!"

your head whips around at the voice, scanning the familiar landscape before settling on a single person. shoko stands metres away, waving a hand to grab your attention. "over here!"

"shoko!" a grin splits across your face. "i haven't seen you all day!"

"am i interrupting something?" she yells to get her voice across the distance.

you don't even look over at gojo as you shake your head. you had a feeling he was just going to tell you something you already knew, that he liked getou, anyway. “no! hold on, i'm coming over."

before you can run up to her, gojo grabs your arm, a deep frown etched on his face. "wait, you still haven't—!"

without another thought, you hand him your half-finished can of soda and wriggle out of his hold. "you can have the rest of that. i'll hear you out later, okay?"

"but the mood was so right!"

"look after the curse until getou’s back, later!"

gojo stands there in front of the bad-luck curse, one arm limp by his side and the other holding a can of blue soda. he watches as you fling yourself into shoko's arm, already listing all the things you've been saving up to tell her.

there's that prickly feeling again, gojo realises, noting the way the sun lightens the shade of your hair, the way your eyes curve up as you smile, and the way you hold onto shoko's hand, wishing that he had enough courage to hold yours.

defeated, battered and drained, gojo looks down at the can in his hand, and notes the slight lipstick stain on the rim.

with a red on his cheeks that didn't come from the sun, he presses the aluminium to his lips and takes a sip. it tastes sweet.

gojo decides that he'll just have to settle for this.

i hope this was okay considering i had no intentions of writing a part two. sorry for all the descriptions of stomachs and throw up, i was studying the digestive system 👎 if this isn’t what u guys expected feel free to leave a request !!

#gojo x reader #gojo x you #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru #jujutsu kaisen #jjk #gojo fluff #gojo imagine #gojo drabble #getou suguru #ieiri shoko #gojo satoru x you

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amjustagirl · 1 month

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title: to rebuild a home pairing: kuroo x f! reader genre: angst / fluff, post timeskip! wc: 6.8k m.list

a/n: companion piece to the original love knows not its depth, from kuroo's perspective.

Kuroo Tetsuro is doing alright.

He’s deftly juggling the roles life has handed him. His tenth wedding anniversary is coming up. He’s gotten a nice pair of earrings and a reservation at Tokyo’s hottest omakase for you to celebrate. The girls are doing nicely at school - Aiko’s grades are excellent, and Fumiko’s not gotten into any schoolyard fights unlike Bokuto’s trio of sons. His bosses seem happy with him too, paving the way for him to climb the corporate ladder rung by rung. He’s earned each promotion by burning days in the office, nights in the izakayas schmoozing with his bosses, but it’s worth it, even if it admittedly comes at the expense of being with you and the girls.

It’s a sacrifice he has to make so he can provide you with the fairytale life he’s always promised you. Not that you’ve ever complained about the trade-off.

“She’s the best wife and mom I could’ve asked for”, he tells Kenma, when the former setter asks about you. “I don’t know how she does it.”

Kenma frowns. “You make her sound like a video game character.”

“That’s cos she’s amazing -”

“Kinda sucks that she pretty much has to juggle a full time job and the kids on her own most of the time.”

“She manages perfectly well”, Kuroo enthuses, oblivious to the barb in his friend’s words. “By the time I get home, the girls are in bed, the house is clean, and there’s even a lunch box packed for me each day. She’s a rockstar at work too - should be up for a promotion next financial year.”

“Huh”, Kenma sniffs. “I wonder when she gets a break.”

Kuroo’s too distracted by the round of beers that’s delivered to his table to think deeply about his best friend’s apprehension. When he stumbles through the front door that night, he finds you crouched over the coffee table, frantically typing at your laptop. As expected, the girls are in bed, there’s nothing out of place.

“All good?” he asks you in passing, his mind already filing the tasks on his plate for tomorrow - organising a publicity event jointly held by the JVA and Bouncing Ball Corporation to introduce new national team members, reviewing the proposed budget for this year’s international competitions, popping by the under-19 team to see if there are indeed any promising candidates - he’s already one foot in the bedroom, ready to call it a night.

He doesn’t notice the violets blooming under your eyes.

“Mm.” You don’t look up. “Have a good night.”

Kruoo Tetsuro thinks he’s doing alright.

Bokuto Kotaro, for some reason, doesn’t think so. “Mitsuki said you’re lucky you’re not married to her cos she’ll skin you alive”, he informs him, as if Kuroo shares his love for women capable of chomping his head off in one bite.

Maybe the Bokutos operate on a different metric - because yes, they’re the model of egalitarianism with Mitsuki the high powered general counsel for Kenma’s Bouncing Ball Corporation (based on his referral, he likes to add, cos’ it’s funny to watch Mitsuki growl) and Kotaro the part time coach, full time stay at home dad to his wolfpack of sons, but that doesn’t mean his marriage is on the rocks.

As a child, he was the unwitting witness to his parents’ fights, which culminated in his mother walking out of the door, his father crying over a thick stack of divorce papers. His grandparents took him in, gave him stability and love and comfort but he swore to himself he’s never going to put his daughters through that.

Sure, it’s been a while since you’ve had a night to yourself. The last time he remembers you taking time away from the girls was to go out for dinner with him to celebrate his latest promotion - his conscience stings a little that he can’t remember the last time you’ve taken a break from everything you’ve been doing for him and the girls, but he’ll make it up to you once he has time. You always understand.

Still, just to be sure, he checks in on you again.

“You alright?”, he reaches for your hand, when he climbs into bed that night.

You’re lying in bed. He should find it odd that you’re still awake at this time of the night, staring up at the ceiling as if there’s something to be found there, but he falls asleep in the slow seconds, doesn't hear your response. When he wakes, you’ve already taken the girls to school. He gets himself ready for work, loops his tie around his neck, grabs his briefcase and the bento you’ve so lovingly packed for him, and hops on the train. He runs through his routine like clockwork, but there’s a niggling feeling that he’s missed something important, possibly something to do with you.

Did you say something to him last night?

It doesn’t matter. He makes a mental note to purchase a spa day for you - but that’s promptly forgotten when he’s greeted by a flood of emails and an invitation from his boss to go out for drinks that night.

Kuroo still thinks he’s doing alright.

“You’re lucky”, his boss toasts him. “Your wife doesn’t complain like mine when I go out drinking, even though I tell her I need to do it for work.”

“She’s an angel”, Kuroo replies, quietly bursting with pride. “Never complains.”

“Lucky man”, his boss says. “My wife is such a nag.”

He misses the last train home that night, drops you a text not to wait up and stumbles around Shibuya trying to find a cab. It must be a busy night because by the time he manages to flag down one, it’s three a.m. and his head is pounding from the excess of alcohol and lack of solid food and water. He fumbles with his keys, almost falls through his front door when the lock gives way. “Tadaima”, he says out of habit, too-loudly, before his stomach lurches and he has to make a mad dash for the kitchen sink.

“Tetsuro?”

He wants to respond, but he’s too busy emptying out the contents of his stomach. He shouldn’t have woken you up. He shouldn’t greet you with a mess for you to clean up. He shouldn’t lean so heavily on you that you stagger beneath his weight.

He shouldn’t do all of that yet he does so anyway. You tuck him, a grown man, into bed.

Tomorrow, he’ll apologise. Tomorrow, he’ll make it up to you.

Tomorrow comes. He wakes up.

You’re gone.

Kuroo Tetsuro is not alright.

He’s ashamed to admit that he doesn’t even notice you’ve taken off until it’s way past lunch when your mother drops him a text to ask if he’s picking up the girls or if he intends to leave them with her overnight.

“What d’you mean?” he texts her, confused.

His heart stops when your mother responds to say you dropped off the girls at her place without much of an explanation, an overnight bag slung over your shoulder. You don’t pick up your phones, his calls going straight to voicemail. For the first time in forever, he sheepishly asks his boss for urgent leave from work so he can rush home to figure out what’s going on.

You always take your laptop with you, but it’s sitting at home. He knows it’s an invasion of privacy, but he types in your password (his birthday), and your web browser reveals a booking for a ryokan in Hakone, where the both of you honeymooned almost a decade ago. It’s an hour away by train, far too much time for him to sit and stew in his thoughts. He wonders if you’ve become sick of your life with him, whether you’ve found someone new, and by the time he’s reached the ryokan and charmed the receptionist to let him into your room, he’s teetering on the edge of giving into his frustration, entertaining thoughts about yelling at you for being so goddamned irresponsible, cos how could you just walk out on him and the girls -

Until you walk in, thankfully alone.

It strikes him that it’s the most refreshed he’s seen you look in a very, very long time. Your cheeks are glowing, your eyes sparkle, and there’s a spring in your step that he hasn’t seen since you’ve had the girls.

Still, he can’t help but remain a little peeved. “I’ve been calling you all afternoon”, he informs you. “I was worried.”

He immediately regrets his words as he watches the light die in your eyes.

“Were you?”, you ask, as if you were addressing a stranger. “Really?”

“Of course”, he frowns, slowly getting up to approach you, concerned when you start to sway. “You’re my wife and the mother of our girls, of course I care.”

Laughter spills from your lips, an undercurrent of bitterness and contempt that’s threatening to drag you under before his very eyes. “If you really cared, you’d have noticed that your wife is broken”, you tell him between gasps, your shoulders caving in. “I tried fixing myself with a break, but you can’t even give me that.”

He’s starting to realise that things aren’t alright at all. You flinch when he takes a step towards you, an action which stabs him clean through his heart because he’s your husband, your Tetsuro, your person. Tea, then, a neutral offering that manages to calm you down enough to take a seat, even if you’re still shaking, falling to pieces while laughing, laughing -

“Tell me what’s wrong”, he begs. “Tell me what I can do to fix you.”

You take a sip of tea. It’s hot enough to burn you, but you don’t seem to notice.

“I can’t do this anymore, Tetsuro.”

“Don’t say that”, he snaps, his inner child recoiling because he can’t bear to have his girls go through what he went through, wondering if it was his fault, his very existence that caused his parents to split up. “The girls and I need you -”

You don’t seem to hear him.

“Princess”, he falls back on his pet name for you, rusty from lack of use. “Come back to me.”

You’re unmoved, your eyes unseeing, deaf to his pleas. Sip after sip, you gulp down scalding tea, each action jerky, mechanical. Frozen, in an impenetrable placidness that he can’t read. You’re sitting right in front of him but you’re not really there at all.

“Let’s talk when you’re back home”, he finally says. “Have a good break.”

The immature little boy that still lives in his psyche is still unconvinced that it’s a bad idea to drag you back home with him posthaste, but you asked for a break, and it’s the least he can give to you.

You allow him to roll out your futon for you, to swaddle you in layers of blankets as if that would keep you from falling apart any further. As he kisses your forehead to bid you goodnight and goodbye, he feels the brittleness of your bones, the thinness of your skin beneath his palms and he spends the hour-long train ride home wondering how he managed to look away long enough for you to turn into a shadow of your past self.

He goes straight to your mother’s house to retrieve the girls. As penance, he stands at the front door, head bowed, letting your mother yell at him in front of the neighbours for being a useless husband and an irresponsible father. After all, he deserves every word she flings in his face. He’s just thankful that she doesn’t ream him out in front of the girls.

“Where’s mama?” Fumiko mumbles half asleep into his neck. “Want mama.”

He cradles her closer. “She’ll be home tomorrow”, he tells her, hoping with every fibre of his being that that does not turn out to be a lie. Aiko, older and wiser, just stays quiet, so he forces a smile on his face for her sake.

Kuroo Tetsuro is far from okay.

The strain of the day wears on him and he’s sure there are burning emails in his inbox for him to firefight, but there’s a long list of chores to be done in your absence. The girls’ school bags need to be packed (in the case of five year old Fumiko) or checked (for ten year old Aiko), their uniforms to be laid out, the laundry sorted and folded. He barely gets any sleep before he has to hop out of bed to throw together a cold breakfast of milk and cereal that makes Fumiko burst into tears and Aiko’s face droops. By the time he shuffles his two cranky children out of the house and into their respective schools, he’s late for work.

He meets Bokuto and Kenma for lunch since there’s no lunch bento waiting for him in the fridge, though he regrets the decision to leave the refuge of his work desk for the boardroom of Bouncing Ball Corporation when Mitsuki joins them and, sharp-eyed as ever, sinks her talons into him.

“You look like shit”, she says to him as a greeting.

“Thanks”, he grounds out. The girls demanded he work their hair into the neat braids they insisted you always do, so bedhead would have to do for him today.

“I’ve never seen you without hair gel before”, Bokuto marvels. “You look weird.”

“I had a crap morning, okay”, he snaps, biting the head off the karaage fish in his store bought bento, which he resents for tasting worse than those you usually make for him. “So I’m sorry if I look slightly less than presentable -”

“You look like a man whose wife just left him - “

Mitsuki’s just stepped right on the wound he’s tried to keep hidden, festering and bleeding beneath his skin, so like an animal lashing out when it’s hurt, Kuroo slaps the table with both palms and snarls.

“Don’t - don’t fucking say that, okay? She’s just taking a break. She’ll come home.”

He can’t stand to see the shock and pity on his closest friends’ faces. “She’s coming home today”, he repeats softly, almost to himself, as if he’s little Fumiko in need of reassurance that the person she needs most in the world hasn’t just abandoned her. “It’s gonna be okay.”

Perhaps it’s the maturity that comes with fatherhood, because Bokuto is the first to react. “That’s right, you’re gonna be okay”, he soothes, pulling Kuroo into his seat. “Kenma’s gonna call your boss and tell him that you’re gonna spend the rest of the afternoon here to plan some event - “

“Sponsorship for the Under-19 team, done”, Kenma snaps his phone shut.

“Guys, I’m fine - ”

“Pretending everything’s okay isn’t going to help.”

Kuroo deflates. “Thanks, Kenma.”

Shelving his worthless pride to lay bare the situation he’s found himself in, that by neglecting his duties as a husband and father, he’s forced you to the brink of a mental breakdown, bad enough that you’ve left him - temporarily, he hopes. In the span of a few hours, he’s already found himself at his wit’s end, struggling to handle both the demands of the kids and his job, something that he realises he’s left you to bear, alone.

“But I can’t figure out why she didn’t just tell me she was feeling overwhelmed”, he says, pulling at a fraying thread in his shirt. “I would’ve listened. I would’ve done better.”

“She shouldn’t have to tell you to do your part”, Mitsuki waves away Bokuto’s desperate gesture for her not to kick a man when he’s already down.

“But I didn’t know -”

“Y’know, I really can’t stand men like you. You guys are amazing at work, able to anticipate your bosses’ and clients’ needs. At this point, you don’t even need to be told by your bosses to jump, you don’t even ask your clients ‘how high’ - yet, for some reason, you manage to turn off your brain the minute you walk in through the front door at home.”

“Maybe I should ask her for a list of things I can help her with -”

Bokuto claps his hand over Mitsuki’s mouth. “Ehhh..you might not wanna finish your sentence or Mitsuki might really bite your head off.”

Kuroo winces, snapping his mouth shut.

“Maybe you can think of it in a different way”, Bokuto says. “Instead of ‘helping’ her - cos that’s just placing the mental burden on her - at least, I think that’s the term Mitsuki-chan used when she explained it to me -” the affronted lawyer nods begrudgingly, and beaming, he continues - “you gotta do your half of the work!”

“Level up”, Kenma provides, rather unhelpfully.

“Open your eyes and use your brain”, Mitsuki says bluntly, rolling her eyes, though her tone is less sharp.

“Where do I start?” Kuroo asks.

Step one.

He picks the girls up from his mother in law’s place, bears with the lecture that’s awaiting him, and sheepishly asks them what their mama usually feeds them for dinner and breakfast, making a mental note of it. Tonight, he’ll cheat by feeding them gyudon at Sukiya, but he drops by the supermarket to procure the ingredients he needs for tomorrow’s breakfast and a bouquet of pink roses, even though he knows it’s probably too little, too late. He counts himself lucky that Fumiko loves bathtime, only needing supervision to wash and dry her hair, and Aiko’s responsible enough to work through her homework without prompting, but he’s still exhausted by the time they both head to bed.

His job doesn’t end there. Running through the checklist Mitsuki begrudgingly allowed Bokuto to give him, he surveys the apartment, comparing it against the mental image of how everything was before you left it. Toys scattered, to be put back in place. Dust on floor, to be vacuumed up. A heap of laundry in the basket, to be hung, dried, ironed.

Just as he finishes all these tasks, the front door swing opens.

“Tadaima”, you call out, voice hushed.

He nearly trips over his feet in his haste to relieve you of your luggage, usher you into a seat by the kitchen counter. “Okaerie”, he breathes,

“The girls?” you ask.

He’ll buy Bokuto lunch next time. “I picked them up from your mom”, he responds. “Don’t wake them up, I just put them to bed.”

You peek into their rooms nonetheless. “Thanks”, you say, heading next to the fridge. “By the way, I’ll pay you back for the hotel room from my own money, don’t worry.”

That’s the last thing on his mind. Besides, his sin is being a neglectful husband, not a miser. “It’s fine, I’ll cover it”, he scratches his head, embarrassed that you’re even bringing it up. “I should’ve realised you needed a break.”

That makes you frown, but you accept anyway. He watches you stack bread, eggs, ham, cheese, and it strikes him that you’re already worrying about the girls’ breakfast when you look as if you haven’t even had your own dinner.

“You haven’t had dinner?” he asks.

You reply carelessly that you’ve had a bento on the train back. You don’t even bother to look at him.

“I’ll take the girls in the mornings from now”, he tells you. “Sleep in and take a break.”

That gets your attention.

“Really?”

He plasters a confident smirk on his face to reassure you that he’s got it all in hand.

“Oh”, you’re adorable when you’re confused, but he hates that he’s given you reason to doubt him. “Wake me up if you need my help?”

“I won’t”, he promises.

It’s time for him to level up.

Step two.

He’s not going to lie to himself that he finds it difficult to do even half of what you used to do. Taking over the responsibility of wrangling the girls out of bed and into school, coming home early enough for dinner with you, that requires him to have hard conversations with his boss about not being able to go out for drinks or come in early anymore which probably hurts his chances for his next promotion, forces him to give up an hour or two of sleep, but it’s worth it if it allows you to heal.

“Don’t expect a gold star for your efforts”, Mitsuki warned him. “It’s just what you should’ve been doing before, so it’s time for you to go above and beyond.”

He takes her words to heart. You deserve to go to work well-rested, to wind down at night with a hot bath. He’ll buy a robot vacuum and pour over its manual that’s thicker than a textbook, do laundry loads while hopping on and off conference calls, wrestle the iron to press down his own shirts.

You seem baffled by the sudden shift in the winds, but he just pretends everything is normal. Business as usual. Things are just as they should’ve been.

In his next push to right his wrongs, he organises a Saturday dinner date with you. The girls are packed off with your mother, he makes the reservation, books the cab, compliments your dress. He asks you about your work (tiring), your boss (a micro-manager), the books you’ve read recently (nada, zilch). In the uphill battle to keep the conversation from being stilted, he makes a fatal mistake.

“We can make it work if you want to quit your job and stay home full time with the children.”

In his mind, that was a reasonable suggestion to make since you seem to hate your job and boss with a fiery passion. But you stare at him wide-eyed, your initial confusion hardening into anger.

“Did the guys at work tell you it’s easier to have a housewife instead of a working wife? Are you saying this because you don’t think I’m a good enough mother to our girls?”

You don’t give him a chance to backpedal, shooting a sarcastic apology for being selfish enough to refuse to be reliant on him, so he just slumps back in his chair in defeat.

“I just want you to be happy”, he murmurs. “Forget I ever said that.”

Step three.

To figure out step three, he schedules an emergency lunch meeting on Monday. The troops convene in Kenma’s boardroom to listen to his sorry tale with Mitsuki in charge of the post–battle analysis.

“And remind me again, where did you two meet?”

His face lights up at the memory of his first meeting with you. “Finance 102”, he replies. “We used to be academic rivals turned teammates after I convinced her I was smart enough for her to work with on projects.”

“What made you fall in love with her?”

“As much as I hate it, I have to admit she’s probably smarter than me”, he says, though the fond smile that creeps onto his face betrays the fact that he loves that about you. “She’s just - her, she’s headstrong and funny. Did I tell you how she tried to stab me with her fork when I stole food off her plate -”

“Only a million times”, Kenma interjects.

“She’s always been independent and ambitious, with big dreams and an even bigger heart.”

“Well”, Mitsuki says, adopting the mildest tone she’s used on him this month. “Does that sound like a woman who’d choose to stay home and depend on her husband? Not that there’s anything wrong with being a stay-at-home parent - Koutaro makes my career possible, and I’m the luckiest woman in the world to have him as my husband.”

“Babyyyyy.” Bokuto bawls, looking at MItsuki as if she hangs the moon in the sky.

Gross. Kenma seems to agree. “Let’s get back to Kuroo’s failing marriage”,

“So I shouldn’t bring up the suggestion that she quit her job again?”

His three person council shake their heads in unison. “Just keep what you’re doing”, Bokuto pipes up. “Sounds like you’re already doing the right things! Just gotta keep making sure she’s not holding up the sky herself.”

He can do that.

“And maybe talk to her?”, Kenma offers.

That’s the suggestion that he wants to dismiss right off the bat because he’s too much of a coward to even face the possibility that you might leave him. He doesn’t want to become his dad so he resolves to keep his head down and continue pushing ahead with his efforts to prove to you that he can be the husband you deserve, so you won’t wake up one day and decide to walk out on him again.

But his subconscious fears force his nightmares into overdrive. Dreams of packed bags and stacks of divorce papers makes him yelp loud enough for you to roll over and shake him awake. He’s a terrible husband for disturbing your sleep, but in his sleep-dazed state of confusion he just sinks back into the pillow, exhaling a sigh of relief.

“Thank the gods you haven’t left.”

“Why would I leave?”, you mumble, turning away again. “It’s my home, isn’t it.”

He sits up, rubs the nightmares away from his eyes. “I was afraid you left me.”

The silence nearly suffocates him. The sudden need to know exactly where you stand eats away at him and he crawls towards you. “Are you going to leave me”, he asks, praying to all the gods in the universe that you’ll reassure him otherwise.

His heart breaks anew when he hears a small sob, buried in the bedclothes. “I don’t know, Tetsuro”, you finally say. “I’m tired of being alone in a marriage when it’s supposed to be us working together.”

“I’m sorry.” There’s nothing much he can say.

A broken whisper. “I’m tired”, you exhale. “I think I deserve better.”

“I’ll make it better”, he promises.

He will. He will.

Kuroo Tetsuro is trying his best.

He takes a cooking class on the weekends to learn how to prepare bento boxes that are nutritious and easy on the wallet. He takes over the ferrying of Fumiko to her swimming lessons, work on Aiko’s art projects with her. He hires a part time cleaner to pick up the deep cleaning, so you and he have time to take the girls out on weekend outings instead of spending all day on a week’s worth of cumulated chores. A dishwasher appears in the house. He makes it a game for he and the girls to load and unload dishware each night.

“There’s a networking wine night for finance next Wednesday”, he tells you casually. “I’ll make sure to be home so you can go, if you want.”

You goggle at him.

“Go schmooze so the world knows you’re as amazing as I know you are.”

You trust him enough to leave the girls behind in his care and go. He counts that as a win.

Some nights he still can’t get home in time for dinner, but he always makes sure he’s home in time for a bedtime story and a goodnight kiss. Aiko avers that at the grand old age of ten, she doesn’t need her papa to tuck her to bed anymore, but she sidles into Fumiko’s room everynight and sits in the corner of her little sister’s bed as the littler girl listens to his tall tales.

“I met a princess when I was eighteen”, he says with a grin when he notices you listening in. “Instead of a crown, she armed herself with a fork, ready to cut down anyone who’d cross her.”

His heart skips a beat when he hears your voice from the doorway. “Don’t be dramatic”, you interrupt, a small smile growing on your face. “You were trying to steal my food and didn’t stop ‘til I stabbed you.”

Fumiko huffs, unhappy that her story’s being interrupted, but he can’t seem to tear his gaze away from you. “You left it on the table, princess. I consider that fair game.”

“Let ‘to-san tell the story, ka’san.” Aiko grumbles.

He savours your laughter. It tastes better than the finest wine.

“I can’t believe I have to fly all the way to Italy just to meet Kageyama-kun”, he huffs. “At least Hinata is meeting us there, I’ll revolt if I had to go up to Brazil as well.”

“You know it can’t be helped”, you reply. “The promotional activities planned need your presence, and it’s only for a week.”

“Will you be okay when I’m gone?”

His fears melt away when you hand him his suitcase, a flask of his favourite tea. “I’ve always managed fine. Nothing’s changed.”

His little monsters, realising that he’s about to leave, decide to launch a synchronised attack on him. Aiko throws herself at him in a bear hug. Fumiko yanks at his sleeve demanding a thousand kisses.

“Yes, well. I’ll be home soon. Please wait for me” he says to you when the girls finally release him. The expression on your face is unreadable, but you don’t pull away when he takes the liberty of taking your hand in his.

He feels your heartbeat accelerates. You glance up at him, almost shy. “I’ll see you soon.”

He’s so tempted to call his boss and pretend that he’s too ill to get on that damned flight, but he’s pretty sure that would get him fired. Instead, he calls you and the girls every day, and brings home a luggage full of presents for all of you.

When he’s home, he celebrates by putting on the frilliest pink apron he’s ever seen (courtesy of Yaku, who sent it to him all the way from Moscow as a joke) and throwing an elaborate takoyaki party, replete with customised toppings - octopus, cheese and shrimp, which the girls enjoyed even if he burnt the first batch and had to call Fukunaga frantically for tips to rescue the rest. It turns out to be such a success that he makes it a weekly event. Okonomiyaki is next, which he flips with expert confidence on a hot plate to the applause of you and the girls.

“Itadakimasu”, you clap your hands together. “It tastes good.”

He nearly melts into his pan. “Thank you”, he replies. “It means a lot, coming from you.”

His nights are still plagued by nightmares.

Things are better with you, he likes to think. The violets beneath your eyes are replaced by roses in your cheeks. He hears you humming about the house again. You pick up reading again, the shelves in the house start to groan under the weight of books belonging to the girls and you. You’re as eager as the girls to go on the next adventure, whether it be a summer night out in the park with sparklers, or a nerf gun battle at home on rainy days.

Still, he doesn’t know for sure what he’s doing is enough for you and he’s too much of a coward to check. So he’ll wake up almost every night, fumble in the dark just to make sure you’re there.

You’re there, until you aren’t.

It’s three in the morning. The space beside him is cold and empty.

He throws off the blankets, trips on his bed slippers. He crashes through into the living room and oh, there you are - sitting at the dining table, typing furiously at your laptop while mouthing off to yourself about the ridiculous demands your client makes.

“What’s wrong?” you frown.

He walks towards you, trying to discern that you’re real, you’re there, not some trick of the light..

“You’re - you’re still here.”

You nod slowly, eyeing him strangely. “My boss called and asked me to send out an urgent email. I was just about to go back to bed.”

He exhales, tries to force his trembling heart back into his chest. He thinks he’s doing a good job trying to act nonchalant, smoothing back his frazzled mane of hair, but you see right through him as you always do.

“Tetsuro”, you say slowly. “Is everything alright?

The truth tumbles out of his mouth. “I thought you were gone.”

Then he hangs his head, looks at his feet, afraid that he’ll only see rejection in your eyes. He’s a pathetic failure of a husband who has a decade’s worth of sins to make up for, and there’s no justification for him to selfishly to seek your absolution.

It comes anyway, in the form of soft hands pulling him forward.

“I’m here”, you say, pulling him into your embrace, letting him rest his heavy head in your lap.

He doesn’t allow himself to sink into your warmth. “Are you happier now? Are things better for you?”

“Yes”, he hears you say. The tension he’s been carrying around these few months lifts. “Thank you, Tetsuro. I appreciate it. I really do. You don’t have to work yourself to death - that’s never what I was asking for. If you’re tired -”

He shakes his head at your suggestion. He’s got a long way yet before he earns any reprieve.

“Tetsuro -”

He sits up abruptly, takes your hands in his.

“Promise you won’t leave me”, he pleads. “I know you’ve had to carry what must’ve felt like the weight of the entire world on your own, and I don’t have any excuse for that.”

“You don’t”, you agree.

He accepts the blow but he takes comfort that you don’t pull away. “I know that now. I know now how fucking hard it was to do it all alone.”

“It was hard. It was so, so hard, Tetsuro. I became numb to the pain. I don’t think I was functioning, I haven’t been for a while. For a long, long while.”

“I’m sorry”, his voice cracks.

“I know.” You cup his face in your hands, offers him comfort he doesn’t deserve. “That’s a chapter of our marriage that’s past, that can’t be unwritten. But the past few months have been different. You’ve shown me that you’ve changed.”

The first glimmer of sunlight after a long, dark winter. Hope blooms with your smile.

“I think”, you say. “I think we can make this work again.”

He stares at you, dumbstruck. Then the fact that you’re giving him another chance dawns upon him, and he crashes forward to rest his head on your shoulder, unashamed to cry tears of relief.

“Thank you”, he exhales brokenly. “I won’t fuck this up again, I promise.”

You press a kiss to his forehead, curl up trustingly in his arms. “Don’t thank me”, you laugh. “Thank yourself for making me believe in you.”

He drinks up each drop of your affection, falls asleep in the cradle of your arms.

“Is this what flirting is like?”

He wakes up to Aiko’s impertinent question, her hands on hips looking distinctly unimpressed at finding her parents asleep on the sofa, entwined together.

“Who taught you that word?” Kuroo asks, aghast that his ten year old daughter even recognises the existence of the opposite gender.

Aiko sticks her tongue at him, and he’s too distracted by Fumiko taking a flying leap onto the sofa with them, chattering a thousand miles an hour about what’s for breakfast and whether they can go to the zoo this afternoon - though he pins his suspicions on Bokuto’s trio of sons.

“Monsters”, he says. “Can’t even give your to-san a break to snuggle up to your pretty ka’san.”

The girls shriek in dismay - Aiko, at being a witness to further gross displays of affection between her parents, Fumiko, at being called a monster despite being a self-proclaimed princess. You prod at the soft flesh between his ribs.

“Don’t be mean”, you admonish him.

He sniffs, taking the chance to draw you closer. “I’m cranky in the mornings unless I get a morning kiss.”

You snort, swatting at him. “You make it sound as if kisses contain caffeine.”

The girls giggle, but he protests.

“Full of nonsense”, you tease, but you kiss him, again and again and again.

Things settle into a steady, sustainable pace.

You refuse to allow him to bear the weight of the household on his back alone. There are frank conversations to be had about what each of you can realistically handle without burning out. He leads the charge in the mornings, whipping up breakfast with the aid of his two sous chefs, building an expertise in braiding and french twists that could possibly allow him to moonlight as a hairstylist. You, on the other hand, take charge of evening pick-ups, cooking dinners, supervising homework and art projects until he comes home and tags you out.

Chores are evenly split. He doesn’t allow you to assume the mental load of organising the household by yourself. “We both have a degree in business management”, he likes to remind you, because he now knows that remembering to run errands, scheduling appointments - all of this is work too.

You force him to take breaks. If you get to relax with your friends, so should he. “If you get too stressed, you’ll lose your hair and we can’t have that.” He yelps when he imagines himself bald and obediently complies when you call Kenma up, talk him into getting him and Bokuto and Akaashi (when he’s feeling less morose about his singlehood) to go for a round of pick up volleyball. “I’m glad you enjoyed yourself”, you note wryly when he returns home crowing about how he stuffed an Olympic player with a kill block.

“I did”, he replies, catching your hips to pull you in, cheekily ignoring your complaints that he’s sweaty. “But I enjoy coming home to you even more.”

“Gross”, you grumble, but you seem content to remain in his arms.

It’s another small moment he treasures. Life, he learns, is made of moments, both big and small. He’d made the mistake of only focusing on the big ones - graduation, playing at nationals, the day he was lucky enough to marry you, each of his daughter’s birthdays. Now, though, he cherishes each moment, each second he has with you and the girls, no matter how little, no matter how small.

He likes to come into the bathroom each night, leaning his elbow on the edge of the bathtub as you chat to him about your day, luxuriating in the bath he drew for you. You and he take turns to complain about life’s inconveniences as you clear emails once the girls have gone off to bed- colleagues who shirk their work, bosses who nitpick overmuch, washing everything down with steaming cups of herbal tea.

“Are you happy?”, he asks you, night after night.

“Mm”, you say with an impish grin. “I’d be happier if you let me put my toes on your calves.”

“They’re freezing”, he groans but scoots over anyway. “Better?”

“Much better”, you hum, content. “Life is good.”

He’s not remiss in planning the big moments too.

A year passes quickly to your wedding anniversary. He packs your suitcase, books the train tickets and whisks you back to the ryokan in Hakone, though this time he upgrades you both to their largest suite. “I feel like a princess!” you exclaim, twirling about the room.

Your happiness is worth every yen he spent.

You spend the day strolling down avenues lined with cherry blossoms, Mount Fuji looming in the backdrop, the evening exchanging heated kisses in the private onsen he booked. You’re older now, with laughter lines creased into your forehead, grey streaks in your hair, but you’re still the same girl he fell in love with all those years ago.

“And you couldn’t wait ‘til we got back to our room?” you smack him.

He also loves how there’s fire burning bright in your eyes, the way it always used to. “You kissed me first!”

“You kissed me second!”

“I don’t hear you complaining”, he cackles.

You try to shush him, to no avail, as he draws the attention of everyone around him.

“What a happy couple”, an obaa-san remarks out loud. “They must be newlyweds.”

Well, she’s not wrong. You’re as radiant as you were fifteen years ago, his spring bride, but he’s an old man doddering on, hopefully with his edges sanded off with time. “Just your regular old, married couple”, he chortles when you’re safely back in the room.

“A happily married couple”, you reply, serenely sipping your tea. “That obaa-san definitely got that part right.”

There’s a lump in his throat that he can’t swallow. “Are you happy?” he manages to ask anyway.

“With you?” Your smile is warm, bright. Always.”

Both of you are doing alright.

a/n: it's been a while, hasn't it. i've been alright - how are you guys doing?

#kuroo x you #kuroo x reader #kuroo testuro #haikyuu angst #haikyuu fluff

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lilithgreye · 20 days

Text

Post Warning

Minors don’t read this post. Also remember that you should take this with a grain of salt because the whole chart matters. These are isolated placements

Why the 5th house represents losing your virginity

Due to derivative astrology the 5th house can tell us about our virginity being lost! This is because the 6th house represents innocence while the 12th house represents losses (using the 12th as the ascendant it would be 12,1,2,3,4,5)

You can also check your 5th house ruler for more insight on this though!

What this post refers to

This post represents losing your virginity as in having sex for the first time. This does not include losing it to cucumbers, hair brushes, toothbrushes, or any other foreign items you shove in your gushy.

Aries 5h

It may hurt and you may bleed a lot when losing it since Mars represents pain and blood. One person I met with this placement had what’s called an imperforate hymen and had to get it surgically removed. Although there may be physical pain though it will still be very passionate sex. The person you lose it to will have deep sexual desire for you. There will be a lot of flirtatious energy and sexual tension leading up to you losing it. You will be very turned on.

Taurus 5h

It will be a very sensual and calm experience for you. You will probably lose it to someone that you’re dating at the time since Taurus is ruled by Venus, the planet of romance. You could lose it somewhere very fancy and high class as well. Example: Your date could take you to a fancy hotel to lose it. This can also mean that the process is very slow since Venus is associated with sloth.

Gemini 5h

There will be healthy communication between you and the person you lose it to. You could meet the person you lose it to at school or through social media. The person you lose it to may use things they learned through p*rn so make sure to tell them that’s not realistic and tell them what you really like! I also recommend not making any s*x tapes with this placement as it can indicate getting leaked more easily than the average person.

Cancer 5h

You’re going to lose it in your house or your sexual partners house. This is a good placement to have because it can mean you will feel very comfortable and the person you lose it to will be very considerate of your feelings during s*x. However, the downside to this placement is that you could possibly get pregnant after losing it so use protection and be very careful. Something random I will add is if you don’t lose it at a house you could possibly lose it near bodies of water. Example: My friend has this placement and lost his virginity at the beach.

Leo 5h

You’re going to lose it to someone that makes you feel very confident in bed. The person you’re losing it to will be very generous toward you s*xually and praise you in bed. You weirdly could lose it in a more public place with Leo in the 5th house. With this placement you will likely leave the experience feeling very happy with how it went.

Virgo 5h

Since this sign is associated with “innocence” the person you lose it to could also be a virgin like you. The person you lose it to will make sure that you’re pleased before they are. You could possibly feel scared to because you want to be really good at it due to your perfectionism in the bedroom but remember that we all start somewhere and you will improve over time.

Libra 5h

You will lose it to someone you’re in a long term relationship with at the time/someone you’re dating since Libra is ruled by Venus, the planet of romance. There will be a very flirtatious vibe between you two leading up to it and you will feel a huge romantic spark. Venus is the planet of harmony which can mean losing your virginity is actually a harmonious experience for you and goes well.

Scorpio 5h

You will lose it to someone you’re very sexually attracted to. If you’re a girl and have this placement consider yourself lucky because with Scorpio being ruled by Pluto (the planet associated with org*sms) you will likely finish your first time. Most girls don’t because they have to get the hang of things and become more comfortable in order to. The s*x between you two will be very passionate and rough. At worst with Scorpio being primarily ruled by Mars it could indicate it being a painful experience.

Sagittarius 5h

You could lose your virginity while traveling. You will lose it to someone that’s pretty experienced most likely. After losing it you may find yourself wanting to explore s*x with a lot more people. Since Sagittarius is ruled by Jupiter the planet of ease this could be an experience that comes at ease for you. You could possibly lose it someone you met at college/university.

Capricorn 5h

You will lose your virginity at an older age (depending on your other s*x placements). Most of the people i’ve met with this placement lose it after 20 (the average age is 17 years old). Before losing it you could have lots of fear leading up to it due to anxiety. The person you lose it to will likely be older and have more experience than you though making you more comfortable.

Aquarius 5h

You could lose your virginity to someone you’re friends with (possibly a friends with benefits situation). This could be someone you met online since Aquarius is ruled by Uranus, the planet of technology. This could be something that is spontaneous and unexpected that you randomly decide to do. Since Uranus also represents uniqueness you could lose it in an unique location or have a very unique experience when losing it.

Pisces 5h

Majority of people that i’ve met with this placement lose it in their bed since Pisces is ruled by Neptune the planet associated with sleep. The person you lose it to will be very kind and compassionate toward your sexual needs and have strong sexual fascination with you. With this placement you could lose it to your soulmate.

Don’t copy my work @lilithgreye

#v card #virginity #losing your v card #astrology #astrology blog #astrology chart #birth chart #astrology community #astro community #5th house #derivative astrology

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hazbinhotelxreader · 21 days

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Lucifer x GN adopted child reader

A/n: still have writers block. Trying to move and do school! Sorry it’s taking long! But I’m also going through some stress and emotions too and couldn’t write- but to heal me, I have made some Lucifer parent headcannons because he is the father I never had😔😔

-Platonic

-He adopted you out of depression, and being lonely. Not seeing his daughter for so long, and his wife(wives) really broke his heart. And since he can’t have children due to his lack of woman, he decided to adopt! Where you come in!

-When he saw your adorable little face in one of the foster home rooms, he knew you were perfect. You were young, not old enough to know who he was since Lucifer/Satan wasn’t out in public all the time, or at all. So while the other kids that were older cowered in fear, you were curious and un afraid, something that Lucifer loved about you.

-He can cook. Good. Expect him to make you home cooked meals all the time, so homemade dinosaur nuggets, aren’t you lucky? He’ll also help you learn how to cook, family bonding time! He has so many pictures of you two cooking together. He doesn’t mind the mess, he’s literally Satan, just a snap of his fingers and everything is clean!

-He definitely gives you rubber ducks as gifts almost everyday. He’ll make you personal ducks for you, a character, friend, yourself, anything! Of course, he’d never test any of the rubber ducks with abilities on you. He’ll give you those once he’s 100% sure they’re safe. Expect him to get or make you duck costumes or clothes. He’ll order some matching duck pajamas for the two of you to wear on movie nights, both of you watched DreamWorks “migration” so many times, but it’s your favorite movie, you both watch it together at least once a week.

-he’s not big on punishments. The farthest he’ll go is put you in time out. He has a stool for you in the corner of his office(with duck prints of course) and makes you sit there until you learned your lesson. He’s never hit you, or punish you physically, nor would he hurt you mentally, he loves you to much to do that.

-He would help you accomplish your dreams. He wasn’t able to accomplish his, but he can help you. He wants you to be free, to be as curious as you want, to let you learn. He wants you to be happy. He’ll give you everything he didn’t get. and, he’ll make sure you are on the right path to your life, and that you have everything you need to accomplish your goals and dreams. He’ll do make sure every obstacle is solved for you, but will also let you try to get through it on your own.

-He will never let heaven know you exist. He doesn’t want you to be targeted but them, especially exorcists. If your a sinner child, he’ll protect you with his life in his castles he’ll put you in a hidden room with him, and to keep you entertained he’ll play with toys with you, watch tv, sing to you, or just talk and tell you his past dreams. If your hellborn, then he’ll be less panicked about the extermination. But he wouldn’t let you outside, or near any of the doors and windows during that time.

-Lucifer would be very nervous to tell Charlie about you. He doesn’t want her to think he replaced her l, he just needs someone to take care of and protect that wouldn’t leave him. The day you met Charlie was the day Charlie had called him over to talk to him about getting them into heaven. And he thought it would be a “great” time to meet your older sister.

-You were Nervous, but more excited than your father. When Charlie saw you, she was overjoyed and knelt down on say hi, she was so kind and sweet to you. You were a little kid! She couldn’t be mean (if she was). She asked her father who you were and when she found out you were her adopted sister, she was both excited and heartbroken. She was upset. Not at you, her father. He was just starting another family being her back…? She would have loved to help raise you, play with you. But she can’t change the past, so she might as well make the most of your appearance now.

-After meeting Charlie, Lucifer brought you to her hotel more often after they felt with all the extermination stuff and rebuilt it. He’d leave you with Charlie for a weekend every now and then so you two could bond. You two have sleep overs all the time. Plus Vaggie. Vaggie likes getting involved, she wants to get to know you more and have someone from Charlie’s family like her more. You three have little “girls days” together, even jf alastor joins from time to time

-Speaking of Alastor, neither Charlie and Lucifer let you go near him alone. He’s too dangerous. Charlie will let you go near him, speak to him and play with him only if she is with you. Lucifer will not let you go near him at all. He tried to talk Charlie out of letting you see him, but Charlie doesn’t want to start any tension. Lucifer fears you may be taken away from him or hurt by Alastor. Charlie clearly likes Alastor more than him, and Lucifer doesn’t want it to happen again, so your interactions around Alastor are very limited here Lucifer is around.

-But he is a pretty great father otherwise. He wants to treat you right, and be there for you even if he couldn’t be there for Charlie.

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itz-amani · 3 months

Note

OMG IMAGINES PLEASE OF INTERACTIONS WITH HIGH SCHOOL NANAMI!

For the first time in my life finally! OMGGG THIS ONE HE IS SO EMO AHAHAH I will try my best :)

Thanks for your request!

''I'ts not that I don't like you!''

(Highschool Nanami x reader Imagines) pictures are'nt mine and sorry grammar error

a/n: fluff , a bit of suggestive

Highschool! Nanami the first time he met you, He hates how nice you are . To him , you are like ''happy go lucky or goody two shoes''. You are just like the combination of Haibara and Satoru . The way you greet him every time in the morning felt like a blessing but he is just in denial...

''Good morning Nanami -san !'' You smiled with cheerful smile

He looked away and just nodded , covering his mouth murmuring ''That smile of hers.. Gosh such a sweet girl.. ''

Even Haibara notice his best friend has a big fat ass crush on you. when he asked Nanami about his crush on you Nanami nearly cried. Its literally obvious how Nanami acts when you are around him.

''So you have a crush on her Nanami?~'' Haibara teased

''Please don't spill a word especially to that white hair creep..'' Nanami face reddened than Itadori's shoes.

Highschool! Nanami Who buys you your favorite snack at the vending machine because he knows food is your therapy and he knows how tired you are fighting curses why not treat his crush?

Highschool! Nanami Who got caught red handed by Gojo having a crush on you by having your photo smiling with a peace sign as his phone wallpaper. Gojo teases him like a lot and Geto thinks its cute.

Highschool! Nanami Who confessed to you with the help of Haibara ,Gojo and Geto because this man can't do without them.

''Sooo how are you gonna tell her Nanami? Haibara asked

''Seduce her in bed that will wor-OW SUGURU '' Gojo suggested but ended yelled in pain by Geto smacked his head

''That is not the answer Satoru..'' Geto facepalmed

Nanami ended up confessed to you by reciting a poetry about you ( what a sweet guy huh?)

Highschool! Nanami who has you laying on his lap while waiting for Haibara to finish his mission. You playing his fingers , ranting about life . the man always listen to you.

Highschool! Nanami Who listens to your crappy jokes even tho he thinks its annoying . The type that combs your hair , buys you your favorite color hairpins . He thinks its hot you wearing it.

Highschool! Nanami who gets jealous easily when Gojo talks with you. Gojo just wanted to tease Nanami how protective he is towards you . He once pissed off by Gojo lifting your chin he immediately pulls you away from Gojo , brings you to an empty corridor and having a make out session with you.

Highschool! Nanami and You got voted to be the cutest couple in the school

Highschool! Nanami who starts to saves money for you and him to live in Malaysia together when you guys are adults.

Highschool! Nanami who always have time to tutor you if you don't understand what subject you are hard to catchup especially mathematics. Study dates are always at a cafe or after school.

Highschool! Nanami who adores the couple bracelet you made for him like this photo https://i.pinimg.com/736x/17/6f/04/176f043438f365ffdbd83673308af0df.jpg

Highschool! Nanami who has his own playlist about you . sometimes you guys swap playlist . Shares his earphones with you listening to songs he thinks about you like

Die For You (The weeknd & Arianna Grande)

My love mine all mine (Mitski)

See you Again (Tyler the creator , Kali uchis )

Highschool! Nanami who makes sure you already tied you shoes , Your clumsiness he is just so protective

Highschool! Nanami who lays his head on your shoulder , his hand on your pinky on a train ride . He doesn't like to show his affections in public he prefers PDA when him and you alone.

Highschool! Nanami who invites Haibara to join your guys date such as hangin around in a cafe . The man himself is proud to Nanami's wingman. You and Haibara get along pretty well. He will and never invite Gojo.

Highschool! Nanami who always calls or facetime with you before going to bed .He can't sleep without seeing your face. He needs to make sure that you are in your room , reminding you to sleep early.

''Get some sleep love..''

''Okay if you insist Ken - Ken '' the nickname you gave him he couldn't help blushed a bit

Thank you for your request!

#jjk x reader #jjk comfort #jujutsu kaisen #kento nanami #nanami x reader #nanami x y/n #jjk x y/n #jjk x you #nanami kento #jjk nanami #jujutsu nanami #itz.amani writes

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konigsluvr · 9 months

Note

Hey hey! I'd like to request König headcanons please. I was thinking more of his childhood but it can be anything really :D thanks x

Also I'm an Avatar fan too! Don't seem to know a lot of people who are into both #teamneteyam

Hey!! I looooove Avatar so much, I haven't been reading it much lately but 2 months ago I was on tumblr all day, everyday just reading various Avatar fics (best days of my life). I miss neteyam so much :(( I really hope this is to your liking<3 i have included some NSFW headcannons, but there will be a warning, if you are uncomfortable, just skip. Reposts are highly appreciated. I will literally marry you. And of course, here I present...

★ navigation ★ masterlist ★

König Headcanons

Includes: Childhood König. König x fem!reader. Fluff. Spice. Smut.

☆ As said in his biography, he has suffered from severe social anxiety throughout his life. This probably started developing in maybe late childhood/early teens.

☆ I can picture him as the quiet kid in school. Had a couple chill friends that he was comfortable around and hung out with after school.

☆ I think König was average grade student (like me lmao), not bad grades but not super good either, he just did what he had to do at school.

☆ He liked helping around the house so he could contribute and help his parents save time.

☆ He applied to the military at 17, having a job that allows him to blow off steam would help with his anxiety sometimes but if it's a more dangerous mission than usual, his anxiety might peak but he could have coping mechanisms.

☆ Even though he is 6'10" and literally all muscle, he can't stay still. Due to his anxiety again, he is fidgety at times depending on the social situation he is in. Now this leads onto the relationship stuff.

☆ With him being fidgety, I feel his love language is physical touch. He can sometimes struggle with his words but you always know that he loves you when he cuddles you or does little things like playing with your hair or holding your hand whenever you are in public.

☆ König isn't the best at working with technology but you'll show him how he can text you and phone you, so whenever he has free time at base or whenever he isn't with you, expect him spamming you with texts because he misses you so much :((

☆ He has a gym at home for when he wants to work out but with him having such a physical job he doesn't feel the need to workout everyday, maybe 3 or 4 times a week when he's home with you but at base he'll do it more as its like the only thing to do there.

☆ He enjoys going on walks. When he's home with you he'll love going on a walk in the woods or just wondering around town with you, go shopping to get food for supper or something, he'll sneakily buy flowers to surprise you. At base, he sometimes can't sleep well so he'll just walk around for some fresh air to clear his mind.

☆ His down time with you would be watching your favourite show or a random movie. He would do it just to cuddle up or be with you but he will get invested. Like I watched the notebook last night and I was thinking about König crying as you watch the notebook together.

☆ Like you'll be watching the movie and a sad scene comes up, you are already crying and you hear a sniffle but it isn't from you. You turn to your left and see a tear rolling down Königs cheek. This will make you cry harder as you wipe away his tears and cuddle into his neck.

☆ With König having a high payed job, he has a lot of money that he doesn't know how to spend. Lucky him, he has you. You would tell him its no bother, that you have enough clothes and pretty jewellery to last you a lifetime but he drags you to the car to your favourite store and you can't help but give in.

☆ He would get a former guard dog and train it to only command you and him, this dog would stay at home with you all the time. You would take it out walks and just spend your whole day with it. He wants to make sure you are safe all of the time.

NSFW AHEAD!!

☆ He likes to take it slow, make ethereal love to you and treat you like your made of glass. You would let a few tears roll down your cheek from his sweetness.

☆ Pussy eater!!! He is like a god with his tongue. Worships your clit like its his favourite thing while his fingers work in and out of you. It doesn't matter if you are crying from overstimulation, you have a safe word. His only mission is making you cum.

☆ Loves face sitting, literally just loves your pussy on his face and your thighs pushing against the side of his head. You would tell him that you are too heavy, he huffs frustrated and pulls you down on him and instantly gets to work. Let's just say, you forgot about what you said 3 seconds ago.

☆ Breeding kink. Sorry, not sorry. In all his fantasies about you, it's you all pretty n pregnant with his baby. You will have that pregnant woman glow and he just can't keep his hands off of you. He doesn't really wear condoms but you'll usually be on the pill, he still struggles to pull out but it's nearly impossible for him. But when he does cum in you, he finds it the sexiest thing ever. He'll use his fingers to plunge his load back into you to feed his growing hunger.

☆ He loves when you top him and take your time with him, but he also enjoys being in charge and having his sole focus on you, even if you just came for the fourth time from his tongue and his cock is rock hard.

☆ The ratio between him giving you head and you giving him head is very diverse. He loves a good blowie but only does it when you want to, he will never ask you.

☆ Isn't one for quickies, he wants to take his time with you. He wouldn't like the risk of someone else seeing you being intimate with him, that is a sight only for him to see.

☆ Isn't afraid to make noise in the bedroom. Whimpering. Moaning. Whining. Groaning. He does it all.

I hoped you liked this!! If you have any more requests don't be shy. Stay safe and take care of yourself my lovies xx

#konig mw2 #konig cod #konig x reader #konig call of duty #konig modern warfare #konig headcanons #konig #call of duty x reader #call of duty modern warfare #call of duty mw2 #call of duty #konig fluff #konig smut #konigsluvr

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lavendermunson · 5 months

Text

gingerbread - eddie munson

day 1 of leia's christmas tree farm

cw no one just fluff. gilmore!reader working with sookie!

It was the way his curls framed his beautiful face, his big brown eyes shining under the soft yellow lights of the bakery, the way his fingers poked into his vest’s pockets to find the quarters for the tip jar.

You’ve always looked at him with a sense of hope. Even if it’s while packing orders, fixing the last-minute details on a cake, or replacing stuff on the shelves. But now that you are taking care of everything at the front – because Sookie told you and the kitchen is a mess anyway – he’s going to come in any minute now, along with his uncle, of course. He is going to order the ‘muffin of the day’ and you’ll look for the one who has more chocolate chips since that’s the flavor you picked for the special today.

You see his van pull up in front of the store, he has a red beanie on that matches his signature Dio vest. But even with all of the winter accessories in the world, the top of his nose is still red and cold just like his cheeks. He tries to warm his hands, rubbing them together even with his rings on.

“What are you- oh! the cute guy” Sookie’s voice makes you jump, shaking your head to get out of your thoughts and try to act like a normal person. Your crush on Eddie is not a secret between you and your employer, who happens to be your mom's best friend too.

“Shh, I'm not ready for this. Can you take his order for me?” you ask her, she notices the anxiety on your face.

“Nope, you got this sweetie!” Sookie goes back to the kitchen leaving you alone, damn it.

The bell of the store rings and as you look up, he stands in front of you. Just looking at you with a shine in his eyes and a little small on his face.

“Hey,” Eddie says, not noticing the way your body shakes at his words.

“Hey, welcome to Sookie’s, what can I get for you?”

You follow the script, it’s easy. He’ll order his usual, you’ll serve him, he’ll pay and eventually leave. Leaving you with your empty heart and your longing for him.

“I’m not sure, I want something new… something sweeter. Can you help me with that?”

A grin shows up on his face, his words getting in your head and your cheeks getting that pink tone. Yeah, you can help, you’d do anything.

“I think we have some-“

Sookie comes back from the kitchen, with a new batch of gingerbread cookies. The recipe you created for weeks.

“Hey! Eddie? Where's your uncle?” she asks, stealing Eddie’s attention from you.

“He is at home, took a very much-needed day off and he’s cleaning his mug collection. I didn't want to get in the way”

His pretty curls bounce as he shakes his head and an adorable giggle falls off from his lips. He has you right in the palm of his hand and doesn’t even notice.

“Wonderful, hope he gets some rest. Would you like to try our new gingerbread recipe? my favorite sous chef made this recipe”

Sookie nudges your arm, pushing the tray of cookies toward Eddie, who hesitates before leaning back.

“Sorry. I hate gingerbread, but I’m sure they are amazing!”

Sookie returns to the kitchen after telling Eddie not to worry offering a smile and leaving the tray of cookies for you to display.

“I am so, so sorry”

“Don’t worry about it, what can I get for you today”

“Yeah, uh, three red velvet cupcakes and.…” he pauses while hunching down and looking at all the pastries. “Four chocolate chip cookies please" For a moment his gaze locks with your eyes, and his cheeks glow red as yours when he sees you smiling at him.

If he could, he would kiss you right now to show you just how lucky and grateful he is to see your face almost every day. Here. At school. At parties. At the public library.

“Anything else?” you ask, trying to help and trying for a speech to come out of your lips to make him buy more sweets for his uncle.

You carefully place his order in a box, taking extra care not to smush the cupcakes. He looks at you, admiring your pink glossy lips, rosy cheeks, and cute apron.

“You” his voice is soft, but firm. The unexpected and tiny confession makes your heart thump as loud as it can against your chest.

Your breath hitches in your throat as he returns to be in front of you, placing both of his hands on the counter. Goosebumps are taking all over your body if he wants to distract you, he sure has.

“Your total is 13 dollars with 35 cents” you blur out. He lets out a chuckle when you avoid his eyes, focusing on writing his receipt and accepting the money just to give him his change.

“Thank you. But I’m still missing one thing” Eddie notices the way you bite your lower lip hiding your smile as his words come in a surprise. He has wanted to make a move for so long. “Can you take a break?”

He holds the little box you gave him between his hands, his ringed fingers tapping at the cardboard impatiently. You smile as he waits for your answer, it was not a joke, you weren’t dreaming. Eddie has this mischievous grin on his face that just makes your stomach fill with butterflies.

“I’ll ask, wait for me by the back door”

You run up to the kitchen and ask Sookie for a break. She says you only have five minutes because you already had a long break and she needs you to take the customer’s orders.

You pause at the back door to check your reflection in the mirror, smoothing your hair and adding a touch more lip gloss. As you turn to leave, you realize you've forgotten to remove your apron. It's too late to do anything about it, though, because as soon as you open the door, you come face to face with Eddie.

“I mean it, I want you. I’ve had this crush on you for a while now. Every time I come here it’s to see you and I’d love to-“

His words get cut off by the way you press his lips against his. His hands find your waist giving them a soft squeeze before tangling his arms around you to push you closer. You steady yourself on your tippy toes, and reach for him, placing your hands on his shoulders.

With one hand, you tangle your fingers in the curls at the back of his neck, keeping him close.

“I’d love to take you on a date” Eddie finishes his sentence when he breaks the kiss. “Would you give me the honor of taking you on a date?”

“Yes. Yes, I want to. I want you too, Eddie” You nod, smiling big as his eyes glow. He feels you shaking under him, of course. You forgot your coat.

He hugs you closer to his body, trying to shield you from the cold. You take comfort in his embrace, letting your arms fall to the side of his body, and get inside his jacket to hug him and warm your hands.

“By the way… you taste good. I mean, the kiss, you-“

“I ate a lot of gingerbread cookies”

You look up at him, trying to stay close for warmth but wanting to see his face.

“And you said you didn’t like it” you tease.

He smiles at you, giggling.

“Now I don’t mind, not when I get to do this again”

He leans in and kisses you again while holding you close. He doesn’t care about the cold, he doesn’t even care about the taste he swore he hated. He only cares about you, his future girl.

reblog to support your creators! comments are appreciated !! ♡ thank you for following my christmas event, remember you can still request a gift!

forgot who made the first divider, please claim or tag them. second divider by saradika

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nostalgiccrystalic · 3 months

Note

Can you write a fic on how it's like to date shuji

Sure!! Sorry that it took so long, and it might be a little bit short, I will try to write longer things in the future...

What dating Shuji would look like

Protective

Shuji is definitely very, very protective of you, but not oveprotective. He always has his hand hanging on your shoulder or on your waist, keeping you close to him, and you usually like it that way, just as much as he does. He will deal with somebody who makes you sad or who hurted you, you can count on it, he either goes straight to talk with that person with his friends beside him, telling them that they should fuck off, or he beats that person up (but usually his talk solves the whole thing up). You feel very around shuji.

Proud

You're both in the same school, of course that you both will spend some or even every break together. Some people could think that he feels ashamed bringing you near his friends (like he kinda did, with his sister Maya), but he isn't ashamed at all, he feels proud that he can always have his hands on you, and give you little kisses on your face, he doesn't really give a shit about what his friends think of that.

He also feels proud of you in front of his family, both of his parents really like you, and Maya adores you,

Really affectionate

In my opinion he's very affectionate (even though I saw people writing him as the opposite), he loves to hold your hand in public, likes it when you put your head on his shoulder and when you kiss him out od nowhere, he finds it adorable. When you're both alone, he likes to just hold you close to him, and tell you how lucky he is to have you and how much he loves you, he's the cutest guy.

Spending time with him

He usually takes you to some unique and cool places that he knows, he trusts you with them, and knows that you won't show them to anyone else. You sit there and talk, sometimes you bring snacks and drinks to just chillout.

When you're at his home, you both play video games, and usually Maya hangs out in there with you too, she goofs around so you and Shuji have a good laugh with her.

When you're at your home, you just listen to your favourite music, watch your favourite movies and talk about everything, you dont have any taboo topics.

#pen15 #pen15 x reader #shujiishiipeters

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spoilmesweetieforficssake · 1 year

Note

Hi can I please request 5 on Valentines list for Melissa x Reader (Reader is also a teacher and the reader is the one who wears a hot outfit in public) thanks.

"You're gonna wear that in public?" "Is there something wrong with it?" "I'm gonna have to find a stick to beat people off with, is all."

Ask and ye shall receive.

So I had already envisaged a little something for this when I first read the prompts, but had it the other way around, that Melissa was in the outfit. Worry not though, since you were so kind as to ask, this has ended up a request one, get one free.

Hope you enjoy!

Reader (All Dressed Up With Somewhere To Go)

You were pretty sure you had tried on every single item of clothing in your wardrobe as you stood before the mirror in your bedroom, the bed now strewn with rejected outfits. Your eyes flicked to the clock on the wall. Melissa was due to pick you up in twenty minutes. If you wanted to have any chance of taming your hair and putting your make-up on what you were wearing would have to do.

You weren’t good on dates and if you were honest, had no idea how quiet how you’d been lucky enough to score a date with Melissa. You had been struck by her appearance since the moment you started at Abbott. Always having a soft spot for red heads, your crush on her felt almost inevitable. The more you got to know her, your crush only grew until you had to admit you were head over heels in love with the woman.

You had done your best to keep it under wraps, but it had proved rather difficult with a camera crew around. It had proved all but impossible after Barbara had reviewed a few clips of she and Melissa for the crew and had caught sight of the adoring expression aimed at her best friend on your face in the background.

To your shock, she had encouraged you to pursue the red head. She had, on the next breath warned you that you would not like the consequences if you hurt Melissa, but your overall take away from the conversation was that she was in support of a potential relationship.

You really hoped never to find out what those consequences may be. A successful date tonight felt like the first step in avoiding a furious Barbara Howard come Monday morning. Making quick work of your minimal make-up, you moved on to your hair. There was no time for any elaborate styling, but as you stepped back to take in your final appearance, you found yourself giving a nod of approval.

It was nothing you’d ever wear at school. Too revealing by far, and most definitely not practical for teaching small children in. But for a date, well, you hoped it might just pass muster.

You didn’t have a chance to worry or ponder further as you heard the buzzer for your apartment door. A quick glance at your phone confirms that Melissa is precisely on time. You quickly trot to answer, about to tell her you’ll be right down, when her voice comes through the tinny speaker.

“First floor, first on the right, yeah?”

“The very one,” you reply, a smile on your lips at the fact she remembers.

You move to open your door in readiness. You draw in a nervous, stuttering breath as the sound of her heels on the concrete steps gets louder the closer she gets. Your breath catches in your throat as she turns the corner. Of course she would wear the leather pants. She knows the effect they have on you.

“You’re gonna wear that in public?” Is what you get by way of a greeting.

You look down at yourself. Yes, it was different from what you wore at school but it wasn’t that bad, was it? “Is there something wrong with it?”

“Hon, there’s nothing wrong with it.”

You look up to find Melissa stalking towards you, an expression you haven’t seen before on her face; pure undisguised lust.

“Nothing wrong with it at all,” she repeats, her eyes travelling up from your heels as her gaze slowly rises to meet yours. “I’m gonna have to find a stick to beat people off with, is all.”

You feel a blush colour your cheeks as she finally comes to stand before you. The compliment is unexpected, but somehow very Melissa.

“And beat them off I will,” she smirks. “Because it looks like I got myself a date with the hottest chick in town.” She pulls one hand from behind her back, presenting you with a single red rose. In that moment, the bravado is gone. There’s a soft, hesitant look on her face as she holds the flower out to you. It’s adorably romantic and you can’t help but fall a little bit more in love with her.

“Thank you,” you say quietly as you carefully take the rose. There’s a line being crossed here and you’re sure you can both feel it. “It’s lovely. As are you.”

Now it seems it’s Melissa’s turn to blush.

You step forward, cupping her cheek with your free hand. “Are we really doing this?”

She knows what you’re asking. You’re friends, and to ask for more feels selfish and greedy, but oh how you want it. But only if she does too. “We are,” she says, her voice soft as her eyes flick towards your lips in unspoken question.

Your answer is to lean forward and press the ghost of a kiss to her lips, careful not to smudge her make-up.

“We’re definitely doing this,” she grins as her eyes flutter open. “Especially with you looking like that.”

Melissa (The Lady In Red)

“You’re gonna wear that in public?” The words are out of your mouth before you can stop them.

Melissa stops suddenly, still fastening the back on her earring. “Is there something wrong with it?” she asks as she looks down at her outfit, her voice full of false bravado. Her face tells you another story, however. To most, it wouldn’t be noticeable, but you’ve spent hours cataloguing every minute detail of her face. You could write a book on the minutia of her expressions. Her jaw clenches slightly, a flicker of worry in her eyes that won’t quite meet yours. For all she tries to be tough, you know behind that hard exterior, she’s still scared and unsure, the age gap between you often playing on her mind, even if it’s the furthest thing from yours.

It's knowledge that’s been hard gained. For the first few months of your Abbott career Melissa had tolerated you at best. You had tried not to take it personally, learning that she apparently did it to all new teachers at Abbott. No point in wasting time in getting to know you if you were just going to leave. Except you hadn’t. Semesters and holidays came and went, and you were still there. Still giving everything you could to help the kids in your class.

That had earned you some respect, but what broke the silence between you both were your actions during a fire alarm. Your kids were easy enough corral towards the exit, but as you reached the doors, you caught sight of Melissa trying to guide the huge number of students in her now double class in the right direction while still trying to calm a hysterical little girl who clung to the doorframe. Her aid was nowhere to be seen, though even if she had been she would likely have been of little use.

Telling your kids to head outside and line up nicely in front of Ava, who you guessed would have been the first to leg it from the building when the alarm went off, you turned back to go and help the redhead. At the time, neither of you knew it was a kitchen mishap that had caused the alarm to go off, so as far as you were aware, the threat was real and the only thing on your minds was getting the kids out safely.

By the time you reach her classroom door the little girl who had been by Melissa side had retreated back into the room, now hiding under her desk. “What’s more likely, them following me or her letting me help?” you ask without preamble.

She looks up at you in surprise, not having heard you approach above the din. “Uh, I…I’ll get them, you grab her.”

You nod, not questioning her for a moment as she moves to stand before her students. Able to focus her attention on the mass of noisy children in front of her she quickly gets them in line, pausing before leading them to the exit to throw a worried glance at you.

“Go, I got this,” you tell her. “I’ll be right behind you.”

She hesitates for a moment, but nods, beginning to lead her kids along the hallway while you locate the terrified little girl under Melissa’s desk. Crouching down, you off her a smile. “It’s getting kinda loud and scary in here, isn’t it?”

She nods, tears streaming down her face.

Reaching behind you, you pull Melissa’s jacket off the back of her chair, struck by an idea. “How about you hide under Ms Schemmenti’s magic jacket? You’ve seen how she’s not afraid of anything, haven’t you?”

The girl nods, her lip trembling.

“That’s because she’s got magic in her jacket. It’s like a knight’s armour. You hide under here and nothing will be able to hurt you.”

The girl darts forward and throws her arms around your neck, allowing you to drape Melissa’s leather jacket around her before lifting her in your arms and making a hasty exit towards the fire door.

You find Melissa outside, the relief on her face obvious when she sees you. She frowns, however, on seeing her jacket covering the small girl in your arms. Ducking your head, you whisper to the girl. “You think you can go to Ms Schemmenti? She’s even more magic than her jacket. She’ll make sure nothing bad happens.”

It gets you a raised eyebrow as you pass the girl into her arms, where she immediately burrows into the redhead, but you wave it off, offering a smile before heading to find your own class.

She had found you after school that day, a smirk on her face as she asked precisely what you found so magical about her.

As icebreakers went, it wasn’t the worst, even if it did make you blush terribly. You’re still not quite sure what you managed to tell her in answer to her question, but apparently it was the right answer, given that a few weeks after the incident you had gone on your first date.

You push yourself up from where you had been sitting on the sofa, coming to stand in front of her, taking her in in all her glory. “Not a thing,” you smile softly. “You look stunning.”

And she does, her make-up minimal apart from her vibrant lipstick and her hair in loose curls, just the way she knows you love. The outfit isn’t half bad either. She suits red, and when it’s a dress that highlights her curves with a neckline showcasing her assets she really suits it. The bright colour contrasts her milky skin and has a way of drawing the eye. “I only had to say something because I’m gonna have to find a stick to beat people off with, is all. You don’t happen to have a spare baseball bat taped around here somewhere, do you?”

You watch as a blush spreads across her cheeks. “Shut up!” she says with a laugh.

She makes to walk past you but you catch her hand, turning her to face you once more. “I’m serious. You look beautiful.”

She ducks her head. It’s a habit, you’ve noticed. Tell her she looks hot or sexy and she takes it with a smug smile. Call her beautiful and she goes immediately bashful on you, like she doesn’t quite believe it. It's something you’re working on.

“Now, I know that you’ve put your lipstick on already but if you don’t let me kiss you now it’s going to the only thing I think about tonight and that’s not fair on Barb when it’s her birthday.”

“The only thing, huh?” she smirks, regaining a little more of her usual composure as she sees your eyes drift from her face.

“Shut up and kiss me,” you whisper, already leaning in to capture her lips. Your cab wasn’t due for another ten minutes. Plenty of time for a make-up touch up.

#melissa schemmenti x reader #melissa schemmenti

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arieswritez · 6 months

Text

Prodigal Son

prodigal son - derek goffard x afab!reader

cw: MDNI!!!! implied & actual noncon, threats of violence & actual violence, knifeplay, unprotected sex, creampie, weird old men, abuse of power, slight sacrilege (if you squint idk i have religious trauma), derek

about: one of my derek hcs (and i have plenty ‘cause my brain is too fried to write actual fanfic) is that not only is he well known but he is actually very well liked. (~2.3k words)

a/n: this has been sitting in my private posts for the longest & it keeps getting buried under other posts so here it is before it disappears into the abyss <3 is there a second part? maybe. will it take me forever to post it? yes. xx barely read through so if there's some grammatical errors im srry ;( will be editing if needed

the public views the goffards as royal adjacent: his face plastered on nearly every magazine, listing him as the country’s most eligible bachelor. you read about the goffard brothers and their lives of luxury, private schools, boats, villas in italy, and rumoured engagements with duchesses. you remember gushing over them with your friends. . and while they seemed to like matt goffard better, your attention was on derek. getting your hands on every magazine with his face on it and following any blog dedicated to him.

however, despite how much his image sells, not much is known about derek other than the fact that he’s next in line to take over the goffard business. derek is known for many things but his personality is not one of them.

media training may have prepared him to smile and smolder into a camera but those who really know him know that his personality is just. . off-putting. a smile that doesn’t meet the eyes, not talking or even making eye contact with anyone he considers to be “the help”.

his father has done a good job at using derek’s good looks to his advantage. he’s spent a pretty penny cleaning up his messes and his PR team has been working with derek ever since he started to become an absolute terror (around age 13).

and so, with a lot of training, derek learns how to subdue it: suppressing a sneer of disgust when someone attempts to engage him in conversation. he still finds it hard not to lash out when someone so much as brushes their shoulders against him, when he catches a whiff of the cheap cologne and/or perfume clinging to their clothing.

and when the dam eventually cracks: it's ridiculously easy to patch up. because behind that carefully curated image is a long string of accusations of harassment, hush money, NDA’s and lawsuits that’ll never see the light of day thanks to daddy dearest. derek's victims have either been intimidated into silence by the business mogul or simply disappeared off the face of the earth.

derek's father has worked his ass off and he'd be damned if some nobodies ruin the mirage he's created.

from the outside looking in, the goffards - particularly the brothers - are just your average nepo babies. everyone fantasizes about being them. or winning the lottery and marrying into wealth.

it’s only when you meet derek that you realize the goffard empire is more of a jungle than it is a monarchy.

it’s a busy night at the upscale restaurant you work in. and everyone tells you: "you’re lucky you’ve got this gig."

on most days, that’s hard to believe: rich snobs that treat you like you’re shit smeared beneath their shoe and don’t tip well. but that night, with the staff urgently trying to get around, you figure they may be right. . because you get derek’s table.

lucky you <3

derek is with his father, a couple business partners, and two rugged men with shifting eyes who you assume are their bodyguards. he looked like a dream in person. his usually tousled blond hair slicked back, dressed all in black. his dress shirt slightly unbuttoned: his trademark 'disheveled' look you're sure was actually carefully styled. and against his chest, you notice a plain gold chain that was undoubtedly worth more than your yearly salary.

if you thought he looked good in pictures, he looked godly in person.

you do your best to contain your excitement, trying to make a good impression when you introduce yourself. the pitch in your voice heightening - as it always does while on the clock - and you gave your best smile. his father and the other business men seem to be more. . welcoming. or at least in that awkward way old rich white men have of being patronizing and flirting with you at the same time. you couldn’t keep track of the amount of times they’ve called you ‘sweetheart’ , ‘babe’, or ‘doll’.

derek, however, hardly looks at you. he just orders from the menu, giving you short and cutting answers when you inquire about anything, then tossing the menu in your general direction - you hadn’t finished talking - without as much as glancing at you. the menu nearly slides off the table and you feel your face heat up in embarrassment when you fumble to catch it.

and despite how you think he hardly notices you. . he does. from the corner of his eye, he watches your disheartened figure walk away, and the corner of his mouth perks up.

he’s extremely demanding the entire night you serve him. everything you do is wrong in his eyes. the food was cold. too much salt. not enough salt.

i found your hair in the food, i’m not eating that.

you forgot the asparagus i ordered.

the steak isn't medium, it's cooked to shit.

can you do anything right?

your brain feels like mush and the cooks are tearing you to shreds in the kitchen because they can’t get to derek themselves.

eventually, derek’s father must catch on to derek's sour attitude and asks for the check. you curse yourself. it's been a long, ego destroying night & now you’re 100% sure you’re not getting a tip.

you just bow your head and apologize for the umpteenth over your ‘subpar service’ and pick up the table’s plates.

and as you hold back tears, you don’t notice how derek’s is missing his steak knife.

after being glared at by half the kitchen staff - it’ll be a miracle if you still have your job come morning - you scurry into the bathroom to have a good cry.

unfortunately, derek’s been watching you like a hawk. you are quite predictable. or maybe he’s just done this to many women before you.

derek excuses himself from the table and follows you. you hadn’t done anything out of the ordinary. you weren’t special. there was nothing unique about you. and for his standards - considering he constantly had a supermodel on his dick - you were just. . plain as hell.

you just so happened to be at the wrong place at the wrong time. which was unfortunate for you, of course, seeing as how derek figured someone the likes of you couldn’t exactly afford days off.

and it’s exactly that that caused you to be pinned face first against one of the stalls, the steak knife pressed against your throat, your work skirt flipped over your hips, your stockings and panties torn, and his cock inside you.

when he first attacked you, it happened so fast you didn’t catch a glimpse of who it was.

you were washing your face, not caring if you were removing your makeup in the process: what difference did it make, anyway?

you looked up into the mirror, expecting to see bloodshot eyes and a runny nose. . only to have your head bounced off of the glass.

your ears rang.

you stumbled.

and a hand wrapped around your arm and threw you up against one of the empty stalls.

someone flattened themselves up against you, a hardness pressing against your back.

you recognized his voice first, when he hissed into your ear,

“scream and i’ll slit your fucking throat.”

then, by scent: his expensive cologne choking you as he caged you in and jackhammered into you.

despite his stone cold demeanor towards you the entire night, his mouth stayed latched onto your skin: biting down in an attempt to smother the needy whines and moans that crawled out of his throat. you barely breathed, choking on your cries, hoping the blade wouldn’t slip in his shaking grip.

you were no one.

just another poor little toy derek wanted to break but for some reason, you’d managed to get him all pent up. seeing you fumble around while he berated you . . and now seeing you try to stifle your cries of pain had his balls drawing up. his other hand groped your breast, the knife leaving your throat long enough for him to grab your face and make you look at him over your shoulder.

“beg me,” he hissed. “beg me to come inside you. c’mon. . don’t you want it to be over~?”

you sniffled, letting out a surprised cry of pain at a particularly hard thrust.

"pl-please -" you cried out, unable to get the words out between your sobbing. "please-"

"p-p-please~" he mimicked your whines in a high pitched, exaggerated way. "please what? please what, huh? fuck you harder? cut you? kill you? you want me to put you out of your fucking misery in a dirty bathroom stall?"

everything hurt, your neck was twisted at an awkward angle, your head throbbed, and the friction between your legs was unbearable. he was right, you did want it to be over.

you wanted to go home and wash his cologne out of your ruined work uniform. you wanted to hold your head underwater until the scent evaporated from within your nostrils.

or go back to the time in which you were offered this job and refuse it.

or just not show up that day.

you'd wanted to call out that night, lie about being sick and binge watch trashy television. you wanted to reach an epiphany & snap out of it, trash all the magazines with Derek's fucking face plastered all over them, and kiss your daydreams of prince charming goodbye.

but most of all, you wanted him to get it over with and finish .

so you settled with appeasing him. because he's the one with the power. the money. the fame.

and the one with a knife to your throat.

you didn't care what it might take: you just wanted him to finish. but you didn't say that. you couldn't. so, instead, you managed to whisper,

"please - cum inside me."

the blade nicked you and you swear you saw your life flash before your eyes. the sick fuck was gonna gut you before he finished, you were sure of it.

but the searing pain, the warmth of blood cascading down the valley of your chest, the bright white light promised to you by kind eyed priests and mentioned in the prayers fallen from your mother's lips - never came. instead, you felt the harsh pinch of teeth clamping down onto your shoulder, muffling a strangled shout.

derek flattened you against the stall, rutting up against you. hunched over you, he unlocked his jaw and burrowed his face at the juncture where neck meets shoulder, panting condensation into your skin as he fucked his release into you.

against better judgement, your toes curled into the ridiculous, shiny flats your manager forced you to wear. a spike of. . pleasure. . zapped up your spine as derek's cock incessantly pressed against a spot inside you, throbbing and spurting so much cum it leaked out and dripped down your thighs.

you squeezed around him and there was a soft, whimpering moan.

you weren't sure which one of you'd let it out. but the sound seemed to sober derek up. he straightened suddenly, pulling away from you.

vertigo overtook you. he didn’t catch you when your knees gave and you collapsed. you heard the jingle of a belt, a zipper going up, then, you saw him step out and over you to push the stall open.

he didn't look back at you as he went to the sink, turned on the faucet, and wet his hands, slicking his hair back once again. you caught his reflection in the mirror: a soft flush against tan skin, spreading across his face, down his neck, and to his chest where his expensive, crisp, black dress shirt had been slightly unbuttoned.

his eyes met yours in the mirror.

and you wish you could say you saw something in them. disgust. contempt. lust. but there was nothing. it was as if he'd just seen a stranger in passing. he'd barely registered your existence, looked at you like one might look at the crack of a sidewalk they always pass by on their way to work.

not at all.

and then he was gone.

and a part of you wondered if you'd just imagined it. if it was all just some fucked up dream. you could've convinced yourself, too, if it weren't for the fact that you could still feel him inside you.

you were still crying, you realized, when teardrops landed on your cracked phone screen when your shaking hands managed to grasp it.

you checked the time through blurry vision. you were almost off.

you crawled to your knees and tried to push yourself up to no avail. your vision swam. and before you could register what was happening, everything faded to black.

you were out when the bathroom door opened.

one of the rugged men that were once seated at mr.goffard's table looked down at your crumpled figure on the floor. the man didn't say anything and simply closed the door. a few moments later, the bathroom door opened again. this time, the other man joined the first. without an ounce of hesitation, one of the men gathered your unconscious body and walked out.

no one noticed.

or no one cared to watch you get hauled away and into the shiny, black limousine of the goffards. you imagined averted eyes and anxious sips of wine of fellow restaurant goers as the footsteps of the country's most powerful men passed them by. clicking cutlery and knowing looks passed between couples. what would no doubt be the gossip on their way home back to their massive, lifeless homes.

the wife would say, "poor thing," as the husband unzipped her dress. the husband would hum. and that'd be the end of it.

nothing would be done.

and whether you're ever seen again or not doesn't matter because you'll soon be forgotten. and no one's risking their lifelihood for someone as insignificant as you.

after all, no one's ever dared to say no to mr. goffard's prodigal son.

#derek goffard #derek goffard x reader #tpof derek #art and characters by gatobob #i've never worked in a restaurant can u tell #hes so groddy i wanna eat him #oh to have your idol be a disgusting degenerate #never meet your heroes #but they never said anything about fucking them #tpof #the price of flesh #art by gatobob #gatobob #derek tpof

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bunnihoshiki · 1 year

Text

★ (ᗒᗣᗕ)՞ 𝐂𝐋𝐘𝐃𝐄 𝐗 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐍𝐒

🐰 . . 𝐑𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐛𝐲 ⋆ None

💭 . . 𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠/𝐬 ⋆ Clyde Donovan x Gn!Reader

🐰 . . 𝐒𝐲𝐩𝐧𝐨𝐬𝐢𝐬 ⋆ What it's like dating the sweetheart clyde!

💭 . . 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠/𝐬 ⋆!! Teen clyde !! Gender neutral reader, you/your pronouns used, Mentions of fighting, very ooc since ik clyde doesn't like texting that much

🐰 . . 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞 ⋆ Clyde is such a cutie so ofc hoshiki had to write him first! Please tell hoshiki if there's anything wrong he wrote this in like 40 minutes

Navi | Masterlist

𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐖𝐎𝐔𝐋𝐃 𝐃𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐂𝐋𝐘𝐃𝐄 𝐁𝐄 𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄 ?

It won't matter if you just got into the relationship he would still be constantly showing you off. It's either you being the main topic or small mentions of you, no in between. Clyde takes pride of being your boyfriend so of course he wants to talk or atleast mention about you. Even if the topic wasn't exactly directed to you he always manages to get you on the topic.

On the other hand, if you're right beside him he gets all lovely dovely with you. Small kisses, holding hands, hugging you close, and many more!

if you're at the early stages of your relationship he gets more embarrassed and nervous about it so he might not initiate the actions first. The only time he would gladly show you off is when you give him a sign that you show that you're okay with it! Or if you initiate it first. He'll act all annoyed but in the inside his heart will melt.

And despite being shy or open about your relationship he still wants you to know that you're his and his only. With or without him next to you so that would mean he would either text you whining about how much he misses you or rant about his day OR give you small gifts to make you remind of him.

90% he gives you random stuff since he doesn't actually think if you'll like it or not. It's more of a "this is cooool! I'm gonna get this for Y/n" rather than "Y/n will like this" but you'll still cherish each and every gift.

Stealing each other's clothes is a must. He wouldn't let you some of his clothes like his lucky shirt but he would enjoy seeing you in his other clothes. He won't care about the size difference, he just loves to have his clothes on you. It shows how much you really love him. Of course, HE would also steal your clothes! It's only fair after all.

After school ends the first person you'll see is your sweetheart clyde. He doesn't want you seeing someone else other than him before school and after school so he would always plan out how he should to get to you first.

He does get a little possessive when you aren't paying most of your attention to him so to fix that he would always walk you home to spend a little more time with you, no matter the circumstances.

Both of you always acts lovely dovely. Even better when it's out in the public but he does respect you when you don't want to.

Please let him act all dominate and manly around you, he'll cry out of embarrassment, please.

Clyde acts so sweet around you, he would want to be that 'stereotypical, cool, handsome jock' but he loses his act when you're around him.

You're just a generally amazing person and you don't even realize his act! it would also make him feel somehow guilty if it's your first time being in a relationship so he would act nice with you.

But of course every relationship has its wrong. When you're at the late stage of the relationship clyde will get further away from you. He doesn't spend time with you that much, he doesn't act that much a sweetheart anymore and is sort of... Ignoring you? He even ditched a date to hang out with his friends when both of you clearly scheduled it together.

Because of that it would make you feel insecure. You're sure clyde didn't mean it but it makes you get unpleasant thoughts about it. 'what if he doesn't love me anymore? What if he loves someone else?' and that feelings will lead to an argument. It's just alot of misunderstanding but after that clyde will apologize.

He always apologizes first due to his emotional heart but please comfort him after, he would cry 10x harder than you.

Aside from that clyde is such a sweetheart and would always make you feel loved!

──────────────────────────────────

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whatsnewalycat · 2 years

Text

Just Dumb Enough to Try

Chapter 14: Savior Complex

Word Count: 5k

Pairing: Javier Peña x F!Reader

Rating: Explicit (18+ only)

Tags / CW: swearing, cheating/infidelity, smoking, alcohol use, domestic abuse, nightmare, mutual masturbation, PIV sex, fluff, making out in public, banter, attempts at jokes, made up a middle name for Javi, movie nerd shit, angst, deep talk, argument, crows?

Chapter Summary: Our heroes share secrets, take pictures, and get some drinks.

Notes: Chapter title from "Savior Complex" by Phoebe Bridgers. I'm done with my summer classes so I'm celebrating like a fucking dork and putting this out today (in addition to a chapter on Sunday). Just a heads up since I gave a warning last chapter, there will be some domestic violence scattered throughout this series until... well, when you know you'll know. But I probably won't mention it again in my notes unless I feel the content warrants an additional warning. OK THANKS FOR READING!

[ First Chapter ] [ Previous Chapter ] [ Spotify Playlist ] [ AO3 ]

151 Fir St N, Laredo, TX July 1, 1998

“I’m just saying, you’re lucky you didn’t break your goddamn hand,” Javier observes, leaning on the doorway of your bedroom. He’s watching you with curiosity as you apply makeup at your vanity.

I’m sure his watchful eye has nothing to do with the fact that I’m only wearing a robe.

“I’ve been wanting to punch him for a very long time, he just gave me a reason,” you shrug, dabbing a sponge around your face with your bruised hand, “Although, I would have preferred breaking my hand over listening to Dan and his fucking dad scold me about it.”

“Scold you? For what, standing up for yourself?”

“Dale had to call and convince Mark not to press charges. Plus it caused a scene,” you scoff, “Whatever. Then Dan cut my allowance in half as a punishment. I feel like a fucking child.”

You don’t even want to get into the way that Dan yelled at you after you got home from the party. How he called you a psycho, unhinged, and forbade you from attending parties until further notice.

“What am I, fucking grounded? Like a teenager?”

“If you’re going to act like a teenager, I’m going to treat you like one. You’re fucking insane. Starting a fight with my friend at Greg’s party? I can’t fucking believe you would embarrass me like that. You’re sick, you know that? Always have to make it about you. Everyone was having a good time and you had to make it about you. Selfish bitch. You’re lucky I love you, nobody else could.”

The argument reminded you of fights with your dad. They both have a scathing way of making you feel one inch tall when you fuck up.

“Your allowance?” Javi raises an eyebrow and pushes himself off the doorframe to step closer.

“Yeah, he gives me money for groceries and stuff around the house, whatever is left over is mine to use however I want,” you explain while sifting through your makeup bag for blush.

“Do you have access to money other than that?” he asks, brow furrowed, arms crossed, making eye contact with your reflection in the mirror.

You frown and shake your head, then flip open your blush compact, “I had a bank account when I worked at the school, but we closed it after I quit.”

“And that money is…?”

“In his bank account.”

“How much does he give you in your, uhh, allowance?”

Your heart starts pounding. Why does he care?

“Usually $100 a week. Well, $50 now,” you tell him timidly, frozen with your blush brush against your cheek, “Why?”

“It’s just… odd,” he purses his lips and sets his jaw.

Is he mad that I haven’t been paying for myself on our dates?

“I- I can pay for myself tonight, if you want,” you frown, continuing to apply blush, “I’m sorry for assuming that you’d pay for me, I shouldn’t-“

“No, no, that’s not-“ he sighs and puts a hand on his hip, “I just don’t want him to take advantage of you.”

Your shoulders slump as you try to process this, “I know it’s a lot less than what I was making, but it’s enough to do what I need it to.”

“Sure, but it’s not enough to save money, right?”

You shake your head and pause, thinking about this further, gears turning slowly in your head. It’s always struck you as annoying and micro-managerial, but he told you that he’s just better with finances than you are, so he’ll take care of the money. He kept bringing it up until you eventually agreed to it, convincing you that you don’t spend your money wisely. A knot twists in your stomach as you realize that this might not be normal.

He is trying to trap me, isn’t he?

The nightmare you had last night plays in your head.

You’re entrenched in the void. Can’t see anything. Rope digs into your skin when you try to move, rubbing against lesions that haven’t yet healed, pulling a sharp yelp from your throat. It’s muffled against a gag.

Creak

You shake your head back and forth in a panic. Try to scream out, HELP ME, HE'S HERE, SOMEONE PLEASE- the sound is muffled and your throat is raspy and sore, like you’ve already been screaming for hours. A coughing fit cuts your pleas short, and you gasp for air behind the thick, wet gag stuffed in your mouth. Your blood pressure spikes so fast you get lightheaded.

Creak

He’s close now. Your heart is pounding so hard you can hear it. Get the fuck out get the fuck out. You try to thrash around desperately to no avail.

Creak

Louder. Right beside you. Your eyes clasp shut because you don’t want to see you don’t want to see you don’t want-

Back in real life, Javi calls your name. You flinch away from the sound and realize you’ve been staring at your vanity.

“Are you ok?” he asks, eyes wide.

You shake the dream out of your head, “Yeah, sorry. Just thinking.”

After inspecting yourself in the mirror, you decide you just need some mascara and lipstick and you’ll call it good. He frowns, “I just… I worry about you.”

“I know, baby,” you tell him with your mouth gaping open as you coat your eyelashes with mascara. He sits down on your mattress and continues to watch you. Desperately wanting a subject change, you make eye contact with him through the mirror as you close the mascara tube and put it away, “Do you like my bed?”

“It’s very comfortable,” he observes while pulling his legs up and laying his head on the pillows.

He looks fucking good there, sprawled out so casually. Like this is his bed, not the one you share with your fiancé. You spin around your swivel chair to face him, biting your lip, looking him up and down. He raises an eyebrow at you. Yearning sparkles deep inside you. You drag your seat closer to him, next to your nightstand, then cock your head to the side with a sly smile, “Can I tell you a secret?”

“Of course you can,” he answers, then rolls onto his side and props his head on his hand so he can see you better.

“Where you’re laying right now…” you lick your bottom lip, “I’ve fantasized about you so many times while laying there.”

All of the breath leaves his body. His gaze melts into a smolder. He looks you up and down while rolling his tongue across his lips, “Tell me more.”

A mischievous grin spreads across your face as you open your drawer and take out your vibrator and a bottle of lube. The vibrator is hot pink, curved, and about 7 inches in length. His eyes are burning into you as you handle the toy, “I usually use this to help me.”

“Show me,” he rasps.

You tug at your robe’s sash until it falls open and exposes your naked body, then kick one of your feet up onto the table, letting your legs spread wide open. Something akin to a growl emits from him.

“I want to tell you about the first time though,” you advise, then set the vibrator down in favor of the lube.

“The first time?” he asks, unable to take his eyes off you as you pop the top open, squeeze some into your palm, then set the bottle down.

You rub your hands together and then spread the lubricant all over your tits, teasing each nipple with little tugs and rubs, “The first time I masturbated with you in mind.”

Never in one million years did you think this was something you would tell another soul, let alone the subject of your desire. But the confession is making you so hot, you can’t stop now.

“Y-you remember that?” he lifts his puzzled gaze to your eyes to ask you, “How?”

“Because it was the night I met you,” you tell him, squeezing your tits together. His eyes are on your cunt, watching you get wet. One hand trails down to skirt through your bush, then you spread your lips open so he can get a better look, “I was already so fucking horny, nobody had touched me in months. Then I saw you. I wanted you.”

His eyebrows draw together in an expression that’s almost remorseful. The moment you saw each other for the first time wasn’t magical. It wasn’t cute. He probably doesn’t even remember it. He completely blew off your existence and went home with your roommate. You suspect if he could do it over and go home with you instead, he would. But it doesn’t matter.

“When I got home, I heard you fucking her,” you bring your middle and ring finger to touch your opening, then drag your slick up to start gently massaging your clit, letting a moan fall from your lips. You look up at him and notice how strained he is, specifically in his pants. You purr, “baby, take your clothes off.”

He nods and sits up, unbuttoning his shirt as he listens intently, eyes glued to your pussy as you draw circles around your swollen clit. The shirt comes off, then he starts working on his pants.

“I heard you fucking her and I couldn’t distract myself. It was driving me wild,” you grab the vibrator. Javi lays back down on your bed and squeezes some of the lube in his hand, then starts stroking himself. Clicking the vibrator on, you watch his face as you press the toy to the inside of your lips, whimpering at the change in sensation. The vibrations radiate all the way into your molten core and make your heart pump faster.

You moan as lust fills your body, then start to grind against the toy, confessing to him between whimpers and pants, “I-I touched myself… while listening to you fuck her. I went in my room- and and I fucked myself against the wall.”

The thrill of this repentance, paired with the waves of vibration against your cunt, have you on a different fucking planet. Your mouth falls open as you pleasure yourself in front of him. His cock looks so slick and good and you just want-

“Holy fuck, baby, come here,” he groans and grabs at you the best he can. You jump up so fast, it’s a wonder you don’t collapse on the fucking ground before clamoring on top of him. As soon as you’re straddling him, he bucks up into you. You let gravity take you all the way down, causing both of you release a strangled moan. You start rolling your hips, gasping at the pleasure of his cock filling you just fucking flawlessly on each thrust. The vibrator is still going in your hand, so you press it to your clit.

“I- I made myself cum listening to the two of you- fuck - the other side of the wall, wish- wishing I was her,” you sputter between labored breathes, “Ssso many nights I’ve wished- holy fuck- you were with me while I fucked th-this toy. But it doesn’t compare. N-nothing compares.”

He groans and grabs your face, pulling you in to kiss you with urgency, velvet tongue exploring yours. He draws back to pant against your mouth, “That’s so fucking hot. You’re so- you fuck me so good, babygirl- take me so well.”

“So good, daddy, so goood,” you mewl. He grabs a fistful of your hair and uses it as leverage to expose your throat, where he brushes circles onto your pulse with his tongue. Your mouth falls open and you lose control of your vocal function, sputtering and gasping out guttural noises, letting your body act on impulse, chasing the climax roiling inside you. With your free hand, you grab his shoulder and dig in your finger nails as you ride him faster now.

“You’re fucking incredible, baby, perfect. Sh-should’ve taken you home- I’m a fucking idiot,” he breathes, releasing your hair so both hands can move to your waist and hold you there while he starts slamming up into you faster, babbling now, “Pussy is fucking perfect, n-nothing compares, you’re right, nothing fucking compares-" he pulls you back down to kiss him as his hips stutter and he exhales a shaky moan against your mouth, then he cums inside you.

His praise liquifies and sinks down into the same molten core that’s being fed by his twitching cock, the vibrator, and it brings you over the edge. Your whole body quivers with ecstasy; you cum so hard you literally see stars at the tippy top of the orgasm. You cry out, not giving a single fuck that the neighbors can probably hear you through your open windows.

You collapse on top of him, absolutely glowing as you catch your breath. He hums and groans in satisfaction, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you in for a lazy kiss. Then you roll off and spread out beside him, flushed body covered in sweat. He turns and faces you with a smile, chest heaving, “Was that true?”

Now you finally start blushing and bury your face against his arm before squeaking, “yes.”

“Fuck, that’s hot,” he chuckles, scooping you up from your hiding spot to pull you closer. You rest your head on his chest, then start drawing arbitrarily in his belly with your fingertips. He brings his hand up to play with your hair. And you’re both content to do this… forever, it seems. It’s heaven in this peaceful bubble of affection.

“What time is the movie?” he rumbles into your hair.

From your very snug position nuzzled into his side, you mumble, “5:00. Is it time to go?”

He plants a kiss on your forehead and hums in the affirmative. Reluctantly, you both roll out of bed to get dressed. You slip on a short-sleeved babydoll dress adorned with light pink and lavender flowers. Javier is still buttoning his purple shirt up when you emerge from the closet, and you can’t help but notice the charming smile that spreads across his face.

“What?” you giggle while looking for the right color lipstick.

He saunters up behind you and wraps his arms around your waist, making eye contact with you through the mirror, “I think this is the most color I’ve ever seen on you.”

You spin around and clasp your hands behind his neck, meeting those gorgeous brown eyes that make you melt inside, then blush as you admit, “I wanted to wear it because it matches your shirt.”

His smile widens, flipping your stomach upside down. You get up on the balls of your feet to capture his lips in yours, then arch into him as his tongue sweeps against yours, sending a shiver down your spine. Your bodies fall so easily together like this; everything about being with him is natural. You pull back and meet his gaze again, “Ok I really do think we have to go now.”

“Hey we would be there already if you’d stop distracting me,” he jokes, throwing his hands up defensively.

Despite the “distractions” you make it to the theater with time to spare. After getting pop and popcorn, you start off to find the theater playing Armageddon, when you come across a photo booth. You stop outside of it and ask, “Can we…?”

He raises his eyebrows and smiles at you, “You want to? Sure.”

He snatches the popcorn from you and sets it down next to his pop on top of the machine, then puts a dollar into it. You clap excitedly and climb into the booth. Javi sits down next to you before closing the curtain.

You get the machine going and it starts taking photos as you both smile into the camera. Javi wraps an arm behind you then tickles your side, making you jump and start laughing like a hyena, which in turn makes him laugh.

“You’re the worst,” you grin. He tilts your chin in his direction, leading your mouth to his for a kiss, just something small and sweet at first. His languid tongue rolls against the seam of your lips and you pull on his shirt to bring him against you harder, meeting his tongue with yours. You get lost in him, entranced by the way the two muscles slide against each other, pausing periodically to breathe, then reinvigorating the kiss anew.

He paws at you while your hands roam from his hair all the way down to the top of his thighs, stopping at the fly of his jeans to press down on the bulge in his tight jeans. He groans quietly into your mouth and grabs the inside of your thigh, sending a shudder across your body. You instinctually spread your legs for him to get closer. His thumb starts skimming across the most sensitive part of your body, catching friction on the black lace underwear, making you whimper and arch your back towards him.

A knock comes from outside of the booth and it’s like you’re violently ripped from the lala-land of living with rose colored glasses on, enjoying heavy petting with your boyfriend back into the boring reality land of sitting in a photo booth, now get your shit together, what are you, 16?

You both snap your legs shut and sit up straight, dazed from the whiplash of this teleportation. Javi pulls the curtain back, where a theater employee is staring at the two of you with her arms crossed, not amused at all.

“Hi, so sorry,” you smile sheepishly, entire face heating with embarrassment when you emerge from the booth after Javi.

She sighs and rolls her eyes, “Just… keep it in your pants until you get home, ok, kids?”

“Yes ma’am,” you nod obediently. Javier is finding this all very entertaining, suppressing a boyish grin.

The two of you are so out of it, you start to walk away empty-handed, until she beckons you back, “Y’all at least gonna take your stuff?”

A burst of laughter escapes you while Javi has to double back to grab the pop, popcorn, and photo strip. You snatch the photo strip away from him as soon as he catches up with you. There are four photos on the strip: cheesy smiling, laughing, smiling at each other, hot steamy kissy kiss. It’s very cute and it fills your heart with so much happiness it could burst at the seams.

“Which two are you going to take?” you ask, kicking your feet up on the back of the seat in front of you. The images are still in your clutches as you commit them to memory.

“Can we just take them again and both get one?” he asks after a long contemplative pause.

You raise your eyebrows and gape at him, “I don’t think we’re going to be allowed to go back in there.”

He groans playfully, “First Nico’s, now this? You’re getting me into so much trouble.”

“Oh my god, you started it, Javier,” you pause your bratty attitude to sidebar, “what’s your middle name?”

“Ferdinand”

This… rocks your world for some reason. If you were given infinite guesses, you never would have guessed correctly.

“Shut the fuck up, your middle name is not Ferdinand,” you howl with glee, a little too loudly, earning some side eye from patrons around you. Which… is fair.

He starts laughing, “It is, though,” and leans forward to take out his wallet, where he shows you his driver’s license, which, indeed, states JAVIER FERDINAND PEÑA.

“That’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me,” you smile from ear-to-ear, then clear your throat and resume your scolding, “Anyway, you started it Javier Ferdinand Peña, so don’t tell me I’m getting you into trouble.”

“Whatever you say, cariño,” he winks, then grabs a handful of popcorn and tosses a few kernels in his mouth. After swallowing, he points to the photos and tells you, “I want the bottom two.”

You beam at him and nod, fold the strip in half, then tear the flimsy photo paper in two. He puts his half of the photos in his wallet before returning it to his back pocket; you put yours in your purse.

Armageddon is entertaining. It’s full of clichés and kind of silly, but regardless, the ending makes you cry. You’re right in the middle of hoping that Javier doesn’t notice, when he grabs ahold of your hand, stroking his thumb against yours on occasion until the credits roll.

After the movie, he takes you to the Pour House. You’re grateful that the Wednesday night crowd is light and there aren’t any familiar faces present. Sometimes you forget that he’s your paramour. It doesn’t ever feel like that’s how it should be. You secretly wish he could take Dan’s place.

Javi approaches the bar and orders a whiskey from Gina, who grabs a glass.

“Can I get one, too?” you ask after pondering briefly.

Gina raises her eyebrow, but gets it for you regardless.

“I don’t usually drink straight liquor, except shots when I’m shitfaced, but you do it and it looks cool… so, I want to try,” you explain to Javi, who must think you are an extraordinary dork by now.

This makes him chuckle and shake his head at you in admiration. Gina returns with your drinks. Javi sits across from you in a booth and watches with amusement as you take a sip and grimace, “What the fuck, why do you do this to yourself?”

“Well this whiskey is… not great, first of all,” he takes a long sip, you suspect it’s just to show off, then continues, “But I’m more used to the taste so it’s probably just not as…” he trails off, trying to find the right word.

“Gross?” you offer.

He raises his eyebrows appraisingly and shrugs, confirming your word choice, “Gross.”

“Will you show me what ‘good whiskey’ is, then?” another sip passes through your lips and burns the whole way down into your belly. You gag.

He smiles and nods, “I’d love to.”

After you go back to Gina and ask her to add some ginger ale to your whiskey, she agrees, and barely gives you shit about it. Sliding back into the sticky booth, you ask Javi, “What did you think of Armageddon?”

“I liked it. Kind of cheesy, but fun.”

You agree, nodding, “A little bit predictable. But… obviously it got to me.”

“The romance was grossly cliché,” he admits, then waits for your thoughts. He lights a cigarette and offers one to you, which you accept.

“Why?” you frown.

“So there’s one woman on an oil rig and she just happens to find a soulmate in her dad’s protégé?,” he shrugs, “I just think if there were more women it would be different. Resource scarcity.”

You take a drag, twirling the words around in your brain to figure out how you feel. You sigh, “I don’t know. I mean, I guess there’s no way to know. Maybe it was fate that they both ended up being on the oil rig. If we’re subscribing to the idea of soulmates, we can subscribe to the idea of fate, right? To me, at least, they both sound too much like destiny to be coincidence, ya know?”

He furrows his brow, nodding thoughtfully, then leans forward across the table and swallows hard, “Do you ever feel like it was fate that we met again?”

You’re feeling dangerously open and vulnerable, so you throw caution to the wind and tell him, “I do. I think it was in San Antonio, too. The first- erm, well, second time I talked to you, it was like,” you snap your fingers, “instant. I felt comfortable with you immediately. That doesn’t happen for me with anyone.”

He shifts uncomfortably in his seat and looks down at his drink, “There’s so much bad that came before this. So many bad things I’ve done, things I’ve seen. I don’t know how… my life could lead to anything good. Why would it? That’s unfair for good people. I don’t… I don’t deserve good,” his gaze turns up to meet yours and there’s so much pain in those warm eyes, “But you’re good. You’re so good. And it doesn’t make any fucking sense. That is, unless the universe is chaos.”

These words sit in your head for a minute as you absorb them, trying to understand and formulate a response. You could point out that you're not so good, for a plethora of reasons. However, you understand that you're drawing conclusions about yourselves and each other based on heavy biases. That being said, you cannot comprehend him being anything but wonderful.

Finally, you take a deep breath and say, “I refuse to believe it’s all happenstance. I… I wish you could see how good you are. I don’t think there’s a deity keeping a score sheet of your decisions, tracking their moral judgments on everything you do. Everyone deserves love and belonging. You do, too,” you take a sip of your drink, drag of your cigarette, then continue, “And besides, the bad that you’re talking about… don’t you think you’ve learned from it? You don’t work for the DEA anymore, and you tried your best to rectify the situation when you were still in it, which are pretty big indicators that you did learn from your mistakes. And you’re a better man for it-“

“Yeah, ok,” he scoffs, then juts his jaw and glares at his whiskey, “While I sit here and revel in the fact that I’m a ‘better man’ because I ‘learned a lesson,’ there are people that are fucking dead,” he bites off. You flinch back like he spit in your face.

The words hang in the air for a moment before you react, snipping at him, “Yeah. They’re fucking dead. What can you do about it? Didn’t you already do what you could?” He says nothing, just sulks and signals for Gina to bring more drinks. You stare at him sternly, hard eyes searching his face as he looks around at anything but you, “You can’t do anything else for them, Javier. You don’t need to make yourself fucking miserable for them. Why keep punishing yourself?”

His eyes snap to yours. You just stare at each other and marinade in the wake of this spat, eyes slowly softening as your tempers go from a boil to a simmer. Gina sets your drinks on the table and walks away. Your hand extends across the table to him, then he releases his breath and reaches out to hold it. As your eyebrows knit together, you search his face and tell him earnestly, “You’re not that person anymore. You’re good, I know you are. And you deserve good things.”

He squeezes your hand, neither of you realizing that it’s the injured one until you yelp in pain. Apologies pour out of his mouth as you assure him you’re ok. The two of you sit there for a while, lost in thought, not really paying any attention to the fact that your hands remain intertwined across the table.

You’re zoning out, wondering if maybe there’s something you said that was out of line. Probably. You gave unsolicited advice and dove too hard into aspects of his life you don’t have any right to discuss. And then… he snapped at you. He raised his voice. Is this when he starts to realize he doesn’t want you anymore? When it dawns on him that you’re a fun plaything whose allure has faded? Safe to use temporarily but will attach itself if used too frequently?

I’m catastrophizing. Javi isn’t that kind of a person.

The sound of Javi calling your name pulls you out of your thoughts. You shake your head like an etch-a-sketch, “Sorry, what?”

“I’m sorry for getting upset with you,” he sighs, takes a sip of his drink, and admits, “It’s… it’s difficult for me to find myself deserving. To forgive myself.”

You nod knowingly, “It is hard. I struggle with it all the time.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you say quietly, stomach churning while you try to decide if you should delve into it further.

Is it too much? Am I revealing too much?

“What’s wrong?”

You frown and look down at your free hand, then start picking at your nail polish, “I just… never really know if I’m getting too much into things people don’t want to talk about with me. I don’t know when to stop. Then I go too far, like I just did, past peoples comfort zone and…” you gesture to him, “that happens. Then I sit and ruminate on it for… days. How I shouldn’t have said anything. I should mind my own business. Shut the fuck up,” you scoff at yourself, then sigh, “Anyway, yeah, I know how it feels to not find worth in yourself. How hard it is to forgive yourself. It’s fucking hard . Easier said than done, am I right?”

He nods, mumbling in agreement, “Easier said than done,” then he frowns and looks up at you, “Me blowing up wasn’t about you stepping over a line, cariño. If I don’t want to talk about something, I won’t. And… as someone who has been told to shut the fuck up, I don’t know, hundreds of times,” he chuckles, causing your spirits to lift and a smile to crack across your face, “please don’t shut the fuck up. I want you to feel safe… to be exactly who you are. I adore you.”

I adore you.

“Ok,” your smile widens until it can’t anymore, “Ok, I can do that. You’ll regret it when I talk at you about crows for an hour straight though, I promise.”

He clicks his tongue, “I’m sorry, when you, what now?” he laughs, tilting his head at you with curiosity.

“Like how, for instance, I have crows that visit me every day, and I feed them, so they bring me shiny gifts.” you inform him, rubbing the back of your neck.

“Wh- why do they do that?” he leans in towards you, taking the bait.

You clap excitedly and lean in, too, “Well, see, the thing about crows is…”

[ Next Chapter ]

#javier peña x fem!reader #javier peña x you #javier peña x reader #javier peña x ofc #javier peña #javier pena #javier pena fanfiction #javi pena #narcos fanfiction #narcos fic #javier pena x reader #pedro pascal characters #pedrostories #narcos #pedro pascal #javi peña #javi peña x reader #pedro pascal fanfiction #jdett

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wa-royal-tea · 1 year

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(Transcript under the cut - Click Pics for HQ Version!)

@thebrixtons

Westbrook Island (2:45pm)

Clementine: Lina, can you bring my bag to our room upstairs? I need to help Dira outside for a bit.

Catalina: Yeah, sure. The bag’s not heavy, right?

Clementine: Nope. I didn’t bring a lot so it shouldn’t be heavy.

Catalina: Alright.

Catalina *thinking*: This feels nice. No paparazzis. No cameras...

*door opens and closes*

Catalina: Clem? Is that y—

Nora (CLS): Surprise!

Catalina: *gasps* Nora! Penny! You’re here!

Penelope: Of course we’re here~ We’re not about to miss your wedding now do we?

Catalina: Oh my god, I haven’t seen you guys in so long. I’ve missed you!

Penelope: We’ve missed you too~ Sorry we didn’t come to your engagement party. We were busy.

Catalina: It’s okay. You guys are here now. That’s what matters.

*door opens and closes*

Nora: Lina? Did you call for me?

Catalina: *laughs* Nope. I was talking to my friends here. Come here, I’ll introduce them to you.

Catalina: Nora, these are my friends from high school, Penny, and...Nora.

Nora: Hi. It’s nice to meet you both. My name is Nora too.

Penelope: We need to figure out what to call you both or else we’re going to get confused.

Nora (CLS): *jokingly* How about Nora one and Nora two? I can be Nora one.

Catalina: *chuckles* We’ll figure it out. Come on, I’ll introduce you both to my sister-in-law and cousin-in-law too.

Nora (CLS): Let’s go!

Catalina: Cannonball!

Penelope: Incoming!

Catalina: *laughing* Stop, Clem!

Clementine: Nope! I’m gonna get ‘ya!

Nora: One, two, three!

Ginny: *giggles* Oh no~

Indirah: Is this pose okay?

Ginny: It’s perfect. Now stay still.

Nora:—and then he said they’re going camping for Alfie’s party.

Catalina: Alfie’s going to love that for sure.

Penelope: Say cheese~

Nora & Clementine: Cheese~

Ginny *singing*: ♪ You~ and I~ It's more than 'like'~ ♪

Nora (CLS): ♪ What's after 'like'? ♪

Indirah: Woo! Go Ginny!

Penelope: Wow Nora~ I never knew you could sing.

Clementine: Lina? Why are you here? Didn’t you say you want to join us singing?

Catalina: Hm? Oh, I’m just...trying to clear my head.

Clementine: Are you okay?

Catalina: Yeah, I’m fine.

Clementine: Come on, Lina. I wasn’t born yesterday. I know you’re not fine. I can see it on your face.

Catalina: I should wear a mask next time. You know me too well.

Clementine: *scoffs* That won’t stop me from knowing something’s wrong with you. You’re still down from the backlash, aren’t you?

Clementine: Look, you’ve tried your best for the tour and that’s what matters the most. This is just a little hiccup. People will forget about it in a week or two like they always do.

Catalina: I don’t know about that, Clem. I talked about papa’s dad at a veteran’s banquet. That’s like me spitting on their faces.

Clementine:...

Catalina: *sighs* I’ve failed everyone. How can I be a Crown Princess when I can’t even do my job right?

Clementine: You’re still learning so you’re gonna make mistakes. Remember what mama always says? “Our greatest glory is not in never falling—”

Catalina: “—but in rising every time we fall.”

Clementine: Exactly.

Catalina: You sound like mama now. You’re even quoting Confucius.

Clementine: *scoffs* Don’t be a meanie. I had my fair share of mistakes and public embarrassments too, but that doesn’t make me a failure.

Catalina: Hmm, sure~ Whatever you say~

Clementine: How many times do I need to tell you? You’re not a failure, you just have a lot to learn.

Clementine: You’re lucky that the people around you are very supportive of you. Especially Alfie. He worries about you.

Catalina: *scoffs* He definitely does. He won’t stop assuring me that I’m doing fine and this is just a “little hiccup” like you said.

Clementine: I’m guessing you don’t like him saying that.

Catalina: It’s not that I don’t like it. I really appreciate him being supportive and everything. But it’s not helping, y’know?

Clementine: What do you mean?

Catalina: I feel like he’s treating me like a baby. Always having to tell me that whatever I’m doing is right no matter what. I don’t like it. I want him to tell me I’m wrong when I screw up and not sugarcoat it.

Clementine: But would you really like it if he’s being completely honest with you? You know how he is when he doesn’t sugarcoat things. Can you handle that?

Catalina:...

Clementine: You have something else in your mind, don’t you?

Catalina:...yeah.

Clementine: Spill. Now.

Catalina: *nervously* I-I’ve been getting letters. From the “G” person.

Clementine: The “G” person? The one that sent us the cake the other day? What did they wrote to you?

Catalina: They keep on telling me I’m making a mistake with Alfie and that he’ll never accept me if he knows the truth. I ignored it because I thought it was just a prank from a hater but...

Clementine: But what?

Catalina: But lately, it’s telling me that I’m useless and that I’m bound to screw up and people will see the truth about me. I’ve tried to ignore it but...I’m starting to believe it.

Clementine: Why didn’t you tell us this?

Catalina: I don’t want to worry you. Mama is already busy with the wedding planning, and you also have to go back and forth to Great Brixton for your duties. I-I just don’t want to be a burden to anyone.

Clementine: You haven’t told Alfie either?

Catalina: No. I’m scared to tell him.

Clementine: Lina...you’re keeping secrets from him again. You know what happened the last time you did that.

Catalina: I know! I just—I’m scared, Clem. What if he changes his mind after reading those letters?

Clementine: You know him better than that. You know he’d want you be the one to tell him about this. He’s going to be livid if he finds out from someone else.

Catalina: I...I’m scared. I don’t want what happened back then to happen again.

Clementine: Seriously, Lina?! Then you need to tell him! You told me yourself Alfie’s a lot more mature than he was back then. He won’t be mad if you’re the one that tells him!

Clementine: I promise you. He’s going to be fine with this. Even if he goes batshit, I’ll tell papa and he’ll deal with him. I got you, okay?

Catalina: Papa’s going to beat his ass if he tries to hurt me again.

Clementine: Definitely.

Clementine: Come on. Let’s get inside, the girls are probably looking for us now. We’re here to have fun, remember?

Catalina: *chuckles* Okay. The last one to get inside is a rotten egg!

Clementine: *laughs* We’ll see who’s the rotten egg!

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usetheeauthor · 2 years

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Let Me Show You (Fluff/Smut)

Insecure!Sub!Virgin!Murray Bauman x SoftDom!Fem!Reader

A/N: This fic is inspired by Radiohead’s “Creep”. One of my favorite songs ❤️ Enjoy!

Summary: It’s been 4 months, since you and Murray made it official. He wants to lose his virginity to you but he’s constantly insecure about about what you think of him. You show him just how much he means to you.

Word Count: 3.5k+

Warnings: graphic language, age gap (Murray 40s, Reader mid 20s), kissing, insecurities, oral (m & f receiving), riding, mirror sex, unprotected p in v sex, creampie, handjob, neck kisses, body worship, cum eating, light scratching, light biting, light choking, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, dirty talk, praise kink, crying during sex, aftercare

“You're just like an angel

Your skin makes me cry

You float like a feather

In a beautiful world

I wish I was special

You're so fuckin' special”

Murray can’t help but compare the two of you when you’re together in public. He was sure that when people saw the two of you together that they’re all wondering why you’re with him.

When you were alone with him, it was different. It didn’t matter the difference in age or what points of life you were going through, you both had a relationship that transcended beyond any of those differences.

Yet, he can’t help but feel inadequate when he sees himself in the reflection standing next to you while you were getting ready for an outing with your friends.

He never imagined that he’d be so lucky to have you yet here you were by his side. He could feel his insecurities creeping in again like they always do whenever you went out. Sure, he loved when you dressed up only to come home to be his. But he can’t help but feel a bit nervous whenever you leave knowing they’ll be men, possibly better looking, hitting on you.

He’s never made the move to do anything passed kissing in previous relationships because of these feelings of inadequacy which have led to most of them failing. Now that he’s with you, he can’t see himself letting you go. He wanted to finally have that moment with you but couldn’t bring himself to say anything.

You were applying makeup when you noticed Murray frowning at his reflection. He stood there shirtless wearing only his pajama bottoms, rotating around in the wide mirror and checking himself. You could tell there was something wrong with him. He’s usually never this quiet.

“Hey, is everything okay?” You ask, softly.

He blinks a few times, turning to face you. “Oh yeah. I’m great,” He swipes a hand in the air as if he’s telling you to forget about it. “You look lovely as always.”

You smile. “Thank you. You know, you were invited, too. I would’ve liked it if you did. We could’ve gossiped to each other at the end of the night. My frenemy from high school will be there. I’m sure she’ll be so posh.” You rolled your eyes, now applying your earrings.

“I wish I could but I’m not feeling well.”

“I’ve noticed that. You’re barely spoken. That’s unlike you,” You poke fun. “Is something wrong? Would you like for me to stay with you instead? I can reschedule another time to hang—”

“No, no. Enjoy your night. You can tell me all the stories about your pretentious friend when you get back.”

“Frenemy,” You correct. “I don’t think she has the privilege to be called a friend yet.”

You wrap your arms around Murray’s neck and pull him in for a kiss. His lips against your feel almost timid and he awkwardly stands in a way that keeps a small distance between your bodies. You trail a hand down his soft, round belly then down to the waistband of his pajama pants, pulling him against you. This doesn’t warm him up to you, his body taut pressed into yours.

You pull away. “Murray, are you sure everything’s okay?”

He nods, placing a kiss on your forehead. He attempts to exit to the bedroom but your hand wraps around his wrist, keeping him from leaving. He’s confused, opening his mouth to say something. You cut off any chance of protest, pushing him forward in front of the mirror.

You stand behind him, your heels adding to your height making it easier to access his neck with your mouth. You placed wet, opened mouth kisses on his back and in the crook of his neck. He tried to keep himself from making any sounds, biting his lip. But when he felt your hands roaming up and down the front of his body, your long manicured nails scratching lightly, he lets out a small moan that spurs you on.

“That feel good, hun?” You ask, peppering kisses on his shoulder.

“Feels wonderful. Thank you.” His eyes flutter close, when he feels your red nails now lightly scratching down his arm and feeling the tiny goosebumps rising.

“Anything for you, baby. I love making you feel good. I can’t wait for the day you let me have you,” You lower your hands to his pants once again, gripping his thick hard cock through the loose fabric. “I’ll make sure I make you feel really fucking good then, too.”

You bite down on his earlobe in time with squeezing his cock and he swore he’d nearly came from that alone. Taking his hand in yours, sliding his hand down his body from the hairs of his chest down to his belly, wanting him to feel for himself. You slipped both your hands in his pajamas.

“I want you to watch. Open your eyes for me baby.” You kissed then sink your teeth his shoulder, eliciting a soft high-pitched whimper.

He opens them, looking at your reflection through hooded eyes. Your eyes meet in the mirror, staring intensely while you guided his hand to wrap around his heavy member. Removing your hand for a moment, you pull down his bottoms slightly. Then, your hand returns over his.

“Show me how to get you off? I wanna see what you look like when you cum. Please, baby. If you don’t want this, I’ll stop and we could forget this happened.”

He shakes his head, speaking in short phrases. “Don’t want to forget. Just want you. Wanted you for so long.”

“Have you ever touched yourself before?”

“Yes.” He groans when he feels your hand using his to glide up and down his cock.

“Do you think of me when you do it?”

“Yes, almost every night. I wanted you so bad. I couldn’t say anything.”

When you felt that he would carry on jerking himself off on his own, you moved your hand even lower, fondling his balls. He gasps, squeezing his hand harder around himself.

“Why couldn’t you say anything, baby? I want you just as bad. If not, more.” You squeezed tighter around his testicles each time you noticed him glide over the sensitive mushroom tip.

“You’re just so perfect. I’m not the right guy for you. I just don’t look the part. But I can’t lose you either.”

“You couldn’t possibly lose me. You’re so damn perfect the way you are. I love you and I can’t see myself without you. The truth is…I’ve also touched myself thinking of you every. single. night. I wanted to bring up taking things to the next level but I didn’t want to pressure you. But, god, you don’t know how many times I’ve been close to begging for just a little taste,” You bite his shoulder again, adding more pressure to his balls. “I want you to cum so bad. Let me show you how much I need you.”

You place a hand on the thick tip while he worked his base until a eventually his hands were on top of yours, showing you how to milk him the way he likes. The sounds of heavy breathing from both your mouths consume the atmosphere. Your free hand digs your nails into his side. He gasps. Then, you traced a finger around his areola.

“This feels so, so good but I don’t wanna come yet. I want to do that with you. To lose my virginity to you.” He admits.

“I’d be honored to be your first, hun. I wanna rock your world.”

“If I’m being honest, you’ve already accomplished that.”

“I will be calling off those plans. I want to take explore every inch of you tonight and commit you to memory. Let’s move this to the bedroom. ‘Kay, baby?”

You take his hand, not even bothering to give him the chance to pull up his pants as you push down on his shoulders and sit him on the edge of the bed.

You get on your hands and knees and immediately shove his cock down your throat with no warning to him. He groans super loud, fingers gripping the sheets and shifting them out of place.

You bob your head back and forth, savoring the salty, earthy taste of him. His thickness of his cock causing you to gag around him. You champion through it wanting to satisfy him. You let him hit the back of your throat and one hand flies to the back of your head, tugging you hair to stop you.

“No. Please. I won’t last.” He knows he sounds pathetic right now, pleading and whining.

You egg on his moans; teasing, sucking, grazing your teeth over his shaft. You look up at him, siren eyes boring into his lust-driven stare. His mouth open, slacked.

“You’re gonna cum for me. You’ll be coming for me as many times as I want today.”

You slurp all the saliva on his cock, holding it in your mouth to spit on top of his dick again. She suckles onto the sensitive head of the penis; tongue swiping left to right on the underside while one hand tugs up and down at the base. Murray had never seen such a scandalous sight. He’d dreamed of nights where you would be between his legs but none of those fantasies compare to what he witnessed and experienced now. Seeing you so starved to swallow his cock while doing such filthy things, brought him to an orgasm he didn’t expect to arrive so suddenly.

“Oh shit. Oh fuck. Y/N!” Even with his glasses on, his vision grows fuzzy. He comes so hard that he shuddering as if it were 2 degrees inside your apartment. You don’t let up once he writhes, drinking him for all he’s worthy. The salty taste of him has you addicted and your like a wild woman seeking every last drop of his essence.

He whines, feeling tears prick the corners of his eyes at the sensitivity of your mouth on him. When you finally pull off him, he’s lying on his back against the mattress and his arms spread out.

“I didn’t kill you, did I?” You laugh.

He’s breathing hard. “Nah——Well, maybe a little.”

“Sorry, got carried away. You just taste so damn intoxicating. I nearly sucked you dry.”

“Oh, I noticed.” He says, letting out a breathy laugh.

You pull off your dress and underwear off, still in your heels. You slide a foot up and down from his foot to his inner thigh, the heel scraping softly on the skin. He’s still sensitive to touch, wriggling each time you moved back up to his inner thighs.

“I’d fuck you with my heels on but…I’d rather not. At least not for tonight. If I’m gonna give you the ride of your life, I don’t want anything holding me back.” You kicked them off, staring at his exhausted frame sprawled out on the bed.

“I want you on my tongue. Please ride my face. I bet you’ll taste so sweet.” Murray begs, looking down between your legs to watch the pearls of wetness trickling down them.

You moaned. You’ve never been this wet for anyone before. He hasn’t done anything to you yet and already you were in heat.

You climbed over him, kissing up his body. You lick at his happy before dipping your tongue in his navel, swirling your tongue around. Then, resume to kiss his belly.

“So beautiful” You whispered against his skin.

Finally, your lips found his once again in a frenzied kiss. This time he was no longer restraining himself, kissing you back with a hunger that left you grinding your sloppy pussy against his dick. He groans into the kiss slipping his fat tongue into your mouth for you to suck on. Your creamy release coating along his length and stomach as you continue to grind hard against him.

He pulls away from the kiss and lets out a whine against your lips.“Let me taste you please.” He sounds as if he could cry.

“Cum for me first.” You bit your lip when you heard the sticky, wet sounds of your pussy moving over the head of his penis. Every now and then his dick would prod at your entrance whenever your hole settle just right about the tip.

“Love, this feels incredible but I’m not sure if I can go again. I’m no spring chicken. It’ll be a while.”

“Take the time you need, baby. I just need you to cum so that you to taste how good you and I taste mixed together because the third time you’ll cum, it’ll be deep and hard inside of me.”

“Holy shit. Please don’t talk like that.” He feels his grip on reality loosening and he’s afraid that if you continue to talk like that, he’ll never come out the same again. He’ll be giving you what you want a lot sooner.

“Why, baby, are you gonna cum again?”

“Y-yes.” His voice wavering, tears flowing down his face from the overstimulation.

“Then do it, Murray. Make me sticky with your cum.” You swipe your cunt over and over on him and he comes once again, crying out into the air and back arching of the bed. He grips your thighs for support as you continue to slide back and forth, milking some more. His grip tightens on your thighs and you were sure there’d be bruises there in the morning but it was worth it.

When you lift off of him, your pussy messy with a mixture of your fluids. You climb over his face, hovering over it. You gently run your fingers lightly over the balding top of his head. He looks up at you lovingly as if he’s never experienced this kind of tenderness. Soon that gentleness turns into rough play, when you tangle your fingers in his hair and yanked; his head coming up off the mattress a little. You removed his glasses, tossing it to the side.

“Stick your tongue out.” Your voice is heavy with lust as straining yourself from a whimper.

He obeys, sticking out his deliciously long, fat tongue. You shuddered at the sight of him. He looked so innocent; eyes staring up at you in submission and tongue out like such a good boy.

Murray was a talker and somedays you’d find yourself staring at his mouth as he rambled away. You knew for sure that he was talented with it just by your conversations. He’s going to wreck you and you happily accepted this fate.

You tug on his curls once more pulling his mouth closer between your legs. Rocking back and forth against his tongue, you bring one hand to your nipples and pinched.

“Oh god, you’re so good for me. Letting me use your tongue to get off. You’re amazing, baby. Fuck.” You mewled, face contorted like you were both in pain and pleasure.

You feel his lips close around your clit. You began to sob at the feeling of his beard against your slick core, crying out wherever he’d moved his head and tongue up and down your pussy to collect all your juices.

“So good. Love the taste of us, my goddess.” He says in between kisses on your pussy lips then sucking each lip to gather the cum that coated them.

He wraps his arms around your thighs bringing you down your full weight onto his mouth. He dips his tongue into your tight entrance and you gasp at the sudden action. His spongy, thick appendage fucks in and out your wet hole and you grind down on him.

Murray takes a hand to softly rake down your body as he fucks you on his tongue. You were close, rubbing your clit so that you can reach for the light behind your vision. Murray spots you doing this, sucking harder on your quivering flesh.

Then you’d finally touched the light, your vision going white. You scream so loud that it surprised yourself. Your release washes over Murray, wetting his lip and beard. You grind against him as he continued to nurse you through your orgasm.

When you lifted off his face, Murray could see your cunt pulsating from its awakening.

“Shit. I nearly passed out from that.” You giggled, sliding back down so that your pussy rested on his erection once more.

“I want to be inside you so bad it hurts.”

“I’ll get rid of that pain for you, love.”

Holding his cock steady, you place yourself over the big tip and slowly sunk down. You both let out a groan. You’d gone down only a quarter of his length. Although, you were slick and wet, it was still a tight squeeze.

Murray felt his patience run thin, slamming the rest of his length into you and bottoming out. Your breath is knock out of you.

“Fuck. You’re so huge, Murray.”

“Sorry, you just felt so warm and tight. I needed you around me.” His hands are on your sides, hips snapping up into yours and watching your breasts bounce from the force. His thrusts are desperate and deep. You toes curl and your could feel each impact causing you to gush all over him.

The sounds of squelching and the bed squeaking under you filling the room. You had to take the reigns or this would end soon and you wanted to spend every moment savoring this.

You yank his hands away from you, lifting up so that only the tip remained inside before you dropped down hard on him.

“God!” He cries out.

Murray was convinced that this had been a dream. It was too amazing of a feeling being inside you for it to be real. The way you consumed his cock into your tight, hot pussy and clenched around him as if you refused him from ever displacing himself. It was too good to be true. Then, your lips found his and he’s grateful to know that this was better than a dream.

Your tongues mingled with one another’s, fighting for dominance as you continued to slam hard against him. When you pulled away, you looked up and down at him. Memorizing his fuck out expression, his body hair clinging to his skin from sweat, the sweet little sounds that escaped his lips. If you had a camera, you’d photograph him and frame it for you to look at whenever you were apart.

“Goddamn, baby, you just don’t understand how fucking sexy you are to me,” You scratch down his chest and belly before wrapping a hand around his neck, grasping it tightly. “You were going to continue to keep this from me. I’ve ached and ached and ached for you.” You punctuate the word “ache” with timed thrusts against him.

“Baby, I’m sorry.” He cries out voice strained from your hand around around his throat. He attempts to stop you from grinding mercilessly against him, failing when you intertwined your fingers around his, pinning them by his head against the mattress.

“Prove to me your sorry,” You growled from above him. “Cum really fucking hard. I want to paint your cum deep within me.”

Your mouth attacks his neck, hands still pinned down so he’s force to lay there and take it. Your clit rubs deliciously against his belly and you can feel yourself really fucking close. You feel his heavy balls tighten against your ass, with each powerful upward thrust into your hot cave.

“Gonna cum.” He says, mouth open and eyes glossed over.

“Yes, baby. Cum for me. I wanna feel—” He slams hard against your g-pot and your the one that comes first, squirting your liquid release and wetting everything in its path.

You clenching and unclenching around him sends him into his third orgasm for the night. It’s borderline painful. He’s in overload as he comes deep. Your hips going over his body in a staccato rhythm from the intensity.

You release his hands allowing you to hold your sweaty bodies against the other while your high continued to persist then eventually dissipated.

Your mouths are close swallowing down each other’s gasps staring at each other like you’d just experienced something so life changing. And it certainly was.

Rolling off of him, you cuddled to his side, sticky with both of your release and sweat.

“How was that?” You asked, giggling from the euphoric high.

He chuckles clearly experiencing the same effect. He tries to speak but there are no words only hand gestures accompanied his mouthing words.

“I see I’ve rendered you speechless.” You press a kiss to his cheek.

“Oh yeah.” He sighs.

You get up from the bed, heading back to the bathroom to grab a warm towel. You’d focus on cleaning yourself up later. You swipe the rag between his legs and on his cock cleaning the evidence of your activity.

You caress his head, placing a kiss as directly on the bald spot. “Don’t ever forget that you how beautiful you are. If you do, I’ll just have to show you again.”

He looks up with a smirk. “I think I forgot again.”

You laugh. He was so silly but that was one of the many reasons you loved him. “I love you, Murray.”

“I love you, Y/N.”

Murray couldn’t have asked for a better woman in his life to give himself so vulnerability to. You really were an angel.

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smalltownfae · 2 months

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Fun asks ahoy ✨

1, 4, 6, 8, 9, 11:D

Thank you for the asks. I will do like you and put it under read more since this definitely will end up being too long.

what are 3 things you’d say shaped you into who you are?

Preschool: There were so many creative activities in preschool and because it made me try so many things it made me discover my love for art and writing, especially. When I started the first year of school I got a library card which also made me discover a love for reading. Attending preschool also gave me the tools needed to tolerate others and learn to cooperate even with someone I don't like. It also gave me a little trauma, but that is not something for the public...

Cosplay Events: My teenage years were definitely the most awful years of my life until I was 16. At that age things got a little better because I finally met someone that made me aware that other people that liked anime and manga existed and there were even events where they dressed up as the characters and made art about it and everything. It seems odd nowadays because it seems to be a popular thing now, but there were very few events in my country and most of them were free at the time. It was just a way for all the nerds to get together and have fun and that's what I did too. People think they want to be unique, but I don't think anyone that was actually outside of the norm at one point wishes for that. I was lucky enough to have had one friend that shared my tastes since primary school, but being considered weird was still extremelly lonely. Not that I wished to be like everyone else around me, but I wanted to be liked. Living in a small town full of people with retrogade ideas while growing up was hell. Being able to go to the capital city often and making friends saved me from growing up bitter. I was so happy to find out that people like me existed. They just happened to be in a different city. Another thing we all seemed to have in common was the bullying we suffered in our schools so going to cosplay events and meetups was our safe space. At this time I was also on DeviantArt participating in manga events and meeting other artists. Knowing that I wasn't alone in my weirdness gave me hope for the future.

My first trip outside my country: In your answer you said you wanted the perspective of someone that never moved places so I can tell you that it made me very careful and fearful of many things. I am not the kind to take many risks (unless I am on a weird day because I swear that sometimes I am possessed by something that would rather die than be bored) and I need some sense of security and that can be provided by a place or a person. On my first trip outside my country I was so nervous because I had never gotten into an airplane and I went alone. I went to stay with a friend that moved to London and we were supposed to hang out all the time when I got there. However, I spent most of my visit alone since my friend didn't got the vacation for those days. I would like to thank my best friend google maps and the amazing transportation of London. Portugal wishes it had transports that efficient. I had to get by on my own and even though I felt lonely at times I was still happy to explore a new place and I even talked briefly with a few strangers. I still got to hang out with my friend when she got out of work at the end of every day. This made me a little more independent and also gave me a love for travel even though I found London a bit disappointing (my expectations were too high). It also showed me that when left alone I didn't know how to feed myself. Now, I plan those things much better because let me tell you that my stomach on that trip wasn't happy about the crap I was eating at lunch everyday.

4. what’s an inside joke you have with your family or friends?

I am sure we have some, but I remember nothing at the moment, sorry. It's usually some portuguese meme that we parrot around.

6. what’s the best and worst part of being online/a creator?

As a creator that seldom creates, this is really hard to answer. I guess the best part is finding other creators that love something as much as I do and also to find people that appreciate what I do. The worst part would be negative comments and harassment, but I don't usually get those so... oh, having no reaction to what I post can hurt sometimes too, but I create mostly for myself and I am aware that the things I love aren't that popular in the great scheme of things to begin with.

8. any reacquiring dreams?

No. I seldom dream. When I remember my dreams they are usually weird and nightmarish like the fans on the floor that were cutting everyone's legs. I think I dreamed that I was falling from the sky at least twice in my entire life though because I remember once actually falling from the bed and another time when I woke up breathing heavily and grabing the corners of my bed.

9. tell a story about your childhood

One of the childhood moments I remeber the best is when I went to the beach with my parents and some of my family when I was really young. I don't remember my exact age, but I wasn't in school yet so probably 4 or something. One of my older cousins told me to go fetch water so we could build a sand castle and sent me on my way with my little bucket and nothing else because it was supposed to be a short trip. Turns out my sense of orientation has sucked since birth so I got to the water and filled my bucket, but somehow failed to find the way back to the towels where everyone was. I remember walking for what it felt like hours without a hat or shoes and at one point the sand started to burn because it does that around midday, when it's too hot in the summer. I remember that at one point I just splashed the water from my little bucket on my feet because I was in pain, but I never stopped walking even though I was crying and who knows where I was going. A nice couple found me and I remember the man held me in his arms and that's when my feet felt some sort of relief. Then they went looking for my parents and they found them eventually since my parents and the rest of my family were also looking for me. My mom has at least one more story of me getting lost as a kid, but this is the one I remember and the one I was lost for a long time.

11. what do you consider to be romance?

Damn, I just posted a quote from the Buried Giant about something similar hahaha Romantic love is very hard for me to define. When I was a teenager I thought I had it figured out because that was what most people seem to consider romantic love. The first person I ever liked wasn't only physically attractive, but was also my friend. That is what I would consider the whole package haha I would talk to them everyday and wonder what they were doing all the time and I would feel jealous if they liked someone or got with someone. Looking back it looks more like an obsession than love. I once had a friend that was in love with me and told me I had never been in love. It could be the butthurt of rejection talking, but maybe he was right. I honestly have no idea if I have ever been in love because I can't really define it. Right now I am in a weird situation. I am not really dating, but I have something (let's call it that). I don't feel jealous of other people that hang out with this person nor do I feel the need to talk to them or see them all the time, but it still feels nice when we are together.

Honestly, there are a billion definitions of romance and different people would provide different answers. All of this to say that I have no idea of what my own definition is and maybe I will never know. I decided to let things happen since I have bigger troubles than romance at the moment. That is another thing. What people usually call romance is also associated to stressful things to me. It's probably because of the examples I have had growing up. People are always afraid of being cheated on or jealous if their partner hangs out with others and such. Honestly, it looks way too troublesome for me to deal with so I do not want it to be like that and I also want to mantain some of my freedom.

#fun asks #andy answers #damn this was too long and I am not sure I was coherent #I am too lazy to reread so I apologize for that #I talk and talk and talk and say nothing meaningful haha

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