do you think teenage me is crying her eyeballs out at the thought of me still writing x reader fics 10 years later and not being a doctor like I dreamed of ?
Masterlist btw
I'll make a prettier one someday
—Demon slayer
• Rengoku x Reader | 'Dilated pupils'
• Douma x Reader | 'Stupid people'.
• Giyuu x Reader | Sanemi x reader | 'Hey, I just met you'.
Dating Farkas who's the sweetest man you've ever known but he thinks he's sooo good at hiding his wolf nature; however, you're his first real partner so he has no idea how lovers actually act.
Sometimes when you two cuddle he starts nibbling on your skin. It's cute at first but gets very suspicious when he doesn't initiate anything more, and just mindlessly bites and drools on you until he notices you looking at him curiously. From time to time, you pass by him and give his hair a gentle caress so he just... crouches down and almost sits on the ground to receive more pets.
Though this is all very innocent and fun, until one day the two of you are being silly and flirty together so you tease him, tugging at his collar and pulling him into the bedroom but he gets so excited he literally bodyslams you onto the bed, and you're not sure if the cracking noise was the wood or your ribs.
Older male OC x College student Reader | Just fluff | one shot
You have a hot, exhausted, older neighbour, who doesn't match your flirty energy.
Living in some shitty studio in the worst part of the city wasn't how you had imagined college life. Having an insane crush on your broke, older, and pretty pathetic neighbour, even less. Your teenage diary had lines and lines of you imagining your life with some college athlete who would worship you, some golden retriever that would be the most popular guy in the whole college.
Instead, you shamelessly crushed on this one guy who smelled more like cigarettes than any kind of cologne, wore the same black shirt every damn day (you were pretty sure that the many times you saw him shirtless were just because he needed to wash the damn thing), and hadn't tried flirting with anyone for the last five years. He was thirty-eight, but mentally ready to die of old age.
That evening, he was out on your floor's open-air hallway, leaning over the railing as he smoked a cigarette. He was just out of the shower, having had to scrub the motor oil from under his nails for way more time than he liked to accord to his own self. Working at a garage was supposed to be temporary, but he had never found anything better, and the rent wouldn't pay itself.
You got out of your apartment, wearing your pajamas and an innocent smile on your face.
"Argh..." He let out, a hand rubbing his eyes in exhaustion. The simple squeaking of your front door triggered him. He knew he was about to get bullied by a kid half his age. You called it flirting, though.
"I didn't do anything yet," you defended, your face in a pout.
"More squeaking," he mumbled, though you weren't sure if he was talking about your door or your voice.
"I asked you to oil it for me !"
"I'm not doing this for free," he told you, never having much pity for your broke self. He didn't own enough to be generous anyway.
"I told you I could pay," you reminded, "I could..."
"Shush," he growled, finally turning around with a sigh, leaning his back against the railing to face you. "Just... shush. Don't you dare."
The cold glare he sent you made you giggle, even more when he raised an eyebrow at your pajamas. It wasn't what they looked like; it was the fact that you looked like you had just put them on. They still had the folding creases on them.
"You're going to catch a cold," he commented, not checking you out enough to make you happy.
"See, usually you give the other person your jacket or something," you teased.
"Just go get a damn blanket," he almost snapped at you, making you scurry back into your apartment then coming back with a thin, yet warm plaid over your shoulders. You hesitantly approached him like he was some savage dog, and finally leaned beside him when he seemed calm enough.
The two of you didn't talk much. Well, you did; he mostly listened. You had doubted it at first, during your first meetings, but you realized he always remembered everything you said. He mentioned that one student you hated sometimes, lectured you into finishing your work the nights before the deadline whenever you were out trying to flirt instead of working, or sometimes even asked if things got better when you had a problem. Those were the best moments.
This time, you talked about that one guy in your college who had been trying to flirt with you, a bit too hard in your opinion.
"He just ..! He won't take no for an answer, you know ?" you sighed, shaking your head in disapproval and not minding his eyebrow rising in an accusing expression. "I haven't actually said no, but it was pretty obvious !" you added, pulling the blanket tighter around your shoulders with a huff. "I mean, I told him I was busy when he asked me out; I said I wasn't interested when he invited me to his games... Isn't it obvious ?"
You turned your face to see him, only to see him silently smoking his second cigarette, looking at the wall while in thought. For a moment, you felt a hint of embarrassment creep over you, realizing you probably sounded very childish. And since he took too long to answer, you spoke once again in hope of fixing whatever he was thinking of you; "I guess I should clearly tell him 'no' so he..."
"He can't take a hint. You should have him beaten up," he suddenly cut you off, not even hesitating.
The hallway suddenly got very silent. You looked at him in surprise for a moment, until he turned to you, wondering why you didn't answer. He looked you dead in the eye, making a head gesture that meant 'what ?'
"Have him beaten up ?" you asked, taken aback. He seemed so very serious, it was disturbing. "You mean I beat him up ?"
"No, you have someone beat him up."
You looked down at his hand holding the cigarette, then back to his eyes. Was that weird, older man cringy humor ? Was he serious ? Was that supposed to be cool? Unfortunately, hot older men came with weird behaviour.
"Pretty things don't beat people up themselves," he explained without any second thought, taking a drag of his cigarette.
Your face didn't move an inch. However, your cheeks lit up like your face had been set on fire. You let out an awkward giggle and nodded, looking back at your front door. Well, you could accept the old man humor this time.
He just shrugged it off, not giving you any real advice regarding the situation.
Though, in the end, no beating up had been needed. That same evening, having decided to be a bit more mature, you sent the athlete guy a text telling him you didn't return his feelings and would rather put an end to whatever he was trying to do. Though you had broken his heart, you felt lighter.
And a week later, while coming home from your part-time job in the middle of the night, you ran into your neighbour, who was driving home himself. You raised an eyebrow curiously when an old car stopped right before you, until the window rolled down to reveal him.
"Get in," he said before even greeting you. Without hesitation, you got into the passenger seat, and he looked at you with a hint of annoyance. Thinking you had done something wrong, you froze.
"Just tell me you don't always get into people's cars so easily..." he muttered loudly enough for you to hear.
You frowned, clearly blaming him for it, "You told me to."
"I'm probably not the first," he added, before the car finally moved again.
Not the first time. So, he thought people often wanted your company. The idea made you clutch your bag against your stomach with a smile. He thought you were attractive, right ? Yeah, definitely.
"You know, the guy I told you about..." you started explaining. And for the whole ride home, you told him about how you had clearly rejected him and how he was now leaving you alone. You talked about how he had turned out nicer than you expected, that he took the rejection pretty well and kept sending you the informations you needed despite what happened.
"I did well, right ?" You asked, smiling bright.
Hearing your question, he turned to you, his eyes piercing into yours. Surprised, you looked around, finally realizing that you two were in front of your building. You had no idea for how long he had been waiting for you to be done talking.
"You shouldn't ask that," he finally said with a sigh, this time at least looking straight at you. "Of course you did well. Why do you always want my approval ?"
"I..." you let out, having had the reflex to defend yourself, but turning out to have nothing to say. Your mouth stayed slightly open when he spoke again.
"You're expecting too much from me, sweetheart," he said as he opened his door, finally leaving the car and immediately followed by you.
The two of you walked into the building, and your brain was fuming with his words. Expecting too much ? What did he mean by that ? But before you got to the stairs, he was already walking them up three by three.
"Wait !" you called, hurrying behind him. "What do you mean ?" you asked, trying to walk as fast as him but struggling to do so, and getting exhausted after two floors. "Wait..."
Finally, as you arrived at your floor, you grabbed his shirt, while panting and sweating. "What... What did you mean..."
The view of the city had always been very nice from here. The sight of you looking so worried, your chest heaving as you tried to regain your breath, made it all prettier.
"I'm saying you shouldn't give my opinion any weight," he finally answered, observing your struggling face.
"You never give me your opinion !" You shot back, frowning at him.
"And why do you think that is ?" he said, a hint of a smirk on his face. "The second I tell you to do something, or that you think I expect something from you, you run around like a bunny to complete your task."
"I-I don't !" you answered, voice louder. "I'm only asking for advice !"
"You're not. You're expecting me to lead your life. You wait for me to fix your problems just like you wait for me to fix your door," he added.
"No ! That's not what I'm doing !"
"So what is it ?" He asked, making a step in your direction.
"I'm..." you mumbled, your voice dying down from the embarrassment. You cleared your throat, looking away. Your shoulders made the slightest movement up, showing the tension in your body. "I'm trying to... You know. Trying to look cute," you completed your sentence with the voice of a mouse.
He barely looked surprised, and that was probably your last straw. You added a discreet "forget it," before turning around, walking away, looking grumpier than you had ever been.
He sighed, and stepped your way. Before you knew it, an arm passed above your right shoulder, grabbing gently at your jaw. You could barely let out a "huh" that he had already pulled you against him in the process of forcing your head to turn left. His lips pressed against yours quickly, just long enough to make you understand his thoughts without giving you too much hope.
"Do whatever you want, sweetheart. You'd be cute regardless," he spoke face to face, without any hint of shame. He let go of you just as quickly, and seeing you frozen on the spot, he gave you a little push. "You'll freeze to death. I don't have a jacket to lend you."
online numbers can really fuck you up when it comes to your creative work because you're sharing something you worked on with all your heart but it's very important to remember there's actual people behind those numbers. even if it's 1. that's one whole actual person. that's a human being who said "haha nice". that's a connection with a REAL person with a REAL life and REAL thoughts and feelings and experiences. like. damn. that should mean something
Farkas (Skyrim) x Reader | Farkas writes a letter to Vilkas, regarding Reader
Dear Brother,
I'm sorry that I have to write you a letter, but I've been told you wouldn't be back from your mission before I leave for mine, and I believe this cannot wait. I know you do not like my writing and struggle to read it, so I will try to make this short.
This is about our latest recruit. I am pretty sure you rolled your eyes reading this, but this has nothing to do with their charm what you're thinking of. As you know, I have been sent along on their first quest, so I could prove their honour. I have told everyone else that it all went well, because I am not quite sure what I should actually think about their behaviour. And since you are the smartest of us two, I now seek your opinion.
The recruit is an amazing fighter. While I am not an expert regarding lighter weapons or bows, they perfectly switch between sneaking, shooting, and fighting. However, as we had left Jorrvaskr, while I believed we were on our way to the Cairn, the recruit went across the whole country, completing an absurd amount of tasks with my help. I do believe I would have accepted to help if they had asked, but I do not understand why they wouldn't tell me beforehand. Maybe Sjkor had told them I could help ?
But this, however, was only a slight inconvenience (though a long one). During their quest, I was about to compliment their fighting ability, but as I turned to them I was flabbergasted to see them cracking coffins open and stealing the few coins they found inside. I do agree that those may not be useful for dead people, but this seemed rather disrespectful...
Moreover, for some reason, the recruit wouldn't walk on normal paths. They kept jumping on tables and shelves, would open any closet they could find, even read through most of the old books there. While this wasn't a problem, I felt strangely spooked.
And lastly, you see, we have run into a few bandits on our way back. You know that, of course, it wasn't much trouble for us, and neither was it for them. But after we were done fighting, the recruit observed the bodies in silence. I curiously looked too, and the second one's armor emitted a light glow, the recruit —and believe me, I am not making this up— the recruit began stripping them naked ! I looked in horror, wondering if we had mistakingly hired a thief, and when they met my gaze, they asked for my help !
I now understand why you had told me before that I should learn to say no, as I have indeed helped to strip the corpses.
I could go on about their behaviour for more pages, but these are the parts on which I need your opinion. I believe none of these things are against our rules, but should I warn Kodlak about it ? Please, do not make fun of me, brother. I am truly lost.
Respectfully,
Your brother.
PS: They ate a surprising amount of cheese during the whole adventure. Could this have to do with anything ?
________
Just a quick thing i thought of while playing haha
I was replaying Mystic messenger lately and realized that the reason why I love Zen so much when I usually hate this type of character is because the guy turns out to be 100% serious whenever he has to prove he's as tough as he acts 😭 'yes let me jump right into the dangerous apartment to save my girlfriend before it explodes', 'seven don't go to the hq of the very dangerous unknown sect, unless you take me with you', 'i will fight this unknown dangerous white haired eerie hacker' I love hiiim lmao
Hacker OC (male) x reader | reader gets hacked after downloading a mysterious dating simulator
Part 1 / ?
You had always been told about how dangerous the internet could be. You've followed all of the school interventions regarding online safety, you had been told to not message strangers, don't clink on random links, never download suspicious files...
None of these mattered for a bored adult who had been promised an interesting indie game. Had you ever been into those dating simulators or not before, this exact game was promising. Hot characters and nice art, you didn't ask for much more. Oh, how bored you were. Life had lost any sparkle lately, and you only wanted some stupid game to play for hours. And this one was supposed to be free, too.
But when you launched it, and your laptop froze, you could only sigh in despair. Everything was taking the worst turn it could. Worst was, you knew it was mostly your fault. You should've made sure it was safe... And you didn't. Just hoped for the best while downloading a stupid file which name was a series of numbers and letters.
Slumped on your desk, you only looked up when you heard a small ding from your laptop. It was bright pink, too bright for your poor eyes in the middle of your dark room. For a second, you had the naive hope that what you downloaded was an actual game, only for your hope to be crushed by the words written on the screen.
better be careful next time ! Bleeeh :p
"Fucking idiot," you mumbled to yourself, not sure who you were truly insulting. You leaned against the chair, evaluating the situation. You had no idea what you should do, but you knew what you could do: throw the whole thing out the window and be done with it. It wasn't like you had anything precious on your laptop, except for some files or documents that were supposed to be important, though you couldn't care less about them.
For a few minutes, your brain went completely blank, convincing itself that it was thinking when, truly, it didn't do much. You then finally reached for the keyboard, pressed the 'esc' key again and again, without any success. You closed your eyes for a second, sighing once more. The wi-fi was from the coffee shop down the building. Too bad for them.
You pressed robotically again and again, believing that meant doing something. But finally after a while, the words on the screen disappeared. Your eyes widened in surprise as you thought you had succeeded in escaping the program.
Until a tiny blinking thing appeared on the screen. A text cursor. Frowning, you approached the screen, not having expected this to be here, and now wondering if you had to type something, until the words actually typed themselves.
> "damn, try the task manager or something at least LMAO"
Your mouth fell open, complete shock and annoyance passing through each trait of your face. "Fuck you !" you let out without even thinking.
But an alarming question remained, was that a person, or a program ? Who the hell was that, chatting on your screen ? Since you couldn't know in any way, you pulled your laptop closer, your eyebrows in a deep frown.
> "go to hell"
Indeed, you hadn't thought much. Wrote the first thing that you could think of. And, to your greatest surprise, the writing followed right under yours.
> "lol ok"
> "not my fault you let me in though"
> "fuck you"
> "so vulgar :("
> "that's why your bf left you"
You could only gasp in shock at such a reminder. How far did the person go in your personal data !? Either that was an AI that already read through all of it, or... This person was some bastard who immediately went for the most interesting things.
> "I thought it was a game"
> "dating sim ? LOL how lonely are you"
> "are you a bot ?"
> "what if I am ?"
> "pls leave my laptop..."
> "give me money ?"
> "I have like the equivalent of 10$ to my name"
> "then you should find the money lol"
> "whatever, just keep the computer then"
It seems it is their turn being taken aback, as they didn't answer for a few seconds. You took advantage of it to actually try and open the task manager, without much success. The whole thing was frozen.
> "aren't you going to beg or something ..?"
This hacker sounded like a loser, somehow. Didn't they have some plan ? Probably didn't find anything interesting in your laptop and now didn't know what to do.
> "am I the only person who downloaded your game ?"
> "why the question ?"
> "you sound like you didn't find anyone better than me to extort money from"
> "you're right, you're the only one naive enough to have fallen for this"
Fuck them, actually. Just when you thought you actually had something mean to say, he had something to answer.
> "so why the whole thing if you knew it was too dumb to actually work ?"
> "it was just a test hack, I didn't think anyone would actually download it LMAO"
> "then WHY put it out there"
> "because it's a test ! like, the bad version before I make the good one"
> "yeah I know what's a test"
> "sorry you don't seem very smart.:("
> "I fucking hate you"
> "I'll leave for 100$
> "and I'm actually reducing the price just for you"
> "I don't have that money"
> "then I guess we gotta get along :D"
> "don't you have a job or something"
> "well usually I get money from hacking people"
> "but now I worked for free"
> "too bad"
> "broke, mean and vulgar, pick a struggle"
Reading this last message, you smacked your laptop shut in a worrying cracking noise. Part of you wished you broke it, ending this whole situation. You couldn't deal with this right now, with this... Stupid hacker or whatever. Throwing yourself on your bed, you let out a long exhale. Whatever. A nap would fix this.
*
Sleeping on it did work for many things. Unfortunately, it wasn't an efficient antivirus.
You turned your laptop off, kept it out of battery, didn't connect it to the internet ...but the second you opened it, late in the evening, about 24 hours after you first got hacked, the screen was still pink.
> "back already ?"
Never in your life had you left out such a heavy, deeply rooted in your lungs, sigh. Your head thrown back, you closed your eyes for a second, before focusing back on your screen.
> "I really need my laptop now"
> "begging now, are we ? cute"
> "I'm politely asking"
> "I'm politely declining then"
How could one single person be this insufferable ?
> "are you a man ?"
> "how do you know that ?"
> "... easy guess."
> "I feel insulted somehow"
> "that's one thing right"
> "well I did fool a grown adult into letting me into their laptop"
> "I didn't really 'let you in'""
> "define letting you in"
> "well my program said 'allow to make changes to this device' and you said yes"
> "I'm the change"
> "I would've preferred it if it blew my laptop up"
> "I can arrange that"
Suspicious, you looked at your screen for a long moment. You picked it up, listening to the noise it made. Nothing unusual.
> "You can do that ?"
He seemed hesitant for a second. You weren't sure if he was preparing another joke or if he was trying to blow your laptop.
> "nah lmao. This isn't a movie."
This made you roll your eyes. That guy was terribly unserious for someone trying to blackmail you. When was he going to start actually threatening you ? He didn't seem very scary for now.
> "I could make it crash by running a shit ton of programs, though"
> "Oh ? I can still run programs ?"
> "you, no. I can."
> "why ?"
> "because I hacked your computer, remember ?"
> "that's a confession for the police, later"
> "lmao good luck finding me"
> "so you're a very good hacker ?"
> "the best, obviously"
> "and the police probably wouldn't care enough to hire another hacker against me"
> "true"
> "so can I access my programs ?"
> "no"
> "I hacked you"
> "I decide"
> "fair enough"
> "can I run one thing at least ?"
> "depends, what and why ?"
> "huh"
> "what: navigator"
> "why: because fuck you this is my computer"
Another few seconds of silence.
> "fair enough"
> "I'll be watching though"
And suddenly, a navigator window opened, the brightness of it making you close your eyes for a second. You blinked the pain away, before focusing on it with surprise. He had just let you use your computer, when he was supposed to be getting money out of you. Before you could try anything, the window moved around a bit. It closed first, then opened again in a smaller size.
It seemed to be moving around by itself, or seeing the rather unsteady movements, by someone else. Probably your hacker. He moved the navigator to two thirds of the screen, and on the last third was your chat.
He didn't say anything, but the sight of his chat almost made you chuckle. He wanted you to read what he said so bad. You thought of typing something, but quickly remembered that he was an ass, and instead got to the navigator. You opened a social media of yours, clicked on "new post", and wrote:
"Got my laptop hacked by a loser :/"
Posted.
You waited patiently for his chat, but nothing came up. Instead, a moment later, you received a notification. Someone commented on your post.
@/S3AL— "lmao that's so shitty. Happened to me once, but I found a solution for it. Wait a sec."
Curious, you looked at your chat with the hacker, wondering what he'd think about it. As smug as he was, he didn't seem to care, at least not for now. He probably wouldn't accept that a stranger on social media could find a way to free your laptop from him. Quickly, the user sent another reply with a link attached to it.
Still no news from the hacker. Wondering what he was up to, you clicked on the link, which opened a new window on your browser. Seeing the familiar pink color on it made you freeze. And immediately, you let your head down in despair. The page was completely empty, except for a single sentence:
Sam (Stardew Valley) x reader | Sam tries to be a mature dad
Sam is used to being considered a bit less intelligent than others, or, at least, he felt like he was. So when it was time to be serious, he needed your constant encouragement to feel like he was doing things right.
It was rather cute through your dating life. First time he helped you with your crops, he always came up to you, asking you the most obvious things.
"Is this a carrot ?" while holding out the most orange and carrot-looking carrot.
"Am I scaring the bunny ?" as the fluffy creature cuddled in his laps.
It was terribly cute, actually. Made you lose much time doing any task, but you two bonded over him praising you for being so good at everything, and you helping him get more confident. You were so good to him, his mother always called you his guardian angel. She had always thought he'd stop skating once he became an adult, a real adult, but no, he grew into a man who knew what he liked, and felt very proud of showing off his skating tricks to his life partner, right before getting to clean the house.
The day he became a parent though, he looked at the tiny child, and one of the first things that came to his mind was;
"That's it."
"I'm a man. I have to be a man."
Maybe that very thought was what made him feel so pressured, the constant feeling that he wasn't a real man. That he had to be someone else completely from now on, for the sake of his daughter, and your constant exhaustion with being a parent plus being a farmer gave you less time to listen to him and his pathetic problems.
He had to be an adult, an adult who does things without constantly being helped.
One evening, you passed your front door with exhaustion in each of your muscles. Your daughter was three months old now, still a constantly sleeping baby. The house was rather clean, food simmering in a pot. You looked around for Sam, and found him in the living room. The tv was on, probably as background noise as usual, but he had halted in the middle of the room to watch it.
A band was being interviewed about some albums they were releasing. You didn't know them. Your eyes went from the screen to your husband, and you noticed him rubbing his calloused fingers together. He didn't notice you for a long moment, so you decided to come closer. You smelled like dirt and sweat, but he never cared. So, with your chin resting on his shoulder, your chest against his back, you brought your hand to his.
"You okay, Sam ?" you asked, passing your thumb on the tip of his fingers.
He didn't seem very surprised, having expected you, "Yeah, just thinking."
You noticed it immediately, how the tip of his fingers got way softer. When you met him, his rough fingers were a huge part of him. To you, it was important.
"Where's your guitar ?" you asked with a light frown on your face, realizing that you hadn't seen him play for a while.
He shrugged it off as if it was nothing, "On top of the closet, why ?"
Surprised, you looked up at him. What the hell was it doing there ? When did it move from his corner of the bedroom, where it used to rest between two of his improvised sessions ?
When was the last time you heard a random tune, any time of the day ?
You didn't have answers that evening. You didn't ask, actually, exhaustion was taking over you, and your mind wasn't as clear as it should be.
It was summer now. Your daughter was five months old. For the few months she had been born, she had never heard her father's tunes. In the fresh warmth of the evening, Sam was sitting on the porch. A blanket on the ground, your daughter was lying on it, rolling around under the watchful eyes of her father. You, a few meters away, were planting some last crops for the day.
The last few hours had been bright. You were glad, now, you could somehow feel happy after a long day of work, and not only frustrated. Sam was in a good mood too, his pants rolled up to his knees, taking any last bits of vitamin D the sun could offer today.
And when you were done, you joined him on the porch, downing two glasses of fresh lemonade he offered you. Immediately afterwards, you laid down the floor, your head in his lap. With a loud yawn, you closed your eyes, his hand immediately resting on your head.
... Well, you got two whole minutes of rest before your daughter started crying for attention. Sam gently moved your head, and picked her up, bouncing her in his arms.
"Dad's here, dad's here," he comforted, her small body on his chest, already too unhappy to accept his sole presence as enough of an apology for having given her tummy time one second too long.
And she was very unhappy. Sometimes, babies acted like they just wanted to cry, and that was so frustrating for any parent, no matter how many children they had had.
"Show her the guitar," you suggested, eyes closed. No answer, except for her cries. You opened your eyes after a second, checking on Sam.
His back was turned, still trying to rock his daughter. The sight usually made you smile, but you could see the tension in his shoulders.
"Many people would've loved a father who plays the guitar," you added, rolling on your side, an arm under your head to use as a pillow. "She will, too."
No answer. That was unusual. Sam was someone who loved talking. You sighed, lazily moving your body to stand, before approaching. Sam avoided your gaze, as you took your daughter from his arms.
"Where's my husband, I wonder," you spoke.
Sam's eyes blinked a few times, then finally turned to you. "What ?"
"I see my daughter's dad, but I don't see my husband," you answered, sitting back on the porch, letting your daughter crawl on your thighs. Sam grimaced, looking uncomfortable by your lack of care for her cries. "If she wants to cry, she can cry. Doesn't mean we have to panic our whole way through it," you addressed his discomfort, placing a hand on her back so she wouldn't fall.
"Why not play the guitar ?" you asked more directly now.
Sam hesitated, before finally meeting your gaze. "I don't want to play anymore."
You sighed. "Why not ?"
"Doesn't it feel dumb ?" he asked, opening his heart immediately. He was never good at locking it. "I'll never have my own band."
"So what ? You love playing it," you said.
The frown on your face took him aback. A hand on his neck, he felt even dumber now for bothering you with his emotions when you were just done with your own work.
"I love being a dad, too."
"The two can get along," you said, not deferring. "And skateboarding too. And what about the video games ?"
Silence.
"When she'll need to beat a very tough level in a videogame, what will she do ?" you asked, your voice softer.
Her cries got louder, so you finally picked her up, sighing discreetly. As you stood up to rock her better, Sam kept observing you. He wanted to take her in his arms, but you did it so much better. You did everything so much better.
"I loved when you would skate on the road down the farm," you mumbled, partially to yourself.
Finally, Sam let out a chuckle as he remembered exactly what you talked about. He would always pretend he wasn't thinking and ended up skating on the road that led to the farm, just to run into you.
"I had a massive crush on you, what could I do ?" he asked, amused.
"Right ?" you chuckled back. "That was so silly of you. And you played louder to impress me when I came to give your mother some commissions she asked for."
Sam looked away, blushing slightly despite his amusement. "Did I ? I don't remember that."
You shook your head at the sight of your husband, unable to look truly serious. Your gaze met his, and your eyes softened. "Well, I was... Already rather old, wasn't I ?"
Curious, he tilted his head. Old ? You weren't old ! Seeing his expression, you explained;
"At my age, do you think it was immature of me to fall for a man who played the guitar, skated to his crush and had dreams of being in a band ?"
"What ?" his eyes widened, thinking you were accusing him of criticizing you, "Not at all !"
"Then did I make the wrong choice, getting married to that man ?" you spoke in annoyance.
"N-no, of course not !" he said, having been talked through being confident one too many times.
"Or maybe I messed up thinking I could have a child with that guy ?" you added.
"Of course not ! I mean, you thought it through, didn't you !?" he asked back, worry on his face.
You looked at him with patience, but an obviously accusing look. It was getting to him, slowly, you could see it in his expression.
And finally, he sighed in defeat, his arms falling at his sides. He would have to confess, wouldn't he ?
"I think I should try and... Be more mature," he let out.
His words made your eyes widen slightly. You knew it would be something along those lines, but hadn't expected the notion of maturity to be part of it. You approached him now that your daughter had calmed down, giving her to him. Smiling lightly, he held her close, her now tired little eyes closing as she snuggled to her dad.
"So what ? You try to be mature, so you stop everything you love ?" you asked.
Sam looked up awkwardly, resting his chin on her head. He seemed calmer, now that he had her.
"I didn't stop everything I love ! See, I have the two people I love with me," he said back, careful to keep his voice low.
Annoyed yet teasing, you crossed your arms. "Did our daughter do something wrong ?"
Sam almost stepped back from the sudden, very impromptu, question. "What ? No !"
"Then why are you punishing her !?"
"Punishing !?" he repeated, still very confused.
"Yes," you retorted, not backing out. "How come everyone had the luck of meeting a cute and funny Sam and when she comes into the picture you decide to change into serious and b—"
His eyes widened completely now, waiting for your last word. A warning ? You strengthened your arms, gathered all of your courage:
"—boring."
Placing a hand onto your daughter's ear, Sam let out the most shocked gasp a human could express. Never in his rather short life had he been called boring. He had definitely been called many things, but boring wasn't one of them.
You kept nodding, as if you had no regrets about what you just said, while Sam was now rethinking every decision he had made until now.
"Do you not like it !?" he said with his still outraged tone.
"I hate it !" you mumbled with the same frown since earlier.
Sam looked away, then back at you. Then, he looked at his daughter, and back at you again.
"Then why am I doing any of this !?" he blabbered in complete shock.
"I have no idea !" you said with a dramatic shrug.
His threw his head back, thinking deeply.
"Am I not a good dad ?" he asked, a bit calmer now that he took a few seconds.
With a little apologizing grimace, you shook your head hesitantly. "Huh... You're an amazing dad. You'll always be... Definitely a boring dad, though."
He took a deep breath, that seemed to be much needed, seeing as it filled his lungs completely. "... I'm turning into my dad."
You pursed your lips, staying silent. That was the one thing you didn't dare to say. But after a second, his eyes went back to you, and he could read the answer on your face.
"I'm getting my guitar," he said suddenly, turning around to get back inside.
Well, he was outraged, but definitely felt lighter.
[tw for misogyny and forced marriage, reader had an abusive father, none of those from rengoku tho]
Rengoku had always been an amazing husband, ever since you two got married, three years ago. You met during childhood, your parents having been great friends, and when the two of you became adults, your fathers arranged your marriage. Both of you were of age, and it was said that Rengoku's mother had truly liked you, back in her living days.
"He's a great friend of mine. His family is in need of a woman, you better make yourself useful."
The words from your father always stuck to you. From the day of your wedding to now, you had always done everything you thought Rengoku would expect from you, without him having to say it. You always cooked delicious meals, you kept the house clean, you avoided getting Kyojuro's father angry, and kept Senjuro company when his brother was away.
The first year had been tough, since Shinjuro was rather scary, and you always expected him to be as violent as your father could get whenever he was angry. Anxiety always gripped at your throat, the constant questioning of how to be a good wife filling your mind. You felt like there was no way you had what it takes to be a wife, even less the wife of such a strong-minded man, someone so admirable and dutiful.
But a year passed, and you warmed up to this life. Kyojuro was often away but always came back with a bright smile, he was always complimenting everything you did and was grateful for anything. Senjuro was a lovely young man, not very open about whatever he was feeling, but seemed to like your company, even helping you with all the chores. Their father obviously hadn't warmed to your presence, actually, it was like having you around was more annoying than anything. But he usually just ignored you, and just as Kyojuro promised, he never raised his hand against you.
And when one year turned into three, you were a completely different person.
Humming to yourself, you prepared a hearty meal for your husband who would be back from a two weeks long trip today. Senjuro was helping you prepare the fish you'd fry later, smiling at the sight of his brother's wife caring for him. The younger man had been a silent observer of your relationship with Kyojuro, and he was aware of how stressed out you were at first, but could tell that it was all gone now.
And when Kyojuro entered the estate in the evening, you were the first to go and greet him with you ever so polite, yet affectionate smile.
But this time, you quickly lost your smile when you noticed Kyojuro's rather serious expression. He had a smile on his face too, yet, it didn't completely reach his ears as it usually did. Something was bothering him.
"I'm happy to see you too", "Thank you for the delicious meal", he gave you all of the usual gratefulness, but something was off. By the end of dinner, he politely stood up from the table, saying that he'd go and greet his father, as he always did. Senjuro's expression was quite worried, and you comforted him as you could, saying that Kyojuro must be tired, or maybe something happened during a mission. After all, his work wasn't always the easiest.
But truth was, you felt like the world was about to swallow you whole. You could hear your father's cruel words in your mind, as clearly as if he was standing beside you, telling you how you messed up. You had failed, you weren't the wife he was happy to come home to anymore. Cleaning the dishes, you tried to stop your hands from shaking, but you couldn't.
And a few days went by, your husband being someone else. Senjuro tried to talk to him, only to be told it was nothing. You, on the other side, were too scared to hear what he would have to say. He came back to your wing of the estate later in the night as if to not see you, and left early in the morning before you woke up. You felt lonely, which was weird, because three years ago, it was exactly what you would have wanted. This distance, this life of only doing your duty as a wife and never having to actually spend time with Kyojuro.
Until one night, you woke up alone in your room. At first, you sadly tried to go back to sleep, until you noticed how dark it was already. It wasn't just evening, it was the dead of the night. You hesitated for a moment, before standing up, quickly putting the clothing to be presentable, before leaving the room. You looked around your quarter but didn't see Kyojuro anywhere.
It took you a moment of discreetly looking around the estate before you finally found him, sitting on a stone bench in the gardens. Anxiety got to you, and for a moment, you only stood there, looking at his back from so far away. What use would you even be ? He was an amazing person who worked so hard every day. You should have expected him to one day realize how bad of a wife you were. If your fathers hadn't arranged a marriage, never would someone like Kyojuro even look your way.
You turned around, planning on going back to bed. However, after you made the slightest noise stepping on a rock, Kyojuro suddenly turned to you, eyes wide. Your gaze met his, the silence of the night suddenly as thick as honey. You looked down at your feet, having no idea what to do. He hadn't spoken yet, which proved that he wasn't like usual. Was there ever a moment he didn't immediately start chattering your boredom away ?
The memories of all the times he had done that were what actually held you back. Three years of listening to him. You had to listen once more. Even if, maybe, it was the last time.
You approached the bench under his attentive eyes, and sat by his side.
"You didn't come to bed," you spoke, breaking through the silence.
Rengoku's lips twitched into a loving smile, surprising you. He seemed glad you worried for him. Seeing his expression, the air around you went from uncomfortable to a nice, warm breeze.
"What is it, Kyojuro ? I know there is something on your mind," you finally managed to mutter, hiding your trembling hands in the folds of your clothes. "Have I done something ?"
Kyojuro turned back to the garden. During this season, it grew nice savage flowers. Kyojuro took a deep breath that sounded so loud in the middle of the night. He was such a loud person overall, but not in the same way your family used to be.
"I met someone lately," he answered in a confident voice.
Immediately, you turned to him with big, worried eyes.
"No !" he cut your thoughts off. "Not in that way !"
You blinked in surprise, before chuckling the stress away, rubbing your eyes. What did you just feel ? Why did you suddenly feel like your heart had almost burst out of your chest ? Rengoku's expression softened. He loved seeing you laugh. It happened so rarely, he was pretty sure he hadn't seen any real smile from you during your first year together.
But he had to ruin it. He had to be honest about it all. Today, even if it's the last.
"It's someone from your village. A young woman your age, who is now living where my last mission took place," he explained, his voice weirdly low. This was rare too. Whatever would happen now would define the rest of your life, you could feel it in your guts.
"Your father was quite popular in your village ! Ah, she knew so much about you. She did say you probably didn't know her," he said brightly, but something in his tone was off. And, slowly, he lost his smile. The warmth around you got suffocating again. Rengoku looked at you like he looked at his father, hesitant, full of pity. "You didn't want to marry me."
His words were like the impact of a stone on a calm lake. A lake he had been the one to sooth into calmly resting in its bed. It wasn't a question. Back then, you hadn't even pretended to want to get married. You accepted your fate, desperate for something to come and save you, but never willing to look for it yourself. Everyone around you knew it. Your father wasn't anyone you could say no to.
So that was what he had been thinking about lately. That was what kept him awake at night, what stopped him from kissing you discreetly when you seemed to be in the mood for it, what made him rethink everything between you and him.
But only one question passed your lips;
"Did you ?"
His cheeks flared up, his face turning away. Your eyes were round like moons searching for the suns that were his. Did he ?
"I... I didn't know your father forced you into this marriage. I promise," his words were apologies more than explanations. He kept rethinking everything you had done until now. You weren't shy, you were unhappy. You probably hated being his, listening to him, being kissed by him.
"Did you accept being married to me ?" you asked again, leaning towards him. You needed an answer.
Rengoku leaned backwards, away from you. He was more embarrassed than he had ever been. You discovered a whole new side of your husband. "I was willing to try," he finally answered. "The times we met in prevision of our engagement, I appreciated your personality. Your willingness to do things right, it's something I truly liked. Your calmness, too."
You nodded, turning your gaze to the garden too now. The two of you were distraught, both wondering where this discussion would lead. You were walking a tight rope. But the thread in your mind, the very thin barrier that kept you so calm snapped at his praises without you realizing it.
Seeing your hands fist on the fabric of your clothing, Kyojuro dared to ask you what he needed to know about, "but you didn't, right ? You must have hated being my wife. Remaining calm, doing what you were told, you've done it all against your will."
You tried to hold it in, but he somehow pulled the tears out of your eyes without you controlling it. You surprised yourself, touching your cheeks with the tips of your fingers. Never have you cried since you married Kyojuro, even the nights you looked out at the full moon, only you and your thoughts, you never shed tears like you did right now, when Kyojuro somehow put the finger on what you had desperately hidden.
You saw Kyojuro's hesitating hands. He wanted to comfort you, probably pull you into his warm arms, but he didn't want to do any more harm than he had already. That sight made you smile wide, completely taking him aback.
"Oh, I hated it alright," you confirmed, nodding. It was the most honest you had ever been your whole life, and the look on his face made you understand that even before you truly realized it, you were already so comfortable with Kyojuro. You felt safe with him, like you had never before. "To be honest, I hate cleaning your house. It's too big and there's always dust everywhere, the garden's dirt gets inside too, and I have to sweep it all away, days and nights."
Kyojuro's hand halted in the air, before you took it in yours. He had so many apologies he wanted to make, but you seemed to want to let it all out first.
"And it's crazy, because you never actually asked me to do it. And the times you got home early and didn't have any food ready, you always helped me cook," you added, laughing as the tears kept streaming. "Just like you force me to stop trying to work when I'm exhausted. And you always bring me to the market to buy myself nice things when I refuse to do it. You always write letters first, you ask Senjuro if I seem to be doing alright when you're away, too."
He laughed about this last information, joining you. He was unaware that you had found out about it.
"I thought you were just a very picky person, that you didn't like spending money and liked when things were tidy," he said, obviously way more saddened that he let it know. "But you must have been so scared."
You leaned down, your shoulders falling as you kept laughing, the tears running down your nose and dripping on your thighs. You had been terrified your whole life, trying to be someone you weren't. Reaching for an ideal that had nothing to do with the real you. He didn't need you to confirm it. He hated that he had never seen it. He approached, gently pulling you into his arms, slowly enough so you could easily back out.
Instead, you melted against him. You weren't laughing anymore, years and years of frustration and fear soaking his chest.
"I love you so much, Kyojuro," you finally let out, needing to set this right. Oh, how in love you were with the man that was always doing anything to make you happy, always being the fairest he could to you. The man who came into your life like the sun after a long, dark night.
These three words sent a shiver down his spine, and he unknowingly tightened his hold on you. He thought he had been your hangman, accusing himself of the remains of your miserable life under your father's authority. But you knew better, he was slowly walking you through the beauty of this life.
"I love you too... I love you so deeply. Please allow me to do things right. I don't care if I never ever have a warm meal anymore or if our house is constantly dusty !" His voice slowly took back its usual tone, while yours would never go back to what it was. He moved his hands to grab your cheeks, gently forcing you to face him, looking at your puffy eyes.
"You're so beautiful, right now. Please, don't try to be someone else. If you prefer, don't even call yourself mine."
His thumb wiped a tear away, his expression blinding you with the love shining through it. Rengoku leaned towards you, resting his forehead against yours.
"But, my love, can I please be yours ?"
________
Don't even TRY to read this a forced marriage propaganda
Gojo is definitely the kind of guy you start dating thinking how lucky you are to get a guy so out of your league, only to wonder how he hid how pathetic he is from you, a month into the relationship.
It would probably start the day you see him bullying a student of his, and your mind goes '???' at the sight of a man pushing thirties acting like he's on the same level as teenagers.
And it gets confirmed when you see him interacting with colleagues and you come to realize... Does your boyfriend have any friends ?
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