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mkkk12345 · 2 years ago

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Divus Crewel x Wife Reader

He forgot something at home headcanon/fic

I had an idea lmao

A few details to note before the fic, Reader is Crewel's wife and assistant for his fashion-related work (my personal headcanon please I need this) so reader usually stays at home or goes out to get things organized or checked on for Crewel.

Divus is not the kind of person who would usually forgets anything at home, but this morning he was in a rush

That night he had stayed up later than usual to finish grading papers

In fact, he stayed up so late you had to pull him out of his office and into bed so he could actually get some rest before another day of headaches from his students (and Crowley)

Unfortunately that morning his alarm clock had run out of batteries

You had woken up before him wondering why he was still in bed and not getting ready for work so you woke him up

In a panic, he quickly thanked you with a kiss told you to go back to sleep, and rushed to get ready and get to work

You of course decided to not go back to sleep and instead helped him out by getting his bag out of his office and making him coffee as he was putting on makeup

And with another quick thank you and a kiss, he was out the door

Luckily today was a nice and slow day for you, so you luckily got to start without such a rush

it was around 10 o'clock when you got a call from your husband informing you that he had forgotten to put all those newly graded papers in his bag last night

"If you have time could you bring those over to school for me?" he asked as he rubbed his temples in frustration

"Of course what kind of assistant would I be if I didn't" You laughed as he sighed

"You'll have to come to my classroom, I really don't have enough time to meet you at the front gates today. Sorry about that."

Well today was going to be more exciting than you thought

After quickly throwing together a nice outfit you grabbed the papers put them in a folder and made your way to school

Driving up the road to NRC was stressful you really didn't know how Divius did it every day

You parked your car outside the gates and quickly speed-walked to your husband's classroom using the instructions he had given to you over the phone

As you approach his classroom you could hear the chatter of students inside, ‘was class already over? Looks like I made it just in time’. You knocked on the door and poked your head inside all eyes were on you as the chatter suddenly dimmed.

“Is now a good time?” you asked as you opened the door a little wider so you could gesture to the folder in your hand

“Oh perfect timing dear I was just about to dismiss these pups for lunch, well then pups it looks like you will be getting your grades back today after all.” You quickly made your way inside and over to his desk handing the folder to him “Wait here a moment we can get lunch together once I dismiss them.” he smiled at you.

As you waited you noticed how messy his desk was, he must have been stressed, you thought as you decided to organize it for him. “Once you receive your grade you may be dismissed, if you have any questions regarding your grade you may ask me, just make it quick. Homework is due tomorrow before class” he spoke with a stern voice over the chatter, clearly glaring at some students

As the students slowly filed out you could feel their questioning glances at you, hearing questions like

Who is that? I’ve never seen her around school before.

Does prof have a girlfriend???

Do ya think I got a chance with her?

That last one seemed to annoy Divis quite a bit.

After all the questions had been asked and quickly answered he quickly made his way back over to you slumping back into his chair with a sigh “Sorry for the inconvenience dear I hope you weren't too busy today,” he said as he leaned his head to the side onto you.

You laughed softly as your hand moved to stroke his hair “Dont worry Divius my only appointment is later this afternoon, you aren't interrupting anything.”

he sighed slowly getting up and taking his coat off and draping it across your shoulders, “It’s cold here take this for the time being I dont need my lovely reliable assistant and wife getting sick now do I.” he looked over at you with a smirk.

“Yes yes keep flattering me, I'm the best aren't I” you said holding in a laugh “Divius you’ve had nothing to eat all day you must be hungry let's get you something to eat shall we?” you looked over him with concern.

“You are not wrong there, let me lead you to the cafeteria the food is surprisingly good.” he chuckled as he offered his arm to you with a smile.

As the two of you made your way out of the classroom you took note of the three students and a cat that stood chatting conveniently close to the entrance of the classroom looking over at the two of you ever so stealthily. “They are going to be a problem tomorrow.” your husband sighs as you laugh leaning into his side.

BONUS

“Who tf was that????” Ace whisper shouted at the prefect as they headed to the cafeteria. “How stupid are you did you not hear him clearly say ‘assistant and wife’?” Deuce whisper shouted back. “I didn't know he was married. How long has he been married???” Grimm said borderline shouting directly into the prefect's ear. “Who cares about that, she looks like a model! How did he snag her? And you didn’t answer my question earlier, ya think I got a chance with her?” the prefect rolled their eyes at Ace as they thought ‘I need to go apologie to Professor Crewel later.’

#divus crewel #crewel x reader #twst x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #twisted wonderland headcanons #twisted wonderland #twst #divus crewel x reader

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steventhusiast · 1 year ago

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STWG prompt 11/2/24

prompt: date night

pairing/character(s): steddie, hellfire club

it's valentine's week!! hopefully i can do all the prompts this week :)

"And with that, the barkeep..."

Eddie pauses in his storytelling to glance away from the notes hidden by his DM screen and over to the clock. His eyes widen at the time. Is it really 7:53pm already? Shit.

"With that, this session is over. You'll find out what happens with the angry barkeep next week!"

Everyone in the room groans at that, a chorus of 'seriously's and 'what the hell, Eddie's starting up even as he hurries to put his notes back into his DnD folder, and dumps all his dice into his bag haphazardly.

No one seems to notice for a moment, too busy complaining about the cliffhanger, when Gareth suddenly pauses and examines Eddie with a curious look on his face.

"Hold on, you promised we'd finally find out more about the temple this session? Where was that?"

Eddie huffs in response, and doesn't even look up as he starts folding his DM screen.

"Yeah, that was before you guys decided to talk to every single person at the tavern for an hour and start a barfight."

"That's never stopped you from getting us to where you want us before!"

"Yeah!" "Exactly!" "Please, Eddie. What happens with the barkeep."

Eddie waves a hand at everyone, and looks up to see the younger kids complaining quietly to each other, and his closer friends still seeming to inspect him carefully. He supposes they're valid in that; he's not one to back down from his plans, and has never cut off a session like this before.

But. Today is special. Today he has...

"Oh my god, you have a date." Jeff suddenly says, his eyes a little wider than usual as he grabs at Freak's arm.

"What?! Who the fuck would he have a date with?" Freak scoffs.

Eddie ignores the blush fighting to appear on his cheeks and starts collecting all of his figurines scattered around the table.

"Eddie has a date?" Mike suddenly joins in from across the room.

And, great, now the baby sheep are involved too.

"It is none of you guys's business what plans I have after this session. But, really, I gotta go." Eddie tries, but now Dustin's attention is on him as well.

"That's so funny! Steve has a date tonight too- that's why we had to ask Nancy to pick us up tonight." He says with a laugh.

Eddie laughs along with him, a little strained now because Gareth, Jeff and Freak are now squinting at him.

"Yes.. What a coincidence." Gareth says slowly as Eddie continues to pointedly avoid eye contact.

"Anyway! Got a lot to, uh. Do. Running a bit behind schedule actually, so if you could.." Eddie says as he finally finishes shoving everything back into his backpack and throws it over his shoulder, gesturing toward the drama room's door.

The younger kids leave without much complaint, but Gareth, Jeff and Freak hang back and walk slowly alongside Eddie.

"So... Steve Harrington?" Jeff asks once the kids are out of earshot, his tone a little disbelieving.

"Don't say it like it's a bad thing!" Freak slaps him on the shoulder disapprovingly as he speaks.

"It's not a bad thing! Just.. unexpected!"

"I have no idea what you're talking about." Eddie tries.

"Sure, sure. Enjoy your totally not a date night that's totally not with Steve 'the hair' Harrington." As Gareth says that, they've finally reached the doors and Eddie can well and truly escape.

He's going to have to break a few road laws if he wants to get to Steve's on time. It's only their third date, so sue him if he wants to try to make a good impression.

Even if Steve's been his friend for a few months now, and already knows about his horrible time-keeping skills.... It's still worth a try. Anything to woo Steve Harrington.

part two

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie ficlet #steddie drabble #stwgdailyprompt #dailydrabble #mywriting

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strvngeweather · 1 year ago

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It's All Greek to Me; a one shot.

🕮 PAIRING: collegetutor!jimin x partygirl!reader 🕮 GENRE: College AU, smut 🕮 WORD COUNT: 4.8k 🕮 WARNINGS: Smut, Smut, Smut 🕮 SUMMARY: After failing your college classes, you need a tutor. But if tutor, why so damn hot? 🕮 AUTHOR'S NOTE: This was originally going to be a full-length fanfic, but I decided to make it a short one. I still may expand on it. Let me know what you guys think. Also, my bestie gave me the idea when she said, "Jimin look like he likes ass." LMAO.

Despite your hatred for hangovers, you always ended up with one.

Today was no exception. As the resident party girl at Loren University, there was no way you would ever miss a weekend rager, but as your alarm clock went off for the fifth time that morning, you began cursing at yourself. Maybe going to a party on a Sunday night wasn’t a good idea.

Scheduling a tutoring session at eight in the morning was an even worse idea.

You had many strong suits, but English wasn’t one of them. It was the one subject you had struggled with since you were in high school. Analyzing the words of dead white men from centuries ago was just about as much fun as watching paint dry. Numbers were much more your thing. They were easy and in the words of Cady Heron, ‘Math was the same in every language.’

But you needed to pass. It’s not as if you were here on your parents’ dime like the other kids. You were a scholarship kid and if your grades slipped, so did you. Out the doors and on your ass. So, when you got your last paper back with a big fat ‘D’ written on it, you knew it was time to take action. And that meant getting a tutor.

You just happened to forget that today, on this bright and early morning, with a pounding headache and dry mouth, you were supposed to be meeting him.

Again, you ask, who the fuck schedules a tutoring session at eight in the morning?

With a groan, you grab your phone, hoping to hit the ‘snooze’ button on your alarm one more time before you really had to get up but when your eyes read the time you realize that it’s damn near eight-thirty. How many times have you hit the snooze button? You wonder but realize you’re only wasting more time. Without a second thought, you hop out of bed and into the bathroom, brushing your teeth and running a comb through your curly hair. Your make-up is smudged, and you still have on the shimmering dress from last night but there’s nothing you can do about it now. You grab a hoodie off your desk chair and hightail it to the school’s library.

Inside study room 007, you find a very annoyed, albeit very handsome senior waiting at the table. Laid out in front of him are a stack of books, notebooks, and flash cards. Pens and pencils are lined up neatly in a row. He all but glares at you as enter. Before you can speak, he glances at his watch and then looks back at you. “You’re late.”

“I know,” you say, out of breath. “I got caught up …” you scramble, trying to think of a lie instead of admitting you had spent the night throwing ass to Megan thee Stallion and Cardi B but your folder of excuses in the very back of your brain shows up empty. That might be for the best, you realize as you look over your tutor.

“Partying?” He finishes the sentence for you. His eyes rake over you in judgment. “Maybe that’s why you’re failing English.”

Now wait a damn minute. You scoff, crossing your arms. Your brain is foggy, you desperately need a glass of water – and, not to mention, your skin feels beyond icky. The last thing you can do right now is come up with a proper comeback so the only thing you manage to utter is, “Or maybe English is just hard.”

“You speak it every day, how hard could it be?”

“Whatever,” you say, sitting down across from him. “Can we just … start?”

Jimin checks his watch again. “We might as well. We’ve got thirty minutes left. Let’s make the most of it.”

“I thought I had you for an hour.”

“Yes, and you were late so that hour has turned into thirty minutes. I’ve got things to do, Ms. L/N. I can’t wait around for you all day,” he replies, picking up a black ballpoint pen. “Let’s get started.”

“I’d much prefer it if you called me, Y/N,” you say, leaning back in your chair. “And you’re Jimin, correct?”

He nods curtly. “Alright, Ms. L/N, your form said you have an upcoming paper that focuses on the themes from Nella Larsen’s Passing. What part of the story are you at?”

You roll your eyes but choose not to correct him about your name and instead just answer his question. “I’m not on any part.”

His eyes brighten. “You mean you’ve already finished? Well, great, let’s jump right into discussion –”

“No,” you cut him off. “I’m not on any part because I haven’t started the book.”

Jimin looks at you as if you grew another head. “Your essay for the book is due next week. The book is less than two hundred pages. What do you mean you haven’t started yet?”

You shrug. “I figured since it’s such a short book I could probably finish it and write the essay in the same day.”

“And what day were you planning on doing that since our study session is right now?”

That day was last night but as you both knew you had gotten caught up with … other things. “I guess I figured we’d start the book together and I’d just get the essay done next week.”

Jimin sighs. “Ms. L/N, whatever you manage to vomit onto paper will not bring your grade up in the slightest if you follow your method. I guarantee that.”

You find yourself rolling your eyes – again. “That’s what you’re here for. You’re my tutor so tutor me in the right direction.” Jimin studies you for a moment and then he begins carefully putting his things away into his messenger bag. “Wait. What are you doing?”

“Ms. L/N, you can reach out to me once you’ve read the book but until then, we have nothing to discuss. I only meet with students who are serious about their education,” he places his bag over his shoulder and nods toward you. “Have a good day.”

“Um, hello! You can’t just leave,” you say, getting out of your chair.

“I can and I am,” Jimin replies, and with that, he walks out of the study room. You begin to follow him but decide against it. What good would that do? He was rude and had judged you from the moment you walked in the door. You didn’t need a tutor like that.

You decided you were going to go to the campus café, buy a large coffee, and then go home to take a much-needed shower.

. . . .

“He was a jerk,” you tell your best friend, Winter, taking a long sip of your mango-pineapple smoothie. “He left right in the middle of our session.”

Every Tuesday was the same. A morning class and then a lunch date with your bestie, Winter, at your favorite smoothie place about twenty minutes away from campus.

She shakes her head but not at him. “Y/N, I love you, but you were late. You didn’t read the material, and you had the nerve to have an attitude. I would have walked out on you too.”

Harsh but it was the truth. You weren’t quite ready to admit that you were somewhat at fault too. “Okay, but I’m saying, he didn’t have to be rude about it though.”

“What’d he look like?”

“He would be fine as hell if he wasn’t so rude,” you answer honestly.

She shakes her head, amused. “What did you end up getting on your essay anyway?”

After the last encounter with Jimin, you decided you’d find another tutor, but in the meantime, you were going to stick with your tried and true. You did exactly what you had told Jimin you would do. You read most of the book in one evening and managed to type up a paper in the same night, confident that you had aced it. But when you looked online, checking your grade, you realized Jimin had been right. Regardless, you weren’t going back to him.

You sigh. “Does it matter?”

“Yes,” Winter replies. “Because if Jimin is right, then I think you should give him a call.”

“Jimin Parker?”

You and Winter look up to see Jennie Kim hovering above you. Her freshly dyed blonde hair cascaded in waves down her slender face. You may have been the resident party girl, but Jen was the resident party queen.

“Hey Jen,” you say, motioning for her to take a seat. “Yeah, Jimin Parker. You know him?”

She sits between you and Winter. “You mean that gorgeous senior? Ugh, I had him as a tutor last semester.”

“How’d he do?” Winter says, giving you a knowing look.

You lean forward. Jennie was known for many things but having good grades was not one of them. In fact, you wondered how she managed to make it this far without being kicked out. But, if Jimin could manage to get her grades up, then he truly was a miracle worker.

“Amazing,” Jen gushes. “I got an A on my last three papers. I wanted him again this semester but apparently, he’s all booked up.”

You groan as Winter gives you another look. You pull your cell phone out of your pocket and dial Jimin. “Hello?” You reply as he answers. “Hi, yeah, Jimin, it’s Y/N. I was wondering if we could set up a session …”

…

For his sake (and mostly yours) you schedule an afternoon session and this time, you show up prepared. When he arrives, he’s shocked to see you already in the study room.

“Good afternoon,” he says, rounding the table to sit across from you. You get a whiff of his cedarwood cologne. “I see you’re on time.”

“I’m early,” you correct him. “You’re on time.”

“That I am,” he says, taking a seat. You watch him closely as he carefully takes out various pens and pencils, notebooks, and flashcards. He really is handsome, you think, even if he is an ass. “I see we’re studying Oedipus Rex by Sophocles?”

You nod your head. “I read it. I don’t understand it.”

“What exactly don’t you understand?”

“Not a single word in that book. They might as well be speaking Greek.”

He sighs. “Well, it is a Greek book.”

“Clearly,” you reply. “So where do we start?”

“I guess at the beginning.”

. . . .

Things were going smoothly. You found yourself actually understanding the material and surprisingly, enjoying it. But you also found yourself getting lost in Jimin at times. The more time you spent with him, the more you developed a crush. Your mind would wander as your eyes looked over him. You wondered how soft his full lips were. You wondered what his eyes looked like in moments of passion. You wondered how good it would feel to be wrapped up in his strong arms.

Your eyes were on his arms when he called your name. “Huh?”

“I asked did you want to go over the scene between Antigone and Polynices again?”

You shake your head. “No, I think I understand. Antigone wants him to call off the war, but Polynices’ pride won’t let him.”

“Correct,” Jimin replies with a smile.

Fuck, you think. Jimin had a smile that would make anyone melt. “Jimin,” you begin and mentally kick yourself for what you’re about to ask but you’ve started so you might as well finish. You put on your best flirtatious smile. “What do I get if I ace my next paper?”

He seems to know what you’re hinting at. “You get an A and the satisfaction of knowing your hard work paid off.”

Well, if that wasn’t a blaring rejection, you don’t know what is. “Do you have a girlfriend?” You blurt it out before your brain can even process whether the question was appropriate or not.

He blinks, slightly taken aback. “Yes, yes, I do. Why?”

You shrug, trying to be as nonchalant as possible even though you feel as if you’ve just gotten stung by a million honeybees. “No reason. You just seem so into your academics; I didn’t think you had time for that kind of stuff.”

“Well, a human being still needs a social life to thrive,” he replies coolly. “Do you have a boyfriend?”

You nod. “Yes, and his name is Jose Cuervo.”

He laughs. “I’m sure you have a line of men knocking on your door.”

“Nobody I want though,” you say, mostly to yourself.

. . . .

If crushing on him wasn’t enough, now you were dreaming about him. A week of erotic dreams plagued you. They felt so real. You could smell his signature cologne as he pushed in and out of you, your legs on his shoulders and his arms wrapped around your thick thighs. Each dream ended the same though, just as he was about to finish, your alarm would wake you up and you would spend a good five minutes finishing yourself off before getting ready for the day.

Instead of a study room at the library, Jimin asked you to meet him at his apartment for the study session. He mentioned something about time constraints, appointments, and being unable to book a study room but your brain had been stuck on, “Wanna meet me at my apartment? We can have a quick recap sesh before I have to run out?” He could barely finish his question before you agreed to it.

So, sue you for being curious.

It’s not like anything will happen, you thought as you parked, he has a girlfriend. You arrived twenty minutes early. Your excitement had gotten the best of you and you knew how much Jimin liked it when you were on time. When you knocked on the door, a man almost as handsome as Jimin answered.

“You must be Y/N?” he asked, sticking out his hand. “I’m Taehyung.”

You nodded, the thought of becoming a Wattpad heroine and having two incredibly attractive men fight over you danced around in your head. You shook his hand. “Nice to meet you, Taehyung.”

As he let you in, he explained he had somewhere to be, but that Jimin was in his room and to head right in. You gave the door a light knock but didn’t receive an answer. The door was slightly ajar, giving you the smallest view of a very neat bedroom. You spotted Jimin at his desk, looking at something on his large computer monitor. It looked familiar. Your curiosity ate at you, forcing your hand to ever-so-gently open the door further. This time you could see what Jimin was looking at clearly.

It was you. It was your Instagram feed. He was scrolling through your pictures, pausing at every photo that was a bit risqué.

“Fuck, Y/N …”

That was your name. Leaving his lips. In a moan. Your heart fluttered with excitement. But wait, was he …

As you tilt your head to get a better view, you can see the tip of his elbow on the armrest, bobbing up and down. And up and down. And up and down.

Oh, he definitely was.

You slap a hand over your mouth and tiptoe back to the living room. A few minutes later, you hear a shower turn on and ten minutes after that, you see Jimin emerge in a navy blue V-neck and a pair of grey sweatpants.

“Hey,” Jimin looks at you with a face full of guilt. You can’t help but smile. “How long have you been waiting?”

“I just got here a few minutes ago,” you lie, looking up from your phone that you were pretending to be engrossed in. “I haven’t been waiting long.”

“Good, good,” he says. “Let’s go to the kitchen. The lighting is better in there.”

. . . .

After three weeks of hard work and several study sessions, you submit your paper with all the confidence of Scott Disick. Winter, the best friend that she is, decided that this was the best time to reward your good behavior with a couple of jello shots at your favorite bar. You gobble up the first two and then decide to sip on a blue Long Island iced tea. That’s when you spot him. Sitting in a corner, next to his roommate and another man with tattoos up and down his arms. Instead of his usual tweed blazer and grey slacks, his outfit looks more modern, more casual. A white graphic tee hugs his toned body, and you can’t help but eye his biceps. His cheeks are slightly red, his eyes are glossy and he’s laughing harder than you’ve ever seen him laugh. He looks delicious but you turn around and decide to order another shot from the bar.

You spot Winter getting her mack on with a fellow classmate, Karina, and it’s then you realize that you’re probably going to be alone for the rest of the night. Just as you begin to grab your wallet to pay your tab, a familiar figure approaches you.

“Fancy seeing you here,” he’s wearing a smile you’ve never seen before, and it makes your insides flutter.

“I could say the same thing,” you reply. “I never thought I’d see Jimin Park in a bar.”

“I don’t spend all my time in the library,” Jimin says.

“Could have fooled me,” you tease, taking a sip of your drink. “What brings you out among people?”

He orders a whiskey sour before turning to you. “I, Y/N L/N, am finally a single man. My girlfriend of two years has decided that she no longer wants me.”

He’s smiling but you can see sadness behind his glossy eyes. “I’m sorry,” you say earnestly. “Her loss.”

“Oh definitely,” he says with a slight slur. “You want to know the real reason she broke up with me?”

You shrug. “Lay it on me.”

He leans in close, so close his body is pressed up against yours. He angles his lips to your ear and whispers, “I was too much for her.”

“Oh …”

“Yeah,” his words spill out in a rush, his eyes darkening as they take you in. They pause at your mini-skirt before crawling up your body slowly. You suddenly feel exposed, as if he just completely undressed you, but it would be a lie to say you didn’t love it. His voice lowers to a sultry whisper, “You don’t seem like that though.”

“Seem like that?”

“Like I’d be too much for you.”

“In what way?” You ask, genuinely curious.

He leans toward you, his lips brushing past your ear, forcing every hair on the back of your neck to stand up. “Sexual. You look like a good girl who knows how to take a pounding.”

A million thoughts ran through your head as Jimin broke out into a sardonic laugh. You were called back to that time you caught him masturbating to your pictures. You began to wonder if the prim and proper Jimin was just a façade to hide the sexual deviant he really was. His eyes look over you in a way they never have, and you swore they were clouded with lust. He licks his full lips, and you want nothing more than to kiss them, but you don’t. Instead, you take a step back and laugh, motioning to his roommate. Jimin was drunk and even though it looked like he wanted to bend you over the bar and give it to you, you knew better than to take advantage of a drunk man.

….

A week later, when you enter the study room, the moment you and Jimin exchange glances, you feel awkward. He looks embarrassed as he gestures for you to sit down.

“We need to talk,” he says. “I want to apologize about the other night at the bar.”

“It’s okay, I barely even gave it a second thought,” you lie. You had thought about that moment ever since it happened.

“No, it was inappropriate, and I shouldn’t have spoken to you that way.”

“Jimin, you were drunk, it’s fine. Besides, it was nice to see a different side to you,” you reassured him with a smile.

“That’s not a side that I would like to be representative of who I am,” Jimin admits. “I don’t want to be known as the guy who makes people uncomfortable.”

You laugh. “Believe me, I was the farthest thing from uncomfortable.”

He locks eyes with you for a moment before clearing his throat and motioning toward your phone. “Have you checked your grades yet?”

You gasp, suddenly remembering the paper you had submitted a week earlier. You quickly bring up your most recent webpage, searching for the most recent grade listing. As your eyes glance over your paper and the notes, you realize that Jimin lived up to his reputation. You get up, shoving the phone in his face, squealing.

His eyes brighten, and he gets up as well. “You got an A!”

Without thinking, you throw your arms around him, pulling him into a tight hug. Jimin, to your surprise, doesn’t push away. Instead, he pulls you closer, his arms wrapping around your waist. You take the moment to breathe in his intoxicating scent. The both of you remain intertwined far longer than you both know is appropriate but for some reason, neither one of you makes the move to let go.

Finally, Jimin relents first. He stares you in the face and says quietly, “I knew you could do it.”

You let out a small laugh. “I couldn’t do it without you. Thank you, Jimin”

“As a reward, we can end the session ten minutes early today,” Jimin replies and sits back down.

You find yourself shaking your head. “Can I request a different reward?”

Jimin looks up at you and nods. You look around the small study space. The room you chose was in the back, the library was relatively empty today and the small window the room provided was on the door and could easily be covered up the shade provided. You mentally prepare yourself for what you’re about to say next. Things could go downhill, fast, depending on his reaction. Still, you steady yourself, look Jimin in the eyes and say, “I want a kiss.”

“What?”

“A kiss,” you repeat confidently. “I want you to kiss me as a reward.”

“I can’t kiss you,” he replies back, taking study materials out of his messenger bag. “That would be highly ina –”

“Jimin, if you don’t want to kiss me, just say so but don’t use the tutor-student relationship as a reason.”

He sighs. “I …” You watch as he struggles to find the right words.

“You were right about me,” you say, giving him a flirtatious smirk. “At the bar. I can take a good pounding.”

His face turns a beet-red, but he quickly recovers. He stands, walking to stand in front of you. “Just one kiss?”

“One kiss,” you repeat.

He leans in and places a soft kiss on your lips, lingering for only a few seconds before breaking the kiss. “That good?”

You shake your head. “I hardly think that’s worth all the work I put in.”

He smiles, genuinely amused, and says, “Really?”

You nod. “Maybe if it was longer …”

Jimin sighs. “Y/N, if it’s longer, you know what that will lead to …”

“Then let it lead to that,” you challenge, you push. “I don’t know why you have to act so anal-retentive all the time. Not everything has to be perfect. Just k—”

He cuts you off with a deeper kiss. It’s slow and sensual. His hands wrap around your waist, one of them running down the curve of your ass as he palms it slowly, indulging in the fleshy softness. You can feel his dick hardening on your thigh as he slips a tongue into your mouth.

Jimin is using both hands to palm your ass now, his dick grinding into you and a low, deep, moan leaves his mouth forcing an electric sensation to shoot down your spine and vibrate in your core.

“You sure you want this?” he asks through a searing kiss.

“Yes,” you think you say but you’re not sure. Your head is spinning that this is actually happening.

He responds by lifting your pleated skirt and smacking your ass, the sound echoing throughout the room. Fingertips dance between your ass crack, and he uses a knee to part your legs slightly further. You break the kiss, throwing your head back as you feel Jimin’s fingertips slowly rub your pussy from the back. He slips a finger into your underwear, running it up and down your slit.

“How long have you wanted this?” He asks, nipping at your neck. “You’re already so fucking wet.” You try to answer but all that comes out is a moan as he slips another finger inside. “Shh,” he tells you. “You want the whole library to hear you?”

He gives you a bit of a reprieve when his hands slip away. You watch as he pulls out one of the chairs and sits, beckoning for you to stand in front of him. Your skirt is still at your waist, so he pulls your underwear down before pulling you close. You feel his large hands grope your ass again, peppering kisses up and down your hips. Another smack echoes through the room before he uses a hand to caress clit. You move your hips in response, holding on to the table for balance.

He pauses. “Turn around and bend over.” He doesn’t have to ask you twice. You obey, and not a second later, you feel him placing one of your legs up on the study table. “Arch that back, baby.” Your ass juts out just a little more as you follow his directions. A moment later you feel a cool, wet, sensation going up and down the slit of your core. It’s slow at first, as if he’s taking the time to let the taste of you marinate on his tongue but he quickly picks up his pace. The tip of his tongue flickering over your clit. Meanwhile, you can feel his thumb, massaging your anus.

Jimin was an ass man, and he was making that very clear.

Both hands were gripping your ass now as he guided your pussy over his tongue. You work your hips in tandem, stifling a loud moan as your world begins to go white.

But he wasn’t done with you yet.

He moves his tongue from your pussy up to your anus, and you jerk, having never quite felt something like this before. You can hear an amused laugh leave Jimin’s throat as he begins to massage your ass with his tongue. His fingers working your pussy, begging for another orgasm. You oblige, your wetness dripping all over his fingertips.

“Don’t move,” he demands. You can hear his belt unbuckling, followed by the tips of his dick moving up and down your incredibly wet slit. He slides it in with the patience of a saint, excruciatingly slow, forcing whimpers out of you, begging him to go faster. “You sure you want it faster?”

“Please,” you moan.

“Please, what?”

“Please, Jimin,” you manage to utter out.

He gives you your wish and begins to pound you like he said he would. His pace quickens and you can feel every inch of him inside of you. Your pussy wraps around him which causes him to smack your ass, and a deep moan leaves his lips.

You realize he can’t have all the fun though and you begin to throw it back on him, your ass bouncing against him, and he lets you. You can hear your wetness as you begin to drain his dick. You can hear his low grunts of satisfaction as you pick up your pace and when you look back, you can see his dark eyes looking at you in a way you never wanted to stop. “Good fucking girl,” he whispers in a low voice.

You make eye contact which forces him to grip your hips and pound into you harder, faster (stronger). “One more time baby,” he says to you, maintaining eye contact. “Cum on this dick.” You had already been close, and his words only sent you over the edge further than you had ever gone. You close your eyes, your body shaking in pleasure as you have your third orgasm on his dick.

He follows suit, his cum shooting deep inside of you. You feel his body on top of yours as you both try to catch your breath.

“Was that worth all your hard work?’ He asks.

“I think I’ll have to get A’s for the rest of the year,” you reply.

“The rest of your life.”

#bts fic #bts x reader #bts x black reader #jimin x reader #jimin x you #jimin x y/n #smut #bts smut #bts x reader fic #jimin x black reader

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daddyslilchickenfingers2 · 1 year ago

Text

Masturbation (Matt)

Request: None

Warnings: Sub Matt, mommy kink, friends to lovers, jacking off, soft dom y/n, praising, whiny Matt, getting caught, choking

Y/n’s pov

Don’t get me wrong, I love living with the triplets but sometimes being the only girl in a house with three rowdy boys can be a lot. Today I had the house to myself so I actually got to sleep in for once and do some cleaning without Chris making a mess two seconds later. After I cleaned up the house a little bit, I took a shower and got ready for a day of editing. I remembered that Matt had asked to borrow my MacBook last night since his was getting fixed but he never returned it.

I specifically told him not to open any folders but I didn’t tell him why, the reasoning behind it was I had folders with different modeling pictures in some of them. Photos that I most definitely did not need Matt or Chris seeing, more specifically they were pictures of me in lingerie for a brand deal that was being used on their website. I decided I would just go get it back since he wasn’t home so I ascended my way up the stairs to his bedroom. Obviously, since he wasn’t home I entered his room without knocking and I was shocked.

Not only was Matt home and in his bedroom, he was sitting at his desk with my laptop open. There on the screen was one of my pictures from the lingerie shoot, more specifically the one where I was wearing the skimpiest set. Matt was shirtless with his sweats and boxers pulled halfway down his thighs, cock in hand as he was jerking off. His eyes were closed and he was quietly moaning as he stroked his big dick, swiping his thumb over the slit every few strokes to spread and use his precum as lube.

He seemed to not hear or notice me come in so I thought I’d have some fun, instead of being mad I was oddly turned on. I walked up behind his chair, placing my hands on his shoulders as I leaned closer to his ear. “What are you doing Matty? I thought I told you not to open my folders?” I spoke in a seductive voice. Matt flinched stilling his movements “I- I- Shit Y/n I’m so so so sorry! Fuck I don-“ he started nervously stuttering, I moved my right hand to wrap around his as I made him resume his previous movements. “I didn’t tell you to stop, c’mon finish what you started” I teased him.

Matt whimpered at my words as I made him slowly move his hand up and down his hard cock. I spun his chair around to face me, loving the embarrassed and nervous look his face held as he avoided eye contact with me, “What happened Matty? I thought you were a good boy?” I pouted at him. His eyes shot up to look at mine “I am a good boy! I promise I am!” I wasn’t expecting Matt to be so submissive but I was loving it. I stopped our hands, removing his from his hard cock as I looked back at him with a gaze that made him squirm “If you were a good boy you would’ve listened to me baby. I guess you just aren’t a good boy huh?” I teased bending down so we were eye level with each other.

The next thing that came out of his mouth shocked me but oddly turned me on even more “No I am, I’m your good boy mommy! Promise I’m your good boy! I’m sorry, please mommy, I didn’t mean to…” he whined as his cheeks turned a deep shade of pink. “But good boys listen Matty, you didn’t listen love” I said while stroking his cheek as his eyes teared up, “I d-don’t wanna b-be a bad boy! I di-didn’t mean to, I-I’m sorry!” He was about to cry and his cock was so hard, dripping precum against his stomach as he desperately tried to apologize.

“I know baby but you didn’t listen to my one rule. I should punish you, just tie you up and edge you until your brothers come back but I’m not that mean. I still think you should be punished though” Matt’s cock twitched, leaking out more precum as I spoke. “I’ll make it up to you mommy! I wanna be your good boy, wanna make you feel good! Please mommy I’m sorry!” he begged as a few tears fell but he was quick to wipe them away.

I took his hands in mine as I stood up, looking down at him I said “Awe it’s okay Matty, don’t cry. You wanna be mommy’s good boy, right?” nodding he pleaded “Please” as he looked up at me, squeezing my hands. I moved some hair out of his face “Go lay down for me baby, you’re gonna let mommy ride you okay?” he quickly stood up pushing his pants down the rest of the way down before fully taking them off.

Matt laid down on the bed, watching me as I teasingly took off my clothes, making Matt whine. I got onto the bed and sat on my knees next to Matt who was staring at me, his eyes scanning over my body as his mouth was slightly opened. “What’s wrong Matty? Never seen a girl naked before?” I teased him while tracing a finger down his chest before going down to slowly stroke his cock, “I- I have, you’re just really pretty. Was just admiring you mommy” he says innocently. “Awe thank you baby” I replied giving him a sweet kiss, “Can I touch you please?” He asked in a sweet voice as I moved to straddle him, spreading my wetness across his hard cock as I grinded down on him. “Only because you asked so nicely my love” I smiled at him pushing his hair back. Matt’s hands came to rest on my hips helping me rock back and forth as I pulled him in for a kiss, quickly dominating it.

I pulled away moving my kisses down his neck, giving him a few hickies before Matt whined “Mommy please, I wanna be inside you, wanna make you feel good” he begged. I nodded and slowly slid down onto his dick pulling a moan from the both of us, “You’re so big Matty, making mommy feel so good” I praised him while I started slowly bouncing up and down. The praising made Matt let out a little whimper as blush spread across his cheeks, “F-feels good, s-so good” he whined out as his hands still firmly held onto my waist, his grip getting tighter as I started riding him faster.

“You’re being such a good boy for me baby, you look so cute underneath me like this. Do you like when mommy rides you Matty?” I praised him some more as he looked up at me, his pupils fully dilated and his lips slightly parted as he let out uneven breaths and whiney moans. He nodded erratically as his nails dug into my hips “Yes! Yes, feels so good! You’re so pretty mommy, ca-can you umm…” Matt moaned out before trailing off and looking anywhere but at me. I moved his chin up so he was looking at me before placing a small kiss on his lips “Can I what, baby? What do you want me to do?” I asked him while pushing some of his hair back.

We were both getting close, I could tell by Matts increased breathing and moans, “Can y-you choke me p-please mommy?” Matt asked, grabbing my hand and playing with my fingers, kind of catching me off guard. I did as he asked, wrapping my hand around his throat but not really applying any pressure, “Tighter, please” he begged, turning me on even more, I never thought I’d have a thing for choking a guy during sex but with Matt it was different. “Feel good Matty? You like it when I choke you, baby?” “F-feels so good, can I please cum?” he whined as I started moving faster if that was even possible. Matt used his hands on my waist to help me move as he started to buck up his hips from being sensitive.

“In a second baby, I want to cum with you” I told him while tightening my hand around his throat a bit more as Matt whined, deciding he would help me cum faster by rubbing my clit. He looked up at me with innocent eyes as he did some “Is this okay mommy?” He asked innocently, “Yes it’s okay Matty, you’re being such a good boy for me” I panted out making Matt let out a loud moan. “Cum with me baby, be a good boy and fill me with your cum” I moaned, pulling Matt in for a rough and heated kiss. I tightened around him as I came, making Matt pull away from the kiss, throwing his head back. He let out a loud whimper/moan as he came inside of me before hiding his face in my neck as we both stopped our movements and I removed my hand from his throat.

I slowly pulled off of Matt’s dick making him hiss at the feeling before I got up and made my way to the bathroom to clean myself up. I returned to Matt’s room with a damp washcloth to clean him up as well “C’mon Matt let me help you get dressed before I go downstairs to get myself dressed” I told the tired looking boy. “Mhm no ‘m tired, stay for cuddles please! Wear one of my shirts and come lay down with me” he pleaded with me. Sighing in defeat I grabbed one of Matt’s shirts, throwing it over my head before going to grab two pair of his boxers, throwing a pair at him as we both got dressed. I laid down for the rest of the day, cuddling with Matt, hoping hid brothers wouldn’t have questions when they got home.

Taglist: @angelic-sturniolos111 @biimpanicking @biplrbtch @chrisenthusiast @chrisolivia4l @christinarowie332 @chr1sgirl4life @delimeats-000 @dev-speaks @ermdontmindthisaccount @flowerxbunnie @fionaheartswomen @heartsforchrisandmatt @iheartchrissturniolo @ilovemattsturn @its-jennarose @justaslvttygirl @kvtie444 @lustfulslxt @luvysworld @m6ttsturniolo @mangosrar @mangoposts @meerkatzthings @mattsnutsack @rac00ns-are-c00l4 @recklesssturniolo @solarsturniolo @soursturniolo @strniohoeee @sturniolohoe @sturniolopepsi

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ilovelovewithallmyheart · 1 year ago

Text

Your clan of jujutsu sorcerors weren’t in the top three, but they weren’t far behind. They were in the top four.

In prestigious jujutsu clans, the matter of carrying the bloodline was of great importance. Your older sister, powerful, beautiful and amazingly kind was constantly getting marriage proposals left and right.

It was the night of a great banquet celebrating your older sisters 30th birthday. She was already running 40 minutes late…

Suddenly the lights dimmed and the projector started lowering itself out of nowhere. A video flashed into life-

“Hey guys. You must be wondering where I am right now. As you are watching this, I will be on a one way trip to America.”

Your older sister sat in front of the camera, confessional youtube video style.

Loud gasps resounded across the hall. You felt your stomach churn, the dinner you had earlier threatening to make a reappearance.

“Don’t bother looking for me.”

She crossed her arms. “I decided to leave for the better. After all, It was hard on me and my wife to live so far apart from eachother.”

An outrage spread all around you. “What is the meaning of this?” Your father roared.

You had no idea when your sister got married. But go her.

“To my younger sister…goodbye and good luck.”

The video dimmed, leaving the dinner hall in darkness and utter chaos.

Good luck? What could she mean by that-

It suddenly dawned on you.

Without your older sister, you were now the first candidate for marriage.

“You are seriously strange if you think for one moment that I’ll agree to marry Zenin Naoya. He literally handed me a terms and conditions folder of everything I can and can’t do if we get married!” Arguing with your father felt like arguing with a brick wall.

“He is in line to be the next head of-“ A knock on the door stopped your father from another one of his rants. You sighed in relief. “Don’t allow in any late comers. Meeting time ended two minutes ago.” Your father ordered.

For the past six, that’s right, six hours of the day, you and your father met with suitors who were asking you for your hand in marriage.

The guard at the door looked increasingly nauseous. “Sir-“

The door suddenly blasted open, splinters of wood flying everywhere. Your father ducked and you felt existensial dread. You knew who was behind that door.

“My dear, sorry I’m late.” Casually stepping around the carnage as if it was nothing, Gojo Satoru sauntered in with all his 6’3 might.

You felt a migraine coming in.

Ever since the first year of highschool, Gojo Satoru had been hopelessly besotted with you. He’s asked for your hand in marriage four different times. With four. Different. Rings.

“What is this Gojo.” You stared blankly at the ROCK sitting on a thick band of gold. You and Gojo just finished up a mission together, and, covered in a curse’s guts, he dropped to one knee and brought out a ring. “You declined the last three times so I figured you wanted a bigger diamond.”

That same man was now standing around your ruined meeting room with a sheepish smile on his face. “I-I actually didn’t get you a ring this time.” He had the audacity to look shy. “I hope you forgive me…”

“You don’t need to get me a diamond abomination to propose. I’ll reject you, ring or no ring.” You replied with a lethal smile. “Why are you here Satoru.” You wanted this man out.

“Why else would I be here? I’m asking if I can be your husband.” His face wasn’t playful anymore. He was dead serious.

You were about to reject him for the fifth time, but then your eyes landed on Naoya’s thick terms and conditions booklet, then you remembered the multitude of old, decaying men that were basically salivating while looking at you, and sighed.

“Fine.”

“YES. There’ll be donkeys and-“

“We’re having a small wedding ceremony.”

He frowned. Obviously, he had planned out the entire wedding ceremony out meticulously, donkeys and all.

“We can work on it.”

#gojo x reader #gojo x you #jujutsu gojo #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu sorcerer #gojo satoru #satoru gojo #jjk oneshot #jjk x reader #jjk #jjk gojo #gojo oneshot

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majestichyuk · 2 years ago

Text

Sweet spot

Pairing :- Masseur!Jaemin x fem!reader

Summary :- After much convincing, maybe not at your own will, you finally agreed to get that much-needed massage, Thank you Seungkwan.

Genre :- Smut (because I’m nice like that), fluff if you squint (you'll definitely see it), coworker Seungkwan, strangers to potential lovers.

Wc :- 3.7K

WARNING :- Reader has a nipple piercing (cause she, YOU are freaky like that.), teasing, dirty talk, Buff Jaemin, yes that is a warning, Jaemin loves the booty (you shouldn’t be surprised) so ass is being ATE just a lil lick is all, Jaemin is a pussy fiend. Female receiving, oral, cum eating, sexual tension. (I think that’s all ), sry for mistakes if there is any.

NOTES :- This here lady sluts and gentle whores is my first half smut that was in the making. I spent an hour and a half working on it, so I’ll check this off as the 4th story I’ve successfully completed 🎉 kudos to me. I hope you enjoy it and if you do comment and if you don't and think I could improve something still comment or message me anonymously, cause critique can lead to my improvement but being bitchy will get you nowhere, ANYWAYS, LIKE, REBLOG & FOLLOW.

-------------------------------------------------------

“Why don’t you just come with me to the spa on Saturday, huh y/n?” Your best friend/coworker, begged you as he grabbed your arm, tugging you lightly.

“Do I look like I have time to go to a spa?” You licked the tip of your finger as you skimmed through the documents that your lazy boss rudely dropped on your desk, without uttering as much as a please.

“And plus, Saturdays are clean-up days, my cousin is a lazy fuck and I have to suffer from it,” You itch the crown of your head, slightly groaning realizing you might have to do an all-nighter once again on a Friday evening with the load of work in front of you.

“Why don’t I take some of these with me,” Seungkwan lightly squeezed your hands as he took up about 60% of your work from your desk.

“That way you can have a good night's sleep, while I plan our day out tomorrow,” Seungkwan squealed as he imagined finally getting to pamper you but you had to rain on his parade.

“No” You took the papers from him and placed them in your folder.

“No?” He looked at you in disbelief.

“I didn’t stutter, I won’t burden my work on you, it’s fine,” You reassured him.

“But you didn’t put your work on me, I volunteered,” He snatched your folder and took out the papers he had before, getting up from his seat and placing them in his briefcase.

“And I don’t want to hear any more nonsense about you doing all the work at the house when your cousin is a grown MAN,” Seungkwan picked up his suit jacket and swiftly put it on.

“Ah Kwannie, It’s really not a big deal– okay…” You stopped uttering a word when he hit you with that stare, a stare only a child of a strict and overprotective mother would understand, it was bone-chilling really.

“Good, I’ll text you the details so make sure you fix yourself up nice and be punctual,” Seungkwan placed his polyester scarf around his neck and ray-ban his glasses on (yes he wears ray-bans shut up).

“Go home, finish off the work, do whatever you do at night, that ritual of yours whatever, and sleep well, sleep early,” Seungkwan pulled you up from your seat and pulled you into a hug.

“You sure you don’t like girls, I’m just saying if you’d allow me to slap on a strap I’d make a heck of a guy,” Seungkwan pushed you off and picked up his phone, giving you a side glance.

“Girl if you don’t go home, goodbye.” He laughed richly as he walked out, leaving the office. You followed the same routine minutes later and headed home.

—-----------------------------------------------------------

Seungkwan ended up sending you the website for the Spa he had been rambling about for weeks on end as soon as you stepped into the door of your house. You decided to check it out after completing your office work and getting ready for bed.

After an hour and a half, you flopped into your bed, finally getting to relax. You checked the time, normally you’d finish work around late 11 but now it was around 8:35p.m, thanks to Seungkwan that was your earliest, EVER. You did a light prayer for him because he’s an angel.

You covered yourself with your sheet and opened your and Seungkwan's messages where he sent the link, you exchanged words with him before you clicked the link.

He told you he already made the reservation on your behalf and because he was close friends with a guy named Wonwoo there, he was able to get a discount. He told you your first appointment would be a massage done by some woman named Na Jaemin, it should be an easy name to remember because before you started working in your current job you were a daycare teacher and there was the cute little girl whose name was IM Jaemin, oh was she a menace.

The website just showed all the available procedures, the cost, and the exaggerated descriptions of the long-lasting after-effects of the excellent experience. You turned your phone off, turned it over, and went to sleep.

—-----------------------------------------------------------

Loud, obnoxious snores were coming from your room, your cousin slowly opened your door, peeping inside to check to see if you were okay, living, and not choking to death.

He walked up to your bed and pinched your lips shut. “You need to change your settings on that noise that you’re making,” He looked at you in disgust, shaking his head, and watched as you stopped breathing and shot up from your sleep in a sitting position, knocking him on his ass on the floor.

“CHENLE WHAT THE FUCK?!” If looks could kill you’d have a red dot aimed at your forehead right now. Chenle got up and dusted himself off.

“You do know I could hear you snoring all the way across the hall?” He used his thumb and pointed outside your door, You rolled your eyes and checked your phone.

“Oh fuck!” You jumped out of bed, shoving Chenle out of the way, he landed on your bed and flopped on the floor as you grabbed your towel and rushed into the bathroom.

“YOU’RE WELCOME YOU MIX-BREED ASSHOLE!” Chenle shouted as he stormed behind you.

“CLEAN MY HOUSE YOU OBNOXIOUS PIECE OF SHIT!,” You replied as you slammed the bathroom door, minutes later you heard his bedroom slam as well, and you rolled your eyes.

—-----------------------------------------------------------

“Don’t look at me like that,” You sulk as you look away from Seughkwan. So you woke up late and got there late and when you arrived you were met with a disappointed Boo Seughkwan, arms crossed, legs over one another as he sat outside of the Spa company in the few seats placed outside, looking at you blankly.

“I have every right to jump you in this very moment–..but I’m not going to because I have a reputation to obtain here,” He got up and walked inside, with you following behind.

“Just know I would never go down without a fight, there’s only one of us who actually took boxing classes,” You raised your brow at him as he flicked your forehead and told you to keep quiet as he spoke to the receptionist.

You purse your lips as you look around the establishment, It has a cozy feel. The decor is so homely with some pictures of the employees that work here placed up on the wall, warm colors decorated the place as it was spotless you could almost see yourself on the tiled floors.

The receptionist lady asked you about your information and told you to wait in the available room on the second floor.

“Enjoy your massage babe,” Seungkwan says as he quickly places your hair in a bun (If you imagined your hair up, unimagine it, 💀 boo put it up for you).

“I heard he’s amazing at his job AND he was highly recommended when I filled out the server on your behalf,” You froze after registering his words.

“He’s?Him?He?” You side glanced at him. “Why didn’t you feel the need to mention a dude is gonna be feeling me up Mr. Boo?” You forced a smile that didn’t reach your eyes.

“Get me a masseuse Seungkwan,”

“Y/N-”

“Get me a masseuse Seungkw-,” Seungkwan used his index and thumb to pinch your lips together. (Justice for y/n’s lips in the chat)

“I love you Y/N, I do, but last time I checked I paid for this shit, and you are going to enjoy every last minute of it, Okay?” Seungkwan asked.

“Fine,” You say with a smile that transforms into a dirty look. “This better be the most mind-blowing and toe-curling experience I’ve ever had.”

“And it would be the only and first experience you ever had,” Seungkwan mumbled as he walked to the elevator after signing some papers.

“What’d you say,” You questioned.

“Nothing,” He laughed as he pinched your cheeks while calling you all sorts of baby names.

—-----------------------------------------------------------

You entered the designated room on the second floor, wiped your palm on your shirt, and nervously opened the door. You see a little walk-in closet on the right side of the room with a curtain placed to divide the areas. You see there are a couple of hangers and a table with some towels placed beside it. You took off your shirt and placed it on one of the hangers, you quickly took off your bra and put on the towel provided. Thirdly it was your pants until you heard the door open.

“Good evening, Miss L/N, I’ll be your masseur for this session,” You froze as you peeped through the curtains to put a face to that alluring voice and you almost wished you had convinced your best friend a little more about switching.

“Um Hi, I’ll be out in a minute,” You quickly responded as you disappeared behind the curtains again.

“You can leave on your underwear if that would make you more comfortable,” Jaemin assured you as he went to set up the room. He started lighting some candles to set a relaxing mood. The whole room was filled with the soft scent of lavender and a hint of sweet orange that was rich in limonene.

You folded your pants and kept on your panty as suggested by the masseur. You walked out of the room and set your eyes upon the gorgeous man in question. He was muscular-looking, even in the scrubs he wore. He looked up at you from his place on the floor when he was searching for the oil that happened to be at the bottom back part of the drawer.

“Well you requested a full body massage and I’ll try my best to fulfill your desired needs,” Jaemin softly grinned at you and motioned for you to take a seat on the massage table, you’ll remember to put salt in Seungkwan’s coffee on Monday.

“Thank you,” You found it hard to really say anything, his stare was quite intimidating even though his smile gave you butterflies that just made your heart swell.

He turned his back to you so you took the opportunity to discard your towel and lay on the table. You laid on your back and placed the towel on top of you. Jaemin turned around with his oil in hand, smiling down at you.

“Well all you have to do for me is relax,” Jaemin said, the tone of his voice, giving you goosebumps.

“Okay,” You replied softly as you relaxed your body and closed your eyes, taking the aroma of the atmosphere and bringing your body to ease.

Jaemin adjusted your towel to your mid-thigh, the tip of his fingers lightly brushing your skin, he then moved upwards and brought the top of your towel to the midsection of your breast.

He began his work on your shoulders. He delicately kneaded the area, softly caressing all the knots you have in your neck, gently tracing under your jaw with his thumbs. It felt divine, no man had ever touched you with such thoughtfulness and you’re hoping he’s not the last.

Jaemin moved his hands slowly down your arms, gingerly squeezing the tight muscles as he steadily brought them back up, repeating the process as you felt sleep creeping up on you, Jaemin came back up to your cleavage.

“Would you mind if I removed the top of the towel?” Jaemin asked as he was still above you, looking up at him and seeing him upside down was a little odd but he still for some odd reason looked good.

“Is it mandatory for the massage?” You asked and that made Jaemin smile at you.

“Well, of course, I only deliver the best, and I may even give you a special massage,” Jaemin smiled down at you again, but the smile was different, his eyes seemed to be telling a whole other story, his hands brush the top of your chest, you mutter a quiet okay and closed your eyes once again, letting the cozy environment take over.

“Good, it’s okay, I’ll take good care of you,” He said in such a deep tone, way different from the customer service one he used when he first greeted you, you wondered if it was because he was just comfortable as it’s his natural forte.

He reached over you and moved the towel under your breast, now at the navel of your stomach, he placed it quite low but you didn’t mind. Jaemin released a slightly strained exhale as he pursed his lips and poured some of the oil into his brawny hands. His eyes fell on your nipples, customized in a barbell designed with a crystal, rhinestone, clear zircon, and a beautiful set of pink gems.

He firmly positioned his hands at the side of your breast, gently caressing the fat. He cupped it and massaged under the flesh as he slowly brought his hand up and faintly grazed your nipple. You let out a surprised gasp not expecting to be so sensitive. Jaemin looked down at you, examining your face, and noticed your mouth was slightly ajar due to the sound you let out earlier. From this angle he had the perfect chance to just shove his twitching dick down your throat, he bet it’s warm like the way your body is heating up right now but he brushed it off and continued his work on your chest.

He squeezed the flesh and watched as you hurried to bite your bottom lip, Jaemin thought it was time he went to another part of your body. He made his way to your lower body, he noticed you had on your underwear.

“Would it be okay if I asked you to remove the towel completely? since you have on your undergarments,” Jaemin asked you as he clasped his hands behind his back, staring you down deeply with a sweet smile. You nodded your head, and you gazed down at yourself, seeing your nipples stand up tall and proud, you genuinely felt way more relaxed than when you first came here.

“Wonderful, I enjoy giving pleasure to others who look like they haven’t had a good rest day,” Jaemin discarded the towel away from your body and placed it on the table beside him.

You smiled, you couldn’t conceal it, he was a sweet talker. You begin to shut your eyes and Jaemin starts to rub on your feet, you let out a soft groan, you are on your feet the majority of the time at work so this feels like heaven. He inches up your leg and starts kneading different areas, after some time he asks if you could turn over.

Jaemin has always been a man with excellent self-control but he guesses there’s a first for everything. You turned over on your stomach and Jaemin took that as a sign to take a breather, he looked down at himself and noticed his problem. At this point, he doesn’t know how long he’ll be able to hold it. He gripped himself and let out a soft sigh as he looked down at you, he furrowed his brows as he approached the table once again, contemplating if he should start with the top or lower half first.

Jaemin made up his mind as he poured some oil on your smooth back, you had laid your head on your forearm. Jaemin tenderly massaged your back, working out all sorts of sounds from you, because he’s just that good with his hands.

He finished off with your back and moved to your legs, caressing your soft thighs, eyes settling on the slight jiggle of your plump ass. He looked up at you and delicately spread your legs apart a little as he moved his way to your inner thighs. He observes the way your pussy lips struggle to stay concealed in your baby blue panties, Jaemin bites down on his tongue and took a deep exhale, swallowing down thick as he sees some wetness forming on your underwear, Jaemin continues his task as he boldly inches closer to your prized possession.

You started to squirm, feeling slightly bothered, needy even. You innocently lifted your hips off the table, trying to get some friction and squeeze your thighs together but Jaemin kept them open.

“I thought I told you to relax, If you behave I can easily give you what you want,” Somehow you can hear Jaemin like he was right by your ears and he was, he stood beside you, roughly rubbing the fat muscle of your ass, spreading your cheeks apart and watching them jiggle back in their place.

“Will you look at that,” Jaemin whispers as he takes the bottle of oils and pours some of it over your ass. Jaemin went back to the foot of the table and climbed between your legs.

“What are you doing, Jaemin?” You softly questioned Jaemin as you felt the cushion on the massage table dip under you.

“I’m just trying to get a better position so I can give you an amazing happy ending, love” That tone, he used again but this time it was more sultry and lust-filled, you could almost see the smirk on his face, you have a feeling you know where this is headed and you’re all on board with playing along, note to self buy Seungkwan dinner after you put salt in his coffee.

“Okay, I hope this all was worth the hassle,” You replied knowing damn well it was.

Jaemin bit his lips as he kneaded your ass, he used his knees to spread your legs apart more. He laid on his stomach, inched closer, rubbed his nose on the line of your panty, bit the fat of your ass, and grazed his thumb over your asshole. He dipped his head and licked the outside of your underwear, softly biting your inner thigh.

Your moans began to increase the more he teased you, as if he could read minds he turned you over, wanting to see your face.

“Would you like me to continue?” Jaemin lips started to rise on one side, giving you a teasing smile.

You blushed at his bluntness, “Eat me out Jaemin,”.

Jaemin leaned forward and pulled you by the back of your neck into a rough and sloppy kiss, honestly the best you’ve had. He gently sucked on your tongue and pulled at your hard nipple.

“So fucking sexy,” Jaemin said as he gave you a once over before spreading your legs and giving them for you to hold, he run his hands on the back of your thigh as he examines every inch of you spread out in front of him.

He hooked a finger under your panties and pulled them to the side. You let out a quiet moan as the cold air hit your wet pussy. He pushed your legs back even more so you hooked them behind your head.

“Look at this pretty pussy, so fucking wet,” Jaemin ran his finger around your lips and brought his finger to his mouth, humming about how sweet you tasted. He dipped his head and took a long swipe with his thick tongue.

“Oh fuck,” You let out a relief sign after finally getting some attention, you looked down at Jaemin sucking on your swollen clit that was painfully neglected in months. His head bobbed up and down as he took slow and sensual slurps, making your toes curl and breath hitch.

You started to rock your hip but Jaemin placed his heavy hands on your ass to hold you down, he dipped his head lower and poked his tongue on your asshole, fighting his way in.

“Maybe I’ll have to prep you another time,” Jaemin smirks as makes his way to your gaping hole, sticking his long tongue, and forcing a strained moan out of you. He looked up at you, feeling himself grow even harder if that’s possible, absolutely falling in love with the way he has you a putty just from his tongue, the way you just look so sexy to him like this, pussy all red and angry, juices dripping from his chin, the way you bite your lips to conceal your sexy whimpers.

He groped your breast and brought his attention back to your clit, switching between licking and sucking, completely abusing it. You reached your hand to his head to keep him in position.

“Oh don’t fuckin stop- oh my fucking– shit Jaemin..” You laid your head to the side, one eye clenching as your toe curled for dare life. Jaemin bore his face deeper into your soaking pussy, placing his tongue back inside as his nose rubbed your clit, sending you into cloud nine. He removed his face and quickly replaced it with his skilled hand, he placed his fingers on your clit and started swiping vigorously.

You felt your stomach suck in as you started twitching, you felt like a bucket of water was thrown over you and you woke up from a dream you’d do anything to get back to.

“Yes, look at that, wanna give me more,” Jaemin watched as you completely drenched his arm when you squirted, something you didn’t know you could do until today. He sucked up every last drop causing you overstimulation.

You removed your legs and grabbed his face, bringing him into a passionate kiss. He placed his forehead on yours smiling embarrassingly.

“You definitely have to be my soulmate if you were able to make me come in my pants without touching me,” Jaemin said with a light chuckle.

“I can do that, If you take me out on a date?, we can split the bill since I suggested,” You looked Jaemin deep into his eyes and he blushed slightly.

“I like that idea, but I’ll pay for the bill,” He kissed your lips before getting up from the table.

You both cleaned up and of course exchanged contacts, and it was history from there.

Thank you Seungkwan.

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influenzalake · 1 year ago

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You Know... Damian Wayne x (pregnant?)Reader blurb

tw: pregnancy , she / her pronouns , 500+ words

reader tells Damian they're going to have a baby

- - -

You've been staring at your husband of 6 years for a while. He is hunched over stacks of folders labeled "Top Secret" and after all this time you know not to interrupt him. Plus, it's cute seeing him mumble and scribble when he works. Eventually, he will pause his madness and give you his time. This is how you get his attention when he gets like this. Usually you leave him to his business, but you have a feeling he's going to want to hear what you have to say.

When you hear the click of his pen and the rustling of papers cease your heart starts racing.

Oh Yeah, that what you're here for.

It's now or SOMETIME right?

It-

"Yes, My Love?"

All you can do is keep staring. You keep his attention because his time is valuable, but this news is priceless.

You soften your gaze and walk closer without another word. (Maybe he'll do his Damian Thing and save you the trouble? He's a detective isn't he?)

The nerves are starting to show anyway, your hands just can't stop shaking! You look away in embarrassment as your body betrays you and now Damian knows it's serious.

You sit down and take a breath to speak, but make the mistake of finding those deep green eyes. The air you once had disappears spontaneously and another wave of nerves hits. You speak hastily as to not alarm Damian any further, but what comes out isn't exactly what you planned...

" I... You know I've .. always admired how you ... carry yourself Damian."

Damian gives you a confused expression. Not what he was expecting, but he allows you to continue without distraction.

"Your body is strong and ... can carry .. and hold a lot!"

Okay, now he's actually just confused.

"Yes. I'm ... I love most is your arms."

*Okayyy, so she did all this- to talk about my arms?*, Damian thinks

"So strong... they can hold me and- others too."

You start getting more comfortable in the real subject of the matter. You reach up to grace your hands on Damian's shoulders.

"You can hold and carry me and others of different ages..."

Damian is getting anxious now, what is she talking about, specifically? How does this relate to his musculature? Why was she so nervous to speak to him?

You decide to finish this dance in one move. From the shoulders you run your hands down his toned arms. Slowly you find his palms and, without breaking his gaze, bring his hands to your lower belly.

"I'm Pregnant."

...

You see his eyes pop and you swear you can feel his heart skip a beat from the pulses on his wrist. He turns down to look at his hands and you follow suit. Now it's his turn to stare and have shaky hands. His eyes are intense and his skin is stressed to have every bit of surface area on your womb. You lean back more and give him some time to process. When he's ready, he will let you know just like he always does~

#damian wayne #batman #x reader #fanfiction #pregnant reader #pregnant #tw

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al-the-remix · 1 year ago

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TikTok Chef!Buck AU: several sentences sunday (or something like that)

I'm close to finishing the fic I've been working on so I finally felt like I could write a little something based off this headcannon without feeling too guilty about it, lol. 2k of mostly crack, please enjoy.

It all starts when Tommy’s stuck on his couch for a week with a sprained knee. He wishes he could claim it happened doing something heroic–or at the very least badass–but in truth it was the result of letting his ego get the best of him at the squat rack.

Lucy stops by a few times to keep him company, which really means letting herself in unannounced with her spare key, eating all the leftovers in his fridge, and offering an unsolicited running critique of whatever show he’s watching. Today it was Below Deck reruns.

“If I ever decide to take a vacation on a boat, tackle me, this shit does not look worth it.”

“You really don’t have to be here you know,” Tommy says, leaning over to grab some chips from the near-empty bag she was cradling before they were all gone. He’d been looking forward to eating those for dinner and feeling sorry for himself.

Lucy just snorts. “Please, if I wasn’t here you’d already be up to something ill advised. I caught you looking up deck chair patterns earlier, power tools don’t go well with injuries, Tommy, even if it’s only carpentry.”

Well, she had him there.

At least she had the decency to order them Chinese take out for dinner so he wouldn’t have to Instacart a can of soup or something equally pathetic.

Before she left she made a grabby hand at him. “Give me your phone.”

“Why?” Tommy asks, already suspicious.

She met his suspicion with boredom. “Don’t ask stupid questions, just do it.”

Rolling his eyes, he hands it over, giving into her whim, and maybe he should find it a little more unsettling that she already seems to know his password off by heart.

She clicks around for long enough that Tommy starts getting nervous: what was the last text message he sent? Was it embarrassing? Were all his nudes still in that locked folder? Did she know the password for that too? Just when he was going to start asking questions she tosses his phone back. “Here, this should keep you entertained for a while,” she explains as he scrambles to catch it. “My niece wastes hours of her life on this crap.”

“Such ringing endorsement,” Tomy grumbles, she’s downloaded some kind of video app onto his phone. TikTok. Perfect. He’d heard of that one, apparently it was single handedly ruining a whole generation’s attention span and the Chinese government was using it to spy on the inner lives of teenagers with stupid haircuts and a critical lack of social skills.

“Are you sure you didn’t just give me some kind of virus?” Tommy asks, clicking around the home page arbitrarily, the UI didn’t make a lick of sense.

“Har, har. You were always good at picking up new skills, I’m sure you’ll figure this out in no time. I have faith in you,” she says, clapping him hard enough on the shoulder to make him wince.

He finds his profile page by total mistake. His username reads: benchedcockwrangler.

“How do I change this?” he asks, waving his phone at her as she makes for the door.

“You don’t,” she says, without looking back. “Don’t stay up on that thing all night, it will ruin your sleep schedule!”

Tommy winces as the front door slams and sighs. He’ll figure out how to change it later. After all, beggars can’t be choosers and three days into his mandatory medical leave he’s already so bored he’s ready to stab his eyes out with hot pokers just to mix it up a bit.

He scrolls through the app, and based on most of what he sees he finds himself unable to justify its existence in the first place. It feels like every video he watches drags him into a deeper alternate universe where everyone’s wholeheartedly competing for the top of the podium at the Darwin Awards.

There’s a woman digging tunnels under her apartment that Tommy is positive are not up to code (that’s a call just waiting to happen); and two young ladies mixing cocktails of a concerning hue and variety at random local establishments (not necessarily anything that would warrant a trip to the ER but potentially a health code violation); and what seems like an ungodly number of men hosting podcasts (Tommy is pretty sure that even during his darkest days rotting in the closet he had a better batting average picking up women than any of these bozos.)

Tommy’s eyes start to glaze over as he scrolls past comedians, and political commentators, and people reviewing romance novels, and–how has it already been forty minutes?

He’s about ready to give up and throw his phone across the room and leave it there until Lucy shows up tomorrow and he can make her delete it off his phone, when catchy music, an arm roped with muscle, and a criminally tight shirt sleeve catches his attention.

It’s some kind of cooking video and his first impression is: how is anyone supposed to understand what’s going on with edits that fast? His second impression is: hot man. Man hot.

Soon his brain is catching up with his eyes, kickstarting like a toddler being exposed to sugar for the first time.

Cooking might be a generous description for what’s going on here. The man is obviously skilled, but the main focus of the video seems to be how hot he looks in an apron (very) and whether it’s possible to bring half a peach to completion by finger blasting the pit out of it (not like, whether or not you should pre-bake your tart crust to achieve an ideal texture).

Tommy has to watch it twice just to fully absorb everything that’s going on. He’s making some kind of deconstructed peach crumble topped with an obscene amount of whipped cream and steak with fries that looks fancier than anything Tommy’s ever eaten at a restaurant.

Half way through the video the man wipes down the worktop shirtless with a cloth sudsy enough to make Tommy’s mouth go instantly dry then suddenly wet enough he’s forced to swallow.

He clicks through to ChefFirehose’s profile just to, you know, get a better sample size. Tommy’s not above letting himself be manipulated by a man with biceps like melons and a cute smile.

His profile description reads: LA resident, self-taught, putting out fires and saving lives in my spare time. Just here to give the food the appreciation it deserves. Let me show off for you 😉.

Tommy thinks this guy must be new to town, because living nearly a decade even in a city as sprawling and overcrowded as LA, he doesn’t know how he could miss running into this guy on the job. There was no way he wouldn’t remember a guy this hot even through turnouts, a helmet, and smeared in a thick layer of soot.

He starts working his way back through ChefFirehose’s videos, and some are admittedly a little less chaotic than the rest, but all of them are just tongue-and-cheek enough that Tommy feels confident he’s just one in close to a million people in on a joke and not enabling someone’s very real personality disorder.

He’s stuck somewhere between disbelief and admiration. He definitely wouldn't have the balls to post this on the internet for everyone to see and so obviously thirst over. He braves the comment section on a few of the videos and it’s just a litany of horned-up men and women trying their best to make ChefFirehose laugh, or get in his pants, or both. He replies to almost all of his comments with either a smirking emoji or acting deliberately oblivious when someone tries to bait him into giving up the bit. Tommy finds him funny and maybe a little more endearing than he should after ten videos.

Tommy can’t really blame them for trying to shoot their shot so shamelessly. ChefFirehose’s wardrobe consists of polos plastered so tight to his skin that Tommy was mildly concerned about restricted blood circulation, dress shirts buttoned dangerously low, and slacks that wrap snugly around miles of long, toned leg.

Those weren’t Tommy’s favorite looks though. No, every so often a video would start and he’s be dressed down in soft looking sweatpants, a baseball cap pushed on backwards plastering his auburn curls to his forehead, and a white tank top–or if Tommy was really lucky, no shirt at all (sometimes not even the apron which Tommy had mixed feelings about...), his muscled arms and shoulders on full display. He’s got tattoos decorating his forearms that Tommy can’t quite make out, a collection of fine lines on pale skin like thin ribbons of chocolate drizzled over a crape.

Those videos are most often breakfast related and ChefFirehose is barefoot in his kitchen, the warm sunlight casting his face in gold. He paints such an enticing tableau it’s all too easy for Tommy’s brain to plop himself right down in that scene, imagination running wild. He can so easily picture what it would be like: in that kitchen, feeling the warm cast of sun on his face and getting to watch built, handsome man make him breakfast with that flirty confidence of his.

Tommy bookmarks a video of him making an omelet, the way he handles the eggs making Tommy blush like he’s a schoolgirl and not a man pushing forty. He feels less guilty about getting hard over it on the sofa surrounded by takeout containers than he probably should.

The screen goes suddenly black and Tommy’s faced with his own reflection in the finger smudged screen, chin rolls and all. Fuck. He reaches for his charger. God, his life was depressing at the moment, and apparently he really needs to get laid.

So yeah, by the time his two weeks of recovery are up he’s feeling a little stir crazy in an entirely different way than before. He’s never been more glad to get back to work, put some of this weirdness behind him and get some much needed distance from his phone.

That’s only part of the reason why he doesn’t even think twice when Howie calls him for a favor. A big favor. And that was only the first of many surprises the universe had in store for him, apparently.

Even fully clothed in his LFD uniform Tommy recognises him. Evan. Evan, Evan, Evan, (Tommy repeats over and over in his head until it drowns out every other name Tommy’s assigned him the past few weeks: slutty egg guy, ChefBigDick, totally off limits boyfriend material–just to name a few).

“So you’re the guy who’s gonna fly us into a hurricane.” Evan sounds a little breathless, like maybe he jogged all the way here, and Tommy chalks it up to the high that accompanies stealing government property. “Chim said you were the best pilot he knows and good in a pinch, but I still thought there was no way anyone that good would agree to something this crazy.”

Tommy’s definitely starting to feel a little crazy. Evan’s still shaking his hand. His grip is solid, his fingers long and nimble, surprisingly soft against this palm (he must really lather on the hand lotion) and Tommy can’t stop thinking about all the talented things he knows they can do.

“That’s me. Though I’m pretty sure I’m just the only pilot Howie knows who's in town at the moment.”

“You look good to me–capable, I mean.” Evan gives him a solid smack on the shoulder with his free hand. His mouth does something funny like he's trying to hold back the sheer force of his excitement by his teeth. “Solid.”

His eyes are even bigger and brighter in person, smile softer, even taller than Tommy presumed. Howie’s giving them a weird look from over Evan’s shoulder. The other man with them, Eddie, isn’t paying them any attention, checking out the other helicopters parked on the apron instead, and Tommy forces himself to pull his hand out of Evan’s warm grip.

Tommy clears his throat. “Good to know. I’ll show you guys the bird we’ll be taking. I've got her all gassed up and ready to go.”

He just met his (internet) celebrity crush and the man of his dreams, and now Tommy was going to get him killed in one of the most spectacular ways imaginable. It seems like they’re all headed for the Darwin Awards this time.

#bucktommy #mine #sorry this is kinda rough #please excuse any spelling errors

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farfromstrange · 2 years ago

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Do No Harm

CHAPTER TWO: Imposter Syndrome

Masterlist | Series Masterlist

Pairing: Matt Murdock x F!Reader

Summary: You've been trying your hardest to focus on your work, but there is something else that is bothering you. Claire decides to give you a call and check up on you. It seems like both of you are keeping secrets of your own, and then there is this handsome lawyer who refuses to leave your mind after he quite literally burst your little bubble of solitude...

Warnings for this chapter: Slight angst, mentions of domestic violence, Reader's POV, use of reader's fake name

Word Count: 4.3k

A/n: It took me a few tries to finish this chapter because I couldn't, for the life of me, settle on a plot, but I think I've got it figured out now. I didn't do the classic "this scene from another POV", I switched it up a bit, so what happened in chapter one isn't repeated word for word. I think it flows better like this. I hope you guys like it, and thank you for your support so far! I really appreciate it.

Read Chapter 2: Imposter Syndrome on AO3.

The human body holds up to six liters of blood. Without saline or a blood transfusion, losing more than two liters can be fatal—and every drop lost after that decreases your chance of survival. A paper cut won’t kill you, but a gunshot wound might. It’s a simple equation that doesn’t require a medical degree to solve.

If the human body experiences trauma though, everything is on the line. A nicked vessel or artery can lead to a bloodbath. Trauma to any of the major organs can lead to internal bleeding and cause the body to suffer fatal consequences. You could lose too much blood too fast, or the blood could travel to your brain, and you could herniate.

Depending on the place of injury, trauma can lead to a large number of complications that are therefore a threat to life. But it’s not just blood that the human body needs to survive; oxygen is another vital player in the game against time. Without it, the brain dies, and if the brain is dead, there is nothing anyone can do to bring you back.

Many things could kill a human being, and many complications could occur in a split second, and that makes trauma an unpredictable event.

Your fingers instantly stop moving over the keys of your computer when the black phone on your desk starts screaming. At first, your eyes switch to your phone, but you have any non-emergent calls silenced. That explains it.

You flinch. You suddenly become painfully aware of the city’s lights shining on you from behind, the blue light of your laptop illuminating your face and causing your pupils to shrink, and the bulb in your desk lamp that is flickering every so often, reminding you that you need to switch it sometime soon.

You pinch the bridge of your nose, then press the acceptance button. You answer the phone. “This is Doctor Clarke at Metro General,” you say. “How can I help you?”

“Jesus,” the familiar voice reaches your ears, and you let out an almost annoyed sigh. “You sound like hell,” Claire answers.

“And you don’t sound sick,” you retort.

You aren’t sure what to make of her sudden mystery illness, or why she didn’t tell you and you had to find out from the hospital administrator who was losing it over the fact that her favorite nurse called out sick that morning.

The phone goes silent for a short moment before she says, “It’s complicated.”

“Hey, we all need sick days sometimes,” you shrug. “Just took us all by surprise, is all.”

“Are you trying to turn this around on me so we won’t have to talk about you?”

Your lips part in a dry chuckle. “Is this about me?” you ask, even though you know very well that it is. You’re the one trying to deflect.

“You silenced your phone.”

With another sigh, you push the stack of papers you’ve been working on aside and take the next folder from the pile. “I’m fine.” You hold the X-ray picture up to the light, squinting your eyes. “Just... splendid, yeah. You want me to do a psych eval? Urine sample? My social security number?”

You can physically hear her roll her eyes at your comment. “Can’t I just be worried about you without you taking it like a personal attack?”

It’s a loaded, rhetorical question asked in a tone that you are more than familiar with. It is a train wreck waiting to happen, but Claire is your friend—a very caring friend, too—and she hardly ever lets loose when she wants to know something.

She knows you better than anyone, after all. She knows everything, even the parts you swore to never talk about again—parts you swore you would take to the grave.

That is the purpose of a new life, isn’t it? Forgetting the past ever happened, then moving on? If that could actually heal trauma, life would be so much easier. Unfortunately, denial tends to make the wounds bleed faster. You will die faster if you keep it all bottled up, but it’s easier said than done when it comes to reality. Sometimes, denial is the only luxury you can afford for yourself, even if it slowly kills you.

You have seen your fair share of traumatic injuries pass in and out of the emergency room over the years. Not just physically but mentally as well. There is only a small margin of error in an even smaller time frame in which traumatic injuries can be treated without lifelong consequences. The scars though, they remain forever.

“Look,” Claire continues softly, “I’m worried about you. I know you hate talking about yourself, but every once in a while, I have to make sure you’re alright and not... falling apart or something.”

You swallow thickly, the lump slowly starting to hurt your esophagus. “Why would I be falling apart?” you question, but your voice no longer has the same level of conviction in it.

Feigned confidence doesn’t go a very long way, you’ve noticed. You can’t stand your ground when you don’t believe in where you’re standing.

“A little birdy told me you had a bad day. That’s why.”

In the halls of a hospital—any hospital—word travels faster than lightning. You roll your eyes, but you don’t know what to say. She isn’t wrong. You did have a bad day. Your blood is still boiling. Everything in you feels a hundred pounds heavier. You may not be falling apart because there is not much of a foundation left to fall apart, but the feeling is eerily similar.

You used to be a beloved surgeon at a prestigious hospital for all five years of your residency, but with each year that passed, what had once been just a spark turned into gigantic flames that slowly began torching your skin. They burned your flesh and dragged it down to your fragile bones. Your body went into shock over the years. You became septic. And it almost killed you, too.

Your heart froze in place before it miserably cracked. It didn’t take long before the inferno took over every last crevice of your life. It burnt out everything that was remotely good for you. You were so dependent on something—someone—that was slowly poisoning you.

You ran for months. You moved from State to State, you changed your name and your whole identity twice. You tried everything to get away, but your demons kept haunting you. The distance between you and your old life grew bigger until eventually, you reached the other side of the country, hundreds of miles from the hell you escaped from. There was nothing left in your past to exist for, so you became someone else. You lost yourself and gained a stranger’s identity in return. Someone who wasn’t scarred from a battle that she almost fully lost.

You thought it would be easy to pretend to be someone else, someone without the same wounds that have been inflicted on you, but that turned out to be the wrong thing to believe.

Claire’s voice rings out again. “What’s going on with you, Liv?” she asks.

You’re not really present at the moment, but this time, you hear her.

You shake your head. “Nothing.” It’s a blatant lie, but it rolls over your tongue so easily, you are tempted to believe it yourself before your friend even can.

“You keep zoning out,” she says. “You’re not helping your case.”

“It’s been a long day, that’s all. What’s going on with you?”

Her lips part in a soft exhale. You hit the nail right on the head. “Nothing’s going on with me. I just had to take a sick day. Migraines, you know? I get them sometimes.”

You don’t buy it. Her voice sounds strained, but more like she is forcing herself to sound sicker than she is. Not that you are allowed to judge, it simply strikes you as odd, considering that she isn’t usually like this, and it makes you wonder what else she is keeping from you.

A pregnant pause follows. “I heard about the girl,” Claire says then, changing the subject. You’re both way too good at that. You’re hypocrites.

“Annie,” you cut her off. “Her name’s—was Annie.”

You keep replaying it over and over in your mind. From the moment you received the page to the ER to the little girl landing on your operating table, you retrace all of your steps. You rethink every decision you made, every uttered order, every cut, and every stitch. Every time you do, you come up empty.

Annie was six years old. She got hit by an oncoming car. It was a gruesome sight, but you kept telling yourself that it could have been worse. She was stabilizing when you took her to the operating room. All the tests suggested that controlling the damage could buy some valuable time for the specialists to do their jobs. In your mind, the path was clear to a full recovery.

Everything you did to save her life ended up doing absolutely nothing.

It elicited a feeling that you are more than used to—inadequacy. You know that it is utterly selfish to think that way; this isn’t even about you. The feeling wraps like a noose around your heart, but you can’t allow yourself to make this about you. You’re not that type of person.

Claire takes your silence as an answer. “I logged into the hospital server and took a look at the X-rays,” she says. “That aortic tear was irreparable, as much for you as it would’ve been for the world’s best cardiothoracic surgeon. This wasn’t your fault.”

Your throat tightens. “You don’t know that,” you argue. “I could have caught it earlier. I could’ve… I could’ve done something.”

“No, Liv, you couldn’t have. But I think you know that.”

You search the depths of your mind for the right words to say, but you come up with none. “Who blabbed, anyway?” you ask.

In this case, though, the question is, who didn’t? Everyone must have heard about Annie by now, and the people around you care too much. It was bound to reach Claire’s ears eventually. You just didn’t think it would happen so soon.

Claire holds off on her answer for a moment. “Doesn’t matter,” she answers. It’s the kindest choice. “What matters is that you can’t beat yourself up for something that wasn’t your fault.” Her voice suggests that she’s smiling.

“I…I’m fine,” you lie.

“I know you’re not.”

“You’re the one who called in sick but clearly isn’t. You don’t see me bugging you about it.”

That shuts her up for a moment. “This isn’t about me,” Claire tries to talk herself out of it, but you see right through her.

“Are you sure?” you ask.

“I—” She sighs. “I promise you, if there was something going on, I’d tell you.”

You should return the sentiment. You should tell her what you’re really thinking, but you’re mute. When it comes to your own feelings, all words in the English dictionary elude you.

Still, the feeling that Claire is lying to you keeps eating away at you. She has no reason to. Or maybe she has, but it’s none of your business. You’re curious, maybe a little worried, but you can’t expect her to tell you every little thing about her life and then refuse to do the same because you can’t possibly ask for help with something you don’t even understand yourself.

You’re miserable enough as it is. You would rather suffer through it alone than bother her with your chronic overthinking and the fear of failure.

“I’m still cat-sitting for Jenny,” she breaks you out of your thoughts.

You chuckle slightly. “But you’re allergic to cats,” you say.

“I know, but…” She stops herself. “The point is, I still have an almost full bottle of white wine in the fridge and there’s this deliciously cheap pizza place around the corner. Their breadsticks are to die for, trust me. You could come over after your shift and we could look after that stupid cat together. Maybe. Just until we both feel better.”

Until you both feel better. You feel like it would take more than wine and pizza to make you feel better.

You need to sulk. You need to marinate in your misery. That way, you can suck it up and be better next time. Everything else seems like too much of a waste of time.

You shatter what little hope she had about you agreeing to her offer like a full wine glass on a white cloth, sure to leave stains. Your hand momentarily motions toward the stack of paperwork, but then you remember that she can’t see over the phone. “I wish I could,” you say, “but I have to finish my surgical reports by tomorrow.”

Claire nods slowly. “Are you sure it’s the paperwork?”

“I promise.”

She accepts defeat. She can’t change your mind. You’re stubborn, determined, and a pain in the ass most of the time. She still loves you, but she has long given up on forcing you out of your shell.

Sometimes, which is more often than not, you prefer to be miserable because you have no idea how to be anything else.

“Well, I tried. So… at least call me if you need anything,” she says.

You offer her a smile, but it doesn’t quite reach your eyes. You’re tired. Your heart is pounding from all the caffeine and the frustration of the unknown. You have paperwork. As long as you have paperwork, you’re occupied. It’s as good a reason to avoid talking about anything that could be considered even remotely personal.

“Thank you, Claire. For everything,” your voice is barely above a whisper. “Take care of yourself. I’ll talk to you later.”

You hate that you’re like this, but you can’t change who you are now or what all those years of suffering have made out of you. You can’t change the fact that underneath Olivia Clarke, it is not who you are. And it will never be who you are because her identity is a fraud.

You may have escaped the worst time of your life and traded it for a fresh start, but that doesn’t take away the paralyzing fear that still sits deep in your bones, making it impossible for you to sleep at night. It may be a fresh start to a new life, but the slate is far from clean. There are bloodstains that you can’t get out. Stains that will haunt you forever.

Every day and every night that you spend at the hospital, you’re reminded of the terrible past that threatens to overshadow your future whenever you set foot outside. Your name may be Olivia Clarke, but that will never be your real name, no matter how badly you try to pretend it to be. And on some days, it breaks you just a little more when you fail at the one thing you have always excelled at. The one thing you have dedicated your life to. To do something good, to be worth something, and to prove the cruel monsters in your mind wrong about their assessment of you.

You don’t want to be a coward. You don’t want to be weak. You don’t want to be dependent on anything or anyone ever again. You forgot how to be happy. You became someone you’re not because the person you used to be was broken by someone she thought she could trust.

He took everything from you, and he took all that you are. Olivia was never taken advantage of.

Claire saved your life. She knows the truth, but facts aren’t enough. She’s your only support system, the only one who knows who you truly are, deep down, and yet she knows nothing at all.

Long after you’ve hung up the phone, you start wandering the halls of Metro General. You haven’t quite figured out what you’re looking for yet. You want to be alone. You want to be not needed. You want to exist somewhere that isn’t here. And you don’t want to be found, just for a little while.

When you get settled on an empty bed in one of internal medicine’s abandoned hallways that had to be emptied after severe budget cuts affected the hospital, the tears start pouring out without warning. You barely manage to stifle the sobs that slip past your lips. You hate crying. You used to believe that it was a sign of weakness, but tears have become as much of a partner in crime to you as the pain has.

It’s not as easy as it used to be to hold all of those treacherous feelings in—feelings you don’t even understand yourself—and that makes you hate yourself enough to cry even harder. Because you try, try, and you try even harder as you give all of yourself over and over again to be someone you never thought you would turn into, and still, you find yourself failing more times than you could possibly count.

Your life ended when you met the man who ruined you; ever since then, you have only been a shell of the person you used to be, and there is seemingly nothing you can do about it other than accept that Olivia Clarke is who you are now, and she is all you can be.

You didn’t expect another lonely soul in need of an escape to find his way to your little haven. This hallway isn’t even on the hospital map anymore, but he still somehow found his way here.

Your eyes switch to his cane, the red glasses, and the way he so awkwardly carries himself when he seems to realize that he, in fact, isn’t alone. You know that feeling of instant disappointment all too well, and he just caught you crying, which only makes matters worse.

After the initial awkwardness has dissipated and you get to talking, you take a moment to appreciate him. His name is Matthew. He is a defense attorney. He is unlike any man you’ve ever met before. You’re cautious when it comes to new people, but there is something almost calm about him. He’s funny, charming, and he’s respectful. He made you feel comfortable from the start.

There is a mystery surrounding him. You know all about mysteries. They draw you in. They make you feel less alone in a way. He is the biggest one you have encountered so far.

People tend to consider you an enigma, too. Most of them are wary of you because you barely share anything about yourself. You’re still learning, even after two years, to be someone new. You’re constantly reinventing yourself because all you were before is gone now. You lost yourself in the fire. So, most people you meet don’t talk much when they do; you’ve gotten used to having only one friend. It keeps your identity safe, as guarded as you are. It’s the safest bet for everyone involved—or everyone not involved.

Matthew is different. He seems genuinely curious, but he doesn’t pry. And that makes you open yourself up to him, even if it is just your body language. He’s sitting right next to you, his calm voice like a gentle symphony in your ear. He serenades you every time he speaks. That is a dangerous quality. He’s an attractive man, and you can’t keep your eyes off of him. You can’t stop listening. He’s like a work of art—a damaged work of art.

The man before you is broken and bruised. That’s what makes him so mysterious. The hesitation you showed when he introduced himself, indirectly asking for a piece of you in return, shows when you ask about his injuries.

You have seen all kinds of injuries, including those on a blind man who fell down the stairs. Matthew doesn’t fit the profile, and that only makes him more mysterious and therefore more interesting to you.

You have to stop yourself before you ask too many questions. You don’t want to push him away, but you also can’t draw him in. You can be nice, but that is as far as you are willing to go. You hold your walls so high that no one can break through them, no matter how fascinating or attractive they are.

Matthew is a dangerous man because he makes you feel things that you have long told yourself never to feel again. But it’s hard when he makes it so easy to like him.

You patch him up. It’s not just professional courtesy; he seems like he desperately needs someone to look after him. You are being nice to him, that is all. You keep telling yourself the same thing.

You’re still disappointed when you get paged to the emergency room and you have to leave him behind. The chances that you will see him again are low, and they shrink to zero when you return to the hallway four hours later and find it dark and empty again. The plastic packaging of the bandages you used on him is still lying around, but that is all that is left of him. All you have is a memory of a very unexpected encounter that will probably never occur again.

But maybe that isn’t such a bad thing, after all. At least like this, you can’t make the mistake of falling for a guy claiming to be nice. At least like this, you can keep your fragile and already broken heart safe from enduring the same kind of pain ever again.

You pass the nurse’s station in the emergency room on your way out. Dropping the chart of your last patient on the counter, you wish everyone a good night.

“Liv, before you leave–” One of the senior nurses stops you dead in your tracks, “Someone left a card for you,” she says.

You turn around, frowning at her. “A card?” you ask. “Who did?”

Her lips curl into a mischievous smile. “Handsome fella. And he had good manners.”

Your mind reels. There are only a handful of people that would fit that description. Every time someone leaves something behind for you, your first response is to panic. Your blood pressure spikes. You can feel your heart beating up to your throat and your vision blurs. You’re not a fan of the suspense or knowing grins, and it’s obvious.

The nurse’s smile fades and she rummages through the stack of papers next to the computer. “He only knew your first name and his blindness made it a bit harder to figure out who he was talking about, but thankfully we only have one excellent trauma surgeon named Olivia,” she says, her eyes still twinkling. She can’t help it.

You let out an audible exhale. Your body relaxes. Your heart rate slows down. You can finally see her clearly again, and she slides the card across the counter for you to take. You want to apologize for the hostility, but her face tells you that she understands.

The next time your heart starts beating faster, it isn’t out of panic. You look down at the names on the card and the distinctive number on the back, and your brain releases a sudden rush of dopamine. It’s late, you’re tired, but somehow this little gesture puts a surprising smile on your face.

You shouldn’t be as excited as you are. Your plan for this evening has been tossed far out of the window in an instant.

“So,” the nurse asks, “who is he? A patient? A friend?” She wiggles her eyebrows. “A guy from Hinge?”

You shake your head. “Just… a guy I met,” you answer.

If he were an official patient, this would be highly unethical and you would have to toss his number into the nearest trash can.

The blood has permanently settled into your cheeks. You’re not usually the kind of person who blushes. It’s infuriating.

With a chuckle, she leans over. “Well, either way, the guy was smoking. Said you should give him a call. I hope for your sake that you do.”

You keep twisting and turning the card. “What else did he say?”

“Not much. Just said that I should give this to you and that you should call him if you want. You must’ve made quite the impression.”

Your teeth dig into your bottom lip. You would’ve never suspected this. You are essentially still a stranger to him, and he still left you his number. He wants you to call him.

It makes no sense, and yet it flatters you like nothing has in quite a while.

You let out a soft sigh before stuffing the card into the pocket of your coat. Looking up, you meet the nurse’s curious eyes.

Your mind is taking its time to process your thoughts and the feelings connected to your thoughts.

She chuckles at the bewildered look in your eyes. You must look like a fool. “Where does one meet a specimen like that anyway, if you don’t mind me asking?” she says. “‘Cause I desperately need me one of those.”

A beat of silence follows. Then, you wet your lips and answer, “Abandoned hallways. Way more effective than Hinge, apparently.”

The subtle joke makes her laugh. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

You put in the effort to fake a smile with your nod. “Well, thank you,” you say. “You guys have a good shift. If you need anything, page me.”

“Will do,” she says. The other nurses nod. Of course, they listened in on your conversation.

With another small wave in their general direction, you make your way outside into the cool night air. You retrieve the business card from your coat, your eyes roaming over the names carefully printed on it, and the Braille that has been added for obvious reasons.

Nelson & Murdock. Attorneys at law.

From what he told you, this is probably the only somewhat expensive thing he and his partner afforded for a semi-successful marketing plan for their practice. It almost makes you chuckle.

Matt Murdock is a very fascinating man, though as you stare at the card and the number on the back you can’t help but feel a slight hint of unease bubble up in your chest, and you ask yourself, what did you get yourself into?

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#matt murdock #matt murdock x reader #matt murdock x f!reader #matt murdock angst #daredevil #matt murdock x you #daredevil x reader #matt murdock fluff #reader insert #matt murdock fic #doctor!reader #medical drama #matt murdock imagines #charlie cox #do no harm

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tozieresk · 21 days ago

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𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧 ⤑ the test, chapter four

read chapter one here

read chapter three here

“Y’know, before this, I kinda thought you hated me.” He stares down at the slice of Pizza in his hands as Eddie’s eyes widen, slowly turning his head.

“What? Why would you think that?”

When Eddie gets home from Family Video, he does something that would make his uncle consider an exorcism; he starts cleaning the trailer.

Now, Eddie is not a dirty person. He won’t leave dirty underwear lying around, and all dishes immediately go in the sink. He dusts his trinkets regularly enough and he cleans up any stains and spills. He also doesn’t go more than two days without taking a shower and he puts on deodorant every morning.

This, however, does not mean that he is not a messy person. Instead of dirty underwear he leaves T-shirts on the floor that he should probably put back in his dresser. Papers of doodles and scribbles and notes are lying on every flat surface in his room, even on the floor next to his bed. He’s been meaning to buy a bookshelf ever since he moved in with Wayne but never got around to it, which means there are piles of books in every corner of the room.

The living room isn’t much better, considering Wayne and him are flesh and blood. Newspapers are stacking up on top of each other on the living room table, and there’s unorganized folders lying around everywhere he can look, with Wayne hastily looking through each one with no rhyme or reason whenever he needs a document, not bothering to put them back into the cupboard once he finds what he’s looking for.

They never had to keep the trailer clean. The only people who ever came by were people looking for stronger drugs, and Eddie didn’t really care what those people thought about his living conditions. They had bigger fish to fry. But he does care what Steve thinks. Even if this entire situation was only some stupid experiment to put Steve’s good guy status to the test, he would like to stay friends with the guy afterwards without having him think he’s trailer trash.

Eddie starts in the living spaces; putting all the folders back into their designated cupboards and trying to find the right places to put the stray files Wayne left on the kitchen counter. He quickly throws away all of Wayne’s newspapers, which he’s probably gonna be angry about, but he can deal. Then he does the dishes and carefully puts them where they belong.

His room is a bit harder to deal with. He ends up throwing all the laundry in his dresser without folding them or organizing them in the slightest. His papers all get crammed into his desk, which he slightly winces at. He just knows he’s gonna end up throwing all of it back onto the floor once he needs something, but he doesn’t have time to care right now.

Eddie desperately tries to come up with some place he can store his books, but comes up short. He settles for straightening up the existing piles and picking up those that fell over.

Halfway through changing his bed sheets, Eddie realizes that what he’s doing isn’t necessary at all because there’s no TV in his room and Steve wouldn’t have a reason to enter it. He finishes putting on new bed sheets with a frown on his face. At least he’s prepared in case Steve asks to see his room.

After he’s done he goes to take a shower, even though he knows it’s stupid because this is not a real date. While washing his hair, he laughs at the thought of Steve reacting to his shower routine, with his perfect hair that probably takes him an hour and several products to master. In comparison, Eddie’s 3-in-1 bottle would probably send the guy into shock.

Once he’s dried off, he sits himself down and glances at the clock on the wall. It’s currently 7:35, so he’s got another 25 minutes to kill. He starts fidgeting with his rings.

Looks back at the clock. 7:38. Continues playing with his jewelry, moving up to his bracelets. Places his eyes back up to the wall.

7:40. Decides to put the movie into the VHS player already. Gives the clock another glance. 7:42.

Starts dusting off Wayne’s mug collection. Looks at the time. 7:48.

Picks up the book he’s currently reading. Goes through one page before realizing that he’s too nervous to comprehend anything. Another glance at the clock. 7:53.

Sits back on the couch. Considers ordering the pizza already, but decides against it in case he gets something Steve doesn’t like. Looks at the familiar spot on the wall. 7:56

Decides to wait it out until Steve gets arrives. Spaces out while staring at the front door. When he snaps himself out of it, he looks at the clock once more. 8:03.

Shit, did Steve knock and Eddie was too in his own world to hear it? He goes to open the front door to check, but there’s no sign of Steve or his car. He goes back inside and stands directly in front of the entrance. He doesn’t really know what to do with himself, so he goes to the window next to the front door and peaks through the blinds.

He watches the empty streets of the trailer park right up until he hears the familiar screech of Steve’s car. He startles himself and basically stumbles all the way back to the couch, landing with a painful crack that can only mean Wayne will soon have to buy a new one, but he tries not to worry about it too much right now.

When Steve knocks, Eddie waits exactly five seconds (yes, he counted) before going to answer. Once he sees him, he leans against the side of the door frame and grins with his teeth.

“Stevie! You made it!” He throws his left arm in the air in faux excitement, which isn’t really faux at all.

Steve grins back, giving a quick exhale through his nose at Eddie’s antics. “Of course. Sorry I’m late, I got us a six pack and the line was a little longer than expected.” he taps his right fingers on the cans of beer he’s carrying under his arm.

Stepping back from the door frame, Eddie invites Steve to step in to the trailer. “Oh, you’re late? Sorry, I forgot to check the time. I was just reading.” With Steve’s back turned to him, Eddie winces at his own words. The lie doesn’t even sound convincing to himself. Why is he even lying? The point is to flirt, Eddie! Not play hard to get! He tries reminding himself.

Once both were in the living room and the front door is shut, Eddie puts himself back on the couch, a lot more careful than previously.

“So, big boy, what’d ya wanna eat? Pepperoni Pizza?” he pats the spot on the couch next to him, inviting Steve to sit down. He does so after gently putting the six pack on the coffee table.

Steve just shrugs. “’m not too picky.” He looks a little flustered, and can’t seem to be able to look Eddie in the eyes.

Eddie quirks his brow, but otherwise remains silent. The phone sits on a little table next to Steve’s side on the couch, so instead of standing up and walking to it like a normal person, he bends himself over Steve’s lap, the only things stopping him from laying on top of him being his knees and his left hand.

It’s an uncomfortable position to be making a phone call in, let alone dial a number, but he feels Steve’s entire body freeze up and sees one of his hands halt over his waist. Eddie’s heart rate picks up at the promise of feeling the other man’s touch, but just as he finishes dialing the number, Steve drops his hand on the couch, away from the heat radiating from his body.

Once he’s done ordering, he sits up straight and drops himself much closer to Steve than before. Their thighs weren’t quite touching, but he could knock their knees together if he wanted. Which he kinda does.

Steve clears his throat before he starts speaking. “So, you ready to watch the best movie ever made?”

“Oh shit, you changed your mind? We’re not watching The Breakfast Club?” Eddie fakes a gasp.

The other boy knocks his elbow against Eddie’s rib cage and laughs. “Don’t be a dick! I don’t even understand what you have against that movie. Isn’t it totally up to your speed? Defying the labels people put on you in high school? Exploring the depth of characters that seem superficial? That’s, like, your whole thing!” As he says it, Steve throws his arms around dramatically, imitating Eddie’s mannerisms.

“I mean, yeah, the message is nice I guess, but it’s poorly executed! I mean, the weird girls storyline literally ends with her getting the worst make over in history and suddenly being worthy of respect. It’s not defying forced conformity, it’s the exact opposite.” While Eddie goes on his rant, Steve starts smirking at him, and Eddie realizes that he’s wound him up on purpose.

“You fucker! You tried to get a tangent out of me!”

Steve raises his shoulders up to his ears. “It worked, didn’t it? I kinda missed your notorious lunch table rants. I feel like a teenager again!” he threw his head back on top of the cushion of the couch and dramatically yelled up to the ceiling.

“Yeah, laugh it up, Harrington. We’ll see how much you’ll miss my lunch table rants when I talk throughout the entire movie to point out every flaw it has.”

“Oh no, whatever will I do? I’m definitely not used to Eddie Munson talking my ear off yet! This will be such a new experience for me!” his voice is dripping with sarcasm but Eddie can hear the laughter in it. He slides further down the couch and jokingly crosses his arms and pouts. “Whatever, just grab the remote and start the movie.”

Steve giggles – honest to God giggles – and does as he’s told.

Eddie keeps his promise and talks throughout almost the entire movie, critiquing everything from Bender’s hostile attitude to the limited diversity in the cast.

Steve surprises him by agreeing with almost everything he says. Nodding along with a “I haven’t thought about it like that before.” every so often. He seems unbothered by Eddie’s constant interruptions, might even be entertained by them.

When they get to Allison’s make over, Steve stares at the screen and goes to start a sentence, but stops himself. When Eddie looks at him curiously, he mumbles again. “I never understood why they put all that in. I thought she was a lot hotter before they doused her in pink.” He quickly glances over to Eddie before adjusting his eyes back to the screen.

Eddie grins mischievously. “What, you mean to tell me King Steve is secretly into weird girls? What, cheerleader uniforms and pencil skirts don’t do it for you anymore? Need a girl dressed in black?” he tilts his head towards Steve’s face so they’re forced to make eye contact.

Steve darts his eyes back and forth, seemingly uncomfortable with Eddie’s eyes on him. “Something like that, I guess.”

Before Eddie can tease him about it further, Steve pushes him back into the couch and mutters a silent “Watch the movie, man.” and Eddie follows orders, miming zipping his lips shut.

It isn’t long before Steve speaks up again. “You know, we’re kinda like them.”

Eddie whips his head around to face him. “Pardon?”

Steve exhales out of his nose. “We’re like them, kinda. Nancy is a mix of the princess and the brain, I’m the athlete, Robin is the basket case, and you’re the criminal.” He grins while he says it.

He remembers how earlier, Steve talked about finding Allison hot before they changed her appearance to look more normal, and his suspicions in Family Video, and he tries to ignore the pain that’s piercing him through his chest. A lot more things make sense now, like how protective they are of each other. Why King Steve ended up becoming incredibly close with a random, awkward band geek. How they seem to spend every free minute with each other, to the point where Steve even gives her a ride to school. How Steve got all hesitant saying it, almost shy.

But Eddie doesn’t think they would keep their relationship a secret anymore, so it’s probably true that it must still be in the works. Maybe they were friends before Steve decided to make a move, and they’re currently in the awkward first dates stage. Maybe Steve hasn’t made a move yet and is currently planning it.

Whichever one it is, Eddie should not care. He tries telling himself that over and over again. This is fake. This is a test. His flirting isn’t serious. Steve is straight. Steve has a crush on Robin.

He pretends that nothing is wrong. “Oh, really? You think me and Nancy are gonna start hitting it off soon, then?” He wiggles his eyebrows suggestively.

Steve laughs, but it sounds hollow. He diverts his gaze from off of Eddie’s face again. “Maybe. I think you’re gonna have to go through Jonathan first, though.”

The reaction throws Eddie off. Is he still carrying a torch for Nancy, too? This guy seriously needs to get his love life in check, Eddie thinks bitterly.

He puts his fingers to his chin and acts like he’s considering it. “Mhh, nah. Don’t think so. I’m not really into the whole princess schtick.”

Steve knocks their knees together, just like Eddie thought of doing earlier, His hands begin to sweat.

“Yeah? Which schtick do you like, then?”

Eddie musters together every bit of confidence he still has left in him. “I don’t know. I guess the athlete is more my type.” He tries to keep looking at the side of Steve’s face, not wanting to show the other man that he’s nervous, but it’s hard when Steve’s entire body freezes up again, the only sign of life being the blush that’s slowly creeping up his cheeks. This is it, he’s gonna tell me to fuck off now, storm out the trailer and never talk to me again, Eddie thinks, but instead Steve just starts smiling down at his lap.

“Didn’t expect that from you, Munson. Thought you’d be into rocker chicks, but I guess cheerleaders is more your thing, then?” His gaze slowly shifts back to Eddie’s, showing off the pink shade of his cheeks.

“Something like that.” Eddie mirrors the phrase Steve used earlier.

They stare at each other for a few more seconds, the butterflies in Eddie’s stomach threatening to rise up his throat, when the doorbell interrupts them and Eddie jumps up immediately.

“Pizza’s here!” Eddie yells while strutting towards the front door. Get it together, Munson!

Once Eddie settles back into the couch, this time with a lot more space from Steve to place the Pizza beneath them, they fall into a comfortable silence, both happy to just watch the movie.

It isn’t until Brian is done with his monologue and Don’t You (Forget About Me) clings out that Steve speaks up again.

“Y’know, before this, I kinda thought you hated me.” He stares down at the slice of Pizza in his hands as Eddie’s eyes widen, slowly turning his head.

“What? Why would you think that?”

Steve clears his throat. “You never really tried to talk to me one on one before. Whenever I’d try to when we were all hanging out together or I was picking the kids up from Hellfire, you’d get all weird and I could barely get two sentences out of you before you’d go talk to someone else instead. I actually tried to ask you to watch a movie with me before, but you got so cagey that I decided against it.”

He looks weirdly dejected at that, and Eddie feels guilt running through his bones. He had been avoiding Steve at all cost. His weird half-crush combined with still not fully believing that he could be as good of a person made him put his walls up around the other boy. He tried to protect himself, but he ended up hurting Steve in the process, and he was too self-absorbed to even notice.

“I, I guess I was kinda wary of you, for a long time. I already told you in the upside down, but you, as a person, go against everything I believe. And I knew you in high school, so…” Eddie shrugs while taking another bite of his pizza, but he says it gently. He doesn’t want to hurt Steve any more than he already did.

Steve swallows his bite and laughs, but in a sort of self-deprecating way. “I know I wasn’t the best person in high school, but I’ve been trying to be better, y’know? I mean obviously I get it if you still don’t trust -”

Eddie interrupts him before he can finish that sentence. “No! Don’t say that. You saved my life, Steve. I should’ve given you the benefit of the doubt. Plus, you weren’t even that bad in high school. I just tend to see things sort of black and white, I guess. But that’s not on you, that’s on me.”

At that, Steve finally looks up at him and gives him a small smile. Eddie’s entire body starts tingling, and he suddenly gets the urge to grab Wayne’s camera and take a picture of Steve, maybe keep it in his wallet, too.

Steve takes another bite of his Pizza, then starts speaking. Eddie usually finds that gross, but it’s weirdly endearing on Steve. He thinks he kinda looks like a squirrel.

“So, what made you change your mind about me?”

And Eddie can’t say I didn’t, not really, not until now, at least. Funny story actually, I’m kinda getting paid to be here! so he says the next best thing.

“I guess you’ve slowly proven yourself to be worthy of my time, Harrington. Don’t take it for granted.” he hopes the joke will defuse the tension, and Steve’s small laugh tells him that it worked.

Steve swallows the last bite of their shared pizza, then wipes his hands on his jeans while moving to stand up.

“I should probably go now that the movies over, but maybe we can do this again sometime?”

He sounds hopeful while he says it, and Eddie swears he could feel his heart growing two sizes. “Of course, Stevie. We’ll plan something soon. Can’t get rid of me anymore.” he grins at him, “I trust you can show yourself out? I don’t wanna get up right now.”

Steve laughs again, considering that the front door is almost directly next to the couch, then nods. “Yeah, I think I’ll manage. Bye, Eddie.”

He already opened the front door when Eddie shouts back a dramatic “Bye, Stevie!”

When Eddie hears the engine of Steve’s car start outside, Eddie smiles, and he lets himself forget about the stupid test.

chapter five is available on ao3!!

#stranger things #eddie munson #steddie #steve harrington

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twstgarden · 2 years ago

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❀ ❝ 𝗰𝗮𝗿𝗲 𝗳𝗼𝗿 𝗮𝗻𝗼𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗿 𝗱𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗸? ❞

━ azul ashengrotto x gn! reader (reader can either be yuu or an oc/twstsona) ━ after receiving a letter from azul, you decided to pay a visit to mostro lounge to get your complimentary drink. (inspired by twst valentine cards 2021) (f/n means first name)

do not steal or translate without my permission.

my dear friend, thank you so very much for this absolutely wonderful present. i am positively overjoyed to receive such an affectionate gift. when you have the time, please do drop by the mostro lounge. present the enclosed card at the door and you can enjoy a complimentary drink on me. ━ azul ashengrotto

a smile ghosted its way over your lips as you read azul’s returning card, finding it sweet of him to do this gesture all because you gave him a valentine's gift. you placed the card on your desk and made yourself look presentable before visiting the lounge.

“are you going somewhere?” asked grim, “we ran out of tuna cans, so go buy some!” you let out a hum in response before patting his head and telling him to behave. you then ran out of your dorm, holding the card that azul told you to present for a complimentary drink.

as soon as you step onto the floors of mostro lounge, jazz music can be heard along with the chatter of students from different dorms and sounds of glasses and plates clinking, hinting that it is mostro lounge's busy hour.

“little shrimpy!”

hearing that familiar call, you looked around and spotted the twins sitting by the bar. you waved at them and sat beside floyd as you had a conversation with the twins while sipping on your drink.

the aura of mostro lounge was relaxing which is why it is one of your favourite places in nrc.

“azul is available if you wish to speak to him,” says jade as he seems to know the reason for your “free” drink, “he’s in his office right now.” he smiled at you and you replied with thanks before you walked towards his office while holding your half-finished drink.

you gently knocked on his office door three times, hoping you weren’t disturbing him. “come in,” voiced out the male as you turned the doorknob and entered his office. you smiled at him as he smiled back, gesturing you to sit on the couch.

“i see you have received your drink,” said azul, “do you like it?” you let out a hum as you nodded, “aren’t you going to have a drink too?”

it felt awkward for you to be the only one enjoying a beverage and you wanted to have a drink with him, but he shook his head and told you he was fine and that you should finish your drink first.

you nodded and placed the cup on his desk once you were finished, causing him to stand up and grab your cup before walking towards to door.

“i’ll be back,” said azul as he left you in his office. you nodded and made yourself sink into the comfortable couch.

it was cold in his office ━ not the shivering type of cold, but the refreshing type, similar to the scenarios when you enter a cold room after a long day out in the uncomfortable heat. it felt relaxing and you wanted to sleep, but you thought that would be embarrassing.

your eyes trailed around his beautiful office before landing on his desk, a blue folder laid flat on the surface on the further left side with his fishbone pen placed neatly on its holder. it was neat, as expected from azul.

seconds later, the door opened revealing azul with two glasses filled with your drink of choice. he arranged the glasses down on the table and sat on his leather chair.

“care for another drink? with me, this time,” uttered azul as he grabbed his glass. you took yours and thanked him before clinking your glasses together and taking a sip of your drink.

“thank you again,” said azul as he smiled at you, “that was... thoughtful of you.”

you avoided his gaze for a moment and stared at the drink in your glass. you did not know what to say, wondering if the feelings you desired to convey to him through that gift were clear. however from your point of view at the moment, it doesn't seem like your feelings were communicated properly.

“glad you like it,” you mumbled as you continued gulping down on your drink. you continued to lounge around azul's office for a while and had a pleasant conversation with him.

unbeknownst to the man before you, your heart was racing the entire time, feeling as if you were lucky to have this moment with someone that you are head over heels for.

hours later, you have decided it was time to rest for the night. you stood up and thanked him for his time and how you enjoyed being around him before turning around and walking towards his door.

suddenly, he held your wrist before you could walk away any further. his touch was gentle as his voice called out, “wait...!”

out of curiosity, you turned around to look at him and questioned, “is there something else?”

azul was silent for a moment before leaning towards you and placing a soft kiss on your lips, then he pulled away and smiled, “sleep tight, love.”

#disney twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland #twst #disney twst #twisted wonderland x reader #twisted wonderland x you #azul ashengrotto #azul ashengrotto x reader #twst azul #azul x y/n #jade leech #floyd leech #twst grim #twst wonderland

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creative-girl · 7 months ago

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FB Greater Good au

Almost a year ago I had an idea where the Scamander brothers had a Summer of 1899 experience like the Dumbledore siblings had. I wrote this little thing but never completed it, it was only the first draft so nothing was planned or thought out. I was just going with the flow. I was going through my random folder and found it and I was like "What happens next?" like I wasn't the author 💀. Anyways, I am really interested in finishing it and I wanted to know if anyone is interested in reading more of it. Warning: it's incomplete. So, without further ado.

Newt was ten when he saw his parents murdered. He doesn’t remember much. He knew his father had hid him in the broom cupboard and he had seen it all through the small gap. There were noises, shouts and screams, and a green light and the sound of two bodies falling. The memories are all jumbled up. Afterwards he had spent months in St. Mungo’s not responding to anyone or anything.

When he had recovered he had been given to his brother, Theseus, who had just been eighteen. They didn’t talk much. Theseus was working some job while also doing auror training. He was almost always out of the house. The only meal they had together was dinner as Theseus would always leave early. He would help me with nightmares, Newt mused.

The early days after he had returned from St. Mungo’s he had night terrors. Where the night of his parents’ demise would come to haunt him in his dreams. He would wake screaming, but Theseus was always there. They wouldn’t talk about it but he would still stay there till sleep welcomed Newt again.

Even after Newt had started Hogwarts, they didn’t send long letters as others did but only small notes in the form of the muggle telegram messages. Even after Theseus had become an actual auror, they would not talk much, only the necessities, such as; “Have you eaten yet?” “When will you return?” “Do you need anything for school?” “We have run out of tea! Again!”

Newt spent most of his time alone, reading, drawing and wandering around the woods. Even when Theseus and Newt were in the same room, he felt lonely. Even on weekends Theseus was away, later Newt found out that he preferred to spend time with his friend, Edwin Rookwood, than he did with his own brother. Newt liked to pretend it didn’t bother him but it did. Especially when Theseus would lie about his whereabouts. Newt didn’t understand why Theseus just couldn’t tell the truth.

He had stopped coming home for the holidays in his third year. The first excuse he told himself was because he needed to take care of the raven. He had liked the holidays at Hogwarts so much more than at home that he didn’t come home in his fourth or fifth year either. He wished he had, or else he wouldn’t be waiting by the window waiting for Theseus to come home. It was near midnight, it wasn't the first time Theseus had been late; usually Newt would have dinner by himself and go to bed. Today that was not the case, today he decided that they would have dinner together and talk.

Newt had gone to Diagon Alley alone that day to buy things for his upcoming sixth year. There was the sound of a loud pop, Newt leaned a little to see the familiar brunette opening the front door. Newt grabbed a book from the pile of his new books and sat on the sofa pretending to read it.

He heard footsteps entering the room “What are you doing?” Theseus asked, a little surprised.

“Reading.” Newt said evenly, lifting his head to look at Theseus. His brother was looking at the new things Newt had bought. “You went shopping.” he said as if he was processing it.

“I did.”

“You could’ve waited for me.”

Newt resisted the urge to roll his eyes, instead he just gripped his book a little tighter “I don’t know when you have time off and, um, you are hardly ever home” He said rather sharply.

Theseus ignored the jab “Why aren't you asleep?” he kept glancing behind him.

“I hoped we could have dinner tonight together. And talk.”

“I already had dinner with Edwin.”

“Of course.” Newt said coldly, hearing that name he couldn’t keep his anger in “What did you talk about?”

“What?” Theseus looked and sounded confused

“What did you talk about?” Newt repeated “About domination over muggles? About how the wizardkind should be the sole ruler of the world and others it’s mere subjects?”

“What are you talking about?” Theseus asked alarmed

“Isn’t that what you think?”

Theseus looked angry and scared at the same time “Did you read my letters?”

“You left the little booklet in the library. The Manifesto.”

“You weren’t supposed to read it.”

“But I did. Is that really what you think?”

“You are too young to understand.” Theseus tried to walk past Newt to the library but Newt stopped him.

“I am old enough to understand what you think is wrong!”

“You don’t understand anything!” Theseus said sharply, “You are too innocent, and too young.”

Newt felt anger brewing inside him, but he also felt calm and cold “Don’t use my age to condescend me.”

#fantastic beasts #newt scamander #fantastic beasts and where to find them #harry potter #hiba speaks #theseus scamander #summer of 1899

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dao-the-starlight · 6 months ago

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A Gift for Clxudy Xuan

SURPRISE!!! It's my secret santa gift for the lovely @clxudyxuan for the @olnfsecretsanta2024 event!

A/N to my giftee Xuan: MERRY CHRISTMAS XUAN!!!! It’s me, your secret Santa!!! Before I say anything let me just say I'M SO SORRY for getting this in a day late!! In my time zone, it’s only just the 15th today, so for me the gift exchange happened a day early, and once I realized I had to scramble to my doc and make any changes and tweaks I wanted to. I hope you enjoy this gift, it was incredibly fun to make and I'm so glad I got to make this. I was in a constant fist-fight with writer’s block the entire time I made this so I’m incredibly sorry if there are some errors here and there in the writing, I tried my absolute best to give you the best gift for the holidays! Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays Xuan!! 🎄🎄🎄

Word Count: Roughly 2.9k Words

Credit to @/saradika-graphics for the headers

“In ‘A Midsummer Night’s Dream’, Shakespeare explores themes of the relationships between people and the many hardships that can come with it. Choose three pieces of evidence from the play that support these themes and write, in your own words, an Analytical Essay to show your understanding of the play.”

The monotonous ticking of an ornate clock on a desk served as the only noise in Elise’s bedroom as she stared daggers at the assignment laid in front of her. Winter break had finally arrived at Riverview Peak High School, though the “break” part of the event seemed to be a total lie as the teachers had decided it was a truly wonderful idea to give their students a pile of assignments to complete by the end of the break. “It’s to prepare for your exams!!”, they’d all say. Sure. Fine. That made sense, but why call it a Winter Break then??

If you asked any fellow classmate, they’d tell you that this was the teacher’s dumb way to keep annoying their students. Though to Elise, this was the worst fate that could’ve fallen upon her. She was very eager for winter break, delighted for it even, finally after months of assignments and quizzes and the constant non-stop threat of her grades lowering, Elise was ecstatic at the fact that she could have finally gotten a long break for herself. She had even already planned how she wanted to spend her break, quality time with Mom, practice her piano and singing (and hopefully master that song she hoped to perform for Christmas), and have some winter adventures with her friends, without any bickering this time. But she’s already one week into the break and all she’s done is work work work. Chipping away at the assignments pushed onto her already heavy load.

“Maybe I’m cursed.” Elise would think, “I was too excited for the break, but my grades slipped after I bombed that last math test, so now I’m cursed with more work until I can fix it. I should’ve known that would’ve come back to bite me!”

It certainly didn’t help that Elise had already fallen behind on some of her classes, so now the assignments she had to finish before January felt neverending. Once she managed to finish one and shove it back into her “Finished Assignments” folder, three more assignments would appear to bug her. The past week had mostly been focused on Elise’s math work, booklets, worksheets, mini quizzes, and the occasional “artistic” project to “shake things up” as her teacher would put it. Eventually, it had all become too much, if Elise had to look at one more nonsensical math equation, she thinks she would’ve gone mad. So, even if there was still more to do, Elise switched over to her English assignments, which brings her to now, staring so harshly at her paper that she could have burned a hole straight through it.

It was easy really, just write an essay on a play the class had been studying for weeks, simple enough. Elise had written a bunch of essays during this semester and always excelled as she ought to. This should be a walk in the park! But… Whenever she looked at her assignment and tried to plan out what she could write… nothing came up. She blanked on everything. It was like she got hit with amnesia overnight, every time she tried to recall the events of the play all she got were vague blurry afterimages of things she couldn’t put into words.

Elise wanted to scream. She wanted to scream and cry and tear up this paper into scraps, but she couldn’t get the energy to even try. She had to get everything finished now. She couldn't bear to think about what might happen to her grades if she didn’t finish everything in time. But right now, the only thing she could muster the energy for was to pitifully let her head fall onto her desk, not even acknowledging the pain that shot through her forehead as her head hit the wood.

“Maybe if I stay right here like this, everything will be fine…” she thought to herself.

…

……

‘KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK’

“Elise? Are you awake yet?” The muffled voice of Elise’s mom called from just outside her room door, giving the girl possibly the biggest shock of her life.

Elise shouted… something. Honestly, with her tired mind still catching up to her body, she couldn’t tell if she had shouted a quick “Yes I’m awake!!” or “One second!!”, or maybe even something else entirely. Regardless of whatever words tumbled out of her mouth, Elise sprang up from her desk and immediately grabbed all of her assignments and schoolbooks to unceremoniously shove into whatever free drawers and other hide-y holes she could find.

Just as she shoved her last English assignment into her bag (crumpling it in the process, ugh.) her bedroom door creaked open and her mother peeked her head in, seeing Elise hunched over her backpack quietly grumbling about something.

“Elise…?” she called.

At the sound of her mother’s sudden voice behind her, Elise scrambled to get up to her feet and address her mom. Once she was standing she immediately began to fiddle with her appearance by pure instinct, smoothing out her hair and nightgown hastily and getting rid of any unsightly imperfections she physically saw on herself.

“Ugh I must be a mess right now…” she whined in her mind.

When she finally deemed herself presentable, she looked up to face her mother and oh she was not that close when Elise first heard her. She must have fully walked into the room at some point. Figuring that her mom was simply here to make a quick check-in on her daughter, Elise quickly first spoke to show that she was definitely fine.

“Good morning Mom! I was just looking over some old schoolwork! I wasn’t expecting you to come into my room so you scared me... Is breakfast ready?”

Perfectly cheery, see? She doesn’t sound tired at all! Definitely a perfect happy daughter for a perfect happy mother.

Elise’s mother, Opal, paused for a moment, her gaze flicking from her daughter’s slightly too-wide smile to the desk behind her with pencils and erasers and other stationary utensils strewn about. Without missing a beat, she looked back at her daughter and reached out to fondly brush her hand over her golden hair, slightly ruffling it up in the process. Elise tried her best not to bristle at the action.

Opal hummed, “Well, yes breakfast is ready. Buuut~ I also wanted to ask you about helping your mom with her lovely Christmas decorations for tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow…?”, Elise thought, “What’s happening tomorrow- Oh my goodness I forgot.”

Tomorrow was December twenty-fourth meaning it was Christmas Eve, but not only was it Christmas Eve tomorrow, it was also the “Second Family Christmas Party!”, a party that Elise’s mother had thought up back when she and her daughter had first moved to Golden Grove. After seeing Elise make a new crew of friends, her mother thought it would be amazing to try and brighten up her first Christmas in a new town by inviting all of Elise’s friends and their families over for a Christmas celebration. She and her daughter spent days buying all of the most fancy Christmas decorations they could find, and spent the twenty-third putting them all around the house to turn into a winter wonderland, and come the day of the party everyone loved it! Since then the party has become a tradition for the Second Family, and it just so happens that the party was tomorrow. Elise hadn’t even noticed due to how much she occupied herself with schoolwork and nothing else.

“Oh!! Right. Tomorrow. I… almost forgot! I’d love to decorate with you!” Elise said with a timid strain to her voice.

Elise still had work, lots of work, she really couldn’t neglect it. But she also knows how much her mom loves setting up this party with her, “It’s my favourite part of Christmas!” she’d say, before quickly tacking on some spiel about how truly any time spent with her daughter was her favourite part of Christmas, Elise couldn’t let her mom down and break her heart like that.

Opal smiled, and patted her hair once again, “Thank you, dear. You can come on down when you’re ready, breakfast will be there on the table. I made your favourite”

She gave her a quick kiss on the forehead, for good measure Elise supposed, before stepping out of the bedroom and heading back downstairs.

Once her mother left, it felt like Elise had been dunked over the head with a bucket of ice-cold water. Pushing out a harsh sigh she crouched down and held her hands tight in her hair, not even caring at how unruly her locks became after fussing over it looking “presentable” mere moments before. In her lonesome, she was frantically running scenario after scenario through her head, desperately trying to figure out how she could fit in Christmas celebrations with her work. But in every single scenario, something had to be postponed, pushed back further into winter break meaning Elise had less time to finish everything. How was anything going to get done??

Eventually, after… Well, who knows how long, Elise’s body seemed to make a choice for her as her stomach growled loudly and the telltale pang of hunger racked through her body.

“Time for breakfast…” She mused, slowly standing back up and exciting her room to finally face the day.

~~~~

“Oh! I almost forgot about these! Elise? I have to touch up the lights outside before it gets too dark. Could you grab the rest of these crafts here and string them up around the living room for me?” Opal called.

“Will do Mom!” Elise hopped from the kitchen to the living room, passing her mom who was heading out to the front door on the way.

After Elise had headed down for breakfast (which she had to warm up cause she had in fact taken that long, sorry Mom), she saw her mother bringing out box after box of Christmas decorations and placing them out around the living room. Once Opal heard Elise coming down into the kitchen, she looked up and lit up with glee at the sight of her daughter, greeting her warmly again before continuing what she was doing. Seeing just how excited her mother got at something as “silly” as Christmas decorating, Elise couldn’t help but feel a warm fond feeling of nostalgia fill her chest. Maybe…. school could wait just a little longer… For her mom.

So now, here Elise was, shifting through one of the last boxes of the day. This particular box was filled with a plethora of fun Christmas-themed crafts that Elise and her friends had made during past parties before… things changed. But regardless of the present, these mementos of the past held a lot of memories that couldn’t be forgotten, so it was a pleasure to put them up around the house, lord knows the older Lin’s, Baumann’s, and Murray’s always appreciated it if the kids didn’t.

After around thirty minutes passed, Elise managed to go through everything in the crafts box except for one final thing. Laid there at the very bottom of the box was the very first craft Elise had ever made, a quaint paper and felt card featuring Elise and her closest friends, Qiu and Tamarack, as the main feature on the cover with the words "MERRY CHRISTMAS GOLDEN GROVE" drawn on over the felt with presumably some colourful sharpie pens. Elise reached into the box and pulled the card out, treating it as if it were made of the finest and most fragile glass in the whole world. She carefully ran her fingers over the edge of the felt that made up her felt self’s hair, unable to hold back the emotional grin that overtook her features. Moving over to her best friend's felt figures, she couldn’t help but giggle at the cute crudeness of it all.

The whole card had actually been Elise’s mom’s idea during the very first Christmas party she had. The kids (minus Ren, who at the time already had plans with the rest of the Murrays for Christmas Eve and therefore couldn’t attend) had gotten quite restless while waiting for their party gift exchange, and in their efforts to find something to do, they found a box of craft supplies that were stored in the hallway closet. Opal saw and gave the kids the idea of making a big gift card for themselves to celebrate their first Christmas together. And just like that the kids created a brand new Christmas tradition.

Funny. Elise never realized how many “traditions” she had made here in Golden Grove with her best friends and family surrounding Christmas. She wondered if that would keep going into adulthood. She really hoped it would…

Suddenly, she heard the sound of the front door opening and her now snow-covered mom shuffling into the house. She stood up and was met with the sight of her mother trying her best to shake off all the snow on her while also doing everything she could to not get snow everywhere inside the foyer, all while quietly muttering something about the cold and underestimating Golden Grove’s winter. Unable to hold back, Elise laughed before skipping over to her mom and helping her gather her winter gear and putting it away, earning a fond “Thank you Elise” from her mother during the shuffle.

Once everything was put away and Opal was officially declared “snow-free”, the mother-daughter duo walked out of the foyer and gazed upon the now beautifully decorated house, it truly looked like the house had transformed into a bite-sized version of a fantasy Christmas town.

Opal sighed, love and nostalgia swelling in her chest.

“Oh, it gets more beautiful every year…”

“Thank you, my dear. I couldn’t have done this without your teamwork.” she quickly turned to Elise and gave her a sweet kiss on the cheek.

Elise chuckled, murmuring a small “You’re welcome” as she moved to hug her mother. The embrace lasted for a few long seconds, both Opal and Elise silently taking in the moment. After the two finally deemed the hug satisfactory, Opal pulled back first with a smile on her face as she looked down at Elise.

“How about, to celebrate our efforts, we have a fun movie night? There’s some popcorn over in the pantry, I can cook some up and we can stay up as late as we want watching Christmas movies!” she suggested.

Elise was just about to eagerly accept her mother’s offer when suddenly she was yanked back to reality by her brain harshly reminding her of the schoolwork waiting back in her room, and her mother’s voice faded far into the background. She had almost forgotten entirely, how could she? There was still so much to be done and she practically wasted the whole day decorating. How was she going to get everything done? Well, there was the essay she tried to write this morning, but there were also some of the other math workbooks she left behind as well… Maybe if she started the essay now, she could-

“It’ll be a nice break for the both of us!” Opal suddenly exclaimed and placed her hands on Elise’s shoulders.

“A moment for us to wind down before all the business of Christmas. We both deserve it,” she added.

Elise only stared at her mother for a moment, unsure of what to say. She didn’t want to dismiss her mom, but she also absolutely couldn’t afford to push back her work any further, her grades could slip again. Though it seemed that Opal would make the final decision before Elise could.

Opal gently grabbed Elise’s hand and walked her towards the living room couch before letting her go to rummage through a nearby coffee table to find her collection of DVDs, musing on about how they could start their movie night with Elise’s favourite Christmas movie.

Elise’s mind failed to catch up with her body, she simply allowed her mom to pull her around and once she was in front of the couch all she did was sit down and wait for her mom.

“Well, I’m already here… I guess it’s too late to leave now.” Elise thought as she adjusted to sit more properly, exuding what she believed to be a more lady-like demeanour.

After rummaging around the DVD collection, Opal finally found just the movie she was looking for, “Ah! There you are. Elise, could you turn on the TV for me while I set up the DVD player?”

Elise muttered a quick “Sure” and reached for the remote, promptly pointing it at the TV and turning it on, just as her mother placed the DVD player up and running and placed the disk inside.

Opal walked back over to the couch and sat down right next to Elise, grabbing a nearby blanket and draping it over herself and her daughter, meanwhile, Elise fiddled around with the remote some more to get the TV to the right cable.

After all the setup, the movie could begin. Elise and Opal moved to get as comfy as possible under the blanket, Elise leaned against her mother and Opal wrapped her arm securely around her daughter. The two became snug as a bug just at the right time when the movie was beginning and classic Christmas music rang through the TV speakers.

“Merry Christmas, my dear,” Opal whispered.

“Mm… Merry Christmas Mom…” Elise couldn’t help but let out a very long, but content, sigh.

It was so nice to get a break.

……

“Oh dear- I forgot our popcorn!!”

Fin

Merry Christmas 🎅

#olnf secret santa 24 #our life now and forever #our life now & forever #olnf #our life #gift #fanfic #happy holidays!!!

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