#and how despite everything. all of them are still you
Text
sincerely yours. (11)
↳ gojou satoru/reader
when a twist of fate led their marriage to the path of a quintessential tragic romance, two past lovers go through another series of experiences on love, heartbreak, identity, illness, and trauma along the road to a happily ever after.
genre. heavy angst, amnesia, modern au, 18+
tags/warnings. depression, cheating, trauma, implied suicide attempt, toxic relationships
notes. 12k wc. we're so close to the finale <3 thanks so much for the continued support and for the patience you guys have with this series :')
series masterlist -> episode twelve
For better and worse.
Weddings are funny things. Despite the strict adherence to ceremonial traditions, they didn’t guarantee a happily ever after. Exchanging vows and the signing of marriage certificates could become meaningless when a couple faces challenges that would drive them apart. Consider the high-profile divorces of Angelina Jolie and Brad Pitt, Jennifer Garner and Ben Affleck, or Katie Holmes and Tom Cruise. Divorce had become so common that it almost seemed inevitable for many couples, even the ones with the most fairytale-like relationships. No one was safe from the idea of a divorce. So, was having a wedding really that important? Would it really define the quality and longevity of a relationship?
Satoru might have been thinking bitterly about it, given that his own marriage wasn’t exactly a shining success. However, he was also being rational when he said that weddings weren’t necessary to prove your love for each other. Early in his marriage, he certainly wasn’t the best husband, but over time, he learned to genuinely become a good partner to his ex-wife. There was no specific time frame for loving someone. You could be together for weeks, months, or years, yet the depth of love you share might remain unchanged. This constancy can be either a blessing or a curse, depending on how deep your love was from the beginning.
Well… On the topic of marriages, Satoru had no good thing to say. But that didn’t mean he shouldn’t participate in it. Weddings were still considered a special celebration for families and close friends, and He would be selfish not to share in such a beautiful event with his best friends. Besides, wasn’t it always expected that Suguru and Shoko would end up marrying each other? They were lucky—fortunate because their marriage was built on a foundation of genuine love. In contrast, Satoru’s marriage began out of convenience, which ultimately led to all the terrible things that followed.
As the best man, Satoru strode confidently alongside Suguru down the aisle, both adorned in princely tuxedos, drawing the eyes of the guests as they followed their procession. There were teasing remarks, smiles all around, and even a comment from one of the groom’s female cousins about how handsome they both looked. Despite the gentle commotion, Satoru understood why Suguru remained nervous as they reached the end of the aisle. He comfortingly stood by his side, offered a reassuring pat on the back, silently communicating to his best friend that everything would be alright.
“Don’t tell me you’ll back out now,” Satoru jested, whispering in Suguru’s ear as they observed the guests entering in accordance with the processional order.
Suguru, with his once long hair now neatly trimmed and slicked back, cleared his throat in an attempt to appear less anxious. “What if she gets cold feet?”
Gojou couldn’t help but tease. “Shoko? You really think she’d have cold feet?” he chuckled. “She’d be the one dragging your ass back to this garden if you tried to run away.”
“Fair enough.”
Just the night before, they had checked into the Hoshinoya Fuji to celebrate Suguru's last night of freedom. While there was drinking involved, one of the groomsmen insisted it wouldn’t be a proper bachelor’s party without some female company. So, inevitably, there were women in the hotel room, one of whom even gave Suguru a lap dance even though he showed no interest whatsoever. It was amusing to Satoru, considering his best friend used to be the biggest casanova, and now he was a committed and loyal man who, not only was terrified out of his wits on his wedding day, but was also afraid that the one woman he loved might run away from him.
Such genuine, pure love.
As Satoru pondered, his gaze landed on Akemi, who was seated a couple of rows back among the other guests. She had just arrived, her hair tied elegantly in a low ponytail and her silky sage dress accentuating her womanly figure flawlessly. She was wearing the diamond Tiffany & Co. earrings he had gifted her, which made her stand out among the rest of the people in that garden. Their eyes also met at the perfect moment, her gaze sparkling upon seeing Satoru in his tuxedo. He offered her a smile, one that silently conveyed ‘I’ll be there with you later,’ and she immediately understood.
How fortunate was Satoru to have her? Perhaps the reason for her late appearance was because she had been looking after Sachiro back home, fulfilling the duties that his ex-wife should have been doing. She was truly a mother who stepped up, especially during a time when both he and his son felt most abandoned.
And what about you? Who knew if you would even attend the wedding? You were meant to be Ieiri’s maid-of-honor, yet you were conspicuously absent. Perhaps you were still in Monaco, enjoying your time playing house with Toji, making a wedding like this seem insignificant to you. You would have informed Miwa in advance and picked up Sachiro if you had returned to Tokyo, right? Suguru also hadn’t mentioned anything about your arrival at the accommodation, hinting that someone else would have to step in as Shoko's maid-of-honor.
But who would it be? Shoko’s cousin? One of her other female co-workers? Her high school friend?
“Look, mom! She’s beautiful~”
Satoru was rendered speechless, utterly captivated by the sight before him. His fingers tingled with anticipation, his heart raced in his chest, his feet felt rooted to the ground, and his eyes remained fixed on the next lady gracefully making her way down the aisle. He couldn’t quite pinpoint what struck him the most: was it the sight of you in a stunning light green dress, resembling an angel descended from the heavens, or was it the haunting reminder of his own wedding day, when you walked down the same aisle as his most beautiful bride?
His breath caught in his throat, his chest tightening with each step you took down the aisle. Satoru felt like a statue, frozen in place, unable to tear his gaze away from you. You had become the sole focus of his attention, the rest of the world fading into a blur around him. He couldn’t comprehend it. Why was it so effortless for him to let his guard down around you?
This woman, he thought. This woman is Sachiro’s mother. This was the same woman that carried his flesh and blood for nine months, now appearing as radiant as a freshly bloomed flower, as if untouched by the stresses of unexpected motherhood. What had transpired in Monaco to transform you into this vision of beauty?
“You’re drooling.” Suguru nudged him on the chest. “This isn’t your wedding. You had your chance.”
Yes, he was well aware. This wasn’t his wedding, and he needed to maintain composure. Yet, it felt as though he was being drawn inexorably towards the mesmerizing goddess before him. With each beat of his heart quickening, he struggled to remind himself: No, Satoru. She's nothing to you now.
And because he was lost in a trance, he remained oblivious to the bride’s entrance and even Suguru’s emotional reaction to seeing his bride. His attention was solely fixated on you as he stole glances your way whenever he could. It wasn’t until the exchanging of rings, when you two had to stand side by side to assist the bride and groom, that he snapped back to reality. With you so close yet seemingly distant, Satoru felt a pang of disappointment as you never returned his gaze. The whispers and side comments from the guests also added to his discomfort, making him acutely aware of the scrutiny placed upon the best man and maid-of-honor.
“Aren’t they divorced?”
“Yeah, their marriage was a wreck.”
“They’re bad luck. I hope they don’t pass it onto the couple.”
For the first time in a long time, Satoru was gripped by an unprecedented desire to retort, to refute the misconceptions surrounding his marriage. Yet, he knew it was futile. Engaging in a verbal sparring match with another guest would only ruin his best friends' special day. Moreover, he might risk causing unintentional hurt to Akemi by defending a marriage that had long ceased to exist. So, despite the internal turmoil, he remained silent, allowing the whispers to persist unchecked.
And, with that, the wedding ceremony ended. Shoko and Suguru were now declared husband and wife.
— —
The reception was a time for socializing, enjoying drinks and hors d’oeuvres, and congratulating the newlyweds. For Suguru and Shoko, this part of the celebration felt effortless and their energies were seamlessly complementing each other’s. Unlike arranged marriages, there was no sense of haste or coercion; theirs was a union born of genuine affection. You couldn’t help but feel foolish for ever entertaining the notion that this was merely a conventional wedding experience. Here, before your eyes, unfolded a true celebration of love between two people.
Did Satoru share the same sentiments? You wondered what thoughts raced through his mind during the proceedings. Did the event trigger memories of his own past, or stir feelings of longing for what could have been?
You refused to subject yourself to the torment of dwelling on your past. If anything, your time living alone in Monaco had been a crucial step in your healing journey. While the process was far from complete, that solitary retreat had provided a much-needed respite from the source of your stress. It afforded you the opportunity to contemplate the life you were destined to lead, albeit alone for the foreseeable future.
By allowing Sachiro to spend more time with his father, you not only facilitated the rebuilding of their fractured relationship, but also acclimated your child to your absence. It was a necessary adjustment, one that would prepare him for the reality of your impending solitary existence. At least, Sachiro had a chance to live in a loving household with Satoru and Akemi, instead of a miserable and lonely way of living together with you.
In the end, it was all for your child.
As for the potential emotional minefield of attending this wedding, you were there for Shoko, who had always been a steadfast and understanding presence in your life. Her genuine friendship meant more to you than mere familial bonds ever could. Even at the risk of stirring up unhealthy emotions by being in a room full of people who hurt you, you couldn’t bear to disappoint Ieiri.
Admittedly though, navigating the wedding crowd was a delicate balance of warmth and formality. Ieiri’s side of the family, who were doctors heavily acquainted with your family, greeted you with genuine warmth. While Suguru’s relatives, who were more closely tied to the Gojou family, maintained a polite distance. Although there were occasional moments of discomfort, you knew how to maintain composure throughout.
As for Toji’s absence, while a part of you wished he could have been there as a supportive presence, you also recognized the value in learning to handle situations involving your ex-husband independently. He had an unavoidable business trip, but that also provided an opportunity for you to stop relying on him and navigate such occasions like these on your own. He was nothing more than a friend now.
While that ex-husband, Satoru, was here with your best friend. It didn’t surprise you that he had brought Akemi as a plus one. In fact, you had expected it to happen. It just wasn’t the best feeling to be the maid-of-honor when the best man clearly had another lady for it in mind.
It was quite amusing, too. Not once had Akemi approached you during the reception. You understood that she wanted to keep her distance, but you found it disrespectful that she was ignoring your existence. Was she scared to talk to you? Scared of what you had to say? You had heard over a million hurtful things from other people, yet she was afraid to hear a few pieces of advice from you?
Forget it. Forget her and Satoru. Focus on the reception, Y/N.
But really, how could you? As the moment arrived for the newlyweds’ first dance, tradition dictated that the best man and maid-of-honor should also take to the floor. You sensed the tension in the air as Satoru hesitated, surrounded by urging groomsmen, deciding whether or not he should ask you for a dance. He looked like he was battling with what was right and wrong in his mind, yet ultimately he chose to pass by you, extending his hand to Akemi instead.
It wasn’t feelings of shame that slapped you to reality. It was seeing Satoru holding Akemi’s hand, another on her waist, as they slowly danced to Can’t Help Falling In Love, a song that was played on your wedding day.
Take my hand
Take my whole life too
Oh, for I can’t help
Falling in love with you
It shouldn’t hurt anymore. You were doing better. You were doing so good, you were doing… you were okay. You should be okay. Or did you overestimate your emotions a little too much? Because this, seeing the man you loved with all your heart holding another woman in his arms, was tortuous to your soul. You could feel the pains of your past tugging at your heart, wondering why he never danced like that with you on your wedding day? Why he never stared at you like you were the most beautiful girl in the world, why he never showed you off in a room full of curious people, why he never respected you enough to treat you with such… with such love.
“Everything okay?”
You didn’t expect Nanami, out of all people, to be offering you a handkerchief. You hadn’t even realized that your eyes were already pooling of the tears if he had not cut you out of trance, offering a comforting and sympathetic smile. You had to blink multiple times just to push your tears back in.
“Yeah,” you answered with a grateful expression. I’m strong. I’ll be fine. “Thank you.”
Nanami took that as a sign to offer his hand. “Care for a dance, then?”
Wiping your eyes, you nodded, smiling at the man. “Why not?”
After the dance, the reception continued as follows. The cake cutting, the dinner service, then the toasts and speeches. If it wasn’t for Nanami, you wouldn’t have been able to pick yourself back up after the humiliation of seeing Satoru and Akemi dancing together. You just needed a decent amount of air to breathe and gather yourself together again. It was a nice help from someone who wasn’t a personal acquaintance of yours, that despite being Satoru’s right hand man in the company, Nanami still had some kindness in him that you would forever be thankful for.
And when it was time for you to do your speech as the MOH, you didn’t let a single vulnerable emotion slip out of you. For that short moment, you tried not to think about who was in the audience, about what they thought of you, and about what other preconceived notions they had of you. You focused on the newlyweds as you stood in front of the mic stand, eye-to-eye with Shoko and Suguru, who were holding each other’s hands.
“Shoko,” you began, smiling genuinely at the couple, “Through the laughter and tears, you’ve been my constant, my confidante, my rock. And today, as I watch you embark on this new chapter of your life, I’m honestly a bit overwhelmed with emotion.”
The bride returned your smile, and you can tell Shoko was holding back tears of her own as she glanced between you and Satoru.
You continued your speech, observing Suguru’s supportive gesture towards his wife as you spoke. “Shoko, I recall our late-night conversations, the tears shed over broken marriages, and the pain of shattered relationships. Yet, through it all, you’ve remained steadfast in your belief in love, in hope, in the possibility of a happily ever after.” Turning to Suguru, although he still had that lingering discomfort around you, you offered him nothing but heartfelt words. “As I look at you and Suguru, I’m reminded that true love exists—a love that is patient, kind, and enduring. My wish for you both is a lifetime filled with laughter, joy, and unwavering support for each other. May you cherish each other’s hearts, protect each other’s dreams, and weather life’s storms together, stronger in your love. Suguru, during your challenging days as a married couple, I pray that you always look at Shoko and remember why you love her. I pray that you will always have the capacity to cherish and respect her as your wife and the future mother of your children. May you keep her in your heart, no matter what challenges may come your way.”
As tears welled in Ieiri’s eyes, your voice faltered, the magnitude of your wishes for their marriage weighing heavily on your own unfulfilled desires. You weren’t trying to make this about you, and you hoped they thought that, too.
“As I raise my glass to toast this beautiful union,” you said, raising the champagne glass on your hand, “I do so with a heart full of love and a silent prayer—that your love story will be one of triumph, of healing, and of endless happiness. Congratulations, Shoko and Suguru!”
— —
Satoru was deeply affected by your speech. Both in good and bad ways. On one hand, he was touched by the sincerity of your words and the genuine wishes you extended to the newlywed couple. On the other hand, he couldn’t shake off the pang of guilt and remorse that accompanied your words, knowing all too well the history behind them. When you expressed your hopes for Suguru to always cherish and respect Shoko, Satoru couldn’t help but reflect on his own behavior during your marriage and the ways in which he may have fallen short.
Each action he did definitely had a lasting impact on you.
But what about the good ones? Had you forgotten about the times he treated you well? Had you forgotten the lengths he took just to prove to you that he was a changed man? That at one point in his life, he would do everything in him just to show you how much he loved you?
It was unfair. Why did you only ever look at the bad things he did and never the good ones? Why did you still see him as a villain in your marriage when he knew he had paid his dues after he lost you?
It was truly, honestly unfair, that you get to be happy with Toji, but he ought to feel guilty for being with Akemi.
“I think they’re about to do the bouquet and garter toss,” spoke Akemi, tugging at Satoru’s arm while they sat on their designated table. She held a napkin on her other hand to wipe her partner’s chin, smiling in excitement. “You should go and join.”
Where were you? After your speech, Satoru couldn’t seem to find you anymore. Where had you gone off to? Did you leave already?
“Y-Yeah,” Satoru answered, looking around the venue before turning to Akemi. “What about you? Won’t you join the bouquet toss thing?”
She shook her head, hesitantly. “Isn’t it only for bridesmaids?”
He grabbed her hand and urged her up. “No, it’s for all unmarried female guests. Come on.”
The reason Satoru dragged her along was because Akemi loved weddings, and she especially enjoyed the traditions that came with it. She herself once dreamt about the picture perfect wedding, but never got to fully have her own, so attending such occasions made up for the lack of personally experiencing it.
Gojou couldn’t exactly remember if he did the garter toss in his own wedding. If so, who had caught it? Who had caught your bouquet? His eyes swept across the entire venue once more, searching for your familiar figure among the guests. He was too occupied to realize that Shoko had already tossed her bouquet, and the frenzy of eager ladies ensued until it landed in Akemi’s hands.
He genuinely felt happy for Akemi. The joy in her eyes upon catching Shoko’s bouquet was unmistakable. Yet, as the playful teasing about a potential wedding for him shifted in his direction, Satoru couldn’t help but feel a twinge of pressure. It wasn’t supposed to weigh on him like this. It was too soon to have that expectation of him.
“Looks like someone’s getting married next!”
And while he was feeling suffocated from the pressure placed upon him, the receiver of the tossed garter happened to have been Nanami.
Immediately, the teasing ensued, with the other guests urging Nanami to wear the garter on Akemi’s leg. Out of respect, Nanami looked at Gojou for permission, but honestly? He was just grateful he didn’t have to do all that and be pressured about another wedding that he had not yet thought about. Fuck it, thank God Nanami had caught the garter because Satoru was sure as hell starting to feel uneasy there.
“Go for it,” was the only thing Satoru said to Nanami, gesturing his chin at Akemi’s direction.
While everyone was focused on the situation between Nanami and Akemi, Satoru took that opportunity to escape from the crowd and find his peace at the balcony. He hastily made his way out of the reception hall, feeling a sense of relief as he could finally breathe.
And there you were, standing alone, lost in contemplation, and your gaze fixed upon the tranquil expanse of the lakeside. The chill breeze caressed your hair softly, as if mirroring the calm that enveloped your countenance. In another universe, this would have been an opportune moment to hug you from behind, sharing the warmth of his embrace around your figure. But he was living in a universe where you and him weren’t meant to be together.
In fact, you were probably thinking about another man as you stared at the lake, hoping that he was there with you.
“Did you have fun in Monaco with Toji?” Satoru was crazy for going straight to the point, and he knew it was a blunt inquiry, bordering on intrusive, but it tumbled out nonetheless, revealing the thoughts that had been plaguing in his mind. His words spilled out before he could rein them in, a question born of curiosity and perhaps a touch of jealousy.
As for you, with your peace in the balcony now ruined, you briefly opened your mouth to respond, but held back against it as you met Gojou’s eyes with a distant stare. You were even quick to look away and sigh, like he was not worth the conversation. You had not spoken a word to him since the wedding ceremony and you were definitely going to keep doing it.
And man, did that hurt his ego.
So, for a very stupid reason, he felt the need to hurt yours in return. “Do you know Sachi calls Akemi ‘mama’ in his sleep?”
Your eyes remained empty. “Good for you, then. You won’t have a hard time getting him accustomed to it.”
“Y/N.” Satoru’s voice came out as a warning, and he was about to start an argument on why you were abandoning him and Sachi over Toji, but he was interrupted at the appearance of Akemi carrying Shoko’s bouquet as she tried to search for her lover. This meant that the conversation with the ex-wife was over.
But as he glanced between you and Akemi, his bitter past and his sweet present, why did Satoru’s heart still lingered with you when it shouldn’t?
“You should go,” you briefly muttered, walking in the opposite direction, “Your future wife’s looking for you.”
Satoru’s sudden grip on your wrist halted your steps abruptly. His voice carried a bitter edge as he reminded you of the agreement you had made. “Y/N, we agreed to co-parent Sachiro properly. Why are you choosing Toji over your own son?”
The accusation left a tense atmosphere, eliciting a sharp response from you as you yanked your hand away, a flash of anger igniting in your eyes. “You have no idea what you're talking about, Satoru.”
— —
“Welcome to Hoshinoya Fuji, Ms. L/N!”
You stepped out of the car, taking in the serene beauty of the lakeside cabin that would be your sanctuary for the next three days and two nights. Nestled among towering pines and sturdy oaks, the cabin exuded a rustic charm that blended seamlessly with the natural landscape. Its weathered wooden exterior, adorned with a green tin roof, seemed to have grown organically from the earth itself.
The cabin sat on a gentle slope that led directly to the water’s edge. A wooden deck wrapped around the front, offering a perfect vantage point for gazing out over the tranquil lake. Your room also had the best view of Mount Fuji, which you thought was the highlight of this luxurious accommodation.
After the newlywed send-off, you were quickly ushered in by Shoko and Suguru’s staff, who were in charge of attending to the special guests staying a few extra days at the cabin. Though the couple wouldn’t start their proper honeymoon until their 6-month long cruise trip in two weeks, they wanted their guests to enjoy the accommodations they had arranged. You were relieved to hear that, despite Satoru and Akemi also being among the friends staying, each guest had their own private cabin reserved.
The thing was, you could leave any time if you wanted to. Shoko also reassured you that it would be okay and that she would understand if you wanted to go home right away. She knew that the situation may be uncomfortable for you, and that she felt bad you even had to deal with it during the ceremony, but you made a promise to her. You were her maid-of-honor for a reason, and part of your duty was to help with the post-ceremony tasks to ensure that Shoko can focus on enjoying her pre and post-wedding activities.
So, in some ways, you felt obliged to stay. You didn’t need to interact much with others during your stay, anyway. You were content staying in your room, perhaps taking some occasional walks outside. Satoru could do whatever he wanted with Akemi; you were determined to avoid crossing their paths.
Besides, inside the cabin was a cozy retreat. The main living area featured large windows that framed the picturesque view, allowing moonlight to spill in and illuminate the space. A stone fireplace, complete with a rustic mantel adorned with pinecones and candles, stood as the centerpiece of the room. Plush armchairs and a worn leather sofa invited relaxation, while a handwoven rug added a touch of warmth and color.
As you moved towards the bedroom, you found a comfortable queen-sized bed covered in a soft, plaid quilt. The scent of pine mingled with the faint aroma of fresh linens, creating an atmosphere of peaceful haven. An old-fashioned dresser and a bedside table, topped with a simple lamp, completed the room. The windows here, too, offered a glimpse of the sparkling lake, ensuring that the beauty of nature would greet you each morning.
Stepping outside, you walked down a short path to the water’s edge, where a small wooden dock extended into the lake. A pair of Adirondack chairs sat invitingly at the end of the dock, perfect for soaking in the sunset or stargazing at night. Nearby, a fire pit surrounded by stones and logs as seating promised cozy evenings under the stars, with the gentle sound of lapping water providing a soothing backdrop.
On your first night there, you ended up falling asleep right away. The physical and emotional exhaustion, combined with jetlag, knocked you out. However, the next day promised a few tasks to complete the post-wedding cleanup.
The second night, however, was a different story.
When you returned to the cabin, the cool evening air was crisp against your skin. The temperature went down a couple of celsius compared to yesterday, so as you walked down the path toward the lakeside, you were drawn to the flickering glow of a fire pit illuminating the area near the water’s edge. Drawing closer, the soft sounds of laughter and conversation reached your ears, mingling with the gentle crackle of burning logs.
The fire pit was surrounded by a group, their faces lit by the warm, golden light of the flames. They sat on a circle of logs and foldable chairs, leaning in to feel the comforting heat. Some held mugs of steaming cocoa, while others toasted marshmallows on long sticks, their tips glowing bright orange before transforming into gooey, sugary treats.
You paused for a moment and took in the scene. Was it a safe space for you to be in? You noticed familiar faces among the group—some of the couple’s old friends from the wedding, now relaxed and enjoying the peaceful night. One of the guests strummed a guitar softly, the melody adding to the cozy, inviting atmosphere. Another guest told a story, their animated expressions and gestures causing bursts of laughter from the listeners.
There was no sight of Satoru and Akemi. Perhaps, it might be okay to join in.
As you approached, Suguru emerged from a nearby cabin, smiling in a way that felt unusual. Why was he being friendly all of a sudden? Last time you checked, he still held a grudge against you. But now, he showed no signs of antagonism, and was even approaching you with his usual friendly demeanor.
“Y/N,” he said, the fog of his breath visible in the cold air, “I never got to thank you properly for helping us with everything here. I didn’t think you’d make it last minute.”
You wrapped your shawl tighter around yourself to ward off the chill. “It’s no trouble. I’m glad to help out and be here for you guys,” you replied warmly. And while glancing around, you noticed the absence of Shoko. “Where’s the missus?”
Suguru’s smile took on a mischievous edge. “Sleeping. She’s still pretty tired and…”
You interrupted him with a laugh, catching onto his suggestive tone. “Alright, you two. You’re wild.”
His grin softened into a sincere expression. “No, seriously. I never got to properly thank you. I never got to apologize to you either.” Suguru looked down with guilt. “I’m sorry for being an asshole to you. I was focusing too much on Satoru’s point-of-view, dismissing how it must be like to be in your position amidst all that mess. Shoko helped me understand why you made certain decisions, why you had no other option. She helped me see things from your perspective, to realize the extent of your suffering. We all knew that, I guess. We all knew you were constantly dealt a bad hand, yet you remain kind and resilient. You continue to show empathy to others, even when the world hasn’t been fair to you.”
In the ensuing silence, your heart seemed to thunder in your chest. His words carried weight far beyond what he might have intended, and you genuinely appreciated his apology. Even if he didn’t need to say them.
“I guess what I’m trying to say is, you’re a gem, Y/N.” Suguru gave your back a gentle pat. “You deserve to be happy in your own special way. And just like how you wished us well with our marriage, I hope you’ll find your own path to a happy marriage, too.”
“Thank you,” you mumbled, looking down with a forlorn smile.
“We’re here for you, okay?” he offered, “Shoko and I. You can count on us if you need us, if you need help with Sachiro, if you need help with life in general.”
“I appreciate it, really.”
And by then, he cleared his throat, opening up a topic that caught you off guard. You didn’t expect it from Suguru out of all people. “Y/N, I know why you were in Monaco.”
Of course. He’d know it from Shoko.
“I also know,” he continued, dark narrow eyes staring straight at yours, “why you left Sachiro with his father.”
You were a deer caught in the headlights. You wouldn’t say it felt invasive to have someone be aware of the reasoning behind your personal decisions, but it was just an altogether different feeling to know that it was your ex-husband’s best friend who knew.
“Why didn’t you tell him?” he asked, referring to Satoru, “That you broke up with Toji?”
You took a deep breath. “I don’t see the point of telling him.”
“What if I were to tell you that he’d come running desperately to you the moment he finds out?” he posed another burning question. “You still love him, right? You and him would likely get together without much difficulty if he were aware. So, why hesitate?”
“Because I don’t want that,” you answered, feeling words caught in your throat in a moment of vulnerability. “Because I’m scared to get back with him. Because he has Akemi now. Because I don’t wanna keep ruining the lives of the people around me. We’re better off this way, Suguru. I don’t want to mess up the second time around, and I definitely don’t think Satoru would be able to fully move on with his life with me still in the picture. He seems to be happy with Akemi already.”
Suguru smiled sadly. “You don’t even wanna get your revenge? Don’t wanna get back at your best friend for dating your ex?” he paused to correct himself, “Well, dating is the wrong term. Satoru insists they’re not exclusive, you know?”
You shook your head, sighing. Satoru, you haven’t changed. “It doesn’t matter. I’m fine with the way things are.”
He was on the verge of continuing, poised to persuade further, but the arrival of the very individuals in question brought an abrupt halt to his words. Descending the cabin steps was Shoko, trailed by Satoru, who, in a gesture of warmth, had draped his jacket around Akemi, with his arms encircling her.
All five of you found yourselves in an awkward situation, now faced with two couples, one of which was at the core of your distress. The tension was palpable, and it didn’t help that Satoru’s vivid blue eyes met yours, seemingly trying to decode the conversation between you and Suguru. That was none of his business. He could continue his affectionate display with Akemi, while you had other matters to attend to than be part of an awkward quintet.
“I should go,” you declared, avoiding eye contact with everyone, unwilling to play the fifth wheel. You were hoping to evade Satoru and Akemi’s presence, but both Shoko and Suguru already caught your arm.
“Y/N, please,” Shoko urged, her arm reaching out to you. “Don't isolate yourself tonight. Come join us.”
The memory of Bora Bora flooded your mind, a painful reminder of a similar situation when Shoko had extended the same invitation, leading to the discomfort of witnessing Sera’s closeness with Satoru. You knew that wasn’t Shoko’s intention, but it was your ex-husband who couldn’t stop catching himself in these situations.
This was a bad idea. You knew that.
So, why did you agree?
Despite your reservations, curiosity got the best of you. You would vehemently deny it if asked, but deep down, you pondered whether Suguru’s words held any truth about Satoru’s lingering feelings for you. It wasn’t out of pettiness, but rather a desire to confirm if Satoru was truly committed to Akemi. You knew this could potentially hurt you, but after enduring so much pain, you couldn’t imagine anything worse.
“Hey, you guys!”
“It’s nice of you to join us!”
“What’s up newlyweds?”
Upon joining the group at the fireplace, you were partly grateful that you weren’t exactly a fifth wheel in the situation. There were about ten or twelve people in total, with the earlier group still remaining in their seats. It just so happened that you were seated right across your ex-husband, who was too busy trying to keep Akemi warm and cozy.
“So, Y/N…” spoke a man from the group, who appeared to be Suguru’s colleague. “Are you single?”
The unexpected question caught you off guard, especially the tension it seemed to create, particularly with Satoru who sat stiffly next to Akemi. Even Shoko and Suguru seemed apologetic for their friend’s behavior, but you brushed it off, recognizing that he had probably indulged a bit too much with beer. He was harmless enough when sober.
“Don’t be asking questions like that,” Suguru intervened, tapping the back of his friend’s head in a playful scold. “That’s rude.”
The friend protested, still oblivious to the discomfort he had caused. “I was just asking! She’s attractive. I have the right to know.”
You forced a smile, accepting the can of beer he had offered. “Thanks, but I—”
“Even if she’s single, she’s not interested in you,” Shoko chimed in, keeping a casual mien. She had to keep things cool, especially with an explosive Gojou around. You were just thankful that she didn’t exactly reveal the status of your relationship with Toji, and that she was doing her best to divert the attention away from you.
In this little scene, you caught a glimpse of Akemi tugging at Satoru’s arm, like she was uncomfortable with the conversation. Why? Did it trigger an insecurity within her? She couldn’t even return eye-contact, constantly avoiding your eyes and reacting to any conversation remotely related to you. But Satoru was there acting like a concerned boyfriend, whispering reassurance into her ear, and rubbing her knee in a comforting fashion.
“You two make a lovely couple,” remarked one of the girls, directing her compliment to Satoru and Akemi.“Weren’t you the girl who caught the bouquet? Looks like there might be another wedding on the horizon.”
“Oooh!”
“They’re an attractive couple, too.”
“You guys planning for any children?”
Just like Bora Bora. A bitter smile lingered on your face, but you decided not to look at Satoru anymore. He must be enjoying this.
Shoko leaned in and placed an arm around you to whisper her apologies. “I’m sorry, Y/N. This was a bad idea.”
“It’s okay,” you assured, not wanting to ruin the moment. “I’ll leave after I finish my beer so it won’t be awkward.”
As the night wore on, conversation flowed easily at first, with everyone exchanging stories and laughter, and eventually more beers and liquor were passed around. Shoko and Suguru were lost in the glow of newlywed bliss, while you found yourself increasingly uneasy as memories of the past mingled with the present.
Satoru’s presence beside Akemi was a constant reminder of your failed marriage, and you struggled to suppress the weakness in your chest that threatened to surface. They held hands and watched the fire together, her head resting on his shoulder, his lips on top of her head. She was trying to voice out a specific concern to him, and he was sweetly listening to her. Did they even realize the ex-wife was in the same area with them? It was insensitive. You never knew Satoru could be this insensitive around you, no matter what his reasons were, his romantic gestures towards her was a clear slap to your face. And he succeeded, because you would be foolish not to admit that it broke your heart in half to witness him choosing another woman over you.
Again, Satoru. Here we go again. You tried to stop the pounding on your chest. Here we fucking are the second time around.
Desperate to ease the tension, Shoko and Suguru attempted to steer the conversation toward lighter topics, but their efforts only served to highlight the underlying tension in the air. You forced a smile and nodded along with the conversation, but inside, your heart was heavy with unresolved emotions.
And then someone had to bring up that stupid truth or dare game.
“Satoru-kun, I dare you to kiss the prettiest woman in this group.”
“Whoo! Do it! Do it! Do it!”
Satoru was initially hesitant as he clearly found himself at a crossroads. He had two options here. Should he risk hurting Akemi by refusing to kiss her? Or should he risk hurting you by kissing another woman in front of you?
The clear winner was Akemi, because as soon as Gojou pressed his lips onto hers, you were already walking out of there. You had already excused yourself from the group, your footsteps as heavy as your heart. And unbeknownst to you, Satoru watched you go with a flicker of remorse in his eyes, but it was too late for apologies or second chances. The fire continued to crackle and pop as you left, its flames casting long shadows across the empty space where you had sat.
It was game over. Satoru had won his game.
— —
Satoru was puzzled by your behavior since the wedding. You seemed determined to avoid him, which made sense with Akemi constantly by his side, but there was also an air of desperation to your avoidance. What baffled him even more was the jealousy you exhibited, as if you weren’t involved with another man, to the point where you even flew to another country just to spend more time with him.
Like you said, you two were no longer married. It was about time you moved on. Yet, how come you were acting heartbroken over seeing Satoru with another woman?
Did you really think leaving the fire pit so abruptly had gone unnoticed?
Did you really think he had taken his eyes off you?
If not for Akemi telling him that she was having pelvic cramps, Gojou would have run off to follow you the minute you left the fire pit. Clearly, you still had an issue seeing him with another girl and he wanted you to voice it out. But if there was anything he learned during your time together, you would never be the first one to admit that you were jealous. Heck, didn’t you even allow him to bring Sera to Bora Bora that one time?
Look, he didn’t want to hurt you all over again. And if you had walked up to him and called him an asshole for having Akemi around, he would even agree with you. But it was your decision to choose Toji, it was your request for Satoru to find someone else, so why did it seem like you were suddenly changing your mind?
“I’m sorry for being a party pooper,” Akemi groaned in discomfort as Gojou helped her back to their cabin. He quickly refocused on their conversation, reminding himself not to dwell on thoughts of you when Akemi needed his attention—it wouldn’t be fair to her. She was suffering from a terrible illness that he wouldn’t wish upon anyone and he had to be her rock. “It’s been hurting quite a bit lately. I really should start with my treatment.”
Once inside their room, he swiftly settled her into bed. “Where does it hurt?” He applied a gentle touch to her pelvic bone, massaging the area to alleviate her discomfort. “Here?”
“Mhm. Thank you,” she lightly spoke, her soft hand caressing his cheek. “I’ll be fine.”
“You look really pale, though. I’m worried,” he remarked, sympathizing with her. Her complexion betrayed the pain she was holding back, though she likely hesitated to admit she wanted to go home and rest. “Do you wanna go home? Even if it’s in the middle of the night, I can have my driver pick us up.”
She shook her head quickly. “No, no. Please, I'll be fine. You won't get to see Shoko and Suguru for a while once they’re on their honeymoon, so I want you to spend time with them here.”
“You sure? But you always come first.”
“I’ll be okay.”
As Satoru continued to massage the area where Akemi felt pain, his thoughts inevitably drifted to you. He recalled the time when you were pregnant with Sachiro, experiencing frequent lower abdominal pain as your body adjusted to the baby. Each night, Satoru stayed up, gently rubbing your belly until you drifted off to sleep. It was one of his happiest memories during your marriage—the domestic bliss of being your husband and the memory of him caring for his wife. He wasn’t sure if he was missing it, or if he was just recalling a past memory, but looking at Akemi, Satoru wondered if he was prepared to have all that again but with another woman.
He couldn’t give himself an answer.
“I’m such a terrible person.”
He should be telling himself that, but it was Akemi who said those words out loud as her brown doe-eyes stared at him solemnly, an expression that reflected guilt and remorse in equal measure.
“How come?” Satoru’s voice was barely above a whisper as he asked, gently tucking the sheets around her while perching on the edge of the bed.
Her smile held a touch of sorrow, yet there was a glimmer of relief in her eyes. “I feel like I’ve failed Y/N. She treated me like family, like a sister, and now I can’t even face her properly. I’m just terrified, you know? I don’t want to keep letting her down. I never meant to cause her pain.”
For a moment, Gojou fell silent at her admission. “It’s all my fault. You two never would have been in this position if it wasn’t for me.”
“Absolutely not,” Akemi persisted before leaning in to plant a tender kiss on his cheek. “Tonight, you’ve shown me that you’ve truly moved on from her. I was starting to worry, afraid that I could never fill the space she held in your heart. But since the wedding, you’ve never sidelined me or made me feel like an afterthought. You’ve never made me feel like second best. You’ve always prioritized me. I understand it’s hard seeing your ex-wife, but I appreciate your efforts more than you know. You make me feel incredibly special.”
Satoru swallowed hard. The mention of your name sent a pang of guilt coursing through his chest. He knew he had hurt Akemi with his lingering attachment to his past and his inability to fully let go of the woman who had once held his heart in her hands. He wanted to agree with Akemi, to reassure her that he had chosen her, but the truth remained elusive, buried beneath layers of denial and self-deception. He even had to close his eyes for a minute, unable to meet her gaze as a tumult of conflicting emotions swirled within him. He wanted to tell her the truth, to confess the depth of his feelings for his ex-wife, but the words were caught in his throat.
In that moment, Satoru felt more lost and alone than ever before, trapped in a web of his own making, and unable to confront the truth behind his true feelings. Moved on? Had he truly moved on from you, or had he simply buried his feelings beneath a facade of indifference?
“You should rest your eyes,” was the only thing he could tell her, planting a kiss on her forehead before he had turned off the lights.
With the clock ticking past 11 o’clock and their recent conversation still echoing in his mind, Satoru felt an urgent need for clarity. He knew he had to confront his thoughts alone. So, without disturbing Akemi’s peaceful slumber, he quietly slipped out of the cabin, seeking solace in the night air. Immediately, as he got out, he was met with the apologetic eyes of his best friend.
“Hey,” Satoru greeted, confused by the urgency in Suguru’s expression. “What’s up?”
Suguru took a deep breath before he rubbed the back of his head. “There’s something I ought to tell you.”
— —
You had been standing at the edge of the lake for a while now, the cool night air sending shivers down your spine as you gazed out at the shimmering expanse of water before you. The moon hung low in the sky, casting a silvery glow over the tranquil scene, its soft light dancing on the surface of the lake like a thousand tiny stars.
The temptation to dive into the dark waters below tugged at your heart like a siren’s song, beckoning you to leave behind the pain and sorrow that had plagued you for so long. You longed to feel the icy embrace of the lake envelop you, to lose yourself in its depths and wash away the memories that haunted you every waking moment.
Is this how it feels like to finally let go?
As you stood on the shore, your toes just inches from the water’s edge, a wave of despair then washed over you, threatening to pull you under like the undertow of a riptide. You thought of Sachiro, your sweet, innocent son, asleep in his bed back in Tokyo, his laughter and smiles serving as an antidote to the pain in your heart.
And then him…
Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes as you thought of Satoru. Despite the pain he had caused you, it was impossible not to yearn for him still, because his memory was a ghost that haunted you in every waking moment. But you knew that you couldn’t continue to live in the shadow of your past marriage. You had to escape being trapped in a cycle of longing and regret. You owed it to Sachiro to be strong, to find the courage to let go of the man who had once been your everything.
With your empty gaze, the calm lake shimmered in the moonlight like a blanket of liquid silver. You had come to the lake seeking solace, seeking escape from the unbearable pain that gnawed at your heart like a relentless tide. But as tears left your eyes, your emotions threatened to drown you in a sea of despair.
Without hesitation, you dropped your shawl to the side, shedding yourself off of the cloth with a sense of reckless abandon. The fright of swimming in open water, especially at night, could have you passed out in a matter of seconds, but you paid it no mind as you waded into the water.
Is this how it feels to finally give up?
The lake embraced you like an old friend, enfolding you in its cool embrace as you swam out into the darkness. Each stroke brought you closer to the center of the lake, closer to the heart of your pain, and yet you felt strangely at peace, as if the water itself held the key to your salvation. You took time floating on your back, staring up at the stars that glittered like diamonds in the night sky, you felt a sense of clarity wash over you. You knew that your love for Satoru was a burden you could no longer bear.
But more than that, you knew that you couldn’t let your own pain dictate the course of your son’s life. Sachiro deserved better than a mother consumed by sorrow, better than a life overshadowed by the ghosts of the past.
With a deep breath, you let go of the pain that had held you captive for so long. You submerged yourself into the depths of the lake, watching as the night sky vanished beneath the surface like a wisp of smoke in the wind.
In that moment, you felt a sense of freedom unlike anything you had ever known. You just had to stay still. You had to keep yourself underwater, hold your breath until you no longer needed it, and…
And…
You struggled to breathe, your mind consumed in panic telling you that you would die if you had kept yourself submerged for another minute, but you were adamant on staying there. You fought battles in your own mind, despite your body fighting back to keep you alive.
At least soon, you would finally meet your mom again.
“...”
“......”
“....Y/N!”
“.......Y/N!”
Feeling your vision blur and your limbs growing limp, you surrendered to the natural sway of the water. Bubbles escaped from your nose, your mouth tightly sealed shut. And the next thing you knew, you were back on the water surface, drawing breath like a fish out of the water. You could feel someone tugging at your arm, could feel the presence of another person dragging you out of the water, his arms pulling you into an embrace.
“Y/N! What the hell are you thinking?!”
You sobbed uncontrollably, your heartache pouring out as Satoru cradled you in his arms, his white hair damp from his efforts to rescue you from the water. How and when did he arrive? Your mind couldn’t process the details amidst the turmoil. All you could do was surrender to the flood of tears, feeling paralyzed from head to toe as you cried into his embrace.
Is this another dream?
Is this another hallucination?
You released a bitter laugh. Please. You closed your eyes, laughing and crying like a mad person. Please stop the pain.
“Y/N, please,” his whispers were tender, yet tinged with a sorrow that amplified your heartache. “What about Sachiro?” He, too, shed his own tears, his ocean-blue eyes shimmering in the moonlight as they filled with tears, his voice breaking. “What about me?”
Your face was pressed against his chest, anguish coursing through you, feeling as if your very soul was being torn asunder. “Th-That’s the... the same thing... I’ve been asking myself,” you managed between sobs, struggling to draw a steady breath. “I’m... I’m always th-thinking about other people... and never myself.”
He fell silent, his response lost in the weight of your words, perhaps laden with guilt or his own sorrow. But his presence there, holding you close, as if he still harbored love for you, tore another piece from your already battered heart. He shouldn’t be here. He should have been with Akemi. He should be anywhere but near you. With a surge of adrenaline, you began to push him away, propelling yourself through the water, racing toward the shore despite the weakness in your limbs. Satoru called out your name, his voice a desperate plea, as he followed after you, his movements slower but filled with urgency.
“Stop!” Your voice rose, echoing against the night as you stood on the shore, water cascading from your body in sync with the tears streaming down your face. “L-Leave me alone... Please. Why are you here?”
You knew Satoru well enough to understand what had driven him to chase after you. Perhaps he had grown concerned, either from noticing your absence or from someone informing him of your uncharacteristic nighttime swim. His actions were undoubtedly unusual; he knew all too well of your fear of open water, prompting him to leap into action to rescue you.
But you didn’t need him to be here. You didn’t need him anywhere. He wasn’t yours anymore.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” he asked, his voice carrying the weight of confusion and concern, his steps cautious as he approached you. He looked at you with tears in his eyes, his expression vulnerable and pleading, like a child seeking comfort, desperately hoping to be understood, to be heard. “You’re not with Toji anymore.”
“Why should I?” You struggled to compose yourself, wiping away the tears that blurred your vision. “It doesn’t matter—”
“It fucking matters, Y/N!”
“It shouldn’t matter!” Your voice cracked with emotion, your heart pounding painfully against your ribs. “Why should it matter, huh?”
“Because I love you!” His words echoed through the night, raw with emotion that had never been confronted until now. “Because I can’t fucking get over you. Because I’m a fool for you!”
You pushed him away, a surge of anger and hurt rising within you. “H-How dare you,” you choked out, your fists trembling as you struck his chest. “How dare you say that to me when you’re with someone else! You n-never truly loved me, Satoru. Y-You never did!”
“You wanted me to find someone new, Y/N,” his voice cracked with emotion, pained by his own words, “I just did what you asked me to do, even if that wasn’t what I truly wanted.”
You vehemently denied his assertion in your mind, shaking your head in refusal. “Stop saying that. Just stop. Please.”
He already had his grip on your hand, pulling you closer. “Y/N—”
You jerked your hand away sharply, but then a wave of despair washed over you. “Every time I see you with her, I convince myself that I’m fine with it, that this is what I wanted, what I chose.” Tears welled up in your eyes as you recalled every heartbreak. “I tell myself that I deserve it, that you deserve to be with someone who can make you happier. But then I remember our past…” You paused, closing your eyes to stem the tears. “And then I compare it to your relationship with her now. I can’t help but wonder, why didn’t I receive that kind of love and respect from the beginning? Why did it take me nearly drowning in an ocean for you to realize and try to make things right three years ago?”
His grip on your hand tightened, as if he wanted to hold onto you and never let go, as if he wanted to reassure you with his touch that he was there, listening, understanding, feeling every word you uttered.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered, his voice barely audible amidst the crashing waves and the heavy weight of your emotions. “I’m sorry for everything I did wrong, for every moment I failed to show you the love and respect you deserved, Y/N.”
You hated it. You hated hearing his words now, because it was three years all too late. You had already gone through so much suffering, so much anguish that you didn’t deserve, just because you wanted a happy marriage. Just because you wanted to love and be loved. By him. By the person you married.
“It d-doesn’t change anything,” you murmured, your voice breaking with sorrow. “I can’t undo the pain, the heartache. I can’t erase the memories.”
“I know,” he replied softly, his eyes filled with remorse. “But let’s try again. Let me try again, Y/N. Please.”
You wanted to believe him, to believe that he meant every word, that he was sincere in his intentions. But the wounds of the past were still fresh, and the memories of betrayal were still lingering in your mind.
“You know what hurts me more?” you asked, “It’s the fact that you didn’t lose your memories of me, but you still ended up falling for her,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper.
Satoru’s silence felt like a confirmation to you. Perhaps he had indeed fallen in love with Akemi, and you were the obstacle standing in the way of his complete commitment to her. You were just a relic of his past, a piece that he needed to discard in order to embrace his future with Akemi. It seemed that fate had already decided that you and Satoru would never find happiness together, and this should serve as nothing more than a closure.
But god be damned, it was tearing you apart.
You tugged at the necklace around your neck, the pendant bearing half of his heart, and in your trembling hand, you ripped it off. As painful as it was, your next action was to hurl it into the darkness of the lake, discarding the last remnant that linked him to you, watching as it disappeared beneath the surface of the lake with a soft splash.
You know the difference between us, Satoru? You thought silently. I dove into the ocean just to find our wedding ring, but you would never plunge into that lake to retrieve that necklace.
With determined steps, you turned away before he could react, walking away from that place, walking away from him. You resolved that this would be your final encounter with Satoru Gojou in your lifetime, because there was no need for him in your life, just as he no longer needed you in his. You two would remain in the past, a memory best left behind.
This was you letting him go.
But then, just as you were about to walk away, you heard a faint noise from the darkness behind you—a splash, followed by the sound of another frantic splashing.
Your heart pounded heavily in your chest. You turned back toward the lake, your eyes widening in shock as you saw Satoru thrashing in the water, his arms flailing as he searched desperately for the necklace you had thrown away.
“Satoru, you idiot!” you cried out, your voice filled with disbelief and concern and pain and overwhelming heartache. Without a second thought, you ran back to the cold water, your feet sinking into the soft sand as you waded into the lake. “Satoru, what are you doing?!” you called out again, your heart racing as you reached out to him, your fingers brushing against his arm as he struggled to stay afloat.
“I have to find it,” Satoru gasped, his voice strained with exertion. “I have to find the necklace you threw.”
Your breath caught in your throat as you looked into his eyes, seeing the desperation and determination that burned within them. You knew then that you couldn’t let him risk his life for a piece of jewelry, no matter how sentimental it may be.
“Satoru, please,” you pleaded, your voice trembling with emotion. “It’s not worth it. Let it go—”
But Satoru shook his head, his gaze fixed on the dark waters below. “I have to find it," he insisted, his eyes tearful. “It’s my heart. I gave it to you.”
I hate you. I hate you. I hate you.
The tension between you crackled like electricity in the air. In that moment, all of your walls came crashing down, your heart laid bare before the man you had once loved with all your soul.
With tears streaming down your cheeks, you reached out and pulled Satoru into your arms, your lips meeting his in a desperate, longing kiss. It was a kiss filled with years of pent-up emotion, a bittersweet union of love and pain that left you both breathless and raw. Your lips moved together in a tender dance, each kiss a silent plea for forgiveness, for understanding, for a second chance at the love you had lost. It was a kiss that spoke of regrets and what-ifs, of dreams left unfulfilled and promises broken.
For years, you had been strangers, your hearts closed off to each other in an attempt to shield yourselves from the pain of your past. But in that moment, as you clung to each other in the darkness, you couldn’t deny the truth that still lingered between you—that your love for each other had never truly died.
As you finally pulled apart, gasping for air, you looked into Satoru’s eyes, seeing the depth of his pain mirrored in your own. “I hate you,” you whispered, your voice laced with grief and surrender, "so much."
Satoru reached out and brushed a tear from your cheek, his touch gentle and tender. “I hate me, too,” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion, his eyes shining with guilt, “for hurting you.”
You couldn’t erase the past, nor could you predict the future. But as you stood together in the middle of the lake, your hearts entwined once more, you found solace in the simple act of being together, of sharing your pain and your love in the darkness of the night. And as you held each other tight, the gravity of your connection pulled you to kiss him again.
Once more, you met his lips in a deeper kiss. His lips moved in perfect sync with yours, and the taste of his tongue was met with the familiarity you two shared. It was as if your bodies were moving on its own, and you allowed it to dictate whatever action it desired. Forget everything for now, was all you could think of in your head. In your mind, it was all Satoru. It was the man you love. The man you married. The man you share a child with.
You were too engrossed with the feeling of his lips that you didn’t even realize he had your legs wrapped around his waist. And with your arms around his neck, you could feel him lift you up, never breaking the kiss as he carried you out of the lake. With each step he took, your kiss only got deeper and deeper. You had never felt such intensity throughout your marriage, and you were intoxicated by the feeling of kissing him again.
Of feeling his lips around your jawline. Your neck. Your chest. You were gasping on his mouth, had his lips completely enveloped with yours, not realizing you were stumbling inside your cabin, desperate to find somewhere to lay on.
And before you knew it, the night had played way differently than expected.
Both your wet clothes were on the floor in a tangle of fabric, forgotten in the heat of your passion. And now, with your bare body on top of him. His arms caressed the smooth skin of your back, his lips feathering kisses along your bust. As you moved your hips slowly, you couldn’t stop the moan that escaped your lips. Satoru’s member was warm inside you. Your bodies were tingling from the intensity of your lovemaking in the dimly lit room. And when you pulled away, your eyes were locked in a silent exchange of yearning.
Without a word, Satoru reached out and gently cupped your breast, his touch sending electricity down your spine. You leaned into his touch, your breath coming in shallow gasps as you felt the heat of his body pressing against yours.
Your lips met once more, a tender exploration of each other’s mouths, and he was taking that chance to shift the position you were in. Slowly, almost hesitantly, he began to enter you again. You were whimpering under him, melting into his passionate movements. You have had sex with Satoru multiple times before, but it was never this emotional. It was never this passionate. You could feel the difference with the way he kissed you, with the way he looked at you, with the way he touched you.
“S-Satoru—!”
“Mmm… I missed you so fucking much, Y/N.”
And then, finally, you came together in a flurry of hands and lips and skin, your bodies melding into one as you gave yourselves over to the exquisite pleasure of your lovemaking.
At that exact moment, as you moved together in perfect harmony, you knew that you were home.
— —
When Akemi woke up, she could tell something felt wrong.
It didn’t help that Satoru was not by her side as she opened her eyes, blinded by the sunlight that peeked through the window. Was he out for a morning run? Or perhaps he was indulging in a leisurely bath? She entertained the idea of joining him, wanting to express her gratitude for his care and support.
Her heart swelled with love for him, despite all the risks and uncertainties. He was her rock, her confidant, her everything. In him, she found solace and strength, and she couldn’t imagine her life without him. Despite the troubles of his past, she felt blessed to have crossed paths with him. She longed for the kind of deep connection and lasting commitment that she saw in others’ marriages, a dream she harbored for her own future. And in Satoru, she saw the perfect partner to share that dream with, to build a family and a life together that she had always yearned for.
Akemi wasn’t ashamed by how smitten she was with him. In fact, she was beginning to have more confidence in her decision to pursue a relationship with him. She just hoped you would understand, that you would eventually let go of the grudge in your heart. At the end of the day, she wasn’t trying to hurt you. She was only trying to pursue her happiness.
And the exact source of her happiness was someone she endeavored to find that morning. She put on a robe and searched every room in the cabin, calling out for his name, wondering why she couldn’t hear his voice.
With no response forthcoming, Akemi decided to exit the cabin in search of Satoru. Assuming he had likely been with Suguru all night, she scanned the vicinity, expecting to spot his tall, white-haired figure. Yet, after several minutes of fruitless searching, she couldn’t find him and instead, encountered a hotel staff member. That was when she decided to finally inquire about his whereabouts.
“Excuse me,” she began, halting the staff member’s stride, “Have you seen my boyfriend? He’s tall, with white hair and blue eyes.”
“Ah, Mr. Gojou?” the hotel staff responded, scratching her head as realization dawned. She then gestured toward the last place Akemi wished him to be. “Um, I think he’s in there.”
Akemi’s heart raced as if she had seen a ghost. Her complexion drained of color, her heart pounding in her chest as she realized that the cabin she had been directed to was yours. And in a twist of fate, just as she stood there in shock, the man she loved emerged from the cabin, equally wide-eyed.
“‘Kemi…” he began, frozen in place, “Let’s talk first—”
But she cut him off with a scoff. Her hands trembled with a tumult of emotions—anger, pain, and betrayal—threatening to overwhelm her. She was on the verge of collapse, her mind reeling with questions. Was he going to explain his actions? No, there was only one question that demanded an answer.
“Did you… did you do it?” she asked through gritted teeth, her voice laced with accusation.
Satoru didn’t need to respond. As Akemi pushed the door open, her worst fears were confirmed as she saw you standing behind him, draped in nothing but a blanket. Tears welled in her eyes, and before she could think, her body reacted, her hand connecting with Gojou’s cheek in a resounding slap.
“You never changed!” she cried out, her voice cracking with anguish. “You’re still a cheater!”
Satoru struggled to deflect each fist she hurled at him, but her rage and despair overwhelmed any attempt to reason with her. She was consumed by her pain and the looming betrayal she anticipated, unable to comprehend that her worst fears were coming true before her eyes.
“‘Kemi, please,” Satoru pleaded in vain.
“...Akemi, I'm sorry,” you interjected, your voice heavy with remorse as you wiped your tears. “It’s not his fault. It’s mine.”
Upon hearing your words, Akemi erupted. She disregarded your friendship, cast aside your shared memories, and denied that she had ever considered you a friend. Her tear-filled eyes bore into you with accusation. “Y-You,” she began, her voice choking with sobs, “You’re a hypocrite, Y/N!”
You remained silent, absorbing her words.
Akemi pressed on with her onslaught. “You’re a hypocrite! You’ve become the person you despised the most when you were married,” she accused, recalling the anguish you endured during Gojou’s affair. “You’re no better than Sera! And that’s why you’re miserable, and you’ll forever be miserable! If this is your way of getting back at me,” she paused, betrayed by the anguish in her voice, “Then jokes on you, because Satoru will never be faithful to you. He’ll keep cheating on you, just like he did now with me! You two belong in that cycle!”
She fled before she could hear your response, but Satoru’s whispered apology lingered in the air, unclear of who its intended recipient was. At that moment, she didn’t care anymore. She raced back to her cabin, tears streaming down her face as she hastily packed her belongings.
She moved mechanically, tossing her belongings into her luggage while grappling with the overwhelming pain of his infidelity. Try as she might to focus on the task at hand, her tears flowed freely, and she surrendered to her grief, cradling her face in her hands.
Amidst her anguish, she couldn’t ignore the escalating pain in her pelvic region, a physical echo of the agony in her heart. Each sob seemed to intensify both sensations, leaving her feeling utterly shattered.
With that confrontation, Satoru faced a pivotal choice: to stay with you or to pursue Akemi.
While Akemi had anticipated that he might choose you, she was taken aback when she swung the door open,
bags in hand,
only to find Satoru Gojou standing on her doorstep.
#series: sincerely yours#gojo satoru x reader#gojou satoru x reader#gojo satoru x you#gojo x reader#jjk x reader#gojo angst#jjk x you
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Portal hlvrai crossover....au......
SOME OF MY THOUGHTS AND IDEAS are under the cut!!
1) I always found it really funny how aperture has this insane amount of "what to do in case of an alien invasion" recordings. I mean...they had to record them BEFORE the actual invasion started right? They were completely delusional and ended up right. My idea was, that in this wild mix/ swap of Aperture and Black mesa, Black mesa decided to build a security system ai - Benrey. First to keep all the important stuff away from contenders (hence his obsession with identity verification), and then they upgraded the guy to keep the laboratory intact if some crazy alien shit starts to happen. And it did. Now, years in the future, recently awakened from his stasis Gordon has to make his way out of the Laboratory with Benrey on his tail. At first he helps him, but ..well...Gordon doesn't have his id and breaks company property in his attempts to escape so their "friendship" doesn't last long.
2) I also had an idea of making Gman a management core of the lab. He hires personal, keeps everything organised and technically runs the place. When everything went down he just put everyone to sleep to keep the company assets intact. Eventually he broke down, which transferred most of the control functions to Benrey and killed most of the people that were put in the stasis
3) Tommy is a reserve version of the management core. Gman was supposed to be replaced by him if anything went wrong with him, but...well...there were no conscious scientists to do that. To escape from the lab Gordon needs to transfer control of the lab from Benrey to Tommy.
4) They are followed by Coomer and Bubby, who were initially made as testing androids, but now think about themselves as scientists
5) my friend (@/mrrrcesare !!!!) and I joked about Tommy being an orphan that was raised by the turrets. You can call him...Tommy Turretta.... ANYWAYS, as he is a reserve piece of a really important technology, Black mesa saw fit to give him turret guns and fill him with bullets, so despite him not having any hands in this au, he still has a trigger finger
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suitors and sutures
anthony bridgerton x reader
reader is named the diamond of the season but despite this, she finds the men of the ton avoiding her rather than courting her.
tw: none
Y/N marveled at the grand ballroom adorned with crystal chandeliers that sparkled as they caught the light. Her heart racing with nerves and excitement as she entered to make her debut. This moment would define her prospects — her entire future. She recalled everything she’d been taught for this moment, every movement she made exuding grace and poise. Y/N wore only the finest, her ivory gown embellished with dainty beading, her hair done up in an intricate updo with curls hanging out to frame her delicate face. She looked and felt like a princess.
She took slow, steady steps towards the throne. Queen Charlotte sat before her, trained on her every move as she approached, scrutinizing the girl before her. She stood before the Queen, a pleasant smile on her face as she curtsied — a movement marked by grace, as though she were floating. She rose after a heartbeat, looking up at the Queen in reverence. The Queen regarded her for a moment before leaning forward and with the gentlest of touches, held Y/N’s chin. She placed a kiss on her forehead, Y/N’s heart nearly burst. The Queen sat back, nodding as she declared Y/N to be the diamond of the season. She curtsied once more, thanking the Queen for bestowing her with such a title. When her presentation had come to an end, Y/N returned to her place beside her parents who gave her at least two dozen kisses, proud of their daughter for catching the eye of the Queen.
“Y/N!” A hushed voice came from her left – she looked for the source of the sound and found Francesca Bridgerton leaning behind her brothers to catch her best friend’s attention. Y/N leaned behind her parents to return her excitement.
“Francesca!”
“You’re the diamond! My best friend is the diamond! I knew only you could impress the Queen” She exclaimed, her face bright with excitement.
“I’m not certain I believe it,” she replied. It was true she couldn’t quite believe that her weeks of training for this moment had paid off.
“Hush, you two. There are still debutantes making their entrances,” Y/N rolled her eyes at the sound of the eldest Bridgerton chastising them. Francesca giggled at her friend’s blatant disregard for Anthony’s warning but swatted a hand at her to hush before Anthony scolded them once more.
Y/N lived directly across from the Bridgertons and thus, she grew up alongside the rather large family. Where Y/N was all mischief and confidence, Francesca was timid and quiet – as a child, Y/N had been drawn towards Francesca, the yin to her yang. They’d been inseparable since then. But with Francesca came an abundance of brothers and sisters who she’d grown comfortable with over the years – all except for the eldest, Anthony. Constantly reprimanding his siblings – and Y/N – for their behavior, always being the end to their fun. Though she had to admit, Y/N found great joy in taunting and teasing the grumpy viscount, making him lose his patience and composure was one of her favorite pastimes.
“Be mindful of who you are speaking to, Lord Bridgerton, I am the diamond of the season after all,” she retorted.
He gave her a pointed look which she returned, “it’s far too easy to rile you up, my lord,” she mocked. Next to Anthony stood Benedict, amused at their little spat.
“How you managed to become the diamond is beyond me,” he shook his head in annoyance.
She giggled but before she could tease him any further, her mother pulled her arm, motioning for her to face forward.
“Dearest, now that you are the diamond, you must be mindful of your behavior – especially with the Bridgertons,” she said, insinuating that she needed to be more ladylike with the Bridgerton boys.
“Of course mother,” she replied with a sigh.
✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*
“May I have this dance, Miss L/N?” She nodded graciously, accepting the man’s offer despite her feet begging her to take a seat. She’d danced with at least a dozen earls and barons and a few viscounts here and there – all of them vying for her attention, trying to impress her so that she might be receptive to their courtship.
As they danced across the ballroom, the man droned on about his accomplishments – she’d periodically offered nods and smiles to appear engaged but truth be told all she could focus on was the pain in her poor feet. She looked around the room, trying to find something more interesting to think about when her eyes clashed with Anthony’s. He was already staring at her when she found him, his face set in a scowl.
Someone’s grumpy tonight, she thought.
“My lady?” The man snapped her out of her thoughts.
“Pardon?”
“Do you not think it is the most riveting exercise – chess?” He repeated his question.
She had to fight the urge to roll her eyes, had he been droning on about chess this entire time?
“Yes, of course. My apologies, all of this dancing has made me awfully parched,” she put on her most damsel-in-distress demeanor.
“I shall retrieve a lemonade immediately, my lady.”
Finally, she sighed, making her way towards the viscount pouting in the corner.
“Has someone insulted you tonight or is your face just permanently set in a scowl?”
He rolled his eyes, “You abandoned your dance partner.”
“Would you believe me if I said he’d been giving a lecture on chess the entire time?”
He scoffed a laugh, amused at the torture she had to endure. She leaned against the wall next to him, facing the dance floor. She saw the man looking for her in the crowd, two lemonades in hand as promised.
She turned to Anthony and threw him a dazzling smile, “Would you be so kind as to dance with me?”
He looked down at her, not buying her flirtatious act. From the corner of her eyes, she saw the chess man making his way toward her.
“Please, have mercy Viscount Bridgerton,” she said more sincerely.
He looked up for a moment, muttering a curse under his breath before taking her hand with a sigh. She smiled, triumphant.
“Miss L/N?” Chess man said.
“Apologies Donovan, I shall be taking this next dance with Miss L/N,” Anthony replied before she could say anything. He didn’t wait for a response as he pulled her to the dance floor.
“My hero,” she said, exaggerating her relief. He tried not to smile at her antics.
He led them across the dance floor, expertly guiding her through as he held her gaze. She was impressed by his ballroom skills – though she couldn’t say she was surprised, the grouch of a viscount had always been the type of person to excel in anything and everything he did. They danced quietly, a relief for Y/N after having to endure hours of talking. The two of them were content, comfortable to dance without exchanging meaningless pleasantries or droning on about their achievements. When the music slowed, signaling the end of the night, he bowed, she returned the gesture with a curtsy and with that, she bid the viscount goodbye.
✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*
Warm rays of sunlight nudged Y/N awake. Her mind instantly recalled her dance with Anthony last night. She sat up, suddenly remembering that there must be dozens of suitors calling on her right now.
Shit. She scrambled out of bed, calling on her maids to come and help her find the appropriate dress for the morning. She quickly did her hair, pinched her cheeks to bring some color back into her face, and rushed downstairs to the drawing room. There sat her mother – alone?
“Mother? Were there no callers?”
Her mother set down her teacup on the table in front of her, “perhaps it's simply too early, I’m sure there will be callers soon,” she replied.
She sat beside her mother, confused. She recalled Daphne Bridgerton’s experience with being the diamond. She had suitors instantaneously, regardless of the time of day. The maid brought her breakfast, setting it down on the table but Y/N found herself lacking an appetite. Her aching feet were a reminder of the many men who took a vehement interest in her the night before – where had they all gone?
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“Perhaps it was simply too early in the day?” Francesca echoed her mother’s sentiments as they walked arm in arm around the park. The two oldest Bridgerton brothers trailed behind them, acting as chaperones (primarily for Francesca while Y/N merely intruded).
“Are you men not up at ungodly hours in the morning to tend to whatever business it is you have?” She called out to the two behind her.
“I certainly am not,” Benedict replied, “and you, brother?”
“Any respectable man would be up bright and early. I should think your suitors from last night are all lousy men you would not want courting you anyway, Miss L/N,” Anthony replied gruffly.
She rolled her eyes at his remark, “Do vampires require sleep?” She asked no one in particular (though she had hoped Anthony would understand the insult).
“Vampires cannot roam freely in the daylight,” Anthony replied. She smiled, satisfied.
Francesca and Benedict laughed, “I do hope whatever poor fellow does end up courting you has thick skin and an abundance of patience,” Benedict said.
“I think you should be a tad bit nicer, Y/N. Men have unfortunately fragile egos,” Francesca replied, leaning in closer to whisper the last part.
“Heard that,” the two men behind them said in unison.
That night as Y/N lay in bed, she raked over her conversation with the Bridgertons. Perhaps her behavior had scared away her potential suitors. She knew she could be a bit brash – not always able to hold her tongue or control her facial expressions but as Benedict said, she simply needed a man who could handle her colorful personality.
✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*
Dearest Reader,
It appears our revered diamond may not dazzle as brightly as Her Majesty had envisioned. Whispers abound that Miss Y/N L/N finds herself unable to secure a suitor. Despite her dances and promenades with many a gentlemen, a courtship remains elusive – let alone a match. Was it an error on the Queen's part to name Miss L/N as the diamond of the season? Or perhaps, dare I say, is she not quite equal to the challenge?
Yours Truly,
Lady Whistledown
Tears stung Y/N’s eyes as she read the excerpt of Lady Whistledown’s paper. It’d been weeks since the start of the season and she was still unable to keep a man interested long enough for him to court her. She took Francesca’s advice and started being kinder, showed more enthusiasm the interests of whomever was conversing with her but it was all in vain – for the next day they were nowhere to be found.
She took deep breaths to steady herself as she prepared for yet another ball, no doubt the Queen would be watching her closely trying to determine the reason for her diamond’s failure. She had not only embarrassed herself and her family this season but she risked embarrassing the Queen as well. The thought made her stomach churn with anxiety but she pushed them away, determined to redeem herself tonight.
Y/N entered Lady Danbury’s ballroom with her parents, eyes instantly seeking out Francesca for support. Instead, she found another familiar face standing before her, hand out in front of him asking for a dance.
“Good evening, Mr. and Mrs. L/N,” Anthony nodded to her parents, “may I steal Miss L/N for the first dance?”
They let her go with an enthusiastic nod as Y/N took Anthony’s hand. She muttered a ‘thank you’ to Anthony as they made their way to the dance floor. She knew she had to stay busy to avoid the Queen’s ire. As they made their way to the dance floor, she noticed one of the men who had walked with her days ago sporting a rather painful-looking black eye. Ouch. What had he done to earn that? She wondered.
“Lady Whistledown was quite harsh,” He broke her out of her thoughts as they started dancing.
“Perhaps she was right,” her voice was quiet.
Anthony’s face contorted in disbelief, “If there’s anyone who can handle being diamond, it's you, Y/N. Lady Whistledown is merely looking for a way to undermine the Queen’s judgment.”
She looked up at him, surprised at his reassuring words. But it was not enough, she couldn’t help but wonder if she was simply unmarriageable.
“Perhaps Francesca was right, I should be more gentle, more kind, and gracious to the attentions of men,” she said.
Anthony scoffed, “Perhaps those half-wits shouldn’t be courting you at all.”
Y/N couldn’t hold back the laughter that escaped her – had he just called the other men half-wits?
“Then who should be courting me, Lord Bridgerton?” She looked at him with curiosity.
“Whoever shows up at your house, calling upon you at ungodly hours in the morning,” he replied, a small smirk gracing his lips.
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“Miss! You have a caller!”
Y/N groaned, lifting the duvet over her ears. One of the maids pulled back the curtains, the sudden burst of light making Y/N flinch.
“What is it, Celia?” She muttered to her maid, still half asleep.
“You have a caller, Miss! Your mother needs you to come downstairs straight away.”
She sat up, cursing the awful man who had decided now to call upon her. She threw off the duvet, begrudgingly leaving the cozy bed to get dressed.
She made her way down the stairs to find out who had so callously pulled her out of bed at this time. She could hear her mother from the hall, stalling him by talking about all of Y/N’s achievements and something about how happy she was that a longtime friend was courting Y/N.
Longtime friend?
She turned the corner, entering the drawing room when she stopped in her tracks. The sight of the familiar silhouette jolted her awake.
“Anthony?”
He turned, standing up with a smile.
“Y/N, mind your manners, that is no way to refer to Viscount Bridgerton!” Her mother called out.
“It’s quite alright, Mrs. L/N, we’ve long since passed the need for formalities, have we not?” He asked her.
She nodded, unable to find any words to construct a proper reply.
“May we have a moment, Mrs. L/N?”
“Of course!” Her mother scurried from the drawing room, leaving behind a maid as the chaperone.
Anthony motioned for her to sit as he sat down on the sofa. She took a seat in front of him.
“What’s all this?” She asked, still in shock.
“I believe I should begin by apologizing,” he said.
Her brows furrowed in confusion, “Whatever for?”
He exhaled, “What Lady Whistledown said,” he paused, “you had – or would have had many suitors calling upon you had I not interfered.”
She looked at him, still confused – perhaps even more so. He took her confusion as permission to go on.
“None of those men were decent nor respectable. Your behavior felt like a challenge towards them -- I overheard several of those half-wits making bets on who’d be able to,” he cleared his throat, “break your attitude.”
Y/N sat back, astonished by the sudden revelation. He brought a hand up to his chin, stroking it as if in thought. Her eyes fell to his knuckles, red as if he’d –.
Realization dawned on her.
“Did you – one of the men I talked to, he had a black eye at the ball last night! Anthony did you –,” Before she could finish, the look on his face answered gave her all the answer she needed. He looked smug, pleased with himself.
“He deserved it," he said as he sat back.
“Anthony! The poor man probably needed sutures!”
“I was not going to allow such things to be said about a lady in my presence!”
She laughed, “What then, you were protecting me from them?”
He nodded, “They were unworthy of you.”
“And you are?” She challenged.
“If you’ll have me,” he replied.
She watched him, still reeling from the fact that he’d punched another man for her. That he’d been keeping all of those men away from her. It made her stomach flutter. She knew of his fierce protectiveness through Francesca and Daphne but being on the receiving end of such gallant behavior – if there was a man who could handle her, it had to be Anthony with his quick wit and no-nonsense attitude that he threw out the window when it came to matching her in a spat. He fit her in every way, though it took her until now to realize it.
“How could I refuse my hero?”
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STWG prompt 2/6/24
prompt: coming out
pairing/character(s): steddie, Dustin, Lucas, Mike
. . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆
Eddie fucked up. Big time.
See, he's truly embraced his freak status at Hawkins High. Meaning he doesn't exactly shy away from his queerness. He doesn't confirm it, not for people he's not friends with. It's just useful. Being gay is the kind of 'freak' that makes the popular kids steer clear from him, just in case they, you know, catch the queer from him.
But with his fellow freaks? They know he's gay.
In fact, they know he has a boyfriend.
He never shares who said boyfriend is, or the fact that he used to be nicknamed The Hair, because Steve doesn't want anyone to know. He's.. private about his sexuality, to say the least. And Eddie gets it. Hawkins is in the middle of nowhere, it's not exactly gay-friendly like some parts of bigger cities. So his friends don't know who his boyfriend is.
They won't until well after Steve's come out to his own friends, which he hasn't said he's ready for yet. Eddie's letting him go at his own pace, he doesn't even bring it up to him. He doesn't want Steve to feel pressured. Steve doesn't have a Wayne there to support him through everything, after all.
Anyway, despite him being anonymous, Eddie always gives everyone an update on his boyfriend before they start the session of DnD each week. It's kind of a bit for everyone involved at this point.
And in the first session that Eddie's newest fresh sheep attend, he refuses to shy away from it. Either they'll be bigots (unlikely) or they'll be fine with it! It's a risk he's willing to take for his pride.
So he gives the update.
"How's your boyfriend, Ed?" Gareth asks with a teasing grin, and Eddie's closest friends lean toward him with giggles.
"Well, my sweetheart has had a great week. Remember that job I told you he'd applied for?"
"Assistant basketball coach for a kids team?" Jeff checks, and Eddie points at him like he's just scored a point.
"That's the one! He got the job! It's a bit of a drive but it sure as shit beats the minimum wage bullshit he was doing before. I swear, his manager actually hates his guts for no reason."
The existing Hellfire members all cheer at the news, whilst one of the new recruits, Henderson, makes an inquisitive noise and chuckles.
"That's crazy, because my friend Steve called me yesterday with super similar news! Small world, huh?" He says it so casually, looking down straight after to fiddle with his dice.
But Eddie feels like the world stops, his hands freezing in the middle of unfolding his dungeon master screen. Fuck. Henderson is one of Steve's kids.
Maybe no one has actually caught on yet. A sneaky glance to his friends reveals nothing but confused frowns on their faces.
"You guys might have known Steve, actually. Steve Harrington? Used to be a mega asshole through most of high school." Wheeler says in a way that somehow sounds simultaneously fond and like he despises Steve.
"He's great now, though! Like, totally reformed. Such a mom." Sinclair adds on.
Eddie nods passively at their words, and feels Gareth, Jeff and Paul's eyes on him. Right, he's still frozen in shock. He forces himself to relax, and finally finishes setting up the DM screen.
"Haha, what a coincidence." He manages, clearing his throat in the middle to clear up an unfortunate voice crack.
That voice crack gets all three of the kids to tilt their heads at him, and then their eyes light up like they've just won the lottery.
Shit shit shit. Hopefully they haven't put two and two together.
Somehow, he manages to make it through the session without revealing anything else, but as he draws it to a close his heart starts beating faster. He doesn't know how he didn't put it together before that these kids are Steve's kids. Steve is literally going to be late to their date night because he has to pick them up from an afterschool activitiy.
What other club meets up on a Friday but Hellfire?
He shakes his head and starts speeding through packing up his stuff. He's going through in his head ways to apologise to Steve in case the kids have figured it out, heart beating out of his chest as he zips his backpack up and leaves the room. The group of newbies run out after him, though.
"Eddie, wait up!" Henderson shouts after him, and he winces but stops.
"What's up?" He says with what he hopes is a smile but is probably a grimace.
"It's so funny how you're Steve's secret boyfriend." Henderson says with a giggle after he's checked no one else has left the drama room yet.
Wait, what? Eddie frowns at him, mouth open. Before he can question anything Sinclair nods along in agreement.
"We've been guessing for weeks now. You can't tell him we found out through you, I want to win our bet."
"If we figure out who his boyfriend is by the end of the month he's taking us to that tabletop RPG store in Indy." Wheeler adds on.
Eddie gapes at them for another second.
"Wait, Steve- he came out to you? When?" He manages, and the three boys tilt their heads at him.
"Like, since a month ago?" Sinclair guesses after a moment of thought, and Eddie lets out a quiet 'huh'.
"What, do you guys not talk about that shit?" Henderson asks, and Eddie shakes his head slowly, thinking back on if he had been told and had just forgotten.
Then it clicks. Just under a month ago, Steve had started to bring up the topic of coming out, and Eddie had gently insisted he didn't mind if Steve never came out and that he loves him anyway and he doesn't want him to feel pressured. And Steve had smiled fondly and let it go.
Had Steve been trying to tell him he came out to his kids?
He lets his head drop and takes a few deep breaths, trying to slow his heart rate. Thank fuck. He hasn't just accidentally outed his boyfriend.
"He's actually waiting for us in his car. I would say come with, but..."
"We're serious about this bet."
Eddie nods, and waves his hand in their general direction.
"Yeah, of course. Sure. You- you go win that bet. Jesus christ."
He hears them walk away and lets out an incredulous laugh to himself before he hears the drama room door swing open again, the chatter of Jeff, Gareth and Paul cutting off when they see the state he's in.
"You good, man?" Paul asks, and Eddie just lets out a sigh.
"Totally fine. Just thinking about wooing my sweetheart." He says, like they've walked into a joke he's set up.
They all groan, but continue walking toward the school's exit, and Eddie stays there, recovering from that shitshow.
#steddie#steddie ficlet#steddie drabble#steve harrington#eddie munson#so rambly#stwgdailyprompt#dailydrabble
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like she used to
alexia putellas x sister
i have been writing this for ages and it has just sat in my documents folder since january. i don't usually post stuff i write so this will probably get taken down at some point. i've written 13k words so far but this is just the first 4k.
~~~~~~
I hadn't expected to get the call up, not at all really. But Mapi tore her meniscus and apparently the first team found themselves in need of a backup centre back and I was the best option from the B team. It's a compliment, really. Mami is very proud of me and she is excited for me and my sister to play together in a few weeks, even though she is still recovering from her surgery and I will probably not make it off the bench. I am only 15 and 10 months, usually they wait until you are at least 16 and a bit before you can play.
But, I don't really know how to feel. Thankfully Alexia won't be in training with me for now and I try to avoid thinking about what will happen when she eventually gets better and I have to face her again.
Alexia is my older sister by a lot. There's a 14 year age gap between us and I used to completely and utterly idolise her. She and Alba were two superheroes, always by my side when I needed them. I put them on a pedestal like they were the greatest human beings to ever walk the planet. To me back then, they were.
I was only four when my father died. All I remember from that time was the big black invisible sheet that hung outside his study and the dark and scary emotions that swallowed our house whole. Alba and Alexia would argue about who got to cuddle me at night and I was so unaware what was happening that I would happily agree, wiping away their tears when it all got too much.
The death of our father made our family unit stronger. Mami, Ale, Alba and Elena - it was all any of us needed and we supported each other in whatever ways we could.
Mami had to pick up more shifts at her job, so she couldn't pick me up from school. Alexia had just got her license so she would come in a break during training and pick me up in her training gear.
Alexia didn't have time to drop me off at home so I would sit and watch the training with whoever wanted to give me company when they were injured.
Most days, Alba would come and pick me up and take me on the bus all the way home. She would play cartoons on the TV as she sat at the table and did school work. Some days, when she had the time she would sit with me and watch Alexia's training and we'd all go home together. Alba used to say she enjoyed the training. Looking back, I think she just wanted a free ride home and an excuse to not do her homework.
As I grew up, everything just worked. Alexia and Alba were still living at home as a support to Mami and everything was perfect. My sisters were my idols, my Mami was my shining star. She still is. She would do anything for her daughters, as long as it meant we were all happy.
That is why it has been so hard for her over the past two years.
I have not been happy, not really. My football has been thriving, I have represented my country in the under 17 age group and I am a consistent starter idol the Barcelona B team. I spent two years in La Masia before they sent me to the B team last year and I have only been improving since. Everything is going well. Mami says I have had a better start to my career than Alexia did.
Maybe that is why Alexia hates me. Maybe Mami is just saying that to make me feel better about it.
Alexia and I, despite the 14 year age gap, were always inseparable - for the first 12 years of my life. She was at every single school event, football game, she picked me up from trainings when she could and would train me herself in the garden. We shared a common passion that Alba was not interested in at all - we both love football, we eat, sleep and breath it. Football is everything. She was the one who gave me that mentality.
"Football is life, Lena, you are lucky you are so good because now you also get to live football and hermanita, it is the most incredible thing."
She had whispered that to me when I was 11. We were sat on the beach, a place we visited frequently throughout my childhood, both of us staring out at the reflection of the moon on the sea. Alba was fast asleep, her head in Alexia's lap as she snored lightly, completely oblivious to our conversation.
It all fell apart over three years ago, although I don't have the first clue as to why.
It was not an explicit event that ruined everything, more my older sister growing up and flying the nest that was so secure and established over years and years of shared success, happiness, failure and grief. She moved out of home long before that, but her split with Jenni upset her, I think, a great deal. I wouldn't know because she didn't really tell me anything - that was strictly Alba's business.
I didn't even know they had broken up until 5 months after it actually happened.
"Mami, why does Jenni never come over any more?"
It was an innocent and normal question, but the look on my mother's face told me everything. Everything about Jenni and everything about my sister.
I think that was the first knock. She hadn't done anything wrong but I had loved Jenni and Jenni had loved me. I would have thought that she would have told me they broke up. Maybe she didn't want to, maybe she just forgot. She does a lot of that these days.
Before she and Jenni broke up, she still came to all of my games. She never missed one game before I transferred to La Masia and would insist on taking me out to ice cream after every one. She would tease me for not scoring like she does, even though I play as a centre back.
"You need some training from Mapi, she is a centre back and has the most lethal free kick, hermanita! She is the best defender I have played with, but don't tell her I said that. I think you will grow up to be better than her."
She was excited that day, I had made a few good saves and I think that was the first time she really saw that I had the potential to be great.
I remember the first game she was late to. I noticed immediately but we both pretended she was on time - she only made it to the last 10 minutes but I put it down as traffic or being caught up at training. She was busy, it takes a lot to be La Reina.
I remember the first game she missed entirely. She wasn't there at the beginning and she wasn't there at the end. I was 13 and I didn't have a phone yet so I couldn't call Mami and ask her to come pick me up because Alexia was too busy. I told myself it was because she was too busy. I didn't want to say she had forgotten because that was too hard for me to handle.
I remember vividly sitting outside the stadium as the sun set. My coach had asked where my sister was, I was a bit stuck with what to say but I managed to convince her I was fine and she could go home.
Alba came and picked me up after work that night. It was dark and she looked sad but when I asked if she was ok, she just shrugged her shoulders and said everything would be fine.
I found out from Mami a few weeks later that Alba was sad because I had never once been forgotten anywhere. Alba saw that as the destruction of our strong family. I suppose she was not wrong.
Alexia never said anything about that game but she was at the next. She didn't take me out for ice cream after, instead patting my head and telling me she would drop me off at Mami's work.
"I have things to do, Elena, I am very busy. Hopefully soon Mami will let you catch the bus on your own. Maybe Alba can take you soon so you know the correct routes."
Her words hurt more than I could admit to myself, I told myself to stop being pathetic. Mami asked why I was crying when I walked into her office. I told her I had played terribly and she comforted me. I think she knew I was lying. I think that is why she had tears in her eyes when she released me from her grip-like hold.
Since that day, Alexia has been to 3 of my games. She went to one more of my old club games but she was sat beside Alba, her eyes glued to her phone the entire match. I was so unfocused that the ball deflected off my face and we conceded. I was taken off with a bleeding nose but when I looked up in the stands, my sister was still staring at her phone. Alba had run down the stairs and was by my side when I entered the little sick bay.
I cried then too. Most people thought it was because of the bleeding nose or the conceded goal. Alba knew that wasn't the real reason.
The penultimate game she watched was the final of the under 15s Catalonia cup. I don't know what she did during the game because Mami told me not to look up. She said she didn't want me to get distracted but I think she meant to say she didn't want me to get hurt.
I think I still idolised Alexia at that point in time. She was still my older sister and she was still the best player in the world. She still had weekly dinners at home, although she wouldn't sit next to me and sneakily take all the food I didn't want off my plate anymore. She stopped staying to watch a movie after dinner even though my favourite part of the week was falling asleep in her lap as her hands combed softly through my hair.
I remember when I was accepted into La Masia, Mami held a nice big dinner. It was right in the middle of covid so it was technically illegal, but we had a lot of my family over. Mami invited a few of the Barcelona girls as well and Mapi and Leila reminded me of what it used to be like before Alexia stopped loving me.
The reminder of the before was more painful than I liked to admit, and the night ended when the tears that had been burning in the back of my eyes finally spilled out as I was talking to Mapi.
She immediately pulled me into her arms and asked what was wrong and I struggled to find a lie that would be believable.
I settled on saying I was upset about everything changing - which I suppose was true.
I remember Alexia looking mortified and breaking eye contact as soon as I looked at her. She told me off that evening when Mami was in the shower and Alba was talking to someone else. She told me I needed to be grateful for everything I have been given and that she paved the way for me.
It was even worse when she said I would never achieve the things she has. She said it was because I didn't have the mentality that she did, that I had it all so easy.
It hurt the most when she told me she was disappointed in the person I was.
"I hope we never share a shirt, Elena, because the day you play in the first Barcelona team is the day that we have run out of players. It will mean that football players are week and female footballers can not be weak. You do not have it in you to be like me, to do what I have done to get to where I am."
The venom in her voice sent a cold shiver down my spine and I felt like I had been stabbed. I didn't cry that time. I waited until I was in my bedroom to sob my heart out.
The last time she ever watched me play was the next day, but she didn't have an option not to. I played terribly, my first game as a La Masia student, my sisters words repeating over and over in my head.
That was really what tipped the relationship I once shared with Alexia on its head. The pedestal I had put her on was destroyed and suddenly she was just another player. I barely saw her as my sister any more. She couldn't love me, you wouldn't be able to hurt someone you love so much.
I have barely seen her since. She still comes to our family dinners on Thursday nights - she still very much loves Alba and our Mami. But I tell Mami that I have training with Barcelona B late on Thursdays. It finishes at 6 and dinner starts at 7, but I just organise to go to my friends' houses for dinner instead.
Sometimes we both have dinner together at home, but it is awkward and I hate it. I think she has probably forgotten about what she said to me in June of 2021, but I don't think I will ever be able to.
She doesn't like me, but it's ok because I have learnt to accept that. But I will never not love my sister because she was once everything to me.
~~~~~~
"Pequena Putellas!" Patri's excited shriek is what welcomes me into the dressing room on my first day. She tackles me into a hug and squeezes me tight. "It has been such a long time, mi favorita!"
The last time I saw Patri was only last year at the champions league final. I had sat with my whole family but I went to the bathroom when everyone else went and spoke to the players. I don't think Patri would have seen me.
I can only smile as she continues.
"I remember you as the little 8 year old who would sit and watch our training sessions after school! I was so confused by you when I first arrived here, you know. I remember the first time Ale let you play a game with us and you were so good!"
"Nobody doubted that you would be on this team one day!" A new voice entered the conversation.
"Marta!" I hugged the brunette closely. She was always one of my favourites.
"I am proud of you, pequena putellas."
Her words are familiar as I have heard them out of my mothers voice time and time again my whole life. But they seem foreign coming from Marta and it is an unwanted reminder of my sister. I don't know why - maybe it is because I have always associated this Barcelona team with her. I don't remember the last time she said she was proud of me.
I don't remember the last time she said anything to me, really.
"Gracias, Marta, I have missed you." I bury my head into her neck and she holds me closer.
"You have not been around as much since you transferred to La Masia. I wanted to come and watch but Ale never extended an invitation and I didn't want to overstep." I shake my heads at her words and she frowns.
"Alexia doesn't have time for my games, she hasn't for a while. It takes a lot to be La Reina."
Marta's frown deepens at my words and the attention of a few spanish players is captured. I should have spoken quieter, I forgot how many people in here speak catalan.
"It is ok, she is very supportive, but she just can't come to my games. She makes it up in other ways." I am lying through my teeth but Marta will never know.
"I am sure, she must be very proud of you, being selected in this team for the first time, it is a big deal, you are very young."
All I can do is nod, my energy is all being put into holding back my own tears. I don't know if Mami told her. I don't know if Alexia even knows that I was selected.
"Get changed now, I am sure Jona will want to talk to you before the session, especially with the game tomorrow."
I nod again as Marta pats me on the back and walk over to the cubby that says my name. It feels a bit surreal, really.
I never really thought I would see my name on a Barcelona cubby, accompanied by my new number that I chose in the meeting a few days ago. It was always a dream, but I never thought it was achievable. Alexia always seemed like a superstar, a superhuman of sorts and I would never reach that kind of level.
But here I am in the team that I always wanted to be in - in no way am I anywhere near my sisters level but I am on my way to being like her. I just wish she cared. I wish she was proud of me like Marta is.
Her cubby sits across from me and I try to tear my eyes from it but it sits and stares right back at me. I feel like an intruder in Alexia's space, this is not for me, she would not want me to be here.
I tie my laces quickly after that and head out onto the pitches to begin training.
I have trained with the first team twice before, but the Barcelona Bs were always slightly seperate and we could keep our distance from the first players. Jonatan is a familiar face and I feel comfortable as he smiles and me and motions for me to follow the others to the gym.
It is weird, being promoted within my own club. I am not so much a new signing, but a replacement - I am not good enough to be in the first team but they had no other options when Mapi injured herself.
I used to worry that people would say I only get opportunities because my last name is Putellas. When my sister told me I was weak all those years ago, that idea sort of cemented in my head, I suppose.
I never told my Mami what her daughter said to me because it would upset her. I told Alba half of it when she found me crying in my room a few days later but made her promise to not tell anyone. She couldn't say anything to Mami, Alexia, anyone at all because it would only make Alexia think I was weaker.
She was furious and tried to tell me it was untrue but it had already been said. I believed Alexia's word more than anyone else. To me, she was a superhuman.
But when I spoke to Jonatan a few days ago he made me feel like I was wanted within this squad. He made it clear that he wants me to integrate completely into the squad in the next few years and that he can see me playing soon even though I am only 15.
I told him I didn't want anything special because of my surname.
He told me that he chose me because of my first name.
"Elena Putellas," he said with a grin, "you may be as good as her, but you are not your sister. This is a professional environment. As long as you perform, which I know you will, nobody will care what your name is."
It was a big boost to my confidence.
Aitana Bonmati caught up to me quickly as I walked to the gym.
"You are big now." I chuckled but did not look over, I didn't need to really. "But not that big. You are only 15, si?"
"Yes, I am 15."
I met Aitana when she first joined the club. She always used to say that she would steal me and take me home with her because she thought I was adorable. It is strange that I am now sort of in the same team as her.
She started playing for the first team when I was 8. I was older then, I played my own football and liked staying with Alexia so I could kick a ball around with her teammates when they were done.
Aitana was one of the few who would stay every time I was there. When Alexia didn't want to wait she would drive me home herself, all the way to the other side of Barcelona. We would always stop for ice cream on the way home.
"I have not seen you in too long, Lena. I have missed you a lot but you have been doing very well in the B team. I am very proud and I take credit for your abilities." She spoke in such a dead pan voice but it was somehow still filled with emotion.
"I have missed you too, ABC." It was a nickname I gave her the first time she drove me home. I had been learning about the alphabet in English class and had the little song stuck in my head when she told me her full name. I used to sing her initials in the tune of the song but it quickly merged to me just saying the three letters.
"I have been to a few of your games, you know?"
I look at her in confusion, I have never seen her there. She just nods.
"Alexia never invited any of us but she was never at the ones I went to so I would sit in the stands with a hat and glasses so people wouldn't recognise me, but I was there. I went to your La Masia games as well. You have become a phenomenal player, Lena."
She has always spoken with such sincerity. I have missed her a lot.
"Maybe you can drop me off at home again tonight? I have missed you."
She chuckles and pulls me into a side hug.
"I was waiting for you to ask, little Lena. Oh you are not so little any more!"
I chuckle as well and let my head fall onto her shoulder as we enter the gym. My eyes scan the room, looking at all of the players on their equipment, nerves quickly settling inside me.
"Don't worry, it's all easy." Aitana seems to read my mind. "Just come with me and I will show you how to do everything. It will become second nature in the next few days."
The gym session went quickly as I was taught all the different exercises. I was familiar with most of them, having done a very similar program in the past with the B team.
We went out onto the field to do some drills and I played well. Jonatan was impressed and so were the first players. My teammates? Maybe, not quite, I don't think. I still haven't been in a team list, so I suppose I'll be their teammate when that eventually happens.
It wasn't until we reached the ice cream shop that Aitana started asking me all the awkward questions. I should have seen it coming.
"Why do you never come to our games anymore, Lena?" I was very grateful for the scoops of gelato in my hands. Eating it delayed my response as I tried to come up with something to say. I shrug as I eat.
I can not say it is because I do not get along with Alexia. It is too hard for me to say now, even after all these years.
"I'm not sure. I suppose I got busy with my own training and school. I have been to a few but I usually go home with Alba pretty quickly after they finish." It is only half a lie but she just shrugs, apparently not believing my words.
"And why is it that I am driving you home from your first ever first team training? I thought Alexia would have wanted to." I anticipated a question like this but that does not mean I wanted her to actually ask it.
"Alexia is busy." I hope that Aitana understands I don't want to talk about it. I haven't spoken about my broken relationship with my sister to anyone. I think she can sense something is wrong though, because she puts her spoon back into her ice cream and grabs my arm so I am staring right at her.
"If you ever want to talk, I am right here, Lena. I know you don't like people knowing what is going on inside that crazy head of yours but it is good to release your feelings."
She definitely knows something is wrong so I appreciate her not pushing.
"I have outlets, I play football, I play the piano, I am ok, aitana, I really am."
She eyed me as if to say she didn't believe me but dropped the topic anyway.
"When did you get so good?"
#woso fanfics#woso#woso imagine#alexia putellas#putellas!reader#alexia putellas x reader#barca femeni#fcb femeni#alexia putellas imagine
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Act Right
warning: implied smut (18+)
"I thought I told you to check that attitude at the door," Roman's gaze grew more intense as he watched her small frame move gracefully down the aisle. The lines on his face deepened into a frown, highlighting his frustration at the audacity of the dark-skinned woman. He leaned over the shopping cart, his arms crossed over the handle as he slowly pushed it through the familiar aisles of their local Krogers. His posture was relaxed but on the inside, his irritation was simmering.
"I thought I told you to leave me the hell alone," She shot back, turning her head sharply to look at him over her shoulder. Her side-eye was so intense that she could feel the strain in her eyeballs. The stubborn woman crossed her arms tightly over her chest, rolling her eyes with extreme annoyance and pouting like a child who wasn't getting her way.
They had been roaming the grocery store, bickering over the smallest things. Their arguments ranged from things such as her thinking Roman was glancing another woman's way to trivial matters like deciding which seasoning to use for tonight's dinner. Every aisle seemed to bring a new disagreement, turning their shopping trip into a battlefield.
Roman had managed to keep his cool, but Bryden was unleashing the worst of herself. She fired off provocative comments, some of which Roman brushed off, while others brought what was simmering in him to a boil.
But these outbursts just didn't happen all of a sudden. It had been building up over the past few days.
On Monday, she treated him as invisible, walking past him without a glance. Despite his unavoidable 6'3" build, she seemed to effortlessly overlook him.
Tuesday saw Bryden in a frenzy, slamming and shoving everything in her path. Pots and pans crashed onto the kitchen counter, cabinet doors slammed shut, and even Roman, over 200 pounds, was pushed aside a few times.
By Wednesday, her eye rolls had become a habit. It seemed her eyes were doing acrobatics, rolling so far back that Roman wondered how she could still see straight. Every utterance from him, whether a chuckle, smirk or even a cough, was met with shady looks and comments from her.
Thursday had arrived, and with it came Bryden's relentless barrage of snappy remarks aimed at the WWE star. Curses, teeth-sucking, groans — she pulled out all the stops, showing out completely. Roman was teetering on the edge of his patience.
As he drummed his thumbs lightly against the grocery basket handle, Roman shook his head, forcing a fake smile onto his handsome face amongst strangers while Bryden continued to let snide remarks slip from her lips.
"Bryden Renee Wilson," Roman warned, his face flushing a dark shade of crimson that barely appeared on his tanned skin, his grip on the basket handle turning his knuckles pale.
When Roman resorted to using her full name, Bryden knew he meant business. She noticed the seriousness in his tone, but her own anger overshadowed any effect it might have had.
Roman was use to Bryden's unpredictable mood swings. Usually, he remained calm, using his soothing voice and words to ease her mind. His mastery of language often made it hard for her to hold onto her anger. But this time, his smooth talk fell flat. There was no getting through to her.
In a moment of frustration, Roman abandoned the basket without a thought. He reached out and pulled her body against his towering frame. The sound of her gasping filled the aisle, but not enough to draw the attention of nearby shoppers, but even if it did, Roman paid them no mind. His focus was solely on her, she had finally pushed him to his limit.
"Now, you listen to me. I'm tired of your shit," his voice reverberated through the shelves, his usually warm chocolate brown eyes now darkened with anger. His grip on her body lacked its usual gentleness, now replaced with a grip that left her trembling.
"I've been patient with you for too long, but your attitude is getting out of hand," he continued, echoing against the colorful backdrop of exotic spices and foreign delicacies shelved behind her. Her mean mug softened as she realized how upset she'd made him; Roman wasn't playing games.
His gaze lingered on her, brows knitting together in a puzzled frown as he tried to figure out what could have provoked her behavior.
Her heart was racing, her bottom lip trembling as she fell victim to his penetrating gaze.
Roman's lower body pressed against her abdomen, the bustling aisle around them fading into the background. His growing arousal was clear amongst the fragrant aromas and bustling shoppers, but it didn’t deter him from trying to get his message across.
Bryden swallowed any, if not all, whimpers that tried to escape. She was melting in the moment, the warmth of his body pressed against hers, his bulge growing against her stomach, she was ready to submit to him without question. She had missed this—missed him. His constant travel for work had left her starved for affection, feeling untouched and deprived. Even when he was home, his focus remained on his work, leaving little time for her. The only time she truly got his attention was when she acted out, her rebellious behavior was a desperate plea for the intimacy she craved so bad.
His jaw clenched as he spoke again, his words full of authority, "The disrespectful shit you've been saying and doing is unacceptable. I'm not finna tolerate it any longer. Act right, or I'll make sure you do, understand?"
As his hand tightened its grip on her bottom, each word emphasized with a squeeze, Bryden couldn't help but moan in discomfort. She pushed against his chest, turning her head away and shaking it 'no', her tight coils brushing against his chest and the shelves as she did so.
He cursed silently at her stubbornness, his body burning with fiery tendrils of irritation. With an exhale, he loosened his grip on her bottom, his hand withdrawing before delivering a sharp smack.
Her startled yelp cut through the air, the surprise and pain evident in the small, whimpering sound that followed. His rough hand moved to massage the tender spot, his touch now sought to soothe the sting he had caused.
"Keep trying me, Bryden. You better find you somethin' safe to do, sweetheart," he warned affectionately. She shivered as he placed a tender kiss on her temple, the softness of his lips and the rough texture of his beard sent delicate cascades of goosebumps across her skin. Each bristle brushed lightly against her, the same way they did to her thighs when his head was between them. She inwardly moaned at the thought.
He pushed a small curl from her pretty face before gently nudging her away, causing her to sway slightly on her feet.
His face formed a small, satisfied smirk, his eyes smoldering as he observed his girlfriend's response. Her flushed cheeks betrayed her anger, the sharpness of her expression giving way to a softening of her features. He couldn't help but notice the change in her body language—how her full bottom lip found its way between her teeth, a telltale sign of her horniness. Her legs were crossed, one thick thigh resting atop the other as if trying to keep her juices from dripping.
He walked back to the basket as if nothing had happened, pushing it through the aisle with his usual calm demeanor and a soft whistle. She stood rooted to the spot, still processing the interaction. As he continued walking, he noticed the absence of her footsteps behind him. He paused and glanced back, with a raise of his brow his eyes locked onto her, silently urging her to catch up.
"Come on, baby," he called softly, his voice gentle but still holding command. Without hesitation, she followed him, continuing their grocery run. The noise of the store faded as they walked side by side, picking up items from the shelves.
Usually, she'd murmur a few things under her breath if she was still irritated, but this time, she remained silent. For once, Bryden held her tongue. It was music to Roman's ears.
During their moment, when Roman was searching for her soul through her eyes, he truly understood why she was so frustrated—she always behaved like this when he returned from road trips, acting out like a spoiled brat. Maybe not to this degree, but she still displayed these behaviors nonetheless.
Her sulkiness and defiance were clear signs of sexual frustration. The way she became calm and quiet after giving her a bit of tough love confirmed his suspicion. Despite this, he knew it was unacceptable, and she needed to learn there were consequences for disrespecting him.
Oh, he was definitely going to discipline her once they got home. His mind raced with thoughts of how he would handle her, ensuring she understood the boundaries and the repercussions of crossing them. Maybe have her pick a popsicle stick from their punishment jar.
He was going to make sure she received some act right tonight..
---------------------
Whew, it's been a minute. Hope ya'll enjoyed!
Tags: @harmshake @southerngirl41 @spritelucozade @empressdede @alichesmi
@msbigredmachine @theninthwonder @blacst4r @sassginamillls @wrestlingprincess80
@headoftheetable @trashbin-nie @tshepisho @mzv11 @venusesworld @sheyaish @saintmagx
#roman reigns#roman reigns fanfiction#wwefanfic#romanreignsimagine#wwe#romanreignsoneshot#roman reigns smut#fanfiction#roman reigns x black reader#roman reigns fluff
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BELLA ITALIA ; theodore nott
PAIRING! theodore nott x fem!reader
SYNOPSIS! in the moment of darkness, he was your light (or when theodore nott noticed a pretty girl struggling to communicate in english and decided to step up) (based off this req.!!)
WARNINGS AND TAGS! fluff, reader is from italy, italian theodore, translation of foreign language
WORD COUNT! 1.7k
NOTES! i’m trying to learn italian on my own and when i hear this man speaking italian i am WHIPPED 😿😿
HARRY POTTER MASTERLIST!
© ahqkas — all rights reserved. even when credited, these works are prohibited to be reposted, translated or modified
MOVING FROM ONE COUNTRY TO ANOTHER CAN BE AN INCREDIBLY CHALLENGING EXPERIENCE.
The first problem is often the language barrier. Suddenly finding yourself in a place where you don't speak the native language can be isolating and overwhelming. Simple tasks like ordering food or asking for directions become daunting challenges, and the fear of being misunderstood or ridiculed can make even basic interactions fraught with anxiety.
The weather can also play a big role in the adjustment process. Going from a sunny, warm climate to a cold, rainy one (or vice versa) can have a profound impact on one's mood and well-being. It's not just a matter of dressing appropriately — it's about learning to cope with the changes in daylight, temperature, and overall atmosphere. You left the sunny shores filled with ocean breeze and moved to rainy afternoons that seemed rather sad than anything else.
And then, of course, there's the school. Being the new kid in class is never easy, but when you're in a completely foreign environment, it can feel like you're on an entirely different world. Everything from the way classes were conducted to the social dynamics among students was be vastly different from what you were used to, leaving you feeling like a fish out of water.
But perhaps the most challenging aspect of moving to a new country was the sense of displacement, of not quite belonging anywhere. You longed for the familiarity of home while simultaneously yearning to embrace your new surroundings. You missed the way the sun kissed your skin and the way the sea felt against your movements as you swam in the water with your friends.
And you wanted someone to understand you.
Navigating the labyrinthine halls of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, you clutch your time table tightly, eyes darting from one corridor to another in search of the potion dungeons. The castle's vastness is overwhelming, its endless staircases and hidden passages a far cry from the sunny, open streets of your hometown in Italy. You knew your first day here would be hell.
The weather outside matched your mood: overcast and drizzly, the persistent rain casting a melancholic atmosphere over the stone walls. You miss the warmth of the Italian sun, the vibrant colors of your old school. Here, everything feels cold and foreign, a constant reminder of how far you are from home. Everything was gray and dark, the opposite of the vibrant colors you were used to.
You spot a group of students huddled together, chatting animatedly as they stood by a stone wall. Gathering your courage, you approached them, hoping they can point you in the right direction. "Scusa," you begin, your Italian accent heavy, each word carefully pronounced. "Where . . . potion class . . . dungeons?" (Excuse me.)
The students exchange puzzled glances, clearly struggling to understand your accented English because despite your try, it still came out quite wobbly. One of them, a tall boy with a shock of red hair, furrowed his brow and shakes his head slowly. "What?" he says, not unkindly, but with a hint of frustration at this situation.
You felt your cheeks flush with embarrassment. You try again, your voice wavering slightly. "Potion dungeons," you repeat, gesturing with your hands as if that might bridge the gap between your language and theirs. "Next class . . . I need find."
The red-haired boy shrugs, casting a sideways glance of help at his two friends who stood next to him. They all look at you with the same guilty expression, as if they would really like to help but there was no way. The girl with bushy hair smiled at you with an expression of 'Sorry', and you felt a knot of anxiety tighten in your chest. They don't understand, and you're too flustered to find the right words.
"Sorry," the ginger boy said finally, shaking his head again. "I don't know what you're saying."
Disheartened, you nodded and mumbled a quick "grazie" before retreating. You wandered through the corridors, frustration mounting with each wrong turn. The stone walls seemed to close in around you, the ancient tapestries and suits of armor blurring together in your anxious haze. You felt lost, not just in the physical sense but emotionally, adrift in this unfamiliar place where even asking for directions was like a challenge for you.
Your mind was still reeling from the embarrassing encounter as you hurried down the corridor, your thoughts tangled in a web of frustration and self-doubt. How could something as simple as asking for directions feel so impossible? The sting of the students' puzzled looks and guilty smiles lingers, making your cheeks burn with residual embarrassment. Lost in your thoughts, you rounded a corner too quickly and collided with a solid figure. Your bag slipped from your shoulder, and your books spilled across the floor. You gasped at the sight, your heart leaping into your throat. Could you embarrass yourself any more today?
"Scusa, scusa!" you blurted out in Italian, crouching down to gather your scattered belongings. The words tumbled from your lips in a rapid, nervous stream. You didn't even think the person wouldn't understand your sentences. "Non stavo guardando dove andavo. Mi dispiace tanto!" (Excuse me, excuse me! I wasn't watching where I was going. I'm so sorry!)
As you frantically picked up your books, you glanced up to see who you've bumped into. Your eyes widened in surprise and relief when you recognized Theodore Nott, the quiet Slytherin who always seemed to glide through the halls with an air of calm detachment and mysterious aura. You braced yourself for confusion, expecting him to look as puzzled as the others had.
But instead, Theodore's lips curved into a slight smile and a warm glint appeared in his usually cool eyes. "Non ti preoccupare," he replied in perfect Italian, his voice soothing and accent deafening. "È tutto a posto. Lascia che ti aiuti." (Don't worry. It's all right. Let me help you.)
The shock of hearing your native language from his lips momentarily left you speechless. You watched in amazement as he got down on his knees, helping you gather your books with nothing but ease. The knot of anxiety in your chest began to loosen, replaced by a flutter of gratitude and something else — an unexpected connection.
"Grazie," you managed to say, your voice trembling slightly. "Non sapevo che parlassi italiano." (Thank you. I didn't know you spoke Italian.)
Theodore's smile widened just a fraction, a hint of amusement danced in his eyes. "Mia madre è italiana," he explained, handing you the last of your textbooks from the floor. "L'ho imparato da lei." (My mother is Italian. I learned it from her.)
You stand up, clutching your books to your chest, and for the first time since arriving at Hogwarts, you felt a sense of relief wash over you. Here is someone who understands — not just your words, but the feeling of being caught between two worlds.
"Grazie mille," you repeated, your smile genuine this time. "Mi sentivo così persa." (Thank you very much. I felt so lost.)
Theodore nodded, his expression softening. "Capisco. Hogwarts può essere un posto molto grande e confuso. Vieni, ti mostro io dov'è la classe di pozioni." (I understand. Hogwarts can be a very big and confusing place. Come, I'll show you where the potions class is.)
As you walked beside Theodore through the corridors of Hogwarts, the oppressive weight of the castle's vastness seemed to lift slightly. His calm demeanor and fluent Italian became a comforting anchor in this world full of unfamiliarity.
"Da quanto tempo sei qui?" you asked the boy next to you, trying to make conversation. (How long have you been here?)
"Questa è la mia sesta anno," he replied. "Conosco il castello come le mie tasche ormai." (This is my sixth year. I know the castle like the back of my hand by now.)
"Sei fortunato," you sighed, your hold on your bag tightening. "Mi sento come se fossi in un labirinto." (You're lucky. I feel like I'm in a maze.)
Theo chuckled and the sound was low and warm. He was nice. "Capisco. Anch'io mi sentivo così i primi giorni. Ma vedrai, presto ti abituerai." (I understand. I felt the same way in my first days. But you'll see, you'll get used to it soon.)
As you continued to walk, the conversation flowed more naturally, easing your nerves. "Cosa ti piace di più di Hogwarts?" you asked him, genuinely curious. (What do you like most about Hogwarts?)
"Direi la biblioteca," Theo said after a moment of thought. "È enorme, con così tanti libri rari. E i corridoi segreti. Sono divertenti da esplorare." (I would say the library. It's enormous, with so many rare books. And the secret corridors. They're fun to explore.)
"Sembra affascinante. Mi piacerebbe esplorare di più, ma ho paura di perdermi." (It sounds fascinating. I'd love to explore more, but I'm afraid of getting lost.)
He gave you a reassuring look. "Se vuoi, posso mostrarti alcuni dei posti migliori. Così non ti perderai." (If you want, I can show you some of the best places. That way you won't get lost.)
Theo was the kindest person you've met here in the entire time since the beginning of the school term and your heart warmed at his kindness. "Mi piacerebbe molto, grazie." (I'd love that, thank you.)
Finally, you reached the entrance to the dungeons. "Eccoci," Theo exclaimed, stopping before the heavy wooden door. "La classe di Pozioni è proprio qui dentro." (Here we are. The Potions class is right inside here.)
You took a deep breath, feeling a mix of anticipation and nerves. "Grazie, Theo. Sei stato davvero gentile." (Thank you, Theo. You've been really kind.)
He offered you a nod, his smile reassuring. "Prego. Se hai bisogno di altro aiuto, basta chiedere. Buona fortuna con la tua lezione." (You're welcome. If you need any more help, just ask. Good luck with your class.)
With one last grateful look, you pushed open the door and stepped into the dimly lit classroom. As you took your seat, you couldn't help but feel a flicker of hope. Perhaps, with friends like Theo, Hogwarts might start to feel a little more like home.
#reader insert#x reader#theodore nott x y/n#theodore nott fic#theo nott one shot#theo nott fic#theo nott x reader#theo nott imagine#theodore nott x reader#theodore nott fanfiction#theo nott fanfiction#theodore nott imagine#theodore nott drabble#theodore nott x you#theodore nott fluff#theodore nott oneshot#theodore nott#theo nott x y/n#theo nott x you#theo nott fluff#theo nott#harry potter x you#harry potter x reader#harry potter imagine#harry potter fanfiction#hp x reader#slytherin boys x reader#slytherin x reader#slytherin boys#slytherin
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i’m so stupid i did the request thing wrong sorry can i get a martini with 7 and 9 and with spencer please 🙏🏽
spencer reid x reader
prompts ; ' already barely holding it together as they're getting their hand held and then they feel that reassuring squeeze and they just can't anymore ' [ set when emily 'dies' ]
𝐍𝐀𝐕𝐈𝐆𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 ✦ 𝐲𝐨𝐮'𝐫𝐞 𝐢𝐧𝐯𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐲 𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐧𝐞𝐫 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐲 !
the quiet of the hospital waiting room had never seemed so loud.
even with a group of chatty profilers sat in the plastic chairs, no one had dared utter a word while they waited to hear the status of their friend.
derek and penelope sat opposite yourself and spencer, white bandages visible from under the fabric of derek's t-shirt.
emily wasnt the only one who had been hurt today but she was the only one everyone was currently scared for.
and you had never seen penelope so quiet. her foot was tapping light against the floor despite derek's hand resting on her knee to try and stop it. her eyes were darting around the room waiting for a doctor or someone to update them on the condition of her best friend.
and then there was spencer. your usually full of life boyfriend was sat silent in the chair next to you. if you were walking past you wouldn't have recognised him. his tall stature was shrunk into the blue seat, his typical neat composure was discarded.
but his eyes were what worried you.
while his gaze hadn't drifted for 3 hours, you found it impossible to pinpoint what exactly he was looking at.
in those three hours your hand had never left his, your fingers interlaced, unwilling and unable to let go.
it was like a lifeline neither of you wanted to give up.
a set of footsteps grabbed your attention and you tugged spencers hand slightly, bringing him out of whatever daze he was in.
hotch stood infront of all of you, an indecipherable expression on his face, but that was nothing new for hotch.
a small shake of his head seemed to shatter everything.
the silence was shattered by a sob from penelope before derek brought her into his arms.
but both yourself and spencer remained frozen, not daring to move.
emily prentiss was dead.
you hadn't known her as well as anyone around you and the news still caused tears to cascade down your cheeks.
but when you turned your attention to the man beside you, you found his expression hadn't changed. he still looked far off
that worried you more than if he had break down crying.
" spence " you whispered quietly, trying to break him out of it.
and it did, but not in the way you imagined.
" can we go home ?" he asked, his tone pleading. he didnt want to be here and you didnt blame him.
" yeah, 'f course " you picked up your bag from the floor and the two of you said your goodbyes to everyone, promising penelope that you would call her tomorrow.
you only let go of spencers hand to climb into the car and even then, the minute you were both sat down and the doors were shut, your fingers slid into his once again.
the far off look in his eyes was beginning to scare you.
but you didnt want to pressure him to talk, so you simply gave his hand a squeeze and moved to turn on the car.
that was until you heard a choked sob escape echo through the car and you abandoned your task.
when you brought your eyes back to him his face had crumbled and tears were swiftly making their way down his cheeks and dying his shirt that had wrinkled from how long he had been sat uncomfortably in the waiting room.
" oh, baby " you whispered quietly, lifting your interlocked hands to your lips and pressing a kiss to his knuckles.
that only seemed to make matters worse. you couldn't comfort him from the drivers seat of the car while he sat crumbling in the passengers seat.
and while it wasnt the most elegant manoeuvre, you didnt care as you slid over the centre console until your legs were straddling his and your arms were wrapped around his neck.
there wasnt even a second between your arms wrapping around his neck and his arms wrapping tightly around your waist, holding the two of you against eachother.
nothing was said as you held onto him, tears sliding down both of your cheeks and forming damp patches on your shoulders.
you didnt move.
you couldnt.
and you didnt want to either.
time seemed to speed by and yet it also seemed to go at a snails pace.
you weren't sure how long the two of you sat there entwined in each others arms, but the sight of the sky lightening up seemed to bring you out of it.
and even then, it only pulled you out of your bubble long enough to press a kiss to spencer's cheek.
" c'mon, let's get you home "
#༊*·˚𝐣𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐲𝐬 𝟏.𝟓𝐤 𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐧𝐞𝐫 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐲#·˚ ༘₊· ͟͟͞͞꒰➳ 𝐟𝐢𝐜#·˚ ༘₊· ͟͟͞͞꒰➳ 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐢𝐝#spencer reid#spencer reid fluff#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid smut#spencer reid fanfiction#spencer reid imagine#criminal minds evolution#criminal minds fanfiction#criminal minds gone wrong#criminal minds x reader#criminal minds fic#criminal minds incorrect#cm punk#cm incorrect quotes#cm drama#cm cast#cm fanfiction#criminal minds#aaron hotchner#emily prentiss#derek morgan#mgg x y/n#mgg x reader#mgg fanfiction#mgg pics#mgg imagine#matthew gray gubler
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The Memory Keeper
Chapter 1 : List.
Pairing : Noa x human reader
Warning : A bit of mourning. Otherwise, all clear for this one!
Summarize (please I'm so bad at writing these!): A woman, allowed to live as long as the virus keeps running through her body, living on autopilot for 260 years, is going to see her life takes a new turn, finding hope in something that might come to put an end to her wandering.
Words : 3.3k
A/N : It has been a long time since I've written something and it feels pretty good to get back at it with this story! I hope you'll like it and do not hesitate to share your thoughts or like/reblog, it's always appreciated! As English isn't my native language, I'm sorry if you find mistakes or weird wording in there, let me know if you find some and I'll be glad to correct them!
Enjoy your reading 😊
It wasn't going to be a difficult day. The list was ready, the tasks the same as the day before and the day after. You had to go to the river: catch a fish, fill the flasks with fresh water, bathe… You had to get on your horse and on the way back, stop at the 16th tree on the right, get off, walk 30 steps and fill the bag with blackberries. You had to avoid the brambles and avoid tripping over the prominent root. Get back on the horse and ride home.
Prepare the fish: remove the head and tail, the skin, gut it and remove the bones, light a fire to cook it. Yes, evolution had done many things, but it must have missed the episode where it was necessary to improve the human digestive system. So the fish still had to be cooked.
The garden had to be tended. Over the years, it had evolved too. It had been a long time in the making. A vegetable garden, tomatoes, green beans and, you couldn't quite remember how, artichokes had found their place too. An apple tree was easy to grow. It took time, but it was easy. And then there was this little gem you'd stumbled upon one day: a rosebush. It was an important one. You had to take care of it too.
You always had to do something.
Your hands knew what to do and how to do it. Your legs took you where you needed to go, and at that particular moment, they had led you to your horse. You had to remove his saddle and bridle, check his hooves and remove any stones that might have got stuck on them. Run your hand over his belly to loosen the skin compressed by the girth. And don't forget to give him a drink. When it came to eating, he found everything on his own, except perhaps an apple, which you gave him from time to time to thank him for his help. He knew how to ask, too. In fact, he huffed and gave you a nudge.
Okay, an apple.
He followed you to the apple tree and you climbed onto his back. You could reach the branches, but it was always difficult to keep your balance. Especially when your right hip wasn't working properly. And you sighed. It really wasn't convenient.
You had to go on with the list, what was next?
“ Hearing my voice at least once and speaking so I don't forget.”
This was important. You had to remember how to speak. The world had forgotten, but you must not. You had no right to forget.
“Say something new.”
And you looked around.
“It's cloudy today.”
Which meant rain wasn't far off. Your horse was now grazing beside you.
“You should take shelter.”
You smile, you'd said one more sentence today. Your horse's ears twitched as if to say “I do what I want” and you shrugged. After all, he was the one to decide. But you didn't want to get wet in the rain. You patted his neck and went off to find shelter in your wooden hut.
You've lived here for a long time. A very long time. So long that you no longer needed a torch to light up the big room when night fell or when the clouds darkened the place. You knew exactly where the shaky table was, the armchair with its deformed, hollowed-out seat and even the little plastic pot you kept forgetting to put back on the table to avoid getting your feet caught in it. And despite the years, you never tripped over it.
You were right to come home. You'd just had time to put the water flasks and the cooked fish on the table when a torrent of water hit the floor. The end of the list would have to wait. The timing was perfect, as your stomach signaled that it was time to fill up, and the smell of the wood-fired fish made your mouth water.
Settling back in your armchair, you ate the fish, watching the rain fall against the hut's only window. Eating with your hands was no longer as disturbing as it had been at first. There were a lot of memories that had slipped away over time, but you almost smiled when you thought back to the embarrassment you'd felt the first time you'd had to eat like that. If you'd known back then where you'd end up…
A sigh.
Drops tumbled against the window and some seemed to challenge themselves to get to the bottom first. They were following the path traced by others before them, but obviously not all roads were good ones to take. Some raindrops went straight down, others tried to cut off their opponents' path, and still others weaved in and out to create their own path. Then a raindrop caught your eye. It seemed the most likely to win the mad race. It glided and slalomed proudly until it landed delicately on your windowsill, blending in with its sisters who had landed there before it.
You turned your eyes to the last piece of fish, which you brought to your mouth.
You took one last look out the window, and that's when you caught sight of it.
A shadow.
A shadow had just moved past your window. The rain kept on pounding against it and you could see the trees in the distance stirring in the wind, and you were sure you saw the shadow moving, quickly to the right, but the shadow was gone. There were only raindrops, only the wind, and you could even hear the dull roar of an incipient thunderstorm.
A deep breath. You had to.
Then a sigh.
The rain and wind must have played a trick on you. If the storm picked up, you definitely wouldn't be able to finish your outdoor to-do list. But that didn't matter, there was still plenty to do inside.
First you had to tidy up. Keeping the interior clean and tidy was important, so you couldn't leave the water bottles on the table. You grabbed them and stepped over the little plastic pot that stood between the table and what you could call a kitchen. At least, that's what you would have called this part of the hut back in the day, because there was only a broken sink and a cupboard without a door. You passed the front door and it rattled against the latch in the wind. You had managed to install a branch across the door, allowing you to keep it closed in bad weather. However, as it didn't close very well, the wind always managed to rattle it between the branch and the latch. But you got used to the noise. So you walked past the shaky door to put the water bottles in the cupboard, and when you heard a suspicious rustling sound, you jumped, staring at the door.
You frowned at the unusual sound. You had been holding your breath, but the wind suddenly whistled through the doorframe, which was sorely lacking in hermetic seals. So you breathed out, taking a calmer breath. The wind. Mother Nature was definitely testing your nerves tonight.
Well, you still had to change your clothes. Night was coming on and you couldn't possibly sleep in your day clothes. You stepped over the little plastic pot again and made your way to the wooden chest beside the fireplace to find a t-shirt and a pair of jogging shorts with a hole in the left knee. Maybe one day you'd find a stray piece of fabric while walking through the forest, so you could mend it. But you hadn't yet got to the list asking you to explore the surrounding area.
There were 7 lists divided into 4 sections, themselves arranged in 12 categories. It was your way of keeping track of time. You no longer counted the days, let alone the years; you'd long since lost the very notion of time. But to grow crops, harvest the fruits of the forest and simply follow nature's millimetric events and be able to anticipate them, you needed a reference point. The lists, though mostly identical, were that reference point. Hanging on the wall with pieces of wood you'd carved yourself, they determined your days and the things you had to do.
You didn't really know when or how you'd started making these lists. But judging by the ink, half washed away by the years - some of the lists had even gone back to being blank - it must have been a long time ago.
You put the current day's list back in its place. Tomorrow, you'd have to complete it while carrying out the next one. But there was one more thing you needed to do indoors before settling into your armchair for the night. One last important thing.
From the chest, you took out a picture frame. The corners were worn, the wood had crumbled and you had to handle it carefully to avoid getting splinters in your hands. You set the frame down on the floor by the fireplace, knelt in front of it and reached into the jar on your right to pick a rose petal, which you placed carefully in the right-hand corner of the frame.
You struggled to swallow.
That's where it always got complicated.
Once again, you reached into the jar and pulled out 7 petals. You always needed 7 petals. You placed 6 of them in a circle on the dry twigs in the fireplace and began humming a song whose words you'd long since forgotten. But you remembered the feeling. You felt a lump in your throat, and you often wondered how you managed to keep the song going.
You hummed, and on the last petal, with the help of a needle, you delicately traced his initials. You had to be careful not to press too hard, you shouldn't pierce the petal, just brush against it enough to see, if you concentrated hard enough, the outline of the letter you were drawing. You also had to blink a few times to see clearly what you were doing. It was important to get it right. Once you'd written the letter on the petal, you laid it at the center of the circle.
It was always at this moment that your hands shook. You needed a moment. Just a bit of time.
You had to wipe your hands over your eyes, the most important thing was to handle the two flints on the floor with care. Your hands had to be steady, not shaking. You interrupted the song to get your breathing under control.
Inhale.
Breathe out.
Grab the flints.
Inhale.
Exhale.
A sharp stroke.
The clatter of the stone threw sparks onto the pile of twigs and a flame sprang up. You started humming again as the fire slowly consumed the wood until it reached the petals of the circle.
A tear.
The fire continued to progress and you stared desperately at the petal in the center, quickly ridding yourself of the tears that were blurring your vision. The flame touched the edge of the petal and you watched the letter “C” burn away and disappear into the ashes.
The flame faded as the twigs gradually disappeared and, once gone, you slipped the petal on the frame back into its jar.
Now you had to put the frame away. Your fingers brushed the edge of the picture inside of it. Despite the years, you had managed, by some miracle, to keep the photograph almost undamaged. At least, sufficiently intact that you could still distinguish the shape of an ape in the center of the picture, despite the cracks.
He was a force of nature. You had taken this photo on a December day, you still knew because you could still discern the white flakes clinging to his dark fur. Back then, you loved taking pictures.
What did they call you again?
The memory keeper.
Even after all this time, it still made you smile. You gently squeezed the frame between your fingers, keeping it balanced on the knees you'd just tucked in towards you. This way, he was a little closer to you.
You made an extra effort to remember the day. He was standing high enough to see everyone around him. He must have been talking about something important; he always had that powerful, soul-piercing stare when he was saying something important. But he always looked…
“Grumpy.”
You concluded your thought in a whisper that knotted your throat. Grumpy. You almost expected to hear him growl, his ego bruised, every time you reminded him that he was sometimes a little too grumpy. “Grumpy because a lot on my shoulders,” he'd snap back at you. “No, grumpy because you're old” you'd always reply, your eyes always playful. And you were the only one who could say such a thing, with the only result being an amused snore coming from him.
And you felt yourself take a deep breath. Of all the pictures you'd taken, this was the last one you had left. You had to put the frame back in the chest, so your fingers tightened even more around the wood. Your head tilted slightly forward, closing your eyes as the wood touched your forehead.
Tonight was difficult.
You took another deep breath, and before the knot in your throat hurt too much, you straightened up and went to put the frame in the chest.
“Caesar, tonight is really difficult,” you whispered, watching the shadow of the lid close over the frame.
------------
It had been a restless night. When your eyes opened the next morning, they felt heavy and swollen, and you found yourself rubbing your eyes to try and make the heaviness go away.
Today, there was much to do. After changing from your night clothes to your day ones, you removed the branch blocking the door and let the sun shine in, warming your skin. The fresh early-morning air caressed your skin and you took a few seconds to smell the distinctive light scent that follows a thunderstorm.
No sooner had you taken a few steps forward than your feet bumped into something hard, causing you to lose your balance. In a fraction of a second, you found yourself on your butt on the ground, a stabbing pain in your right hip that had failed to move to stop you from falling.
“Ouch!” was the only thing that slipped out of your mouth.
You straightened up slightly, remaining seated in the grass, to see what had caused your fall and a pile of apples laid exactly under the wobbly small porch that covered your front door.
God, what a dummy not to have put that away last night. You thought to yourself, looking down at your hands full of dirt. You'd have to go to the river to clean it up, and now you'd just have to take your night clothes with you because you'd also have to wash the ones you were wearing-the mud from the storm must have dirtied your current clothes.
A pile of apples. You thought as you rubbed your hands together.
A pile of apples. You glanced at your right hip. Pfft, if you'd made Caesar break it to put it back in its place, you'd never have fallen today. In fact, you'd have avoided more than one fall.
All because of a misplaced pile of apples.
A pile of misplaced apples.
And like a light bulb switching on, your gaze suddenly fell on those apples that actually had nothing to do there. You hadn't gathered them the day before.
Then you heard it. A muffled purr came gently from behind you. Surely you should have turned around, stood up and dealt with it, but you'd found yourself rooted to the spot, eyes glued to those apples, waiting as an orangutan appeared in your field of vision.
And you refused to look at him, your hands balled into fists to keep them from shaking. You weren't afraid. No. But for some obscure reason, your brain had simply decided to freeze.
The orangutan once again let out a rumble, softer this time, and held out his hand to you.
“I'll help.”
His voice made you blink several times. You did your best to snap out of your stupor, but this time your eyes agreed to look at him, and the orangutan seemed delighted.
Just one more moment. It took another second, just one, to see your hand slip into his and before you knew it, you were back on your feet.
“Raka, we must go.”
The second voice surprised you a little. It sounded familiar and your eyes fell on a chimpanzee, a little further away, who had just finished saddling a horse.
You frowned, your horse? You were trying to determine whether it was really yours, but the distance didn't allow you to be sure. There was only one way to find out.
So you whistled.
The horse shook its head and the chimpanzee didn't have time to grab the reins before your horse galloped off to meet you. They were going to take your horse… in exchange for a stack of apples?
You grabbed the reins and stroked the horse's neck as he snorted. He chewed the bit and blew heavily through his nostrils.
For a fraction of a second, you forgot about the two large apes who, from the sounds they were making, weren't particularly happy to have lost a chance of obtaining a second means of locomotion: in your peripheral vision, you could see another horse quietly grazing.
Your hands still knew what to do, and it didn't take you long to remove the bridle and bit from your horse's mouth.
“He doesn't like it.” you said simply.
And only silence answered you, so you showed the bridle to the two apes.
“The bit, he doesn't like it, he's not used to it.”
Your answer didn't seem to convince them. They stared at you, dumbstruck, and if you paid close enough attention, you could almost see their mouths hanging wide open. And that left you bewildered. What didn't they understand? You'd heard them talking, so that certainly wasn't the problem.
“You can't take my horse.” You went on, starting to remove the saddle.
It was becoming increasingly obvious that they were staring at you as if you'd just landed from the sky.
“If you want a horse, there's a wild herd to the south, past the river.” And you pointed in the right direction.
They remained silent as tombs, but the chimpanzee followed the direction you pointed with his eyes.
“Just be careful, the group's stallion isn't very friendly.” You thought it important to tell him.
Your gaze fell back on them and the orangutan, Raka, if you'd heard correctly, hadn't moved a muscle. The chimpanzee, on the other hand, was staring at you thoughtfully, as if he was trying to put together a puzzle with a missing piece. He then moved towards you inquisitively, perhaps, confused?
“Echo, speak?”
It was certainly the most surprising sentence you'd ever heard in your life.
#planet of the apes#kingdom of the planet of the apes#fanfiction#noa x human reader#noa x reader#pota#kotpota#oc/reader
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a fic or blurb of ryan’s farewell party for will pls?!
charm bracelet
hughes!sister x will smith au (samy + will)
samy heads to boston after ryan begs her to fly out for will’s farewell party in hopes of reconciling things between the ex-couple (writing grace and samy’s dynamic was actually so fun because i’ve never wrote them before)
2.1k words
i got so carried away with this it wasn’t gonna be this long but it turned into a whole fic. the ending of this is a bit interpret how you want, but in my mind it’s them not completely ignoring one another, but they aren’t gonna talk it out for a long while. p.s. the baby grace and will photo i found is actually adorable!
au masterlist
"please come?" ryan begged over the phone while samy sat at her desk pondering the offer he'd been trying to convince her of for the last twenty minutes. "if not for will, then for us? don't know when we'll see you if you aren't coming out to boston as often anymore," the brunette continued making samy feel even worse.
"hey, i'll still come to boston. i didn't just go for will, you know," the girl rolled her eyes slightly.
"then come out to see us. you don't even have to see will if you don't want. there will be enough people that you'll probably be able to avoid him," ryan kept persisting because 1. he knew samy still cared deep down and 2. she was their friends too and he knew the guys really wanted to see her again before school started back up.
"you're so annoying," she teased a bit making them both laugh. "i'll think about it, okay? i might have to be back at school, but i'll see."
"promise?"
"i promise," samy nodded and the two ended the call. when her phone found its place back on her desk, samy knew damn well already that she was completely free that weekend. she just didn't know if she could stomach potentially seeing will.
—
two weeks later, samy and her mom were on a plane to boston for the party. ellen was still very close to colleen and after being there for will his entire life, she wasn't missing this despite everything that's happened.
gabe and ryan drove into the city the day before to catch up with samy themselves. will didn't have much idea that the hughes were in town and probably wouldn't find out until tomorrow at the party.
"hey, hughesy," ryan greeted with a large smile. his arms quickly slid around the girl's frame in a tight hug before letting gabe take his turn.
"hi, it's good to see you guys again," samy grinned widely. she really did miss seeing them. it'd been since worlds that they were all together like this.
"i'm glad you came out. i didn't think you would," gabe admitted as the three sat at a small table waiting for the waiter to take their orders.
"i didn't think i was coming either, but i wanted to see you guys before school started and we'd get too caught up in everything," the brunette explained which made them smile.
"i can't believe school's gonna start again. feels like it just ended," gabe chuckled.
"don't remind me," ryan groaned earning more laughs from the other two.
the three quickly filled each other in on the things they missed. it felt like old times when everyone was in michigan together spending weekends sitting on a floor going back and forth with stupid little games. all of that felt like such simpler times because no feelings were involved. at least not any known feelings.
things settled a bit as samy and the boys ate their sandwiches they ordered and the topic shifted to one samy knew was gonna come up eventually.
"i don't know if i've said this to you, but will's a real idiot," gabe said quietly.
samy's jaw clenched a bit, "yeah, he is."
"have you..talked to him at all?" ryan wondered and the girl instantly shook her head.
"no and i don't really want to. i don't even know what i'd say to him or what he could say that would make me forgive him. he threw it all away and that really fucking hurts," samy admitted truthfully.
"right and you have every right to not wanna talk to him. he was an asshole for not trying to talk things out with you," gabe nodded in agreement.
"can i just say one thing though? i'm no way trying to defend anything that he said or did, but you gotta remember how will is with this kind of stuff sometimes. he says the wrong things when he's thinking something else. you guys were best friends above everything. you know him better than any of us probably. you really want to leave things on this note?" ryan said softly.
samy's gaze flicked away from the boys knowing ryan did have a small point in the back of her mind, but she wasn't ready to admit that. things were confusing and hard.
being back in boston had this pull on her. everything she's ever known came from michigan and boston—will being one of those things. he hurt her so badly, yet a really, really small part of her wanted to reach out.
"it doesn't matter anymore, ry. he meant what he said and even if he didn't wanna say it, he still did. i was basically worthless to him," samy couldn't though. her head overruled her heart knowing she needed to stand her ground because there was nothing more she could say to him.
—
will's entire house was packed with people. room to room, wall to wall, lawn to lawn—there were people everywhere. ryan wasn't wrong that samy could lose herself pretty easily into the crowd.
she hung outside a lot because out there she could escape anywhere if she saw will whereas inside could end up trapping her if she wasn't careful. she happily caught up with drew, aram, vote, and cutter who greeted her with bright smiles.
the idea of even being in the same proximity as will sent goosebumps down the girl's arms. her eyes were constantly flicking around as if she would see him turn some corner and make eye contact.
somehow, she managed to find a corner where it wasn't too crowded by the lawn chairs. the youngest hughes sat out on them just people watching when familiar locks of blonde hair started coming her way. for a moment, samy tensed, wondering how grace took the news about their breakup because she hadn't exactly talked to the oldest smith sibling since it happened.
"hey, samy," the older girl greeted warmly.
"hi, gracie," samy smiled, relaxing a bit when she saw the girl's smile.
"i'm happy to see you. it's been awhile," grace found a seat beside her for a moment while the brunette nodded a bit.
"yeah, it has," her gaze flicked away because they both knew why it had been awhile since they saw one another. grace didn't make a huge appearance at the family vacation a few months ago since she was busy apartment hunting and even then, her and samy didn't talk much because they never got to catch one another at the right time.
"this might be a stupid question, but..how are you?" the older girl wondered gently.
"i'm..i'm okay. hanging in there, i guess," samy nodded, biting the inside of her cheek.
"i'm sorry i haven't talked to you since..i don't want you to think i hate you or anything. last month was super busy and you looked busy and i didn't know if it was too soon to ask about everything.." grace trailed off a bit when she realized she was rambling. samy quickly shook her head.
"don't worry about it. i was worried you hated me," a small laugh sounded from the soccer players lips.
"oh my god no! i don't. i promise. i actually..am mad at will for how all of this happened. i..i was shocked when you left and i found will out there..i'm sorry. i..i wish i had an answer for my brother's reason, but i don't. i..i don't know why he broke up with you," grace frowned deeply.
"i left in such a mess, i'm sorry again. everything happened way too fast," samy shook her head.
"have you talked to him since.."
"ry and gabe asked me that yesterday and i said no. i mean, i have nothing to say to him, so why would i, you know?" the brunette shrugged.
"right, of course. mom told him this morning you and your mom were coming. that went over..interesting to say the least," grace tapped her finger against her cup.
"i've been avoiding him, i guess. i'm not sure i can really stomach seeing him, but..i don't know. felt like i owed it to him to be here at least? and the other guys too. don't know when i'll see them again. this whole thing feels like it screwed up everything with everyone," samy laughed dryly.
"i get it. i'm glad you did come. i saw your mom earlier, it was good to see her. even if will won't admit it, i know he's glad you're at least here too. one last hurrah before we move him out to california," grace said.
samy thought back to all the times will would talk about his move to cali whenever it happened. he'd always say how she'd fly out with him to help him decorate his apartment when the time came. plus, all the times will told her how he couldn't wait until they could live together so long distance would be over, yet he'd wait forever for her.
god, what happened to that will?
"you're thinking," the blonde pointed out, snapping samy back into reality.
while will knew her insanely well, so did grace. the two girls did grow up alongside one another even though there was a three year age gap. grace was the older sister samy never had as a little girl and she still was, so of course the older girl knew when samy was lost in thought.
"yeah, sorry," the younger girl shook her head.
"penny for your thoughts?" the expression made samy smile because will said the same thing.
"just how will always talked about me being there with him when he moved to california and how he couldn't wait until i was done with school to move out there with him. i wonder where that will went who was so ambitious about us and saying he would wait forever for me," the younger girl smiled sadly.
a little sigh escaped grace's lips hearing samy sound so heartbroken still. "i wish i knew what was running through his mind. i didn't even know he was considering it. it shocked the hell out of all of us. he's in there still somewhere, i know it and i know you don't wanna hear that, but i gotta believe it. i have never seen my brother like someone as much as he likes you, it confuses me how he just threw it all away like that," the blonde shook her head.
"you and me both," samy frowned this time.
"i think you just gotta give it time because damn, all of us believed you guys were it for each other. you'll find your way back, i think you two just need some space. will needs to settle in california and play a few games with the sharks and then i'm sure he'll come around. i don't believe this is the true end for you guys," grace said firmly.
the youngest hughes wanted to believe her so badly, but she just couldn't.
"maybe. it's hard to say though," samy said instead of being a complete pessimist about it.
the party ended a few hours later with samy successfully avoiding any contact with will. she didn't even see him which was surprising because she knew he was making his rounds.
her and her mom drove back to the hotel in silence just unwinding from the long day and talking to everyone they saw.
samy was brushing her teeth when her mom stuck her head in. the younger girl raised her eyebrow in confusion.
"i have a gift from you from someone i spoke to today," ellen said vaguely. the brunette raised her eyebrow.
"who?"
mrs. hughes didn't say anything while she just placed the envelope into samy's hand. the girl saw her name scribbled across the top in handwriting that she quickly recognized as will's. samy's gaze snapped to her mom's.
"i told him he's gonna do great in san jose," ellen said because she knew her daughter knew who that envelope was from.
the older woman slipped out of the bathroom leaving samy with the gift in her hand. she should've thrown it away, but curiosity got the better of her and she carefully ripped it open.
there wasn't any note or card, only a small charm of a shark.
her eyes danced to the charm bracelet sitting on her wrist that held her most precious charms.
will knew everything about her charm bracelet because he supplied most of the charms on the chain.
she remembered seeing the shark charm in some little gift shop with will many months ago, quickly mumbling something about how adorable it was and would fit the aesthetic for will's soon to be san jose career.
she had no idea will went back to buy it for her.
samy even wondered how long he's had it for.
without a word, samy clipped it onto the chain, adding one more pretty charm to her bracelet and a tiny smile painted her lips.
#will smith hockey#hughes!sister x will smith au#samy x will#boston college hockey#samy hughes#boston college#will smith x oc#uofmichigan#will smith imagine#umich hockey#bc eagles#bc hockey#san jose sharks#ws6#umich wolverines#umich soccer#ryan leonard#gabe perreault#usa hockey#team usa hockey
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subha hone na de ; jude bellingham
summary ♡ alexa play moonlight by twice :D
pairing ♡ jude bellingham x south asian/brown!fem!reader
content ♡ fluff, fiancé!jude, asian wedding shenanigans, jude in a black kurta (brown ppl will know that this is a trope in itself 😌), y/c/n = your cousin's name, lovergirl!reader, the moon as a symbol of beauty, tiny social media au at the end, bollywood fans this one's for u !! 🗣🗣
a/n ♡ ahhhh my first brown girl reader fic & i’m so excited for u all to read it 🥰🥰 the reason i used both south asian and brown as descriptors for the reader is bc i wanted to include the girlies of the diaspora like the caribbean/fiji/south africa/south east asia etc & tbh i wasn’t sure if any person of south asian descent preferred to describe themselves as either ‘south asian’ or as ‘brown’ !! also pls note that this is a very broad & non-specific portrayal of a person from “south asian culture” - that is to say that bc south asia is made up of numerous ethnicities, religions, cultures etc i don’t want to show disrespect by lumping them all together nor do i intend the reader to be from a certain south asian background! i tried to keep it as “general” (?) as possible esp when it came to the clothing but pls let me know if u would like to see elements of a specific culture or religion in a future south asian/brown!reader fic !! ALSO oml ik my a/ns are always so long 😭 but the title is a reference to one of my fav bollywood songs <3 it’s an absolute BANGER & it translates to “let there be no morning/don’t allow the dawn to arrive” which i think ties in nicely to this fic :D pls enjoy & lmk what u think!!! 🫶🏽💛
—
“alright… how do i look, babe?” your fiancé asks, emerging from the bedroom into the ensuite where you’re placing the finishing touches to your simple makeup look as he pats down the black sequinned kurta you’ve picked out for your cousin’s at-home henna ceremony tonight. his personal choice to pair it with a golden necklace and a watch to match makes the whole look pop against the summer-tanned tone of his skin.
you’re careful not to blind yourself with the eyeliner in your hand once you catch even the smallest glimpse of him in the mirror. it’s safe to say that if you were a cartoon character, there’d be hearts protruding from your eyeballs, all pink and comically large.
“you look amazing, jude, so handsome,” you beam at him, genuinely in awe of how good he looks in your culture’s clothing, not that it’s the first time you’ve seen jude wearing such a thing. over the years that the two of you have been dating, you’ve introduced him to so many facets of your heritage, sharing parts of yourself that were inseparably you – and jude has embraced and immersed himself in everything like he was born into that same culture.
your fiancé smiles right back at you before replying. “have to make sure i look good in front of my wife’s family now, don’t i?”
you struggle to stifle the schoolgirl-like giggle that racks through your chest at his words, still not able to be used to the word ‘wife’ coming out of jude’s mouth while referring to you, despite you not even being that yet. truth be told, it’s almost been a month since jude proposed and although you both agreed to wait for some time before telling fans and the media, he’s been calling you his wife around friends and family ever since he got down on one knee, resulting in your bashful smile and blushing cheeks becoming the subject of their teasing every time.
“true, yeah, can’t have the aunties gossiping about how you have zero drip.”
your joking is met with a childish sticking out of jude’s tongue before he’s shooed out of the bathroom, leaving you to complete your makeup and don the black and gold outfit that matches jude’s for tonight.
***
your cousin had told everyone that she wanted a very lowkey and relaxed henna function, especially since weddings from your culture tend to be incredibly busy—almost chaotically so—and she has the opportunity of her other nuptial ceremonies to go all out anyway, hence tonight’s dress code being as equally relaxed and minimal. in spite of all that, you’ve taught jude that celebrations in your culture and the word ‘lowkey’ are nothing but oxymorons of each other so he isn’t surprised when you both walk in to see the bridal home all decked out in bright lights and flower garlands the colours of a vivid spring and ten times the guests he was anticipating to see all bumbling about the place. what does surprise jude is when you inform him that you’ve been appointed as a “chief henna artist” (in the words of the bride) last minute so now he’s been abandoned; left to the mercy of your relatives who haven’t seen him for all of three months and so decide to hound him with every question under the sun.
“tell us how it was winning the champions league, jude!”
“jude, any plans for the wedding yet?”
“uncle jude, come play in the garden with us! please, uncle jude, please!
“is it true mbappé’s going to madrid? do you have his number?!”
“ooh, can you give me mbappé’s number?!”
jude fights the urge to jet past everyone and run out the front door screaming and flailing his arms, the blaring music and onslaught of inquiries getting to him, and instead peeks over the heads of the crowd around him to try and silently get your attention because as much as he loves your family, he’s praying you can be his knight in shining black and gold to save him from their unwarranted fixation right now. Unfortunately, he’s met with the sight of you fully concentrated on working on your cousin’s bridal henna, having teamed up with another cousin to meticulously draw intricate patterns across her arms and feet. oh, he’s going to have to get comfortable with the company of your relatives for at least the next three hours then.
***
those three hours turn into five by the time jude is done having a kickabout in the garden with your younger family members, detailing the night his club were champions of europe once again and politely declining the chance to leak the kylian mbappé’s phone number to your niece. not that he’s at his wits’ end (he kind of really is) but jude thinks he’d do good to be in your company as the clock tolls eleven so he opts out of another game of footy to go and look for you, much to the amusement of your relatives who lightheartedly taunt him about the way he can’t stay away from his fiancée for even a short while.
passing into the living room once again, jude finds you right where he left you but this time, it’s your henna that’s being painted onto the palms of your hands, the design so complex and elaborate that some of the already-dried parts look richly brick-ish red against your skin tone. under the twinkling fairy lights and waves of marigold flowers, jude can’t help but imagine it’s your nuptials being celebrated here; sitting so prettily like you’re what everyone came here to see and honestly? he can’t wait until it’s time for you to be just that.
“hi, again. remember me?” he jests, taking a seat on the floor cushion next to where you’re sat with your arms sprawled out as your cousin decorates them with muddy green paste.
“hmm, remind me who you are again?” you feign a confused look.
“ouch. is that ring on your finger not good enough of a reminder, mrs bellingham?”
“nope, the diamond’s too small.”
“oi!”
the laughter that erupts from the both of you even has your cousin joining in, jude breaking the giggle fits to ask an all-important question.
“have you eaten yet? you’ve been sat here the whole night doing this.”
shaking your head, you gesture towards the now empty bottle of water sitting by your feet that you’d been rationing throughout the evening and tell him that's all you’ve been filling your stomach with, way too busy with doing the bride’s henna then an aunty’s then a cousin’s then another aunty and then the next after that to even move from your spot in the lounge.
jude determines that that won’t do and offers to make you a plate of food that your elders had just topped up the buffet table with. you comply and ask him to get enough food for you to share.
between mouthfuls and munching of samosas—jude doing the super important job of biting the corner of a samosa and blowing the savoury pastry cool enough for you to take a bite—and sweetmeats, your cousin works hard at completing the henna art on your left hand, and there’s just the matter of a couple of fingers left before she utters a heartfelt apology and comments that her hand is about to cramp from holding cones of henna for so long.
“that’s okay! go grab a break and then if you’re still up for it, you can finish it later,” you say sincerely, encouraging her to go hang out with other parts of the family before she loses her mind in swirls and paisley patterns like you nearly have. “or i can always get someone else to do it!”
“can i have a go?”
the way jude pipes up, mouth stuffed with chocolate barfi like a child who's just found the cookie jar, has you and your cousin whipping your heads towards him and then at each other, sharing the slightest of sceptical looks.
“oh god, will we need to get the stencils out for him, y/n?” your cousin japes – well, she believes she is but the thought of her painstaking work being destroyed by a guy who, although creates art with a football, cannot draw anything further than a stick person makes her nervous, to say the least.
“hey!” jude wants to advocate for his art skills right here, right now. “i’ve been watching you do it all just now, i’ll just copy the exact same thing for the last two fingers, right?”
you pipe in as his supporting act. “he makes a very good case, your honour.”
your cousin surrenders to the pair of you, essentially fleeing the scene with mutters of “better not mess it up, bellingham” and you both know she’s deadly serious.
“still not too late to get the stencils, y’know?” you watch as your fiancé struggles with holding the henna cone correctly.
“no, no, i’ve got this, babe,” he remarks before almost smudging the still-wet design on your palm with his fingers. “oh shit!”
“jude!”
your heart nearly jumps out of your mouth at the sight.
“It’s fine, love, see!” jude points to an edge that’s ever so slightly smudged from the commotion. “all good. now, close your eyes.”
“you’re joking!” you squeak out incredulously, fearful of whatever is going on in that mad mind of his. you do not want to face the wrath of your cousin on a night that’s going so well.
“please, babe!” your grown fiancé looks like a kid trying to prove himself to his mum right now with the way his already puppy-dog eyes grow wider. “i promise it’ll look good, just… close your eyes, please?”
“ok, fine!” trying not to let reluctance get in the way, you’re now the one surrendering to jude’s request as your eyes close without any further argument.. “i’m telling y/c/n to kill you and not me if this doesn’t go to plan.”
a small chuckle is the only thing you can hear from jude before he gets to work, spending more minutes than you can count on your henna-adorned fingers as he drags the cool paint over your digits, questions of whether you can open your eyes yet meet with shushes and oftentimes you hear yourself hissing when jude tugs your skin with the pointed tip of the cone instead of hovering slightly above with it.
“aaand we’re done! you have my permission to open your eyes.” as soon as you do, you’re met with the sight of a very smug, very excited jude bellingham who gestures towards your left hand where… wow, the design is beautiful. it’s the tiniest bit clumsy, just where the lines are supposed to be straight, but it mirrors exactly what your cousin had painted on your right hand, the pattern set in its curls and dots and spirals.
“i did a little something extra, too. i hope y/c/n doesn’t mind but i think you’ll like it.”
“yeah? you’re gonna have to help me find it then, babe,” you say, already scanning over the artwork he’s created to try and find what mystery he’s left behind.
“actually, that’s supposed to be your job.” your fiancé replies, his smile a little more bashful and voice a little softer. “it’s my name, i wrote it in there for you to find—”
“really?! where?!” you ask albeit rhetorically as your eyes now frantically run all over your left hand in search of where jude has inscribed his own name.
a few seconds pass before they do a double-take over where your engagement ring sits on your finger, just there, just to the right of it along the crook of where your finger meets the back of your palm. there is it — the print so whimsically curled and sweetly small that it looks like it fits right in with the rest of the henna design. jude.
“where did you learn all this?” you’re tearing up just the slightest over it all, glad no one is within earshot of you two for you would’ve been teased to no end tonight.
your fiancé shrugs nonchalantly at your question before explaining everything. “i did some research after proposing and read about it. i know, originally, you’re supposed to be the one that knows and i’m the one that looks for it but i thought this would be cute.”
“it was cute— so cute,” you beam across at jude, the hearts in your eyes back again over how willing he is to throw himself into your cultural traditions and quirks, even learning things unprompted and without your encouragement. you thank your lucky stars that you found yourself a life partner who’s so unabashed in not just learning about your heritage but incorporating it into your lives. in a way, he’s been healing that little girl who grew up ashamed and embarrassed of her culture, wishing she was someone else, something else, and helping her become a woman who proudly wears it without giving anyone else ownership.
a chorus of “uncle jude! uncle jude!” rings through the living room as your younger relatives, all pumped up on sugar at around midnight (oh well, it is the time for festivities anyway), run in, dragging your fiancé away from you before you two can exchange any more words. you settle with a shared knowing look and smile, leaving you to get your henna dried and jude to commence round 2 of another football match.
***
there are only so many probing questions from aunties and uncles and instances of your cousin bitching about her situationship that you can take as your henna dries in, what are now, two makeshift cling-film casts to help strengthen the colour before you’re bothered by the lack of jude by your side as the clock tolls just past two in the morning. after sifting through possibly the entire family tree dotted throughout the house, you’re directed by an uncle to the balcony where jude’s standing hunched over the railing, gazing into the sky where the moon illuminates the earth, peeking from behind a sliver of cloud dust.
“hey, you,” you speak softly so as not to startle the peaceful moment that’s now given you a break from the hubbub inside.
jude whips his head towards the voice, instantly grinning at the sight of you, so beautiful in the moonshine, before extending an arm to pull you into his side.
“i see the moon’s out tonight,” you muse, not taking your eyes off him one bit as he continues to stare up into the sky.
“looks beautiful, right?”
“yeah, he does.” you daren’t unlock your gaze from the way jude glows in the moonlight, the cool tone sitting over his skin and bringing more attention to the bridge of his nose and the highest points of his cheekbones. oh, how you want to spend the rest of the night laying kisses across them.
“he? oh—” he turns to find your pretty eyes, lit equally as bright by the natural light, not even having budged an inch from his face as he realises you’re not talking about that moon. “shut up!”
you laugh as he blushes like a smitten teenage boy, a sight not too unfamiliar since that’s exactly what he was when the two of you started dating.
“what, can’t a girl be romantic with her husband?” you act out a sweet pout, the sight and your words making jude’s heart skip a beat or three.
“you are so lucky your family isn’t here to take the piss.”
another set of giggles from the pair of you as you cuddle into jude’s side, both now facing the moon that you swear is shining way brighter than before, the cloud in front of it nearly dissipating into non-existence.
“i love you, mrs bellingham,” jude breaks the serene silence. “i can’t wait to spend the rest of my life with you.” he places the gentlest of kisses on your ring finger, lips ghosting just over the cling-film-covered diamond ring. the scene would’ve been amusing had it not been for the tender romance of the moment, a few minutes to get away from the beloved chaos of family celebrations and to pretend the whole world rotated on its axis, served its purpose, for only jude and you.
“i love you, too. so much, jude.”
you sigh into the warming summer air, silently asking the sun to rise a little later so that you can fawn over your lover's features in the moonlight for as much time as you wanted.
—
yourusername • 18h
liked by judebellingham and others
yourusername celebrating love with my love 💒
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judebellingham can’t wait for our turn 💍❤️
↳ yourusername ilysm 🥹❤
user1 THE LAST PIC????????? RUE,,,, WHEN WAS THIS????
user2 🥳🥳🥳CONGRATULATIONSSS🥳🥳🥳 (i’m gatecrashing the wedding)
trentalexanderarnold best man position still vacant? 🫣
↳ jobebellingham unfortunately no 🙄
user3 we need the proposal story asap!!!
↳ user4 and a whole album worth’s of pictures too !!!!!
#me when the black kurta-wearing baddie tells me to do smth: 🫡🫡🫡🫡🫡🫡🫡#this exact post has been festering in my drafts since nov 2023 pleaseeee#real ones will remember this was supposed to be a smut lmao i’m so glad i went down this routine instead!!! <33#i do have to say that it’s sooo hard finding non “north indian/pakistani” inspo pics on pinterest even if u do search for specific cultures#+ dark skinned south asian content is basically non existent which makes me sooo frustrated so im so sorry for the rlly limited visuals :((#jude bellingham#jude bellingham fluff#jude bellingham x reader#jude bellingham imagine#jude bellingham x you#jude bellingham fanfic#jude bellingham x fem!reader#jude bellingham x south asian reader#football imagine#footballer imagine#footballer fluff#football smau
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oh-honey-moon | NANAMI K.
๋࣭ ⭑⚝⭒ content; —mdni. husband!nanami. honeymoon shenanigans. face sıttıng. pūssy eating. spıttıng and slappıng mentioned only once. f!orgāsm.
๋࣭ ⭑⚝⭒ word count; —4k
๋࣭ ⭑⚝⭒an; —i planned this to be something soft and all about married life, but here i am, providing you with this. this is all i got so please praise me, thanks. ૮₍ ˃ ⤙ ˂ ₎ა
Nanami's brows furrowed involuntarily, if he was aware of his own expression he'd definitely hide it. His index finger tapping a restless rhythm on his crossed arms while his eyes heavily rest upon your figure, standing on the chair in front of your laptop, he finds all of this even more annoying. Despite his attempt at a distant demeanor, the audible tap of his foot on the carpeted floor betrays his impatience—even though you can't catch the way he stomps the floor, it's still there. It almost seems as if he is unconsciously trying to divert your attention from your work, his looming shadow casting a presence behind you as he hovers over your seated form—if you were aware of him, you'd probably be laughing and finding it endearingly cute how demanding he is. The sense of neglect gnaws at him even though he knows that you're not doing this on purpose, it's a result of your relentless dedication to your work that keeps you apart. This is supposed to be your honeymoon, for goodness' sake, and yet here you are, still engrossed in tasks at one o'clock in the morning even though you can handle them very well when you get back. Nanami grapples with his reluctance to voice his concerns, fearing he might come across as overly needy if he is to express how overlooked he is feeling right now. Leaning in close, he rests his head against your shoulder in silence, his hands sneaking underneath his own shirt that's completely oversized for you, tenderly tracing circles on your stomach as he breathes in your scent deeply, a low, guttural sound escaping his lips. "Bed, love, now," he urges firmly, his voice carrying a blend of longing and insistence as he speaks.
If you knew that you'd have a doting husband, a happy marriage and a shitload of money; maybe you wouldn't think money was the most important thing in life during your teenage years. Money meant everything for you, probably because of how you experienced your parents' stress about not having enough income to get by. So, that's why you chose a job like this. Your job wouldn't recognize holidays or off-days; even though you mainly work from home, you're just constantly on your laptop, phone and tablet.
You know that you promised to never touch any work related thing during your honeymoon, yet, the paycheck is good, and you just can't slack off. When Nanami's big and strong arms sneak up on you, his veiny hand on your stomach under your shirt and his forehead on your shoulder; you softly chuckle without peeling your eyes from the bright screen. "I know, baby," you murmur, fingers typing the words out at an inhumane speed. "I will be in bed, give me a min."
Nanami exhales with a frown, his warm breath fanning your neck. He's upset that you prioritized the laptop instead of him. He places a gentle squeeze on your soft stomach, and his hands slowly slide underneath your loose t-shirt, causing your skin to tingle from the feeling of his warm, large hands.
"It's two in the morning. We both know you've been working your ass off while we were supposed to be enjoying our honeymoon." His voice is hoarse and low.
And he is right and you can't deny it; this is your honeymoon. What kind of an asshole works on their honeymoon? Well, definitely not Nanami, but you sound like you fit the type. With a soft sigh escaping your lips, you give in. Yeah, this work and the deadline are definitely not your problems, especially not now. You can deal with them once you get back from your honeymoon.
So, you gently lean back closer to your husband, feeling the warmth of his touch envelop you as you close your eyes and rest the back of your head against the crook of his neck—right where his shoulder meets the curve of his neck, right where you fit perfectly. "I'm sorry," you whisper, your arms wrapping around Nanami's arms even though his strong hold has already crept under your oversized t-shirt the moment he approached you. "You're right, I'm being an annoying workaholic. I'll deal with it later."
A small smirk appears on Nanami's features as you lean back against him with a murmured apology. He releases a deep purr when you rest your head against his neck where you fit seamlessly. He places a tender kiss on the sensitive part, his large hands gently rubbing your warm stomach.
"Mm," he hums in acknowledgment and presses another kiss on your shoulder. "No need to apologize. I just wish you'd stop treating the job as a priority over your own well-being," he whispers, his chest rising and falling against your back.
One of the thin straps of your top slides down to your shoulder since Nanami shuffles a lot while holding you, embracing you; or more like caging you in between those strong arms. His thick biceps and veiny hands... you would've never expected him to be this muscular underneath those expensive suits. Everytime he kisses you, it has a fuzzy and warm feeling to it; filling you up to the brim with such intense emotions.
You slightly turn your head around to face him, and you're glad that those dark-circles are long gone. He used to be the same workaholic as you, but after starting to date you, he made you his priority. You place a kiss to where you can reach, under his jawline. His warmth and scent make you dizzy as you let out a content sigh. "I'll do better from now on," you murmur, feeling all too pliant enveloped by his embrace. "I love you. Let's get back to bed, hm?"
Nanami's sharp ears catch your response and he releases a deep, satisfied groan at the vow you made. His lips gently touch each side of your shoulder, and then he leans into your touch when you place a kiss along his jawline.
"I know you will," he murmurs back, his tone filled with a warm affection. He presses one final kiss behind your ear before he slowly withdraws, tugging you away from the desk and in the direction of the bed. He gently guides you towards the comfortable sheets, a quiet anticipation present in his eyes.
You leave the big chair placed in front of the big desk in your suite hotel room, tall windows let the most of the light cast upon the vast room. It's really dark outside except for the faint city lights coming from the distance. The bed is placed in the middle as a classic; two bedside drawers on each side of the bed while the sliding door to the balcony is on the left side of the room. The room has everything in it, and you think that you can stay inside this room during your whole stay here.
With your hand getting lost in Nanami's veiny, big hand, you follow him to the bed. His t-shirt looks like it can fit two more of you in it, your hair is messy since you've interrupted your own sleep with your work. The sheets are messy, too, both of you shuffle a lot during your sleep. You immediately plop yourself onto the bed, and Nanami's scent mixed with yours makes you close your eyes and bask in it. God—you truly love him.
"Better?"
Nanami releases a gentle hum as he settles into the plush mattress, wrapping his strong arm around your waist, his thick biceps flexing under your touch. His other arm beneath your head finds a home in your hair, gently stroking and playing with the soft strands. His chest rises and falls underneath you with each breath, and his muscular body radiates a heat that seeps into you. His fingers glide over your skin, drawing invisible patterns on his chest as you do the same to him.
He chuckles softly at your question, the sound reverberating deep in his chest. "Much better," he murmurs, his voice a low and soothing rumble. "You have no idea how good that feels, love."
You feel drowsy, probably due to the warmth that seeps into your body from Nanami. It's already pretty late, too, so it's only natural for your eyelids to feel heavier and heavier as you listen to his deep and raspy voice. Even when he talks in a low tone, his voice shakes you to your core—full of tenderness and love for you. You pull back slightly to look at his face, his sharp features appearing softer than ever under the faint lights coming from the tall windows. You can't help but softly laugh; his eyes are closed but he's not sleeping, you know that. "I bet it feels good," you say, fingertips gently tracing the outline of his face. "What's up with you tonight? You're extremely clingy, I'm surprised."
A small smile creeps onto Nanami's chiseled features as your fingertips gently trace the contours of his face. He opens his eyes and meets your gaze, his expression filled with an intense and burning desire. He shifts his body to face you and captures your hand, intertwining your fingers with his own. His thumb strokes the back of your hand, the touch gentle yet firm. "Am I?" he asks with a hint of amusement. "Perhaps I've been craving your presence," he murmurs, leaning in to steal a tender kiss from your lips.
It's always an intense feeling whenever your eyes meet his, and it'll always be like that, very likely. As if you're not his wife and just a girl who has a crush on him, you always get the need to avert your gaze when his strong gaze catches your eyes. With your eyes that shine like a sky adorned with stars, always reflecting what you feel even without trying—Nanami doesn't have to ask you questions to know what or how you feel, he already knows by staring into your eyes. All of it feels suffocatingly warm and fuzzy after you pull back from the kiss, and you realize this is where you've always wanted to be. "Oh, you definitely are," you murmur, fingers habitually finding their places in his soft hair. "I like this side of you, a lot."
A low sound almost like a groan resonates deep within Nanami's chest as you tangle your fingers through his hair, his eyes closing involuntarily in relaxation at your touch. His muscular frame is pressed close to yours, his heat wrapping around you like a warm, comforting blanket. He nuzzles his face into the nook of your shoulder, his lips pressing gently against the sensitive skin with a tender kiss.
"Good," he murmurs softly, his voice low and husky with affection. "Because I plan on being extra clingy."
The way your bodies act on their own with a magnetic force whenever they touch has always been mind-blowing for you, really. Whenever Nanami wraps his arms around your waist, your body presses against him on its own. Whenever his hand cups your cheek, you nuzzle against his big hand. Whenever his lips find solace in the nook of your sensitive neck, your head drops back to give him more room—almost as if you're completely offering yourself to him.
"Oh?" You murmur softly, eyebrows raising slightly as you can't hold in the chuckle escaping your lips. "How so? You're spoiling me too much, I might get addicted and demand more and more."
A low groan vibrates within Nanami's throat when you tilt your head back, giving him access to your sensitive neck. His lips gently press against your exposed skin, planting languid and wet kisses along the curve of your shoulder, causing chills to ripple down your spine. His palm rests against your cheek, his thumb caressing the smoothness beneath his touch. "You have no idea the things you do to me," he whispers, almost inaudibly. "Well, if you ask me; you deserve to be spoiled like a goddess."
"Besides," he whispers again, his voice husky and seductive, "Is that such a bad thing?" He pauses his affections for a moment and gently nibbles on your earlobe, his warm breath grazing your skin.
"I quite like indulging your every whim."
"Ah," you sweetly whisper back, eyes closing in tranquility as you softly smile. Nanami is always taken aback by your beauty, everytime he sees you it feels like it's his first time seeing you. His heart never fails to flatter in his chest just by seeing you; rather you are reading a book while cozily curled up in a couch, or furrowing in front of your laptop, or embraced in his arms like this, you are always a sight for sore eyes. "The addicting high of being turned into a brat by my very beloved husband," you say, the slightest sly smirk spreading across your face.
"You're a handful," he responds, amusement laced in his voice as he gently tugs on your earlobe with the slightest bit of teeth, his grip on you growing firmer. His large hand gently squeezes your waist, pulling your body even closer to his. Every inch of your body is pressed against his, his heat and weight enveloping your form tightly like fine linen. Nanami continues his ministrations on your neck, his tongue lightly trailing along the column of your throat, his warm, skilled mouth gently nipping at your sensitive skin. His sharp teeth playfully graze you, creating tantalizing sensations that send electricity humming through your body. "How did I fall in love with you? You're driving me insane," he teases, and it only fuels that sly smirk plastered across your beautiful face.
The warmth enveloping you turns into something hotter, even heavier when you feel Nanami's teeth coming in contact with the sensitive skin of your neck. With your eyes closed, you let out a pleased hum—and that's probably all he needs from the very beginning, to be honest. You find yourself straddling his lap, your body being moved with such ease by his strong hands as he places you on top of his own body. You're stimulated by how he feels underneath you; ready to give you everything you ask for and more. Feeling him pressed against you has your head spinning as he slightly gets up from the bed, getting into a sitting position as his lips leave no place on your skin untouched. He explores you as if he never did that before, and you find yourself needily clawing at his back. "Nanami," you breathlessly whimper his name, head thrown back as it gets harder and harder to sit still. His large, talented hands roam your body with a possessive need, his touch leaving trails of heat and desire in its wake. He moves with purpose, gently pinning your hips down onto his clothed lap, preventing your squirming body from escaping his heated touch.
Nanami's breath catches in his throat as your fingers dig into his back, the sound of his name falling from your lips like a sultry melody. He can hear the slight strain in your voice, the need evident in your tone. His own body responds involuntarily, a low groan rippling through him as he presses closer. His heart races, pounding against the confines of his chest, as his lips explore every inch of your body with a mix of passion and reverence. His hands hold you firmly against his body, supporting you as you sit on his lap. But as you claw at his back, trying to get even closer to him, he can feel himself unraveling. Feeling your thighs squeezing, his fingers grip your skin, his breathing grows ragged. "So pretty," he groans against your neck. "You sound so pretty, love."
Nanami's mouth trails a path down to your collarbone, his kisses alternating between gentle and possessive. With hungry need, he worships every inch of your skin like a hopeless devotee. He revels in your reaction—the way your back arches and your voice trembles. His breath is hot and heavy against your skin. "Hm?" comes his low, gravelly voice, a sound full of desire. "You like it, don't you?" he asks, his hands gently lifting your shirt up. Your bodies practically molding together, you feel yourself suddenly growing needy, desperate to be touched and explored even more. The hungry kisses and determined bites to your skin feel like they don't do enough justice to your burning body—you relish in the way his big hands sneak under the oversized t-shirt you stole from him, causing the hair on your nape to stand up in its wake. "Yeah," you breathlessly reply without wasting a second, head nodding with a little bit too much craving.
The thin fabric feels unnecessary as Nanami worships every inch of your skin within his reach, probably saving what's underneath the pieces of clothing for the last. You grow impatient, body slightly jolting forward when his big hands cover the whole small of your back. "Nanami, please," you whimper, eyebrows furrowing as it gets almost impossible to stop yourself from grinding against him. You feel your shorts getting wet, and it's kind of embarrassing—just by being kissed... Your body tenses, pussy begging for any kind of friction as you feel him growing hard in his sweatpants. If you could just—if you could, God, it'd solve all your current problems if you could just grind against his growing erection. With a low groan, he pulls you closer. "Look at me," he commands, his breath hot against your skin. "Please what?" he whispers. "You need to tell me exactly what you want, love." His hands slide from your back to your hips, slowly guiding you closer and bringing your body in contact with the hardness growing beneath him. All his words are barely a whisper, but the deep tone of his voice tells of his own desperations.
A sound like a soft, broken soft falls from your lips as Nanami shifts in his place, sliding down to lay on his back completely—he bucks his hips up, and it doesn't help. It rips another delicious moan from you, body jolting in his lap again as you hold onto his thick biceps for support; nails digging into his skin. "Don't be mean," you whine, lips pouting momentarily. "You know what I want."
"Do I?" His response is breathless as his big hands hold onto your hips, helping you grind against him, practically riding him through the fabric of these annoying clothes as your body slightly trembles. "Yeah," you immediately reply, eyes getting glossy since the vast suite feels smaller, hotter than ever. Your fingers find the waistband of Nanami's sweatpants, eager to free him from it, yet he holds your hand—causing it to get lost in his big palm. You realize that his hands are actually cold, but it burns when he touches your skin. "Careful," he warns, voice low and husky as he stares into your eyes—his usual neat hair is messy, some strands falling over his forehead, it looks fluffier and softer than usual. "I'm in charge here."
You part your lips to protest, but it’s cut before you even have the chance when Nanami softly smacks your ass with one hand—urging you to lift yourself off from his lap, to inch closer to his face. “Go on,” he says, causing your breath to hitch in your throat as you feel nailed to where you are. “Come on, doll, don’t make me say it twice.”
When you lift your hips up, Nanami doesn’t waste any second; his fingers hook around the waistband of your poor excuse of shorts, that’s what he’d probably say, and he throws them somewhere. God, he loves it when you don’t wear anything underneath; he’s immediately welcomed by your glistening folds as he pushes you a little bit further, lips parting and brows knitting as soon as he has you pressed against his mouth. Your knees pressed against the bed on both sides of his head, one hand holds onto the head of the bed as the other tugs on Nanami’s messy hair—he’ll be the death of you, that’s for sure.
“Fuck,” the moan is long and drawn-out as your legs tremble, you’re glad that he’s supporting you with his big hands as the bridge of his nose nuzzles against your clit and his tongue laps at your weeping cunt—everytime your body jerks away from him, he has you pressed against his mouth. His low groans send vibrations throughout your whole body, making you cry in pleasure. “Fuck, Nanami—wait,” you breathlessly protest, feeling like you’re losing a piece of your sanity whenever his lips press kisses to your clit and his tongue delves into your pussy; tasting you and eating you out like a starved man. The slick sounds fill the room, hypnotizing, mixing with your breathless whimper and soft cries as well as Nanami’s deep and muffled groans against your pussy. “Can’t wait,” he replies, as if he’s heard you just now, and his gaze meets your eyes, holding your gaze captive. It gets you even wetter, if that’s possible, causing your juices to drip down to his chin and smear all over your inner thighs as his tongue keeps working on you.
“Please, if you—fuck, fuck, if you don’t wait, I’m just gonna—,” you avert your gaze, feeling embarrassed by the intensity of his gaze as your vision becomes blurry—you’ve forgotten everything that led up to this. Nanami’s face buried in your pussy, tongue desperately lapping, his nose nuzzling against where you need it the most, hands kneading the soft skin of your thighs as his muffled moans and groans send shivers down to your spine. You feel his body twitching, too, hips bucking into the emptiness, he must be painfully hard—pre-cum leaking, staining his sweatpants as he eats you out.
Without having the chance to say anything, that coiled up feeling explodes—causing you erratically grind against Nanami’s tongue, probably stealing his air, yet he doesn’t seem like he’s complaining even a bit. As you cum, letting him taste you on his tongue and your juices dripping down to his chin, you softly sob—the intense feeling stealing the breath from your lungs. It takes you some time to come down from your high, slowly keeping up your movement. Nanami serves you like the queen you are, letting you tug on his hair and sticking his tongue out, you even hear him gulp, slick sounds becoming slightly louder.
You finally pull back, sliding down until you’re sitting right on top of his painfully hard and sensitive cock, he hisses when he feels your warmth and wetness even through the fabric of his sweatpants. Your legs tremble, and you’re overly-sensitive, but feeling him growing hard just by having you sitting on his face washes you over with that oh-so-familiar feeling. Mind in a haze, you bring your hand up to your husband’s chin and gather all the wetness smeared all over his mouth and chin before you push your thumb into his mouth. Nanami obliges, parting his lips and sucking your finger clean before he presses a soft kiss to the tip of your finger.
“Nanami,” you let your chest meet with his, your hand trailing down on his body until you reach his cock—he gently takes your hand in his, pressing kisses to your knuckles. “No, love,” he is quick to deny you, more like deny himself, and your eyebrows knit together.
“Huh?”
“Just wanted to make you feel good,” he says with that hoarse tone of his voice. “Wanted to show you what you missed while spending your hours on that fucking desk and ignoring me.”
Your cheeks get flushed now that you know he has been thinking about this all day, how can you let your husband go to sleep with a painfully hard erection? You kiss his jawline before sliding even lower on the bed, eyes peering through your eyelashes as your head moves lower and lower. “I should apologize appropriately, then,” you murmur, fingers hooking around the waistband of his sweatpants. “That’d be only fair, given the circumstances, right?”
Breathlessly, Nanami chuckles—arm lazily thrown over his eyes for a minute or two before he sits up on the bed, helping you get down on your knees on the ground before grabbing you gently by your chin. “Fuck,” he murmurs, seeing your lips parted apart as you tug on his sweatpants. He leans down, spitting in your mouth as you’ve asked, and a gentle slap across your flushed cheek follows shortly after. “What am I going to do with you?”
#*꒰ঌ✦໒꒱ * ˚. ELAOFARC.#𝜗𝜚⋆ —collection; n. kento#𝜗𝜚⋆ —collection; married life!#✧˚ ༘ ⋆｡♡˚ mdni.#jjk x reader#jjk anime#jjk nanami#jujutsu kaisen nanami#nanami kento#jjk smut#jujutsu kaisen smut#nanami x reader#nanami smut
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Tagged by @doeeyeseddie and @eddiebabygirldiaz for seven sentence Sunday! Since I haven’t been posting much for tag games lately, here’s significantly more sentences than that from bucktommy acquire a child au. Warning for mentions of past child abuse in Tommy’s family.
Tommy stares down at the dotted line, pen hovering, running the name through his head over and over again and feeling kind of stupid for it. There’s no meaningful difference, at this point, between this last signature and any other of the seemingly dozens of pieces of paper they’ve signed tonight. Nothing really counts until Buck hands it over to the lawyer on his way to work tomorrow. He could sign and then tear the thing up, toss it in the trash. Find someone better to take this on. Take his name out of it, at the very least, hand the kid over to Evan entirely.
Evan, sitting next to him close enough that their knees are pressed tougher, bony, under the table. “What are you thinking?”
Tommy sighs and sets the pen down, tilting his head back to look up at the ceiling. “Can’t we just use… I don’t know, Diaz? I don’t want to give the poor kid my name.”
Buck laughs, just a little, still mostly serious. “I mean, I’m sure Eddie’d say yes if we asked, but- You gave me your name, why’s it a problem now?”
Tommy slides his fingers between Buck’s, surprised as he always is at how well they fit together. “You’re an adult, you can- handle it, carry it. Kinard children have historically been miserable things.”
Evan tilts his head, probably thinking about what Tommy is thinking about: Tommy, beat by his dad who was beat by his dad who was beat by- etc, etc, going back the entire horrible line of them. He’s imagined it before, some medieval peasant kid somewhere, crying into a hay bale or whatever the fuck it is poor folk slept on back then. Evan’d probably know. Maybe farther back than that. A caveman all the other cavemen side-eyed ‘cause he threw his kid in the path of a sabertooth or something.
“Okay,” is what Evan says. “I could get all pop psychology about, like, breaking cycles or whatever, but actually-” he points down the hall. “When I put him to bed tonight he talked literally right up until he was unconscious about all the stuff we saw at the zoo today, that I was in fact there for. Passed out mid word about how we got ice cream and saw a bird. Just a regular bird, that pigeon that landed on the table next to us. I think he was as excited about that as he was about, like, actual lions.”
Tommy laughs, despite his mood. “He was excited about the pigeon.” Milo had been so fascinated by it his ice cream had mostly melted by the time they could successfully prompt him to eat it.
Buck grins. “That kid- our kid- is happy, Tommy. Another talking point? How you carried him everywhere. He got to be so tall, he said you showed him everything.”
“I always hated being too short to see past crowds of people,” Tommy says quietly. “All those legs, everybody strangers.”
“I think most kids hate that,” Buck nods. He leans in to kiss Tommy’s cheek. “You’re not having second thoughts about this?”
“No,” Tommy says, immediate, breathy like it got punched out of him. “No. More than sure.”
Evan nods again. “He’s happy, and safe, and loved because of you. Sign the paper. It’s just a name, and one that I like very much actually.”
“Just a name,” Tommy raises an eyebrow. “So you would’ve been fine with him becoming a Buckley if we had done this the other way?”
“Oh, fuck no,” Buck says, face twisting up lemon-sour as Tommy laughs.
“You hypocrite.”
“Hey, you should have come up with a new name when you married me,” Buck sticks his tongue out, leaning back in his chair like a pleased cat. “Combined them maybe? We could have been… the Binards?”
Tommy squints at him. “No.”
“The Kuckleys?”
“Evan,” Tommy snorts. “No- that’s terrible.”
Buck grins. “Yeah. We really should have just asked Eddie. All be Diazes, it’d fix everything.”
“Imagine the kid’s family tree project at school,” Tommy says, picking up the pen, signing his name as fast as he can before doubt creeps back in. “We’re gonna have to teach him the words ‘non-conventional family structure’.”
Buck laughs and laughs, leaning into Tommy’s side until he kisses up the sound.
Tagging @shitouttabuck @bigfootsmom @iinryer @chronicowboy @butchdiaz @homerforsure if ya got anything to share!
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Genshin men as haikyuu characters in their respective teams!
kaeya, diluc, alhaitham, kaveh, childe, albedo, aether, ayato, kazuha, itto, thoma, venti, cyno
in honor of the haikyuu movie, i shall present to you a short headcannon of genshin men and their preserved vb team in the haikyuu universe~
KARASUNO:
What makes karasuno different from other team is their team coordination. Their improvement begins from pressure, their ability to adapt towards the intimidation is amazing as it is, they are crows after all-and crows has no fierce in facing death.
Aether as Sugawara Koshi (Setter), Being a setter means that you’ll have to be the one to bring forward/push your teammates and i feel aether does the best job in this aspect.
Venti as Nishinoya Yu (Libero), Venti is somewhat a lifesaver, somebody you can depend on. Although you may or may not trust him due to how he works on “his way”. Still, if you’ve ever need him, he’ll come to your way and be there for you.
Itto as Tanaka Ryuu (Wing Spiker), both of them are hardworkers and despite both being kind of….dumb, they can be the best if they set their point into something.
Thoma as yamaguchi tadashi (middle blocker), Thoma isn’t exactly in the big picture, but he contributed a lot more than people think, just like yamaguchi. He’s not the centre of attention but he is the biggest reason why the team get along and can coordinate better.
NEKOMA:
What makes nekoma so different from other team is how they prioritise their strategy and they’re very team centralised instead of coach centralised. Like cats, they are tame in the outside but inside they are unhinged, somehow able to kill off the “untouch”.
Albedo as Kenma Kozume (setter), setting up a strategy and being the one to control the team-even giving critical notes if necessary in order to “improve” the team coordination. If that’s not albedo, i don’t know what is.
Kaeya as Kuroo Tetsuro (Middle blocker/Captain), kaeya is born with talent, physically and psychologically, he’s prepared to face such an obstacle in any strategy. He’s able to adapt easily and he can easily gain respect, he knows what to do and what he MUST do for the team.
Kazuha as Fukunaga Shohei (Wing Spiker), he’s not in the big picture of the team, neither does people know his name. But he contributed more points than the so called ACE, because he would try to improve himself and try to adapt to the strategy-he use the silence to coordinate himself better.
SHIRATORIZAWA:
What makes shiratorizawa different is how old fashioned they are. They focused more on the strong physical appearance and talent more than improvement. Eagles are known to be the peak of the food cycle, yet they can also face death, which means the peak of eagle can die anytime soon if they don’t adapt.
Diluc as Ushijima Wakatoshi (Wing Spiker/Captain), if diluc set his point into something he had wished to excel since the beginning, he will get it. He’s strong, especially with the support of his allies. Because he’s not exactly the supporter of the team, but the core. If there’s no diluc, then what is the team made of?
Childe as Satori Tendo (Middle blocker), childe’s passion is wreckage, he knew what he had to do to broke people’s pride. He has no limit. His adaptation and instinct is insane, hence he’ll be the back bone of diluc’s success.
Cyno as Tsutomu Goshiki (Wing spiker), Ambition and Skill is what cyno consists of. Ambition blinded him, but that’s also how good he is on becoming the soon to be best in the team. Cyno will (it’s a must on his dictionary) pursue his dream.
INARIZAKI:
What makes inarizaki different? This team has a total control of everything. The court and their audience, their control is as insane as it can be.
Alhaitham as suna rintarou (middle blocker), what is more suna than alhaitham. That man is the pinacle of “i’ll do whatever i want except i’m joking!! (I’m not)”. That man can analyse everybody, even the best out of the best, he plays within his ego-if he want to, he will. And he had set quite the name for himself, because he is alhaitham (duh).
Kaveh as Atsumu Miya (setter), he’s an ambitious prick, he wants to be the best due to the pride of being one of the best. He doesn’t know his limit because he’s blinded by certain boundaries in order to be somebody more than what he aspires to be.
Ayato as kita shinsuke (wing spiker/captain), if being the so called heart of the team is a role, then ayato is one to be called. He can stabilise and coordinate the team well enough, because his own skill sets upon his team. His control is his team.
#kaeya alberich#kaeya#kaeya fanfics#diluc fanfics#diluc#diluc ragnvindr#kaeya x reader#diluc x reader#childe fanfics#cyno fanfics#ayato x reader#ayato fanfics#albedo x reader#albedo fanfics#haikyuu fanfics#haikyuu#genshin impact#haikyuu headcannons#alhaitham fanfics#alhaitham x reader#albedo#alhaitham#kaveh x reader#kaveh#kaveh fanfics
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The way it has JUST dawned on me exactly why Mu Qing is so smug all the time about Xie Lian. The truth is that any time someone does something good for others, it ALWAYS comes back to bite them. Nobody is grateful, nobody is thankful, and most of the time you get physically hurt even trying. Mu Qing’s conclusion about this is “there is literally no point in being a good person because it will only get you hurt.” He sees this pattern and he knows he’s right, and he especially sees it with Xie Lian. Think about how fucking smug Fu Yao is in the sinners pit when he finds out about “General Hua” and Xie Lian’s “death.” This is just another instance of Xie Lian’s efforts for good only ever going to waste and him getting beat to death and back for thinking he can still save the common people. What’s his problem? Won’t this idiot ever learn his lesson? When he sees the dilapidated shrine and sad excuse for a living arrangement Mu Qing looks joyous. What joy could he possibly find in another man’s suffering? It’s because it proves that trying to play good guy gets you nowhere. Mu Qing left all those years ago to focus on himself and it got him to a top martial god spot in heaven. He’s clearly right about this! This proves it!
It’s so obvious he’s right. If you want to get anywhere in life, you have to stop worrying about being “good” or “kind” because it will never bring you good returns. That’s true….so why can’t Xie Lian understand that? If every single time he gets kicked down for trying to do something nice, why bother getting up and trying again? What is he trying to accomplish?
The difference is that Xie Lian is kind not for the returns but because it is innate to him. It’s not that he never thought about himself in the past, it’s just that he’s never had a second thought about people deserving kindness in the world. Getting shot down never breaks his spirit like it breaks Mu Qing’s. Mu Qing can’t fucking stand that. He can’t stand that Xie Lian is so genuinely selfless, that he was wrong about his perception of him all those years ago. He can’t stand that Xie Lian is still trying to help him even though he knows he won’t appreciate it. If he really was only doing it for merit and to feel good about himself then everything would be fine! But now he has to grapple with the fact that he’s looking at a really, genuinely, good person and he’s just another person who shot him down. He realizes he’s looking at someone who’s stronger than him, physically and emotionally, better than him morally, despite all his talk about how they’re not that different when really they’re leagues away.
(Some book 8 spoilers below)
It messed with the flow of the paragraph so I didn’t mention it earlier, but in that second paragraph, Mu Qing’s mindset sounds a lot like Jun Wu. Jun Wu is trying to prove to Xie Lian that his path of kindness and selflessness is stupid and that when people knock him down he can choose the other (lesser) path. I always say That Mu Qing is like a foil to Xie Lian (I think this is that explanation) but if Jun Wu and Xie Lian are connected in this way then it’s almost reasonable to bring Mu Qing along too. And it makes sense that he doesn’t shine as bright in this point of view between the three of them, just like he always has. There’s something here but it was a wake up in the middle of the night with a cold sweat and a revelation kind of thing so it’s not really fleshed out at all. We’ll deal with it later.
#it’s the juxtaposition between reading 10000 gods cave on my computer and banyue arc on my phone#tgcf#heaven official's blessing#tian guan ci fu#Mu Qing#xie lian
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False God | Chapter 1
Chapter Summary: Cooper tries to fill the hole in his heart by drowning himself in you.
Pairing: Pre-War!Cooper Howard x f!escort!reader
Chapter warnings: mentions of depression, angst, joking about cowboys in a sexy way ig??, thigh touching, alcohol consumption, brief allusions to masturbation (m)
Words: 3k
A/N: Welcome to the first chapter of my Cooper fic! I am so excited I was finally able to finish it and I hope you enjoy it as much as I enjoyed writing this <3
dividers by @saradika-graphics
Series Masterlist | Masterlist | AO3 Link
Cooper had grown used to the emptiness of his apartment. It was significantly smaller than his mansion in Los Angeles. He missed his garden and being able to spend hot summer days in the sun, enjoying a drink while he watched Janey play with Roosevelt.
The divorce wasn’t kind to him. When the entire process had first started, he had been trying to play it cool. Keep his composure, go on with his life as if nothing had happened – but that just didn’t work for him. His job used to be his anchor, but even that was a thing of the past now, considering that barely any studio wanted to affiliate themselves with a Vault-Tec sympathiser. None of them knew what he did after all. He didn’t even want to know what would happen if he brought the things he knew – or at least assumed about Vault-Tec – to the press and therefore to the public. Maybe everyone would call him crazy on top of it all.
But he couldn’t really risk his own life and more importantly Barb and Janey’s just to maybe have a chance at bringing an evil company down. If anything Barb had told him about the Vaults were true then he hoped that she and Janey would be safe when the bombs will fall. It wasn’t a question of ‘What iff’ for him anymore. He knew it would happen sooner or later. Somehow, he seemed to know it in his bones. And the political situation wasn’t really making him feel more positive about the whole ordeal.
In all the sitcoms and movies, they never seemed to talk about the emptiness one could feel after a divorce. His new apartment seemed empty despite the new furniture. The only beacon of hope he had was Roosevelt, but even the food from his fridge didn’t seem to taste the same. Cooper hadn’t been heartbroken since he finished High School. He never had the time for it and his marriage had eventually been just as he had always dreamed as a child. Barb and him rarely argued. Until it all slowly came to an end. Coop didn’t know how to live on his own anymore.
He was surviving off a few small gigs at parties, always donning his iconic cowboy outfit. Of course, he wasn’t oblivious to the whispers behind his back.
‘Look what he has to resort to now..’
‘That is Cooper Howard?’
Cooper tried to shut all their voices out of his head. He had enough to worry about already. Paying his aliments to Barb, paying his rent, trying to stay afloat – somehow.
If his days were lonely, all of his nights spent alone seemed to be even worse. That’s where he had time to think and he didn’t want to think about everything that was going on around him. His cigarettes and the whiskey stored in his fridge quickly became his best friends during all those lonely nights. But they still didn’t fill the gaping hole he seemed to carry in his chest. Everything felt meaningless. Life was only a combination of small moments anymore.
All the good moments he had were the days with his daughter, but there was nothing else that could really make Cooper feel happy or fulfilled.
He craved the feeling of waking up next to a woman again. To feel her kiss him in the morning and to touch her body. This almost reminded him of how he felt as a green teenager, when he had only dreamed about having someone at his side.
It wasn’t really a surprise to him that his hand didn’t feel the same as a woman’s touch did. Gosh, he even rummaged through a few boxes to pull up old pornographic holo-tapes, but even those didn’t really do it for him anymore. At least now how they used to in the past.
His next decision was really a manifestation of his desperation.
Coop stared at the newspaper on his kitchen counter. There were several ads on the page and one of them was able to offer just what he wanted. He took a deep breath, staring at the phone on his wall and then turning his gaze back to the number on the paper.
His last gig had paid rather well and he thought that calling a sex worker might fill the hole in his chest for just a few hours. A few years ago, he could have never imagined going this far, but… he was lonely – and desperate in a way. Sex would take his mind off things and give him enough of an illusion for one night. More than the whiskey could.
“It’s worth a try...” He mumbled to himself and then started to type the number into his phone.
Business had been quiet the last few days. You couldn’t exactly pinpoint why that might be, but you were glad when a call came in eventually. Sex work wasn’t really something society seemed to be proud of, but you knew the numbers of lonely men that called your and other women’s numbers were significantly higher than most people would expect.
It wasn’t just you working here. Multiple women operated under the “Sweet Nights” brand. You were just a small part in the great scheme of things.
Your work certainly paid enough for you to entertain a decent, but not overly luxurious life in Los Angeles. Your small apartment was nothing compared to the big mansions up in Beverly Hills. Yet it was enough.
The red lipstick stood in contrast to your black dress, correcting its straps around your shoulders as soon as Jimmy, the manager of “Sweet Nights”, informed you of your next client. This would be the first and the last for your day, considering that it had been a pretty quiet week night for everyone. On the weekend, calls were more much frequent and you could sometimes do three clients in one day.
Every girl here had different prices. You were somewhere in the middle. Most middle-class men were able to book you, but sometimes, a man wanted to take you out for more than just sex for which you were able to demand a higher price. If you were honest, you preferred that to the simple act of offering sex and then leaving again. You certainly didn’t want to turn down a nice dinner at a fancy restaurant which was probably the best part your job had to offer.
“Is Alan going to drive me?” You asked. Alan was the driver you had worked with the most so far. He was always in a good mood and often enough, he even lifted yours as well. You would share a cigarette or two before or after a client and he’d sometimes even drive you bring some food for you to enjoy after work. Alan was probably your best friend in this business, if you thought about all the people you’ve encountered so far. You got along well with some other women in here as well, but you couldn’t call those intimate friendships.
Sustaining a relationship was also not an easy task given the nature of your job. So far, you hadn’t really been that lucky to find a man accepting of your situation, but you were of the firm belief that you could never know what was going to happen in the future.
“I think so. You still have half an hour, so take it slow.” Jimmy was always kind to you as well, but he did have the attitude of a businessman. Nothing made him more happy than seeing the cash flow in and while you were always on time and working hard, you had seen him treat other women differently – especially the ones that weren’t on time and not bringing in a lot of money.
You had been working at the “Sweet Nights” establishment for multiple years, so you had generated a few regular clients with time. For a man like Jimmy, there was rarely anything better. It meant a steady cash flow and for you, it meant being able to spend time with people you already knew in a way and they usually didn’t make you uncomfortable at all. However, getting attached was strictly forbidden. You didn’t want to breach the border between your professional life and your private one.
Jimmy took his leave rather quickly then, leaving you to your preparations. You made sure to take your birth control before you were heading out, not wanting to risk forgetting it on accident if you were to stay the night at the client’s.
Alan was already waiting for you at the door when you made your way to the car. “Hello, beautiful,” he greeted you, placing a small kiss on the back of your hand before he helped you into the passenger seat of the black car.
Soft jazz music was playing through the radio as you drove to the client’s apartment. It wasn’t too far away from the “Sweet Nights” establishment as you were able to arrive there in under ten minutes. The apartment block in front of you looked simple and it made you quite certain that your client was probably part of the middle class. You had been to fancier homes, but it felt good to be able to ring a bell without going through two security checks on your way inside.
Alan always took his time to wait until you were safely inside. There had been a few times where a client didn’t open the door and your friend drove you home instead.
But this wouldn’t be one of those nights.
When you pushed against the door, it opened for you. You turned around briefly to wave goodbye at your driver, before heading up the stairs to the apartment on the second floor. The sound of your high heels echoed off the beige walls and as you looked up the staircase, you could already see a man waiting by the apartment door.
You always tried to meet your clients without any specific expectations towards them, but when the man came fully into view, you could feel your heart skip a beat. This wasn’t just any man. This was Cooper Howard.
Ex-Movie Star and a new favourite topic in every local gossip magazine. You had read about his divorce as it was almost impossible to avoid the matter these days. Additionally, you were pretty sure you had seen just about every movie he had ever starred in.
“Good evening,” you greeted him, the smile coming to you quite easily as you thought of the fond memories you had from watching his movies. Cooper extended his hand to you almost immediately, shaking it in a gentle manner. “Good evening to you too. Feel free to come inside.” His smile was a polite one as he stepped to the side and let you in.
His apartment clearly wasn’t anything you expected from America’s most famous cowboy, but you knew times were probably a bit rougher for him now. There were a few paintings along the hallway wall, but the interior was nothing fancy. It wasn’t cheap either, but your job had brought you to many Hollywood mansions before and this apartment didn’t have even the slightest resemblance to any of them.
Cooper walked past you slowly. After so many years of working as an escort, you could tell that this was his first time. He looked a little lost, shy even. You were not here to judge about it though, you were here to make him feel good.
“Would you like something to drink? Wine perhaps?” You followed him into the kitchen, watching him as he let his hands restlessly move over the edge of the kitchen island. His face was still displaying the same smile he had greeted you with, but there was clearly a nervousness to his eyes. They were frantically moving from the counter to you and back again.
“Wine is good. I don’t really have a preference,” you assured him with a smile, leaning against the other side of the counter. He gave you a quick nod before he looked for two wine glasses and searched through a small cupboard to retrieve a new bottle for you both.
When the two glasses were filled, you leaned forward a little, supporting yourself against the counter as you looked at the man with a smirk. Cooper pushed your glass over to you, pointing at the living room next door then. “How about you… join me on the couch?”
His voice sounded strained and his hold around the glass seemed a little concerning for its fragility, but you didn’t hesitate to give the movie star an approving nod. “I would love to, Mr Howard.”
You could tell he tensed up a little at the mention of his name, so you quietly took note of that.
“Call me Cooper,” he offered, leading you into the small living room. While he sat down on the far left end of the couch, you didn’t bother to sit down on the opposite end. Instead, you got comfortable right next to him, a quick invitation that he could touch you if he wanted.
And Cooper did want to. But his mind was clouded with many things. This experience was completely new to him, but you were absolutely gorgeous in that black dress and he was very curious to see what was underneath it. He was only a man too after all, but–
You clinked your wine glass against his and he was pulled back into the reality of things. His eyes drifted over your body, a hint of longing appearing in them and you could feel yourself smile a little more at that. Cooper wasn’t showing you disinterest, but you could feel the insecurity inside him.
This job brought you close to many different people and you would be a fool to assume that Cooper wasn’t struggling with the divorce. This wasn’t a rare scenario at all – many men were asking for your services when they wanted to fill the hole left behind by their beloved wives.
While you took the first sip from your wine, you made sure to keep eye contact up with Cooper. It was enough to send a cold shiver down his spine and let his free hand claw at the arm rest of the couch.
He took a sip from his drink as well, before placing the glass down on the small table in front of him.
His lips parted for a moment, ready to form words, but you were quick to place a hand on his arm. Just a gentle touch. Not too much if he didn’t want it yet. “I know this is your first time. I can tell. And… we can do it all in whatever pace you’d prefer.”
For a moment, the man seemed a little surprised by your words, but his expression quickly changed to a softer one. “Thank you. I appreciate it. I’m–”
What was he even trying to say? Cooper didn’t want to come across as an inexperienced teenager or the like, but he also didn’t want to seem too desperate. Even though he was. His body was clearly desperate.
“It’s alright.” Maybe a little bit of light conversation might help him, so you took the time to let your eyes wander over his appearance. His brown hair was brushed back neatly and it definitely looked like he had shaved this morning. There was a simple, but beautiful ring adorning his finger, but you were sure it was not his former wedding band. His beige pants and the dark blue sweater were a lot more casual than your own outfit, but you had always been sure that Cooper Howard would look good in anything.
Would his movies be a good topic to start with? Tell him that you were a fan?
“I’ve loved your movies for years, you know?”
The look in his eyes changed. His curiosity seemed to give way to disappointment and hurt. Probably the wrong topic. Too sensitive or too personal.
Your throat seemed to tighten and you were ready to apologise when Cooper interrupted you.
“Isn’t it a strange thought that… I’m now asking you to have sex with me in a way?” His eyebrows were pushed together in confusion and you didn’t know how to answer at first.
Of course, it wasn’t what you had expected, but saying you were displeased with the idea would be a lie.
“No. It’s exciting, actually. Maybe cowboys have always been my thing.”
Cooper’s laugh was quite infectious. He had a big smile, a beautiful one too. His shoulders seemed to relax a little and he eventually put an his arm on the couch behind you.
“What’s the saying? Save a horse, ride a cowboy?” His voice had grown a little deeper and while you were still able to watch his right hand hold tightly onto the arm rest next to him, a little bit of doubt had probably left him.
You decided to weigh in on that.
“I would never say no to a man like you, of course. Definitely worth saving that horse.”
Another laugh.
For the first time in a while, the harmless banter seemed to clear his mind off a few worries. Yes, it was a sensitive topic, but you approached it with enough ease that it didn’t seem all that awful anymore to Cooper.
His left hand eventually moved down to your thigh, gently holding onto it as he searched for your eyes again.
And before you could really think a lot about it, you kissed the former movie star, maybe a little too eager.
Yet he was all for it. Your lips felt like a relief he hadn’t experienced in a long time and as he leaned in for more, he was certain that if nothing else could drown out the worries in his mind, your lips would surely be able to quiet his thoughts – even if it was just temporary.
#cooper howard x reader#cooper howard x you#cooper howard fanfic#cooper howard fanfiction#cooper howard smut#cooper howard#cooper howard headcanons#cooper howard imagine#prewar!cooper#the ghoul x reader#the ghoul x you#fallout show#fallout amazon#fallout tv series#fallout series#walton goggins
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