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#but sometimes....sometimes on nights like this when I'm all alone i think about you
shirayuricky · 12 hours
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(oh you sound so busy 😓 and a month is so close omg may uni be take it easy with you, fighting!! i'll look foward to it then I'm sure it will be so good 🥹)
fluff but hard thoughts (???)
this one is REALLY long .. i'm sorry !!
well, it's so embarrassing and a bit weird / cringey actually but i thought about it out of sudden and can't get it off my head pls help (pleasee ignore this if u don't like it im so embarrassed so i apologize if u think it's too weird 😅
rlly ah why i thought abt it 🫠
this is abt gunwookie btw i love him smmm
for reference i wanted to add those pictures of him wearing that snorlax onesie but i don't know why i can't add images here
reader lives alone on her apartment so she's always spending her free time doing the things that makes her happy. she rlly enjoys having these self-healing times but still feels kinda lonely sometimes, that's when she ends up falling asleep cuddling her GIANT teddy bear she got on one of that big claw machines. only when she feels lonely, she tells herself. she is good on her own... but who is she lying to? she hugs that bear so tightly every single night, that's her best friend. she didn't got close to anybody at college and the routine is tough, that fluffy bear is the only one that always hear the feelings she holds deep down her heart and she feels comforted by that she even named him and takes it all around the house, when she's watching movies, cooking and baking or just being. one night she got so worked up after watching a romance movie with unexpected hot scenes that she just couldn't sleep thinking about it. suddenly she felt her body heat up while still holding tight to her bear cause she thought hugging him again would help her sleep faster even tho it didn't. instead, she started slowing grinding on it searching for some kind of relief. when she realized she was whimpering against the bear's soft cheeks and couldn't stop riding it so she started crying she felt so needy, sad and hopeless at the same time. she felt asleep bc of all the crying and her heart breaking she just wished her teddy bear could hug her back and take care of her.
deep in her sleep she felt a really soft touch, caressing her thighs, her waist and then hear face. she tought it was a dream, but when she felt a small kiss on her cheek she woke up to the sight of the prettiest guy she's ever seen and he was smiling so prettily and sweet but still he was a stranger, obviously she would scream. her high pitched scream almost broke the cute boy's heart. why was she screaming like this after telling him i love you every night. he was teary-eyed.
"WHO TF ARE YOU? HOW DID YOU GOT IN MY ROOM YOU PERV?" she was freaking out, who wouldn't though? she was so disturbed by the vision of a unknown -tall as hell- man IN HER BED wearing fcking bear pajamas. who is tryna prank her?
he tilted his head to the side in confusion and said "it's me gunwookie"
she blinked like five times before widening her eyes and again asking herself if this is a prank, how could it be, no one knows about her shameful friendship with a teddy bear, so how could he knows the name of it? he must be a stalker.
"what are your intentions? why are you... stalking me? how do you know me?"
and he looked even more confused than her
"i just wanna take care of you, i love you so much too, it was you who brought me here and I'm so thankful that you treat me so well" he smiled again
something sparked on her brain and she looked around her room searching for the giant teddy bear until she noticed he was there anymore... it can't be...?
"wait... are you my wookie bear? what am i saying? that's impossible..."
he just nodded his head and smiled again
"are you for real??" and gunwook confirmed but seconds later his smile dropped
"why were you crying earlier? i got so worried" and he pouted sadly
oh so he is really my bear, she thought
"I was feeling too sad and lonely gunwookie :( that's why"
"is there something i can do to make you better?" he asked and she just jumped on him giving the biggest hug ever, she needed that
"just stay here with me please gunwookie"
"okay i won't go anywhere" and he hugged her back
after a moment he speaked up again "I'm so sorry"
"why are you saying that, wookie?"
"did i hurt you? you were near me doing those sounds and then you started crying, i don't really understand what happened.. it sounded like you were in pain.. did i do something wrong? please explain me and i promised i will apologize properly to you and repair any mistake"
oh this is gonna be a really long night
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(oh 🍄 anon my tests for this week has ended and now i'm back to this. and i got your back! i found some pics of gunwook in a snorlax hoodie. if you're in anon, you can't share images, just links!)
so continuing on from where we left, you explained that you are not in pain, just desperate for pleasure. gunwook seems a bit clueless but when he gets what you're trying to mean, his cheeks blush in pink. he lets you take the lead, he doesn't want to hurt you. he just wanted you to feel satisfied in your sleep.
you ride his cock, bouncing up and down, as you interlocked both of your hands together with his hands. and his blush just gets more pink. he's getting flustered from the pleasure, sweet and soft moans spilling out of his lips.
after the both of you cummed, you tidied yourself up and gave gunwook a simple aftercare, solely made of cuddles. "sorry for that, i was just...needy." you apologised. "y/n, that's alright, at least you're...happy now." gunwook responded, wrapping his arms around you.
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babybearnini · 10 months
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Ugh.
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myname-isnia · 8 months
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It's that "spend hours sobbing my eyes out in bed for several reasons, including but not limited to the fact tomorrow is Monday, the fact my social battery has been completely drained and won't recover anytime soon, the fact my landlady is due to show up tomorrow evening and will likely piss me off again, the fact I've had the urge to write since Friday and ended up not writing even a single fucking word, the fact exam pressure keeps rising and I still don't know what to do with my life after I'm done with school, and the fact I'm both completely overwhelmed and so terribly lonely at the same time" kind of Sunday evenings
#I'm so fucking exhausted. both mentally and emotionally#I spent the night at my grandma's and then my friend came over and spent the night the following day#and I don't count it as a day off unless I don't go anywhere or see anyone#so you could say I didn't really have a weekend#idk how I'll go to school tomorrow. I think even one person talking to me would make me fucking explode#and yet. despite all that. I feel completely alone#because no one I know irl can provide me with the comfort I so desperately need#spending time with people is all a big distraction from my depressive thoughts#and the second everyone leaves.. I feel more alone than ever. so completely and utterly lonely#I try to fill the void with my imagination. lose myself in my oc verse. and it helps sometimes#but when I'm not feeling particularly inspired or can't some up with anything good... I just end up feeling worse than I did before#everything I do is to distract myself from my mind because the second I'm left alone with my thoughts..#they go to a very dark place very quickly#like now. when my wrists itch and I can't stop crying and know full well that I'll go to bed in a few hours wishing to never wake up#and I'm left with nothing but a gaping hole in my chest. aching for arms to fall into and a shoulder to cry on#despite knowing it's not something I'll ever have#so I grit my teeth and bear it and hold on. for whatever reason#I don't know why I haven't give up yet. it's all arbitrary reasons like 'my friends would be sad if I was gone'#even in matters like these all I end up worrying about is what other people would think. not my own feelings#well. nobody has anything to worry about concerning me anyway. I'm too much of a coward to do anything#if I wasn't I wouldn't have lived to see my 14th birthday#and yet 4 years later I'm still here. wishing for an instantaneous way out that didn't involve me raising a hand against myself#because I really don't know how long I'll be able to take all this for. I don't have much left in me#I'm holding on by a thread. one too close to snapping. I'm scared of how few reasons I can come up with to keep going#I don't see a future ahead of myself. no college or uni or job or relationship or anything that might be worth staying around for#any attempts to imagine what life would be like after graduation are just.. dark and bleak and empty#I haven't got a single clue what I'm going to end up doing. maybe that's why I see so little worth in trying to figure it out#nothing in this world will make me truly happy. I don't have a future#and if I don't have a future... I don't have any reasons to stick around any further#if only I wasn't so much of a coward
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nexus-nebulae · 8 months
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damn i actually had a pretty good streak there of not having bad insomnia days. that's pretty impressive for me like i haven't really had one since early January
#usually i get them like. maybe once a week#i think it's partially my new meds?#got some meds for anxiety and oh my GOD i finally have something that WORKS instead of fucking lexapro AGAIN#literally all my doctors would go LEXAPRO!! even though it's never fuckin worked for me#BUT I'm on remeron now and it's WORKING#and i made sure to make my Scheduled Pill Time as something i could almost never miss (my mom getting home from work)#bc it's around the same time every day within a half hour range and since i have an outside reminder it helps me actually form a habit#i cannot form habits without outside help it's just. nearly impossible for me#and the meds do make me kind of tired but not enough that I'm fucking constantly sleeping like when i was on seroquel#i can actually fucking THINK through this tired it doesn't just completely take me out 100% of the time#I'm just Slightly Sleepy instead of a zombie#and it helps remind me that I'm tired bc usually i don't notice any physical feelings#(is there a word for that??????? i tried googling but it constantly gave me alexythemia which is not feeling EMOTION)#(when this is like. i can't feel tired or hungry or pain sometimes. or at least i lose the ability to be aware that I'm feeling it)#but anyway the new meds make me just tired enough to remember i need sleep#and i mean. i am sleeping slightly early but 8:30 isn't that bad i don't think#at least i have time to. you know. do stuff between the hours of 5-8 (the only hours my mom is home + stores is open)#and tbh staying up alone all night isn't. the best. for my mental health#i don't handle being alone well. and Pulse is being a dick about system barriers :P (/lh we know why it's needed rn)#we have. a deep deep fear of isolation. like not just being alone but Not Being Able To Call For Help At All#at least with phone/computer we have One outlet for help with emergency services so that helps slightly#we worry a lot about. what would happen. if we had a medical emergency. and nobody knew bc i couldn't contact anyone#mostly. the fear of Something Bad happening and not being found until hours or days later#i like being awake during the day tho bc theres Way More Options for help#and like the fear of Not Being Found doesn't go away like. ever#but at least when people are awake and around its lessened a lot#the fear increases exponentially with each possible second added to the wait time#so knowing that it's just One hour until mom is home and can check on me is a lot better than Nobody's Awake For 5 More Hours#(and my mom is deaf too so i can't just like. scream for help to wake her up)#(not that i can physically scream at all anyway my voice just cannot handle that anymore)
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pomefioredove · 5 months
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only one bed room
summary: it's the sdc and everyone's staying over at ramshackle but, oh no! you're one room and one bed short. being the generous (or gullible) soul that you are, you agree to share characters: all sdc competitors, separate additional info: fair warning I have no replayed book 5 in a while, reader is yuu, reader is gender neutral, rook is rook, most scenarios end in cuddles. can be interpreted as romantic or platonic (nix vil and rook's part)
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Deuce Spade
"I don't mind sleeping on the floor!"
it's a big fat no from Vil. waking up sore and tired is unacceptable, and will affect his performance during practice. he will use the bed, end of story.
you offer to take the floor or one of the many stiff and uncomfortable couches in Ramshackle, but he refuses
what kind of aspiring honor student would he be if he kicked you out of your own room?
so, yes, you end up sharing the bed
he's a perfect gentleman about it
he insists on sleeping on the complete opposite end of the bed
to give you your space, of course
not because he's nervous
obviously it doesn't pan out- he's kind of a messy sleeper, and on the first night you wake up with him sprawled on top of you
you decide not to wake him up
you'd been thinking about saving for a weighted blanket, anyway
Ace Trappola
"you better not hog the blankets,"
takes it like a champ, though he might be screaming internally
he already sleeps in a dorm with three other guys- this can't be any different, right?
it totally is
sharing a bed with someone? someone he likes, who he isn't just forced to live with for convenience?
he's not sure how to tease you about this one without coming off as nervous himself
so he just shuts his trap about it (for once) and accepts his fate
in the end, it's no big deal for a player like him
he ends up hogging the blankets, though. hypocrite.
Kalim al-Asim
"YAYYY SLEEPOVER!"
he means exactly what he says
not a care in the world
all he's thinking about is how fun this is going to be! just him and his favorite Ramshackle prefect (Grim heard the news and will be staying in deuce's room to avoid any cracker mishaps)
Kalim, admittedly, is not a creature of great thought. he tends to be dictated by his feelings, and he can be a little selfish sometimes
so when Jamil pulled him aside and asked him to just buy another bed for ramshackle, he ignored him entirely
why would he do that? the situation is resolved, and everyone's happy!
well... not everyone, but Kalim's happy!
he stocks up on Vil-approved snacks, insists you two braid each other's hair and stay up late into the night talking with no one to remind you to go to sleep
(he tried to invite Jamil and got the door slammed in his face)
this arrangement lasts approximately one night
when Vil sees the dark circles under your eyes, it's over
you are confined to the couch, and Kalim is forced to sleep alone
Jamil Viper
"okay,"
really. he's totally fine with it.
besides the fact that he doesn't want to cause any more trouble, he's shared beds with his siblings before. no big deal
he just wasn't expecting to wake up with you snuggled against him
but this is fine
totally fine
he's barely conscious and it's early morning, still dark, the time he's used to getting up at
Vil has things covered, right? he can stay here for a little while longer. it would be awkward trying to get up without waking you
it feels nice having something all to himself for once
he smirks, imagining how jealous everyone else would be:
the beautiful, kind, intelligent ramshackle prefect in his arms? oh, the looks on their faces would almost make this whole thing worth it!
but in the end, he decides to say nothing
he wants to keep you all to himself, after all
for just a little while longer
Epel Felmier
"ain't no way I'm sharing!"
that's what he says in his head, anyway. but it's late and he's worn out from practice (and being shouted at) so he just sighs and accepts his fate
of course Vil would make him do it. it's probably because he's the smallest, isn't it?
you can tell he's unhappy with the arrangement (not that he's making much of a secret of it- he's grumbling under his breath all evening)
he starts coming around to the idea when he wakes up holding something warm
his heart jumpstarts and he nearly panics before remembering where he is
and then he realizes the thing he's holding is... you. somehow the two of you had ended up spooning during the night
but, more importantly... he's the big spoon!
he's almost tempted to wake you to announce that he, in all his manly glory, had naturally assumed the most masculine cuddling position!
(yes he sounds ridiculous. just let him have this one)
he lets you sleep, though. just a little more won't hurt anyone, right?
he's okay with the arrangement after that
Rook Hunt
"I will do it!"
Vil isn't even able to finish his sentence before the vice housewarden is practically jumping up and down
pretty much everyone breathes a collective sigh of relief; a volunteer! thank the sevens. otherwise, this could get awkward...
of course, he quite intentionally ends up with you in his arms
but not for any nefarious purpose, he insists!
he's a light sleeper, and can be stirred by any sudden noise or movement
you appeared to be having some kind of nightmare
it reminds him of a small animal caught in a trap, struggling for its life. he can't bear to see it- it's cruel to let a poor creature go on suffering before you can make the kill
of course, instead of killing you (thank the sevens), he decides to comfort you
he presses your head against his chest so you can hear his heartbeat, and he runs his fingers through your hair until you calm down.
then he keeps you there, just to be sure you don't have another bad dream
if you gave him permission, he would gladly be all over you in seconds. kissing up and down your shoulders, caressing every perfect inch of your body, whispering words of admiration
but he's perfectly content just cradling you for now
hopefully, you will continue to have these nightmares and give him excuses to do this again
Vil Schoenheit
"don't argue with me,"
initially, you just gave him the bed
maybe you were afraid of him; maybe you like him; maybe you just wanted to avoid a conflict altogether
either way, you spent the first night on the terribly uncomfortable floor, and trudged through Ramshackle like a zombie the next morning
Vil was feeling guilty watching you
what? he's not a monster
and he's a leader, which means he has a responsibility. and you had so graciously invited them all into your home...
fine! he'll share. he insists, even
when you try to argue, he shuts you down, repeating all that stuff about responsibility and hospitality, blah blah
and he doesn't want the team manager dead on their feet
arguing with him is pointless, so you just agree
he wakes up with you against him, sleeping peacefully
now, if it were you clinging to him- he might have had a good chuckle. can't keep your hands to yourself, prefect? I'm just that irresistible?
but the way he's holding you, the way his arms are so tightly wrapped around your waist, the way he's so clearly pressing you against him...
he hates to admit it, but you're an elegant sleeper. it's almost cute
the tension is relieved from your face, your breathing graceful and steady, and your perfect lips open just a sliver...
he is a perfect gentleman, and would never dream of doing anything without your explicit permission, but for one shameful second he thinks about how easy it would be to kiss you
... and then he quickly puts those thoughts aside and tries to get back to sleep
he doesn't want any dark circles, after all
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chocogoldie · 2 months
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Love Slip
bakugo katsuki x fem!reader
genre: fluff
contains: established relationship, a bit suggestive at one point
short continuation of Nip Slip 18+
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It's been a while since the two of you started dating. Approximately three months, two days and forty-three minutes. But who's keeping count?
During your time together, you've come to learn many things about the blond ticking time bomb:
One, he's a very organized and clean guy. He has to-do lists separated into categories in his phones' notepad app, a strict schedule he follows everyday to stay in shape — not that he needs it, but getting to brag about being able to lift you up certainly strokes his ego — and an extremely neat room that stays neat no matter what. He brushes his teeth three times a day, eats healthy meals, has a proper skincare routine and smells of sweet caramel even when he's dripping with sweat coming back from the gym or from an intense training session with your classmates. ln short, his hygiene is top notch.
Two, he's a little bit of a gym freak. Not that you'd ever mind, you even find it hot most of the time, but sometimes he gets provoked by his other gym buddies, mainly Kirishima and Kaminari, to try out all sorts of exercises with you on his back. Push-ups, squats, even yoga poses, literally anything they can think of just to see if it'd work. You've fallen on your ass more than he'd like, or care, to admit. Not because he wasn't strong, no, but because you cannot concentrate on holding onto him for the life of you, always getting distracted by the way his muscles flex and how he grunts from exertion. It's a sight for sore eyes, strands of hair sticking to his forehead while his usually spiky hair dampens and falls down beautifully, framing his face. It reminds you of your first night together, so of course you wouldn't be able to pay attention to anything else. You don't mention how incredibly good he looks in his compression shirts. Yes, he bought multiple after you oggled him up and hinted at loving the way they fit muscly men.
And last but not least, he's clingier than anyone you've ever met which is a stark, and quite frankly adorable, contrast to his sharp appearance. You're working on some assignments? He's bringing you food and making himself comfortable on your bed while putting on a weird dating show on the TV, occasionally checking up on you to remind you to take breaks. You're going for a quick grocery run? He doesn't waste a second to throw on whatever clothes he can find and join you, walking around the store with the shopping cart and imagining you two as a married couple well into your marriage shopping for your little family. You're taking a bath? Scooch over, he's helping you wash your hair and back. You're feeling sad? He's bringing your favorite ice cream and listening to you vent while gently running his hands over your face, back, thighs, arms, anywhere to soothe you. He cradles your face when your sobbing gets louder, pressing his forehead against yours to help ground you into reality, to snap yourself out of your worries by murmuring “I'm here, baby,” or “I got you”. All in all, he's a big softie for you.
He often shows his affection through his actions, but sometimes when the two of you are alone and in the silence of your bedrooms, he pushes his embarrassment aside and spills his heart out. He vents about hero work, about how he doesn't think he's good enough, or rather, nice enough to be a hero, always ending up berating people to hide his true intentions and words. It's something he's always struggled with, but he's been working on it constantly with you, his friends, and in therapy. He tells you everything about what happened during his time in highschool, how the man literally died for a minute, and how much that impacted his life onwards. You listen intently and comfort him through it, crushing him into a tight embrace to remind him you're there for him as well and that you'd do anything to make him happy. He tells you that your presence is enough.
He whispers soft “I love you”'s each night before you two drift off to sleep, letting his hand rest on the small of your back underneath your shirt, needing to feel your skin against his to be able to sleep. The warmth your body provides gets rid of his reoccurring nightmares and allows him to sleep soundly throughout the night with you by his side. And he very quickly realizes he never wants to lose you. Ever.
Because he might've slipped into having a little crush on you, but he willingly chose to fall in love with you.
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© chocogoldie 2024. do not translate, copy, or repost.
a/n: a little smth i came up with while waiting for the poll to finish :3 hope u enjoyed it! not proofread
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tititilani · 3 months
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I can't stop thinking about if Simon had taken Edwin's offer
Like Charles finds Edwin in the hallway as ever but this time there's another boy there too, cowering against the wall next to him. Maybe the dollhead spider doesn't care about Simon, too busy focusing on its favorite target, so Charles is left standing in the hallway with Simon when Edwin is taken.
They get out of hell, but Edwin doesn't confess due to Simon hovering behind his elbow. He doesn't want to confess his emotions in front of his killer, who he probably hasn't even properly figured out how he's feeling towards yet.
The Night Nurse is pissed they came out with an extra soul but Niko's same loophole still applies and Simon stays.
"This is Simon," Edwin says when it's all said and done, finally introducing the boy that's been hiding behind him since the door closed. "He was a...classmate of mine."
"He saved me," Simon says, looking up at Edwin moony-eyed and Charles knows that look and something settles heavy in his stomach.
"Glad to have ya, mate," he tells him even though the words taste sour. This other boy knew Edwin when he was alive, the thought is slightly terrifying to him.
Simon settles in fine with the agency even if the agency feels a little crowded now with five people in it but he continues to moon over Edwin and Edwin just...never tells anyone how they actually knew each other. He reasons it just doesn't matter, that he can't find the right time, whatever.
Charles never really warms up to him, though he tries to hide it, but he sees the looks Simon gives Edwin, a soppy smitten look that is somehow worse than anything Monty or the Cat King ever tried with Edwin because of all of them, Simon arguably knows the most about like Edwardian courting. That, like Edwin, Simon has also survived hell. Charles hates the idea that someone could potentially understand Edwin more than he does.
He hates it so much that nothing further happens between him and Crystal because the idea of Edwin being left alone with Simon bothers him so much. He sees Simon adjusting Edwin's collar one (1) time and it makes him feel sick.
And then there's the fortune-teller.
They only go to her sometimes for cases because she never fails to freak Charles out but her prophecies tend to be accurate like 60% of the time which is pretty good for a fortune teller. She looks at the two of them at the end, because it is just the two of them for once, and then looks just at Edwin.
"How kind you are," she says, the words a compliment but the tone snide. "To house your killer. Pray tell it doesn't come back to you."
"What." Charles says. "The fuck."
Charles is furious, of course, and it takes Edwin a long time to talk him out of smashing Simon's face in with the new cricket bat.
"He's like me," he insists in that quiet but firm voice. Charles wants to scream that Simon is nothing like Edwin - that he doesn't have a fraction of Edwin's kindness or pissiness, that his blue eyes are not nearly as beautiful as Edwin's green - but before he can even open his mouth, Edwin continues. "He...He likes boys, Charles. He likes me."
Oh. Oh.
Charles stares at Edwin who is looking back at him, trying and failing to hide the fact he's terrified, and Charles doesn't give one shit that Edwin likes boys because he's his best mate forever. He's still pissed that Simon is apparently staying but he has to hug Edwin at that. "I'm still pissed you didn't tell me about him," is all he says, swallowing back the other words he wants to say.
Charles grows even more paranoid about Simon being around, who has to get used to the fact that Charles takes to swinging his cricket bat ominously every time he comes within ten feet of Edwin. He finds out that adjusting clothing was an Edwardian courting thing and wants to break something. The very idea the very person who killed his best mate is now trying to put the moves on said best mate pisses him off.
It also makes him think of numerous times Edwin had readjusted his collar or jacket in the past and it makes his non-existent stomach flip.
Eventually, Simon decides he's ready to move on to his after-life and Charles keeps his hands from fisting when he looks at Edwin with that same soppy look. He knows Edwin has forgiven Simon by now but Charles has always been better at holding a grudge and he knows what is going to come out of Simon's mouth before he even asks. He knows that if Edwin says yes, he won't stop him.
Charles also knows that if Edwin does, there is no way he is going to find any kind of his own afterlife.
"You could come with me," Simon says hopefully and the moment after is the longest in Charles' life.
"Thank you, Simon," Edwin says kindly and Charles has to keep himself from crying. "But I have no interest in going anywhere without Charles."
He steps back - away from Simon and back towards Charles. Ears suspiciously pink, Edwin links their hands and they watch as Simon follows the Night Nurse.
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arminsumi · 10 months
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★ Satoru's undercut
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★ Synopsis : He fears the hairdresser like it's the dentist. One day, he accidentally gets an undercut style. He would have thrown a tantrum if it weren't for your positive response — because all he really cares about is that you enjoy his haircut.
★ Content : soft fluff, romantic tension, some mutual pining??
★ Library ★ reblog for a cake slice! 🍰
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"This will ruin my life..."
"It will not ruin your life."
"I'm gonna die!"
"You're not gonna die."
"Yes, I'm gonna die! They're gonna cut my head off."
"They're not gonna cut your head off."
Satoru had a haircut appointment which you were accompanying him to as per his desperate demand request. Suguru was there also, helping Shoko with something technical on her phone. He laughed when Satoru was whining to you.
The four of you were on the train; Suguru and Shoko stood tightly packed with their backs facing other people as if they were the group shield. And Satoru sat next to you, clinging to your arm as if he were a kid on his way to the dentist.
"Don't laugh. You know I feel the same about hairdressers as people feel about dentists!" he pouted.
"Satoru, you're so weird." you said.
“I'm not!”
You shook your head at him. Satoru grumbled.
"No one understands me!" he said dramatically.
Suguru commented, "I do understand why you dislike hairdressers, Satoru; most of them don't cut your hair how you want."
Shoko nodded and chimed in, "— yup, and you usually leave with a fake smile and say "oh wowww... I love it!" but you actually hate it." then she went back to frowning at her phone with Suguru.
“My hair is important, I can't afford to have a bad haircut." Satoru said.
"Haha, you make it sound like if you have a bad haircut it could cost you millions." you laughed.
Satoru sat up straighter and spoke seriously, "It may as well cost me millions!"
You didn't understand why Satoru was being so dramatic.
****
The hairdresser looked at you, Shoko and Suguru and then wondered why so many people were accompanying this grown man to his haircut, as if he were about to get a root canal for the first time.
Suguru whispered into her ear, and she blushed at his alluring charm like anyone would.
"He's scared of bad haircuts... so please do your best, he has a girl to impress. See that one sitting there?” Suguru pointed to you, “Yeah, that's the one."
He accidentally flustered her, and he smirked about it when he returned to you and Shoko.
"Suguru, your head looks as big as a bubble about ready to pop." you joked, noticing his smug demeanor as he took a waiting seat with you.
"I think I just flustered the hairdresser on accident." he said.
Shoko chuckled, "Is it ever an accident? I think you do it on purpose — oh, Y/n, I think Satoru is trying to get your attention. Give him some comfort."
Satoru recoiled when the cold blade of the scissors touched his neck, and looked distressed when the hairdresser touched his hair.
You knew he was highly sensitive to touch, especially his hair — he hated people touching his hair (reason X for hating hairdressers). The only person who was allowed to touch his hair was you. Suguru and Shoko needed a "valid reason" for touching Satoru's hair.
But you could comb your fingers through his hair any time, any place for no reason and Satoru would go limp with a smile on his face, completely melting for the act of affection.
Sometimes when it was just you and him alone together in his apartment, especially during his sleepless nights, Satoru would lay his tired head on your lap and ask you to play with his hair. Each stroke of your hand mellowed him out. He especially loved the feeling of your fingers running through his hair when it was fluffy and long.
So really, he feared not the hairdresser or even the bad haircut, but the fact that it might be too short or not fluffy enough for you to enjoy. It had to be just right. He had to maintain his fluffy hair for you.
He wanted to make sure that when you saw him at every party and get-together, you'd think "Wow, Satoru's hair looks so good.". He wanted you to compliment his hair and make him feel good and blushy.
And most of all, he just wanted to please your eyes. He wanted you to be starstruck when you looked at him.
So, a good haircut was critical.
****
Satoru's panic calmed after you took the empty seat next to him. He watched in admiration as you struck up a friendly conversation with the hairdresser. She turned out to be kind. She was an apprentice (picture nervous Satoru stiffening his shoulders when he learned this) and her mother owned the establishment next door.
Satoru was mostly quiet and focused on his reflection in the mirror. He squinted in suspicion when the lady brought out a hair buzzer.
But then you distracted Satoru by asking about what the four of you were doing after this. He stuttered a bit, half-looking at the hair buzzer and jumping a little when it turned on.
You talked so much that Satoru was completely distracted, and the lady could work. Though, it was hard, because Satoru didn't really specify what he wanted... so she winged it.
She thought hey, this guy would look good with an undercut. So, she cut an undercut for Satoru, and looked at you and smirked. His girlfriend will appreciate it, she thought as she looked at you and Satoru talking with hearts in your eyes.
You weren't his girlfriend. But you may as well have been. The two of you were anyways soulmates since kindergarten. Sure, you went away for five years to work abroad, but the link between you and Satoru wasn't broken by the distance.
****
Satoru gasped and nearly fainted when he saw how short his hair had been buzzed at the bottom. His neck felt exposed and suddenly it felt more drafty.
"What the—"
"— oh, you look hot, Satoru." You said.
He immediately shut up and went red in the face.
"Thanks, yeah it looks... yeah." Satoru hesitantly complimented the hairdresser's work.
She beamed proudly and wrapped up the haircutting session. Satoru took off the black dressing gown and stood up and shimmied the white hair off his pants.
"The cat is shedding." you joked, making Satoru grin with sealed lips.
You picked a white strand of his hair off the back of his shirt when he stood in line to pay at the checkout. He didn't notice. Such a cute boy.
Satoru was just grumbling to himself about how he'd need a scarf or turtleneck to compensate for his "practically naked" hairstyle now.
You stared at his undercut and felt your heartbeat get a bit frantic.
Then you kept staring as you left the barber shop.
Satoru wrapped an arm around your shoulders out of habit, as if he were your boyfriend, so the hairdresser felt sure that you two were dating and said something as you two left that really made you and Satoru blush;
"Your girlfriend loves it." she winked.
"I'm not his—"
"She's not my—"
"She sure does! Thanks for everything, see ya." Shoko cut off you and Satoru from responding and shoved the two of you out the door.
****
That comment lingered in the back of yours and Satoru's minds for the rest of the day.
On the train home, you grazed your fingers over Satoru's undercut and it elicited the funniest reaction out of him; he shivered like a cat that had just been scratched in a sweet spot.
"Haha, does that feel good?" you asked.
"It does. But my neck feels naked." Satoru shrugged.
Oh my god, do that again, he thought. It felt so good.
"Aw, then Y/n should wrap her arms around your neck." Suguru said in a flirtatious murmur.
Shoko laughed and propped a cigarette between her lips.
The four of you got off the train, you parted ways. Suguru and Shoko lived in different places and had to wait for their respective trains to take them home. So, you said your goodbyes and went with Satoru.
When you and Satoru moved out of your university housing, you both decided to live on the same street. You can say it was for X reasons, like oh it's a good neighborhood or oh the prices are great or oh the apartment walls aren't thin... but let's be honest; you and Satoru just didn't want to live too far from each other. You were inseparable, even cry-babies whenever the two of you were separated.
Satoru was always clinging or touching you in some way – hanging off your shoulders, resting his chin on the top of your head, draping an arm around you, holding your hand, snuggling into your neck. The closeness brought him more comfort than his own bed. He even claimed once that he could fall asleep on you more readily than on his bed.
Sometimes he was just shy of kissing you when you two met up, or when he knocked on your apartment door some mornings. His lips would graze over yours by accident in some circumstances, and though the two of you would laugh it off, there was an unmistakable spark in the air between you and him.
****
“Do you like it?” Satoru asked.
“I love it. You look really good.” You replied.
Satoru smiled to himself, hiding his face in your lap.
The TV was playing the most recent episode of that trashy romance soap opera – the episode where the two love interests kissed in the rain. Satoru stared hard at their lips connecting, and thought of why he hasn’t attempted to kiss you again. He didn’t want to ruin anything, so he kept his confession to himself even if it was obvious that he liked you.
You noticed he went a bit silent as you ran your fingers through his hair. He made a soft, long groan when your fingertips tickled up the back of his neck and over his prickly undercut.
“You sound like a cat.” You laughed.
His eyes were closed, brows relaxed into a sleepy arch. Whenever he got drowsy in your lap, his lips would part and show his two front teeth.
****
After getting an undercut hairstyle, Satoru was living in heaven with how much attention you gave his hair. Every day you’d find an excuse to play with his hair.
It made his heart beat harder and his mind go blank whenever you touched his neck and hair. He’d get shivers and close his eyes each time you did it, and would even stop talking mid-sentence.
In time it grew out. He refused to go back to the hairdresser, and instead insisted that you cut his hair for him. At first, he attempted to do it himself, but then he wimped out as soon as he held the scissors to his hair.
So, after he practically begged you on his knees and voiced his fear for the hairdresser, you agreed.
Cutting Satoru’s hair was a whole event. You invited Suguru and Shoko over to your apartment, and the four of you were laughing in the cramped bathroom together.
You had no idea what you were doing, and the online tutorials didn’t help much.
Satoru was dramatic when he thought you were cutting it too short or jagged, and he was so very picky that it drove you nuts to the point of putting the scissors down and leaving. But then he hugged your legs and apologized cutely, so you came back. Suguru and Shoko had to get it on camera because it was pure comedy.
“Alright, fairy princess. How did I do?” you asked Satoru.
He checked himself out in the mirror. His jawline and shorter hair drove you a bit wild, it was hard to contain yourself.
“It’s okay.” He replied cheekily.
“Just “okay”?! I put my soul into this!”
He grinned. “I’m just teasing.” He said, “I like it. Now let’s test it out.”
You looked confused. “Test it out?”
“Play with my hair.” He explained, “And tell me you like how it feels or else I’ll cry.” He added dramatically.
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© arminsumi
I do not permit the copying/reposting/translation/plagiarism of my works. Do not steal what I've worked hard to create.
This is fictional work.
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parfaitblogs · 2 months
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hii, can I please ask a blurb of post prison spencer and shy reader? And sometimes he teases her but not out of malice? Like when she talks about something and doesn't look at anyone in the eyes to focus on what she's saying (that's what I do) and he moves his head in her sight so their eyes meet?
spencer reid x shy!reader. fluff/comfort. 0.6k words. post prison reid. use of "sweet girl". 
a/n: i wrote this in like ten minutes tops because there is something sooo special to me about comfort spencer. i literally loved writing this. i was giggling and kicking MY OWN feet. i'm all for angsty!doesn't know how to accept love after prison spencer, but i also need us to start the movement of fluffy!literally worships the ground you walk on after prison because you show him so much love and support he doesn't know what else to do spencer. i love him and you for this request thank u
spencer reid who likes to listen to you talk when he gets out of prison, because talking sometimes seems like too much for him. who will sit down with you on the couch that is so perfectly moulded for your two bodies, and let you talk your entire way through whatever movie he agreed to watch for you because you always talk better when your eyes are fixated on a screen.
spencer reid who will wordlessly nod along when you start talking about your day when you're in bed together, using your rambling as a distraction from the things that keep him awake at night. whose hands will probably be running through your hair while you talk animatedly with your hands, eyes staring up at the ceiling.
spencer reid who will go into the bathroom with you because "showering alone is so boring" and "i need someone to talk to!" who will then sit outside the shower and listen to you talk some more, a shower curtain separating your two bodies as you stare at the tiled wall in front of you, hands preoccupied with shampooing your hair. spencer reid who will sit with you in his lap in the study, arms around your waist. who will answer your questions about prison because you say them with such a softness he learns he cannot keep secrets from you. and there are stars in your eyes that tugs at his heart strings every time something he says upsets you. whether it be the things he did to survive or something as mundane as his daily routine that was so vastly different to your own. and because you never look at him, but when he talks you do, and he would do anything to keep your eyes fixated on him for longer.
spencer reid who will then ask you a question about your own time alone whilst he was in prison, watching as you avert your eyes almost instantly from him, staring at whatever you could pretend was interesting behind him. who’d entangle a hand in your hair as you speak, you not thinking anything of it until he is tugging on it to pull your hair back – so, so gently, because you had learned that even after prison, he treats you with the care one would treat chinaware. spencer reid who will raise an eyebrow when you stare at him silently in confusion, convincing you to keep speaking, only to slide his hand from your hair on the back of your head to your jaw, fingers tilting your head towards him because "you keep looking away from me, sweet girl. stop it."
spencer reid who will be so confused when you stammer out a response, losing all ability to speak because he's looking at you like that and his eyes are boring holes into your own, and your heart is fluttering and you're flustered and he realises why you never look at him. and he thinks it is so funny because "i've been your boyfriend for how many years?" and you protest that he must be an awful profiler if he's never noticed this before. and so he will poke your sides until you're a laughing mess, and then he will get all serious and hold your face in place and tell you to continue, rewarding you with a kiss on some part of your face every time you manage to get a sentence out, until the reward is so nice you're rambling like you usually do, but this time you're looking at him and he is so, so in love with you and he has to actively fight the urge to kiss you every half a second. and screw prison and screw trauma, because for a brief moment he decides it was all worth it to get you right here, right now.
your reblogs and replies are always appreciated dearly ♡
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jiminrings · 3 months
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four seven eight, phase 3 (1)
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pairing: jungkook x reader
wordcount: 9k
glimpse: jungkook's secure when it comes to being a husband and a dad, knowing that he grew to love being both after everything you've been through. what he isn't so secure about is the possibility that it's everything he'll ever be.
alternatively, jungkook pursues his dream of making a film, even if it means making your rival his main lead behind your back.
[ part one, intermission, part two, intermission 02, finale — complete series masterlist, from phase 1 to 3 ]
[ the return of 478jk (derogatory), major angst, fluff, the weight of devotion except jk's mean this time, flashbacks to phase 1 (im so sorry), the both of them r in an identity crisis, The Return of yoongi, yearning and the ache of unfulfillment all over, eventual redemption ]
notes: FINALLYYYYYY after a long wait, phase three is finally here :-) the og era of 478 is a time i'll truly never forget so now that i'm putting them in Several Inconveniences again, i look forward to creating another era with u citizens!!! mwah thank u love yew
as always, lmk what you think <3 send in feedback n love to my askbox anytime!!
Jungkook likes to be needed.
He likes to be needed fully, sometimes even all at once to the point that every mention of his name makes him think that his assistance is needed. He wants to be needed like the way you rummage through your old film canisters that you dumped in a large drawer just to retrieve a specific picture of him; needed like the way you sigh in relief when you find said roll.
Jungkook wants you to seek him in a crowd, past all the banners of your name from your fans and lanyards of your staff, and ask specifically him for a cold water bottle he keeps in his bag for you. As a matter of fact, he wouldn’t even mind if you ask it from him indiscreetly — he wants to be needed, even if neither of you are alone with each other.
He’s used to the feeling of being needed because it’s practically routine for him. The way Jungkook loves you has changed and evolved (needlessly to say for the better) through the years, and although he tries to look for the balance in it all, there’s a tiny, tiny part of him that wonders what would’ve happened if neither of you changed.
It’s perhaps the change in seasons, or maybe it’s the build-up of the stupid little things Jungkook’s seen recently; one of those things happen to be a ridiculously long thread by your fan, who happens to also be a fan of Yoongi, assuming that your marriage with J*ngkook (that’s exactly how they typed his name out) is ending, hence your recent collaboration on a brand deal. Jungkook, of course, has half the mind to go on his secret stan account and snark at said poster before reporting, but even then, there’s an itch in his mind that he can’t scratch.
Whatever weather it is outside nowadays or whichever stupid little thing pisses him off online, Jungkook can’t shake off the nagging question of what if in his mind.
When Jungkook cleans your water bottle every night for you to take to set the next day, he wonders if the two of you would still be together if only he didn’t rush to your place by the exact second your month-long break ended, right when he takes off the rubber from the cap to clean the ridges thoroughly.
When he blowdries your hair (even if you tell him not to bother) after you begrudgingly take a shower because you can’t sleep in bed after going outside and not washing up the second you come home, he wonders if you would’ve kept loving him even if the very incident with Sora didn’t push him to change, right when he sees you close your eyes while his hands scratch your scalp.
When Jungkook sounds out syllables to Hwayoung and tries his very best not to baby-talk her (he can’t help it sometimes) as he recounts his day to the toddler, he wonders if you would’ve even had a daughter with him if he stayed the same silent lover that he used to be, right when she parrots your name back to him with a smile.
“Young-ie’s probably starting to need me less and less,” he sighs to you with a pout, eyebrows knitted in concern as he gives you his rookie version of a blowout he’s still trying to perfect. Jungkook can’t flick his wrist the way professional hairstylists do, just in the same way you can’t pick up why he’s brought up the thought out of nowhere.
“How could you say that? She’s the biggest daddy’s girl ever,” you chuckle, placating him with the truth despite your initial confusion. If you weren’t fully awake awhile ago, you certainly are now — mostly because Jungkook springs up an unbelievable idea, and partly because whenever he tugs the brush at your hair, your whole head comes along with it.
“Not really. More like biggest mommy’s girl, you mean,” he defensively scoffs, apologizing quickly when he hears you wince at a particular experimental tug he does on your ends.
“Should we wake her up right now and let her decide?” you murmur, your eyes locking with his on the mirror.
Jungkook, at his most comfortable state, wearing ratty oversized pajamas and glasses on his face that he’s yet to update the prescription on, has never felt more competitive in his life.
“Well we could-…”
“I was joking,” you deadpan, the silence between the two of you getting long enough to the point that you suddenly find yourself laughing, effectively getting Jungkook out of his daze.
“… I knew that.”
You may have had an inkling about Jungkook feeling slightly off before in the past weeks, but all it took was his random, unprompted question tonight for you to solidify that seed of concern in your chest.
Jungkook likes to be needed, even if he can’t say the same that you need him as much as he thinks you do. He thinks it’s a perfectly rational feeling to want to be needed by both your wife and your daughter, and although he’s not as receptive to being needed as much by anyone other than his family, the feeling still stays the same.
He has all the time in the world. You’ve enabled him to do so even if he’s the one mainly looking after Hwayoung while you worked, but despite that, Jungkook doesn’t feel needed enough.
There’s an itch in his mind that he can’t scratch with neither your constant affection nor Hwayoung’s grabby hands. There’s an unplaceable, agitating urge in Jungkook’s chest to put a pause on everything and be back to who and what he used to be, despite your affirmation that he is needed.
There’s that tick going on in Jungkook’s brain that amplifies everything he does to seem wrong; that makes him grumpy when he wakes up to prepare you breakfast whenever you had early shoots, that makes him purse his lips when his daughter asks him to watch the same movie with her for the third time in the week.
All of the uneasiness in him, however, disappears when Namjoon, the acclaimed screenwriter that he has for a friend (whom he actually met through you), calls him up with an offer that Jungkook can’t refuse.
It’s an offer that releases the ache from his bones, makes him want to blowdry your hair better, and watch the same movie over and over again with his daughter — but Jungkook postpones saying it to you when you come home and want nothing more than to be in his arms, and for Hwayoung to be in yours.
( ♡ )
Jungkook could wait more.
He convinces himself that he can because although there’s a date set for the short film that Namjoon’s pitched for him to produce, it hasn’t grown yet to become the unstoppable force against Jungkook’s immovable object: family.
He knows he needs to tell you eventually and that he’s not really asking for permission in the first place, but there’s a sense of guilt in him whenever the thought of breaking the news to you comes into mind. He’s not nervous per se because he knows you’re as supportive of him, if not more, like he is with you.
It just happens that it’s within the fine details that Jungkook truly feels hesitant to tell you that he has to leave for awhile.
Jungkook could wait more, and although that means he has to deal with the occasional voice in his head telling him that lying to you (even under the guise of protecting you) has the capacity to bite back at him, he manages. He swallows down the words whenever you unintentionally give him an opening to tell you about the news of him going abroad, and just settles for holding your hand.
He could wait more because telling you now wouldn’t be the right time, now when you’re on your day-off as you’re close to wrapping up your current project before moving to the bigger, more exhausting one; not now when you have a time of reprieve to spend with your family before taking on the biggest project of your career to date.
Jungkook hums to himself as he looks down on Hwayoung who has a tiny shopping cart to herself, her strikingly round eyes that she got from him (Hwayoung looks more like him the older she gets) looking up to his own.
“Hi, pretty girl,” he lulls, mumbling loudly enough for only her to hear. “You’d understand if appa left for awhile, right?”
“Left?” she questions, holding up her left hand at the mention yet she reels at his query, brows furrowing as she seems to digest the question. “Why?”
“Yup. That’s your left. Good job, baby,” Jungkook praises, the knot in his throat growing when he looks to his daughter who looks confused at the sudden query, again, that came out of nowhere. “You would, won’t you?”
Hwayoung hums because she doesn’t quite understand, but that’s the thing that Jungkook fears most — she’s young and smart and although he wants to use those facts to his advantage, he realizes that Hwayoung being the age that she is in now could also prove him to be dispensable.
Jungkook likes being needed, but he’s much too afraid of the possibility that Hwayoung won’t even recall him as soon as he leaves.
Your husband’s snapped out of his reverie when you go downstairs with a skip in your step, the tell-tale mischievous tone to your voice already predicting that Hwayoung would make the two of you chase after her in the backyard all day. “What are the two of you plotting again?” you ask playfully, hands on your hips as Jungkook chuckles at the sight of his two girls.
“Nothing!” Hwayoung giggles, the word slipping out of her seamlessly as she even shakes her hands fervently, accustomed to what you mean exactly with your tone of voice. She’s young and bright and you see so much of Jungkook in her, even if Jungkook would argue otherwise.
Jungkook’s dazed this morning with the way his gaze locks in from far away, his bottom lip bit between his teeth more often than not as if he’s always at war with himself.
“You okay, Kook?”
“Mhmm. Couldn’t be better,” he hums half-heartedly, his lips grazing your temple as he guides you to sit down on the carpet with him. “You finally slept for more than eight hours. That’s good,” he says as an afterthought, the pauses in between his words growing in distance as his gaze is fixated on everything but you.
Jungkook looks at your daughter who’s now pushing Miso around the house in her shopping cart, and while your cat (who’s always seemed to hate your husband) looks more than pleased at being played with, she meows to Jungkook and only at him with a hiss at the end of her spiel as if in warning — as if Jungkook is guilty of something that only the two of them know about.
Almost as if out of everyone in the room, it’s only your cat who knows that Jungkook’s lying.
Jungkook can wait, but he’s certain that he can’t wait any longer because if his brain is unoccupied for long enough, he’ll start to hear Miso cursing at him through her yowls.
“Hwayoung doesn’t look like she needs you any less,” you say gently, your line of sight following Jungkook’s as he tenses at your words.
“Oh,” he sighs, jaw grinding down to a halt. “Right."
Your words seemingly came out of nowhere, even if the both of you know deep down that they’re influenced by his impulsive thoughts from last week.
“You can say the same for me,” you add, not as an afterthought, but as a lesser-known fact that Jungkook seems to forget every now and then.
There’s a weight in his chest because all of a sudden, Jungkook can’t wait anymore. The itch in his mind has already been scratched too much that it had already bled and scabbed.
There’s a weight in his chest that reminds him he can’t wait anymore, because in hindsight, the weight of him and everything that comes with him settles on his shoulders.
Maybe, Jungkook doesn’t want to be needed as much.
( ♡ )
Jungkook drops the news on you while you’re folding laundry.
He was meant to go for sincere but the way the words leave him, right when you’re in the middle of folding Hwayoung’s pajamas that she’s about to overgrow in the soonest, it sounds as if he’s been dying to tell you; now that he has, he sounds beyond relieved.
“Namjoon offered me a script,” he announces, taking the pajamas from you to put in his pile as he sees your eyes widen, the remnants of the heavy mascara they used on you on set awhile ago highlighting your surprise. “He wants me to produce.”
“What?” you punctuate, tilting your head as you try to make sense of what Jungkook’s saying. You know he’s speaking and you’re familiar with said words; you just never expected for them to be compacted in the same sentence, meaning the way that he makes it out to be. “Kim Namjoon, as in the producer for In Terms of Eternity?”
He chirps at that, posture straightening as he tries to jog your memory. “Yeah. You’ve worked with him before and introduced us, then turns out Jin’s also a friend of his and-…"
“I mean I know Namjoon and that you’re friends with him, Jungkook,” you interrupt, trying to reel yourself in as you’ve lost your focus trying to fold Hwayoung’s clothes and talk to your husband at the same time. “But I didn’t know you were that close for him to ask you to produce something for him.”
Jungkook doesn’t completely crash from the high he’s in over finally telling you the news, but there’s that spike that flashes briefly over his face, the frown on his lips letting on more than he shows.
“What’s that supposed to mean?"
You sigh at the impossible position the both of you are in, the words that try to line themselves up in your temple being no match to the way they translate out-loud. “It means nothing. I’m just… surprised that he’d ask you to be a producer for his script, that’s all. It came out of nowhere.”
Jungkook recoils at that, a stubborn brow raised as he tries to keep his composure. “Because you don’t think I’m capable of being a producer?”
“That’s not what I’m saying,” you inhale sharply, gripping a random article of Hwayoung’s clothing beside you to pace yourself. “Namjoon’s.. big. He’s established, and well, you’ve never become a producer before.”
“And you have?” Jungkook digs, even if it’s unnecessary to do so, and the way his face falls at the forthcoming regret that creeps up to him lets you know that he thinks so too.
“Jungkook,” you try again, quirking your lips to the side as you try to manage with the pace he’s set you up on. “I’m just surprised, that’s all. This is all new to me. All new to you, even. If anything, it’s nice that Namjoon trusts you a lot.
“He does. We’re close,” he nods, clearing his throat as he feels that the both of you could move on to the other phase of the news you had interrupted him at. “As a matter of fact, we’re taking it on a global scale.”
Jungkook doesn’t get why your face falls.
He doesn’t get why your shoulders rise and fall, not in relief, but out of controlled tension that threatens to pour over.
“What?”
“The script. The film,” he smiles, trying to get you to finish his sentence and connect the dots together but to no avail. “It’s… it’s — we have to film in the US for a few months.”
“What?” you repeat, the knot in your throat tangling up more and more hesitance in you the longer it stays there.
“I said, we have to-…”
“No, I heard what you said,” you interrupt, jaw clenching tightly as you try to grasp everything Jungkook has said.
You don’t get why Jungkook’s smiling.
You don’t get why he’s completely at ease and only in confusion as he sees you piece everything out.
“Then what’s the matter?”
“Kook, all of this is new. Everything you’ve just said is and will be new,” you chuckle humorlessly, running your hand through your hair in frustration as you try to relax. “I’m happy for you, believe me, but Jungkook, what you’re saying is serious. It’s a lot to take in,” you pause, eyes wide as you repeat the words to yourself. “You. Producing. In the US, of all places, a-and for months.”
There’s not one exact emotion that runs through you because the longer that Jungkook looks at you, ecstatic, while you’re weighing what he’s just said like a bag of bricks — you feel even more conflicted.
Your husband wrings his hands together, nervously smiling at you as if he’s asking for permission, but the both of you know that his mind’s already set. He thinks the opportunity of producing a short film that’s been drafted by his friend is a once-in-a-lifetime thing, eager to take off even if he’s had no experience at all in the industry.
“I don’t know, baby. It’s just been so long since I got this excited and alive, y’know? It’s a nice change of pace and I get to do something nice-…”
“Isn’t being with your daughter nice?” you ask abruptly, unable to mask the conflict that’s been brewing in your mind ever since Jungkook pulled you aside to talk. You feel hesitant; disconnected even from wrapping your head around his wording.
Even convincing yourself that you’re just spent from working sunrise to sundown doesn’t work. No matter how hard you try, Jungkook’s tone remains as is.
“Y/N,” he sighs, lips in a tight line as he screws his eyes shut. “Don’t start.”
“I’m not starting anything, Jungkook,” you grit, crossing your arms in defense. You feel guarded more than ever, not because you’re the one whom he’s pertaining to, but because your Hwayoung is involved and you won’t sit around for it. “It’s just that when you put it like that, it sounds like taking care of Hwayoung is a chore.”
You used to be sure awhile ago that you were seeing double because in between memorizing scripts and going from schedule to schedule without any time to rest in between, you’ve been worried sick because Jungkook hadn’t texted you the whole day. You were shocked enough to come home to your daughter playing by herself downstairs (with Miso watching her the whole time), even more-so when you saw Jungkook engrossed in a highly-enthusiastic phone call.
Jungkook sighs as if talking to you completely exhausts him, pinching his nosebridge before muttering under his breath. “Like you’re one to talk.”
“Excuse me?” you blink in surprise, tilting your head in sheer confusion. You’re about to shrug it off but he does that thing again, the one where he almost rolls his eyes at you but realizes it at the last minute.
“Nothing.”
“Say that again, Jungkook.”
“My god,” Jungkook groans, throwing his head back. He runs his hands through his hair frustratedly, sucking in a rushed breath. He looks straight at you when he gives his grievance. “I’m just saying! Why do you get to live out your dream but I don’t?”
“This is my job,” you bite back instantly, the second it took for you to digest his words being enough time for him to groan again. “If it were up to me, do you think I’d work six days a week? Do you not know how much it kills me to stay away from my family?”
You’re at a loss for words, the tiny bit of insecurity you have being dug up once again. You feel guilty because you actually don’t — you know to yourself that you still dedicate so much of yourself to Jungkook and Hwayoung even if you work full-time.
Jungkook chokes up a laugh in front of your face.
“Then quit your dream if you’re so miserable.”
Your jaw clenches quickly in annoyance, unable to retain the disbelief that builds up in your chest. “My dream is my job! It’s why we’re living this life in the first place, Jungkook! Your dream is this project that was pitched to you like what, two weeks ago?”
“Can I not live my life the way that I want to?” he asks exaggeratedly, eyes wide in defense. “Why am I only your husband and why am I only Hwayoung’s dad? Why can’t I go to the US a-and try things out? Why can’t I be free from all this even for just a while?”
Your mouth falls apart at that, your moment of shock simultaneously being Jungkook’s instance for guilty. He wants to reel it in right then and there, but the small part of his pride grows to hold him back.
“Do we hold you back that much?” you whisper, the headache that has been building in your head since this morning shrinking to the size of Jungkook’s words. “What are you getting so angry for? I’m not saying no. I’m asking you why you’re so hellbent on suddenly leaving to do this.”
A large part of you, if not all, feels more disappointed than angry. Hwayoung has not and should never be an afterthought for the both of you yet Jungkook brings her up with you like mere variables.
You can grasp the fact that being a parent is a full-time job like yours yet what you can’t get a hold of is your husband’s apprehension; his sudden need of pursuing something beyond your family.
“Because I’m scared, Y/N,” Jungkook whispers, exhaling heavily. “I’m scared that this is all what life could ever be for me.”
It’s only when you’re completely silent that he comes back to the severity of his words, the tension that’s been building up in him breaking the moment that you break eye contact with him.
“I’m sorry for being your wife.”
“Baby, that’s not-…” Jungkook tries to correct himself, hot on your heels as you get up from your seat on the couch. You’re not even speeding up yet he catches you just as urgently, the hold he has on your arm doing little to put you at ease.
“And I’m sorry for making you a dad.”
“Y/N, sweetheart, I’m-…”
“You should do this project if you really want to,” you quip, back still turned to him as you enter the bedroom. Jungkook noticeably stops in his tracks, the furrow in his brows fading because you’ve put him on whiplash.
“What?”
“You’ve held down the fort while I was out being the breadwinner. It’ll be nice for you to do your own thing,” you smile tightly, eager to sleep on the whole thing just so you don’t stay hung-up for too long.
“What about Hwayoung? What about your film? They want it to be an entry for the Academy, right?” he asks in concern, different from the worry he had awhile ago when he thought you were against him leaving.
You nod, easily shrugging despite the weight on your shoulders. “I’m her mom, of course. She’s gonna come first. And for the film, I think I can still do it. I’ll juggle them both if I have to.”
Jungkook nods, eyes set on the floor. He didn’t think this far at all.
“Do you want to hire a nanny? I know a friend.”
“I’ll pass. I don’t trust nannies.”
There’s an overwhelming silence that engulfs the both of you, the white noise machine in your nightstand unable to fill it completely. Jungkook looks at the ceiling while you look at Hwayoung who’s sprawled in the middle of your bed, clutching Miso like a teddy bear — she already fell asleep waiting for the both of you.
“I didn’t mean what I said awhile ago, I’m sorry. It came out the wrong way,” Jungkook apologizes after some time, hand darting out to hold yours while you only hover above your vanity, taking off all of your jewelry except for your wedding ring.
“When do you leave?” you ask, still unable to meet his gaze.
“Next week,” he clears his throat. “When do you start filming?”
You nod, coming into terms that Jungkook would leave no matter what you say. “Next week.”
You’re arranging the covers when your husband tries to hold you again, voice strained and rushed. “Y/N, I really am sorry. I love being your-…”
“Shh,” you interrupt, pursing your lips. “Hwayoung’s sleeping.”
( ♡ )
You asked for a day off.
You’ve rarely ever asked for them throughout your entire career because you were built on the mindset that at the end of the day, you’re also an employee no matter what gig you land. Be it the cameos you used to book with Yoongi or the titular characters you take from studio after studio, you’re still the employee who had worked her way up fairly.
You didn’t ask for it during that instance when you fell sick after back-to-back shoots because you didn’t want to waste anyone’s time. You didn’t ask for it when you woke up with the type of fatigue that settled in your body no matter how hard you closed your eyes or laid your head against the cushions.
You’ve never asked for it for your sake, but you’ve asked for a day off now because Jungkook’s leaving for a place you can’t come and go to as you wish.
Unlike your house or the hotels you book for him and Hwayoung to be at whenever you have to film out of town, Jungkook’s out of reach. He’s one call away, granted that your timezones match up and there’s a connection strong enough for it to continue without a hitch. He’s far from your grasp and he will be for months on end, and you don’t think you can ever stomach working on the same day he’s leaving.
“Are you seeing me off at the airport?” he asks during the car ride, voice audible enough for only you to hear and not Hwayoung who’s sprawled across both of your laps, sleeping soundly with her plushie that resembled Miso.
“I will, but I don’t think I can see you off near the gate. I can only manage up to here,” you answer honestly, willing yourself not to break down even if the both of you are still in the car, away from any prying eyes of the media that lurks outside. “So can Hwayoung,” you add, a large part of you being grateful that she’s asleep when Jungkook has to leave so neither of you would hear her cries.
Jungkook sees that hesitance in you, the same kind that softens him into fragments.
“It’ll only be for awhile, okay? Just for a few months,” he smiles tightly, rearranging his backpack next to him, the keyring that held Hwayoung’s second-favorite toy (not the ultimate favorite because she won’t ever let him take it) clattering loudly. “I love you,” Jungkook murmurs. “Do you know that?”
“Mhmm.”
“Say it back.”
You refuse to do so because saying it back feels finite, perhaps even forced, because although you love Jungkook, saying so at the moment only weighs you down as reality sinks in. “This is gonna be easy for us, right?"
“It’s not like we’ve never been in a similar set-up before,” he shrugs, the pout on his face casual as he tries to level with you.
“But this is different, Jungkook. This is beyond different. We have Hwayoung and now, we’re both working,” you stammer, chest rising and falling as you wrap your head around everything. “This— this isn’t Seoul to Jeonju. This isn’t a leave by day, come back by night type of trip. This is-…”
“You’re freaking out,” Jungkook interjects, his soft yet stern voice cutting through your thoughts as he lays a hand on your thigh, the platinum of his wedding band looking right up at you.
You surrender in defeat, not because you’re fighting with your husband, but because there’s simply no other answer he could ever conjure for you as to why this is happening.
“Why aren’t you? Why am I the only one scared?” you whisper.
“You’re not supposed to be.”
“Of course. It’s not like you— we put everything on the line,” you clear your throat, looking down on your shoes as you convince yourself. You ignore how you’re still not entirely aware of what’s with Jungkook’s project, other than the fact that Namjoon’s the screenwriter, all in favor of giving you a semblance of sanity before Jungkook leaves you and Hwayoung. “Right?”
( ♡ )
You wonder if Jungkook already ate breakfast.
You wonder if he ate the supposedly excellent in-flight meal that comes with first-class tickets, or if he ate the ramen he’s always had a penchant for eating especially during your trips, whether by land, sea, or air. You wonder if he’s grumpy with the altitude and the way he has to pop his ears ever so often, along with the way he always seems to be too long for airplane seats turned into beds.
You call but Jungkook doesn’t answer, even if you know he’ll never not purchase in-flight wifi because he’d rather knock himself out than have to read a book or something of the sort. You message, but then again, your husband doesn’t answer, even if you know he’ll much rather reply via text than to record a voice note because he’s shy with people hearing him in public spaces, albeit closed.
Hwayoung waits patiently beside you, swinging her legs back and forth on the couch as Miso stays up with her. She should’ve been in bed half an hour ago but you let her stay up with you, all in the pursuit of getting Jungkook to respond.
“Appa?” she asks again after a minute of you trying for her dad but through another app, her pout reminding you of Jungkook’s who’s unreachable.
You try not to frown in front of her, leveling yourself as you settle for kissing her forehead to cover up the sigh that originates deep from your chest.
“Not yet, Young-ie.”
.
.
.
There’s no text from Jungkook when you wake, but there is a picture of him in the buffet of the private lounge he’s staying at during his layover.
Atleast Jungkook did eat breakfast and Hwayoung was able to sleep without him (the first of what you dread is many), nevermind the dull thrum in your chest in Jungkook’s absence.
( ♡ )
Hwayoung's been behaved the whole time you were on set.
With Jimin prioritizing his voluntary role of being a babysitter to your daughter over his position of being a manager to you, you became instantly comforted at the reassurance that you're not in this situation alone.
It's only been a week since you started working right after Jungkook left, his absence rearranging every system you've previously had in place. You do your very best to have Hwayoung still thriving, and even just the reminder that you are succeeding at being the only present parent for the meantime melts all of your fatigue away.
Your trailer's more equipped for her than it is for you, the space apparently reminding Hwayoung of home so much that it's enough to make her remind you that Miso should go join the both of you sometime. Your dressing room's always been hers, and so has been the affection of everyone close to you.
“I take my role of godfather very seriously.”
Yoongi explains even if you haven't asked him anything. In fact, you weren't talking to begin with. It's not in his nature to talk for the sake of talking (that's Jungkook's), but even with Hwayoung in his arms and you still being lost in your thoughts, he can't help but to feel concerned.
“I can tell," you snicker, finally taking notice of the sight in front of you. The earpiece that was previously on Yoongi is now slung over Hwayoung's shoulder, obviously too big on her. She wanted it as an accessory (it reminds her of the toy stethoscope she'd put on Miso as a collar) and with Yoongi being himself, he can't bring himself to say no.
Your shooting day's nearly over and although today wasn't as long as your previous record of hours on end, you already seem exhausted. Yoongi, of all people, knows what scenes wear you out. You hated doing monologues as a rookie and still despise monologues (but with random, out-of-place advertisements in between) as a veteran — you’ve done neither today.
"What's with the frown?" he asks gently, not only because Hwayoung’s been quiet for the past two minutes and she’s getting groggy, but also because if he were to ask you any louder, he feels as if you’d break.
"It's nothing," you answer automatically, looking at Hwayoung to ground yourself. "Just usual family things, I guess."
"Trouble in paradise?" Yoongi asks with a chuckle, abruptly stopping his fit of amusement when he gets goosebumps starting from the tail of his spine. He instantly recognizes it as deja vu. "I've asked you this before, haven't I?"
The realization doesn’t hit you until he points it out.
"Mhmm," you hum absent-mindedly, playing with the hem of your dress. “I don't think the problem now is anything like how it was before, though."
One night several years ago, you and Yoongi were sat side-by-side in the booth of a club, the heartbreak you had over what Jungkook’s done (and haven’t, at the time) being the wedge between you.
Now, Yoongi’s standing in front of you while you’re sat down, your daughter with Jungkook in his arms.
“Me neither. I don't know how you and Jungkook can encounter any problem worse than last time, to be honest," he chuckles, shaking his head at the recollection of the hell you’ve been through. "Also, I think I can say that because I literally don't know what's going on with you. But if you do tell me-!"
"You're so nosy,” you snort, the brief moment of playfulness welcome because your head aches the longer that you dwell over your worries.
"I can be the judge to see if what you're going through now is worse than before," Yoongi shrugs to fake nonchalance, unaware that you’re gasping in awe until you kick him lightly in the shin.
Hwayoung’s asleep in his arms.
"She's never did that with anyone before," you murmur, fishing for your phone to take a picture, but not before quickly skimming to see if Jungkook’s sent you any messages; he hasn’t. “She only either sleeps in mine or Jungkook's arms. Not for my parents, not for my in-laws. Just me and him."
Yoongi smiles proudly, stroking Hwayoung’s hair proudly. "What can I say? I'm godfather of the year."
He only sways her gently back and forth, rocking her with the patience and attention that remind you of Jungkook’s when Hwayoung was a newborn.
You’re calm and quiet to see her adjusting so well already, but you can’t help but to feel lost because you feel the exact opposite. No one’s gonna stroke your hair for you and tell you to take your time — those are Jungkook’s tasks alone, yet your grievances are also because of him.
"Jungkook's producing this short film in the US. It's by his friend," you mutter under your breath after some time in silence. Yoongi flicks his eyes up at you as if you’re talking about the weather, careful not to make you feel more conflicted than you already are. “You know… by Namjoon.”
"Since when was he into that?" he asks out of curiosity, eyebrows furrowed because he didn’t know that your opening line would ever transition to this point in the conversation. Yoongi catches a second wind the longer he processes your words, the scoff that leaves his lips making his bangs loose despite the hairspray on them. “Since when did Jungkook and Namjoon belong in the same sentence?”
"I don't know either.”
"So we're both producers now?" he snickers, the teasing already coming natural. "Nepo husband alert."
You roll your eyes in recognition, clearing your throat as soon as the laughter died between the two of you. “We got into this argument and I don't know, I-I realized I was being selfish for a moment because I didn't want him to go at first, you know?" you admit in full sincerity, exhaling the lump that forms in your throat. “He said he was afraid that this is everything he'll be. My husband, Hwayoung's dad. So on and so forth."
Yoongi only listens this time, giving the occasional hum there to remind you that he’s still there.
"And last night, he, uh, he forgot to call," you gulp, already feeling the weight of your worries settle in your stomach. "The call wasn't even for me. It's for Hwayoung because he promised he'll still read her whatever she wants."
The three of you cherish that time together because normally, it happens as soon as you get home from work. Hwayoung’s long graduated from storybooks and has now branched out to the most ridiculous texts that Jungkook indulges her with nonetheless — from the ingredient list at the back of milk cartons, and all the way to Reddit threads of how cats find their way back home to owners.
"He's been secretive about the whole thing and I-I… I do that too with my projects, I get it. But only at first because I'm literally bound to an NDA," you stammer, pinching your nosebridge to get past the frustration. “I’m just-…!" you give up, admitting the truth. "I did some snooping."
"And?" Yoongi prompts, tilting his head in anticipation.
"I think he's been secretive because the main lead's Eunsu."
Yoongi recoils at that, so much so that it almost wakes up Hwayoung.
"Eunsu? As in Park Eunsu?" he repeats, the scowl on his face getting deeper the more that you stay indifferent. “Eunsu as in your nemesis?"
You relent, the mention of her finally hitting close.
"Nemesis sounds a little childish."
Yoongi scoffs immediately, rolling his eyes at your correction. “I mean yeah, because people keep pitting her against you when she doesn't even come close," he shrugs easily, make you tut in warning. "What? I'm just saying what everybody's been thinking."
To know that you can still confide in Yoongi no matter what comforts you — what doesn’t is that this time around, your gut feeling’s stronger than it had been the last time.
"I hope I'm wrong."
"I hope so too," he exhales, shaking his head in disbelief. "What kind of asshole sleeps with his wife's enemy?"
"Don't put that out there,” you grumble, the unintentional yet weird arrangement of words making you dizzy.
"Sorry. It's a metaphor, dummy," Yoongi surrenders, clearing his throat. "Okay. Retake. What kind of husband produces a film featuring his wife's rival?
"Hopefully not mine."
( ♡ )
It takes little effort to love you.
Loving you specifically doesn’t have to be hard.
Jungkook thinks that loving you isn’t hard when you serve as the peace to his otherwise hectic and turbulent mind. You manifest into the comfort he looks for in all seasons, be it the heat pack you wordlessly put in his coat pocket or the scrunchie you put around his wrist no matter the weather whenever his hair got too long.
You don’t text him at every hour of the day whether you were working or not, but you’ve made it a point to always check up on him multiple times even if the both of you are at home, going as far to randomly waking up in the night to pause your breathing and check up on his with a hand on his chest.
It’s easy love — one that could be grasped by everyone because as the world has proved to him time and time again, you’re easy to fall with and for.
You may not coo and awe at every single thing he utters, but the adoration behind your eyes always makes him warm from the inside because you held onto him, no matter how anticlimactic his stories could be.
Neither you and Jungkook are easy, that much he knows.
He knows it because although it’s never been his intention to come home late during his allotted short break between filming (it’s disguised as a break even if he only came back to take care of work-related matters personally), you make it known that you’re irked with him for every other reason.
He knows that you aren’t easy because for the past three weeks he’s been gone, you’ve reiterated twice in the last hour alone how you’ve asked him again and again who will star in his short film. You’ve asked Jungkook repeatedly to give you details outside of Namjoon and the vaguest bits he could ever give you, establishing the fact that he isn’t even bound to an NDA.
It’s the persisting barrage of questions in your head that bothers you without a single break. It’s the hovering feeling of doom above your head because having no answers to any of them, on top of Jungkook closing himself off with or without the physical distance between the two of you and being Hwayoung’s sole caregiver, that your patience ultimately thins.
Your annoyance towards your husband is clearly obvious and it bothers him to the point of frustration. Jungkook’s been convinced since last week that if he just dodged your questions for long enough and blamed it on the connection of your call, he wouldn’t have to answer to you; he wouldn’t have to explain the fine details of the project he’s kept from you.
If he had only avoided you for long enough, you would’ve forgotten about the rumors surrounding Namjoon’s upcoming screenplay that had been leaked to the press, and the roster of actresses thought out to be the main lead of his short film.
If he had only ignored your pleas for long enough, he would have never succumbed to the preliminary guilt that comes with lying to you under the impression that he’s only being protective, pushing him to drink until his vision spins — enough for him that when he admits the truth to you, your face of heartbreak directed at him isn’t as anguishing.
“Fine, fuck it! Since you’re so nosy, yes. Eunsu is my main lead, there! She’s my muse!” Jungkook just about yells, breathless from the burn of alcohol in his throat that spreads all the way to his chest, and from the back and forth he’s been going at with you for the last hour.
“Why didn’t you tell me in the first place?!” you retort, fists clenching at your sides as the thought of Jungkook with Eunsu, with her of all actresses, in a foreign place at almost every minute of the workday irking you.
“Would it have made a difference? You’d still be angry at me,” he rolls his eyes, placing a hand on his hip as he tries to stabilize his gaze on you.
“And even then, you wouldn’t do anything about it, right? Because that’s just your nature, Jungkook,” you scoff, your dig at him being incredibly low yet you steel your pride, unwilling to back down at the thought that Jungkook’s been lying to you for three weeks– perhaps even longer.
He presses a tongue to his cheek as you pertain to the past loud and clear, the sarcastic nod he gives you making your breathing tremble.
“Why? Why does it have to be her?” you try again, this time with your jaw clenched so your anger won’t flare up because you’ve been dying to have a decent explanation from Jungkook for weeks.
“Why can’t it be her?” he counters. “B-because she’s what, she’s your rival or something? You’re jealous? Bitter?”
The knot in your chest tightens, the recall you have of the woman who had sabotaged you repeatedly when you were still a rookie putting a metallic taste on your tongue. She’s hindered you in ways that not even Yoongi could explain fully despite being the closest friend to you in the industry, the vitriol you’ve had for Eunsu in the past reviving back to life.
You have no words except for the fact that begs to be acknowledged without a single syllable.
“I’m your wife, Jungkook,” you exhale shakily, the gravity of it seemingly not enough for him because he refuses to use it as a reason to get on your side.
“Don’t you think I know that? Don’t you think everybody knows that by now?” Jungkook spits. “When I’m producing my film with Eunsu, I don’t want to be your husband, Y/N! I’m sick of it,” he seethes. “Eunsu has nothing to do with me. Why should I fight your battles for you? Why do I have to carry your grudges for something that doesn’t even concern me?”
Jungkook’s the drunkest he’s ever been in his life, yet he utters the clearest words you’ve ever heard him say.
“This is showbiz, Y/N. It’s inevitable for you to get caught up with shit.”
“You’re talking as if being my husband and being Hwayoung’s dad is a chore.”
“Because maybe it is!” Jungkook bursts with a cry, the tears that spring out of his eyes momentarily blinding him. “Because maybe, I’m fed up trying to be sickeningly devoted to you all the time.”
There’s something akin to white, hot, searing pain that spreads across your chest all the way to your temple, the tremble of your lips not enough for Jungkook to realize that you’re on the verge of sobbing.
“Sometimes I hate this. I… I-I hate this life I’m living because of you, Y/N,” Jungkook whispers. “I hate how you’re so, so perfect in juggling everything. I hate how I could spend an hour just convincing Hwayoung to eat a single carrot and you come in the room, and she finishes the bowl with a smile on her face. I-I hate how you never complain whenever you need to do late night feedings after a long day because I’m already snoring. I hate how with or without work, you’re still just—…” he stills, looking at you with a distraught gaze. “You’re still so content. You’re still able to be yourself like you’ve always been.”
There’s no words left in you; no thought at all that could ever pick you up from the ground and gather yourself the way you’ve always had whenever you and Jungkook had felt the furthest from each other.
“Jungkook,” you sniffle, even if he waves you off half-heartedly. “I’m sorry if-…”
“There it is. There it fucking is again!” Jungkook whines, foot agitatedly stomping against the floor as he pulls at his hair. “You’re apologizing for being so perfect in life that it’s making me feel bad!”
“But I’m not! I’m far from it, what the hell are you talking about?” you rasp, the sarcastic laugh that goes past your lips making his ears ring. “I’m sorry if it seems that way but I’m telling you myself that everything is not perfect the way you make it out to be. I’m sorry because it makes you feel bad, but if anything-…”
Jungkook raises a finger at you, his jaw tightening the longer he stews in displacement.
“Don’t. Don’t. Don’t tell me how content you are with everything despite being exhausted, or how you juggling everything is worth it. Don’t tell me how good of a dad I am."
“Then what can I say to make it lighter for you, Jungkook? What can I say that won’t make you resent me?” you grit in surrender, chest falling so lowly, you’ve forgotten to breathe for a long second. “Do you hate the life that we’re living now so much that you can’t even look at me?”
Love isn’t always a matter of ease and although it’s always stuck to you, you prove now that Jungkook coming home to you at this instance, in this light, that he makes love the most difficult thing.
“Do you hate the life that I gave you so badly?”
“I don’t,” he answers, mouth dry as his vision spins. “Sometimes. Tonight, though — maybe I do. It comes and goes.”
“Then what can we do about it?” you whisper, your vision hazy as you look at him. “Where do we go from here?”
“It’s getting late,” Jungkook only whispers, unwilling to look at the bed you share. “I have an early flight tomorrow.”
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sugarcoated-lame · 3 months
Text
Sometimes A Bride | Jake Seresin x Reader
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18+ only, minors DNI
Jake Seresin x female Bradshaw!reader
part two of Always A Bridesmaid
Synopsis: You’re having some pre-wedding jitters and there’s only one person you know can help calm you down.
or
You and Jake sneak off for a quickie before the two of you say ‘I do.’
WC: 11.5k (another long one oops)
warnings: a smidgen of angst?, anxiety, mentions of alcohol, smut, fingering, unprotected piv, slight overstimulation, i think jake calling reader a good girl deserves a warning, unspecified age gap (reader is in around mid-late 20s, jake is in early-mid 30s), once again jake being too damn charming for his own good, tonssss of disgustingly sweet tooth-rotting fluff, really sweet fluffy moments with big bro bradley, natasha being the best sister-in-law and maid of honor, jake still being an absolute menace, i'm literally the worst at coming up with titles for my fics, moodboard is not any indication of reader’s appearance
a/n: The very long-awaited (I’m sorry 🤍) sequel to Always a Bridesmaid. Thank you so much to everyone who’s stuck around and shown the first part so much love and support, and waited so patiently for this story! I love y’all 
beautiful dividers by @saradika-graphics 🤍
〰・♡・〰 reblogs, comments, and feedback are greatly appreciated! 〰・♡・〰
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You love weddings. 
It's a fact you try to remind yourself of as you take a deep breath, taking in your reflection in the vast vanity mirror.
Hair styled to pristine perfection, professionally done makeup better than anything you’d ever be capable of doing yourself, in a gorgeous white dress that fits just right and makes you feel more beautiful than ever.  
You love weddings. You love the fancy clothes, all the chatter and the sweet scent of champagne flowing through the air at the reception, the contagious laughter and dancing.
But, most of all, you love getting to watch two people profess their love for each other and promise themselves to one another for the rest of their lives through beaming smiles and tears of joy. 
It’s been a little over three years since Bradley and Natasha said ‘I do’, and after meeting the love of your life at your big brother’s wedding, how could you not love them? 
Three years since that fateful night that you met Jake and both of your lives were changed forever, and the two of you have been pretty much inseparable ever since. Well, nearly ever since.
Initially, both you and Jake were scared by just how much you liked one another. 
After spending the night together at your brother’s wedding — and the morning after — you had feared that it was just that rose-colored haze of love in the air that comes along with weddings, and you wondered if that magical pixie dust was going to wear off eventually — and take your feelings with it. 
But it never did. 
Even at the beginning, back when Jake had tried to push down his feelings for you and said he couldn’t offer much more than no strings attached fun, ‘because I’m going to be away on deployments and dangerous missions all the time, and because you’re Bradshaw’s little sister.’ 
Because he ‘didn’t have time for anything serious’ – but really, because he was afraid of just how strongly he felt for you – even then, you were so drawn to him and Jake couldn’t deny how much he enjoyed spending time with you.
How he thought about you and that amazing night you’d spent together nearly every second of every day. 
From the moment he’d wake up in his boring, lonely apartment, to the hours spent in briefings or flying dangerous maneuvers in his F18, to the moment he’d go to sleep alone every night in his bed that all of a sudden seemed too big. 
And, what scared Jake the most was that it wasn’t just the sex – though, that was definitely a great part of it – that he yearned for. It was just you. 
You, with your bright eyes and your radiant smile, your melodic laugh and effervescent personality. You had quickly wormed your way into his heart and lit him up from the inside out. 
He no longer found himself wanting the mundane and meaningless hook-ups or one night stands that places like the Hard Deck had to offer, which had become routine for him since his time as a young pilot at Top Gun. 
You brought Jake’s world from dull grayscale to vibrant technicolor and he found that he just always wanted you around. 
He’d never felt that way about anyone before, and it terrified him.
You’d never wanted anyone so bad, and you were fearful that it wasn’t going to last. 
But, try as you might, the two of you just couldn’t seem to stay away from each other for long. 
Once Jake got his head out of his ass and he took you out on a few proper dates – which, naturally, ended in you fucking each other’s brains out a few more times – you both agreed to try to take things slow, because your feelings for each other were real and neither one of you wanted to mess things up. 
However, you quickly learned that there was no such thing as slow when it comes to you and Jake. Before you knew it, things between the two of you had become pretty serious, and you realized – much to your brother Bradley’s dismay, that the two of you share a very real connection. 
Through all of the ups and downs — triumphs and hardships, happy times and tears, the silly fights and even sillier make-ups that these past three years have brought the two of you. 
From going mad missing each other when Jake is away on deployments, up until his recent request for a more permanent position at Top Gun so he can be closer to home – closer to you –  you and Jake have stuck together through it all like super glue.
Three years of unconditional love and support, of growing and becoming better together, loving and living life with your best friend.
You’ve never been quite sure if you believe in the concept of soulmates, but if they do exist, you’re positive that Jake is yours.
And, you love weddings… so why are you currently freaking the fuck out, today of all days? Oh, right… because it’s your wedding day. 
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You’re pretty sure that your vision is beginning to blur, your body growing a little dizzy as you watch the constant stream of people flitting all around you through the glass of the large vanity mirror.
Your bridesmaids chatter excitedly as they too work to finish getting ready, sipping from mimosas as they make their way into their dresses while Natasha – the best sister-in-law and best maid of honor you could ever ask for – helps to keep everyone focused and on schedule. 
She paces the room with her phone in hand, probably texting Bradley to make sure things are running smoothly in the groomsmens’ suite as well. 
There are at least three people at any given moment hovering around you like bees, fussing over your hair, doing last minute touch-ups on your makeup, and making sure there’s not a wrinkle in sight on the beautiful wedding gown of your dreams that you’re oh-so nervous for Jake to finally see. 
Not nervous because you’re worried he won’t like it – he’s told you plenty of times that he’d be more than happy to marry you if you were wearing a trash bag – but because this is your big day, the beginning of the rest of your lives together and you just want it to be perfect. 
After all the months of painstaking planning – from centerpieces to seating charts, the choosing the color of the napkins to the dinner menu and countless trials of cake flavors. From finding the perfect venue, to the best floral arrangements, and of course the dream wedding dress. 
After being so hyper-focused on this day for months, now that that day is actually here, you just need everything to be perfect.
Not even the two and a half mimosa’s you’ve had this morning have been enough to quell the stress currently coursing through your veins, and the buzz of the busy bridal suite is beginning to make your head spin. 
Between all of the running around you’ve done since waking up — way too early — this morning, the little bit of alcohol and all the commotion going on around you now, your face feels too hot, a tiny sheen of sweat beginning to shine through your makeup.
You can’t help but wonder if Jake is feeling this flustered right now too. Probably not, the man is cool and calm about just about everything; it’s one of the things you love about him.
As the makeup artist powders your nose for the fifth time in ten minutes in an attempt to tamper down the shine, you feel your resolve beginning to crack. You try to take in a deep breath to shake the nerves, but feel as though there’s not enough air in the room to fill your lungs and you find yourself feeling like you need to escape. 
As if she can sense your distress from all the way across the room, Natasha — ever the dutiful maid of honor — materializes behind you with a comforting hand on your shoulder, politely excusing the makeup artist and everyone else that’s currently milling around you, before meeting your gaze through the mirror with a gentle smile. 
Though, you know your sister-in-law too well and you can see the concern in her brown eyes.
“You okay?” When Natasha gives your shoulder a comforting squeeze, you close your eyes and heave out a deep sigh, grateful for a moment of calm. 
It’s in the same moment that you open your eyes and give her a nod and an unconvincing smile that there’s a knock on the bridal suite door just behind you, and you turn your head to find Bradley opening it a crack and peeking his head in. 
“Everyone decent?” Your older brother asks, meeting your eyes with a soft look and you swear you could cry.
Through all her running around to help make sure that your day is perfect, you’d seen Natasha on her phone and you figure that, always knowing just what you need, she must have texted Bradley – and that’s exactly what she did. 
Natasha had let her husband know that his sister was feeling some pre-wedding jitters and could use some reassurance that she knew you could only get from your big brother, and he immediately made his way from the groomsmens’ suite to come to your aid.
“Yeah, come on in!” Natasha calls out with one last squeeze to your shoulder before meeting Bradley at the door and greeting him with a quick kiss on his cheek.
She gently pushes him towards where you stand in front of the large mirror smoothing your hands over an invisible wrinkle on the flowy white skirt of your dress, before ushering the rest of your bridesmaids and everyone else to the other side of the large suite to put their finishing touches on their looks and give the two of you some privacy. 
You turn around to face Bradley, standing there in a classic black suit with a bow tie, and you could swear your brother gets a little misty-eyed as he takes in the sight of you in your lavish white dress, a soft smile pulling at the corner of his mustached lips when he asks, “You okay, sis?”
You think about lying for a second and telling him that you’re just fine, but this is Bradley -– your big brother and self-appointed protector for all your life, even when you don’t always want or need him to be, and you know that he’d be able to see right through you.
Blowing out a small sigh, you carefully take a seat on the plush couch that sits in the nearest corner, making sure to arrange all the layers of fabric that surround your lower half in a way that they won’t become too wrinkled.
“Honestly… I’m kind of freaking out.” You tell your brother as he joins you on the sofa. Your voice is barely above a whisper, just loud enough that he’s able to hear due to his close proximity.
You’re looking down at where you nervously wring your hands in your lap when Bradley speaks. 
“Why? You’ve got nothing to worry about.” His words are matter-of-fact, but his voice is soft in that comforting, brotherly tone that’s only reserved for you.
“I- I don’t know.” You tell him with a light shake of your head. “I guess I’m just nervous?” 
The words come out as a question and your gaze lifts to meet Bradley’s before you continue on.
“You know, it’s such a big, important day that I’ve spent so long dreaming of and planning for and– that I’m going to remember for the rest of my life and I just…” your voice trails off as you realize you’re rambling, stopping to take a breath before you continue. 
 “I just love Jake so much and I… I just want everything to be perfect.”
Bradley takes in your frazzled expression, nodding in understanding. “You’re right, it is a big deal, and it’s totally normal to have some nerves.” 
The pensive look on his face shifts to one of what looks like amusement as he glances across the room to where his wife is chatting away with the rest of your bridesmaids, before leaning closer to whisper conspiratorially. 
“I was scared shitless when I married Nat.” 
Your eyes widen at Bradley’s confession, a small puff of laughter escaping your lips as you question him, “What? Really?”
“Yeah,” Your brother’s smile grows at the sight of your own, a quiet chuckle leaving him. “But, then I remembered that I was marrying my best friend and all of those nerves just sort of melted away.”
“Which is why you should believe me when I tell you–” Bradley reaches over to take your hands in his, his brown gaze warm as he speaks earnestly.
“It’s going to be perfect no matter what happens, because you and Jake will be together.”
Your lips can’t help but quirk up a bit at your older brother’s reassurance. “You really think so?”
“Yeah,” Bradley gives your hands a gentle squeeze. “In fact, I know so.”
“Because, I have never seen you happier than you have been these past few years since you’ve been with Jake.” That small smile never leaves his lips as he continues talking and your heart nearly melts in your chest at the sincerity of your big brother’s words. 
“It’s clear that the two of you love each other very much.”
You have to admit it’s a bit of a shock to hear those words from Bradley of all people – sure, things have gotten a lot better between your brother and your fiance over the years, but you’d still consider them frenemies at the best of times. 
You realize that you haven’t said anything in response, being too stunned to speak, when Bradley continues on with a knowing smirk on his face as he takes in your dumbfounded expression.
“Trust me, I wasn’t the biggest fan of the idea of you dating Jake in the beginning, but I see how much he cares about you. Above anything else.” 
You nod your head in agreement, but not without a laugh and a playful roll of your eyes. With your brother’s reassurance that everything would be okay so long as you and Jake are together, and the reminder of just how much your husband-to-be loves you, now you couldn’t wipe the grin off your face if you tried. “Yeah, he does.” 
Bradley takes in the lovesick smile on your face and tilts his head, raising a brow in question. “We feeling better now?”
“Yeah,” Feeling much more calm now, it’s your turn to squeeze Bradley’s hands, nodding happily at him before releasing them. “A lot better. Thank you.”
“Good.” Bradley stands, offering his hands to pull you up off the sofa as well, before pulling you into a hug. 
With a quiet instruction to ‘call me if you need me’, your brother releases you from his arms, venturing over to Natasha to place a small peck to his wife’s lips before making his way out the door and back to the groomsmens’ suite.
You really do feel a whole lot better, but all this talk about your fiancé and his love for you, and how truly, utterly happy he makes you, has you missing him. Yearning to be with him in this very moment, and you realize that the only thing that would really put your mind at ease is right now Jake himself. 
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Jake’s head perks up as the door to the groomsmen’s suite opens for the second time in about fifteen minutes to reveal Bradley, adorning a tux matching that of all the other groomsmen. 
It’s still crazy for him to think about the fact that your brother, who was so adamant about you not seeing Jake all those years ago, would be one of the groomsmen at his and your wedding. 
“Where’d you disappear to, Rooster?” A relaxed smirk lifts up the corner of Jake’s lips as he fixes his tie in the mirror.  
“Just went to check on the bride-to-be.” Jake’s smile softens just a bit at the mention of you.
“You know, I never thought the two of you would last this long, so I had to check and see if my sister was ready to back out yet.” 
Bradley drops down onto the sofa next to Bob and Coyote, who are quietly snickering at his teasing of the groom. 
“Oh, ha-ha.” Jake’s smirk grows devilish at the joke, turning his sights on the mustached man ready to tease him right back. “Face it, Bradshaw. We’re gonna be brothers real soon.” 
Bradley only rolls his eyes goodnaturedly at his soon to be brother-in-law, a fact that Jake has made a point to remind him of, all the time, since the two of you got engaged a little over a year ago. 
“How is she, though?” Jake asks, and Bradley can hear the sincerity creeping into the blonde’s tone. 
“She’s good. Was just dealing with the usual pre-wedding nerves, but it’s all good now.” Bradley tells him honestly. 
Jake only nods in response, already retreating into his head, into his worry for you, causing your brother to speak up again.
“Jake, I promise, everything’s good.” Bradley reassures him with a small smile.
“Yeah… good.” Jake nods once more, making an attempt to paint the best smile he possibly can on his lips.
He’s not worried because he thinks that you might not want this, or him – he knows without a shadow of doubt just how vast your love for him is – but, because he knows how you get when you put your heart into something and that you’ll drive yourself crazy trying to get everything perfect.
Jake’s seen firsthand just how painstakingly you’ve worked to plan this wedding, all the months spent making sure that every little detail is just right. 
He knows that all of that time and stress, culminating to this one day, is likely weighing on your mind now that the day has finally come. 
And in this moment, Jake wants nothing more than to just be able to see you – to hold you and comfort you and let you know that everything is going to be just fine.
He knows the old superstition that the groom isn’t supposed to see the bride before the ceremony, but…
“Fuck it.”
The two words escape under Jake’s breath just before he’s shrugging on the jacket to his tux and quickly making his way to the door. 
“Where are you going, man?” Javy questions his best friend, drawing the attention of the rest of the Daggers — sans Phoenix who’s with you getting ready in the bridal suite — toward where Jake stands in the now open doorway, one hand on the knob and one foot already out in the hall. 
“Just gotta check something with the wedding planner. Be right back.” 
It’s not a total lie. Sure, you had forgone hiring a wedding planner and chose to do everything yourself — with the help of Natasha and Penny of course -— but that technically made you the wedding planner. The guys don’t have to know that.
Jake traverses the winding halls of the venue, the anticipation of seeing you building up as he walks briskly in his dress shoes until he finds a door with a paper sign that reads, ‘Bridal Suite’ in loopy, cursive lettering.
Taking a breath, he knocks on the door, and he’s lucky to find that a moment later, it’s you who answers.
“What-” Your eyes widen in surprise and you’re hardly able to get a word out as one of Jake’s hands grasps yours, swiftly pulling you out of the door and into the hallway with him. 
You don’t get a chance to finish your question, because within seconds your fiancé is practically sprinting down the long hallway, pulling you along with him with his large hand wrapped around your smaller one. 
You can't help but giggle at Jake’s antics as the two of you run through the halls, watching his free hand reach for a few knobs along the way only to find them locked, finally stopping when he finds a door that seems to be open. 
He quickly peers into the room just to make sure that it’s empty before gently pulling you into the dark space, lit only by the natural light that shines in through the windows, and closing the door. 
You're still laughing breathlessly when you find your words again, Jake’s own breathy chuckle mixing with yours in the quiet of the room.
“Wha— Jake? What are you doing, you’re not supposed to see me in my dress before the ceremony!”
“Screw that, my girl needed me.” His warm hand is still in yours, his free hand moving to clasp your other one. That emerald gaze that you’ve come to know so well bores into you as he smiles down at you lovingly.
Your eyes lift to meet Jake’s and it’s like any and all nerves just melt away.
You always feel safe when Jake is near and just the sight of him now, being in his presence, has a toothy grin making its way onto your face.
Another giggle escapes you, trailing off into a content sigh as you look up at the gorgeous man in front of you.
The two of you just gaze into each other’s eyes for a long moment, and with a light shake of your head, your grin becomes coy. 
“Hi.” You find yourself whispering into the quiet of the room.
Jake lets out a chuckle, the outer corners of his eyes crinkling up in the way that you love when smiles at you. “Hi.”
Without letting go of your hands, Jake takes a step back to really take you in for the first time since breaking you out of the bridal suite just a few minutes ago. 
Finally getting a good look at you in your wedding dress that beautifully accentuates the shape of your body, your makeup done to perfection — though Jake doesn’t think you ever need it — and hair styled prettily but still flowing and free just the way he likes, renders your soon-to-be husband practically speechless. 
All he can say is, “Wow…”
You can hear the pure awe in that one word and can’t help but smile bashfully, heat rising in your cheeks. Jake’s compliments still manage to make you flustered, even after all this time. 
“Wow, yourself.” Your gaze sweeps up and down the length of his body, taking in the crisp black tuxedo and matching bow tie, and the white dress shirt underneath. Appreciating the way it fits him just right, how you’re still able to tell just how toned his body is even under the layers of clothing.
Jake’s hands tenderly squeeze your own, pulling you a little bit closer once again as his eyes search out your own. “You doing okay, honey?”
And though you were definitely feeling anxious before, you couldn’t be more content than you are now when it’s just the two of you, standing here holding hands with the love of your life.
“Yes,” You nod gently. “I’m just a little nervous.”
You look down at your joined hands before quietly continuing. “I just want this day to be perfect.”
“Hey,” Jake lightly swings your joined hands to get you to look up at him again, and when you do, you see that he’s still wearing that confident smile. “It’s going to be perfect because it’s all coming from you. And everything you do is perfect in my eyes.”
You have to bite back your giggle at his sentiment, in disbelief that this sweet man is soon going to be your husband.
“It’s going to be perfect because it’s us. Together.” You correct him with a playful grin. 
“Yeah, you’re right.” Jake’s hands leave yours, wrapping warmly around your shoulders to pull you in for a hug. Nestled in his embrace, your own arms wrap around his middle, your head moving to lean on his chest, taking in the familiar scent of his cologne as he leans his head on top of yours. “Together.”
The two of you stand like that for a few moments, wrapped snugly in each other’s warmth, Jake beginning to sway you just lightly as you breathe each other in.
It’s with your cheek pressed against his pec that you finally take a look around the room the two of you are standing in, realizing that it’s another suite similar to the one you had been getting ready in earlier.
“You know,” You lift your head from Jake’s chest to look up at him as you speak, a playful tone filling your words. “This feels oddly familiar to the night we met.”
“Sneaking off to a dark, empty room,” You continue with a growing smirk, arms unlatching from around Jake’s waist and pulling back just a touch, his own arms falling from around your shoulders. “Just the two of us.”
Your hands slide gently up Jake’s torso over the fabric of his suit jacket, up past his broad shoulders to rest at the back of his neck. 
Jake’s gaze leaves you for just a moment to glance at the space around you. An airy laugh leaving his lips as his hands reach for your hips over the soft fabric of your dress to pull you a little bit closer, his green eyes falling back onto you. 
Faces just inches away from one another, the two of you share matching silly grins as you think back to the night of your brother’s wedding. A look of pure love and adoration passing between your eyes and his as you both absorb the fact that you’re here, three years later, at your own wedding. 
“Yeah, we’re just missing the champagne.” 
Jake softly brushes his nose against yours, your eyes fluttering shut as he leans in to connect his lips to yours in a gentle kiss. 
Tasting the remnants of the sweet mimosa on your lips, he hums against them before pulling back just slightly. “But it seems like you’ve already got that covered, Sweets.” 
The familiar nickname paints his favorite smile on your lips that has Jake diving back in for another kiss, this one deeper as his tongue dips into your mouth to taste the lingering sweetness of champagne and orange juice on your tongue.
His large hands pull you in closer by the waist as your fingers find the short blonde hairs at the nape of his neck, a groan falling from Jake’s mouth and into yours as your fingernails gently scrape along his scalp.
It’s almost embarrassing how quickly your body still responds to his touch after all this time; your knees going weak, and you’re practically melting into him as you feel wetness begin to pool in the skimpy, lacy white panties of your bridal lingerie that you’ve been dying to show Jake since you picked it all out a few months earlier.
The kiss quickly becomes more heated, lips slotting feverishly together as though one can only find much-needed oxygen within the other’s mouth, tongues swirling in a well-known dance and relishing in the familiar taste of one another. 
Jake’s hands are all over you, pulling your body flush against his as he sucks your bottom lip between the both of his. Your skin feels hot from his touch even through the fabric of your dress, and the realization of his quickly hardening length pressing against your hip has you mewling against him.
Jake pulls back from the kiss, his gaze still hungry, but you also catch the mirth in his eyes as he chuckles at his bride-to-be.
“Always so needy for me.” He slowly shakes his head with that classic, cocky Jake Seresin smirk that still makes you weak in the knees. 
“Me?!” You scoff, eyes wide as you look up at him incredulously, though you’re fighting back a smile because you know he’s right. 
“Well, I’d say someone is also pretty needy.” 
Your hand leaves the back of his neck to travel between your bodies to prove your point, reaching down to palm at his hard length through the fabric of his dress pants. Your brows raise in a playfully vindicated look that screams ‘I told you so’, as Jake lets out a groan at your touch. 
“Yeah, o-okay.” Jake’s chuckle is breathless this time as you cup your hand around him a little more firmly, grinning up at him and batting your lashes. “Always needy for you too, Sweets.” 
His hand wraps around your own to remove it from his bulge, already missing the friction as he brings your knuckles up to his lips in a sweet kiss before letting it go.
Before you even know what’s happening, both of Jake’s hands are reaching down to grip your thighs through all the layers of lace and tulle, a squeak emitting from your throat as he sweeps you off your feet and carries you over the nearest wall. 
“Jake! What are you-” Your arms circle around his shoulders, legs parting of their own volition to make room for him between them. Bracketing his hips as your back lightly hits the wall, the fabric of your dress all bunched between the two of you exposing your calves as he holds you in his strong grasp.
Large palms wrapped around the underside of your thighs, his weight pressed against your front and the wall at your back keep you upright as you giggle in your soon-to-be husband’s arms. 
Jake is beaming back at you, the adoration in his green eyes clear as they crinkle up due to his grin. 
“I love you, so much.” He lifts a hand up to your face, the backs of his fingers caressing along the soft skin of your cheek and Jake shakes his head as if he can’t believe that this is real, that you’re real. 
He leans in to press a soft, but dizzying kiss to your lips before murmuring against them, “I wanna show you how much.”
A part of you feels like you could cry at the sincerity in his voice, at just how well Jake loves you and how he’s never shy to make it known. 
But mostly, you just feel the white-hot pooling of arousal growing in your belly, your eyes glazing over with a look of both love and lust as you gaze back at him.
“Yeah?” You nod up at him in a daze, biting back a grin as you take in the hunger in those pretty green eyes. 
“Yeah.” He places a feather-light kiss to the corner of your mouth that makes you whimper and you can feel his smile against your skin. “Let me show you.” 
You nod your head again, mind in a haze of want at the feel of his warm breath on your skin, your hands squeezing at Jake’s broad shoulders. 
Feeling the velvety-soft fabric of his black suit jacket beneath your fingers, it’s only then that you’re shaken out of your stupor and you remember where you are – what today is.  
“Wait-wait, Jake, we can’t!” Your fingers continue to absentmindedly play with the fabric covering his shoulder. We’re supposed to be getting married like… now.” 
You can’t help but giggle at the predicament you’ve found yourselves in, though it’s very unsurprising for you and Jake. 
Jake’s laugh mingles with your own as you begin to lightly shake your head, and you feel his strong shoulders shrug beneath your grasp as you watch his lips quirk up into a mischievous grin. 
“All our guests–” Jake interrupts your words with another quick peck on your lips, laughing at your stunned expression. 
“The guests…can wait.” He states matter-of-factly. “Can’t exactly have a wedding without the bride and groom, now can they, Sweets?” 
Jake’s smile is smug and you can’t fight the one materializing on your own lips as you continue to shake your head. 
“Besides, would we really be us if we didn’t sneak off to have sex at a wedding?” He finishes off the question with a kiss to your jaw before trailing his lips down the column of your throat, lightly nipping at the skin of your neck – careful not to leave a mark – before soothing it with his tongue.
Jake was right. It had happened the night you first met at Bradley and Natasha’s wedding, and had become a tradition of sorts for the two of you at every wedding you’d been to in the three years since – and there have been quite a few.
You can feel your resolve quickly beginning to crumble as Jake presses his hips more firmly against yours, his hard length pressing up against where you need him most, the friction not nearly enough through all the layers of fancy clothing. You’re already soaking through your panties for him and you know you’re a goner.
You drop your head onto Jake’s shoulder with a sigh, before looking back up at him through your lashes. 
“Fine, but we have to be quick.” Narrowing your eyes at him, you give in, but with the most stern tone you can muster and it only makes Jake laugh. 
“Ain’t nothing slow about me, sweetheart.” You can’t stop the snort that escapes you, or the playful roll of your eyes at his words, leaning up to kiss that stupid grin off of Jake’s face. 
“Please, just– just shut up and fuck me already, Seresin.” you manage to get out through your giggles.
“With pleasure.” Jake’s lips claim yours in a hungry kiss and you feel one of his big hands venture underneath the skirt of your dress, traveling up your thigh and past the frilly fabric of your white garter in search of your core.
When his fingers brush against the damp lace of your panties, you choke out a gasp against his lips and Jake pulls back to take in your expression — your brows furrowed in pleasure and eyes heavily hooded with need. His kiss-swollen lips lift up into a smug smirk as he feels how wet you are for him. 
Jake’s deft fingers press more firmly against that wet spot, rubbing along your seam through the damp fabric. You can’t hold back your whine, already writhing against him as his thumb finds your clit, expertly circling it through the lace. 
“So wet and I’ve barely even touched you.” He breathes out a laugh and there’s a hint of smugness to his words — because of course there, it’s Jake — but you can also hear the awe present in his voice, see it in his emerald gaze that burns into you lovingly and it makes heat creep up your cheeks.
His hand dips beneath the waistband of your panties and you and Jake groan in unison as his fingers make a few quick circles around your wet, swollen clit. 
Your head falls back against the wall behind you and Jake takes the opportunity to kiss at your neck again as his hand dips down further to collect more of your wetness. 
“Already all ready for me, Sweets?” Jake’s words are whispered next to your ear as his fingers graze your entrance, your hips bucking toward them of their own volition.
“For you, ahh–” Your words are cut off by a shaky moan as Jake slides two long fingers inside of you, up to the knuckle in one swift motion. Your breath hitches and you’re practically melting against him, your voice already sounding wrecked as you whimper for him, “Always.”
Jake groans at how easily your slick walls envelop his fingers, gushing with new arousal as he fucks them in and out of your tight hole to get you ready for his cock -– not that you really need much prep with the way you’re already soaking his hand.  
“Such a good girl for me.”
Your walls clench tight around his digits, from both the praise and the way he curls them inside of you, that coil in your belly quickly winding up. 
“Fuck- Jake!” He can hear the desperation in your plea of his name, can feel it in the way your hips chase his fingers each time he pulls them almost all the way out. You’re already feeling so close, but you’re needy for more. Need to be full of him. 
Your perfectly manicured nails dig into Jake’s bicep, the heel of your foot pressing into his backside in an attempt to pull him closer as you gaze up at him through your lashes. “Please, baby– need you.”
“I got you, honey.” 
Your chin falls against your chest and you cry out as Jake scissors his fingers inside of you a few more times before they retreat completely, leaving you clenching around nothing and keening at the sudden feeling of emptiness.
The hand that was in your panties begins to trail slowly back down your thigh, and though you can’t see it through all the fabric of your skirt, you can feel the trail of slick it leaves along your skin in its wake. 
As Jake clutches your thigh in his firm grasp to hold you more securely against the wall, his other hand moves to the tent in his tight trousers where his throbbing length has been neglected.
How he’s able to hold you up with one arm while the other hand unfastens his dress pants is beyond you, but it’s moments like this that you’re grateful to have a big, strong naval aviator for a husband-to-be. 
Jake pushes his suit pants and underwear down just far enough to finally release his cock and you can’t help but moan at the sight of it. Long and looking almost painfully hard, the tip red and angry and weeping with precum. 
Jake lets out a groan as he wraps a fist around his length, relishing in the friction as his hand moves along the shaft and works to spread the pearls of his arousal from his tip down to the base. 
His hand then leaves his cock to push up the skirt of your dress as far as it can go. 
Deft fingers pry the seat of your panties from where they stick to your slick-soaked core, and gingerly move the fabric to the side so he can access your dripping cunt before he grabs ahold of himself again.
Jake lines his tip up to your entrance and pushes in slowly, his lips claiming yours in a kiss that pushes the air out of your lungs, stealing your breath and leaving you dizzy with it as his tongue tangles with yours. 
Your hands glide up the soft, expensive fabric on Jake’s arms, fingers digging into the meat of his shoulders as you gasp and writhe against him. Relishing in the feeling of him all over you. 
His lips covering your own, short breaths mixing with yours as you both pant and moan into the frantic kiss. His strong body, solid as the wall behind you as his front presses taut against you to hold you up, his long cock pushing deep inside of you with every single thrust and leaving you feeling so unbelievably full of him.
Jake pulls back from the kiss and looks down to where the two of you are connected. His length glistening with your arousal as it moves in and out of your tight walls, your beautiful, intricate wedding gown all bunched around your hips as he fucks you, and he can’t help the chuckle that escapes him when he thinks about how crazy this is.
“Wha-what’s so funny?” You ask breathlessly through kiss-swollen lips, your eyes that had previously been shut tight in bliss now opening to search out his green ones. 
“Just— this,” Jake’s gaze lifts to meet your eye as he continues to laugh, unsure if his brain is going fuzzy with pleasure, or if that’s just the intoxication of being with you. 
“My beautiful, perfect bride,” his hips slow just a touch, pressing forward in a particularly hard thrust that has you gasping and clutching onto his shoulders tighter, you and Jake moaning in unison before he continues, panting through his words.
“All a mess for me — fuck– right before we’re supposed to say ‘I do’ in front of all our family and friends– and pretty much everyone we know.”
Your eyes widen, lips tugging up into a bashful smile and you can’t help but giggle along with him, burying your head in his shoulder and speaking into the soft fabric of his jacket as he continues to fuck you.
“Oh god… well, I’m sure there’ll be some time to steam the dress again before I have to walk down the aisle.” 
You can feel Jake’s laughter reverberate against your cheek just before he cups your chin, lifting your face back up to be level with his and beaming at you with that megawatt smile. “There's my wife!” 
You’re both still grinning when he pulls you in for another kiss. Teeth gnashing against one another’s, mingled laughter and moans coming out in breathy puffs against each other’s lips as his cock works inside of you, his hips still moving against yours at an even pace.
“This is crazy.” You can barely get the words out, still giggling between messy kisses. 
“Yeah,” Jake punctuates with another press of his lips on yours, teeth nipping at your bottom lip and drawing out a quiet whimper as he pulls it back towards him and releases it before continuing. 
“It is crazy,” – Another kiss – “You make crazy, Sweets.”
With one more firm peck to your lips, you feel both of Jake’s hands wrap tighter under your thighs, rough fingers squeezing your ass as he hikes you up a bit higher against the wall, pressing impossibly closer to keep you firmly in place. 
The change of the angle combined with his thrusts accelerating in speed has you crying out loud as he ruts up into you, Jake’s lips moving to cover yours once again and muffle the sounds of your moans. 
You shudder against him as his tip prods against that spongy spot inside you that makes stars appear behind your closed lids with each and every thrust, and you feel that coil beginning to tighten again, the familiar heat rapidly licking at the base of your spine.
Jake knows you’re close when your nails begin to dig into his shoulders through the jacket of his tux as you gasp for air, your lips parting from his with a string of saliva still connecting them for a moment that makes him growl as your head lulls back to lean against the wall. Eyes squeezed shut in pleasure as you quietly, breathlessly, cry out his name like a mantra.
Your body is sandwiched tightly between Jake’s and the wall as his length fills you, hips pinned to yours and barely able to pull out on each thrust for how tightly your walls are clamping around him, the coarse but neatly trimmed hairs at the base of his cock deliciously grazing your clit and setting your whole body alight.
He's the only thing keeping you upright when your orgasm hits you. His mouth swallows your cries as your whole body goes taut, holding Jake in a vice grip as you fall apart on his cock. 
Jake can feel it as all of the tension leaves your body. He continues in slow, shallow thrusts, the quiet of the room only accentuating the salacious sounds of your release flooding around him as he works you through your high. 
He pulls back from the kiss as your moans begin to subside to get a look at your fucked out, blissful expression. 
Your eyes are still closed, lips parted and now devoid of any of the nude-pink lipstick shade you’d been wearing before, and your skin glistens with a thin sheen of sweat. 
Your chest rapidly rises and falls beneath the fitted white bodice of your wedding gown, accentuating your cleavage with each little pant as you try to catch your breath.
“So fucking pretty, honey,” Jake begins a light trail of kisses from the corner of your mouth to your warm cheek, and up to your hairline where he whispers against the slightly damp skin. “My beautiful bride.”
Your hands scramble for purchase on his back, whimpering as you attempt to pull him in closer. 
“Jake- '' Your legs tighten around his hips, heels pressing against his backside where they’re crossed at the ankles, your desperate mewl mixing with Jake’s deeper grunt as the movement pushes him even deeper inside of you.  
“‘M so lucky to- to get to call you my husband,” Jake swears that his cocks swells just that little bit more at your loving words. “Cum for me. Wanna feel you.”
“Fuck.” The sweet praise whispered from your pretty lips sends him into a tailspin. 
You’ve barely come down from your high when Jake’s hips quicken their pace as he begins to chase his own release, the beginnings of overstimulation making you cry out a string of broken moans, incoherent whimpers of curses and his name. 
The fullness and the delightful drag of his cock through your tight walls making you clench around him harder, and the assault of his tip against your g-spot leaving you feeling boneless, your grip on his shoulders tightens like you’ll float away at any moment.
The way your velvety walls are squeezing him, your release soaking his length and the obscene sound it creates as he continues to fuck into you, have Jake right on the edge of his own high. 
His head falls to your shoulder where he grunts deeply into the crook of your neck. 
“So good, baby. So good for me.” He praises, peppering sweet kisses to your hot skin, a stark contrast to the harsh force of his hips pounding against yours as they begin to lose their rhythm. 
After a few more sloppy thrusts, Jake finishes inside you with a strangled groan. The familiar sensation of his cum filling your still-spasming walls pulls a contented sigh from your lips. 
Jake’s lips dot a trail of soft kisses along the heated skin of your shoulder and neck, then under your jaw before he lifts his face to be level with yours. Pressing his forehead against your own, the two of you stay there just breathing each other in as you catch your breath.
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When the groomsmen realize just how much time has passed with still no sign of Jake, and with only minutes until the supposed start of the ceremony, Bradley is seeing red. 
For a moment, jumping to the worst conclusion — that Jake may be standing his little sister up on her wedding day — and he’s just about ready to murder the groom.
It’s only when Natasha knocks on the door to the groomsmens’ suite, looking frazzled as she asks him and the other Daggers if any of them have seen the bride, letting them know that you’ve gone missing as well, that Bradley and his wife both quickly come to the realization that the two of you must be together. 
So, Natasha and Bradley begin the hunt to find the soon-to-be newlyweds, the latter rolling his eyes before grumbling, “They’d better not be off somewhere fucking.”
Natasha only responds with a snicker because she knows that’s probably exactly what the two of you were doing. She offers her grumpy husband a sympathetic look and gives his shoulder a comforting squeeze before they split up to search through the maze that is the halls of your wedding venue. 
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In no rush to move just yet, you and Jake just rest for a moment, foreheads pressed together, your body still sandwiched between his broad frame and the wall. His softening cock still inside of you, puffs of air warming each other’s lips as shallow pants become more steady breaths.
You know that you and Jake’s little er —detour— has almost definitely put things behind schedule for your big day, but in this moment you honestly couldn’t care less. 
When it’s just you and the love of your life, bodies intertwined and relishing in each other’s warmth, shared breaths becoming one, you can’t help but think that this day already couldn’t be more perfect.
You feel a flurry of excitement, your heart bursting at the thought that it’s always going to be like this. Solace in the fact that you’re Jake’s and he’s yours, that this is only the beginning of the rest of your lives together. 
He seems to share in the sentiment, pulling back to admire you for a moment before you feel his smile against your skin when he lightly presses his lips to your forehead. 
One of his hands reaches up to cradle your cheek, those green eyes are boring down into your own with that look of pure adoration once again as Jake moves to speak.
“God, I can’t wait to marry you,” His voice is breathy and full of awe–almost a laugh, eyes crinkling up at the corners in that way that you love as his smile begins to take up more of his face. “I’m so happy that you’re gonna be my wife.”
“Jake…” If you thought your heart was bursting before, you think it’s about ready to break free from your chest now, your eyes glistening with emotion as you lovingly look up at him through your lashes.
“You’re gonna make me cry and I don’t want to mess up my makeup any more than I probably already have,”
The two of you share a quiet laugh, smitten as ever as your hand makes its way up to cover his where it still rests on the side of your face. “But, to have you as my husband… I couldn’t be happier.”
Jake leans down to press a chaste kiss to your lips before whispering against them. “Love you, Sweets.”
It’s only after you return his kiss and those three little words that have become as easy to you as breathing, that Jake finally pulls out of you and the two of you let out a simultaneous sigh. 
He reaches down to where the mix of his and your release begins to dribble out of your spent hole, a shattered moan falling from your parted lips as your head lulls back against the wall once more. 
Your legs begin to shake from the overstimulation as two of Jake’s long fingers push his cum back into you, expertly thrusting them in and out a few times before pulling them out again, and you find yourself grateful for the sturdy wall behind you when he purposefully brushes them against your oversensitive clit, leaving you breathless as he shifts your panties back into place to keep his cum inside. 
Your mind is cloudy of all things but Jake — his scent and his warmth and the feeling of his hands all over your skin, his pretty green eyes and his voice and his gorgeously cocky smirk — each one of your senses being invaded by him and you couldn’t be more content. 
And, you love knowing that underneath all the layers of fancy lace and tulle, right before the biggest moments of your lives, that you have his cum inside you.
Just as you part from one another, a knock on the door causes you to jump. 
You can hear Natasha out in the hall calling out your names and you and Jake share a look, wearing matching guilty smiles. 
However, it’s not long before his smile shifts into a more of a smirk, and you have to bite back a giggle as he rolls his green eyes playfully before leaning in to peck your cheek, pulling back to mouth the words ‘you good?’. 
With your grin and nod of confirmation, Jake leaves you with one more kiss, fastening the button on his pants and straightening out his dress shirt as he makes his way over to the door.
He pulls it open, still wearing that signature smirk on his face and Natasha glances up at him before she cautiously peeks her head in to see you too, hair smoothed out as much as you could manage on such short notice, the skirt of your wedding dress now back in place and hiding the fact that Jake’s cum is soaking through your underwear and beginning to drip down your thighs. 
“Thank god you’re clothed. I wasn’t looking to get scarred for life today.” Natasha breathes a sigh of relief and steps fully into the room. 
“You’re lucky you didn’t find us five minutes earlier.” Jake chuckles as you lightly smack his chest, that ever-cocky smile on his handsome face that you’ve come to love so very much over these last three years. 
You can’t help but snicker along with him when you catch sight of Natasha’s nose wrinkling in disgust. 
“Ok, ew… And you’re lucky I found you and not Bradley.” Natasha gives Jake a glare before clapping her hands in front of both of your faces. “Now come on, hurry the fuck up. The ceremony — your wedding ceremony — is about to start soon.”
You nod your head frantically, as if only just remembering where, and when, you are.
“Right, yeah! I just gotta go… clean up a bit.” you squeak out to your sister-in-law with a bashful grin before scurrying off the bathroom of the suite you’d snuck into. 
Natasha just gives Jake a deadpan look that conveys her slight disgust before leaving the room, making her way out into the hall to call Bradley and let the him know that she’s located the happy couple. 
After taking care of the mess between your legs and wiping off the smudged remnants of your lipstick in the bathroom mirror, you return to find Jake, who’s leaning up against the wall opposite the door, looking cool and calm and handsome as ever in his tux. 
Making your way over to him, you wrap your arms around his broad shoulders, letting out a little snort as your hands reach up to delicately fix his hair where it sticks out in a few places—no doubt from your tugging on it during your recent activities. 
Once Jake’s golden locks are back in a more presentable state, you smooth a hand down the nape of his neck, leaning up to attach your lips firmly to his. 
Jake groans into it as his mouth moves against yours with just as much fervor, his hands reaching blindly for your waist to pull you in closer, and the two of you share one last passionate kiss that you hope conveys both your love for him and your excitement to be marrying him — though Jake already knows. 
“Alright, Natasha’s going to kill me if I don’t get back in the next two minutes.” You pull away from his lush lips, reluctantly and breathlessly, wanting to live in this moment with him forever. 
Your arms unwrap themselves from behind Jake’s neck, but you don’t get very far when he reaches out to take one of your hands in his own, and you can tell he’s just as reluctant to end the moment too when he brings it up to his lips to kiss a trail from your knuckles to the tips of your fingers.
“Yeah, I’m not really looking forward to dealing with your brother either.” 
His words make you laugh in that sweet, boisterous way that he’s so ready to hear for the rest of his life and with that, Jake chuckles and lets you go, his hand still holding onto yours until you’re too far out of reach. 
Jake calls out your name just as you reach the door and you stop short, turning around to face him just as you pull it open. You stand in the threshold, brows raised, and look at him expectantly. 
“See ya out there, my beautiful bride.”
You’re surprised your cheeks don’t perpetually hurt from how much this man makes you smile.
“Wouldn’t miss it for the world, my dashing groom.” You leave him with a playful wink and that intoxicating smile, in a flash of flowing white fabric as you quickly retreat into the hallway. 
Jake chuckles to himself, moving over to the mirror to make sure he looks presentable, smoothing a hand over his hair and giving himself one last once-over before he makes his way back to his groomsmen. 
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Trailing behind Natasha, you quickly make your way through the halls back to the bridal suite, giving her your most innocent smile when she peers back at you over her shoulder with a pointed look.
Your sister-in-law sends you a half-hearted scoff and a playful roll of her brown eyes, but you can see the smirk just beginning to grow at the corner of her lips before she turns and reaches out to open the door. 
“Come on.” Natasha half laughs, half groans, ushering you into the room.
Before you know it, you’ve got a plethora of people surrounding you once again — one giving your dress a very last minute steam to get rid of any wrinkles your activities with Jake a few minutes earlier had caused, others rushing around to touch up your hair and makeup and to finally pin up your veil. Although, this time around, you find that you’re unbothered. Feeling a lot more at ease, and you’re back in tip-top shape in record time. 
You’re practically vibrating in excitement and anticipation as Natasha and the rest of your bridal party shower you with hugs and their own squeals of excitement and encouragement before they make their way outside to the beautifully set up venue to get into their places for the ceremony. 
You give yourself one final once-over in the mirror, unable to curb the smile that grows at how beautiful you feel. 
It's only a few moments later when Bradley pokes his head in the door once more to ask if you’re ready. He takes in the giddy — and much more self-assured than earlier  —  smile on your face when you turn to him and nod your head excitedly. 
“Ya know, you can still back out of this if you wanted.” Your brother jokes, his tone teasing as his mustached lips form into a sly grin.
With a punch to your older brother’s shoulder, you pin Bradley with a pointed look and a sarcastic ‘ha ha’.
“Come on, I’m sure the Bronco would make a great getaway car!” He chuckles as your eyes widen in surprise.
“Bradley!” You move to punch his arm again, but he quickly ducks out of the way this time, and though your eyes are now narrowed at him in a feigned scowl, Bradley can tell that you’re not really angry with him by the way your lips are fighting back pulling up into a smile. 
“Don’t worry, I’ll be sure to hold my peace when that part comes up.” He raises his hands up in surrender and you can’t help but laugh along with Bradley’s joke, though not without a playful shake of your head and roll of your eyes. 
“You better!” Your big brother flinches as you lurch at him again, but this time, instead of hitting him, your fingers reach up to pinch his ear and it’s like the two of you are kids again; you giggling maniacally while Bradley — now a big, tough 6’1 fighter pilot — yelps in pain, arms flailing as he tries to get out of your grip.
He’d probably pull your hair like he did when you were kids too, if it wasn’t all styled to perfection with your beautiful sheer veil pinned to the crown of it, all ready for your big day. 
“I will, I will!” Bradley hisses through his teeth, chuckling as you release your hold on him to grab your bouquet that’s a beautiful mix of both yours and Jake’s favorite flowers, and then move to link your arm with his to begin the path down the hall. The path to the rest of your life and you couldn’t be more excited. 
As your brother guides you through the venue’s winding halls towards the doors to where the outdoor ceremony is being held, a gentle grin befalls your lips as you think about how you got here — and your big brother’s part in all of it. 
“You know… I know you told all the guys at your wedding to steer clear of me.” 
Bradley stops in his tracks at your divulgence, pulling you to a quick stop as well and nearly tripping you over your heels and the fabric of your long wedding gown.
“You wha- huh? You know?!” 
Admittedly, Bradley thought he was taking that secret to his grave.
“Yeah, I know.” You can’t help but giggle at your brother’s flustered expression. “Jake told me, a few months after we started dating.”
You’ve known for almost three years and you never said anything. Huh. 
Bradley stands there with his lips parted, but no words are coming out. He’s still in shock at the fact that you’re laughing about this. 
“So… you’re not mad?” He asks the question apprehensively, a grimace on his face as he awaits your answer. 
“No, I’m not mad.” You shake your head, still smiling as an airy laugh escapes you. 
“Well, maybe I was for like a second back then. But, I appreciate how much you want to protect me, Bradley. Even if it does make you an idiot sometimes.” 
You playfully roll your eyes and Bradley finally relaxes, shoulders dropping as he laughs along with you. 
“For what it’s worth, you and Jake actually aren’t a half-bad couple.” You playfully smack his chest in response to the — albeit sweet — jest. 
“Thank you.” You beam up at your brother, content knowing that that’s his way of letting you know he truly is happy for you and Jake. 
Bradley links his arm with yours again and continues leading you towards the doors. “I wish Mom and Dad could see how beautiful you look today. They’d be so proud.” 
“Oh, come on, Bradley! You’re gonna make me cry off my makeup!” You whisper-yell at him half jokingly as you finally reach the doors that will lead you out to the ceremony — to where you’ll very soon be married to the love of your life. 
“Me too.” Giving Bradley’s arm a gentle squeeze, the two of you share a smile, knowing that your parents will be there in spirit. And grateful for the fact that your uncle Mav who’s always been like a third parent to you will be there too. “Now, come on. Let’s go get me married!”
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The wedding ceremony goes off without a hitch — albeit a little bit later than planned. 
When the music starts and Bradley walks you down the aisle, you’re surrounded by the smiling faces of friends and family. 
Although, your eyes are only on Jake — looking so unbelievably handsome in his tux and his wide smile and you can’t believe just how lucky you got — and his mossy green eyes are focused on only you. 
Both of your eyes shine with tears and it’s as if only the two of you exist in that moment when you meet him at the altar, the two of you happily joining hands with matching lovesick grins adorning your faces.
Though he’ll never admit it — and Natasha will never let him live it down — Bradley definitely shed a few tears himself as he listened to you and Jake exchange your vows. 
It’s been a long day of running around getting ready for the ceremony — and sneaking off for a quickie, of course — before marrying your soulmate in front of practically everyone you know, then taking countless family photos and enjoying a cocktail hour with your friends and family showering you and Jake in congratulations and well wishes. 
But, it’s all worth it because you’re finally able to call Jake your husband and you couldn’t be happier.
You’re both more than ready for the reception, ready to let loose and enjoy your time together as a newlyweded couple. 
After a nice dinner comes the best man and maid of honor speeches from Javy and Natasha, and a speech from Uncle Mav that includes a few embarrassing anecdotes about your childhood that have you giggling as you hide your face in Jake’s shoulder. 
Then it’s time for the newlyweds to make a toast before sharing your first dance to Fleetwood Mac’s Everywhere, the first song you and Jake danced to on the night when you met three years ago at your brother’s wedding. 
The two of you hold each other close and sway along to the music without a care in the world, Jake dipping you towards the end of the song and claiming your lips in a long kiss that has the entire room cheering — although again, it’s as if you and Jake are the only two who exist in that moment.
When Jake pulls back from the kiss, one of his large palms is still cupping your cheek, fingers gently grazing your skin as his green eyes gaze down at you in adoration. 
“I can’t believe you’re my wife.” He lightly shakes his head in disbelief. “I’m never gonna stop saying that — my wife.”
You’re smiling against one another’s lips as you pull Jake down for another kiss, giggling when you mouth parts from his. 
“I love you so much, my husband.”
You can see that familiar look of both adoration and hunger beginning to overtake Jake’s features in response to your words as your first dance comes to an end.
After sharing what would traditionally be a father-daughter dance with Mav, he returns you into your husband’s loving arms as others begin to join in on the fun, the dance floor now filling up with your guests. 
Jake sees his opportunity to whisk you away from the dancefloor, using the commotion to make a sneaky getaway — again. 
You should be used to it by now — his large hand warmly encompassing yours and pulling you along with him — but you still can’t help the giggles that break free as you quicken your pace to match his as best as you can in your heels, sprinting until the two of you have disappeared from dancefloor, and soon from your wedding reception entirely.   
Out of the ballroom doors and into the empty hallway, the loud music and sounds of your guests having fun now a muffled to barely-there background noise, you find yourself alone with Jake. Your husband.
You pull on Jake’s hand to bring him to a stop in front of you, turning him around and pulling him in closer to you as you lean your back against the closed door, gazing up at him with a lip-bitten smile. 
“What are we doing?” You question through a breathless laugh, although you’re pretty sure you already know the answer. 
Jake’s broad frame crowds you in closer to the door and you find your breaths coming in quicker as he presses the front of his body up against yours.
Your eyes flutter shut as he leans down even closer, his nose gently brushing yours, lips just shy of touching your own. His breath fans against them and it sends a shiver down your spine, a jolt going straight to your core when he speaks.
“Well, we’ve gotta consummate our marriage, Sweets.” Jake whispers against you, his mouth just barely grazing your own. “And I’d like to consummate it as soon as possible.”
The evident hunger in his voice has you frantically nodding against him, eyes still squeezed shut when you feel his front press impossibly closer to you — and the growing bulge there. “Yeah?”
“Yeah, honey. Gonna consummate the shit out of you.” 
Jake’s whispered words, and their mirthy tone, have you bursting into a fit of giggles, your head falling back against the door behind you. His own laugh joins in with yours as you shake your head at his silliness. You love this man so much.
Your hands reach up to the sides of his neck to pull your husband down for a kiss, lips and teeth clashing as neither of you can break the smiles from your faces. 
“You’re such a dork, Seresin.” You whisper sweetly against Jake’s lips.
“Yeah, but you love it… Mrs. Seresin.” His large hands squeeze your hips, both the heat you feel on your skin through the lacy fabric of your dress and the name making you giddy.
“Well… lead the way, Mr. Seresin!” 
You’re unable to contain the massive smile that breaks out on your face as Jake presses one last kiss to your lips, before grabbing your hand and beginning to pull you along with him once more, and you don’t care where takes you as long as your hand gets to be intertwined with his for the rest of your lives. 
Thank you for reading! x
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kisspurins · 3 months
Text
hold me tight 𓍯𓂃 𓏧 ♡
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୨୧ pairings|bestfriend! anton x reader
୨୧ wc|3.3k
୨୧ warnings|smut with plot,dubcon,mentions drinking,mouth fucking with fingers,spit play (kinda),size kink,frat boy!anton,fat cock anton,unprotected sex,tongue kissing,thigh riding,praising,crying,dumbification,breeding
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you didn't think much of it when anton invited you to his frats house party.
you've known anton since freshman year when you were taller than him and he had a buzz cut from a stupid dare he followed through with the day before school started back. he'd been someone you always took the role of protecting before he grew into his looks and puberty hit him mid sophomore year and suddenly he was towering over you instead. anton has always been sweet but after he joined swimming and left your social circle, slowly that facade became apart of him only you knew and thats what kept you close.
so there was no surprise when he showed up to your dorm room asking if you wanted to be his plus one to his frats yearly welcoming party.
"please the guys always ask about you!" raising up from your bed you give him a look, brows furrowed, "the guys know about me?" without thinking your best friend was nodding, "yeah I talk about you all the time." his sentence came out rushed and when he realized what he just said he stopped his pacing around your room turning to face you.
"not—" "really? what do you tell them?" you interrupted, big smile spreading your face as he stumbled over his words. anton huffed, cheeks tinted a light red when he looked you in the eye. "are you coming or not?" you shrug twisting the strings dangling on your shorts with your finger. "I'll come but you better not leave me."
you should've known better than to trust anton of all people to stick beside you at a party.
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the room was hotter than you expected it to be, even with the windows open to let the night air circulate, there was too many sweaty bodies pressing against each other to cool down the room. sometime in the beginning you had already lost sight of anton to some sorority girl, and unlike him, one thing you aren't interested in is sucking up to some people you know you'll never talk to again after college. the red plasic cup in your hand, your second one, is empty from your nervous sipping, leaving your head cloudy and vision blurry. and the flashing lights made everything 10x worse for your headache, not to mention how impossible it is to find anton like this.
you remember how much you hate being a lightweight while you sloppily stumble through the crowd. you pushed yourself down the hallway, hands pressed into the wall while you made your way further down to antons room. you weren't very familiar with frat parties since you decided against joining in on the weekly mixers after a one night stand you couldn't remember, but you did know your way around antons frat house. hes sneaked you in a couple times while his friends were out claiming "if they saw a pretty girl like you, they would ravage you." and you didn't fight him on it.
you're two seconds away from almost throwing yourself into anton's door when it opens, flinging you to collide against someones hard chest. "I'm soooo sorry!" you gapsed, hands reaching to feel on the person who protected your fall, "I was just about to come find you."
pausing for a moment you look up, giggling when you notice you're feeling up on anton. "there you aree! you got so big tonieee?" "you're drunk already? I barely left you alone."
If you were sober you would've recognized the worry in his voice, but all you can think about now is how sweet it is, like he uses the most gentle tone he has only for you. “Its been half an hour dummy…” you trailed off, "left me alone for that long!"
“I'm sorry angel.”
“It's okayy!"
you catch the "angel" too late. eyes fluttering up at him while you melt into his arms wrapped securely around your waist, hoping he couldn’t tell in the dark entryway how that one word made you feel so gushy.
"gonna take you inside okay?" you nod to his words. there wasn’t much space between you two at all, the tips of your feet only a few inches apart. anton sat you on his bed, running to turn on his lamp instead of the big light because you were already having trouble focusing. across from you, anton leaned back against the wall, crossing his arms over his chest. It was easy to look at him. he was so enamoring. everything about him was all consuming.
"how many drinks did you have? do you want water to sober you up?"
you shake your head no, leaning back to snuggle up in his bed. "m fine right here." anton doesn't protest, just hums before he's walking up to you and slipping in the empty space next to you. purposely laying on the edge so you can't fall if you were to drunkenly roll over. "can I hold you?" he asks, voice light and clear, "you don't need to say yes if you don't want to right now." you consider, thinking about giggling at anton and wrapping yourself up in his embrace, becoming another one of his easy girls he can cross off a list. but you also think about how you've been friends with anton this long and hes never been a bad guy. how you know for sure he wouldn't hurt you, or use and leave you. "okay but you have to hold me tight."
anton hummed in response again then his strong arms were holding you to his chest. you feel the vibrations from him talking on your back and it's enough that it almost rocked you right to sleep. "what happened to the girl?" you asked, sudden curiosity peaking your interest. "she wanted to get high and have a quick fuck." you peeked over your shoulder when he spoke, his words lingering for a bit. you didn't know what to say to that. sorry? oh cool? you rake your head for something, anything, but anton was already clearing his throat, "I stopped smoking." "oh" "yeah"
you two didn't speak anymore after that. your head stayed drifting from the alcohol and anton just held you like this was natural for him and it probably was. he was so warm you could practically feel the heat radiating off his body making you unbelievably sticky. and maybe the alcohol was making your talk so bold, you spoke without realizing. "can I take off this dress? it's so hot tonie." you whined a little shuffling around. anton pressed his fingers deep into your hips stopping your movements, "will you chill out?" he asked between gritted teeth. "why?" you teased, quickly forgetting all about the stickiness you felt. "gonna pop a boner over this?" you said swiveling your hips making sure to directly press against his crotch more. "you're drunk yn," he hissed, "you don't know the things I'm capable of doing to you."
"what're you gonna do? take advantage of me?" anton’s eyes are dark as he listens to you, hands already working to flip you over. face to face with him now, your confidence slips. "what—what are you doing tonie?" his hands sneak up to cup your face, one of his thumbs caressing across your cheek. "shhh it'll be okay. don't you trust me?" you've never doubted anton.
the thumb caressing your cheek inches its way to your lips and instinctively your mouth drops open for him. "awww, been waiting for me?” you whine when he teases and doesn't press his thumb on your tongue like you wanted. "don't you have manners baby?" you whimper at his words. his voice is so much deeper then you were used to, sharp and assertive. "please tonieee... need your fingers please please?"
anton knows in the morning you'll be scared and confused waking up naked next to him. the thought of your wide teary eyes while you try to remember what you did last night, it turned him on. being able to have you like this was a rare opportunity and what kind of friend would he be not to take care of you when you're begging for him so much?
"you're such a good girl. the sweetest girl ever." your face lights up when anton is sweet, eyes practically sparkling when you stick out your tongue waiting for him.
anton caresses your cheek again, this time pushing his thumb to glide over your top lip knowing you would get more impatient waiting. your mouth is warm and pretty, so delicate hes afraid he'll break you when he presses his thumb on your tongue and you gag just from the touch. his heartbeat is loud in his ears as he watches you resisting the urge to wrap your lips around him. "fuck," he gasps pushing further back and your eyes get watery. "go ahead baby."
immediately you're wrapping your lips around his thumb humming in satisfaction. your tongue swirls around his finger and anton swears he can feel his dick twitching. and just to be mean, he pulls out his finger. you whine in protest, head falling forward a little to chase after him and before you can vocalize your feelings, anton's pushing his index and middle finger back past your pretty lips. he almost forgets theres still a party going on just a few doors down, indecent noises of suction blocking out the faded music in the background.
"you're so perfect," anton breathes out, starting to fuck your mouth open with his fingers. spit starts leaking at the corner of your mouth, dripping onto his wrist. you're so shameless when your mouth is full, eyes closed and hips bucking. anton can't stop himself from commenting. "all this time all i had to do to shut you up was stuff your mouth?" you're too hypnotised by the feel of his fingers going in and out of your mouth to register anything he says.
"come on baby," anton mumbles pulling out his fingers as slow as possible and still you break out into a fit of tears, breathing hard and pulling for his hand again. "wh—what! no! no no tonie please!" "shhh don't have to make this hard." he coos to try to calm you down. It works for a second but then you're crying again shuffling closer to him.
"don't be a crybaby. I promise I'm gonna take care of you, pretty." anton says, hands working down your body to grope your ass. you whine when he squeezes, teary eyes focusing up at him. "not a crybaby! you're just so—" your words get stuck in your throat when he inches your dress up, "mhm?" "so mean." you huff and he laughs, hands gripping your ass again. "always wanted to do this to you.." your thighs clench together when he says that and like he expected it, he was prying them open with this thigh replacing the space himself.
"ton.." you drag out, your hips unconsciously moving slowly on his thigh. anton was quick to catch the hint, lifting his leg up a bit more to give you more friction as you grind harder, your body moving on it’s own as you ramble incoherently. “I know baby, couldn't help yourself. just a dumb little thing huh?" you shake your head no, hands trembling when you reach up to pull his head closer to you. "kiss me please?" you glance from his lips to his eyes, hips starting to stutter when you make eye contact and he licks his lips, "please—please kiss me.." "you sure?" you nod eagerly closing your eyes.
the longer the wait the more your heart races. something about this situation makes you feel desperate and mushy. you've never wanted so bad for someone to kiss you and the fact that its anton makes things harder, you can barely think of anything besides how this feels so intimate. his hands move to brush your hair away from your face softly, a touch that usually doesn't affect you but then he starts tucking your stray hairs behind your ears and your heart is fluttering. he listlessly leans forward, gently pressing his lips onto yours with a light pressure. your heart skips a beat with the realisation that your best friend is kissing you on the lips. you forget all about your achy cunt when kissing him, his lips so soft and pillowy you feel yourself getting dumb.
everything feels like it’s spinning when anton slips his tongue into your mouth, trying to focus on syncing up but its hard when it feels so foreign and it makes you foggy thinking about him tasting the alcohol off your tongue. naturally, you let him take the pace and your mouths get more accustomed to one another and it makes you wonder what was so hard about this at first. the kiss is so slow and overwhelming, tongues twisting together while spit drips from the corner of your mouth. you don't notice when hes pushing himself over you, fingers hooking under the thin strap of your panties.
"knew you wanted this," anton laughed, hand dropping down to cup your cunt. "poor girl is leaking everywhere." you whinced at his words, your knees trying to knock together to squeeze and keep him there. "don't be mean" you can hear anton let out a breath before he's prying your legs open and giving your cunt a little tap. "don't do that anymore." your lip tuts out at his harsh tone. when he gets stern like that its a little scary and you can feel every fiber in your being aching to obey him. blinking up at him, you mumble a little “sorry” and let him touch you.
anton moves slowly, sliding his finger up to your swollen clit and circling it through your panties. there’s an intense amount of heat surging between you two. the way you’re positioned with him, his large frame caging you between the bed and his hand that pushes into you doesn’t help anything. you can feel yourself get more slick the more he puts pressure on your clit. "please.. need more ton,"
he hums, letting his fingers slip under your panties, now directly pressing on your nub. your back arches off the bed waiting for him to do more and he lets you get caught up. "tonie..” you whimper. he looks up from your cunt and hes so pretty your thighs twitch. “mhm?” "take clothes off please? so hot.." as soon as you utter the words, your eyes were trailing to the side, embarrassment settling in your chest.
"you're so smart baby." he says withdrawing his fingers. you stay still in your position, watching his every movement. anton is teasing when he lifts his shirt over his head, arms flexing so much it makes your mouth watery. you try to follow him, fumbling to pull off your dress in a rush while he's taking off his pants. you're moving slower than you thought because when you're done with your dress, anton is moving back in between your legs hands working to slip off your panties. your head is so consumed you just let him manhandle you, eyes fixating on his dick. so girthly and heavy resting on his stomach.
everything moves so fast when hes towering over you again, hand pressing over your tummy while he glides himself up and down your slit.
you always knew anton was big. you've spent so many nights with him, you were used to seeing him in a pair of grey sweats and those leave everything to the imagination. and with the way he talks extra cocky about himself, you had no doubt. but the feeling of his tip pressing to your hole is too much. forcing its way into your snug cunt, you gasp so sweetly, eyes watering while your hole clenches around him. your swollen lips drop into a pretty little "oh!" and he smiles.
“hnng— tonie s’too big! can't!" “you can do it for me, pretty.” his breath is hot against your ear. “I’ll make it fit.”you already feel so cockdrunk, struggling to keep your eyes open as he bullies his fat tip into your sloppy hole. anton's cock twitches so good inside you at the sight. "come on baby, stay with me." he huffs out, too stuck on the way your pussy is spread open so shamefully for him. you moan breathlessly at each push, pussy squelching while he splits you apart. you can't help but to try and squirm away. "ton... too much—" you whimpered, "really can't— ah! ah ah!" anton breaks you off, big arms wrapping around your hips so you can’t run from him. you squeal when he traps you and then he's pulling you down down down onto his thick cock.
“see pretty," he groans, bottoming out in one swift thrust "could take all of me. don't know what you're talking about." your head shakes no, the strech is enough to break you but anton's not stopping till he’s buried in your dripping cunt all the way to the hilt. you can't think. you don't even realize your tongue is sticking out until he pulls out and leans down to suck on it when he pushes back in, his balls smacking against your ass in the process. you're so overwhelmingly full of him, you can't kiss back. letting him suck n pull on the muscle.
drool drips delicately down your mouth at how animalistically he was treating your mouth. no longer sweet and gentle but instead gross and rough. pulling away from you, he smirks as he begins to pull out inch by inch agonizingly slow. "pussy belongs to me now." he hums, cock ramming into you.
the pace he starts up is numbing and makes you delirious. “oh! oh my— oh my god! nnng please!”you can do nothing but lay there and take it as anton edges you closer and closer to cumming. “gonna fill you up.” he whispers, voice raw and dripping with desperation. "need to make you mine. like that pretty? wanna be my girlfriend?" you nod eagerly, "already— already yours t—tonie!" that spurs him on. he increases his pace impossibly, so rough your skin is stinging where his balls smack your ass, fucked out little "ah! ah! ah!" leaving your lips each time his hips hit yours.  "fuck you're so cute,” he trails off dangerously, gaze unfocusing on the creamy white ring forming around his base to look in your eyes, “need you like this forever..”
“yes yes yes, please! forever please please!” hes fully intent on keeping you babbling for him or until you physically couldn't anymore, pulling one of your legs to hang off his shoulder so he can hit impossibly deeper. your eyes go wide when he starts hitting your womb, fingers digging into his arms. "right there! oh! tonie right there!" little yelps leave you, “feel you! feel it s’deep!”
“yeah? right here?” he purrs, tip pressing more into that mushy spot. his eyes are dark and glinting with something predatory as they greedily lock onto the way his cock fucks in and out of you. your body moves with every thrust, headboard knocking into the wall repeatedly you know people can hear it too. anton's thrusts get sloppy when hes close, body leaning over to groan into your ear. "gonna cum baby?" you wrap your arms around his torso to pull him closer, needing to feel his heart beating against yours before pressing your lips to his cheek. "cumming tonie!!"
you cum so hard your body shakes in anton's arms, not registering that he just came inside at this point, too exhausted and cock drunk that all you can feel is anton pulsing inside you. "ton.... s'much— inside so— so much.." you moan softly, words slurring together. sloppy hole quivering at the feeling of being so overfilled. “I know baby,” he whispers, voice light and sweet again. he waits patiently for you to unlatch for him so he can clean you up, not wanting to accidentally trigger you. instead of lessening your grip, you snuggle more into him.
"please just hold me tight?"
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© KISSPURINS 2024 ✿
1K notes · View notes
mariasont · 3 months
Note
maria, i have an ideaaa!!
bimbo!assistant!reader goes on a date with a really shitty guy. and she sneaks away to the back door and calls hotch in the alley to come and save her (it’s also raining). she’s all wet and her makeup’s all ruined when hotch comes.
he then takes her back to his place and takes care of her… and… mushy soft fluffiness happens… and maybe feelings are confessed… and maybe a kiss or 2 happens…🥰💖
TALK ABOUT A BAD DATE - A.H
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a/n: genius, genius, you are an absolute genius!!!!!!!!!!! this was probably my fav bimbo!reader fic to write <3 thank you sm for requesting
masterlist
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pairings: aaron hotchner x bimbo!assistant!reader
warnings: um the rain takes out reader's shirt, so she does kinda flash him for a hot sec, hotch also blatantly checks out her ass, cuties being sickeningly cute, cuties kiss in 4k
wc: 2k
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A perfect, flawless, stunning, never-been-done before outfit wasted on a loser of a guy. Your makeup had taken an hour alone, your hair—well, you didn't even want to think about it because you were certain you were starting to break out in hives.
You steadied yourself against the brick wall, the uneven asphalt beneath your heels threatening to take you down as you fished your phone from the depths of your purse.
You dialed the first number you could think of--Hotch's. His was also the only one you had memorized. The battery icon flashed a warning of five percent as you hunched beneath the alleyway's awning, trying to shield yourself from the rain. You desperately hoped he'd pick up.
There was frankly no plan B if he didn't. Go back inside and ask you so-called date for a ride? That was not an option. The moment he pulled up in one of those big trucks, with its deafening music and roaring engine, you regretted not driving yourself. After all, you were well aware what men were compensating for with a big truck.
"Hotchner."
His voice was gruff, the sound slightly distorted by the speaker. You imagined he had just walked through his door, despite the time being eight o'clock on a Friday night. He was presumably preparing to pour his routine glass of scotch.
"Sir, it's me," you said, attempting to ignore the relentless raindrops assaulting your makeup--a battle they seemed intent on winning. Clearly, the concept of setting spray was foreign to them. "Can I ask you for a favor? If you say yes, I pinky promise I'll stop rearranging your desk. I know you have a system, but it just looks so bland sometimes."
"I'm going to overlook that desk comment," he stated, his sigh audible through the phone. You could picture the pensive frown that came with it. "What do you need?"
You drew your lips into a tight line, looking down to watch the rain mock the effort you had put into your outfit.
"Can you come pick me up? Pretty please with sugar on top?"
"Pick you up? From where? Are you okay?"
You shivered slightly, your free hand instinctively rubbing warmth into your arm. You should've brought a jacket. The thought of sharing this evening's failings with your boss did not sound appealing, so you avoided most of his questions.
"I'll text you the location, okay?"
"Okay, yes, I'll be there. Just stay put."
You thanked him and followed that by a double promise to stay put (he didn't believe you the first time). You also told him you'd wait inside, which was less than truthful. The thought of getting drenched was far more attractive than the prospect of bumping in that women-hating boy again.
You didn't have to wait long, thankfully, spotting Hotch's car turn into the alley, the headlights flaring up like spotlights against your face. You used a manicured hand to shield your eyes, narrowing them against the glare. The distinct sound of a door opening and closing signaled his arrival, and soon, Hotch was striding towards you.
"Christ, get in the car," Hotch insisted, more a command than a suggestion.
He was by your side in an instant, his arm on yours as he opened your door and helped you in. Then, unexpectedly, he reached over you to fasten the seatbelt. You giggled, his hand pausing just above your thigh.
"What?"
The rain gently streamed over his perfect skin, his hair now saturated and plastered to his brow, his blue dress shirt bearing the brunt of the downpour.
"You don't trust me to buckle my own seatbelt?"
"I don't trust you with a lot of things." Completely false. "For instance, your choice of men." Completely true.
He clicked the seatbelt into place and swung the door shut, cutting off any chance of a response, then moved around the car to the driver's side.
You can't help but pout, even as your eyes traced the line of his jaw. "How'd you know?"
Any trace of annoyance vanished as quickly as it came as he placed a hand behind you, giving you an even better view of his profile while he reversed the car. Your focus shifted to the ripple of muscles under his shirt.
"I'm trained to know when someone is in distress and you practically spelled it out. The restaurant, the clothes..." His voice tapered off, disguising his pause with a cough while his gaze flickered over your outfit, his cheeks tinged with a fleck of red. "I've got a spare sweatshirt in the back if you need it."
You traced his line of sight to your chest. Emitting a small squeak, you quickly shielded yourself with your arms, realizing that your white top had become completely see through.
"Totally not embarassing," you say, pursing your lips as you unbuckle your seatbelt.
"It's fine," Hotch insists, but you don't miss how his eyes are now careful not to drift from the road. "Put your seatbelt back on."
"I can't reach the sweatshirt."
You shift to face the back, knees planted on your seat as you lean over to grab just the thing you were looking for. In the rearview mirror you catch the brief moment his eyes do stray, discreetly (or so he thought) sweeping over your ass.
A self-satisfied smile crept across you face as you slid back into your seat, slipping on the sweatshirt. It smelled like him—an intoxicating blend of aged leather and pine. You liked it. A lot.
"So do you wanna talk about it?"
You really didn't. With a sigh, you dug through your purse for your lip gloss. Flipping down the passenger mirror, you froze, confronting your reflection.
"Hotch, didn't you think to mention my face is all... smudgy?"
Your mascara (and setting spray) had betrayed you, leaving dark trails down your cheeks and a slightly unhinged look.
"Your face is perfect," Hotch remarks dryly, like he was tired of you, he undoubtedly was. You were a handful after all. "Why are you avoiding my question?"
You let out a delighted gasp.
"Did you just say my face is perfect?" Leaning over the console, you tap his nose with your finger. "You're just the sweetest."
The look Hotch gives you is flat, expectant as if he knows just what you were trying to do.
"Okay, okay, fine, it was just a terrible date. Like, Hotch, I'm talking disaster-level bad. He made fun of my job, ate like a toddler, and his truck? He wouldn't shut up about it." Your hands are now shuffling through the contents of your purse in a panic. "And now, I can't find my keys."
"Your house keys?"
A breath of frustration flows from you, fingers pulling through your hair as you nod. "Dang it."
You felt a slight unraveling in your usual poise, and the panicking that came with it. Hotch's hand landed on your shoulder, his thumb grazing across your collarbone.
"Hey, it's fine. It's late, and you're upset. You can stay at my place tonight, I'll crash on the couch, and we'll find your keys in the morning."
He made everything seem so simple.
"I'm not upset," you insist, lips pursing as you angle your body just enough to feel his touch more fully.
His hands felt right on you.
He chuckled quietly, his thumb tracing a path from your shoulder to brush away the solitary tear beneath your eye that you hadn't noticed before.
"Must be a raindrop," you shrug. Hotch's soft laugh tells you he doesn't quite buy it. "Are you sure you don't mind me staying over?"
"I'm certain."
"Okay."
"So why did your date make fun of your job?"
"Because," you start, your fingertip lazily sketching doodles on the misted car window, "when I was telling him about being an assistant and working for you, he implied that the only reason you hired me was so you had something pretty to look at."
"Well, he's not entirely wrong."
You let out a surprised giggle. "Hotch!"
You reach over the console, pinching his arm which he just laughed off, pulling into what you assumed was his driveway. You had never been to his house. It was nice. Really nice, the kind you'd find in movies—not imposing, but inviting, with its brick walls and stout brown pillars framing the porch.
You were even more surprised when you entered the house. The image you had of Hotch's house one of meticulous order, a place where you could hear the tick of a clock from rooms away. But this... this was a home. There were throw blankets casually draped over the couch, books overflowing, armchairs worn in just the right places.
You lean down, intent on stripping off the torturous heels, but a wobble has you teetering. Hotch is quick to step in.
"Here," he offers, lifting each foot in turn to his knee, skillfully undoing the straps and easing them off you.
Standing flat-footed, you suddenly feel much shorter, and you wonder if Hotch has ever seen you without them.
You look up at him, smiling cheekily. "My very own prince charming."
He ignored you and moved through the living room. "Do you want a pair of sweatpants?"
"Sharing clothes now, are we? I bet there's a clause against this in the employee handbook."
Hotch raises an eyebrow, "I don't think I need to remind you of the numerous times I've overlooked your creative interpretations of the handbook rules."
"So you're admitting to showing me favoritism?"
You plucked the sweatpants from his hands, not giving him an option to respond as you shuttled yourself into his bathroom. You changed quickly, trading your sopping wet clothes for Hotch's dry, warm ones.
You reentered the living room to find Hotch reclining on the couch with an ease that was new to your eyes. He, too, had slipped into something more comfortable—sweats and a form fitting grey long sleeve that threatened to distract you completely.
You dropped your purse onto the coffee table and settled next to him, maybe a little closer than you should have.
He let out a sound that was more a breath than a laugh, a sound that all the same made your heart flutter unexpectedly. "You've still got some, uh, makeup under your eyes."
He reached up to wipe it away with his thumb.
"It won't come off that way," you said, grabbing his wrist with a soft smile. "I have makeup wipes in my purse."
But he didn't hand you your bag like you would've thought, instead he dug through it, pulling out the wipes and starting to dab at your face. The softness of his touch felt disarmingly intimate, so gentle it coaxed your eyes to flutter more slowly, eyelids becoming more heavy.
Your head tilted downward and Hotch used his free hand to tilt it back up. "Stay still, or I'm going to poke your eye out."
"You're making me sleepy," you murmur, your voice a soft, drowsy hum, but then he moved the wipe to your lips and suddenly you were anything but.
He was even more gentle with your lips, if that was possible, wiping away the gloss like you were made of glass.
Your eyes snapped open, and you found yourself gazing into his warm, brown-sugared eyes, your heart thundering in your chest. You could feel the warmth of his breath against your skin. How did you get so close? You weren't sure, but he was there, noses almost touching.
He pulled away the wipe, using his thumb to clean up left over gloss though you were sure there wasn't any. His hand paused there, resting on your lower lip like it was meant to be there. You felt every fiber of your being stand on high alert. You wondered what he was thinking.
Did he want to kiss you as much as you wanted to kiss him?
"Are you going to kiss me?" You asked, half-hopeful, half-daring, giving a microphone to your inner monologue.
He took a moment, eyes flickering from your lips to your eyes then back down again. "Yes."
It was certain. Like there was no doubt about it, but he didn't move.
"Okay, I'm ready," you breathed out, pulse roaring in your ears.
Hotch's laughter was a low and warm sound. You had heard it a lot tonight.
"You kill me," he said, and it wasn't patronizing—it was affectionate and genuine, and it made your whole body turn to mush.
Then his lips were on yours, and you were both laughing, the sound muffled by lips. It was tentative at first but it quickly morphed into something sweet and soft and perfect.
"Aren't you glad my date went terribly?" you mumbled into his soft skin.
"Devastatingly glad."
One thing was clear—Hotch was not going to end up sleeping on the couch tonight.
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1K notes · View notes
nana-gumi · 7 months
Text
devoted f.toji
pairings: fushiguro toji x fem! reader
cw: heavy angst, arranged marriage, illness, inaccurate descriptions of heart disease (just did some research lol), megumi is 5 years old, mentions of abuse, some kissing, mentions of pregnancy, drinking, toji is giving mixed signals, suggestive themes, lots of cursing, happy ending. wc: 18k
a/n: this was a filo au that i posted on tiktok, but due to problems posting on tiktok, the story wasn't finished and now here it is with an ending!! sorry for the long wait my tiktok readers 🥹 i'm sorry if the ending did not meet your expectations :') will post the angst ending soon
despite the years his past wife died, he still couldn't move on. it's up for the fate to decide if you could change him.
happy ending | alternate angst ending
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being an outcast in your family is the worst. you were forced to marry someone who's like you.
toji fushiguro, an outcast in his family and both of you were forced to marry each other. you've heard rumors about him. mostly bad ones. his father's company is famous after all.
toji have a son from his deceased wife. the time you met his son, megumi, you thought the kid will hate you but it was the opposite. he welcomed you, even told you that he was happy he finally has a mother.
you and toji never really interacted with each other that much, only if needed, like family gatherings or when megumi is around. who would want to show a kid that you're not interested with each other, right? but when it's just the two of you, both were completely a stranger to each other. there were times were you wanted to start a conversation because sleeping in one bed was awkward especially when there's no conversation at all.
you did start a conversation at some point but toji's presence was intimidating enough to shut you up. as time passes by, you're getting used to his presence. he seemed to be scowling at all times but you noticed that, that's just how he is. you continued to interact with him until you and him finally got comfortable with each other, where good morning and good nights were exchanged. but then you've grown attached to the man, especially his son.
when you asked toji why his last name is fushiguro, he told you that it was his deceased wife's last name. toji still refused to bring back his last name which is supposed to be zenin. he told you that his family once forced him to use zenin again but toji simply ignored them. even though toji was an outcast, none of his family couldn't argue with him so he kept the last name fushiguro while you stick with your own last name.
being an outcast, you didn't feel any love from your family and the simple things toji showed you made you feel loved. that night he let you borrow his jacket when it started to snow unexpectedly, those times where he makes extra coffee for you, he would even let you hug him if you have nightmares and most of all, he defends you from your family.
that's what you loved, no– love about him. but you wonder, does toji feel the same? and the answer was already obvious. toji only accepted the marriage because he doesn't have a choice. they will remove him from the business his family owns and he doesn't want that because he needs money for his son, megumi. he promised his deceased wife that he'll take care of megumi after all.
and you adore toji for that. sometimes you think, will toji cherish you the same way he does with his deceased wife? even if his wife died many years ago, he still have the love he has for her, as if she's still around to feel it.
-
you were currently laying on the couch as you hug yourself for warmth. it wasn't an argument with toji, but you just want to be left alone for now. the words "i love you" accidentally slipped out of your mouth, and you didn't mind if toji doesn't reply and you just hoped he didn't reply to it at all.
"i love you, toji." you whispered, enough for him to hear and his eyes looked guilty as he looked away from you.
"you shouldn't." toji replied. "you'll just hurt yourself."
"i know."
"you know we're married only in papers, we already decided to be just friends." you already know that, but you couldn't just hold back anymore, and of course he would say that. toji thinks no one could replace the love his deceased wife showed and gave him. she was there at his lowest point, she comforted him, told him the words he doesn't know he deserves to hear and toji just couldn't open his heart to love someone, at least not anymore. his wife was enough, megumi addressing you as his mother is enough, even a part of toji doesn't want it.
you glanced at the ring he's caressing on his finger. it should be the ring you placed on his finger on the wedding day but instead, it was the promise ring his wife had gave him. your heart couldn't ache anymore. you're so used at the empty feeling that it doesn't hurt you anymore.
"i'm sorry.." you mumbled as you excused yourself, deciding to just sleep on the couch. there you've grown to realize that being attached with toji fushiguro was the biggest mistake you'll ever done but you'll never regret.
-
you woke up with a shuffling beside you. you opened your eyes and saw megumi with his small blanket on his hand as he frowned at you.
"mama, it's cold." megumi said as he hurriedly draped his blanket above you.
"it's fine, megumi." you smiled at him as megumi tucked his small body on your arms.
"mama, did papa make you cry?" megumi asked and you pinched his nose as you disagree with his question.
"no megumi, mama fell asleep here while watching." you said.
"okay, i love you mama." megumi said and it has been minutes since he said those words and you were still silent that it made megumi look up at you.
"mama, i love you." he repeated with a hushed tone.
"i―" it was as if you choked on something as you embraced the child. "i love my baby too." you muttered.
after that conversation with toji, everything feels weird as if it's reminding you of your place, that you were forced to marry toji to strengthen your family's bond with the zenin's.
"papa loves you too." megumi mumbled and you just hoped it was true.
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toji's mother suddenly visited that day without a notice and toji wasn't around. his family doesn't really hate you but there's always a weird atmosphere around when you're close with them. just when his mother asked where toji was, he suddenly came back from work.
you knew he went here in rush, and the way he wrapped his arms around you as his lips came in contact with your forehead made your heart flutter. but you reminded yourself that it was only for a show. his mother smiled at the scene as toji sat beside you on the dining table.
"what brings you here, ma." toji asked in an annoyed tone.
"i just wanted to visit my grandson." you excused yourself a bit as you made your way towards the kitchen to make them something to eat and drink, and when you came back, the question you and toji were avoiding got asked by his mother.
"when do you plan on having another child?" she asked.
"no plans yet, we're to busy to have another child running around. megumi is enough."
"it's been a year since you're both married. why not give it a try?"
"ma―" you cut toji off before he could say something harsh to his mother.
"we did try it, ma, but it didn't really work so we decided to just wait for the right time." you answered, lied for toji and his mother seemed to buy it.
"ok.. but i am getting old, toji. we need to see a female granchild too." she said before excusing herself to go to her grandson who was playing. toji huffed at her mother's response as he stood up from the chair.
"i am sorry about that, toji." you said because as much as possible, you wanted to avoid answering that question too. toji sighed as he left the kitchen to get changed and when he went back to the living room, his mother was about to leave.
finally. he thought.
"just give it a try." toji's mother told you as she went inside her car.
"why'd she go here without informing me." toji muttered as megumi sat between you and him on the couch, showing the chocolate his grandmother gave him.
"i was surprised too."
"that's fine, thank you for covering up for me." he said as he stood up from the couch and took the chocolate on megumi's hand while carrying him. megumi whined in surprise as his father carried him like a sack of rice as you slowly followed behind.
"papa!" he exclaimed, kicking and punching but it was no use.
"come on, we don't want mama to get mad for eating to much sweets at night." toji said. he wasn't talking about you, you know that.
he placed megumi down beside the refrigerator as he placed the chocolate inside.
"too much sweet is not good for you." toji said as he carried megumi once again.
-
you just finished washing the dishes as you walked past megumi's room, and their muffled voices made you eavesdrop at their conversation, and you maybe you just didn't.
"megumi, why are you being so stubborn? you don't want mama to get mad right?"
"mama doesn't get mad at me!" megumi yelled as you smile a bit at his words.
"megumi, did you already forget your real mama, hm? she'll be sad in heaven. you want that?" toji said and his words was like a needle that was continuously poking at your chest.
"huh? but mama is here." megumi said, pointing at the door.
"look, (name) is just a replacement for your mama, but your real mama? she loves you, her love for you couldn't be replaced by someone."
"even (name)?" megumi said, and the way he addressed you by your name, you admit hurts. you took a deep breath as you felt a sharp pain in your chest. but that's fine, you're already used to it.
"yes, now go and sleep okay?"
"okay."
-
megumi started acting awkwardly towards you the next day, he was trying his best to avoid your gaze, maybe even you. he would stutter through his words between calling your name or 'mama'.
"bye bye, (name).." megumi looks away at you as he held toji's hand.
"bye bye." you replied as you forced a smile and megumi looked back once at the front door as they finally left the house.
-
"papa, i don't want to see mama sad." megumi said as toji placed his seatbelt. megumi might be a kid but he can clearly understood human emotions. when he called you by your name earlier, he saw how your smile disappeared but then you covered it up by a forced smile, and you just let him call you by your name.
"she's not sad-"
"yes she is."
"you don't understand, megumi." toji said and megumi only kept quiet because he knew arguing with his father is useless.
-
megumi jolted awake. he fell asleep after being in school the whole day as he searched for your presence. he had a dream, a really bad one and he found you in your and his father's room, talking to someone in your phone. megumi heard a sob coming out of you. you said something that megumi couldn't quite hear as you finally ended the call. he watched as you wiped your tears with your palms and took a deep breath. megumi silently close the door as he went back to the living room, sitting patiently as you appeared on his view.
"oh, megumi. how was your sleep?" you asked as you kneeled infront of the boy. megumi observed your eyes, they were a bit red.
"it's fine, mama." you were taken aback. he's calling you mama again. you smiled as you cupped his chubby cheeks.
"are you hungry?" you asked and he nods as you guided him on his feet. he didn't let go of your hand.
"mama, i love you. you're my one and only mama." you felt megumi's small hands squeeze your big ones, as if he's reassuring you of something.
"i love you too, my one and only baby. now let's go and prepare dinner!" megumi noticed that your mood shifted, and he was proud of himself that he was the one who brought a smile on your face.
-
it's unusual for you to wake up with toji's arms around you. you knew toji didn't do it on purpose, he was drunk last night and you just want to indulge the moment, even just for a minute or even seconds. you felt toji moved and you immediately stood up from the bed.
why do you feel guilty? it's not like you and toji were cheating on his wife. but that's how you felt. toji was still sleeping as you sighed, placing the blanket above him as you went out of the room.
"good morning, mama!" megumi greeted as he closed his ipad off.
"morning, 'gumi. what do you want for breakfast?"
"anything you cook!" he answered as he sat on the kitchen stool, watching you prepare the ingredients you needed.
"pancakes or rice?"
"rice!"
"okay." you laughed at his energetic response.
"mama can we buy art materials later? my teacher said we'll do arts on monday."
"sure, let's go out after we eat."
-
toji heard you and megumi talking as he arrived the living room. and just as he was about to enter the kitchen, your body bumped on his chest.
"oh, i was about to wake you up. breakfast is ready." you said, about to went back to the table but toji held your arm to stop you for a moment. he placed his other hand behind his head as he looks away.
"did i said something weird? last night." he asked as you look at him for a moment before you shake your head left to right. toji sighed in relief as he let go of your arm, both of you sitting on the kitchen stool. you look at toji, and he looks at you, but you couldn't meet his eyes as you smiled at megumi and place the food on his plate.
-
you just finished brushing your teeth as you were disturbed with a loud thud outside the bathroom.
"toji? are you there?" you called.
it was as if your soul went out of your body for a second, toji appeared infront of you. a curse slipped out of your mouth as toji's weight fell on you.
this was your first time seeing toji drunk, even your first time encountering a drunk person and you really don't know what to do so you tried your best to pull him with you in the room since he was so heavy.
once you opened the door of your room, you and toji fell on the ground. does his wife encountered this event a lot of times? if so what did she do?
toji was whispering something. you couldn't quite hear him as you placed your ear close to his mouth, the smell of alcohol getting stronger than it was and he was apologizing. you were confused as you move away from him.
"toji, i can't carry you anymore." you said, trying to wake him up as toji's eyes slightly opened.
"my wife." he whispered, you don't know if that certain beat in your heart was because he called you his wife or maybe because he mistook you of his wife.
and the next words he uttered is what you didn't expect as he suddenly placed his hand on your cheek and you were completely frozen in your spot as he continued to speak.
toji's hand finally slipped from your face as his head fell on your shoulder and you sit there, processing the words he said just a minute ago
he didn't mistook you as if wife, he indeed called you his wife and it warmed your heart.
"mama?" you were out of your thoughts when you felt megumi's hand above yours. "are you okay?" he asked as you look at him and then at toji.
"i'm fine, what was it again?" you asked, facing megumi as he smiled at you.
"papa will go with us later!" he said.
"oh? is that so?" you said as you look at toji, waiting for his answer.
he laughs at your reaction.
"looks like you don't want to?" he joked.
"it's not like that! it's always just me and megumi, since you're always busy.." you responded.
"yeah, today's a day off." you cursed internally. you have an appointment to the doctor today, you thought taking megumi with you would be fine, but toji? what reason should you tell him? you couldn't possibly say that you have a family meeting. no, you don't even have someone you can call a family, except for this two. plus toji would be updated if there's a family gathering.
maybe you'll ask the doctor to move appointments.
-
"are you sure? though i'm not sure when my schedule's gonna be clear again, (name)."
"it's fine choso, i can wait, just update me."
"sorry about that, i'm busy these days plus yuuji's been wanting attention too."
"is that so?" you said as you smile. "i want to meet him soon! looks like he's a good kid."
"soon, i'll bring him to the hospital with me."
"okay, see you next time then?"
"yeah. and (name), don't stress yourself too much, it's bad for the heart." you smiled at his words.
"of course, thank you. bye."
"who's choso?" startled by the voice, you immediately hid your phone behind you.
he was eavesdropping.
toji raised his eyebrow at your reaction as he opened his cabinet.
"a friend of mine."
"really? didn't know you have a friend." toji said in a voice you couldn't recognize, it was as if he's mocking you. you scoffed at him, deciding to just ignore his words.
you were about to leave the room but toji's voice stopped you.
"if you're starting to date someone, don't inform megumi about it. or he'll be sad." he said, mumbling the last sentence as you left. did toji really thought you were dating someone even if you're married already?
sure everything is one-sided, but you just don't have it in you to date someone, not when toji already has your heart, your everything. even if he doesn't know it. but you think it's better for toji to assume that choso is something in your life than choso just being an appointed doctor.
-
toji was too drunk when he got home and he think he just saw his deceased wife, but when he approached the person, it turned out to be you.
toji noticed that he was at the bathroom and felt your hands on his arms as you place it on your shoulder. he felt drinking that day, he wanted to forget everything or maybe when his wife appeared on his dream last night, the words he told her. he didn't want to wake up that night.
toji already forgot her face, her voice, how her hands felt on his. he already promised that they will meet again. in next life or in another universe. it doesn't matter where, as long as he could meet his wife again. but his wife told him in his dreams that he should move on, and he couldn't just do that.
toji did saw your efforts. he saw how you care for him, especially megumi. but he couldn't just stop himself from comparing you to his wife on his mind. no one could ever replace his wife. toji squinted his eyes, he saw you trying to pick him up.
"toji, i can't carry you anymore." but your words was a blur to him.
toji's hand twitched and moved on its own as he sat up from the floor.
"i'm sorry, i can't." he muttered as he placed his rough hand on your cheek, observing your eyes as he leaned his forehead on yours. "i can't love no more. i can't love you the same way. i'm sorry."
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toji was the man of your dreams.
he might not know it but toji saved your life, he saved you from the hands of your greedy parents.
"i can't love you the same way, i'm sorry." the way he said those words were filled with guilt.
sometimes you put yourself on his place. if you were the one that has a past lover who died, of course it'll be hard to move on, especially when that person made you feel love and gave you the world.
toji was miserable back then, not until he met her. she fixed him. just like you and toji, you met him and he fixed you. the only difference was they loved each other. she loved him and he loved her, while you love him but he was stuck in the past.
there were times where you watch him sleep, not in a bad way, but just want to admire him where you whisper your love for him. he won't hear it of course. his dreams must be more entertaining than the words you're whispering to him.
toji's words that night made an impact to you. everything he does for you, you started viewing it as him just doing it for kindness and not for love. maybe toji just doesn't want to hurt you further because he knew how badly your family treated you back then. you were on the same page after all.
now you realized that maybe it was bound to happen, that being married with toji is enough, being a mother figure to megumi was enough. he already did enough for you, for taking you away from your hell life. you'll just pay him back by doing what you should for him and megumi.
you'll just love him silently. you'll bury your feelings deep inside your heart that only you, yourself knew. maybe wait for him to finally acknowledge you. but you knew it wouldn't happen this time around.
for now, you'll just watch him love someone who wasn't even around anymore.
-
toji was showing you a picture of his past wife because you asked him to see her. she looked a lot like megumi, but a female version. now you know why toji fell in love with her. even in the picture, it was already obvious that his wife was kind and a loving person. but you're kind and a loving person too, aren't you? the universe is so unfair.
"this is when she was 7 months pregnant." toji said as he pointed a specific picture. you smiled at his words as you continue to listen to him. but toji suddenly went silent all of the sudden and closed the album as he cleared his throat.
"why, did you want to see it?" he asked as he placed the album back inside his drawer.
"just curious, she looked a lot like megumi." you said as you lean your head on your knees, facing him. "how did you meet her?"
"it was an arranged marriage too." he said. "i wasn't really favored with it but i don't have a choice." toji smiled. how can a person like her make him smile like this when you can't? "she was simple, i suddenly fell in love with her." toji said with adoration in his voice as he looked at you.
you sighed as you lay flat on the bed and started stretching your arms.
"ah, i wonder if someone would love me that way too." you sighed as you turned your back on him.
"you will, but that couldn't be me." he said straightforwardly as if reminding you that you couldn't change his mind anymore and it made you curl yourself on the sheets.
"are you and that choso dating?" toji asked as you turn to face him. he was leaning his back on the headboard with a laptop on his lap.
"no? why'd you assume we're dating?"
"you've been going out a lot these days, i just thought."
"are you okay with that?" you asked.
"of course." and he didn't even hesitate which hurt you more. "i mean, maybe he's the one you're looking for?" toji said as he closed the laptop, the surroundings being engulfed with darkness, the bright moon outside being the only source of light.
but you're already here. you wanted to say those words but you already knew what he'll respond to it. toji lay flat on the bed as he placed his arms behind his head while you were still facing him.
"not gonna answer my question?"
"oh? what was it again?"
"i said maybe choso is the one you're looking for."
"toji-"
"i just want what's best for you, y/n. you know, i can't really.."
"toji, i already know that. choso is just a friend, nothing more, nothing less." you said followed by a sigh. "at least just let me be by your side." you whispered, hoping that he heard even just a bit of it.
"if you insist, but i already warned you." toji said.
"i know.." toji was just beside you, but he's far within your reach. has it always been like this? every night, you and toji always ends the day with a conversation, same question with the same answers and toji will end up with his back facing you. every night, you couldn't sleep. only whispering those three words to him hoping and praying that he'll hear it and say it back.
every i love you's that was whispered were left hanging on the air. sometimes it was tiring, thinking of the words toji said that maybe he wasn't really for you and you weren't the one for him.
"good night." you mumbled.
"good night." he replied and everything was dark.
i love you, toji.
those words you utter to yourself every single day and night, hoping that he'll say it back, maybe just once, and it might heal the void inside your heart. but not a single day he said it back.
-
toji felt guilty but he shouldn't be feeling this way. you were just married on papers and already agreed that being friends was enough. yet he couldn't help but watch as you curl yourself, as if seeking for a comfort he knew he couldn't give you. he apologized on his mind, he couldn't say it out loud because he knew how it would hurt you more, so he just stayed silent.
toji switched off the lights as he lay comfortably to the side with your back facing him. he doesn't know how long he's been closing his eyes but sleep just couldn't take over him.
"i love you, toji."
he froze on his spot and his body tensed as he heard you whispered those words. he then felt your fingers caress the scar on his lips.
"i'm sorry if you ever feel guilty for not returning my love for you. but always know that i understand you." you whispered and your touch disappeared on his skin as he felt your warmth get close to him. "i'll keep waiting, maybe someday.." minutes passed, toji was still waiting for you to say something but you were already silent.
he opened his one eye and the first thing he saw was your back, there were a space between you and him.
is it always this far? are you always this far from him? toji doesn't know. he tried to reach for you but he stopped himself. and then again, another apology had slipped on his mind. he couldn't say it back, not when he swore to only say those words to the person he loves.
toji finally closed his eyes as the sleepiness take over his body. he knew that the one for you, who'll cherish you, love you like how you deserve it will eventually come and toji was already certain that it wasn't him.
it was really true that first love never dies now that you've experienced it and toji was enough proof. you couldn't stop loving him the way he couldn't stop loving his past wife. how can you even wish someone to just die when they're already dead? it was weird but were you too cruel for that?
you just hope that someday, toji will look at you the way you've always been wanting and craving. you'll wait, even if your and his hair turns white or even if you only have enough time to live.
-
"just this once?" you whispered as toji held your cold hands as he placed it on his cheek.
toji closed his eyes as he placed your hand back on the bed, hospital bed.
"i'm really sorry.." he whispered back and it was enough for you to hear it.
a small laugh left your lips. it's so hard even to laugh now.
"that's fine, at least thank you for being here."
"i'll say it if you want."
"don't say something you don't mean, toji." you smiled at him.
"yeah, i guess so."
-
you sit up from the bed as you wake up. it was just dream, but it felt to real for it to be a dream.
you couldn't help but cry as you cover your mouth as you felt a hand on your back.
"what's wrong? another nightmare?" toji asked. even in your dreams, in your death bed, toji still didn't love you. even in your deathbed, toji still couldn't love you the way you wanted it. maybe it was sign that toji doesn't have to know your condition.
he doesn't need to know.
"it's nothing, let's go back to sleep?"
-
you went out again. toji heard you talking to someone on the phone, he guessed it was choso. he didn't mean to follow you but he still did.
toji ended up following you on a hospital and he was confused. are you sick? toji asked himself, but you always looked fine.
he anxiously tap his finger on the steering as he waited for you on his car and it took you more than 30 minutes to finally come out of the hospital again.
why does that doctor have to send you out? even placing his hand on your back.
toji watched you enter your car. he waited for you to leave before going out of his car to enter inside the hospital.
he was hesitant as he finally arrived the front desk.
he cleared his throat as he faced the lady infront.
"is there a patient named (name)?"
"(name)?" the nurse repeated as she looked down the lists but your name wasn't there. "i'm so sorry but there is no patient named y/n here."
"ah, mr. fushiguro. did (name) send you here?" toji turned around at the voice and he was met with the same doctor he saw outside the hospital. toji's eyebrow furrowed as he fully faced him. "i'm choso by the way, y/n's doctor. i guess she already told you?"
-
"mama?" you heard as you enter the front door.
megumi approached you as he embraced you.
"did you just woke up?" you asked as both of you went back to the living room.
"a while ago.."
"where's your papa?"
"i woke up when he left."
"he left? but he said it's his day off today." you mumbled as you recalled his words. "anyway, what do you want for breakfast, gumi?"
-
as toji entered the house, yours and megumi's muffled voice can be heard at the front door. it looked like you and megumi is having fun. toji finally entered the kitchen and saw you with megumi baking a cupcake.
"papa!" megumi exclaimed as he jumped down the stool to approach his father, the icing on megumi's clothes being transferred to toji's clean ones.
"welcome back, toji. where have you been?" you asked and it suddenly smelled like cigarettes.
she looks fine. toji thought, but he was trying to stare at you as if it'll reveal something.
"toji?" you called him with concern as he snapped out of his thoughts.
"just went out. who's that for?"
"mama said she wants to try baking!" megumi answered.
"is that so?" toji said as megumi hummed in response.
toji looked at you once again, but his stare was making you uncomfortable. there's something weird about the way he looks at you and it was scaring you.
"i'll rest for a bit." toji said as he left the kitchen.
"mama, did you and papa fight?" megumi asked as he approached you.
"no megumi, he's just tired." you smiled down at megumi to reassure him and he warmly returned your smile.
toji didn't left the room that day.
you lay down beside him, still minding the space with both of your backs facing each other.
you heard shuffling behind you but you paid no mind to it. and when you turned your body to the other side, you were surprised to come face to face with toji.
"hey." you started as you slightly move back to create more space. "are you not hungry? there's still left over from the kitchen.
"i'm fine." toji replied with a low voice as you nod at his words.
"good night, toji." you said as you went back to face the other side again.
you were waiting for his reply but minute passed, he was still silent so you took a deep breath and sighed while closing your eyes. but the moment you closed your eyes, you felt him move close to you. he tucked his arms below your body and then the other above you as he easily pulled you close to him.
"good night." he replied as you look up at him with shock. did he just initiate a physical touch? he's not drunk, right?
"mhm." you simply replied, still surprised. toji didn't move away after that, he stayed still and so were you.
"are you drunk?" you asked that made toji open his eyes.
"i'm not. why asking?"
"well, it's- is this okay with you?" you asked and your voice was too small that toji almost didn't catch it.
you were out of words. it was weird for toji to act this way, especially when he's not even drunk. does he need something from you?
it hurts to think that he's only being affectionate because he needs something from you. either way, you'll still do what he'll ask you because you love him.
"are you not comfortable with it?" the way you immediately stopped him when he was about to remove his arms around you was a desperate move, but you didn't want to lose this chance because it might not happen again.
"no, i like it.. it's just, we've never done this before, shouldn't you be the one who's uncomfortable with this? i mean-"
"shh, let's just stay like this." toji murmured as he pulled you a little more close to him. his warm breath fanning on your neck.
you smiled but if felt like something was missing. you felt complete but at the same time you're not. you placed your hands on top of toji's that was around you as you give it a light squeeze.
"toji." you called his name in a whispered tone as you heard him hummed in response. "i'm not her, toji."
you didn't know why you even said those words. toji was hugging you but there were possibilities of him thinking his wife on you. because why would he suddenly do this if not for that?
as those words left your mouth, the warm presence that was comforting you suddenly disappeared. you weren't even surprised when he did that, just a tiny bit of ache in your heart.
heh, i knew it. but it's fine, i still loved it. you thought to yourself as you ended up curling your own body again, seeking for the comfort that was there just a while ago.
maybe someday, toji will hug you again, but that time, you hope he'll do it as him thinking of you, not while thinking of his deceased wife.
-
"i'm choso by the way, (name)'s doctor. i guess she already told you?"
"hah?" toji rasped in confusion as he looked at choso. so this was choso and he's a doctor.
not bad. toji thought.
"then why are you here, mr. fushiguro? your wife left just 5 minutes ago."
"i know." toji replied.
choso raised his eyebrow at the man in front of him.
"do you perhaps need something from me?" choso couldn't help but ask because the way toji looked at him was different.
"yes, i want to talk to you."
both of them ended outside the hospital where there were no people around.
-
toji slammed his hand on the wall, slightly embarrassed as he watch the doctor laugh in front of him.
"what's funny." toji rasped.
"sorry, sorry-" choso replied as he pants, he never had a good laugh these days. "mr. fushiguro, are you assuming that your wife is having an affair with me?"
"i didn't mean it that way, i was just asking if you and (name) have something."
"mr. fushiguro, ms. (name) is just my patient, i'm sorry if it came off that way." choso said as he leaned his back on the wall. "plus i know my boundaries, i wouldn't go with a married woman, y'know." toji calmed his body as he leaned his back on the wall like choso did.
"she's always talking to you on the phone, that's why i assumed."
"(name) told me a lot about you."
"i'm hoping it's the good ones."
"not even once your wife badmouthed you, mister." choso replied as he offered toji a cigarette to which he declined.
"she's not sick, is she?" toji asked.
"mhm, your wife was diagnosed with arrhythmia."
"arrhythmia?" toji faced choso at his words.
"her heartbeat is irregular, mr.fushiguro. are you not taking a good care of your wife?" choso tried to joke him but he didn't expect toji to stay silent. "well, i hope she's not lying when she said she doesn't smoke and drink?"
"no, she doesn't." toji said.
"anxiety or any emotional distress can cause this. are you perhaps having a lot of fight? her condition has been like this for a long time now."
"no, we don't fight." toji said "is it harming her that much?" toji asked
"for now, it's not. but if she doesn't take a good care of herself, it may lead to a heart failure."
"how to avoid this?" choso looked at toji in disbelief. did you seriously kept it a secret to your husband?
-
"toji." you called him as he was about to leave the house. "i'm sorry about last night." you said.
you frowned as you heard the front door close. toji was ignoring you. you felt guilty for saying those words last night but you just couldn't hold back anymore. it was hurting you. why would you say that when toji only wanted to be close with you?
you sighed in defeat as you turn around, continuing the dishes you were doing.
you knew how toji hated it when it's about his wife, yet you still brought it up.
-
"toji!" you scolded.
it was yet another night where he came home drunk, you're almost starting to get used of this scenario.
"i said don't touch me!" he yelled back as you stumbled back a bit from the force of his push.
you were getting scared. not even once toji had yelled at you, this was the first time. was the words you said really did have an impact to him? now you feel more guilty than you were. you were scared that toji would start looking at you the way your family did.
only because of the stupid words you said.
"toji." you said in a more calmer tone as you guide him on his feet.
"let go." he mumbled.
"i will. let's go to the room first, okay?" you sighed in relief when toji did what you said without saying anything.
"mama.." toji's voice must've woke megumi up as he look at you with concerned eyes.
toji shrugged his shoulders to remove your hand on his shoulders as he kneeled infront of megumi.
"megumi, mama's not here anymore." toji said.
you were taken aback but megumi was more surprised than you were that he started crying.
he was pushing toji away from him as he cry.
"i hate you!" megumi yelled as he finally free himself from toji and hugged your leg.
"it's okay, 'gumi. go back to sleep." you said as you kneeled on megumi's level while he cried in your shirt.
toji stood up by himself as he entered your shared bedroom, closing the door with a force as you flinch in surprise.
"mama." megumi cried.
"it's fine now, he's just tired."
"you say that a lot of times." megumi said as he wiped his tears. "let's sleep together, mama." you look at your room door as you nod at megumi.
maybe toji needs to have his time alone for now.
-
you were humming a lullaby as you sing megumi to sleep.
you already sang the lullaby 3 times already and just like you, megumi couldn't sleep at all. he knew you were crying but he decided to not talk to you.
megumi pretended to be asleep as you finally stopped humming.
he heard you took a deep breath as you pulled his small body close to you.
"night night, 'gumi." he heard you whispered as he felt the dip on his bed beside him disappear.
megumi squinted his eyes and saw you walking out of his room as the door finally closed leaving him inside his now dark room.
megumi sat up from his bed as he silently followed you.
he was tiptoeing as he followed you to the kitchen.
you were sitting there, a glass of water between your hands as you stare at nothing.
you were too drained as you wiped the remaining tears your eyes could release.
megumi was lost in his thoughts and didn't hear you walking on his way, but before you could caught him, he showed himself to you.
"megumi?" you called him, slightly surprised at his presence. "what's wrong?"
"um water, mama." he said as he noticed you smile a bit before giving him a glass of water.
-
"all good?" you asked as megumi tucked you and himself on the blanket as he hug you. he nods in response as he sighed in content.
"mama, i will tell papa tomorrow to say sorry." he said.
"it's fine, 'gumi. he's just tired and mama understands." you said as you brushed megumi's hair with your fingers.
"okay, i love you mama."
"i love you too, now go back to sleep you have school tomorrow."
-
when megumi woke up the next morning, you were still sleeping beside him. he kissed your tear stained cheek as he went out to start his day.
he found his father on the kitchen counter, holding his head with his hand.
toji noticed megumi's presence as he immediately approached his son.
"where's your mama?" toji asked as he placed his hands on megumi's shoulders.
megumi noticed that his father was restless, but he deserved it for yelling at you last night.
"say sorry to mama, papa." megumi said.
"ha? where's she?"
"in my room. mama was crying because of you!" megumi yelled, he almost wanted to cry as he recalled your unreadable expression last night. "i saw mama drink so many medicine, papa." megumi muttered.
toji massaged his temples as he made his way to megumi's room with megumi following behind.
toji slowly opened the door and sighed in relief as he finally saw you.
megumi's small blanket couldn't even cover your whole body as toji approached you and gently carried you to the bed, transferring you to your shared room.
"let's not wake up mama for now." toji said as he pats megumi's head. "i'll drive you to school."
-
"papa." megumi called as he fixed the seatbelt of the front seat. toji hummed in response as he waited for the street lights to turn green. "do you hate mama?" megumi was hesitant at his question.
"no." toji responded plainly.
"but you always make mama cry." megumi mumbled. "you always say that she's not my mama and it's hurting her. i always see mama cry, i just stay quiet." toji ignored his son as he started driving.
-
toji went back home after sending megumi to school and you were still sleeping.
he sat on the bed as he tried to recall anything that has happened last night but he couldn't remember anything.
he felt you moved as he look at you. you were finally awake.
you saw him as you sit up from the bed.
"good morning." you greeted as you rubbed your eyes.
toji was waiting for you to say something about last night but you didn't and instead smiled at him as you stretched your body.
"megumi!" you exclaimed as you realized that you were supposed to send him to school.
"i already drove him to school."
"ah really? thank you." you said as you finally relaxed your body. "then, what do you want for breakfast?"
-
has it been always like this? toji asked himself as he watched you prepare breakfast.
is it always like this the next day when he came home every night he's drunk?
you were all smile but this was the first time toji noticed that it was forced. is it really always like this?
toji wasn't the one to get nervous but when he recalled the nights he came home drunk, he couldn't recall anything.
he must've said or did something hurtful to you that you do not wish to tell him the next morning.
megumi was always a witness to it but you always tell him to stay quiet.
"i'll go out later." you said as he snapped out of his thoughts.
"okay. want me to accompany you?" toji noticed the way you immediately declined his request and there, he exactly knew where you're headed.
toji watched you drink the hot chocolate in your mug.
"(name)." he called.
"mh?"
"i'm sorry. if i ever did something last night."
not just last night, every time he comes home drunk, toji would say something hurtful and you were even convinced that he means some of it.
the first time he came home drunk, he told you he couldn't love you the way you love him and that was fine for you. but second time he came home drunk, he said the words i love you, but it wasn't for you. he said i love you but not your name in it. the third night he came home drunk, he compared you to his wife saying that you couldn't replace the role of being megumi's mother and you know that.
megumi was there and he cried with you saying that he loves you and don't listen to what his father said to you. but then it happened again. he watch his father get mad at everything, including you, his mother who just wanted to help him get to bed. he knew his father wasn't in his right mind because he was drunk. he cried with you again that night.
megumi got used to seeing you hiding your sobs from him. he already saw you cry silently or sometimes you just sit there to stare at nothing. megumi once caught you breathing heavily on the bathroom and there was a blood on the sink. you told him that it was nothing and megumi was just a kid, of course he would believe you that it was just nothing.
but as megumi continues to grow, he's starting to think that his father hates you. he started observing the two of you and there was nothing wrong with your relationship, except when his father is drunk. don't get megumi wrong, he still loves her real mother but you were the one who raised him. he haven't seen his mother once, only in pictures.
"(name)?" you snapped out of your thoughts as you looked from your plate to toji.
"i said i'm sorry." he said.
"it's fine, you were drunk."
"so i did said something, huh." toji cursed under his breath as he heard you laugh.
"don't worry, it's not that deep."
it was. but remembering it will only hurt you more.
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you've been having nightmares these days and you don't know if it's a sign for something. every dream you had was weird. there were times where toji would appear in your dreams. sometimes he hates you and sometimes, he loves you that you don't even want to wake up anymore.
you were currently sitting inside a hospital room as choso stood meters away from you.
"are you even taking a rest like i told you to?"
"yes."
"then why is your condition getting worse?" choso's words made you look at him, he was writing something on a paper.
"really?"
"really. (name), i am telling you this now, you'll suffer the consequences if you don't listen to me."
"but i do take rest."
"taking rest isn't enough, you should avoid your heart from getting tired. have you experienced panic attack these past few weeks?"
"n-no."
"you're lying."
"i'm not."
"your husband's worried, you know." you don't know why choso words made your heart clench, but you just hope his words were true.
"really?" you said as if you weren't convinced. choso looks at you and back at the paper as he sighed.
"i'll add another medicine, make sure to take it on time."
"why do we have to do these things?" you said as choso looked up from the paper to you.
"what do you mean?" choso asked as he raised his eyebrow at you.
"i mean, isn't better to just wait until it's over?" choso got silent, clearly surprised at the words you said. you noticed his reaction as you released a nervous laugh. "what am i even saying.." you said as you laughed at yourself.
"are you even hearing yourself?"
"i know what i said, choso. but don't worry, i was just joking."
"not a funny one. you just don't know it (name) but your husband's really worried."
"if you think your words would calm me, it's not working."
"huh?" you stood up from the seat before choso could say something.
"i guess we're already done here?" you said as choso nods.
"(name). take a proper rest."
-
you fell asleep the moment you got home and when you went downstairs, it was messy.
the television was on full volume and megumi was nowhere to be seen. toji was on the kitchen sleeping, there was a consumed bottle of liquor beside him.
"toji." you shake him to wake him up but it didn't work at first try so you did it again.
he was awake all of the sudden as he look around the kitchen. toji was drunk again as you thought of the things that happens every night he came home drunk. you hope he would just stay silent and wouldn't say anything anymore.
"let's get you to bed." you said as you helped him stand up but before you and toji reached the room, you fell on the floor as you entered the room. and the scene was so familiar to you.
"(name)." he called as you snapped out of the memory. "(nameee)." he called again.
"i'm here." you said.
"you're here?" he said as he touched your face as if he doesn't believe you. "you're really here." he said as he smiled and embraced you.
and you, you were taken aback, but you just let him.
"why did you leave me?" he said.
there he goes again.
"hey, look at me." he said as he held your cheeks with his thumb and pointer finger.
why does looking at him hurts.
"don't ever think that i don't love you, okay? i'm so grateful that you're here.." you were waiting for it. for him to call his wife's name but you didn't expect that he'll say yours. "if i started loving you, are you going to stay?" he said and you were speechless. "i'm sick of people leaving me." he mumbled as he embraced you. "i don't want you to leave. i promise, i'll love you like how you want it. i'll do it, i'll move on from her but in exchange, don't ever leave, okay? we'll heal you, you'll be fine."
what was he even talking about? it's not like your leaving or something, right?
you sighed, brushing off his words as you placed him on the bed.
"don't force yourself to love someone, toji. go to sleep, i'll look for megumi."
-
you were about to leave the house as you heard sobs coming from the house. and when you followed the sound, you were surprised to see megumi who tucked himself at a kitchen cabinet.
"mama!" he said as he embraced you.
"megumi, what are you doing inside the cabinet?"
"i'm hiding." he frowned as you wiped his tears.
"from who?" you said with a soft voice to calm him.
"mama.." megumi mumbled as his voice slightly cracked. "papa said you'll leave us."
"he said that?" you said as you kneeled into his level and he nods at your question. "he's lying." you said as megumi sighed in relief and embraced you once again.
"papa said you'll leave just like my real mama." megumi pulled away from the hug as he saw your surprised expression. "it's not true, right? mama."
your forced a smile as you pinched megumi's cheeks.
"of course, mama won't leave. never."
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"toji, can you drive megumi to school today?" you muttered as you saw toji who was about to leave the room.
"what was that?" toji asked as he closed the door once again and approached you. you sit up from the bed and your vision started to spin.
"bring megumi to school." you said followed with a small cough.
"yeah sure." he hesitantly said.
"thanks." you mumbled as you lay back down on the bed.
"you okay?" toji asked as you felt him sit on the bed.
"i'm fine, must be a fever." you said but toji wasn't convinced and placed the back of his palm on your forehead to your neck and you were burning. toji was about to say something but he felt your cold hands on his.
"i'm fine, don't worry." you assured him with a smile as you let go of his hand and faced the other side. you were burning but your hands were too cold.
"i'll be back." toji said, immediately leaving the room as you heard the doorknob clicked.
-
toji was back after sending megumi to school. megumi insisted on seeing you before leaving but if he found out you're sick, toji knew megumi wouldn't want to go to school anymore. you weren't in the room when toji entered.
he started looking for you around the house and the kitchen was the last place he expected to see you. he sighed in relief when he saw you sleeping on the table with a glass of water in your right hand. toji's eybrows furrowed as he silently approached you. he can hear your soft snores as he went closer and closer.
"(name)?" he said in a whispered tone and you woke up within a second as you look around.
"oh?" was the only word you let out as you felt toji's hands on your shoulders. "i fell asleep."
"what are you doing here?" he said as you tried to stand up but you failed. you don't have the energy even to stand up.
"i got thirsty but i got tired before i even drink water." you said as you finally drink the glass of water.
"you should see a doctor." toji suggested.
"i'm finee." you said as you let toji guide you back to the room.
slowly, you sit from the bed as toji helped you to lay down. he placed a blanket above your body and went straight to the bathroom inside the room. he went back with a wet towel and a bucket of water as he started wiping your face with it.
"thank you." you whispered, even your throat was hurting. toji didn't respond as he continued on his task and after that, toji took another towel and placed it above your head.
"toji." you called as he stopped at the door he just opened.
'can you stay please?'
how badly you wanted to ask him to stay with you, but the dreams you had before started replaying in your mind. maybe you shouldn't. "it's nothing." you said as you pulled the blanket above your chin.
toji seemed to notice your distress as he silently closed the door and approached you again.
"i will be back. i'll just buy you food." he said as you covered your whole body with the blanket.
"okay." you said and you couldn't stop yourself from smiling.
do you have to be sick for toji to look out for you? maybe being sick is not that bad after all.
toji came back after five minutes, it's not that you're counting though, you were just bored.
"where did you go?" you asked as he sat on the edge of the bed.
"i'll just order, what do you want- i mean, you can't eat anything for now, let's just order a soup." toji looked at you as he heard you laugh at his words.
"there's no need, toji. it's not that hard to cook a soup." you said as you sit up from the bed, only for toji to push you back down on the bed as you let him place the blanket above you.
"don't be stubborn."
"toji, don't tell me you can't cook a soup." you said.
"it's not like that, okay? i just-" he paused for a moment before turning his back on you. "you seemed like you want a some company, that's why i am here." he said.
speechless, that's how you describe yourself now.
"is that so?" you said as you watch him scratch his head.
"i'll do this on my own way, okay?"
"okay. but let me, i know exactly where to order a good soup."
-
"this looks plain as hell." toji said as he opened the soup you ordered.
"but it's delicious, and why are you complaining?" you said as you raised your eyebrow at him. "i'm the one who's gonna eat it, not you!" you exclaimed as toji huffed in response.
toji started pouring the soup on a bowl before placing a chair beside the bed. and for a moment, you look at him and he looks at you.
"it's fine, i can do it myself." you said, trying to reach the bowl on his hand but he moved it slightly away from your reach. he hesitated for a moment before taking the spoon on his finger.
"ahh." he instructed.
"toji, this is embarrassing." you muttered as you move away from the spoon.
"how are you gonna get better if you're being stubborn?"
"just let me!!"
"tch, let me handle this." he said as you, again, tried to take the spoon from him but it was useless so you did what he said as he slowly placed the spoon with soup in your mouth.
it was quiet as toji continues to feed you, until it's the last spoon of the soup, you suddenly let out a cough as the soup dripped from the corner of your mouth and to the duvet.
"oh." you mumbled as toji reached out for the tissues. "sorry." you mumbled as you started to wipe the soup on the blanket and then the corner of your mouth. "we have to change blankets, i guess."
it was too sudden that you didn't have time to process everything when toji leaned close to you. you can feel his hot breath on your cheek as he pressed his lips on the corner of your lips, with him tasting the soup he just fed you.
you were sure you were losing your breath as he pulled away as if nothing happened.
"ah, sorry." he said as if he just didn't kiss you. he started to gather the paper bag of the soup earlier and took the blanket on your hands. "i'll get a new one." he said as he finally left the room.
-
why is he acting so normal when you're there sitting on the bed, trying to calm your speeding heart at the moments earlier.
you cursed under your breath as you hide your face with your palms.
why are you even embarrassed when kissing is normal to a married couple? it was normal but it was unusual for toji to act like that, you haven't even hold hands with him but a kiss? that's way more unexpected.
-
toji gently closed the door of the room as he leaned his weight on it.
"fuck." he muttered as he clutched the blanket on his hand.
seeing you wipe the soup on the blanket with that smile on your face urge toji to do that. he himself didn't expect it too. he cursed once again before proceeding to the task in hand.
-
you were startled when the door opens.
it was toji carrying a new blanket.
"i'll pick up megumi soon." he said.
"what about your work?"
"i took a day off." you hoped he did because you were sick. "you can't be left alone." he said as if he just read your mind.
"oh. thank you."
"not a problem. make sure to do the same when i got sick too." he joked, but it didn't fail to put a smile on your face.
"of course, i would love too! but i'm not saying that i want you to get sick!"
-
"mama!" you can hear megumi's voice from afar as he finally entered your room, throwing his lunchbox bag somewhere as he approached you.
"megumi, don't get to close." you said.
"mama! are you okay?"
"megumi, stop yelling." toji said as he entered the room, picking up megumi's lunchbox bag he threw minutes ago.
"you said mama is not sick!"
"megumi, don't yell at your papa." you said as megumi finally faced you, his face turning into a frown as he faced his father once again.
"i'm sorry, papa." he muttered.
toji was impressed that you could make megumi easily obey you. a thing he couldn't do when megumi was 3 years old.
"come on, change into your home clothes." toji said as he carried megumi like a sack of rice.
"i'll be back, mama!" he said before he and toji disappeared from your view and toji came back after a minute before closing the door with a sigh.
"come and rest." you said as you pat the empty space beside you.
toji sat beside you as the surroundings became quiet. he cleared his throat as he took the plushie megumi bought you and squeezed it.
"i'm sorry." he said.
"why?" you said, completely confused at the apology he just uttered.
"earlier. i didn't mean it."
oh.
"w-well, it's fine." you said as you conceal your stutter with a cough. "it's not like i'm complaining.."
"ha?"
"i mean- don't get the wrong idea!" you said, trying to find the right words. do you say it's okay, i liked it? or it's okay, i enjoyed it? "but.. did you regret it?" you asked, and the tension suddenly became heavy.
he was quiet and must be thinking about it.
"i did-" he paused, and that small pause sure made you nervous. "not?.." toji said in a questioning manner. you felt nervous and relieved at the same time.
"what about you?" he asked and you were more than confident at your answer.
"no. if i'm being honest, i really.. liked it." the last sentence were whispered.
"was that your first kiss?" he asked and you only hummed in response. it was true that toji was your first kiss, even if it was just a peck, his lips still touched yours.
you felt toji shift on the bed as he faced you.
"come closer." he said and you hesitated for a bit as you finally faced him and crawled a bit closer to him.
you were looking anywhere but his eyes as he tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear. and then he's leaning close again.
"tell me to stop and i will." he mumbled, forcing you to look in his dark blue eyes.
"toji, are you sure about this?" you mumbled as you clutched your pajamas under the blanket. "don't do something you'll regret, toji."
he cuts you off by finally kissing you and it wasn't just a peck like you expected it.
he continued and deepened the kiss, until you're laying on the bed and when he finally pulled away, his hands was between your head as you clutch his clothes on his shoulders.
"toji-"
"shh.. i do not regret any of it."
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"i need to confine you for 15 days, so i could monitor you properly."
"but i am resting!"
"yes you are, but it's not enough. it's better if it's being observed that you're taking a rest."
"is there another way?" you said as you clutch your phone in your hand. "i actually don't know how to tell my husband." you said as choso looked at you.
"but i already called him. he said he's on his way here."
"huh, what do you mean?" you said, completely surprised that it made you stand up from the chair. "he doesn't even know that i am sick." you said. "choso, i told you to keep it a secret right?"
"i'm sorry, he accused us of having an affair. i needed to." and then there was a knock on the door, and you knew who exactly it is. toji entered the room and you look away from him.
"take a sit, mr. fushiguro." choso said as he instructed him to sit beside you. you weren't looking at him but you can feel toji's burning gaze at you. choso left the room for a moment and being alone with toji became suffocating right now.
you suddenly felt his hand above yours. you thought he would judge or even get mad at you but you but he didn't.
"we'll talk later, okay?" he said as choso finally came back.
-
"15 days? if that's enough. as long as you treat my wife." toji said. he's doing all the talking while you sit there in silence and.. he really did call you his wife.
toji thanked choso after that as he held your hand and pulled you with him. you gave choso a last glance, a glance as if he just betrayed you and he was looking at you with his apologetic gaze, and there, you and toji left the hospital.
"when did you found out?" you asked.
"a few weeks ago. i followed you." toji said as the signal lights turned red and there was a faint sound of music in the background. "why didn't you tell me?" he asked and you hesitated for a moment as you sit up straight on the front seat.
"choso said it wasn't that life threatening, that's why i thought i don't have to tell anyone." you were mumbling that toji almost didn't understand your words.
"not life threatening but now you need to be confined for 15 days?" toji said and you went silent. "do you not trust me?" he suddenly asked and you immediately disagreed at his words.
"no!" you said. "sorry, i just don't want to be a burden and.. i thought you wouldn't care." you said, whispering the last sentence as you wait for his response. and he didn't respond anymore, until both of you reached the house.
"toji, i'm really sorry." you said and he finally looked at you.
"we're in this together, why would you think i wouldn't care?" he asked and you frowned.
"i'm sorry toji. i just didn't have enough courage to tell you because.. it's because of your wife."
"my wife?" he scoffed, raising his eyebrow as you nod.
"i don't know how to tell you because all you could think of is your wife!" you were frantic as you explain, trying not to say the wrong words because it might trigger him in some way as your emotions get the best of you. "i thought you wouldn't care because i'm not her." you said as you look down on the ground, trying to hold the tears that was eager to come out.
"but i do care, this is not about her. this is about you."
"you don't understand it, toji." you said.
"then i apologize if i came of that way, that you thought i wouldn't care because all i think of is my wife." toji said, emphasizing the words with sarcasm. "but you're my wife too, my wife now." he said, the sarcasm dropping on his voice.
"but i'm not the presence you've been wanting for, i know my place, toji. you reminded me a lot of times already." you said.
when did talking about your illness turned into fighting over his deceased wife?
toji sighed at your response and you took a step back when he stepped forward.
"i'm sorry, i want to be alone for now." you mumbled as you went to your shared room.
you and him were fine just last night? what happened now? it was all because of your stubbornness. it was obvious that toji was worried and cares for you but you're pushing him away.
you couldn't help it, you aren't used at him caring for you. you're mistaking his kindness into something, that maybe he's saying all of it out of pity or guilt.
that's right, now you realized why toji was weird the past few weeks. it's because he already found out and he just didn't tell you.
-
toji forced the door open with a key and he saw you sitting at the edge of the bed. you didn't even notice him until he sat beside you.
"i'm sorry." you said at the same time.
"sorry, i involved her again." you said as you felt toji's hand at your back.
"i didn't know you felt that way." he said.
"it's okay. i know how hard it is to move on from someone." you said as you held his free hand. "this will be the last time, toji." you said.
"what do you mean?" he asked.
"i'm not dying." you said with a laugh. "what i mean is this will be the last time i'll involve her. i finally realized it, toji. that no matter what i do, i still couldn't do anything for you to love me the way i love you." toji was about to say something but you cut him off. "but it's fine! like you said, we're married only in papers. i think i'm getting it now."
he was silent and you felt his touch disappear on your back.
"i just want to sort everything out before i stay in the hospital for 15 days." you mumbled as you sighed deeply. "sooo, friends then?" you said, the same exact words he told you before you two got married by force. but you saying it hit something in him, it made his chest ache.
he felt your hand take his and shake it, as if both of you just had an agreement. you didn't even wait for his reply as you finally sit up from the bed and started packing some clothes you'll be needing and he could only watch.
-
"don't worry, it'll only be 15 days. mr. fushiguro can still visit everyday but only around 10 AM to 5 PM." choso said as he glanced at your way.
"choso, did you know there was a theory that being hospitalized will only worsen your state. what if that happens to me?" you said.
"that's a lie, you're here not to worsen your state but to heal you."
"but what if? you know, everything is unexpected."
"why'd you even ask?"
"i don't know. i guess i'm ready?" you said and choso was looking at you with his judging expression. "just kidding." you said as you laugh.
"think of the people who cares for you. be strong for them because they're waiting for you to come home." choso said and megumi was the only person you could think of.
"my son." you said with a smile.
"yes, megumi's waiting for you so stop with your negative thoughts."
"ok, i will."
-
"mama!" your mood shifted as you heard megumi and he finally entered the room.
he was on his school uniform as he approached you, his upper body leaning on the bed as he tried to reach for you. you leaned close to him as megumi's small hands held you by your cheeks.
"mama, why are you here?" he asked as he frowned.
"mama needs to stay here for now but don't worry."
"why?"
"megumi, don't ask too many questions." toji said.
"it's fine." you said.
toji was watching you and his son interact.
megumi was still mad at him but megumi just didn't show you. toji mentally slapped himself as he recalled the happenings yesterday.
it was megumi frantically looking for you around the house.
-
megumi was running around the house as he call for you.
"where's mama?" he asked toji as he pants.
"she'll be staying at the hospital for now." toji said.
"why? is mama sick?" megumi said as he approached his father who's ignoring his question. "papa!"
"megumi, you won't understand. and yes mama is sick. now stop asking."
"why is mama sick!" megumi yelled, asking questions, eager to know the answers.
"she needs her heart to be healed. there, now go to your room megumi, you have school tomorrow."
"heart?" megumi muttered as he forced himself on his father's sight as toji sighed. "it's all your fault!" megumi yelled and toji ignored him. "you always make mama cry! now her heart is sad because of you! you always get mad at mama when you come home drunk!"
"what did you say?" toji said as he held megumi by his shoulders.
"i hate you! i wish it's you in the hospital not mama!" megumi said before he could even realize his words as toji let go of megumi. toji sat back on the couch and megumi ran out of the living room.
megumi cried to his sleep as he craved for your presence.
-
megumi was laying on top of you as you lull him to sleep.
"say sorry to your papa later, okay?" you said as megumi sniffed before nodding.
toji went to buy foods outside as megumi told you everything he said last night.
"it's not your papa's fault why i am here. remember that."
"mama get home soon, okay?"
"of course." you said as you pinch his nose. "stop crying now."
after some minutes, toji finally came back as you and megumi ate the food he bought.
-
megumi sat at the back seat as he hug his knees.
"i'm sorry, papa." he mumbled. "mama told me what i said is bad. i'm sorry." toji kept quiet as he drives.
he carried megumi who fell asleep at the back seat to his room, giving him a kiss on the forehead before leaving.
toji thought megumi was right, that maybe it was better that it was him in the hospital and not you. he didn't want to lose anyone anymore and toji hoped that he isn't too late.
he was blaming himself.
he already considered himself as a curse, because if he started to love someone, something bad will happen to them. worst is they disappear from his life.
is it a right choice to finally love you?
maybe not.
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first week of your stay in hospital wasn't that boring as you thought it would be.
toji would visit you at the starting hours and will bring megumi from school at the last hour, though megumi always sleep on top of you since he wanted to be close to you.
toji would sit there in silence as you hum megumi a lullaby he once heard his son humming while doing his assignments.
toji knew megumi were attached to you but he didn't knew he's that attached to the point that megumi always cry every night, looking for you and will end up sleeping beside toji occupying the space you usually lay at.
"mama, i counted and it's 8." megumi said as he sat on the hospital bed beside you.
"that's right, 7 days more and mama can go home."
"but 7 days is too long." megumi said as he frowned.
"it's not if you stop focusing on it."
"okay, i will not!" you and megumi laughed at the same time and he kneeled towards you as he started wiping your under eyes with his thumb.
"mama, are you sleeping enough?" megumi asked.
"i am. it's just so boring here when i'm alone." you said as megumi embraced you.
"don't worry, mama. i will pray so you can go back home."
"thank you, 'gumi."
"mama." megumi whispered after a minute of silence as you hummed in response.
"papa is not sleeping well." megumi said as he look around as if someone was there to listen but it was just you and him since toji left when someone called him.
"why?" you asked.
"papa misses you, mama."
"he does?" you said as megumi frantically nods.
"he said it to me!" megumi exclaimed excitedly.
-
megumi was sitting on the kitchen stool as he stared at the cereal on the table.
he hates cereal, he loves the food you cook for him but since you weren't around, he needed to eat it for now.
"stop crying megumi. she'll be back soon." toji said as he drink his black coffee.
megumi wiped his tears as he sniffed.
"i miss mama." megumi mumbled followed by another sniff and toji sighed as he sat beside his son.
"i miss mama too but don't worry, okay? let's have faith and be strong for her too."
"okay. but papa if mama is back you better not make her heart sad again." megumi said as he waited for his father's response and minutes passed, he noticed his father was spacing out. "papa?"
"oh?" toji snapped out of his thoughts as he smiled at megumi. "of course."
-
"bye bye mama." megumi said as he look away from you and you knew he was holding his tears back.
"come here." you said as he slowly approached you. "don't cry, you'll be back tomorrow, right?" megumi nods as he wiped his eyes with his sleeves. "bye bye." you said as you kissed his forehead before he went back beside toji as he held toji's hand.
you made an eye contact with toji "see you?" you said and he only nod in response.
why are you expecting something when you and toji already settled everything as friends.
toji looked at you for the last time before he and megumi left the room, leaving you alone again.
what are you even expecting? it's not like he would do something.
you just hope that he did something though. maybe a kiss on your forehead? or just a simple words of affirmation, but nevermind.
you sighed as you hug your knees, you should stop thinking about something that'll hurt your own feelings, you didn't want to worsen your state more, do you?
as if it was a coincidence, choso entered the room with papers in his hand.
"hi." you greeted as choso entered the room.
"how are you feeling?"
"nice, i guess?"
"good job, there's a lot of progress." he said.
"wow really?!" you said excitedly.
"yes, you don't have to stay for another 7 days. did your husband left already?"
"they just left."
"call them back so you could finally go home with them."
-
"mama, do you hate papa?" megumi suddenly asked as he looked up at you, both of you laying on the couch with book in your hand.
"why are you asking that question? of course i don't."
"really? but why do you and papa always fight?"
"we aren't fighting, megumi. that nights you saw him getting mad was because he wasn't in his right mind and he was drunk."
"oh, okay." megumi said as he lay down back on your chest as you started playing with his hair again.
"i love your papa so much, 'gumi. more than i love myself." you whispered as you smile.
-
toji is currently helping you with the laundry since he couldn't force you enough to take a rest.
"take a rest." toji said for the nth time as you wait for the laundry to finish.
"i'll just finish this." you said.
toji sighed, another attempt to force you failed and he could only wait for you.
he was getting impatient as he stand just at the door. he couldn't leave you alone, he's worried something might happen if he lose sight of you.
the same lullaby you're humming for megumi can be heard at the background as he watch you attentively.
but a sudden gasp left your mouth, your humming getting interrupted as you felt him hug you from behind.
"just take a rest." toji said.
"i'm almost finished." you said, an unexplainable feeling stirring in your system. it was as if you're uncomfortable at the physical touch he just initiated.
weren't you craving for his touch? now that he did it, why are you complaining?
"come on. i'll finish that. listen to your doctor, will you?" toji said as he held you by the wrist and pulled you going to the room.
"do you know what you'll do?"
"yeah, i do the laundry before." he said.
"okay, let me know if you're done."
-
you've met toji before, back when you were in middle school. maybe he doesn't remember you but you remember him.
that time when someone was making fun of you, he involved himself and protected you. it wasn't really a fight, it was just him pushing them away that made them run away from the scene.
"thank you." you mumbled and when he looked back at you, you noticed a band aid on the side of his mouth that was already red in color. he only looked at you as he walked away. but before he could get away, you held him by his hand. he made an irritated expression that scared you for a moment as you stutter through your words.
"i have a band aid here." you said as you look at each pocket of your clothes until you found it in your hoodie. toji was watching with an unimpressed look as he stand awkwardly. he hissed in pain when you removed the band aid from his lip and replaced it with a new one.
"there." you said. he didn't even thanked you as he left and when toji saw his reflection on a random store, the design of the band aid was really, embarrassing.. a hello kitty design.
-
you were at the middle of college when your parents told you to stop. they had arranged a marriage for you that you didn't even want. you didn't want to stop college, you wanted to be free but they wouldn't let you. when you met your soon to be husband, you thought he was familiar but couldn't place your finger with. you were sure that you saw this man somewhere, you just couldn't recall where.
the scar on the side of his mouth made you curious as you stare at it and it suddenly made toji self-conscious.
"ah this scar?" he said as your eyes shifted from his scar to his eyes. you were on your first 'date' with toji. the one both of your parents said to get to know each other more.
"i got this from abuse." he said straightforwardly as you laugh nervously.
"um.. did it hurt?" you asked.
"no." he said as he placed his hand near his scar and as if something slapped you mentally, toji's current position reminded you of someone. that kid from the playground, the one who defended you from the bullies, the one that you gave the band aid you just bought because you accidentally scraped your knee, but you gave it to him. toji noticed you genuinely smile at him followed with a wholehearted laugh.
"what's wrong?" he asked and you only shake your head in response.
what a coincidence. who would've thought that the kid you kept on searching for, the reason why you stayed at the playground for who knows how long, hoping to see him again was being married to you? what an unexpected turn of your life.
-
getting to know each other means getting to know everything in your life. personal or not. it was as if that 'date' made your heart full and ended up being broken in the end. toji was the kid you've been looking for, for a long time now but then he suddenly told you that he was already married and they had a son together.
he clarified that he only accepted the marriage because he didn't have a choice. he told you he just didn't want to disobey his parents and megumi just need a presence of a mother.
"being friends will do." he said as you hesitantly nod.
-
you didn't even know why you suddenly remembered the past.
"(name), where did you put-" the words died in toji's throat as he opens the door, only to find you standing at one of his drawers, a folder in your hand as you continue to stare at the paper.
the folder was immediately snatched at your hands as toji placed it back on his drawer.
"that's–" you gasped.
"no, listen–" toji mentally cursed himself. he forgot to throw the divorce papers he requested back when it's the first month of your relationship. he forgot to throw it when he was cleaning his drawers the day you were at the hospital
you looked at him, and he hated that look in your face as another curse left his mind. what should he say? how should he explain it.
"well, if that's what you want."
"no." toji said as he moved close to you but your instinct told you to step back and you did. "that was, that wasn't.." he was stuttering through his words as he heard you sigh.
your heart was aching but you have to ease the pain. you didn't want to go back to the hospital again.
"it's fine, toji. you don't have to explain." you said as you sit at the edge of the bed.
"that was before. first month of us being married." toji explained and the small shift of your mood got unnoticed by him.
"is that so?" you said, looking up at him. "maybe i did something you didn't like to ask for divorce papers, huh." you chuckled as you recalled the first month of your marriage. it was megumi finally addressing you as his mother.
toji admitted that day that he didn't want megumi calling you 'mama' but he didn't want to wipe the genuine smile on his son's face so he just let him call you his mother.
"i'm sorry." he said followed by a strong curse.
"why?"
"fuck, i'm sorry. i didn't- that was before. i don't want a divorce now." toji said and the ache in your chest suddenly disappeared as you gave him a teasing grin.
"why? don't tell me mr. fushiguro is finally starting to love me." you joked and it was clearly just a joke, but the tension suddenly changed. he wasn't laughing at your words but was looking straight in your eyes with something in it.
"i'm just joking.." you said as toji finally looked away from you. he couldn't stop cursing mentally. he was lost in his thoughts and didn't feel you moving close to him and when you were about to place a hand on his shoulder, to simply get his attention, he suddenly held you by the wrist.
"toji, what's wrong?" you asked. he started gripping your wrist tightly and both of you were interrupted by the knock on the door.
"papa! lala wants to talk to you on the telephone!" megumi yelled as you look at the door but when you look back at toji, he suddenly leaned close to you, giving your lips a peck, as if it was to reassure you and suddenly he was at the door.
you were frozen in your spot as you watch him close the door, your hand flying to your lips and caress it and instead of an ache, your heart was beating with happiness.
-
it was one of those nights where toji couldn't sleep again. it happens when something is bugging his mind. he was staring at the ceiling with a deadpanned expression and your shifting caught his attention. both of you were surprised when both met each other's eyes.
it suddenly became awkward.
toji sat up from the bed as he leaned his back on the headboard. you stayed at your position as you stare at the ceiling. there are questions that wanted to be answered, but you think staying quiet would be the best option for now.
toji side glanced your figure, and there were space enough for another person to fit. has it always been like this? now toji is sure that it has been always like this.
toji doesn't know what to do as he continuously stare at you until you finally look at him. (his gaze was burning holes into you.)
there, you sat up from the bed too, doing what he did as you cleared your throat to ease some of the awkwardness that was around.
"can't sleep?" he asked.
"yeah, what about you?"
"can't sleep." you chuckled at his response as you bend your knees close to your chest. why is it starting to get cold?
"about the divorce-"
"i already told you that it was before.. i have no intention in pushing the divorce."
"why?" you asked and toji thinks he doesn't even know why. you were itching to know the reason when toji could've pushed through the divorce long ago.
"why? don't tell me mr. fushiguro is finally starting to love me." you recalled those words you said last morning and to your side, it was clearly just a joke so you removed that as one of the reasons why.
"was it because you found out i was sick?"
"no." he felt embarrassed on how quick he disagreed with your question. "i mean-"
"hm, what could be the reason.." you mumbled as if you're talking to yourself and toji couldn't help but observe you.
"it's best if we sleep for now." toji said as you hummed in response and started tucking yourself at the duvet, facing the wall. you weren't even surprised when you felt him pull you close to his chest. it was as if you're expecting him to do that. and he really did and there, you faced him as you wrapped your arms around his figure with your face hiding on his chest. toji inhaled your shampoo as he sighed in satisfaction.
"will this help you to sleep?" you asked as you look up at him. toji looked down at you with that stupid smirk on his face.
"i could ask you the same question." he said as he chuckled when you went back to hide your face on his chest.
"it will." you whispered but toji surely heared it clearly.
"then that goes the same for me."
-
"mama loves to cuddle." megumi said as he looked at toji's plain expression. megumi copied his father's expression after looking away from him, continuing the assignment he was doing.
"that's all?" toji said as megumi scoffed at him.
"you asked me what mama likes the most!" megumi argued as he fully face his father. "that's the most, mama loves cuddles!"
"okay okay, stop yelling." toji said when he heard your footsteps approaching them.
"good morning, mama!" megumi greeted as he ran towards you to hug you.
"good morning, megumi." you said, looking at toji as you nod at him.
"morning." he said as megumi pulled you on the table at the living room, showing his little drawing to you and toji.
"what's that?" you asked as megumi smiled.
"this is mama," megumi said as he pointed at you. "this is papa and this is 'gumi."
oh. it was a family drawing. your heart started beating through your ears as you look at megumi.
"my teacher said our assignment is to draw a family!" megumi exclaimed excitedly as he faced you and toji.
family? could you even consider yourself as one of their family? megumi could've drawn his real mother, why did he have to-
your thoughts were interrupted when you felt a hand on your back. you looked back and saw toji looking at you, it was different, the way his eyes calmed you. you awkwardly smiled at him as he pulled you close to his side while placing his other hand on megumi's shoulder.
"what's this?" toji asked as he pointed at a drawing which is color white and black.
"it's my dream dog! i want white and black." megumi said. your heart was racing as you feel the warmth of toji's palm on your side.
"why is mama carrying a stick?" toji asked as megumi huffed.
"so she can beat you when you hurt her again." megumi said as you laugh, finally joining in their conversation.
"that's cruel, megumi. i couldn't hurt your papa." you didn't even feel when toji already removed his hand on your side as he watch you and megumi, a smile making its way on his face.
-
"there.." you said as you dropped the pencil at the table.
"wow!" megumi exclaimed as you revealed some changes in his drawing.
"what are you holding, mama?" megumi asked.
"roses, mama loves roses." you said as you pat megumi's head.
"oh okay! then 'gumi loves roses too." megumi said as he grinned at you.
"but there are many types of roses." you said as you fixed megumi's disheveled shirt.
"really? what's your favorite among them, mama? megumi asked.
"the purple one!" you said as megumi nods at you.
"why not red, mama? red is famous one right?"
"yes, but i love purple more. because it means love at first sight." you said as you bump megumi's nose with your pointer finger.
you watch him look to the side as you follow his line of sight. he was looking at his father. you forgot that toji was even there as you look away with embarrassment. clearing his throat, toji stood up from the couch as he brushed his hair with his fingers.
"i'm gonna prepare for work." he said before leaving as megumi watch his father disappeared from his sight.
"mama, is papa your love at first sight?" megumi asked when his father wasn't around anymore. you smiled as you recalled the very first day you laid your eyes on him.
"he is." you said with admiration in your tone. "did you know i met your papa when he was a kid?" you said.
"really? what's he like?!" megumi asked with excitement as he leaned close to you.
"hm, he's still the same.. but he saved me from bullies." you said as megumi kept quiet, wanting to know more. "i scraped my knee but i gave my band aid to him because his lips were bleeding."
"is that why papa have a scar?"
"i guess?" you said as you ruffled megumi's hair. "it's just a secret between us, okay?" you whispered as megumi nods at you.
unbeknownst to you, he heard everything you told megumi as he recalled that day where he first got the scar on his lip, that hello kitty band aid. so it was you, huh.
-
toji left after eating breakfast and it was past lunch when you heard a knock on your front door.
but you weren't expecting visitors, who could it be?
you were surprised when you're met with, no one. but there was a bouquet of purple roses on your doorsteps.
you picked it up as you read the note.
'this is for you, i hope you like it.'
you bit your bottom lip to suppress the smile but it couldn't be helped.
you inhaled the scent of the roses as you finally went inside the house.
-
"thank you for the roses, toji." night finally approached as toji looked up from his laptop and to you.
"what roses?" he asked as you look at him in disbelief.
"that- you, weren't you the one-" toji suddenly laughed as he closed his laptop.
"i'm just kidding." he said as you glared at him.
"not funny!" you said, almost embarrassed when you stammered with your words just a minute ago.
"did you like it?" toji asked as he started preparing the duvet.
as if it was already planned, you move close to him as he finally covered both of your bodies with the duvet. "i love it."
toji's arms automatically made its way to wrap securely around you.
"how's your check up with choso?" toji asked as he switched off the lamp.
"he recommended me another medicine."
"huh? why? i thought you're getting better?" toji asked as you silently laugh at him.
"yes i am, it was just a vitamin, i mean."
"ah, is that so?"
"mhm."
"sleepy already?" toji asked in a teasing tone and you only further hide your face on his chest. "goodnight." he mumbled.
"i love you, toji." you mumbled against his chest. "you can say it back when you're ready." you said as you look up at him and toji lightly smiled at you.
"i'm almost there.." he mumbled.
"i can still wait.." you said as you looked at him with glint in your eyes. toji let you kiss him on the lips before you went back on hiding your face. he chuckled as he pulled you closer with his hand behind your head.
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it was a random night, a random song that was being played on the radio can be heard as you sit down on the couch of the living room. the lights were all closed, the street light outside being the only source of light inside your home.
toji wasn't home yet and megumi is already sleeping in his room.
your head almost fell on the couch when the click of the door woke you up.
toji sighed as he closed the door.
"i'm home." he muttered, but didn't expect to see you approaching him in the dark.
"welcome back." you greeted as you took his bag on his hand, guiding him on the living room.
"have you eaten?" you asked.
"ye-"
"let's eat together, i'm hungry!" you exclaimed as you held him by his hand, guiding him to the kitchen. well maybe eating dinner for the second time wouldn't hurt. toji thought.
"megumi?" he asked.
"already sleeping." you replied with an almost sleepy voice as toji sighed.
"you didn't have to wait for me." he said as he stand beside your almost sleeping form. "let's get you to bed." toji said and carried you in a bridal style.
"toji.. let's sleep." you said as he unbuttoned his almost tight polo.
"yeah, i'll just changed my clothes."
"hurryy."
"did you drink?" toji asked as he lied beside you.
"no."
"why are you being clingy?" he asked.
"miss you." you mumbled, wrapping your arms on his figure. "did you miss me?" you asked and toji couldn't help but smell you.
you didn't even smell like alcohol.
"i'm not drunk, i'm just sleepy." you said as if you just read his mind.
"alright."
"you didn't answer me yet."
"i did." he said as you squealed in happiness.
"okay, good night. i love you." you mumbled.
toji gaze softened as he pulled you close to his chest.
"good night." i love you too.
-
it was late at night again and toji was still not home. megumi was sent back home by a school bus last afternoon.
you haven't eaten yet. you were waiting for toji so both of you could eat dinner at the same time again and the door clicked as you stood up from the couch.
"i'm home." toji mumbled.
"welcome back!" you exclaimed.
if yesterday you were sleepy, today you have a lot of energy. you took the bag from toji's hand as you walked ahead, only to be pulled back when toji held your wrist, placing a kiss on your forehead as he loosened his tie.
it sure caught you off guard as toji walked past you as if nothing happened.
"well, have you eaten?" you asked, almost stuttering.
"yes." he responded and you mentally frowned.
"okayy." you said as you help him remove his blazer.
"what about you?" he asked, but before you could answer, your stomach growling did it for you. embarrassing.
"well, i guess eating dinner for the second time wouldn't hurt, right?" he said.
-
"hi, welcome back.." you slowly said as you took toji's bag in your hand.
"i'm home." he muttered, walking past you but suddenly he went back and give your forehead a kiss before removing his watch.
"bad day?" you asked, helping him remove his blazer.
"yeah, i think i couldn't eat dinner with you tonight." he said with a frown.
"it's fine! you go and rest." you said, giving him a smile of reassurance.
toji frowned once again when you made your way to the kitchen. you were humming a song but you were stopped when you saw toji sitting at his usual spot. you blinked twice at him as he sighed.
"well, i got hungry." he said, not looking at your way.
"okay! i'll re-heat some more then." you exclaimed with a smile and toji couldn't help but mirror it.
"thank you for the food."
-
another bad day.
you noticed it the moment toji entered the house with a slumped shoulders.
"welcome back." you greeted, doing the same routine.
"i'm home." he responded, hooking an arm around you before placing a kiss on your.. lips? "what's dinner for today?" he asked as he started unbuttoning his polo. "(name)? what's wrong?" he asked.
"w-well, i made your favorite." you stammered as you made your way infront of him, helping him remove his blazer.
toji made his way first at the kitchen, taking a mug from the cabinet and it caught your attention.
"coffee?" you asked as he nods and suddenly, you placed a hand on his back.
"take a seat. i'll make you one." you said.
"i can do it myself."
"just let me take care of this, okay? you're tired from work." you said, turning on your back to make him a black coffee when you suddenly felt his weight behind you.
"thank you." he mumbled before going back to sit and it made you proud of yourself.
-
"welcom-" you were cut off when toji harshly kissed you, his hand flying at the back of your head as he pushed you, until your body collided with a wall. "toji-" you mumbled through his kisses as you pat his shoulder. "can't breathe!" you said as he finally pulled away, with him leaning his forehead on yours as both of you catch your breaths.
"bad day again?" you asked but he only clicked his tongue, continuing his task on you, the food you made being forgotten as he carried you and made his way on the bedroom, and also not forgetting to lock the door.
-
thank goodness it was saturday today.
your whole body was aching and toji was out of sight as you sat up from the bed.
"mama?" megumi's voice can be heard at the door as he knocked three times before opening, only to see you on the ground. "mama!" megumi exclaimed as he approached you. "papa help!" megumi yelled as he struggled to help you stand up.
"megumi look out for the food in the kitchen." toji said as megumi followed what he was instructed.
"it hurts." you said as toji easily carried you, placing you back on the bed.
"guess i went rough last night." he mocked.
"shut up!"
-
"i'm home." toji said as he entered the house. you smiled as you approached him.
"not a bad day anymore?" you joked as he laughed, hooking a hand around you as he placed a kiss on your lips. you were used to it now.
"yeah." he replied as both of you did the usual routine.
after the dinner, you were quiet. it was unusual for you to be silent.
"toji-"
"what's wrong?" he asked, cutting you off. the night you both shared was 2 weeks ago, you were supposed to have your period 2 days ago but none came.
"i'm late." you said, starting to get stressed. "i'm scared, what if i ended up being pregnant-"
"then that's good. megumi will have a playmate. is it not?"
"but-"
"it's okay." he said, taking your hand on his and you were surprised when he removed the wedding ring on your finger, placing a new one. "wear this from now on." he said, placing a new ring with a rare design on it.
"thank you.. i love it but, why?"
"i want to get married again." he said, looking straight in your eyes.
"but we're already married." you said as you frowned.
"but for real this time." he said with a smile. "you know, before, i wasn't-" he paused, he couldn't say it but you already understood what he was saying.
"i understand." you said as you laughed.
"will you marry me again?" he asked and you couldn't contain the big smile that was on your face.
"i would love too!" you said as you embraced him, with him spinning you around.
"i love you (name).. thank you for staying with me and megumi. thank you for not giving up on us.. on me." he said and you couldn't help but tear up.
finally. it's finally happening.
"i love you too." you responded with a shaky voice as he wiped your tears with his thumb before finally connecting his lips with yours.
it was worth all the wait.
2K notes · View notes
wholoveseggs · 3 months
Text
Small Victories
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18+ ---- {Masterlist} {Tag-List}
{Daemon Targaryen X Reader} After a tourney in which Daemon places second, he seeks solace from his loss and finds it in his little northern maid.
♡♡ Hello darlings! I'm branching out slightly and writing about a new character {Don't worry, I'm still writing Elijah} xoxo ♡♡
5.3k words - Warnings: smutt, size!kink, rough sex, dom!daemon, slight choking, virgin!reader, northern!reader, servant!reader, pre-dance Daemon, huge power imbalance...
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♡♡ Hey! I didn't tag anyone because I'm unsure if you want to read Daemon content. If you wish to be tagged in future Daemon let me know ♡♡
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You didn't like the Red Keep, it was too grand for your liking. Even with all of the people in it you still felt alone. At night, you could hear voices echoing throughout the halls, sometimes they were singing or laughing and other times they were screaming or moaning.
You could never tell where the sounds were coming from, it gave the place an odd feeling of being haunted. Ghosts weren't something you put your faith in, but that didn't stop the hair from standing up on the back of your neck whenever you heard a strange sound.
If it was up to you, you wouldn't live here. You would be back in the little cottage you grew up in, far into the north and as far away from King's landing as you could possibly be. It was a funny contradiction, that such a grand place in a warm environment could feel so cold, while a small house in the cold north could feel so full of warmth.
The last thing your mother said to you, was that you should be grateful. That your place in the Red Keep was the highest honor your family could ever hope to receive, and that you should do anything to stay here. To be a lady's maid to the queen, was the highest achievement a low born could achieve.
You tried to be, even though your heart yearned for the snowy landscape of your childhood. You wanted to be happy, you were thankful, but you couldn't help the way you missed the north.
So to try and capture just a bit of personal freedom, you would walk the halls at night. It was the only time you could pretend to be somewhere else, even if it was only for a moment. You would close your eyes and imagine yourself somewhere new and exciting, and when you opened them you would be reminded of where you really were.
Tonight you were in a particularly adventurous mood, there was a tourney the next day for Prince Viserys and his wife Aemma to celebrate their wedding. The Red Keep would be full of guests and it would be loud and full of life, you were sure to be very busy, and so you decided to stay up late and postpone sleep for a few more hours.
There was a room in the library that had a view of the city, one you liked to frequent often. It had a large window and a balcony that was rarely used. It was a nice place to go to clear your mind and think about home.
When you entered, nobody was around except for a cat that was perched on the windowsill. She was a lovely thing with black fur and bright green eyes, the perfect color of a dark forest at night.
"Hello, beautiful." You greeted her with a smile and a light stroke along her back. You looked out the window with her at your side, watching the moon reflect off the ocean and the waves crashing against the shore.
The sound of footsteps behind you made you look over your shoulder, your eyes landing on a man with a face that made you stand up straight and bow your head.
"Prince Daemon." You greeted him, not looking up from the floor.
"Young maidens like yourself shouldn't be out so late." He said, stepping closer to you. You didn't dare move or even breathe, his presence made you feel like you were caught doing something wrong.
"I couldn't sleep, my lord," You answered, not meeting his eyes. This was your first real meeting with the prince, but you knew the rumors that surrounded him.
He didn't respond to your answer, instead, he turned his attention towards the view. Leaning against the window, his posture was dismissive, as though you weren't there. He gave you a side glance that read, 'leave,' and so you did, not wanting to get in his way.
"I apologize, I didn't mean to intrude." You said, walking past him, heading towards the doorway.
"You are from the north," he spoke, still looking out into the water.
"Yes, my lord," You answered, stopping when he started speaking.
"How did you find yourself as a maid in the south?" He asked, looking at you, his eyes piercing through you.
The truth of the matter made you feel shameful, even though it was beyond your control. So you decided to tell him what you've been telling everyone.
"I was given as a gift for our new queen," You said, looking down at the floor.
"Is that what they call it?" Daemon laughed, his laugh was as harsh as his voice, the kind of laugh that could cut you open if you let it. "I heard you were given away as payment for a debt."
Your cheeks reddened and you looked at the ground, your throat closing up at the mention of your family's failure. Pride wasn't something you could afford anymore, but you couldn't stop the words that came out of your mouth.
"I didn't realize that princes were so fond of gossip." You said, meeting his eyes, your words were meant to cut, and they did.
He stood up straight, his expression unreadable as he closed the distance between the two of you, towering over you.
"Ahh, so they did sell you." He smirked, looking down at you. "Whoring can make you better coin… recover a debt quicker."
Your hands balled up into fists and you took a step closer, a defiant glare on your face.
He chuckled and tilted his head, he reached out and touched your chin, his hand was soft but firm as he turned your face to look at him.
"With a pretty face like yours, I'm sure you would make quite a bit of coin," His voice was a purr, a seductive growl that made your insides feel tight. "I could show you a better use for those lips."
His words were shockingly vulgar, his voice was rough and commanding and his eyes were hungry, but you didn't move away, you stayed still. You knew the dragon prince was a scandalous man, but you didn't think he would ever be so bold.
"There is no honor in a whore's coin." You answered, pushing his hand away from your face.
"Is there honor in emptying the queen's chamber pot?" He retorted, grinning slightly at how red your cheeks had become.
"Not all of us have the opportunity to choose what sort of honor we can acquire,” You said, standing your ground as best as you could.
He towered over you, his tall frame casting a shadow that almost completely covered you. He wasn't like the king or queen, who were kind and generous. There was something dark and malicious about him, as though the great beasts of his house lurked just below his skin, waiting to come out.
"You have a smart mouth, little northerner." He mused, his eyes drifting down to your lips. "It's a wonder that the queen has not put a gag in it."
"It's a poor quality I have yet to overcome." You responded, pulling away from him and putting some distance between the two of you.
He watched you move away, his eyes following your movements and the shape of your body, making you feel hot.
"I will think of you when I win the tourney tomorrow." He said, his tone smug and confident. "A sweet northern flower to bring back with me."
"You will be bringing back nothing, prince Daemon." You said, your voice a warning.
He laughed and looked at you, his eyes dancing with mischief.
"We'll see about that."
And with those final words, he left the room. You felt flustered and annoyed, a strange mixture of feelings that confused and angered you. You didn't like the prince, but he made your heart race, his voice and his eyes made you feel a strange sense of heat.
You wanted to be disgusted, and yet all you could think about was seeing him again.
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It was a hectic morning, with all the knights and guests arriving, and you were late. Your tardiness had earned you a sharp reprimand from your head maid, but you were too distracted by the upcoming event to care.
The prospect of seeing the prince again was something you weren't sure you wanted, but couldn't stop thinking about.
You didn't like the way his eyes lingered on you, or how he made you feel things that shouldn't be felt. The rogue prince was indeed a fitting title, he was a scoundrel and a liar, a man of dishonor.
You thought that maybe he was the sort of person that the south created, perhaps they took people like you and turned them into someone like him. But then again, he wasn't really a southerner, no, he was a dragon.
The sound of cheers and laughter outside made your ears perk up. The queen was already seated with the other royals in their viewing box, and you were in a nearby tent, preparing more wine and food.
The tourney had just begun, and so far the knights had all performed well. You had only been paying a bit of attention, trying to do your job and keep out of the way.
The head maid was a cruel, vindictive woman, and she had been taking out her frustration on you all day. Her temper was short and her hands were rough, she was the kind of woman that would slap your hands or pull your hair if she was upset. But today she decided to simply make your life miserable with her words.
She gave you the worst jobs and the heaviest items to carry, and when she did allow you to stand and rest, she would hit your feet with her broom and tell you to get back to work.
"Once you are finished pouring wine, I want you to go to the prince's tent and serve him." She ordered, her eyes were sharp and her words were harsh.
"The prince has a squire to serve him." You protested, the idea of facing Daemon again made your cheeks turn red.
"The prince requested a woman's company,” She smiled, her eyes looking at you with an almost wicked satisfaction.
"I believe what the prince is looking for can be found on the street of silk, not among the ladies maids." You countered, hoping to change her mind.
"It's an honor to serve the prince, and he has specifically asked for a northern girl." The head maid was adamant, not willing to let this go.
You clenched your jaw and took a deep breath, biting your tongue as you looked at the floor.
"Very well, madam."
You held back tears as you climbed the stairs to the viewing box, pouring wine into the cups. Keeping your eyes low and only lifting them when absolutely necessary as you made your way down the line of royals.
Everyone began to stir and chat as the final round was announced. You turned to face the arena, watching as the prince mounted his horse, the sight of him made your heart flutter.
He was a handsome man, there was no denying that, his long blonde hair was braided and tied back, and his purple eyes were focused and determined.
His horse was a massive stallion, black as night, and he rode him as though they were one. He moved with a grace and confidence that was captivating.
The final round began, the two men charging at each other. You were nervous and excited, not knowing what to expect.
The clash of steel was the only sound in the air, it echoed throughout the entire arena. The crowd was silent, their eyes locked on the scene before them.
The two men passed each other, once, twice, three times. The tension building with each near miss, until finally the two knights clashed again.
Daemon's opponent had a slight edge over him, being bigger and stronger, but Daemon was quicker. But on the fourth pass, his opponent managed to catch him off guard, sending him flying into the dirt.
The crowd gasped, their hands covering their mouths as the prince's horse bucked and ran, leaving him in the dust.
You winced at the sight, it wasn't a good fall. He landed on his back, hard, and he lay still for a moment, his eyes squeezed shut as he caught his breath.
Only when the head maid cleared her throat did you realize you had been holding your breath.
"You are needed in the prince's tent, girl." she commanded, grabbing the jug from your hands and giving you a stern look.
You nodded, taking the tray of food and wine from the table and heading out of the box. Your heart was racing and your palms were sweaty, the thought of seeing Daemon after such a public humiliation was not something you were looking forward to.
The air was alive with the roar of the people, and the thumping of their feet sounded like thunder. They were chanting for the champion, something that would surely upset Daemon even more.
When you got to his tent, you hesitated, taking a moment to calm your nerves. You closed your eyes and took a deep breath, letting the noise of the crowd fade away.
You stepped inside, finding him sitting in a chair, his shirt was off and his squire was cleaning a nasty gash on his arm.
"I'm sorry for intruding, Prince Daemon." You said, placing the tray of food on the table and pouring a cup of wine.
"Leave," he barked at his squire, his voice was gruff and his jaw was clenched.
"But my prince-" his squire protested, looking up from the wound he was treating.
"Now."
The boy left quickly, leaving you alone with the brooding prince.
"Would you like some wine, my lord?" You asked, your voice soft and timid, the last thing you wanted was to make him even more upset.
"No," he hissed, his voice sharp as a knife. "Bring me a new shirt."
You did as he asked, walking over to the large chest in the corner. It was full of clothes, the colors and fabrics were fine and beautiful. You selected a clean white shirt and brought it over to him, your eyes focused on the ground.
"Look at me," he commanded, his voice was quiet, but it was a demand, not a request.
You lifted your eyes, meeting his gaze. His eyes were cold, the same shade of violet that had captivated you was now a glare.
You did very well, my lord," You tried to reassure him, your voice soft and comforting.
"Is that meant to be comforting?" He asked, his tone was harsh and his expression was a scowl.
"Fine. I have never seen a worse display than the one you put on today," you said, the words slipping from your mouth before you could stop them.
He smiled, then laughed, his shoulders shaking as his amusement grew. Only his brother the king would ever talk to him this way, and here you were, a young low born northerner, mocking him. He didn't know why he enjoyed it coming from you, perhaps it was because your words meant nothing. You were no one, and he was the prince, and yet he found himself intrigued.
"That was quite a show, wasn't it?" He chuckled, the sound was hollow, not at all humorous.
"It was humiliating," you answered, the words escaping before you could stop them.
"Careful," he warned, his eyes narrowing. "You're lucky I find your insolence amusing."
"I thought it was why you had asked for me," you retorted, setting the shirt on the table and taking a step back.
He stood up from the chair, closing the space between the two of you. The air was thick with tension, his eyes boring into yours, his face was inches from yours.
"I didn't lose the tourney," he stated, his voice a low growl.
"You didn't win either," you countered, your cheeks flushed red, your heart racing in your chest.
He smiled, the gesture was almost predatory, he reached out and grabbed your face, his hands were rough and his grip was tight.
"You are quite the mouthy little wench," his words were a harsh whisper, his breath hot against your skin.
You didn't answer, afraid of what he would do if you spoke. He seemed to be enjoying himself, his eyes dancing with amusement as he stared at you.
"On your knees," he ordered, his tone demanding.
"My lord, I-" you protested, trying to pull away.
"Kneel," his voice was louder this time, and you knew that he was not going to repeat himself.
You hesitated for a moment, but he was the prince, and you couldn't disobey him. So you lowered yourself onto your knees, looking up at him, waiting for him to tell you what to do next.
"Is it true that northern girls can take a cock better than southern ones?" He asked, his hand still holding onto your chin.
You didn't know how to respond, his words making your cheeks burn. You could only stare at him, your mind reeling as you tried to figure out what he wanted.
He smiled, and the look in his eyes made your heart race. "Open your mouth, little northerner."
You did as he commanded, your eyes never leaving his. He pushed his thumb past your lips and slowly pressed down onto your tongue, rubbing it in circles before slowly dragging it out.
Your lips parted and your breathing became heavier as he traced his wet thumb across your bottom lip, his eyes fixated on the movement.
"Beautiful." He whispered before sliding his thumb back into your mouth, pushing it all the way into your throat, causing you to gag.
He pulled his thumb from your mouth and wiped the spit off on your cheek before grabbing you by the arms and lifting you up, turning you around and pushing you face first into the table.
"My lord," you gasped, struggling against his strong grip.
Daemon laughed at the look of shock on your face, his cock growing harder at the sight. "See? I knew you would make a great whore," he smirked, his words bringing a flush to your face.
He pulled your dress up, exposing your ass and legs. His hands were rough as he groped you, squeezing your thighs and your cheeks.
You pushed against him, trying to free yourself, but his grip was too strong. He pushed your thighs apart, his hand trailing up to your cunt, his fingers stroking your entrance, teasing you.
He softened at your defiance, a smirk crossing his lips. "I enjoy you, little northerner. Perhaps I should keep you," he mused.
He slid his finger into your cunt, his touch gentle and slow. You whimpered, pushing against him again.
"You would be my little northern flower," he murmured, his finger moving in and out of your cunt, the pace becoming quicker. "A blue rose in my garden."
You were ashamed of how aroused you were, the prince's touch was intoxicating, and you couldn't stop yourself from grinding your hips against his hand. You had never been with a man before and the pleasure he was giving you was beyond anything you had ever felt.
He slid another finger inside of you, his movements quick and rough. You moaned, biting your lip as you felt yourself getting closer to release.
He suddenly pulled away, the sudden absence of his touch made you whimper. He spun you around, knocking objects off the table and pinning you against it. Your hands went to his chest, pushing him back, but his grip was too strong, his eyes filled with lust.
"You're a feisty one," he whispered, his lips trailing down your neck, his hands gripping your ass, lifting you up and pressing you against his hips. "I guess it's true that the fires always burn hotter in the north,"
You shivered as he sucked and bit at the skin on your neck, his teeth scraping across your sensitive flesh, leaving red marks behind. You couldn't help but moan, the feeling was so intense, and the sounds were so sinful.
"My prince... I..." You stuttered, trying to find the words, but he cut you off with a kiss.
The feel of his hands on your body, his lips on yours, his cock hard against you, was intoxicating. You had never felt this way before, this desire, this want. He made you feel like you were drowning in the fire of his touch. He was a dragon, and he would take what he wanted.
You couldn't resist, you gave in, kissing him back, letting his tongue explore your mouth. He smelled of blood, dirt and sweat, a combination that shouldn't have been appealing, but was.
You could taste his lust on your lips, and it made you hungry for more. You wrapped your legs around his waist, pressing yourself closer to him, and he moaned, the sound rumbling in his chest. He was so much larger than you, so much stronger, and you felt so small in his arms.
His hand trailed down your chest, slowly untying the strings that held up your dress, his fingers tracing over the fabric, teasing you.
"Sweet little northern girl," he teased, his voice a low growl. "Are you going to give yourself to me?"
"Yes," you whispered, your cheeks flushed pink.
He kissed you again, his lips rough and demanding, his hand pushing your dress down, exposing your breasts. "You've never touched yourself before, have you?”
"No, my Prince," you whispered, your little hands curled into his chest, your nails digging into his skin.
"That's alright, I'll show you how it's done."
His hands slid down to your thighs, his fingers trailing up, his touch light and teasing. You let out a gasp as his fingers brushed over your cunt, touching a spot that made your body tremble.
"This little spot right here," he said, rubbing his thumb against it, "is the most sensitive part of your body. The more pressure, the better."
You nodded, gasping and moaning as he pressed his thumb against it, circling it. You could feel the heat rising within you, the pleasure building.
"Feels good doesn't it?" He whispered, his voice husky, his lips brushing against your ear.
"Y-yes," you stuttered, your hips moving, grinding against his hand.
He chuckled, the sound sending shivers down your spine.
"Do you like being my little whore, hmm?" He asked, his lips trailing down your neck, his kisses hot and wet.
"N-no," you moaned, pushing him back, trying to fight against him.
He laughed, his teeth nipping at your collarbone. "Liar," he whispered, his tongue licking over the marks he'd made.
His hands reaching down to his waist, undoing his breeches and pulling them off, his cock springing free. You gasped, your eyes wide as you took in the size of him.
He took your hand and placed it on his cock, his eyes burning into yours. "Go on, feel it," he whispered.
Your fingers curled around his cock, your small hand barely able to fit around him. You moved your hand, sliding it down the length of his shaft, his cock thick and pulsing in your hand. His skin was so warm and smooth, his breathing deepening as you began to move your hand up and down, stroking him slowly.
You could see the scars from battle stretched across his chest and torso. Small claw-like marks around his pectoral and a deep line that stretched down the left side of his rib cage. He was a hardened warrior, and you could tell by his scars, he had been through much to get where he was now.
You squeezed his cock, moving your hand up and down, his breathing deepening and his eyes growing hazy. He watched you, his gaze following every movement you made. You were starting to get more comfortable, taking pleasure in watching him, in making him feel good. You found the nerve to press the pad of your thumb against the tip, feeling the moisture leaking from him.
"Good girl," he praised, his voice low and husky.
You felt a wave of pride, knowing that you were pleasing him, that he liked the way you were touching him. You continued to stroke him, squeezing and pulling at his cock, watching his face, seeing the pleasure on his features.
He groaned, his eyes closing and his head tilting back, his breath catching. You could feel his cock throbbing in your hand, and you knew that he was getting close.
He let out a low growl and grabbed your wrist, halting your movements. "If you keep that up, I'm going to spill my seed all over this pretty little dress of yours," he said, his eyes full of heat.
"Is that so, my lord?" You asked, unable to hide the hint of amusement in your voice.
He grabbed your hips and pulled you under him, his body caging you, trapping you beneath him. He was breathing hard, his face flushed, his cock hard and resting on your stomach. His eyes burned into yours, his gaze intense, his hands gripping your hips, holding you steady.
You weren't talking back anymore, he could see the fear in your eyes, the hesitance, and that only made him want you more. His hand went to your throat, applying gentle pressure, a silent warning.
He could feel you trembling beneath him, and he tightened his grip, a primal, possessive urge rising within him. Your small hands pushing into his chest, clutching at his heated flesh.
"Open for me," he growled, his eyes fixed on yours.
You parted your thighs, allowing him to press closer to you. He growled, lifting your legs and wrapping them around his waist, his cock brushing against your cunt. He felt you tighten, your eyes widening with trepidation.
He chuckled, loving how terrified and eager you were at the same time. He gave you a moment, and then he slowly pushed into you. You whimpered, your nails digging into his back, your eyes closed, your face twisted in pain.
"Breathe," he said, rubbing his thumb against your cheek, "it will hurt for a just moment and then I will make you feel good,"
You nodded, taking a deep breath as you felt his cock hit your maidenhead.
"Are you ready, little northerner?" He whispered.
You gripped his forearms and nodded.
He pushed in slowly, breaking through your barrier. You cried out, the pain was intense and immediate. He groaned, the feel of your tight cunt was intoxicating.
He stayed still, giving you time to adjust. Your nails dug into his arms, leaving deep scratches in his flesh.
"Such a pretty, tight little cunt," he growled, nipping at your neck.
You kept your eyes closed, trying to focus on his words and not the pain. He began to move with slow, deep strokes, his cock stretching you, filling you. He was bigger than he felt in your hands, and you swore you could feel him everywhere.
He moaned, his hips rocking into you, his hand still on your throat, making you feel lightheaded. You looked up at him with wide eyes, your lips parted, your cheeks flushed. You felt so full of him, stretched open, the pain and pleasure mixing into one.
He watched your reaction with a smirk, amused by your shocked, satisfied expression. He was moving slowly, enjoying your warmth and the feel of your cunt clenching around him. He knew you were enjoying it, too, your eyes half-closed, a soft moan escaping your lip. Your small frame was arched to his body, your hands holding on to his neck.
You were surprised at his gentleness. You'd heard that the dragon prince liked to rough up women, but he was being as careful as if you were made of spun sugar. You felt so small and helpless underneath him, his large body nearly engulfing yours, and yet he wasn't hurting you. His touch was delicate, reverent. The way he spoke to you, calling you pet names, made your heart skip a beat.
You arched against him, a soft cry leaving your lips as his strokes got faster, deeper, hitting a place inside you that sent a sharp, hot pleasure through you.
"Does my little northerner like her prince's cock?" He said, a laugh in his voice, he began to pick up the pace, pounding into you.
You squeaked and pushed on his chest, the sensations becoming too much. He grabbed your hips and held you still, fucking you hard and fast, his eyes full of fire.
You felt your release rising up inside you, the tension in your body winding tighter and tighter. You could feel yourself clamping down on his cock, the pleasure almost too much, the sweet pain sending you over the edge.
He groaned at the sight of you coming undone, your breath coming in short, sharp gasps as you shattered around him. He could feel the tension in your muscles as your climax tore through you. He slowed his movements, easing out the last waves of pleasure, drawing it out until you were a shuddering, moaning mess.
He was close behind, his thrusts erratic, his breathing harsh. He pulled out and spilled his seed across your stomach, his hips bucking. He pressed his forehead against yours, his eyes closed, a contented sigh leaving his lips. At least he had one victory today.
Your face was hot with shame, your mind unable to comprehend what just happened. The prince's seed was cooling on your stomach and chest, the reality of the situation finally sinking in. Your hands went to your face, covering it as tears came to your eyes, you had never felt so good and so embarrassed at once.
He moved off of you, his eyes locked on yours, a smirk crossing his lips. He looked satisfied, his gaze wandering over your body, lingering on the wetness between your legs, the mess he'd made of you. He tossed you a cloth to clean yourself with. You wiped his seed off your skin, watching him dress, his blonde hair still braided back, his purple eyes full of lust and desire. He was a warrior, a dragon, he was beauty and strength, power and masculinity. He was everything you wanted and feared, a beast who could destroy you.
He gave you a side glance, his eyes full of amusement. "You may go," he said, shooing you away with a hand.
Your cheeks flushed with embarrassment, as you took a shaky breath. You stood up, gathering the pieces of your dress and your underclothes. Your legs were wobbly, and you felt weak, sore, and full of shame.
"Yes, my prince," you said quietly, looking at the floor, unable to meet his eyes.
He chuckled, the sound of his voice making you shiver. "Don't be so timid, little northerner. This is the beginning, not the end," he said, his words sending a jolt of fear and excitement through you.
He was right, this was only the beginning. You were his servant, and he could do with you as he pleased. He would have you come to him whenever he chose, on the warmest summer nights and the coldest winter days. He would take what he wanted, when he wanted.
He was a dragon, and his will was as strong as his blood.
And deep down, you knew you would enjoy it. He was the perfect thing to distract you from the mundanity of your life, the endless monotony of serving others.
Perhaps the Red Keep wouldn't be so terrible, not if it meant serving him.
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tacticaldiary · 1 year
Text
A Fighting Chance
Pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Reader
Genre: Hurt/Comfort
"When was the last time you kissed me and meant it?" Her voice drops into something akin to defeat.
And Simon...Simon feels like the rug's been pulled from under his feet.
Part 2, Masterlist,
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"What're those?"
"Papers."
Ghost pauses halfway through opening the document, glancing up at the curtness of her voice. "Papers? She doesn't meet his eyes, gaze fixed on the table of the little booth they're sitting in.
The ice in her drink is long gone, watering down her coffee into something that tastes as bitter as her heart.
It had taken months for her to finally make this decision. Days of talking with her lawyer, crying alone at night and coming to the gruelling acceptance that this was for the best. It was best for both of them.
There's not many things that unsettle Simon. He's had blood stain his hands; his own, his comrades, and his enemies. Had almost any injury you could think of marring his skin, been prodded and ripped into, been the one on the opposite end of the knife.
But as he slides out the documents, turns them over, Simon's never felt more apprehensive.
He stills, reading the first few lines, clenching his jaw. "What is this?"
"I want a divorce."
And something in him crumbles at her defeated tone. Like she's already decided. Like he doesn't even have a chance to ask why or talk it through.
"No." He says tightly, putting them down and crossing his arms.
Her gaze shoots to his. "You can't just say that."
"I did. I won't sign them."
"I want this." She argues, and Simon swallows back the lump in his throat at how utterly tired she looks.
"I don't."
She's the light of his life, the one good, untouched piece of joy he gets to see. Something other than the bloodshed and violence he lives in.
"Simon," She says, shoulders sagging forward. "I can't do this anymore."
"This isn't the solution, love." He feels like his skin is crawling, the beginnings of unfamiliar panic clawing at his chest when she doesn't react to the pet name.
Doesn't smile, doesn't flush that beautiful red, doesn't squirm.
When she doesn't respond again, tight-lipped and clammed up and so determined to not look at him, he asks the question burning a hole through his tongue.
"Why?"
Deep down he knows. Knew this was coming but that part of him is buried under the thudding of his heart, and the rush of blood in his ears. Everything feels deathly still and moving too fast at the same time.
"Why?" She repeats, something in her stirring at the question. Her brow furrows and she switches from a cautious indifference to disbelief and frustration quicker than Simon can process. "Are you serious?" She huffs out an incredulous laugh. "You're away for months at a time and I'm supposed to what? Wait for you at our doorstep and wag my tail all happy when you finally come back to me?" Her grip tightens on her drink.
"Even when you are home, it's never about us. Never about me and you. You lock yourself in your study with your work, don't talk to me unless you come out for dinner or lunch. When was the last time we went out?" She demands. "When was the last time we went on a date? The last time we slept at the same time in the same bed?"
Simon clenches his jaw but says nothing, at a loss for words. It only encourages her to keep going, spewing thoughts that have been boiling over for the past few years.
"You barely look at me when we're home, I had to drag you out of the house to get here! You left halfway through our anniversary dinner last year because work called you in. Sometimes...sometimes I feel like you're only with me because it's easier than leaving and starting over, and that fucking hurts. It hurts when you can't bear to spend five minutes with me away from work. I've been telling you this for ages but you just...you don't listen to me." She leans forward, drink completely forgotten and hits the final nail in the coffin.
"When was the last time you kissed me and meant it?" Her voice drops into something akin to defeat.
And Simon...Simon feels like the rug's been pulled from under his feet.
"I never even know if you're coming home to me." Her voice cracks, and she hugs her middle, taking a deep breath to steady herself. "So yes, Simon, I want to separate. I'm not happy, not like I was when I met you." A sheen of tears she refuses to let fall.
"You can focus on work like you love to, and I can...I can move on."
It was so good when they started out. She found him endearing, dry humour and brooding and all. It was special, those first few years, and she'll always care about him but this...this waiting, this hurting, laying in bed at night alone and cold and crying...it wasn't right. It wasn't what she wanted and she wouldn't force Simon to want it when he clearly didn't want to.
"Fucking hell, I love you." Simon says quickly, stumbling over what to say. He reaches out for her hand on the table, but she pulls it away before he can grab it. It stings more than he can convey, makes the reality crashes down onto him.
He's about to lose her.
Because he couldn't fucking bear to pull himself out of being 'Ghost'.
It was always a rough couple of weeks during his leave. The adjustment to civilian life was a slow one for him, but that's not really an excuse at all.
"I don't think you do."
Simon blinks at her like she's slapped him. "You...you don't think so?" He repeats, running a hand through his hair. She nods, one nod, quick and so sure that it makes his chest ache.
Fuck. He's absolutely messed up.
"Everything's finalised on my end." She says. "You just need to sign them." Her voice is soft, almost like she's coaxing him.
If there's one thing he knows, it's that he's not touching those fucking papers. He's not losing someone he loves again.
"I'll take time off." He says, the intensity of his gaze makes a shiver run down her spine. "We can work through it, yeah? You can't spring this on me and not give me a chance to protest."
She shakes her head, "You're only taking time off because I'm upset." She tries to explain. "What do you think is going to happen? We spend a month together doing what we used to, and when everything's a little more stable you leave again. Distance yourself. Shut me out. Then we're back to square one."
"Won't happen." He says like he hasn't been doing it for the past few years already. "You...I can't lose you, darling." He leans forward. "Let me make it better. Give me a few months-"
"Simon-"
"A week."
"A week?" Her eyes widen. "A week to...what, prove that you'll change?"
"One week."
She worries her lip between her teeth, considering. One week wasn't a long time, but hope was dangerous in a situation like this.
"I'm not letting you go over something like this." Simon says. "I can't."
"This isn't about you." She crosses her arms. "You really think you can turn just...reverse the past few years in a week?" Maybe it's foolish of her to want him to say yes, to fight for her and realise that she's been hurting, but goddamn doesn't a small part of her scream at him to do it anyway.
"Not trying to reverse it." He folds his arms, and she can see the tense line of his shoulders as he takes in the situation, gears turning in his head as he plans how he's going to work his way out of a situation so precious and daunting as this.
Part of him didn't think it would ever come to this. Yes, he can be cold and aloof but Simon thought she knew that he loved her through it all. No matter what.
When was the last time you kissed me and meant it?
Fuck if that doesn't tear through his chest more painfully than any caliber bullet ever could.
He takes her in quietly for a moment.
The woman he fell in love with. The person that gave him a reason to keep going, a motive to feel anything other than the cold efficientness of loading a gun and firing. Soft touches and warm smiles, something so at odds with the rough life he's used to.
Sitting there in front of him, she looks more beautiful than he remembers, and it only proves to make his stomach sink like a stone at the notion of seeding any doubt about his feelings in her heart.
A right fucking bastard he was for it.
"I'm sorry." He breathes out, much softer than the gruff voice he's been using with her. "I'll do better. Just give me a chance, yeah?"
For one horrible moment, Simon thinks she'll decline. That she'll slide over the papers again and demand he sign them.
But she considers his words for a moment before nodding once.
And it's all he needs.
A fighting chance.
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Part 2
(11/10/2023)
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