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msmk11 · 1 month

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Just Like All the Other Angry Boyfriends Before

James Potter x Hufflepuff!fem!reader

WC: 4.2k

CW: angst; hurt/comfort; fluff; idiots

Summary: Two idiots in love who don’t know how to handle their emotions properly- aka school dance drama

A/n: yall said you wanted this fic even tho I lowkey hate it, so here it is!

Shrill squeals echo through the stone corridor as you make your way to the Great Hall after class. You turn the corner to find a group of girls surrounding Alice Fortescue and Frank Longbottom. Alice is blushing profusely as you hear her declare, “yes I’ll go to the formal with you!”

Frank whoops excitedly and draws Alice into a warm embrace. There are more squeals from the girls, so high pitched you’re sure they’ve shattered your ear drums. As you pass the happy couple, you smile at them warmly and share your congratulations. On the inside, however, you grimace. You’re no antagonist to fun, really, but as the winter formal continues to approach closer and closer, and you are still without a date, you find yourself beginning to reject the idea of any formal at all. It’s not that you have a lack of options either- plenty of people have asked you- but rather, you’ve been holding off in hopes that a certain special someone will.

Begrudgingly, you accept that if you put things off much longer, you will be dateless. And while you’re not necessarily opposed to going alone, you’d rather not when nearly all your friends have dates. Lily has Mary, Marlene has Dorcas, Alice has Frank, and Remus has Sirius.

That leaves you and James.

Although you’re a Hufflepuff, you throw your stuff down onto the Gryffindor table and plop into a seat next to Lily. You huff dejectedly and rest your head on her shoulder, “Why does everyone have to be all happy and in love? It’s stupid.”

“It’s not stupid honey, you’re just bitter because P-“

You slap your hand over her mouth and glare at her, “SHH there’s people around.”

“Right, sorry,” she replies, prying your hand off her mouth.

“Also…” she pauses and sniffs your hand, “is that a new lotion? What scent is it?”

Before you can answer, you’re interrupted by Mary who sits down on the other side of Lily and kisses her on the cheek.

“Uh, babe, why are you sniffing her hand?”

“I’m not weird, I swear! She’s the one who shoved her hand in my face. I just wanted to know what lotion she was using.”

Mary gives the two of you questioning looks.

“Potter” Lily mouths.

Mary nods in understanding and smirks. She wiggles her eyebrows suggestively as she shifts her attention to the raven-haired boy a few seats down.

“Still waiting for him to ask you?”

“Mhmmm.”

“You know, it is the 20th century, you could try asking him for a change.”

“Excellent idea, love! Oi, Potter, come here,” Lily shouts.

You glare at them in panic and mumble, “I hate you both.”

James looks up from his conversation with his friends and slides down the bench towards you.

“We have a very important question for you,” Lily says.

You glare at her once again, “I think Lily here is actually far over exaggerating the importance of the question. I’m sure whatever discussion you were having with Remus, Peter, and Sirius was much more urgent.”

James chuckles, “It’s the opposite actually. Remus and Sirius were arguing over what they are wearing to the formal. So really, you saved me.”

You let out the most pitiful laugh, cursing your luck.

“So… what is this very important question you wanted to ask me?”

You attempt to act nonchalant as you ask him if he has a date for the formal yet.

“Oh, the formal? Not yet, though I have a few options in mind. But if you’re implying you want to go together, I’m totally down.”

You’re pretty sure your heart skips a beat.

“I mean, I don’t want you to go alone while everyone else in the friend group has a date.”

This time, your heart drops.

“Oh, so you don’t mind doing me a favor and taking me to the formal?” You ask, an accusing tone to your voice.

“Right, that’s what friends are for,” he says, innocently.

Nail in the coffin.

“So, let me get this straight. You’ll only go with me because you feel sorry for me and because you don’t think I can get a date to the formal?” you ask angrily.

“No I-“ he begins defensively.

“Well you should know, Potter, that I do have a date to the formal, and I was only asking if you had one because I was worried you were going to be the one going alone.”

“Wait! You’re going with someone?!” He says, shocked.

“Don’t act so surprised. Just because I’m ‘one of the guys’ to you doesn’t mean I’m not desirable to other people,” you retort.

Then, you stand up and snatch your books off the table. As you storm away you hear him yell, “Wait, but who are you going with?”

Great question.

*****

Back in the Hufflepuff dorms, you sit in one of the common room chairs stewing over your recent interaction with James. While your initial reaction was anger, time has led way to more intense feelings of hurt. While he didn’t outwardly reject you, the sting of the friend zone was just as painful. You needed to move on, but with who?

The universe seems to answer your question in the form of Amos Diggory.

Amos Diggory- an arrogant, handsome, girlfriend-stealer, with an intense fear of commitment. He would be perfect.

No foreigner to flirting, you put on your most charming smile and call out, “Hey Diggory…”

He looks in your direction and you motion for him to come sit. He smiles at his friends and shoos them away. As Amos comes and sits down next to you you know that, if this goes according to plan, you will royally piss James off. The two rival in looks and on the quidditch field, and James cannot stand Amos.

“Hey gorgeous,” he says, looking you up and down.

“So, you, uh, have a date to the formal yet?”

“No, I prefer to go alone. So my options are open.”

You smirk teasingly, “What if I can convince you to change your mind?”

Amos smiles at you seductively, “I’m listening.”

“Well, you like to go to these things alone so you can entertain the attentions of many girls. But, if you go with one girl, me, you’ll get even more attention. What is going to happen when all of the girls at Hogwarts think that the Amos Diggory is off the market?”

“You have me intrigued,” he says, “And how are you not in Slytherin with that devious little mind of yours?”

“I prefer to keep it my little secret.”

Then, you lean closer to him, “Though I guess it’s our little secret now.”

Amos is falling perfectly into your trap, and you know that he already wants to kiss you. You pull away before he even gets the chance.

“Before I agree, what’s in this for you?” He asks.

“Revenge on James Potter…”

If your flirting hadn’t fully won him over, this does.

*****

In the evening, you make your way to the Gryffindor common room where you always do homework with your friends. Though James, Peter, and Sirius consistently show up late, you make sure to leave extra early to avoid conversation with James at all costs.

You forget, however, that James sometimes knows you better than you know yourself. So when you arrive, he is already there on the couch, waiting for you. Lily and Remus are spread out on the floor, Mary is sprawled across a red chair, and Dorcas is lying in Marlene’s lap reading her textbook while Marlene writes a paper. James shoots up from his seat as you walk in.

“Hey! Can we talk?” He asks anxiously.

Although they pretend to hide it, you know your friends are secretly listening. Still, you don’t care.

“No, James, we can’t. Although it may be uncharted territory, you and I are in what people call a fight. So just let me be.”

“But shouldn’t we talk?”

“No, James. I don’t want to talk. Not right now.”

The fight leaves his body and he retreats, “fine. I’ll just leave you be.”

He grabs his stuff and goes up to his dorm as you settle yourself in his place.

“Don’t you think you’re being a little harsh?” Remus asks softly.

“Maybe,” you say, “But I’m sick of always downplaying my feelings to protect his. It’s not fair to me.”

Lily grabs your hand, “you’re right, it’s not fair. And I’m sorry for pushing all of this on you, it wasn’t my place.”

“Yeah, I’m sorry too,” Mary adds.

“Well, I’m not. This just encouraged me to get over my silly little crush and focus my attentions on someone who will actually take interest in me. There are plenty of people out there.”

“Hell yeah there are!” Marlene says encouragingly.

Dorcas smacks her arm, “Marlene! James is one of your best friends!”

“So is she! I love them both, but she’s right, she needs to do what’s best for her.”

“Just don’t push him away completely,” Dorcas tells you seriously.

“I won’t,” you sigh, “He‘s still so important to me. It just won’t be in the way that I hoped.”

Silence falls over the group.

“Who fucking died?”

Everyone jumps and turns to look in the direction of the voice. Behind you stands Sirius and Peter, both with perplexed looks on their faces.

“James, after she fucking tore him apart earlier,” Marlene replies, motioning to you.

Peter nods as he plops down by your feet, “Oh right! I heard about that.”

Sirius smacks you upside the head, “Yeah, what was that all about?”

“He basically called me a fucking unattractive loser. What else was I supposed to do?” You say, smacking him back.

“I think you’re over-exaggerating just a little bit,” Mary responds cautiously.

“I mean, I think he was just trying to be nice. Maybe it hurt because he essentially friendzoned you?” Lily adds.

“Wait, do you have a crush on James?” Sirius asks you.

“Sirius, have you really never noticed?” Remus responds disbelievingly.

Sirius only shrugs his shoulders.

“Okay, I get it, I get it. James is the perfect golden boy and I’m just another one of Potter’s stupid fangirls who follows him blindly and makes a fool of themselves.”

“Honey no,” Lily starts, “it’s not that it’s-“

“Can you not lecture me, please?” You interrupt, “Maybe I overreacted, but is it so wrong to be angry about being pitied. Especially by someone you really care about?”

“No, it’s not,” Peter tells you, “I get it.”

“Thank you,” you respond dejectedly.

It’s quiet for a moment and you’re stuck stewing in your own self-loathing.

Then, Lily speaks up again, “Uhm, I have one more question, and then I’ll drop the subject.”

You nod, encouraging her to continue.

“Who are you going to take to the formal? Because you told James you had a date, even though you didn’t.”

“Oh, yeah, uhmmm about that…” you say, laughing nervously.

“What rash thing did you do now?” Dorcas asks.

“I may or may not have asked Amos Diggory to be my date to the dance…. And he said yes.”

Marlene laughs loudly, “Oh shit!”

*****

To avoid conflict, you decide that it’s best for you to go to the formal with Amos and his friends rather than string him along with yours. Tension is already high between James and you, and you know Amos’ being there would only make things worse. You try to push it out of your mind, but you can’t help wondering who James is taking to the formal with him. You picture all the prettier, smarter, and better girls he could be going with, and your stomach begins to ache. You are also worried about what people will say in relation to you going with Amos.

Your thoughts start to spiral. Will people hate you? Will James hate you? Is your dress all wrong? Will you be the worst dressed there? The anxieties are endless and there seems to be no relief in sight.

Still, you push through and doll yourself up, masking your true feelings behind layers of hairspray, makeup, and itchy fabric. Your dress is light blue with a silvery sheer fabric over top, like fresh snow on a frozen lake. The top half is form-fitting with silvery straps, and the bottom spreads outward in a loose skirt. You twist back the front strands of your hair with silver clips and adorn your face with light makeup and shimmery eyeshadow. At promptly eight you drag yourself to the common room where Amos sits with his friends and their dates.

You put on a fake smile, “Amos, you look handsome.”

He looks you up and down, “I know. And you look hot.”

What a gentleman.

You say a polite thank you and avoid some of the stares you’re getting from the other girls. You can tell that some are jealous already, yet they maintain outward politeness, which you’re grateful for.

Amos, at least, extends his arm, which you grab, as you walk towards the Great Hall. Your walk is filled with polite conversation about simple things from quidditch, to class, and plans for the holidays. So far, it’s not as bad as you thought, though you wished you would have just gone dateless with your friends.

You cast these regrets aside, however, when you arrive at your destination. To no one’s surprise, the Hogwarts decorating committee has outdone themselves once again. The typical long, wooden tables are gone and in place is a magnificent white dance floor that seems to shimmer like the snow. Warm, golden globes of light hang from the sky and snowflakes fall from above, though never reaching the ground. The room is an explosion of silvers, whites, and blues, and you’re sure you’ve stepped into a winter wonderland.

“This is just-“ Amos begins.

“Wow” you finish, “Like a winter wonderland.”

“And you’re its queen,” he says.

You blush in spite of yourself.

“Compliments won’t get you a kiss so soon,” you tease, “It’s only eight.”

He bites his lip, “fine. But I can only restrain myself from a beautiful girl so long.”

You laugh lightly and swat him on the shoulder. Then, music begins to play.

Amos motions towards the dance floor, “shall we?”

*****

As James adjusts his tie in the mirror, he can’t help but think about what a pathetic loser he is. Although he’d had plenty of girls who he could have gone to the formal with, he continued to wait, assuming there would be someone better coming along. Who that person was, he wasn’t sure. But now, he was alone.

And then there was you. He doesn't know what happened. One second you two were fine, and then suddenly, you blew up. While he knows that he insulted you, he can’t understand why you are so angry. Sirius said not to overthink it, that girls are just complicated, but you are one of his best friends. He knows there is something else going on and it’s left a terrible pit in his stomach.

“Earth to James!”

“Huh?” He awakes from his trance and notices that Peter is waving his hand in front of his face.

“You ready to go?”

“Oh, yeah.”

They head downstairs and meet up with the rest of the group- Pete and his girl from Ravenclaw, Sirius and Remus, Marlene and Dorcas, Mary and Lily, and you-

Not present because he is an ass.

James wonders who you’re going with.

They all cheer loudly, “James, you look great!”

“Thanks, guys, but it’s you all that look great.”

“Hell yeah we do!” Sirius exclaims.

Everyone laughs and begins to file out the portrait hole down to the Great Hall. Despite being the only dateless friend, James’ spirits are lifted by their jokes and ramblings. When they reach the dance, everyone oohs and aahs over the shimmery decorations. Instantly, James cranes his neck, looking for you in the crowd as he walks with the group towards a table off to the left. As they all set their stuff down, the music begins to play and couples rush to the floor. His friends join them, excited to dance.

“James, you coming?” Sirius asks.

He shakes his head, “next song.”

Sirius shrugs and walks off with Remus. James continues to search the crowd, looking for you. He realizes he doesn’t know what you’re wearing- and he supposes he never asked. James wonders if best friends are supposed to do that sort of thing.

Probably.

It hits him, then. With everything that’s been going on lately- being head boy, quidditch captain, and taking ridiculously hard classes, he’d sort of ignored you. It’s no wonder you’re so angry with him.

James feels totally guilty until he sees you. It’s then, he realizes, that he has a reason to be angry too. There you are, after all his moping and worrying, with Amos fucking Diggory. James knows that he hasn’t been the best of friends lately, but Diggory? That was his rival! You were crossing a line.

But what really bothers him the most is the way you’re laughing at something Diggiry said. He is hardly funny, and has the personality of a piece of paper. And why are you leaning so close to him? He’s not even that attractive or charming.

As you swirl across the dance floor, he watches how your hands hold tightly to Diggory’s shoulders, like he’s your anchor. James also notices Diggory’s hands around your waist, far too close to your ass, and his blood boils. No way would he let his rival feel up his friend.

When the song ends, James begins to stalk towards you two, but is pushed backwards by Sirius and Remus.

“Not worth it mate,” Sirius warns.

“But Padfoot, this is unbelievable. She is unbelievable. How could she ever agree to go with him? She knows how much I hate him, and is just trying to get back at me.”

“Mate, it’s this type of thinking that pushed her into his arms,” Remus mumbles.

“What, what do you mean?”

“James, she asked him to the formal after you basically made her feel like shit. Whether she realized it or not, she turned to who she thought would hurt you the most. She wanted you to feel what she was feeling, even a little bit.”

“It’s not her best decision, but ignoring her wasn’t yours either,” Sirius adds.

James rubs his face tiredly, “God, I know.”

Sirius pats his back, “Just… take a few minutes and then come join us. Don’t let it ruin your night.”

“And while you’re sitting here, maybe reflect a little more on why you’re so upset,” Remus adds.

“Rem-” Sirius says with a warning tone.

He puts his hands up defensively, “I didn’t say anything. Let’s go.”

As they walk away James notices their slight bickering. He laughs at them in spite of himself. Secretly, he’s always been a little bit jealous of their relationship. Though they are far from perfect, they’re comfortable with each other in a way that he can only hope for. He thinks the fact that they were friends for five years before they dated helped. There’s this trust and friendship that is so necessary in order to support the love and passion that comes with romance.

As another song ends, James decides not to get up from his seat. He watches Amos and you some more. While his blood is still boiling, there is a twinge of something else.

“Maybe reflect a little more on why you’re upset.”

*****

Surprisingly, you’re having more fun with Amos than you thought you would. While you would never date him, you appreciate his company tonight. He’s been making you laugh all night, so you’re surprised when another song comes on and he suddenly gets serious.

“You know, gorgeous, I’m not one to waste my time on Potter, but he’s been glaring in our direction for the past fifteen minutes.”

“Just ignore him.”

“I would, but it’s kind of hard when he is burning holes into my head.”

You huff apologetically, “God, I’m so sorry. I hope it’s not ruining your night.”

“Eh, I’m used to Potter throwing temper tantrums when he doesn’t get what he wants. He’s clearly just mad he’s not dancing with the most beautiful girl in the room.”

“Pfft, yeah right. He’s just mad that I’m dancing with you. Otherwise, he wouldn’t give a shit.”

“Can I give you my honest opinion?”

You hum in agreement.

“As I’m sure you know, I have a reputation for girlfriend stealing.”

“Yes? And?” You say, confused.

“Well, with stealing girlfriends also comes a lot of angry boyfriends. And Potter over there, he looks exactly like all the angry boyfriends I’ve dealt with, who want to beat the shit out of me.”

“Which makes no sense, because he doesn’t act like a boyfriend whenever we’re together. It’s not fucking fair. He doesn’t want me, but it’s like he doesn’t want anyone else to have me either.”

“Listen to me. I may not know what the fuck is going on with you two, but it’s pretty clear to anyone that you guys both have feelings for each other. So, as your date, I think it's my duty to end ours early. We both achieved our goals- all the girls in the room want me, and Potter can’t take his eyes off of you.”

You release a shaky sigh, “Okay, fine.”

As the song ends he releases you and gives you a wink, “Well, for now, this is goodbye. Since I’m sure you’ll be Potter’s girlfriend by the end of the night, I imagine we are going to be mortal enemies from now on. Or until graduation at least.”

You chuckle a little as you straighten his tie one last time.

“Go get him,” he says.

You stand up on your tip toes and kiss him on the cheek, “Bye Diggory. Next time I speak to you, you better be settled down with a nice girl, at 9 ¾, with your rowdy kids for their first year of school.”

He laughs and you part ways for the night. Before you allow yourself to approach James, you walk outside to the courtyard nearby. You lean up against the railing and look out towards the stars. The cool breeze fills your lungs and is comfortable against your hot skin. It’s silent except for the soft notes of music drifting out from the Great Hall.

“So, you and Diggory huh?”

You jump at James’ voice and turn to him, “Yep, and you and the invisible girl. I thought you were Mr. Hotshot, with plenty of girls lined up as possible dates?”

“And I thought Hufflepuffs were supposed to be loyal.”

You scoff, “It wasn’t personal, James. Just a silly little date to a silly little formal.”

“Bullshit” he yells, “You were mad so you went and found a date that you knew I would hate!”

“God, you are so conceited! Not everything is about you. Maybe I just liked Amos’ company. He’s not all that bad, you know.”

“Oh, so now you’re defending him? Next thing I know there’ll be wedding bells.”

“Maybe there will be. He’s funny, attractive, and actually gives me the time of day!” you retort.

“Just so he can get you into his bed, fuck you, and then ignore you after,” James shouts back.

You stare at each other in silence for a moment.

“I mean, Merlin, is that really what you want? I know it's not my place to give my opinion about who you date or-”

“And that’s the whole problem,” you interrupt.

“What?”

“James, you're my best friend. I want your opinion about these things- even if I don’t always want to hear it. It at least shows you care about me. Lately, it’s like I don’t even exist.”

“I know, I know and I’m sorry. You deserve better. A better friend and…” he steps a little closer, “a better romantic interest?”

You let out a small laugh, “romantic interest?”

“What? If this night has shown me anything, I clearly don’t know what- or who- you’re looking for in romance. And that’s on me. But I want that to change from now on.”

You take a deep breath and step even closer to him. You look up into his hazel eyes, your faces so close your noses are almost touching.

“Well, in the name of change, I guess I have to confess, I do have a romantic interest… in you.”

“And as a part of my duties as your best friend, I believe it my responsibility to tell you that… you should go for it.”

Already so close together, you merely stand on your tip toes and lock lips with James. He kisses back and puts his hands around your waist. For a second, he pulls away.

You look up at him with questioning eyes.

His grip on your waist tightens, “I don’t ever want another man’s hands here ever again. It was driving me crazy tonight, the way Amos was touching you.”

You smirk at him, “Jealous are we?”

He grunts in affirmation and pulls you in again. The kiss lasts a few minutes with you up against the railing. At first it’s fast and passionate. But with time it becomes slower and more sweet. More loving.

Eventually, you slowly pull apart. You look at him softly and ask breathlessly, “So, do you have a date to the formal yet?”

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nezuscribe · 9 months

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𝐛𝐮𝐫𝐧 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮

pairing: gojo satoru x fem!reader

summary: you have everything you could have asked for in life. a beautiful home in greenwhich, just far away from london so that you don't have to mingle with city life, but close enough to be surrounded by the ton. a library with all the books you could ask for and a friend you care for dearly. all except for the man of your dreams, who just so happens to be your best friends brother. worst of all, he only sees you as such. his sisters best friend. (bridgerton!au)

warnings: 18+ mdni, gojo doesn't know how to communicate his feelings, slight angst (with comfort), smut, eating out (fem! receiving), fingering, (happy ending)

word count: 17.3k+ (i have no idea how)

note: yes, this is inspired by penelope and colin. yes, i know that colin isn't a viscount. their story is coming out later than expected so i took matters into my own hands. tysm @jadeisthirsting for beta reading! (if you saw this the first time no you didn't, i hope tumblr doesn't glitch out again)

jjk masterlist

You had a great life, as far as it went.

You were born into a wealthy family, far more wealthy than they deserved to be. You had maids at your beck and call and did not need to worry about the future as long as you acted correctly. You had book upon books, as many as you could dream of, so long as you didn’t bore your mother too much with them. You had any sort of food you could dream of and you had the most caring friend in the world who loved you very much.

Honestly, what more could a woman ask for?

“I say we move the whole ordeal to Friday, seeing how Satoru is only arriving on Wednesday. But my mother insisted that we keep in on Thursday because the rest of London just couldn’t wait to see my dashing brother…” Lily continued her furious rant as she paced back and forth the vast expanse of your family’s drawing room, shaking her head in clear frustration.

“And you want it to be a day later…because…?” You sipped quietly on your tea, trying to keep your smile at a minimum. It was hard not to get giggly when Lily’s face got red and her eyes bugged out of her sockets. For such a pretty girl it tended to shift her features whenever she got angry or annoyed.

“Well, he’s going to be tired!” She stopped her pacing as she stared at you with her mouth a bit open as if it were the most obvious answer, “And whenever Satoru is tired he’s so difficult to deal with. He’s going to want to talk about his travels for at least three days before he’s ready to mingle with the rest of the works!”

You nodded heavily, showing her that you were completely on her side.

“Has he written to you?” She asked and then quickly shook her head, despite the fact you were going to answer with a quiet yes to her question. He had written you a few letters, all of them stashed in your vanity as you read over them, each going over his travels, sometimes sending you little knick-knacks he saw.

“Not the point. What I’m trying to say is that my mother always goes over the limit with how much she welcomes her children. And Satoru for that matter! Christ, he’s twenty-five and unmarried!”

You wanted to sink into your seat in embarrassment. You were only so much younger and had never had even an interaction with a suitor before.

Life was great, for the most part.

As much as you couldn’t complain, there was a small matter at hand that was growing increasingly more alarming the more the years went on.

For as long as you could remember, you and Lily were set on never getting married. Ever since she read that one Jane Austen book she was hellbent on independence and no men. You tagged along, seeing how that was a better excuse than admitting no man had even asked you to join him to be his partner to dance before.

Lily didn’t seem to care much for this. While she was set on her celibacy pact, she had been approached before. It doesn’t change much, but it did at least show her that somebody wants her. You were either such as a spinster or married to some ancient man your mother had to dig out from some corner of the market.

“And Satoru…” Lily rambled on, but all it did was remind you of an even worse fact.

You were terribly in love with her brother.

You have known the Gojo family for ten years, five months, twelve days, and two hours, and you have been in love with Gojo Satoru for ten years, five months, twelve days, and thirty minutes.

Their family had immigrated from Japan months before the oldest child was born, but they had only moved to Greenwich ten years, five months, and ten days ago. You met them only two days later when you accidentally wandered into their gardens, unknowing that a family had just moved in.

The first time you met that particular Gojo, you were thirteen and facing serious issues with yourself and your own family. You wanted to move to America in hopes that the boys over there would fancy you more and your mother forbade it. Satoru laughed when he saw your horrified face popping up from their blackberry bush, definitely not expecting to see anybody there.

“Hello there,” the stranger called out. You thought he was a grandfather with the way his hair was artic white, but he only seemed to be a bit older than you the closer he got.

“I’m not stealing from you I swear!” You cried out as you let the blackberries tumble out of your stained hands. You cannot be taken to prison, you simply wouldn’t survive.

“I can see that.” He crossed his arms as he tried not to laugh at the way your dress was stained a dark blue color.

He introduced himself, and Lily, and soon, you and the girl were attached at the hip.

It didn’t help that as kind and as charming as he was, he only saw you as his sister's closest friend. It also didn’t help that every other woman in high society seemed to be in love with the man and it certainly made it so much more horrific that he seemed to have his eyes on everybody else but you.

He, much like his sister, was averse to the idea of marriage, but for a completely different reason.

He seemed to despise the idea of being committed, which is most likely why he had been traveling the entirety of Europe and Asia for the past year or so. Despite his mother’s frantic worrying about setting him up with a respectable lady, he pushed them all aside and fled (in some sense) and will be making his grand appearance a couple of days from now. Everybody is chattering with excitement. You’re trying not to fill with total impending dread.

It had already taken everything you had to pretend that he didn’t exist and that he had simply disappeared, and you knew your wretched mind would fall for him just as quickly as it did the first time around when you were set to see him next week.

“...and, are you even listening?” Lily asked, her voice garbling back to life as you snapped your eyes back to hers, covering your mouth with your teacup as you insistently nodded, trying to keep your smile from faltering as she squinted her eyes to look you over and see what was wrong.

“I’m totally in tune with you Lils,” you insisted, nibbling on a cookie to help you with nausea which only seemed to make it worse.

“Hm,” she grunted, not seeming to believe you but not truly caring as she continued, “And thank the heavens you’ll be there beside me, for who knows what would become of me in such an unruly crowd of men and women just waiting for my brother to make his entrance. I’d lose my sanity.”

Yes, you thought, how lucky. If only love worked that way, of ignoring it until it faded. If only.

“I’ll be there.” You promised.

For better or for worse, you’d be there.

---

The ball was just as you had imagined it.

Extravagant, elegant, large, and incredibly crowded.

One of the perks of being an outsider in these sorts of scenes is you didn’t have to dance anymore (no matter how much it stung the first time around getting used to this fact).

Lily was off somewhere, being forced to socialize. Your other sisters were also lost in the crowd, either dancing or being swooned by a potential match.

You were yet to see the man of the hour, but then again, so was everybody else. He was either hiding away or being swallowed whole by the hoards of people eager to get a glimpse of him.

Not that you wanted to see him, of course. Just curious.

The food was, as always, a bonus. Nobody was going to judge you for scarfing anything down when you had begrudgingly sworn off marriage, and perhaps one of the good things about Lily's pact was that you didn’t care much about the public eye anymore.

“Please, at least act like we’re not starving you.” Your mother pleaded, unfortunately, stuck to your side for the night as she eyes you and your plate.

“I’m trying my best,” you reasoned, making sure you didn’t drop anything on your dress.

“The Viscount is coming tonight,” she tried to think and you snorted, earning some distasteful looks from the widows around you.

“And he’s just dying to see me, I suppose?” You rolled your eyes at the idea, to help the sting from your own words. It was better to be rationable than to be delusional.

“Well it doesn’t hurt to-”

“Try?” You cut her off with another laugh as you chew on an eclair, “Might as well. Right after the Princess introduces herself I’ll go up.” The two of you eye the girl in the diamond-encrusted gown with an equally bright tiara on her head. Your mother gave up the argument.

For the last couple of days, you have been at a mental war with yourself. On the one hand, it surely must mean something if he wrote you letters. On the other one, he wrote it to his entire family and he probably views you as such. No matter how much you want to pretend that the Gojo cares for you, it won’t be in the same way that measures how much you care for him.

“I’m going to get some more of these macaroons, I’ll be right back.” You excuse yourself as your mother pressed her lips into a thin line, wanting to push you to dance but knowing no amount of persuading was going to change your mind when it was already set on something.

Wading through the dense crowd was certainly a feat, but you did it nonetheless. From the dessert table, you could barely make out the pop of chartreuse that was Lily's gown, and you wondered how much longer until she’d be free to giggle and gossip with you.

Your eyes scanned over the little sweets carefully as you mentally weighed which one would taste good and which one would be a surprise in the kindest sense of the word. The colorful ones were often pretty but they tested either too bland or too bitter and the ones with caramel side sugar tended to be too sweet. All the good macaroons with the pistachio filling were gone, which was odd because you could only count on your fingers how many people aside from you tended to favor that one.

“Looking for something?”

A green macaron was held in front of your face, slowly forcing you to turn your head in its direction as it began to pull away from you

Him.

“Oh!”

Oh? If only you could hit yourself in the head that would be great.

“Oh?” Gojo chuckled, his brows pinching together in slight confusion at your reaction as his lips threatened to pull into a teasing smile, “I haven’t seen you in a year and that's what you’ve got to say?”

You try not to let your heart flutter at his cheeky manner as you roll your eyes, your smile growing as you take him in.

He’s gotten taller if that was even possible. His hair is still as white as it was, and it seems that no amount of sun was going to change that. He’s gotten a little bit tanner, no longer that frigid pale hue to his skin that made you worry he’d drop dead at any moment. He’s unfortunately more muscular, which just means you have to cast away the scrawny image you’ve made in your mind in hopes that he’d come back anemic.

His eyes are just as captivating as ever, blue and inviting. His jaw is sharper and yet he has no facial hair on his face. Which you prefer on most men but you’re glad he’s never given into that trend.

Most importantly, he still looks like that boy you fell in love with so many years ago, and no time away would ever change you at your core.

You try to not let your neck prickle with heat as he seems to assess you the same way you're doing to him, try not to feel self-conscious as his eyes roam over your features. Sure, a person can change in a year, but you wouldn’t bet you’ve changed that much that would warrant this amount of staring.

“So…?”

“‘Toru, hi!” You snap out of your state, watching as his face picks up and breaks into a grin as you set your plate down somewhere, seemingly now realizing that Satoru is here and in front of you, “My, you’ve grown so much!”

“Really?” He looks at his torso and his arms as if he can’t believe it.

“Well, a bit,” you curse at your awkwardness as he cocks a brow, “I’m sorry, I’m a bit out of my element tonight. I apologize for my earlier reaction.” You duck your head down for a second as he waves it off, hopefully not offended.

You’re glad this little table is tucked away in an alcove away from most of the public eye, and the only people around the two of you are older people and the people standing outside in the gardens. Either they don’t see the man or they’re being somewhat human and granting the two of you some privacy.

“Apology accepted, but not needed,” he teases, patting your shoulder affectionately as you try not to act as if that single touch made you reconsider the idea of marriage.

“How are you?” He asks after a beat, not affected by your out-of-character attitude as he tilts his head to the side.

“As good I could be,” you offer him a wink that came off as an elongated blink, “Whatever Lily filled you in on has most likely happened to me too.” He chuckles, his laughter the sound of melted honey.

Fuck, you’re never going to get over him.

“And you? How were your trips?” You egged him on, eyes tracing him, watching as some pink dusted over his cheeks.

“Boring. Couldn’t wait to come back.” He says, but you can hear the sarcasm in his voice. Mixed with the way he couldn’t contain his bits of laughter, you laughed alongside him.

“I’d believe it if not for your tan and newfound outlook on life, or so it seems from how Lily describes it.”

“She exaggerates everything,” he waves it off, and you wonder what that double-edged sword implies.

“I-”

“He’s here!” You hear a loud voice cut you off as the two of you look over your shoulder to see his mother leading the awaiting princess and her train to where the two of you are standing, “He seems to be getting warmed up with this fine lady!” She says your name as heat rushes to your cheeks in embarrassment.

It was only seconds before you were surrounded by men and women you had never seen before, all hanging off of Satoru’s words as he scrambled to answer all of their questions.

And so it begins, you say to yourself as you push away from them, going to find Lily as you wonder why you even try.

You miss the way he calls out for you, quiet enough so that nobody else hears it, but loud enough that his chest tightens in confusion at the sheer desperation of it.

---

“I despise men!”

You’re at the Gojo estate for once, and Lily has started a new tirade that has lasted for the last hour.

“What brought this on?” You press, exchanging worried glances with Satoru and her younger sister as she groans, jamming her palms into her eyes as she vehemently shakes her head.

“Does this,” she shoves her hand, more importantly, her ring finger without a ring, in front of your face, “Look like I’m keen on getting married to you?”

“No….?” You mutter, scared of what she would say next.

“Does it look like an invitation to barge into my home?”

“Not exactly,” You say, earning a sympathetic look for Satoru as she glares at him.

“Does it look like I want to get frisky in the broom cupboards?”

“Christ! Lily, your sisters here!” You shout, jumping to cover the young girl's ears. Lily waves it off and Satoru just chuckles, a twinkle in his eyes as you usher the girl out of the tea room as you slam the door shut.

“This certainly beats the beaches in Venice,” Satoru says as you near the table again, winking at you as you laugh quietly.

“I’m so glad I’m not getting married. You should be too,” she points her finger at you as you look up at her, “Men are nothing but evil, money hungry, sex driven-”

“Charming, majestic-” Satoru talks over her as she talks even louder.

“Dirty animals!” She finishes with a cry.

You and Satoru share a glance as you try to laugh. She’s not wrong, far from it. The majority of men in this place needed to be sent back to their creator, but Lily had a vein in his forehead that was protruding at an odd angle.

“You laugh now, but you’ll be thanking me fifty years from now.” She warns as you nod, acting totally compliant with her.

“You’re still with her on her no-marriage pact?” Satoru asks as he stands up, walking past Lily as he looks out from the window, seemingly admiring the gardens outside. He glances over at you as you sink into the satin cushions beneath you.

“Yes,” but your answer came out shaky and unsure.

“Of course she is,” Lily answered for you with a definite nod, “And besides, she’s the luckier one. It’s not like any man has even asked her to marry anyway.” She says jokingly, shoving a biscuit in her mouth as she plops herself down beside you, nudging your shoulder with hers as if it were the funniest thing in the world.

You wish the sofa could swallow you whole.

“Hey,” Satoru turns around, brows furrowed as he looks at his sister, but the door opens before he can finish his sentence.

“Miss Gojo,” their butler, Fred, who you’ve known since you’ve known Lily announces for her as he stands at the foot of the door, “Your mother has requested your presence in her quarters.”

Lily stands up with a groan, wiping the crumbs off of her dress as she makes sure there’s nothing around the corners of her mouth.

“I’m needed elsewhere,” she pats your arm caring for it despite having her words wanting to make you plummet yourself off of a cliff, “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

You give her a weak goodbye, watching as she leaves with the door shutting behind her as you sit up a bit straighter, getting ready to leave yourself.

You stand up, careful not to make any eye contact with Satoru out of sheer embarrassment as you smooth out the wrinkles in your dress, hoping the silence would suffocate you faster than it would him.

“Lily talks too much sometimes,” he finally says, stepping away from the window as he takes a two closer to your direction, before passing, “I’d apologize on her behalf but I’m pretty sure she’s already forgotten what she’s said.” He tries to lighten the mood and bless his soul, but you can already feel your spirits for the day sour.

“It’s alright,” you promise, though he seems to disagree but you continue anyway, “I know her, she doesn’t mean it.” Still doesn’t mean it didn’t hurt, a part of you chides.

“Are you leaving?” He asked, taking another tentative step forward.

“I was planning on it,” you say with a little chuckle, hoping that your eyes watering up wasn’t too noticeable, “Is that alright with you?”

He looked at you with his bright eyes and just blinked, taking a while to reach his senses.

“Y-yes! Yes, quite alright. Let me just get my coat…” He muttered, brushing past you as you quickly tried to reject his incoming offer.

“There’s no need!” You run a bit to catch up to him and his fast pace, “My house is barely two skips away,” you lamely joke, hoping he’d give it up. You wanted to wallow in your self-pity on your walk home, not have to converse with the one man who’d inadvertently give you more to pity over.

“Not a chance,” he argued, draping the coat in question over his arm, “What sort of person would I be if I let you walk out alone?”

Any other person, you wanted to say but stopped yourself.

“I don’t mean to bother you…” You wrong your hands in a nervous state, eyes darting everywhere but his.

You were trying to work on your silly crush this past week, which had unfortunately ramped up ever since he came back. In response, you worked out that the best solution to getting over it was to act like he didn’t exist and ignore him whenever possible. Clearly, it was working out completely in your favor.

“Not a bother at all.” He insisted, linking his other arms with yours as you jumped a bit in surprise. He was forward, if anything.

“Fred,” he calls out, getting the butler's attention as you try to hide yourself away, “Tell my mother I’ll be back in a bit.” The man just nods, opening up the front doors as Satoru leads the two of you out.

The sun was out and working away, which didn’t help with the heat already prickling away through your skin. The Gojo estate was large, but hidden away, and for that you were glad. You could only imagine the gossip that would arise if certain ladies in society were to see you (helplessly) draped over the bachelor's arm.

“Are you enjoying being back here?” You asked, trying to exert your confidence when you were feeling anything but.

It’s not like you were unsure of yourself at most times, it’s just that when you’re around the one man you’ve been in love with since childhood and he feels nothing of the sort, you can’t help but be more conscious over everything.

Satoru looked at you, shrugging as he pursed his lips, thinking of an answer.

“I missed it,” he says, “But I mainly came back for my family and my friends and well…” He trailed off, chewing on his lip as he waved off his thoughts as if it didn’t matter, “Nonetheless, now that I’ve been around them, I remember why I wanted to leave.”

And sometimes, despite him not wanting to, made you feel as if you were the most important person he’s had the pleasure of talking to, when in reality that’s just in his nature.

“Is Lily pestering you too much?” You tease, a little smile on your face that wrinkles the edges of your eyes. He simply stared at you again, his eyes bright.

“That,” he playfully tugged on your arm, “And the fact that my mother has bombarded me with the idea of marriage. And Luke is having troubles with his fiancé and Annie doesn’t want to learn to read…it’s all just very chaotic.” He finished with a tired laugh, as if that’s all he could muster up.

“Seems like a normal day in your house, if I’m being honest.” You lament, kicking a pebble with the point of your shoe.

“I guess so,” he heaves a sigh that comes out dramatically, “Honestly, I don’t know how you’ve put up with it all these years.”

You scoff, digging your elbow into his side a bit to show that you were offended by his statement.

“Your family is perhaps the closest thing I have to a second family!”

“And who says family can’t get on your last nerve?” He argued, and that shut you up. He was, indubitably, correct.

“Yes, well,” you stumble to find some reasoning and he laughs seeing you falter, knowing that he got you cornered, “‘Toru, you are simply a horrible influence to be around.” Is all you can come up with, and despite the severity of your words it only seems to spur him on even more.

“And yet you can’t seem to get enough of me, can you?”

You almost stopped in your tracks, your heart seizing in your chest as you try not to fumble up your well-made facade of indifference.

All you could remember upon his statement were the words he spoke so long ago, not knowing you’d heard them.

“Charles, you don’t get it, I don’t want a wife!” Satoru exclaimed as he snapped at his friend. It was a gala held at the queen's palace and you had strayed too far away from Lily and found yourself hiding behind a wall as you eavesdropped on the conversation.

“Not even the Princess?” Another man pushed as you heard Satoru let out a heavy sigh. You peeled around to see him pinching the bridge of his nose.

“I don’t want to be tied down. You saw what happened to my parents.” He argued. A part of you sympathized with him.

“Well,” you could make out this voice as his younger brother, two years older than you he went to thinking, “What about that friend of Lily’s? She seems nice enough.”

The hair on your arm pricked upwards. Surely they couldn’t be talking about you.

“Who?” Satoru asks and his brother says your name in a hushed whisper, as if you held more weight in your title than the Princess did.

“Her? No, absolutely not,” he said with such disgust that his friends thought he was joking, “You’re out of your mind if you’d think I’d want to court her.”

Your heart, full of love and hope and dreams cracked, crumbled in your chest. And you left, running away because that’s all you knew how to do and sobbed your eyes out to Lily, stating that you heard somebody talking bad about you, refusing to admit that it was her own brother that was causing you to break in front of her.

A part of you felt pathetic for still caring for him after that night, but there’s not much fight in you when it comes to the people you loved. You pulled away, sure, and stopped your lame excuses of flirting, but you never stopped. He never found out that you heard, so he continued as your friend and you continued as the shameless woman.

“Right,” you swallow thickly, glad that your estate is now growing closer and closer, knowing that you feel sick and can’t handle it anymore, “Thank you so much for your help, but I’m sure I can make the treacherous journey on my own now.”

You wring your hand away from his arm, you smile wobbling as you tip your head in his direction, watching him try to make sense of your quick change in nature.

“Let me take you up to your door,” he started but you raised your hand to silence him, shaking your head.

“That would be too much to ask for. I will leave you here…um, Satoru,” you say politely, not noting the way his jaw clenched at your sudden formality when addressing him, “I’ll see you tomorrow, hopefully.”

And you left quickly before he could say anything else. You must stay focused on the reality of your situation;

Your best friend's brother just simply wasn’t in love with you.

---

“Miss,”

You perked up from your chair in your quaint little library, setting your book down as you watched one of the maids, Ella, politely calls from the door.

“There’s a gentleman outside calling for you.”

Your brows furrowed as you found a marker so that you don’t lose your place and purse your lips together in questioning.

“Do you know who…?” Your head cocked to the side as you stood up, walking near her as you wondered if it were that delivery boy who said he’d come with the new copies of the Brontë books you’d been eyeing for the past month.

“It’s the Viscount Gojo, miss.” She said simply.

Your face dropped, and you watched as confusion spread across hers.

“Him? Here? Did he say what was wrong?” You began to rustle around, trying to find something to throw on top of your slip.

Did something happen to Lily? Did she run away? Was their mother in trouble? You could recall her telling you that her head was aching, could something serious have happened because of that? Christ, you should have told somebody about it rather than comfort her and make her tea. Was he leaving again? Perhaps-

“He said he wanted to see you miss, that’s all he told me.” She seemed apprehensive, judging your face to see if you were maybe feeling ill due to your reaction.

“Um, alright, just,” you hurried around, trying your fastest to get to your room, “Tell him I’ll be down in a few minutes! Don’t tell him I’m preparing myself, just say that I was discussing matters with somebody!” You call out as you sprint across the halls, not hearing any confirmation as you lock yourself in your room, ransacking your closet to find something not too flashy but not too boring.

It took a good four minutes just to find a suitable dress and another five to make your face and hair look presentable enough as you scampered down the stairs only to find said Viscount waiting in the foyer.

His face turned to yours as he heard your heels clicking on the marble, growing into a bright smile as he dipped his head down to greet you.

“Hello,” he said your name with that smooth voice of his as he took his jacket off and kept it on his arm, “I’m sorry for turning up on such short notice.”

“It’s no problem,” you try to catch your breath for the first time in the last ten minutes as your chest heaves slightly up and down, “No problem at all. To what do I owe the pleasure?”

He takes a second to respond, eyes scanning your features, your clothing, your chest as it tries to catch a solid breath, and you feel yourself look down to make sure there aren't any noticeable wrinkles in the fabric.

“I, I just wanted to drop in. See how you were doing.”

You tried not to look even more startled, but your brows creased once again as you gnawed on the inside of your cheek.

“I’m quite alright…thank you…?” You couldn’t look that out of the ordinary, right?

“Good, that’s good,” he watched as you finished your descent down the stairs, slowly coming towards him as you waited for him to finish, “I’m sorry if I interrupted your conversation with…?” Ella did give him a name you wanted to guess.

“Lord Cornwallis.” You finished for him, not knowing why that was the first name that came to your mind. It was true that he had been here yesterday, but you didn’t talk much to him in his brief visit.

“Lord Cornwallis?” Satoru repeated back in shock, his brows shooting upwards as he did nothing to hide his outburst. His face quickly turned into one of disgust, which accurately represented the emotions you felt yesterday when you eavesdropped on the conversation he had with your mother behind closed doors.

“Yes, you just missed him. He went out through the back door,” why were you making this web of lies even bigger? You have no self-control, do you?

“What was Cornwallis doing here?”

You but your tongue, having to come up with a lie or tell the truth as to why he had visited yesterday. Either way, both options turned out with horrible results.

“He asked for my hand.” The truth it was, then.

His brows seemed to disappear into his hairline as his jaw slacked, mouth wide open. Damn your mind, you should have just lied.

Lily was wrong in one thing, perhaps. You have gotten a few marriage offers in the last three years, but by all men who were older than your grandfather. You hadn’t even told Lily about them and now you were telling her brother.

“I…” Satoru couldn’t even find the right words to say. You wanted to bury yourself in a hole.

“…Cornwallis? Isn’t he-”

“Pushing ninety-nine? Yes.” Nobody was sure of his age, and ninety-nine was perhaps even being too generous. Everybody knew that Cornwallis was simply ancient.

“Did I save you from the conversation at least? I must say, if there was any man I would wish ill upon, it’s certainly him. He’s a lying old cheat.” He tried to joke again but you swallowed thickly. Perhaps if he came at the same time yesterday he might have. But he didn’t and you had to sit through an hour of him pleading with your mother as the two of you just stared in abject horror and surprise.

“Yes well, thank you…for doing that.” You lied, cleaning your teeth together as you tried to smile, not wanting to hurt his feelings as you came up closer to him, desperately hoping to change the topic of the conversation.

“Is everything alright with Lily?” You asked his eyes that were focused on the floor jumping to yours as your lips parted, worry still clear on your face.

“Yes, of course, I just wanted to ask a favor of you. But, judging from your encounter with men today I would understand if this is pushing it,” he cut right to the crux of the matter. He seemed nervous, which was an odd emotion to see on a man otherwise very confident and sure in himself. It unsettled you.

You tilted your head, waiting for him to find his words and continue. You could make out the slight blush on his face, the pink hue that spread across his cheeks, and the tip of his nose. He was, by all means, the cutest person you’ve ever seen.

“My mother's holding another ball, two weeks from now, you see,” his lip caught between his teeth, “And she’s been bugging me about having a date for the night. She wants to appease the rest of the gentry, I suppose. Would you, by any chance, like to be that?”

You stopped computing his words.

“...It’s honestly just to get her off my back. And you wouldn’t have to stay with me the entire evening, you could do whatever you’d like after we get some of the necessities over with. Lily was the first who suggested the idea, she said you wouldn’t be doing much other than gossip with her. Of course, if you don’t want to I certainly won’t force the idea, but it’s merely a suggestion.” His blue eyes, ever so convincing and round and caring bore into yours, and despite your better judgment you find yourself nodding.

“I wouldn’t mind it,” you say a bit breathlessly, completely forgetting about Cornwallis and the way you were debating it and the fact that this means nothing at all, and would most likely cause you more harm than good.

His nervousness washed away into a big smile, and you cursed yourself at the little flicker of hope you felt deep in your soul as he scrambled to find the right words to say to thank you. The flood of gratitude and appreciation stabbed deeply into your heart as he kept repeating friend, but you were too hopeful for love.

Your mother always said that loving would always be your greatest weakness.

---

You should have said no.

The amount of eyes that were focused on you was enough to make you nauseous, and you couldn’t get sick for you hadn’t had anything to eat today with how hurried everything was.

Your arm was draped around Satoru’s, and he held tightly onto your hand. He was the image of luxury and charisma right now, and if you were in the crowd looking as he made his way through the crowd you almost would have wanted to bow.

Time came by a lot faster when you were totally freaking out over it, and before you knew it, you were put in a dress you hadn’t even picked and corseted to the heavens. Your hair was done with extra detail, and they even went as far as putting some Swarovski’s into it so that when the candlelight hit it, you’d sparkle twice as much.

Satoru, ever the gentleman, had picked you up from your estate as he walked you to their home amidst all the chaos of getting ready for another ball. In all honesty, you have no idea how their mother manages to keep her sanity through all of this.

You were still a bit giddy from your earlier interaction with Satoru, although it didn’t do much to calm your nerves now.

“I’m sorry for taking so long!” You had said as you rushed down your stairs, careful not to trip over your train as you put your earrings in. Ella said that he was waiting for you downstairs, you just underestimated how early he’d be.

“Don’t apologize…” He had turned around from admiring a painting, his eyes widening a bit when he saw you. He quickly shut his mouth, but you had already gauged his reaction. You tried not to let it get the best of you, but you could have sworn he blushed more often than usual when you interlinked your arm with his.

“You’re cutting off my blood circulation.” He whispers in your ear as you try to smile, your eyes nervous as they dart around the room. How could it be even bigger than that last ball? Did they suddenly meet thirty new people?

“Maybe you could cut mine off.” You snap back through your teeth, your hand gripping his wrist as tightly as you could.

“How are we supposed to dance if one of us is dead?” He grumbles back, putting on a little grin as he makes eye contact with his mother, and then goes back to whispering, “It’s just one song and you’re done. You’ve done this before.”

You wanted to shove him to the ground.

“No, I haven’t!” You say loud enough that he hears but try to mask it so that nobody else does, “I told you yesterday this is my first time dancing with somebody!” As embarrassing as it was to admit, right now you couldn’t be bothered to care as he led you to the middle of the room, standing in first position as you two waited for the orchestra to begin.

“Are you saying I’m your first?” He teased, his tongue poking out from between his lips as he watched you grow mortified, rubbing the back of your hand in a comforting way as his means to apologize.

You wanted to go ahead and argue but the cello and violins started and you were whisked away by his calculated movements, and the only thing you could do was follow in his lead.

The two of you practiced a bit in the days leading up to this, but it was a lot different when your only crowd was Lily and her constant whining about how boring it was.

Now, with everybody staring at you and him, it was far more daunting.

“Don’t look at the ground, look at me,” he whispered in your ear, smiling when your eyes traveled to him. He tried not to crack when he saw the pure loathing and hatred in them, but at least you were looking up and not at his shoes.

“‘Toru I’m never doing a favor for you again, you owe me.” You groan, letting him twirl you around in a circle as some of the ladies give a polite clap.

“Name your price.” He egged you on, bringing you back flush against his chest as his hand found purchase on your waist.

“Not money,” you grumble, eyes twitching as your heart beats rapidly in your chest, you’ve always wanted to dance with him, sure, but not under these circumstances.

“Books?” You consider it but shake your head. You deserve something bigger for what you’re putting yourself through. Shocking enough, after being a wallflower for so many years, you weren’t handling being in the spotlight too well.

“I’ll think about it. But it has to be big.” You warn and he lifts up his pinky on your waist to show you his unbridled loyalty to keeping true to your words.

“Where are you going after this is done?” He spins the two of you around, and you watch as more couples rush around the two of you. It’s less stressful when others are dancing, but you still feel tense.

“I’m probably going to stay with Lily outside.” He seems to deflate a little, though he still stands tall, his suit never crinkling through his movements.

“No more dancing?” He teased but you vehemently disagree with the idea.

“Never again.” It’s not as though you hate it, in fact, a younger you would have been jumping with glee to be able to dance with Satoru. But after years of growing accustomed to watching rather than participating, you can’t grow out of that habit.

You felt a tap on your shoulder and turned around to see the Princess herself as she looked at you with pleading eyes.

“Would you mind if…?” She motioned to Satoru and then to you. You barely noticed the number coming to an end, and the rupture of applause was the last thing you heard before you scrambled away from him.

You didn’t even notice how he had held onto your hand tighter, not wanting to let you go.

“O-of course, your majesty.” You winced at your select choice of words and how you said her title almost as if you questioned it.

“Thank you.” She mumbled and for somebody of such high regard, you wouldn’t think of her to need to plead with somebody, especially you, to be able to have a dance with Satoru.

Your job for the night was done, successfully might be too loose of a term, but finished nonetheless. You chose not to look back at Satoru, knowing that the wide grin he’d save for the girls he was interested in would only twist that knife deeper into your heart.

You were a sadist in the most pathetic way possible.

You waved goodbye to Satoru as another number started again, and tried your best to get away from all the twirling bodies as you headed out to find Lily.

It didn’t take long until you found her trying to weasel out some information from her brother, tapping him repeatedly on the shoulder as he tried to fight her off.

“…what did you hear, what do you know?” She pressed as he groaned, obviously trying to have a private conversation with the lady next to him.

“Nothing Lily!” He locked eyes with you as he almost begged silently for you to take her.

“Lily, I’m here. We can go now.” You looped elbows with her as you dragged her away, giving her brother a quick smile that said you accepted his gratefulness.

As you walked through the stone path in the garden, she muttered dejectedly about how she was just about to get some good information out of him.

“How was dancing with Satoru?” She finally asked after a while. The two of you weren’t alone, but far less crowded than it would if you had been inside.

“Stressful, but the song was short so I wasn’t needed for too long.” You tell her honestly. If there’s one thing you can’t do with Lily it’s lie, for she’ll sniff out of you the moment you come up with it.

“You look flustered.” She noted, looking over your face and the sweat that dotted over your cheekbones.

“You dance in a sweltering room like that with the entire ton looking at you and try not to get flustered.” You reasoned and she seemed to buy it. It wasn’t a total lie, but a stretch of the truth.

“You know,” Lily had terrible balance and often collided with you as she walked, “I was talking to my mother and despite her insistent warnings, I think we should make it official.”

“Make what official?” The lights from the candles above you illuminated her face and she had that look of mischief that either excited or frightened you.

“That we plan to be unwed.” She grinned cheek to cheek and all you could feel was that same wave of nausea that had been prickling at you since the start of the night. This was the last thing you needed to hear about right now.

“They’re going to think we’re either lunatics or lovers.” You say with a sullen and heavy sigh, looking up at the sky in some sort of desperate manner as you wait for some sort of angel to save you from this conversation.

“And what’s the issue with that? Let them think. You have always said you’ve wanted this, so let’s let the world know.”

Something you wish Lily was was to be more aware. As loving, thoughtful and caring as she was, she never seemed to pick up on the little things. For one, you doubted she noticed just how quiet you got whenever she brought up this conversation. You’d give her the benefit of the doubt and say that you rarely talked much when it came to marriage, but that was just so that you could save yourself from the ongoing embarrassment of never having experienced love or some sort of feeling that somebody would feel towards you to genuinely want to be your husband.

Not only that, but far from Lily's point of help, is the fact that ever since Satoru has been back, your childish feelings have come flooding right in with him. No matter how many tea sessions you have with Lily and have him sitting in the background, either reading the morning's paper or jotting things down in his journal, it always spins to him sitting right beside you as you talk about anything under the sun.

And while you know your hopes of marrying him are just too far-fetched, you’ve always been a hopeless romantic. Something Lily just hasn’t ever been able to pick up on when around you. Which is shocking, seeing how the only novels you’ve read for the majority of your life was centered around such a topic.

“Listen, Lily, I’ve been thinking,” you pause for a second in your place, staring at the pebbles arranged in the formation of a star as you swallow your bile, “That maybe…”

You were nervously wringing your hands together, a sign that Lily knew all too well. She could read you like any of her books, and she let out a gasp, covering her mouth with a shaky hand as she pointed an accusatory finger at you.

“No,” she dug the finger into your chest, “You’re thinking of breaking up the pact?” It comes out breathless. Her soft curls of white that had been done up beautifully were slowly falling down as she shook her head in pure shock, not giving you a chance to talk.

“I mean this is just brilliant. Brilliant! What am I supposed to do now, go out into the world alone as a spinster?”

You stuttered, your fingers interlaced with one another as you tried to calm her down from causing a scene. Trying to shush her came to no avail as you wring your hands away from her, acting as if your touch was burning.

If the Gojo’s were anything, it’s overly dramatic in places where dramatics were certainly not needed.

“Please be rational,” she urged you as she clutched onto your wrists, suddenly pleading to you with her wide eyes, “The season is almost over and you haven’t had any offers. Sooner than later we’re going to be thirty, then forty, then fifty, and husbandless. We should say it now so that it doesn’t come off as a pathetic cry to hold onto what little decency we have in the future!”

Christ, you hated that she was being somewhat logical. But her rationality stung, the way melted wax does when it burns the skin. She didn’t know just how much she was hurting you, and you doubted she ever would.

“Look, I know I’m probably not going to be offered a chance at marriage, but it wouldn’t hurt to at least try.” You try to reason with her as she sniffs, her eyes squinted as she looks at you in anger.

“This was our pact and you’re going against it! What’s next?”

You were going to argue that this pact was only made on the basis of her having too much champagne to drink and you being sullen over her brother, but you were cut off from getting the chance to do so.

“What’s your issue?”

You turned around at the familiar voice as you saw Satoru nearing you, Lily continuing her rant as she seemed to completely miss that her brother was coming towards the two of you.

“What?” You felt overwhelmed with having two Gojo’s corner you, both rather angry from the looks of it.

“I know that this isn’t your scene but you said you’d be my date. You don’t have to dance with me, but at least be there.” He looks like he’s seething, and you’ve never seen this look on him before. It’s jarring, to say the least.

You feel like your head is about to explode.

“I just-”

“....and my mother was only more confident in the idea if you were doing it!” Lily exclaimed, causing you to look back at her as she urged you to think about it.

“...my mother has given me at least twenty women to mull over in the last twenty minutes. It would have been none if you just acted as my date for the night!” Satoru’s voice rose, and you felt like your heart was going to actually stop. Your head was spinning, your vision was blurry, and you couldn’t hear anything besides a loud ringing in your ears.

“I’m sorry but-” The two of them talked over you, so stuck in their own worlds that they didn’t notice the tears pricking at your eyes or the way you seemed to be short of breath. It would probably be one of their greatest flaws, never noticing something until it was far too late.

“Stop!” You cried out, earning some looks from the people around you as you rubbed at your forehead, already feeling it ache under your touch, “Please! Listen, just for a bloody second!”

You took a deep breath and began.

“I’m a fucking romantic Lily, and nothing’s ever going to change that! I always have been! And I want to get married, I just agreed to your pact because I know I’m probably never going to get that chance! And god, how can your only takeaway from reading Persuasion be to abstain from marriage?” Your nose crinkles in anger as you turn around to point your finger at her brother's chest, watching as he takes your reaction in obvious surprise.

“You!” You cry out and he almost backs away, “I was trying to give you some courtesy by leaving! God forbid you gave anybody the idea that you were courting me!” You quickly wipe at your eyes but it does fuck all of hiding how you truly felt as your lips wobbled.

“Why would…?” He's breathless, no longer angry, just utterly confused and a wee bit frightened.

“We both know you’re too good for that. How’d you phrase it, you’d be out of your mind if you did such a thing?” You throw his own words back at him, and you watch in some sort of mixture of triumph and heartbreak as realization washes over his features.

He finally remembers.

“I…” he swallowed thickly, running a hand through his hair as it fell out of his face, rubbing at his jaw as you looked at you from beneath his lashes, “I didn’t…” but he can’t finish his sentences and instead stops, sharing an unreadable look with his sister as they then look at you.

“I’m going home.” You say after a beat of silence, breathing deeply through your nose as you look away from the two of them.

“Let me-” Satoru started but you raised a hand to stop him.

“I think I’d be better off alone.” You snap, nostrils flaring as you shake your head, pinching the bridge of your nose as you try to stop the already impending migraine that is about to come.

For once in your life, you didn’t care about the eyes boring into your back or the way that whispers flew around you and twisted around your throat like a vine. You were glad that nobody else other than the servants was home as you ran up into your room, locking everybody else out as you sobbed into your pillows.

---

The days following your (well-deserved) outburst were more than rough.

To your knowledge, Lily has visited a total of ten times in the past five days, sometimes twice in the same one, while her brother has visited a grand total of zero. You didn’t expect much from him, but this really cemented your quickly growing disdain.

Your mother informed you constantly that she was trying to put out the fires from that night but you couldn’t bring it to feel too bad, after all, you were glad that you didn’t say anything more drastic.

“This is just so unlike you!” She cried, shaking in disappointment as you munched on some sweets you nicked from the kitchen.

“I know,” you chuckled, “I’m so proud of myself.”

She just throws her hands in the air as a sign of utterly giving up and storms out of the room, most likely to meet with somebody else to “clean up the mess.”

She was right for some part, you can’t remember the last time you actually told somebody how you were feeling. It’s not healthy on your end, but growing up with three older sisters who always got it their way meant that you had some lack of backbone.

Lily and Satoru, as much as you cared about them, didn’t live like that. Their mother loved them all equally and she made sure that all of their voices were heard. She was always making sure that their priorities were met and she never made them feel inferior.

Which somehow, didn’t pass on to you.

Loving the way you do got tiring when you got nothing back, and giving everybody your all when nobody seemed to notice it felt as though you were alone in a world full of people who cared for each other. You’ve read the books and heard the stories, but you eventually realized that it simply just wasn’t in your cards to be dealt the same thing.

They cared, you know they did. But sometimes, it felt like they expected your care in order for them to show it to you.

“Miss?” you heard a faint voice and a knock at your door. You sat up from your slump as Ella slowly came inside, shutting the door soundly behind her.

“Did my mother ask you to make sure I haven’t flung myself off the balcony?” You dust away any crumbs from your pull over as you stare out the window.

“I’m making sure you didn’t.”

Your head snapped over at the familiar voice only to see Lily standing at the foot of your bed, looking out of place with her bright purple dress. She looked like she was teetering back and forth between staying out and sprinting away, and you admired her courage after how many times you’ve turned down her offer.

You glared at Ella but she was no longer there, leaving you and Lily alone.

“You’re just in time then.” You say blandly, standing up from your bed as you make the covers and are careful not to come too close to her. She seemed to notice.

“We can’t go about this forever,” she stated, rounding the corner of your bed as she took three steps forward while you took one back, not wanting to be cornered again the way you were that night, “This silent treatment is killing me.”

“Then die,” you don’t mean it and she knows it, but her face wobbles for a second and you watch in horror as tears spring to Lily's eyes.

The last time Lily cried the two of you were fifteen and her brothers had effectively ruined the singular dress she had actually been looking forward to wearing by staining it with ink. You spent at least an hour calling her down and trying to rationalize with her until you finally gave up and offered to cut holes in all of their suits.

You’re not sure you could do that now.

“I’m sorry!” She sprung herself forward at you with full throttle as she hugged you tightly, “You’re right! There’s nothing wrong with being a romantic!” You don’t know what to do as you stand there in shock so you awkwardly pat her back, her long white hair never loose so you’ve never really seen it to its full extent.

“My brother and I have been at war with each other trying to put the blame on somebody else but I’m sorry! You of all people deserve to find love,” she looks up and her eyes just look like oceans and it’s unfair how pretty she looks when she cries because you just look like a mess, “Please, please forgive me.”

You look as she refuses to pull away from you, clutching desperately onto the thin fabric of your nightgown that your mother reprimanded you for not getting out of, and slowly feel your hands circle around her back as you pull her into a hug.

“Honestly,” you shake your head as she looks up at you, cheeks rosy with streaks of tears and her lip wobbles violently, “I’m probably going to be on that pact ten years from now. But I just-”

“Want to try!” She finished your sentence for you, something the two of you always prided in being able to do, “and that’s respectable too!”

You try not to smile but the corners of your lips tug upwards as you nod, Lily waiting with bated breath as she scanned your reaction.

“Don’t ever treat me like that again, you hear me?”

She vehemently nods, pulling away as she wipes at her eyes, holding out her oinks finger as she waits for you to latch on. Sure, it was a childish way of making a promise, but Lily was never the serious sort of person. If anything, this is the most you’ve ever seen her apologize about something.

“I promise with the depths of my soul. If I do, brand me with an iron.” Your eyes widen as you go to disagree but she won’t take it.

“I swear.” She repeats gravely.

You look at her pinky for another second before you bring yours up, not believing that this is still how the two of you go about making amends.

“Alright then,” you heave a sigh, “I forgive you.”

Her face breaks into a wide and toothy smile as she pulls you in for a tighter hug, nearly knocking the air out of your lungs as she pulls back away.

“You’ll never regret this, I swear,” she looked radiant, but quickly stopped as she looked down at the ground, trying to gather her thoughts on how to break the news to you, “Now, be prepared for another one.”

You blink slowly, brows furrowed in confusion as you lean on your bedpost, arms crossing as your lips purse.

“What?”

She almost looks ashamed again, looking at the clock on your wall.

“My mother’s invited you over for dinner. Get ready to see the other Gojo.”

---

Your mother, as difficult as she was to deal with at most times, somehow understood the concept of showing off through a good wardrobe.

You wouldn’t put any bets on the fact that if your outfits were significantly better you might have had at least one man approach you in all these years, but it certainly could have been a possibility.

The cut was lower than all your normal dress, and with the help of your corset, pushed the sisters up a considerable amount.

The color was the most flattering you’ve ever seen, and through the utilization of crystals and diamonds encrusted in the fabric itself, it shined perfectly when the light hit it.

For the first time, you were glad your mother picked out your outfit.

Unfortunately, the outfit gave you only so much confidence. When you walked into the Gojo estate, thankfully with Lily on your side, all the memories from that night came flooding back and your stomach flipped upside down.

You were glad that Lily was seated next to you at the dinner table as well, but it didn’t help that Satoru was seated in front of you, glaring daggers into your face as you tried to avoid looking at him.

“Now, you didn’t tell me about your plans for the next year, with the season already coming to an end.” Their mother, bless her heart, asked as she loaded some peas into her fork, looking at you with her kind eyes as you struggled to think of a good enough answer.

“I’m planning on taking a marriage offer up, actually,” you say, trying not to look at Lily for you knew she was already giggling.

In the past five hours, you filled her in on everything, and she decided the best way to get Satoru to say something was if you went with the idea.

“Oh?” You watched as she perked up in interest, as did the rest of the Gojo family. An offer?

“Yes,” you nodded, “Lord Cornwallis, actually, if you’ve heard of him?”

Lily was gleaming as she saw her brother clench his jaw as he stared at the side of your face that was still looking at their mother.

“L-lord Cornwallis?” You felt bad for lying to her, but you could just come back later and say you’ve changed your mind, “He must be at least-”

“Ninety-nine?” You answered for her as her cheek warmed, “Some say he’s just in his prime, yes.”

She drank some of her wine.

“Isn’t that desperate?” Satoru finally said and you heard a loud clatter from the end of the table as their mother angrily sat her cup down, glaring at her son.

“Satoru!” She exclaimed, the rest of the girls and boys watching in tense silence as they waited for your reply.

“It’s alright,” you shrugged, fiddling with the bracelet on your wrist, “And yes, it could come off as desperate. However, I would rather go to a man who finds no problem in courting me rather than somebody who’d tell the whole world just how much it would disgust him to be seen with me.”

You could swear you heard a tooth crack.

“I’m sorry, am I missing something-” One of the brothers piped up but Satoru acted as if he hadn’t heard him.

“Well if that man were drunk out of his wits-”

“Then he let his sober thoughts reign free.” You finish for him, nostrils flaring as Satoru twisted the ring on his forefinger back and forth.

“Again, Miss Gojo, I’m simply thinking over his offer.” You finish, seeing how she could barely take her eyes off of her son as she blinked towards you, giving a shaky smile as she nodded.

“Of course, there’s no…no problem in that.” She swallowed uncomfortably, as did everybody else. You peeked over at Lily to find her just as you suspected, beaming with silent joy.

“If you wouldn’t mind, I think my dress has come a bit undone. I’m going to call for somebody to fix it.” You say, excusing yourself as you try to go ahead with the plan you had set in the first place.

“Make him mad, really mad. Say something about Cornwallis, he despises him,” Lily muttered, sitting cross-legged on your bed as she urged you to listen to her directions, “Then excuse yourself. Say you’ve got to use the privy or something, doesn’t matter.”

You nodded, listening intently as she laid it on thick for what she had been picking up on for the past couple of days.

“Go upstairs and find his room, you know where it is. Be quick with it too, but there’s this box on his desk that’s full of letters. I swear on my Austen collection that there is a letter with your name on it.”

You felt your heart tumble.

“Are you sure?” You asked, glancing at the clock to make sure you wouldn’t be late to dinner.

“Positive. And I’d get it if I could, but he’s so secretive with his room that this is probably the one time it’s going to be unlocked. He’d never suspect anybody going snooping at this hour.”

You grinned, knowing that if you finally got that little something to use against him, he’d have no choice but to grovel at your feet for the rest of his life.

You quickly scampered up the stairs, telling one of their mates that you’d be able to fix your dress on your own and that you’d be stashed away in Lily's room for the time being, and mentally times yourself as you quickly paced through the halls, looking for the familiar dark oak that would be Satoru’s room.

Just when you were about to get lost in their maze of a house, you stopped triumphantly behind the last door at the end of the hall, staring deeply at it as you weighed your options.

You quickly caved, slowly reaching out to the doorknob to see if it was locked.

It swung open, and you let out a sigh of relief and looked around a final time to make sure that nobody had followed you before you fully let yourself inside.

It was dark, and you left the door slightly open so that the light from the halls could sleep in a bit, and you went to work on locating the box on his desk that Lily had described to you.

You squint your eyes, wincing as you bumped into furniture as you made your way to the corner of the large room, blindly reaching and grabbing for anything on the mahogany desk that would resemble a box.

You let out a sound of triumph as you found a square-shaped glass-feeling thing filled to the brim with papers, holding it upwards to the sliver of light as you quickly ran through the letters with your fingers and you tried to find one with your name on it.

They seemed like they were all unsent, with many of them labeled to his mother or siblings, and a few to his friends, but you didn’t find any of them labeled to you, and you quickly felt your heart and hopes sink. This was taking far too long.

Just as you were about to give up, you passed a smaller shaped letter with cursive that looked familiar, in the sense that you had seen it addressed before, and pulled it out only to see your name staring back at you.

A part of you almost wanted to sink into the chair behind the desk, your heart beating rapidly in the small vastness of your ribcage as you held it back up to the light, seeing a note tucked neatly away through the transparency of the envelope.

Your nimble fingers went to rip the seal of wax off, but stopped as the door swung open.

“What the hell are you doing?” Satoru stood at the doorway, blocking the rest of the light as his shadow cast over you.

You dropped the letter, quickly hiding it behind your back as he stepped in, getting closer to you as you abruptly stood up, trying to come up with a feasible lie as you rounded away from his desk, trying to get away from him and his massive build.

“Oh?” You looked around as if suddenly realizing this wasn’t the place you were supposed to be, “Is this not Lily’s room? Silly me, I couldn’t make it out in the dark. I’ll be leaving now if you’ll excuse me…” You turned around, brushing past him but stopping when you felt his long fingers circle your wrist, turning you around as his eyes squinted.

“Bullshit,” you flinched, never having heard him curse before as his hands felt around yours, finding the letter you were doing a terrible job of hiding, “You know this house better than your own. Why the hell are you in my room?”

You didn’t say anything as he brought your hand out from behind your back, opening up your closed fist with much ease to reveal the crumpled-up envelope. Your chest heaved up and down, waiting with bated breath as he stared silently at the letter. You balled your fists back up again, stepping away from him as he followed you quickly in your footsteps.

“Give that to me y/n,” his voice was low and commanding, unlike anything you’ve ever heard before, and if you weren't in your rebellious mood (and somewhat in your independent, not totally in-love-with-him mood) you would have caved, but you shook your head, looking behind you as to make sure you didn’t back into his bed frame.

“It’s got my name on it.” You argued, knowing it was a terrible excuse, and you watched him chuckle darkly, knowing that you had no good reason for being in his room and sifting through his letters.

“And yet it was in my room, in my letterbox, on my desk.” He snapped, eyes a deep blue and different from the usual lightness they carried. He wasn’t joking and he wasn’t lying, he needed that letter back.

Which just made you want it even more.

You didn’t know what to do, so the only logical thing in your sporadic mind was to shove it down your dress, hiding it in your chest as Satoru watched your movements like a hawk, not saying anything as you defiantly showed him your now empty hands.

“Get it now Satoru,” you challenged him, not realizing you had backed up into the wall until your head lightly bounced off from it, wincing at the sting as you looked back behind you.

He didn’t say anything, and it seemed like his mind was running as quickly as it could as he tried to deal with whatever it was you were doing. Instead, he just three more languid steps forward, nearly face to face with you as he stared down at you, eyes darting from yours to your lips and chest.

Under any other circumstances, you would have felt like shedding your clothes off from how heated you felt under his gaze. Here, your only resort was to keep them on, to see what was so important about that letter.

“I came to find you to apologize,” his voice is low and calm, his cool breath hitting your cheek as you struggle to keep your composure, “To be civil. To tell you that I didn’t mean anything I said that night.”

Despite your mixed emotions, you felt your brows furrow at his select choice of words.

“Are you here to tell me now that you actually meant every word?” You couldn’t stop the words as they tumbled out of your mouth, knowing that the answer would probably send you into a state you could never get out of as the person you’ve loved for the majority of your life confirms your biggest fears.

But shockingly, he just shakes his head, his lips pink and plush and you’ve never found yourself focusing on them more than you are now.

If only you knew that he felt the same as he looked at you.

“No,” he stepped closer, if possible, but still had room to shove him away. But you didn’t, not now, you couldn’t, didn’t want to as his nose nudged yours a bit, your lashes fluttering against your cheek as your lips parted, waiting for him to do something,

“I’ll show you that I didn’t mean them.”

You couldn’t breathe, your lungs contracting as his face fell towards yours, your lips meeting ever so slowly as they finally landed on yours, soft and somehow delicate as they pushed against yours, finalizing the kiss as he began to move them.

You’ve never kissed anybody before, often dreaming about it as you lay in bed hopelessly in love, but never thought you’d be here from the man you’ve imagined on the other side doing it with him.

He moved slowly as if he knew that this was your first time, and you didn’t know how to handle your emotions as he angled his chin to get closer to you, his lips capturing you in such a heated and feverish pace that you knew you weren’t going to be able to sleep tonight as you thought back on it.

His hands slowly came up to your waist, tugging you flush against his body as your hands somehow found their way behind his neck, finger curling into his long strands of arctic white as he groaned against you when you tugged a bit, the sound coming from deep within his chest.

You were impatient, always have been, and it probably took him a little bit by surprise as you quickened the pace, hungry after so many years of starving for this as you pushed against him for more fervor, feeling him smile slightly against your lips as he met you in the middle, fingers digging into the fabric of your dress as you whined slightly as the feeling.

He nipped at your lips, his tongue poking out from in between yours, and you absentmindedly opened your mouth a little bit to make room for him, heart and mind working in tandem as he brought up a hand to cradle the back of your head, making sure it didn’t hit the wall as he pushed against you.

It was messy and hurried, and for once, it felt as if he felt the same you were feeling. As if he too wanted this, needed this more than air itself, and that thought alone made your mind stop functioning.

Your hands moved from his neck to his chest, fingers clutching onto the satin fabric of his suit, wrinkling the fabric as your noses bumped against each other, sheer desperation showing from the two of you.

“Viscount Gojo?”

The two of you almost jumped at the knock that sounded from the door.

“Your mother is asking where you are. She’s worried about the lady as well,” Fred didn’t peek his head in, and for that you were grateful. You were sure you looked like a total mess at the moment, but Satoru spoke, glancing at the door as he took a deep breath, almost as if it was his first time breathing in a couple of minutes.

“Tell her that we’re working things out. It’ll take a bit more time.” His voice sounded steady enough, but from where you were standing you could see how swollen his lips were, the fact that they were red and glistening with sweat. His hand on your waist tightened as if he didn’t want to let you go, and your hand lay flat against his chest.

“Of course,” Fred answered, “Take your time.” He shut the door completely, and the two of you waited until you heard his footsteps becoming softer and softer until you could no longer hear them.

You waited, looking in the direction for another second before you looked up at him only to see his eyes gauging yours for a reaction, somehow a storm going on behind them as he battled twenty different emotions.

“I’m still hurt Satoru,” you whisper, his eyes never changing but his shoulders tense a bit as you drop your hands away from him, as if you were suddenly coming to your senses and realizing what you had just done, “I can't forgive you this easily.”

You don’t know how to handle your feelings sometimes, and sometimes they catch up to you later than they should. You could still hear his words from that night ringing around your mind and nothing was stopping it no matter how hard you tried.

“Come get the letter when you’re ready to apologize with more than just your lips.”

You look back up at him one more time before you push away, feeling him lightly move away from you to give you space as you smooth out the front of your dress, touching your face to make sure that none of the makeup and powder that was swiped against your face wasn’t wrecked as you left.

You don’t look back as you left him silently in his room, shutting the door behind you as you stopped, taking a deep breath to calm your nerves as you went back down to dinner.

---

A week passed since your night with Satoru, and you’ve come to terms with the fact that he regrets it.

It hurts, it hurts even more when you convince yourself that he probably was trying to take pity on you and test how true his old words were, but you couldn’t spiral, knowing that it would cause even more turmoil.

Lily came by regardless, under the impression that you and her brother made up and are on better terms, and you're in no rush to tell her the truth of what happened.

She asked about the note, but you insisted that you couldn’t find it. She grumbled that he probably threw it away after she pestered him constantly about it.

“What about Lord Balfour?” She was sprawled out on your bed, her legs crossed resting it up against the wall with her head at the opposite end, looking on a piece of parchment in which she had gone around asking for men looking for marriage (and a true romantic connection, she stressed).

“Hm, too bald,” you said, sitting in your vanity, washing off the rest of the powder on your face as you dipped the soft cotton cloth back into the pitcher of water as you looked at her through the mirror, “Isn’t he a year younger than us?”

She pouted as she thought, looking back to her list as she crossed off that name.

“Count Alexei?” She seemed to like this one and you set your towel down, trying to place a face to the name.

“Isn’t he from Russia? Wouldn’t it be difficult for him to come back and forth?” You asked and she nodded, although she seemed more sad that you didn’t want him.

“Have you just gone around the ton asking if anybody’s looking for marriage?” You teased and she turned around, sitting up as she wiped the hair out of her face.

“I take your journey to find true love very serious,” she argued and you snorted, knowing that it was a kid if that and the fact that she liked judging the men of the higher class, “Are you complaining?”

“No, of course not.” You turn around from your chair as you face her, urging her to continue.

“Duke Cambell?” She looked up from the list with a raised brow, only to find you looking the same, taking more time to consider the name.

“He explicitly stated he’d consider marriage? With me?” You tilt your head to the side. Surely it would be too good to be true. He wasn’t too pretty, nobody was like Satoru, but he wasn’t that bad to look at either.

“He seemed quite eager about it, actually.” She said, and you smiled a bit, feeling like a silly schoolgirl with the way you ducked your head.

“He’s a bit shy, isn’t he?” You said with a little giggle and she snorted, nodding as she circled his name and put a question mark next to it.

“Just means he’s more apt to moan louder,” she said blandly and your mouth dropped, burrowing your face in your hands at her very open nature. Even after ten years it sometimes caught you off guard.

“Lily!” You shouted, trying to hold in your laugh, and she just looked at you as if you should have expected this as she rose from your bed, stretching her arms above her head as she let out a frantic yawn.

The sun had already set and she knew her mother would be expecting her to arrive soon, and you went to stand but stopped you.

“No need to stand, I’ll bid farewell from here.”

You rolled your eyes at her dramatics, picking up the cloth again as you dabbed at your cheeks.

“I assume you’ll be here tomorrow?” Crossing your legs as she shrugged as if it was the most obvious answer in the world.

“Yes. In fact, I’ll leave this prized list with you so that you can mull it over,” she walked over a bit and set it down on the top of your vanity, looking at you as she put a solemn hand on your shoulder, “Do think over Count Alexis. He is rather dreamy.”

You chuckled, waving goodbye to her as she left the door with a litter thud, blowing kisses as you snorted at her exaggerated act, turning back around to your mirror as you wiped away the remaining bits of your makeup.

You were already in your dressing gown, the material soft and light on your skin as you set the cloth back down, drying your face off with another one as you got ready to sleep.

With meticulous care you took your earrings off and began to work on your necklace but struggled with the finicky clasp, your thumb slipping just as you were about to get it. You let out a quick groan of frustration, shutting your eyes as you tried not to lose your temper over a necklace.

“Do you need help with that?”

You were getting better at controlling your reactions, but your eyes snapped over to the top of your mirror as he stood there, shutting the door behind him. Your hands fell to your lap as you silently seethed.

Ella was never going to hear the end of it.

You said nothing and he quietly walked over to where you sat with your back to him, opting to look at him through your mirror as his slender fingers slowly came up to your neck.

“I’m getting rid of my maid.” You mutter eyes dropped to your lap as you try to control your breath as his fingertips touch your delicate skin, gingerly getting to work of undoing the clasp. He didn’t say anything and the only sound that filled the room was your slow little puffs of air, trying to get your pulse to stop from doing the strange rhythmic beating it always did when you were around him, as if he somehow became the conductor of your heart.

You heard a small click and the necklace became undone, and he gathered it in his palm as he set it down next to your little trinkets, dropping his hands from your shoulder as his cerulean eyes found yours once again, and you looked away, his deep stare burning through yours.

“Don’t,” his voice came out rough as if he hadn’t made much use of it for a while, “She’s always turned me away when I came asking for you. I weasled my way through her right now, almost blew my cover when Lily was leaving.”

Oh.

“I’m over it.” No, you weren’t, but you wouldn’t admit that out loud.

You opened up the drawer to the left of you, moving some little cases of jewelry around as you found the letter you had hidden away as you brought it out, setting it on the desk as you stood from your chair, pushing it back in as you faced him, “Take it. I didn’t read it.” Despite how much you wanted to, you just couldn’t bring yourself to stoop that low and read through something he didn’t want you to see.

He glanced over at the letter and then at you, taking the letter with careful movements as he found the letter opener scattered on your desk, ripping through the wax as he opened it up, passing the envelope back to you.

“Read it.”

You certainly weren’t expecting that.

“What?” You couldn’t blink, looking at his outstretched hand that held the very thing that had been bothering you as if it was nothing, “I don’t-”

“Go on,” he urged quietly, his voice caught in the back of his throat, “Read it out loud. Please.”

You looked at him once more to make sure he wasn’t going crazy before you gently took it from his hands, your fingers brushing past each other as you opened it up, taking out the letter as you unfolded it, taking a deep breath as you prepared yourself for the worst.

“I’m terrible at writing letters, you should know,” you start, squinting as you move closer to your candle so that you can read it better, “And you should know that I’ve written this twenty other times. I have-

“Twenty balled-up pieces of paper next to me,” Satoru finished the sentence, not looking at the letter once as he read it from memory, “If only you could see the mess,” he paused, his hands shaking a bit as he continued, “I apologize for not sending as many letters to you as I should, but aside from my travels which have proven to do nothing other than make me regret leaving, I only have one other thing left to tell you.

“I love you. I’m in love with you. I thought that it would do me some good to leave and get some time to think about how bad it would be if I said out loud that I was in love with the girl who’s my sister's best friend, but I’ve simply gone mad over needing to see you again. I’m in Paris, which is coincidentally the city of love but I’ve grown bitter and resentful over the fact that the woman I love is an ocean away from me. I can’t do it anymore. No, scratch that, no, I can’t do this other letter…”

“...It’s too pathetic. You’re worth more than this.” You concluded, reading along because you couldn’t be yourself to look up at him, knowing that you simply would break apart and couldn’t take it as you heard the three words you’ve wanted to hear from the man that you never thought would say them.

You looked at the paper, eyes scanning each word again as you let out a heavy sigh, feeling like you were living in a dream that was wrapping its arms slowly around you and whisking you away.

“That night, I projected. I don’t know why I said what I said, I just know that thinking it over told me everything I needed to know and I acted like a coward and a fool and I hurt you when really, I love you. I love you, I’ve never stopped. I burn for you, and I always will.” He whispered, his eyes wet with unshed tears as he cleared his throat, wiping at his nose as he sniffled.

You’ve never seen him like this, exposed and raw. But you knew that you mirrored his emotions, knew that you were in the same state that he was for he carefully brought his hand up to your cheek, wiping a tear away as he cupped your face in his hands.

“I know that it would be too much to ask for your forgiveness, but please, I don’t know how much longer I can go without at least seeing your face, hearing your voice, your laugh, you’re kind, kind heart.” His hands trailed down your face, down your arms, and your waist, settling on your hips as he ducked his head downward, tears sliding down the curve of his nose as he did something unexpected.

The Viscount Gojo Satoru began to kneel.

You froze, looking down in shock as he bowed his head in shame and apology.

“‘Toru, please, I,” your voice broke and you quickly wiped your tears away, taking his hands that were sprawled out across your waist as you held them, not knowing how to handle this display of vulnerability as you gently made him look up at you, “Just tell me one thing.”

His thumb caressed the back of your hand, giving a soft nod as he whispered; “anything,” and his hand moved up your waist, holding your back as your hands unknowingly went to his hair, moving it away from his face as your fingers twirled and played with his white strands, basking in the sense of having him at his knees for you.

“Why did you wait so long to come back?” Your voice is barely audible as it cracks, a year of missing him and ten years of longing for him coming out as he shakes his head, almost as if he was more remorseful about it than you could ever imagine, and he shifted so that he wasn’t resting on his ankles anymore, digging deep into his pocket as he brought out a little box.

“I went back to Japan. I was trying to find this little ring my father gave my mother back when he started to pine after her,” he opened up the box, a delicately cut blue diamond rind resting on a thin gold band stared back at you, shining in the candlelight, “I wanted to give it to you as a promise…” and he trailed off, a blush spreading across his cheeks as he suddenly became a bit embarrassed, pocketing the box again as he looked back up at you.

“What was the promise?” You can barely hear your words over the thumping of your heart.

He swallows, slowly coming to standing back up, never losing his hold on you, clutching onto your thin nightgown as if it was the only thing grounding him to reality.

“That I’d marry you one day.” He whispered back, his voice hushed as if he didn’t want them to escape the vicinity of your room, this shared space between the two of you in which you stripped each other bare to the soul, only the find that they longed to be in each other's place even when they were miles apart.

Just as he did so many nights ago, he leaned closer to you, giving you time and space to push him away, to yell, to scream, but you didn’t, nudging his nose with yours as your lips found each other, this time quick and rough and not wanting to be patient because there was no room for such a thing.

He let out a small groan as you tugged on the hairs at the back of his nape, pushing you further down until your back hit one of your windows, feeling the cool night air from the glass as it traveled through the thin cotton of your slip

It seemed like something in him was finally let go, and you as well, and everything came tumbling down in the best way possible.

It was so messy and rushed and desperate that you felt like you were going to faint, the air from your lungs being stolen by his hungry and greedy lips as he pushed back roughly against you, needing to taste you, feel you, or else he simply wouldn’t make it.

Satoru tapped the back of your thighs, urging you to wrap your legs around his torso as you pulled away slightly, questioning him as he scoffed at your doubt.

“I spent a year getting bigger and stronger for you,” he murmurs against your lips, “and the first thing you said when you saw me was oh. Come on,” he nipped at your lips, his boyish and charming smile growing when you whimpered, “Test me out.”

You gave in, standing on your toes as you did what he asked, and you let out a little laugh of surprise at how he wasted no time wrapping his arms tightly around your waist as he smirked, going away from the ball as he led you to your bed, basking in the sound of your twinkling laughter as you admired him in all his glory.

“I shouldn’t have doubted you,” you tease and he snorts, fixing your gown as he hovers above you. He was huge, so much bigger than you anticipated in your imagination, but it was so much better than you ever could have thought.

“I’d never lie to you,” he promised, pressing another chaste kiss to your lips that left you breathless as he continued downwards, pressing kisses down your jaw, and your neck, spending time as he sucked at one of your vital points, enjoying the way you sounded like you had run a marathon.

He looks stunning here; his lips look bruised and swollen, pink and wet with spit. He couldn’t keep his eyes off of your body, and if you weren’t crazy about how he looked at you, you would’ve shielded yourself away in embarrassment.

But he didn’t give you any time to think it over, pushing past your loose nightgown as he pressed delicate pecks to your shoulders and upper chest region, looking up at you to make sure it was okay to continue.

You quickly nodded, eager to see what he was going to do.

“Mind if I take this off?” He asks, tugging at the ends of it as you look at him from beneath your lashes, trying to feel indifferent as you shrug, but the way you smile giddily gives away just how badly you want him to.

“I wouldn’t mind.” You help him move it upwards, your arms coming out from the sleeves as the chilly air hits your naked skin, and you suddenly realize just how out in the open you are compared to him.

Out of second nature, you go to cover your chest but he tsks, gently pushing your hands away as he eyes your breasts, looking like he had just come back from staring at the sistine chapel with the way he looks at you.

Your nipples harden from how cold it was, and he slowly dips his head down to one of your tits, kissing the soft and supple skin as he inches closer to your bud, finally latching his mouth onto it as you throw your head back, arching your back into his lips as he sucks like his life depends on it.

“S-shit, ‘Toru, so good,” you mewl, wrapping your hands around his neck as he flattens his tongue against your nipple, his teeth grazing the sensitive area as you whine even louder, not seeming to care if anybody outside your door could hear.

His other hand lathes onto your other one, not wanting to leave her unattended as he pinches your nipple between his two fingers, twisting it just enough to make you shut your eyes at how good the attention feels.

“Let me hear you,” he groans into your skin, looking up at you as you try to cover up your mouth with your hand, “I’ll stop if you cover up that pretty mouth of yours.”

You simply nod, leaving your shaky hand to grip your bed sheets as he switches his mouth and hand with each other, giving you different sensations to wrap your hands around as you feel a deep part of your pulse, needing more of him.

“‘Toru, please,” your voice comes out shaky as he releases your tit with a pop, his hands going down to hold onto your hips as you bring his chin up for another kiss of swapping spit with him, growing to appreciate the lewdness of it all as you lay feather light kisses on his jawline, feeling him shudder beneath you, “Wan’ more.”

At any other time, he would have drawn this out, would have teased and prodded at you to use your words, to tell him where you needed him most, but he couldn’t wait with you, wanting to have a taste of you himself.

So his wolfish grin comes back, his hand traveling down your stomach, stopping just above your mound as he cocks a brow at the way you seem to grow impatient, reaching the place you seemed to have in mind.

“Here?” He asked quietly, his pointer finger moving to find your clit as you let out a quiet gasp, his expert fingers having nothing on your inexperienced ones. Sure you’ve touched yourself deep into the night when you made sure everybody was asleep, but it never felt like this.

You couldn’t speak, so you nodded again, and that seemed to be good enough for Satoru as his finger moved down to your lips, a deep groan coming from within his chest as he felt how wet you were, and prodded his finger at your tight walls, slowly pushing past them as he seemed to be in a trance.

You sucked him in so delightfully, pulsing against his as your slick stained his finger, making it easier for him to fuck you with a little bit more pace, careful not to hurt you, as he brought it back up to circle at your clit, trying to find what places you liked to be teased most.

“O-oh my god,” your eyes rolled back in your head as his long find pushed back against your gummy walls, his other thumb finding your nub as you whined even louder, not used to feeling this good, spreading your legs out even further as you tried to make room for him.

“There you go, s’perfect,” he said against your skin, dipping down as he moved a hand to keep your thighs further apart, “Mind if I have a taste?” And you were in another dimension, just cradling his neck as you pushed him to go further.

He chuckled darkly, nearly going insane as he neared your glistening pussy, eyes growing dark as he moved his fingers away so that his tongue could have its turn, and you swore you almost came right there.

He licked gingerly, savoring you first as he groaned, his thumb never giving up on circling and massaging your clit, but he began to eat you out as his life depended on it, licking and sucking like you were his last meal.

“‘Toru, ‘Toru, fuck!” You screamed, biting your lip harshly as you kept your finger tight around his hair, “Don’t stop, please!”

“F-fuck,” he murmured, coming up for a quick breath as he looked at you from his long white lashes, “Fucking kill me if I ever stop, okay?”

He goes back in with the same amount of fervor, your chest moving up and down as you arch into his mouth, your jaw going slack as you quickly feel that rope in your stomach tightening, embarrassed at coming so early but knowing that there was no way you could stop yourself with the way he fingered you out at the same time he ate you out.

“I’m yours,” he said against your skin, “I’ll always be yours.” It was out of place, but it seemed like he was branding it into your skin so that everybody else knew, knew that he belonged solely to you.

It was too much, and you felt like you were slowly losing your ability to think, talk, or do anything, and the only thing you could feel was him, and you felt it all coming to a crescendo as his mouth latched onto your clit, letting it all go as you came into his mouth.

“‘M c-coming, mmmm fuck!” You couldn’t even believe the sounds you were making as you clenched around his finger, your essence coating his chin and hand as your legs were trembling, glad that he held a stable hand on your waist.

You saw white for a couple of seconds, taking even longer to catch your breath, your tits rising and falling with each heave, and you suddenly felt like you came back down to earth, peeking out from an eye to see Satoru smiling down at you, his face soft and you whined in shock at what just happened, hiding your face into one of your pillows as he laughed lowly, the sound dripping down your ears like warm honey.

“You just came around me, no need to be modest now.” He gently moved your face away from the sanctuary of your pillow so that you could look at him again, and he leaned down, pressing one final kiss to your lips, letting you taste yourself on him as you let out a muffled moan.

“How do you feel?” He asked as he pulled away, sitting on his haunches, letting you drape the blanket around your sweaty chest as you tried to sit up, shaking a bit as you tried to recover from your mind-breaking orgasm.

“Good,” you say groggily, wiping at your eyes as you give him a lazy, languid smile, “Really good.”

“Yeah?” He asks, chuckling as you nod, finding his hands as you play with his long fingers, and he lets you watch as you let them entangle with each other, somehow feeling more connected through this than the previous activity as you slowly pull him back down towards you, wanting nothing more than to curl into his chest.

“Give me a second love,” he wanted the same thing, but he pulled away, “Let me clean you up.”

You didn’t fight it and let him go, watching as he found the pitcher of water on your desk as he found a clean rag and wet it, coming back to your bed until his eyes caught something under the sheets.

He picked it up, reading it as he sat down next to you, running the cold towel across your thighs as you let out a little whimper at the temperature. He pressed an apologetic kiss to your forehead as he turned the paper around in silent questioning.

Your eyes widened, trying to take it away but he held it above your head. If you had more fight in you, you might have wrestled for it, but you gave up, letting him clean you up as he tried not to laugh at how measly it was.

“I doubt Cambell would know how to make you come.” He finally says, throwing the rag away somewhere as you groan, pushing his face slowly away as you try to fight the giddy laugh that was going to bubble its way from your chest.

“Stop! Lily was just trying to help!” You argue and he waves his hands, loosening the buttons of his tunic as he crawls in next to you, pulling you flush against him as he kisses the tip of your nose.

“It’s fine love,” he nestles his nose in your hairline, smiling when you hitch a leg over his, “You’re mine now.”

You look up at him, tracing over his features with the light touch of your fingertips as he leans into your warmth.

“Do you promise?”

He gives a single nod, sliding the delicate ring over your finger, and closes his hand around yours.

“Promise.”

2K notes · View notes

sluttywonwoo · 1 year

Text

collision || h.js

pairing: virgin!fratboy!han jisung x best friend!reader

summary: jisung's fraternity brothers decide to pool their money and surprise him with a stripper for his birthday! nice gesture and all, but that stripper just so happens to be his best friend...

warnings: swearing, a little bit of mention of stigma towards sex workers at the end, smut (18+ ; minors dni)

additional warnings: lap dancing, dry humping

word count: 3k

Jisung’s blood ran cold as he stared at you from the opposite side of the room. A similar look of shock graced your features for a moment but it was quickly replaced by a smile, a fake one if Jisung had ever seen one.

To be fair he had imagined this exact scenario- you in lingerie, standing in the middle of his living room- hundreds of times. But in those fantasies, the room wasn’t also full of a dozen or so of his friends.

When Jisung’s fraternity brothers told him they had a “surprise” for his birthday he knew it couldn’t be anything good but he certainly hadn’t been expecting his best friend to be the hired... entertainment for the party he hadn’t even wanted.

“Should we leave them alone?” Minho, one of the older boys, teases.

“We don’t get to watch?” Jeongin whines.

“Nah, Hannie’s too shy for that.”

“That, and we only bought a private dance because it was the cheapest option,” Chris mutters under his breath, hopefully not loud enough for you to hear.

“Let’s go into the other room, then,” Hyunjin says, finally drawing all of the attention away from you. “The others are waiting for us and we haven’t finished mixing all the drinks yet. The birthday boy can join us later.”

There’s some grumbling as the boys shuffle out of the room but they do make their exit, leaving you alone with Jisung.

You’re the first to break the silence. “Happy birthday?” you offer with an awkward chuckle.

“This is why you couldn’t come tonight?”

“I was going to join later!” you correct him. “But yes, this is why I was going to be late.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I told you I had to work! I didn’t know it was you!”

“They didn’t... give you my name or anything?” Jisung realizes as he’s speaking that he doesn’t really know how your client intake works. Is there a form they fill out? Or do they just Venmo you and give you an address? Surely not, right? That would be dangerous. There had to be more to it than that.

“They called you ‘Late Bloomer’,” you mutter, staring at the floor. “Said I’d know you when I saw you.”

Jisung’s cheeks burned and he scoffs. “Ironic. Yeah, that’s what the guys call me because they know, um, about...”

“You don’t have to say it!” you blurt. “I already know. That’s a really mean nickname.”

“All the pledges get nicknames like that,” he sighs. “Sometimes they don’t wear off after initiation.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

You had taken a couple of steps closer to where he was sitting while you talked but you were still several feet apart.

“Uh, well did you still want me to-”

“No!” Jisung shouts, cringing when he hears himself. “No, oh my god. You don’t have to do that.”

“I mean, it’s what I’m getting paid to do,” you point out. “Do you want your brothers’ money to go to waste?”

“I don’t give a fuck about their money.”

“So you don’t want me to?”

He’s sweating now. He feels it on his brow. “No, no. I don’t want you to be uncomfortable.”

And I don’t want to cum my pants the minute you sit on my lap.

You laugh. “Nothing can be more uncomfortable than what just happened in front of your, uh, friends.”

You had a point. “You don’t think it’ll make things... weird?” Jisung asks.

You shrug. “Things are already weird, aren’t they? But if you don’t want me to, I'll go get dressed and we can join the rest of them at the party.”

“It’s not that I don’t want you to!” Jisung clarifies. “I mean, I’ve always been curious about... how your sessions go, like what happens and stuff, but I don’t want you to feel like you have to or that I want you to if that makes sense. Like I don’t want you to think I’m a creep-”

“Jisung.”

“Huh?”

“Instead of a real dance, why don’t I just demonstrate for you? Show you what I do, like you said?”

That didn’t sound too dangerous.

“O-ok. You don’t have to do it on me, though. You can just, like, use a chair?”

You give him a small smile and nod. “Sure.”

There are lots of chairs to choose from but you pick the closest and drag it in front of where Jisung is sitting. You spin it so that the back is facing him and then run to get something from the bag that you’d dropped by the door when you came in.

Jisung tries not to look at your ass as you bend down and rifle through the tote, training his eyes on the ceiling instead. He’d already been struggling not to get hard this whole time and it was about to get a whole lot harder, metaphorically and literally.

You come back with a speaker and set it up on the floor under the chair.

“Usually I put on some music,” you explain. “I’ll sit on the guy’s lap and ask him what he likes to listen to.” You sit sideways on the chair and cross your legs, pretending like there’s a man underneath you. “Whatever he says doesn’t matter to me, though. I just pick whatever I want to dance to and pretend his answer influenced my decision so he feels like he gets to have a say in the matter. Men like to feel special like that.”

Jisung nods along. You look up to check that he’s following before moving on.

“Then I’ll stand back up, like this, and start dancing. Most girls dance in front of them first, to make them want it more. I used to get really self-conscious about that part because it feels silly to me but it really pays off in the end.”

Jisung gulps and nods again. He watches you sink to your knees and arch backward, spreading your thighs wider as your back touches the floor. He had no idea you were so flexible, no idea you could move like that, though he supposes he should have assumed considering you literally do this for a living.

“And then right before I get back on his lap I’ll take off my top. Usually, it’s like a bra or something but sometimes I’m wearing a bodysuit and I’ll just pull it down.”

He doesn’t expect you to actually do it but you do. You reach behind yourself and pull on the ribbon holding the corset you were wearing together until it unravels and you can take it off.

Jisung immediately averts his eyes, going as far as shielding his vision with a hand.

“Oh my god!”

He hears you laughing. “They’re just boobs.”

Yeah, your boobs.

“I thought you wanted me to show you how I usually do it,” you chide.

Jisung hesitantly turns his head to face you again. He stares you right in the eyes, pointedly ignoring everything below your neck. “I didn’t think you would actually, um, strip.”

Your teasing smile falters. “Do you want me to put it back on? I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”

“No! You don’t have to. I’m not uncomfortable.” You look like you don’t believe him so he adds, “I just wanted to be respectful and stuff, you know?”

You roll your eyes. “You’re sweet. I’m honestly surprised you haven’t seen me topless before. We’ve known each other for so long.”

Jisung is in so much pain. “Haha, yeah me too.”

You approach the chair and straddle it like you would if someone was actually sitting there. Since there isn’t, you fold your arms on the back of it and rest your chin on your wrists.

“I always lay some ground rules before I start, even if they’re a regular.”

“Ground rules?” Jisung asks.

You nod. “They’re not allowed to touch me whatsoever. I’ll touch them unless they request otherwise, but only on the face and the shoulders, sometimes the chest. I’m not going to grope them or anything like that, even though I am grinding on them.” You demonstrate with the air, pretending to cup someone’s face and bring it closer to yours before pushing them away. “The whole thing is essentially just teasing someone for however long they booked me for.”

“Are there any other rules?” Jisung asks, trying to seem engaged and eager to learn more about your profession instead of focusing on how you’re riding that chair.

“Yeah, one of my biggest rules is that the client has to stay fully clothed the whole time. There are exceptions like if they’re wearing a tie, I might loosen it or undo it. I’ve worn their ties myself once or twice.”

“Has anyone ever, um,” he pauses.

You cock your head to the side in intrigue. “Has anyone ever what?”

“Has anyone ever like, cum? While you’re doing that?”

“It’s happened before. But they usually try not to because they’d have to pay me more. It’s in my contract. It’s also really embarrassing for them and it’s unsanitary- I won’t get into the details but it’s not very common.”

It definitely would have happened to Jisung if he had gone through with it. Honestly, it would probably happen if anyone were to give him a lap dance, but if it was you? He wouldn’t stand a chance.

“But it’s normal for guys to get, like, hard, right?”

“Oh yeah, that’s pretty much guaranteed. Anyone would get turned on if someone was grinding on them. Sometimes it happens before I’m even on their lap, like you’re hard right now and I haven’t even touched you.”

“Wha-” Jisung’s neck snaps as he looks to confirm what he already knows to be true. He rushes to cover the bulge in his pants with his hands even though it’s way too late for that. “Fuck, I didn’t- it doesn’t-”

You brush it off. “Don’t worry, Ji. It’s a perfectly normal reaction to seeing something arousing. It means I’m good at my job.”

“No, but I’m your best friend! God, you must feel so objectified and weird...”

“Jisung, I promise I don’t feel weird or objectified. Is this too weird for you? Do you want to stop?”

“I- uh, I don’t know,” he admits. Obviously he likes what he sees, his hard dick pressing against the zipper of his jeans is proof enough of that. But he’s also never felt so embarrassed in his life. It feels so... wrong of him to be taking advantage of the situation like this. He should have taken up your offer to go join the rest of his brothers at the party because now he’s fucked. He’s a weak, weak man. “Are you sure you’re okay with... it?”

“Of course,” you assure him. “That’s the point of this birthday present anyway.”

Maybe, but it wasn’t supposed to be a present from you. Jisung is so overwhelmed by thoughts and emotions that he can’t even focus on what you’re doing anymore. He zones out, willing his erection to go down until he remembers that he’s supposed to be paying attention. He’s supposed to be learning.

“So I go back and forth between grinding on the guy and dancing in front of him so it doesn’t get too intimate, and then towards the end I usually- fuck, it’s kind of hard to do when there isn’t someone actually here.” He watches you stand up and approach him. “Do you mind if I just....” you trail off expectantly.

Are you asking what Jisung thinks you’re asking? Is whatever it is you’re trying to show him so important that you need to torture him further?

“If you just what?”

“If I sit on your lap for this part? It’ll be quick, I swear.”

“Go ahead,” Jisung says before he can argue with himself.

He had already dug his grave, he might as well bury himself too.

You take a deep breath before placing a hand on each of his shoulders for balance and lowering yourself onto his lap. His legs are spread a bit so they’re kind of awkward to straddle but you’re used to it so it’s easy to adjust.

“Wow, you are hard,” you breathe out, laughing a little.

Jisung wants to die. He takes a deep breath of his own and steels himself before asking, “what was it that you wanted to show me?”

Your eyes light up like you had forgotten why you were sitting on him in the first place. “Oh, right. I put the music on a timer to fade out at the end of the session so when that happens I’ll grab the guy’s face like this,” you take Jisung by the cheeks and squeeze so that he’s forced to open his mouth.

He wonders briefly if you’re about to spit in his mouth but to his disappointment you make him bite down on a piece of paper instead. He furrows his eyebrows in confusion and reaches up to pluck whatever it is from between his lips.

“What is this?”

“My business card!” you exclaim. “Smart right? I wanted to do something memorable and so far it’s gotten over fifty percent of my clients to become repeat customers.”

Jisung snorts. “Yeah, it’s definitely that and not the fact that you’re hot and have your tits out.”

“It’s all part of the sell,” you joke.

“Well, I can see why you’re working all the time,” Jisung quips. “You’re very good at what you do.”

“I’m glad you think so.”

“Of course I do.”

“I’m just sorry I ruined your birthday present,” you sigh.

Jisung frowns. “What do you mean? You didn’t ruin it.”

“Yeah, I did! If your friends had hired someone else you would have gotten a real lap dance, not... an instructional.”

“I didn’t even know that’s what I was supposed to be getting! I didn’t know they had hired anyone!”

“Still, it could have been fun.”

“No, this was fun. I’m glad it was you.”

The worry line between your eyebrows softens and you smile fondly at him, making Jisung’s stomach do a somersault. Out of everything that had happened tonight, that was what affected him the most.

He doesn’t know how much time passes but suddenly your expression changes. Your gaze shifts from relaxed to focused as you sit up and lean in, closer and closer until your nose is pressed to his. Jisung doesn’t want to speak. He doesn’t want to break the spell. His fists clench and unclench repeatedly at his sides. He’s desperate to touch you, to wrap his arms around your waist and pull you to him, but he won’t break your rule unless you give him permission.

You break it for him, grabbing his hands and placing them on your hips.

“Is this okay?” you whisper.

He nods, his forehead knocking against yours. “Yeah.”

“Are you sure?”

“Positive.”

You swallow hard, eyes searching his for something he isn’t sure he has. “Can I kiss you?”

“Please.”

Jisung has fantasized about this moment countless times and not a single one compares to it. Your lips are soft and warm and you taste like that chapstick you always keep in your pocket. Jisung recognizes it immediately because he’s borrowed it more than a few times.

You moan and run a hand through his hair, pulling at the ends. It’s gotten a lot longer recently but you seem to like it. In fact, part of the reason he hasn’t cut it yet is because you keep complimenting the way he’s been styling it. He wonders if you like how it feels between your fingers.

To his own surprise, Jisung is the first to use tongue. He feels your lips part and uses the opportunity to slide his tongue between them like you had with your business card. You moan again and this time you grind down on his lap for real.

It catches you both off guard. Jisung’s hips follow the movement of yours, chasing your heat even when you lift yourself off of him in a panic.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to-”

“Don’t be,” he murmurs, trying to hide a smug grin, “it’s a perfectly normal reaction.”

Your eyes narrow at him. “I guess I deserved that.”

“Mhm- mph!” You kiss him before he can get another word out, this time shoving your tongue in his mouth.

Now that you know it’s okay to grind on him, you don’t hold back. You seem so eager. If Jisung didn’t know better he’d think this had been your plan all along.

“God, baby,” he whimpers, shocked at how shattered his own voice sounds. “This feels so good but if you don’t stop I’m gonna-” he can’t bring himself to say it. “I’m not going to last.”

You slow down and lift your head from the crook of his shoulder. “Do you want to stop?”

He shakes his head. “I don’t know how far you’re okay with going but...”

“We can go as far as you want, Ji. You’re the one...” you don’t finish the sentence but Jisung knows what you’re implying. It isn’t hard to guess. It’s why he’d been given that stupid nickname freshman year.

“You’d... you’d want me in that way?” he asks. He’s almost afraid of the answer because he doesn’t think you feel the same way about him. Even if you are down to fuck, he doesn’t think it’s because you have a big giant crush on him like he does you. Maybe you’re just horny or maybe you’d be doing it as a favor.

“Of course.” It’s not an answer that quells the burning questions he’s been holding onto since he met you but it does enough to temper the flames a bit. You want him. It’s enough. “But... you don’t care that your first time would be with a stripper?”

He knows that’s not what you mean. He knows you’re worried that he feels like it’s inorganic. That it’s part of the job you had been hired to do. But he knows the truth. That isn’t what it is at all.

He shakes his head. “My first time would be with my best friend. There’s no one else I’d rather it be with.”

lmk what you think i always appreciate feedback!!

#happy birthday sungie <3 #still 18 min left where i am #lmk if you want to read the actual sex part #i wanted to include it in this but ran out of time #collision #stray kids smut #skz smut #han smut #han jisung smut #jisung smut #stray kids x reader #skz x reader #han x reader #han jisung x reader #jisung x reader #stray kids x female reader #han x female reader

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dancingtotuyo · 6 months

Text

Part I

High Infidelity | Joel Miller X Female Reader

Rating: Mature/Explicit

Summary: Tommy gets himself into more trouble than he can get out of.

Tags: Tommy x Reader, Joel x Reader, Tommy's Wife Reader, infidelity, emotional affair, slow burn (as much as you can get for 5 chapters), Tommy goes to jail, Reader has had a child

Warnings: US justice system (it don't work, probably bad understanding of how it operates), mention of drugs & weapons, alcohol consumption, let me know if I missed anything

Notes: when I planned this out, I didn’t realize I’d scheduled the first chapter to drop on Pedro’s birthday! So happy birthday to him!

Shout out to @janaispunkfor beta reading and @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin for letting me scream about this endlessly and shaping this world. Finally, @saradika-graphics for sustaining our fic writers with an endless supply of dividers!

Words: 4396

Series Masterlist | Author Masterlist | Daily Clicks for Palestine & Other resources

You’re asleep, or at least you should be except the phone is ringing and the bed is cold next to you. That’s a bad sign. It always is.

A small grunt echoes from your gut as bare feet hit the cool hardwood floor. You can’t find the phone before it stops, buried under clothes you haven’t folded, scribbled crayon drawings, and bleary eyes. It starts back almost immediately.

“Tommy?”

“He called me.” Joel’s voice echoes through the line. “It’s bad this time.”

“How bad?”

“He asked for a lawyer.”

You press your palm to your forehead. “Shit!”

“The sitter is on her way to yours. I’m getting Sarah up now. We’ll be there in 10.”

“Thank you, Joel.”

“Of course. See you soon.” Joel hangs up.

You roam through the laundry basket for a clean pair of jeans and an acceptable t-shirt. You run a toothbrush through your mouth to freshen your breath. You do your best to push back all the possibilities running through your brain.

You crack open the door to Nathaniel’s room. Your two-year-old son sleeps tightly, his mop of black curls spread out on the pillow. You want to run your hand through his curls and kiss his cheek, but he’s the world’s lightest sleeper, just like his daddy.

The sitter is there 5 minutes later, all too familiar with this routine for your liking. Joel ushers in a bleary-eyed minutes later. He tucks her into the spare room bed. Sarah doesn’t ask questions. She’s asleep before he can kiss her head.

You move like the well-oiled machine that you are. He grabs your purse, ensuring the checkbook is there while you say a few words to the sitter. Joel hands you the small black bag and a light jacket.

Doors open before you and close without you touching them. You and Joel are riding down the highway. The windows are cracked, the breeze playing through your hair as street lights play off the windows, growing bigger and brighter as your eyes fill with tears. You chew on your thumb as the thoughts finally begin to take over.

You’ve felt Tommy slipping these past few months. You’ve tried to ignore it, excuse it. He’s had a hard time adjusting. This is hardly the first time he’s been in jail. It feels like a weekly occurrence at this point, but he’s never needed a lawyer. He’s never been held longer than overnight.

“Did he say what they got him for?”

“No… he asked me to come alone.”

“Fucking hell.” You run a hand over your face. Tommy’s antics are aging you prematurely.

“He’s going to be okay.”

“Says who?” You snap. “We’ve been doing this dance for months, Joel! I know he’s having a hard time adjusting, but maybe we’ve been giving him too much room.”

Joel sighs, letting silence fall over the truck cabin. His blinker clicks as you turn into the familiar station. You wonder if the night shift is actually going to fulfill their punch card offer this time.

Joel has barely pushed the truck into park before you’re out of the vehicle, flying through the front doors. Joel is hot on your heels, not bothering to lock his beat-up pickup.

Your ID is already on the desk, you don’t even have to say a name. The officer at the front desk doesn’t need your license. He barely looks at it. It’s all a raging formality. They escort you to a room, not a holding cell as you’re used to.

Tommy sits at a table talking to a tired-looking public defender. His head snaps up, eyes jumping from your face to Joel’s behind you. “I told you to come alone.”

“The fuck you did Thomas James Miller!” You say before Joel can defend himself.

Tommy stands to his feet, the chair skidding back. “You’re not supposed to be here for this!”

“I’m your wife! You call me!”

“Or maybe you should be home with your child!”

“Oh, I should be home with our son? And what about you?”

“I’m not having this fight with you right now.” Tommy throws his hands in the air moving his attention to Joel who leans against the wall, arms crossed over his chest. “You were supposed to come alone!”

“What’re you in for?” You ask, not giving Joel a chance to answer. Not that he was going to. He knows not to let Tommy deflect to him when you are around.

Tommy sighs falling into the chair like a rag dog. Stress lines engrave themselves deep into his forehead.

“Tommy…” A pit drops in your stomach. “What did they get you with?”

“A gun-“

“Without a permit.” The Lawyer speaks for the first time. There’s a roll to Tommy’s eyes.

“And?”

Tommy can’t meet your eyes. He shuffles in his seat.

“Tommy,” Joel says, voice low and gruff. It’s automatic, parental even.

“A couple grams of coke.”

“Fucking hell, Tommy.” Joel hits his head against the wall.

“I didn’t- I never took it. I promise.”

You take a shaking breath, trying to calm your worn nerves. “So what are we looking at here?” You ask, eyes trained on the lawyer.

You see Tommy out of your peripheral vision using his pleading puppy dog eyes on you. You square your shoulders determined not to fall for it. They’re the reason you’re in this boat in the first place.

“Babe-“

You hold up a hand cutting him off, eyes trained on the lawyer. “What are we looking at?”

“Probably Jail time. DA’s office has been cracking down on these kinds of cases the past few months.”

“Is he getting out tonight?”

The lawyer shakes his head. “We have to wait until tomorrow for arraignment and bail.”

“Then, I’ll see you two tomorrow.” You give them a firm nod, exiting the room in a flash.

The Texas air wraps around you as you exit the stale police station. Joel’s pick-up is cool under your fingers, anchoring you to something.

This can’t be happening. You’ve felt him slipping through your fingertips for months, but you wonder if this is it if this is the moment you lose Tommy for good.

Firm arms wrap around your waist. It’s a warmth you’ve become way too familiar with over the last couple of years. You turn around, letting your tears soak Joel’s shirt as they have so many times before. You twist his shirt in your fists as he cradles your head against his chest. There’s a slight sway in his movements, soothing your wrenching soul.

“We’re going to get through this.”

“He had cocaine!”

Joel sighs. “I know.”

“I can’t keep doing this. It’s going to kill me.”

“Let’s get you home. Get some sleep.” Joel squeezes you and then guides you into the passenger side seat. “We have a long day tomorrow.”

“What time is-“

“Lawyer said about 11. Wants us to meet them at the courthouse at 10.”

You nod, clearing the tears. “Okay.”

The drive home is quiet. You’re used to Tommy throwing out every excuse in the book, promising he’s going to change. The silence makes you want to scream. How do you go forward? How do you explain to Nathaniel that Daddy won’t be home for a long time? Jail Time. It bounces off the walls of your brain like a gong over and over.

You’ve done this before. Raise your son alone. Tommy was overseas when Nathaniel was born. You did the first 3 months on your own- or sort of alone. Joel and Sarah spent many nights at your and Tommy’s home those first few months helping you through the learning curve of being a new parent. If you’re completely honest, you’re still doing it alone, but now with a shell of a man to look after as well.

Joel hands the sitter cash and she’s gone without a word. Your purse and jacket are forgotten on the chair as you collapse onto the couch, holding your head in your hands. The weight of the night threatens to finally break you.

“Here.” The cool weight of a bottle presses against your jeans.

“Thank you.” You take it, tipping the bottle back in unison with Joel in a quiet ritual.

“I think I’m just gonna crash on the couch tonight.”

You nod, a humorless huff leaving your chest. “Just like the good ole days, I guess.”

Joel looks over your profile, catches the wear in your frame, the silent tears slipping from your eyes. The rattle in your chest changes from sarcastic to sorrow and then a sob slips from your lips.

Joel sets his beer on the coffee table, arm slipping around your shoulders. He pulls your loose body into his side. For the second time that night, your face burrows into his chest.

“Shhh, I’ve got you, Darlin’. We’ll get through this.” His voice is soft and soothing. His fingers brush softly over your head down to the back of your neck. You fall asleep like that, lulled by the steady beat of his heart.

You wake up to the morning sun, your body stiff from sleeping on the couch against Joel. He’s up, the smell of coffee wafting toward you. You hear him talking to Sarah and Nathaniel in the kitchen.

You stand, stretching out your sore muscles in wrinkled clothing following the promise of caffeine. Sarah and Nathaniel sit at the kitchen table with syrupy smiles.

“Mommy!” Nathaniel yells.

You force a sleepy smile, kissing his sticky cheek. “Morning, sweet cheeks.” You dip your finger in the syrup on his plate, licking it off your fingertip making him and Sarah laugh. “Morning, Sarah Bear.”

“Morning, Auntie,” She says. “Your clothes are wrinkled.”

Joel’s hand lands on your back and a cup of coffee lands in your hands, sending warmth through your body. The hum in your body is automatic. “Thank you.”

Joel only nods, returning his attention to the pancakes sizzling on the stovetop. You sip on the hot coffee. Joel prepared it exactly how you like it, just like he always does.

“You hate pancakes.”

“Yeah, but the gremlins love them.”

“That they do.” You grin, sipping on the coffee again. “Ugh, it’s infuriating the way you come into my home and make better coffee than I do.”

Joel chuckles, flipping two fluffy pancakes onto a plate. He tops them with cut-up strawberries and whipped cream handing them to you with the biggest shit-eating grin. “And pancakes.”

For a minute you forget it all, the impending arraignment, your husband in jail for unregistered weapons and drug possession, the two children sitting mere feet away. It’s just you and Joel and a stack of whipped cream-covered pancakes. Joel who held your hand through labor and helped you with midnight feedings. The man who got you through Tommy’s deployment. The one who always calls the sitter and drives you to the police station when Tommy gets himself in trouble. You and your rock.

The shattering of glass echoes through the kitchen. “Uh-oh!”

You spin around, taking in the broken glass on the floor. Orange juice leaks over the table, dripping over the edge. You and Joel spring into action, pancakes forgotten. “Both of you stay in your seats,” You say.

Joel grabs the broom before you, sweeping up the shards, his feet already protected in his boots. You turn off the stove, keeping an eye on both children to ensure you don’t add bloodied feet to your morning agenda.

“Sorry, Daddy,” Sarah says, keeping her feet crisscrossed beneath her. She looked up at you. “Sorry about your glass, Aunt Bonnie.”

You smile at her, handing Joel a towel to soak up the spilled juice. “It’s okay, Sarah bear. I just want you to be okay.”

She nods back, curls bouncing around her face. “I’m okay.”

You sigh, staring at the pancakes on the counter. The whipped cream has melted into a lopsided mound, half of it turned back into cream that soaks through the pancakes. You take a bite, the flavors settling nicely over your tongue even if the texture of the pancakes is slightly off. For a man who claims not to like them, Joel Miller sure knows how to make a mean pancake.

Your mind plays back to the nickname. Not many people call you Bonnie anymore. Just a few years ago, it had been a constant. Stemming from Tommy’s group of army buddies, they declared you Bonnie for always stealing Tommy away from their group cookouts and whatnot, and Tommy was Clyde due to his propensity for getting into trouble. For whatever reason, probably just to annoy you, Tommy had introduced you to Sarah as “His Bonnie.” So that’s what she calls you.

Joel empties the remaining shards into the trash can. Several high-pitched clinks sound off until the shards settle. Your fork stirs the whipped cream and syrup together.

“Pancakes are usually best eaten, not played with.” Joel teases, picking his coffee up to take a sip. His fingers graze your arm as he sets it back down, returning the broom back to its rightful place.

”You don’t even like pancakes.” You furrowed your brow, taking another bite. Whipped cream marks your upper lip. You take another bite. “God, one day you have to tell me your secret.”

Joel chuckles. He leans across the counter, elbows resting against the granite much like yours. He sips on his coffee, eyes watching as you stuff another bite into your mouth. “I’ve got many secrets, Darlin.”

You laugh, mouth full of fruit and cream. “You’re an open fucking book, Miller.”

”I think I could surprise you several times over.” He chuckles. Something sparks behind his eyes like he’s actually keeping something from you. You’ll figure it out. You always do.

“These are delicious, Joel, but if I take another bite, I’m gonna be sick.”

Joel frowns. “You feeling okay? You don’t have a fever do you?” He presses his fingers to your forehead before you can roll your eyes.

“Anxiety.”

Joel nods. “You’ve got a little-“ He motions to his mouth.

You cock your head to the side brain not picking up on the obvious signals. He sighs in mock exasperation. Reaching forward, he wipes the whipped cream from your lip with his thumb, pressing the excess to his mouth. The moment catches you off guard, something stirring in the back of your mind as you zero in on the thumb pressed to his lips.

“You should go get ready.” He says as if nothing happened, taking your plate. “We need to leave in an hour.”

You nod, pushing back from the counter. The weight of the day at hand keeps that moment from playing over and over again on a loop.

”Daddy,” Sarah says. “Isn’t it time for school?”

”You’re going to stay here with Nathaniel and Miss Lacy today. Your aunt and I have some things we have to do.”

”Oh,” Sarah nodded. “Uncle Tommy things?”

You stop, sharing a look with Joel. You’ve tried your best to keep Tommy’s troubles from the kids, but it’s inevitable. Sarah is almost 6 after all. She’s always been incredibly perceptive and observant.

“Daddy?” Nathaniel asks, looking around. Your heart breaks a little bit.

Your mind wanders. When will he get to see Tommy again?

Joel takes the lead when you arrive at the courthouse for which you’re grateful. You’re both dressed in nice clothing. High heels clack beneath you. A tie reaches around Joel’s neck. You hold Tommy’s suit in a garment bag as a guard leads you to an office-like room. Tommy sits at a table with his layer from last night and another man you don’t recognize. They seem to be deep in a serious conversation.

All three men turn as you enter, making you feel like you’re in the wrong place. You can’t tell if Tommy is relieved to see you or not. A pit forms in your stomach, like you’re not going to like the outcome of this meeting.

“What’s going on?” You ask.

The door clicks shut behind you as Joel’s scent creeps around you.

”We’re talking.” Tommy says.

“About?” You press.

Tommy sighs, unable to meet your eyes. “A plea deal.”

You bite your lip, tears threatening to spill from your eyes. This is easier. It’s probably better in the long run, but you’re not ready to face the music. You prepared for court, not a plea deal. Not for Tommy to admit guilt with a stroke of a pen, not a judge in sight.

“What’s in it?”

”Baby…” Tommy pleads like he wants to make amends right now.

“What are you signing us up for, Tommy?”

“Two years and a half years. Probation after that.”

You inhale sharply.

“It’s a good deal,” The man you’ve never seen says. “He’s looking at at least twice that if this goes to court, and he will be convicted if this goes to court.”

You look to Tommy’s lawyer for confirmation. He doesn’t make it obvious but gives you a solid nod.

“You were about to sign it.” You look at your husband. It’s not a question.

“Yeah.”

”I’d have appreciated it if you had talked to me first,” you say.

“You’d have told me to sign it.”

You nod, barely keeping the tears at bay. “Yeah.”

The DA holds a pen out to Tommy. Tommy looks back at you for final permission. You give it, watching that expensive ass pen glides across the paper with Tommy’s chicken scratch of a signature. Your heart breaks with each stroke, crumbling a little more as he dots the I and crosses the T.

Joel places a hand on your shoulder. The heat spreads, anchoring you to the moment, keeping you afloat as you stare down the barrel of being a single mother yet again.

Tommy slides the paper back to the DA. He looks them over, tapping them against the table with a satisfied nod as if a family hadn’t been torn apart.

“You have about 30 minutes before they come to get him.”

”That’s it?” You ask. “We can’t even take him ourselves?”

The DA shrugs like he’s being generous, igniting a deep hatred of him inside you. You don’t even know his name. He holds up the papers before sliding them into his briefcase. “Terms of the plea deal.”

You clutch your fists as he walks out of the room. Tommy’s lawyer slips out with him, and then Joel, leaving just you and Tommy.

He stands and you finally realize it’s all happening again. You’ll be alone, worrying about your husband though this time for different reasons.

“Baby, I-” He steps towards you. You don’t move offering zero indication that you register Tommy’s movements.

He reaches for your hands, but you pull them back. “You weren’t supposed to take the Bonnie and Clyde thing seriously.”

You fight back tears, turning so he can’t see them. “Pretty sure they both died.”

A humorless laugh leaves your body as you collapse onto a couch, holding your head in your hands.

Tommy kneels in front of you, slowly peeling your hands from your face, taking them into his. Despite it all, you feel yourself melting into his familiar touch. It only confirms what you are beginning to fear. It doesn’t matter what Tommy does, you’ll always be here waiting for him. He is the love of your life and you would burn the world down to look into his sweet brown eyes and feel his skin against yours.

You look at him through blurry eyes, sniffing back the congestion gathering in your sinuses. He gives you that crooked smile you love so much, and you feel better despite the weight bearing on your shoulders. The past three years have aged him ten. You suppose time has done the same to you.

Slowly, he presses his lips to your hands. “I know I fucked up. If-” He pauses, swallowing. His thumb plays with the thin gold band on your left hand. “If you’re not waiting for me when I get out I understand.”

You squeeze his hand. “You’re not getting rid of me that easily.”

Tommy snorts. “Easily? Just last week you were yelling at me for putting you through hell.”

“Yeah, well…” You run your fingers through his black curls as you sniff back your tears. “You kinda hold my heart in your hands, Tommy Miller. I don’t think I could get it back if I tried.”

He smiles at you. You lean forward, pressing your lips to his. His hands creep up your thighs as he rises to his feet. Your back collides with the plush back of the couch as your fingers tangle in his long hair. Tommy presses his tongue into your mouth, a smile growing across your face. This is the first taste of your Tommy you’ve had in months, the one you fell in love with.

The door opens, and before Tommy can pull away, Joel’s gruff voice echoes through the room. “Prospect of going to jail really puts you two in the mood, huh?”

Heat surges to your cheeks. You’re not sure why. You and Tommy had been caught in much more compromising positions throughout your relationship.

“Gotta get what I can while I’m still a free man.” Tommy grins at his big brother, pressing another exaggerated kiss to your lips. Joel’s eyes move to the corner of the room. Your smile feels a little more forced after that.

Your thirty minutes fly at lightning speed. They take Tommy before you’re ready. Any energy you gain from Tommy’s affection is drained the moment he’s led out of sight. You barely catch the look he gives Joel.

”Take care of them.”

Joel nods, gripping his brother’s shoulder. There’s a silent exchange between them. “Take care of yourself.”

A clerk goes over everything with you and Joel. You’re given a strict list of items you can drop off for Tommy at the prison. You don’t process a word, the weight of it all falling on top of you. You came to the courthouse today expecting an arraignment and bail, not to be kissing your husband goodbye for the next year and change. It feels unfair like something was taken from you.

Joel is the one who keeps it together. He always keeps it together. He asks the questions and makes note of the important things. He secures the horde of important documents held limply in your hands.

When the clerk says your name for a second time, or maybe a third, you’re not sure, it snaps you out of the fog. Joel’s eyes are sympathetic as he holds out a pen. His single nod tells you he has all the information in his head. You can sign. You don’t have to think. You sign as flashes of Tommy doing the same filter through your vision.

The pen drops to the table as you push back headed straight for the nearest exit. You feel like you’re in a dream. Joel catches up, tucking everything you forgot under his arm. He grabs your elbow, steering your aimless body in the right direction. He doesn’t ask if you’re okay. He knows the answer.

You feel like a toddler, wandering and lost, relying on Joel’s firm grip to get anywhere. He opens doors and boots you into his pickup, patting the door once it’s closed. The car is warm from the sun. You fumble with the seat belt, but Joel’s calloused hands are there, guiding your weary bones.

The ride is silent. You basket in the warm sun, head pressed to the window with your eyes closed. The world feels so far away, but you’re extremely tuned into the heat of the sun, the rumble of the truck on the shitty roads, the blinking indicator light, and Joel’s listless tapping on the steering wheel when the vehicle draws to a stop from time to time, toeing the line between consciousness.

This is just a dream, right? You’ll wake up soon and Tommy will be behind you, drawing random patterns around your stomach hip, or thigh. The past year of your life and the past 12 hours have just been the world’s longest nightmare. That’s all.

The truck lurches to a stop. The engine turns off with a distinct click. Your eyes blink open slowly. Your stretch out, toes curling in your dress shoes. Joel’s tie lays haphazardly on the dash. His cuffs are unbuttoned, pushed to his elbows, and the top couple of buttons of his dress shirt are undone. He still looks out of place in his dress attire, but a little more like himself. He hadn’t dressed this nicely for your and Tommy’s courthouse wedding.

Your eyes drift out the windshield. A neon light reflects off your irises. This isn’t home. You look at Joel. “Why are we here?”

His seat belt comes undone with a click, snapping back. “We’re going to go in there and get drunk off our asses.”

”It’s the middle of the day.”

Joel raises an eyebrow at you.

”Can we just go home?”

”No.”

”Why the fuck not?”

“Because we have a sitter all day, and you deserve a night before the weight of the world falls back on your shoulders.”

”Joel.” You want to go home and crawl in bed.

”This is three times longer than his deployment.” The statement hits you square in the chest. “You need this. Give yourself today. If you don’t do it now, you never will.”

You sigh, staring down the flickering neon in front of you. He’s right. You know he is. You might be exhausted, but it’s tempting. When was the last time you let go? Maybe that one good month you had after Tommy got back? When it was all making up for lost time and shit.

“We’ve got a sitter for the whole day,” Joel says. “My treat.”

You inhale deeply, allowing the memories of drunken nights past to fill your brain. You can feel the thrum of alcohol already. You haven’t cut loose in a long time unless you count the nights spent at home alone drowning away the world after you’d tucked your son in for the night.

Your fingers press the red release button of your seat belt. The metal buckle hits the window. “Fuck it. Let’s go.”

Joel smiles, dragging you inside.

Taglist: @pamasaur @alltheotps @rizzraa @moel-jiller @misstokyo7love @justagalwhowrites @pedritosgfreal

#the last of us #joel miller #tommy miller #tlou hbo #tlou #tlou fanfiction #tommy miller x reader #joel miller x reader #pedro boys #ppcu fanfiction #pedrostories #pedro stories #high infidelity (joel miller)

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annewithaneofthegreengable · 5 months

Text

Homecoming Daydream Part 3

Summary: “And you’re mine“, she sighed happily. All mine.

Pairing: Toto Wolff x reader.

Genre: Romance, fluff and smut.

WC: 4.473

Author's note: This is a multiple-chapter Toto x Reader fanfic. Noted that English is not my mother tongue so there will be mistakes.

Hi guys, it’s been a whirlwind journey for me to create something such a beautiful piece of work and to actually publish it on here. Thanks for all the love and support. I love you all! And here it is the very last part of the story. I love every bit of it.

Thanks @peachapat119 for being such an amazing beta reader 🫶🏻

Part 1

Part 2

Y/n leaned forward getting a closer look at the mirror inside the bathroom as she carefully re-applied her plush, red lip. She smacked her lips together to get the right shade of red in how it should be. Slowly, she let out a sigh and took a deep breath. This was not the first time today that she needed to remind herself she is, no was getting married. The reality still hadn’t fully sunk in. Finally, they were married. She was married. Married to him. To the man, she held close to her heart and mind.

As if sensing she was thinking about him, she heard her husband’s steps in the bedroom. Of course, since she thought about him all the time, the timing wasn’t a hard feat to manage. She looked up in the mirror and was met with a smile that threatened to melt her bones into goo. Good thing he stepped up behind her to hold her upright, his warm hands encircling her waist in a loving embrace.

“Hi there, Schzat,” He softly murmured in his low voice, almost as a whisper, ones that she can not be mistaken.

“Hi,” she whispered happily, hands on top of his around her waist.

“I missed you downstairs. Is there anything wrong?”

“I’m fine, just needed to freshen up a bit.”

Toto hummed contentedly, softly swaying them to the music that drifted through the open windows. She leaned back into him, enjoying how safe and protected she felt in his arms. He placed a chaste kiss on her shoulder, before tracing the shell of her ear with his nose.

„Have I told you how incredibly beautiful you look today?“

Her smile turned into a grin.

„Only about a dozen times.“

He shook his head and tsk-ed her quietly.

“A dozen? That’s not nearly enough. Let me remedy that right now.“

He turned her around in his arms until they were face to face and she was almost blinded by the happy expression on his face. He looked almost boyish with joy.

He got that boyish look that I like in a man

I am an architect, I'm drawing up the plans

It's like I'm seventeen, nobody understands

No one understands

An angelic voice inside of her head suddenly sing along to the song that made her laugh aloud.

“You look utterly, undeniably, devastatingly gorgeous tonight, Mrs. Wolff.”

Y/n giggled.

“You really love calling me that, don’t you?“

“I really, really do.“

Toto slid his arms over her waist and back, until he reached her neck, gently cradling her head while he pulled her in for a kiss. It wasn’t their first kiss tonight, and it wouldn’t be their last by a long shot, but that didn’t make it any less remarkable.

Their kisses were filled with passion and desire, each one igniting a fire within them that had been burning since they first laid eyes on each other. Toto's hands traveled down her back, pulling her closer to him as their lips moved together in a dance of love and lust.

He could feel her heart beating rapidly against his chest, matching the rhythm of his own. Their bodies pressed against each other, fitting together perfectly like two puzzle pieces that had finally found their match.

As the kiss deepened, their breath mingled together, creating a sweet and intoxicating mixture that filled the air around them. Toto couldn't get enough of her, couldn't resist the pull she had on him. He wanted to drown in her, to lose himself in the passion that consumed them both.

And as they finally pulled away, both breathless and flushed with desire, Toto knew that this was just the beginning of a love that would last a lifetime. Their connection was undeniable, their chemistry electric. And as he looked into her eyes, he knew that he had found his soulmate in her.

Toto’s body vibrated with a moan of his own, as he matched her intensity. The sound of it made her insides flutter and liquid heat pool at the apex of her thighs. Especially since she could feel the effects of their kiss against her stomach, plump and quickly hardening.

Y/n pulled back, trying to catch her breath. Toto didn’t care, he continued the onslaught of kisses on her body, trailing down the sides of her throat, following the neckline of her dress.

“Look so perfect, so beautiful, mein Engel“, he murmured, his hot breath against her skin. “Can’t believe you’re mine.“

Y/n gasped and giggled.

“And you’re mine“, she sighed happily. All mine.

Y/n looked into his eyes, seeing the depth of his love and devotion reflected back at her. She knew that they were meant to be together, that their love was a once-in-a-lifetime kind of love.

In that moment, they were lost in each other, consumed by the intensity of their love. Nothing else mattered, not the past or the future, only the present moment filled with love and passion. Y/n knew that she was truly home, in the arms of the man she loved more than anything in the world.

She smiled mischievously when pulled back from the kiss and licked her lips, feeling a surge of desire buzzing through her veins. Closing the distance between them, she ran her hands up his chest, feeling the hard muscles beneath her touch. Toto's breath hitched as her fingers trailed down his abdomen, causing her to smirk in satisfaction. When she looked up at him, she saw a mix of desire and amusement in his eyes.

“What are you up to, Schatz?” He asked, a hint of challenge in his tone.

She grinned, teasingly tugging on his tie before trailing her fingers along the waistband of his trousers.

"Just appreciating what's mine," she replied coyly.

Toto chuckled, his gaze darkening as she continued to tease him.

"Is that so? And why did you push me away earlier?"

She shrugged playfully, running her nails lightly across his waistband.

"I just remembered something I wanted to try."

"What's that?" he asked, his curiosity piqued.

She hummed softly, pressing a kiss to his neck before sinking to her knees in front of him. The surprise in his expression brought a thrill to her as she slowly unbuckled his belt, revealing his erection straining against his briefs.

"I couldn't stop thinking about doing this last night," she murmured, her voice low and seductive.

"Thinking about what, Liebe? Teasing me?" he growled, his desire evident in his voice.

Ignoring the submissive urge within her, she confidently pulled down his briefs and wrapped her hand around his cock, eliciting a groan from him.

“I swore to give you all of mine. So this belongs to me, right?” She asked in a sultry tone, looking at him through her eyelashes.

He gazed down at her, his breathing heavy, before finally closing his eyes and nodding.

“I’m yours, Schatz. Yours, forever, If you have me.”

"Good boy," she purred, stroking him slowly. "You'll only ever come for me, won't you?"

"Only for you," he replied, his voice strained with desire.

She smiled wickedly, enjoying the power she held over him.

"Remember that, my dear husband. You belong to me, completely and utterly."

She leaned forward, bracing herself on his muscular thighs and stuck out her tongue, letting some saliva trickle off onto the head of his cock. With her fingertips, she dragged the liquid downward, over the thick pulsing vein running down the middle, until she could draw little circles on the skin of his sack. When she heard another sharp exhale from above, she stopped tracing and gripped him again, and started pumping him in lazy strokes.

"Hmm, I’ve always loved how hard you get for me, dear husband."

He twitched in her hand and her smile turned into a sly grin.

"Fuck, Schatz. Whatever you're planning on doing, you better be ready for the consequences."

The threat sent a tingle down her spine. And when she looked up, she was met with that beautiful intensity, those brown eyes wanting. When she sped up her strokes just slightly, his gaze darkened and dropped from her face to her hand, more specifically her finger. The finger that now carried his diamond ring, sparkling in the low light. Her heart fluttered unevenly in her chest. Leave it to her husband to be turned on by the physical proof of their commitment.

"All I plan on doing is pleasing my husband. How am I doing so far?"

As she continued to stroke him, she could sense his control slipping away. The way his breath caught in his throat, the way his fingers dug into the sheets beneath him. She knew exactly how to push his buttons and she reveled in the power she held over him in this moment. The ring on her finger served as a reminder of their love and devotion, but in this moment, it was just a symbol of their shared desire and passion. And as she watched him come undone beneath her touch, she knew that they were connected on a deeper level than just the physical. Their love was a force to be reckoned with, and she was determined to show him just how much she adored him in every way possible.

She watched, mesmerized as his Adam’s apple bobbed in his throat. His jaw clenched, as she kept up her movements.

“I love it when you touch me, Schatz. But you know what I need to be truly satisfied.“

Yes, she knew. By now she was very familiar with Toto’s single-minded need to drown her in pleasure, pulling endless orgasms out of her body until she was a helpless, boneless mess.

Y/n could feel her arousal soaked through her panties. She was dying as much as Toto, she wanted to touch her self but as if he could read her mind

“Don’t you dare to do so, Liebe. Even on our wedding day, you know full-well that that’s not the place for you to touch.”

The tinge of anger in his voice only spurned her on further. She took him back into her mouth, pushing forward until he hit the back of her throat, hollowing out her cheeks and sucking gently as she pulled back. When he groaned loudly as she took him deeper, she could feel the sound vibrating through her entire body.

Toto was getting close, too. She could tell by the tension in his strained muscles, his irregular breathing and uneven pace. He leaned back to hold on to the counter behind him, and something crinkled and dropped to the ground. But neither of them was able to care.

Y/n flicked her tongue against the head of his cock and sucked again, harder this time, tightening her lips around him. She rubbed her other hand over his thigh, moving higher to cradle his balls in her palm, rolling them just slightly.

Toto’s hips jerked as he pushed back into her mouth and he let out another guttural groan. The sound drove her mad with lust as she pushed herself to the edge, the gentle climax relaxing not just her core, but also her throat, as she took him deeper and moaned.

He cursed through clenched teeth and as soon as Y/n felt his hands in her hair, she also felt him spill in her mouth, hot and perfect. She dutifully swallowed every last drop and kept licking up and down his shaft as Toto panted heavily. He finally stopped moving and cradled her head in his hands, his cock still hard and throbbing on her tongue. Then he looked down, back at her and drew in a sharp breath.

“Holy shit“, he murmured when he got back to his senses.

In one swift move, he grabbed her by the elbows and pulled her up against him, kissing her with the hunger of a man who always wanted more. She melted into him, returning the kiss and pressing herself against his still-hard erection, hoping for the second round she suddenly very much craved.

They went back downstairs after Y/n managed to fix herself up somewhat. Though Toto immensely enjoyed the sight of his wife’s thoroughly fucked up hair and make-up, he didn’t need to share it with the rest of the wedding party. She slipped into different clothes, a lighter sundress. Even without the wedding gown, she looked so gorgeous, he couldn’t keep his hands off her, only relenting when she slapped them away on the way down the stairs with a giggle.

Finally, though, they were free from all the wild guests as Toto and Y/n left for their honeymoon.

As soon as they step through the door of their hotel’s room, she attacks him while Toto hasn’t even had the chance to set their hotel’s key card and their luggage down.

“Easy there, Schatz.”

“Don’t blame me, husband.”

After a moment, she begins to suck and nibble at his throat. Toto has to fight back the growl that wants to leave his mouth. God, he’s half hard just from her mouth on his skin, and he’d say, also from having her in his arms, so who is he kidding?

Her hand goes in between their bodies, fingers wrapping around his length as she stands on her tiptoes and captures his mouth in a soft kiss. He groans out shamelessly before he deepens the kiss and slides his tongue into her mouth, tongue stroking along the roof of her mouth. She meets him halfway and closes in harder, hand still jerking him off. Her thumb draws circles on his slit, spreading the pre-cum around the pulsing head.

Y/N’s other hand travels from the back of his neck down to rest on his chest, breaking the kiss by pushing him away. Their foreheads are still fused as they come up for air.

“Toto?”

“Yeah?”

“Take me to bed,”

He smiles before he kisses her again as both his hands thread through her hair, pulling them together. She’s quick to wrap her legs around his middle and Toto does his best to walk to their bedroom without slipping and falling.

It looks like he can reach his destination without incident. He makes sure to reach out and stores in the suitcases, although it’s damn distracting with a girl sucking on his neck.

Toto manages to lay her on the nicely made bed and pushes himself up to study her features. She whines at the loss of warmth. The sound that she lets out makes him chuckle because it’s so fucking adorable. It manages to tear at his heartstrings.

He pushes her further up and lays her head onto the pillow that’s fluffy enough to almost make her disappear. His heart takes another happy leap of the night when he hears her laughing with her head almost buried by the fluffiness of the cushion.

“Y/N? Where did you go?” Toto chuckles amused, his hands battling with the pillow right beside her head, making her reappear, “Oh, there you are,”

There’s still giggling when she reaches out and swats at his chest one-handed. Toto quickly takes hold of it, brings her hand to his lips and places a kiss on her knuckles before he lets go.

Hovering above her, with her hands around his biceps, he takes another moment to look at her. Takes that moment to memorize her face. He doesn’t know why, but he has a feeling that he won’t be able to enjoy her much longer, even though he hopes that his gut feeling isn’t going to be right the sinking feeling is there, and he doesn’t know the origin of it, nor can he explain it.

Her hand strokes up and down his arm, until they wind themselves around his neck, fingers stretching lightly at the short hair on the base of it as she pulls him down, and kisses him sweet and tender. Toto’s train of thought about the bad feeling has been cut short and he gives in to the kiss, his tongue sliding into her mouth before he sucks in her bottom lip, which elicits the sweetest of moans from her. It’s a sound he came to cherish. A sound he wouldn’t mind hearing every day.

He smirks as he kisses lower, down the column of her throat, her hands in his hair as he trails wet kisses down to the swell of her breasts. Her husband sucks in a nipple while he twirls her the other in between two of his fingers. She keens below him, nails digging into his scalp. He alternates between them, thinks he could spend hours between her tits, and wouldn’t even think it was a waste of time because truth be told, they are fucking magnificent.

Like a man on a mission, or rather possessed, Toto works his way further down when she starts to get impatient, chuckles as he licks a trail down her stomach, leaving warm kisses on the marks he sees, making sure that she knows he’s not appalled by them. It’s a part of her and he takes everything he gets.

Y/N spreads her legs willingly. He grins at her enthusiasm, fitting himself in between them before he runs a hand up and down her one thigh while he places quick kisses on the other one. He alternates between them, always stopping short before he reaches the apex of her thighs.

There’s a short intake of breath before she lets out a whine. “Toto!”

He looks up at her, raising one eyebrow with an easy smirk, “What?” He’s being a little shit, and one day, she’ll club him over the head with one of the big books she keeps by her nightstand at home and he wouldn’t even be able to be mad about it because he brought it upon himself.

“You’re teasing,” She manages to push past her lips. It comes out a little strained as she writhes below him.

He takes his time, brushing his beard along the inner of her thighs like he has a death wish. Her glare takes him by surprise, doesn’t mean he’s stopping, though.

“I do?” He asks, feigning innocence.

“God, you’re— fuck!”

He chuckles as he sucks in her clit, has successfully cut her off and made her shut up by doing just that. He lets it out with a lewd pop as one of his thumbs rubs along her slit to her entrance, “Better?”

Looking up at her, he sees her rolling her eyes in annoyance before her hand goes to the top of his head and guides him back down. He can’t hide the satisfied grin as his tongue swipes around her clit.

“Fuck, Y/N,” He growls low, she’s getting so wet, and her slick is painting his face. It’s the fucking best thing.

The fingers of one of his hands toy with her entrance while he makes out with her pussy, his other hand kneading the flesh of her thighs. He slips in a finger, feels her opening up to him and wraps it tight. He lets out another growl that doesn’t sound human.

Y/N wriggles her hips and he slips in another finger, curving them. Her breathing is ragged, both her hands now on his head, fingers threading through his wet mess of hair as she grinds down and he curves his fingers just as he knows will drive her fucking crazy.

“Toto, oh god,”

Jesus, he loves how his name sounds when she says it like that. It’s coming out broken and on edge.

“Come, Liebe,” He manages to breathe out, mouth hovering over her sensitive nub, “Be a good girl, come for me,”

“Fuckfuck,” She arches her back, pulling his head further into her hot cunt. He looks up and catches a glimpse of her tits pressed together by her arms, her nipples stiffening as she throws her head back. Her thighs quiver around him, her pussy clenching down on his two fingers, keeping them captive.

His tongue licks her softly as he helps her ride out her orgasm and places gentle kisses on the hood of her clit. He smiles when he looks up and sees her blinking her eyes open only to beam back at him.

“God, you are fucking amazing,” He whispers lowly before kissing his way up her body, taking a little more time to worry at her nipples, because how can he not. In the background, she chuckles softly.

“I think you got it backwards,” She says playfully, and when he works his way up her throat, she wraps her arms around him tight to bring him down for a searing kiss. It’s all soft and tender, not like the heated kisses he’s used to, and maybe it’s because they are not in a rush. They’ve got all the time in the world because she’s now his wife. And yet, still, he thinks this is just too good to be true.

His throbbing cock brushes against her still-slick cunt, making her hum against his lips.

“Toto, fuck me, please,” She whines, her fingers stroking at his hair, and along the shell of his ear and how can he say no to that?

He pauses and sends her his signature grin, “Yeah?”

“Yeah, please?”

Y/N emphasizes her words with a hip thrust forward, bumping her crotch against his hard-on. He’s so gone, growling again at the feel. What he absolutely loves is how she asks for it, since she knows that he likes to hear her beg and hear her use her words.

Her husband leans down and kisses her nose, “No.”

“No?” She asks with a hint of disappointment in her voice. Her eyebrows rise to her hairline.

“No,” He confirms, pressing a kiss between her eyebrows where a frown is showing. “I’m not fucking you.”

There’s that pout that tears at his heart. Fucking adorable. He can’t help but kiss it.

“Why?”

He grins again, wider this time, “I’m not fucking you, Schatz. I’m going to make love to you.”

At that, her mouth forms an O before her lips stretch across her face. Toto leans down to kiss the wide grin before he heaves himself up onto his haunches.

She’s lying here in front of him. It’s a fucking beautiful sight.

His hands spread her thighs some more and he moves closer on his knees. One of his hands takes his cock and threads the head through her slit, up and down, agonizingly slow. It’s like he wants to memorize the sight and the feel of his wife.

Toto might have gotten lost in the feel of it because she’s reaching down with one hand, scratching at his knee with her nails, “Toto!”

“Huh?” He jerks up momentarily and huffs out a chuckle when he realizes that he’s been stalling and therefore, teasing. “Yeah, okay. Okay, fuck, Y/N. Look at you,” He rests the tip at her entrance, pushing in just a little. His eyes fly to hers and back to her cunt that stretches around the head of his cock, ready to take him in further. He’s having difficulty deciding where to fucking look. Toto decides to keep his eyes on where their body connects, pushing in a little more and watching her pussy stretching around him, watching how it greedily hugs him and pulls him in. Fuck. “So good,” His voice is strained, and he has to swallow hard, “Your pussy feels so fucking good, Schatz,”

She clenches at the praise and he has to stop his movement for a hot minute. Everything is overwhelming, his senses are on overload and he fears that if she does that a few more times, he’ll be coming before he’s even fully inside, which would be really fucking embarrassing.

Her hand is on his knee again, tickling him there, “You okay?”

Chuckling, he lets himself down to hover above her, bracing himself on his forearms, bracketing her head in between. Her arms are around his waist and on his ass, trying to get him to move forward but he’s not budging.

He kisses her, sucks and nibbles at her bottom lip, “Yeah, I’m okay. Just have to take a moment, don’t fucking move,”

Y/N giggles and he bites her lips before he shuts her up by molding his lips to hers. He kisses her hot and hungry, not leaving her time to think about anything else until he’s ready.

Toto’s still kissing her when he finally moves, making her sigh into his mouth, drinking the sounds and hums of contentment, swallowing it as his dick carves a way into her hot heat.

He drops his head, kisses and nibbles his way to her earlobe, sucking it into his mouth as he whispers sweet things into her ear, “Always taking my cock so well, Y/N. So amazing, Schatz,”

This time, when the clench comes, he’s prepared. Toto inhales sharply, holding his breath for a little before he’s able to move again.

His movement is slow. He goes deep, her fingernails digging into his back every time he hits a particularly good spot. Once he figures it out, he keeps hitting that spot over and over. The scratch on his back hurts but it’s the good kind of hurt. He’s sure she’ll leave a mark and is secretly hoping for it.

“Toto,” His name falls like a prayer when she comes again unexpectedly.

From the way she squeezes around him, it’s less hard but more intense. He has to fight to stay inside, her cunt threatening to push him out.

“Fuck, Schatz,” He growls as he molds his mouth back on hers.

There’s this hazy feeling in his gut again when she kisses her, a fear that creeps up his spine that something so perfect can not last. And it’s like he’s begging her from the way he kisses her. Toto tries to tell her without using words and tries to tell her to stay with him. With every thrust of his hips, with every swipe of his tongue, he begs for her to fucking stay.

He comes shortly after, spilling what he thinks is his fucking soul inside of her. He doesn’t move though, keeping himself on his forearms as he tucks her hair behind her ear and rubs his nose against hers. He kisses her gently, kisses her nose, her forehead.

Y/N whines when he rolls off and gets out of bed, but he only does it so he can pull at the sheets and tuck them both inside.

They settle in the bed, her head on his chest as he strokes his fingers along her spine. Her breathing starts to even out, falling into a slumber. She’s his wife.

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bellswlw · 2 years

Text

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ it’s cold here without you ⇨ e. williams

ellie williams x afab!reader

wc: 6k

part 1.5 | part two | masterlist

summary: after Ellie manages to finally get you to pose for her after arriving in Jackson months ago, you two attend the winter dance and it’s then that you realize you might like ellie as more than just a friend…

cw: bff!ellie, mutual pining, jealousy, drug use (weed), alcohol consumption, inexperienced reader, artist!ellie, some fluff, edging (r!receiving kinda), love confessions, making out in semi public space (???) basically grumpy x sunshine, gardener!reader —lmk if there are more tags to add pls—

a/n: this was going to be angsty and sad but then this just happened so enjoy! (please be nice this is my first public wlw post and first fic i’ve been proud of in a minute so pls, pls just don’t be mean. i’ve been so nervous to post this all week help) proofread but there’s probably still some mistakes tbh

From the moment you walked into Jacksons gates, Ellie knew something. Something so small rang in her ears. So much so it almost hurt, it made her want to wince at the sight of you like you were a walking orb of fire and you had just exploded right in front of her.

She knew when you met Shimmer for the first time, she knew in the dining hall, and at the library and the school and the church. Especially at the church. She knew she would never be able to let you go. But she knew she would have to, eventually.

You spun slowly around in Ellie’s desk chair, your head resting back as the smoke filled your lungs more and more with each rotation.

“Please. I don’t want to go alone, I won’t know anyone else there.” you say up into the ceiling while you wait for a response. You hear the crackle of weed burning straight through Ellie’s chest before anything else.

Her voice drops a little low when she finally speaks, the smoke falling from her lips like fog rolling over a still lake. “I’m sure Dina will be there. And Jesse. And literally everyone else.” Ellie was stretched out on the futon from across the room, caring less about the stupid winter dance.

You look at her then, a little dizzy and absolutely appalled that she wouldn’t want to go and watch people get drunk and dance to No Scrubs while high out of your minds.

She was never the type for large happy gatherings, but you figured she would go if she got to sit and watch for entertainment.

“Not everyone.” you whispered to yourself with a quick raise of your eyebrow before glancing at your hands quick enough to avoid Ellie's eyes that were suddenly boring into you.

Ellie sat up; the joint now glued to her lips.

“It’s a fuckin’ winter dance. In the Church. C’mon, how fun could it really be?”

You look up. Seeing how her eyes never left your face. Like you were meeting her there, through a dirty window with the reflection of her hazily standing beside you. A window that hasn't been buffed out yet, just a little foggy. Just a little.

“Well, it would be more fun if you went with me. Please. Just for an hour? Then we can come back here and do whatever you wanna do. Even if it's just sitting around. And you can draw me… if you want to.” you added the last part in a hushed tone, like the words were timid to come out.

But you had been secretly hoping she would since you got here.

You loved watching her draw, her fingers tracing over the paper so gently, like it was skin. Almost like it was yours. You wished it was… sometimes.

She looked away from you, drawing in another drag before she rested her elbows on her knees, legs spread wide.

Ellie had been wanting to draw you since the day you got here. The shape of your hips and the slope of your neck had haunted her pages for months. Erasing and sketching them again and again from memory. She wouldn’t let the opportunity pass her up and spit her out.

She sighed, trying to gauge if you had really meant it. Your tell wasn’t working since you were already beat red from just offering yourself up.

“Fine. Let’s just do it now, while we have time to spare.” was what she said instead, swallowing back her excitement and clearing her throat.

Ellie reaches over to you, handing you the joint and gently flexes her hand in your direction to tell you to finish it.

There wasn’t much left, maybe a little more than a roach. You took it from her a little eagerly, wanting the smoke to smooth your lungs and the quickend beat in your chest caused by Ellie’s hand grazing yours.

It didn’t take very long or much for you to feel it. You were such a lightweight.

Ellie of course found it hilarious when she realized. Catching on and laughing at you from across the room when you started giggling at the word “Infectious.”

Maria had said your laugh was “infectious” in the stables and considering the circumstances, it was true. Only, this time Ellie wasn’t immune to it. She had followed suit and ducked her head over her shoulder away from you to collect herself while shimmer groaned in relief.

“It’s just so—“ you cut yourself off, burying your face in your knees while sitting on the floor against the side of Ellie’s bed frame.

The distance was necessary since you had only met a few days prior.

Ellie looked up at you, with her brows pulled together in confusion before she put two and two together.

“Wait. Are you high?” she asked with a chuckle.

The room was clouded with a thin layer of smoke, barely enough to be able to see to the naked eye.

Your eyes had shot open wide, terrified.

“You are! Holy shit, this is good.” her voice carved the words into you then, the goosebumps running through your legs until they reached your core and exploded there with millions of needles with nowhere to go. You were soaked.

Ellie hadn’t laughed that hard in a minute, with her hand flat on her stomach to try and help the coiling feeling deep in her stomach.

“That’s fucking hilarious.” she murmured, her head falling back against the futon before taking a hit so big her cheeks had funneled in.

“Shut up.”

You were bright red with embarrassment and Ellie couldn’t look you in the eye without the image burning into her mind for the next week.

You think back on it now and what took place only a few hours before, letting a dry chuckle fall from your lips and echo into the quiet of the room.

Ellie’s still for a moment, but then joins in and laughs hard enough for her body to jolt with each exhale.

“What?” her tell floats to the surface immediately as she wipes the bow above her lip nervously.

“Do… do you remember that one time–” You stifle back a small laugh with your hand, slightly doubled over in the chair and your other flat against the coffee table for support.

“What?” she asks again, an unsteady smile creeping its way in.

“When… when we were– I can’t!” you confess, letting out a burst of laughter and slowly sliding down onto the floor.

“What?!” Ellie exclaims, a laugh finally falling from her lips while her hands tense out in front of her.

“When we were in the stab… stables. And I met Shimmer? And then I was petting her ears and all of this sudden, she rips absolute ass! Do you remember that?!” you let out a laugh, deeper from within your stomach causing you to hold onto it with both hands as the giggles ate you alive.

Ellie lets the smile on her face break, and then after hearing you kick your feet against the floor she erupts too, leaning over a bit to join in.

“You got so scared!” she exclaims, which only sends you further into a fit of laughter, breathing heavily for a few seconds and then starting right back up again.

“It was… It was so loud! An– and long?!?”

Ellie eventually joins you on the floor, laughing hard enough to where a vein is popping from her neck, just noticeable enough to where if you reached your hand out to touch it, you could even feel her pulse.

She looks over at you, seeing your eyes pinched shut and your smile wider than she’s ever seen it before. It was incredible.

As your laughter subsides, your eyes find their way to Ellie’s. Watching you, of course.

“Oh,” you say with the smallest giggle attached, then letting it fall away to join the burning embers that lifted the hair off your skin.

She smiled at you, fully now with no hesitation. “Can I draw you?” she asked, not looking away once. Her voice became a little rusted, and it chipped on its way out of her throat like a stone on pavement.

You fought the urge to crack. “Sure.” you said instead, and looked away from her quickly just to pull your eyes back to her slightly parted lips.

Ellie’s smile faltered a moment, resting on her side next to you. She didn't want to get up. She wanted to keep this image of you alive inside her head for the rest of her life. She wanted to keep you forever. Obviously she knew she couldn’t. She’d fuck it up sooner or later.

“What?” you ask, gaping at her with so much love plastered on your cheeks it almost looked fake. Too saturated. Too real. Ellie had the urge to swipe the pad of her thumb across it just to see if it would smudge. She knew it wouldn’t. She just wanted an excuse.

Instead, Ellie glanced away –finally– and lifted a hand to the right side of your face, tucking a single strand of hair behind your ear gently. You froze.

“Just um, put this right here.” she whispered.

Her eyes were glued on yours. The beautiful emerald that made your heart freeze in time just jumped into a millions beats per minute with the touch of her hand alone.

Ellie’s hand was still hovering over your jaw, like she was afraid you would fade away if she let you go.

But she had to. She knew that, some part of her had to know that.

Her hand fell back at her side, and Ellie cleared her throat one more time.

“Um, stay just stay how you are. I’ll draw you just like this, yeah?” you were too stunned to speak, so you nodded once and swallowed back the butterflies that had just burst in your stomach.

“Okay.” you could hear the smile in her voice as she got up on her feet in one quick motion, leaving you to stare mindlessly at the door.

You felt like you were posing naked for her somehow, like she had stripped you clean and she would be basing her art off of you. You hated how self conscious you suddenly felt, but selfishly you loved how excited she got.

And just like that, you're burning up again, your cheeks catch the flint and light is bursting from beneath your skin.

You smother it. You act calm, and cool, and not like you are the horniest you've ever been around someone you could never have.

You don’t move a muscle when Ellie sets down pads of paper, jars of brushes, ink, parchment paper, water color, and charcoal all within a minute or two and is sitting down next to you again.

She put her hands to her mouth, unable to keep her excitement hidden. “Okay. Um. Just, uh, yeah just stay exactly how you are. Try not to move. Or laugh.” you can’t help but let the smirk sink into your face before playfully scoffing under your breath.

You followed her instructions word for word. You didn’t move. No matter how badly you had to pee. You wouldn’t move until she was done.

And so far, it felt like you had been posing for what felt like 2 hours based on how many pieces of paper Ellie had already used, and the fact that the water was completely dark with no more room for ink. Or that her fingers were coated in charcoal and it had smudged on her face as she tried relentlessly to keep the stray hair behind her ear.

But you watched her. You watched her hands dance across the paper like skin. Your skin. –on paper anyway– You noticed her tongue dipping in and out of her mouth as she concentrated on capturing the curve of your arm and the texture of your jeans that made you want to crawl out of them.

Ellie couldn't get the images of you on paper fast enough. There were so many. She had to get it absolutely perfect: the slope of your nose, your crooked hairline caused from laying on your side, the delicacy of your fingers as they rested on the curve of your hip. She had to get all of them out right now or else she would have to keep memorizing and sketching and staring.

Secretly, she wanted to keep a few for herself too. To remind herself that you were real, and that she had you at one point. Ellie only had so much ink and charcoal left, but she didn’t care, she would use it all. She would draw you a million times if it meant you would look at her like this just one more time. She would do anything… anything for you. If she just had the chance, she’d take it. Instead of running away to catch the lungs that were sprinting away from her.

But she would try, with all the power and love she's ever had. She would give it all to you, and you wouldn’t even have to ask. Ellie would give it up willingly, she would beg you to take it from her and say “I don't know what to do with it.”

“Hm?” you ask from your position on the floor. “Do with what?” and her eyes flickered towards you.

She forgot you were really there. That you weren’t another dream. That you could see her.

Ellie cleared her throat and her voice broke when she spoke again.

“Um, the drawing. It’s done. I don’t know what to do with it.” she looked at you one last time before you shot up from the floor and sat next to her.

“Can I see it?!” you said, cheery like a child who had just had their picture taken in a cardboard cutout stand.

“Yeah.”

Ellie turned the pad over to you, and just when she thought she hated it you covered your mouth with both hands and let in a sharp inhale.

You were quiet for a moment, and Ellie was still a little worried you saw right through her until you turned to look at her with tears pooling in your eyes.

“Oh, Ellie. Holy shit. This is the best one yet.”

She let herself feel a little proud then, a smile fighting its way onto her face once again. She never knew why she was always fighting it, it would happen nearly every single time.

“That’s just because I made you look so good.” and she nudged you a little.

“Shut the fuck up, I’m serious. It’s beautiful Els.” and you turned away to look back at the drawing before blinking away the tears in your eyes.

There’s a moment there, where the two of you are staring at… you. “No one’s ever drawn me before. It's weird looking at myself like this.” and you then felt Ellie’s eyes burn the side of your face, begging for you to look at her.

You tilt your head slightly, not stripping your eyes away from the page until the very last second.

Ellie was blushing. She was fucking blushing.

She looked away the second your eyes had found hers.

“Here, you can have it.” and she folded the page into your hand and held it there for a beat.

A beat too long.

The glass was clearing up, the fog dissipating into thin air at lightning speed.

You cleared your throat in hopes to silently slice the tension that was building around the two of you.

“Thanks.” you let your eyes fall to your lap. “We should uh, probably get ready.”

Ellie looks away again, patting her thighs as she exhales swiftly. “Yeah. Yeah, let's do it.”

“Come on, I don’t wanna be the last one there! It’s already started.”

You leaned against the doorframe of the bathroom, actually watching Ellie fix her hair. It was pulled back into a low bun, and the layered pieces kept falling forward, not wanting to swoop back with the rest of it.

“I just, I can’t get this fucking— oh, god dammit!” she exclaimed, letting her hands fly out at her sides and grip the edge of the bathroom counter to take a breath.

“Here, let me help you.”

You took a step off the frame, pulling a pin from your hair and gently stepping up to Ellie to slide the pin into place. You must have accidentally got her scalp because she squeezed one eye shut and let a small wince escape her lips.

“Sorry.” you said, and tapped the pin to make sure it was snug.

You felt Ellie’s eyes on you from the reflection of the mirror. Of course. They were burning into you like the reflection of a magnifying glass.

Ellie’s hands grip harder on the countertop, watching your delicate fingers play with the pin. Collecting strands of her hair and then gently sweeping them behind it as gently as she can so as not to poke you again.

“Thanks.” she says instead, and lets go of the counter with a gentle push. Her hands have a red mark from her grip that when she flexes her hands, she feels her skin pull with resistance.

“Yeah.” you look away, even though you feel the warmth radiating off of her. Sending something through you.

“Okay. Let's go before we’re stuck outside. I heard they are checking for ID." There's a joke somewhere in her voice, but it gets buried by the sudden feeling of your hand twisted in yours.

“Ellie, your hand is freezing.” you say, entirely missing the joke she was trying to make and placing your other hand around hers.

She looked down to see her hand barely covered by both of yours, and she lets the feeling of your skin melt into hers like molten lava.

She was always lighting you on fire. Now, you were warming her up, meeting her halfway.

The dance was better than Ellie had expected. The room was full of people in cowboy boots and actually square dancing. Not just in the movies like she thought.

And you were smiling from ear to ear, happy to see so many people laughing and having fun while they still could. So of course Ellie was happy to be there. She fucking lived to see you smile like you were right now.

“I’m gonna get a drink, do you want anything?” Ellie said against your neck, yelling over the music.

“No! I’m gonna dance.” and she nodded, eager to let go of your hand. She didn’t want to lose you in the crowd. She didn’t want to lose you, period. But of course, she would eventually.

Your hand fell from hers as you made your way into the line dance, knocking your feet back and forth on its heel and toe while clapping your hands along to the music that was actually ‘not that bad’.

Ellie’s standing at the bar, a drink in her hand with no intention of actually drinking it. She wasn’t that big a drinker, but she wanted to keep herself busy while trying so hard not to stare at you from across the room.

It wasn't working, obviously.

She was actually glad she came, because she had never seen you this… bright. You were floating across the dancefloor like some kind of angel. She couldn’t place you. Not here anyway. You looked so out of place, with your smile wide and cheeks completely beet red from dancing, it's like you were more saturated than everyone else, like you were literally glowing.

She snaps out of it when she sees you heading over to her, a smile plastered on your face and sweat beading just above your top lip.

“Oh jeez, they weren’t kidding.” you say to her, out of breath and laughing a little.

“Who?” she asks.

“Tommy and Maria. When we were all putting the flyers up they said it would definitely be an owl here.” and you couldn’t keep it together, laughing into your hand and leaning forward into Ellie’s shoulder.

“That… was terrible.” she smirks.

She loved it.

You pull back, flexing your hands out wide at your sides before letting out a short exhale. “No, but seriously. You guys might not party very often, but when you do it gets crazy. I was drowning out there!”

“You seemed to be doing fine to me.” Ellie offered up. She was flushed.

“Oh yeah? You try going out there. It’s not as easy as it looks.” and you tilted your head playfully, emphasizing your point.

She looked down at her glass then, breaking away quick enough to avoid your eyes.

“That’s what I thought. Now, where is the bathroom?”

And Ellie took the smallest sip from her glass just before pointing to her right and bending her wrist the same direction. “Through the doors and on the right.”

You smiled at her, touching her arm with clammy hands. “Hey, dance with me when I come back?” your grasp on her was slipping away, waiting for her answer before letting go completely.

“Yeah. Sure.”

You beamed, completely unable to hide it this time. You thought you maybe didn’t have to, that you would maybe… finally… be able to clean this goddamn window for good.

You call out to her before disappearing, “Oh hey, you were right! Dina’s here!”

The second Ellie registers what you said, suddenly Dina has appeared into thin air and is dancing with someone a few feet away.

And again, a few moments later, Jesse appears from your left, a matching glass in his hand.

“She’s uh… putting on quite the show.” he says, and it's then that she looks up at her, watching as she gets dipped and the music fades out.

“I give you guys two weeks until you're back together.” and she chuckles.

“Not gonna happen.”

She looks away from him briefly, glancing into her drink that’s gone warm.

“She uh, say something to you?” Jesse asks before looking at her again.

“Make it one week.”

While Ellie’s attention is turned towards Jesse, just then Dina comes over and draws it back toward her.

“Ellie, hey!”

Jesse adjusts his posture, standing taller. It’s so obvious he wants her back.

Dina takes the drink from your hand, shooting it back and placing it on the bar behind you with a thud.

“Dina.” he says, lifting his glass, almost like he was offering it up to her.

“Jesse.” is all she says instead, eyeing him slowly.

“C’mon,” she says, and grabs Ellie’s hand.

“Wait, I was gonna–” but it's no use, because Jesse is talking over you from the bar.

“Hey! Don’t forget we're headin’ out early, so get some rest!” and before Ellie can even look back at him all the way, Dina is already talking again.

“Yes sir.”

Ellie is looking down at her feet, trying not to trip over them as Dina continues to pull her farther into the crowd of people.

“You're such a dick.” she murmured.

Dina’s hands fell easily on her shoulders moments after she placed Ellie’s on her waist.

Just then, you came out from the bathroom trying to pick through the crowd to find her, seeing the empty glass and missing spot from the bar.

You make your way over to Jesse, who you were kind of surprised to see there since he wasn’t much of a partier.

You go to ask where Ellie went, if she had somehow missed her walking into the bathroom… but the words die in your throat when you see her smack dead in the middle of the floor, with Dina rubbing her cheek against Ellie’s and a sly smile on her face.

“I hate these things.” Jesse said.

You glance over at him, noticing he was watching Ellie and Dina too.

“Tell me about it.” you say, looking back at Dina.

She has her arm wrapped around Ellie’s neck, a single hand pulling the same strand of hair that has been falling out of place all day.

The same one you pinned. The same girl who had drawn you just 2 hours ago.

The same girl… that was kissing Dina.

She… she kissed her.

Your windows shattered, shards falling to the floor like needles and with the heartbeat that had been run over and sliced clean in half.

You feel yourself wince at the sight, and before you think twice, you're up from the bar and leave through the back.

You fucking blew it.

Ellie’s hands were stuffed deep inside her pockets, walking around Jackson like a lost puppy.

She hadn’t seen you since the dance. Which to you both felt like a lot longer.

She looked for you afterward, apologizing to Dina before pulling away from her to ask if anyone had seen where you went, if anyone saw you leave with Jesse and wondering what the fuck just happened.

When you got home, the second you closed the door behind you you couldn't help but let the hot tears stream down your frosted cheeks.

You had tried so hard, so hard to let Ellie see how much of her you liked, and completely obvious you made it seem.

You posed for her. Not naked, but the act still made you think it was worth something. So much so that when you pulled her drawing from your backpocket, slightly smudged from dancing all night and when you had pulled it out on your way home contemplating throwing it away.

You shoved it under your pillow instead, climbing in bed shortly after and rocking yourself to sleep and trying to get the image of Ellie’s lips out of your mind.

Ellie showed up the next morning, knocking on your locked bedroom door.

It had scared her, how raw her voice sounded, and how at the same time it had never sounded softer than when she said “Hey, you in there?”

And when you didn’t reply, you could hear her let out a small sigh before stepping away from the door.

You pulled your covers tight over your head and shut your eyes tight with regret.

Eventually, you realized you had to get up to go to work. It was cold out, but luckily you had gotten to work in the greenhouse since it was a low leveled job and you enjoyed it. Plus the warmth helped too.

The greenhouse door was cracked open by a hair, a dead giveaway you were inside. You still never figured out how to latch it all the way closed, and it seemed to get heavier each time you went to move it.

Ellie pulled her lip to the side, nibbling nervously on the inside of her cheek. She felt so fucking stupid, letting Dina kiss her like that. Letting her dance with her. She was such a fuck up, as per usual.

She was walking around aimlessly, bored, and confused.

She didn't know what to do without you. It was so routine with the two of you.

You would meet Ellie at the stables after her patrol shift was over (which was usually in the mornings) and then you would hang out together at hers. And she would usually find you in the dining hall or the library if you were scheduled there.

But since the dance, she hadn’t known where you were, and it's like she had never been to this version of Jackson without you in it.

She had, years ago, but she could never remember what it was really like. Almost as if it didn’t really exist without you.

And just as she was about to head home, with the sun barely peeking out from behind the clouds, she spotted the multiple greenhouses. With one in particular that had a light striking a clear view of you inside.

Ellie pulled her hands from her pockets, a close lipped smile breaking on her face instantly.

She nudged the door with her body and her head barely visible to you from the other side.

But you felt her there. You didn’t know how, but you could tell she was standing outside the door before you saw her.

“Holy shit it's warm in here. Now I see why you always pick this over patrol.” and she watched as you plucked leaves from the tarragon plant.

“What are you doing?” you asked, not looking at her.

Your hands started to shake mildly, and you tried not to give into her eyes that burned a hole in your heart.

“Looking for you. I Thought I’d find you here.” she said, closing the door all the way (of course she'd be able to) and fumbled with her hands, a little nervous.

“I’m almost done here. I just need to take these clippings and a few other things.” your hands carry a tremble now, and Ellie can see it.

She takes a step closer to you, and it's unavoidable not to look at her now.

“Can we talk about last night?” Ellie asks with her hand flat against the workbench and her brows are pulled together in a frown.

“There's nothing to talk about. I just… I wanted to go home. I didn’t wanna bother you and Dina. you seemed like you were having fun.” as you tied the twine around the clippings, Ellie's hand covered yours on an exploded scale.

You turn your head, looking at her and seeing right through her.

“C’mon. Don’t be like that. Dina… was just being Dina. She didn’t mean anything by it.” Ellie's thumb started to form small circles on your skin, drawing you in, inch by inch.

Ellie took a small step toward you, her other hand reaching up and cooling the burning of your neck.

She leaned in toward you, and her lips grazed yours before kissing you softly. It was wrong, it was so so wrong.

You closed your eyes and a single tear rolled down your cheek fast enough to transfer to Ellie’s.

You pull your hand back from hers, taking a complete step backward and trying to conceal the tears that wanted to run down your cheeks freely.

“Do you like me, Ellie?”

The words had shocked the look off her face, only for her to reposition her brows into a confused glare.

“What?”

“Do you like me.” and there is a quiver in your voice. Her figure becomes blurry, but before she disappears completely you tilt your head and wipe your tears on the sleeve of your shirt.

“I– Yeah. Yeah, I like you. Why would I kiss you if I didn’t like you?”

“Why would Dina?”

Her head drops down between her shoulders as she sighed. She didn’t know. She didn’t. But she knew that she would rather freeze to death than lose you, she knew that much.

She pulled her lips between her teeth “I– I don’t know. I- She- Dina kissed me, okay? And she asked me to dance. I didnt– I wanted to dance with you, I wanted to…” she couldn’t say it.

“What?”

“I wanted to kiss you, alright. I wanted to even before then. Before the dance or before the stables. From the moment you got here I knew. I just didn’t know. I do now, I swear.”

You didn’t know what to say. You wanted to say everything, anything. Your lips were sealed with hot tears streaming down your face.

“Can you say something?” Her voice is merely a whisper like a jagged piece of ice dragging across your skin just light enough to form goosebumps.

You pinch your eyes shut and let your hands shakily wipe the salt water from your face.

“I– I… Ellie. I don’t know what I’m supposed to say, this…”

She takes a small step toward you, grabbing a hold of your wrists gently enough for your back to meet the opposite wall of the greenhouse and boxing you in around the floor to ceiling plants that were on either side of you.

“Just, say something, please.” Ellie gave your wrists a little shake, freeing them from your face.

She looked worried now, and the thought of her thinking you didn’t like her sent a strike of sadness through you.

You move your hands fully away from your face and let them fall at your sides, lacing your fingers with Ellie’s slowly. She’s looking down at them, and swinging them softly from side to side.

“I… I liked you too. From the beginning I mean. In the dining hall when you sat next to me. I liked you then, I still do.” you confessed.

You felt the fire in your cheeks and you couldn’t meet Ellie’s eyes and you made way with her chest.

She leaned down an inch to place her forehead together with yours. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

You let out a breath, a scoff even. “I tried! I was trying this entire time. And plus, you just said you realized you liked me. I wasn’t sure.”

Her words rang through you. You shook with anticipation.

“Is that why you left last night? Because you were jealous?” and Ellie’s voice rose to a mocking tone, tugging on your hands in a playful manner.

“Shut up. I was not.” and you look away, the smile bolted across your face proudly.

“You were! Say it, say it please! Tell me how jealous you were. C’mon, tell me tell me tell me!”

And it's then that you smash your lips against Ellie’s to meet her halfway with just the very tip of your toes.

Her lips were warm with lust, her hands breaking from yours to find the soft spots behind your ears with a swipe. Ellie exhaled into your mouth immediately and your head met the back wall of the greenhouse with a soft thud.

Her tongue swiped against your bottom lip, begging for entrance that was obviously unnecessary by how quickly you parted your lips for her. She rubbed slow circles over your jaw, and soon enough her hand was traveling down the curve of your hip and squeezing there. Just enough to express a moan from you.

Ellie smirked against your lips, drawing back for a breath before kissing you harder now, not hesitating or double checking for dominance. You were absolutely floored.

Your shirt had ridden up just mere inches, and her hand was met with the small piece of bare flesh there, causing you to let in a sharp inhale through your nose.

Both of Ellie’s hands are playing with the button of your jeans, fighting to get them undone and pulled down just below your pulsing cunt.

Once her hand finally finds the band of your underwear, it's over. You were already completely unfolding right in front of her.

Your mouth falls open, and a moan slips from your lips, a little louder now as you arch your back to be flush with Ellie. She bends back the band of elastic, traveling down to reach the very top of your pussy she can already feel how wet you are for her.

Just then, both of your hands fly to grip her inked forearm. A silent warning.

“Your hand… ‘s cold.” is all you can make out.

Ellie pulls back to take a look at you. You're absolutely flushed. “D’you want me to stop?” It was genuine. She wanted this to be perfect for you. She wanted to get it right.

“I– I want to keep going, but I-” and Ellie uncoiled her hand from beneath your pants to rest it on your hip.

“I don’t want you to do anything you aren’t ready for.” she let her arms straighten against you, waiting for you to reply.

“I’m ready. Really. I just don’t really wanna… do it here. It’s kinda dirty. And also probably illegal. And I really do have to take that stuff in.”

Ellie smiled. “You’re cute. Why don’t we take them together, and then, if you want, we can go hang out at mine?”

You looked at her with a tight lipped grin. “Yeah. I’d like that.”

#it’s cold here without you #ellie williams #ellie tlou2 #ellie williams x reader #the last of us #ellie williams smut #tlou2 #the last of us smut #ellie tlou #ellie williams x reader smut #tlou #ellie williams x y/n #ellie x reader #ellie williams x you #bellswlw

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fanaticsnail · 7 months

Text

Despiértame mi Corazon

Masterlist Here

Word Count: 3,454

(Image Source: Actor: Alex Pettyfer + @fanaticsnail's dodgy photo editing skills)

Synopsis: You have been on the run from Donquixote Doflamingo, sheltering and caring for a young, sick child. Your emotions catch up with you as you process the change your life has led you to. You’ve left it all: family, career, friends - all to support Rosinante in his quest to cure the boy. Upon seeing you in this state, your Corazon will do anything to see you smile again.

Themes: mutual pining, sickness, love, Rosi is a daddy, Rosi is a sweetheart, idiots in love, friends to lovers, Trafalgar Law is a child, baby Law is an edge-lord, angst, crying, hurt/comfort, dancing, Rosi is a dork, sad ending (I’m sorry), Dance reference link here.

Notes: This is a gift for @writingmysanity. You get two Cora fics, because we both need it. The other, more happy one, is coming soon, sweety!!

Tag List: @sordidmusings @since-im-already-here @feral-artistry @gingernut1314 @cinnbar-bun @vespidphoenix @i-am-vita @sexc-snail I don't know if you guys like Corazon, but I hope this convinces you to love him.

Song Suggestion: “Wake Me Up” - Postmodern JukeBox

The air carrying the tide towards your feet felt as thick and heavy as the encumbering weight on your heart. Frozen remnants of falling snow stuck to your cheeks, your eyelashes collecting a small amount of dust to coat your follicles in the crisp breeze. Aside from the peace found in momentary stasis, your mind was racing and your soul screaming for release.

Trafalgar D Water-Law was dying. The boy you took under your wing, the child you cared for, the adolescent who held your heart in his hands was dying. He was not going to make it without consuming the Op-Op Fruit, a cruel reality that had finally caught up with you.

You were so close. So unbelievably close to getting his cure - his fate balancing on the edge of a knife in the steely grasp of Donquixote Doflamingo. A cure like this was not something that would be gifted freely, both you and Rosinante knew this for a fact. There was no amount of convincing, scheming, bribing, groveling, or begging you could do to gather this cure for the sickly child you both loved. It needed to be claimed by force, and claimed now.

Finding solace in the small moment you carved aside, you allowed yourself the luxury of hot tears rolling down your cheeks: consumed by the grief in the dire situation you found yourself within. You were simply unable to carry the weight of these harsh and raw emotions any longer. What began as a small sniff through your nose quickly and quietly escalated into soft sobs. As the sorrow was released, you felt the weight grow heavier in your heart and expand to encumber your chest.

Drawing up your knees and cradling them against you, you turned your head away from the shack as your shoulders shook with each whimpered sob. You desperately hoped to any deity that was listening that you were far enough away from your home for the night to hold your sobs in silence, not alerting or disturbing your two companions as they lay in slumber.

Stalking slowly towards you, aided in silence by his devil-fruit abilities, Donquixote Rosinante was approaching you in your sorrow. His hand stuttered forward, wanting desperately to place it down on your shoulder and give it a gentle squeeze in consoling your release of your emotions.

He, himself, knew this feeling, and he knew this feeling well. Giving into his feelings a few weeks earlier, while drinking a vast amount of sake straight from the bottle. He felt helpless in the overwhelming devastation that currently held the three of you hostage. Desperate to provide you comfort, although not desiring to give you a touch you were not expecting, he halted his movement from descending upon your shoulders.

Retracting his extended hand away from you, he stumbled backwards towards the shack to check in on the sleeping Trafalgar Law. Clambering up the steps, he looked over the peaceful form of the boy nestled up in his blankets to keep warm in the cool night. Noticing the fluttering rise and fall in his chest, the subtle wheeze extending and catching in his throat, he felt the return of helplessness overcome his body.

Turning away from the child, his fingers absentmindedly brushed against the surface of the steely frame of his radio, flicking on the valve to wake its static call. He began turning the knobs, seeking out a whisper of a song to drown out his circulating devastation and distract himself with.

The rustling static did nothing to wake Law from his rest, but did alert you of the fact Rosinante was awake and skulking around. Hastily drying your tears with the inner sleeve on your wrist, you ensured you were the very picture of positivity should the leader of your expedition join you in the cool air outside the shack.

Your relationship with the younger Donquixote brother was complicated.

Pledging your undying loyalty under pain or death to Doflamingo in your youth, your proximity to the younger brother had you develop the swell of infatuation with him. Through the years, your heart always had a soft simmer threatening to rapidly boil towards the surface. He was quiet, he was calm, his skills as a fighter were a privilege to behold in battle, and it was an honor to fight beside him.

Under the orders of the older Donquixote brother, you had done terrible things that required atonement to cleanse your hands of it. As you were both introduced to the young child who wished for death to claim him, you both became as hardened as the other to force the will to live upon him in repentance for your transgressions.

Watching Rosinante take the lead in Law’s care, your infatuation rose once again: a rise which prompted you to cast aside your loyalty to Doflamingo and aid ‘Corazon’ in the task of betraying him. You were in exile, hiding while searching for a cure for the boy that you only now learnt were in the clutches of the very hands you were attempting to flee from.

You loved him. You loved watching the lanky man fawning over the sickly boy. It had your heart soar and fly ever higher. The way he loved with his whole heart had a ripple effect, prompting you to open your own heart to love both of them even more. When Rosinante displayed his heart, it was worn on his sleeve and given unconditionally. And when you saw this love for others, it made you long to be a recipient of such devotion.

The rise in static volume prompted you to turn around, glancing at the looming figure exiting the door of the shack, a radio within his hands. He placed it on the wooden frame lining the porch and gestured for you to come over to him with a subtle sway of his hands. You offered him a soft, melancholy smile and rose to your feet from the cool sand beneath you.

No words were spoken as you approached him, keeping your head bowed from him as the static crackled and roared to life. A familiar tune from your youth rose in the speakers, your smile broadening as the lyrics shepherded you into a gentle sway.

Rosinante’s outstretched hand flitted fluidly down to you, a small bob in his head indicating for you to place your hand within his own. You returned this gesture with your eyes closed and shaking your head in disbelief at his invitation. He smiled, reaching forward his other hand down and claiming your unoccupied hand and began swaying you to the beat.

“What are you doing, Rosinante?” you slowly hummed your question up at him, brow twitching up in intrigue. His warm smile pulled you in, alongside the slow shimmied-shake of his arms with your own.

“We’re dancing,” he confessed with a rumbled chuckle, his toes accidentally colliding with your own: both flinching at the contact. He shook his head, adding to his answer, “I stand corrected: we’re trying.”

Although the mood was filled with sorrow, the sway of Rosinante’s awkward movements had your smile rising up your cheeks and eyes drying of their prior downpour. A small swell in your heart at his attempt to make you smile had your cheeks begin to pull upwards by the smallest smile you could muster.

Everything about the way he danced with you was stiff, awkward and rigid: a memory rising in both your minds of earlier in your youth springing forward.

“You remember when we first danced together?” Rosinante asked you, his painted lips attempting to hold back a toothy grin. You giggled at him, ushering his body to spin in your arms and gently twirled his body. The dark feathers tickled your skin, a sneeze rising in your nose in response to the subtle brush from the inky follicles.

“I remember it being about as ah-... ah-... ahh-...!” you sneezed, shaking your shoulders as you turned away from him to save him from the spray. He chuckled as you recovered from your sneeze, continuing, “-As awkward as this one. You didn’t have your feather coat then, either.”

“Oh, right!” Rosinante laughed, twirling his body away from yours and removing his feathered overcoat from its place on his shoulders, casting it over the wooden frame beside the speaker. “Alright now, where were we?” His pink shirt dipped in his chest, the subtle rise of his lungs and exposure of soft skin tempted a warm flush to rise in your cheeks. You shook your head to rid yourself of such thoughts about your friend, recovering enough to plaster a small smile on your face.

Swaying your hips and tapping your toes against the ground, you skillfully twirled your body to rejoin your hands within his. He gleefully laughed at your gesture, his own hips swaying to the beat and rocking his shoulders as the rhythm picked up. His knees were unpracticed and unskilled in this artform, but his enthusiasm overtook his inability to dance.

Twirling his body away from you, he clapped his hands and began stomping his feet lightly on the floorboards. He tapped twice more before kneeling himself down on one knee, his other leg arched into a deep lunge in front of him. He placed his right hand on his hip, rising his left above his head and brandished it with a playful flourish.

“Oh, we’re doing this one, are we?” your tone picked up, your brow arching on your forehead as you leant forward to claim his left hand within your right, “You remember how I tripped over your lanky legs when I did this last time,” you smiled, circling his body and hopping yourself over his calf lying flat behind him.

“I do,” he chuckled in return, following your movement with the lull of his head. His smile rose further as you playfully watched him from the corner of your eye. “You remember how we recovered, though? What we did to balance out the dance?”

“Yes, Corazon,” you half-laughed, half-sighed, as you recalled how the evening progressed, “We drowned ourselves in several bottles of sake and laughed at our own idiocy.” Rosinante shook his head, rising to his feet after releasing your hand from within his.

“No, mi amor,” he whispered, placing his hands on your hips and swaying you from behind, “I meant this.” He turned you within his arms, raking his hands over your hips, hands circling over your waist and holding you firmly against his torso. You hooked your arms over his shoulders behind your head, shepherding him to embrace you further while swaying to the rhythm.

Rosinante pressed his cheek against your own, your eyes instinctively fluttering closed as you felt the rise in his grin on your skin. His breath tickled the nape of your neck, you breathing along to his rhythmic pattern with each passing moment.

You felt all of your worries cast themselves aside each moment he held you in his arms, all anguish and melancholy passing from your body and reigned within his embrace. The pressure of his own sorrows fled from him and onto you, the sharing of the emotional labor departed each of you in this moment to simmer and smother between you.

“Why were we dancing again?” you whispered to him, your lips almost making contact with the shell of his ear. You felt him shudder against your touch, instinctively pressing your back further against his chest and nuzzling into your neck.

Spinning in his arms, his hands tugging at your shifting shirt as you turned to face him, his eyes widened as he sought out his answer to you. Humming thoughtfully, he finally located his answer in his memory.

“I think it was Doffy’s birthday, or celebrating a raid on some unfortunate-,” Rosinante began, halted by you pulling away and glancing into his eyes.

“-I mean now, mi corazon,” you floated your eyes between his, looking for rhyme or reason within his steely orbs, “Why are we dancing now?” He stuttered in his sway, freezing like a fainting goat being startled by a loud sound.

“Y-You called me-...” his breath caught in his throat, lips parting as he floated his gaze between your own eyes, briefly caught in gazing longingly against your lips. “You called me ‘mi corazon’, mi amor.” He held you in silence, his heart swelling and adrenaline urging his body against his will to surge forward.

The air was tense, the deafening silence being broken only by the smooth rise in melody from the radio beside you. His eyes softened more, wordlessly asking you a question with his lips quivering and eyes frantically darting between your own.

A small nod from him, answered by a nod of your own was all the answer he needed to join his lips with yours, softly molding himself to your lips and breathing in your air.

The world came crashing down around you, the realms of unanswered questions from your youth were retorted by the soft lips of Donquixote Rosinante’s pressed against your own. You squeaked against his lips, eyes wide and watching as, his were closed with his brows furrowing in deepest concentration. He hissed in a breath through his nose, turning his head by the angle of his chin to deepen the embrace.

Raking his hands up from your hips, he claimed fistfuls of your shirt in his needy grasp. He whimpered against your lips, prompting you to reciprocate his passionate kiss. You felt his heart, his spirit and his worries pass from his body into yours further. This intimate and wordless confession had your heart racing at the impossibilities that brought you here.

Slowly pulling your hands from his shoulders, you slid them down his neck and grasped the embroidered pink collar of his shirt and pushed him back towards the railing. As his beck hit the hard, wooden pillar, he gasped into your mouth and desperately clawed at you to hold you firmer. Angling his head away, he pressed lengthy kiss after kiss against your lips, cheeks and chin: a trail marked by his pink lip-paint.

“I want you,” he whispered against your lips, hovering them above your own before pressing his own against yours twice more, “I want us. I want all of us-.” He peppered your cheeks with lengthy kisses, the smear of his lip paint rubbing against your skin and tinting your flesh. “-The three of us. I want to be our own family: go where we want to go, wherever our hearts take us. I want to forge a life with you and that kid.”

“What are you saying-?” you whimpered for him, your hands claiming his cheeks within them and ushering his face away from yours. He groaned, leaning forward and claiming your lips beneath his own before fully allowing you to push him away.

“I want to adopt Law,” he continued, his hand rising to your hair and caressing your scalp, “You already mother him, fawn over him and treat him like your own.” Your hand flew to his hair as he pressed a long kiss against your neck, “I want to do this, and I want to do this with you, mi amor. I want to marry you, to be yours and you to be mine.”

“I want us to be happy, mi amor,” he concluded, a melancholy smile finding his cheeks as he dipped his brow down to seek out your eyes, “I will have you smile again: a smile mirrored between the three of us.” He pressed a gentle kiss against your brow, adding a muffled, “Three against the world.”

The shock of it all happening at once held you in momentary silence. Feeling the pull to confess your own adoration and wants for the future onto him, your lips formed words before you could withhold them in your throat.

“When this nightmare is all over,” you gasped, tugging at his blond locks to subtly weave him away from your neck to look in your eyes. “When we wake up from the darkness,” you slowly caressed his cheek, your thumb finding his bottom lip and attempting to press the paint within the boundaries of his lip line, “I want all of that with you, mi corazon.”

At your confession, Donquixote Rosinante’s heart soared for you and his tears began to prick at the corners of his eyes. He truly didn’t know those words were needed to grace his ears and soothe his mind, but so thankful you formed them.

He loved you from the moment he met you all those years ago. The urge to protect you from the evil his brother ushered into the world was so strong, he nearly broke the mask he made while infiltrating the crew. Seeing you hold your own against them, your skill in combat ushering a swift death to those who opposed you with mercy had him swooning at your kindness amongst the brutality.

“Te amo, mi corazon,” you whispered, your lips again hovering over his own, “I always have, and I should’ve acted on it sooner. I just got caught up with the mission, with loving our child. You are doing such a good job with him, I want you to know that.” You soothed over his blond hair, brushing your nose against his while confessing your admiration further, “I love you, and I love Law so, so much-.”

Surging forwards, the contact he made with your lips was wet: the stale aftertaste of his last cigarette was eclipsed by the salty tears falling over his lips. He didn’t know when his tears started to fall, nor did you grasp when your own intertwined with his against your lips. You laughed against his lips, feeling the lingering tingle of affection spark and ignite in your chest. He swooned for you, raking desperately at your body to hold you as close as he could without breaking through the material of your clothes.

You broke away from his lips, gazing into his eyes with nothing but pure adoration and love. His own unspoken confession lingered in the air, the atmosphere tense and swollen with the lust-stricken adrenaline. The spark of the adoration tinting your eyes surged his confession forward, his words clumsily jumbled over his lips.

“Mi tesoro, mi amor, mi familia,” he whimpered for you, his voice stuttering and stumbling over his words as he stooped down to you, “Te amo-... I-I love you. I love everything about you, and I should’ve told you sooner. I wanted to tell you from the day I first met you. I swooned for you when you danced with me all those years ago. My heart beats for you, and propels me to complete this task all the sooner to start this adventure with you and Law.”

He pressed his forehead against your own, the feeling of hot tears rolling down his cheeks at the confession had you both sobbing and laughing at yourselves. Sniffling and collecting your own tears on your wrist, and he with his, you both glanced up at each other and allowed your smiles to rise.

“We will get this done, Donquixote Rosinante,” you hardened your resolve, nodding through every word, “And when it’s all over, we will be una familia- a family, mi corazon. The three of us. Together.” You held each other close on the deck of the small shack: swaying between kisses as the darkness plaguing your journey was eclipsed by the light rising between you.

Hanging on your every word, a small sob hitched at the crack in the door, Trafalgar Law’s hand clasping over his lips to mask his presence. Law had never witnessed so much love pouring from one person to another. The fact that you both held such love for him too had him openly sobbing at the interaction.

He wanted this too.

He wanted to be a family with both of you: two absolute idiots that loved both him and each other unconditionally. Two complete idiots who were hardened fighters, pirates, and war criminals. His idiots.

He wanted this so desperately.

He wants his imperfect, perfect family.

But some things were not meant to be.

Law would call on this memory often. Each time that melody played over his personal radio, his heart would both consequently swell and shatter as tears threatened to pour down his face. He wanted to wake up, for it to all be some horrific nightmare and still be searching with you and Cora-san for a cure for his illness. Your love was real, and he was thankful to play his part in it.

However small a time it was, it was his. His perfect, imperfect family.

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certifiedlovergirlsstuff · 6 months

Note

Can you write a fic where Ethan doesn’t want to be a Ghostface so he tells reader the truth and they warn the rest of the group then run away together

ethan hasn’t killed anyone (cause that would defeat the purpose of him not wanting to be gf) but this is after quinn and anika’s death. only convenient time for this conversation to take place. also i didn't add running away cause i feel it wouldn't make sense for reader to leave their friends behind durning all this, so maybe anon if you really want that i could possible do a follow up to them having a happy life.

gn!reader masterlist

“i- i have something to tell you.” ethan whispered in your ear, drawing your attention away from your anxious friends. you were gonna prompt him to tell you, but when you say the worry on his face you excused the both of you.

sliding into the bathroom with ethan on your heels, you sat on the edge of the tub while ethan leaned his weight against the door. “what’s wrong?” noting how ethan kept his eye to his feet, hands twisting below his stomach.

“what i’m about to tell you… just know i was forced to be apart of because of my family. things would have been worse if i- i just hope you can forgive me.” ethan finally looked up and at you. eyes soft and face open, waiting for something.

you shifted a little, worried whatever he says crosses your morals. “okay… but only if you actually tell me what it is.”

“okay,” he took a deep breath then said, “my family is ghostface.”

you froze, “i’m sorry, what?” keeping your voice composed, miraculously.

“my- my dad, sister and i. we’re related to richie, the guy sam killed in woodsboro last year. my dad is detective bailey and my sister is-“ “quinn.” putting those two pieces together.

you waved your hands around for a moment, “wait, so quinn didn’t die yesterday? only anika? then who was ghostface? were- were you the one who-“ “no! no, i wasn’t. it- it was my dad.”

ethan took two steps closer in his rush to correct you and you couldn’t hide the faint flinch it produced, but you saw his face fall. ethan noticed that you’ve become afraid of him. “my- my dad wanted it to be me, but i was enjoying my night and didn’t want to leave.”

that caused your heart to stutter, in the good developing a fat crush on a boy kind of way. you and ethan were having a study date at a diner two blocks from campus, and it seemed sweet when he phrased it that way but then your mind started turning.

“wait, was i just an alibi? if you went through with it, i would have defended a murder to my friends. what the fuck, ethan?” standing to your feet, face getting warm with heat. heart thumping at this alternate outcome.

"i know, i know. yes. you were designed to be my alibi, but I never fully wanted to be a part of all this, i only joined at first cause my whole family was a wreck after my brother died. my hands are free of blood but my conscious is pooling with guilt, that's why i'm telling you this so then we can then warn the others. i trust you the most out of everyone."

ethan took a step closer and instead of flinching or moving back, you stood your ground keeping a keen eye on him. "you swear you've had no part in anything so far? cause i can't trust or defend you if there is a drop of blood on your hands." staring up at him with pleading, hopeful eyes.

with this new information you didn't want to mistake him for a nerdy, shy good guy. but the ethan you know is the shy (flushing whenever chad tried to wingman him to you or any girl), a little nerdy (whiling to go into film debates with mindy when she was in a trusting mood) and he was genuinely a good, sweet guy. he'd always walk you home when it was dark outside, he'd buy you food or drinks whenever you're together for hours, and he'd always uplift you; complimenting you from your accomplishments to how you looked that day. that's the ethan landry you've gotten to know the past six months, you don't want to lose him.

his whiskey-brown eyes danced around, pinballing over the place. his tongue peeking out to wet his plush pink lips, your eyes followed the action. you felt his hand bump into your own, looking down to see him linking your pinkies together.

"i swear i have done no harm to anyone. when everything started to feel real i knew this wasn't the healthy decision, it's not worth losing everything i've gained. this group is more of a family to me and- and i don't want to lose you because of a revenge fantasy." brows pinching and eyes changing to a doe expression.

“what- what are you… what about your actual family? would they kill you or disown you? doesn’t- doesn’t that bother you in anyway?” watching how ethan’s face didn’t change, just a simple shrug in response.

“it doesn’t matter. nothing matters but this, so no it doesn’t bother me… completely.” bringing his free hand to your cheek, cupping your apple and rubbing at the growing dark circles. ethan leaned his head closer, “i mean it when i don’t want to lose you. i want to get the opportunity to build a future with you, get our degrees, take you out on dates and so much further down the line.”

“i’d- i’d like that too…” trailing off as you both leaned in and locked lips. hand reaching out to grasp onto the hem of ethan’s shirt, pinkies curling tighter, with ethan treating you like a fine piece of china. if this weren’t such a dire situation you would happily indulge further, but you kept it short and sweet before being the first to lean away.

“run away with me,” ethan sighed against your wet lips. your eyes fluttered open to see his dream stare. “can- can we do that?”

“after.” silently agreeing to flee with ethan, “but after all this. we can’t leave our friends behind and you’ll help us have the upper hand.” making a move to the bathroom door.

you pulled ethan behind you and brought the both of you back to the living room. all eyes turned to you and ethan, having been gone for almost ten minutes now.

“were you two making out? seriously? now?” mindy complained with an eye roll. you deadpanned her with a simple, “yes and, ethan has something to share will all of you.” stoned eyes melting into honey as you urged him on, “you can do this.” giving his hand a comforting squeeze.

#erin's blurb request #ethan landry x you #ethan landry angst #ethan landry x gn!reader #ethan landry imagine #ethan landry x reader #ethan landry #scream 6 #scream vi #ethan landry scream 6 #jack champion scream 6

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lookingfts · 12 days

Text

Thank you for your meet-cute ideas! I love them all and may write more of them, but for tonight I chose this idea from @rk19991999, so thank you!

He’d never felt more out of place.

The wedding was beautiful, of course. Dorset seemed happy, exchanging hushed words on the dance floor with his new bride. A lovely girl. Edwina – that was her name. To be fair, Anthony had only met her for about five seconds when they visited his table at dinner.

Daphne and Simon, the only other people he knew, had bowed out a bit early – Daphne’s pregnancy was making her regularly queasy. Anthony couldn’t quite recall, now, why he hadn’t made an excuse to leave with them.

Oh, right. The bridesmaid.

Edwina’s sister was very likely the most gorgeous woman he’d ever seen. He nearly dropped his phone when she walked down the aisle, draped in colorful fabric and heavy gold jewelry. Anthony rustled a floral decoration rather loudly, and the sister had looked at him sharply. He was torn between wanting the ground to swallow him whole and catching his breath, because really, she was fucking beautiful.

She’d recovered, and so had he, and then she had been surrounded by family all night. Anthony was certainly not above hitting on an attractive woman at a wedding, but to do it front of her relatives felt…uncouth.

After a while, he lost sight of her altogether, and swallowed down the rest of his champagne. He was happy for Dorset, genuinely, but it was long past time to make his exit.

Anthony stood, and a slim hand wrapped around his wrist. He turned to find the sister, her eyes urgent and her cheeks a little flushed. “Hi,” she said in a low voice. “Are you single?”

“Um. Yes?”

“Good. I’ll give you fifty pounds if you play along with what’s about to happen. An extra fifty if you kiss me right now.”

His first instinct was to tell this woman that he didn’t need the money, actually, and then realized that was an extremely stupid thing to lead with. Especially since he’d spent the whole night staring at her from across the room.

Tipping her chin up with his thumb, Anthony pressed his lips to hers gently. He didn’t want to push too far, but her skin was so soft under his palm and she tasted like mango and it was making him more than a little stupid.

Her nails raked through his hair, her mouth moving more insistently against his, and an embarrassing moan formed in his throat. Even more so when she nipped at his bottom lip, drawing back with dark, blown eyes and shallow breaths.

Christ, he wanted to take her home. Or – scratch that. Somewhere closer. A hotel room. A powder room. His car. This table right in front of them.

“Kathani!” He jumped at the voice behind him, forgetting for a moment that they were playing some kind of role. She tucked herself into Anthony’s side as three older woman descended on them, and he reciprocated, sliding his arm around her waist and holding her tight against him. His heart was still pounding, and he wondered if she could feel it as she placed her hand on his chest.

“This is David,” Kathani said, and he realized with some satisfaction that she sounded breathless as well. “My fiancé.”

“I’m sorry about that,” she sighed, linking her fingers together behind his neck. “The aunties are relentless.”

It had been quite the interrogation. Anthony wasn’t sure how to convincingly fake a relationship with a woman he’d literally never met, but Kathani had a quick answer to everything. They’d met on the tube; he was a surgeon; she wasn’t wearing her ring because they didn’t want to draw attention away from Edwina’s big day. Anthony had been happy to stare at her adoringly and hum his agreement at appropriate intervals. The aunties probably thought he was dim-witted, but they had called him handsome several times.

Finally, she’d tugged Anthony onto the dance floor, blending in with the sea of couples. “What happens when I’m not actually a surgeon named David and we don’t get married?”

Her eyes went wide. “Fuck! I never even asked your name.”

“It’s Anthony,” he said with a chuckle.

“I’m Kate,” she responded, wrinkling up her nose in a very endearing way. “Kathani, of course, but only my family calls me that. And to answer your question, I don’t care. Eddie’s wedding just brought out the vultures and I didn’t feel like being told everything I need to change about myself to attract a man’s attention.”

“Ouch. My mum kind of does the same thing, to be fair.” They shared a laugh, and Anthony felt his heart turn over in his chest. Her laugh was as stunning as the rest of her. “You don’t need to change anything, by the way. I almost disrupted your sister’s whole wedding because you took my breath away, walking down the aisle.”

She stiffened a little, blinking up at him through long lashes. Maybe it was too much, but Kate deserved to know that she was not lacking, at least not in his eyes. Whatever she did with that information was her choice.

A soft flush rose in her cheeks as she sank her teeth into her lip. “I, um…” Kate cleared her throat. “I might have chosen you as my fake fiancé because I liked the way you looked at me.”

Anthony did an internal cheer of victory. He was suddenly glad that he’d been too stubborn to leave the party early. Waiting for a chance that had turned out much better than he could have imagined. “Well, I am willing to keep up the pretense. Take you out for dinner, you know. Learn your life story so I can actually contribute to the lie next time. The aunties definitely thought there was nothing going on upstairs, if you know what I mean.”

Kate snorted, biting back a smile as her fingers played with the fine hairs at the back of his neck. “We should work on the kissing, too. A solid first effort, but I think we can get better.”

“Of course,” he agreed with mock seriousness. “We can’t half-arse it, can we?”

#bridgerton #kanthony #kate x anthony #anthony x kate #bridgerton fic

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ssplague · 6 months

Text

Benighted Beloved

Chapter two

Masterlist

Warnings: Some Katsuki-esque violence this chapter, that’s all.

Honorable mentions 💌

@lalachanya @mrsmelaninhood

@whatdidshesayyy @faemagic88

@viridianhero @alishii @rv19

@maggiecc

✨ 🌙 ✨

“There sat a Crescent Moon on her forehead”

“Here you go, it’s rosehip tea, make sure you drink it while it’s hot, that way you won’t end up with a cold” the man you now know as Midoryia Izuku hands over a steaming mug.

“Thank you so much for your help, I’m new around here…I…well I wasn’t sure where to go…I hope I’m not causing you too much trouble” your voice is quiet compared to the storm beating against the walls outside. The change of clothes he’d given you were soft on your skin, the well worn fabric held a fading lilac scent, as did the quilt set beside you. The hot tea goes down easily, a soothing warmth spreads from your fingers to the tips of your toes. “You aren’t causing me any trouble at all I promise, I had planned on returning to the capital city for the celebration, but I’m sure it was postponed due to this sudden change of weather” the green haired man replied as he adds a couple more logs to the fire burning in the grate.

“Celebration?” You ask, intrigued despite the sleepiness washing over you. Izuku nods as he prods the newly added logs with a poker, “One of my most treasured friends has finally found the one he wants to share his life with, to be honest with you a majority of people never thought he’d marry someone because of his harsh personality but…the few of us that know him well knew that was a lie” he’s smiling again as firelight danced in reflection of his emerald eyes. You had set your now empty cup off to the side, silently stretching out across the couch and snuggling up beneath the warm blanket. Content to sit in silence as your host got caught up in cherished memories, you were sleeping soundly in minutes. Eventually when Midoryia did resurface from memory lane, his face burned red with embarrassment as he realized he’d forgotten you were here with him! “I’m sorry y/n! I spaced out, how rude of me! I was going to tell you that you could rest in the bedroom if you like, I’m fine with the couch-“ Izuku abruptly shuts up when he notices you were asleep.

“She must have been exhausted…poor thing”

Quietly, he tip toes over to grab your empty mug, deciding to fill it with water incase you woke up thirsty. While kneeling down to pick it up, the firelight sparkles across something that draws his eye immediately.

A crescent moon.

A golden crescent moon, on your forehead…a shaky finger briefly runs across it, that was real, no make up to smudge away.

With wide eyes, the now startled man bolts from his den and into the kitchen.

You! But how?!

Why?!

Oh goddess!

How could you have found your way here?! Weren’t you supposed to be with Kaachan?! Oh no what if you had run away?!

Scarred hands tangled themselves in green curls as he tired to wrap his now frazzled mind around this discovery; Kaachan’s runaway bride being found here in that damn Deku’s study!

I’m a dead man walking!

“It’s gotta be a mistake, it can’t really be her…yeah of course it isn’t her…she’s miles away from here, back in the capital where she’s supposed to be” a chuckle escapes between his manic muttering as the deflating man lowers himself to the floor. Izuku’s shoulders sag with relief after convincing himself it was a simple case of mistaken identity. Leaning back against the cabinets, his eyes momentarily close and a relieved sigh blows across his chapped lips. Only for them to fly open once more as a loud knock suddenly echoed from the front door of the cabin, making the alchemist yelp in response.

Getting to his now shaking legs, he peeks down the hall and listens for any sign you had woken up.

Silence follows, only to be disturbed by the now continuous knocking.

Forcing one foot infront of the other until he stands at the door, the terrified man forces himself to open it. The happy face of Kirishima greets him, “Hey there Midoryia! Sorry to just drop in on ya like this, thank goodness you weren’t back at the capital already”.

“Are you gonna let us in? It’s fucking pouring out here dammit!”

Bakugou’s snarling voice puts the fear of god into Izuku as he jumps aside to let the two soaked men in.

“Oh uh hey there Kaachan, Kirishima…what brings you two out here? Thought you’d be back at the castle, you know…to celebrate-“

“Ain’t nothing to fucking celebrate”

Yep, he’s most definitely a dead man.

Katsuki wrings out his cape on the doorstep before slamming the door shut, just as he does so, Izuku returns with a couple towels he’d grabbed from the linen closet.

“Thanks man” says Ejiro, flashing fangs with a smile “That storm hit outta nowhere as we were flying back, his majesty over here insisted we keep flying through it, until he almost got his wing zapped that is”.

The aforementioned male didn’t reply to the jab taken at him as he dried his hair off. The other two men looked at each other, the green haired male looking at the red head with evident confusion on his face. “He’s pretty upset”mouthed Kirishima and Midoryia gulps silently before nodding.

“I wanna hang my cape up in front of the fire” the blonde mumbles, noticing the lack there of in the front room’s grate.

“Sure! Let me just grab some of the wood I have in my den!” Izuku exclaims a little too excitedly as he spins on his heel.

“Nah man you don’t gotta do all that, we can just use the one you have going already, right Bakugou?”.

“Oh no it’s okay, I don’t m-“

Deku’s panicked response is drowned out by a gruff “Sure, what the fuck ever, I just want to warm up”.

The angry Royal starts moving towards the short hallway, and immediately finds his way blocked by the much smaller man, “Really Kaachan, it’s no trouble! We can make a much bigger fire out here, the one in the den can only be small because of all my flammable materials-“.

“Oh shut it would you!” Growls the already frustrated monarch, “Otherwise there will be a far greater threat to your stupid materials than a goddamn fireplace”. After the threat had been made, Katsuki makes to move past the annoying bastard blocking his path. Only for said bastard to side step, effectively blocking his way again. Izuku internally cringes at the sudden ire that lights up in the hellfire eyes glaring daggers at him. Even Kirishima fights off the urge to shudder as the energy inside the cabin shifts drastically.

“Get.out.of.my.way.Deku” the bigger man’s intimidating voice starts off quietly.

“Listen Kaachan-“ the smaller man at least tries to reason with the other, but is cut off.

“You’re acting real fucking brazen nerd, too bad that today really was the wrong day for you to grow a pair” taking a step closer Bakugou puffs out his chest as he sneers down at Deku.

“Look it was an accident really, I didn’t know! I-“ a startled cry escapes the green haired man as a sparking fist takes hold of his shirt collar.

“What the fuck are you talking about? You don’t know shit! Oh I get it…You think its funny don’t you? Funny that she ran away afraid of me?! Go ahead and laugh! GO AHEAD AND LAUGH I FUCKING DARE YOU!” Snarls shifted into screams as the dragon shifter lifts his prey off it’s feet. The tight fisted grip singed the fabric of the shirt it held. Just as Kirishima springs into action to separate his friends, fast footsteps come racing from down the hall. They were immediately followed by a frightened, but still demanding, feminine sounding shriek, “STOP!!!”.

All three men froze, each set of their respective eyes moving to locate the source of the shout. It didn’t take long for them to all locate you, half your body still hidden in shadow of the dark hallway.

A/N: I know this was short, but I still have two full chapters already finished (& much longer) and one partially completed 🥰 All the praise I received over the story this far is incredible & always deeply appreciated ❤️‍🔥

#katsuki bakugou #bakugou x reader #katsuki bakugo x reader #bakugo x reader #katsuki bakugou x y/n #bakugou x y/n #dragon king bakugou #dragon bakugou #mha x reader #mha fantasy au

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velvetcloxds · 2 years

Text

ALWAYS THE BRIDESMAID | J.H.

pairing: jasper hale x cullen!reader

word count: 2k

warning: friends in love but the one doesn't know it yet

summary: bella and edward's wedding day has you feeling somewhat envious of their love story

You felt awful, upset with your heart for the way it ached, for the way it shouted shots of anger, of envy, it was not at all what you'd expect of it on such a happy day. Bella and Edward danced below on the makeshift dance floor the vampires had very reluctantly created while you sat crossed-legged on the roof of the Cullen mansion- grateful for the darkness for allowing you to get lost despite the endless eyes that would search for you.

You had a great love for your brother and his new mate, happy that despite years, decades, of such grim, such overpowering sadness he finally allowed himself such mundane emotions of happiness. Maybe that was what had your heart drawing in upon itself. You didn't think yourself possible of such selfishness, being tormented by pity, by jealousy that reformed your decayed cells in a way that made you nauseous. You hated how your insides twisted, begged yourself, and willed yourself to remember the joy that swerved about your lost soul while planning this day.

But you knew where it came from, what it meant. Those were your flowers that cascaded down from the trees, your dress that flowed from Bella's life-kissed figure, your flower petals that spread towards your altar, your day, your dream. Yet you weren't there, it was everything you wanted and yet it belonged to them, you gave it to them, your dream and now you sit alone, rewatching it from the outside.

“Careful,” someone warned from behind you and were it not a warning you’d heard countless times before you’d not have been able to pin its owner down so quickly, the blond vampire swinging down from a branch and sinking down beside you, giving a soft sigh as he adjusted his suit jacket, about as unhappy with the fancy ordeal as you were, for very different reasons. “You might think yourself into a mess you can’t get out of,” he explained and you almost smiled, habitually moving closer to him, letting your shoulders touch as he looked down to search for the reason for your foul mood.

“You know, Jas, I was trying to hide away in peace,” you reprimanded, though he didn’t believe you, your emotions always betraying you, shifting as soon as he was close, it was as if your heart, despite all the wrong it did you, felt safest with Jasper, freely giving away your secrets to him and his senses.

“What do you think I’m doing here?” he argued, he was speaking in that charming, kind tone, you’d be silly thinking he reserved it just for you when really you were just most accustomed to it, prompting it from him much like he prompted calmness from you, a natural reaction despite your unnatural, supernatural existence. “You thought I came here for you?” you didn’t need to answer, he knew you did, and you knew it was true even if he was trying to pretend otherwise. “Very presumptuous.”

“Oh, you know me, always thinking about myself,” your words had a bite to them, thinking the present situation was the perfect time to remind yourself and your heart that no matter how much you wished it was, this wasn’t your day, and you had no right to wish it was.

“Hey now,” he breathed, disapproving of his words being turned into a real reprimand when really he was trying to talk you out of your head, talk you up from that hole you’d dug yourself into, help you crawl back to the surface to enjoy the day, it was a happy day after all, for everyone, or at least it was supposed to be. “What’s messing with your heart today?” you didn’t want to admit it, your selfish feelings, but you also knew that if anyone would be able to help you make sense of it, it would be your best friend, he’d not judge you for your short-sighted and very much unplanned pity party.

“Actually, I think it’s the other way around, think it’s messing with me,” you sighed, stealing a quick glance at him, sure the sight of him all dressed up and perfect would’ve made you blush had the blood still traveled through your veins, instead you managed a little hum, head tilting to take him in before looking back down to the newlyweds. “Can you feel what they’re feeling?” a puzzling question, leaving much to the imagination since you were sure they felt more than just one thing on a day like today, but somehow, as he always does, Jasper knew what you meant.

“That’s not what you want to ask me,” you hated that he could make that statement so casually, so surely, you also didn’t hate it all, you merely hoped he’d answer the real question without making you ask again. “Go on then,” he pushed, you wanted to roll your eyes, lightly shoving your shoulder against his instead, not missing the way his lips begged to tilt into a smile. “Ask me.”

“Can you feel their love?” he scoffed, unsatisfied, you were nearly there, almost at the point, it was dancing on the tip of your tongue, begging for release but you were being stubborn, he decided to be kind.

“I can’t feel it, per sé, it’s not just one single emotion, doesn’t just add up to one thing you can express, as complicated as love is, feeling it is much the same.” His pause was a courtesy, one he offered due to the disappointment that dipped into the air, flooded from you, and surrounded you just as your emotions often do for as entirely as you feel everything, you felt this in your soul, another stab at your heart, another knife in your icy coffin of life. “I can’t make you feel it either, can’t show you what it’s like,” he breathed and you couldn’t deny him the little nod you managed, not even thinking before you leaned your head against his shoulder, one hand snaking around his arm, other hand searching for his fingers and claiming them in yours as if they were your own. “I would if I could, darling, you know that, don’t you?”

“Of course, I do,” you squeezed his arm lightly, not wanting him to think he’d disappointed you somehow simply by not being able to do the impossible, it’s just that living as you do, being what you are, the concept of impossible seemed so unspecified, so mundane. You had always longed for it, wished for it at night, dreamed of it during every moment of the day, you’d wanted more than anything to feel loved in all possible meanings of the word- yet it seemed more likely that Jasper could create a counterfeit version of it with his gift than someone truly feeling that way for you, about you. “Maybe someday I could feel it, really feel it,” you nearly whispered, you willed the words to sound hopeful, but even if your voice could pretend, your heart certainly couldn’t.

“I’m almost certain that you will,” Jasper promised and you hummed when he kissed the top of your head, your eyes not leaving the sight it had been trained on, the couple in question finally moving away from the dancefloor and by the smell of it, Edward had a howling surprise in store for his new wife.

“Do you think it’ll be worth it?”

“What?”

“Waiting,” you explained and you hadn’t noticed a rather lovely looking, yet slightly terrifyingly quiet Alice creeping up to join the pair of you. “Do you think he’ll be worth waiting for?”

“I certainly think so,” Alice sang, already making herself comfortable next to you, taking hold of your arm and gently forcing you onto her shoulder instead, pleased when the action earned her a little smile from your previously pouting lips. “Think you might not be waiting as long as you think,” she shrugged and you missed her eyes as they locked with Jasper’s, who was already looking at her, hope drowning his features as he fought his brows from furrowing.

“Don’t give me too much hope, Ali,” you said, happy that you had a distraction, her bracelets perfect to fiddle with as she let you move her hand into your lap, you were calming down, feelings simmered but uncertainty lingering, yet you were safe with your comfort people and though the love you shared with your family wasn’t what your heart wished for, it did fill most of the emptiness. “I love you guys,” you mumbled, smiling as Alice proceeded to pull you into a proper hug.

“We love you too,” Alice agreed and Jasper wished the moment would pass because Alice was many things but subtle was not one of them and the way she was looking at him was impossible to miss, even if you weren’t yourself right now. “Some more than others.”

“Oh, I know,” you agreed and when you pulled away to look at them you made sure to give Jasper an extra long smile, he was after all the one to try and make everything better first, even if it didn’t exactly work. “Jasper over here is a real softy for his best friend,” you giggled at that, loving the instant recoil at the words as he pulled you right back to him, being sure to hide the way he melted around you, so perfect, he found it awfully rude of his body to react so willingly to you when the chances of being with you were so slim, so impossible, but then again, just like you, he didn’t think impossible was all that big of an obstacle to overcome.

“That I am, darling,” he purred and with one last squeeze he let you go, already prepared to swoop you right off the roof and onto the dancefloor to take your mind off all that could be clouding it and remind your heart that love was already right there waiting for it, and he would be ready to show you- to tell you more about love and just how familiar he was with the feeling when you and your heart were ready.

“I won’t mind always being the bridesmaid if you’re the one walking down the aisle beside me,” you informed him, allowing him to guide you down from your hiding place, Alice made sure to leave a little space between herself and you two before following you down.

“You won’t always be the bridesmaid,” Jasper noted, not at all surprised when he looked down to where you were climbing the branches to find your shoes had long been abandoned, free hand trying to keep your dress out of the way.

“How do you know?” you demanded once settled on the ground, giving in to his fiddling as he tried to make your dress right, tilting his head slightly as he dusted the purple material of any dirt it might have picked up on your little adventure away from everyone.

“I have a feeling,” he was unnervingly charming as he smirked at you, happy that he could feel your nerves ease, all the horrid feelings that led him to search for you now masked by a sense of content and comfort- happiness, because of him. “Trust me,” you nodded, giving in to the mood of the party as you started dragging him to the very middle of the crowd, pleased that the song had changed pace and the bride and groom were away enjoying themselves in solace.

“I always do.” And you did, you knew him well enough to know he’d always tell the truth, always be honest, always bare his heart to yours, at least when he was ready to do so too.

Twilight taglist: @saintlike78 @scarlet-prey @cupids-crystals @venomsvl @esposamultifandom @itzliyalupin @alexxavicry @iambuckysbae @axen-gers @cauliflowertree

#jasper hale #jasper hale x reader #jasper hale x you #jasper hale x y/n #jasper hale x yn #jasper hale fic #jasper hale fanfic #jasper hale fanfiction #jasper hale fluff #jasper hall imagine #jasper hale one shot #jasper hale drabble #jasper hale blurb #twilight fluff #twilight fic #twilight fanfic #twilight fanfiction

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seungbinbin · 1 year

Text

stray kids interacting with their hispanic s/o’s family

i had to take a trip back home and now that i’m here i’ve been thinking about how skz would be around a hispanic family so…here’s this!

chan who already looked up how to greet people and how to show respect in a hispanic household

chan who finds a way to understand your abuela’s instructions on how to set the table, even when it’s all in spanish

chan who will laugh and smile and entertain all your primos and primas that want to learn korean words or ask about his accent

chan who is quick to make friends with your mom, and promises to come around more often for a cafecito in the morning

minho who will dance with you even if he doesn’t know the song playing

minho who will try his best to keep up with the quick merengue beat playing loudly from the speakers

minho who’s a fast learner and starts spinning you around with a huge smile on his face because dance is his passion and a big part of your culture and it makes him happy

minho who gets stolen by your tías and they won’t give him back because “está bien guapo”

changbin who insists on getting there on time to make a good impression but doesn’t understand how hispanic time works so you get there before anything is even set up

changbin who has no problem being bossed around by your mom and does his best to help put everything where it needs to be

changbin who doesn’t refuse when your mom tells him to eat more, and it makes her smile so brightly

changbin who plays a la lucha libre with your little cousins, throwing them up in the air and making sure they don’t get hurt

hyunjin who immediately has your aunts complimenting him and touching his face just in case they gave him mal de ojo

hyunjin who gets comfortable around your family so quickly that they include him in the inner family chisme debrief

hyunjin who lets your little prima braid his hair and shows her how to draw all the pretty things she can think of

hyunjin who will take the time to learn how to pronounce the names of your family members, and will be patient while they learn how to pronounce his (they call him juan hyunjin and that’s fine!)

han who is immediately given a nickname by your family, and you have to explain that’s their way of accepting him

han who now knows to respond to “flaco” whenever he visits your family

han who is the only one that can calm the youngest primito down, and is happy to hold him so that the mom can go dance and enjoy herself

han who can only smile and blush and laugh when your abuela pinches his cheeks and coos at him “¡ay, mi nene guapo! ¡mi flaco!”

felix who insisted on bringing a dessert to the next family party, and spends weeks perfecting his flan

felix who has been learning spanish behind your back so he can sit and talk to your immigrant parents (“¡[y/n], tu novio habla puro español!”)

felix who is so interested in what and how your family cooks, asking for recipes so that he can make them for you at home

felix who insists on helping serve the food, and that it didn’t matter that he was “visita”

seungmin who brings beers for your dad because he’s a little scared of him and wants to make a good impression

seungmin who has been learning all the hispanic songs you have showed him, and joins in when it’s time to sing with the family

seungmin who is now known as “el que canta” and your family begs him to sing your favorite song every time

seungmin who is el novio favorito, gets added to the family group chat and included in the pictures

jeongin who is so stoked to find out that there’s double christmas in your household, but also confused because they celebrate on the 24th

jeongin who has the worst luck ever and gets the baby jesus from la rosca de reyes

jeongin who is suspiciously good at playing dominoes and you wonder if he practiced before coming over

jeongin who listens to the stories your tíos are telling, gasping at all the things they did when they were young and back in their home countries

#me continuing my skz x latinx content #as i should #skz x reader #skz x you #skz x y/n #stray kids x reader #stray kids fluff #stray kids x y/n #stray kids x you #skz fluff #skz headcanons #bang chan #lee know #changbin #hyunjin #han jisung #seungmin #jeongin #idk what else to tag this <3

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itsagrimm · 2 years

Text

He Who Comes from under the Water

Chapter 2 - A Caring Man

Monster!König x she/her afab reader

CN: patriarchy & sexism, arranged marriage, speaking animals, dead fish, mentions of cannibalism, harassment, ableist speech, woohoo another drowning reference, toxic masculinity village edition

eventuell smut.

Beta-read by the wonderful @queenquazar

Cultural context notes:

I’m basing a lot on central and eastern european fairy tales.

The heron is a figure from an old fairy tale called the heron & the fox.

Masterlist

“What’s it like being married?” the king asked.

“Lot’s of work if you are doing it right.” The old man leaned back and fixed his pipe.

The wooden ceiling above your bed was familiar and simple. Since you were a child, you had woken up to this sight since you could remember. Now, it was the most fascinating thing to stare at.

Cracks, textures, knotholes in the old planks– all of it was better to look at than to face the world outside of your little room.

You closed your eyes. Maybe you could summon back the night, the past days, the… quite a lot of time actually since you last been happy.

A sunray danced over your face.

Saichiki – as your mother had called them, little sun rabbits jumping around and reminding you that it was indeed day no matter how much you tried to pretend otherwise.

You took a deep breath, opened your eyes and got up.

Swinging your legs over the edge of your bed before-

Wet.

You jolted back and peaked over the edge onto the floor.

A puddle of water covered the ground before your sleeping space. A trail of little puddles leading away from the water at your bed and out of the room. Careful not to step into the water again, you got up and traced the trail out of the room, into the empty kitchen and finally out of the door.

Confused, you looked into the garden.

In the middle of the path was a pile of freshly caught, still wriggling fish.

Quickly, you slammed the door.

König, you thought to yourself while sliding down the wood door, plopping on the floor.

You heard yourself choke as the memories as they returned: Your family was gone, your grandfather had promised your hand in marriage to a strange inhuman being from the swamps, you nearly drowned yesterday, and the people from the village you had grown up with, wanted you gone because bad things happened around you. Maybe they were right and you were cursed.

Maybe you were cursed not like in the old tales but as simple as an unlucky charm, drawing the worst lot out for everyone including yourself.

You buried your face in your hands, allowing yourself an honest moment to cry.

A knock on the door made you jolt back up again, jumping away from the door and staring at the tarnished knob

You listened.

Another knock.

“Go away!” you cried, hoping that König or whoever from the village had come to your house, would just leave.

Another knock.

Groaning, you got up and ripped open the door while reaching for the broom next to the door.

“I said go away!” you cried again, ready to swing the broom at whoever harassed you, before stopping in your tracks, the door bouncing slightly against the wall.

A heron stood before your door, next to the pile of fish.

“Huh?”

The bird looked at you before looking back at the pile of fish.

Confused, you raised the broom to shoo away the bird.

“Shoo! Shoo! Go away!”

It danced a few steps back before returning to its spot and looking from you to the fish and back again.

You grimaced, shivering in only your chemise in the early morning breeze.

“Listen, heron, if you want a fish, just take some. They are not mine!” you tried, feeling out of your debts. Why were you even trying to talk to an animal?

Naturally, the bird said nothing.

“Of course,” you mumbled, more to yourself than to the bird, as you turned to close the door.

The bird rattled, as if laughing.

“Girl,” it cackled, and you froze in horror at the sound of the speaking bird, “I’m not eating the fish the king caught you. He tasked me to make sure you eat them. ‘My bride is so light to carry,’ he said. ‘Make her eat some fish,’ he said.”

Horrified, you kept staring at the bird.

“Take the fish!” it cried, “Don’t make me wait on you, girl.”

You blinked in surprise at the slightly annoyed heron.

“R-right. Sorry,” you mumbled before remembering your grandfather’s tales and warning about speaking animals. Bowing slightly to the bird, “Can I get you something in return for looking out for me, master heron?”

Another rattle from the bird.

“You can leave me a chalice out in the garden with some of the fish you are going to cut. It would be much appreciated.”

“Will do.” You bowed again before putting down the broom and quickly grabbing a big bowl to collect the fish.

As you returned to get the fish, you were alone. The heron was gone. Alone in the garden, you picked up the fresh trout and one big carp from the ground, feeling the heavy weight of watching eyes on you.

You kept inside the house as much as you could for the rest of the morning, only leaving to get firewood and water to wash and cook the fish. The thought of having more eyes watching you made your stomach turn. And having to face one of the same villagers who thought you cursed? The thought alone sealed your convictions to keep to yourself. You traced the wooden chopping board before sliding your fingers over the used counter. Home, it was all home, even the slightest dent felt like it belonged there just like you belonged with this house.

You let yourself fall onto one of the chairs, taking a break.

Why did I take the fish?

You could not help but wonder why you had allowed a bird to intimidate you so much before getting up and filling a chalice with a bit of fish for the heron as promised.

Because it spoke and birds don’t speak.

You grimaced to yourself as you placed the chalice onto the windowsill. Better not test your luck with speaking animals.

The fish König got you was fatty, fresh, and delicious.

You could not help feeling slightly grateful for the food. Maybe König was not as bad as you had assumed, and he did not want you any harm.

Maybe-

You froze at the thought of König feeding and fattening you up only to eat you once it fit him. The memory of one of many of your grandfather's tales rose up in your mind, like the pieces of fish rose up in the cooking broth.

“Open up, Wench!”

You flinched under the harsh words as someone knocked against the wooden door.

“Open up!”It was Ivar. Back in the days, he had been a friend to your father. Now, he was the first to terrorize you as the cursed girl.

“What do you want, Ivar?” you called through the closed door while stepping closer, clutching the broom again. It was better to ask before letting the mob leader in. And it was better to be armed with a broom than regretting not to.

“What do you want, wench?” he shouted, “I told you to leave yesterday. Yet, here you are! Nobody wants you here, bitch!”

Bile rose in your throat. It was bitter to discover the people you had grown up with turned against you so easily.

“This is my home, Ivar!”

He snorted dismissively, “This was your grandfather’s home - an honorable man. And you cursed and killed him, just like you killed all the others! I am not waiting for you to kill the rest of the village!”

“I have not killed anyone!” you cried. Fear, sadness, and anger – a lot of anger – tinting your voice.

“Don’t lie to me, witch!” Ivar spat, “You killed them! You killed them all. And now all that is left is you in this once honorable house. Leave or I’ll make you!”

You flinched.

“This is my home,”you whispered before raising your voice, “This is my home, Ivar! I’ll never leave!”

Cold and hot shivers washed over you as you felt tears well up in your eyes.

“Ha! You are a woman!” Ivar retorted with spite, “Only men can own land. You are so vile that no one even wanted to marry you for your family’s land. You are cursed! Leave before you kill us all!”

Hot tears spilled over your face.

Anger boiled in your stomach. But sadness kept you from shouting back at Ivar, sadness, and betrayal. It was as if Ivar did not need to drag you from your own home to punch all fight out of your body. With shaky hands you gripped the broom, trying to calm your agitated breath.

“Why would anyone marry for land?” a different voice asked.

Your eyes widened in recognition.

König.

“Now, marrying for water that I would understand,” König mused, “but land?”

A confused pause transfused through the wood door to you.

“Are you an idiot?” Ivar finally asked angrily, “Who are you, stranger?”

“König. The question is rather who are you to shout at my fiancé, little man?”

Another powerful pause before Ivar broke with a loud and dismissing, “What? You are lying!”

This was it, you realized, this was your chance of getting rid of Ivar and the villagers.

With a swing, you opened the door, wiping away your tears.

Ivar nearly filled out the door frame, but König easily loomed over Ivar, standing a couple of steps away in the garden. He stared down with an amused smile, cold blue eyes transfixed on the smaller man.

“No, he is not,” you declared while pushing your way past Ivar and stepped close to König, “This is König, my fiancé. Leave us alone, Ivar.”

“As if anyone would marry the cursed girl,” Ivar remarked despairingly.

“A curse?” König peeped curiously while slightly leaning into the space between you and Ivar.

You shifted around uncomfortably. “They say I am cursed because my family died, König.”

He turned his head and eyed you for a moment. You returned his curious gaze, he looked different now – human.

“Intriguing. I’m a truly lucky man.”

“Are you insane?” Ivar gasped.

A quick smile flashed over König’s face.

“Insane?” he asked with a friendly tone that indicated entirely not friendly intentions, while stalking closer to Ivar, “Tell me – Ivar, right? Tell me Ivar, is it smart to harass the girl that you say is so cursed, she brings death to anyone close? Yet, you can’t get enough of yelling at her from as close as possible?”

Another step closer.

“Or, tell me, is it smart to anger the stranger who is willing to marry this cursed girl? Am I not the dead-man-walking then who has nothing to lose according to you?”

He straightened up, towering massively and glaring down at Ivar. You couldn’t pry your eyes from König, large and imposing, silent as a whisper as he unfolded the foolishness of Ivar’s so-called reasoning.

“Or is my fiancé not cursed and you have no reason to be here, making you nothing but a petty man preying on those he can target easily? Uh, Ivar, tell me? What will it be?”

Another quick smile danced over König’s face, dangerous, entirely inhuman.

You shivered.

Ivar, feet still firmly planted, had leaned his shoulders from König, trying to create distance, and in his attempts, shifted around slightly, before looking around and finally, to the ground.

“This is not over, Good day,” Ivar mumbled and stepped away before turning around and walking out of the garden.

You both stayed and watched him trott off until he vanished between the trees and bushes, breathing a slow exhale once out of sight.

“What kind of curse is it?”

You turned your head, facing König.

“I’m sorry?”

“What kind of curse is it?” He repeated, “is it by a witch or by another human or something else? And how does it work?”

“I don’t know?”, you huffed, stepping away and crossing your arms before you defensively while fighting the incoming tears. “I am not cursed. I think. I hope. It’s only what Ivar says to make me leave the village. He wants my family’s fields and my home. It could be nothing but a convenient lie.”

“How disappointing.”

You blinked in surprise. Disappointing?

“You would have preferred me to have a curse, König?”

He shrugged, “I certainly wouldn’t have minded it. How dangerous can a little human curse be after all? And it could be practical to have curses to keep annoying men like Ivar away, don’t you think?”

You considered his words. It’s not like you wanted to believe him, but the thought of keeping anyone away with a curse - real or not - felt more comforting than you would have wanted to admit.

“Maybe,” you conceded, “But I would prefer not to be cursed, or have Ivar show up at my doorstep claiming that I am.”

“Do not worry about Ivar anymore, my bride,” König said before turning to the house. “I smell fish cooking. Is that the fish I got you?”

Your head whipped around. The Soup!

“Oh no, I forgot it!”you cried before running back to the house and to the fire. Quickly, you grabbed a rag before taking the hot iron pod to move it off the hot flames. It smelled fine, not too burned. Yet, the bottom of the pot felt like it had started to burn slightly as you stirred and tasted the meal.

At least one good thing today, you thought to yourself while taking a deep breath.

A little knock on the door made you look up. König standing in the door frame, looking all green and tangled again like you remembered from the pond. Briefly, you wondered how he did that.

“Everything alright?” He asked, peeking into the house, his skin shimmering like water reflecting sunlight before appearing nearly human again.

“Uhm,” you tilted your head and looked away, “It’s fine. It’s all fine.”

He eyed you silently, clearly not believing you before finally mumbling, “Alright, you are as good of a liar as an otter. Don’t worry, my bride, I’ll have the heron watch your house in case Ivar returns.”

“Oh, so that’s how you knew he was here,” you stated dejectedly. Even the bird was watching. Was there any way to escape all this with so many eyes on you?

He grumbled before stalking into the room.

With a shriek you stepped back but he was before you, bowing down to you.

Terrified, you froze in your spot.

“Don’t worry, bride,” he said, “I may not know much about your human customs. But, I know that I am expected to keep you safe. No harm will befall you anymore.”

You stared up at him.

Blue, watery eyes you did not understand. Eyes, so profound. You felt like falling into deep waters. As you stared, it recalled the calming waters of the swamp, the gentle sway of laping rivers. Waters that carried the same oaths and secrets and security you were almost granted the day before as you stared and stared and stared-

He blinked and smiled, his eyes suddenly just blue eyes, the profane dissipating like fog in the bogland.

You gasped for air, suddenly feeling your lungs constricted and your skin going cold and damp.

“I’m glad you want to marry me,” he said and straightened up again, “I worried that I might have scared you yesterday. But you called me your fiance, so you must not fear me.”

He chuckled darkly while drawing your form into a hug.

“Ivar on the other hand, has plenty to fear now after picking a fight with the king of under the water.”

#lucky me has so many of swamp and forest photos from hiking which i'm going to use as art work for this series #könig #könig cod #könig x reader #könig mw2 #könig smut #könig x oc #könig call of duty #call of duty #grimmwriting #monster!könig

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mambalae-s · 1 year

Text

wc: 7.8k words

cw: milf! reader; reader is described as a plus sized black woman; masturbation (m); public masturbation (m); no penetrative sex; fantasizing — throat fucking; one (1) mention of a daddy kink; one sided sexual tension; wakatoshi is a simp; he’s down bad; let me know if i’m forgetting anything!

notes from author: so, i’d wound myself up for an entire month working on this and i still had so much i wanted to write for it despite it already being nearly 8,000 words long…! i’ll certainly try my best to make a second part for this, one i’ll want to write from our reader’s experience too! this, truthfully, wasn’t the first idea for my milf reader idea, but i think it’s so much better, and i’m happy with the plot i settled with! i hope that, at least even a little bit, it’ll be satisfying for you to read, too!

it’s amidst a blistering summer’s day when you move into the house next to his.

there’s blood pumping beneath ushijima wakatoshi’s skin and boiling beneath each heavy breath that wafts from his swollen lips. his feet pound against the paved roads as he jogs at a steady pace, and he feels his fibers tinge with a static as they blaze beneath the sweltering noon’s heat, a familiar ache ebbing deep within his muscles and crawling through his veins. the sweat clinging to his brow burns like a toxin that pours out through every cell, his heart beating with the drums that pound through his airpods and teach him a dance he’d learned many times before. iwaizumi had told him once that running could be as addictive as any drug, and here, beneath clear blue skies and through heavy draws of air, wakatoshi considers that maybe he was right.

he takes a deep breath as he mounds the slight hill that leads to his house, and abruptly, his pace halts, chest heaving still as his eyes take to the moving truck parked out in front of the house next to his; a house that had, for a while, remained empty, certainly gathering dust and stale air after the elderly couple had moved away nearly a month long past. it had been easy for him to forget all about the vacant space, what with him dedicating his days to training and months of traveling for practice and tournaments, and it seems that, within that time, someone’s finally purchased it and were moving in today.

he’d been gone long enough for the hard working men to have finished their work, wakatoshi muses, as he watches them pack away their trollies and begin making to either door of their truck. though, as he stands there, he feels puzzled, confused and seeking reason to something he can’t find. there’s nothing spectacular about seeing these two men readying to go about their day, nothing that should keep wakatoshi’s feet planted and his laboured breaths stilling beneath the wind, yet he finds himself waiting, lulled into a curiosity that he can’t explain as he watches the break lights glow red and listens to the engine roaring to life.

and then, he sees you.

you, who wears a gorgeous sundress, deep purple fabric woven like a tapestry of flowers that blossom over a body of voluptuous curves. he finds himself enraptured by your brown skin that shines beneath the scorching sun like smoky quartz, by the sweat that lines your brow as he likens the glistening sight of it to beautiful jewels that shine around your smile and set you alight with the luster of ten thousand diamonds. the strands of your black hair, they sheen on the painting of the midnight sky; dark and elegantly falling around your round face and pouring like a river of obsidian and black tourmaline across your busty chest.

“thank you so much once again,” your voice comes through with fluency in his mother tongue, the japanese you speak perhaps a little regional… osaka, he considers, or kyoto? your voice sings on the breathlessness of intense labour, and wakatoshi deludes himself into thinking that the exhaustion on your sultry voice mirrors the intensely beating heart that stirs in his chest with a restlessness that he doesn’t attribute to his run. “seriously, you two… i can’t tell you how much i appreciate coming all this way!”

the older men you speak to are friendly in their departure, cheering with bright smiles that resemble yours in their warmth and openness as they drive down the deep slope, passing him by the side and far from his mind as he loses his focus on you. suddenly, the fog that clouds his mind doesn’t come from a sweltering summer’s day, but instead from the picture of you, hot and bothered and eyes squeezed shut as you try to wave cool air over your wet skin. the daze that locks around his tongue is the one of your sheen-covered lips as they part and let pass the heavy breaths that sit on your chest, of the rise and fall of your large breasts and the bit of tummy that he can see atop your curves. that daze that consumes wakatoshi, he tells it to lust — a venom that crawls through his bloodstream and tinges his tongue with desire unchecked, so that he becomes consumed by you and the deceptively innocent visage that burns itself into his skin. and suddenly, wakatoshi feels too damn hot, his heart beats so hard he fears it’ll leap right from his throat, and his pants are too damn tight.

oh. fuck… how embarrassing could it be to get a hard on in front of your new neighbour? he didn’t think he’d ever have to ponder such a specific scenario, and he certainly isn’t happy to have a taste of it first hand. even worse, what is he supposed to do when the very same neighbour turns her eyes to him and catches him staring like some demented creep? wakatoshi’s face burns with a heat that far precedes the blazing sun and he wishes the earth would open up and swallow him whole as his mouth starts to taste of sand and parchment paper. really, he shames himself, how appallingly embarrassing!

just like a guilty child, he averts his eyes as his blood boils across his neck. his feet act on their own, guided by the desire to disappear as quickly as he can with hurried steps and trembling hands that are more than eager to open his front door and seal him behind their sanctuary, and he feels even more guilt for awkwardly avoiding the kind yet confused smile you’d sent his way as you watched the large man scurry up his front steps. the protruding bulge that pokes out from his trousers is so painfully obvious, almost aching behind its confines as he prays that you hadn’t had enough time to notice it. and even then, behind his barrier of safety, he’s left with a problem — a very big one that powders his nose red and takes his breath on laboured climbs.

huffing, wakatoshi trudges to the kitchen, desperately searching his refrigerator for the coldest bottle of water he can find and starts chugging right away. arctic drops spill between his lips and down his throat, though the chill does nothing to dissipate the heat coursing beneath his skin and inside his pants. he doesn’t intend to slam the now half empty bottle down on his counter the way he does, but he loses control and water spills over, and his olive eyes only glare at the puddle that drips over on his marbled floor with something of disdain and increasing frustration.

for all that was holy, he can’t stop thinking of you. even now, with cold water sticking to his skin and poured over his bare feet, wakatoshi cannot get this image of you out of his mind and is rendered powerless to the aching boner that refuses to go away. within just one moment, you’ve seeped into his mind like a parasite that morphs and festers on sin and fornication, plaguing him with your large breasts and plump thighs that sheened with sweat and poured out from beneath your sundress. it’s a hard battle he faces with himself, feeling morally disgusted by the thoughts he finds himself with, and all about a stranger, no less. there’s no way he could be acting so depraved, right? is he a man so starved that the mere sight of an admittedly attractive woman could send him reeling like a damn teenage boy?

once more, wakatoshi heaves a heavy sigh, slouching for a moment with hands clenching the edge of his black stone counter before he rises to his full height. it’ll do him good to at least clean up this spill, and perhaps, he thinks, he aught to keep himself busy — surely then, he’ll forget all about you, and this glaring problem beneath his trousers will forget you too.

thankfully, it’s easier than he’d had hoped to fill the hours of his day. after taking care of his spill, wakatoshi takes to his home gym and continues working out till the late evening, when he showers and prepares himself to settle in with a cup of white wine and a book that he’d bought himself a while back, though only just recently had the time to begin. it’s only so rare for him to be able to enjoy slow days like this between training and volleyball tournaments, and he finds himself at peace with this lull in his schedule. finally, he feels relaxed and at ease, and his stressful situation from the afternoon earlier is far from his mind, until there’s a knock at his front door, and his heart lurches in his chest.

apprehensive, he turns his jade coloured eyes to the smoky glass panels by his entrance, and he feels his tongue turn heavy when he sees you waiting. for a moment, he hopes that you’ll give up if he doesn’t answer, though he immediately feels a bit guilty for thinking that. you’re only wanting to greet your new neighbour and make a good first impression, he considers, and it certainly isn’t any fault of yours the situation he’d found himself in earlier that day. you’re entirely blameless, and it’s really him who apparently needs to mature and grow a bit more than he’d thought. taking a long sip from his glass of chardonnay, wakatoshi builds himself on liquid courage and meets you by his doorway — though there’s no amount of wine that could’ve possibly prepared him for the sight that greets him once he opens the door.

you’re here, but you hadn’t come alone. hiding behind each leg are a young boy and girl who look about the same age and share striking resemblance to your own soft features. heads topped by black, wavy curls, with her tied in pigtails and his cut to his shoulders, there’s curiosity in their dark brown eyes as they appraise him, and he feels almost as if they’re judging him with something that he can’t identify. and you, you smile sweetly at him, your lips painted with a clear gloss that shines golden beneath the lights of his entryway’s chandelier.

“i’m sorry for disturbing you so late in the night, mister,” you offer your apology, and wakatoshi can hear more clearly the distinction in your accent that he’d only briefly heard before. now, as he listens attentively, unconsciously taking in the sultriness of your voice as your words flow from your two-toned lips, he’s certain that it really is a kansai dialect. “i’d just wanted to introduce ourselves since we’d just moved into the neighbourhood.” you lift your hands, that he now notices are not empty, to present a beautifully packaged basket with a little pink bow tying it closed. “and we also brought you these as a gift — a thank you gift, kind of! for having us here with you!”

wakatoshi accepts the gift basket from your hands, trying his best not to focus on the way you tuck your hair behind your ears and beam brightly up at him. standing so close, he’s able to notice new things about you that he wishes he didn’t feel so curious about; like the way you style yourself elegantly, your straight black hair parted to the side, curling the smaller hairs surrounding your forehead so that they lay neatly and perfectly brushed to frame your round face, or the fact that you stand several inches shorter than him, perhaps only barely reaching his chest. he wishes he doesn’t take in the clothes you wear and how they fit your beautiful figure, how your white cardigan hangs elegantly over a beige tank top and khaki coloured pants that accentuate your mature body. he tries, not to notice these many things about you, and so hopelessly fails, as he clears his throat and tries to offer you a polite smile that he hopes doesn’t come off as a grimace.

“thank you for being so thoughtful,” he says, and your smile widens, your eyes creasing around your expression as you respectfully bow.

“it’s my pleasure! i really should be thanking you for welcoming us this late!” theres a timidness to your grin as you lift yourself to full standing once more and you bashfully laugh. “it took us a little longer than we thought to prepare all our gift baskets — oh, right!” your eyes widen on a realization, “my name’s (l/n) (f/n), and these two here,” gesturing to the two children behind you, you bend down a bit to rest a hand on either of their backs. “this here is asahi, and this is makoto.”

the two young children, with your encouragement, bow their heads in greeting to him, with the boy — asahi — quickly returning to hide behind your leg, while makoto continues to stare at him, now with her curiosity unbridled and what looks like an eagerness that roars beneath her brown eyes.

he looks back up at you and offers a bow of his own, ducking his head with the basket clutched to his chest. “my name’s ushijima wakatoshi,” he says his name, and immediately, he hears two simultaneous gasps from the children by your feet. though, at least in this moment, he decides not to ponder too much on the expression. “thank you for introducing yourselves and for bringing a gift.”

you wave your hand in a ‘shoo shoo’ motion and shake your head. “no need for thanks, ushijima-san,” you hum, “really, it’s nothing much, but i hope you’ll be able to find good use for them— ”

“are you a volleyball player?”

suddenly, the little girl, makoto, blurts out a question that causes your eyes to widen and catches him off guard as you both turn your attention to her. she continues to stare up at him, as if awaiting his answer despite you reaching for her hand to gently pull her back. “makoto!” you exhale, a bit surprised, it seemed, as if you hadn’t expected her to ask something like that. though wakatoshi, he doesn’t take any issue at all with her question, and he simply nods his head, once more offering the most polite of smiles he can muster.

“that’s right. i play volleyball.”

you seem to recognize something within the awe-filled gazes of the two children that he doesn’t, because before either of them can get a word out, you’re hurriedly reaching for their hands and making your way down the stairs. “thanks so much again, mr. ushijima!” you call back to him with one free hand, leaving the man standing stunned inside his doorway as you walk away from him. “let’s get along well from now on!” when you think you’re far enough, he thinks he hears your voice taking to astonishment as the little girl whines a complaint — “but mom, we saw him on tv! it’s really him!” and your response heavily pouring with your dialect as you lightly scold her for blurting out so suddenly.

he’s left here, basket in his hand as he hears several gears creaking to their abrupt stops and clanking as they fall apart in his mind. mom? she’d said mom, hadn’t she? with ghostly steps that are far too quiet for a man of his stature, wakatoshi shuffles to his expansive living room where he sets your gift atop his clear glass coffee table, right next to his glass of wine and his book, and collapses into the black suede sofa behind him. you’re a mother? the guilt that consumes him tastes bitter and threatens to crawl up his throat. he sits, hands folded above his lips as his elbows dig into his thighs, and he stays this way for one minute, then two, constantly replaying the sound of your daughter calling you mom. your daughter, your daughter and son, you have a daughter and a son who both call you mom—

wearily, wakatoshi’s eyes glaze over your cutely packaged gift and straight to the glass of wine that sits like a pretty temptation, and cruelly, he thinks of how you are just the same. a beautiful and painfully enticing temptation that will surely render him helpless if he gets any more involved with you. he groans, hissing under his breath as he reaches for the glass and stands up. it’ll serve him better to retire for the night, he concedes, a hand nursing the growing migraine that sits on either side of his head. he’ll finish his glass and read his book peacefully in bed, and for the second time this day, wakatoshi will forget all about you.

except, he doesn’t.

amidst his waking dreams and long night, forgetting you is impossible. how can he, when you come to him here in his bed, the straps of your purple dress falling from your brown shoulders and your breasts pouring out from the thin material? how is wakatoshi supposed to forget you when in his dreams, you tease him with the likeness of a vixen, when you lift the edges of your skirt to show him just how plump and fleshy your thighs and ass are, whispering “do you wish to touch me, mr. ushijima?” in that sultry, silk-like voice of yours. he dreams of the way your eyes would roll back into your skull if he brushes his fingers over that sweet spot between your legs, if his tongue traces lines over your panties until your knees buck and you fall right on top of him. in his dreams, he wants you so much that it’s an ache he needs to fill, until he’s unconsciously fucking his mattress and squeezing his pillows with a vice. his breathing is laboured and tasting of honey as he begs you yes, yes, please, i need you… need you so bad, please i need to touch you—

his climax rocks his body like an earthquake and tears him away from sleep with a jolt, his chest heaving as sweat clings to his skin and his eyes, disoriented, search his dark room for your image before they fall to the soiled mess leaking through his boxers and between his thighs. his damn cock is twitching, still painfully sensitive, and wakatoshi stutters through a gasp as his hips buck uncontrollably, as if chasing some phantom feeling, cum still continuing to spurt from the angry red tip. he reels from pure shock and a bit of morbid amazement as he reflects on his dream, and as he recalls those dirty visuals his mind managed to conjure, he lets out a loud, frustrated cry and falls flat against his mattress. really, is this the man he is? a perverted fool who has inappropriate thoughts and dreams about another man’s wife?

he curses himself, and curses his mind too, as he begrudgingly swings his legs over the edge of his california king and. sleep evades him now, he certainly fears reliving that dream that felt far too realistic, your touches, the taste of you — all far too real that it leaves him shaken. one hand lifts to brush his sweat-matted hair away from his forehead as his eyes disdainfully behold the mess he’s left all over his dark sheets, where his semen sits in a large puddle while there are still drops running down his thighs, and he unwillingly thinks about you once more. those sounds that your voice made in his dream, all those dirty songs and cries of his name that you’d uttered, the way your skin felt so supple and soft beneath his hands as he felt you up and spread your legs apart—

a surprised moan causes wakatoshi to slap a hand around his mouth as his cock twitches in his soiled boxers, still very hard and leaking through the now cold material. no, he decides, he really won’t be able to fall asleep again — not like this, at least. but wakatoshi has practice in the morning, and within all his years of playing volleyball, he’d never gone a night without proper sleep. for the umpteenth time, he groans helplessly, flopping back down on the edge of his bed. he glares at his boner, wishing it would just peacefully deflate and that, really this time, he could forget you and just go back to bed; and again, once again, he sighs, and submits himself to a decision he’s certain that he’ll immediately curse himself for as he pulls out his cock and wraps his fist around it.

he hates himself for it, but it’s so easy for him to build a perfect fantasy of you. one where you’re sitting prettily on your knees and batting those doe-brown eyes up at him through your lashes. his hand squeezes softly around his erection and at first, he moves slowly, choking back each heavy breath of air that threatens to burst through tightly pursed lips. but god, he thinks of the way you’d tease him, slowly tracing your mouth over the tip and leaving a trail of saliva and strawberry flavoured lip-gloss while your manicured nails would trace tantalizingly lines down his thighs. his hips buck impatiently into his own fist and his chest heaves with soft grunts that become more uninhibited as he imagines you finally slipping him into your warm mouth and his very spirit crumbles on the lust that consumes him.

“does that feel good, mr. ushijima?” you’d beseech him, so eager to please as you’d trace your tongue across his leaking slit, collecting the drops of precum that poured out and smear it around your lips. and he’d be just as breathless as he feels in his fantasy, trying and failing to conceal each gasp that evades him as he nods, “yes.. yes, your mouth feels so fucking good.” he’d force you to swallow him whole, pushing your head down to the base until you’d choke and your eyes would water as he’d throw his head back — without his will, his hand moves faster around his cock and fills his dark bedroom with filthy, sloppy noises. “take every inch, don’t you fucking dare spit it out. that’s it, shit…just like that. swallow it all the way down.”

he thinks of how fleshy and warm the back of your throat would feel as you’d gag around him and dig your nails into his thigh, struggling to take even a single breath through your nostrils as he’d mercilessly fuck your face. he’d drag you off him suddenly and slap his cock against those messy lips, and he’d get to admire the way you’d fall apart as your mouth lolls open as if begging him to put it back in. “ohh, such a greedy little slut, aren’t you?” he’d taunt, and a particularly loud, wanton moan rises from his chest as he imagines the way you’d use your hands all while staring up at him. you’d be the very picture of salaciousnes as your hands wrap around his smeared length, teasing the underside of him with your tongue and groaning through your own arousal. he imagines how he’d wrap his hand around your throat as he’d tower over you; he’d have your face pressed right up to his stomach while he’d reach down and grab a handful of your breasts, reeling at how soft and squishy they’d feel pouring between his already large hands before he’d twist your nipples, and you’d whine like a helpless nymph from how sensitive your body would become. “go on, then.” he’d hum, and he wouldn’t give you even a second to prepare before he’d have you choking around his length, groaning as spit would bubble around his erection and pour from your nostrils. “use those pretty little lips of yours. mhm, let daddy feel your tongue on his dick while he fucks your throat.”

and its as he pictures the way your eyes would roll into the back of your head, cheeks puffed and stuffed full as you whine around him that, for the second time that night, wakatoshi cums into his fist. pleasure sears through his teeth and down his spine as spurts of semen explode from his slit and he forgets himself on the suddenness of his orgasm. “shit… ahh— aahhhh, shit!” the spots in his vision and the heat that consumes him from his bone and to his skin, it all coalescences on a pleasure he’d never once felt in his thirty-three years of living. his entire body trembles and his cock twitches against his abs, cum splashing against his sweat-sheened skin and dripping over his skin like hot, molten lava. the afterglow of pleasure is forsaken for the adrenaline that courses through his blood and turns the taste of his tongue to metals untold.

through his bliss, wakatoshi reaches clarity, and is overwhelmed by an intense wave of disgust and repulsion as he glares at his cock so feebly slapping against his stomach; it’s still hard, the damn thing, and every cell in his body craves ravenously for more, more, more…but he refuses. absolutely refuses to repeat what he’d just done. for christ’s sake, you are a mother — a wife to someone who you return to each night, who gets to hold you and touch you, to whom you may give your heart and gentle affections to. tonight had been a mistake, he tells himself; an irrational lapse in judgement, and come morning — he means it this time, really! truthfully! — he’ll forget all about this sin, and forget about you. you’ll be nothing more than a new neighbour who moved in with your family, and your interactions will be few and far between, enough that he’ll be forgiven for the immorality that he’d let himself fall to.

but the devil, oh, the devil, bless his soul, he has his tricks, and he loves to play.

wakatoshi hasn’t at all forgotten about the previous night, but he pretends that he has. on the cusp of dawn, when the rising sun sinks her warm fingers through his tousled hair, he focuses on his beating heart and his laboured breath as he jogs through the park and back through his gated community. he pretends that he didn’t jerk off to his new neighbour and envision her doing the dirtiest things to him, and he almost succeeds.

almost.

he nearly swears when he walks out of his front door the next morning and bumps into you at the earliest hours of dawn. there you are, where you shouldn’t be — not this early in the morning before the sun had risen, when he’d made sure to leave early enough that he would’ve avoided this situation exactly. it’s summer, isn’t it? why, wakatoshi wonders, had you woken up so early? could he really be do unlucky? he sees you and your two children, and he’s now certain that they must be twins, and you’re too busy fixing their backpacks on their backs and fussing over their hair and faces to even notice him awkwardly frozen by his doorstep.

“you both have everything you need, right?” your voice reaches him on tones of faint worry and anxiousness as you lean down over your children, unwittingly showing off your rack for him to see between the button up blouse you wear. even from where he stands, it’s such a clear picture that he feels his head spin as his eyes remain glued there. “you’ve got your toothbrushes and toothpaste? lotion? shampoo and conditioner?”

your son, asahi, tries to escape your busy hands, though it doesn’t dissuade you very much it seems. “mama, we already have everything!” he grumbles with a slight pout, “we’ll be alright.”

a quiet sigh falls from your lips as, finally, you relent, kneeling down to hug your two children. “i know you will be, asahi,” you whisper softly before pressing a kiss to each of their foreheads. “promise me you’ll both be good and have lots of fun, alright? can you send me a text when you get there safely?” both the twins nod their head yes before placing a kiss on either of your cheeks, and wakatoshi finds the sight endearing as he sees your smile brighten on tenderness and motherly affection. a part of him feels as if he’s intruding on what should be a family’s private and treasured moment, something precious that should only be seen by your husband and not the creepy neighbour next door. his stomach turns in on itself and, like a demon he can’t escape, guilt and shame crawl over his neck.

“bye mama!” makoto is the first one to hop on to her bike, waving her hand excitedly and full of energy despite the early morning, while her twin follows in a far less eager manner as he waves at you too. “i love you!”

“i love you mama..!”

“i love you both, you two!” now standing at full height, you wave both your hands as both asahi and makoto start to pedal away. “make sure to have lots of fun!”

before long, both your children have gone down the hill and you’re left alone with a wistful smile, and wakatoshi finds himself desperate to go before you have the chance to notice him standing. his normally sure feet fail him on a moment as he stumbles in his hurriedness, and in his attempt to steady himself, his hands fall slack and drop the very large, very metal he’d bottle been carrying with a loud clang! that causes your head to whip around. he meets your gaze, shame bubbling in his gut and he wishes that lightning would just fall from the sky and take him from his misery. what happened to avoiding you as best as he could? he wonders, what happened to leaving at the crack of dawn and being on his way before he’d need to lay eyes on you again so soon after last night?

wakatoshi is so embarrassed that he could die.

“ah! good morning, mr. ushijima.” you, oblivious to his plight, greet him politely, bowing your head. he notices the way you absentmindedly pull your cardigan over your sheer night dress, the chill from the morning mist having caused you to shiver a little. your nipples have turned hard and poke through the thin white material, and are very, very visible without him needing to try and see them. he purses his lips, sighs through his nostrils and averts his gaze, focusing instead on retrieving his traitorous waterbottle and praying that his grey slacks do well to hide the problem that now begins to grow beneath them.

“good morning, mrs. (l/n.)”

he tries to focus on his feet as he descends down his front steps, ensuring that he doesn’t lose his footing once more rather than looking at you. and yet, he can’t help the awkwardness that he feels as every muscle in his body seems to have tensed up despite him having gone jogging to warm himself up. you remain none the wiser, something he’s thankful for, as he hopes and prays that he can get past you and on his way before you notice his strange demeanour.

“do you normally get up this early?” you ask in a polite attempt at making small talk, to which wakatoshi offers you a slight nod as he gives you just enough of his attention.

“yes,” and, admittedly, he’s also curious, and he returns a question against his better judgement. “do you?”

laughter bubbles up from your lips as you shake your head. “goodness, no!” you chime playfully, lifting your watch to see the hour; 5:39. “it’s too early for me, but asahi and makoto are about to start summer camp for their club — i’d only been seeing them off today.”

he offers an understanding nod, similarly recalling the days of his youth where he’d also attended summer camps during elementary through high school. right now, he considers would be a perfect time to end this conversation and see himself away now that he’s heard what he wanted from you, but something in him urges him to stay, to talk to you more and spend some time with you. he knows he’s not the best at small talk, is all too aware that his social skills are terrible, at their worst, incredibly abysmal, but he wants to try — against his better moment, and he’s reminding himself all the while that you’re a mother and a married woman, but despite that, he wants to talk more with you. perhaps, and it’s a delusion that he forces himself to believe, he’d want to be friendly with you. it’ll certainly be easier than perpetually avoiding you when you’d done nothing wrong to him, after all.

“are you—” fuck, his voice sounds scratchy as he clears his throat, blush creeping over his cheeks. “are you um… headed back to bed then?”

as you ponder his question, he gets to take in your morning appearance. your hair’s been brushed and tied back with a little white bow, and your lips look air brushed and as soft as rose petals. hugging your sides beneath your cardigan, you shiver, and wakatoshi notices the way you slightly lean back and forth on your heels. “i guess it’d be a waste to try and sleep again now,” you hum with your gaze turned towards the horizon, where the sun begins to peak over the far off mountain on soft blue touched by golden hues. “i’ll need to be ready for work in a few hours.” you turn your gaze to him with a cheekish grin, and his heart skips a beat. “why not start my morning now, right?”

oh. oh, this is bad. for the second time, waktoshi tries to clear his throat with a hand covering his mouth and averts his eyes from your beaming face. “i’ll let you get to it then,” he says, his voice sounding so small and timid to him that he feels his mind reeling and his tongue turning heavy. “enjoy the rest of your morning, ms. (l/n).”

“thank you, ushijima-san! you do the same, okay?” for a second, he lets his eyes find yours, and they dazzle him within just that moment that he has to look away. he leaves as you re-enter your home, and it’s the only thing he can do to squeeze the straps of his bag to rid himself of the jittery feeling racking through his spine. his heart beats too loudly and he feels dazed, as if he walks on clouds and forgets how to even breathe.

he doesn’t— no, he can’t be; his feet break from the slow pace as he breaks into a jog, each muscle within him burning cold and begging for release from the thoughts in his mind. there’s no way… he doesn’t like you, does he? why else would he have dreamt of you the way he had? why else would he feel so nervous and timid when you stand face to face? the morning dew tastes like liquid mercury and sets through his veins on a violent rush as he runs, as far away from you as he can get, hoping to immediately expel you from his thoughts, to escape this hold that you seem to have locked around him.

he laughs at himself, helpless and bewildered; is he really nothing more than a foolish boy? at thirty-something years old, ushijima wakatoshi is developing a crush on his married neighbour — even the mere notion to him is so adamantly ridiculous that he could throw himself off a bridge. he feels embarrassed, utterly and completely mortified, and it’s for his sake that he tries to push the notion far, far away, so that, at least for the day, he wouldn’t have to think about it. he suppresses these budding epiphanies in the face of his teammates, who tease him for being seven minutes later than he usually is and tries to ignore the fact that it’s all because he’d stayed and talked with you. he tries to forget about you through the drills and practice rounds, lets the heavy beating of his heart turn its turmoil into adrenaline and sweat that seeps through his thin shirt. wakatoshi falls into routine and this time, certainly, this time, he’s moved on. the feelings that soaked through his core on the early morning’s dawn have disappeared and melted away on summer’s blistering heat, and he thinks that finally, he can let go of that ghost that’s haunted him from the night until morn.

but noon, as it always does, succeeds the dawn, and there you are.

the burn in his muscles turns to a seething fire that he fears will consume him right where he stands, amidst the people around him going about their days while he remains glued in place. his heart, oh the poor thing, it beats on the fallings of a thousand horses and threatens to rip right from between his rips and spill itself out on the pavement. wakatoshi wants to run, he wants to take flight and escape into the burning sun, but his feet fail him on the jolts that run through his aching muscles when your eyes, oh, he imagines he sees the world in them, find his amidst the sea that threatens to swallow him whole.

“ah? mr. ushjimima!” your voice calls out to him a surprise he thinks he feels on tenfold as you approach the man. god, how many hours has it been, even? he’d only just seen you this morning, isn’t it too soon for him to be put through this never-ending crisis? he doesn’t feel as if he’s ready, as if he can look you in the eyes while trying to force away the memories of last night, or the turbulent mess that dances and ties red knots around his throbbing heart. “i didn’t expect to see you here too.”

neither did i, he thinks helplessly, though he offers a single words that sounds choked up in his throat, “practice.”

“oh!” you chime, your eyes gazing behind him to where the large sports gym stays only so many paces behind — if he really wants, wakatoshi could easily pretend that he has to return if only to escape from you, but he doesn’t — for some incomprehensible reason, his tongue betrays him with the phantom taste of you.

“well,” you smile, and laughter spills from your lips as you tuck your hair behind your ear and meet his eyes from behind your lashes. “i didn’t think i’d see you again so soon — and at my place of work, no less.”

i didn’t think i would, either, wakatoshi thinks to himself, and then your words rewind in his mind and everything halts. your place of work? the question spills from his lips before he can even think to stop it. “you work here?”

you nod with a hum, gesturing with your palm to the academic buildings that span the expansive lot. “i teach vocal composition and contemporary piano courses here.”

“ah.” of course. wakatoshi is bewildered; how unlucky could he be? for the married woman he fantasized about to be working at the very same university that his team frequents for volleyball practice? he takes a moment to curse the heavens and the cruel gods within them because certainly, they must find humour in his agony.

like lasers, wakatoshi’s eyes become too hyperfocused on you all at once. there’s sweat gleaming down your neck and dipping between your breasts and trailing wet marks down your v-line as you, absentmindedly, fan at yourself. he takes in the way your eyes scrunch together and your lips part with a heavy breath, a sigh that, to his ears, sounds lewd and filthy, and on that single breath, his world runs like a viscous furnace. he’s like a moth drawn to each and every detail about you that swells on the summer’s heat and as he stands here, everything consumes him — the slight pout of your full, puffy lips, the display of your breasts that look so big that they could pop out of your low button up dress at any second, those big, doe-like eyes of yours that are so close to rolling back beneath the agonizing heat — every bit of you accords into a vision of immeasurable pleasure and lust, and then you look at him, head tilted back and panting ever so slightly, and it’s enough and too much all at the same time.

“it’s awfully hot today, isn’t it, mr. ushijima?”

wakatoshi thinks he’ll lose his mind.

something breaks like a faucet and pours scalding water all over himself as he feels his grey sweats becoming too tight, too confining, just like the situation he finds himself in and he decides that now would be the perfect time to leave. “i have to head back.” he nearly stutters over his abrupt sentence, and he sees the slightly startled look that comes over your sun kissed face. again, he feels guilty for fooling you, for lying straight to those innocently pure eyes that are none the wiser of the effects you have on him. in a pathetic attempt that he doubts you’ll even believe, he tries to dissuade you with a simple, yet suffocated, “practice is gonna start soon.”

“oh, of course!” his lie seems to work, and wakatoshi hopes that the relief that locks inside his throat isn’t too obvious as you turn your feet to the opposite direction. “i didn’t mean to hold you up, i’m so sorry!”

“no, it’s alright.” it’s not, but what is he supposed to say? “i’m sure you’ll need to prepare for your next class soon.”

you giggle, hiding your smile behind your hand, and your eyes crinkle at the corners. “you’re right. it was a very nice surprise to see you again, mr. ushijima!”

as he makes his pathetic escape, wakatoshi prays that you don’t find him weird after this, but perhaps if you’d have any inclination of what he’d done, what he’s about to do, would you look at him in disgust? of course you would — he asks himself, how could you not? his feet can’t take him to the secluded gym fast enough as he forsakes everything about himself, purely fueled now by this burning desire that’s carnal in its awakening. the bathroom door locks and the bolt slams with a loud click, the ac languidly blowing through this confined area not nearly enough to quell the fire blazing across his skin. it’s immoral and utterly deprived what he considers doing, and the shame he feels is bound to be an eternal scar. yet in this moment, with his cock so painfully hard and pressing uncomfortably against his thigh, leaking so much precum that it stains through the thick material of his shorts, wakatoshi doesn’t care — not for the ungodliness of the act he’ll commit, nor for the consequences that could follow him. not now, at least. as he releases his throbbing member from its binds and wraps his fists around it, it’s the farthest thing from his mind as he thinks about you. again, it’s you.

the wind in his lungs is knocked out from his mouth as he rapidly pumps his dick. in an instant, the empty bathroom is filled with the squelching noises that bounce and echo off the tiled walls, only contested by his laboured breaths and groans. his knees threaten to lose their ground, and he desperately clutches the cold edge of the sink, the chill consuming his palm almost jarring to the aggressive heat that pours all through him. the image of you with your head tilted towards the sky, of your lips hanging open on salacious cries of his name as he envisions you on top of him, it all drives him to the brink of insanity.

wakatoshi thinks of your body in that tight button up dress blue dress. he thinks of how elegant and put together you looked, the picture perfect woman, and how he wants to tear apart only the top pins open and let your breasts fall out so that he could take them between his lips. how would you sound, he wondered, if he rolled your nipples between his teeth, sucked on them with his tongue until they’d turn hard and perky? would you cry out his name just like you always do? would that sweet voice of yours sing out on torrential pleasure as you’d call out to him, your thighs squeezing around his waist while your hips buck and wriggle over his cock? that innocent façade you wear, how quickly could he make you abandon all reason for desire, until you begged him with your words of honey for him to destroy you?

his fantasy falls apart and rips through him like a comet as cum explodes from his throbbing member and spills through his fingers, ever so narrowly missing his pants and spurting out on the tiled floors. it’s non-stop, this horrible, horrible mess that keeps on growing, his body jolting and knees feeling weak and he struggles to hold himself up because he can’t stop coming, so consumed in his fantasy that the moans he fought so hard to contain now ring freely inside the empty bathroom as his hand continues to milk every drop that jolts out of him. you’re the only thing in his mind, consuming him with hellfire as pleasure winds him up and tears him apart over and over again, and he knows he needs to stop, he’s being too loud, too careless, he could get caught, but god, does this taboo feel so good that he loses control. his depraved mind wonders on you catching him, cumming all over his hands like a depraved beast, all because of you?

there’s a daze that overcomes wakatoshi, heat fading to a warmth that fights for some kind of structure to hold on to as he, breathlessly, leans over the sink. his eyes look down between his legs, the length of his cock still twitching in his palm and cum smeared around it and webbing along his fingers. it doesn’t yet come to him, the reality of what he’s done, and its awakening is slow and steady, until it crashes all around him with the last wisps of adrenaline trickling out of his system. for a long time, he stares at his hands, at the mess smeared in his palm and all over his pants, and he meets his stare in his reflection. he stares, but doesn’t comprehend as a minute becomes two, and then five, and when it’s been far beyond ten, his body flushes over with red-hot embarrassment as he clenches his teeth and drops his head.

wakatoshi, filled with shame, wishes he could throw himself into the sun.

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