#and honestly... SO MUCH FUN | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

suffering-and-happy-about-it · 4 months ago

Text

Behind Closed Doors (A Daichi Sawamura Ficlet)

Synopsis: Despite the rowdy beginnings of your relationship, you and Daichi Sawamura (the sweetest of husbands and the best father a child could wish for) were going strong. So far, didn't seem to slow down—your love wasn't faltering or fading away. This man was your ride-or-die. Your future. Your everything. Until your daughter's kindergarten called with unsettling news—the suspicion of domestic abuse inside your household.

Pairing: Daichi Sawamura x afab!reader

Author's notes: I yearned to write something for Daichi and I came up with a story this ficlet eventually spins from. But IDK if anyone would be interested in reading it haha? But yeah. I think that Daichi's very well-kept-up goody-two-shoes police officer persona hides a freaky motherfucker that loves to get down to business. And if he gets a wifey who matches his freak? He's worshiping the ground she walks walking on. Also, he doesn't strike as dom—he just needs a wifey who can also come with freaky, kinky shit. Someone defying him and going against his rules would actually be a huge turn-on for him. So no—Y/N isn't a sub and their kinky fucking DOESN'T leave the bedroom.

Warning: This was written in one sitting and is not proofread.

Word count: 3K

It started with a call in the middle of the day. You'd been at work, just wrapping up an order of baked goodies when your phone buzzed in your back pocket—usually, you didn't pick up calls amidst a busy noon shift. Upon seeing the number of Haruhi's kindergarten teachers, you realized it wouldn't be the case.

"I really need to take this." - You muttered toward your co-worker, wishing the customer an amazing day. - "It's Hari's teacher. Might be important." "Go for it!" - Ren, your long-time friend and co-worker called out as she checked what little pastries you still had. - "Let's hope the little bean isn't sick." "Yeah, hopefully."

Mrs. Chiba sounded strange—she was a woman around your age, usually gentle, bubbly, and energetic. Her engaging personality was perfect for a kindergarten teacher and the kids loved her. This time, her voice was flat, almost careful. Too gentle as she invited you for a late-afternoon meeting. It was serious and acute—she even specifically asked for Daichi's presence. That hadn't ever happened before. You'd usually come to the meetings separately depending on what was on the agenda—if Daichi had overtime or other plans? Your time to shine. It also applied the other way around. You worked as a unit, ensuring everything went smoothly, always watching each other's back and rotating on the clock as needed.

Walking back into the chaos of your workplace, you exchanged a few confused texts with Daichi, arranging the details—when'd you meet, where'd meet, and most importantly, who'd take care of Hari for the afternoon. Just like every once in a while, you'd ask Uncle Asahi to step in. As per usual, Asahi agreed the moment you asked for his help, ever the knight in shiny armor. Asahi and your six-year-old were actually a dream team—she always spoke so highly of all the fun activities Asahi came up with. They'd both be in their element inside Asahi's little fashion design studio—Hari could sketch into hallelujah with various super-expansive fixes and Asahi created a few pieces based on her drawings already.

Your stomach grumbled with nerves as you waited for Daichi in front of the kindergarten. You were looking at your phone with a slight furrow—Asahi and Hari just made it to his studio, sending you a goofy selfie. The man was furrowing while Hari pulled her mouth open with her index fingers, showing off her missing front teeth. Don't worry! The text under said. When you're done, we'll all go for some ramen. Hari can't wait! That was Asahi for you—a supportive, gentle giant. Putting the phone away with a sigh, your eyes trailed toward the man who was walking toward you at a measured, authoritative pace. Fuck. You still couldn't believe that you pulled Daichi Sawamura.

Standing tall at 5'9 with a broad and impressive build, Daichi became the embodiment of discipline and unwavering dependability after nearly ten years of working in law enforcement. He carried himself with effortless confidence—his posture always straight, movements precise, and presence reassuringly firm. The occupation of a police officer and years of hard work sharpened his instincts, toughened his physique, and honed his ability to command a room without raising his voice.

His features sharpened with age, giving him a strong jawline, faint lines of stress near his eyes, and the kind of gaze that sees right through people. After a decade spent as a police officer, his brown eyes beamed with quiet intensity—calm, calculated, and capable of dark amusement when called for... burning like ambers whenever he looked your way, his gaze dancing on your body. Despite five years of marriage, his eyes still adored you like the night you first fooled around. He kept his jet-black hair shorter and neater than a few years back, but he still let it slightly tousled—framing his face in an infuriatingly attractive way.

His shirt and trousers suited him almost too well—the trousers hugging his thick, muscular thighs so fine it nearly made you groan and the issued shirt stretching over his broad shoulders and sculptured chest, begging to be torn off. "There you are." - Your husband chuckled as he approached you, stealing a gentle peck off your lips—his seemingly stoic face lighting up a smile that'd melt an iceberg. And fuck, Daichi's voice—deep and measured, dripping down your ears like honey. - "Hi, wifey." "Hi, hubby." - Giggling along with him, you'd steal a quick peck too. It became your daily ritual—mutually greeting each other with lovey-dovey pet names that made one's teeth rot.

"Did you speak with the teacher yet?" - He asked, putting on the black tailored blazer he'd gotten as a birthday gift from Asahi. - "Any idea what's this about? Is Hari okay?" "Mhm. She's with Asahi. Look." - You'd pull out your phone, showing the picture of the duo to Daichi. His eyes immediately softened, a soft grin unwittingly tugging on his lips. - "We agreed to meet up for ramen once we're done here." "That sounds... heavenly." - Daichi groaned. - "I had to pull through my lunch break today. Also—Yuto won't forget this, I had to take a few hours off my holiday subsidy on short notice and he wasn't happy with me." "Awh, I'm so sorry to hear that!" "C'mon. Always remember that you and Hari are my priority. A few hours of overtime won't stop me, baby." - Kissing your cheek, Daichi's palm settled on the small of your back—he led you toward the entrance.

The meeting had already started off on a strange note. Clearing your throat, you straightened and watched Mrs. Chiba sitting over the table. Her expression was serious, stoic, and... something was off. Secondly, you've been called in alone. That was the first red flag.

Whenever you got called in together (this wasn't your first rodeo), Daichi was usually the one to handle these kinds of things—he was great with the teachers, always polite, and always reliable. For Mrs. Chiba to insist on meeting with you first, one-on-one, without him felt... off. But still, you didn't question it. Maybe it was about something small—you tried to fool yourself as you sent the woman a nervous smile. Maybe there was an upcoming event, a parent volunteer request, hosting a BBQ... something. Anything.

Sitting primly across Mrs. Chiba, your hands were folded in your lap, ready to listen. She watched you for a moment, exhaling softly before speaking. Her eyes traveled to your wrist—it was covered with a noticeable mark reminding you of your and Daichi's last... rendezvous. You'd cover it up with an innocent smile. "Mrs. Sawamura... There's no easy way to say this, but... your daughter has alarmed us about a potential domestic abuse situation."

Her words flew right through your head at first. You froze, your breath hitched and your eyebrows knitted slightly. Oh. Did she notice something at school? Were some of her friends in danger? You panicked a bit, trying to keep it together. The gravity of the meeting, the situation, hadn't dawned on you yet. "Did she... notice something about her friends? Was the telling stories again? Mrs. Chiba, you know that Hari's a kid with a very vivid imagination..." - As you've said, you weren't a stranger to getting invited to the kindergarten along with your husband—this wasn't your first rodeo. "It regards you and your husband, Mrs. Sawamura." "I—what?" - The world seemed to tilt ever so slightly, your breath growing shallow as you pressed on the bruise on your wrist a bit tighter. That's why Mrs. Chiba noticed it—she was looking for it.

But... Daichi? Your Daichi? The man who actively and openly worshiped the ground you walked on? The man who still at you like you hung the stars, five years into your marriage? The same Daichi who cried when your baby's first into the womb, who read bedtime stories in ridiculous voices just to make your baby girl giggle? That Daichi?

... An abuser?

"I know this is a lot to process." - Mrs. Chiba continued, her voice gentle and careful. - "We don't know how serious it is or how long the... the situation lasts." - The abuse. She meant to say the abuse. You simply stared at her and let her speak softly, carefully... you were absolutely fucking baffled. Usually, you'd stand by Daichi's side—you'd be screaming, fighting for him and his innocence. But frankly? Mrs. Chiba caught you off-guard. "As a mother, you'll surely understand—it's my duty as a teacher to ensure my pupil's well-being and a safe home environment. Especially when the matter regards young children." "Yes, yes." - You nodded, trying to sort your thoughts. But it was impossible. - "I understand, but..." "We know Mr. Sawamura personally and we're aware that your husband is a police officer. Your daughter brought him in for last month's job fair and spoke very highly of him. However, because of Hakuri's recent behavior and stories, we felt compelled to act. That's why I contacted you today. If Mr. Sawamura is applying any sort of violence—whether mental, physical, or even economic—we are ready to help you and your daughter out of this situation."

A panicked scoff of disbelief left your mouth. Oh. That's when it clicked. Oh, no. You knew exactly where this was going, covering your mouth preemptively as your eyes hung on Mrs. Chiba, your head nodding along in silence.

"The details Hari provided were... concerning." - She continued, tapping her pen into the desk in a slow, deliberate rhythm. - "According to her testimony, there are multiple pairs of handcuffs and other movement-restricting devices hidden inside a certain closet inside your home."

Your soul left your body as you closed your eyes, whining silently. It needed to be said that your reaction could've looked like someone saved after years of torment—but thankfully, this wasn't your nor Daichi's case. This was about the closet incident. The one that happened right before Noya, Daichi, Asahi, and Hari's fishing trip. The moment when Daichi's life and ancestors flashed in front of his eyes when your daughter found the closet unsupervised and unlocked—the handcuffs, ropes, see-through lacy lingerie... and more. An enormous parental mishap—over which you and Noya descended into hysterical laughter. Daichi'd explained, albeit horribly and he was lucky that Hari was as gullible as she was.

And, well... Hari had snitched—probably just shared her discovery with a teacher, not thinking much of it...unwittingly putting your husband's entire career and your marriage in jeopardy.

"She also mentioned that lately, your husband doesn't shy away from calling you names..." - Mrs. Chiba added, her expression darkening—yet another nail to your coffin. It happened on the same morning, half an hour apart. Another mishap, just a slip-up. Hari was supposed to be dead asleep. Once, you weren't careful enough and didn't take all possible precautions just for it to turn out like... this. - "She mentioned he uses particularly degrading terms, such as... 'whore' and 'slut'."

Now, you nearly choked on air. Your entire face was warming up, gentle sweat running down the side of your face, eyes widening, and heartbeat stuttering.

Oh, this was bad. So, so bad.

Not because it wasn't just wrong—it was horrifyingly accurate.

You and Daichi did have handcuffs... many of them, a whole variety. Honestly? You also had ropes (varying colors and materials—velvet soft, rough, short, even rolled on a spool) and you couldn't believe your daughter didn't mention that too... when she was at it.

And the name-calling? Well... That was... A very specific part of your private life. One that you never intended to let slip out. Daichi and you could rejoice and congratulate one another Hari didn't overhear the names you called your husband in the heat of the situation.

This was stupid. So fucking stupid. Just one huge misunderstanding. You had to fight to keep the laughter in, clearing your throat, your eyes swelling with tears as you tried to stay serious. You were sweating, genuinely sweating. "Mrs. Sawamura..." - Mrs. Chiba pressed gently, watching your reaction closely. - "If there's anything you'd like to share..." "May I call my husband in?" - You interrupted, gasping for air, still battling the urge to lose it. - "I think we can explain everything."

The moment Daichi walked in, it was over. You were dead. Gone. He looked confused, like a deer in the headlights, repenting preemptively... worried. His eyes slid to you, teetering on the edge of losing it. Your shoulders shook as she tried—and failed—to hold in the absolute hysteria bubbling inside you.

The look on Daichi's face when he was called in? Priceless. He walked in all serious—brows furrowed, stance firm, his usual commanding presence in full effect, and despite all that, he came across as a Bambi in the headlights. He probably figured Haruhi had gotten into a fight or broken a school rule.

But oh. Oh. He had no idea what was coming.

"Mr. Sawamura..." - The teacher began, folding her hands on the desk, her voice steady and professional. - "We wanted to speak with you today because we have concerns about your home environment." Daichi's frown deepened. He wasn't catching the drift. - "Concerns?

Despite your best efforts to keep it in, you let out a choked, strangled noise. Not a sob. But the kind of suppressed laughter that could only come from someone trying to keep it together desperately. Daichi glanced at you briefly—confused, worried—but you couldn't look at him. Your cheeks turned a few shades darker, droplets of sweat ran down your forehead, and your eyes trained to the tips of your shoes. Your entire body trembled with the force of the laughter you could not, under any circumstances, let escape.

Mrs. Chiba continued, giving Daichi a deep furrow. Her eyes jumped from your discombobulated form to confused Daichi sitting beside you. - "Haruhi shared information that raised a few red flags for us. She mentioned your household contains multiple pairs of handcuffs, as well as other devices designed to restrict movement..."

You squeaked. You actually squeaked. Daichi, meanwhile, went rigid. His entire body tensed. The shift in him was instant—his jaw clenched, hands forming into tight fists in his lap, sweating profusely.

Oh, fuck.

"Oh?" - Daichi finally said, voice tight, controlled. "She was quite detailed with her testimony." - The teacher went on, reading from her notes. - "Saying, and I quote, 'They were hidden inside a closet'." - Mrs. Chiba looked up at him, pausing.

A slow, horrible realization dawned on Daichi and crept up to his expression. Oh. Oh, fuck. The closet. The one he'd forgotten to lock after your latest entanglement. Shit.

"... And your daughter also mentioned they all belong to you. Even specified they're used by police forces." - Daichi nearly perished when the words left Mrs. Chiba's mouth. He knew the pair she was talking about—he knew it well, intimately. It was your favorite. The pair he'd stolen from the station a few years ago—because of your batting, wide pretty eyes. You'd mentioned (again and again) that they looked... enthusing. So, naturally, Daichi got you a pair—as any loving husband would.

His ears turned bright red, fingers twitched as he stared at his daughter's kindergarten teacher utterly mortified. You snorted. You couldn't help it. You were dying, perishing. Why? Because the look on Daichi's face was a mix of sheer horror, regret, and 'oh my god, my child had ruined my dignity and my life'.

"And there's more." - Mrs. Chiba continued as if it wasn't already bad enough. You, already knowing what was coming, buried your face in your hands. - "She also mentioned that you frequently call your wife degrading names, Mr. Sawamura. Specifically a 'whore' and a 'slut'." Daichi's soul left his body. You were wheezing, actually fucking wheezing. And suddenly—the waterworks broke. Your shoulders shook violently, and your entire body convulsed as you collapsed forward onto the desk, crying.

Not from fear. Not from distress. But from the sheer level of mortification and embarrassment. "Oh my god." - You gasped between hiccups of laughter, gripping your stomach. Daichi's mouth opened. Then closed. Then opened again... And nothing came out. He was stunned into silence.

Mrs. Chiba, meanwhile, looked deeply concerned—eyeing your breakdown with a careful hesitation. - "Mrs. Sawamura?" You waved your hand at her, trying to catch your breath. - "It's fine—it's fine—I just—" - Another choked laugh. A gasp. A snort. Daichi groaned next to you, dragging his hands across his face. His ears were burning. - "Fucking hell." - He muttered.

"Mrs. Chiba... This is all a misunderstanding." - You finally managed to squeeze out, your words half-giggled and barely coherent. Mrs. Chiba seemed deeply skeptical. - "... Is it?" "YES." - Daichi interjected quickly, finally snapping out of his stupor. - "It is. I—we—ugh..." - A pause followed. Then a deep sigh. Then, with the most pained expression known to a man, he started explaining.

"Y/N... I mean, Mrs. Sawamura, my wife..." - He was stumbling on his words so much that Mrs. Chiba furrowed again, leaning back into her office chair. - "She's the best thing that ever happened to me. And Hari's the greatest blessing in our lives. We love our daughter more than anything and every day, we are providing for her, making sure she has everything she needs. But we're... human, Mrs. Chiba. Even though we try our best to be the best parents, mishaps happen. Some are bigger than others. Therefore, let me just say... The handcuffs aren't for police work, but private use."

Daichi couldn't believe the words leaving his mouth. He pinched the bridge of his nose, looking seconds away from throwing himself out of the window. There was silence. Absolute silence while Mrs. Chiba processed the confession. Then, she blinked, her face turning crimson red. You howled.

"... Oh." - Her eyes widened. Then, finally, it all clicked. - "Ohhhh... I see." A beat of silence followed. "This is so fucking embarrassing." - Daichi groaned while as kept on wheezing, convulsing—Mrs. Chiba who leaned her forehead into her hands, was laughing along now despite being embarrassed.

The meeting, for the lack of a better word, was an absolute disaster. Some secrets were better kept behind closed doors.