#also putting this when Law is on the heart seat because it's the only moment that makes sense to me] | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

madamechrissy · 11 days

Text

Take Me Home Tonight

♡ ♡ Pairings ♡ ♡ Law Professor Satoru Gojo x Student Fem Reader

♡ ♡ Warnings ♡ ♡ MDNI- Gojo is like 29 here, reader is like 22 or 23. Nothing too crazy. But is Professor/teacher forbidden type love. In this chap- Fingering, cunnilingus, explicit sex, breeding kink, violence, descriptions of violence (ANGSTY CHAP)

♡ ♡ Word Count ♡ ♡ 8.5k

♡ ♡ Summary ♡ ♡ After passing your LSATs, your friends take you out to unwind. You never go out, so you are awkwardly agree, and you end up in the arms of a super hot man named Satoru. You end up screaming Satoru's name as he drops down on his knees before you, only to lose him in the club. All you have is his first name. Two months later, in your Criminal Law class, your heart stops. Your teacher? Professor Gojo. Or as you soon call him, Professor Dickhead. You can't fuck up your law school, and he won't fuck up his career, not just because he makes you wet in class, no, he's a dick. Right? That pout and blue eyes don't wreck you, right? - Lawyer AU

Chapter 9 - Masterlist - Playlist

Chapter 10

The escort agency is in a sketchy part of the city, and Satoru keeps looking at you worriedly that evening. “I’m fine, Professor.”

“You sure? I can take you back-”

“I’m good, promise! You should see the foster homes I was in. This isn’t anything to me.” He frowns more now, and you all pause on the sidewalk, you can feel the tension, the worry.

“I hate that you ever went through that, baby.” He whispers now, caressing your face sweetly. You gulp a bit, sighing and holding the hand that’s so gentle on your cheek.

“It’s all gotten me here, next to the best lawyer there is. The most handsome too. The best-” Satoru closes your mouth with his hand, and you smile against his warm palm.

“Don’t get me hard, brat, stop it.” You’re giggling now, making him glare at you, long white lashes covering half of his pretty blue eyes.

“Sorry, you’re so cute.”

“Cute!? I’ll show you ‘cute’ later.” He kisses you firmly, lips overtaking yours, and you sigh at how good it feels for a moment, before he takes your hand. “Let’s go, Miss Brat. Lawyer mode.”

“Did you really say lawyer mode!?”

When you get there, dragged along by the stupidly tall and stupidly handsome Satoru Gojo, who’s wearing a black suit looking way too good, the bouncer at the door nods at Satoru, letting you both in without a word. You look at him curiously, and he peeks back with a smirk.

“Paid informants silly, never partook in the goods here.” You roll your eyes at his wolfish grin. “Jealous already?”

“Shush.” The inside is dimly lit, with red velvet couches and a bar along the back wall, and there is a woman sitting in a little booth. The woman looks up, and you can see the recognition in her eyes when she sees Satoru. She’s very pretty, with long red hair and green eyes.

“Mr. Gojo, wow it's been years. And who might this lovely lady be?” She asks, her voice a purr as she smiles curiously at you.

Satoru’s grip on your hand tightens, and you can feel his possessiveness, and his reassurance. “Hey Aoi.” He introduces you now, pulling you closer and wrapping an arm around your waist. “Favorite student.”

“Oh! Oh… Mr. Gojo.” She’s laughing now a bit, wiggling her brows as Satoru grins, and you’re a blushing mess. “Hey now, doll no worries. Who can blame you with him? And also you’re so pretty.”

“Thank you, so are you Miss Aoi.” You say, flush decorating your cheeks, and she smiles softly.

“And she’s so sweet. All right, I’ll put aside my broken heart for her, Mr. Gojo. How can I help you today?”

“I break all the hearts, don’t I? I’m too pretty.”

“Gojo!” You playfully shove him and he just brushes his snowy white hair back with long fingers, winking down at you so damn charmingly.

“Came to see one of your girls, and Madam.”

“Let me see if she’s available.” She is gesturing to the plush sofa in the waiting area. "Please, have a seat, you two. I'll inform the Madam about your arrival."

Satoru nods then, as he guides you to the couch. “Thanks Aoi.” You sit down, your heart racing at being somewhere so new, so different. The walls are adorned with velvet and the air is thick with the scent of expensive perfume, so cloying it irritates your nose a bit.

As you wait, you feel Satoru's hand squeeze yours reassuringly. You look up at him, and he gives you a smile that's a mix of comfort and challenge, as he pulls you against him, hand on your thigh. You lower your lashes, and feel his chuckle against your collar bone, tickling you now.

“Nervous, Miss Brat?” He asks, in that deep timbre, and you sigh, nodding.

“I am, this isn’t… I’ve just never been anywhere like this.”

“Oh, this is just the waiting room, wait till we walk through. Bet you blush red like a tomato.”

“Hey!”

“Mmhmm, or get horny. It’s a toss up.” You roll your eyes, scooching away, but he yanks you back to him. “You were so jealous just now.”

“No! I just… well, you never…”

“Nah, not my style. Though I don’t blame any of them, making money off rich idiots. And a lot of these women are so smart. They’re great for information.” You brush your fingers up and down his collar as you wait.

You know he's as eager to get to the bottom of this as you are, you can feel the tenseness of his body against yours. Your knees are knocking together, you keep fidgeting with your hands, then fiddling with the charms on your bracelet. Satoru takes your hand in his, looking at you seriously.

“If you’re uncomfortable-”

“No, no. I’m good. Just nervous about everything.” He sighs, looking at your little charms now.

“You need another, hmm?”

Before you can answer, a curtain at the back of the room parts, and a statuesque woman emerges. She's dressed in a tight, crimson dress that clings to her body like a second skin. Her eyes are sharp and assessing as she looks you both over.

"Madam," Satoru stands, releasing your hand, "Thank you for seeing us."

"Mr. Gojo," she says, her voice like silk, "It's always a pleasure. And who is this lovely young lady?"

"My top student. She's assisting me with the case." He wraps an arm around your waist and her eyes catch it. “She’s also my Shnookums.”

“Shnookums? Huh.” Madam's gaze lingers on you, and you hold her stare, feeling a flicker of something unpleasant. It's not hostility, but something else. Calculation, maybe. "Well, well, this seems interesting, let's talk in private."

You both get up and follow her into a back room, the curtain swishing shut behind you. The room is dimly lit, with a large desk and a few chairs, thick incense heavy and smoking, there are ornate paintings and the walls are red with foiled gold leaf. There's a sense of something seedy but also it’s classy in a way. It’s what you would picture for a Madam, you think at least.

Madam sits down in a big red chair, plush and velvet, crossing long bare legs and smirking at you both. "What brings you to my establishment after so many years, Mr. Gojo?"

“Aww, miss me Madam?” He shoots a wink, and she rolls her eyes.

“Want a drink, you two?” You look at Gojo and he nods. “There’s a decanter of brandy right there, it’s a good year.”

“You’re always so sweet you know.” She scoffs, and his hand brushes your thigh before he stands, adjusting his suit a bit and then pouring from the crystal decanter, allowing the Madam time to study you.

“You’re awfully pretty. You should come work for me.” She cooes, and Satoru comes over and scowls at her, making her smirk. “What, she’d make top dollar.”

“I enjoy law, but thank you for the offer.” You say smoothly, and the madam’s red lips tilt up.

“I like her.”

“I know, she’s the best. Here ya go, Madam.” Gojo hands her a glass, then you, with the clear amber liquid. “Now…” He sits next to you, hand possessively clutching your thigh, he always has to touch you when he can, and you love it, love feeling so connected. “I need to talk to one of your girls. She might have information on our suspect."

Madam's expression doesn't change. "Which one?"

"Kanna."

Her eyes flicker with something, but she remains calm. "Kanna is no longer with us. She's moved on to... other opportunities."

You see Satoru's jaw clench, and you know he's not buying it. "Bullshit," he says, his voice low and dangerous, "I know she's still here, I’ve already had details about her. And I need to talk to her."

Madam sighs, leaning back in her chair. "Very well. But what's in it for me?" She asks, and Satoru smirks now.

“How about… this.” He pulls out a giant wad of hundreds, there was surely thousands of dollars there, and she nods then, standing.

“Always a pleasure, Mr. Gojo. I’ll have her come in. It was a pleasure to meet you, you’ve got quite a man.” She is trailing her long red nails across your cheek, tilting your chin up. “And he’s got quite a girl.”

“I sure do.” She tousles Satoru’s white hair, sauntering out then, leaving you both waiting in anticipation. “She’s kinda a bitch.”

“Mmm, seems like a businesswoman to me.” Satoru chuckles, as you take a sip of the strong liquor, coughing a bit.

“Lightweight.”

“Hey!” Soon though, a young woman with short black hair and a wary look in her eyes enters the room. She's dressed in a short, lacy dress that leaves little to the imagination. You can see the fear in her eyes as she looks at Satoru, and something in your chest tightens.

"Thank you for coming, Kanna. We need your help." Satoru says then, standing up to shake her hand, and her eyes flick to you, and then back to Satoru, curiously.

"Sure, what's going on?"

"We're working on a case," he says, his voice softer now. "And we think you might have some information that could help us."

Kanna looks at the floor, biting her lip. "I don't know anything."

Satoru's gaze turns intense, and you can feel the power in the room shift, it’s like you can see him go into that mode, the serious one. "Look at me," he commands, and she does, her eyes wide with fear. "I need the truth, Kanna. We're trying to put away a dangerous fucking man, and free an innocent one."

For a long moment, she's silent. Then she looks up, her eyes meeting both of you, fidgeting as she sits down finally. "Okay," she whispers, "I'll tell you what I can, that was a long time ago."

“Thank you, Kanna. All right, do you remember a run in with Naoya Zenin?” She tenses, and nods, and you see it right on her face, she’s fucking terrified.

Kanna's voice is shaky as she starts talking, her eyes darting between you and Satoru, and you can see the fear in them. She tells a story of a night with Naoya, a night that ended with bruises and tears. The way she describes his behavior sends a chill down your spine, confirming the suspicions you've had since the moment you laid eyes on him.

Satoru's expression is unreadable, his icy blue eyes never leaving hers, studying her, even as he still holds on to you so close, like you’re tethering him from losing his shit. You hold his hand carefully, he is so tense and you can feel the anger simmering under his calm exterior, his hand balling into a fist at his side that’s not holding you. You know he's holding back, for now, but you’re not sure for how long.

Satoru is furious as he hears what he’s done.

“So why didn’t you say it was him that night with your friend!?” Satoru’s voice is harsh, and you can feel him coming apart at the seams. You struggle to hold his hand, which is clenched so tightly in a fist.

She opens her mouth, then closes it, and tears start pouring from her eyes, so you stand up then, grabbing a box of tissues, and you walk over to her, bending on a knee down on the plush rug. You dab her eyes gently, and she smiles a bit tremulously, Satoru is quiet behind you.

“He’s just really, really worried about someone else getting hurt. You can tell us anything, we’ll protect you, okay?” She nods then, and you come to hold her hands, which are cold and clammy.

“Th-thank you. He told me he’d kill me if I said anything, and I believed him… I was so afraid.” She’s sobbing and you’re holding her thin body, as it wracks with her shaking shoulders.

Satoru comes up then, putting a hand on her shoulder, and one on yours, mouthing a ‘thank you’.

When she finishes her story, you can see the wheels turning in Satoru's head. He's piecing together the puzzle, looking for the one piece that will make it all make sense. "Thank you, Kanna, you've been very helpful. Do you think Madam has any vido cameras back there?”

She frowns, nodding. “She does. I’m not sure how far back they go but I suppose you might find the video of him with me. As for my friend who… is gone… I don't think so. He took her to his place.”

“I’ll pay her to find it. Kanna, could you possibly share this in court?”

“Oh god facing him!?”

“We’ll be right there, Kanna.” You say reassuringly. “He scares me too, he’s already… threatened me.” Your eyes lower, and she gasps, then holds your hands tightly.

“I’ll do it.”

“Oh my god!” You hug her tightly, feeling so much emotion for a girl you barely know. “Kanna you’re so brave.”

“I wouldn’t want you hurt because I was too afraid. But please… I need to make sure I’m safe.”

“You will be, I can get you out of here too if you want. A new life, far away?” She sighs, nodding then, and Gojo stands up and hands her a huge amount of money now, so much it was insane to physically see.

“Oh, you don’t have to.” She hands it back, but Gojo shakes his head.

“You’re doing me the biggest favor. Just keep this between us.”

“Of course, thank you. It will help me so much.” She stands up and hugs Gojo, then comes to hold your hands. “Please be careful. Mr. Gojo take good care of her.”

“I will, of course, I’ll get this mother fucker. Don’t worry.” She exhales, and there is a heavy tension in the room as you both get up to leave, Satoru's hand on the small of your back guiding you out.

Once you're outside, the cool evening air hits you like a slap in the face, and you both take a moment to breathe. "Shit, that was... something."

Satoru turns to you, his eyes a mess of emotions, those swirling cerulean depths drinking you in. He pulls you flush against him, exhaling, warm against the chill of the air, puffing a bit of your hair back. “You were amazing there.”

“What? No, Satoru, I just comforted her.” You look down a bit, but he tilts your chin back up.

“No, you were so caring, where I was harsh. Thank you. I don’t know if she would have opened up without you.” You hug him tightly, and he sinks his lips onto yours, moaning softly in your mouth.

“You’re so welcome, I’m so happy if I helped.”

“You have no clue. I’m learning from you.”

“No way.”

“Mmhmm.” You both keep pecking kisses, as his praise washes over you, making you so damn happy you can’t think. “Let’s get some rest, big day tomorrow.”

“Cuddle?” He smirks, nodding, and leads you back.

That night you end up falling asleep in his lap again, as he can’t tear himself from his research, and your heart aches for him.

****

Satoru Gojo is sipping on a sugary mocha frappe, as you’re sipping on a french roast the next day in a break room. This morning had been more witness testimonies, as Satoru is waiting to ruin it all if he can’t get this witness, Kanna, to be allowed.

“They’ll allow it! Fuck yes.” He says once he’s hung up the cell phone, his eyes lit up, despite the heavy dark circles. You bounce up eagerly, and he pulls you to him, exhaling as he clings so tightly.

“Oh Satoru, this is good news.”

“I’ll play stupid and fuck it all up. I’ll let him get ruined. But fuck, it’s going to be shit to ‘lose’.”

“You’ll be winning, really. Think about it.”

“If he says one word, I’ll fucking kill him.” Satoru says, tersely, then his alarm goes off, it’s time for you all to head back. “Fuck remember when I fingered you in like four minutes?”

You giggle at that, shaking your head at his change of subject. “Yes, I remember, crazy man. You spit on it!”

“Sure did.” He purrs out the words, and you’re a blushing mess now as he pulls you so close. “I’m taking a break after this case, thinking I’ll become a daddy.”

“Satoru stop that!” You smack at his hands as they come over your tummy, and he’s giving you puppy eyes.

“Too flat, I need it filled with me.” He picks you up, as you wriggle around in his hold, but he’s way stronger, and you’re getting turned on with him.

“You’re such an adrenaline whore! You’re getting turned on because we’re gonna get him, aren’t you!?” He grins then, letting you down, you slide down his chest slowly, giggling then.

“Like you’re not too, get turned on by true crime.” You shove at him playfully, before falling easily into his kisses. “I love you, Shnookums.”

“I love you, Toru. We got this.” You pop more reassuring kisses, but there is such a looming presence to your happiness, a heaviness in your chest that you can’t quite describe, gnawing at you.

You shove it down, you need to be here for Toru.

****

Sitting next to Naoya again, you have your shoulders squared, your chin up high as you watch your man, as he decimates the prosecution with ease, like any good defense attorney. Each question is a dance, a mix of Gojo pretending to try, and letting so much slip that will go against Naoya, as if biding his time until he’s going to demolish his own case.

“The prosecution calls Kanna Otigori to the stand.” Says the prosecutor, and Gojo pretends to be surprised along with everyone else. He may or may not have paid off the prosecution to call her.

Yeah Gojo is something alright.

Her eyes widen in fear as she sees Naoya next to you, and you look over to watch him stiffen, his fists clenching the table so hard they’re turning white. You can’t stop the smile the quirks up on the side of your lips, but you instantly erase it when he looks over at you. His eyes are terrifying, they make you tremble as he glares.

“What’s wrong, Mr. Zenin?” You ask softly, and he scoffs, rolling his eyes and sinking down into the seat.

“Didn’t give you permission to talk to me.” It’s your turn to scoff, looking at your notes for a moment, but suddenly he’s gripping your leg so hard you’re crying out, the courtroom is too loud currently with the uproar for it to stand out.

“Get the fuck off me.” You hiss at him, and he slides his hand up then, you grip his wrist, digging your nails in and glaring. “Get off.”

“I’ll expose you both if you ruin this shit for me, fucking got me?” You tremble, looking away as he continues to boldly touch you, in front of the whole room, but no one could see. “Let me catch you when your body guard isn’t around.”

He lets you go, and your heart is shattered, as you realize everything you have with Satoru is going to crumble. You’d ruin your career, his… but you can’t let him get away with this shit. You casually kick the fuck out of him with your heel under the table, and he damn near lunges at you before he realizes what he’s doing.

“Was gonna be sweet with you. Not now. I’ll fucking ruin every inch of you.” He whispers, and finally you can’t take it, you’re hyperventilating. You step out, rushing through the room, and eyes are everywhere on you.

You sink against the wall, holding your chest, it feels as if it were going to just explode, and then Satoru is there, holding you. “Satoru, no, go back in. Go back in! You need to fucking get him! You-”

“What’d he say!? What happened!? Baby tell me.” He’s cupping your face, having left his own damn trial for you.

“I’m ruining your life.” You whisper through tears, and his lips part in a gasp, as he shakes his head furiously, bending low, his beautiful face blurring as you keep feeling more and more faint. Your blood pressure has skyrocketed, you’re shaky, and you can’t catch a breath.

“You’re making my life. There was nothing before you. Stop it. Please, baby, c’mere…” He pulls you against him as you continue to hyperventilate, to the point you’re not sure you can breathe anymore. “Baby breathe with me. Please.”

Satoru holds you close, his hand rubbing circles on your back as he whispers sweet nothings into your ear, trying to calm you down. You focus on his steady breaths, trying to match them, but it's hard, really hard. The walls seem to be closing in, and all you can think about is Naoya's threats, about Satoru’s future, and you realize you’re crying all over his dress shirt.

"I've got you, everything will be fine." He whispers, and you want to believe him, you really do. You cling to his suit, breathing him in, trying to ignore the panic attack that's taking over your body.

But it's not fine, is it? It’s never going to be fine if Naoya gets away with this.

You manage to suck in a breath, and he leans back to look at you, his eyes searching your face, so concerned, so loving. "You okay?"

"No." You admit, and his own expression cracks, just a bit. "But I'll be okay. We'll get him."

"We will, I promise you. If not, I’ll fucking murder him, you got me?” He cups your face as he says it, as you lose yourself in his eyes. “What did he say?”

“I can’t tell you, you’ll fuck up the case. I need your head in the game, you need to get him. Please.” Satoru scowls then, opening his mouth to demand you tell him, when a court officer approaches, looking stern.

"Mr. Gojo, you're needed back in the courtroom." Satoru nods, looking torn.

“I need a break, please, I’ll be back in. Don’t worry, I'm okay.” He frowns, and you feel his energy, his love, as he shakes his head, but you gently push him.

"I love you. I promise I’ll do this right." He whispers, pressing a kiss to your forehead, before he has to go back in, but his touch lingers, as you hug yourself, trying to control the violent shaking.

If you are going to be a criminal lawyer, you need to try to face this, you need to push past it.

You allow yourself some time before you walk back in, sitting next to this fucking man, and finally watch Satoru work his magic. He gives you a reassuring little smile, and you thank God he doesn’t know what Nouya did just yet, you know he wouldn’t be able to handle it.

Your skin crawls as you continue to sit next to this disgusting man, but he’s actually terrified now, his eyes bulging out of his head, as Gojo plays ‘dumb’ and acts so shocked that the witness is ruining his case. He’s waving his hands dramatically, and trying to ‘argue’ his way, half assed of course, and suddenly the prosecution is looking happy.

“Kanna, how are we to believe you!?” Satoru asks, as if he’s really trying to dissuade her, then suddenly, a bailiff is handed evidence, and Satoru once more pretends to look shocked.

It’s a perfect show.

You both had admitted it to evidence by paying the Madam double what Satoru already had, to make it look like the Prosecution had done so. These Prosecution lawyers probably thought they were killing it, beating the Satoru Gojo!? And Satoru let them think so.

The Satoru Gojo, the best lawyer, who never loses, is going to lose on purpose, so he can make sure this fucker disappears.

“What is this!?” Satoru asks, as the judge views it, turning pale.

“This is… please, everyone, allow me a moment.” The judge is so disgusted she walks out for a moment, before convening with the lawyers and the rest of the team. “We will play this, but please be aware, it’s graphic.”

The video so clearly shows Naoya abusing Kanna, and you feel your stomach roll with nausea, tensing, as the jury looks on in horror. Kanna has already been escorted back, and you know she will be going far away, starting hopefully a much better life than she had. You’re ready to vomit, as Naoya is losing his shit, and his family is trying to control him.

Satoru is holding his mouth, as if he’s as sick as the rest of you, at points he couldn’t even look. “Your honor, I have nothing to say, defense rests.”

Everyone in the courtroom is in shock, there’s so much noise that the judge banging her gavel isn’t doing a damn thing, they’re all losing their shit. The famous Gojo rests his case, and he comes up to stand between you and Naoya, who lunges at him, and you see Satoru’s insane blue eyes, his brows up high, grin huge like the joker. He looks fucking crazy.

“Looks like our next talk will be how to keep you off death row.” He says, patting Naoya then on the shoulder, and then he’s just dragging you out, you race in your heels to catch his quick, long strides, until you all are out front.

“Satoru, are you okay? That was-”

“What’d he do? What’d he do fucking tell me.” You blink a bit, as he’s cupping your face so tight, and that insane look is even more insane, his eyes are so bright they hurt you to stare at. You take a shaky breath, looking around, and seeing people filing out of the courtroom.

“Satoru, we can’t right here-”

“I don’t fucking care. Tell me. Now. I have to know what he said to get you that way, what he threatened, he’s clearly a fucking monster!” His voice is breaking, and it breaks your heart to see him this way, as he’s got you in a vice like grip.

“Satoru, you’re hurting me.” You whisper, as he’s squeezing your head so hard it aches, he instantly releases you, pulling you against him and kissing you, shamelessly right there. “Satoru we can’t!”

“You’re fucking mine. I’m so tired of it.” He’s burying his face in your neck, and you know people can see, they’re starting to stop and say things.

“Please calm down.” You ease back a bit, then pull him away further, until you are behind a little alcove in front of the court house, and Satoru is completely on edge, he’s trembling all over. You run your hands gently down his arms. “If I tell you, you have to promise you won’t do something rash.”

“Nope, just tell me.” You sigh again, then hug your own arms, looking down as he studies you. “I need to fucking know baby.”

“Shit. He touched my thigh… and higher. Satoru!” He’s punching the bannister, and you watch it crackling, as he faces you again. “What else?”

“Satoru…”

“What else!?”

You tremble at his tone, you’ve never seen him so unhinged and it’s terrifying you now. “He… said he’d ruin me for you.”

“Fucking what!?”

“It’s fine, we’re going to-”

“I’m done acting so fucking mature. I’m done being the bigger person. He can’t touch you, don't you get it baby? I’ll never let him touch you again.” Satoru slings off his jacked as Naoya is coming right for him, and your heart drops in your stomach.

There’s no reaching Gojo now.

The crowd gathers around the two of you, whispers flying, as Naoya stops right in front of you, his eyes bloodshot with rage. "You think you're so fucking clever, don't you, Gojo?"

Gojo grins, looking terrifying, but Naoya doesn’t back up one bit, as Gojo starts laughing then. "It’s about to get so much worse for you. I wonder which boy will rape you in prison?" Satoru says, his voice deadly calm, his eyes glowing with rage.

Naoya loses his shit then, shoving at him. "You think you can just use me to win your little game? I'll show you what happens when you mess with me."

Satoru steps closer, so close you can feel the heat of his breath on your cheek. "You're already going down, Naoya. This is just the cherry on top, beating you to a fucking pulp for touching her."

You watch as Naoya's eyes narrow, his hands curling into fists, and Naoya swings first, but Satoru is already moving, his fist connecting with Naoya's jaw with a sickening crack. The sound echoes through the air, and Naoya stumbles back, his mouth hanging open in shock, and you watch blood already pouring from Satoru’s huge fist connecting.

You watch in horror as Gojo grabs him, slamming him against the banister, each punch thrown with the precision of a master. It's clearly not Satoru’s first time fighting, he seems to know every spot. Naoya struggles to get a single hit in, but Satoru is ducking, then swinging and punching his stomach.

“I said if you touched her you’d fucking die.” He bites out, as people are now recording on their phones.

Shit.

“Satoru…” You try to get his attention, but he’s well past that, and you want to stop him, but your body is frozen, your heart racing as you watch the man you love beat the living daylights out of the monster that is Naoya.

Satoru is like a force of nature, unstoppable, relentless, and you're both terrified and turned on by the power he exudes, and there’s now the threat of everyone seeing this, seeing him fighting Naoya over you. Naoya lands a hit on Satoru’s pretty face now, and you lose your shit, you snatch up your briefcase, coming behind him and whacking the fuck out of him now.

You can hear the murmurs of the crowd, the gasps, the whispers of shock and excitement as you’ve seemingly joined the fight. “Don’t touch him, you piece of shit!” You growl out, and Naoya coughs up blood, as Gojo grins over at you, pulling you to him for a moment.

“Fuck you’re hot.” He says, and you actually giggle, as he’s covered in blood, kissing you in front of a whole audience.

You all are SO fucked.

Naoya comes and shoves you then, knocking you on your ass, and then Satoru is back on him, knocking him to the ground and straddling him. “I’ll fucking kill you, don’t you dare touch her!”

Naoya’s family is trying to break it up, as are others, but the fight is brutal, each hit landed with a ferocity that leaves you breathless. It seems like it goes on forever, but it's really only a matter of minutes before Naoya is on flat the ground, not moving, and Satoru is kneeling over him, chest heaving as he keeps punching. Naoya isn’t even conscious.

“Satoru… he’s out.” You come to him then, touching his shoulder, so tense and shaking, but he looks up at you, then back at him, and punches his swollen, bruised face again, as you hear the sirens approach.

Shit.

The police come rushing over now, trying to pull Gojo away, but he’s not listening, he’s lost in his rage, until you’re grabbing his shoulders. “It’s okay, it’s over, Toru please stop, please." You’re shaking him, and finally, he’s coming back to reality, looking down at you, his eyes still alight with that rage, but now there’s a hint of something else.

Guilt.

He looks at you, and you just nod, and stand then, and he kisses you, so hard, before the cops can drag him away, whispering in your ear. “I’m sorry baby, I’m sorry. I’ll fix it, I’ll get us out of this, I promise. I love you so much, so much.”

“Satoru, I’ll get you out. I’ll head right there okay!?” He nods then, as the cops are putting the love of your life in handcuffs, and the ambulance is taking a completely unrecognizable Naoya away.

You’re left standing there, as Satoru is taken away in the car, and you hop in his, heart racing and hands trembling, as you now have to navigate his car, and you follow the cop car, seeing his bright blue eyes peeking at you from the rear window. You stay right behind them until you get to the jail.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck.” You curse inside of his car, smacking the wheel as your chest is heaving, as you’re fucking terrified.

You end up having to wait over three hours, agonizing as your friends let you know they’ve already watched the video on youtube. As Suguru and Nanami blow up the phone Gojo left, and there’s an insane amount of calls from Dean Yaga to both of your phones, that go unanswered.

You all are so fucked.

After a long, long wait, they let you bail Satoru out, luckily he had a fuck ton of money in his wallet, because it was hefty, and when he steps out, he is laughing and chit chatting with the cops. They’re patting his back, apologizing for this, and he’s grinning when he finally gets to you.

“Satoru!” You’re in tears, and he picks you up in his arms, hugging you tightly, and the cops clear their throats.

“Let’s go, baby.” Now you’re cleaning Satoru’s wounds in the little hotel bathroom, pulling out different things from the first aid kit.

You gently clean Satoru's face, your trembling hands moving with the gentle precision of a sculptor repairing a cherished masterpiece. Satoru’s beautiful face is a masterpiece, and to see it marred seems so cruel. You’re dabbing on his busted lower lip carefully, before applying antiseptic.

“It might sting.” You murmur apologetically, and he smiles a bit, as his hands sit on the nip of your waist, hands encompassing it.

“I am getting taken care of by the hottest nurse, I’ll not be a little bitch and cry about it.” You snort at that, as his hands now press into your hips, making you melt more and more.

“You’re too positive. Fuck you know what happened…” You exhale, as you continue to wipe him clean, dabbing right on his eye which is swelling a bit. “I’ll get some ice for this.”

“Mmm, you spoil me. Nurse and student fantasies.” You giggle at him, returning with some ice and wrapping a washcloth, placing it on his brow bone.

His eyes are closed, and his breaths are shallow, but he grips your hips firmly, as if afraid you'll slip away. The room's stark lighting casts stark shadows across his skin, highlighting the raw, red marks where Naoya's knuckles had made contact. The adrenaline rush from the fight has begun to recede, leaving behind a cold wave of fear that now crashes over you,

“I’m scared, Satoru.” You whisper, and Satoru's eyes finally open, meeting yours with a fiery intensity that makes you gasp. He pulls you closer, his grip tightening.

“Don’t be baby girl, I’ll deal with this. I promise, I won’t let it touch you.” He says desperately, and you shake your head, blinking back tears.

“Why don’t you ever worry about you!? Why is it only me!” You’re shaking him by the shoulders, and he lets you, just studying you with heartbreakingly gorgeous eyes.

“I’m rich as fuck, I’ll pay them to keep you at the school.”

“Satoru, what about you!? You’ve done everything to nail him, even losing this damn case, you can’t let this ruin you. Not when you help so many.” You whisper, and now you’re straddling him as he sits at the edge of the tub, and he’s blinking back emotion, his long white lashes dripping with little droplets of tears.

“Who do I help?” His broken voice kills you, you shake your head, gently cupping his cheeks, careful not to hurt him, and he’s gripping your hips bruisingly, as if he never wants to let you go.

“So many people! Satoru you’ve saved lives, you’ve put away murderers-”

“An innocent man!”

“And we’ll get him out! Stop it, you need to know how amazing you are.” He’s crying silently now, you gently brush his tears away, taking a shaky breath. “You’ve saved me in so many ways. You’ve given me arms that make me feel like I’m at home, finally.”

He’s sobbing, resting his head on your chest, and you cling to him, holding him so tightly as he does, his big hands gripping your shirt so tightly you think he’ll rip it right off. Every sob and shake break you internally, as the man you love is so broken, he’s got so much fucking pain.

“I fucked us up too.”

“No! We’ll handle it. We will. Satoru nothing will keep me from this, even if… even if I can’t…”

“Don’t say that, you have to be a lawyer, fuck you’re destined for it. You’re so good baby. I swear to god I won’t let that fuck up.” He looks back to you, and you nod, trembling in his hold as emotions flow, as the little bathroom is suffocating in all the emotion and tension.

“I will do anything for you, Satoru Gojo. Anything.” He picks you up then, moaning, and wincing at the same time. “Satoru, are you okay!?”

“ ‘Tis but a scratch.”

“Did you just quote Monty Python?”

“Good girl.” You giggle, even though it’s fucking insane, even though you are both beyond fucked, even though Satoru just beat up a murderer and everyone knows about you.

Even if your life is ruined, Satoru is here.

Flesh and blood.

“I need you, I need you. Please.” You’re begging as he’s carrying you to the bed, and he exhales, undressing you slowly, unzipping the business skirt you were still wearing, as the moonlight is pouring in through the hotel window. You tremble as he unbuttons your blouse, kissing each inch of exposed skin.

“I’ll give you anything, baby girl.” He murmurs, as your hands are enwrapping in his snowy white hair, so soft in your fingers, and then he’s got you bare aside from a bra and panties. “Beautiful.”

“Oh, Toru…” You’re crying now too, needing him so badly you can’t think, breaths coming quicker when he takes off his shirt, revealing that perfect body. You eagerly run your hands down it, kissing down his chest, until he shoves you down on the bed, right on your back, shaking his head.

“Let me take care of you, baby girl. Please?” He whispers, his eyes dilated so that there’s just a thin blue ring, as his hands caress your sensitive skin, leaving a wake of fire. “Be a good girl f’me, baby?”

“Yes, of course. Of course, Toru. Please.” You whisper, sitting up to undo your bra, letting your breasts bounce out, and he’s groaning, gripping them and squishing them in his hands, kissing down each mound. You cry out at how good it feels when he bites you there, when he squeezes so hard.

“Too rough baby?” You shake your head, and he exhales, kissing around an areola before sucking one of your perky nipples in his mouth, nipping it with his teeth, and your hips buck up at how good it feels. It shoots straight through your tummy, where his hand is sliding down. “I fucking love your body.”

“Th-thank, ah! Toru!” You’re soaking your panties, as he’s slipping his finger down the waistband, moaning when he finds you.

“You’re such a good girl, always so wet f’me baby. Aren’t you?” His voice is hoarse, his finger slipping up and down between your lips, and you’re clutching him so tightly, manicured nails digging in his back, making him hiss. “Yes, fucking mark me, please baby.”

“Toru…” You’re not used to him like this, as his eyes flutter shut over you, and he’s so vulnerable then, so needy, as he whines when you’re finding him over his pants, rubbing. “So hard for me Toru? Show me.”

“Yes baby.” He leans back and takes off his clothes finally, you eagerly go to touch him, feeling his length twitch in your grip, but he shoves you back down, shaking his head. “I need to take care of you.”

“You can do that by fucking my throat?” He groans at that, eyes shutting for a moment, allowing you to look just how beautiful he is as that moonlight hits his alabaster skin.

“You drive me insane. The moment I first looked into your goddamn eyes at that club. No, before, when I saw you just standing there.” You’re blinking rapidly, as he’s taking your panties off, kissing down between your breasts, nipping at the tight skin at your ribcage, and you cry out, growing even wetter as your cunt is exposed to the cool air of the room.

“You did?” You whisper, he looks up with those heartbreaking eyes, nodding and kissing further down, nipping your soft tummy, then even lower, shoving your thighs apart and groaning.

“You didn’t belong there. It’s what I thought. I thought, who is this girl? Why does she make my heart stop?” You’re sobbing, even as much as you’re soaking wet between your thighs, your fucking eyes are too, and you’re arching your back for his hot mouth, as your love grows so much it hurts.

“Satoru, I couldn’t- fuck- stand it when I saw you. You changed everything… at that moment I- ah!” He’s licking your inner thigh, right where it’s at that apex, and you’re shivering at the sensation, then he’s breathing on you, looking up in the night up your body. “I knew I was done for.”

“Knew when I tasted this perfect pussy. When I drank you.” He laps you up then, the way this man devours you, the way he worships you, you can’t stand it, you can’t take it, you’re so close already, you’re shattering with a few flicks of that tongue. He groans against you. “When I saw… those eyes… when you cum…”

“Satoru, please, please. Fuck me. Please.” You beg for him, yanking at his hair now, and he desperately slides up you, as you cup his bruised and cut face, still so beautiful it’s unreal, and you feel that weight on you, feel his body heat pouring through your skin. “Please, Toru. Need you in me.”

“I’ll give you anything.” He shoves inside you then, and you’re screaming, literally screaming at the stretch, at the fill, as your greedy cunt is sucking him right in. “F-fuck, you feel so goddamn perfect, sucking me in s’good.”

“Toru! S’big- ngh I- fucking love your cock, fuck.” He presses on your throat now, squeezing and shoving his cock inside you so deep, to the hilt, you lose oxygen, seeing stars glittering behind your damn eyes.

“Feel me baby girl?” He presses on your stomach then, and you look down, as he moves in and out, seeing a bulge that makes you blush furiously. You just nod, as he still has his other hand on your throat. “Feel me everywhere.”

“I do, Satoru fuck… I do. Everywhere.” You whisper, as he’s choking you tightly, you grip his wrist with one hand, the other clutching to his back, nails digging in again, and he hisses, before pulling back a bit.

“Can you take it hard?” You nod, eagerly, then he exhales, as if he’s been holding back, his consideration touches you, but his cock railing you, ruins you.

“T-T-Toru!” You’re choking out his name, as he’s fucking into you brutally now, as his mad blue eyes dreamily drink your face in, and you lose yourself in them, in Satoru Gojo, as he’s pounding you into the mattress, as he’s taking your breath. You cum so hard you feel like you’re floating, like you’re flying so damn high in the air, and only he brings you back.

Satoru eases his grip on your neck, but now he’s leaning down, pressing one of your thighs up high and fucking even deeper, and you’re close again, already so oversensitive you can’t take it. You’re desperately clinging to his neck, to his shoulders, anywhere and everywhere you can cling to.

“I need… you… forever. Baby. Forever.” He huffs, and his words shock you, as you both had said your love, but…

This is crazy.

Could there be a forever?

You’d do anything to have a forever.

“Yes, Toru, yes… forever. Forever yours. Only you.” You whisper back, your brows drawing together as he’s sweating now, his skin slick as yours is now too, and he’s dripping just a bit, his chest down to your breasts. You’re cumming again, clinging to him so tight, he is groaning as he studies you, so carefully, like you’re the only woman or thing in this world.

“Only me. Only me.” He’s huffing as he works over you, then he’s entwined his hands in yours, your fingers together, and you’re sobbing at how good he feels, as his curved cock drags in your walls. He hisses as they flutter around him, resting his forehead on yours. “I fucking love you.”

“I fucking love you. Toru. You.” Hushed whispers continue, as Toru relentlessly pounds your pussy, and he’s fucking you into another orgasm, you’re so wet you’re slippery, so wet you hear the lewd squishing. He’s kissing you now, his firm lips on yours, uncaring of his cut, he’s brutal in his kiss.

“Mine. Mine to keep. Protect. Fucking breed.” He says now, looking at you manically, and you’re falling off that edge with him, chest heaving, as he’s pressing his hard chests on your lush breasts, as he’s grinding his cock deep against your cervix and you’re screaming out, arching your back.

He’s kissing down your neck now, and you’re shaking violently. “Breed me, Toru, breed me please.”

“Mmm, baby, fuck!” He’s moaning, he’s whimpering, just as you’re whining out pathetically, and he’s grabbing your hips up, shoving in so deep it hurts, but you crave it, your sloppy cunt is milking him as he releases. “Take it baby. Take it.”

“T-Toru! Ngh!” You’re cumming again, as his huge load of thick cum pours in you, and he’s exhaling, his eyes never leaving yours, lidded and fucked out just like your own, as you both whine at how sensitive you are. “Love you. Want your babies.”

“Want em? Want em in you?” You nod, and he keeps pumping that cum in you, clinging to your hands as he’s kissing you, desperately, and you’re gone now, there’s only you and Satoru Gojo.

No world.

You’d do anything for him. Anything to feel this.

Satoru exhales, leaning up a bit, and you frown when you notice he’s busted his lip back open, gently touching it with your thumb. “Fuck I love you.”

“And I love you, Satoru Gojo.” You whisper, and he kisses you again, you both don’t care about the bit of blood, you greedily take his kisses, as he turns you then, pulling you so close against him, clinging to you. “Oh, Satoru…”

“I fucked up shit.” He’s shaking, so you hold him close, shaking your head as you struggle to come down from the climaxes, from the dizzying madness that consumes you, from Satoru Gojo.

“We’ll figure something out. I’ll do whatever it takes.” He glares down at you, his jaw tense, so tense you see a vein popping out. You run a finger down it, as your thigh is over his own, as you’re a tangle of limbs in the messy bed. “I’ll never fucking leave you, Satoru.”

“Never!? Promise me please.” He begs now, and you nod eagerly, earning more of his messy kisses.

“How could I? There’s nothing but you.” He’s gripping you so tightly to him you swear you hear your damn ribs creak, like he can’t get you close enough. You snuggle to his big body, as reality sets in on you both. “We are in deep shit though.”

“Deep shit. Quicksand of shit. But guess what?”

“What?” You whisper, looking up at him, your messy hair being brushed back by his sure touch.

“I’ll do anything for you.”

His words hurt you, as you know he literally means anything. “Don’t try to sacrifice yourself for me! We’ll do it together.”

“You’re my everything. There’s nothing without you.” You feel those sticky hot tears returning as he caresses your face, as you feel his erratic heartbeat against your palm. You feel his desperation, his energy, his need, and it matches your own.

“Then keep your fucking self safe too. Okay!?” He doesn’t answer you, he’s just caressing your hair, in gentle strokes, so soothing. “Satoru don’t do anything stupid, please.”

“I already did, didn’t I?”

You glare now, shaking at your worry, at your anger, at your love. “We can fix it, or I’ll go down for it. It’s worth it to be with you.”

“I’ll not let shit get you. Never baby.” He kisses you again, and you’re falling apart and being put back together in this damn hotel room, and you’re just trying to avoid the reality of tomorrow in his strong arms.

Ao3 chap https://archiveofourown.org/works/56895382/chapters/150274354

#gojo x reader #gojo smut #satoru x reader #gojo satoru #jjk gojo #jujustu kaisen #smut #jjk x reader #gojo x you #gojo angst #lawyer gojo #madamechrissy #take me home tonight

150 notes · View notes

magics-neptunes-things · 10 months

Text

Snowball and Jealousy

Hello everyone!

As chosen in the survey, here is a Christmas story with Leah Williamson! I hope you like it:) I imagined it in the same world as Fire and Ice 1 and 2.

Also it's longer than I first thought.

Happy reading!

TW: Still none.

You started dating Leah a little over a year ago, a few weeks before Christmas. Both felt it was too early to officially introduce yourself to your respective families, so you flew to Norway, your home country, to reunite with your family and spend the holidays with them. That didn’t stop you from thinking about Leah about every secondm and you had to refrain from harassing her with messages. You know very well how much the blonde cares about her family and how much she cherishes the moments spent with them.

This year, though, you’re going to spend Christmas with the Williamsons. You have already met Leah’s parents, brother and grandparents, but it’s true that you have not yet met everyone officially. I mean, that was before you walked into the huge house of one of her aunts, with almost all of the Williamsons. Hearing the noise, you instinctively take back a few steps, despite your hand tenderly entwined in Leah’s. She laughed at you and your sister-in-law patted you on the shoulder.

"Don’t worry, you’ll get used to it" she told you before Leah laid a kiss on your cheek.

"Let’s go find my grandmother" Leah says, and you agree.

It was a long way to get to her. You probably had time to greet everyone in the room before you got to her. You don’t have a large family on your side, your parents have made the choice to have three children because they themselves were only children. So you don’t have any cousins, while Leah has so many that you can’t remember all their names.

"Oh, my favorite, finally!" said the old woman, joyfully, holding out her arms in your direction.

You smile at her and willingly give her a hug letting go of Leah’s hand for the first time since you arrived.

"Well hello to you too Nan" says Leah sarcastically before kissing her grandmother.

You exchange a few words with her, which you appreciate very much. You miss your family when you are in England and she quickly took the role of the grandmother of heart. Which Leah seems to enjoy immensely, despite her teasing.

"Let’s go find our place" Leah said after a few minutes, when her aunt asked everyone to sit down.

You follow her closely and you have no trouble locating your seats, next to Jacob, Leah’s brother and his girlfriend. There you meet new cousins of Leah and you find yourself quickly to be part of their conversation. After the second entrance, you noticed that a girl around you and Leah’ age look in your direction very often. The first times your eyes crossed you thought it must be a coincidence, but with the passing of time you are not so sure.

"Who is it?" you discreetly ask Leah, leaning in her direction.

Leah’s gaze briefly flies in the direction you show her before she rolls with her eyes.

"Hailey, a cousin. We never got along, we only see each other at Christmas"

The answer makes you gently frown, you thought Leah loved every member of her family deeply. Seeing your look, Leah smiles at you and kisses your cheek, whispering that she will explain to you later. You nod again, putting your hand on her leg.

"Christmas games!" Leah’s uncle happily screams after everyone’s entries are over.

A big smile appears on Leah’s face, a smile you know well. The same as when someone offered a game of Fifa, the same one she has before a game of Uno. The one who announces that she will take the competition to heart and who amuses you a lot. Leah’s competitive spirit is known to everyone, as is her bad losing side. It amuses you a lot, especially when you have to cover her with hugs and kisses to cheer her up when she lose.

You smile a little less that said when the draw separates you from her. Luckily you find yourself with Jacob’s girlfriend, Joanna, as well as Hailey. You have unfortunately forgotten the names of other people, except James who is one of the children of his cousins.

"So you’re Leah’s new girlfriend?" Hailey says as you watch Leah’s team thrown into a game of Piccionnary.

"They’ve been together for a year and a half, I wouldn’t use the term new" laughs Joanna, sitting on the other side of you.

You nod and just smile, not taking your blonde out of your eyes. You smile as you see her little dance of joy and you find yourself letting your eyes slide over a particular part of her anatomy when she leans over to take a pen. Of course, this is the time she chooses to look back at you. Her amused smile and arched eyebrow make you understand that she perfectly understood what you were doing. You smile back and shrug, who can blame you for ogling your girlfriend?

"You’re from Norway, right?" asks Hailey

You turn your attention to her to answer her, also answering the questions she asks you about your native country. You could talk about it for hours. You’ve taken Leah twice already there and you can’t wait to leave for a whole week with her at least in January. You have to admit that you get a little lost in your conversation and you wonder why Leah and she don’t get along. She looks pretty nice. You don’t notice that says Leah’s upset look at you from a distance.

When the game is over, Leah quickly makes her way to you and puts her two hands on the armrests of your chair to lean over you.

"Come breathe some fresh air with me?"

"With pleasure" you smile

Leah doesn’t back down when you get up even if she gets up when you do. Your lips ghost hers, causing electric currents throughout your body. Your smile expands and you let her willingly put a kiss on your lips, before grabbing your hand to train you in the snowy garden. All of that, ignoring her cousin with perfection.

Children, dressed from head to toe, run and play, shouting joyfully. A soft smile appears on your face this time, the memories of your winters in Norway coming to mind. Since there are fewer people, you allow yourself to put your two arms around Leah’s waist and let yourself go against her. A year and a half has passed and you still find it frustrating not being able to touch her as much as you would like. But Leah is more of the kind to be discreet without being secret and you obviously respect her choices. On the other hand, you don’t see yourself going into an intense kissing session in public.

Leah puts her arms around you and puts several kisses on your face.

"Great victory" you do mischievously.

"As if it was going to happen otherwise" Leah replies with a goofy grin.

"I’m disappointed though, I won’t need to give you dozens of kisses to make you forget your defeat."

Leah laughs and you look up at her with a smile on her face. You love her laughter and being the reason of it.

"So, what’s the deal with Hailey?" you ask after a few minutes.

"Nothing special except she spent her teenage years flirting with my girlfriends or crushes and trying to steal them from me." sighs Leah, frowning. "It worked one time"

"Oh" you mumble while playing with her sweater. "She even tried with Jordan?"

"She never met Jordan. The first time she was in Australia and then Jordan was in her family. I didn’t really want them to meet, to be honest."

"Why?" you ask while frowning.

"I didn’t particularly want to see my girlfriend get picked up by my cousin."

The answer is logical, but your question involved something else. Leah has always been very honest with you about her relationship with Jordan. But you have to admit that to see that some people always seem to regret their relationship while you don’t hide yours… It’s painful. It obviously has nothing to do with a confidence you wouldn’t have in Leah, quite the contrary. You have complete and complete confidence in her. But your mind doesn’t wait à second to play with you. Are you less important on Leah’s life than Jordan was?

"Why am I here then?" you whisper after a moment of silence, trying to ignore the strange sensation in the pit of your belly.

"I thought she would have changed over time" sighed Leah "I was wrong."

Your insecurities give way to misunderstanding this time. You rise your eyes again, so that you can observe her at best.

"What are you talking about?" you ask while frowning.

"Oh please Babe, don’t tell me you didn’t notice her little game"

"We were just talking about Norway?"

You are lost and you look at Leah without understanding what she means. The pretty blonde looks at you a few seconds before smiling and rolling her eyes, realizing you aren't playing with her.

"It’s true that you have trouble realizing when someone is interested in you, I practically had to jump on you in a hospital bed for you to realize it"

You pout, even if your memories of that moment are intact in your memory. Like your first kiss, for that matter.

"When someone talks to you looking into your eyes, leaning in your direction with a hand on your arm or your knee, it’s an seduction attempt, Y/N."

"Oh."

Leah rolls her eyes again and smile before biting the corner of your jaw with a playful air on her face. You shove her elbow playfully, trying to escape her hold. You finally succeed, running away. Your feet slide on the snow trampled by others before you, but you manage to get away from Leah, passing the corner of the house. Knowing that you will not be able to walk away for a very long time, you take advantage of the few seconds that you have to take a handful of snow and turn it into a ball.

When Leah appears at the corner of the building, you send her the snowball, aiming a little too well since it arrives in full head. Fortunately, you didn’t squeeze the ball too much and the snow spread quickly in all directions and doesn't hurt her. It doesn’t seem to soften Leah, who stops dead and looks you right in the eyes.

"You’re so dead, Darling."

You swallow. You're so dead.

"I’m sorry?"

She resumes her race to catch you and you try to keep her in distance but she managed to catch you after a few meters, tackling you in the snow. The cold and humidity make you squeek, but it doesn’t stop Leah straddling your waist.

"I thought the Norwegians weren’t afraid of the cold?" said Leah maliciously, leaning over you.

"I never said anything about the snow getting in my clothes"

Leah laughs and throws you a handful of snow in the face to make a good figure and not show how much she has a soft spot for you. She has a reputation to uphold after all. But that doesn’t stop her from helping you rise up and take you back against her right after. You sigh at ease while putting yourself against her, your face in the hollow of her neck.

"I’m glad you’re here" said Leah after a few seconds, her lips in your hair.

"Yeah?"

"Mhm" she hums softly. "Just remind me to make sure to keep you away from Hailey next time."

"Will I really need to remind you?"

Your request is made with a small laugh and you lift yourself from her to look at her with amusement. Jealousy is a trait that you didn’t prepare for in her. But since you consider it a proof of love, it’s far from disturbing you. She’s jealous, but not so possessive. The difference is important to you.

"No, certainly not" Leah laughs before kissing your lips. "You’re mine."

"Yours"

You barely have time to exchange a new kiss that a cry of child sounds near you, making you both turn. Covered in snow from head to toe, James seems satisfied to find Leah.

"Lee! Jacob said the Arsenal players suck and then he threw me in the snow!"

"What?! I’m coming!"

Without hesitation, Leah hurries to join James and the Arsenal defenders in the snowball battle that began outside the house. When you come back with Leah’s coat, she’s already soaked, but she accepts it with pleasure. Her gloves too. And since you’re here, she takes the opportunity to steal a kiss from you before training you in battle. After all, it’s also your duty to defend Arsenal, right?

#woso x reader #woso imagine #leah williamson #leah williamson x reader #leah williamson imagine

517 notes · View notes

kookslastbutton · 1 year

Text

Too Late to Dream ༓ jjk (m) l ch. VI

✑ Summary: You did it. You married your college professor. You even bought a house together. Against all odds, everything had fallen into place. But after two years of marriage, you begin feeling something was missing. You want a baby but your husband can’t say the same.

Pairing: economics professor!jungkook x fem!artist!reader

AU/Genre: angst, smut, fluff, marriage au, age gap, series

Rating: M, 18+

Word Count: 6,192

Warnings: 8-year age gap, mentions of professor-student relationship (oc was a Masters student), kook gets pissed, jk mother is asdhjf!, mommy issues, lots of family drama/in-laws, fighting, manipulative parent, pent-up issues/desires, jk has daddy issues, jk being good hubby to oc, mild sexting, sexual content

Sexual warnings: bl*wj*b, jk c*mes on her t*tt*es, d*rty talk

Now Playing: Make It Right, Tryna Be, Infinity, It Will Rain, Heaven+

A/N: um so this got over 6k which i know isn't amazing but for me its big deal okay?! haha! Anyway Part VI here we go! No flashbacks in this chapter because of ch.V buuut, I have a little gift for you and me. Hope you enjoy!! 💞 also pls vote if youd be so kind 😙

<< ch. V ༓ ch. VII >> | series masterlist

Living in the country for over thirty years, the Jeons were known to be excruciatingly slow and cautious drivers. The town was tiny, roads were narrow, and no one was ever in a rush to get anywhere apart from maybe the farmers market.

Once when Jungkook first got his license he took one hand off the steering wheel and his mother almost had a heart attack, saying it was “reckless of him to put them in danger”. It was from that moment forward that Jungkook always made sure to drive at 10 and 2 or 9 and 3 when his mother was in the car. His father on the other hand didn’t care what he did as long as he didn’t go above 30 mph.

Jungkook was counting his lucky stars when he finally got his own car and the chance to move to the city where he could drive how he damn well pleased–responsibly of course. He had recently finished his Master’s studies and was offered a job as an economist in a major medical corporation. The only catch was that he’d have to relocate to Seoul which ended up being more than fine with him.

His parents moaned and groaned that he wasn’t sticking around but his mind was made up. He moved out of his parent’s tiny town one late June and headed to the city where life moved to a whole new beat.

Ten years later, Jungkook finds himself gripping the steering wheel with two sweaty hands again. Kudos to his parents who have been telling him which way to turn and how fast or slow to go for the past fifteen minutes. He honestly should have picked a brunch spot closer to home to avoid all the madness. Walking would have done them good.

“I’ll never get used to how you drive down here,” Mrs. Jeon grumbles from the back seat. “All these sharp turns and six lanes of traffic going 50-plus miles an hour. It’s a wonder you haven’t all gotten in an accident yet. It’s like I always say, the slower the better. You city folks just don’t get it.”

Jungkook peers in his rearview mirror before signaling to switch lanes. “We can’t afford to go too slow out here Mom. This is a highway and dropping down in speed will cause a safety hazard just as bad, if not worse. Environments are different out here than in the woods.”

As Jungkook merges to the right, Mr. Jeon watches the surrounding cars from the back seat window. “Ah son, son, son!” He hollers and reaches for the ceiling handle.

“What? What happened?” Jungkook asks with panic. He flickers his eyes to the mirror again to spot his father's distress.

Mr. Jeon slowly releases the handle and lets out a lengthy sigh. “It's okay now, we’re good. You did good son. You moved over with so little space I thought you were going to hit the car now behind us."

"I told you it's a mad house out here!" Mrs. Jeon adds, tone thick. Jungkook puts his eyes back on the road in front of him and does his best to ignore the irritation bubbling within him.

"I know what I'm doing," he says. "I've lived here for ten years so can you guys please trust me? And stop with the driving advice and yelling every time I do something."

"We're just trying to help Kookie."

"Well, you're not alright?" The snap in his voice has Jungkook's parents sulking back in their seats in silence. "I want us to get to the restaurant safely and I can't do that when you're both shouting at me! So please just let me do the driving. Thank you."

God, if one more person calls him Kookie in that condescending tone he's going to lose it! Kookie was his childhood nickname but for some reason, it stuck to him like glue until he was friggin' 22 years old. He absolutely hates it and the only person remotely allowed to call him by it is his wife because she makes anything sound like honey to his ears.

The next five minutes are nothing but awkward silence and the sound of tires running on hard cement. Jungkook checks his phone—there's still a good ten minutes left according to the GPS. He moves to turn the radio on to break the eeriness of the drive when an incoming call pops on his car screen.

"Who's that? Who's calling?" Mr. Jeon pipes up.

"It's __." Jungkook hits the answer button. "Hey honey! You're on speaker." He smiles a big, wide grin that says nothing less than he misses you.

"Hi! I'm on my lunch break and thought I'd give you guys a call. I'm stopping at the grocery store tonight, after work. Anything you need?"

“Some booze would be nice!” Mr. Jeon echos and looks at his wife who merely shakes her head. He hasn’t had a drink in twenty years due to his high blood pressure, yet he’s still making the same damn jokes. “Got any Soju? Or maybe Bokbunja?” He chuckles at Mrs. Jeon’s sour face.

Jungkook pays his dad no mind and replies to you. “Uhm….we're low on milk again. I drank the last one yesterday.”

"You went through all those gallon jugs in a week?!" You'd think you'd be used to the amount of dairy your husband packs away but every time, it shocks you as much as the first. You married a milk-lovin’ machine.

Jungkook chuckles. "I'm sorry. I can get them for you if you want. We're on our way to get brunch, then hitting the bookstore for Dad, and after we'll swoop back home. I can pick it up along the way.”

“No need, I’m already going out later so I’ll get it. Anything else?”

“There’s nothing else I can think of. How’s work going?” He’s hoping it’s not hectic given the fact that last week was an absolute sandstorm. He distinctively remembers you coming home with nothing more than tired feet and dark circles under your eyes. He drew you a bath that night.

“Eh, so-so. I have a meeting with my boss later but besides that, it’s the usual. I wish I could have come to brunch with you guys. I feel bad I’m missing it.” Well, you do and you don’t. If Jungkook was planning on talking to his mom about the happenings of last night you wanted to be around for support but it was also a matter that should be between a mother and her son.

“Us too, but we’ll see you ton–shit!” Jungkook slams on the break when he sees he’s about to crash into a black SUV. Everyone’s seatbelts lock at the sudden jerk. “Sorry, sorry!” He checks the mirror to find his parents clinging to their seatbelts.

“Are you guys okay?! Jungkook?!”

He scans all around him to find rows and rows of cars all trying to merge into each other’s lanes. Some are coming from the exit nearby whereas others are trying to squeeze through people in hopes to get ahead.

Dammit, Jungook cruses to himself.

“Yeah, we’re good honey. Everything’s okay but we’ve hit a traffic jam. I’m not sure why since it’s literally 11:40 a.m on a Wednesday but looks like we’re going to be stuck here for a bit.”

“We’d never have this problem at home.” Jungkook hears his mother mumbling under her breath to which his father replies with a nodding of his head. “If it weren’t for all this nonsense we’d be there by now.”

“Absolutely. We’d be there fifteen minutes ago,” his father adds with his hands in the air. “Isn’t there some kind of way you can get around this son, like a shortcut?”

Ah yes, shortcuts on the highway. Why didn’t he think of that? Let him just push the button that says flight mode and–no! Having enough, Jungkook holds his foot on the break and twists his body around to face his parents.

“Alright listen to me right now. This is not Tiny Town where there are a million dirt roads that pop from anywhere and all seem to lead to one other. Everyone drives at least seventy out here and that’s just the way it is because this..." He gestures outside the windshield. "This is what happens! We all get stuck in this congested funnel! But if you two can think of a way to get out of here that doesn’t involve attempting to bulldoze other cars, I’m all ears. Until then we’re going to sit here and talk about the weather because there's nothing else we can do!"

Jungkook looks back and forth between his parents. Mrs. Jeon simply stares outside her window while his dad gives a slow nod in understanding.

"Is it really that bad?"

Jungkook relaxes his body back to face the front when he hears your voice. "Yeah, it's pretty bad __." He lets out a long, exasperated sigh. This is going to be a very long day.

"Nice out today. Mind if I roll down the window?" The traffic hasn't got any better and it was starting to get stuffy in the car. Mr. Jeon desperately needed some fresh air in his face.

"Mhm yeah, go ahead."

"How about some music? Find out what's on the radio will you." He sticks his arm out the window, letting the gentle breeze hit his skin. When the first song blares through the speakers, Jungkook's mother breaks her deafening silence.

"Dear god! What music is this?"

Mr. Jeon immediately perks up. "It's PSY! Turn it up! Turn it up, boy!" Jungkook appeases his father's wishes and turns the knob a few more notches. "Oppa Gangnam Style! Eae eae eae e, sexy lady!"

Hearing his dad singing at the top of his lungs has Jungkook rubbing the side of his head. It's not that he sounded bad but he was singing so loud that everyone around them started pointing, laughing, or rolling up their own windows. "Dad, people are going to get annoyed. Take it down a little."

Deeply immersed in the song, Mr. Jeon continues singing regardless of his son's request. "Op, op, op, op, oppa Gangnam Style!" He starts rocking in his seat which causes a few middle schoolers in the car next to them to pop out their phones.

"Dad!" Jungkook hollers when he notices the kids taking pictures. If doesn't put an end to this now, his father's face is going to be trending all over the internet with god knows what filter.

"Op, op, op, op, on on on on!"

"Dad stop!" He tries again, this time turning the music down. Mrs. Jeon attempts to calm her husband down too, placing a hand on one of his arms but it doesn't take much for it to be ripped out of her grasp. Mr. Jeon ends up nearly whacking his wife in the face due to all his energetic dancing.

"Erotic sexy lady! Oppa Gangnam Sty–hey! Song wasn't done yet!" Jungkook's dad never looked so offended in his life. If he had adjusted his gaze just a few inches to the left he'd see the group of kids, the ones taking photos earlier, giggling to one another. But he was too pissed at his son for crashing his party that it went to the wayside.

"Honey, you were causing a disturbance," Mrs. Jeon says.

"A disturbance? In this traffic jam, I'm the disturbance?" He refuses to believe he's the annoyance when they've been in the middle of a highway, moving at 5 mph for the last hour. PSY has recently become his favorite singer and not enjoying himself would have been an absolute tragedy in his opinion. "It's all of you who should be thanking me for offering some shred of entertainment at times like these."

"The entire population of South Korea is going to be thanking you then." Jungkook creeps forward as soon as the car in front of him moves up a ways. Finally moving again, he hums.

"Hey!" An abrupt voice calls from a slight distance. Two teenage boys pull up in a Jaguar, greasy grins on their faces. "Great singing Grandpa! Really know how to move!" The one in the passenger seat flashes his phone playing a video of Jungkook's dad online.

"Wha–how–What?! You delete that right now!" Mr. Jeon is stunned, tripping over his words at the shock of himself actually being the center of the internet. The video is unexpectedly clear.

"Just ignore them, Dad." Jungkook rolls up all the windows in the car and inches up the best he can to get the teenagers out of direct sight.

"But-but how did they do that so fast? It hasn't even been five minutes yet!"

"It only takes seconds, honey," Mrs. Jeon sighs, realizing her husband has become famous over a re-rendition of a PSY song. Of all things, it had to be that.

"I'm starving."

"Me too."

Jungkook glances at the time–2:40p.m. It's now been three hours of sitting in traffic and they've only moved about ten miles. What on earth is congesting the highway this much?

"Maybe we should take one of these exits." His dad scrolls through the map on his phone. "Says there are a few restaurants down exit 6A."

Jungkook considers the idea. He wants to get off the highway, yes, but so does everyone else. The exit his dad is talking about is off the far right lane which means he's going to need to shove in front of everyone's way.

"You sure it's a good place? Wherever it is you're looking?" The reason why he asks is that his dad is notorious for leading them into the most ruin down places. The last time he was in charge of directions, they ended up in front of an abandoned pizza shop.

Mrs. Jeon takes the phone from her husband's hand and swipes through the photos of a quaint restaurant. "It's not bad," she concludes. "And if it means we can get out of this mess, then I'm with your father on this one."

Two against one. Jungkook turns his signal on and waits for someone to let him over. He earns a few honks when he manages to squeeze his nose over but does his best to give an apologetic wave.

After a few more lane changes he gets in the exit lane. He isn't the only one planning to take exit 6B though, being that there are at least twenty other cars waiting in line.

"Maybe we were better off back where we were. All these people want to get off the same place. If we keep going there's bound to be another exit with far less traffic."

Really? Jungkook feels himself ticking again. After all that shoving to get over here and this is what he gets? No, he's not moving back over. They're going to wait in this stupid lane until it gets them to where they originally agreed.

"We just got here and we're not moving back anywhere. This lane should clear up in less time than it would take to go back on the main highway," Jungkook says. "Also, I probably don't need to clarify this but, we're not going to make it to that bookstore you wanted, Dad."

"It's fine, son. We'll go another day."

Which means tomorrow, Jungkook half grumbles to himself. His parents are here for another day after all and he knows his father well enough to know that "another day" really means the closest day possible.

Despite its size, the restaurant his parents choose is charming with its floor-to-ceiling wood paneling and giant, bay windows. The odd hanging plant is spread throughout the open dining space as well, perfectly setting the mood of serenity.

The restaurant only seems to hold about a dozen people inside, however. So thinking it is best to avoid sitting in an overly crowded space, Jungkook asks for one of the tables outside.

“Oh now this is lovely,” his mother praises, pulling her chair up to the table. Jungkook can’t describe how relieved he is to finally hear something positive after hours of nonstop grumbling.

Mr. Jeon takes a seat next to his wife and across from his son. “I just saw someone get Samgyeopsal and it was huge! Let’s get that to share.”

His enthusiasm is short-lived when the scrunched-up face from his wife says she's not a fan. “That's too much food! We still have to be hungry for dinner so we can eat with __."

"Mom's right," Jungkook agrees reluctantly. "__'s stopping at the grocery store after work so we can prep for dinner tonight. I know traffic slowed us down so we're eating at a weird time but it's better we go with something light."

"Oh well, we can always take some to go! Surely __ will enjoy some beautifully grilled pork!" Jungkook's father is adamant. He wants nothing more than a heavy meal after being stuck in the car all morning.

"__ doesn't like pork Dad. And we all know as soon as we get a whiff of it cooking there's not going to be any leftovers."

"Alright, alright," his dad concedes. "I guess I'll try their bibimbap. What are you having hon?"

Jungkook checks his phone messages while his parents make small talk over the menu. You texted him earlier to see how traffic was holding up and he only able to get back to you minutes ago.

Wifey ❤️ : So I'm guessing you haven't talked to your mom yet?

Jungkook: No, haven't brought it up. She seems fine though with the way she's been acting. It doesn't take much for her to go back to her usual self

Wifey ❤️: Her usual self being...?

Jungkook: You know, really particular.

Wifey ❤️: So she's complaining again. I'm sorry 😞

Jungkook: When I was talking with her on the phone before we left, she was much more careful about what she was saying. I expected it to still be that way now. Must have been a mood.

Wifey ❤️: Sounds like she wasn't sure how you'd be reacting after what happened last night. Maybe she's just reverting to back what she's used to because she's unsure what else to do or say. I'd still try finding a way to talk to her. Does it seem tense?

Jungkook: Yeah, you have a point. But Mom's also had a good way of sweeping things under the rug. It's not tense but it's just uncomfortably normal?

Wifey ❤️: Hmm, strange. And your dad's fine?

Jungkook: Honey...have you been on any social media in the last half hour?

Wifey ❤️: No, why?

Jungkook: Might wanna check. We had a little incident while in traffic. I'm still in shock honestly 😅

Jungkook waits for you to find the video of his dad. He already had the guys blowing up his phone from it so he's surprised none of them at least forwarded it to you.

Wifey ❤️: oh my god! Jungkook what happened?! 😂 I hope you're prepared for your students to be all over this

Jungkook: oh shit, that didn't even cross my mind 😩 also it's not funny honey! Listening to my dad singing eae e sexy lady was traumatizing enough. Now I have to see and hear it every time I pop open my phone or some teen punks show it to me!

Wifey ❤️: Aw Kookie, they're just being kids...try not to overthink. And you know those videos come and go. Your dad will be at the bottom of the chain by next week. Until then keep him away from PSY 😅 But I'm sorry you're having a day, I love you 🥺

Jungkook: I MISS YOU SO MUCH 😭

Wifey ❤️: [sent an image]

Fuck! Jungkook chokes on his spit when he sees a blurry close up of your cleavage. Thankfully his parents are still too occupied by the menu that they didn't notice.

Jungkook: sexy af but this isn't the time to be sexting me baby!

He nearly saves the photo if it weren't for the fact that he already had an album dedicated to very sensual *ahem erotic* photos of you. You had let him take them himself —best motherfuckin' birthday ever.

Wifey ❤️: oh adhjjhj, sorry!! That was an accident. I'm such a klutz. This is what I meant... [sent an image]

"What's going on over there?" Jungkook merely glimpses at the new image before whipping his head up, hearing his mother's, sharp tone.

"It's just __. She's asking about groceries again."

With slightly narrowed eyes, Mrs. Jeon continues. "We're about to order if you're ready."

Dammit. He'll have to reply to you later. Jungkook swiftly pockets the phone. "Okay yeah I'm good to go."

"This is delicious," Mr. Jeon says, patting his mouth with a napkin. "Best bibimbap I've had in a long time."

"That's great Dad." Jungkook stirs his noodles.

"Ah, where's the restroom around here?" He asks the waitress as she walks by. She tells him it's in the restaurant, all the way to the back. Mr. Jeon pushes his chair from the table and excuses himself. "All that broth has me needing to go."

"Yes yes, just go." Why his father needed to explain himself every time he needed to use the restroom is beyond him. Jungkook peers at his mother, taking her time eating her own bowl of noodles–they ended up ordering the same thing. "How is it?" he asks.

"It's good."

"Not too spicy?"

"No, it's mild."

Jungkook gathers more noodles on his chopstick. He freezes halfway when he sees his mother eyeing him intensely. "Everything okay?"

Mrs. Jeon folds her hands in her lap. "It's occurred to me that we still have an elephant in the room. I was hoping we'd be able to talk about it while your father browsed the bookstore. But plans changed."

And here he thought his mother had been playing down last night when really she was biding her time. "You know Dad's gonna be back in like ten minutes right?"

Mrs. Jeon nods. "I know it's not the most convenient of times or places, but I'm afraid if we delay it won't get discussed."

"Okay." Jungkook sets his chopsticks down. "Well...where do you want to start?"

"An apology would be nice." Her voice is mellow but the words are a clear demand rather than an offer. Of course, he wants to apologize to her for all the things he accused her of last night. But he wasn't expecting her to be this forward with it, especially since she was guilty of plenty herself. "I'm waiting Kookie," she coos, taking a sip of water.

Jungkook knits his eyebrows in response, unsure of what he's hearing. His mother looks far too relaxed about this whole thing. He decides to give her the benefit of the doubt. "You're right," he starts. "I'm sorry for what I said last night. I shouldn't have spoken that way and I'm sorry for making you leave. I think you and Dad showing up all a sudden threw me off and I reacted poorly."

Mrs. Jeon cracks a tight smile and reaches for her son's hand. "Thank you, Jungkook. I accept your apology." She gives his hand a squeeze before moving to pick up her chopsticks. "Now that we got that settled let's talk about the reunion. I'm thinking about talking to–"

What....the fuck? His mom did not just glide over this whole issue. She did not just put everything on him. And she did not just bring up that damn reunion again, which he's made very clear he wants nothing a part of. "Is that all you wanted? For me to make my amends with you?"

"What else would there be Kookie?" She scoffs, eyes wide.

"Goddamn it." He struggles to maintain a hushed voice. "Can you please stop calling me that? And what the hell do you mean 'what else would there be'? I'm not trying to put the blame on you but there's a good amount you should be saying to me too."

"What things are you referring to? Don't tell me this is about the reunion again. Look, whatever it is that I said was because I just want to see you more. And no more swearing. You know I don't like that kind of language."

"How can you be like this?" Jungkook can't stop himself. He figured his mom and he would have a better, heart-to-heart than this. It makes his skin crawl that his mother continues to play the victim. "It's genuinely shocking me how....do you even love me?"

Mrs. Jeon pauses at that. "Of course, I love you Jungkook. Why–why would you ask that?" She blinks back the slightest hint of tears forming along the edge of her eyes. Never in a million years did she think her son would doubt something this crucial.

"I feel like–"

"Feel what? What is it?"

"I feel like you care more about what I can do for you than you do me, as your son." Jungkook sniffs. This is a lot harder for him to say than he imagined. "There's been so many times that you've–"

"Don't say this honey! I care about you very much!" She reaches for his hand again but he yanks it away. "What are you trying to tell me?" His mother waits for him to form the rest of the sentence.

Jungkook hesitates to look at her straight on because behind what appears to be concerned eyes is disbelief. She isn't taking any of this seriously. It's written all over her face, tone, and all the way down to the way she's focusing on an answer rather than his inability to comfortably talk to her.

"What have I done so many times?"

"Honestly at this point, what haven't you done?" With an icy glare, Jungkook can't hold himself back anymore. The pot that's been brewing, deep in the darkest parts of him is finally overflowing and it's not going to be pretty to behold. "Do you realize how many times you chose your job, your status, and even your friends over me? And you make Dad go along with literally anything! Is it so horrible for someone to say no to you?!"

The couple next to them shoot uncomfortable looks his way, whispering to each other. Jungkook ignores it and starts counting with his fingers.

"Never once have you ever taken responsibility for showing up uninvited, nagging me about this that, and the other thing, making backhanded comments about my life choice, and most of all pretending our relationship is peachy fine. Well, I'm sorry mom, I'm thirty-four years old and I don't need to live by your rules! Our relationship is barely hanging by a thread and being quite real, it's __ and Dad who are the ones clinging to that thread, making sure it doesn't completely snap."

Mrs. Jeon opens her mouth to interject but Jungkook doesn't allow it to happen. It's not exactly intentional that he's pouring out so much in the middle of people's lunch. Still, he's been shoved over a steep cliff, head first.

"I'm sorry mom, I don't know how many times I need to say it. I don't enjoy any bit of this. It's just been a long stretch of–"

"That's enough! I don't want to hear any more." Mrs. Jeon immediately grabs her purse and twists her neck every which way. "Where's your father? I want to leave."

"Mom I'm trying to talk to you! Why won't you let me talk?"

His mother doesn't reply. She doesn't look at him. It's the silent treatment, Jungkook concludes–it's fucking irritating. "I'm not trying to be hurtful," he says, forcing himself to calm down. "Mom look at me."

She doesn't move.

It only takes seconds for their waitress to near her way up to the table with anxious steps. "I'm sorry to be doing this but unfortunately, we've received a few complaints of a disturbance out here." The young girl clasps her hands. "To ensure all our guests are comfortable we're going to need to ask you to take your conversation elsewhere. I'm really sorry."

Fuck. How embarrassing. Jungkook clears his throat and stands up from his seat. "We understand and are genuinely sorry for the commotion. We'll pay at the front and be on our way. Thank you for waiting our table."

The young girl gives a nervous smile and retreats inside the restaurant. Jungkook makes a note to give her a generous tip.

"Hey, what's going on out here?" Mr. Jeon rushes over, hair blowing over due to the breeze. "I heard there was some inconsiderate party out here airing out their dirty laundry for all to see. I tell you, people these days don't know what privacy means anymore!" He shakes his head and takes a seat.

"Get up Dad we're leaving."

"But I'm not done my–––oh shit." Mr. Jeon clenches his teeth. "You two?"

Mrs. Jeon gets up from her chair, still wordless, and walks towards the parking lot. "I'll get this Dad." Jungkook stops his father from pulling out his wallet. "It is best if you go try to ease Mom. I don't think she'll be talking to me for a while."

Mr. Jeon puts a hand on his son's shoulder. It's his way of offering comfort. "You're mother has made things difficult for you, Jungkook. I'll try getting through to her. In the meantime don't let this eat you up. It's been a long time coming."

Jungkook doesn't get home until quarter past six. The drive home was better than the drive to the restaurant, but hitting the notorious five o'clock traffic slowed them down once more. He also had to drop his parents at their hotel which was no easy task. His mother barely gave him a glance before hopping out of the car. The amount of guilt settling in his gut isn't going away any time soon.

"Hey." Jungkook finds you searching through the kitchen cupboard. "I hope you're okay with spice tonight! I got this really awesome–oh baby what's wrong?" You stop what you're doing when you see your husband come up behind you with sunken eyes. He wraps his larger arms around you, desperately needing your scent.

"I blew it," he croaks. "She's so mad at me."

"I'm sorry Jungkook. I'm sorry I couldn't be there." You turn in his arms to pull him into a full embrace. His nose tickles the side of your neck but you don't laugh. "You wanna tell me?"

Jungkook takes your hand and sits you both on the couch in the living room. "The morning started out rough with three hours of traffic and the two of them in the back seat, telling me where and how I should drive. Then my dad got unexpectedly famous off a PSY song. We finally got to some restaurant about half an hour west of here before 3pm. Everything was going okay until dad went to the bathroom."

"Okay," you say, scooting closer beside him. You rub small circles on his upper back as he leans forward on his spread-apart knees. "What happened?"

"Mom suggested we talk about last night so I said sure." You watch as Jungkook fiddles with his hands. "But she didn't actually care about a conversation or what I had to say. All she wanted, all she expected, was for me to apologize to her so we'd be okay again. It all came out after that and I feel so horrible about it. We ended up getting kicked out of the restaurant too."

"Jungkook..."

"I tried __. I wanted to be patient and to be a good son but she can't even look at me right now." He falls back on the couch, staring at the blank wall in front. "Dad's convinced it was bound to happen."

"You are a good son, Jungkook." You comb a few strands of his soft, ebony hair. He closes his eyes as you do. "You're mom's the one who needs to readjust her view."

"I never thought I'd yell at my mom about all that stuff. And certainly not in public where everyone is trying to have a pleasant lunch. I'm a grown-ass adult and I should have had better control of myself."

You settle into his inner shoulder, laying a hand on his chest. "Even grown adults have limits and your mom's far surpassed those limits. Don't blame yourself for this."

"Dad said the same thing."

"Well, that's two against one."

Jungkook smiles. Two against one, that's where he got that from. Not that you're the first person to use the phrase but he never used it as regularly until you moved in together.

"I missed you so much today. I don't deserve you."

You cock your head up as quick as the words fly from his mouth. "Don't you dare say things like that! You're a good man despite how awful your mother treats you." You lean your face near his, eyes wandering deep into his dark brown ones. "If you're not otherwise too tired, I'm going to show you how much I love you."

Jungkook opens his lids at that–apparently not too tired. You smirk and get off the couch.

"Here?" His classic doe-eyes peer down at your kneeled position. Seeing you settle this perfectly between his muscular thighs triggers an intense blood rush that goes straight to his dick. Jungkook didn't think he was going to get horny tonight but here he was with his half-harden length in your hands in the middle of the living room.

"Mhm." You position yourself just enough for him to have a clear view of your tits. You had taken both your shirt and bra off before starting. You know how your husband likes it. "That okay with you?"

Jungkook groans when you grip his cock harder, gliding it from the base to the tip in repeated motions. "Fuck yeah. It's more than okay." You giggle at how quickly your husband gets in the mood. He thinks you're the bitch in the bedroom? You quicken your movements.

"Oh shit this feels so good." He grips the couch cushion, keeping his focus on you. "Need that gorgeous mouth wrapped around me baby, please. Shit–"

You honor your husband's requests and trace your tongue from the base of his cock all the way up to his tip. Once there, you suck lightly before taking him in whole.

"That's it. Take my cock, fuck." Jungkook goes on to praise you as you bottom out. You gag a little at first being that you haven't done this in what....weeks? Damn. Whatever happened to the days when you'd literally go down on each other every day?

"We need to get you reacquainted with my cock honey," he teases, bucking his hips forward to push himself further into your mouth. "All these weeks without my cock in your mouth has you gagging all over me. Been it's been too long hasn't it?"

"Mm," is the only thing you reply with, the weight of his thick length dragging back and forth on your tongue. By now your pussy is pulsating like crazy and you're tempted to just get up and fuck yourself on him. But tonight was about your husband–you're going to make sure of it. And Jungkook loves nothing more than getting head with your bare tits in full view, obviously.

A few sucks later and Jungkook starts fucking himself into your mouth. They began as soft, needy bucks of his hips but now they're rough, full-force thrusts. His length shoves to the back of your throat and you moan desperately around him. "Did you miss my cock baby? I bet you did. My sexy wife....you're mine and you're gonna make me come, aren't you? Fuck yeah, you are."

Your eyes water as you continue to take him, hallowing your cheeks the best you can. Jungkook has his eyes screwed shut and sweat dripping from his forehead. Your panties are so fucking soaked right now and your nipples are defiantly hard from sheer arsousal.

"God I'm so close baby. You're mouth is---fuck I don't even have the words. It's fucking magic! And your tits are so hot from this angle. Kinda reminds me of what you sent to me earlier. Can I come on them? I'm so close." Jungkook takes your broken moans as a yes and starts ramming into you two more times before pullout and covering your breasts with warm liquid. "Fuck fuck fuck," he grunts, spilling himself on you.

What a mess. You look down at yourself. What a motherfuckin' mess and you love it. Jungkook pulls you into a passionate kiss, tongue rolling with yours in heavenly harmony. "Thank you for this," he says between kisses. "I'll help you wash up, I promise."

"Mm Jungkook," you pant. "I think I need you inside me."

Hey, he got his dick sucked and he creamed your tits–it's mama's turn now, or excuse you–wifey.

A/N: this got nasty whoops. not sorry. Anyway LMK what you think, thanks for reading! 💞 also pls vote if youd be so kind

Masterlist

Taglist:

@frieschan @oldermenluverrr @tatamicc @kookswifesblog @llallaaa @sunnybyeol @namtaeh @exactlygreatcoffee @whipwhoops @yoongisducky @ktnj91 @junecat18 @thvlover7 @yoongiworshiper @ellesalazar @monbebe234-blog @parkinglot-nights @borahaexoxo @hobiswhore @kimseokjinbangtan @jjk97091 @mk-id @blueberry711 @givemethemaknaes16 @iammartian07 @jjkluver7 @itsdingdong @jiminshi20 @sweet-sourhotcoco @lubtou @lovingkoalaface @starsinsky1999 @rockstarrgyu @chaconnelatte @kaithezaftig @skzthinkr @babystarcandykookie @glossyyyymin @siudema @justanotherkpopstanlol @sh1nedreamsm1le7

P.S. I'm sorry but I'm not sure if I'm able to tag all of you!

no reposting, copying, or translating my work– © kookslastbutton

#bangtanbathhouse #jungkook smut #jungkook fluff #jungkook x reader #jungkook angst #bts smut #bts x reader #bts imagines #bts fanfic #bts au #fic:toolatetodream #kookslastbutton

650 notes · View notes

liittleemiixeer · 1 month

Text

renato's route in wtc is so painstakingly beautiful, my heart bleeds for them. especially if nova is loyal to the others, that shit is on another level of angstiness...

[long rant ahead, as per usual lol]

This specific route and path (add moon heiress nova on top of that cus im a saddist) makes their relationship intense, fraught with emotional turmoil, and filled with moral ambiguity. However, it's so shocking to see stoic and composed renato succumb to anything nova asks him and even change his view on the Church. The main reason for that happening being, precisely, nova

Their connection is one of quiet desperation, forged in the concequences of a crumbling belief system. Both are torn between their deep-seated loyalty to the Church, which has shaped their entire lives, and their growing recognition that the Church's actions are deeply flawed. Nova, struggling with her own identity as a witch and spy, finds herself increasingly drawn to the priest, not only because he represents the faith she once held dear but also because he mirrors her own internal conflict. But she doesn't understand that renato's own change of mind was because of her. She was powerful enough to open his eyes without even sharing her thoughts explicitly. Her presence (no pun intended lol) alone awoke those doubts within him (rightfully so imo).

They are both painfully aware that their bond is forbidden, not just because of his vows as a priest and her role as a time catcher, but because it represents a betrayal of the very institution that has defined them. In addition, when he kneels before her to get closer to one another, he's symbolically placing himself on an equal level with her, rejecting the hierarchical structure that typically places him above Others, most probably. It's an act of humility, but also one of defiance against the constraints of his role as a priest. His disregard for his vow in this moment indicates that he is prioritizing his personal feelings and their connection over the rules and expectations of the Church. He even offered to pray together in the last update, fully aware that it's forbidden for Others to pray in churches. He was so needy for that contact with nova in this scene, he began sobbing in her arms. OH GOD GIVE ME STRENGTH!!!

They are irresistibly drawn to each other, finding in one another a reflection of their own doubts and hopes. Yet it's so painful to see their relationship oscillate between moments of tenderness and cold detachment, as both struggle with the knowledge that their love could destroy them. Renato's earlier confession about his doubts could be a pivotal moment, deepening their connection but also complicating it further, as nova now has to decide whether to trust him with the full truth that she has been discovered and that she actually feels relieved due to her newfound loyalty to Others... or continue her deception and risk putting him in danger due to the Incineration Alliance's mission.

I'm actually hopeful for him to finally see the wrongdoings of the Church and eventually choose to severe ties with them. This way, he can practice his faith freely without being bound to fake laws and feeling guilty about aiding them in harming people. Him and nova could finally be at peace with their minds and with each other.

#my boy hes so sensitive and hurt by the church's obvious corruption #i wanna protect him so badly #nova is stronger than me #i wouldve dropped everything and saved renato from that hell #im still hoping for my happily ever after with him #romance club #rc #rc wtc #rc w time catcher #w time catcher #rc nova #rc renato #renato bernardi

43 notes · View notes

medusanova · 1 year

Text

Anything That Can Go Wrong

For my fellow rivusa shipper, @fitztragedy xx

When Musa learns that Riven is the ‘mentor’ assigned to improve her hand-to-hand combat skills -- and help her pass the only class she has left to complete her third year specialist courses -- she begins to wonder if Murphy’s Law should be amended from ‘anything’ always going wrong to ‘anyone’.

Because apparently it isn’t enough they’d both left, well, things awkwardly suspended between them after the spiraling catastrophe that was her second year. He’s also still the only person to know what happened with the scrapers.

Added to that, Riven also happened to be one of only five people in the whole of Alfea that sat at the same desk as her in botany class last term, leaving her to battle his soil remnants, eraser shavings, seat warmth, and general presence for an entire hour everyday. And, worst of all, he’s still the only person who’s ever come close to understanding the very heart of her.

And now? Well, now she has an entire month to make a fool of herself in front of her biggest rival on the training pitch. All in the name of making it to her fourth and final year.

Their meeting time is set for an hour before dusk every other evening on the patch of grounds near the barrier. On her first day, Riven arrives as she’s securing her fighting gloves around her wrists. He quietly sets up the training mat and stands in wait, patient as can be.

“Hey,“ she greets. She isn’t going to let him of all people show her up in decency.

“Muse,“ he drawls with a nod. “Why the fuck are you wearing gloves?“

Decency her arse. She barely prevents her eyes from rolling and lifts a brow. “For safety and protection? Maybe you should try it sometime.”

“Oh don’t worry ‘bout me, Pixie. I always use protection,” he assures with a growing smirk.

Musa manages to ‘accidentally’ clip a fist against his jaw during their session. She considers it a great start to the month.

She sees him a week later during her free period, which also happens to be his free period (see? Murphy’s Law: Person Edition), when she has the unfortunate idea of spending it outside. She’s walking through the courtyard with her headphones around her neck, ready to settle behind the tree situated furthest away from the main building.

He’s already there, of course, under her favorite willow. Faint traces of cigarette smoke pepper the air as he hunches over his phone, legs sprawled over the comfiest part of the roots. The only reason she doesn’t spontaneously combust is because of the faint purple mark she spots under his right cheek.

He gives her a look when she slowly lowers herself onto the gravelly dirt nearby before going back to his phone. She’s about to put her headphones on when he sighs in exasperation.

“At the risk of being decked in the jaw again-“

“Bet you’re glad I had those gloves on, huh?“

“-I feel the need to ask: why on earth are you sitting over there?”

“In case you haven’t noticed, there’s only one comfy place to sit under this tree.” She digs her phone out of her back pocket, ready to drown him out.

“Musa,” Riven says, sounding vexed, “you look tragic. If you’re really set on this tree for some reason come and sit here.” He scoots over, extending his legs in front of him to give her enough room.

When she continues to stare at him he grins and says, “Promise I won’t bite.”

Riven doesn’t bite. Which is rather unfortunate since instead they talk about music and his upcoming apprenticeship with Silva and he even shares a bite of the cookie he stole from the canteen, which forces her to play her new favorite band out loud for him. In effort to not lose in the decency department, of course.

“What’s your last class?” he asks as she secures her headphones back around her neck.

She stands a moment before he does, slinging her bag over her shoulder. “History. Why?”

“Drop by the bastion when it’s over?” They started back toward the main building. “I’ve been doing weapons training with some of the first-years and they’re having trouble grasping the art of the bo staff. Thought you could share a few pointers.”

“Oh!” She grabs his bicep, barely containing her smile. “Yes, I’d love that. Though, fair warning, I haven’t been using it as much this term to ‘round out my strengths’ so once I join you might have a hard time getting rid of me.”

His lips quirk in the corner, creasing a dimple into the corner of his cheek. “That’s what I was counting on, actually.”

After her class she makes her way to the group of first years wielding staffs haphazardly as their instructor guides them in a commanding, yet reassuring voice. He weaves her into his class seamlessly, allowing her to take over their instruction and demonstrate effective techniques they could use in the future.

Throughout the lesson, she studiously avoids catching a glimpse of Riven and that cheek dimple he’d flashed at her earlier. The one that she couldn’t stop thinking about all day. She can, however, feel him staring at her intently as he wraps class up.

It’s just the two of them left when she finally catches sight of him and Murphy’s Law bites her in the arse again.

He’s clearly been working with students a majority of the day because his shirt sleeves have been rolled to the elbows, revealing an obscene amount of forearm that flexes as he holds two staffs and twirls them in each hand. Perspiration clings steadfastly to his cheeks and forehead and upper lip.

“Since when do you use a staff?” she asks, irritated with how breathless it she sounds, with how his cheek twitches.

She almost doesn’t catch it when he launches at her, too focused on that charming, damned dimple again.

“Watch.”

He comes at her without warning, making her raise her weapon to defend herself. And like they’d rehearsed it, they fall perfectly into a spar. Five minutes. Ten. She doesn’t know how long. They’re twin flames dancing around each other.

It takes her a few moments to realize he’s using her moves.

“Have to say, I’m pretty impressed,” she admits, stopping their spar.

His face, which had been guarded and focused until then, broke into a smile. “Yeah?”

“Who taught you these super impressive and original moves?”

“Some mind fairy,” he quips, laughing at her shout of indignation. “You should see her do these. Mine are a poor imitation.”

She gives him her most serious expression. “Hm. I beg to differ.”

“You do?”

“Yes. I have it on good authority.”

She’s about to turn away, unable to withstand the attraction and electricity buzzing between them when his fingers brush hers and suddenly he grabs the staff, throwing it into a pile with the rest.

“Hey! Give it back.”

“I’ll give it back later. But right now, I’d really like to kiss you.”

She flattens her lips to stop the smile from spreading across her cheeks. “You would, would you?”

“Very much so,” he murmurs.

“I didn’t think you were the type to ask for permission,” she prods.

“Hm, usually I’m not,” he cups her face in his hands, sliding his fingers along her jaw. She barely stops her eyes from closing in pleasure. “Then again, I usually don’t end up with a bruise on my face when I’m with anyone else so let’s call this a special case.”

She smiles and covers said bruise with her palm, placing her thumb over his dimple. “Oh, well I don’t think you have anything to worry about this time around.”

His breath ghosts her lips, mouth so close she could feel his smile. “Yeah?”

“Yeah, I have it on good authority.”

Maybe, she thought, Murphy’s Law knew what it was doing after all.

Happy happy birthday to you, dear Val!!

#a bit of fluff to rot the teeth #also my first rivusa in a long while! hope Im still okay at it lol #happy birthday to my lovely friend xx #rivusa #ftws musa #ftws riven #ftws rivusa #riven x musa #fate ficlet #fate: the winx saga #fate the winx saga #rivusa drabble #my writing #nova writes

74 notes · View notes

sakebytheriver · 2 years

Text

Leverage Redemption Tara Cole Episode:

Harry gets taken by someone who seems to be an enemy either the mark or a law enforcement agency, but then Tara walks around the interogation desk revealing her face to the camera

Harry fumbles around for a second before Tara says something and Parker, Eliot, Sophie, and maybe Breanna all go "wait, that voice" and Parker tells him to say a codeword that immediately changes Tara's approach

She manages to get Harry out of wherever she was holding him and then the two Leverage teams meet up because Tara is obviously running her own team of badass thief ladies now because I said so

They all call Tara "Mama" much to her chagrin

Eliot tries to flirt with the theif ladies. All the theif ladies ignore Eliot and flirt with Breanna instead, who is very flattered but is also very loyal to her long distance gf Emily (they have factimes every night)

We also need some wine aunt Tara moments with Breanna, like I want Breanna hanging on the edge of her seat as Tara regails her with stories of her latest exploits, the moment Tara is in eye sight Breanna instantly has "what did ya get me" energy and is waiting for Tara to pull some super cool thing she stole out of her pocket to give to her as a present

Sophie gives Tara a look at the stolenness of the item and Tara's just like "what the guy i stole it from was rich and evil isnt that what we do?"

Tara flirts jokingly with Harry and Sophie looks kind of annoyed this can be interpreted as her being jealous of Tara for flirting with Harry or as her being jealous of Harry for getting hit on by Tara

Tara and Sophie have a heart to heart reminicence of the good old days and the bomb in the embacy and that one time in Uzbekistan and then they talk about when Sophie got back in the game and "why didn't you call me? i wouldve come down to a job with you guys?" "well i didnt want to pull you away from your team." "you were my team first." *heavy moment of eye contact as Tara puts her hand on Sophie's that can be interpreted as romantic tension

Tara having put her hand on Sophie's notices that Sophie has taken off her wedding ring and the conversation shifts to Nate

Sophie says she misses him, Tara says she does too even if he was the most agrivating son of a bitch *cue sad laughter lost in memories*

Then they talk about Nate and his crazy mission and how much they've both become devoted to it, how they both owe their new lives to the man and Tara says even if he was the worst mf she ever worked with he was also the best and being on the crew changed her

Sophie agrees and says she's glad she called on Tara to fill her spot in her absence and then Tara says something that reveals more about what she owed Sophie for that got her on the team in the first place

{[Plot happens]}

When Tara says goodbye to Sophie after they pull off the con with their two teams working flawlessly together, she puts her hand on Sophie's cheek tells her that if she ever needs her she's only one call away, Sophie puts her hand over Tara's and says i know, Tara places a kiss on Sophie's cheek and walks out throwing the doors open to meet her team outside with a "okay ducklings, where's Mama taking you today?" Wrapping her arms around them and walking out of frame

Sophie smiles watching her go and turns back walking a bit away from the camera before giggling a little and touching her cheek almost wistful

The End.

#ignore me #leverage #tara cole #sophie devereaux

189 notes · View notes

sunlightandsuffering · 2 years

Note

Mikasa is horrified to find her crush and best friend smokes pot. But she also happens to find out when she catches him already as high as the skies. And Mika is also found out that stoner Eren gets turned on very easily when high, and much more straightfoward towards his feelings for her

Stoner Eren is everything to me, like I will put him up high on his pedestal bc he deserves it. He's so mean and lazy, but I can just imagine Mikasa's good boy image of him absolutely crushed! She's such a goody goody, thinks Eren is too, he's handsome and smart, top of their class, she's his only competition and he's good at sports, star of their uni soccer team.

Mikasa is not stalking Eren, not at all. Well, at least that's what she tells herself as she knocks on his apartment door. Yes, this is completely normal, for her to know where her peer lives despite them not really being friends, barely acquaintances. She's just being a good classmate and returning the textbook he'd left in class. She'd noticed after their lecture that he'd left it on the seat next to him, something any normal student would notice and not just because she's paying a creepy amount of attention to him. And she'd found out where he lives through completely legal means, by stalking his class profile, finding his Instagram and figuring out his address from there. Not weird at all, completely normal. Her heart is thrumming against her chest, badump, badump, badump as she raps her knuckles on the door, waiting. God she's been waiting for this moment all her life it feels like, the moment it'll all come to fruition, Eren will finally notice her, realize the girl of his dreams has been there all along. She's already dreaming of their future together, how they'll both become lawyers, hopefully at the same firm, get married, and she'll take some time off work, hopefully have lots of glorious Yeager babies and he'll be such a good dad. They'll live in a pretty white house in a good neighbourhood next to a good school and she'll work from home, a divorce attorney she hopes but her own marriage will be perfect.

She practically swoons at the idea, Eren being hers, he's so perfect, her dream man, everything she's ever wanted, her perfect equal.

But then he opens the door and instead of the heartfelt meet-cute she's expecting she's blasted with a gust of hot air, smelling very distinctly of marijuana.

Eren appears in a thick cloud of smoke, unphased, his bong in one hand, a lighter in the other, leaning himself up against the door frame as he gets ready for another hit. "Can I help you?" "Oh," she whispers in surprise because the love of her life is very apparently a pothead. For a moment, she tries to come up with reasons for this, maybe it's just a one-time thing to relax, maybe he's borrowing it from his roommate. But the lack of other shoes in the hallway and complete familiarity with the bong in his hand prove otherwise.

"Hello?" He prompts, eyebrow quirked up as he plays with his lighter, flicking it on and off.

"OH umm sorry, I'm Mikasa, we have Law together and I noticed you left your textbook earlier," she mumbles. "Oh," Eren hums, his eyes bloodshot as he looks her over, a wicked smirk carving his lips, "Right you're the hot girl in all my classes, uptight, stick up your ass right?"

"What?" Mikasa sputters, clutching at his textbook for dear life because this is not the boy she imagined at all. "Yeah," he whispers, his voice gravelly, answering his own question, "That's you." "I do not have a stick up my ass." "Prove it," Eren challenges, casually snatching his textbook from her and throwing it backwards onto his entryway table. Her hackles rise because he is not the man she thought he was, no longer her prince charming, the illusion ruined, "I don't have to prove anything to you." "But you will, won't you sweet cheeks, now c'mere and let me help you remove the stick from your very sexy ass and we can have some fun." She gasps, her cheeks coloured fire engine red, and yet, some part of her wants it, wants him, because he's looking at her. Looking at her the way she's always dreamed he would, since first year when she saw him in her philosophy tutorial, looking at her like he wants to eat her up, steal her away. Her breath hitches as he nods his head inside, opening the door a little wider, "C'mon sweets, why don't you come inside and tell me all about yourself." She can't help herself, following him inside, "Alright." "Good girl." And to Mikasa's immense surprise that is the beginning of her married life, because Eren might like to play hard but he works hard too and he's no fool, he knows what he's got the second he lets Mikasa into his apartment.

An equal, someone to play hard with.

#stoner eren au #lys's drabbles

34 notes · View notes

kse22chili · 5 months

Text

Fedeltà

Now what truly makes me curious is what’s behind those beautiful brown eyes…

It is really hard for me to understand his intentions. Sometimes he’s cold and crude with me but there are also times when he is calm, soft and he even initiates affection towards me. Because of this, exactly I am dubious of his actions.

As in, do you love me or do you not love me?

I don’t want to continue living like this anymore; loving you while I’m trying to understand what’s worth doing and what not. I’m in a conflicting position with insecurities that I never had before but finally you had the urge to make me have them. It’s outrageous to think that I love you but at the same time I hate you. And I’m not particularly talking about that kind of hate that engulfs your very being and claims your soul, plaguing it with negative faith. No, I’m talking about that moment where one’s behaviour is so beautifully wrong, making you infatuated to it in a way that brings you to respectfully hate that person. But make no mistake, dear readers, hating that person doesn’t mean that I’m not burning with a raging fire within my heart and mind, roasting those little rational thoughts that have been remaining in my tiny skull, instead I am suffering in misery while stopping this hate towards this person, because it’s paradoxically sweet of him to have that demeanour with me.

I’m the one to blame. Because I never ceased to live without him in my routine. As in I dived into his lifestyles and matched my own rhythms to his, sacrificing my freedom and empowerment. Isn’t this such a cruel world?

Perfect cruel rational world. That seeks to confine us into narrow roles and expectations, and we defy those limitations. At least that’s what a normal person seeks to proceeding.

Instead, I am doing the opposite. Aren’t I ashamed of my own actions and ambitions? I seek to have a love life and I search for it in every single corner of the streets I walk through. But, I’m absolutely not embarrassed of my intentions, I am exhausted of all the limitations imposed upon me by an outdated script of delusional MEN of an old fashioned world. Now, I come from a quite antique century too, but I never seek to follow these outdated “laws”…

But he is the man of his times, the one that lives in danger and commands his inferiors, putting them to submission and protecting his dear ones.

I am one of his dear ones. His first priority. He has proven it to me. Several times. And I’m not talking about something that happened some years ago… No, I’m talking about two days ago;

We were seated in the back seats of our car, the driver could not particularly listen to our conversation, but we were having a small quarrel about something that had no means to whatsoever… But he was getting angry, not at me but he had been bothered by several affairs that day and he had no patience whatsoever to deal with tiny little stupid issues that I created in the moment just because I wanted a bit of his attention…

He raised his voice at me. He had never done it before.

And at that moment, I turned my head and looked out of the window. He stopped his sentence. And stopped talking.

When we arrived home, I waited for him to open my door and I got out the car. With my head raised, I was headed to the door. He followed behind me. Stayed behind me. Never dared to say something to me.

Once inside our room, I closed the door and only said one word “Out”.

The next morning I woke up, did my usual routine and headed to my kitchen to have breakfast. I saw that he had already prepared breakfast for me. And then, he had went to meet his men.

After that I had gone out for a stroll in my garden.

I had thought I had been all alone. But there was a presence behind me. That person put their hand to my mouth and blocked my arms, locking them behind my back. I didn’t fight.

My husband came. Out of nowhere. He was there. And he shot that other man in the middle of his forehead.

Unbothered, I turned around and got back to clean my hands in the bathroom. He comes behind me too. He cleans his hands after me and he dries them.

I feel his hard and big arms gripping my waist and hugging me to himself. And I melted in his sculpted body. I turned my head to his head and softly pecked him to his lips…

You see? How could I ever hate him? He is my sweet, perfect, dangerous Salvatore.

My only boss and my husband.

3 notes · View notes

dolphin1812 · 1 year

Text

The light imagery in this chapter is fascinating:

“These antique visages and these Biblical names mingled in the child’s mind with the Old Testament which he was learning by heart, and when they were all there, seated in a circle around a dying fire, sparely lighted by a lamp shaded with green, with their severe profiles, their gray or white hair, their long gowns of another age, whose lugubrious colors could not be distinguished, dropping, at rare intervals, words which were both majestic and severe, little Marius stared at them with frightened eyes, in the conviction that he beheld not women, but patriarchs and magi, not real beings, but phantoms.”

Light often represents progress in this novel, so it’s not surprising that the conservative royalist salon is shrouded in shadow. The “dying fire” points both to their dim, limited vision of the world and the fact that their ideology (in Hugo’s view, as his idea of progress is linear) is dying out. With the exception of Marius, everyone at this salon is elderly (”their gray or white hair” points to this) and dressed in “gowns of another age.” They’re out of touch with fashion and politics, but Marius - who has only seen shadows - doesn’t know that.

The idea that they’re “phantoms” further stresses their connections to a past period, as if they were ghosts from the ancien régime. However, that supernatural tie also adds in Marius’ fear and respect for them. Fearing phantoms isn’t surprising, nor is listening to them out of that fear when they appear.

Marius himself, however, is full of light because he’s a child, making him an almost contradictory blend of brightness (his youth) and darkness (his politics, learned from Gillenormand). In many ways, he’s similar to the time period of some of these salons:

“Nothing in history resembles that quarter of an hour which begins in 1814 and terminates about 1820, with the advent of M. de Villèle, the practical man of the Right. These six years were an extraordinary moment; at one and the same time brilliant and gloomy, smiling and sombre, illuminated as by the radiance of dawn and entirely covered, at the same time, with the shadows of the great catastrophes which still filled the horizon and were slowly sinking into the past.”

Gillenormand’s influence is a “shadow” on Marius, who himself becomes gloomy and “severe” because of his upbringing. At the same time, he may maintain some “light” because he has the potential to change, just as France did.

The ideas on teaching presented here are intriguing as well. Marius’ education makes him a “pedant,” but we’re not given much detail besides the fact that it’s classical and that he then goes to law school. We also know that he was made to learn the Old Testament “by heart,” and while religious education may have been distinct from his studies, combined with the use of “pedant,” it implies that all of his studies focused on memorizing and reciting what was told to him (just as he repeats Gillenormand’s political opinions). His perspectives, then, may not have been challenged in his studies, either. Ironically, the “ultra” attitude of the salon may have been the best argument against royalism, but Marius is ill-prepared to think about that.

Also! A brief note on the galleys:

“M. de Port-de-Guy, bald, and rather aged than old, was wont to relate that in 1793, at the age of sixteen, he had been put in the galleys as refractory and chained with an octogenarian, the Bishop of Mirepoix, also refractory, but as a priest, while he was so in the capacity of a soldier. This was at Toulon. Their business was to go at night and gather up on the scaffold the heads and bodies of the persons who had been guillotined during the day; they bore away on their backs these dripping corpses, and their red galley-slave blouses had a clot of blood at the back of the neck, which was dry in the morning and wet at night. These tragic tales abounded in Madame de T.’s salon, and by dint of cursing Marat, they applauded Trestaillon.”

Although this story was told with the intention of cursing the French Revolution, it also speaks to its failure to truly change the criminal justice system. Perhaps aristocrats and bishops hadn’t been the targets of the monarchy, but the galleys were unjust regardless of who they were punishing. The guillotine, in a similar vein, is horrific regardless of who it targets; the detail is difficult to find in this large block paragraph, but the details about the blood do make it stand out a bit more, showing both how these stories could have affected Marius as a child (this is pretty gruesome and would easily make him hate and fear enemies of royalism) and the genuine violence of the Revolution and the systems it left in place.

#les mis letters #lm 3.3.3 #marius pontmercy #there were also lots of historical details in this chapter that seem interesting!

19 notes · View notes

childofchrist1983 · 1 year

Text

Blessed is the man that walketh not in the counsel of the ungodly, nor standeth in the way of sinners, nor sitteth in the seat of the scornful. But his delight is in the law of the LORD; and in his law doth he meditate day and night. And he shall be like a tree planted by the rivers of water, that bringeth forth his fruit in his season; his leaf also shall not wither; and whatsoever he doeth shall prosper. - Psalm 1:1-3 KJV

Another one of my favorite psalms! Don't you just love the image of walking along the stream of water looking at the trees and smelling their fruit. When I believe that I am walking on the straight path knowing God is with me, this is how I feel – Blessed and at true peace. I am not perfect, even in my walk with God, but I do my best to follow and serve God daily and I try to help those who need help as well as pray for anyone that asks for it, and for those who I know are suffering or are trying to make the right decision. I follow the news and do my best to pray for people when there is a disaster anywhere in the world. After all, we are all God's creation. He loves us and He wants us to not only seek and lean on Him, but also be kind and forgiving to one another. This is the point of Jesus' Law of Love. It's important to spread the Gospel and to work within our community, but it is also important to do what we can for others whom we may never know in this lifetime.

The best thing about walking in the counsel of the LORD God Almighty, and not the wicked and sin, is true peace and happiness. When you humble yourself, completely surrendering your heart and lives to Father God Almighty and the LORD Jesus Christ and trust Him to take care of you, you can relax and be at peace. You know that He is not trying to put something over on you, or cheat you out of anything. Even when life is difficult, you know you're not alone. The wicked always have an agenda. Even when they are doing good things, it's not because it's the right thing to do, it's because they want people to see them and believe that they are good. Those who serve and walk with the LORD do the right thing because it is the right thing to do and pleases God. It doesn't matter if anyone watches or not, because the only one who needs to know and be glorified is the LORD Jesus Christ and Our Heavenly Father, and He is always with us. I know that I want to be happy, and I'm sure that you do as well. Let's walk together daily with the LORD Jesus Christ! God wants all His creation to come to Him and be at peace. All we need to do is repent, remain close to Him and His Holy Word and Spirit keep His commands. Seek and put your faith and trust in Father God Almighty and the LORD Jesus Christ and let Him do the rest. May He humble our hearts and help us focus on following and serving Him daily and helping others with joy and happiness. We lift our voices in praise to Him for His love, mercy, peace, faithfulness and grace. - For EVERYTHING!

It is vital that we remain rooted in Father God Almighty and the LORD Jesus Christ through prayer and His Holy Word and Spirit and that we live and walk as a beacon of His light and love and share and spread the Gospel Truth daily, so that the lost souls in this world can come to know Him and be saved. The more we focus on Father God Almighty and the LORD Jesus Christ, growing spiritually by building our relationship with Him, leaning on Him and His Holy Word and Spirit, the better off we will be. Thanks to this and our faith in Him, we know that everything will be alright. And we will forever be grateful to Him. As true and born-again Christians, we believe in Him and His Holy Word and we strive daily to walk in His Holy Spirit. We know though our mortal bodies should die, He will raise us up and into new and glorious bodies (The Rapture). We who are truly His and alive at His second coming will never die, and our bodies will be changed in a moment, in the twinkling of an eye, and so shall we ever be with Him in His Kingdom of Heaven forevermore (1 Corinthians 15:51-52, 1 Thessalonians 4:16-17). This is one of many promises given to us by God Himself. Thank God for His strength and guidance when we are faced with sin and temptation. Thank Him for His mercy and grace. Through Bible study and prayer, God reveals His wisdom and guides us to see opportunities to grow closer to Him and grow spiritually. He gives us direction to live our lives daily according to His will.

Jesus Christ is the ONLY way to Heaven (John 3:5, 14:6), the ONLY way to salvation (Acts 4:12, Ephesians 2:8-9) and He is the resurrection and the life (John 11:25-26). Jesus Christ the LORD of lords, KING of kings, the GOD of gods (Deuteronomy 10:17, 1 Timothy 6:15, Revelation 17:14, Revelation 19:16) - He is the Living, Almighty and Everlasting God (Isaiah 9:6, Revelation 1:8, John 3:16, John 3:36, Jeremiah 10:10). There is no other God besides Him (Isaiah 45:5). We MUST humble ourselves before Him, turning our backs on false teachers, false gods and idols and our sinful ways. We MUST repent and turn back to God and recognize who He is and love Him in return for His great love for us. We MUST make God top priority everyday! May we be motivated to spread God's Holy Word and Gospel Truth to all the Earth, knowing that it is the only hope of all those lost in their sins. Let us not hold out a false hope for men to be saved without the Gospel, but instead, strive to do our part to get the Gospel out to a lost and dying world.

Leaning on Father God Almighty and the LORD Jesus Christ through prayer and His Holy Word and Spirit strengthens us and our knowledge and wisdom about God and His Gospel Truth, exposing these imposters. May God help us to seek and lean on Him daily to gain the strength, wisdom and spiritual discernment needed to expose Satan and his imposters who seek to destroy us and God's ultimate Truth. Everyday, we must remember to share Jesus Christ's Gospel Truth with the world and to thank Father God Almighty and the LORD Jesus Christ for the grace that He poured out for us on the cross at Calvary. He has freed us from the burdens of sin and from the eternal damnation of Hell. In all we say and do, may all praise, honor and glory always be given to Him and His Kingdom of Heaven.

With renewed minds, hearts and wills, let us serve Him humbly and faithfully out of pure love and grateful rejoicing. May He remind us of His presence and to remain at peace, fully knowing that all will be well because He is always with us. Let us seek Father God Almighty and the LORD Jesus Christ today and everyday with all our heart and being, looking for His love, light and will for our lives with each step we take. Let us seek to please Him with our thoughts, words, and deeds and seek to advance His Kingdom of Heaven and His glory with our lives. Let us seek Him from a pure and humble heart, and when we so seek, we believe Him and His promise that we will find. May He help us all to be more sensitive to the teaching ministry of His Holy Word and Spirit, relying on Him and allowing Him to speak to us and guide us every step of our Christian journey.

God gave us the Holy Bible - His living and Holy Word - to let us know of Him and His abiding love and care as well as guide and prepare us for all our lives. May He help us encourage one another as we continue our walk with Him and our duty to Him daily. Thank Father God Almighty and the LORD Jesus Christ for being present for all our new beginnings and all our lives. May He redirect any anxiety we feel as He provides countless opportunities for growth and change. May we humble ourselves before God always, asking Him to forgive our sins and make our hearts and lives anew through His Holy Word and Spirit. May He help us make Him and His Holy Word top priority, so we can grow spiritually and grow in our relationship with Him as we apply it to our daily lives. Thank God that we can focus on Him and everything about Him, for that is what keeps us sane and at peace. May our words and actions always be a reflection of Him and His Holy Word and Spirit and will.

May He help us to always walk in His grace and Holy Spirit, not by our own measure. May He give us the humble humility to know that our freedom and eternal salvation is found only in Him, so that His grace may sustain us, and we may never lose sight of His love and light and mercy. Thank Father God Almighty and the LORD Jesus Christ for calling us to Him and to serve Him. May He equip us to do all that He has called us to do so that as He works through us, He may use us to produce fruit, to reach others, and to encourage all brothers and sisters in Christ. May He work all of these things in us and through us for His Kingdom and His glory. Thank Father God Almighty and the LORD Jesus Christ for all His creation, for His miraculous ways and for everything He does and has done for us! Keep the faith and keep moving forward in your walk with Jesus! He loves us and He knows what is best for us. Seek, follow and trust in Him - Always!

Thank Father God Almighty and the LORD Jesus Christ for His Holy Word and for sending His Holy Spirit so that we might have His grace, not only to awaken us and transform our hearts in our spiritual rebirth and guarantee our eternity with Him, but to also call upon Him whenever we are in need. Thank Father God Almighty and the LORD Jesus Christ for all the reminders of His love and mercy and faithfulness within His Holy Word. He is bigger than any challenge or circumstance in our lives. Knowing this within our minds and our hearts, nothing can deter our faith in Him and His Truth. May we all accept Him and His eternal gift of salvation and ask that He would transform our hearts and lives according to His will and ways. Thank Father God Almighty and the LORD Jesus Christ for His Holy Spirit who saves, seals and leads us. May we always thank Father God Almighty and the LORD Jesus Christ for His almighty power and saving grace. For He is our strength, and He alone is able to save us, forgive our sins and gift us eternal salvation and entry into His Kingdom of Heaven.

May we make sure that we give our hearts and lives to God and take time to seek and praise Him and share His Truth with the world daily. May the LORD our God and Father in Heaven help us to stay diligent and obedient and help us to guard our hearts in Him and His Holy Word daily. May He help us to remain faithful and full of excitement to do our duty to Him and for His glorious return and our reunion in Heaven as well as all that awaits us there. May we never forget to thank the LORD our God and our Creator and Father in Heaven for all this and everything He does and has done for us! May we never forget who He is, nor forget who we are in Christ and that God is always with us! What a mighty God we serve! What a Savior this is! What a wonderful LORD, God, Savior and King we have in Jesus Christ! What a loving Father we have found in Almighty God! What a wonderful God we serve! His will be done!

Thanks and glory be to God! Blessed be the name of the LORD! Hallelujah and Amen!

2 notes · View notes

bluepenguinstories · 1 year

Text

Remoras Full Chapter LXXII: Hot and Cold

I was having a nice kale and olive salad (the olives came from my olive garden, the kale also from my garden) with vinegar as dressing (from my vineyard, no less) for lunch with my beautiful wife (wife came from the bedroom to have lunch with me).

“Nice salad, isn’t it?” I asked my beautiful wife with her radiant pigtails.

“No. It’s quite a mean salad, actually. It should be punished to the fullest extent of the law,” she joked while shoving a whole pile into her mouth. She got some vinegar all over her fingers, but that just added to her charm.

“But hun, this is our house. We are the law.”

We laughed together. These days, it was easier to laugh, and these light and soft moments helped put ease to my day to day life. It wasn’t a life without stress – there were chickens to feed, watering the garden and maintaining the farm, just to name a few. But those were stresses on my own terms, without worry over whether my life, or anyone else’s, were in danger.

There came a knock at our door. A series of heavy, intense thumps.

My heart raced. Made the same series of thumps that the door made.

Thoughts raced as well. Thoughts like, are we being raided? Are we under attack? From who? Cops? Mercenaries? Remnants of my pursuers from the past? Did I or my wife do something? Or is it because of our identity or how we live? Are they going to break the door down?

“I’ll get it,” my wife got up with a smile and seemingly not a care in the world.

“Wait!” I reached out to try to get her to stay put. Our safety was first and foremost. God damn it, we should have installed a backdoor. I wasn’t sure if either of us could fit in the window, but even if we could, what if we were too slow and whoever was out there got us?

Instead, she reached over and put her hand over my own.

“It will be okay,” she assured me.

Oh, how I wish I could believe that.

She went over to the door and opened it. I expected some shouting to occur next, or some forceful action that would put me in shock. Worse, I couldn’t even see who was outside due to the door itself blocking my view.

“Uh...a-are you Juniper?” Stuttered out the shaky words with a tone I could only describe as ‘constipated’.

Yet somehow, it’s familiar at the same time, I thought.

I leaped out of my seat and rushed toward the door.

“Yeah, I am! And you must be Rachel?” My wife, who indeed, was Juniper, answered.

“Something like that…”

When I stood behind Juniper, my eyes widened:

There stood a tall, well-built woman (though not as tall as me) in a worn out leather jacket opened up and a plain white shirt underneath. She had jeans with holes in them, but that wasn’t important. No, what was important? Uh, she fidgeted a lot, and shivered, too, perhaps out of nervousness. Her index fingers sometimes poked against each other, but she soon transitioned into folding her arms together, unfolding them and holding one off to the side, and then scratching at her arms.

Her hair was shaved near-bald with only remnants of small hairs intact, which, given their dark shade and thickness, I was left to assume she had black hair before. She had black circles around her otherwise radiant eyes, and I almost thought she had been given a black eye from someone not too long ago until I realized it was eyeshadow. Then there was her jawline, deep and wide. Her skin looked like a warm and rich brown hue. Really, if there was ever a beauty to rival Juniper’s…

Well, I’d be interested to know what her hair looked like before she shaved it, I considered before I made any more physical evaluations on this guest of ours.

“A-Are you checking me out?” Rachel looked past Juniper and asked. Now it was my turn to shiver, as goosebumps filled me.

“Ahaha, no!” I laughed, “I was just curious what you might look like. I imagined all sorts of things based on our talk on the phone! You know, you don’t sound like you do on the phone. Where’s all your suave and flirtiness?”

She looked shocked as she took a step back.

Why are you the one being shocked? What about me?

“I’m sorry...if I gave you such an impression. I have trouble talking to beautiful people, especially when they’re alive. Which you two tick both boxes…”

“Uh...as opposed to talking to dead people?” I asked in total confusion. So this wasn’t going how I thought it would be: I knew we would have a guest, someone who knew Demetria well, and someone who had fallen under hard times, but despite all that, I didn’t expect them to be so strange right out of the gate. Luckily for me, I had experience dealing with strange people.

“Heh,” she looked off to the side and smirked, as if she was recalling some fond memory. “Yeah. I feel like I’m in good company around those who have ceased to be.”

“Right…”

“Oh, sorry! Where are my manners? I always forget those exist...uh…” she shook as she held out her hand. “You must be Vesuvius, right?”

“That’s me,” I took her hand. It was rather warm. Not all that surprising, given spring was in its second half of its lifespan, but it still seemed worth commenting on, “but you can call me Ves. Your hand is warm, by the way.”

“Really? I’ve had people tell me I’m quite cold,” she remarked, without a stutter or pause, this time.

“Who tells you that?”

“Ah…” she chuckled, “well, actually, I haven’t talked to people in a while, you see.”

“Well, I’m sure we’ll have plenty of time to talk while you’re here!” I gave her a thumbs up and smiled.

“Yeah, we were wondering when you would show up since it had been a couple months since your call,” Juniper added.

“Sorry about that, J...J...Juniper,” her face seemed to grow red, “I had to walk from the place Demetria lives at with no forms of transportation to get me here faster.”

“Oh dear, I’m sorry.”

“Ah, it’s fine, I’m used to not having a home to go to...and I traveled with a strange homeless woman on the way here. She had some money, and it wasn’t so bad...I found some charcoal on the ground and rubbed it around my eyes because I lacked makeup. I wanted to make myself presentable.”

“About that: I think you should shower. I’m sure you’ll look fine, either way, but that can’t be good to keep on your face for who knows how long in such warm weather as this,” I advised.

“Warm? Is that so? My, the temperature is quite temperamental. I didn’t get the same treatment on the way here. I wish I layered up more…”

“Well, you had a long walk to get here. I’m sure sleeping outside didn’t help much.”

“Oh. I. Actually, I, sorta slept at a hotel a couple of times. There’s one on the highway near here. The receptionist even called me darling.”

“Really? Why didn’t she call you by name?” Juniper gave Rachel a suspicious look.

“It’s okay! Really! I’ve always wanted to be pampered.”

“Ah, I’m sorry. We don’t really do much of that here,” she shook her head.

What? Since when? Don’t you pamper me all the time, Juni? Why are you saying such things to our guest?

“I’m fine with that. I’ll be in your care as long as you allow me.”

“Sure. You’re welcome to stay as long as you like, ‘Rachel’,” she emphasized her name as if she were saying it in quotes. I side-eyed Juniper, but she didn’t give me any sort of indication what was going on.

“Yeah, we’re pretty easygoing people. Kind of boring, really,” I added.

“I can see that,” Rachel replied before walking inside.

I felt like a vein was about to pop. What the hell? Only I was allowed to say that we were boring. Who was this stranger to…

...Rachel walked over to the couch in the living room and laid down with the blanket drawn over her. Like she didn’t need an invitation and just went for it.

As Juniper closed the door behind her, she turned to me and whispered.

“She seems like the kind of person who gave me a hard time in a past life,” she said, quiet enough that Rachel couldn’t hear.

“What? What does that mean?” I whispered back.

“That’s just the vibe I get. You’re free to see her however you like.”

I must have had several question marks surrounding my face as Juniper walked into the kitchen and grabbed a mango.

What happened to the Juniper who smiled at everyone and was, perhaps to some, unbearably kind?

“You want a mango, Rachel?” Juniper asked. It was definitely closer to the Juniper I knew, even if her tone wasn’t quite the friendly one she usually had.

“Huh? Sure,” Rachel replied without looking over.

Juniper wound her arm back as if the mango was a baseball and she was about to toss it to the pitcher. Except Rachel didn’t have a bat.

Is she seriously thinking of hitting her in the face?! My jaw dropped.

Instead, she changed form and gave a light, underhanded toss in Rachel’s direction. To my surprise (and relief), Rachel caught it in one hand without even looking Juniper’s way.

Well, at least she’s a good catch.

I watched as Rachel took a bite into the mango, skin and all, as if it were an apple.

“So, how did you and Demetria meet?” I asked Rachel.

“If possible, I’d like to pretend I never met Demetria. Thank you for understanding,” Rachel said and waved her hand aside.

All that statement did was make me wish to ask more questions.

“I can tell you, however, how I fell under these hard times,” she said instead.

“Oh?” I dropped to the floor and sat with keen interest.

“Do you remember three years ago?”

One of the best and worst years of my life. So much chaos, in both the good, bad, and neutral sense of the word.

Of course, I didn’t tell her those superfluous things.

“You mean 2017?” I confirmed. It was taboo in some places to state what year it was, unless you had to write the date on a document. Often, in conversation, it was more wise to state ‘current year’. But all you had to do was say what year it was a certain amount of years ago, and it was clear what year it currently was.

“Oh yeah, remember the summer, hun?” Juniper chimed in. Soon, she sat down beside me. She even wrapped her arms around me from the side for good measure.

“I’d rather forget…” I groaned and looked off to the side.

“Why, what happened then?” Rachel asked. Oh, dear. I really didn’t want to get a stranger involved in one of my sob stories.

“Don’t you know already?” Juniper asked. That question struck me as a bit odd, but Rachel was the one who brought up three years ago first.

“Well, I know what happened to me then, but I’d like to hear about you first.”

There’s no getting out of this, is there? At least I won’t be expected to talk about the more out of this world stuff, right?

Luckily, Juniper was there to rescue me:

“Summer was when Ves here started working on her mental health! I’m very proud of the steps she’s taken. We weren’t always the picture perfect couple, y’know?”

“We weren’t?!” I balked.

Aw, who am I kidding? That cosmic possession thing did cause quite a strain.

“Well,” I huffed, “it was also the time when my mental health was at my lowest.”

“Sometimes you have to hit rock bottom to climb to the top, dear,” she stroked my back and made me feel like a horse that just won first prize at a race.

“Hmph. That’s right. I did do a lot of climbing, didn’t I?” A sudden surge of pride washed over me. Juniper sure had a way of making me feel triumphant.

“I’m glad to hear you overcame whatever obstacles you seem to have had. I even remember congratulating you over the phone,” Rachel pantomimed holding a phone up to her ear.

“Yes. What was that about?” I asked.

“It’s just the feeling I got from you. It sounded like you were in a better place than you once were, but still troubled by the past. Am I incorrect?”

I shook my head.

“You’re correct. I can never fully get over things, even when I say I have. I still struggle with certain things which haunt me, but I’ve been able to manage myself much better than I used to in the past.”

I looked over at Juniper for approval, as if I needed to prove that my words were sincere enough. She gave me a light peck on the cheek. That was all the approval I needed.

“So what about you?” I asked. “What was significant about three years ago?”

“Well, funny enough, you could say that was when my life ended,” she chuckled.

I don’t know why, but that struck a chord with me. Not so much a nerve, as I still had a few of those stockpiled.

“How so?” I asked.

“Well, you see, I used to be an underground boxer. It’s not so glamorous, as I didn’t have a full stadium out in the open, and there were less rules than a professional boxing tournament. It also meant it was more risky. That said, I made big bucks, I had my own manager, and I was quite famous in the underground circles. They called me Rachel ‘Frigid Fists’ Flores.”

“That’s a lame stage name,” Juniper sneered.

“What?! No way! It’s totally cool!” Rachel grew defensive. “You think so, right, Ves?”

“I don’t know anything about boxing, sorry,” I lied. I knew some things. Like gloves were involved. And people got knocked out sometimes.”

“Needless to say,” Rachel continued, “I fell into a coma.”

“I feel like we’re missing some steps here…” Juniper scratched her chin.

“Well, she probably got knocked out,” I suggested.

“You’d think so, huh? But nah, whenever someone got knocked out in battle, it usually didn’t last long. At worst, you’d lose a few brain cells, but if brain cells are so fragile that being knocked out will make you lose some, I’m inclined to blame the fragility of the human body and not the result of a boxing match.”

“So what happened, then?”

“Before I get to that, I have to explain that I never really got knocked out. I was locked into an abusive contract, pulled in many places, forced to train when time would have been better spent resting. But as long as I continued to win matches, I’d keep making money and have a roof over my head. My manager would remind me things like, ‘you don’t have a family or a home to go to. I picked you off the streets when no one else would take you in and I recognized your talent. I can always put you back on the streets.’ So yeah, despite knowing how bad my contract was and how lonely my existence was, there was incentive to keep winning matches.”

“Quite the pickle,” I sympathized.

“More like a situation, actually. I don’t know what cucumbers have to do with boxing. Anyway, I had a sense of purpose, I kept my manager happy, and I didn’t have any other skills that would make me appealing to society. Of course I’d want to keep winning matches, right? Well, as I said, I didn’t have other skills and I was quite limited on where I could go and what I could do. Eventually, I reached a breaking point. Something of an ultimatum: I can either keep at this until they forcibly retire me and kick me out to who knows where or I can upend my life right away.”

“So what did you do?”

“During one of my matches, I lost on purpose. I goaded my opponent into getting more and more aggressive by insulting her with the worst things I could think of while I stayed on the defensive and only made light jabs. She knew I was good. More than that, I knew she lacked form, but in matches like these, all you needed was a quick strike, which is exactly what I got out of her. When I fell to the floor, I stayed there, pretending like I was knocked out even though that was far from the truth. I let the countdown reach ten and…”

“You fell into a coma?” I finished for her.

“No. How does that make any sense? There’s a sequence of events, and there needs to be a cause and effect. We haven’t yet gotten to the cause, but the build up is essential.”

“Oh, all right,” I puffed my cheeks.

“So my manager could tell what stunt I pulled. I was promptly kicked. I was allowed to pocket some of the money I had earned through the years, but much of it went seized, leaving me with a considerate amount in terms of pocket change, but not enough to house myself. Luckily for me, the silver lining came in the form of a knife,” she made little stabbing gestures in the air.

“What I mean is that I got stabbed right after getting kicked out. I lost consciousness and I was rushed into the hospital. But despite surviving, I remained in a comatose state. When I awoke, which wasn’t even too long ago, I learned that my former manager had paid my hospital bills in an uncharacteristically kind gesture. That said, I had to undergo much treatment to get me back on my feet, and I had lost contact with anyone I once knew so long ago.”

“Wow, that’s so harsh,” I couldn’t believe the kind of life Rachel had. It must not have been easy. Seeing as once, I spent a considerable time on the run, and a considerable time after searching for answers, I could relate in some ways. Maybe my experiences were closer to the realms of fantasy, but that was neither here nor there.

Juniper shot her hand up.

“I just wanna know...why do you feel the need to lie?” Juniper asked.

When I say I almost gasped...well, thank goodness I didn’t, because that would be unladylike of me.

“Because sitting up is too much of a chore,” Rachel shrugged as if she wasn’t handed a huge accusation on a silver platter. I still wasn’t sure what the accusation was, because none of what Rachel said sounded like a lie. It all sounded like it came from the heart.

“If that’s the case, why the couch? There’s a guest room with a bed for you. And if you don’t mind sharing, you’re always free to lie in bed with Ves and I.”

“L-Lie in bed with Juniper? I can do that? I mean, I’ve thought about it. Maybe in my wildest fantasies. Maybe some not so wild. But here? Now? Is this true?” Rachel sat up and began fidgeting her hands together.

“Of course. All you have to do is be honest with us.”

“What are you doing, hun? She’s not the enemy,” I whispered to my love.

“I know she’s not. Maybe if we had met a few years ago, she might have been one. But here, she’s a potential dear friend. I just want her to be honest with herself, and with us,” she whispered back.

“About what?!”

“Hey Rachel. While you were up in the arctic with Demetria, did you meet Remora?” Juniper asked.

How is that relevant to anything?

Whatever I expected from Rachel next, what I wasn’t expecting was for a smile to spread across her lips and her voice to become much softer, in a sort of casual way.

“Yeah. Strange woman, isn’t she?” Her words flowed like they were blown from the wind. “I was, after all, sitting across from her when Demetria told you about me, and when you talked to Remora.”

I froze. Almost as if I was in the tundra, myself.

So when I said all those things about grief, Rachel was there. She heard all these things…

“So that’s how you knew to say all those things to comfort me,” I realized.

“Ahaha, you caught me. Sorry, eavesdropping, force of habit.”

“Did...did you ever lose someone close to you?” I asked.

Rachel shook her head, still smiling.

“I can’t lose what I never had to begin with. The closest I came to was when I met someone I wanted to get close to, but I lost that chance when I ‘fell asleep’, so to speak. I guess that’s a loss, but it’s really more my loss than anything.”

“Would you ever wish to see them again?”

Rachel leaned in close and her hands moved under her chin. Her eyes seemed to sparkle, and her smile lowered just a touch.

“I can barely remember a single thing about them. If I recall, I didn’t know them for very long, either. As far as I’m concerned, this is my second chance at life, and I’m just hoping I can make memories with this one.”

“I hope so too,” I smiled back at her.

We didn’t linger too long in the living room. Yes, introductions could be quite the chore at times, yet they were also necessary. Or at least, I thought so. Speaking of introductions, there was still the tour we had yet to get to.

First off, Juniper and I showed her to the guest room. Her response?

“No, thanks. The couch is enough for me.”

Oh well. I was sure she in her troubled mind must have thought something like, “I don’t deserve a bed right now” as that was once a thought I had. But I knew it would only be a matter of time before she was no longer able to resist the allure of a soft bed.

We went outside and I showed her the garden, the vineyard, and the farm. She yawned at each display. She didn’t even seem impressed when I showed off my greenhouse and my hydroponics.

Oh well. Everyone’s a critic.

Next, Juniper pointed way off in the distance to a small wood barn. That barn, of course, housed the chickens and had lots of hay and wheat for them to sit upon and roost.

“What a load of cocks,” Rachel remarked.

“Actually, they’re all hens,” Juniper corrected.

“What’s the difference?”

“Cocks are roosters.”

“Oh, it doesn’t matter,” I waved my hand and groaned, “they’re all chickens.”

“Yes,” Juniper nodded, “and if you want to win their affection, you must know all of their names. There’s Molly, Bruno, Bagel, Okapia, Okra, Okakoro, Onomatopoeia, Priscilla, and Doodle.”

She pointed to each one and some of the chickens looked over at Juniper. They were more hers than mine, as I mainly gathered the eggs every now and then. It was her compromise that if we were to live in a remote area, that we should at least have chickens. There was no way I could argue with her about that.

“Is this really necessary? And what’s with some of those names?” Rachel asked.

“Yes. It’s all necessary. Some won’t let you feed them or clean their plumage or take their eggs unless you address them by name.”

“Will they bite?”

“Some will. You’ll just have to endure it.”

“This world sure is harsh,” Rachel observed.

The last stop on the tour was Juniper’s workshop: a place where she invented all sorts of silly little gadgets and contraptions.

“Wow,” Rachel mouthed as she stared up in admiration at the garage where Juniper did her tinkering. She didn’t even look in and see any gadgets, but it was like she didn’t need to know what went on in there and just the simple fact that it existed was enough for her.

We soon finished our tour.

We had deviled eggs for supper, something which seemed to delight Rachel as she shoved several eggs in her mouth.

I’ll have to take note that she likes protein. Maybe I can grow some beans for her.

When she decided enough was enough, she patted her belly.

Both Juniper and I laughed, and when we did so, Rachel’s eyes shifted between us and began to shiver.

When it came time for Juniper and I to sleep, we took our leave to the bedroom while Rachel stayed out in the living room.

I preferred to sleep not long after dusk, as I was a simple woman. Of course, Juniper and I had sex nearly every night, which did keep us both awake a little longer, but also helped us to sleep at the same time.

Even when she was satisfied after a passionate bout of lovemaking and I was well past asleep, she had a tendency to still have plenty of energy and stay awake, absorbed in other tasks.

Sometimes I would wake up and see her with a book (she preferred non-fiction, and instruction manuals on how to build various things) and a dim light on the table next to her end of the bed. Other times, she would go out into the living room and watch TV, or play video games on the PC that rested in the corner of the room. That wasn’t even taking into account how sometimes she’d go out into her workshop and pull an all-nighter.

I wouldn’t have been surprised to wake up that night, either, and find she was awake and absorbed in some task.

Juniper the busybody. Juniper the handyman. Juniper the workaholic. Juniper the carefree.

Then there was me: one who would have been content to lay in a field of flowers and meditate. To wake at sunrise and sleep at sunset. To seek out the nearest source of calm and bask in it.

However, I couldn’t sleep that night.

Well, I did, but it didn’t last as my eyes shot open into the darkness.

I checked my phone: just a little past 1 AM.

Now why am I awake? I wondered. There were no signs from outside save for the noisy crickets. I turned over, as I expected the other end of the bed to be empty. However, there Juniper was, lying to her side, hugging a giant shark plush toy.

I poked her bare back and traced my fingers against her shoulder blade. She shivered, and I let out a silent laugh.

I should be careful not to wake her, I thought. I kissed the back of her neck, soft enough so as not to wake her.

Just outside the room, I saw a faint, orange glow coming from the living room.

Huh. I was sure the lights were off.

Despite the excitement earlier, I had a lapse in judgment where I forgot that we had a third person living with us now.

If Juniper is next to me, and the light is on…

I considered that maybe Juniper had been up earlier, decided to watch TV, and then went back to bed and forgot to turn the light off in the living room. I don’t know why I considered that, given Juniper wasn’t one to leave lights on, but here we were.

I pulled the covers off of me. I didn’t care that I was in nothing but my underwear (I can’t sleep wholly in the nude, or I’ll get cold), as I didn’t think anyone was out there. That said, I had enough sense to put up my fluffy nightgown with little pictures of sheep (I’m not sure if the nightgown was made of wool or not, but I wouldn’t be surprised if it was) printed on it.

When I entered the living room, I saw a large and imposing figure in a dark jacket with a blanket over them seated on the couch and shivering the whole while. I jumped in place, startled by the sight, before realizing just who it was.

“Rachel?” I asked.

The previous events of the day began to return to the forefront of my mind.

Rachel looked over and smiled, the warm glow from the lamp illuminating her face.

“Can’t sleep, princess?” She asked with a voice that was both soft and sneering.

I shook my head as if I had just sniffed a pile of ghost peppers and reeling back from the scent.

“I guess I just have a lot on my mind,” I said. I wasn’t sure if that was true or not. Since being awake, I haven’t explored my thoughts all that much. Some would say it’s important to explore such things, but in my experience, that’s a surefire way to keep one awake.

“Ah. The mind is a terrible thing, isn’t it?”

“Heh...hey, why do you call me ‘princess’, anyway?”

“Maybe it’s because you seem spoiled like one. Or rather, I don’t think anyone could look at you and not want to spoil you, if you catch my drift.”

“I don’t know if that’s a compliment or an insult.”

“Complinsult, perhaps? In any case, it’s just the fact of the matter: you’re like a cute kitten or puppy who needs lots of pampering and attention.”

“Uh, thanks?”

She continued to shiver and rub her hands together while pressing the blanket tighter over her.

“Cold?” I asked.

“Don’t mind me.”

I walked over beside the couch and sat down.

“Sorry, we don’t really have central heating or cooling. Typically, it’s warm in the daytime and cool in the evening up through dawn until midday. We just figured nature knew best.”

“That must be why you have all these wires and electronics,” Rachel gestured to the lamp and the TV.

“Ah. Well, we’re not completely cut off from modern conveniences, nor are we ‘off the grid’, so to speak. I just wanted to leave the city behind, and Juniper was happy enough to support me in that dream. In her own words, ‘it gives me a chance to try new things.’ We’re also not completely cut off from the woes of money. All you see here Juniper had to save up to build. Even now, I’ll sell any extra crops to farmer’s markets, and she’ll sell her little inventions. We’ve been able to take in a modest amount. We’re not looking to make ourselves rich, and most of the time the money goes toward upkeep on the house, or buying any food we don’t already grow at the nearest grocery store.”

Noticing I had talked a lot, I stopped myself and looked up: Rachel had on a serious expression.

“Sorry, I must have bored you!”

“No, not at all. I’m interested in your life.”

“Ha…” It made me a little warm hearing that.

“But what about you?” I asked, “I’d like to know more about you.”

“There’s nothing interesting about me,” she said with an utter indifference that it cut right through me.

“That can’t be true! There has to be something!” I protested. “I mean, everyone has something interesting about them! Everyone’s got a story to tell!”

Rachel put a finger to her lips.

“Careful, you’ll wake the missus.”

“Oh, sorry. I tend to get a little emotional.”

“I know. If it will sate your curiosity just a bit…” Rachel shimmied out of her jacket, then slipped off her t-shirt.

Although I too was topless (save for the nightgown), I was reminded of the time Demetria was over and she remarked at me being topless with, “it’s a tits out kind of morning.” Despite how things ended up with her, that was a rather fond memory in hindsight.

However, with Rachel not having a care in the world (I mean, I never even got around the explaining to her that Juniper and I both had a tendency to walk in the nude around the house when it’s just us), I saw scars all across her torso and her back.

Small scars, little cuts which have turned tender, to large ones, like slashes against her chest, and a long slash across her stomach. Under her right breast, there were burn marks which extended to part of her back. Along her back were several more scars and cut marks.

“Not a pretty sight, is it?” She asked rhetorically.

“That’s not it, I was just surprised. You actually have a nice figure,” I remarked, and it was true – she had hardened, chiseled abs, large arms, broad shoulders, and her breasts were petite and sagged a little. They were rather cute.

“Thanks, but we both know this isn’t a beauty pageant.”

“Does it hurt?” I asked.

“Would you like to touch them?” She offered with a chuckle.

It felt wrong, but I couldn’t resist the temptation as I reached out for the scar across her stomach and felt the pink, tender flesh. She shook as I felt along her scar. She let out a hoarse, but faint sigh as she shivered.

“Sorry I’m a little ticklish,” she said. I looked up and met her gaze. My face turned bright red as I hurried to back away.

“So how did you get those scars?” I asked, even though I figured the answer would be the same as how she got her muscles: she was a (somewhat) professional fighter.

“Fights, mostly. But not just inside of the ring. I’ve been in fights, and other dangerous situations, throughout my life. I can’t begin to tell you all the wounds I’ve had or how I’ve acquired them all. They say every scar tells a story, but most of mine are far too boring to tell. All except for the slash across my stomach.”

“What’s interesting with that one?”

“That was the scar which ended my old life and gave me the life I have now. It’s the scar I’m most fond of,” she explained with a smile.

I felt a chill down my spine. I couldn’t really explain why, yet it felt familiar. She felt familiar.

No, what am I doing? I thought.

“What’s wrong?” Rachel asked.

“Nothing,” I replied. And surely, if something was wrong, I couldn’t identify it.

“Does what I say bother you?”

“Not at all.”

“Good. I don’t wish to trouble you, princess. Most of my past life, I would rather forget. The cause of my scar, however, holds a special place in my memories. I hope you know that I wouldn’t show this scar to anyone but you and Juniper.”

“Why us?”

“Because I feel a connection to you two. Is that wrong?”

“No, it’s not. If anything, I’m glad you feel comfortable sharing that with me.”

I stood up and motioned back toward the bedroom. Rachel shimmied back into her shirt and jacket.

“I should go back to bed…” I gestured to the bedroom door. “Sleep well, Rachel.”

“Oh, I never get much sleep, but goodnight to you,” she replied.

That too was strange. Or maybe it wasn’t. Really, nothing strange has happened since she got here. It must have just been me feeling strange about the new addition to our household.

I didn’t get much sleep that night. I stayed in bed for a while, with my thoughts running through my mind:

I know what this is, but I told myself I would be over it. I’m not going to make that same mistake with Rachel, or anyone else, for that matter. No matter what similarities or coincidences arise, I can’t be comparing others to her. She’s gone. I know this.

There is no “second chance.” I need to do right by Rachel, not because of the past, but because Rachel is Rachel.

A couple of days have passed since Rachel entered our lives.

It seemed a fine enough adjustment; she helped out around the house, swept up when asked, and even watered the crops outside without being asked to. That last part worried me, because if she gave the crops too much water, that would have been overkill.

“You know what job you would be good at? Being a scarecrow!” Juniper joked. Rachel didn’t seem so amused.

“There’s only so long that my arms can hold a T-pose,” Rachel replied.

I had to agree: I preferred it when she moved around than when she stayed still. Which brings me to what she did when she didn’t do boring chore-like things: which is to say, nothing. Or rather, she sat in the living room. Either on the couch or on the floor next to the couch.

“Rachel, can you wipe off the crumbs you left on the table after you ate that peanut butter and zucchini sandwich?” I asked. “Oh, and when you get the chance, can you go feed the chickens?”

“Rachel this, Rachel that,” the suspect in question grumbled, “I swear, this woman will be the death of me.”

We were only three days in and already having problems? Did she think of me as nagging? But I just asked for her to do so. She doesn’t even have to.

“Please don’t say that,” Juniper scolded, “Ves actually went through a tough time and jokes like that don’t really help.”

“Oh really? I wonder what that tough time was,” Rachel remarked.

“I think it would be better if Ves told you herself, and only if she feels comfortable enough to do so. Please don’t force anything out of her.”

I smiled. Good on Juniper for sticking up for me. Not that I needed much defending, but it was nice to know that when push came to shove, she had my back.

Even if she groaned about it, she ended up cleaning the table, though she declined on feeding the chickens, as in her own words, “they’re too scary.”

There were other points of contention, however, like the fact that she took super long showers. And when confronted about it, she would say, “it’s not my fault the water was cold when I got in and wouldn’t heat up.” I’d end up turning on the faucet, with the dial set all the way to ‘H’ and cry out in pain when I was scalded by the scorching hot water.

Or how sometimes she’d knock on the bedroom door, waking both Juniper and I up, and asking, “you’re not using your blanket, are you? I’d like another.” When I got up and noticed that she had not only the blanket from the couch, but also the ones from the guest room, I was a little concerned.

But I wouldn’t budge.

“Sorry, but Juniper and I need our blanket to rest. If you’re bothered that much, maybe you can layer up more,” I suggested.

“Good idea. Can I wear your guys’ clothes since you’re not wearing any?”

“No. There’s plenty of clothes in the guest room.”

“I’m mad,” Juniper said in a sleepy voice. It was clear she was sleep talking. Both Rachel and I looked toward her.

“So cute,” Rachel said.

“I know,” I agreed, before I snapped out of the admiration to go right back to the matter at hand. “Anyway, figure something out. I need sleep.”

Needless to say, I was getting stressed and wondering if Rachel really wanted to be here. At any point, I expected her to up and disappear without a single word as to where she was going. I don’t know, it was just the vibe I got from her.

Also, needless to say, because I was getting stressed, I turned to my good friend, Ms. Bong.

It was the middle of the day, four days into Rachel living here. I was in the middle of the bedroom, sat down with my legs spread and the bong between my legs. Juniper was in the middle of her workshop, out in the middle of the fields. You know, I hadn’t even taken my first hit, but wasn’t it strange all these ‘middles’ we keep having?

In fact, I only managed a single hit by the time Rachel stopped in the middle of the doorway.

“Interesting. What is that?” She asked.

I stared up. I was far from high. Far from anything, really.

“It’s a bong. I’m gonna get stoned off my tits, because you’ve been stressing me the fuck out,” I retorted. It felt way too biting and passive-aggressive, but she didn’t look startled or offended at all.

“Oh, drugs. So this is how you cope with stress,” she noted. I felt like I was being studied under a microscope.

I got up to confront her.

“Now wait just a second! There is nothing wrong with getting high to relieve stress or anxiety!”

“I never said there was. There’s no need to get defensive. Or are you insecure about your coping mechanism?”

“No. I’m not insecure at all. About anything. I’m very mentally sound, I’ll have you know.”

“Good. I’m glad you’re taking care of your mental health.”

She walked away. I felt like she had just won an argument and I opened my mouth to fire back with my own venomous words, but nothing of substance would come out. I just stood in the doorway confused.

Just who are you, Rachel, and why do you feel so familiar yet fill me with dread?

#remoras full #slice of life #writing #stories #drama #vesuvius #juniper #rhea flection #rachel flores

2 notes · View notes