Tumgik
#wrote a whole chapter just listening to this
merge-conflict · 10 months
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the damn things overlap, ch10 - present perfect
chapter summary: IF THE VAN'S A-ROCKING DON'T COME KNOCKING
It took an enormous amount of self-control for her not to flinch as he swept his hands up her stomach and to her chest. But she could not hide the feeling entirely, and he stopped with his eyes locked on hers. She exhaled slowly, cupping his face, and then pulled him into her. He kissed her softly just over the breastbone and the tension melted out of her entirely.
“My dear,” she said, still delighted with the lavishness of it. “My dear.”
Goro laughed. His shirt joined hers, rather more neatly folded, and he pulled his hair out of its binding. V ran her hands through it, finger-combing out the waves left from tying it back damp. He rested his forehead against her good collarbone while she worked, grumbling happily. When she was done smoothing back the gray strands at his temple he lifted his head, pulling her closer by the hips. His torso was shockingly warm compared to the more moderate heat of his hands, marked with scars she could feel but not see.
“V–“ he said, with grave fondness.
“Valentine.”
“Valentine,” he repeated, as though he’d just been given a gift.
Her heart seized in her chest, and she pushed him back onto the mats, heedlessly stripping off the rest of her clothes as he did the same. He was beautiful. Devastatingly so– flawlessly elegant cyberware offset by a still organic core. Had he chosen that himself? Kept a piece of himself no one else would be expected to see? Knitted together, healed over, imperfectly perfect. She could contain herself no longer, trading the moment of gentle awe for the chance to get her hands on as much of him as she could reach.
“You are so hungry,” he observed with clear approval, as he pulled her back into his lap.
V laughed, snapping her teeth together. “Starving.”
Read more here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/41966397/chapters/112957099
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orcelito · 1 year
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genuinely tho me jumping right into reading volume 9 of trimax and then volume 10 (and then most of the rest of the manga) on the night before i had a presentation at 9:30 am (that was entirely not prepared) was literally one of the most unhinged decisions ive ever made
this is what a hyperfixation does to a person
#speculation nation#like that experience was transcendent. i will NEVER be repeating it again but it sure was something#crying 5 times in a night chugging my monster perusing the wolfwood tag tearfully as i listen to the same sad song on repeat for an hour#struggling to get myself to work on the presentation but continuously going back to the manga bc it was SOOO GOOOD#me being like 'im gonna need a few days to process and heal' after reading volume 10 but then after an hour just. starting reading more.#gettign only 2 hours of sleep bc i was like 'ok i need to recover from crying Five Times and then i will focus entirely on this'#literally what is wrong with me lmfao. this sure was something.#this was literally just last week. i can hardly believe it.#this happened on tuesday/wednesday. i spent wednesday recovering. then on thursday i was like 'ok time to write'#there was hardly ANY wait time before i jumped into my next writing project#bc i had the idea after volume 10 but waited until i finished the manga to see where would be the best time to implement it#& that shit with the plants was the PERFECT time. i knew as soon as it happened that That was what i was gonna use.#wrote chapter 1 within a day (while working) then chapter 2 within a day (while working)#then chapter 3 within 2 days (while working AND doing family stuff)#guys i havent had a proper day off of work in over a week bc i covered on tuesday and came in on wednesday and covered on sunday#uhm. sunday before yesterday. i think my last day off was actually uh. the thursday before? a week and a half ago.#and im not getting a day off until thursday. two whole goddamned weeks. i am having a fucking time for sure.#and what do you know that coincides with The Time. oh i dont think it was even thursday. when the fuck was my last day off#uhmmm. oh haha it was that tuesday. aka the 18th. i havent had a goddamned day off since the 18th.#head in my hands. i am losing my fucking mind.#literally unhinged. and it makes sooo much sense now lmfao.
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quaranmine · 2 years
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normally on htbahb and i'll be waiting i can dangle stuff like "hey theres a grian and mumbo conversation scene to write" in front of myself like a cool carrot bc i enjoy writing them but the last one i wrote i got lost in my own plot and confused MYSELF on whatever the hell they're talking about. so.
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milequaritchsslut · 11 months
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Chapter One — Never Really Gone
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Summary: Ever since you left your controlling ex boyfriend Miguel, you can’t seem to shake the feeling that your being watched. Little did you know he never left your side, not for one second
Pairing: Ex boyfriend stalker!Miguel x Fem!reader
Warnings: Stalking, perverted thoughts, non consensual viewing, sabotage, bad self image, manipulation, obsession
Series Masterlist
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He was in love, with you. The love of his life, it was you. It would always be you, the woman of his dreams. The woman he never let be by herself, the woman he showered with his love and affection, the woman he sleep next to every night for years, the woman who dumped him. He was in shock when you left him, the way you yelled and screamed at him, telling him how controlling and obsessive he was when it came to you. His heart broke a bit, only a bit though. He didn’t believe a word you said, he knew you loved him. You were just being dramatic right? That’s what he told you at least, right before you walked out the door and into a new life.
It had been a few months since you two had talked, but he never left your side. Not for one moment, he had your whole schedule down. The fact that you woke up every week day at 9:00am sharp, you then walked to the kitchen to make breakfast, usually 2 pieces of toast and a glass of orange juice. You then got ready putting on your clothes taking about 15 minutes fairly, then you would do your hair, brushing through your thick curls. Letting your hair out, falling against your face and covering the sides of your light features, highlighting your beautiful attributes. He wrote it all down, how many times you looked at your phone, what you looked at on your phone. He knew you better then you knew yourself
He wasn’t one to beg, it was simple really. You were his no matter what you did, no matter how many hook ups you had. He didn’t mind them, in fact he appreciated them, cause he knew they would never be able to please you like he did. He knew every sweet spot on that heavenly body of yours, how to make you whine and whither under him in seconds. He gave you whatever you desired, every single little thing you wanted you got. All he had asked was that you listened to his many rules, but you couldn’t even do that could you?
But that was ok because you were perfect in his eyes no matter what. Every mistake you made he ignored, cause you never made mistakes, his pretty little princess was perfect, clean from any sins and impurities. You really were a beautiful Angel, fallen from the home of ecstasy. But you needed to be protected, from this harsh and cruel world. Oh needed to stay inside, with only him. Because he was the only person on this planet who could take care of you, the only one you needed. You were nothing without him, that’s what he told you before bed every night. Telling you about how he gave you everything, and the least you owed him was your obedience and submission. But of course you had to be a naughty little princess and discard his very clear and simple rules didn’t you? But he’d have you back in no time, faster then he could snap his fingers.
Tonight you had a date, a dinner date at a nice restaurant. His name was Ryan, a tall thin and kind man. You two had been talking for about a month now, he was a sweet man. He sent you gifts, but you never got them. He had asked you many times if you’d received the beautiful displays of Lillie’s and roses he sent via mail. But your mind went blank and confused, your eyebrows furrowed, you simply had no idea what he was talking about. Miguel laughed at this, he had been taking those roses for weeks now. Throwing them in a nearby trash, leaving them to rot without you ever seeing them. He couldn’t have his princess being buttered up by another man could he?
You sat on the edge of your bed, legs crossed and sitting pretty. You had put on a tight black dress, a small slit on the bottom left. Some vanilla scented perfume and your usual makeup routine. You were getting anxious, Ryan was supposed to pick you up 5 minutes ago and he wasn’t answering your texts. Miguel had set up a watching area right by your window, watching how your legs squeezed together in anxiousness. The way you brushed and fixed your hair one too many times, getting antsy for him to arrive. He smiled at your idioticness, laughing as you waited for a man who would never show.
A few texts and calls later you finished up empty handed, he stood you up. You cursed yourself for being so dumb, of course he wasn’t gonna show up. You had nothing to offer is what you told yourself, just like Miguel said. You were nothing without him, just another girl that was dumped and thrown to the side. He watched as your confidence plummeted, just as he expected. Every step of his plan going hand in hand, like pieces of a puzzle slowly but surely fitting together. You were dumb to say the least, you really fell for a simple and plain man like Ryan? So predictable
Ryan wasn’t any happier, somehow his internet was shut off. He had a good network, and a decent phone line. So he just couldn’t figure out why he wasn’t able to text you? But that was alright he would just drive over, he had put on a nice suit and a black tie. Walking out to his driveway, his eyes widened in disbelief. His tires were flat, no air or anything in them. Like deflated balloons, a child had just let go of and flew across the room. Miguel laughed again, snickering at your dates little mishap, or was it just a coincidence?
Well either way he wasn’t able to reach you, your heart breaking as you threw your dress to the side and slipped into your silk pink pajamas. You stormed off to the bathroom, wiping off the remaining of your makeup. It was a waste really, all of that lotion, shampoo, conditioner, and perfume you used for nothing. The aggression in your wiping was getting harder and harder, a few eyelashes being ripped off as you threw the wipe into the trash bin. ‘So fucking dumb’ is what you kept repeating in your mind, how could you be so stupid? You were so boring and plain, why would he take you out? Looking up at yourself in the mirror you sighed, scanning your bare and rough face, hands tracing the smudged mascara and lipgloss wiped along your face. You were a mess, and all over some guy you met on a dating app? God were you helpless, your lips formed a pout, holding back the tear that had mistakenly slipped past your thick eyelashes and down your cheek.
You weren’t gonna let yourself sulk and cry over some stupid guy, you weren’t that pathetic at least. Walking to the kitchen, you opened the fridge, the bright light stinging your eyes as you let out a small hiss. You rummaged through your pantry, finding that ice cream you liked. Topped with that fruit your mom had dropped off, and whipping cream you had gotten awhile ago. Your ingredients were splayed across the table, hands placing everything into where they needed to be. It was perfect, an ice cream sundae. You smiled, the tears drying up and a sense of peace replacing it. That was until you heard a knock at your door, you sighed, slightly annoyed by the small inconvenience. You mopped over to the door, undoing the chain and turning the knob. To be met with a strange looking man, tall, muscular, dark black hair, and a jet black hoodie with some baggy sweatpants.
“Who are you?” You asked, eyes trying to see his face better through his dark hooded face. He reached down, hands lifting your chin to see him. A sadistic grin danced on his face as he took a step forward, stepping into your home with his muddied boots. Finally his other hand came to pull his hoodie off, his face now clear as day to you. Your stomach dropping, eyes widening, as all color from your face drained. It was him.
“Did you miss me mami?”
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siilvan · 9 months
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HELLOOO! I hope your requests are open, if not take this as a (filthy) plot suggestion
you and price were alone in the middle of nowhere for a mission. It went pretty good and it ended quickly. the evac would not come until morning, so you found a safe house to settle for the night. you weren't an official couple yet, but it was obvious that there was something between you two. since there was nothing to do, you began joking around and laugh at stupid jokes, and jokingly you you sat on his lap, to jokingly flirt. he got immediately excited but he didn't want to admit it. so you show him that it was effectively like this 🤭
dusk
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characters: john price
summary: you decide to take advantage of being alone with the captain for the night.
genre: general, explicit, fem!reader (no desc.)
warnings: semi-proofread, cursing, reader is shorter than price, grinding, fingering, riding, unprotected piv, lotsa praise
word count: 4.2k
note: sorry i didn’t post for a month do you guys still like me
i’m also sososo sorry if the quality isn’t up to par, i wrote this over like 4 weeks— i hope the semi-longer chapter makes up for it <3
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"come on, inside." price’s gruff command guides you through the wooden door and into the apartment. while shaking off the grime and lingering adrenaline, you take in the interior. laswell’s description was spot on: modest, discreet, and unfit for long-term usage. as if reading your thoughts, price huffs out a laugh from next to you.
"it’s not much, but it’ll do for the night," he says, stepping further into the space. the slightly rotted floorboards creaked under his heavy boots, as if rejecting your very presence. "we’ve camped out in worse places, haven’t we, lieutenant?"
you hum while considering your response. "suppose we have, this place at least has a bathroom." he follows your eyes as you nod towards the door at the other end of the room, left open to reveal a humble bathroom. "hope it has hot water, i’d murder for a warm shower right now."
price shrugs before motioning in the same direction. "feel free to try it out, then. just be sure to keep your voice down if you’re displeased."
"should i invite you to join if i’m pleased, captain?" you ask, blinking up at him with a small smile on your lips. the question is laced with faux curiosity - you’re already well aware of what his answer will be.
"perhaps a cold shower would be better for now." he responds, stepping closer to you. the distinct scent of cigar smoke and dry wood cologne invades your senses as he holds your chin in a gentle grip, angling your head upwards. "what d'you think, sweetheart?" the rough pad of his thumb runs across your bottom lip, forcing you to part them and effectively wiping the smile off your face.
"i think…" you murmur, lifting your hands up to press them flat against his vest. "…that i’ll try to leave some hot water for you, since i’m so nice."
his eyes narrow as your palms slide upwards to his chest; a sensation he couldn’t quite feel through the thick material separating the two of you, but it sent heat through his veins and pooling in his stomach nonetheless.
you step back and disappear into the bathroom without another word. price’s eyes follow you the whole way, and a low sigh escapes him once the door is closed behind you. he shakes his head and tugs on the front of his vest, right above where your hands had rested just moments before.
"yeah, a fuckin' angel’s what you are." he mutters, sarcasm and fondness equally mixing in his tone.
the water felt like ice on your skin, much to your chagrin. the relaxing shower you had hoped for was instead a quick rinse followed by a grumbled string of curses as you toweled yourself off. despite your disappointment, you were just thankful to be clean.
price’s voice, albeit slightly muffled, was audible through the door. you’d be lying if you said you weren’t tempted to listen in on his conversation, so you do what any curious person would do: crack the door open just enough to hear him clearly.
"everything’ll be fine, kate. you don’t need to worry about us." price says with a short chuckle. he starts to speak again, until a voice in the radio interrupts him. you push the door further open, desperately trying to make out what the other voice - laswell, you presume - says in response, but to no avail. whatever she says pulls a frustrated noise from his lips.
"we’ve never had any problems before, have we?" the distinct sounds of old furniture groaning under unwelcome weight signals that he’s sitting now. "i’ve heard this speech a hundred times already, you don’t need to repeat it. we’re both adults perfectly capable of staying on-task for one night."
thoughts of what price could possibly be talking about swiftly flood your brain, pulling your attention from the ongoing conversation. ever since meeting the captain, it was obvious that there was something between you two; "fast friends" soon turned into a mutual attraction that neither of you were willing to firmly acknowledge or deny. innocent flirting had evolved into an agonizing tension, slowly driving you mad while simultaneously drawing you in deeper.
at this point, you’re ready to follow the man to his quarters and cut the tension yourself because, despite his straightforward nature in all other fields, price refuses to take the first step with you. leaving yourself to speculate on why only leads to more questions, so you choose to focus on ways to make him finally snap instead.
there’s a knock against the doorframe, making you jolt and let out an embarrassing yelp. through the sizable crack in the door, you can see price eyeing you down with a sly smile adorning his face.
"have a good shower, lieutenant?" he asks with a tilt of his head. he knew you were listening, that much you could tell.
you open the door fully, allowing him to lift an arm to lean against the frame, his body cutting off your only escape route. still, you try to avoid his gaze. "it was cold," you concede with a grimace. "you and laswell having problems, captain?"
price chuckles to himself, shaking his head. "i wouldn’t call it 'problems,'" he pulls back and straightens his stance, somehow making himself look even bigger than he did leaning over you. "she thinks we’re not to be trusted overnight."
you would be offended by the claim, if it wasn’t completely true. standing in front of him only serves to flood your mind with things you could do while alone together, completely disregarding your training that commands you to stay on-guard. at this moment, you felt more like a hormonal teenager daydreaming about her crush than a soldier.
"i have no idea why she’d think that." you scoff dramatically, feigning shock. "we’re professionals, we can handle ourselves for one night." you manage to shoulder past him and back into the main living space. with an innocent smile playing on your lips, you settle on one side of the couch.
"proving her wrong, eh? we can do that." price follows your example and takes up the other half. your eyes are practically glued to him as he shifts and gets comfortable, legs spreading while his arms settle on the back and the arm of the couch. the dark fabric of his uniform is slightly strained in his current position, perfectly showcasing his hulking, athletic physique under the layers of clothing.
you really wouldn’t complain about being crushed under him.
"tell me a joke," you mutter after clearing your throat, thighs squeezing together as you attempt to get your thoughts back on track. "laswell never said anything about jokes being inappropriate, right?"
price’s head lolls back against the cushion as he pretends to genuinely consider your question. "no, she didn’t. suppose there’s no harm in having a little fun, is there?" he says, sending you a cursory glance and a small smile. his tongue darts out to wet his bottom lip before he shifts again to face you.
"all right, i got one." he chuckles to himself and leans forward. "what do you call a shipment full of military-issued t-rexes?"
you give him a tight-lipped smile and a soft 'hmm?', already slightly regretting your decision. just slightly, though. the smile on his face morphs into a cheeky grin before he continues.
"small arms."
you groan and shake your head in disapproval. "that was awful, price. i think i’d rather listen to ghost’s puns over that." you complain amidst the occasional chuckles leaving your lips. despite the awfulness, he still managed to make you laugh.
"ah, don’t be so quick to defend him. he’s who i stole the joke from." price confesses, crossing his arms over his chest and watching as your shoulders shake softly from subdued laughter.
"i should’ve guessed, that has 'two goldfish in a tank' written all over it." you shake your head once more and look at him again. you blink in surprise when you realize that his gaze is already on you, practically burning against your skin. there was something there, swimming in his pale irises whenever he looked at you. the naivety inside you called it yearning, and the cynicism called it meaningless lust.
still, you wanted him. physically, and perhaps even more. you'd hate yourself for letting an opportunity like this slip by.
"since you're no comedian, sir, why don't we try something else?" you close the short distance between the two of you and toss your leg over his knee, settling yourself on his lap. "we're both professionals, so surely a little... closeness, wouldn't be an issue for us, right?" your hands come up to rest on his broad shoulders as you lean back, keeping a respectable distance despite your current position.
price stares at you wordlessly for a few seconds, his clenched jaw and softly furrowed brow being response enough. you decide to test the waters, shifting forward and back gently, playing it off as an adjustment for comfort. his hand immediately leaves the arm of the couch and lands on your hip, rendering you motionless above him.
"you wanna test me, is that it?" he asks. a shiver racks your spine from the low timbre of his voice, the question practically leaving his lips in a growl. "get yourself a win, so you can brag for a week about beating the captain?" the hand still resting atop the back cushion leaves it to join the other on your hips.
you shrug nonchalantly, fighting the urge to melt under his touch. "your words, not mine. all i want to do is be close to my dearly beloved commander - we are alone in foreign territory, after all." you fight against his hold, trying to move against his thighs.
you'd rather die than admit that you're already soaking through your underwear from just this. you don't need price to gloat about winning, you need him to fuck you stupid. unbeknownst to you, the man was currently fighting every urge to do exactly that. he could feel himself getting hard inside his slacks, his cock straining hard against the material.
he doesn't fight when you bend your upper body forward, hands sliding from his shoulders to his chest, as you speak softly next to his ear. "what if i get scared or cold, sir? won't you take care of me, since you're so kind to me?" your breath brushes against his skin as you whisper, earning a firm squeeze that most definitely leaves crescent-shaped marks on your skin.
it was a losing battle, anyway.
you let out a surprised yelp when he suddenly pulls your bodies flush, your chests pressed together with only your hands to separate them. his hips buck up into you, pulling a shameless moan from your lips. you respond in kind, hands fisting in his uniform as you grind against the imprint on his pants.
"price–"
"you’re a fuckin' tease, y'know that?" price huffs, a low noise escaping him while you rock back and forth. he starts pushing and pulling you along meanwhile, pressing you down harder against him and pulling stuttering breaths from the both of you.
"tell me what you want, love."
"want your cock–"
"you haven’t earned it yet."
you let out a frustrated groan at his response. price merely chuckles and holds you still again, preventing you from even trying to chase the high you’ve been craving for what felt like an eternity.
"i want you to be a good girl, and get yourself off on my thigh." he ducks his head to press a kiss against your jaw, forcing you to tilt your head back to make room for him. "i’ve seen you stare at them before, i know you’ve thought about it, love."
he drags his lips upwards, his coarse beard prickly against your skin, until he reaches your ear. "go on. show me just how badly you’ve been wanting this."
like a good soldier, you take orders well. you waste no time in lifting yourself up to straddle his large thigh, biting back a moan as you rub your clothed core against him. price groans and leans back to watch with hooded eyes as you buck your hips, enraptured with the sight.
"c’mon, wanna hear you– don’t go quiet on me, now."
"fuck, captain–"
"attagirl." his hands move from your hips to drag your shirt up and over your head. he tosses it somewhere across the room, his attention shifting to your newly-exposed skin. he moans, guttural and deep, at the sight, and the sound only adds to the arousal already dripping from your core.
you grind down hard against his thigh, soaking through your underwear onto your uniform pants. you're sure price’s cargos are getting soaked as well, but you're not willing to get off him to check.
price moves with trained precision as he pulls your bra off, leaving your upper half completely bare under his hungry gaze. he draws one of your hardened nipples into his mouth and lets out a satisfied hum against your heated skin. one of your hands tangles in his short hair while the other clutches his shoulder for stability as you desperately rock back and forth, gasps and lewd moans spilling from your lips.
"wanna cum– please, sir–" you whine at the painful ache in your cunt, the layers of fabric only serving to block you from reaching your release. "need you– need you to make me cum."
"i know, pretty girl. i'll take care of ya." he groans softly after releasing your nipple, moving to leave a trail of wet, sloppy kisses from your collarbone to your neck. he reaches for your waistband at the same time, popping the button open and unzipping your pants. his rough thumb pad presses against your clit through your underwear, rubbing small and quick circles around the sensitive bud. your hips stutter and jolt forward into his touch as his name and another whine falls from your lips.
"there you are, just like that– that's my girl, you're doing so good for your captain." price mumbles praise and leaves open-mouthed kisses against your pulse, his cock rock hard and dripping pre-cum that was surely staining his briefs.
you can feel your release building up, months of teasing and agonizing tension spurring you on as you grind into his leg and his touch. your hands tug at the fabric of his shirt, bunching it up as you whimper out complaints. he sucks dark marks into your feverish skin meanwhile, ignoring your complaints and pathetic attempts at removing his shirt yourself.
"off." you whine, successfully untucking his shirt from his slacks but failing to get any further. price bites down hard on your shoulder, laving over the indents with his tongue a few seconds after, before he travels up to your parted lips.
"patience, sweetheart."
you huff and lean in, brushing your lips against his and letting out a soft whimper of his name in an attempt to sway him. a moment passes, the only movement being your hips rocking back and forth, and you silently think that you’ve convinced him.
his radio, which has sat on the table next to the couch silently until now, suddenly goes off and distracts you from your haze. price’s hand squeezes your hip again, forcing you to sit still as he grabs the device. he sends you a quick look of "be quiet" before answering it.
"go for price." he clears his throat immediately after, his voice slightly strained and thick with frustration and lust. you sit as still as you can, willing yourself not to move despite being so fucking close before you were interrupted. you can hear a familiar voice on the other end, but paying attention to it wasn’t even an option with how worked-up you were.
something about tomorrow’s exfil, you manage to piece together despite being wholly uninterested. you couldn’t hope to focus, anyway, with price’s eyes trained on your teary-eyed expression during the entire conversation. you’re so distracted with him that you don’t notice his hand sliding past your waistband and into your underwear, until a finger starts circling your puffy clit.
before you can stop yourself, you gasp from the unexpected sensation. one of your hands flies up to cover your mouth, muffling the breathy moans that pour from your lips as price starts to rub harsh circles around your clit and bounce his thigh under you.
"what was that sound?" the person that he was talking to - laswell, of course - asks after a beat. price shushes you softly before responding.
"just the lieutenant. she got startled by a mouse." he chuckles, sounding completely unbothered whilst sending you to cloud nine. the conversation ends shortly thereafter, and he tosses the radio to the other side of the couch before turning his attention to you again.
"nearly got us caught there, love." price pulls your hand away from your mouth and captures your lips with his own, greedily drinking up your moans. "you want the team to find out about us, yeah? want them to know what you let your captain do to you?"
"'s your fault i made noise–" you pull back just enough to argue, rocking your hips in sync with his leg's movement, panting like a bitch in heat every time your cunt was rubbed just right. price revels in your debauched state, his lips curling into a self-satisfied smile as he pushes you closer and closer to the edge.
his finger leaves your clit and moves south, easily sliding through your folds before adding another. he groans when you grind against his fingers, coating them in your arousal as his name tumbles from your lips. he teases at your entrance for a bit, until he shoves the two fingers inside you without any warning. your jaw goes slack as he suddenly thrusts his thick fingers knuckle-deep, stretching you out and stopping your hips dead in their tracks.
"thought you needed me to make you cum– changed your mind all of a sudden?" price cocks his head to the side. you try to respond, but can only release another moan as he curls his fingers upward, finding the spot that makes you see stars.
"no– need more, need you," you can feel fat tears gathering at your waterline, threatening to spill over. his free hand guides you, forcing you to ride his fingers as they twisted, stretched, and thrusted into you at a brutal pace. "fuck, fuck, fuck– gonna cum–"
you clutch onto his shoulders for stability, holding his uniform tightly as you whine and moan freely. your orgasm hits you like a train, wave after wave of pleasure flooding through your body head to toe. his fingers keep thrusting into you, thumb circling your clit, effectively dragging your pleasure out as long as he could.
when you finally come back to earth, price is carefully pulling his fingers out of you. he brings them to his lips and eagerly sucks on them, cleaning your orgasm off with a pleased hum.
you shift in his lap and feel his cock fighting to escape his slacks, drenched and utterly ruined by you. slowly, your fingers glide down his chest and torso, coming to rest just above his belt. you fiddle with the buckle, the heel of your palm brushing against the sizable tent in his pants.
he immediately responds, a grunt escaping him and only serving to spur you on. you undo his button and zipper before shifting your attention to his hardened cock, massaging it through his layers of clothing.
"fuck, sweetheart," his gravelly moan is like music to your ears. his hips lift upwards, chasing your touch like a moth to a flame. "you gonna let me fill up that pretty little cunt of yours?" he asks, his eyes trained on you despite the pleasure washing over him.
you nod frantically, already reaching into his cargos and pulling his cock out. it comes to rest at your entrance as you line yourself up and start to rub your cunt against his length, dragging it through your dripping, sensitive folds. you moan in tandem, rocking your hips against his length while he drips pre-cum that mixes with your excess arousal. it makes even more of a mess, but you can’t be bothered to care.
with a hoarse growl caught in his throat, price buries himself deep inside you, pulling your hips down to meet his. the air is knocked out of your lungs as you struggle to accommodate his size, feeling a slight burn despite your prep.
"fits like a fuckin' glove. knew you would– my sweet girl, taking me so well. like you were made to take my cock."
you paw at his shoulders and moan when he starts with shallow thrusts, barely pulling out before slamming back in. the burn quickly fades into pure pleasure as he ruts into you, hands roaming all over your body, struggling to find purchase. you cling to him as you lift your hips and drop back down, trying to time your movements with his thrusts.
his shirt came off at some point, but you were too blissed-out to notice when. you happily admire the view as best as you can while bouncing on his cock, panting and moaning his name every time he hits that perfect spot - which, he does. often.
your head falls forward, forehead pressing into his and rapid breaths co-mingling. his hands circle your middle and hook around your thighs, using them as leverage to move you on his cock like a toy. your nails dig into his shoulders and create ugly red marks on his skin, nearly breaking it and making him bleed. his hands are holding your thighs in an iron grip, leaving behind similarly-shaped bruises for you to find in the morning.
all you can focus on is price and his cock bullying its way deeper inside you. you feel so full, stretched out on his length and struggling to catch your breath every time he thrusts up into you. the distinct sounds of skin slapping against skin fill the room, your cunt drooling around him and making wet noises that sound downright pornographic.
"love– ah, fuck– y'feel so fucking good," he pulls back and drops his head to rest on your shoulder, muffling his throaty moan against it. "so good, so perfect– wanna fuck you like this every day, feel this perfect cunt wrapped around my cock– fucking hell, i want you, need everyone to know that you're mine."
your stomach tightens, burning with the rapid approach of your second orgasm. the noises coming out of price were animalistic, barely coherent after he buries his face in the crook of your neck while frantically fucking up into you.
"none of those boys deserve you, love. they can't– fucking christ– they can't please you, can't satisfy you. y'need a real man, someone who'll keep you nice and full."
"price, fuck–" your head was spinning, dizzy from pleasure. your walls flutter and pulse around his cock, forcing a whine out of the captain. "'m yours, sir. please, i wanna cum– want you to cum inside."
you feel yourself getting close, teetering on the edge. your pelvis aches from the force of price's sloppy thrusts as he loses rhythm, rutting into you like a man starved. despite the countless nights spent fantasizing about him, you never expected him to be so feral. it's like he's an animal trying to breed you, to stake his claim on you.
the thought sends you over the edge, cumming with a debauched moan of his name. price keeps fucking you through your orgasm, his cock hot and heavy inside your cunt. his thrusts were erratic, desperate, as he chased his own release. you try to ride him despite the overstimulation, practically going limp in his arms as he drags you along.
"gonna cum, love– inside? y'gonna let me fill you up like a good girl?"
you nod your head, sniffling and blinking back hot tears. "yes–! want it inside, please, i've been so good–"
"agh, fuck–" price grunts and presses his hips flush to yours. he cums a second later, burning liquid spilling into your fluttering cunt. he shallowly thrusts into you, making some spill out onto your glistening thighs and his ruined cargos. after a couple more thrusts, he falls back against the cushion, hands sliding up to rest on your hips.
you two sit in silence for a few moments, catching your breath. price presses chaste kisses to your shoulder and the side of your throat while his thumbs rub gentle circles into your sweaty skin. you lazily play with his short hair, dragging your fingers through it and massaging his scalp. he groans softly and shifts under you, making you whimper from the ache between your legs.
"guess we can't be trusted alone," you mumble and sigh, a satisfied smile playing on your lips.
price hums and chuckles softly. "i think we handled ourselves just fine. i had an eye on the door."
"i''ll take your word on it," you huff and lean against him, your heart skipping a beat when his arms wrap around you. "i won, by the way."
"sure you did, love."
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taglist: @sofasoap , @rohansregret
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ikeuverse · 28 days
Text
SLOW DOWN — s.jaeyun
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PAIRING: illegal!jake x fem!reader GENRES: angst, smut, fluff WC: 2.8k+
WARNINGS: swearing, weapons, knives, blood, illegal things in general (drugs, racing, alcohol). smut will be added in the next chapters, physical and verbal fights.
NOTES: i was listening to the song by chase atlantic, which is the title of this fic, and this scenario with jake just popped into my head. i wrote this part as a taste of what's probably to come. i hope to continue writing it, but first, i want to know what you, my readers, think of it since it's something i like to write about (mafia and all) and with jake being my utt i honestly felt my mind expand. tell me if i should continue or just delete it, please. i hope you like it!
CHAPTERS: prologue | chapter one | [...]
TAGLIST: i've never done this, but lmk if you want to be tagged — mentions in the first chapter (already in the link above)
masterlist
a synopsis (too long to be a synopsis) below the cut. read it and tell me what you think, please. or just an idea, idk if i'll go through with it
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The smooth taste of the cherry liqueur you were drinking was enough to relax your whole body. Smiling slightly at your best friend Chloe, chatting about trivial things in life. She was the one person in your cycle who made everything seem a little more normal.
Chloe was responsible for making you forget that you were part of a mafia family and that everything around you was linked to guns, blood, illegal things, and dirty money. She disconnected you from that world where you were there out of obligation.
"We need to go out sometime" Chloe finished off the liquor in her glass, lifting her body to pick up the bottle and refill it "How about the new nightclub that opened in the next town?"
You thanked your friend when she also wanted to refill her glass, letting the liquor run halfway down and then drinking a little more.
"I guess we could do that" you replied, thinking of ways to try to convince your father not to send a bouncer for you and her. It was unnecessary, but it was also a wasted conversation knowing that he would only let the two of you go out on that condition.
Luckily, your best friend had already gotten used to it, not least because living with you since elementary school had brought her all this knowledge little by little. You were immensely grateful that she didn't abandon you once she knew the whole truth, which is why Chloe has remained your best friend to this day.
"Then we can go to a convenience store and get some ice cream to try while we're still drunk."
The genuine laughter you two shared was the fuel you needed whenever something was heavy in the house. You had to call Chloe if only to stay in your room, in the office assigned to you, or anywhere in the house after hearing men walking around, your father fighting with someone or running around which – unfortunately – you witnessed every time.
It was exhausting. You also knew that there was no point in trying to run away or asking your father to disown you. He wouldn't be able to do you any harm, but he would probably keep you isolated, trapped in some lake house he had as a hiding place, and get you out when you thought better of it. If you could think about living a normal life or continuing your family's mafia.
"Knock, knock" the sound of the door knocking combined with the voice that imitated it brought you out of your thoughts and straight to where you needed to be.
Heeseung's smile was infectious, you always smiled when you saw your best friend. But not when he walked in with his head down wherever you were, his clothes covered in blood and his hands behind his back.
"What the fuck happened now?" you sighed loudly enough, dropping your glass of liquor on the coffee table between you and Chloe.
"Hi to you too, y/n" he finally raised his head, smiling at you again after looking away to his best friend "Hi, babe."
"Heeseung" Chloe raised her glass as a silent toast, ignoring the fact that the nickname she knew was only meant to annoy her. You'd make fun of the two of them if it weren't for your best friend's current situation.
"Where does all this blood come from?" you stood up from your chair "What the fuck have you all done now?"
Hesseung wiped the remnants of blood from his hands on his T-shirt, sighing in the process as he thought about what to say to you.
He was nervous. Lee Heeseung was visibly nervous and you knew that was almost impossible to happen. Come on, the guy in front of you who you called your best friend was one of your father's best illegal racing drivers, he'd been through so much shit on the track, how could talking to you be so bad? That only happened when...
"We need your help" he said at last, biting his lower lip to stop himself from shaking in the process. The boy's eyes searched for yours and, as soon as they were found, he let out "Jake's hurt..."
You froze at that moment, completely shutting out Heeseung's voice as he passed on the information. Chloe noticed, so she listened carefully in case you asked her later what had happened.
Jake's name together with the hurt, adding the blood that was on Heeseung... It all came together in one way and made you follow him wherever your best friend was going.
It was these moments that pulled you back into the life you had, reminding you that your family was part of the mafia and that you, consequently, were part of it too. The most obvious condition your father found to keep you in the business was that you did something that could link you to the surname for the rest of your life. Not as a bastard, because he wouldn't let you walk away easily.
So the only way was to get a degree in nursing, study medicine, and anything else that involved taking care of the wounds of the men who worked for your father. If you were constantly injured, shot, stabbed, or anything too suspicious, the hospital would surely call the police, and a big interrogation would begin. Your father wanted to avoid all this, so getting you involved at least on the good side made you feel less bad about it.
"Finally" Sunoo almost shouted with happiness as you turned the corner of the corridor behind Heeseung, along with Chloe by your side who kept an eye out in case you fainted from being so nervous.
They all looked the same as Heeseung, which made you wonder if Jake had lost a lot of blood or if it had gotten really bad.
"What happened?" you asked again.
"We went to accompany some of your father's men" Jay was the only one sitting down, his elbows resting on his knees. Taking his head between his hands, which were the same as Heeseung's, he looked at you "They set up an ambush, we had to defend ourselves."
You hung up again while Jay continued talking, relaying events to Chloe, who seemed almost like your private secretary.
Your eyes searched for Heeseung and he just nodded at you, then nodded towards the door opposite where Jay was sitting. That's where Jake was. And that's where your father kept a private infirmary, which you affectionately called his workroom.
Opening the door, two of your father's men were standing next to the gurney where Jake's body lay. You didn't look too far in his direction and just approached the sink to tie up your hair and sanitize your hands. Without realizing how much you were shaking at the thought of the worst, especially with Jake.
Why did you feel that way just hearing his name?
Get over it. Forget it.
The voice screamed in your mind as you turned to walk to the stretcher and join the men.
"Jake, dude" Heeseung called "She's here."
A brief moment of silence before Jake's eyes opened, looking at each of the men until they stopped on you. A faint smile on his dry, opaque lips, his eyes squinted.
"My private doctor" he forced a laugh, groaning in pain and placing his hand on his abdomen.
That's when you realized, the blood was coming from there. A cut that tore through Jake's T-shirt, piercing the skin. You couldn't tell how serious the problem was because it all looked like a big mess.
"Let's leave you two alone" Heeseung rested one hand on the side of Jake's head "Don't scare us anymore, your motherfucker" he slapped his friend on the back, turning to you "We'll be at the end of the corridor if you need anything."
You couldn't answer, only nod as Heeseung took the other two with him, leaving you and Jake alone in your room.
"I..." you sighed, closing your eyes and pushing away any thoughts as you went back to looking at the wound in front of you "I need you to take off your shirt, I have to clean it."
Without looking Jake in the eye, you grabbed his hands to help him sit up enough to take off his shirt. Turning to get the products you needed to use and clean it, would give Jake time to remove the shirt that was getting in the way of the whole process.
He, for his part, felt every discomfort and pain coursing through his body as he moved his arm to take off the shirt that had already been lost the moment they tore the material with that knife. That damn knife that had left him like that.
Throwing the shirt anywhere on the floor, Jake sat waiting for you to turn towards him and, as soon as you did, he could see your shocked expression.
"What?" he looked at his own body, then looked in your direction "It's nothing you haven't already seen, touched, kissed..."
"Shut up, Jaeyun!" you wanted to convince yourself that all the burning in your face was from anger at the words you were hearing, and not because you felt embarrassed about it. Why did he have to talk such nonsense?
You didn't have to ask him to lie down, Jake got the message as soon as you got near the stretcher with the absorbent cotton and saline solution. He inhaled a good amount of air and held his breath while you cleaned his wound. It didn't sting like the other times, but he could feel his skin burning with the touch of your fingers on it.
Jake could have sworn he'd burn up if you continued with all that delicacy on him.
"It wasn't deep" your voice caused him to let out a breath, groaning in pain as a little pressure was applied to a spot on the wound "I'd venture to say you moved away quickly enough before plunged the knife into your abdomen."
"You know I'm fast, don't you?" Jake was a fucking idiot with his double entendres, you knew it was pure provocation "Why did I bleed so much?"
Thank God he changed the subject, or you'd have opened that cut yourself.
"Because it cut through the epidermis, it just missed the dermis. That would have been a bit worse and I don't think I'd have brought you here."
"I'm glad they did" for the first time since Jake and you were alone in that room, you could hear the sincerity in his voice. Something that rarely happened.
Your eyes went up from the cut to Jake's face, seeing that he was already staring at you. Without saying much, you concentrated on making the dressing as comfortable as possible so that he could feel more comfortable as he left the room.
As you wrapped the bandages around his torso, his voice echoed in your mind like a relentless demon. It wasn't anything you hadn't seen, touched, kissed... Enjoyed every time he found himself in your room. In your bed.
The thought of a time when you and Jake were together was the last thing you wanted to think about. It had been a long time and that couldn't be part of your thoughts, even if it was sabotage because every day, all the time you looked at him, your mind wandered to the exact moment you two kissed for the first time.
Or how he held you for the first time and every touch on your skin made you boil.
"Thinking of me?" his voice was so vivid that you had forgotten you were still in his presence, with your hands resting on Jake's chest and the bandage already finished.
Sniffling, you straightened up and turned away from him, gathering up the remnants of the things you'd used so you could throw them in the garbage can.
He said nothing, getting up from the stretcher with some difficulty while still looking at you.
It was a lose-lose situation to do that, but Jake simply couldn't let the opportunity he was having slip away. So he walked towards you slowly, as best he could because he could still feel the wound pulling at his abdomen. He got close enough as soon as you turned to face him, a thin scream bursting from your lips from the fright, but soon calming down when you found his eyes resting fixedly on yours.
"Y/n" he whispered.
"Jaeyun, don't..."
"Listen to me, please" the request sounded more like a plea, and you lost count of how many times Jake did it, but he could never finish because you always ran away.
And you wanted to run away again.
"What do you want?" you asked, almost regretting it when he answered, unashamedly.
"You back to me."
He had to be a talker. Jake needed to have that idiotic power over you with anything he said. It was extremely unfair that someone had been born and put into your life just to leave you speechless and steal your heart.
Your sigh was a silent answer that he could come a little closer, and with slow steps, Jake did. Just enough so that he could lean his body against yours only as far as his bruise didn't make contact.
Jake's hand quickly reached for your cheek, forming a shell between it and your face to hold close enough to his.
"Please, I need you back" Jake leaned his forehead against yours, his warm breath beating against your cheek.
Your hands were trembling as one of them touched his arm, while the other went carefully to the opposite side where Jake was hurt. The touches kept his balance and kept him close too.
"Then answer me" your voice was at the same pitch as his, avoiding any louder sounds that might scatter the two of you.
Jake knew what you meant, he was fully aware of it. He'd been asked that question so many times, that's why he knew he wasn't in your life as your boyfriend.
"Y/n, you know I can't..." he began.
"Me or these dangerously idiotic missions of my father's?"
Jake closed his eyes, pressing his forehead a little closer to yours.
"Y/n..."
"You can choose to race with Heeseung, stay in tech with Niki" your voice began to choke and Jake felt that it was hurting more than the cut on his abdomen. He knew it was all his fault.
"But it gives me a lot more money, and..." he sighed, looking straight into your eyes "You know what I'm putting any money towards. Please..."
"Is it money? For God's sake, Jaeyun, I can help you..."
"No!" Jake said sternly, but not rude enough to scare you. He'd never managed to be rude to you since he first met you "I can't accept it. That's my problem and—"
"I thought your problems were mine too."
That phrase was strangely familiar. Jake knew he'd heard it somewhere before, he just couldn't think where when you turned away from him at the same second as the knocks on the living room door were heard. Making you both step back.
"Mr. Jaeyun? Miss y/n?" one of your father's security guards had his head between the doors, looking in your direction. You waved so that he could enter "The rest of the guys are waiting for news, if you could…"
"Of course" you smiled at him, thanking him not only for the information but for the interruption because you knew that another argument was probably on the way "Come on, we need to go."
"Y/n, I—"
"The guys need an update from you" without going any further, you turned away from Jake and waited for him to get ready to leave the room.
You knew it was bad to do this anyway, but there was no escaping it. Being tied up with your family's affairs meant moments like this, but they weren't all bad. Taking care of the people who worked for your family was just a way of saying thank you for them – unfortunately – risking their lives.
But when it came to Sim Jaeyun, you knew that everything was intense. Even more so as the whole story of the two of you played through your mind like a movie on repeat.
All the times you and he had been together, all the moments the two of you had shared until the final fight.
Which Jake was trying, at all costs, to reverse. Because it was as he had told you a few minutes ago, he wanted you back. You just didn't know what Jake was capable of.
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© ikeuverse, 2024. do not copy, translate or steal my stories.
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coryosbaby · 1 year
Note
STEPSISTER AND ETHAN?HER SECRETLY RIDING HIS COCK DURING A MOVIE NIGHT.
Ultraviolence- E.L & C.M
(pt. 2)
Fandom: “Scream Vi”
Pairing: Stepbrother! Ethan Landry x fem! Reader, Chad Meeks Martin x fem! Reader (not in this chapter), Ethan Landry x Chad Meeks Martin (not in this chapter)
Warning: dubcon, slight sliiiight mention of vomit and suicide (but not in a serious manner), stepcest (stepsister x stepbrother), public sex in front of relatives (the parents are completely clueless), scent kink, dom! Ethan, dark! Ethan, sub! Reader, p n v, squirting, finger sucking, degradation, possession, rough sex
A/N: 😱 how have I not thought ab stepbrother! Ethan before ??!! Thank you for this. The way I wrote the whole situation is literally so unrealistic but fuck it we ball. Literally going to write so many more stepbro fics now and am totally making this a series 😘 this is pt 2! Pt 1 is already posted <3 luv u
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“Care if I sit here, sis?” Ethan’s voice is laced with sarcasm, and you cringe.
It’s movie night, and your mom and Ethan’s dad are sprawled out on one couch. The only spots left are the ones on the smaller couch with two seats. The lights are off, and Ethan is standing above you, a large green comforter clutched in his ring clad hands. The light of from the television makes him a warm silhouette.
You give him a thin awkward smile, mumbling a small “yeah, sure.”
He grins, but there’s a mischievous look to it that doesn’t sit right with you.
“Great!”
He plops down beside you, covering his tall form with the blanket. He moves close to you, even though he has a whole other half of the cushion to take up. Your face flushes when you catch a whiff of his cologne, and you have flashbacks to a few weeks ago.
A flashback, it seems, that racks you with a shit ton of guilt.
You cant stop thinking about it. About how Ethan threw you on top of the kitchen counter when your parents were gone a few weeks ago and fucked your virgin pussy open. Can’t stop thinking about how his hands had felt, how his cock had felt.
You shiver, and your stomach twists in knots. What the fuck is wrong with you? This whole thing is sick. He’s your stepbrother, for god’s sake!
Ethan’s fingers gently skimming along your knee cap is what pull you out of your thoughts. You narrow your eyes at him, not in the mood for his antics right now.
But, as usual, Ethan doesn’t know how to fucking listen.
“Sis, you’re practically freezing. You should move a little closer and share the blankets with me.” Ethan suggests. You are freezing, but you aren’t going to admit that.
You scoff, and then roll your eyes. “Fuck off.”
“Watch your mouth, young lady,” Your mother scolds from across the room. “And be nice to your brother!”
Brother. You might throw up. In fact, jumping off the roof sounds like a very good idea right about now.
“Whatever.” You mutter, and scoot closer to the the boy next to you. Your mother turns her attention back to the movie as Ethan’s dad wraps his arms around her.
Ethan’s scent gets stronger, more prominent, now that your arms and legs are touching. You notice that it’s not just his cologne that smells so good; it’s him. Just, completely and utterly him.
You really do hate yourself right now.
Ethan throws the blanket over the two of you and he begins to slowly lift you and sit you down on top of him. You stiffen, his closeness in such a public setting confusing you. Does he just want you both to get caught?
“Oh, look at them, Wayne! They’re bonding!” Your mom gushes when she sees Ethan holding you. She’s so naive.
‘We’re certainly bonding all right, but not in the way you want, mom.’ You think. You move around to try and sit correctly on Ethan.
And then you feel it. Big and hard, pressing against your ass. He’s hard.
In front of your fucking parents, too. Jesus, this motherfucker is demented.
You try to ignore it, you really do. But your pussy has a mind of its own, and Ethan isn’t making it any easier. His thigh flexes and pushes the muscle against your soaking pussy. He seems calm, but his grip on your hips is a dead giveaway. You try not to gasp, to moan at the feeling of the friction against your swollen little clit. It’s difficult.
“Oh! See, Wayne? This is my favorite part.”
Your mom’s voice cuts through your wild thoughts, and your face gets hotter than it was before, if possible. She doesn’t deserve this.
Ethan’s hands rest on your upper thighs now, and you feel the coldness of his rings against your skin.
He’s breathing quietly down your neck, and you feel him adjust. Your eyes nearly bulge out of your head when your lightly lifted by his strong arms, while he moves his sweatpants down. You try to act calm when he lowers you back down and his big cock is resting in between your pussy and his thigh. And then, when Ethan sees that your parents aren’t looking, he presses a light kiss to your neck.
“Be really still, angel. Don’t wanna get caught, do you?” He whispers, lips against your ear. You shake your head.
He chuckles. “That’s my girl.”
You clench. And then, you feel the boy gently pull your sleep shorts and panties to the side. He lifts his cock and presses the tip into your tight hole, and you almost whine. He already feels so good. Why does he feel this good?
His cock is wet, and you can feel his pre cum spreading around your outer lips. You cringe when you hear the faint sound of your creamy wetness sliding around on his dick. It’s hard for him to stick it inside, really. You had only had sex once since before this moment, that time a few weeks ago. The stretch burns, and Ethan’s above average size doesn’t help. But you sit, and you take it like a good girl. And eventually, slowly, while slightly readjusting you, Ethan’s cock slides all the way in. You feel filled to the brim, and ashamed. Your parents are still watching the movie. Your mom has no idea that her sweet little girl is getting impaled by her stepbrothers big dick.
And then Ethan just…stays there. He doesn’t move, or even try to, and you don’t understand how he can physically handle it. Because as of right now, your thighs are almost shaking from the feeling of being filled. You know you’re soaking, can feel your juices trailing down onto Ethan’s balls and his sweats. You can feel his cock throbbing, can feel all 9 inches and every vein. Your walls clench down on him on accident and you feel his breath hitch.
You smirk. If he wants to play dirty, you can too.
You clench again, your hands going down into the blanket to run your fingers over his balls. He inhales sharply, and his fingers go up to put your arms in a tight grip.
“Stop it.” He growls, his tone low. You lean back to whisper in his ear in a hushed tone.
“Why don’t you make me?”
All of Ethan’s willpower is trying to stop him from plowing you straight on the fucking couch. He can smell the intermingling of yours and his arousal dripping down his cock. His eyes nearly roll to the back of his head.
God, you smell so fucking good.
Both of your thoughts are interrupted when the both of your parents sigh tiredly. The end credits. Ethan’s dad looks incredibly tired, barely even acknowledging the both of you and saying goodnight as he throws you the remote.
“If you guys aren’t going to go to bed anytime soon, just put on something else.”
Ethan’s head is leaned back against the couch, his chest heaving slowly at the feeling of you. Your face is hot, for obvious reasons. Your mom frowns at you.
“Honey? Are you okay? You look a little sick..” her hand goes up to feel your head and Ethan adjusts his hips. You gasp, but quickly cover it up with a cough.
“I’m f-fine mom!” You smile, all teeth. “Just a little tired, that’s all. We’re probably going to watch the wizard of oz… or something.”
Your mom looks at you both strangely for a moment, but decides to shake it off. Both you and Ethan give her a sheepish smile as you begin to actually turn the wizard of oz on as a distraction. She goes upstairs, and lastly, you and Ethan are alone.
As somewhere over the rainbow plays, Ethan instantly throws you onto the couch, shoves his fingers into your mouth, and pounds you so hard that you can feel his tip kissing your cervix. He reaches down to rub your soaked clit, the sound of your wetness prominent.
He begins speaking in a hushed but growling whisper. He’s angry, most definitely. And his full intention is to take it out on you.
“You dirty fucking slut.” He sneers. “Think you can get away with the shit you do? The shit you say? You’re lucky our parents were here tonight, or I would be spanking that cute little ass until it bleeds.”
You let out a cry, one thats muffled by Ethan’s fingers, one you hope doesn’t catch the attention of your parents upstairs. You can feel that elastic in your gut start to snap, can feel yourself letting go.
And then you literally ejaculate onto Ethan’s cock and balls.
He grins down at your squirting pussy, his teeth shining. Your sobs and moans are muffled by his hand, and he gives your cunt a light slap.
“Yeah, squirt all over that cock, baby. Fuck, just wait until mommy and daddy aren’t home. Gonna ruin this fuckin’ pussy, sweet thing.”
He watches your hole as he spreads it apart with his fingers, watches your greedy walls suck him in. Your face is contorted in pleasure, looking up at him like he’s God. His eyes are completely black, almost evil. As he looks at your precious face, your fragile body, possession overtakes him.
Family be damned, you belong to him.
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atrirose · 7 months
Text
🪐. CRAMP CHEM
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ft. sim jake sfw (fluff) warning : kissing, chemistry wc.325
an.? reading my older post made me think jake needs a whole one shot for that headcanon cuz i can’t- I START TO BLUSH AT THAT,, AND WHOLE smiling between kisses is just 😭
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“so basically k is x plus y” you asked boyfriend jake who is smiling listening to you like you are reading him a love letter “ah no my love k over here is rate constant so it a into b, x plus y is the order of reaction” he said as he wrote down the formulas on your book.
“i can’t deal with this” you sighed heavily “how are u dealing with me ugh look at you all smiles, i would be frustrated if someone asked me help last minute and didn’t know the whole chapter” you said burying your face in your hands, “i can never get frustrated by you and it doesn’t matter we can always learn” jake said as he stroked your hair, it’s impossible to have a tutor as patient as jake, and it was nice and reassuring to have someone like that with you.
“try solving this one yn” jake said as he handed you another question “and” he turns your face as he bought his face closer to yours, his soft lips landed on yours, his hands snaking around your waist as you touch his jaw in surprise by the sudden kiss, his lips moved sensuously over yours as you pull his collar for more, he smiles against your lips between kisses
he does that a lot, smiling between kisses or during, it’s so frustratingly hot and you hate that he knows how get you all bothered and carving for more.
his eyelashes tickling you, he breaks the kisses leaving you breathless and fuzzy brain, then he presses wet kisses down your neck and collar bone by pulling your shirt a bit lower “jake?”
“hmm” he hummed against your neck for you to continue, he bites your neck. you pout as he pecks your lips one last time and goes back to writing more questions on a paper “now that you got that taste” he said with a devilish smirk “solve this and you would get a kiss on every right answer” he is so cruel, so cruelly beautiful.
“by the way the lip balm taste good”
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First Time With Billy Loomis
Pairing: Billy Loomis x female!reader
Word count: 5.3K
Warnings/contents: Smut: Fingering, blow job, rougher sex, various sex positions, orgasms, light dirty talk, light daddy kink. Strong language. Fluff.
Notes: I wrote this… really fast. I proofread it because I finished this around 5 am last night. I enjoyed writing this one a lot and I really hope that you guys enjoy this. The chapter advances fast, but I feel like that is what sex with Billy would be like: fast, rough, hard— then having a few moments of rest before going again.
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The weather was awful: the man on the news had previously in the day said that it was supposed to storm all night long, and so far, he was right.
The rain started at 9 PM and it hadn’t even lightened up by now at almost 11 PM. You didn’t mind much, listening happily to the loud thunder and the rain hitting hard against the windows by your front door. You yawned lightly, watching a boring movie and yet being unable to find anything interesting so you’d simply settled. It had been about five minutes since your last text from Billy. You wondered if he might’ve fallen asleep since he’d woken up early this morning.
Letting the movie continue playing, you stood and walked towards your small kitchen and raided the fridge. You really needed to go shopping, the only thing edible it seemed was the take out box of Chinese leftovers you had from two nights ago when Billy and Stu were over for movie night.
You settled when your stomach growled, grabbing the container full of orange chicken as well as the fried rice container and shut the fridge. The microwave was convenient for things such as this; late night snacking when you knew that you shouldn’t eat, but being unable to sleep and being hungry was never a good mix.
Reaching for the microwave and opening the door, you smiled at the sound of thunder booming across the sky overhead. This was the perfect weather to read. If only it wasn’t so late and your eyes were tired you might be interested in picking up the book you were currently reading.
A rapid knock on the door made you jump. Quickly checking your phone that sat face up on the counter and seeing no message from Billy, you cautiously walked towards the door and peeked out of the peephole. Billy stood there, nearly soaked. You opened the door quickly and moved aside.
“What are you doing here?” You asked, shutting and locking the door behind the man as he pushed his wet hair back from his face. “I figured you fell asleep.”
“I couldn’t sleep.” He said simply, stripping his coat off and hanging it over the stool beneath your counter. “Smells like leftovers.” He leaned in, pressing a quick kiss to your lips that you easily returned. His lips were cold, worrying you.
“You’re soaked,” you said, gesturing to the man to stay while you went to get a towel from the bathroom. It was a good thing that you had just done laundry and all of your towels were clean and smelt fresh. You walked back towards your front door, watching Billy strip his shirt off. “Here, dry off so you can get warm.” You took the shirt for him, trading him the towel. He wrapped the towel around his shoulders and kicked off his shoes with a sigh.
“Thanks. I hope I’m not bothering you.” With a smile, you reached forward and wiped a drop of water that was sliding down his cheek away from his handsome face.
“You’re never a bother. I’m sorry you got so wet.” He gave a quick shrug and unbutton his jeans, nearly making you flush as you looked away and walked back around the counter towards the microwave.
“I had to park far away. I figured it would be fine. I have clothes here.”
“They’re in the top drawer of my dresser,” you said with your back turned to the man as you watched your bowl turn slowly in the microwave, stomach grumbling again at the smell. Without a word, Billy walked towards your bedroom, knowing your apartment like the back of his hand. He’d spent many days and nights here with you. Even whole weekends when neither of you were busy.
You stopped the timer at 30 seconds and pulled the hot bowl out, using your fork to stir the food up. You gave a soft sound in content, excited to taste the food that had been calling your name the previous night. You were happy now that you saved it instead of eating it.
With a soft gasp, you jumped slightly before giving a soft chuckle when Billy wrapped his cold arms around you and leaned in to kiss your neck. You shivered at his touch.
“Your nose is freezing. Go get under the blanket, silly.” You were willing to give him the blanket on the sofa that you were using throughout the night to warm him up. He gave a soft hum, pressing another kiss to your shoulder before he let you go and went to sit on the sofa, wrapping the blanket around himself. “You can put whatever you want on.” You called to the man. “I couldn’t find anything to watch and just stuck with this movie.”
Bringing your bowl to the sofa and sitting snug beside the man, you watched him scroll through the channels that you had as he wrapped an arm around your warm body. You kissed his forearm before you leaned up and took a bite of the hot food; you nearly burned your tongue, but it was too delicious for you to hold out on. With a soft huff after you swallowed, you took another bite and hummed in content.
Billy put on a movie, a comedy that he had always liked, and turned his attention to you. You felt the mans heavy stare and sent him a small smile— something he returned before leaning in and pressing a kiss to your lips. You gave in, leaning gently into the man and returning his slow kiss. The bowl was warm on your lap, slowly starting to cool down but you decided to risk eating cold leftovers for the taste of Billy’s soft lips.
He raised his hand, gently gripping your chin and teasing your lip with his tongue. You gave a soft giggle and returned the gesture with your tongue against his mouth. Before Billy shoved his tongue past your lips, you pulled back and sent him a smile.
“Let me eat in peace,” you teased, earning a soft chuckle from the man as you turned back to your bowl.
“You leaned into it.”
“I know.” Billy’s fingers gently caressed your shoulder as he turned his gaze back to the television while you finished up your food. If he was going to get what he wanted tonight, he knew he’d have to be patient either way.
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As soon as your bowl of food was gone, you snuggled into Billy’s side, engulfed in his warmth from being dry and in your snuggly apartment. The weather was still bad— thunder booming loudly, hard enough that you swore you felt the building shake. The rain was falling hard and you were glad that Billy was here with you, holding you comfortingly and occasionally pressing a kiss to your head.
The two of you were going on 5 months of being together and you were nearly inseparable. Billy had been the best boyfriend that you’d had in the past— something you were incredibly relieved about. Having nothing but bad experiences thus far, you finally felt safe in Billy’s arms when the two of you napped together. Having him around just felt right.
With a yawn, you pulled away from Billy for a moment to stretch your body out. He quickly looked at you and raised an eyebrow.
“Sleepy?”
“No— I napped at like 6 o’clock. The weather is just making me think about how many naps I take when it storms.” He gave a soft hum in response, watching you as you shifted on the sofa in order to stay close to the man and let your sleeping foot stretch out onto the coffee table. You looked at Billy and smiled softly. “Are you tired?”
“Not at all.” You hummed, leaning closer to the man.
“Good.” Giving the man a soft kiss was your intention, but instead he leaned closer to you and extended your original plan. You didn’t fight it, pressing a hand to his thigh and kissing him back. The kiss was sweet— much like your previous— it was slow. Like before, you felt engulfed in the man and didn’t want it to end. You felt this way nearly every time that the two of you had made out.
He was an excellent kisser; his taste was simple and his smell was immaculate. Everything about him being so close to you made you desperate for more. He reached down, placing his hand on your leg and giving it a soft squeeze as he leaned closer into you. Shifting along with the man, you leaned gently back on the sofa with him on top of you. Your arms circled around his shoulders, keeping him close as he pushed his tongue into your mouth.
You gave a soft sound in content and shifted beneath the man, seemingly only making him press closer. One of your legs dangled off the sofa, your other between his legs. Billy pressed fully against you, an obvious hardness between his legs that made your cheeks flush. It was far from the first time Billy had gotten hard when the two of you were making out. It was also far from the first time that you had helped him out and let him touch you as well.
However, the two of you have never had sex.
After being in relationships where you were used purely for your body, you wanted to wait; to let the man prove that he was with you for you, not for your waistline and breasts.
But that didn’t mean you didn’t miss sex. That didn’t mean that you weren’t excited to feel him inside of you. In fact, it was far from it. You tingled at the thought of his fingers pushing inside of you again while he sucked on your neck. You gave a quick exhale when your lips parted for Billy to turn his head, but you were as quick as he was to connect your lips again. You grabbed tight onto the mans shoulders, giving a soft hum when he shifted his hips against you.
You were easily convinced by the man to give into his sexual desires. You shared them, thinking purely of the way his cock looked and how it felt in your mouth. You didn’t want to wait any longer, and you knew that Billy didn’t want to either. It seemed unspoken at the moment while you pulled on his dark blue shirt by the collar and ached to keep him closer. Your opposite hand buried in his hair, giving it a light tug that earned a soft grunt from the man over you.
Using your grip on his head to your advantage, you leaned your own back and gently guided his head down. He didn’t hesitate, his lips moving to your neck while your pulse beat rapidly beneath him with every kiss. You closed your eyes, the sound of the movie long drawn out by the sound of the rain and your racing thoughts. Billy was quick to give you a love bite that made you yelp before he kissed your skin again.
Slowly, he licked a trail along your warm skin and up to your chin. You looked back at the man, getting a few seconds to gaze into his eyes before he pressed his lips back to yours. The sight you saw was different than other times the two of you were in this position; he was aching for you like you were aching for him. You could tell by the lustful gaze in his dark eyes that you loved so much.
Billy wasn’t always the most expressive man, but his eyes told you everything that you needed to know. His love for you, his desperation for you, and right now his lust for you.
You were certain that your eyes matched his gaze. Your actions certainly did. Your lips were feverish against his, arms grabbing him tightly as you wrapped your leg around his waist and pushed his hips down against yours. Billy gave into his urge, grinding his hips against you and earned a sweet sound in return. His teeth caught your bottom lip, gently nibbling on it and giving it a soft suck before he let you go and pulled back with heavy breaths.
“Wanna go to your room?”
“I really do.” Both of you were out of breath, but he was quick to stand and grab your hand to help you as well. He pressed another kiss to your lips, one you leaned into quickly.
The two of you stumbled towards your bedroom, nearly tripping over several things on the way. Something fell and hit the floor with a ‘thud’ but your mind was occupied on Billy’s tongue. When his back hit a wall, the one right beside your bedroom door, he turned the two of you around and pushed you back against it, earning a grunt from you in return as he shoved his knee between your legs and yanked your hips towards him.
He shoved your head up, sucking on your neck with every quick kiss to your skin. You gave a quiet moan as you shifted against Billy’s thigh that pressed between your legs. You ached deeply inside for the man, this rush of sexual tension between you two only made each kiss and every touch that much better.
You reached down to grab at him, but he caught your hand and pressed it against the wall, biting your neck and making you yelp. His fingers easily pressed to your clit over the pajama pants that you wore. You let out a soft moan just as he went to shove his lips back against yours in a teeth-clattering kiss.
Before you could even think, Billy picked you up, slamming you back against the wall with your legs around his waist. You bit his lip by accident in return to his quick movements, but he didn’t even falter as he shoved his erection against your aching clit. You couldn’t wait for the clothing to come off and feel him inside of you for the first time.
“Mmm, Billy—“ You mumbled against his lips between hot, wet kisses. Neither of you cared about the drool on your chins, instead you were too focused on each other— the way Billy’s hips grinded against you in the front of your mind. Billy moved back a bit, sliding your shirt up to your waist. You quickly leaned closer so that he could strip the clothing off before pressing you back against the wall and tossing it somewhere. You hissed at the cold wall against your warm back, but it didn’t last long.
Billy finally pulled you away from the wall, walking to your bedroom and tossing you onto your bed, he got on top of you again, reaching over to turn the bedside lamp on while you ran your fingers up his shirt and felt along his light abs and to his chest.
Before he leaned back in to kiss you, Billy stripped his shirt and let it fall off the bed, grabbing your hands and sliding them up his chest, smirking at you when you bit your lip and smiled.
“You like what you see?” He asked in a teasing tone.
“I always like what I see.”
This wasn’t the first time the two of you had ended up in this position. But you both knew tonight was going to be different. There was a certain feeling in Billy’s gut that you wanted him this time. Your kisses were more desperate than the last.
“Then let’s get this off and let me admire your body, too.” He said, sliding his hand around your back and unclipping your bra. You shifted, making it easier on the man as he slid it off and tossed it aside, eyes falling to your breasts and giving a soft sigh. He reached down, fingers giving your left nipple a soft pinch and watching your other perk up quickly as you whined at the touch. “Do you want me?” He asked quietly. He knew the answer, but something told him to ask. When you confided in Billy about your past relationships, he took it to heart. He’d fallen in love with you over the years that you’d known each other. He didn’t want you to feel like you were just a sex toy to him— no matter how horny he was.
“I want you so bad,” you said back in a low tone. “I don’t want to wait anymore. I want to feel you inside of me. I want you to fuck me until I’m screaming.” He gave a soft chuckle and leaned down to kiss you.
“I’ll fuck you until your legs are shaking and you’re a blubbering mess.” Your fingers tingled at his words. Nobody had ever made your body react the way that Billy did.
He reached down, his fingers sliding into your pajama pants through the loose hem and pressing to your clit over the underwear that you wore; they were nothing special, plain black that didn’t match your pink bra.
You shifted your hips against his fingers as he started rubbing an antagonizingly slow circle against you. You gave a whine that made him laugh against your lips.
“You’re desperate, aren’t you?” He teased, gently biting your bottom lip before kissing it. “Patience, baby.”
“We’ve both been patient long enough,” you spoke, but Billy gave a hum in thought.
“I think I’ll make you wait a little bit longer.” You gave a disappointed groan and let your head fall back onto the comfortable bed. “Don’t worry— I won’t give you nothing. I’ll make sure you’re just barely brimming over the edge when I shove my cock inside of you.” He moved back, his fingers pulling your pajama pants down off your hips with your help. His fingers caught your underwear at the last second, tugging them down and moving so that he could slide them off of your legs.
He lifted your legs up, grabbing them with one hand while he tossed the clothing away, leaving you bare beneath him. Billy put your ankles on his shoulders and took his time gazing across your body.
“Every time I see it, it gets better.” He spoke quietly, his fingers sliding along your inner thighs and pressing to your clit. You gave a soft whimper at the touch before Billy moved his fingers down and teased your entrance. At the feeling, he immediately laughed. “Someone sure is wet tonight.”
“I told you— I’m ready for you.” He gave a thoughtful hum and abruptly shoved two of his fingers knuckle deep inside of you, earning a moan in return as he started to pump them inside of you. “Oh, Billy—“ You whined out, wiggling your hips against his hand. He placed his other hand on your hips and pressed you into the bed. “Mmm— Billy, please… move them faster.” He did as you asked, moving his fingers quicker inside of you and giving a soft kiss to your ankle before he shoved a third inside of you and earned a glorious moan from you just as the thunder boomed overhead.
Billy moved, letting your feet lay on the bed and resting down on his stomach. He didn’t waste any time before he put his tongue on your pussy, sliding it from the wetness against his fingers all the way to your clit that he gently sucked on and earned another sweet sound in return from. The sound of you moaning his name made him throb in the sweatpants that he was wearing. He could never hear it enough.
He swirled his tongue around your clit, fingers curling deep inside of you and making you moan out his name again. Your toes curled at the sensation of his warm tongue licking quickly at your clit and his fingers teasing your g-spot. He gave a suck to your clit before he started kissing along your hips towards your leg. Billy left a bite mark on your inner thigh that made you yell out. He kissed the spot, knowing that it was going to bruise— just what he wanted. A wordless way to say that he was here between your legs like nobody else could be ever again.
Your hips struggled against his mouth when he went back to your clit. He could feel the intensity building up; he knew for sure that you were going to have an orgasm soon, so with one final suck, he pulled his mouth and fingers away.
You looked at the man with a betrayed look, one that earned a teasing laugh.
“I told you that I was going to leave you brimming to the edge.” He spoke teasingly, leaning down to press a kiss to your lips that you quickly returned. “Now get on your knees and suck my cock.” Flustered, you were quick to get up and watch the man strip his pants and boxers , letting his aching erection finally be free from the clothing. You got on your knees on the floor at the end of the bed and leaned in to take the head into your mouth.
You could taste the pre-cum that was sliding down his shaft. With a hard suck, you pulled back and let him pop free from your mouth. He gave a soft sigh, hands reaching for your head while you leaned down and licked his balls. Billy watched you quietly, knowing that you knew what you were doing with him. Your tongue slid up his shaft before you engulfed the tip of his cock back into your warm mouth and started to bob your head along him, taking as much of him as you could into your mouth and reaching down with your free hand to hold his balls, occasionally gripping at them with your fingers.
You gave a quiet hum around him, shifting on your knees and pressing your legs together; you were aching for the man, sucking on his cock only made it worse. You were imagining how it would feel inside of you when Billy suddenly thrusted his hips up a couple of times and gagged you with his cock. Following suit, you took more of him into your mouth with every bob of your head, sucking on him and earning a quiet sound from the man as he held tighter onto your hair.
He twitched in your mouth as you sucked hard and slowly worked your way towards teasing his cockhead.
“Fuck,” he mumbled quietly, tugging gently on your hair while you started to deep-throat him again. Your fingers gripped tight at his thighs as he would thrust his hips up occasionally to gag you around him. Billy gave out another sigh before he pulled your head back and his cock slipped from your mouth. Drool slid down your chin as you met his gaze. He guided you up and pressed a kiss to your lips before he pulled you up with him as he stood and turned to shove you onto the bed.
“Scoot back.” You did as he said, moving to where your head would rest on the pillows you had. He sat between your legs, cock throbbing in his hand as he pressed a kiss to your lower stomach. “Ready?” You bit your lip and nodded, eyes following his every movement as he often did with you. Billy moved closer, lifting your legs to rest loosely around his waist.
You shivered as the tip of his cock pressed against your aching entrance. Without a second to spare, Billy started to push himself inside of you, his grip on your legs tight as he watched you lay your head back and moan. He closed his eyes, letting out a quiet moan of his own as he pushed all of himself inside of you.
Billy didn’t wait long, almost immediately starting to thrust his hips and pulling almost all of the way out before shoving it all back inside of you. Your eyes seemed to roll back into your head at the feeling of him bottoming out inside of you.
“Oh, f-fuck, Billy—!“ You moaned weakly, hands reaching down to hold his own against your thighs. “God, please go faster,” you finally met his gaze, eyes desperate as you squeezed his hands. “Please, daddy— please.” He sent you a small, teasing smile at the nickname you had given him long ago. It was an accident at first, but he had said that he wanted you to call him it and it had stuck quickly.
Billy started to thrust his hips faster, earning a pleasured moan from you; it was clear that you’d been aching for this as much as he had, so he decided to give you what you wanted and started to rock his hips even faster against you.
Each thrust seemed to earn him another, sometimes different, sound in pleasure. Billy lifted your legs, letting your ankles rest on his shoulder and leaning up slightly, burying himself further inside of you and earning a loud squeal in return.
He gave a soft chuckle and panted lightly, the feeling of you clenching around him was better than he thought it would be. You were so ready for him, but you were so tight. Squeezing around him with every rough thrust inside of you. Suddenly, he pulled out of you.
“Put your ass up in the air. I’m gonna fuck you in doggy.” You quickly nodded and moved onto your knees, resting down on your elbows. He pressed a soft kiss to your butt before he shoved himself inside of you without warning and nearly made you scream. Billy didn’t start slow and teasing this time. Instead he was fucking you as if he’d done this to you a thousand times, simply knowing your body by heart.
His fingers grabbed at your waist, but he pulled a hand back to give your ass a slap that made you moan as you wiggled back against him. Billy leaned over you, pressing down against your body and wrapping his arm around your neck, letting your chin rest against his forearm while he fucked you as fast as he could in the new position. You shifted beneath the man, being as close as humanly possible while moaning almost pathetically.
He pressed a kiss to the side of your head and moved to grab the headboard with one hand, grabbing your ass with the other and occasionally giving it a rough slap that left it red. Billy moved you, lifting your upper body up with his arm and pressing you flush back against his chest. Your head laid back on his shoulder, your hair tickling his nose before he leaned down and kissed your shoulder where he could.
You were quickly becoming a moaning, blubbering mess against the man as he shoved deep inside of you. This time, he reached around and started to rub your clit, his lips kissing your shoulder as you moaned loudly. You could barely move back against the man as you reached your first orgasm, digging the back of your head into his shoulder.
Billy pushed you forward, pressing your hands to the headboard as he pulled back to watch himself fuck you from behind. He gave a soft moan, glancing at you as your shoulders leaned against the bed frame. You moaned again for the man, returning a few of his lagged thrusts by pushing your hips back against him. He leaned forward and bit your shoulder this time.
“Ah! Billy!” You yelled out, squeezing the mans cock tighter than before as he grabbed rough at your waist. You knew that you would be bruised tomorrow, but you didn’t care. The only thing on your mind was Billy’s cock slamming inside of you and the headboard starting to hit the wall along with the creaking of the bed.
Once again, Billy pulled back and let himself slide out of you, this time turning you and setting you on his legs. He pressed a kiss to your lips, slowly bringing you down with him as he laid on the bed. You shifted on the man, trying not to break the heated kiss as you pushed his cock inside of you. Billy’s hands groped at your ass, lips hot against your own as you started to rock against him.
Finally, you pulled back, leaning back onto his legs and rolling your hips on him. He met your gaze with a dark look in his eyes, fingers holding onto you as if you might disappear. You were flushed, sweaty— but he could only think about you rocking your hips against him. Billy stilled you, starting to thrust up inside of you and giving a soft moan as your breasts bounced with every movement.
You went along, starting to bounce along on his cock until he stopped and let you do the work. Your thighs started to burn quick, but watching Billy lay his head back and gulp was enough to keep you going all night if he asked you to.
A quiet moan left Billy, something you’d heard several times and were shocked by every time. Billy didn’t seem like the kind of guy to moan during sex.
The sound was like heaven to your ears.
When you started to slow your pace, Billy stopped you and leaned himself up onto his elbows, meeting your gaze as he panted along with you.
“Lay down.” Billy moved with you, pulling your hips against him and shoving himself inside of you, making you moan out loudly. He leaned in this time, down on his elbows, his nose pressed to your shoulder as he started to thrust inside of you.
Your toes curled s you wrapped your legs around his waist and clenched at his shoulders. You could feel another orgasm coming quick with every steady thrust from the man.
“Fuck, daddy I’m gonna cum! I’m gonna cum! Please, daddy— don’t stop! Don’t stop!” He didn’t say anything, but he pressed a kiss to your shoulder and continued at his pace, giving a soft grunt as you clenched around him and pressed up against him as you reached another orgasm. “Will you cum in me?” You asked the man after a few desperate pants. He gave a soft hum and pulled back to meet your gaze.
“I sure as hell will.” He pressed his hands flat on either side of your head, watching your face as you moaned out; Billy thrusted his hips quick against you, knowing that he wasn’t going to last much longer.
For this round at least.
He leaned his head back, closing his eyes and biting his lip.
“Fuck,” he mumbled. “You feel so fuckin’ good.” He met your eyes again and panted. “I’m gonna cum.” You reached up, fingers sliding through his hair.
“Cum as deep inside of me as you can so I can feel you dripping out of me.” He bit the inside of his cheek, not letting the higher moans he could give slip from his mouth; instead, he grunted with every thrust, though only giving a few before he quickly shoved all of himself inside of you and moaned quietly as he came. He gave a few slow thrusts afterwards before he let himself rest and licked his lips.
“Goddamn,” he moved away from you, laying on the bed beside you and wrapping an arm around you as you moved closer. You were both still panting, coming down from the high of sex together. “You feel even better than I thought you would.”
“Mmm, ditto.” He chuckled at your sleepy tone and pressed a kiss to your head.
“Is that all you got in you? Just one round?” He teased, but you were quick to fire back.
“Give me five minutes and I could ride your dick for hours.”
“Maybe I should hold you to that.”
“Hold me against whatever you want, baby. If it’s you, I’d certainly not mind.”
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dianneking · 2 months
Text
The Affair - Chapter 1 (Larissa/Reader)
Hiya! As part of my weekly writing challenge, I wrote this chapter over two writing sessions, and I chose not to wait for the fic to be finished before posting. It'll probably be a couple of chapters all together.
Pairing: Larissa Weems/You Rating: Mature
Tags: Morally Ambiguous Character, Swearing, Boss/Employee Relationship, Infidelity, Second-person POV, Teacher Reader.
Link to AO3 in the title
Next Chapter >
The Affair - Chapter 1
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Waiting in the snow for a married woman , you thought, moodily pulling your scarf up to cover your freezing nose as yet another car passed, how the fuck did my life come to this?
You had never been one for thrills in life. If anything, you had been pretty boring: you’d always liked English class at school, always got straight As, never stepped a foot out of line. You never felt the need to, nor the appeal of being rebellious. You’d gone on to get a bachelor’s degree and teacher’s certification, and then you’d gone on to teach English in a string of small town schools.
There was only one aspect out of the ordinary in your life up until now; you could never settle down in one place.. You felt a restlessness, a pull towards something you still hadn’t found, and after a couple of years in a place, it inevitably built up until it was too strong to resist. And so you packed your bags, applied for a job somewhere else, and started anew. 
You didn’t think Jericho would be much different. Small town, 5 thousand inhabitants, only spots of interest a tacky historical reconstruction site and a school full of outcasts. The same one you had applied to. Nothing much to offer. You’d give it a year or two at most. 
You didn’t really care about the fact that you were teaching outcasts. They might drink blood or howl at the moon or whatever in their spare time, but they were teenagers that had to learn to write a proper essay just like anyone else. You prided yourself in your work ethic and told that to the board when they interviewed you. Apparently they appreciated that. Or there was nobody else who had applied. There had been some accidents during the last school year, apparently. The board had repeated several times that it had been a one-off and it had been taken care of definitively.They had all seemed very defensive about the topic. 
Once again, you shrugged it off. You had no time to waste on rumors and things of the past. The school had its quirks, sure, but all schools had, each in their own way. You settled in your quarters on the school grounds, and started reviewing your lesson plans taking into account the notes left by the previous teacher. You settled in for your usual routine of lessons, tests, marking that you were familiar with by now. 
And then she barged into your life, throwing routine and predictability to the wind. 
Even with your aversion to gossip, you’d heard about her. Larissa Weems, the best principal Nevermore had ever had, mysteriously injured in the line of work, supposedly trying to protect the school, and hospitalized for months after that. When talking about her, voices dropped to a whisper out of respect - or fear, you hadn’t been able to ascertain that. 
The day she had come back, you’d have thought royalty was about to visit the school, with the amount of fretting, of preparations, of nervous energy filling the halls and rooms. You’d had to let your classes work on assignments because they had been unable to listen to one word of what you were explaining. You had rolled your eyes in the privacy of your room. Seriously, you’d seen plenty of disruptive principals in your years of teaching, but one who could be so distracting even before she had set foot back in school? That was a first. 
You felt obliged to show up as well to the welcoming committee. The whole staff was there, as well as the student body. Some had even prepared signs, and there was a white banner draped along the balcony on which was written, in red paint, a very wonky Welcome back Princ. Weems . 
It was cute that she was so beloved by her school, you thought, but you were also thinking of how to recover the day of missed lessons, and how to optimize the next days’ so as to go back on track. You tried not to be too miffed about it. 
All of the thoughts of lesson plans and all of the lingering irritation at them being disrupted fled your brain at the sight of the first foot stepping out of the car. Shiny, varnished black shoes, showing off a milky ankle, and a shapely calf that look longer than any you’d seen (not that you made a point of looking at women’s legs all the time, but sometimes your eyes did wander…)
The skin on show was sadly cut off below the knee by the modest hemline of a woolen dress and it was at that point that Nevermore’s principal exited the car in all of her towering beauty, and your mind went completely blank, cause in all of their gossip everyone in Nevermore had forgotten to mention a small, key detail about the principal.
She was stunning. 
The most beautiful woman you’d ever seen was standing before you, waving and smiling regally, as the whole school cheered. You almost didn’t notice all the jubilant ruckus, your eyes too busy raking all over her figure, as if trying to commit every single detail to memory. Her slender, elegant hands, wrapped in leather gloves. The perfectly-tailored coat, in the same fabric and color as the dress. The sparkle of her gold jewelry in the pale winter sun. The perfect proportion of her face, the way the bright red lipstick brought attention to her smile.
Her light eyes were roaming all over the crowd, as if taking stock of known faces and new entries. Finally her gaze fixed on you, and you could see a spark of amusement flicker on her face at seeing you.
You belatedly realized that you had been gaping at her like a fish out of water.
The day after you had still been beating yourself up about the humiliation at being caught slack-jawed staring at your boss when she visited you in your classroom after you were done with the day’s lessons.
She rapped against the doorframe, but strode in before you could say anything. You scrambled to your feet, awkwardly, while she covered the distance from the door to your desk in a couple of long steps. She was wearing another dress today, a tartan dress with a belt that cinched her waist, underlying the shape of her hips and chest while still being completely work-appropriate.  
“So you’re the new teacher they have hired to replace poor Collins.” It wasn’t a question, but you nodded anyway. “I’m Larissa Weems. Usually, I have the final word on new hires. The board does a wonderful job but sometimes they lack a certain sort of practicality in their assessment of candidates, as it happened with the last hire. I wasn’t convinced by her spiel, but the board insisted and…well. I should have trusted my gut instinct.” Her eyes grew distant for a second, before focusing back on you with a hard gaze. You could see the speckles of lighter and darker blue mixing in her irises, and the perfectly applied make-up that highlighted their natural beauty.  You tried to shake yourself out of her charm. She could be trying to fire you, and you were busy ogling her! That’s not the kind of person you were! You cleared your voice, trying to think up something to say to help your case.
“I…”
“I know you have been hired already, and I am sure you are a perfect fit for the role. I’d just like to have a little chat together, nothing too formal, just getting to know each other a little bit better.” She smiled as she said that, and while you were sure it was supposed to be a polite smile, you couldn’t help the shiver that went down your spine at that. 
She looks like a predator closing in on prey , your mind unhelpfully suggested. 
You swallowed, suddenly conscious of your sweaty palms and increasing heart rate. 
“O-of course, ma'am." was all you could meekily say. 
"Perfect." she purred. "Meet me at seven sharp at the Lilac Lounge. I'll have a private booth reserved."
To be continued...
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To Know
aaron hotchner x reader
Summary: You attend your best friend's wedding where you see Hotch for the first time in four years since you were shot on your wedding day by Peter Lewis, forcing him to go into witness protection and leave you.
Part 2
AN/explanation:
Listen it’s been a minute since I’ve written anything and by minute I mean 4 years so bear with me!! There’s probably spelling and punctuation errors but I wrote this in the middle of the night so cut me some slack.
OK so a bit of an explanation on this.. so you know how everyone has their imaginary scenarios they make up before bed or wherever (and if you don’t you’re weird!) well this is mine!! OK not really but ever since I watched CM which was probably about 5/6 years ago now, Hotch was on my mind 24/7 and I have this plot in my head with YEARS worth of scenarios thought out with original characters and everything!! This is just a small snippet of the whole plot I have had thought out for Hotch and Alex (that is what I have named her in my head, but have obviously written it as a Y/N to make it more enjoyable I guess? Idk what people prefer!!). I could probably write a book on this crap but I’ll just start with this part. I am in the process of writing a part two to this so if anyone’s interested I’ll try to get it out before the weekend’s over as this is the only free time I have currently! Now if I ever was going to make this into a series (that’s a very big if) this would be a chapter towards the end of this plot that I have created. Anyways enough rambling…
I am an angst over any other kind of genre girly so that’s all this will be :D this seemed better in my head and it ALWAYS does but I just wanted to get it out of my system.
Hope u enjoy xx
Warnings: smut (a little not too much), cheating.
Word count: 3.9k
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It was your best friend’s wedding and you couldn’t have been happier. Henry was your rock and pretty much the only family you ever had. He had been with you through everything, all the highs and lows, so he deserved today to be absolutely perfect.
You were helping Luca with his tie and giving him a final check over before he went out to marry your best friend. Luca knew how important you were to Henry and how important Henry was to you. The three of you were practically a throuple. OK maybe not a throuple but anyone who was important to Henry became important to you. They had been together for almost 5 years but knew each other for even longer. 
“He’s here you know...” Luca said “Henry invited everyone from the BAU..”
You raised an eyebrow at Luca whilst finishing up with his tie.
“I know,” you replied simply.
Henry was the one who got you a job at the BAU. He knew almost everyone and if he didn’t, he knew someone who did. He had helped out with several cases and knew everyone at the BAU well, so of course they all got an invite to his wedding which was in London. Henry knew your history with Hotch and that meant so did Luca.
“He has them all staying at the Ritz you know, booked a suite out for everyone,’’ Luca rambled.
“I know,” you repeated and rolled your eyes.
Of course he has you thought to yourself, money was never an issue for him. Not that it was for you either but you were slightly more modest than him.
Luca could sense that he wasn’t going to get anything else out of you so he decided to change the topic.
“You think we’re doing the right thing?” He asked referring to him and Henry.
“Absolutely,” you confirmed “he needs you Luca, I don’t even want to imagine what he would be like without you. It’s not something I’m prepared to take on” you let out a laugh. “You two have practically been married for the last 5 years, now it’s just time to make it official!” You gave his arms a squeeze.
“I’ll see you out there, no backing out now,” you gave him a wink and Luca gave you a nod with a smile.
You took that as your cue to leave and made your way towards the alter and towards Henry. As you made your way up to the front you saw all of the guests take their seats. You spotted JJ, Will and her boys a few rows from the front, who were staying at your place for the next few days. Emily, Spencer and Garcia were seated a few rows behind them and you spotted Morgan and Savannah seated on the other side of the room. You were trying to find Rossi and Krystall until your eyes landed on someone else. There he was sitting right next to Rossi with a brunette next to him which you assumed was Beth.
“How is he?” Henry’s voice snapped you back to reality.
“Huh?” Was the only thing that came out of your mouth as you slowly dragged your eyes away from the man that left you on pretty much your death bed and then divorced you.
“Luca – how is he? He’s not making a run for it is he?” Henry laughed but behind the laugh he needed the reassurance. He hadn’t been the perfect fiancé and has put Luca through the wringer at times, but there’s no one else for Henry other than Luca and vice versa.
“Stop being stupid!” You swatted him gently, “Of course not! I stopped him just before he got to the fire exit,” you replied playfully.
“Ha ha very funny,” Henry replied dryly, “And how are you? …You know with him being here.. You did say it was okay for me to invite him but I can send him home if you want. Just tell me and I’ll have him escorted out by security-”
“Please stop, it’s fine. Honestly I mean it. We’ve both moved on. I’m with Avery now and he’s with Beth,” you answered. “Besides today is not about me or my woes, it’s about you!”
-
The wedding ceremony was beautiful and it was now time for the reception. You made your way round to all the tables saying hello to the people you recognised until you reached the table you dreaded the most. Thankfully your husband Avery caught up with you to let you know that it was time to make your way to your seat as it was almost time for your speech.
You gave Rossi a smile in the distance before walking back to your seat, avoiding contact with Hotch for now who was sat right next to him.
-
After the speeches were done and the drinks began floating around the room, everyone felt a lot more relaxed. You were listening to the conversation Emily and Avery were having about a book they both had read, until you felt someone tap your shoulder.
“Hi you must be Y/N! I’m Beth, Aaron has told me so much about you!” Beth exclaimed as you turned around to face her.
“Yes hi! It’s lovely to meet you, I’m sorry I couldn’t introduce myself earlier,” you gave her a smile.
It was a genuine smile, she seemed nice and in any other situation you could even be friends. She is not to blame for what had happened between you and Hotch, however you did wonder what kind of things he has told her about you.
“It’s okay don’t worry about it! I understand how stressful weddings are,” she continued and for a second you thought if she had married Hotch without anyone telling you. Your eyes flicked towards her left hand that was wrapped around a champagne flute. No sign of a ring. You cursed yourself for still caring enough to check.
“That’s a beautiful ring” she said bringing you out of your trance.
You followed her gaze which was now on your own left hand. You hadn’t realised that you were twisting your own wedding ring with your thumb, reminiscing about how it felt when you had the ring on that Hotch gave you. It was a lot smaller than the one you have now. It had an oval diamond in the centre with three green sapphire leaves holding the diamond in place on each side. It was a delicate ring and you loved everything about it. Everything but the dreaded memories that came along with it. The ring was now replaced with a big teardrop diamond from Harry Winston and it was beautiful. It sparkled even in the dark and felt almost heavy on your finger. You had to admit that Avery had great taste, the two of you had now been married for almost 2 years.
“Thank you..” you smiled and let a breath out you didn’t know you were holding.
“Uhm this is Avery my husband-” you cleared your throat, almost forgetting to introduce him to her.
They shared a few polite words until Beth excused herself. You assumed she had gone to find Hotch as she disappeared into the crowd.
“She seems nice,” Avery said and gave you a small smile. He knew what had happened with you and Hotch and he wasn’t his biggest fan but he was never the one to bad mouth him.
“Yeah she does…” you replied quietly whilst your mind drifted off elsewhere. Emily sensed that you were uncomfortable and resumed her conversation with Avery in an attempt to take his attention off you.
-
It was several hours into the reception and you had stepped outside with Luca and lit a cigarette for you both to share.
You had noticed Beth was in the distance on the phone but Hotch was nowhere to be seen.
“Today has been beautiful,” you hummed as you took a pull of the cigarette and passed it to Luca.
“It really has been, thank you for helping Henry with the planning,” he expressed.
You both conversed about the wedding and your favourite parts until someone had interrupted you.
“Oh sorry,” your eyes followed his voice, “I thought Beth was out here,” he explained as he looked between you and Luca.
“She is,” you pointed with the cigarette between your fingers “she’s just gone into the gazeebo over there to take a call I think,” you replied.
“Thank you,” he looked into your eyes longer than he should have before he began walking her way.
“Is this the first time you’ve spoken to him tonight?” Luca asked whilst following your gaze that was still on Hotch.
“Yup.”
“There’s an explanation. I am sure he has an explanation,” Luca tried standing up for the man he barely knew.
You didn’t respond and instead focused your gaze on something else.
“You know… and I really shouldn’t be saying this but... I think Henry might’ve had something to do with it,” Luca continued.
“What makes you say that? Has he told you something?” You questioned focusing your attention back on Luca.
“Nope. He doesn’t tell me anything when it’s to do with work and I thank him for it. But it wouldn’t surprise me if he did. He would do anything to keep you safe. Even if it meant putting your newly husband into witness protection…”
You thought about it for a minute or so and yes maybe Henry was the one who suggested going into witness protection but that still doesn’t explain the radio silence from Hotch even after Peter Lewis was caught.
“I want you to have what me and Henry have,” Luca brought you out of your thoughts once again.
“I have that. With Avery, he makes me happy,” you replied not knowing if it’s the full truth. Avery does make you happy and you love him but you’re not sure if it compares to what you and Hotch had and it seems like Luca doesn’t either.
“Let’s get back in there shall we? I’m sure Henry is looking for you!” You perked up, trying to change a conversation that was becoming too heavy for your liking. 
-
Since you were one of the few people who didn’t drink at the wedding, you decided to give Emily, Spencer, and Garcia a lift back to the hotel whilst Avery, JJ, Will, and the boys got an Uber home back to your place.
The car ride back to the hotel turned into an episode of carpool karaoke with Emily blasting any and every song that came on the radio.
Once you pulled up to the hotel you helped Emily out of the car and then let Spencer take over. You were about to shut the passenger door when you noticed a phone on the seat Emily was sat in.
“You left your phone Beyonce!” You called out to Emily as she was finishing her 3rd run of single ladies from the start.
You caught up with her and placed the phone in her hand, she took one look at it and blurted out that it’s Beth’s and that she had found it by some gazebo outside.
You pressed the lock button on the side and the phone lit up revealing a picture of Hotch and Beth set as the lock screen.
“What room is she in do you know?” You asked Emily but she just shrugged her shoulders and carried on signing. Spencer and Penelope both gave you a shrug signalling that they didn’t know either.
“Right I will just leave it with reception. The three of you get some sleep ok, we have brunch tomorrow!” You shouted even though the three of them were already inside the hotel queuing up for the elevator.
You pressed the lock button once again making the phone light up just to stare at the lock screen once more. With a sigh you then began to make your way into the hotel and walked towards reception.
“Hello Miss can I help you with anything?” The lady asked.
“Uh yes actually, I’m trying to return a lost phone to a friend of mine but I don’t remember the room number. Could you please let me know? It should be a suite under the name Hotchner, they’re here for a wedding,” you smiled hoping she’d give you the information you needed.
She typed away on her keyboard for a few seconds before replying to your question.
“I have an Aaron Hotchner on the system along with a Beth Clemmons sharing suite 107?”
“Yes that’s the one! Thank you so much!” You thanked the lady and made your way to the elevator. Emily and the others were long gone, probably passed out in their beds by now you hoped.
-
You tapped softly on the door waiting for someone to open it and hoping that it wasn’t Beth. You weren’t even sure what you were doing, what you were going to say, what if Beth’s awake, what would happen then?
You had no excuse and no business to be knocking on his hotel door. Well aside from the fact that he left you on your wedding night right after you got shot, had someone serve you with divorce papers as soon as you came out of your coma and you still haven’t had an explanation even though it’s been close to 4 years.
After a few moments the door was gently pulled open and there he stood. Still in his shirt and trousers from the wedding. He looked taken back seeing you stand there in the hallway. Although you were the only one on his mind tonight, you still had caught him off guard.
“Hi…” Was all that he managed to say.
“Hi…” you breathed out. “..Beth left her phone at the wedding reception,” you said holding it up as proof.
You looked behind him and could see 3 mini whisky bottles that were now empty, lined up on the coffee table. On the left you could see two large double doors that were shut behind the sofa. You had assumed that’s where Beth was sleeping as there was no sign of her anywhere else.
“Oh… Well thank you for bringing it here, you didn’t have to go out of your way...”
“It’s okay I was dropping Emily and the others off anyway,” you replied whilst handing him the phone.
As he took the phone from you he moved slightly to the side, almost inviting you in before actually saying it.
“Would you like to come in?” he paused for a moment, “…please come in” he pleaded. “I’ve been meaning to talk to you the whole night I just didn’t want to disturb you. Beth’s asleep so you don’t have to worry about her or we could take a walk somewhere,” he went on; desperation clear in his voice.
Instead of replying you walked past him making your way into his room, a completely different side of you taking over.
You made your away towards the sofa, never sitting down just standing in front of it. You turned to face Hotch who closed the door and walked towards you, stopping just a few inches away. You could tell he had been drinking. You had obviously seen him drink at the wedding but he left several hours ago yet here he was emptying the mini fridge in his hotel suite.
You eyed the bottles on the coffee table.
“Rough night?’ You asked but it sounded more like a statement. When you looked back at him his mouth was slightly open, almost as if he was thinking of what to say but no words were coming out.
You tilted your head to the side as you took in his features. He looked different. Good but different.  After all these years had passed, you never knew when you would be able to get a good look at him again, and god how much you’d missed his handsome face. The last memory you had of it was when you collapsed in his arms after being shot during your first dance as Mr and Mrs. You don’t remember much after that, just faint shouting in the distance as your vision went blurry until you eventually passed out in his arms.
“I- um I don’t know what to say Y/N… I don’t even know where to begin,” he expressed. Concern, pain and regret all clear in his voice.
Before he could continue you lifted your hand up in an attempt to stop him from saying anything else. That’s not what you came here for.
“I am so sorry,” he breathed out but you took a step closer to him and placed one of your fingers on his lips to silence him.
“Shh,” you whispered whilst you ran your other hand slowly down his chest stopping at the belt of his trousers. You could feel his pulse quicken as he took in what you were doing.
Never breaking eye contact you began to gently move your hand lower until you reached his crotch. You then began to palm him with a bit more force, feeling him harden underneath your touch. A slight smirk played on your lips as you realised how much of an affect you still had on him, how much his body still responded to you. You believed that you were the only one that could get him this flustered, to get him to cheat on his girlfriend, to get him this hot and bothered over practically nothing.
“Take off your trousers...” you hissed.
The concern and regret was now replaced with confusion and curiosity but he did as he was told and began to undo his belt. You watched him carefully as he dropped his trousers to the floor stopping at his boxers.
“You can leave those on, this won’t take long,” you instructed coldly and pushed him onto the sofa. As he sat down he reached over to switch a small table lamp off, leaving a soft glow on your silhouette that was coming from a floor lamp on the other side of the room.
You lifted your dress and rolled it up stopping at your waist whilst you straddled Hotch. The familiar feeling of his dick beneath you was enough to send you over the edge.
You lifted yourself up slightly using your knees and grabbed him through his boxers, silently thanking him for wearing a pair with the slit. He watched your every move and took in a sharp breath when your hand made contact with him and took another when you gently lowered yourself onto his dick.
You began rocking your hips, savouring every single second. You started to pick the pace up and you felt Hotch move in to kiss you to which you gently pushed his head back with your hand, not wanting any other intimacy other than the feeling of him inside you and maybe you inside of him.
You took two of your fingers and placed them on his lips again, this time using them to part his mouth. You gently slipped them inside and he welcomed it. You decided to push them in deeper. Not deep enough to hurt him but deep enough to your liking. Your fingers felt cold against his tongue.
At that point you knew you were close and so was he, your fingers in his mouth helped him to stifle his moans, whilst you watched him intently. After a few moments you felt him twitch beneath you as he threw his head back when he came and you shortly followed.
You removed your fingers from his mouth and gently stood up lowering your dress back down giving the man you still loved one last look before turning around to leave. Just before you got the door you stopped and turned around, he was now up grabbing his trousers off the floor.
“You left me… I was in a coma Hotch and when I came out of it you weren’t there. You left me Aaron.”
Without giving him a second to respond you left and closed the door behind you.
-
As you stepped into the elevator a thousand thoughts were racing in your head. You began to question yourself on why you had come here in the first place, but you knew exactly why. You wanted to see if you still had that control over him, you wanted to see if you could still have him, if he still belonged to you. And he did. You thought about how your relationship had evolved from being just co-workers to friends from friends to lovers and from lovers to strangers. That’s what it felt like being in that room with him. Just two strangers having sex. That was probably the first time the two of you had sex instead of making love. There was a difference between the two and you knew which one you preferred.
Deep down you knew why he had to leave and most importantly leave without you, but it still didn’t make it any less painful. You had thought back to what Lucas said earlier when you were outside, that Henry might’ve had something to do with it... But the truth is whether he did or didn’t it wouldn’t have changed the outcome. He needed to leave, to hide and go into witness protection. Not only for his and Jacks safety but for yours too. It all made sense. Peter Lewis couldn’t hold you over him anymore if you had no connection to him so he left. He left without you and then had you served with divorce papers.
The elevator doors opened and snapped you back to reality. You shook your head in an attempt to get rid of the thoughts. You didn’t want to go back there, you had tried your hardest to move past that part of your life and dwelling about the details and the what if’s is something you didn’t want to do anymore. You had wasted enough time doing that and you’ve moved on since then and so has Hotch. But sometimes late at night when you can’t sleep, those thoughts creep back in and they have a way of suffocating you.
“Did you manage to return your friends phone?” The lady behind the reception desk asked with a smile.
“Yes I did, thank you so much for your help again!” You replied and returned the smile.
You made your way to the parking lot and got into your car and made your way home… To your husband…. Who you had just cheated on with your ex-husband. You pulled out of the parking lot and let the memories from earlier fill your mind. You had glanced briefly at your watch and the time told you that is was quarter past three. You groaned at the thought of having to be up before 11 am later that day for a brunch that Henry and Luca had organised with a smaller amount of guests, which included the BAU team.
You had wondered if he’ll be there with Beth or if he won’t show.
To be continued....
Part 2
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nolita-fairytale · 10 months
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burn your life down | chef luca x fem! reader | part seven
summary: you and luca go to a club opening and take an opportunity to learn more about each other.
warnings: fluff, smut (18+ only), eventual angst not use of y/n, conversations about divorce, slow burn, baby, second person pov, swearing, danish inaccuracies, very little connection to the world of the bear.
word count: 5.3k
listen to: the official 'burn your life down' playlist
a/n: hi cuties. here is a long chapter with a whole lot of juicy content considering i've been gone all week. i'm also hard launching what luca's last name could be in this series -- something i've brainstormed with @arctvrvs and @superhoeva. there IS smut so please be respectful of it being 18+ only content.
also: mild implication on reader/mc having some kind of asian heritage, but you can super not take it that way, which is why i wrote joe's family as japanese-english. let me know if you'd like to be added or removed from the taglist!
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part six | masterlist | part eight
“Cool shoes,” you say, your eyes fixed to Luca’s choice of Nikes for the night, instantly chuckling to yourself as you realize how silly the words coming out of your mouth sound. It’s like you’re a kid again, sitting on the back of the bus with her crush, trying to come up with something– anything – to say.
Luca chuckles, stealing a glance your way as he replies, “Yeah I've got a bit of a thing for them – trainers.”
“I… noticed,” you say, exchanging a look with him, your eyes meeting his as the two of you sit side by side on the train.
“Oh yeah?” he asks, with a raised eyebrow. 
“Well, there’s the coffee table book – that and you wore some to the ballet,” you explain, a blush running across your cheeks. 
“You noticed that?” he questions with a hint of amusement in his voice, only a little surprised that you’ve picked up on the little things before he’s shared them with you. 
“I notice you,” you answer, your voice quieter, yet genuine in your admission.”
He smirks. 
“And?”
“And… so far, I like what I see,” you flirt, boldly, this time. 
The right side of his mouth turns up into a small smile, and while you’re too busy reading his facial expressions, Luca’s busy finding your hand with his. You can feel it: the lightest touch that sets off butterflies in your belly, his fingers tangling with yours as you ride the train with him to Vesterbro, the humble beginnings of something good. 
As Luca continues glancing over at you, he shakes his head incredulously, letting out a small laugh in the opposite direction. 
“Hmm?” you hum, inquisitively, stealing a glance his way this time. 
“You just ehm…” he trails off, almost as if he’s not sure how to say what he wants to say next. “... you look… really beautiful tonight.” 
“Uh-, I-, Thank you,” you stumble through, deciding you’ll just accept his compliment. 
It’s not like you don’t know it – didn’t know what you were doing when you put on the barely-there lace bodysuit meant to be a lingerie teddy, that lays perfectly layered underneath your high rise pair of denim. The plunge neckline is cut deep, showcasing quite a bit of inner boob, so much of your cleavage, that you put pasties on just in case. You can tell Luca’s having trouble not ogling you as you smirk, giving his hand a confident squeeze. 
As you get off the train and back up to street level, you discover that it’s not a long walk to where the newly-opened club is located. Luca hasn’t let go of your hand and you savor the feeling of new love as the two of you walk hand in hand. 
“So explain to me again what all the drama’s about again,” Luca requests, recalling something you previously mentioned. 
“Oh it’s a whole thing,” you sigh, as you begin trying to explain yesterday’s gossip. “The guy Jesper is dating is one of the guys opening the club. I don’t think it’s serious, perhaps just a… fling of sorts, but Jesper’s ex-girlfriend who he dated for two years is a… well, she’s a bit of an influencer and it’s a whole thing because she’ll be there too.”
“Ooof,” Luca sounds, giving you a grateful hand squeeze. 
“Yeah. Any ex girlfriends we might run into tonight?” you ask, only half-joking. 
Luca shakes his head, “I doubt it. I don’t get out much.” He pauses. “Think my last serious ex-girlfriend moved to Spain a year ago or so.”
You hum in response, momentarily relieved that the likelihood of running into any of Luca’s exes tonight is low, considering it wasn’t something you’d worried about until the words were coming out of your mouth. You’re ready to wait in the line that’s formed outside of the club until you hear the sharp sound of Jesper calling your name, waving you into the club. You watch as he exchanges words with the bartender, while Luca mutters something to you about how fancy he feels about skipping the line. 
You and Luca follow Jesper down the long, dark hallway, the feeling of pulsating music and a heavy bassline undulating underneath your feet with each step. It feels more like a grungy club in Berlin than Copenhagen, but it seems like it’s what they’re going for, and you thank your past-self for choosing to wear something this sexy. While you feel out of place, at least you look like you knew what you were getting yourself into. 
“I’m glad you made it!” Jesper shouts over the loud music as he leads you and Luca to a table in the VIP area. 
“What? Thought I’d skip?” you shout back with a raised eyebrow. 
This time, Jesper leans in closer, “Thought you and Prince Charming would have a hard time leaving the bedroom now that you two are-.”
“Jesper!”
“What?” he asks with a shrug, looking from you to Luca, who sends you a quizzical look of his own. 
You send him an ‘I’m so sorry’ look before ignoring Jesper’s comment. 
“I don’t think I’m drunk enough for this yet,” you say, and you’re only half-joking. 
“Can I get you a drink?” Luca asks, overhearing your comment. 
“Yes,” you nod, before telling him your drink order. 
“Great. I’ll go,” he offers, though it’s more like a confirmation than anything else. He leaves the sweetest peck on your lips, earning a look from Jesper as you watch Luca disappear into the crowd. 
“Please don’t tell me you haven’t-,” Jesper groans. 
“We haven’t,” you interject, firmly. 
“You’ve got more self control than I would,” Jesper sighs, disappointedly as he shakes his head your way. 
Before you can reply, a pair of arms are wrapping around you as Mathilde’s voice follows with:
“Jesus Christ! Who said you could be hotter than me at my brother’s fling’s club opening?” Mathilde teases you, giving you a big hug. 
“It’s not just a fling!” Jesper protests at the same time as you, replying with: “It’s good to see you too, Mathilde.”
It really had only been a few hours since you closed down the restaurant for the night, but seeing the Mikkelson twins off the clock was a whole other animal. You can imagine a time, when they were both single, that the two of them could have ruled the Copenhagen social scene – two fiery forces to be reckoned with. 
“So have we run into the ex-girlfriend yet?” you ask, desperate to get the spotlight off of whether you and Luca had slept together yet. 
“Ahhhh,” Mathilde smirks. “No sign yet, but my money is on a fashionably late arrival.”
“What’s the drama? Claudio knows you’re bi. You and Sofia ended on good terms. I don’t get it,” you ask, curiously. 
“Because it’s Claudio’s big night. And I don’t want anything to fuck with it,” Jesper begins. 
“And because Jesper’s a big drama queen,” Mathilde adds, as her brother glares at her in response. 
“Who cares about how the night goes,” you chime in, from the perspective of an optimist.
“So you and Luca…” Mathilde solicits, raising her eyebrows a few times cheekily. 
“It’s good,” you guys, a broad smile spreading across your lips. “I mean… it’s really, really good.”
It’s good morning texts. And funny cartoons he sends you from the paper. And using him as a soundboard for new dish ideas.
“I’m proud of you, babe,” Mathilde smiles proudly. “For taking the leap.”
“I-,” you begin, before pausing. “Me too. I’m proud of me too.”
It’s then that you see Luca appear, just at the opening of the VIP area, headed in your direction with Emil following closely behind. 
“Hey!” you greet the both of them as they approach. While Luca has your drinks, Emil carries a tray filled with shots that you're not entirely sure you’re ready for. Your eyes widen. “Shots?”
Emil only shrugs, as Jesper corrals you, Luca, and Mathilde for a round of shots. You all pick up the soon-to-be-yours shot glasses, as Luca scoots over so that he stands closely, next to you. 
He leans in, the feeling of his lips ghosting over your ear sends a chill down your spine as he murmurs, “How much do you want to bet we’ll regret this tomorrow?”
“Oh, so much,” you answer, turning ever so slightly towards him, your lips inchest away from his. 
“To a night of letting loose,” Jesper shouts over the loud music as he begins his toast. “To old friends.” He pauses, toasting his glass towards Luca this time. “And new.” 
“Skal!”
“Skal!” you all echo as you cheers. 
“Eye contact!” Jesper orders, earning a laugh from you and another questioning look from Luca. 
Over the electronic music and flashing laser lights, you take in the sound of shot glasses hitting the table, the faces made in response to the bitter liquid, the whoops and cheers of a triumphant first shot of the night. 
You set your shot glass down on the tray along with the other empty ones as Luca asks you:
“Eye contact?”
“Yeah,” you shrug in response, taking a more flirtatious approach as you continue your explanation. “You’ve gotta make eye contact while you cheers or it’s seven years of bad sex.”
“Huh,” Luca smirks in response as you take his hand. 
“I think I’m ready for a proper drink now,” you coo, a seductive tone in your voice that Luca hasn’t heard yet. 
He likes it. Not just because it’s for him, but because he likes discovering these new parts of you, unraveling you as he goes, finding something different every time. 
And the more he learns, the more he likes you. 
He really likes you.
Luca is quick to locate where he put your drinks down right before you started taking shots. He hands you yours, then goes for his this time, raising his glass towards you. 
“Cheers,” you say with a raise of an eyebrow. 
“Cheers,” he replies, clinking his glass with yours with immovable eye contact. 
You raise your glass to your lips, taking your first sip, as Luca does the same, holding your gaze the entire time as if it’s a damn promise. Before anything can get too heated (because you swear the way he’s looking at you could start a forest fire) you hear the sound of Mathilde’s voice as she saunters over to the two of you. 
“Luca!” you hear her call out. “Come. Have a sit. I want to know everything about you.” 
You giggle, watching her usher Luca away so that she can bombard him with questions, and your heart fills with warmth. He’s here – meeting your friends, meeting your people – and you don’t even feel like running in the opposite direction. 
-------------------------------
In tandem with the loud, pulsating dance music, you move your hips in a swaying motion, against the feel of Luca’s tall, broad body. You’ve got your arms wrapped around his neck and at this point, you’re quite sure you’ve lost count of the drinks you’ve had. 
That anyone’s had, really. 
“Have I told you how absolutely ravishing you look tonight?” Luca rasps, leaning down so that the sound he makes vibrates right against your ear. 
You let out a gasp, the feel of his body pressed up against yours and the sound of his voice all feel too good. 
“I think last time you said ‘beautiful,’” you tease him, playfully. 
“Why can’t it be both, darling?” he asks you, grinning down at you. 
Instead of answering, you pull him towards you, pressing your mouth to his in a passionate attempt, yet very sloppy, drunk kiss. 
Do you want to get out of here? is what you think he’s going to say, but instead, Luca pulls back from the kiss, only to lean in once more as he whispers in your ear:
“Are you hungry?”
You laugh at the unexpected question, and suddenly, it becomes apparent to you that you’re starving. 
“Yes. You wanna get out of here?” you ask back. 
“Lead the way.”
Knowing it’ll take longer than you’d like for it too, you bypass the idea of trying to find everyone to say goodbye, and skip right to the Irish Goodbye, leading Luca out of the noisy club and back out to the bustling streets that are the red light district. The two of you are blissfully drunk and giggly as you sit on the train, on the way back to your place.
You’re more than grateful that you live so close to the train station, since it’s only a quick walk back to your apartment.
“I can’t believe those girls from the train were only just starting their night’s. Can you believe it?” you ask with a giggle, as Luca follows you up the stairs of your walk up. You fidget with your keys, unlocking the door as you continue on about how you’re not twenty five anymore and tonight’s reminded you that you can barely keep up now.
But Luca doesn’t answer your question. 
Instead, as soon as you close the door behind you, he’s pressing you up against it and kissing you like he’s going off to war tomorrow. You sigh his name against his lips as you kiss him back, completely turned on by the brute force of a man as tall as him. Your head spins as you realize that he’s only just started kissing you and he’s already got you this hot and bothered. You can’t tell whether it’s the alcohol, the way his lips move expertly against yours, or the way his hands snake up your torso, inching dangerously close to the exposed skin of your plunging lace teddy. 
“Touch me,” you gasp as an encouragement, impatient with the way your nerves seem to be screaming for more of his touch.
“Oh fuck,” he groans, his large hands moving to cover your breasts, only confirming his suspicions that you’ve been braless this whole time. 
This new discovery leads to another moan from his mouth as his hands wrap around you, pulling you closer to him. Luca presses his forehead against yours, abruptly breaking the kiss, his breath heavier, more uneven now. 
“Fuck, I think I might be too pissed for this,” Luca murmurs, as you try to catch your breath, knowing that he means drunk. 
You giggle, as you admit, “That’s-. Yes. I… too am very drunk.” 
“It’s not that I don’t want to,” he starts up again, leaving a small kiss on your lips. “But I’m not sure that’s quite the impression I want to leave on you either.” 
“That’s… so respectable,” you say on an exhale, in pure disbelief of how perfect this man is. 
“Plus,” he continues, in between kisses as his lips begin to place gentle kisses along your jaw, your neck, your collarbone. “When we do finally sleep together. I want you to remember. Every. Single. Thing. I do to you.”
You’re not sure whether you feel completely sexually frustrated or entirely turned on by how responsible of a decision Luca’s making for the both of you, considering the circumstances. Luca leaves a trail of kisses up your neck once more earning a moan from you as manage to get out:
“Fuck, okay. Just let me cook you something.” 
You both laugh as he agrees to the terms of your agreement. You playfully shove Luca off of you, knowing that you won’t be able to function much longer if he stays pressed up against you like this. 
“Wait here,” you order, holding up your index finger as if to say, ‘give me a moment,’ before disappearing into your bedroom. 
-------------------------------
By the time you emerge from your bedroom, you’ve changed into one of your favorite t-shirts to sleep in – an old, mildly tattered Rolling Stones tee that you once bought at the thrift shop back in college. Luca’s kicked off his shoes and has found a few of your cookbooks that he’s started flipping through as you pull an amalgam of half-full frozen dumpling bags out of your freezer. With your pan on the stovetop preheating, you silently offer Luca a glass of water, before leaving a soft kiss on his lips once more. 
You put a little music on, just something soft for the background as you add oil to the increasingly hot pan. Luca hums along with the song that’s playing, cookbook in one hand, glass of water in the other, as he approaches you, making his way to the kitchen island that sits directly across from your gas stove. He settles in, placing both objects down on the counter top as he sits down on the barstool you have tucked underneath the kitchen island. 
There’s a quiet intimacy about the way you move around each other, so comfortable, so familiar, even if you’ve only just met within the last few months. The sound of sizzling hot oil as you place the first frozen dumpling down into the pan adds texture to the symphony of your evening: your choice of music, Luca’s soft humming, the way the pan slides against the coils of your gas stove as you shake it. 
“Did you grow up cooking like this?” Luca asks, breaking the comfortable silence between you. 
“Uh… yes. And also no,” you reply, cryptically, ready to explain more. 
“I’ve been meaning to ask,” Luca says with a chuckle. “You know… when I met you. When I first came to the restaurant… I was pleasantly surprised.” He takes a beat, taking a quick sip of water as he explains himself. “It’s just that the whole fusion thing got a little tired, a little too played out, but you seem to have given it new breath… new life.” Luca flips the page of the book he’s been examining. 
“And I recall you saying something about an Italian restaurant… so the Asian inspired flavors….”
“Yeah, no, it’s a great question,” you reply, turning to look at him as you let the bottoms of the dumplings crisp up. “So my mom was a single parent – raised me solo. Growing up we ate a lot of easy things… you know, like frozen dumplings… and lots of Stouffer’s lasagnas which… you could say that that combination alone is perhaps the foundation of discovering my culinary voice.” 
You chuckle, recalling your childhood memories as you share more.
“So no, I didn’t grow up cooking with her often. We didn’t do the whole… sit around a table and make dumplings for hours kind of thing, but Mom always has a bag of ‘em in the freezer and chili oil on hand. But yes, I grew up cooking like this, more so than anything I do now.”
Luca nods as he listens, his half smile growing as you so openly share about yourself. The way he responds to you – to learning about you – only makes you want to share more. It’s all true… but it’s not the whole story. 
“Do you have siblings?” he asks, curiously. 
“Nope, just me,” you answer, before deciding that you really do want to answer Luca’s initial question. 
“I actually learned a lot of this stuff – about miso, how to make a proper dashi, how to pleat dumplings – from Joe. From his mom,” you hesitate, before pausing. 
You want to check in with Luca, searching his face for any kind of reaction, before you proceed to talk about your ex husband considering you were so close to getting naked with him just minutes ago. 
“Is it okay… if I talk about him?” 
“Yeah,” Luca answers with a shrug, as if it were the simplest answer in the world. “He was a big part of your life – of you. And I like learning about you.” 
You accept his answer, trying your best to be cool about the fact that the level of emotional maturity it takes to respond that way really impresses the hell out of you. Realizing that it’s time to add water to your fry pan you turn your back to Luca momentarily once more. You add the smallest bit of water from your drinking glass, a white hot sound filling your ears as the cooking process goes from pan-frying to pan-steaming. You cover the pan tightly with its lid before turning back to Luca. 
“Joe’s family… they’re Japanese-English, which is really where I learned to start blending my own stories into food,” you explain, with an honesty that makes you feel incredibly naked right now. “His mom would teach me very traditional Japanese recipes when we first started dating – I think it’s how she knew how to connect with me, how we got to know each other, and I was more than eager to learn. we got to know each other. I… sort of always had a thing for food, for cooking, and learning things I didn’t necessarily learn in my immediate family unit… it was cool, you know? I just, I didn’t think it could really be a career, wasn’t my priority at the time to be an artist as the full-time gig.”
“But the more I learned from her, the more I realized that it wasn’t dissimilar from what I’d learned growing up inside of my best friend’s family’s Italian restaurant. And it all just kind of… grew from there. After Joe and I got divorced, I figured it was now or never, take the leap, do the thing I always wanted to do.”
“Opening a restaurant. That was your dream?” he asks, searching for confirmation. You nod as he smiles proudly. 
“And look at you now.”
“Yes,” you chuckle, taking a breath. “Yeah, somehow I now have a whole new life and restaurant in Copenhagen.”
“You do,” Luca nods, admiration evident in his eyes. 
You take a beat because the way he looks at you sends another rush through you, and this time, you know it’s not the alcohol. 
“While we’re on the subject… What about you? What are your parents like?” you ask, shifting the spotlight over to him this time. 
“Well, like you, I grew up mostly with a single mom,” Luca replies, as a flash of recognition flashes through your eyes. 
“Mostly?” you question. 
“Yeah um..” he trails off.
“We don’t have to talk about it if you don’t-,” you interject.
“No, I-, I want you to know,” he reassures you, a soft look in his eyes that makes you want to trust his word, as if he wants you to know him too. 
“Okay,” you say, softly. 
You’re not sure a man’s ever let you in like this before and it feels terrifying and electric all at once. 
“My full name is Luca Davies-Bernardi,” he starts. “...but I dropped the last part when I turned eighteen.” Luca flips another page over, glancing down quickly before he returns his gaze to yours. 
“My mum had me when she was pretty young. Got a bit of the short end of the stick when my dad left her and me. I was… three or four maybe? A real tosser, if you ask me.”
“Woah,” you sound on an exhale, as you listen. 
“Yeah,” he scoffs, before continuing. 
“He got another woman pregnant. Moved back to Italy instead of staying here with us. Apparently I’ve got a sister, out there… somewhere.”
You wait a beat before asking:
“And he never tried to keep in touch?”
“He tried,” Luca admits, a hint of bitterness in the way the words come out. “But I was a really angry kid. And as I grew older, I just didn’t see the point.”
“I’m sorry,” you apologize, empathetically. 
“No it’s-, I dunno,” Luca shrugs. “I much rather put my energy into my relationship with my mum. We’re actually quite close.” 
“Yeah?” you ask with a smile, because it really is the most darling thing you’ve ever heard. 
“Yeah,” he answers, leaning in to show you the larger forearm piece he has on his left arm. “I got this tattoo for her. She was a nurse… for most of my childhood. It’s what she had to do, so she worked a lot. I had a lot of time on my hands, perhaps why I got into so much trouble as a kid. Really put her through it till I started working in the kitchen.”
“You little rebel, you,” you tease him, with a giggle. Turning your attention back to your stovetop, you remove the lid and the pan for its heat source, before turning off the stove entirely. Giggling again you add, “You know, I’m just trying to picture it. 
“Oh, I’m sure I have a few old photos around my flat somewhere,” Luca laughs, as if it’s a promise that he’ll show you someday.
“Your mom sounds like a badass,” you sigh, making your way around your small kitchen island so that you’re standing right in front of him. 
“So does yours,” he replies, reaching for your hands. 
As your eyes take in the ink that adorns his hands and his arms, you drag your fingertips across the little designs: the A, the scotch bonnet, the nurse tattoo he got for his mother. 
“And I like them… your tattoos,” you finally say, breaking the momentary silence between the two of you. 
“Oh yeah?” he smirks, his eyes catching yours as you look up at him. 
“Yesssss. They are… very sexy,” you smirk in return, biting down on your lower lip as you run your fingertips along his inked forearms. 
“Glad you like ‘em. They’re permanent,” he preens, showing off cheekily
“Oh shut up,” you tease him as you place the gentlest peck against his full lips. 
He chuckles, pulling you in for another kiss, this time deepening it. 
As Luca kisses you, your mind wanders to his choice of words. 
Permanent. 
Of course it’s too freaking soon to think anything else of it other than this: 
If it were up to him, Luca’s not planning on going anywhere anytime soon. 
-------------------------------
As the morning light trickles in through your bedroom window, it dawns on you that you are not alone. You blink your eyes open, taking in the image of the gorgeous man that lays beside you. 
The one who you ate dumplings with on your couch in the early hours of the morning. The one that fell asleep with you in your bed last night, because there was no way in hell you were letting him walk home at 4 am. The one who's making your heart race and your head spin and who reminds you that there is romance in this world. 
Yep, that one. 
You slip out of bed, careful not to wake him as you get up to pee, the massive headache a result of far too many drinks consumed last night. You tiptoe into your kitchen, filling up your glasses from last night with fresh water before heading back to the bedroom. 
“Good idea,” Luca says, as he notices the glasses of water you return with. 
“Sorry, did I wake you?” you ask. 
He shakes his head, “It’s alright.”
“Figured they’d be helpful considering neither of us are 21 any more,” you joke in reference to the water, as Luca sits up in your bed. 
Handing him his glass, he happily takes it before taking a few greedy sips of water. It’s a silent exchange: he hands you the water glass and you place it back on your bedside table before crawling back into bed with him. 
The way you fit curled up against his side feels better than you imagined as he wraps an arm around your shoulders, whispering a soft ‘good morning.’ 
“Morning,” you reply softly. 
You’re not sure how long you lay there, or how long it takes, or who makes the first move, but one minute you’re peacefully snuggled up to Luca’s side, and the next, he’s all over you, rolling you over onto your back as he presses hot kisses to your mouth, to your neck, his hands snaking underneath your favorite Rolling Stones t-shirt as you sigh out his name. 
“Luca.”
“Yes, love?”
You repeat your plea from last night – now that neither of you are intoxicated. 
“Touch me.” 
No longer hesitant, Luca grabs at your breasts, his face buried in your neck as he sucks, kisses, leaves love bites all over you as you arch your chest up into his hands. Large hands cover each breast and you moan as you feel his thumbs graze your nipples, your breathing becoming heavier with each touch. 
“God, you’re incredible,” he murmurs into your skin, one hand making its way down your body at a smooth, slow pace. His fingers play with the waistband of your panties, and he knows that he’s got you in the palm of his hand as you’re more than impatient for him to continue his exploration. 
“May I?” he asks cooly.
You let out a frustrated moan, anticipating his touch like your life depends on it. 
“Please,” you beg, a desperateness in your voice that you’re unfamiliar with. 
“Well when you ask so nicely,” Luca smirks, cockily. 
You wish you had it in you to roll your eyes, to shake your head, to tell him to shut it, but as soon as his fingers slip into your panties, your mind goes blank. He sighs softly at the feel of you, then puts all of his energy into sliding your panties down your legs, the wet heat of you already slick with desire for him. 
“My god,” he groans, as soon as his fingers find the wetness that’s pooled between your legs. “This all for me?” 
And you don’t even have it in you to reply, letting out a loud, keening moan as his fingers slide through your folds, parting them as he explores new territory. They move up a few inches, dragging your wetness up and down your core, expertly finding your clit as you hiss in pleasure. 
“What do you think?” you bite back, letting out another moan. 
Luca smirks, watching as you writhe underneath him, enjoying the way you look at his mercy. 
“I think,” he begins, his fingers rubbing circles around your clit, earning a gasp from your mouth. “I know. That this is all for me.”
“Fuck!” you cry out as Luca pushes his index finger into you. 
The way you feel stretching around his finger elicits a moan from him too this time. 
“You’re so tight, love,” he groans, as if he’s getting off to the idea of you. 
You fall into a haze as Luca begins to fuck you with his finger. One. Then two. And before you know it, he’s moving at a rapid pace, his fingers buried deep inside of you, hitting that spongy spot inside of you that has you calling out his name while his thumb comes up to pay close attention to your clit once again. You’re on the edge, ready to come undone, the coil that’s building in your belly ready to burst. 
It’s all Luca, and fuck, and I’m so close, and yes right there, are met with groans of your name, eyes that look at you like you’re a work of art, and hands that are intent on bringing you to your climax. 
“I want to see you fall apart, love,” Luca commands, his voice low and raspy. 
And that’s all it takes for you to cum around his fingers while they work you through your climax so beautifully. You cry out his name, your eyes snapped shut as you experience one of the best orgasms you’ve had in a long time. 
“Holy shit,” you pant, trying your best to catch your breath as you come down. 
You whimper at the loss of him as he slides his fingers out of you, both hands come up to your torso as he kisses you passionately, deeply, breathlessly. 
“C’mon,” he says as he pulls away from the searing kiss, knowing that he is fully in control here. 
“Let’s get you some breakfast.”
-------------------------------
a/n: IS EVERYONE DOING OK BC WOW THE SEXUAL TENSION
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sunlightmurdock · 7 months
Text
Ashes, Ashes | Prologue | Bradley Bradshaw
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Six days after Maverick’s disappearance, Bradley isn’t quite whole anymore. But, there isn’t time to crumble.
warnings: : age gap (23/33), smut, angst, hurt / comfort, mentions of character death, mourning, extra warnings to be added chapter by chapter. This entire fic and my blog is an 18+ space, minors do not interact. Do not repost.
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“Rooster, those bandits are closing. We can’t go back.”
“Rooster, he’s gone. Maverick’s gone.”
It’s a stomach-sick, sweat inducing kind of fever that lingers now on this mild morning. Breeze blowing across his skin, patterned and rhythmic, reminding him every now and again to breathe.
It has been exactly six days since Pete Mitchell was declared missing in action. Six days since a missile meant for Bradley hit Pete’s plane and sent the sixty-five million dollar aircraft spiraling into miles and miles of desolate, freezing forest. Bradley has slept four times in those six days, and each time he has, his subconscious reminds him of exactly what he is responsible for
Today is a relatively chilly morning in May, and Bradley is sitting on the front step of a cottage near Bird Rock in northern San Diego. Today is the first day since he got home three and a half days ago that he has left his apartment. Natasha stayed over last night. She has stayed over every night. She slept by his side, on top of his covers, just holding his hand. When he was in the shower this morning, she laid out his clothes for him. She hasn’t ever known him to be this quiet. Ever.
He hasn’t said much at all since they got back. Natasha knows that he’s picturing himself alone in that forest. Dead, or worse.
Now, she sits at his side and rubs soft circles on his shoulder over the black fabric of his t-shirt. He would do it for her, if she was the one going through this. She would be too stubborn to listen to him too. They have known each other since flight school. Natasha got so drunk the first Friday that Bradley spent his entire first Friday holding her hair back while she threw up.
The next day, Bradley embarrassed himself so badly in front of a girl he liked that he almost quit just so that they wouldn't have to see each other again. After that, they have remained pretty close. Especially now, when they need each other.
“Rooster, no one expects you to be here right now — you went through something awful out there.” She says it one last time anyway, even though she knows that it won’t change a single thing.
That’s one of the reasons that their friendship is so strong — sometimes a person just has to do what they have to do, Bradley and Natasha respect that sentiment. Even if it means texting back a no-good ex, or staying out a little too late on a work night now and again. Each other’s best interests are always at heart, but it’s human to not put yourself first now and again.
Bradley hasn’t sat on the steps of Maverick’s two bedroom beach cottage since he was thirteen. Right before Maverick pissed off an admiral and got shipped out somewhere crazy, somewhere cold — he can’t remember exactly where anymore, he never wrote a letter there. Right before he started only seeing Maverick on holidays and special occasions, the occasional baseball game.
Pete bought this place back in the eighties. He got it for a steal. A craftsman bungalow three blocks from the beach, with two bedrooms and a small yard. He had wanted to be close to Carole, and he had just gotten married. Bradley’s memories of Charlie are faint, but he knows that her father helped Pete with the down payment. Maverick hated him for that. His first and, as it happened, only marriage hadn’t lasted very long. Two or three years, maximum. She was gone before Bradley finished second grade, anyway.
The spare room here used to be Bradley’s. Back when his mom worked weekends at a hotel in La Jolla, and he and Pete would take Friday night trips to Blockbuster every week. He hasn’t even been inside yet. He can’t imagine how much the interior would have changed since those weekends back in the nineties.
Glancing down at the IWC clock face on his wrist, the big hand has been creeping up on ten o’ clock for what feels like hours by now. Breeze sweeps a strand of Natasha’s hair off of her face. She leans against her best friend, her palm trailing to the middle of his back.
Natasha has two parents. They definitely don’t see eye-to-eye often, but she knows where they are. It’s a Sunday, they’ll be at Costco. She has a sister who gets on her nerves but adores her nonetheless, Leona will be at a spin class this morning. None of the people she loves are missing. If one of them were, she would have others to lean on.
For Bradley, it’s just her now.
“I can’t let her turn up to an empty house.” Bradley’s voice comes out more hoarse than either of them is expecting it to. He hasn’t cried yet. He keeps thinking he might, the urge is there, but the tears just don’t come.
Bradley doesn’t even know you. Not really. Not even when he was a kid. It’s been sixteen years since Bradley was even on speaking terms with Maverick. But now, everything’s different. He has a debt that he’ll never repay.
It has been six days. If Maverick survived the initial hit, and the ejection, then he has still been out in the snow for six days. Probably injured. Alone. Being hunted. He’s gone. And yet, Bradley just can’t — or won’t — grieve him. Moving on isn’t an option.
The person that they are waiting for is yourself. Pete Mitchell’s only child. Bradley doesn’t even know who he’s looking for. The last time he saw you was when you were three years old, staring at him from the backseat of your mother’s blue ford escort with a pacifier in your mouth while your parents argued a few feet away.
Penny Benjamin is the one that contacted you after the initial Navy correspondence. Bradley wouldn’t have even known how. He doesn’t have Maverick’s number any more, much less yours. Back when he knew you, you didn’t even know your numbers. Really he only saw you a handful of times. You hadn’t crossed paths much. Your mother lived up near Oregon. She was a waitress. Most of the time Pete drove up to see you, or the weekends that you visited him, Bradley would stay with a neighbour.
He bows his head just slightly, elbows rested on his parted knees. Maybe he shouldn’t have worn sweats. He hasn’t ever let Natasha dress him before. Today wasn’t a good day to start. Meeting Mav’s kid wouldn’t be a formal occasion, but under the circumstances.
His ears perk up at the sound of a misfire. Natasha flinches against him. She’s not been feeling that great since they got home either. Her dreams are like his too. It doesn’t matter. The car squeals around the corner at the far end of the street like its driver is trying to get it onto just two wheels. He lifts his head in time to see a steel blue ford escort hit the curb on the street just past Maverick’s property line.
Instantly, he pushes himself onto his feet. That kind of maniacal attitude to manning a vehicle must be hereditary.
Both he and Natasha watch as the driver slams their fists into the wheel in frustration. Then, you, the driver, notice them for the first time.
You’ve seen Bradley Bradshaw periodically throughout your life. There is no escaping his image when Maverick’s around. But, none of those photos are recent. They’re all from at least twelve years ago now. The only information you had been given was that Bradley looked kind of like Goose now.
And you — are not a little kid anymore. Natasha pushes herself to her feet, brushing the dust from her palms onto her jeans. A brief look is sent towards her best friend, but he doesn’t reciprocate. He’s staring straight ahead as you twist open the door handle and kick.
It complies with a groan and you start off with one foot on the pavement. High top black converse. The other foot follows next. Jeans. Normal, appropriate for the early May weather before the heat really picks up.
Then, as you push yourself to stand, Bradley can see the rest of you. You exhale and your hand flies to the back of your neck instantly.
“Hi,” You force out. “Bradley, right?”
That’s stupid. You know who he is. He knows who you are. You both know why you’re here. Natasha watches as you cringe into yourself, not necessarily physically, but it’s plastered all over your worried little face anyway.
“Yeah.” Bradley agrees without a nod. His hands are neither in his pockets nor doing anything else that might be productive. He tells himself that he should maybe shake your hand, but he doesn’t. He tells himself that maybe he should say something more, but he doesn’t.
Towering over the pretty brunette at his side, Bradley doesn’t look anything like he had in his photos at high school graduation. His face is longer and wider at the same time, his cheeks have lost some of their roundness but they still have a youthful pink flush. His hair is shorter, auburn and tidy around the back and sides. Still trying to be curly on top.
He grew up near the beach and his skin tells the tale. Freckles and a golden glow to his skin that you just know is an all year round kind of thing by now. Slight redness across his collarbones, the high points of his body where the sun hits most when he’s drying off after a swim.
In his eyes, you were hoping to find the boy from the pictures. The grinning blond in the baseball uniform. Instead, there’s something else.
Whatever it is, you hope it isn’t pity. Just because his dad — no, you shouldn’t think that. It shouldn’t start out like this.
“How was the drive? — Not too bad, I hope?” The tiny brunette finally bursts through the wall of silence that you and Bradley have been competitively building up since your sneaker touched the pavement two minutes ago. “I’m Natasha. I work with… — I — I’m Bradley’s friend.”
“Hi. It wasn’t too bad. I need to see a mechanic while I’m here, but — I don’t know. I’ll find time.” Just from watching you, Natasha can see that you’re all over the place. Neither here nor there. You don’t look like you’ve been crying either. Mascara intact, your makeup looks pretty.
Bradley knows that it has been a long time since he and Maverick were on speaking terms. He knows that even before that, they didn’t talk much about you. But, shit — he wishes now that he had at least seen a picture first so that he could prepare himself.
He remembers footie pajamas and drool and chubby, perpetually sticky cheeks.
Now, the belt looped through your blue jeans makes sure that the denim hugs you in all of the right places and that tank top is confirming to him that you’re no longer anything like the faint image he has in some of his oldest memories.
There’s got to be something wrong with him — that that’s the first thing that sprung to his mind. That Mav’s kid got hot in the twenty years since he saw her last. He shakes it from his head. Physically. He shakes his head and finally springs into action.
“What’s the matter with it?”
For the first time in five days, it’s the first time that someone hasn’t started a conversation by asking how you’re holding up. It catches you totally unprepared, and your knowledge of cars leaves you under qualified to answer anyway.
Bradley Bradshaw takes three long strides along the stone garden path and he has reached you already. He’s on a course right for you, and he’s big when he’s not squished into one of those photo frames in Maverick��s house. You lean back slightly, starting to brace for the impact of him hitting you.
He’s aware of his size and has learned to grow careful with it, stepping around you narrowly and heading straight for your old shitbox of a car.
“I don’t know. The steering is loose and the engine is making a weird noise.”
Bradley twists his neck and shoots an incredulous look at you, back over one of his wide shoulders. It’s a fourteen hour drive down from the Oregon coast, on a good day, and this car ran like shit when your mother bought it twenty something years ago.
Popping the hood, Bradley finds himself thinking of something other than those snowy peaks for the first time all week.
Ahead of you, you’re confronted with Mav’s place. The cottage you were forced to spend the occasional weekend or weeks in during the summer a couple of times through your childhood. Most of the times that you saw Pete were in your hometown. He was always the one who travelled. It seemed fair. His job meant that it didn’t happen often.
Your memories of this house are faint, but the same uncomfortable restless feeling it gives you remains. You remember quiet days sitting on the couch with your hands in your lap, waiting for that court-mandated forty-eight hours to be up.
Natasha is facing the other way. She watches Bradley step off of the curb and pop your hood. Bradley has a technical knowledge of engineering from his career, and a slightly broader scope from his interest in vintage cars — but he’s not a mechanic.
A quick glance to her right and she takes note of the way you’re frowning at the weeds poking through the stone path pavers.
Like watching a storm roll in before a big surf, Natasha has a bad feeling about this arrangement. Two people who should be coming to terms with their grief, and it's clear to her that you’re both planning on ignoring this problem by busying yourself for as long as you can.
“You can’t drive this piece of shit.” Bradley decides from the street. You turn slowly on the balls of your feet and push your hands into the pockets of your jeans. He doesn’t even look up.
Crowding over the hood of your car, glaring down at it. Thick shoulders filling out a plain black t-shirt and long legs hidden under loose fitting grey sweats. An auburn curl dangles over his forehead.
You twist and shoot a look back at Natasha.
“I… Kinda have to.” You point out. A recent graduate with no immediate career plans, who just quit their waitressing job to pick up the pieces of their presumably dead, semi-estranged father’s life. Buying a new car isn’t exactly in the budget right now.
Bradley opens his palms and braces them against the open hood. He turns his head and looks first at Natasha. His best friend. Then, the house. He learned to ride his bike on this street. Maverick lived on this street. Finally, his attention turns to you. He watches you watch him.
Leaning against your shitty, old car like it’s the only thing keeping him on his feet. Squinting at you because he left his sunglasses in work and the doctors won’t let him go back there for another couple weeks.
You’re staring back at him, wondering why he’s looking at you like that. Like he’s looking for something.
He pushes off of the car and stands, wiping his hands on his sweats. “I’ll take care of it. Whatever you need. I can drive you for a bit.”
As Bradley walks around to the back of the car and pops open the trunk to grab your bags, Natasha is struck with a numbing realization.
Maverick put himself in an early grave trying to make up for a mistake he made when he was young, and Bradley won’t stop until he does the same.
Tags: @ahoyyharrington @diorrfairy @just-a-harmless-potato @hangmanshoney @sgt-barnesveins @shanimallina87 @nykie-love-anime @lilyevanswhore @sammyrenae68 @moonlight-addisyn @pulisvertz @cherrycola27 @chxosunbound @tayygriffith @yuckosworld @callsign-magnolia @trickphotography2 @katieshook02 @atarmychick007 @sushiwriterhere @books-for-summer @thelonelyumbrella @angelbabyange @iwontshutuptilltheyaddgeckoemoji @stillreadingfantasy @casualhilarity @s-u-t @topguncortez @sweetwhispersofchaos @aaprilshowers @shadeds-library @bradswolfe @wishingwell-2 @roostersgirlfrxend @itsmytimetoodream
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melrodrigo · 11 months
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Hey Angel - Tardy Drabble
Tara Carpenter x F!Reader
Summary: You throw a welcome party for the whole university, where you meet a certain someone in an angel costume. Things happen.
Warnings: Underage drinking, parties, fluffy stuff
Word Count: 1.5k (yes this was supposed to be a drabble)
A/N: I wrote this while listening to hey angel, one direction rocks man. The start is a little iffy, but it gets better. This is set before the first chapter btw!
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“YN! YN! YN!” The crowd roars your name, cheering you on as you eagerly chug the rest of the beer.
Once you finish the 10 bottles they had filled the keg with, you let go of the tube and raise your hands in victory.
You let out an unintelligible sound, and the adrenaline that rushes through you at the sound of people still cheering your name is like nothing you’ve ever felt before.
You’d arrived to the party, your party, fashionably late. But once you stepped foot downstairs your friends were already ushering you to to the kitchen and challenging you to a drinking game.
That was how you ended up here, damn you and your competitive streak.
But the consequences of your actions had caught up quick, because not 10 minutes later you’re starting to feel a little queasy.
“Um…guys, I’m going to go sit down for a while.” You say to no one in particular, and try to make your way through the sea of teenagers to sit down on your couch.
You feel a little bump at your side.
“Woah- sorry about that.” A girl’s voice squeaks from underneath you. You blink, looking down and realizing that she had probably ran into you. Or you into her, probably the latter.
She was an angel, wait no- she was wearing an angel costume. White feathery wings extended from both sides, and a halo placed on her head.
She was so pretty. Like, so so pretty. What other adjectives are there to describe pretty people again?
“Uh, are you okay?” The girl asks again, and you realize you must’ve been staring at her a little too long.
You try and smile, but the queasiness mixed with the oncoming headache you know is about to hit makes you grimace.
“Sorry. Really….drumk.” You manage, and watch as a small smile makes its way to her face.
She touches your arm gently, and it sends a spike of energy through you.
“Do you wanna go sit somewhere? I have an amazing cure for hangovers.”
Hangover…yeah that might just be what you were having. How did you already have one?
You nod, happily.
She grabs your wrist and leads you to your original destination, the couch.
“Your hand is so soft.” You mumble on the way there, not meaning for her to hear. She perks up, and looks back at you for a moment.
“Thanks?”
You nod seriously, “Soft hands are a major thing. It’s the highest of compliments, I love hands man.”
The girl chuckles, shaking her head slightly.
She sits you down onto the couch, tells you she’ll be right back. When she returns, it’s with a different variety of things in her arms. Bananas, a couple of slices of pizza, a full loaf of bread, and a mint.
You’re struck with the realization that you don’t even know this girls name, and that you should probably ask her if you ever want to see her again.
“My name’s YN, and you m’lady?” You slur, trying your best to put on your smoldering face. You extend your hand to hers, waiting for her to reciprocate the handshake.
She laughs in your face, and you frown.
“A handshake?”
“My mom says when we meet someone new we should always offer them a handshake. It’s good manners.” You say, matter of fact-ly.
She giggles, and nods slightly, indicating she’s listening to you. Then shoves the burger and bread into your hands.
“Eat them. Just trust me.”
It might be the alcohol in your system, or the fact that she’s the prettiest girl you’ve ever laid your eyes on, but you heed her orders immediately.
You’re not really sure how to eat the bread, and she seems to realize your struggle. She smiles sheepishly, and runs over to grab a knife and slices you a couple pieces.
When you finish munching on those, she grabs an advil out her back pocket and extends them to you. You take it happily, wanting to get rid of the headache that’s terrorizing you.
She pops the mint in her mouth as she watches you eat, admiring the sight in front of her.
When you start feeling a little better, you turn to her and say, “That’s all you got?”
She raises an eyebrow, amused.
“If that’s what your magic hangover cure is, I can tell you that’s the most basic set of hangover foods ever.” You continue, tone playful.
“Oh yeah? I’d like to see you try better.” She taunts, kicking her feet up to rest them on the table in front of you.
You grin, send her a wink.
“Next time you get drunk, hit me up. I’ll work wonders in under 5 minutes.”
She purses her lips, pretending to think before nodding.
“Okay. You have a deal.”
You guys sit in comfortable silence for a few minutes, watching the party. It’s weird that you feel so relaxed in her presence already, seeing to the fact that it usually takes forever for you to open up to someone.
She looks so good under the party lights, you get the intense urge to kiss her. You decide, fuck it, what’s the harm in trying?
“Hey mystery girl? Can I kiss you?” You shout over the loud music, hoping she can hear you.
You know she does, by the way her eyebrows raise up. She stares at you for longer than you’re comfortable with, and you take that as an answer.
“Okay, that’s- that’s fine. You just look really pretty is all.” You say, somewhat nervous but still flashing a toothy grin at her.
“You know what-“ She starts, moving so that she’s side by side with you. Your eyes widen a bit, obviously taken back that your pickup line actually sort of worked.
When she leans in, your eyes are so wide it’s comical. But once again, your bad luck cuts in, and her phone starts ringing. She jumps a little, seemingly startled by the sound.
You peer at her phone and see the name ‘Sam’ appear.
“Shit.” She mutters, quickly declining and slapping her hand to her forehead.
You frown, could that be her girlfriend?
“Hey I’m really sorry YN, but I gotta go deal with something, i’ll see you around?” She hurries out, already getting up and looking like she’s ready to dart.
You’re stuck in a daze, and way too drunk to remind her that you guys didn’t have any contact. Therefore, it would be extremely hard to ‘see her around’, but you can’t bring yourself to speak.
She leaves your rear of view, and you groan, falling back into the couch.
“Stupid!“ You whisper to yourself, eyebrows furrowed.
It’s not very much fun to watch the party anymore, not without mystery angel at your side. So you decide to call it a night, and walk up the stairs to your room.
You shoo away the couple making out, whining and complaining that they can’t keep it in their pants.
The moment your face hits your pillow, you let out a sigh of relief. It doesn’t take very long for you to fall asleep, mystery girl still fresh in your mind.
You don’t bother to get up when you hear a fight starting downstairs, sure that you’re roommates would be able to take care of it and drift off.
______
Ring. Ring. Ringgg.
You groan loudly, damn alarms having to wake you up from the best sleep you’ve had in ages. You reach over to silence it but catch sight of a calendar notification at the bottom of your phone.
Eng lit test, 8.00 am
You glance up at the time display, only to find out it’s 9.30 and you’re already extremely late to your first exam of the semester.
“Holy shit!” You yell, and shoot up out of your bed. You get dressed in record time, grabbing at anything that’s clean. You swipe a piece of bread that was lying around and sprint out your front door.
You don’t know why it takes you so long to notice that you don’t have a headache, which is strange because you always end up with one after getting shit-faced.
“Guess it’s my lucky day.” You mumble, now in front of the hall room door where you’re having your exam. Wiping your hands on your shirt to try and relieve some of the nervousness, you push open the doors.
In your hurry, you forget that your shoes are untied, and somehow trip over the laces, stumbling into class like a wild animal.
Eyes burn into your head immediately, everyone turning to look at the commotion. You try and smile, signal everyone to look away.
A giggle sounds from somewhere at the back, near where you are.
You lock eyes with the perpetrator, and are struck with someone who looks somehow familiar and not familiar at all.
“Take a seat please YN.” The teacher from across the room booms.
You nod eagerly, and move towards said girl.
When you sit down next to her, still eyeing her, it’s like déjà vu.
Déjà vu for what you can’t seem to remember. You shrug the feeling away, thinking if you ever saw a girl this pretty, you would’ve remembered her right away.
Oh well, you’ll figure it out later. Right now you have a test to ace.
821 notes · View notes
sugarpea12345 · 6 months
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Remember My Name (Short story inspired by Saintobio)
Hello! This is a little thing I wrote inspired by @saintobio's work. This is directly inspired by they're sincerely yours and sincerely not .
To read and understand this, you must be caught up with sincerely not 's latest chapter (Chapter 8). I would consider this an AU, as I don't know what will happen in the next story. @saintobio 's is heart wrenching, so I had to write my own mini happy ending. Once they update, this whole thing probably won't make much sense lol.
I have received permission from @saintobio to post this
Again, this is directly inspired by @saintobio's work: Sincerely Yours and Sincerely Not.
Word count: 11.8 k
trigger warning: mentions of suicide, mentions of self harm, mentions of cheating, curse words used, angst
_____________________________________________________________
It had been a year since the coparenting arrangement. 
Via emails and business calls, you would arrange weekly pick up times. It was strictly professional. The way you wanted it. Right?
Wrong
You knew that you were being selfish. Maybe you always were. Everyone was right. Sera, Eula, Getou, Satoru’s mom, and Satoru. You were a black hole. You pulled people into your problems and destroyed them. You spent so much of your life fighting to be half the woman your mom was. And you could never be. You knew this now
“Mama!”
Bending down, you opened your arms. Hugging him tightly, you thanked the chauffeur for picking him up from school.
“Hi baby! How’s my little star?”
“Good! School finished early?” It was a statement, but you knew he was asking. Why did you take him out of school early? You really didn’t know. This whole day had felt strange. The air felt heavier. Your fingers felt numb. Something was going to happen and you didn’t want to be alone for it.
“What? My star prefers to be with teachers than with me? You’re making mommy sad!” You playfully nuzzled your head against his cheek and dramatically pouted. 
“I’ll never let you go to school again! Ha HA HA” You laughed evilly as you stood up and spun him
“Nooo!” He screamed between laughing.
After a good second of smiles and laughter, you finally set him down.
“Baby, I took you out of school because I wanted to spend time with you. Mommy is being selfish, so I won’t do this again. School is very important, ok?”
“Hmm… but mommy isn’t selfish. She’s a good mommy!”
You almost burst out in tears. He was too young to see how awful you were. His innocence and love for you blinded him. He would someday see you for the monster you are.
Allowing silence to fill the room, you stared into his eyes. God, those eyes. Your whole world could be found in them. Ruffling his hair, you grabbed the nearby scarf and wrapped it around him. Like any kid he grumbled at the added layers.
“Let’s go get ice cream and have fun today. Ok, baby?”
“Ice Cream! I love ice cream! My friend always, they always like laugh at me but not like mean laughing. But they say it’s so weird to eat ice cream when its winter. They think it’s funny. I think it’s funny too! Is snow different from ice cream? Because there’s like all this ice cream on the floor because it’s all snow. I just grab some sometimes and it doesn’t taste the same!”
As he got older, he has gotten a lot more talkative. He spoke incoherently and in run on sentences, but you understood him, nonetheless. You listened attentively when he would spend 30 minutes telling you about a funny thing his friend said. You listened when he would explain his entire school day the entire dinner. You listened the whole time.
“Yes baby, ice cream is yummy! I’m glad you and your friends laugh a lot. And no baby, snow is not the same as ice cream. Snow is made from the water on the earther getting colder, becoming clouds, and falling down. Remember I was teaching you about the water cycle? Ice cream is made from milk!”
At the mention of the water cycle, Sachiro excitedly launched into another spiel. He talked about the cycle, reexplaining it to you. He talked about how his teacher says he’s smart and how he got a toy. He talked about how his friends always ask him for help. He talked all the way to the ice cream parlor. As soon as you two ordered your ice cream, you settled down. Listening to him talk about his dreams. You always set your phone on Do Not Disturb whenever you are with him. He loved attention. If for one second you were to look away, he would immediately deflate. He was a carbon copy of his father. Sometimes you contemplated getting rid of your phone for this reason.
You spent the rest of the day chasing him through the park: pretending to be a dragon he fought, teaching him how to do cartwheels, looking for bugs. You took as many pictures as you could. Filming his smile, his voice, his eyes. 
The day came to an end, and you carried him on your back to the apartment you were staying in. 
After showering him and singing him a song, you finally took your phone off of DND.
Immediately, you were bombarded with millions of messages from everyone. 20 missed calls from Gen. 11 from Ian. 6 from your dad. 120+ text messages in total. 1 from Gojo.
Was everything ok? Please don’t let something be bad. Please. Please everyone be safe.  You heart beat increased. You were immediately transported to when you received news of Satoru’s accident. When the world learned about you running out of your wedding. When Satoru’s affair came out to the world. When you first got the calls of your mother’s sickness...
No. I can’t be selfish right now. If something happened, I have to be strong. Swallowing your fears, you opened the message you thought was the most important right now
Satoru: I’m sorry
No no no. He can’t do this again. He can’t! No please God no… You were almost about to call him, when you received another message from Gen. She was incessantly messaging you. Accidentally clicking on it, you read her last message
Gen: Please answer. Are you ok?
Now you were confused. Why was she asking if you were ok? You weren’t the victim. Doing some simple sleuthing, you looked at all the previous messages. Your eyes widened. You heart stopped. Tears filled your eyes. Looking over at Sachi, you took in a shaky breath. You had to be strong. Or at least strong enough to leave the room before you broke down. You had to do this for him. Stop being selfish Y/N
Shakily you walked out of his room. Looking back to make sure he was asleep; you closed the door gently. Before falling to your knees and letting all the tears fall. They pooled in the floor. You made sure to be quiet, but you were inconsolable. You hugged yourself tightly. You were being selfish right now. You knew that. But you were alone, and it was dark. It was ok to be selfish right now. Your heart was racing as you consoled yourself.
After half an hour of crying on the floor. You took a deep breath in and stood up. You went to the bathroom and stared at yourself.
“You need to stop being such a selfish monster, Y/N. You can’t keep ruining people. You can’t always be the victim. You need to make amends for everything you’ve done.”
You started your nightly ritual. Tears would occasionally mix in with cleanser or the water, but you didn’t stop. You had to be normal. You had to be happy. You owed everyone that. Sometimes it felt like you were caged behind your smile. Your joy had become a prison: a way to pay off all the bad things you’ve done.
Settling in bed, you grabbed your phone and responded to almost everyone. Finally, you reached Satoru’s message. 
Y/N: No worries! Congratulations! I expect an invitation lol :)
Satoru proposed to Akemi.
(Flash back to a year ago)
After that New York trip, you hated everyone. You hated your dad for pushing you into this marriage. You hated Getou for helping Satoru cheat on you during your marriage, but not understand why you wouldn’t want a baby with Satoru. You hated Satoru’s mom for projecting her self-loathing onto you. You hated your mom for dying. 
Above all else, you hated Satoru for what he did to you. He blamed you for a marriage he agreed to. He gaslit you into staying, knowing your selfless nature would do anything for his forgiveness. Even if that meant being a wife to a man in love. You hated him for taking you to the Bora Bora trip. You hated him for choosing your only friend to date. You hated that you had to go through months of emotional neglect and abuse for him to be kind. Just for Akemi to get it immediately. You hated that he became a better person only after using you. You hated him. You HATED him.
A spiteful part of your heart almost laughed. You were right! All the reasons he loved you, he found in her. You saw all the pictures he had of her. You saw the way he would caress her fingers. You saw him waiting for her. He never loved you! You were just convenient. And that’s why he loved her! Because she was convenient. Had you never sent her to meet him, they wouldn’t have fallen in love. If anything, he would be dating the nurse! Gojo Satoru doesn’t love. He just clings on to what’s closest. 
You spent a month marinating in these thoughts. In the week where you didn’t have Sachiro, you wouldn’t leave the office. You had begun sleeping there. You lost weight. Your face was pale. You were a walking corpse. You got assistants to pick up and drop off Sachiro. You never spoke to Satoru. 
This was to be your life now. After spending three days in the basement of the office creating, cutting, and sowing, Nobara finally convinced you to leave.
“Seriously Y/N, this is the 4th time I’ve had to get you gauze instead of bandages. I know you’re hurt, and I know you’re trying to distract yourself. But this is getting dangerous. Not only for you but for the clothes! We can’t sell anything if it has your blood all over it!” She tried to joke at the end
 As you finished wrapping the gauze around your forearm, you pitifully looked at her. She was so young and innovative. Despite being an intern, you had already set aside a permanent spot in the company for her. Stop burdening her with your problems.
Blinking away your sorrowful expression, you laughed. “Guess I gotta wrap myself in gauze and bandages before getting to work right?”
“Or you could just take a break. Jeez, I never thought workaholic millionaires existed.”
Ruffling her head as you walked towards her. “Thank you for waiting for me. You really didn’t have to. I promise, I won’t take advantage of your kindness. Go ahead and go home, I’ll lock up.”
Stunned, she took a second to respond. Your eyes were different right now. They were vulnerable and sad, but they were so kind at the same time.
“It’s no problem! Really! Thank you Y/N. Let’s work hard together.” Bowing, she made her way out of the store. Maybe you were going to get better?
After cleaning up, you placed the small stuffed bear you were working on in your small bag. Locking the store behind you, you headed towards your apartment. You had made the choice to move out. You were so filled with anger all the time. It would kill you if you were to accidentally lash out against the people you treasured. It was a tough conversation, but you needed space. 
As you walked, you decided last minute to head into a craft store. You needed a simple heart locket. Then you could gift the toy to your son.
With only one mission and energy drinks fueling you, you almost didn’t notice them. It wasn’t until you heard your son’s gleeful laughter did you perk up. Peering through the aisles, you saw him. No, you saw them. They both held your son’s hands as they looked at the toys. Letting go only when he would rush over to the loudest or brightest thing. Finally, he settled on a small plush. It had no lights and didn’t make any noise. They encouraged him to get something more expensive. Something flashier. But he didn’t. He wanted the light pink bunny. 
“It makes me think of mama!”
You saw Satoru and Akemi falter. It seemed that even the mention of your name silenced them. Your heart was beating so loud, you were sure they could hear it too. Leaning down Satoru ruffled his head. 
“Aren’t you a sweet little munchkin! Oh, but look at this!” 
You heart almost stopped. You saw Satoru redirect Satchiro’s attention to a cooler, bigger toy. As any kid would, he dropped the stuffed bunny and ran towards the huge toy. Gojo and Akemi exchanged relieved expressions. After purchasing the toy, they headed out. 
Walking into the aisle, you picked the bunny up. Holding it, you inspected its simplicity. Looking at the face, you realized why the bunny reminded him of you. The bunny had little tear dops in its eyes. Rushing to the cashier, you bought the bunny and the heart locket. It appears that you rushed too fast, as by the time you exited the store, they were still there. 
Sachiro, the spoiled child he was, was throwing a tantrum at having to be put in the car seat. As if he could detect your presence, Satoru immediately looked up. He saw you holding the bunny toy. His eyes filled with guilt and embarrassment. He knew that you were going to be upset. Of course you were. You were always angry at something. Nonetheless, he called you over. You were still the mother of his child.
After seeing the domestic moment in the store, you wanted to go up to them and give them a piece of your mind. You wanted to yell at them at the very least. But no, you walked over to them. Refusing to look up. 
At the mention of your name Sachiro perked up. Although he was already strapped into the seat, he did his best to peek out of the car door.
“Hi Y/N”. the tension was palpable. Choosing to ignore him, you approached Sachiro.
“Hi my little star! How are you? Did you have fun today?”
“Hi mommy! I missed you! Wanna go home! We did a lot of stuff-hmm mommy what are you holding?”
Remembering you were holding the bunny, you quickly hid it behind you back. “Just work stuff baby. I’m happy to hear you had fun! Mommy has to go, but I’ll see you this Sunday, ok baby?”
Giving him a big kiss, you did your best to hug him and said goodbye. 
Without looking up, you thanked Gojo and Akemi and began walking away. As soon as you got home, you set the plush down and pulled out your own. They both looked so ugly in your bandaged hands. Gently setting down the plush bunny, you tightly held onto the bear’s neck. Slowly, the pressure increased, and you were chocking the bear as tears streamed down your face. It was so ugly. This ugly bear in your ugly hands in your ugly home. Everything was so ugly. 
A beep from your phone broke you from this trance. It was from Satoru. 
Satoru: Hey
Satoru: Just wanted to let you know that we meant no harm in not getting him the bunny.
Then why? Why not get him that stupid toy! Sachiro is my kid! I am his mom! If he wanted that toy, then you should have gotten it! You almost wrote everything you thought. But no- no you were wrong. Sachiro wasn’t yours. Satoru had every right to get his son whatever he wanted. You kept Sachiro away from him for three years. You were the bad guy. 
Trembling you came to the realization. Rushing to the bathroom, you stripped yourself of all the clothes and the bandages. You looked at yourself in the mirror. You almost barfed. You were a monster. You were disgusting. Disfigured. Non-human.
Is this how Satoru felt?
The worst part of you were your eyes. They were so dead. Did you always look like this? How could anyone even stand to look at you? You were vile.
You had change. You spiraled into an abyss of anger and resentment. You lost yourself. Where was the sweet girl you once were. Growing a backbone didn’t mean you had to change. After a quick shower filled with tears, you got dressed and headed into the spare room. You spent the rest of the night making a light blue bunny. Unlike the store bought one, this one was smiling. It was happy. Sowing the heart locket onto the chest, you put in a small image of you and Sachiro. 
You had to be better. You had to be kind.
Grabbing the phone, you replied.
Y/N: Thank you for reaching out, but really, I didn’t mind! 
Y/N: Good night!
The next day, you didn’t go to work. Instead, you were at a café, waiting for someone to show up. You felt awful, but you knew this was the best thing to do. You had to be kind. Even if that meant being a villain. If being evil is the price you pay, then you will gladly pay it. Even more people would hate you. Everyone would. But you knew what you were doing was good. You had to be good. 
As soon as he walked in, you knew that he knew. His furrowed brow and tight jaw made it obvious that he was upset. And he had every right to be. Any anger and hate he harbored for you, you would accept.
“Toji, here’s your coffee. I’m so incredibly sorry for calling you at the last minute. I appreciate the time you took out of your day to meet with me”
He didn’t even sit down. He didn’t take the coffee.
Its now or never. Getting on your knees, you placed your hands on the floor and bowed. Your forehead was almost touching the floor. 
“Thank you for being there for me. Thank you for being a shoulder to lean on. Thank you for letting me join your family. Thank you for everything Toji. And I am so sorry for not giving you an ounce of it back. I am a selfish monster. I took everything you gave me and more. I was never a good fiancé. I wasn’t even a good friend. I took advantage of your loneliness. I will never forget the time we had together. But I ask you to forget about me. You deserve a more honest person. A person who can give you everything you deserve and more.”
People were looking and many taking pictures. Noticing this, he grabbed you by your arm, and headed out of the café. His grip was strong; it was sure to leave a bruise in your forearm, he nearly threw you into the passenger side of the car, slamming the door. He walked over to his side and began driving. The car was silent. You took refuge in it. You knew what he was going to ask. And you had to lie. You had to make him hate you. 
Soon enough, he parked in a desolate park. He refused to look at you. You didn’t want to look at him either, but you did. You had to. 
After minutes of harrowing silence, he finally spoke in a low voice
“Did you sleep with him?”
You knew he was going to ask this. A tear slid down your cheek. Your hands had begun to bleed as you kept them in closed fists.
“Yes”
He still didn’t look at you.
“Bullshit. You forget that I can see through your lies. I know why you’re doing this. You love him. You never stopped. Even after all the shit he put you through you still want him. Why now? Three years and I wasn’t enough for you. I defend you; I support you... all for what? For you to run back to your abuser. Every time I think your mine, you disrespect me. You humiliate me. You’re doing to me what that fucker did to you.”
“…Yes. I am. That’s why you have to leave me Toji. I can’t stand my reflection. I am so selfish-”
“Shut up. Don’t play the ‘pity me’ card. God, you really are something. The forever victim.”
You stayed quiet. In a perfect world, you would defend yourself. You would tell him that you aren’t trying to be the victim. You never were! You see that now. 
“You’re right.”
“All those fucking articles were right about you. I spent so much time, so much energy telling you they were lies. Turns out strangers know you better than I do. You are a two-timing bitch. You are selfish. You’re insatiable. Why couldn’t I have been enough for you. How the hell was I competing with the man who never loved you? And losing! You deserve nothing, you know that… You never left that room, did you?”
“W-what room?”
“That hospital room. Sure, you’re older now. You’ve been to a million places. But mentally? Mentally, you’re still in that hospital room. There is no cure for your loneliness. Face it Y/N, the problem has and always will be you. If you want to die next to your mom, be my guest. But you need to leave that room Y/N. If not for you, for your kid.”
He stayed quiet. It was your turn to speak. He didn’t want to hear you, but his patient nature told him to give you a chance. Not to defend yourself. But rather explain yourself.
“You’re right Toji. I think that’s why I always look for you. You always have the wisest things to say. And I know that. I’ve let the world pass me by. I have a void in my heart and its rotted me from the inside out. I’ll spend my entire life working for your forgiveness. And my lifetime might not be enough for that. You are everything to me. And that’s why I can’t let myself continue to poison you. I’ve changed you for the worst.”
You two sat in silence. You could hear his uneven breath. Reaching out you put hand on his shoulder. For the first time he turned to look at you. And there he saw it. Your eyes. 
Red and puffy with tears, your face for once didn’t look as haunted as usual. There was always this air of anger around you. Your shoulders were always tense. Eyebrows always furrowed. Not now. You looked younger. Instead of the anger that had clouded your eyes, he could finally see his reflection.
You didn’t look happy per se, but you looked aware. He looked at the hand on his shoulder. Even after everything he said, you were comforting him? This was the old you. The selfless to a fault Y/N. He couldn’t tell if this was a good or bad thing. 
He then noticed the mark on your forearm, already purple. In the shape of his hands. Reaching out he gently caressed the bruises, guilt settling in the pit of his stomach. You grabbed his hand and brought it to your lips. 
“Don’t worry about it. I love you Toji. Please, forget me.”
When the news broke out that you had ended your relationship, Ian did his best to remove a lot of the posts. It was hard since there were so many shots of you on the floor begging for forgiveness. If you didn’t look guilty then, now you did. Why else would you be apologizing? But you didn’t mind. Instead, you focused on removing any article that spoke badly on Toji. Especially after some pictures of you and that hand-print bruise were published. 
Fortunately, your brand had already been established. And while the coverage halted some planned promotions and runways, by the end of the month everything was normal again.
You changed your phone to a flip phone. You did your best to text Satoru about pick up times. Most often he wouldn’t respond. Instead, you would have to call Miwa. On the rare occasion that he did, you would spend the rest of the day crying. You cried so much. You couldn’t help but remember that way they both held Sachiro’s hands. The domestic life you would never provide for him. 
Often you would contemplate if you should have accepted him. Did you really love him? Or was it just easier to love him? You couldn’t trust yourself. Your mind was in ruins. You had no one. Since your change in attitude, people have become nicer to you. But you weren’t happy. And you stopped letting people get close. You even began to push away Gen and Ian. Monthly, you would meet with your dad and that was it.
Was life good? No, but it was better. You would be content if life stayed like this. But now, a year after your failed marriage, Satoru was going to prepare his own.
(Present time)
The day after receiving that message, it was published everywhere. It was the only thing articles were talking about. With the mentions of Satoru’s new marriage, you were put into the spotlight again.
The paparazzi swarmed you. Leaving your house had become difficult. They harassed you. Pushing you while demanding you answer questions. You smiled. You thanked them for their time. You would bid them farewell. It was too dangerous that you could no longer pick your son up. Not that you minded. You didn’t want to see how happy they were. Not until you were done healing at least.
You spent the weekend doing everything Sachiro wanted. Breakfast in bed? Of course. Quick trip to the local festival? Duh. Building a fort? Obviously. 
By the time Sunday night came he was so tired. All he asked was that you sing to him before his dad picked him up. Now you sat with Sachiro’s head on your lap. Normally, a bodyguard would meet you at your door and take your son downstairs as to not garner attention. 
As soon as the knock came, you gently laid his head on couch. Slowly you opened the door, expecting to see the normal guard.
“Thank- oh. Good evening, Satoru. Are you here to pick up Sachiro?”
He looked past you and saw Sachiro sleeping. Letting himself in, he sat on the couch and petted Sachi’s head. After moments of silence, he finally spoke up. 
“Yes, but I also came because I need to talk to you.”
Solemnly, you nodded. “I actually have something to say as well. I was planning to email it later, but if you’re here then we should discuss. Would you like anything?”
Satoru couldn’t help but stare at you. Just a year ago, he had buried the old you. It was his fault he knew that. If you were mean and angry, it was because he made you that way. The damage was irreparable. But here he saw her again. Or at least a glimpse of her. 
Even though he didn’t respond, you still handed him a water bottle.
“Did you want to go first?” 
“Um, yes. I just... I just wanted to apologize for not letting you know. I was planning on calling you, but I got distracted. I’m sorry you had to learn that way.”
“Silly. We all flub up sometimes. I would have appreciated knowing so that I could explain it to Sachiro. Thank you for apologizing.”
Even though you were smiling, he could tell you were sad. Your eyes were distant. It was like you had detached yourself from everyone. Somehow, he already missed that angry Y/N. At least he knew what you were thinking. Now, it felt like when you two had gotten married. How you smiled every time he yelled at you. He expected you would say the “I don’t care what you do with your life” speech and spitefully kick him out. He could sleep well knowing you hated him. But seeing your smile, it felt like he was cheating again. No. No, you asked for him to forget you. This is good. You’re getting better. But is returning to your selfless self better? That’s when you suffered the most. That’s what changed you. 
You didn’t give him much time to think as you started to speak. 
“Satoru, can I ask you for a favor?”
He knew what you were going to say. This nice act can’t last forever. This was the angry Y/N he knew. 
“Can you take care of Sachiro for a couple of months? I know it’s a lot, but I have some... business to take care of. I would take him with me, but I don’t want to separate you from him anymore than I already have.”
Oh? 
“Yeah, yeah. I’ll take care of him. I can’t believe you had to ask. He’s my son, of course I will take care of him.”
His tone had changed. He had gotten angry at the mention of the three years. You didn’t react. You just thanked him.
Gojo enjoyed his week with Sachiro and Akemi. It felt like they had a family. This is what he wanted. Sure, you were Sachiro’s real mom, but Akemi was also kind of like a mom. He noticed how well the two got along. He sought comfort in her and laughed with her. Yes. This is good. 
Yet, he couldn’t help but think about you. 
Every time Sachiro offered the first bite of his food to him. Every time Sachiro defended the annoying people at the mall. Every time Sachiro smiled, Satoru saw you. Yes, Sachiro looked exactly like him, but everything about him was you. It was all you.
His heart almost broke when he saw Sachiro singing to his stuffed animals. 
“Hey munchkin. BedTIME!” He joyfully grabbed Sachiro and swung him around the room. Instead of laughing, Sachiro began to pout. 
“No playing at bedtime dada. No”
“Oh, my bad Sachi.” He was a replica of you. 
Satoru sat on the bed as Sachiro headed to the bathroom, pulled out his step stool and began cleaning his face. After finishing his regiment, he waddled back into the room and settled himself into bed. 
“Is dada going to read me a story?”
“Can I sing to you instead munchkin?”
“Hmmm… no thank you dada.”
“Aww you’re a meanie! Um, but actually I need to talk to you about something serious.”
“Mhmm”
“You like Akemi, right? Dada likes her a lot. But it’s very important that you like her.”
“Yesh! Akemi is nice!”
He knew that this was wrong, but he had to ask. “Do you ever think Akemi could be like momma?”
Immediately tears sprouted from the boy’s eyes. He started frantically grabbing and throwing some of his toys. 
“NO! Mommy is Mommy! No one else is mommy! I hate Akemi! I hate her! I want mommy! Mommy!!”
Sachiro was screeching. Gojo was thankful that Akemi was in another room. She really did love Sachiro, and it would have broken her heart to hear him say that.
He held Sachiro close, trying to console him. “Shhh, baby. Daddy didn’t mean that ok? No one will replace mommy. Mommy is all yours.” Sachiro cried until his tears tired him out. No, I can’t tell him. Not today. Maybe Y/N should tell him instead. Sorry Y/N. I’m using your selflessness again. 
Soon enough the week ended, and he passed him back to you. Instead of showing up in person, as he did last time, he sent the bodyguards to take him. He was being cowardly, he knew. But he couldn’t risk Sachiro hating him. It’s your fault their relationship is so weak. It should only be right that it’s your job to explain everything to Sachiro. Right?
Satoru: Hey, I tried to tell him about me and Akemi. He didn’t respond very well. Could you explain it to him?
You almost rolled your eyes at the message. You were being punished. You knew that. But you responded with a simple ‘Ok’ anyway. 
Switch offs happened at night to make sure that each parent spent the majority of the day with Sachiro. You and Sachiro headed to the bathroom and completed your nightly routine all while dancing and occasionally teasing each other. This is what you lived for. Yes, you were lonely all the time. But you weren’t lonely with him. He was your reason to exist. It was going to hurt you being away from him for so long. But this would be good for everyone. This would be your last act of selflessness. This would atone for every bad thing you did.  
By the time you cleaned up all the splashed water, Sachiro was already in bed ready for his song. Instead, you sat on the floor. 
“Hey star boy, I need to talk to you. It’s going to be serious, ok?”
As soon as you finished the sentence, he burst into tears. Hugging you close he shook his head in a no motion.
“NO! I hate her! I hate her! She’s not mommy! Mommy is mommy! Mommy is my star and I’m her star! Not Akemi!”
Confused you held him tight. You cooed and brushed his snow-white hair back. “No Akemi won’t replace me baby.”
He pulled away to look up at you. “Daddy asked me! He asked me if Akemi could be mommy! I said no!”
You sighed dejectedly. This is why it didn’t go well. Your son was naturally altruistic. He would have understood and accepted had Gojo explained everything normally. But it seems that Gojo had made a selfish request. Why is it always my job to clear up Satoru’s name? Why can he be selfish and be the victim, but I can’t? No! No, I can’t think that! I’ve been selfish my whole life! Satoru is a victim. This will all be solved soon…
“My star, he didn’t mean it that way. Listen to me Sachiro. Me and you are a family, right? Me and you were also part of Toji’s family. Sometimes, when you love someone, you can add them to your family. Mommy messed up with Toji, and I’m no longer part of their family. But Satoru has someone he loves. Is it ok for her to join our family?”
You had dumped a lot of information on him. It took a second to process everything. 
“So, we aren’t family with Toji?”
“I’m not baby. But you will always be, ok. That’s how love works. They love you a lot.”
“Are you and daddy family?”
“Yes, we are. You make us a family.”
“But does mommy love daddy?”
You were stumped. This is probably why Satoru didn’t want this conversation. So, you answered honestly.
“Yes, mommy loves daddy.”
“Then why does daddy love Akemi?”
“Love is strange, baby. Sometimes you love people more. And he loves Akemi more. Is that ok?”
He took a second to think
“I guess…”
“Thank you for being so selfless Sachiro.” You stopped to think. “But if you’re ever not okay, then you have to tell someone, ok? Its ok to be selfish too.” You were just projecting, but you knew it was important for him to hear that too.
“Ok?”
“Speaking of being selfish… Mommy is going away for a couple of months.” As expected, he started bawling. He started kicking and throwing. He was loud. He was angry. He was betrayed
“NO! NO! Mommy can’t go! Mommy can’t leave me! She can’t! I’ll be a good boy I promise! I’ll eat every veggie! I won’t cry anymore! Mommy can’t leave!! It’s Akemi’s fault! Her fault! That’s why mommy cries so much! Its daddy too! Mommy never cried!”
You started crying too. All those times you thought you hid your tears he saw. He saw everything. This was the worst-case scenario. You had to leave. You couldn’t let him see you like that anymore. You had to leave that hospital room. Toji was right.
You held onto him. Even when he began to hit you. Even when he rubbed his snot over you. You waited until he calmed down, Silent tears were streaming down his face.
“Can we go back to New York mommy? I hate it here. Daddy is mean to mommy. Mommy cries all the time. Mommy is lonely and sad while Daddy is happy. It’s not ok.”
You wiped his tears away. 
“Sachiro, don’t say that. Mommy is paying the price for being bad. Daddy deserves to be happy. He loves you so so much. Please forget everything bad, Sachiro. Daddy wasn’t mean to me. If he was, I wouldn’t let you stay with him, right? Mommy isn’t lonely. She has you. Mommy will never be sad as long as Sachiro is here. You’re like my superhero! Mommy is struggling and she needs to fix some stuff so she can be a better mommy for you ok, baby? None of this is your fault. I have to go, but I promise you, this will be better for you and for me. I promise with my whole heart. The second I get everything sorted out, I’ll pick you up. This hurts me too, baby. But I need to be a better mommy for you. None of this if your fault. Don’t you ever think that. Hey, to help my little star, I have present for you.”
You stood up and presented him with a white, sleek box. It had beautiful light blue ribbon on it. He held it but refused to open it. 
“I even got myself a present so we could match!”
You pulled out your own white box. Seeing that you both had a present, he was more willing to open his. It was a phone. You had a matching one. You really didn’t want another phone, as you were content with the flip phone you already had. It made ignoring all the evil things people said about you a lot easier to manage. 
“When mommy’s gone, we can call each other all the time. I’ll respond to every text. I’ll answer every phone call. I promise. I won’t be gone for long. But I’ll text you so much you’ll wish I was.”
This garnered a small giggle from him. 
“Don’t worry baby, we have the rest of the week. We’ll do everything you want.”
He nodded glumly. He wasn’t too happy, but he felt a lot better knowing he could reach out to you. 
You slept with him. Holding him close, you did your best to treasure these moments.
When Sunday night finally came, you asked Satoru to pick him up personally. This was a big change, even if it was temporary. You wanted Sachiro to be as relaxed as possible. You and him sat on the couch. You had packed a bunch of his valuables and even some pictures so that he wouldn’t feel so lonely.  He was again on your lap, fighting to stay awake as you ran your fingers through his hair.
The serene moment was disrupted by the loud knocks coming from the door. Expecting to see Satoru you opened the door, only to see Akemi there. You did your best to keep your smile. It wasn’t that you hated her. No, she was your friend at one point to. But an evil part of you knew you could never forgive her. Not for dating Satoru, but for choosing him over your friendship. You told her everything, but because she never experienced it, she could ignore it. That is selfish.  As if you can critique others for being selfish. 
You welcome both of them. Sachiro already stood up, holding the blanket closely. He refused to look at his dad or Akemi. His eyes were already brimming with tears.
Bending down to his level, you caress his face. “It’s ok to cry, my star. But before you do, I have a gift for you.”
Reaching behind the couch, you presented him the light blue bunny you had made. His eyes widened and he squealed in joy Running to hug it he struggled opening the locket. One he did, he looked at you with the biggest smile on his face. He ran and hugged your knees. 
“Whenever you miss mommy, give that bunny a big hug, and I’ll feel it. Have fun with Daddy. You must be a good boy. Call me whenever you want, but I promise to call you every day. Mommy just needs to get some work done and then everything will be back to normal ok?”
After a couple minutes of holding each other, he finally walked over to where Satoru was. He raised his hands asking to be picked up. 
“Thank you, Satoru. Thank you, Akemi. I trust you two will take wonderful care of him.” You bowed at a 90-degree angle. 
“If you don’t mind me asking, why are you leaving?” You hadn’t spoken to Akemi in a while. For a couple months, she stayed employed with you. Yet, after your official break up with Toji, she immediately resigned. You always wondered if she thought you did it because of Satoru. 
Smiling gently you respond, “I’m sorry, I can’t say. It’s nothing crazy, I promise! I just need some time.”
“It’s not because of…”
“Goodness no! I know I haven’t been the most supportive. I’ve been downright awful. I hope both of you forgive me for how I acted. It was selfish and attention seeking. I don’t expect any special invitation, but please know that I support this relationship. I’m glad you two found each other. Truly”
Satoru almost flinched at the words you used. The guilt of you actually believing all the nasty things he said to you weighed heavy on him. He almost regretted bringing Akemi here. If she wasn’t, he would have consoled you. Even if it only would have been a hand on your shoulder. 
The worst part about hearing you subscribe to all his insults was seeing the honesty behind it. You did think you were a terrible person.
Before either of them could say anything, you started ushering them out. 
“You guys must head out now! Sachiro still needs his night routine. He has school tomorrow, and he’s already stayed up so late. If you guys feel like he’s too tired, I don’t mind if he doesn’t go. It’s your call. Thank you both for everything!”
You nearly pushed them out of the apartment. As soon as that door closed, you broke down. This was going to be one of the hardest things you’ve done. But you had to do it. 
Nearly two months have passed. Satoru relished every second he had with his son. He has never felt more like a family than he did now. Everything was perfect. 
If it weren’t for the bunny he carried everywhere. Or the fact that Sachiro couldn’t do anything without having to send his mom a text. Sending a sleepy blurry selfie was more important than getting dressed. He would facetime you every night before going to sleep. There were times where he even ignored Satoru in lieu of sending you a selfie with a filter on top of it.
Satoru heard and saw more of you now, than he did in the last year. 
Even Akemi was getting a little frustrated. 
Yet, Satoru wasn’t just frustrated. He felt guilty. Your presence at the house had become so abundant, that he would often stay in Sachiro’s room just to hear you sing. He did his best to mind his business, but in the cases where he saw the silly selfie you would send back. It would plague his mind for the rest of the day. 
From the few glimpses he got, he could tell that something was changing. You weren’t in the office, or in any modern building it seemed. You were a lot livelier. You were happier?
How could a mom be happier away from her child? He would nearly scoff out loud at the thought. Maybe this was your way of giving him full custody? No there was no way. 
The next day, after sending Sachiro to school, he headed to the office. It was a usual day. He was glad he was able to save the company. He really was going to lose all this over you? No. He loved you. And you didn’t love him. But Akemi did. And his workers needed him.
As he continued working, suddenly Miwa and Nanami both presented themselves. Miwa was always easy to read. She was skittish and nervous. Nanami, on the other hand, was harder to read, but he could tell he was a little unsure as well.  “Nanami! Miwa! What bring you in here? I reviewed my schedule already. Is there something I missed?”
Miwa cracked first. “Um... Mr. Gojo, have you been in contact with Ms. Y/N recently?”
“She calls Sachiro nearly every day. Did something happen?”
“Well, have you been in contact in the last hour?”
“Miwa may you please get to the point?”
Nervously, she looked up at Nanami. Sighing and pushing his glasses up, he handed Satoru the iPad. “None of this means anything. And if something did happen, it is not your responsibility. It’s just rather strange.”
Gojo looked over the screen. In big bold letters there it was:
Y/N STEPS DOWN FROM HEARTS COMPANY. 
Y/N SELLS OVER A MILLION IN STOCKS
HEARTES INTRODUCES NEW CEO AND CREATIVE DESIGNER
Y/N RESIGNS FROM COMPANY
Y/N’S APARTMENT UP FOR SALE?!
Gojo looked at the headlines frantically. He knew what all this was implying. Yet, he needed verification. He couldn’t fathom the thought that you would have… No there’s no way. You have Sachiro. You wouldn’t do this.
“Um... what exactly does this have to do with me Nanami?”
“It means nothing. It seems that Y/N has done some irrational choices that garnered some attention from the media. That’s all this is. Unfortunately, you know how convoluted your history is with her. Some people might assume that since she’s acting out in such an illogical and hysterical manner, that she may be going through a manic episode. A manic episode that may precede…” Nanami couldn’t finish the sentence. 
His heart was beating. No, there’s no way you could be gone. No. No. You made a promise! You promised to return for Sachiro. Right Sachiro. That’s why Gojo is feeling so bothered and anxious. He’s worried for the mother of his child, that’s all. 
“I think… I think I’ll head home. If she has been in contact with anyone, it would be my son. Thank you for letting me know.”
As he made his way to the car, he couldn’t help but speed. He needed to make sure you were ok... for the sake of Sachiro.
On the way, he received a phone call from Akemi. Normally, he would have pulled over and answered her. But not today. He drove, breaking most speed laws all the way home. He barely turned his car off as he rushed the door. Yet, as he got to the door, he found a box. It was for Sachiro Gojo. Without hesitation, he looked at the sender’s address in the corner and typed it in. It was a two-hour drive, but he didn’t care. This box didn’t prove anything. You must have sent it days ago. If you had planned to do this all at once that meant only one thing. You were planning to commit. There was no other option. With only this one mission fueling him, he unknowingly kept ignoring Akemi’s calls
After an hour and a half of driving, Gojo started to notice his surroundings. This was an older city. There were multiple shrines and elders. There were very few cars. A lot of cats.  This was weird. He continued following the GPS. He passed the city and made his way up the mountainous region. By 5 pm. He had reached an isolated house on top of the hills. The land was relatively flat once he got up there. There was an impressive house. It looked new. The house wasn’t a mansion, but it was still large. The lights in what he assumed the kitchen were on. Hesitantly, he knocked.
Soon enough someone opened the door. No, not someone, you did
There stood you. You looked younger, happier, kinder. Unlike last time, your happiness didn’t feel like a mask. It felt genuine. He couldn’t marinate in his confusion as you grabbed his hand and pulled him in. 
“Hi Gojo! I’m shocked to see you here! Come in! Let me get you a lemonade. It must have been a long drive.”
You sat him down on your couch. He couldn’t help but think about that mansion. The one where you were supposed to start and raise a family. This one was a lot cozier, with the architecture of it being rounder in a way. It felt like a cottage despite its massive size. There were a lot of plants. On the walls were framed pictures. Mostly of Sachiro. A lot were ones he’s never seen. There were a lot of selfies of you two. And hidden between all of them was that Disneyland photo. It was when he had amnesia. When he thought you were cheating. Before he knew of all your lies. That instantly ruined his mood. 
Placing a coaster, you set his drink down. He couldn’t help but notice that the coasters were made with images of Sachiro’s drawings. 
“The lemonade is rather tart since the lemons are homegrown. So, I went ahead and added a bit of sugar. But here’s some more if you like. I don’t know if you still have the same sweet tooth. So, if I put too much sugar, let me know! I’ll get you another cup!” You set down a jar with sugar. You were so talkative. The last time you spoke this much with him was when you were kids. 
He didn’t move. Noticing his discomfort, you kept talking. “I was going to call you tomorrow. But I’m glad to see you. Did you come alone?”
“Y/N, I thought you committed suicide.”
You deflated slightly. Somberly you looked around the room. With a gentle smile, you looked at him. It was like you had puppy dog eyes. He could get lost in them. It had been a year since he was attracted to you, but he couldn’t help but want to lean closer to you. To breathe your air. He stopped himself in time
“It all happened kinda fast right? I was hoping that by doing it all at once, it would be like ripping the band aid off, y’know? People are bound to talk, so instead of doing it slowly and reigniting interest in my life every couple of weeks, I thought it would be easier if I just made one big splash and let the water settle from there.”
It felt like he was in a different dimension. You spoke so casually to him. It almost felt like he was the weird one. In disbelief, he stayed quiet.
Taking a deep breath, you continued. “Honestly, I did plan to. To commit suicide, I mean.  So, I guess you weren’t completely wrong.”
He stared at you. How you casually admitted to your suicidal ideations.
“What? You can’t be the only one to be suicidal right?” You joked, hoping to ease the tension. It did the exact opposite. 
“Y/N I need you to fucking explain everything. No jokes”
Your gaze hardened. “Gojo, you do not disrespect me in my house. I have welcomed you because you are my child’s father, but I will forbid you from coming here again if you speak to me like that again.”
He remained silent but nodded. It was weird. You definitely had grown a backbone since he last saw you in your apartment. Just a couple months ago, you looked like the submissive, docile, doormat you once were. But now? Now you confident and strong without sacrificing your trusting and selfless nature. You were a perfect blend of your youth and your experience. 
“This is my way of asking for forgiveness. From everyone. I’ve done a lot of awful things. Since that New York trip, I became vindictive. I became evil. I didn’t know why. How could I be jealous that the man I encouraged to move on moved on? I was changing Satoru. I had thought that being mean and cold was a way to protect myself. But in reality, I had gotten worse. I couldn’t stand my reflection. Then, I saw you Akemi and my star at the store. You remember right? With the pink bunny? You all looked so happy. It was the life Sachiro deserved. I went home and saw myself. Really saw myself. I couldn’t recognize who that person in the mirror was. Since then, I was determined to seek forgiveness from everyone I wronged. My first thought was to kill myself. But I couldn’t. I couldn’t do that to my star. Even now, I find myself fantasizing about just jumping off that cliff… I even planted flowers there so whenever Sachiro visited, he would feel safe. But I can’t. That’s why I have all these photos and drawings of him. If I keep thinking of him, I’ll never have time to contemplate killing myself.”
Gojo couldn’t stop his eyes from watering. He almost reached out to grab your hands. He closed his hands harshly, forcing himself not to move. “But Y/N... you didn’t do anything wrong. I mean, you have done wrong. But we all have. You shouldn’t have to punish yourself for existing.”
Always and empath, you leaned forward and placed a cute octopus squishy in his hands. He quietly accepted it, showing the indents his nails made on palm “You don’t want to accidentally cut yourself. I learned that a little too late.” You laughed gently as you showed him your own palm. There were small scars in the shape of your nails. 
Holding the squishy in one hand, he used the other hand to inspect your hand. They were different. It was obvious that you still took care of your hands: soft, supple, perfect nail beds, trimmed nails. But upon further inspection, he could see multiple scars littering your fingers. His gaze drifted upwards to your forearm. There he saw some bigger scars. Some still scabbing. He could feel his own scar throb at the memory of the pain. Gojo couldn’t stop himself as some tears fell out. He couldn’t stop himself from tracing their outline.
“Why- why would you do this? You were alone the whole time? Then why? Y/N I don’t understand you? You were going to…”
He was interrupted by your melodious laughter. You pulled your hand away. “You’re too sweet Gojo. No. No these aren’t what you think they are. It’s just some office mistakes. I jumped into my work to fill that void of loneliness. But you know, it’s pretty dangerous to be handling sharp rotary cutters when you haven’t slept for days.” 
Grabbing his hand, you pulled him up. “Let’s go for a walk!”
Leading him to the back door, her couldn’t help but stare at your interlinked hands. The tips of his ears turned pink. He felt so young right now. No. No I can’t think like that. 
The back yard was like a Ghibli fantasy forest. It had plenty of lush green plants and flowers growing everywhere. In a corner there was a cute gazebo with two easels ready. One noticibly smaller than the other. There were plenty of trees a reasonable distance from the house. They provided a nice area of shade. Some grew peaches, others grew limes.  A stone path led to another corner where a sand pit was already set up. The entire perimeter was protected with a gorgeous white fence. Tall enough that Sachiro wouldn’t be possible to scale it. There was one exit. You headed there still holding Gojo’s hand. Typing in a security code, the door opened, and you headed into the forest. After a 5-minute walk, the forest cleared and presented a cliff side. Undoubtedly it was gorgeous. The ocean was beautiful. Flowers and clovers surrounded the area. 
He didn’t realize how much time had passed until he saw that the sun was setting. You let go of his hand and sat down, resting your head on your knees. You always had that curious habit of returning to a fetal position. Settling next to you, he couldn’t stop himself from looking at you. You looked ethereal. With the sun in your face, the wind in your hair. There was a gentle smile playing on your lips as you stared at the ocean. 
“Gojo…”
He couldn’t help but squish the little octopus. He didn’t know why it hurt him to hear you call him only by his last name.
“I disagree with what you said earlier. I should be punished for my existence. I’ve done nothing good. Born into a life of luxury, and I still managed to want more… When Toji broke up with me, he told me something very valuable. He told me that I was stuck in my mother’s hospital room. That I never left. And he’s right. Ever since my mom died, I became a walking corpse. I cursed myself with eternal loneliness. And yet, I so wanted to fight that loneliness. So when my father mentioned the marriage, I was ecstatic. Although we haven’t spoken in years and you refused to answer any messages I sent, my loneliness convinced me that you wanted it. I mean technically you did, but you didn’t really want it. I wonder, if I had never accepted that proposal, would you still be with Sera? Would any of this happened?”
The wind filled in for Gojo’s silence.
“My selfishness blinded me. I so badly wanted to be loved that I ignored any sign of resistance. Even when you told me that I would never compare to her, I wanted you to change for me. How pretentious. Had I just given up, then maybe you wouldn’t have thought that you loved me. When you couldn’t vanquish my loneliness, I searched for it in Toji. I abused his friendship just so that I wouldn’t be alone. When I figured out the real reason you married me, the reason you bought that house, the betrayal. That almost killed me Gojo. Imagine that. Even at my lowest I couldn’t stop seeking attention. I put myself over you, as usual. I lied and kept you from your child. I shouldn’t have been so selfish. It was okay that you didn’t love me. As long as you loved our child. But no selfish Y/N strikes again. Then, even though I knew I wasn’t ready, I still accepted when Toji proposed. I’m a monster. Just a year ago, I almost lost it. I was becoming unrecognizable Gojo. I couldn’t look at you and Akemi without getting angry. How was it fair, that I had to go through months of humiliation, which in hindsight, I did deserve, just for her to get the perfect boyfriend. I cried for months before you even held me. The first time we had sex, I had to beg you to kiss me. I hated her and I hated you. But that’s not your fault. Nor is it her’s. It’s mine. If I wasn’t so selfish and I didn’t think you loved me then none of this would have happened. I ruined so many lives because I couldn’t see past myself. If I didn’t use people to fill this abyss I have in my heart, I wouldn’t have caused you to almost commit suicide. I wouldn’t have taken Sera’s boyfriend from her. I wouldn’t have wasted Toji’s time. I wouldn’t have hurt your mom. None of this would have happened. I should have stayed in that hospital room. I should have asked them to bury me with her.”
You were crying now. Your hands shaky as they gripped tighter. You were curling in on yourself, wanting to disappear. 
“If I hadn’t been so awful, Sachiro wouldn’t have seen me cry so much.”
Gojo’s heart broke. All those lies. All those insults. You believed them. No. No you weren’t selfish. You were the opposite. You always put other above yourself, even if it hurt you. Of course, you’ve committed your share of sins, but never maliciously. You were too trusting, too eager to please. And to think he didn’t love you? That nearly shattered him. He may have moved on, but the love he had for you was real. Even though he may have forgotten how to love you: even though he may have abused you: even though he didn’t deserve to love you, he has never stopped loving you since you were young. 
He reached out a hand to soothe your back as you hiccupped through your gentle tears. You had a special charm that made everything you did look beautiful. But he paused seeing how stunning you were despite the tears on your face. He almost kissed you. But he didn’t. Not because he held himself back, but because he saw your eyes. 
As you stared into the ocean, your eyes changed from their vulnerable and kind state to a detached, disconnected gaze. Almost like you were hypnotized by the sea. The waves calling you. It was the same gaze he had when he was suicidal. 
“After seeing you at the store, I realized that I needed to atone for my sins. I needed to seek forgiveness. That night was actually the night I realized I needed to commit suicide. Not to ease my own pain, no that’s a selfish reason. I wanted to commit suicide so that everyone’s bad thoughts, everyone’s problems, and every bad thing I did could die with me. If everyone took turns spitting on my grave, I wouldn’t mind. As long as I was no longer causing problems, it would have been worth it. I spent the whole night making a new stuffed animal for him. I cut myself a lot by accident, but I didn’t mind. That was going to be his last gift. My existence is a mistake. Me dying would be a gift to the world.”
“And?”
“And I clearly decided not to. I owe my life to Sachiro. As long as he needs me, I will live for him. I want to die, Gojo. I want to give everyone the life they had before they met me. I want everyone to be happy again. But I can’t. Because I have my little star. I’m evil Gojo. I’m a black hole. I pull people in, only to destroy them. I’m afraid one day I might do that to him too.”
You turned to look at him, tears streaming down your face. 
“It kills me to know that one day I’ll hurt him too. But he loves me so much. He fills the void in my heart. I’m not lonely when I’m with him and I know its selfish, but the way he looks at me... The way he looks at me almost makes me think I’m a good person.”
Gojo continued staring at you. He couldn’t take his eyes off of you. Hearing you talk about yourself this way hurt him immensely. It almost felt like he was drowning. No, you didn’t get better. None of your problems were solved. You just learned to live with them. 
You leaned close to Gojo. The honesty in your eyes almost scared him. “Gojo, if you ever notice that Sachiro is suffering being with me, I need you to tell me. The second I start poisoning him, I’ll kill myself.”
The conviction behind your words paralyzed him. You two sat there for a minute. He didn’t know what to say. He knew what this felt like. He knew the exact emotions you were drowning in. But he couldn’t help but think that you were a lot worse. You have begun to hate your entire existence. You had no one. The amount of self-hate you had was shocking. 
After a couple minutes of silence, you wiped your tears away. Standing up you offered your hand to him. 
Looking at you now, it felt like he was in an alternate dimension. One where he confessed when he was younger. One where he never met Sera. One when he got on a knee and properly proposed. And he almost believed it. Just as he reached to grab your hand, he finally noticed how his phone was ringing. Looking down he saw Akemi’s number. He looked at you apologetically. You smiled kindly and continued to offer your hand. As his bigger hand enveloped yours, he imagined pulling you in close and kissing you in the sunset. Just like the romance novels you loved. As soon as he stood up, though, you released his hand. Walking past him you headed back to you house. 
You were giving him privacy. He was at crossroads; stay here and answer the phone or chase after you. All those times he didn’t. Maybe he should this time. No. He’s going to get married. He’s made his choice. And like usual, he didn’t chase after you. 
He spent some time with Akemi on the phone. He explained the entire situation to her. He omitted everything you told him, though. That was for him only. He calmed her down and promised he would be home by the end of the night.
Walking back to your house, he smelled the pasta you used to love so much. You only ever cooked it for him once. He saw you humming as you stirred the pasta with the sauce. 
“Y/N, I’m going to head out now. Akemi is worried. You should call your family too. They’re probably worried too.”
You turned to him. You looked like a picture-perfect housewife with the apron you had on. You hummed in agreement. 
“They already know, but thank you for the suggestion. It was nice seeing you. Would you like some food to take for the trip?”
He should say no. There’s no way to explain leaving work to spend the whole day with your ex-wife to your fiancé. Much less if he brought food with him. 
“Sure.”
You packed it into some cute tupperware. It had little duckies on the lids. He just realized how much you changed financially as well. Besides the large house, one would never assume you came from wealth. There was very little name brand stuff. A lot of the decorations were local. 
Noticing his curious gaze as you handed the Tupperware to him, you giggled.
“If we see each other again, feel free to ask any questions. We’ve both changed a lot. I hope next time you talk a bit more. I kinda hogged the whole conversation today huh?”
You walked him to the door and waved him goodbye. 
He spent the next two hours just re-living that time. Already he missed being in your house. He could already imagine you, him, and Sachiro painting outside or going to the local city for festivals. Despite all the heartbreaking things you told him, all the awful things you thought of yourself, you managed to make a sanctuary. It was always in your nature to find the silver lining in every circumstance. You obviously needed a therapist. But a selfish part of him was glad that he was your confidante. As far as he was concerned, only he knew of how you felt, where you lived, why you did what you did. It was like you were still his.
As soon as he recognized these thoughts, he pulled over. There is no way he can think like that. No that would be unfair to Akemi. He’s already hurt you so much. He pushed you to the point of trauma. He changed you. Even now, the scars of hos he treated you were present. Everything you thought was because he had told you it at one point. No. He couldn’t do all that to Akemi either. 
Grabbing the cute Tupperware with the pasta, he almost threw it out. 
Instead, he took a second to look at it. It was two big ducks and little baby one. You had used a ribbon to tie some utensils on the top. Everything your hands made had some care and love imbued into it. Opening it, he aggressively ate it all. It was delicious, as expected. While he ate, he started crying. Why? Why did seeing you like that hurt him so much? Why did he use Akemi’s name instead of calling her his fiancé? Why didn’t he hold you as you cried? Why do you use his last name? Why?
He drove home that night. He kissed Akemi before she could even greet him. She immediately melted into the kiss, even if she was still peeved at being ghosted the whole day. He playfully pleaded for her to forgive him. He smiled. He laughed. But for some reason her couldn’t look her in the eyes like he used to. A part of him wished it was you he was holding. 
He went to Sachiro’s room. It was messier than usual. He noticed a bunch of crocheted toys he had never seen before. I guess that’s what was in the box. He reached his son, and he stopped to stare at him. Sachiro was holding two things as he slept. The bunny, per usual, but also a note. In big letters Gojo could make out Momma’s Ready! Sachiro was still learning to read, so you hadn’t written much. Still, just seeing those two letters had excited Sachiro so much that he slept with it. On his little tummy laid the phone. Close to dead, Gojo picked it up to charge it. There he saw that Sachiro had been listening to a video you recorded of yourself singing to him. Oh right. Since you had spent the whole evening with Gojo, you couldn’t call Sachiro. 
For a reason Gojo couldn’t explain, he sent the video to his own phone. He plugged the phone in and walked out of the room. 
Akemi had already headed to their own room. Before Gojo could, he had to organize some stuff.
“Hello, I know its late. I’m just letting you know not to pick up Sachiro tomorrow. I’ll handle the drop off.”
Gojo had to see you. Just for answers. He just wanted you to explain yourself. That’s all
At least that’s what he told himself. But when he slept that night, he dreamt of living in that house with you. He dreamt of cooking breakfast for Sachiro and you. He dreamt of a world where you were his. 
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fayes-fics · 3 months
Text
When The World Is Free: Chapter 2 -  La Valse de Paris
MASTERPOST PREV | NEXT
Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x fem!reader, WW2 AU.
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Warnings: none
Word Count: 1.7k
AuthorsNote: Chapter 2 of new multi-chapter fic based on a request by the lovely @amillcitygirl! Please see the masterpost for a synopsis of this story. This details our reader settling into Paris and the outbreak of war. Benedict turns up next chapter. Thanks to @colettebronte for beta reading. Enjoy! <3
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Paris, September 1939
Your first few weeks in Paris are a delightful blur. 
Spending late summer exploring the city - with Solène as your occasional guide and Eloise when she is not at work. You soak up every moment, from the windswept magnificence of standing atop the Eiffel Tower, your words being stolen by the wind, to the monastic silence of the Louvre on a quiet Monday morning. And everything in between - from Notre Dame's atmospheric incense-laden gothic darkness to the airy, resplendent glass dome of Galeries Lafayette that glitters like a prismatic jewel even on cloudy days. 
But perhaps your favourites are the little slices of city life: sitting watching the world go by at a corner cafe, the crunch and warm, pillowy softness of the first bite of freshly baked baguette as you wander back from the boulangerie, the lingering fragrance of the rose garden at the Château de Bagatelle in Bois de Boulogne... It's all pieces of a puzzle that fill your heart in ways that make your life before now seem drab, almost in black and white, like a photograph.
You have written to Stanley once since you arrived, effusive in your praise, a homily to your new home, however temporary. While proclaiming his happiness for you, his response tempered, a touch dismissive of your wonderment. I can scarcely believe any city could truly live up to the praise you so readily heap upon Paris, my love, he wrote back. That was a week ago, and your urge to reply has been muted. 
It's during an idle lunchtime by the Seine, eating a sandwich as you dangle your feet over the river wall, that you genuinely feel a local. An elderly French couple, likely visiting from the provinces, approaches you and asks you for directions to the Musée de l'Homme. Part of you aglow they think you sophisticated enough to look Parisian, and French. And you are able to help them, giving them the information in French, not fluent but sufficient that they are surprised when you confess “je suis américaine”.
In your third week, you secure the art gallery job Eloise had seen posted. An opportunity to meet many new people, primarily British and American, who share your love of art of all persuasions. You spend many a happy hour answering questions and building your knowledge of art, not just in your gallery but across the city. Part of you is wistful to study the subject in even greater depth than the books you borrow in copious quantities from the library where Eloise works.
You grow so close to Eloise so quickly that it’s as if you have known her your whole life. A sense of kinship, a near familial bond. You know, on some instinctive level, she will always be a part of your life somehow. Your evenings are often spent in lounge bars together—venues awash with art deco splendour as you listen to jazz through a cigarette haze and flirt aimlessly with a carousel of handsome men. Life seems so full of potential, a hum in your very being.
“What do you think the purpose of life is, y/n?” Eloise sighs as she flops onto your bed after returning from one such decadent night out.
“Aaaand we are done with the brandy…” you declare, taking the bottle of Martell cognac from her grip and placing it pointedly on the dresser, your high-handed point only mildly undermined by your own unsteady gait.
You collapse down next to her, the intricate ceiling rose around your light fixture swirling slightly before your very eyes.
“Love?” you hazard in answer to her question.
“Boo! Cliché!” she jeers, elbowing you good-naturedly.
“I don’t just mean romantic love,” you protest, “the love of family… friends…”
“Ah, yes, family. Endlessly large family. Don’t suppose you want an extra sibling or two, do you? I could be persuaded to let a couple go,” she squints comically.
“Depends… can I have the artist?” you jest.
“You have to stop staring at that painting; it's getting weird,” she opines with her typical bluntness, “and no, you can’t. You know he’s my favourite,” she pouts.
“I think he’s my favourite too,” you opine over a stifled yawn, any embarrassment about being called out for your unbridled admiration overridden by the sleepy state your comfortable bed lulls you into.
“If you end up being attracted to my brother, I will have to disown you, you know,” she pats your hand drowsily.
“Hmm, good thing he’s so far away…” you trail off with a lazy giggle, eyes drooping heavily.
It’s the last words you exchange before you both fall asleep on your bed.
Perhaps, as with all things that are too good, the idyll is temporary. It's the news you wake up to that following morning, September 4th, which throws everything into uncertainty. Solène knocks on your door early with an uncharacteristically sombre expression, wordlessly handing you the morning paper and flicking on the wireless on your mantelpiece, the fine lines on her face deeper etched, furrowed with worry.
‘La Guerre!’ the headline screams from the newspaper. And the voice on the airwaves, your ear more attuned to the language now, details how Britain and France have jointly declared war against Germany for their invasion of Poland a few days prior.
At the sound of the radio, Eloise emerges from your room, blinking and hair asunder, a little delicate from your previous night's revelry. You sip coffee at a loss for what to think or do. It’s an odd cognitive dissonance when life at once seems identical but also changed by an invisible shape - an undercurrent of fear, of the unknown, a punch to the pit of your stomach that you don’t know how to acknowledge - even as you go through the motions of your daily routine and head to work.
By the evening you are more phlegmatic about the situation. Your spirit dampened, yes, but not crushed. You feel an immense sense of privilege that conflict is not yet at your doorstep, but equally knowing being in the capital city of a nation that just declared war against a neighbouring country is not exactly safe.
You and Eloise splash out on dinner at an upscale brassiere that night, one you have both passed and commented you’d love to dine in some time. Both of you seized by the unspoken “what if”, the previous reluctance to treat yourselves entirely absent.
Talk on all the tables around you as you dine - on heavenly butter-soft steak - is about the war. What it could mean for Paris, fear of another major European conflict so soon after the last, the economic concerns - the bite of the early 30s depression just relinquishing its hostile grip on the somewhat bruised denizens.
Afterwards, you wander the cobbled streets back to your apartment, arms looped, bellies full, occasionally staring up at the starry night sky in mostly contemplative, sober silence. It’s a beautiful evening, but something in the warm breeze feels melancholic.
When you open the door to your building, Solène is waiting, rocking on her heels.
“Eloise, a telegram has come for you!” she announces, shoving a piece of paper into her hand. “And a telephone call from England earlier,” she adds, gesturing to the black rotary phone outside her place—the only one in the building.
Eloise gives you a brief glance and then opens the message. You watch her eyes ping across the text before her shoulders slump.
“My mother,” she sighs in explanation, “it appears she is summoning me back home.”
“What?!” the selfish reflex of not wanting to be left alone is the first thing flaring in you.
“It’s not fair!” she whines in a flash of child-like defiance before continuing in a more subdued tone. “She is sending my brother to come get me. She doesn’t specify which, but seeing as Anthony is a Lieutenant General in the Army and has likely been called to Churchill’s side, I'm presuming Benedict,” Eloise surmises. 
Your thoughts instantly fly to that painting hanging in your apartment upstairs. A strange flutter under your ribs at the idea you could be about to meet its creator. Quickly followed by a wash of guilt that you could even focus on such a frivolous thing.
“What will I do without you?’’ You fret aloud, grasping her arm tighter.
“There was a call for you too, y/n,” Solène pipes up. “Your father wants you to exchange your return ticket for a sailing home as soon as possible,” she relays.
“But.. I just got here!” your lament as defiant as Eloise’s. A frustrating sense you are losing a fleeting opportunity you already hold so precious - like a new toy being ripped from the meaty fist of a truculent toddler.
“Mes amis, what can I say?” that trademark Gallic shrug seizing Solène’s shoulders. “While Paris is safe for now, we do not know how much longer that will hold true… it is likely best you return home. Perhaps this will be over in weeks, and you can return?”
You know your parents have paid your rent upfront for a whole year, likely similar for Eloise, your landlady not impacted financially by your leaving, merely a wish for you to enjoy your Parisian adventures.
As you unlock the door to your apartment and wander in, both of you sigh; the illumination from the Eiffel Tower that refracts upon your window pane just adds to your melancholia, a sight that before had never failed to warm your heart.
“When will your brother get here?” your inflection dull.
“Tomorrow, most likely. It only takes a couple of hours to cross the Channel, and as you know, the train ride from the coast is just a few more. I expect he’ll be waiting for me right here when I return from work,” her tone is just as flat as yours.
You want to ask if she will pack tonight, but you stop yourself, seeing the flame that usually burns so bright behind her blue eyes dimmed. Wordlessly, you draw closer and pull her into a firm hug.
“I will miss you like a sister,” she whispers into your hair, returning the embrace just as fiercely, “maybe moreso.”
You nod and band your arms tighter briefly before letting go, bone-deep exhaustion overtaking anything else you see in her mirrored stance.
The last thing that captures your eye as Eloise turns to her room is that painting of her childhood home and, strangely, how it feels closer now than ever before.
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Benedict taglist: @foreverlonginguniverse @aintnuthinbutahounddog @severewobblerlightdragon @writergirl-2001 @heeyyyou @enichole445 @enchantedbytomandhenry @ambitionspassionscoffee @chaoticcalzoneranchsports @nikaprincessofkattegat @baebee35 @crowleysqueenofhell @fiction-is-life @lilacbeesworld @broooookiecrisp @queen-of-the-misfit-toys @eleanor-bradstreet @divaanya @musicismyoxygen84 @benedictspaintbrush @miindfucked @sorryallonsy @cayt0123 @hottytoddyhistory @truly-dionysus @fictionalmenloversblog @zinzysstuff @malpalgalz @panhoeofmanyfandoms @kinokomoonshine @causeimissu @delehosies @m-rae23 @last-sheep @kmc1989 @desert-fern @starkeylover @corpseoftrees-queen @magical-spit @bunnyweasley23 @how-many-stars-in-the-sky @amygdtjhddzvb @sya-skies @balladynaaa
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