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jasmines-library · 4 months

Note

Hello sugar <3! (im very sorry if theres any spelling errors, english isnt my first language <3)

I would love to request some angst/comfort with the batfam? Maybe with the reader (tw: sa, rape) struggling with some sexual assault/rape issues, something they haven't told the family yet? The reader acting different for weeks, months even, and the whole family being suspicious and noticing their sudden fear of being cornered, touches and certain smells maybe?

its totally fair if you don't feel like it, I just really really love your way of writing the characters, and your writing over all. I swear, i swallowed your whole page in the matter of a few hours, I loved every second!

Kristy, Are You Doing Okay?

Note: My gosh im so sorry this literally took me over a month to get to, but it's here. I'm so glad you like my page and thank you for requesting! (Title name from song)

Warnings: SA, r*pe (non explicit but this fic deals with the aftermath. Please read with caution.), Panic attack of sorts.

Word count: 2.1K

⛤ BATFAM MASTERLIST ⛤

Please remember, if you are ever struggling you are not alone. It may be difficult at first but there are many places for you to reach out to, many of which are anonymous and do not need the involement of of name, if you are just needing for someone to talk to. There will always be someone out there to help you. As an alternative, my DM’s are always open for a chat! Remember: You are loved and you are so much stronger than you realise.

⛤

You hadn’t meant to drift away. It sort of just…happened. And it wasn’t even something you were conscious of really. The thoughts were just constantly there and you couldn’t shake the feeling of his hands roaming all over his body; the ghostly touch of his fingers lingering flush against your skin, burning an invisible bruise into your flesh. You tried to shy away from it but it was always there, buried into the front of your mind festering away like an old, unforgotten wound oozing with pus and blood that would only create more problems the longer it was left.

The night it happened was cold and bitter. A shallow fog had cast itself over the city as you staggered back to the manor with makeup running carelessly down your face. You shut yourself away, turning the lock on your door and burying yourself under the covers to try and shy away from the situation. But it never left. It just kept growing, weeding its way back through the open cracks like a stubborn plant that refused to leave no matter how many times you doused it with poison. You didn’t sleep that night. And you didn’t leave your room the day after. In fact the only time anyone saw you that day was when you slunk downstairs in the middle of the night to try and revive the growling of your stomach without having to see anyone when you bumped into Tim who was finally dragging himself up to bed. The interaction was odd. At first he thought that you had just been busy all day and that was why no one had seen you: It wasn't uncommon for one of you to disappear into your room for a few days to catch up on school work or to finally get more than 4 hours of sleep. But something about you was off. You were quiet and lacking that charisma that usually shone from you. You were jumpy too, recoiling as soon as Tim rounded the corner unexpectedly.

When you finally managed to bring yourself out of your room, you were still withdrawn. Instead of donning your normal seat next to Jason at the table, you sat at the end alone pushing your food aimlessly around the plate until someone had finished eating and you took that as a cue to leave. You didn’t mean to leave them in the dark. Really, you didn’t but the thoughts crept into your mind every time they got near. Every hand outstretched sent a shiver crawling down the nape of your neck as if someone was running an ice cold digit along your spine. The thoughts were worse. Intruding. Obnoxious. You felt so…dirty. And your mind seemed to like to make sure you remembered that. You couldn’t help but feel like somehow the whole situation was your fault, which of course it wasn’t, but you were stuck with being guilt ridden; trapped within your walls.

Your skittishness didn’t go unnoticed. The boys tried many times to talk to you or to get you alone, but each time one of them hastily trailed after you as you slunk out of a room you would pick up your pace until they got the hint and stopped dejectedly in the halls. You had just skittered off into another part of the manor when Damian decided he had finally had enough.

He pushed his way back into the library rather frustratedly, stomping his feet so hard against the floor that they continued to pound through the room even as he moved from the polished wood to the carpet amongst the centre of the room. His brothers were still lounging around the room, their legs slung carelessly over the arms of the chairs or folded beneath them as they engrossed themselves in their phones or an ever growing pile of books. They barely even acknowledged that Damian had even returned from his pursuit of use, besides lifting their gaze as he huffed his way back into the room.

“Something is wrong with Y/N.” Damian declared, planting his feet into the carpet in the centre of the room and placing his hands on his hips.

Dick felt as though he could laugh. Damian’s statement was so obvious that you may as well have had a huge, yellow sign above your head that screamed ‘i’m not okay.’ It didn't matter how much effort you put into trying to hide the bags that dropped across your skin, or the way that you couldn’t stand to be in the same room with any of them for too long without your skin crawling, they were prominent amongst your saddened features. “Yeah, No shit.”he said, looking up from his phone that he had been mindlessly scrolling on to distract himself from the feeling that gnawed at his gut.

The room fell into a pregnant silence before Damians angry scoff broke the silence.

“That’s it? That’s all you’re going to say?” He spat. “You’re not worried?”

Jason pushed himself up onto his forearms and spoke out defensively. “Of course we’re worried… It’s just…”

“What?”

“She won’t let us help her, Dami.” Tim said. “We’ve tried, but each time she’s run.”

“Well then try harder!” He said. It was unusual for the youngest Wayne to react this way when it came to his siblings. But, then again it was unusual for you to shy away like this and although Damian would never admit it, he had a soft spot for you and seeing you hurting like this killed him a little inside.

“Damian.” Dick reprimanded sternly.

He sighed and swallowed thickly. “I’m sorry. I just can’t see them suffering like this anymore.”

There was a general agreement between the four of them. Tim chewed away at his bottom lip as he thought for a moment. “What do you propose we do?”

The whole room seemed to think together as one for a moment.

“We corner them.” Damian said. It might have seemed cruel, but it was the only thing he could think of that would stop you from slipping away again. “If they keep running there’s no way we’re going to be able to help, so we just have to compromise.”

You knew that Jason was behind you. You could hear his careful footsteps, evenly spaced by his long strides as he tried to catch your attention. He was loitering outside of your room, trying to catch you as you left. It surprised you to see him as you peeled open the door. You had flashed him as much of a grin as you could muster up as he greeted you, trying to draw you into a one sided conversation that you were itching to get away from the moment it started. You tried to remind yourself that it was just Jason. That he wasn’t going to hurt you. But your mind still thought it was funny to play cruel tricks on you and soon you were making up a poor excuse and fleeing down the halls.

You didn’t make it far though before you collided with a tall figure marching down the other end of the corridor, who braced his hands on your shoulders. Yelping at the unexpected contact you spun on your heel to turn back the way you came only for your breath to get stuck in your throat when you were met with the red of Jason’s shirt. When you backed up, you collided with the eldest vigilante again. Spinning around frantically, you searched for a way out. There was none.

You were trapped.

The thought consumed you quickly, dragging you down like a ton of bricks tied to your ankles until you were drowning in the thought of being imprisoned again. It was all you could think of. It screamed throughout your mind, pumped in your blood. It was nauseating. You could see the other two approaching and panic set into your already scrambled mind. You weaved, trying desperately to spot an exit but the two vigilantes were much bigger than you and their hefty frames took up most of the corridor.

“No. No no no.” You rambled as your heart rate skyrocketed and your breathing came in sporadic, panicked gasps.

Tim furrowed his brow. He didn’t think you would react like this. He reached out to grasp your forearms to ease your shaking body, but you nearly screamed, yanking your arms away from him and backing up against the wall.

“Don’t touch me!” You stuttered, barely audible between your spiralling state. Fat, hot tears tracked along your face as you sunk to the ground to bury your face within your knees which you clutched to your chest.

The four boys exchanged an anxious glance.

“Y/N…”

“Please…” You gasped. “Stay away from me. I-I can’t anymore… no more. Please.”

“Y/N? What's wrong?” Dick queried. “Talk to us, please. We want to help.”

“No…” You whimpered.

Damian squatted down beside you resting on the balls of his feet before reaching out slowly towards you, ignoring the warning glance that Jason sent his way, and placing it gently on your shoulder.

Flinching, you squeezed your eyes shut. He could feel the way you trembled like a leaf under his touch but he didn’t let go.

“It’s just me Y/N. It’s Dami.”

You registered his words, but you still felt like you were back in that room. You allowed your body to relax just the smallest amount.

“It’s just us, kid. You’re okay.” Dick cooed.

You sniffled. The four of them were crouched around you now.

“You can trust us.”

Your body tensed as you were hit with reminders of that night. The way he had led you away to commit his act of betrayal that would cut deeper than a thousand knives.

“That’s what he said.” You hiccuped.

“Who?” Tim asked tenderly. “Talk to us Y/N.”

You shook your head, biting down on your lip. You didn’t want to bring up the memory stuck in your mind.

“Kid… we can’t help you if we don’t know what’s happening.”

“He- he… took me away from the crowds… He said to trust him- and I thought I could. B-but then he-” Your voice split into an unholy sob.

“Oh..Y/N/N…” Dick said, suddenly understanding.

“I can’t stop thinking about it. I can still feel him. Hear him. Just make it stop please!.” You begged, sobbing into your hands.”

“It’s okay. You’re safe.” He told you, reaching out gently to place a hand on your forearm, you tensed slightly but didn’t pull away. “We’re not going to let anyone hurt you. Ever.”

“We promise.”

You peeled your head away from your arms to reveal your bloodshot, teary eyes. From close up they could see how clearly the ordeal had taken a toll on you. Not just on your body but your mind too.

It took some convincing and a lot of gentle touches of reassurance to get you off of the floor, but the four of them managed to ease you back into your room. They refused to leave you alone after that. Insisting that at least one of them stay by your side at all times until you decided on your own terms that you were ready to take the next step in your recovery and stay the night alone. It was a slow process, but each small milestone made them extremely proud of you. They were there when you awoke suddenly in the middle of the night, crying and shaking, and they were there when you managed to move forwards too. They were there to remind you that recovery isn’t linear, and that it was okay to move backwards. It’s all part of the process. The four of them showed you a different kind of gentleness that you had never seen before, and they tried their hardest to bring a smile to your face everyday. And it was their kindness that began to wash away those feelings. It was them who made you realise that you were loved, strong and would find your way back from the darkness and into the light.

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voidpetrova · 8 months

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all mine — derek hale x reader

☄. *. ⋆

content warnings and genre: swearing, alcohol consumption, p in v sex, vampire!reader, rivalry trope, creampie, sadism, requested fic!!

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

synopsis: he needs recruits for his pack, you need recruits for a pack of your own. the town is big enough for only one supernatural phenomenon, but you refuse to go down without a fight.

✧.*

the night air was thick with tension as you prowled through the dimly lit streets of beacon hills. moonlight spilled onto the asphalt, casting long shadows that danced around you. you were far from the usual supernatural resident of this town. you had no pack, no allegiances, and no high-and-mighty purpose. your existence was fueled by something simpler, more primal—you relished the act of feeding on humans.

stiles and scott, your two unlikely friends, often warned you about the dangers lurking in the supernatural world, and tonight had proven their point. they were your allies in this strange town, and while you didn't exactly need their protection, you enjoyed their company. the trio had faced numerous challenges together, but tonight, you were in the spotlight. derek hale, the brooding alpha werewolf, had been pursuing you relentlessly. he saw you as a potential recruit for his pack, a means to strengthen his power. however, you had no intention of bowing to his authority or becoming a pawn in his game.

tonight, the confrontation reached its climax in a desolate alleyway. derek, muscles rippling beneath his taut skin, blocked your path. the full moon accentuated his fierce demeanor, his eyes gleaming with a predatory glint as he growled, “join my pack, or face the consequences.” you sneered, your lips curving into a wicked smile. your voice dripped with the an almost seductive arrogance as you purred, “consequences? darling, you really don't know who you're dealing with, do you?”

his nostrils flared, and he lunged at you, his claws extended. in the blink of an eye, you moved, a blur of motion, easily sidestepping his attack. his fist struck the brick wall with a resounding thud, creating a shower of debris. the alpha stumbled backward, wincing in pain.

with a self-satisfied smirk, you approached him, your eyes gleaming with a mischievous glint. “derek, darling, let me make something clear. i'm not joining your pack. in fact, i'm here for recruits of my own. i have no noble agenda like yours—i simply have the need to feed.”

derek's rage and frustration were evident, but he couldn't move, couldn't speak. you had compelled him, and he was left powerless to resist. as he helplessly watched you, his hatred slowly morphed into something entirely different—a fascination that burned brighter with each passing moment.

your smile widened, a predatory glint in your eyes. “so, derek, are you curious yet? i have a feeling you and i could have a lot of fun together.”

and in that alleyway, under the watchful gaze of the moon, an unexpected connection began to take root—an alliance fueled by mutual curiosity, defiance, and the allure of the supernatural world that surrounded them.

the tension between you and derek lingered in the air, palpable and charged. he remained on the ground, pinned not by physical force but by your compelling presence. you exuded an aura of enigmatic allure, a dangerous beauty that drew him in like a moth to a flame.

derek's anger, once fierce and unyielding, had transformed into an intricate web of conflicting emotions. he found himself captivated by your honesty, or perhaps it was the brazen way you embraced your darkness that intrigued him. it was a quality he rarely encountered in the supernatural world—a ruthless pragmatism that echoed his own.

his breaths came in shallow, uneven gasps as your words slithered through his mind. he could feel the delicate tendrils of your compulsion wrapping around his thoughts, and he was powerless to resist. there was a raw honesty to your confession, an unapologetic embrace of your true nature that struck a chord within him. “you—you're different," he stammered, struggling to find his voice. "most vampires i've encountered are colder, more ruthless.”

your laughter, like the tinkling of glass against glass, filled the alley. “i assure you, i can be just as ruthless when necessary. but what sets me apart is my honesty. i don't pretend to be something i'm not. i revel in the darkness that courses through my veins.”

the moonlight bathed you in an ethereal glow, casting a halo of radiance around your form. it was a stark contrast to the shadows that clung to derek, a constant reminder of the beast that resided within him. serek's eyes never wavered from yours, and in that moment, he realized that he was drawn to you in a way he couldn't fully comprehend. it was a dangerous attraction, one that defied logic and reason. he knew that aligning himself with you could lead to consequences he couldn't yet foresee, but he was willing to explore this uncharted territory.

with great effort, he pushed himself to his feet, his movements cautious and deliberate. “i won't join your pack,” he said, his tone resolute. “but i won't stand in your way either.”

and so, in that alleyway bathed in moonlight, a fragile truce was born. two supernatural beings, bound by their dark desires and their defiance of the norms of their respective worlds, began a dance of intrigue and temptation. the world of beacon hills had just become a little more complicated, and derek hale found himself entangled in a web of shadows, drawn by the enigmatic allure of the vampire who refused to conform to the rules of their supernatural existence.

in the days that followed that fateful night in the alley, derek found himself unable to shake the allure of your presence. he watched from the shadows as you moved through beacon hills, a graceful and deadly predator in your own right. it was a stark contrast to his own pack, where strength and dominance were measured in more traditional ways.

he observed you with a mixture of fascination and trepidation, like a moth hovering on the edge of a flame. there was a certain elegance to your brutality, a refinement in the way you dispatched your victims. it was as if you took pleasure not only in the act of feeding but also in the artistry of it all.

one evening, he watched you from a distance as you entered a dimly lit bar, the neon sign flickering above the entrance. you sat alone at the bar, a glass of crimson liquid in hand. it was a curious sight—the vampire who reveled in the darkness, seeking solace in the anonymity of a human establishment. derek couldn't help but wonder what thoughts swirled within your enigmatic mind as you sipped your drink.

as the night wore on, he approached the bar, taking a seat a few stools away from you. you acknowledged his presence with a sidelong glance, a faint smile playing at the corners of your lips. the air between you crackled with unspoken tension, a palpable awareness of the connection that was slowly forming.

“you seem to have a fascination with me, derek,” you purred, your voice as smooth as silk. “or is it curiosity?” he didn't respond immediately, choosing instead to study you with those intense, cobalt eyes. “maybe it's a bit of both,” he admitted finally. “you're unlike anyone I've ever met.”

your laughter was low and sultry, sending shivers down his spine. “that's because i refuse to be confined by the rules of our kind. i embrace my nature without apology, and that terrifies some.” derek nodded in understanding. he knew all too well the weight of expectations and the burden of legacy that came with being an alpha. but here, in the presence of a vampire who was unapologetically herself, he felt a sense of liberation, a flicker of something he had long buried beneath layers of responsibility.

days turned into weeks, and your encounters with derek became more frequent. he found himself drawn to your boarding house, a place that exuded both elegance and darkness. the scent of bourbon hung in the air as you sat in solitude, contemplating the world beyond the shadows.

one evening, he joined you on the porch, the creak of the wooden floor beneath his boots breaking the silence. he held out a bottle of bourbon, a silent offering. you accepted it with a nod of appreciation, pouring a generous amount into your glass.

“sometimes,” you began, your voice soft and reflective, “i wonder if it's all worth it. this existence, the darkness that consumes us. but then, i take a sip of this,” you raised your glass, the amber liquid catching the moonlight, “and i remember why i embrace it.” derek studied you, his gaze searching for answers to questions he couldn't quite articulate. “we all have our demons,” he said finally. “our own reasons for living in the shadows.”

a knowing smile tugged at the corners of your lips. “that we do, derek. and perhaps, in each other, we've found a kindred spirit—one who understands the allure of the darkness and the beauty that can be found within it.”

and so, in the quiet moments shared on that moonlit porch, derek hale and the vampire with the seductive allure formed a bond that transcended the boundaries of their supernatural worlds. it was a connection forged in the fires of curiosity and defiance, a fragile thread that held the promise of something deeper, something neither of them had anticipated.

a few weeks into your growing connection with derek, you decided to make a memorable entrance at the local bar. you had a reputation for leaving a lasting impression, and this night would be no exception. the bar was buzzing with activity when you walked in, the dim lighting casting a seductive haze over the patrons. a tray of martinis passed by, and with a swift, graceful movement, you snatched one from it, the crystal glass glistening in your hand. all eyes turned toward you as you made your way through the crowd, exuding an air of effortless confidence.

stiles, always the first to dive headfirst into any opportunity, was the first to approach you. he leaned in intimately from behind, his breath warm against your ear as he whispered, “fancy a game of pool?” you turned to meet his gaze, a wicked gleam in your eyes. “why not?” you replied with a playful smile.

stiles's hand found its way to your waist, his touch possessive as he guided you toward the pool table. as you bent over to line up your shot, he leaned in even closer, his chest pressing against your back. the scent of his arousal hung in the air, and you couldn't help but chuckle at his audacity.

meanwhile, derek watched from a distance, his jaw clenched with a mixture of frustration and jealousy. he could smell Stiles's arousal, and it gnawed at him, igniting a fierce possessiveness deep within him. unable to contain his emotions any longer, he strode forward, his movements predatory. he reached out, firmly snatching your wrist and pulling you away from the pool table and stiles's grasp. with an apologetic glance at stiles, you allowed derek to guide you through the crowded bar and out into a nearby alleyway.

the cold night air hit you both as you stood in the dimly lit alley, the sounds of the bar fading into the background. derek's eyes bore into yours, his voice low and demanding. “you don't belong to anyone, especially not him.” you met his intensity with a challenging gaze of your own. “i don't belong to anyone, derek. i told you, i make my own choices.”

his grip on your wrist tightened, his anger and frustration evident. “i won't let him touch what's mine.” the possessiveness in derek's voice sent a shiver down your spine, and a dangerous smile curled your lips. “oh, der, i'm not anyone's to claim. but perhaps,” you leaned in closer, your lips brushing against his ear, “you can convince me otherwise.”

in the alleyway, amid the tension and desire that crackled in the air, a new layer of complexity was added to your evolving connection with derek. the dynamics within the beacon hills supernatural circle had shifted, and as the night continued, the flames of intrigue and temptation burned brighter than ever.

you liked the way his breath felt on your neck. warm, but still somehow able to raise goosebumps across the surface. it was the same way his touch ignited fire, yet left coldness in its wake. he made you dizzy with his attention to detail, the way he'd leave your head spinning and vision blurry all because he knew exactly what buttons to press and when to press them. he was rough, and yet careful, like every move was calculated in an effort not to cause you unnecessary pain, and he never left any unintentional bruises. he made you feel intoxicated by the taste of his tongue—sometimes, his spearmint toothpaste and sometimes, you. he was god-like, when he had you like that, and you knew he liked the power trip—to feel superior in this one part of his life he could control.

he pressed his lips against yours, stubble prodding at your soft cheeks as his lips melted against yours. it started off slow and sensual, but only for a splot second. his right hand grabbed your wrists, pinning them above your head as he pushed you into the wall. you struggled against his touch, but against the lust that fueled his every move, you were unable to pull your wrists out of his grip.

“you're not going anywhere,” he purred against your ear. you struggled some more, but for the first time in forever, you gave up. you gave up and succumbed to him. “just like that, that's good.” you stopped resisting, finally melting into his touch completely. he smiled against the crook of your neck, stubble littering goosebumps against his skin as he peppered kisses against your neck. you bit back a moan when the kissing turned into sucking, his teeth pulling on your soft skin, popping vessels and leaving bruises that threatened to stay for a while.

you felt weak under his touch, the hairs on your neck standing up as you felt the straps of your tank top slide down your arms. derek's rough, veiny fingers hooked each strap as he pulled them down, revealing your lacy bra as you slipped out of the top. he couldn't help but grunt at the sight of your tits bursting out of your bra, his hands involuntarily rushing to your boobs. he could only toy with them in awe, your moans bringing him pleasure. never had you been able to imagine yourself so powerless, especially not in his presence.

“what's the matter, princess?” he practically taunted, his voice thick with lust as he licked the outline of one of your breasts, the tip of his tongue tracing your nipple before engulfing it whole. “cat got your tongue?” you couldn't help but tug at his locks of black hair, a gasp passing your lips despite your best efforts to bite back your moans.

“i've had better, hale,” you retorted, a small smirk painting your lips as his piercing gaze shot upwards, meeting yours. he was all but pleased with your answer, and he proved that by tugging at your nipple with his teeth, provoking a sensation that was flooded with pain and pleasure. it was his turn to smirk.

he had you crying in a matter of seconda. he had his palm splayed over your mouth, your cute little cries muffled while he bullied his thick cock into your pussy. your nails scraped at his back, marking his broad muscles with your desperation. he was so big and mean—didn't let you move, didn't let you speak, whispering in your ear, telling you to take it. to take what's yours and be his good little bitch. he bit your neck, running his teeth along your skin, telling you all you’re good for is warming his cock. when he finally lost himself in the feeling of your fleshy cunt squeezing around his dick, he told you to pick a number. “six,” you barely managed a whisper. he forced you to count all his hard strokes in your cunt until tears started to spill onto the slope of your cheeks, until you were gritting your teeth at how deep he was fucking you, until you were finally screaming as he came, spilling his white sticky cum into the used pocket of your pussy.

“you okay?” he asked, his voice soft and low, little strands of hair clinging to his forehead while he stared at the way his cum spilled out your pussy, dripping lewdly into your soft, moist folds. you nodded weakly, gasping as he collected the cum out of your pussy onto his finger, licking the sticky white liquid with a sadistic smile.

he knew that if you were still conscious, he must not have gone hard enough.

#tw #teen wolf #teen wolf smut #teen wolf imagine #teen wolf angst #teen wolf fluff #teen wolf x reader #derek hale #derek x reader #derek hale x reader #derek hale smut #derek hale angst #derek hale fluff #derek hale x reader smut

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disneyprincemuke · 5 months

Text

midnights, 10 * mv1

the 2023 season has ended and geri horner has made the mistake of inviting you to a house party where max is in attendance

pairings: max verstappen x fem!reader

warnings: swearing again huhuhu

notes: the real reason i procrastinated this is because i'm a loser and can't come to terms with the fact that this series is ending like HUUUUH

(series masterlist)

(prev)

you stare at the well-lit home, lips pressed together as you debate in your mind how much right you still have to be here. sure, you were personally invited by geri horner despite knowing about the breakup recently like everybody else, but you’re not quite sure if you belonged.

after all, you’re not max’s girlfriend anymore, and this is more of a team party to celebrate the season. you’re sort of out of place.

by the side of the house, you can see the strobing lights reflecting off the walls and the music coming faintly coming through. it’s still early in the evening, which makes you tilt your head in confusion as to why the party has already started.

perhaps someone has already taken over the playlist to start the party earlier than planned by the hosts themselves. something tells you daniel and yuki are already in the backyard in fits of giggles over their music choices.

because you can very clearly make out the high-pitched tone of baby shark playing.

“(y/n)!” a disembodied voice says over the music, a familiar redhead walking on the grass of her front yard with her arms held open wide for you. “i’m so glad that you made it!”

realistically, you were not going to come at all. but when the older woman texted you about a week ago about not forgetting your work commitments within the area like you mentioned a couple of months ago, it was hard to reject her all together.

especially when she expressed to you how much she missed linking arms with you every other weekend with shallow and petty rumours you hear; wine glasses in your hands as your boys did the racing part of the weekend.

just one last hoorah for the better part of the past 6 years you had.

you never really got to thank geri for her neverending and unconditional hospitality all because you were max’s girlfriend.

“i wouldn’t miss it for the world!” you mimic her gush, smiling widely as you gladly take her in for an embrace. “i’m sorry i didn’t get to meet you earlier. i was swamped with meetings and presentation preps.”

“oh, don’t even worry about it,” geri laughs, waving your apologies off as she pulls away. “you know, christian promised a cute little performance tonight for the team?”

you raise your eyebrows. every year, christian horner hosts their annual year-end party in his home. and every year alike, he will tease everyone about some performance that he will be doing against his best wishes. they never come.

it gets max excited and giggly at the possibility, only to be disappointed at the end of the day.

“do you know if he will actually do it this time?”

geri links arms with you, hunching as a giggle passes her lips. “he said because you made the extra effort to come tonight, he’ll finally do it just for you.”

no. it’s because this is the last of their parties thrown you’ll ever attend.

when you put it like that, your heart kind of hurts. you had no idea how integral being on the paddock on race weekends was to you. not until today.

you feign a laugh, wiping your palms on your blouse. “tell christian i’m so touched.”

“don’t even worry about it,” geri laughs, squeezing your arm. “come on, let’s go to the backyard where everyone currently is. you arrived pretty early, so i’m guessing you’re not quite used to the organised chaos.”

max was never a diva unless it came to attending parties or being at the paddocks on time. it’s like he had a personal vendetta against coming early.

“yeah, i can hear daniel speaking coherently so that’s always a sign,” you grin, following her across the grass patch to the side of the house. you don’t plan to stay very long.

the reason you came before the actual party started is so that you can avoid max. at least you can tell yourself that you at least tried to avoid regression of all the progress you have made.

as you make your way into the backyard, loud squeals and shrieks slowly come in as you see christian’s kids running around. on the dj table is in fact daniel and yuki attempting a remix of the children’s song as they hype up the girls.

“oh, it’s (y/n)!” yuki throws his hands in the air, jumping off the elevated dj booth. he jogs over to you and immediately throws his arms around you. “i haven’t seen you in so long!”

“yuki!” you squeal, arms wrapped around him as he picks you up, spinning you around before putting you down gently. “i miss the way you cook for me, you know? i don’t quite do it the same as you.”

“i’ll send you the recipes!” yuki beams, pulling away from you. “and then you’ll have to let me try them someday — that’s my only rule.”

"you're the boss," you shrug jokingly, rolling your eyes playfully. yuki taps you on the shoulder politely, answering the screaming kids in the backyard.

he politely excuses himself, jumping onto the dj platform again.

"oh, hey, it's you!" you look up to meet daniel's eyes, the australian taking you into a tight hug as you sway side to side. "i've missed you."

"my god, hey," you hug him tightly, taking a deep breath before letting it out shakily. "i'm sorry i'm so bad at answering your texts! i've just been so busy and totally not in the mood to talk..."

daniel gives her an understanding smile, squeezing her shoulder. "you know, i totally get it. don't sweat it, mate."

"thank you. is heidi coming today?" you ask softly, looking around for the other woman's presence.

"a little later than usual. she's coming from work," daniel explains. he leads her towards a patio table, arm slung over her shoulder as they walk. "so, how have you been?"

"hey, look who decided to arrive!" liam laughs, beckoning the older driver towards the filled table. he lifts his bottle of beer up and sends max a small nod to welcome him. "how nice of you to join us!"

max scrunches his nose. "thank you," he lifts his hand to try and quiet down the cheering from the majority of the table, "no need to clap. i was going to come anyway."

"have you had dinner?" yuki asks, a plate in his hands with some food still. "the food is great."

liam chirps, pointing at the grill near the patio of the house. "lucky for you, there's still food from the barbecue earlier."

max smiles, shoving his hands into the pockets of his jacket. he takes the empty seat next to daniel. "if christian's the one who grilled them, i might have to lie and say i've already eaten dinner."

"don't be ridiculous," hannah laughs. "christian hasn't touched that grill as per geri's request for parties like these. you know who does the grilling this time of the year."

max tilts his head. it takes him a while to process, but when he realisation strikes him, he feels his heart sink in his chest. you were here?

he almost wants to just call another uber to go home knowing that he missed your presence at the party. every year at parties like these in christian's home, you're in charge of that grill.

simply because christian gets too caught up in conversation with those around him and only produces near burnt meat. everybody has apparently complained about it for years, but when you came into the picture, you kicked the team principal away from his food duties.

you're much more efficient with the grill, anyway.

hannah's jaw drops when she notices max's silence. she presses her lips together. "oh, i'm sorry. i didn't mean to-"

"it's alright," max smiles, dismissing her apology. "i just didn't know she attended."

"attended?" daniel snorts, leaning back in his seat. typically, daniel would never drop a fact he isn't sure you wanted out, but he's very wasted in his defence. "she's still here. geri called her in a while ago."

max's world starts to spin. this could be his chance. the only one left to make things right with you.

in fact, it didn't matter the outcome of the night. he just wanted to talk to you - see you one more time before he calls it quits on the hopes of ever having you back in his arms.

"she's still here?" max perks up, his hands gripping on the armrests of the patio seat like his life depended on it. he looks around the table, at liam, at hannah, everyone, but they don't give him an answer.

they just stare at him, lips parted as max's chest starts to heave from the simple thought of you being a few metres from him. he throws his hands in the air. "guys?"

"yes," yuki spits out, putting his plate on the table. "she is still here. she's inside the house with geri and the kids."

he breathes out shakily, scanning the exterior of the home. he nods, all the while he feels like his body is floating. he never thought he’d ever come by you ever again after everything that happened.

especially with all the rumours that can be taken out of proportion without you talking, it’s all definitely too much.

"oh, i need to talk to her," max says hurriedly, scrambling to get to his feet. he is only able to take one step away from the table when the lights go out and christian's voice is heard on the speakers set up at the dj booth.

he sighs, forced to sit back down again. of course this is the year christian decides to follow through with his promises to perform for the entire team.

daniel sighs, though a sloppy smile stretches his lips. "oooh, christian's going to get down and dirty," he mutters, wiggling in his seat while he giggles with his beer bottle right by his mouth.

that’s when he sees you, running out of the doors that lead to the backyard, surrounded by christian’s squealing and giggling children that sounded above the booming music. your hair is up in a claw clip, your fringe framing your face just as well.

while christian’s performance is something he’s been looking forward to his entire formula 1 career, he can’t help but bask in the overwhelming familiarity that washes over him at the sight of you.

you stop right before the table, the other end from him, hands wrapped around geri’s arm as you watch christian in awe.

his entire world stops then and there, suddenly unsure of how to approach you. will he really be able to handle it if you refuse his apology?

how everything would crumble for him again if he left today without you back in his life the way he wants it? it just seems near impossible.

he watches you throw your head back, laughing before looking around. he tells himself to look away but he just can’t — meeting your eyes a feeling he’s been yearning for all these months without you.

you freeze when your warm eyes meet his blue ones. your jaw drops slightly, the smile is completely wiped off and you let go of geri’s arm. he sees your chest heave as you take a step back away from geri.

your stare lingers, making max contemplate if that was an invitation for him to come to you. but max cannot fathom the glistening of your eyes — are they tears or just the reflection of the lights that surround you?

the music abruptly stops, making you turn to the stage, erupting in cheers as you clap your hands.

he watches you run towards christian, throwing your arms around his team principal as your hands come up to wipe your face.

he watches you talk to him for a bit before you quickly excuse yourself to walk towards the house. here he is with an empty stomach and all the courage in the world.

he runs after you, leaving and ignoring daniel's calls for him to come back and think it over first.

"(y/n)," max calls out into the well-lit house, eyes darting all over the near empty house for you.

your shoes go against the floor, snapping max's head towards the bathroom door. chest still heaving with your fists clenched by your sides. mascara pools under your eyes; almost unnoticeable if he hadn't had you memorised like the back of his hand.

a shakey breath passes your trembling lips as you slowly drop your head. your eyes dart to the group of kids stumbling over their feet to get themselves out of the house.

a small part of all this feels planned. if not by geri, most likely christian. that damned performance was just a ruse to get you to stay longer until max arrived for the evening.

it's genius, actually.

"max."

all of the thoughts that flooded your brain when you locked eyes with him earlier are suddenly gone. something about you never wanting to see him again, or perhaps it was an 'i miss you' threatening to spill out of your mouth now that he's here?

you can't seem to remember and it's only adding to the growing frustration in your chest.

oh, how you've missed being this close of reach to him. if you really tried, you can smell his cologne from the other side of the room and you can almost imagine how his hand would feel in yours.

but you barely recognise the man standing in front of you. the same goes for him, eyes roaming every part of your body as you stand in silence.

it seems so much has changed in such a short amount of time.

you look slimmer than how max remembers you. but you look happier - a state that he has rarely seen you in for a long while. maybe the relationship really was meant to meet its end when it did.

but the tears falling on your cheeks made him convince himself otherwise. maybe you missed him too; maybe these past 2 and a half months were just as excruciating for you as it was for him.

just sitting and hoping on his maybe's again.

"fuck," max says under his breath, finally finding it in himself to walk towards you. "fuck's sake. come here."

a million possibilities run through your mind. as he makes his way over to you, you're frozen in place once more. is this really how it's going to be? after all that process you made, after all the tears.

all those were to only end up in his arms again? you being to wonder: what were all those tears and sleepless nights for if you would only run back to him?

all of your preached rationality ceases to exist when he's a pace away from you, your arms thrown around his shoulders as you bury your face into his neck. his grip around your waist is tight, his face buried in your shirt as he lifts you up slightly.

"i'm sorry," max whispers, nuzzling his face deeper into your shoulder, his own tears spilling out of his eyes to the fabric of your shirt. "i'm sorry. i shouldn't have let you walk away."

but you shake your head. the mental image of that picture of max and kelly walking in the paddocks flashes in your mind suddenly. you try to unwrap his arms around you, but then he only tightens his arms around you.

"i'm sorry. i should have asked you to stay," he confesses, his mind a mess from all of the things he's thought of saying to you. "i should have told you that there's a way to work it out. it didn't have to come to a breakup."

"but you turned to her anyway!" you say through gritted teeth, taking a deep breath to muster up the courage to pull away. and you do, stumbling steps back as you go into a sob. it would have been all fine if those pictures never leaked. "you went to the one person i didn't want to see you with!"

max's hair is dishevelled, his tear-stained cheeks are flushed and his lips are swollen. "what?"

you shake your head and hold a hand up, taking another step away from him. "don't act stupid. i always knew you wanted kelly. you got what you wanted when i broke up with you, didn't you? that's why there were pictures of you together after news of our break-up leaked. isn't it, max? to rub it in my face?"

"you don't even know what you're talking about!" max fights, throwing his hands in the air. "i could say the same for you - wearing the first dress i got you out to the club and leaving with some other guy? your pictures were more suggestive than ours; we were just fucking walking!"

you laugh dryly, rolling your eyes. you wipe your eyes roughly and throw your head back. "at least i can admit if something had happened. but you're still fucking denying every little thing. you're such a cunt, max."

"i'm not denying anything."

"yeah, you are!" you point an accusing finger at him and click your tongue. "you wanted out but didn't want to be the one to rip the bandaid off! what was it, max? some sort of familiarity with me that you couldn't bear to leave?"

"absolutely not. i fucking love you!" max's eyes widen in disbelief at what he's hearing. "nothing happened with kelly - i was doing her father a favour!"

you smile slightly and raise your eyebrow. "i've heard that excuse before, max. go say it to somebody who will believe you."

max rolls his eyes. "you already broke up with me. what do i get from lying to you now?"

"who knows? maybe you just don't like the thought of me moving on," you shrug, placing your hands on your hips. "pretty self-centred if you ask me."

"literally," max takes a deep breath, "just shut up and listen to me."

"literally," you mimic him in the same tone, "there's absolutely nothing to talk about."

you turn around, pushing the hair out of your face. you've stopped crying, your throat sore from all the panting and screaming you've just done. thank god for the music booming outside - your conversation is safe from nosey ears.

maybe christian turned it up when he saw max running after you.

max shakes his head, falling silent. "you've got no fucking idea what you're talking about. i loved you then, and i love you now. if i didn't..."

"if you didn't, then what?" you snort. "you expect me to believe you?"

he takes a deep breath, locking eyes with you. he takes a cautious step forward. "i have thought about you so much since we've been apart. i don't think anything has ever been so clear to me before."

"yeah?" you smile lopsidedly. it immediately drops when he takes another step, and you set it off with a step back. "seemed pretty clear to you when you let me fucking walk out of your driver's room without another word."

max sighs. "i should have fought for you harder that night. i'm sorry."

"then why?" you cry, tears falling out of your eyes immediately. your hands come up to cover your eyes as you break into a full sob. "why didn't you chase after me? why didn't you call?"

you tear your hands away from your eyes, one palm resting on your chest while you heave. "why didn't you text me? why didn't you bother reaching out? you had every fucking opportunity, max! why did you let it get this fucking far?"

max only drops his head in shame. of course, he had his reasons not to reach out to you. "i don't know," he says softly, shaking his head. "i didn't think you still wanted to be with me. you broke up with me. i didn't know what to think. i thought it was over."

"i spent the better part of 6 years of my life with you," you say weakly. a lump forms in your throat, prompting you to close your eyes. you squeak out a sob as you drop to your knees, a soft thud coming from the contact. "and you couldn't even ask me to stay."

you look up at him, teary-eyed as you clutch onto your chest in desperation. "i would have stayed if you said don't go. i waited, max."

he nods, walking over to where you are. he gets dejavu as he drops himself next to you, sitting cross-legged in christian's apartment. it's just like the time you broke up.

you adjust yourself, sitting a proper few centimetres away from him. both of you press your backs against the wall behind you. the music is just as loud as before, consuming the silence that you let fester the air between you.

you drop your head on the wall, the sound of both your cries barely heard within the music between you.

"but i did miss you," you whisper. "every single waking moment in the days after. i kept thinking i made a mistake, and that you knew it too. i kept holding out hope for you to show up at my door, telling me off for being stupid and breaking up with you."

max just looks down at his legs. he claps his hands together, shakily trying to steady his breath as he calms from his sob. "i didn't think you'd want me back. the state of our relationship before we broke up... (y/n)... you're rational enough to admit that that wasn't going to do it for us. we needed the time apart to figure it out."

you smile to yourself, nodding slightly. barely noticeable. you let a moment pass. "nothing happened, by the way."

"hm?" he hums, turning his head to look at you.

"after the club," you admit. "i blew him off at the lobby of my apartment building. i stumbled home and fell asleep on my couch. dress, makeup, heels - the whole shebang."

max smiles. his hand flinches, two voices in his mind fighting over the next course of movement for him. he ought to make the first move once in a while.

he reaches over to you, firmly grabbing your hand. "i'm sorry i didn't know just how much you meant to me. it shouldn't have taken a breakup for me to realise that you're the love of my life."

you smile back at him, squeezing his hand. "i never wanted to break up with you." you drop your head on his shoulder. "i was just so tired. i would look at pictures of us wishing it was that simple again."

he rests his head above yours. suddenly, it all seemed so quiet. you feel your broken bones mending, the lump in your throat disappearing and a weight lifted off your shoulders.

but if it had been this easy, maybe there's something more. something you're not quite getting yet even after spending almost 3 months apart.

"i totally get it if you say no," max whispers, taking a deep breath. he can't go on without trying to make a move himself. you're already right here. "but do you wanna grab dinner some time with me?"

you lift your head, lips parting. you stare at him with wide eyes while your brain goes into overdrive. a million questions run through your head.

is this really for the best? is this a resolution you can live with?

on one hand, if you choose to be with him again, the puzzle pieces can fit the way they used to again. it will be you and him against the world once more - the way it always should have been. but how sure are you that it won't end up in shambles once more?

will you never find yourself in gut-wrenching pain ever again from what seems like the worst loss you'll experience in your life? would it even be worth it?

you take a deep breath, and you squeeze his hand.

ending 1.

ending 2.

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evanpetersmybf · 1 month

Text

All he asked for was you

Tate Langdon x female!reader

Summary: Tate loves you too much. He would do anything for you, to keep you by his side, to make you love him forever. He would cross any line to make you his, it doesn't matter how evil it is... But was it really worth it?

Genre: ANGST!! and some smut

Word count: 5,104

Warnings: Obsessive, stalkish and violent behavior, implicit toxic relationship; mentions of weapons, murder, mental health issues, family issues, school shooting; use of Y/N, swearing, cunnilingus, fingering, unprotected p in v. (i hope i'm not missing any...) NOT PROOFREAD !!

A/N: English isn't my first language!! Sorry if I have some mistakes and if Tate's a bit ooc (i tried to keep him in character as much as i could). I wasn't sure (and still not) if this is good but I spent days writing it, so I had to post it.

A small playlist with songs that inspired me for this: monster by meg and dia, pacify her by melanie martinez, all i want is you by rebzyyx, skyfall by adele, psycho by doko, paparazzi by lady gaga, dark red by steve lacy.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ཐི ♡ ཋྀ

Tate never believed in love, nor was he a romantic one.

In fact, he despised it. How could he even believe in that feeling when he never felt loved by his own mother? At least that’s what he pretended.

The blond always had the facade of a tough guy, although he couldn’t fool anyone. Constance knew well he was a sensitive boy. Probably the most crybaby ever to exist… And the most unstable one.

Now he was here. His chest going up and down, breathing shallow and fast. His eyes were darting around the room, looking for something or perhaps someone. Some silly tears were rolling down his cheeks while he anxiously fidgeted with a ring on his finger. The clock on the wall continued its tick-tack. The time kept running. His heart kept beating. It was getting late.

He refused to look at the wooden floor. He didn’t want to accept reality. If Tate did that, he would feel like the biggest monster on Earth.

Nevertheless, he couldn’t stay like this.

He had to do something real fast.

Today, 18:40

You were supposed to arrive at 19:00.

But he remained there, next to the corpse of his rival. A bloody ax beside the dead man’s bleeding head.

Whom he thought was his worst enemy, was someone really dear to you.

Well, Tate fervently believed this was something justified. He couldn’t stand that fucking asshole anymore! That scumbag needed to be put back in his place. And Tate only did that. Furthermore, he actually helped him. He took him away from this shitty world. It was a favor.

He had already killed his mother’s boyfriend, so why was he feeling guilty?

Maybe because his victim was special to you. Because his death would hurt you. And Langdon swore to God he would never let anybody or anything hurt you, including himself.

He loved you.

He wanted to be the one to hold your hand forever.

Tate snapped back to the present and frowned. He picked up the weapon, putting it in his backpack. He didn’t even mind cleaning it. Then, he proceeded to knelt right next to the lifeless dude and cleaned the blood surrounding his body; afterwards, he dragged him to the basement and…

19:00

A knock on the door.

You arrived.

“DAMN IT!”

He left his dead foe lying limp on the cold basement ground and quickly ran upstairs, straight to his room. He also left the backpack there.

Tate spent the last twenty minutes cleaning the mess he made in the living room after he atrociously smashed your friend’s head, forgetting that had poor time to get ready.

He desperately looked for clean clothes, scrambling the entire closet in search of fresh garments while he cussed at himself, at his mother, at that freaking boy, at the entire world but you.

Finally he found some jeans and a striped shirt. He looked at himself in the mirror after changing and cleaned the tiny drops of blood that stayed on his face and hands. He never realized he left the bloody clothing on the bed.

Another knock.

19:07

Tate opened the door, immediately throwing himself at you and giving you one of the warmest hugs. His demeanor with you was completely different; you were the only creature capable of changing his fucked up mind into something more beautiful, more peaceful. The issue was that it only happened when he was with you, otherwise he would be aggressive and rude as usual.

You got the best of him.

“Missed you so fuckin’ much, babe…” Voice muffled since his face was buried in the crook of your neck. Tate always did the same thing; clinging onto you like a small koala would.

“Heh, me too, hun!” You spoke with the same soothing voice he adored. Tate giggled and placed a tender kiss on your jawline, then another, and another, and another.

Soon enough, he was peppering kisses all over your neck, making you moan softly. Oh those sounds. He could hear you melting under his touch, his embrace, for the rest of eternity.

He loved making you squirm, making you laugh, making you feel loved.

He was way too sweet.

Only if you knew.

Four weeks before today…

Tate has always had the bad habit of stalking you. Yeah… He wasn’t proud of it. But can you blame him? He’s constantly afraid of you leaving him. He wanted to make sure you never did so… Otherwise he would die. Literally.

Don’t ask how he would die. You already know the answer.

You two were supposed to have a date, albeit you had to cancel your meeting.

And that, of course, made him overthink. It didn’t matter how many times you told him you were going to study; he felt betrayed, as if you were rejecting him. And Tate hated and feared rejection to the bone.

“Pretty please? Please, Y/N! I don’t wanna go home early, mom’s gonna be there and-and–”

“Tate, I can’t skip this. I have like, a test every day next week and I must study. I don’t wanna fail. Please, sweetie. I promise I’ll make it up to ya’, mhm?”

He rolled his eyes and whined, almost throwing a tantrum. He didn’t try to manipulate you on purpose. It came out naturally. “But I need you, Y/N! Why do you always do the same, huh? Am I not that important? Don’t you love me any longer?”

His childish crying continued for a couple of minutes, until it stopped and the blond agreed a deal with you.

You thought he was calm now, but no. How naive.

You went to the library to study as you said… Without noticing he followed you.

Quietly, he got into that maze of books after you and hid behind some shelves.

Tate noticed you sat on an empty table. Thank God. Oh?

Who. Is. He.

A man Tate didn’t know sat next to you. Really close. Too close for Tate’s liking. He tried to think he was a stranger, that he wasn’t going to talk to you… He was wrong.

He clenched his hands into a ball when he saw that idiot talking to you, and the worst part was that you followed suit. It seemed you two were friends or something.

How DARE YOU talk to another man? No, how dare you talk to another HUMAN BEING!?

Tate was insecure 24/7.

If you weren’t there, Tate was falling apart. It was simple.

No Y/N, no happy Tate. Was it too hard to understand?

Three weeks before today…

It was Friday. Tate was impatiently waiting for you outside the campus, hanging a small bouquet of flowers he picked up.

Once he spotted you coming out from the building, he waved his hand and embraced you tightly once you were in front of him. He gave you the adorable present.

“Tate!”

“How did you do? Did you pass your tests? Don’t tell me, I’m sure you did.” Said, grinning from ear to ear. He was away from you for an entire week. How did he survive? He didn’t know, but he was glad to have you with him again. “Tell me about your life in the last days, baby. Please? I feel like I haven’t seen you in years!”

There he was, the one and only drama queen Tate Langdon.

You talked about the tests, about how the teachers were being a pain in the ass (which clearly triggered in him the intense desire of hurting them because they stressed you), and… About a guy. The same guy from the library, with whom you spent the entire last week studying. He couldn’t stand it. He saw him as a threat to your relationship, especially since he was an old friend that you met many years ago.

As the days went by, you gave him more reasons to hate that jerk. Why? Well of course because you spent hours at the library doing homework or studying with him. Or even hanging out with him and other people.

In reality, you went out with him to a museum just once, and then skating with other colleagues. Nothing compared to the time you spent with Tate; in a week, you would hang out with him almost daily, and if you were way too busy, he would go to your place and spend the night there. He was so attached to you to the point he had to see you at least once a day. And that’s why he was so jealous of your friend. Tate couldn’t stand the idea of you sharing your life with someone else who wasn’t him or your family… And he also got jealous of them, but he was handling it.

Two weeks before today.

After Tate’s pleas, you decided to introduce your friend to him.

Probably a big mistake.

The date was really awkward; your friend tried being nice, and Tate acted surprisingly kind. Of course it was odd; usually, he despised all of your friends and treated them badly, yet this time was different. You were stunned, however, you tried to ignore it and instead got happy as he finally accepted a random person as your buddy.

Still and all, he hated that moron. It didn’t matter how much he tried liking your pal, he was jealous of him. He was getting on his nerves. He denied the fact that you had more love for other people that wasn’t him. Tate desired being your only one. Your number one. Your entire world. Because that’s what you were for him. And he was willing to do whatever to keep you with him.

Tate exchanged numbers with him and meticulously plotted a plan to ascertain he would never talk to you ever again. At first, it came out as a simple “I’m gonna scare the shit outta him”, nonetheless, it turned into a darker idea, very likely involving physical violence.

One week before today…

The last few days, Tate won Peter’s trust. Ah yes. That’s your friend's name. You were glad that he finally opened his warm heart and began to meet more people besides you.

You thought he needed a friend, an empathetic person who could support the blond when you weren’t available, that way he would feel less lonely and depressed.

They went to the cinema, to the arcade, even to a music store. Everything was going according to what he planned.

Eventually, he invited Peter to his place to play chess and other board games on a Sunday afternoon, before you arrived and had a date with Tate due to your anniversary.

Today, 16:00

Peter and Tate were eating pizza and having a great noon, talking about their lives and random stuff, like school and music. They both enjoyed Nirvana, and since Peter played the guitar, he agreed on teaching your boy how to.

If it weren’t for Tate’s twisted mind, they would’ve been best friends.

The guitarist wasn’t a bad guy. He was a great buddy that really appreciated you and the crybaby, but Langdon had something else in mind.

18:00

The men watched a movie. Tate didn’t even know its name; in fact, he didn’t even pay attention to it. Instead, he was focused on his next actions, plotting them carefully.

“Crap, mom’s gonna arrive soon…” Tate mumbled with annoyance, biting his nails and tapping his foot on the floor. He was lying. You were going to arrive, not Constance.

“Damn, bro. Well, I don’t have a problem. I wanna meet her.”

“Huh? No no no, you shouldn’t. That bitch is crazy.”

Peter scoffed, disagreeing with Tate’s rude manner to call his own momma.

“Hey, you shouldn’t talk like that. I bet she loves you!”

That pissed him off. “You don’t know anything, Peter. Your family is different. Your life’s different. You won’t understand!” He yelled, standing up from the couch and now pacing around the room, trying to keep it calm.

“Dude, calm down!

“NO! I fucking won’t!”

The screaming continued for a while. Tate revealed his unstable and crystal self. Even something so insignificant could drive him to the edge, like what happened today. That definitely surprised the other one, who used to think that Tate was a sweet boy. “I dunno why Y/N is dating you.”

“What did you say?” Tate abruptly stopped pacing.

“Y/N. Y/N doesn’t deserve you.”

“WHY WOULD YOU EVEN SAY THAT!?” He pounced on Peter, gripping his neck with one rough hand, applying enough pressure on the sides to stop the blood circulation in his carotids and make him lose consciousness.

Before passing out, Peter, getting pale, managed to croak out: “Because she deserves better…”

Soon enough, he fainted, giving Tate minutes to think about what else to do.

Your boyfriend wasn’t planning on murdering Peter today. No, he didn’t have time. He also was supposed to meet you.. But this was the perfect excuse! And not only that; he indirectly admitted he was in love with you! Or that’s what Tate interpreted with his delusional point of view.

Peter didn’t feel anything romantic for you, he was just worried Tate might be too unhinged to be your partner.

Thus, he went to his room and grabbed his backpack. Then, went to the garden shed and picked up the ax that belonged to his father, and a bottle of lye.

He had to get the job done quickly, nevertheless, he lost track of time.

18:30

Tate came back to the living room, just to notice that Peter wasn’t there anymore.

“FUCK IT!” Langdon got nervous. What if he escaped? What if he told you that Tate was crazy? He couldn’t allow this, not at all.

Thankfully, or maybe not, Tate found Peter crawling towards the front door, the poor dude still feeling dizzy after being choked.

Tate didn’t have any mercy.

“Where do you think you’re going, lil’ piece of shit!?”

18:38

Tate finally did it. He brutally murdered Peter, smashing his head several times with the ax.

He got rid of that little issue. He took him to somewhere clean.

Once he assured the other man wasn’t breathing, he dropped the weapon on the floor, making a loud metallic thud.

19:10

Tate was pinning you down on the couch, the same couch where your dead friend was sitting just an hour ago.

His hands were traveling all along your body, tracing sweet patterns on your skin.

Eventually, his fingers were clumsily pulling down your panties, not minding to take off your skirt. “Did you bring this for easy access, baby?” Tate chuckled and buried his face between your legs, holding your thighs in place; his lips plastered messy kisses over the warm flesh, biting it and leaving tiny marks after sucking.

Your reaction was alluring to him; he enjoyed listening to your pleas, to your whimpers. If it was for him, he would spend the entire day making you cum over and over again.

He finally got rid of your underwear, tossing it aside. Without further ado, the boy spread your folds with his large digits, and continued to lick your throbbing wet cunt.

“So fucking pretty… So wet for me, huh?”

His tongue lapped your small clit two or three times, then, traced a zigzag and circles on the sensitive nub. While he devoured you, he inserted his middle and ring finger, pumping them in and out of your cute hole, curling them and hitting the right spot to make you feel butterflies.

Tate could feel his arousal growing; his erection being restrained by the tight fabric of his jeans. He was desperate, yeah. But he always put you in the first place, and that included pleasuring you before him.

After a while, he replaced his fingers with his tongue, fucking your pussy with the agile muscle and now rubbing your clit with his thumb, applying pressure that sent electric waves through your body. He stopped using his tongue on you and instead looked at that stunning face of yours. He was delighted with your flushed cheeks, with every single gesture you did, with the way your eyes rolled to the back of your head. He wanted to take a picture of you to remember this moment forever.

His thumb increased the pace, while his free hand lifted up your blouse and tried to undo your bra. He couldn’t. You giggled when he groaned in frustration; he was too horny to think straight and that’s why you helped him to take off the garment.

Tate sighed and after that awkward and funny moment, he kept rubbing your bud, using your own juices and his saliva as a lubricant, intensifying the sensation. His left pinched and pulled your nipple, making you gasp and twitch beneath him, whilst his mouth abused your other one, greedily sucking on it.

“Tate, ‘m gonna cum! I-”

Tate cut you off by kissing you harshly; his tongue invading your warm mouth, exploring it and then nibbling your bottom lip until it bleeded. He licked the tiny drops of blood, savoring the metallic taste of it.

Unable to hold on any longer, you reached your orgasm, coming undone while Tate kept caressing your pussy, decreasing the velocity while you finally calmed down.

He left you panting; your heart beating so fast just like his.

You tried to sit up on the couch, breathing deep for more air, but the blond prevented you from going away.

“Where do you think you’re doing? We’re not done yet, you’re gonna cum again!”

Tate carried you bridal style and went upstairs straight to his bedroom. He threw you on the bed.

Without stopping looking at you, he unbuckled his belt and pulled down his jeans along the boxers; his dick already erect and throbbing, the veins thick and the tip leaking precum.

Using the clear liquid as lube, he stroked his shaft for a while, jerking off to the sight of you. He groaned and whimpered, closing his eyes as his hand pumped himself.

One of your hands went to your breasts, massaging them softly as your right went down between your legs, slowly teasing your womanhood and coating your index finger with your arousal, using it to rub your aching bundle of nerves.

Tate’s dark room was now filled with both of your moans; Tate calling your name several times and you begging him to fuck you.

He couldn’t stand this anymore. He NEEDED to be inside you, to feel your warmth enveloping him. “On all fours. Now.” You immediately obeyed, feeling as eager as him.

“Look at me, mhm?” He positioned behind you and rubbed the tip against your wet folds, teasing you for a bit. Afterwards, he slowly entered his cock inside your slit, moving it slowly at first. His thumb went to your clitoris, toying with it just like minutes before. He picked up the pace and fucked you fast and hard; his cockhead brushing your cervix. Grabbing a fistful of your hair, Tate pulled your head towards him, still with the deep thrusting. “Fuck, Y/N! You’re so pretty… So fucking precious, so fucking mine!” Moaned against your ear, voice raspy and agitated.

Panting, you stopped looking at him and instead looked to the bed. Why? Who knows, but you did it. And you saw Tate’s dirty clothes. Dirty with blood. A lot of blood.

You froze. Maybe it was red paint?

“U-uh, Tate?” You muttered, feeling already bewildered by the sight. You tried not to jump into conclusions, although you knew Tate and he has always been… Secretive.. And aggressive, of course.

After your boyfriend heard your shaky whisper, he stopped moving, even if he wanted to keep going. “Hm?”

“What’s this?” Tate sighed and pulled out from you, not understanding what you meant.

“What’s what?”

Without saying anything else to him, you grabbed the shirt and touched the weird stain. It was still fresh. You took your fingers to your mouth to taste it; and the metallic tang was too obvious. “Tate, what the fuck is this!?”

You threw it at him. Freaked out, you stood up and picked up your clothes, putting them on again, all meanwhile Tate connected the dots and realized he was probably going to get caught.

“Wait, Y/N! It’s not what it looks like, I swear, damn it!” He yelled and grabbed your arm, not wanting you to leave like this. He had to save his reputation, he couldn’t let you think bad of him even if you had all the right. Because, why the fuck the fabric was soaked in blood?

“Then what is it, Tate? WHY DOES IT HAVE SO MUCH BLOOD!?”

“CALM DOWN, PLEASE!”

You attempted to get away from his grip, struggling with him until, somehow, you managed to do so. However, you tripped with his dirty shoes and fell, realizing they were also stained with the red liquid. “Tate, what…? Why? What is this?”

“Nothing, I swear!” He didn’t have any excuses. Saying it was paint would’ve been lame. You were too smart and he knew lying wasn’t a good choice.

Feeling overwhelmed with the matter, you went downstairs, walking as fast as you could. Passing through the living room, a very familiar bag caught your eye. It was definitely Peter’s. You decided to grab it and realized it had his phone inside. Something was off.

Tate was standing behind you; fists clenched and heart beating like crazy. He tried to approach you, still thinking about what to do or what to say.

“Tate… What is this doing here? Peter’s here?”

“Huh? Yeah… He— He came earlier and had to go soon, he left this accidentally, yup…” You could see him fidgeting with that ring on his finger, again.

“Bullshit!”

Tate scowled and grabbed your chin, making you look at his dark orbs. “Tell me, Y/N, do you trust me or not, huh? Look me in the eyes and say you don’t!”

The struggle continued for what seemed eternity. You trying to run away from the house and he trying to make you stay. “Please, Y/N, just listen to me!”

“You did something to him, right? I know him, Tate! He would NEVER leave his phone like this! Is this a joke?”

“Why do you care so much about that asshole!? What has he done for you!? Tell me!”

“Oh my, you’re jealous! I knew it! All that crap about being his friend was a lie, right? Tate, you’re being delusional! I can have friends, I can hang out with whoever I want, whether you like it or not!”

Tate pressed your cheeks between his thumb and the rest of his fingers, squeezing the flesh with his veiny, big hand, pressing it tightly enough to leave the mark of his long digits on it.

“You can’t! You’re mine. Only mine. Since the day you were born you were meant to be mine. Not his, not anybody, just me.”

“Tate… We should end this…” You thought this was the best for both. Being in a relationship with him was draining; always being careful to not hurt him, make him jealous or mad. He was such a sensitive boy that always took everything too personally. He felt everything a little too much.

Since the beginning you knew he was unstable and that he had many issues, but you tried to see beyond his sick mind, you tried to understand him despite being so different.

Tate felt so safe with you. You were the only person who understood him, or at least made attempts to.

He felt rejected by the entire society, even by his own mother, until he met you and he had a minimum spark of hope that the world didn’t suck that much.

That’s why he clung to you. That’s why you were his everything. He would lose his mind if you leave him.

He felt like dying when he heard you wanted to finish the relationship.

He couldn’t breathe.

Some tears were now falling to the floor, his eyes puffy and an ugly frown on his face. His mouth twisted as he sobbed loudly, tugging the hem of your shirt while he begged you to stay. He was crying like a newborn, like a baby who had to be apart from his mother for a second.

“No no no no, you can’t do this to me!” He whimpered, his speech cracking as he tried to hold you close whilst you were stepping back. You were slipping through his fingers, you were leaving him.

“Tate, if something happened to Peter, I will never forgive you! Can’t you see you’re hurting me?”

Tate swore he would never hurt you, nor let anyone. But here he was, finally snapping out of it and seeing the cruel truth.

“You’ve been hurting me the whole time, Tate! I tried to understand you, I really did, I tried to help you, to save you from yourself! But it’s impossible. I’m losing myself here with you, I don’t even know who I am anymore! You don’t want help, do you? ‘Cause it doesn’t matter what I do, you’re never satisfied! You suffocate me!”

All those words were like daggers penetrating his skin, touching his nerves and making him die of pain. You were tearing him apart, just the way he was destroying you.

He finally let go of you, feeling a tornado of emotions. Tate felt depressed, mad, resentful, like he was going crazy. Though, he knew he had to leave if that’s what you wanted. He couldn’t bring himself to break another promise.

Thereby, he confessed his crimes to you. He explained he killed his mom’s partner a few days ago, and that now he had killed your friend. Why? He was jealous, he was scared you’d left him. You did it before you discovered the cruel reality, anyways. That’s why he told you. Because he couldn’t lose anything else.

The situation was utterly disgusting. Tate was sick. He murdered an innocent man and then proceeded to fuck you, as it was the maximum test of love, as if his life meant nothing.

You knew he wasn’t what people often considered “normal”. But this was definitely more than just being a “weirdo”. Tate needed psychiatric help… And being arrested, of course.

“You make me wanna puke, Tate! You’re the evil!”

Without hesitating, you left Tate behind, running as fast as you could from that living hell.

You just wanted to cry, curl up into a ball and wake up from this nightmare. You wished it was merely a bad dream.

Tomorrow morning, you’d go to the police, but for now you needed to sleep.

Monday morning, 11:05

You couldn’t sleep all night. You spent hours thinking about everything, about how this looked like a cruel joke to you. Eventually, you fell asleep at 4AM, and didn’t wake up at what seemed almost midday.

An intense sound of police sirens woke you from your slumber. Startled by the loud noise, you rubbed your eyes and went to the window, trying to get a glimpse of what was happening outside.

Police cars and SWAT vans were going in a specific direction… Towards Tate’s street. It couldn’t be, right?

Did his mother find the corpse? Or perhaps something else?

You looked at the clock, realizing it was late and you had to go to class.

08:00

After the most painful night of his life, Tate decided today everything would be over.

He had to cleanse the world… To take people to somewhere else, to some place full of peace away from the piss and the vomit that runs down the streets.

He was doing this not only because of your breakup, but also because of many other reasons. Your split up was the straw that broke the camel and drove him to the edge.

10:40

After shooting the school, Tate left the place, looking unfazed about what he just did. He was unhinged.

He peacefully got into his place, went to his room and stayed there for some minutes.

The blond sat on the edge of the bed, leaving the gun right next to him and stared at nothing. His gaze was empty, but also there were some tears threatening to spill.

His mind was a whirlwind. Some part of him was satisfied, but the other was confused, wondering what was he thinking, what had he done?

What would you think of him now? Were you even there? Did he kill you too and he didn’t even notice?

In the end, he recognized he indeed was the evil you said. Damn it. You were right, again, as ever.

Tate wanted to hear your voice, to comfort him, to hear you saying everything was okay. That he’d be okay. He desired to hear “I love you” from you once more.

11:15

You went downstairs to find your family apparently mourning you.

They thought you were at school when the shooting happened. They believed you were gone, but here you were.

Eventually, they explained to you what happened.

The first thing that popped into your mind was Tate’s wellbeing, still unaware that he was the culprit. You were afraid something terrible could’ve happened to him, you were regretting your last words to him, but you also had to get him prisoner.

Your heart dropped when they explained to you he was the shooter.

No, it couldn’t be possible.

It was possible. After all, he had already killed two men.

Even if you despise what he did, some part of you still longed for him, still was in love with his once kind heart.

A terrifying feeling of dread filled your body, making you feel numb, as if none of this was real…

11:25

After running to Tate’s house and seeing it surrounded by the cops and the SWAT team, everything stopped. Constance’s distressed cries and pleas were heard from outside, followed suit by the sound of bullets. It was over now.

Tate was certainly a troubled individual who dedicated his entire life to searching for something, to feel something, to feel loved.

All he asked for was love, to be loved, to love. All he wanted was you.

But at the same time, your love led him to an never-ending obsession that ultimately broke both of you.

He became your biggest regret.

All he feared, all his nightmares came true. Everything he was so afraid of was him and only himself.

247 notes · View notes

ayabeanworks · 7 months

Text

Title: Can I meet you again?

Synopsis: AU in which Geto does not defect, but you do instead.

Character: SaShiSu x reader

Series: Let's Meet in the Spring (SaShiSu x reader)

Notes: Literally just heavy angst & sadness. Mentions of death, murder, suicide and reincarnation. Heavy themes. Lots of swearing. Spoilers for JJK season 2 (anime).

Part 2 available here!

Prequel available here!

AU sequel available here!

The songs I had playing while writing this was: - Hero by Alan Walker (Probably played this one the most that it's at the top of my repeated songs Spotify list ☠️) - Apollo (Eurovision ver) by Timebelle - Dancing With Your Ghost by Sasha Sloan

"Oh?"

Shoko stared at you as you waved at her with a bright smile, brows raising in surprise as she took out a new smoke in the Shinjuku smoking area.

You made your way over to her, finding that she wasn't pushing you away. It was good to see a friend after a while, but you weren't too sure if you had that privilege anymore.

For you, you were testing the waters.

"Hey, Shoko." You took out a lighter from your pocket, one-handedly opening it for her to light her cigarette.

"Fancy seeing you here. You need something from me?" She glanced into your direction, taking a shallow inhale and extending her exhale.

You hummed in reply. "Just testing my luck."

"So, just to be sure, are the claims false?"

"Unfortunately, they're true." You could only bring yourself to shrug lightly, looking ahead. From your peripherals, you could see her taking out her phone to call the others.

"Just to be sure again: why?"

"I want to create a world where jujutsu sorcerers don't have to struggle." You didn't elaborate.

"Wow, that's funny!" Shoko laughed lightly, but there really wasn't anything humourous behind it. It was as if she was contemplating asking more. After all, everyone and everything struggles, so what is this righteous talk from you?

"Do you think I'm wrong?" You asked, hearing the faint ringing of her phone as she waited for one of the others to pick up.

"Right or wrong, it was dumb." Shoko didn't even hold back on her words, making you genuinely laugh at how frank she was, regardless had you been granted a bounty.

"Gojo, Geto, [name]'s here with me in Shinjuku." Gojo seemed to say something on the other side, but Shoko retorted, "No way! I don't wanna die." She hung up after conveying her message.

"So, what will you do now?" She turned to you, exhaling a puff of smoke into a ring above her head.

"I don't know. I might see you around, I guess." You took a step forward, facing her. "See you later, Shoko." You knew Gojo and Geto would be here at any moment, but you didn't know if you wanted to face them.

Shoko didn't say anything in response, just watching as the ashes fell from the cigarette between her fingers.

You didn't see, but it was the first time Shoko has made an expression where she was at a loss of what to do.

And, that was the last time you saw Shoko.

"WAIT, [NAME]!" Satoru bellowed out to you as you walked away, in front of the KFC you all used to go to until recently.

He caught up pretty fast...where's Sugu? You sensed his curse energy, but you weren't sure where it was. As for Satoru, he was only a few metres away from you down the slope of the street.

You sighed inwardly, ready to face him. "'toru."

The nickname you usually call him by hurt him more this time around as he registered how unaffectionate your voice was, contrary to the usual. It was devoid of any emotion. Like you didn't care about what you left behind. Like you didn't care about him.

"Explain yourself, [name]!" He demanded, sunglasses further down his nose as he watched you with wide eyes full of emotions of all kinds, but you mainly picked out disbelief and anger.

"There's nothing else to say. You've heard from Shoko." You stated, watching the twitch in his face as he evaluated your dismissive answer.

"So you'll kill anybody who makes life hard for Jujutsu sorcerers? Both sorcerers and non-sorcerers?" Satoru's voice rose in anger.

After all, you did kill an elder a week ago. It was the one that'd been annoying you since forever, the one who tried to get you purposely killed each and every time you went on a mission. Killing him was much easier than you had imagined, though.

"Well, if natural selection isn't going to do anything, I might as well do it instead." You crack a light joke, but your words were serious.

"That's not what I'm asking! I thought you were against killing if there was no meaning to it?!"

"There's a meaning behind everything. A purpose, even."

"No there isn't! You want to make a world where Jujutsu sorcerers don't suffer? That's impossible!"

"Satoru's right, [name]." Geto spoke from behind you, his voice wafting through the air as he went to stand closer to Gojo as he faced you. "There's a purpose to everything, but there's a better way of doing things than say, homicide. Especially for us in the Jujutsu world."

You wanted to scoff. But, you couldn't, because you used to be that way, too. But everything ate away at you, and you just weren't the same person anymore with the same aligning morals. You chose to go down the path you've decided to go down, even if it meant deserting everything you knew before.

"Is it really impossible?" Your voice was light, but the lilt in it was undeniably laced with seriousness. "I wouldn't do this if there was a shred of impossible in it."

The alarm on their faces was really something.

"[name]...you'll need to fight us if you keep going down this path." Suguru spoke his words deliberately, slowly, like he was getting a child to listen to him. He was careful.

Satoru clenched his teeth and fists. He wanted to say that it was impossible yet again, that when you fight them, you'll lose. But, you knew that. You knew, so why?

"Wow, I'll get to fight the 2 strongest sorcerers!" You clapped your hands together once, a smile on your lips, one that didn't reach your eyes. "Maybe so, but you're not my targets. There's some smaller fish compared to you I must get rid of first."

"Why?" Geto voiced both Gojo and his thoughts, a quick glance at Satoru knew he wasn't going to be able to hold a proper conversation without shouting.

"Why?" You echoed his question. "Well, for starters, we're treated like shit, in both worlds regardless sorcerers or non-sorcerers. Do you remember? The elder I killed, he was truly one who deserved to die. The number of times he ignored protests, warnings and more...killing off our sorcerers one by one, do you really believe someone like him being alive is worth all that struggle? For him, he deserves to die for that alone."

Geto was about to open his mouth after a thought, but you interrupted him. "Also, he was a paedophile so he deserves everything that's come his way. The world needs none of those disgusting pigs."

You couldn't forgive him. You couldn't forgive such a disgusting creature existed. When you found out the information coincidently, you knew you had to do something about it.

The anger in your eyes was juxtaposed by the small smile on your lips, one that was almost proud of what you did.

Satoru couldn't contain himself any longer, "Yeah, he was a fucking piece of shit, but killing him? That's made you one of the sorcerers we've got to kill! You're to be executed on sight! You're a hypocrite, [name]. Are you trying to get all the sorcerers you want to protect to come kill you?"

You watched him as he heaved a breath, his eyes feeling heavy on your form as he tried to convey his distraught to you about the whole situation.

You barked out a laugh, a hand landing on your hip as you stared at him, no trace of the smile on your features anymore.

"Hypocrite?" The question lay on the tip of your tongue, before you let out a low chuckle, feeling your throat go dry. "Perhaps you're right; I am. I am a hypocrite who wants death as much as those geezers who send us out to kill ourselves."

"Oh, and you forgot one detail. I don't care about sorcerers and non-sorcerers at all. They're equally as bad as each other. The only difference is that sorcerers have the power to wield cursed energy and use it to destroy curses made up from the normie's emotions." You gave him a half lie. It was easier to push him away. Push him away so he won't be able to break the armour you've put up.

"And what of him dying? Are the elders going to retire themselves? Or will they KILL us sorcerers first?" Your voice became an octave higher as you emphasised words that made you emotional.

"After I kill them, you can then reform the society as you wish. You could probably kill them yourself, 'toru, but you won't take that step. That's why I'll take that step instead." You give him a crooked smile, "There's nothing here worth living for."

"Nothing worth living for?" Satoru repeated your words, taking off his sunglasses, watching you with his blue eyes, and you could see the monstrous waves of emotion behind them. "Are you fucking blind?"

Suguru glanced over at Gojo, hoping he didn't have to inject himself in between to stop it from escalating further.

"No, I am not fucking blind, Satoru!" A chip from your facade broke off, revealing a mess of emotions in the split second your voice broke. "Do you understand how suffocating it is living in this world? Where all your friends die in front of you, or there's a chance they'll die on their next mission? Where the strongest wins - and in this world, if the curses aren't the strongest, the sorcerers at their highest standing are!"

"You know I--" He began, but you cut him off.

"I know you hate them as much as I do! But I'll do whatever it takes to get rid of them, even if it means forsaking you all to do it." You almost sound like you're pleading by the end, your eyes starting to tear up.

"And after. When they're gone, you can reform the system, and control it in the way that works best for this generation." You force a smile to your lips, but it doesn't reach your eyes. "Someone has to be the bad guy, and I'm willing to play the role, even if I may die in the process."

"[name], this can be done differently--"

"I'm tired, Satoru. I've tried. I've tried, and I'm tired. Why don't you understand that?" You whisper, shaking your head. "Do you know how many times I've tried talking to the higher ups, or anybody for that matter? No, you don't. You've been on missions this whole time, so you don't know. Even Suguru doesn't know the full extent of it. Shoko knows a bit, but she's not one who can do much about it."

Suguru and Satoru were silent for a moment, their eyes on you as your expression gave away everything you wanted to say.

"I won't be there, but it's a sacrifice worth making if you all aren't in danger. I don't care about anything else." Your words were soft, soft enough for them to hear you, soft enough for you to hope to convince yourself it was the right way and you didn't make the wrong choice.

Satoru and Suguru were the strongest duo. But, before they were, they were your best friends, along with Shoko. But now? Were you still able to call them your best friends? Did you even have that privilege anymore?

But, this is the path you took. Even if it meant abandoning those that you held dear, it was all for them. The real truth to your purpose and change of heart was to make a world easier for them, and for you, and for everybody who came after you. You didn't want anyone else to experience what you have, and you were going to do whatever you can to make that a reality.

You didn't give a flying fuck about anything else other than your best friends, if you were being honest. If it meant that you won't be by their side anymore, it was a sacrifice you were willing to make.

"So, I won't stop. This world is absolutely fucked. Why save something that can't be saved no more? I'd rather go down fighting. Morals be damned."

Your eyes glistening with tears unshed, you press your lips into a genuine smile. The last genuine smile before giving them a wave, "I guess this is goodbye. The next time I see you, 'toru, Sugu, we'll be enemies."

You turned on your heel, ready to leave, but you felt the curse energy expand from behind you, like they were readying to attack.

But, you kept walking, and nothing happened.

Satoru's outstretched hand fell back down to his side as he swore a string of curses, the pain on his face evident as he watched your figure disappear in the crowd of people.

Suguru had half a mind to get one of his curses to follow you, but he knew you well enough that the curse would be killed the minute you felt his cursed energy, so he didn't even bother.

His clenched his hand into a fist, a bitter taste in his mouth. He remembered back to when he was in a similar situation to you, but you and the others managed to get him out of it. He felt saved, but now, seeing it happen to the very person who helped him, made him shatter inside.

Why did you help him, when you couldn't even help yourself with your own words? Why didn't you let them help you? Why didn't you let them know you were having a hard time? That this was what you were contemplating?

He would have listened. They would have listened. They always would.

He felt a cold shiver go down his spine as he watched the endless stream of pedestrians, ones he used to call 'monkeys' in his head, but when letting go of that thought, you were at the forefront of his mind. It was you who grabbed his hand, you who brought him back.

It was you.

But he wasn't able to bring you back. He wasn't able to bring back the one who had nowhere else to go. The one who didn't know what to do with their emotions. The one who got lost.

But would he really call you lost when you knew what you wanted to do, where you wanted to go?

Suguru knew you weren't malicious. At least, not originally. The essence of you, he knew, was someone who cared greatly. One who had their heart on their sleeve when talking about anything and everything, especially with them. He didn't worry about you because you were always ok. But, there were things you didn't tell them and they didn't know, because you never let that part see the light of the day.

The only thing that Suguru felt in his chest, was regret. Regret so raw he felt cold and numb.

Satoru muttered another string of curses, turning on his heel, "Let's go, Suguru." His voice was small, and he didn't want to say any more.

He pondered all the possibilities of you. But he couldn't make himself understand you like you understood him. Which is what made it even more painful.

"I'm not as strong as you." Were words you once said to Satoru.

A forgotten conversation, one you started when he had come into your room even though the light was off, finding comfort in your presence. He wanted to sleep in the same bed or at least the same room, but you were still awake, sitting up in your bed and watching the stars and sky from your window.

Satoru didn't say anything as he climbed into your double bed, comfort filling his whole being from your calming scent alone. He wouldn't admit it, but it was one of his favourite places to be when he had turmoil in his mind.

"Yeah, you're weak." He mumbled, his face squished against the pillow as he faced you.

He could see the illuminated outline of your features from the moon, finding them captivating as he watched you with half-lidded eyes.

No, you're strong, were the real words he wanted to say. But, he had always called you weak, so he was going to continue. What harm was there?

You turn your head slightly, gazing at him with a soft smile. It was like you knew what he wanted to say, but didn't hold anything against him for saying the opposite of what he truly felt.

"You're right," You whispered. "I'm weak."

You went to close the curtains, slipping back into bed with Satoru as you closed your eyes, ignoring the gaze on you as you drifted off to sleep.

Satoru had a feeling those words were in reference to something else, but he had no idea what. He felt an invisible wall between you and him from the interaction just now, one that shouldn't be there lest he had his infinity on. But he never did unless in certain situations.

"You're plenty strong, [name]." He whispered this, bringing his finger to tap your forehead, before he also went to sleep.

You weren't asleep yet, so you heard his comment. It warmed your heart, the freezing depths of it wanting to thaw. It made you want to spill the inner turmoils of your mind, but you were scared it would taint the bright sun that is Satoru.

Satoru's a lot sweeter than he lets on, you let a small smile grace your lips as you face him to sleep.

Thinking back to that conversation, Satoru leaned back in the chair of your room, wondering where it all went wrong.

Were you trying to reach out to him back then? Or were you asking him for some form of confirmation? Were you trying to let him know you were not alright? What did you want?

He wasn't as good at reading emotions like Suguru was, but he knew something was wrong when something was wrong. He just didn't know how to approach it.

He wondered, if he had indulged you that time, would you have let him in?

"You had another fight with the elders, huh." Suguru stated, seeing your current state. He sat where the vending machines were, having just taken a seat after taking a shower. The can of green tea he had in his hands was opened and given to you, "Drink up."

You held an angry expression prior to this, but being with Suguru made you calm down. You took the green tea and took a small sip, savouring the bitter flavour. It was refreshing.

You handed it back to Suguru, "Thank you." He took it back and took a large gulp, feeling it cool down his body.

"You wanna tell me what happened?" Suguru prodded. He knew something was up. Normally you'd be more like Satoru when you came out pissed from the elders meetings. But this time, you were quiet, more like you were seething, like a volcano about to erupt.

You stared at the ground, wondering what you should start with. You felt that all the words exchanged between you and the elders wasn't listened to, wasn't taken into account. It was like talking to a massive brick wall, one that you had no way to get through to.

"I..." You started, but your throat clammed up. You stopped, waiting for the words to come naturally. When your throat finally decided it was ready to talk, your voice was a whisper. "If the elders disappeared, would this all end?"

Suguru's gaze landed on you, knowing full well what you were thinking. He gave you the green tea again. You took it, and another sip.

"If the elders disappeared, others would take their place."

Suguru could feel something was wrong. The atmosphere was different with you, just like how it was different for him a year ago after the star plasma vessel mission. He could sense it in his very being, something was wrong.

"If the others took their place, would they act the same as the ones now?" You chuckled to yourself, but your voice dropped an octave, "Jujutsu society is trash."

There was a slight panic that welled up inside Suguru, reminding himself of the emotions he himself went through not too long ago.

He could see himself in you, and he hated it. Not the one who had helped to bring him out of it, the one who reached out their hand to bring him back to the light. Not you.

"[name]. You don't hate all sorcerers, do you?" His voice was calm, probing for information for your current state of mind.

Back then, he was on the verge of deciding whether to continue as someone who protected the weak, or someone who didn't care for the weak. And now, you were going through something similar. He wanted to bring you back to him, to the one you saved.

After a moment, you shook your head. "I don't. I just...hate how the elders are sending out young sorcerers to their deaths. I hate how there are young Jujutsu sorcerers being taken away from their families so they can train to be another one of us disposables. I hate how no matter what, the top dogs in this world are absolute trash, who need to be burned at the stake. And don't get me started on curses. They're the worst. I hate them. I hate them so much for taking away so much from everyone. From sorcerers, from non-sorcerers..."

A pregnant pause.

"I hate this world that has curses." Your voice cracked at the end of it as you leaned down, head in your hands as you stared at the ground, a broken whisper of self-awareness, "I hate how I've begun thinking this way."

Suguru didn't know when he had held his breath. Your confession was so raw. You had every right to be angry and frustrated at the system which Jujutsu was. He had also held the same thoughts.

"Sugu..." There was a heartbreaking whine to your voice, one that sounded as if you were on the verge of crying. "I hate this."

An embrace, so gentle, so tender, so soft, enveloped you as his larger body wrapped around yours. You could smell the soap he used as he pushed your face into the crook of his neck, his larger hand stroking your hair as you finally let the tears fall, a broken sob reverberating through your body as you held onto him like he was your lifeline.

"[name], I'm here." He soothes, head gently resting against yours. He closed his eyes, pulling you in closer when he felt you trembling. This was the exact same thing you did for him before, one that soothed him and his tumultuous heart.

The only difference is, you were smaller than before, too. Were you eating properly? You were skinnier. Did you get enough sleep? There were bags under your eyes. Did you take a break? He didn't see the last time you took a break.

You pulled away after a while, eyes puffy and face covered with snot. Suguru didn't even flinch as he grabbed the towel sitting next to him, wiping off any excess liquid from your face. It was gentle, and it reminded you he was the most gentle out of the three, and he'd been in a similar position to you at this moment in time. When you looked up to meet his eyes, you decided, you didn't want to burden him with your thoughts of hate - one time was enough.

"I'll always be here if you need me. You can come to me anytime." His hand went to your cheek and his thumb wiped at the area of your cheekbone. Just like his tender hugs, this was so, so soft that it made you want to cry again, making you nearly regret the decision in your heart.

You could only lean into his hand and give him a nod, eyes closing as you felt fatigue come down on your body, making it feel heavy. You didn't even know you fell asleep so fast that Suguru had to catch you, hauling you up so he could carry you back to your room.

This was the only time you revealed your true thoughts to Suguru, and the only time he has ever seen you this way.

Maybe this was the start of it? Suguru's thoughts when he woke up were clear in his mind. The dream he had was something that really happened, and it hurt him he wasn't able to help you during your hardest moments like you did for him.

He had slept in your bed for the night, finding that he missed you and the comfort you brought him. Your scent was calming to him, and it will forever be a saviour to his soul.

A week before killing the elder, Shoko had found you passed out in the infirmary, half of your body on a chair, and half of it off and on the ground.

She raised a brow at your position, wondering if you were tired and just fell asleep. On closer inspection, she could see the dark circles under your eyes, the thinning of your cheeks, and realised you've lost a lot of weight. The bottle on the chair were a bunch of sleeping pills, open and spilled, indicating you had taken some just prior.

If she wasn't worried about you before, she was definitely worried now.

And when you woke up, you were just like normal, which made Shoko question whether you were just overworked. She did know you fought a lot with the elders and were sent on difficult missions because they were out to get you. So with this information in mind, she was sure you were in need of a proper break, away from everything and everyone.

Which was why she advocated for you to get a break, away from Tokyo, to an island resort with lots of sunshine. A proper 4 day break. Of course, she got Satoru to pay for it since he was loaded and actually owed [name] for a previous thing.

But, the aftermath that came from that was the death of the elder 3 days after coming back.

Did that moment of clarity cause everything to happen? When you were on break, was that when everything went out of control? Was that when you decided this was the path you wanted to take?

You had looked completely back to normal after coming back that the worry Shoko and the boys held for you was almost like a false alarm - but they didn't realise that that in itself was the real alarm.

You were happy - or at least, you were smiling like you did before. It was wonderful to see you back to your regular self, something everyone mutually agreed on by the other sorcerers.

Until you murdered the elder, that is.

That was your first step into the world of depravity, away from the world of Jujutsu, and closer to the world called Hell.

[name]'s heart was soft. It was originally that way, and as you traversed through life, fell and got back up, your heart became stronger. However, it was just an outer layer, like a piece of armour for your fragile heart. You would pretend things were fine until it wasn't, even if you wore your heart on your sleeve, letting the people around you know what you thought, even if they thought you were joking.

It was almost too sudden when you realised all the armour around your soft heart had shattered to pieces.

It was like you lost a part of you that day, and you didn't know what could fix you. You didn't know if you could be fixed. So, you did the only thing you could do.

Pick up the pieces and do your best to put it back together, create a wall for your heart before it gets pierced again.

But before you were able to, a gunshot would shatter your glued armour, shattering in your hands, and your heart was laid bare, bleeding out without any way to stop.

And you wished and wished, for someone to reach out their hands to you and drag you out of your ocean of misery. But, nobody could reach deep enough, and you couldn't reach because you had no strength left to.

You couldn't reach out anymore. No matter how much you wanted, the same fate would await you, and you'd fall into such despair again.

You were tired. You were so, so, so tired.

The ones who made you like this, were ironically the ones who could take you out.

"____." You give them one last smile, a genuine one, as you feel the tears coming down your face, bringing your blade to your neck, before slicing and ending your own life.

You didn't want to die at the hands of your best friends. Not because they're your best friends, but because they would bear the burden of having killed you, and you didn't think they'd be able to take that, especially at the ripe age of 19. So, you'd rather do it for them, making it easier. After all, it would've been close to impossible going up against two of the strongest sorcerers.

You could only hear screams at you from the distance as the pain numbed your mind and body. Geto & Gojo were both screaming your name as they sprinted to you, their panicked shouts becoming background noise as they held onto your body, lifting you up to bring you to Shoko.

Your eyes could only see the terrified blue eyes from Satoru as he carried you on Geto's curse. He seemed to be wanting the curse to go faster, but Geto could only reply in an equally as panicked tone, saying this was his fastest one and that they're going as fast as they could to Shoko.

Your eyes are too beautiful to be panicking, you wanted to say. But, you couldn't. Blood had gotten into your oesophagus, making you struggle to breathe as you coughed and suffocated on your own blood.

"[NAME]! ARE YOU WITH ME?! STAY AWAKE!" Satoru's frantic shouts were barely ringing in your ears, but the creases on his face shouldn't have been there. They were going to give him wrinkles.

With one of the last ounces of your strength, you lifted your hand up to cup his cheek, then gently smooth the line between his brows, giving a weak smile.

Satoru let out a choked sound similar to a sob, understanding exactly what you were doing and what you wanted to say. He held your wrist, supporting you in whatever way he can as he could feel your body heat leaving you. Suguru placed a hand on your cheek, stroking the area under the eye, just like he always did.

It made you feel nostalgic, but you could barely see his expression, since tears had blurred your vision. You wanted to reach for Suguru before you had no more strength, so you gently moved your raised arm in that direction. Satoru, knowing exactly what you were doing, guided your hand to Suguru, who took your hand gently, holding it preciously between his two hands.

"Let's get you home, [name]." Were the last words Geto said to you. By 'home', he meant with them, back to Jujutsu, so they could forget everything that happened and start over. It would just be like those happy days, back when there was nothing to worry about.

In your state, you couldn't make out everything he was saying, but you knew they were kind words by his intonation and the caress he held for your bloodied hand.

You only gave them a smile, one that was apologetic, as you felt your consciousness fading away. The tears that blurred your vision finally fell, and the slight squeeze of your hand in Geto's made him realise that was it.

For you, it was time to sleep. It was a time for you to finally rest your tired mind and body, away from this world, and away from all those that you loved.

Suguru looked over at Satoru, who was biting his lip almost bruisingly as they trembled. With his sunglasses off, he could see everything in detail, including the way your cursed energy stopped, from when your body heat disappeared, and he couldn't feel you anymore. You were a hollow shell of a body now, and the last thing you left them was an apologetic smile on your face.

Away from the battleground, Shoko looked out the window, a pang of sadness hitting her all at once when she realised the screams belonging to Geto & Gojo resonated through the forest. She could barely just hear them, but she knew, the dread that filled her veins was apparent. She knew.

She closed her eyes, taking out the cigarette between her lips as she exstinguished it, her arm covering her eyes as she leaned back in her seat, silent tears falling down her cheeks.

"Quite sad, really. None of you realised [name] suffered this much." Kenjaku sowed the top of your head back together after revealing some information you kept hidden to Suguru & Satoru, and about your last moments and thoughts.

Seeing the despair and shock on their faces was intoxicating, especially when it came to the body he borrowed. Kenjaku knew the amount of love that had been given to the original owner of his current body, and using that, he could disarm even the strongest of sorcerers in the modern day.

It was a pity you were dead, but if you were alive and not dead, Kenjaku wouldn't have been able to take over your body now, would he?

It was especially sweet because the body hadn't even been cremated and still looked the same as it did 10 years ago. And those two who had been responsible for it were standing in front of him, in Shibuya station during Halloween.

Even better because you had died in their arms, so seeing you alive as Kenjaku was more of a sick joke than anything, but he loved that expression on the ones who had essentially allowed you to be this way.

"If only the people around them were able to reach out a hand before their descent into madness, none of this would have happened." Kenjaku ran a hand through your hair.

Satoru let out a low growl from his throat as he watched whoever was in your body use it, control it, and pretend to be you. No one could be you. You were gone. You were gone 10 years ago. And he knew - he knew you were not in front of him.

You died in his arms.

So there was absolutely no way that could be you. Absolutely not!

But, his six eyes said otherwise. It was you. Everything was you. It was the same you who died in his arms 10 years ago, the same you who gave him one last smile before leaving the earth.

It tore him to pieces inside.

Suguru put out an arm in front of Satoru, eyeing the cursed user in your body. He was pretending to be calm, but the way his hands and jaw clenched at the blatant disrepect Kenjaku had for your body was digusting. How dare he exhume your grave and take your body from it?

He felt a cold, almost murderous feeling bubble up inside him as he readied himself for combat.

That was not you. And it couldn't be, even if Satoru's six eyes recognised you to be alive. You weren't alive. You had been lost long ago, and whoever was in front of them was an imposter.

"[name]! How long are you going to let this little bitch take over your body?" Satoru finally burst, pissed at the prospect of someone disrespecting you.

Your hand, reacting almost instantaneously, went straight for the top of the head, right where Kenjaku's brain was. It stabbed straight through the cranium, a crunch eliciting a scream from Kenjaku himself as the brain was stabbed, wounding his real body. Kenjaku used your other arm to stop your attack on his weak point, feeling the blood pour out.

For a moment, it was silent except the light splatter and pitter patter of blood from your body. Suguru and Satoru stared at what happened in front of them, shocked that what Gojo said had ellicited such a response.

Kenjaku pulled your assaulting hand away, holding it in a death grip with the one he could control. The blood dripped down his face as he used his reverse cursed technique to heal the head wound, cracking the sides of his neck after he healed your head and his brain.

"Wow, I can't believe [name] went straight for the kill." Kenjaku laughed to himself. "But that's all there is to it. The soul and body are one, aren't they? Don't think this will happen again." He chuckled and waited for the hand to calm itself.

"Oh, and did you know [name] wrote a letter to each of you? Including Shoko. They knew they'd die so they hid it away in the school. I think they hid it somewhere important for each of you. Even they don't quite remember." Kenjaku couldn't quite recall what the contents of the letters were as the memory itself was fuzzy. He wanted to see it as their strong friendship strained due to his taking over of [name]'s body.

He wondered why this specific memory was blurred out, and he couldn't recall anything from your memories about this specific thing?

It was like you were deliberately making sure you didn't remember it, and deleted the memory from your head so no one could find the letters.

A letter? The strongest duo's eyes narrowed at the imposter in their dead best friend's body, wondering if it's a part of their tricks. But it was also hard to not believe them, since they look like you. And everything about you, they would believe.

Because you were the type of person who would write letters to them.

"I don't know what they say, but they've been there since before [name] died." Kenjaku tapped his temple, "If you can get out of here, I implore you to find them."

That pissed the two off. Kenjaku was implying they wouldn't get out of this alive, or at least, to see the letters that were supposedly left for them. It pissed them off to no end, and they prepared to battle, not wanting to take part of his nonsense any longer.

Dear Satoru,

I'm glad to have met you. I love you. I love Suguru. I love Shoko. I love everyone. We had so many fun times, and it was the best time of my life. Everything was so bright, cheery and brought me so much happiness, I can't even tell you the extent of it.

I hope you don't mind this letter. If you've found it after I've defected or after I'm dead, I can't express with words how much doing this pains me. If I can't use my words, I have to use my actions, right? I hope you don't forgive me for what I've done. It's unacceptable and you have every right to hate me. I've killed innocent people for the purpose of my goal. Horrible, right? I really hope you won't forgive me.

But I know you. You will. You're just that kind of person.

I'll miss your bright blue eyes and white hair. I'll miss your loud and boisturous personality. I'll miss how your heart races every time I hug you. I'll miss you nuzzling into my head when we hug. I'll miss the soft 'sweet dreams' you say every time you carry me to bed after I fall asleep studying. I'll miss when you take photos of me everyday. I'll miss your annoyingness. I'll miss your teasing words every day. I'll miss your blushing cheeks when you're embarrassed. I'll miss your comical, over the top reactions. I'll miss you eating a whole bunch of sweets in one setting. I'll miss the crepe shop we'd often go to. I'll miss how you make me feel safe. I'll miss your voice. I'll miss you.

If reincarnation exists, I want to meet you again. I want to see your smile again. I want to call you 'toru again. I want to give you the biggest hug, and feel the thrum of your heart racing. Then, I'll give you a kiss on your head, just like you always do to me before I sleep.

You're strong, 'toru. Make sure to stay safe and be careful. I don't want to meet you on the other side so soon. Grow up to be even stronger, and reform Jujutsu's society. I know you can do it!

By the way, I left your favourite recipe of the sweets you liked that I made. That way, you can enjoy them anytime.

Love, [name].

P.S. Don't eat so many sweet things at once!!! I don't want you getting cavities!!!

Dear Suguru,

You were the first one to notice anything going on, and for that, I'm grateful. I'm sorry I brushed you off so coldly. I didn't know how to ask for help. I wish I'd have listened to your heartfelt words to rely on you a little more.

If you see this, I've probably already defected or I'm dead. But I just want you to know, I love you. I want to see you again. I miss you. I want to hug you and let you know everything I'm thinking. I want you to give me one of your strong hugs, knocking the air out of me. I also equally want your soft, tender hugs, as you whisper comforting words to me. I want to hear your voice again. I want to run my fingers through your hair again and question why you only use soap on it. I want to cook with you again. Have late night discussions. Cuddle. Piggyback rides. Kisses on the cheek. Allowing me to latch onto you like a koala when I'm cold since you run hot. I miss our times together. I miss you.

If reincarnation is real, we will definitely meet again. I want to see you smile from the bottom of your heart, and enjoy the most delicious food! And, if no curses are in that world, then you'll finally have a food you don't like - I'll be willing to lend an ear so you can whisper it to me! I want to cup your cheeks and tell you you've done well, for enduring during tough times and standing right back up. I want to finally give you a piggyback ride, since I was never able to fulfil that wish here. I want to be able to call you Sugu again.

Stay strong, Sugu. Make sure to stay safe. Since I know you hate the taste of curses, I've left the key to my safe with candies that are really good at cleansing the palette. Don't ever let these get into 'toru's hands or else you'll never see them again. I got these custom made just for you, and I've left a note with instructions on where to get it and what special order it was. I was supposed to give it to you sooner, but I left before then. Hope you enjoy them!

Love, [name].

P.S. Please take care of yourself!!! And don't use soap on your hair!!! Use proper shampoo and conditioner since your hair's so pretty!!!

Dear Shoko,

I'm sorry you probably had to see my dead body.

If I had spilled my heart out to you about my troubles, I wonder if it would've helped? I kept things bottled up for too long and it's become like this. I'm sorry I wasn't able to keep our promise. We didn't get to go to Disneyland like we promised all those months ago - the tickets are just sitting somewhere rotting away. I really wanted to go with you, Sugu and 'toru. It would've been great fun, and we would've made so many memories.

I miss your voice, Shoko. I miss your laugh. Your insults. Your frankness. Your weirdness. Your chillness. You. Heck, I even miss your scent of smoke. I miss you so much. I want to see you.

Can I meet you again? In a world without curses, where we don't need to risk our lives and watch our loved ones die. If I ever get reincarnated, can you find me? Or I can find you? I want to enjoy our times together again, feel the breeze against our skin, sing joyfully, joke around, play around, and take many photos together. That's the only way I want to spend it - and I want it so much you don't even know. In that kind of world, we can finally be happier. We can finally smile geniunely. I'll be able to finally see you again.

I bought some smokes for you and it's in my safe. Suguru has the key. Take some of the candies too, they might help in cleansing your palette every now and then.

I love you.

Love, [name].

P.S. Too much smoking isn't good for you!!! Please quit or at least do it a little less!!! I worry for your lung health...

Trembling hands read their letters as they were found around Jujutsu High school. It had your cursed energy as a seal, but the minute it was touched by any of the three, the seal would break. The letter itself was blank, with a couple of pages for each of them. The words appeared once they injected their cursed energy into it.

Words written by you appeared on the page, covering all the pages given for each letter. As the trio read the letters you had kept hidden from them, they couldn't help but let their unshed tears fall.

They were all known as strong sorcerers who don't cry. But, you brought them to their knees with your sincerity, and you were lost too soon. It was the last thing they had from you, and the warmth in every word of those letters struck a chord deep in their hearts, remembering 10 years ago and the day you had died.

"I kept [name]'s room clean," Suguru started, his eyes glossy. He had already cried, but every time he wanted to read the words off the letter, he was ready to cry again. He didn't want to. "Everything's the same."

It was as if they went down memory lane. Nothing had changed in your room. It was just as Geto said, it was exactly the same.

Whenever Geto had some time, he would clean your room, just like how he knew you would like it. It was something he sometimes did if he stayed over to help you study or just to hang out. So, he knew where everything was.

Immediately going to the safe, he put in a random number, guessing your birthday, then he used the key entrusted to him and unlocked it.

"What a bad password..." Geto couldn't help but laugh lightly, but his laughter died in his throat when he opened the safe.

The first thing the three of them saw was a couple of picture frames, each of them with pictures of the four of them that they remember taking when they were younger. The photos where all of them were happy, grinning and had no care in the world, it made their throats dry, clamming up uncomfortably.

Geto picked up the picture frames, taking a closer look at them with Shoko.

"Oh, look, there's more." Gojo peered in, seeing the promised recipe, bag of lollies, Disneyland tickets and smokes from each of their letters. He took them out and handed them what was gifted.

As they examined the items, Gojo read the recipe, a page written neatly by you. It was as if he could imagine you sitting in your room, writing it just for him while you tasted the different variations that you recommended in the recipe.

Geto put the photos face down, falling flat on his back on your bed as his arm covered his eyes.

Shoko stared at him for a moment, deciding to join him by doing the same thing. Your bed was only a double bed (you had requested a bigger bed for your first paycheck) and didn't have that much space for the three of them, much less four.

Seeing the two of them do the exact same thing, Satoru joined them, but instead, he sat up against your headboard, laying his legs in a cross legged position.

He fipped the picture frames back up, a bittersweet smile on his lips as he basked in the silence and warmth of your room he was so familiar with.

He closed his eyes, and like the others, thought of you.

Would it have been different had you told them everything you were feeling? If you talked through exactly what was causing you grief, and what could be done about it? Were they not enough to help you back up? Would you have felt so suffocated that you chose to die? Would you have still died in their arms? Would Kenjaku have still taken over your body? Still left them behind?

They say sorcerers don't die without regrets.

And they knew if they died, their one and only regret would be you.

At a certain crepe shop, Gojo Satoru waited for his crepe, one he decorated with strawberries, whipped cream and a drizzle of chocolate. It was one he used to frequent with his old friend, and he'd come here every week with them to buy a crepe. It wasn't the order he normally went with, but today, he felt nostalgic.

It had been so long since the last time he had visited the crepe shop with you, but it remained fresh in his mind even after reincarnating many times over. What timeline was he in now? He counted 7. That was 7 lifetimes without you. Suguru & Shoko were also counting, and they did whatever they could to find out where you would be. But, each and every one after their first, you were nowhere to be found.

Suguru & Shoko would sometimes come to the crepe shop, but they were also busy making a living in a world without curses. The tragedy from their first life remained fresh in their current ones, holding them so strongly they didn't want to give up.

But unknown to them, you were right under their nose all along, and you frequently went to that same crepe shop at times just before or after they were there, a mysterious force pushing you to the place.

It was at one time, where Satoru thought he saw you, that it reignited the flame that had been dormant for so long, to finally see you, after so many timelines and lifetimes apart.

Your voice, followed by your laughter, and your hand. He had you memorised, and he was so thankful for his good memory that recognised you. It was the closest he got, and when he heard you, saw a part of you, he was sprinting, but you had already disappeared onto the train, and the last thing he saw was the back of your head.

It was brief, but it was enough for his mind to go overdrive and let the others know his findings, that it was possible for them to find you this lifetime, and the crepe shop was the biggest key to it all.

And, when they cracked the code and finally found you, all the memories, feelings and thoughts from their original life came back to them, allowing them to finally see you in a world without curses, even if they had to wait 7 lifetimes.

If they had to put it into years, those 7 lifetimes were equivalent to over 600 years of not seeing you.

But, this lifetime, they finally found you.

Over 600 years in the making, and you also found them.

A/N: I CRIED WRITING THIS. It hurt me 😭 here's part 2!

There's also somewhat of a prequel as well from Geto's POV if you were interested!

Here's also an AU in an alternate timeline with information that takes place directly after the original timing here.

If y'all want some fluff here's the masterlist for the rest of the series 🕊️

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geeky-politics-46 · 7 months

Text

Kinktober 2023 - Day 6

Sex Tape with Doctor Stephen Strange

"A Picture Is Worth 1000 Words"

Smut - Explicit content - NSFW - 18+ only!

Summary: You are feeling self-concious & down on your appearance, but Stephen has an unconventional idea of how to make you realize how sexy & beautiful you really are.

Warnings: Smut (NSFW) - 18+ ONLY - body image issues, voyeurism & exhibitionism via photo & video, dirty talk, swearing, pet names, oral sex, creampie, vaginal sex, slight daddy kink, a bit of fluff & a little angst.

You weren't even sure what had triggered your self-image issues at the moment. Honest to God, you were just sitting in bed watching a YouTube video, pursuing the sidebar recommended videos when you started comparing yourself to other people.

It didn't matter if it was just a random ad or a promo for a TV show. You started sizing yourself up to all the actresses, models, and even some normal people. No matter who it was, you felt you couldn't compare.

Your stomach was too big. Your butt was too small. You were too short. Too plain looking. Hell, sometimes you weren't even sure how you compared to average. You didn't think you were hideous, but you forever felt like the ugly duckling. Like the potential to be beautiful was there. It just never blossomed. Or, like you sabotaged being pretty by not having enough restraint to eat better or lose weight.

For once in your life, you wanted to be the bombshell. You were too weird to be the girl next door. You always fell into the quirky/cute and funny category. People fell for you once they got to know your personality, but you knew that never once had you stopped a guy dead in his tracks across the room.

In an effort to make yourself feel smaller, you dug around for your massive old sweatshirt. The one you wore whenever you were feeling sad. The material had piled up in places, and it was starting to get holes in others, but the super stretchy material still felt just as big and cozy as if it was brand new. The dark eggplant purple color was also somehow soothing compared to the mostly blacks and grays of your daily wardrobe.

You had settled back in, deep in your own thoughts, when your partner entered the bedroom. You had been with Doctor Stephen Strange for a while now. Long enough that you had more or less informally moved into the Sanctum. You got to spend more time with Stephen and didn't have to pay rent. It was a win-win. The only downside was that you couldn't hide from him when your inner demons reared up.

You didn't even realize he had been talking to you as he changed out of his sorcerer's robes and into his sweats for bed. It wasn't until he sat down in front of you and lifted your chin up to look directly at him that you realized you weren't paying any attention to a thing he was saying.

"What's wrong, sweetie?"

You hated the genuine concern on his face. He spent his days literally saving the universe, and here you were trapped inside your own spiraling thoughts.

"Nothing is wrong."

You said it while staring down at your hands. You were never good at hiding things from Stephen when you were face to face.

"Even if I wasn't a brilliant doctor, MD, and PhD, I know that's your 'I'm sad' sweatshirt. So something is definitely wrong."

You closed your eyes and shook your head, trying to jiggle loose the thoughts that were waying you down. Not wanting to waste Stephen's time with your shallow worries. Yeah, he was your boyfriend, but he had plenty more vastly important things to do than talk you off a self-image cliff.

"It's stupid, Stephen."

"Don't care. You've listened to me say stupid stuff plenty of times. This just makes us one closer to even."

You rolled your eyes at him, and you knew he wasn't about to give up. Stephen was the most stubborn person you had ever met. In fact, his stubbornness was part of why he pursued you for so long before you finally agreed to go out with him. If he was set on finding out what was bothering you, nothing would stop him until you told him.

So after another moment of trying to get him off the topic, you finally relented and told him what had you feeling down. Shrinking down farther into your sweatshirt as you spoke, fumbling for the right words. Letting the cozy fabric serve as its own kind of armor.

"I don't even know what got me thinking it, but I'm just feeling down on myself. That there just isn't anything about me physically that is special. I don't think I'm ugly, I just don't get why you bothered to even give me a second glance. Let alone what keeps you interested. You are the great Doctor Strange. You are so hot, Stephen, and I'm just me. I'm just plain. I'm chubby with stretch marks. You are gorgeous. You could literally be with the most beautiful women in the world."

You could see him almost flinch when you called yourself plain and that you doubted how enamored he was with you. Even if he knew it was only a passing thought, he never wanted you to question his love for you. Ever.

When it took a few moments for him to say anything in response, you immediately started to take it all back. Not wanting to drag him down into your funk with you.

"See, I shouldn't have said anything, I'm just having a bad night and -"

Stephen cut you off with a passionate kiss. The kind of kiss that could make you forget your own name. Cupping your face in both of his hands before pulling away from your lips to place several more small kisses on your forehead and in your hairline. Gradually adjusting so he could pull you closer and wrap his arms tighter around you.

"First of all, I love you so much you don't even know. So don't think for one second I would rather be with anyone else. Second of all, I know that you don't necessarily see what I see when you look in the mirror, and you don't even have to believe me, but you are gorgeous. Do you not see that half the other guys practically trail you around like puppies? Rogers turns bright red when you smile at him, and it's a wonder Barnes and Wilson haven't followed you home like strays yet."

That made you laugh. You did know Steve had harbored a crush on you before you started dating Stephen. Tony had let that spill one night after a party. Both Sam and Bucky were such flirts all the time with everyone. Of course, they always acted sweet on you. You assumed it was just them or their way of being nice. You would have to pay better attention next time you saw them, though. Just to see.

"If one of them does follow me home, can I keep him?"

You squinted your eyes and pouted your lips at Stephen. You loved giving him a hard time, and he loved giving you one right back.

"Absolutely not. Even if they scratch and howl at the door all night long. I'm the only one who gets to keep strays, and that only applies to America. On a good day, maybe Parker."

You giggled and shook your head in agreement. America was definitely a great addition to your little family. It did lift your spirits a little thinking about all of that, but it still didn't leave you feeling better about yourself.

Stephen could see the way you were picking at the skin on your hands. Like you were trying to pick away the self-consciousness or what you felt were imperfections. It was a habit he noticed you fell into when you were extra hard on yourself. So, in an effort to distract you and stop you from picking at your skin, he took one of your hands in both of his.

"Do you remember the day you held my hand the first time? Do you have any idea how terrified I was? I was terrified that you were suddenly going to realize how broken and ugly my hands are. How damaged I am, and realize just how below your own league you were dating. Still are, by the way, so maybe I shouldn't say anything. You are the sexiest most beautiful woman I have ever met, inside and out. Every inch of you is incredible and perfect to me. I thought that before you even said a word to me, and getting to know you, and falling in love with you has only made me more sure. There is no one in this universe I could ever find sexier or more special."

"Tell you what, I have an idea..."

Stephen stood up from the bed, moving over to shut the bedroom door. Throwing the lock, too. Now that you had a teenager running about the Sanctum, it was better safe than sorry. Then, he pulled his phone from his pocket. Setting it on airplane mode as he walked back over to you.

"How about I show you what I see? Give you some actual physical proof of how beautiful you are? A picture is worth a thousand words. I imagine some more revealing, naughty photos would be worth even more."

You chuffed at him and raised a questioning brow at his suggestion.

"Stephen, are you seriously suggesting that I let you take naked photos of me as a way of making me feel better about myself? Are you sure that isn't just gonna make you feel better?"

His signature cheeky grin was plastered on his face, and his bright blue eyes were twinkling with mischief.

"Can't it do both? Besides, you know I've asked before for something I can enjoy when I can't have you with me, and I think you look perfect right now. Already in our bed. Already cozy and dressed for bed. Few layers to take off. This is the you I want to see when I'm not here with you."

He came over to where you were still sitting on the bed. An extra swagger in his step and a grin because of the blush you were now sporting. He started to pull teasingly at the hem of your sweatshirt with the hand he didn't have his phone in.

"Come on, take this off. I want you to see how sexy you are. I promise I will let you delete them if you want, although I certainly wouldn't mind keeping a couple for myself, but I want you to see how you look when it's just you and me. Right here, in this bed. The version of you that only I get to see, at least I do hope it's only me. A woman who puts all those supermodels and Playmates to shame. Even first thing in the morning. A goddess if one ever existed, even with bedhead and morning breath."

Layer by layer, you let Stephen slowly strip off your clothes and arrange you on the bed. His fingers and lips adoring every new inch of skin that he exposed before proceeding to take picture after picture. Lovingly caressing every spot you deemed less than perfect. Letting him talk you through pose after pose. Some were simple and basic, normal poses. Some a bit more sultry with little left to imagine. The less clothing remained, the more bold he got with your poses.

As your impromptu photoshoot went on, he also tried to distract you from feeling self-conscious about your body coming into view. Sometimes, by making you laugh. Sometimes, by getting a goofy look on his face as he just kind of stared at you. Almost awestruck.

"You really have no idea how much I fantasize about you, do you? How much of my day I spend trying not to think about you? How when we first started dating, I felt like a teenager trying to control his raging hormones because all I could think of was this. What it would be like if I got the privilege to get this beautiful, incredible woman naked in my bed. That I swore if I got you here, I would never let you leave. I hate that someone ever made you feel like you are anything less than gorgeous, whether in your ratty sad sweatshirt or all dressed up. Although, this, no clothes at all, is definitely my personal favorite."

You tried not to tear up at his genuine sweetness. You could feel your cheeks blushing at his statement, too. You buried your face into the pillow you were holding before softly turning and peeking out at him from the side. Only to find him waiting for the moment you locked eyes with him to take a photo.

In a sudden burst of confidence, you bit your bottom lip and rolled onto your back. Letting the entirety of your body be on display. Laying back and resting your head on the pillow and stretching your arms up overhead, your legs spreading on their own. You closed your eyes and arched your back as you inhaled deeply. Like you were a cat basking in the warmth of the sun.

Your mind was completely clear of all thought until you heard a stuttered breath from your lover. It was a sound you had never heard Stephen make before. It sounded like he was looking at a priceless piece of art or one of the seven wonders. He sounded like he was in awe. Like he was in awe at the sight of your body and your beauty.

You were about to dismiss his, what you were sure had to be, over embellished praise, but then you opened your eyes. You were rendered speechless by the look of utter wonder on his face as he let his cerulean blue eyes wash over every inch of you. For possibly the first time, you saw him really seeing you, and it melted any remaining self-doubt you had in that moment.

You immediately reached out to pull Stephen to you. Wrapping your arms around his neck and kissing him sweetly. Rubbing your nose against his and whispering loving thanks against his lips.

"Thank you, Stephen. I love you, and even though I don't necessarily see what you see, you always make me feel beautiful. Why don't we take a few pictures together, or maybe a video or two? Maybe I want something for when you aren't here too."

Stephen's eyes darkened at the suggestion. You had your suspicion that Stephen had a bit of an exhibition kink. You had sent each other pics before, a short video clip or two, and sexted all the time. You knew the idea of filming the two of you fucking would intrigue him. A wicked smile found it's way to his face.

"Oh sweetheart, you have no idea how many times I've thought of you asking that or that I've thought of asking. Are you really okay with filming us fucking? Of course it's just for the two of us. Sorcerer's honor. "

Stephen started trying to fiddle with the phone, trying to figure out the best way to set it up to film the two of you. Finding it hard to concentrate after you started leaving kisses on his neck. Stopping to bite and suck at the spot just below his earlobe before continuing to whisper his darkest desires in his ear.

"Well, Stephen, actually the idea does get me a little hot. Maybe if the video turns out really good, a few seconds or minutes can get leaked to a naughty site or two. Anonymously, of course. I don't want to share you with any other woman, but I wouldn't mind showing off all the ways I worship you. Let everyone see how lucky I am. Maybe get some outside opinions of how we look together."

Stephen's eyes practically rolled back in his head at the thought. He never would suggest it himself, but he kind of loved the sound of that. Of the world getting to see how good the two of you looked together. Of seeing how well you both fit together. How your bodies were made for each other.

He scrambled off the bed using the pile of books on the dresser to create a tripod to set up the phone. Hitting record and making sure the bed was centered in the frame before coming back to join you in the sheets again. He used his magic to strip himself of his clothes. If you two were going to make a sex tape, he was gonna put some extra showmanship in it.

You couldn't help but giggle as you reach your arms out towards him. Stepben didn't waste a minute before he started crawling up your body. Teasing and nipping at your bare skin and making sure to snuggle and rub his goatee against you. Your hands immediately grabbed in his dark brown hair, loving how soft and full it felt in your fingers.

As your lips connected, you both groaned in pleasure. Your bodies grinding and rubbing. Letting your hands roam all over Stephen's body now that you had plenty of him to touch. You could feel Stephen's cock already erect between you. Truth be told, taking those photos of you had essentially acted as foreplay for him. He was ready to go by the time he was setting up the camera.

You moaned when you felt his hard shaft slide against the crease of your hip, so close to your sex that was starting to ache for him. Your legs reflexively spread even more on the large bed, and your nails scraped down Stephen's sides.

"Is there something you want, baby? Tell Daddy what you need."

A sly smile on his face as he spoke. Loud enough to make sure the camera heard. Descending back on you and starting to kiss your neck. Sucking a patch or skin into his mouth hard enough to ensure you would bear a mark the next day.

Your brain finally coming back into focus when he playfully bit the same sensitive spot. His bright blue eyes met yours, and he gave you a cheeky wink.

"Come on, pretty baby. Don't get all shy on me now. Not after you let me take all those naughty pictures of you. Plus, this part was your idea, after all. So you better speak up."

A soft groan pulled from your throat as you arched your back and ran your hands up his strong arms. Letting your fingernails scrape along his shoulders. Leaving little red scratches marking him as yours.

"Want you, Stephen. Want you to fuck me. Pretty please, Stephen. Fuck me like only you can, baby."

He rewarded you with a deep kiss, letting his teeth nip at your bottom lip before he started working his way down your neck. Stopping to whisper a "that's my good girl" in your ear before continuing down to your collarbones. Raising his voice once again so it would be audible on the video when he started speaking again.

"You know you are the only one I want to fuck right? This is the only body that gets me this fucking hard. Your's is the only pretty little pussy I dream about filling up every chance I get. Want you full of my cum all the time. Want everyone to know you're mine."

You felt over the moon as Stephen started to kiss his way down your body. Stopping and spending a little bit of extra attention every time he hit a spot that elicited a gasp or moan. Making you arch your back to give him access to every inch of bare skin you could.

He momentarily popped back up to kiss your lips. Suddenly taking your hand in his and lowering it so you were cupping his hard length. Letting his hips rut forward as you started to eagerly massage his hard cock. Already moving to sit up, anticipating taking him in your mouth, only for him to push you back down on the bed.

"Nope, I'm not done with you, baby, lay back. Just wanted you to feel how hard you got me. Feel how much taking those naughty photos of you turned me on? And they are all mine to enjoy, just like my cock is all yours to enjoy."

With that, he promptly began working his way back down your body. Coming to rest between your thighs, pulling your legs up over his shoulders. Leaving small nips on the sensitive flesh of your inner thigh and rubbing his facial hair against your skin to tease you.

A soft "Stephen, please!" escaped from your lips as you impatiently waited for his lips and tongue to work their magic on you. Feeling your hips thrust on their own when you felt him blow against your wet cunt. Making your sex flutter and clench. One of his favorite sights.

"Make sure you don't hold back any of those pretty noises darling, want to make sure everyone can hear. Look at the camera as I eat you out, baby."

You followed his instructions and let your head turn to the side. Keeping your eyes open as you stared into the lens. Trying to fight the inkling of self-consciousness tugging at the back of your mind.

Those thoughts vanished completely the moment you felt Stephen's warm tongue make its first pass through your folds. All you could focus on was the feeling of his mouth on you. The scratch of his goatee against your most sensitive spots. He was taking his time. Lavishing your cunt with long licks and sucking kisses.

Stephen was a perfectionist, and that translated into every aspect of his life. Including sex. His photographic memory helping to make sure he knew exactly what way to lick and suck at your pussy to bring you to climax in record time. Only using his fingers on occasion. He could get you there with his mouth alone. Tonight was clearly going to be one of those nights.

Your back arched as he suckled on your clit. Keeping your gaze locked on the camera lens. Making sure to give Stephen the sights and sounds he wanted for your video. A long moan falling when you felt his tongue thrusting in and out of you. Hitching your legs up higher and farther apart so he could go deeper while letting your hips start to rut against his face.

As soon as he could feel you getting close to orgasm, Stephen pulled away and pounced on you once again. Wasting no time before he started to slowly thrust his hard cock into you. His lips biting at your neck.

He growled when you whimpered at the feeling of his cock bottoming out inside you. Holding perfectly still and letting you start to squirm beneath him. Wanting you to beg him to move.

"Tell me what you want. Want you to say it again. Say it to the camera, sweetheart. Tell them why you're whimpering."

Your face now contorted into a pout as you tried so hard to get any sort of friction. Stephen's hips pushed flush to yours, holding you firmly in place.

"Want you to fuck me, Stephen. Need you to fuck me hard. Make me feel good, daddy. Please make me cum. Please."

He smiled and kissed you deeply. Bringing his hands to cup your face and giving you another moment of sweet intimacy before he gave you what you wanted. Pulling away and pulling your legs up over his shoulders. Scooting you just a little so the camera would be able to see his cock stretching and filling you. Once he had you right where he wanted you he began thrusting.

"You asked for it, sweetheart. You turn me on so fucking much. This is just gonna be the first time I make you cum tonight. I'm not gonna stop until you feel like a goddess. My goddess."

You reached up to intertwine you fingers with his as he started fucking you harder. Leaning forward so your ass was slightly lifted up off of the bed and his tip was pummeling that sweet spongy spot on your front wall. Making you clench around him each time he hit it. Your voice coming out in little squeaks and the sound of skin slapping punctuating Stephen's movements.

You could already feel your orgasm building when Stephen moved to bring one hand down to begin rubbing at your clit. Pulling his cock out long enough to smear some of your wetness on the swollen bundle of nerves. Your cunt immediately clenching around him as he started tracing small circles there with his thumb.

"That's it, my love. Can feel you getting close. You better cum soon because I'm not gonna be able to hold on much longer. Wanna fill you up every day. Mark you as mine. Inside and out. Fuck, baby, I'm gonna cum."

Stephen's own dirty talk getting the best of him. His head dropping down to watch his cock slamming in and out of your drenched cunt. Your pussy gripping tight around him sending him over the edge. His thrusts getting faster and his fingers on your clit mirroring his hips.

He let out a deep groan as he started cumming inside you. The feeling of his warm thick cum filling you triggering your own orgasm. Your cunt drenching his cock and his cum filling you completely. Your moans mingling in harmony with Stephen's. Your hands that were still clasped gripping each other tighter.

Stephen's body falling onto yours and your lips meeting for slow, sweet kisses as your highs continued to ebb and flow. The sensations slowly fading as you came back down together. The feeling of Stephen's weight on top of you lulling you closer to sleep. All worries and neuroses disappearing and receding back into the depths of your mind.

You were with Stephen, and Stephen loved you exactly as you were. He only had eyes for you, and he would love you no matter what. Even on days when you couldn't see your beauty, you knew he would help you to see it. Even when you didn't love yourself, he would give you enough love for both of you.

Eventually, Stephen rolled to the side and pulled you with him. Settling you under the covers and holding you close. Pressing kisses all over your face as you floated in the twilight space between waking and sleep. Not moving or pulling away until your breath settled into a steady rhythm that told him you were close to sleep.

Then Stephen stood up and went over to the phone. Stopping the recording and bringing the phone back over to the bed. Setting it down on his nightstand and purposely not setting his usual morning alarm. He wanted to sleep in with you tomorrow. He would deal with Wong later.

You were too exhausted to review the products of your photoshoot right now, but the next time you were feeling down or self-conscious, Stephen would be ready to show you just how beautiful you really were. If you still didn't believe him, maybe he would bring up the idea of an outside opinion like you suggested. You would have the world drooling over you, and he would get to gloat that you were all his.

--------------------------------

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echobx · 11 days

Text

not my type - Rafe Cameron x plus size!fem!reader

summary: you meet Rafe at a bar and he starts flirting with you. little do you know that he's also the reason you are in the obx at all because you are taking care of a business deal for your dad

warnings: swearing, smut (p in v (protected), face sitting, dirty talk)

word count: 3k

author's note: for my wifey @notdxbya <3 also, I'm aware that Rafe is a little ooc here, that's because I pictured him after Ward is dead, and he has gotten clean and is healthy and taking care of business. that's all. this is my first time actually writing Rafe and I'm lowkey scared lol

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You are sitting at a bar and the guy a few seats over keeps looking at you. Usually when guys looked at you, they did it with a kind of disgust, but he looked more intrigued than anything. “What's your issue, asshat,” you scoff without looking at him, downing your drink. “Nothing, just looking,” he shrugs his shoulders, a smirk playing on his pink lips. “You're not my type,” you say, eyeing him carefully. The short light blonde hair, muscles covered by a flimsy linen button down, gold rings bejeweling his long fingers. “Shame. You aren't mine either,” he replies, but he licks his lips; his eyes darting down to your cleavage. Boobs pressed together in a red corset. “That why you keep looking?” you laugh and gesture at the bartender to get you another drink.

“Where are you from?” the guy asks while getting up and walking over to you, taking the seat next to yours. He’s tall, taller than any guy you'd ever been with. “Not from here,” you smile cheekily and take a sip from your drink. “I figured,” he laughs, and it sounds genuine. “I'm Rafe, by the way.” “Y/n,” you reply, taking his hand that he's holding out for you to shake. “So, what are you doing here?” he asks. “I don't know if I should share such information with a stranger,” you whisper. “Stranger? We're on a first name basis already, sugar.” “Sugar?” you lift an eyebrow, and he rubs his jaw, maybe to show defeat, but you're not sure. “Guess, I'm too cocky for you.” “No, I like it when guys know what they want. But as we've already established, we're not each other's type,” you remind him.

“And what is your type?” he asks, leaning against the bar and looking at you through his blue eyes. “I'm not into blonde guys,” you say and take another drink. “I know why I'm not your type, not even hard to figure that one out. It's always the same with guys like you.” “Guys like me?” He seems offended by your assumption, but you elaborate anyway. “Guys who live off daddy's money, who spent their whole days golfing or fucking; preferably a different skinny bitch every single day. Guys who think they are the epitome of humanity,” you say, not really paying as much attention to his wonder struck face as you should. “Guys like you would never go out with a girl like me, because social standards are the only thing you ever believed in.” “Interesting. Are you always this shallow or do I have to go dye my hair?” he jokes. “I speak from experience,” you look at him, and he purses his lips for a moment before emptying his glass. “Just a year earlier and you might've been spot on there, sugar.” “I'm rarely wrong,” you whisper. “What changed?” “My dad died.” “My condolences.” “It's okay, I'm over it by now,” he shakes his head lightly. “I see,” you look away and let the uncomfortable silence settle between the two of you.

“Are you gonna tell me where you're from?” he asks. “You can guess. Got a free pass on it after my half right assumptions,” you smile, and he reciprocates it, adding a little huff. “All right. You're on vacation, no boyfriend, and you're just looking for a little fun.” You laugh loudly. “You just described literally every girl in this bar. Try a little harder, darling.” “Okay, fine. You're from the city. You know what you want and are not afraid to take it.” “Warmer, but still not there,” you wink at him. “Okay, help me out here, sugar,” he sighs defeated. “Just give me one weirdly specific one, doesn't have to be correct, just try it,” you search his eyes for a second before looking away again. “You made a completely wrong assumption about a stranger based on your insecurities.” His words hit you hard and raw, but you didn't let it show. “Enlighten me, then,” you challenge him, and he leans in to whisper in your ear. “You don't think I think you're hot, when the opposite is the case.” Your heart starts pounding in your chest, and you feel the all too familiar heat rise in your cheeks and stomach. Clearing your throat, you down your drink, immediately asking for another one. “Didn't expect that one, did’ya,” he taunts. “Shame that you're not my type,” you flip your hair to the side, running your fingertips over the edge of the glass in front of you. “I could change your mind on that,” he suggests. “I'm not keeping you from trying,” you chuckle, and the next few hours are spent with shameless flirting and drinking.

The next day you get yourself ready for a meeting. You are supposed to meet with some rich asshole and work out a deal that will benefit both his and your dad's company. You get to the meeting early, making sure that your suit fits and checking your makeup in the restroom before letting the receptionist lead you to the conference room. “Mr. Cameron will be with you in a bit,” she tells you, eyeing you wearily before stepping away. You set up your laptop and the paperwork, but the man is late, something you have always hated. You walk to look out the window and onto the sea when you hear the door open and someone walks in. “Thank you for taking some time and waiting for me, there was an incident in the office that I needed to take care of,” he says and sits down without looking at you and not seeing the shocked expression on your face. Rafe looks even hotter in the suit than he had the night before, and you hate that you even think of him like that. “No problem,” you smile and walk behind him to your seat when his head perks up. “You-” the words seem to be stuck in his throat. “I'm supposed to take care of this deal since my father has an important appointment in New York that came in just yesterday,” you explain. “I see. We should get to it then,” he nods and after three hours of extensive discussion you have finally come to a mutual agreement that you know will be to your father's liking.

“Why didn't you mention any of this last night?” he asks. “If I had known your last name, I would've. But also, you should update your website. I was prepared to meet with someone else, your dead father, I presume.” “Yes, I should,” he mumbles. “Good,” you nod and pack your things together, wanting to leave and get back home as quickly as possible. “Do you like dinner?” he blurts out just as you are about to step out of the room. “Who doesn't?” you smirk. “Would you go out with me?” Rafe asks more directly, and you bite your cheek before nodding. “Good, I'll pick you up later. You're staying at the Country Club, right?” he asks and you nod again. “Perfect. 8pm, I won't be late,” he smiles, and you laugh a little while stepping out and walking.

The evening came quicker than you expected, and you found yourself sitting opposite Rafe at a fancy restaurant. “Are you always trying this hard for a hookup?” you ask bluntly, and he nearly chokes on his steak. “Excuse me?” “You heard me pretty well,” you say and take a bite of your food. “I usually don't, no,” he finally answers, nipping on his wine. “You're very direct.” “That something bad?” you cock an eyebrow and he shakes his head. “No. It's nice, like a fresh breath even. Dating is rather boring when you've lived in the same spot your whole life.” “Never had any issues with it to be honest, at least when it comes to the diversity of it.” “Hardly comparable, New York and Kildare,” he notes. “So, this is a date?” you question, and he smiles to hide the light blush that creeps on his cheeks. “Would your dad be okay with you dating a business partner?” “My dad isn't here, and we don't know if this is a date yet,” you counter, and he puts his hands up in defense. “I'm not about to ruin a good deal is all I'm saying.” “Well, you're still not my type, so it's probably better anyway.” “Right,” he mumbles and gets back to eating.

After some time you find back to a more easy-going manner, just like you had the night before. But the more he flirts with you, the less you can remember why you had initially not had any interest in him.

“I just have one question,” you say as you stand next to him in the elevator that leads you down to the garage where he had parked. “And?” “Have you ever even been with anyone like me?” you eye him wearily as he's towering next to you. “No, but there's always a first time round, right?” In a split second decision you pull him down by his collar and kiss him. His lips are soft and warm and his tongue is dancing with your own, his hands are grabbing your ass harshly. You would continue to make out with him if the elevator doors didn't open to let in a few more people. It was unnecessary to pretend like nothing had happened because he has your lipstick all over his face, and you put your hand in front of your mouth to hide your wide grin.

Rafe drives like a maniac, but you don't mind it while his hand is holding onto your thigh, squeezing harshly. “I don't think that's the right way,” you tell him, but he just smiles at you and keeps driving without saying anything. You come up to a mansion, and he parks out front and helps you out, like a true gentleman. “That your place?” you ask and he nods. “Thought you might want a little more privacy,” he says and leads you inside.

The marble floors are pretty but nothing compared to the ones in your apartment on the Upper East Side. “Cute,” you note. “Wanna show me around a little?” You are aware that he wants nothing more than to just drag you upstairs, but you like how desperate he looks, and you'd like to keep looking at it even if just for a few more minutes. “Uh, sure,” he sighs and leads you around, showing you the kitchen and living room before going upstairs. “That's the office and over there's the-” “Bedroom?” you interrupt him and he smirks. “Yes, unless you'd rather see the whole estate and the boats and-” You cut him off with a kiss, feeling him smile against your lips.

The two of you stumble backwards into the room, helping him take off his shirt before pushing him onto the bed. “I don't like selfish assholes,” you state firmly, slowly opening the buttons of your blouse. “Understood.” He props himself up on his elbows and admires you as you strip for him, leaving nothing but your lingerie on your body. “You still think you can handle this?” You straddle him in his seat and he gulps but nods. His hands rub over your body, over every single curve that you had once been insecure about. “God you're hot,” he hums and starts kissing your tits, sucking on the nipple while his hand is kneading the other. You start rutting against him, his dick twitching under you.

“Can I sit on your face, darling?” you ask a little unsure about his answer but the enthusiastic yes he gives you makes you even more aroused than you already were. You stand, and he pulls your slip down, starting to kiss your stomach and thighs. “Take your pants off, please,” you order and he does it before lying down.

You climb on top, and he harshly pulls you up to his face. Your weight rests on your thighs next to his head as you hover over him. “I’m not going to sit down completely if you don't want that. I'm not gonna be responsible for your death, darling.” “I'm gonna be all right, sugar,” he smirks and starts kissing your wet cunt. “God, you're wet for me, baby,” he moans desperately and pulls you down, thrusting his tongue into you and eating you out as if his life was dependent on it. With every lap of his tongue your orgasm grew closer, and you fell forward against the headboard, holding yourself up with your arms as you moaned and gasped. He sucks your clit into his mouth, making you scream with pleasure, and instinctively grind your pussy over his face as soon as he lets go again. He grabs your ass, practically forcing you to roll your hips into him and making his nose repeatedly nudge against your clit until you come undone on top of him. He keeps on eating you out until he has licked every last bit of your release from your sensitive cunt.

“Yeah, you're definitely not into blonde guys,” he laughs as you lie next to him, heavily panting. “Definitely.” You watch him grab a condom from the nightstand and a few moments later he's balls deep inside of you, filling you out like no one ever had.

“Jesus, fuck, you feel so good, sugar,” Rafe praises you. “Don't you fucking dare,” you moan as he hits your cervix, making you squirm under him. “Shit, you want me to be mean to you? I can do that,” he laughs and pulls out again, manhandling you onto your stomach and pulling your ass in the air. “That's the best ass in the fucking world, sugar,” he moans while pushing into you again. “Fuck, Rafe,” you scream because his thrusts hit even deeper in this position and his balls keep slapping against your clit. “You wanna act like a bitch, you gotta be able to take it,” he grunts, slapping your ass and making you whine. “More,” you beg, and he leans down to bite your waist. “Won't be able to wear anything revealing unless you want everyone to know how much of a slut you are being for me,” he growls and wraps your hair around his hand in a makeshift ponytail to pull your back flush to his chest. “What would your daddy say if he knew how we finalized his deal? If he knew that the only reason I went easy was because I wanted to rail his darling daughter. If he knew that I got to defile you.”

“Rafe,” you have tears in your eyes, but he’s nowhere close to stopping, and you really don't want him to ever stop. You love how full of him you feel. Rafe takes his hand and starts playing with your tits while the other comes down to rub your clit. “You wanna cum on my dick, sugar? Wanna make daddy proud?” You whine in response, and he stops touching you, pushing you back down and lying down on top of you. His thrusts are relentless and harsh while your make-up runs down your face. “Such a good slut for me. Might just keep you here as my personal sex slave. Would you like that, sugar?” His hot breath is on your ear, and you cry out as he goes to slap your thigh. “Answer me.” “Yes, Rafe. Am your slut. Only yours.” “Wasn't that hard, was it,” he groans and sits back up, pulling your ass back up with him.

He's still not stopping, and you don't know where he got that much stamina from because every time you try to crawl away from his dick he keeps pulling you back. "Tststs, don't you dare,” he admonishes and slaps you harsher each time. You're so close to cumming, but he won't let you, no matter how much you whine and beg. “I know you can take it. I'm not gonna let you cum until I'm done with you. A deal's a deal,” he laughs and fucks you even faster.

Your throat has gone sore from all the screaming and moaning when he finally starts playing with your clit again. “C’mon now, baby. Let go for me,” he hums and kisses your back softly and the band inside you snaps. You can't remember ever having had an orgasm like the one he had just given you and as soon as it was over you craved more. “God, you're tight, sugar,” Rafe groans, his hips stutter as he tried to keep fucking you through it but the grip your pussy has on him is too much, and he lets go too. His head falling to your back while he groans and cums.

“Solid 8.5,” you say just to tease him once he's lying next to you, the sheets pulled over his sweaty body. “Guess I'll have to try even better next time,” he smirks. “I'm not gonna be your sex slave, just to be clear on that.” “Shit, and I've already let the help prepare the dungeon,” he fakes a gasp. “Stop making me like you,” you laugh, and he looks at you, almost dreamy. “What?” you ask slowly, furrowing your brows. “Nothing, just- No, nothing at all,” he shakes his head. “Okay, weirdo,” you roll your eyes and go to stand up. searching for your slip and putting it back on. “What are you doing?” Rafe asks, watching you meticulously; how you pull your skirt up and tug your blouse into it after buttoning it up. You run your hand through your hair while pulling your heels back on. “I'm leaving. Have to catch my flight tomorrow morning and my shit is still at the hotel,” you remind him. “So, that's it? One night to remember?” “Yeah, wasn't that the plan all along?” you laugh, and he mirrors it slightly uncomfortable. “Yeah. Definitely.” “Besides, I'm responsible for this deal, and I'm not gonna let it go to shits, not even for a good fuck.” “A real businesswoman,” he mumbles. “Maybe you find your way to New York one day,” you smile at him before stepping out of the door, just to lean back and look back at him. “Oh, and you’re still not my type.”

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part 2

#rafe cameron #obx #rafe cameron x reader #rafe obx #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron smut #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe cameron fanfic #obx fanfiction #~fanfiction #smut #my writing

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roosterforme · 1 year

Text

Batting Practice Part 3 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Bradley realizes why you started running hot and then cold with him. He makes sure he remedies the situation with you.

Warnings: Fluff, angst and swearing (eventually 18+)

Length: 3700 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female single!mom Reader

Check my masterlist for more Top Gun fun! Batting Practice masterlist.

Bradley was counting down the minutes until he could leave work on Monday. The sporadic, slightly flirtatious texts between you and him Saturday night and all day Sunday were driving him wild.

He couldn't fucking wait to see you. He kept imagining how you would react to him in person now, especially after what you texted him this morning.

You should wear your hat backwards later today. That looked good on you.

Really, nothing about that was dirty, but it seemed to have that type of effect on him. Plus it meant that you were thinking about him, which left him grinning.

"Rooster, look alive, man," Jake told him, slapping him in the chest with a copy of the newest F/A-18 flight manual. Bradley grunted as the massive book made contact, and he glared at Jake. "What's got you distracted? Excited about all the MILFs you're going to see later? I wish Bob had asked me to coach with him."

Bradley just shook his head. "Moms aren't my type. Too complicated." He just wished he still believed himself when he said it.

Then he settled into the seat next to Nat, ready for a long lecture about his aircraft, his imagination drifted to you. He imagined the three of you at the Phillies game, all in matching backwards hats. There was no doubt in his mind that he'd like the way you looked with a hat that way, too.

Maverick's voice droned on in the background, and Bradley was pretty sure the information he was giving would be useful to know, so he forced his mind back to the present.

Once they were all dismissed, Bradley headed to the locker room to change out of his khaki uniform. When he glanced over at Bob, he chuckled.

"You know, we could wear our uniforms to practice one day. Drive the moms wild," Bradley said as he unbuttoned his shirt.

Bob just shook his head. "None of them know I'm in the Navy, and I don't plan on telling them."

"Oh," Bradley said as he unzipped his pants. "I did tell one of them that we're aviators."

Bob laughed lightly. "Let me guess, Everett's mom?"

Bradley decided not to reply. He just shrugged and pulled on his Tiny Eagles tee shirt and gym shorts. Then he pulled his worn out Phillies cap onto his head. Backwards.

"I'll see you over at the ballfield," he told Bob as he exited the locker room and headed for the Bronco.

There was just something about you. Yeah, you were pretty. But lots of women were pretty. Yeah, he liked the way your body looked. But the female form was something that never failed to get him going.

He wanted to flirt with you. He wanted to make you warm. He wanted to wear his ratty, old Phillies hat the way you liked it. Which was just a terrible idea, since dating a mom was not on his agenda. Even sleeping with someone who came with baggage was something he avoided at all costs, whenever he could.

Bradley mentally scolded himself for even briefly believing that a sweet kid like Everett could be considered baggage. He wasn't quite that shallow. But he liked his life simple.

Perhaps he should have kept the phone number of that woman from the bar.

He coasted into his usual parking spot and made his way toward the ballfield. He stretched and ran the bases a few times, basking in the early evening sunlight. When Bob arrived, they tossed a ball back and forth for a few minutes until the kids started to arrive.

"You miss playing," Bob said with a smile. "Why don't you play with the officers rec league?"

Bradley shrugged after he threw the ball to Bob one last time and removed his glove. "Because, no offense, but they suck."

Bob laughed loudly. "I resent that! I play center field!"

Bradley just grinned. "I know you do. Listen, I wanted to play pro ball until I was twenty-one years old. And while I love being an aviator, I am still good at baseball."

"Coach Bradley!" called Everett as he came streaking across the field.

"Hey, kiddo. You get lots of rest over the weekend? Ready to play?" he asked the kid, tugging down the bill of his cap and making him laugh.

But then Bradley saw you.

Okay, this was a problem. The whole text thread between the two of you was playing in his mind now as he watched you walk across the grass, hopping on one foot as you changed out of your high heels as you went. You were wearing a plain gray suit and trying to talk on the phone while you juggled your shoes and Everett's gear bag.

You looked complicated as hell at the moment. This was a problem, because Bradley's mind was telling him he suddenly liked complicated.

"Start warming up with Coach Bob," Bradley told Everett as he patted him on the head. That same warm sunlight that had felt so perfect on Bradley's skin was illuminating your face and hair, and he was already looking at you when he saw your eyes catch on him.

"I need to go, Frank. We can figure it out later," you said, pulling your phone away from your ear and ending the call.

"Hi." Bradley's voice was laced with everything he really wanted to say to you in person but didn't think he should.

"Coach," you replied softly, your long lashes fluttering against your cheeks as you closed your eyes for a beat.

"You give any more thought to the merits of sitting behind home plate versus sitting in the outfield?" Bradley asked softly, just for you to hear.

The way your lips parted wordlessly as you played with your hair had him grinning. You crinkled up your nose in that way he already loved as you looked down at the field. "Are you really serious about going to the game with Ev and I?"

He wasn't actually completely sure before this moment, but now he was. "Yeah. Of course I'm serious. Should I ask Everett where he wants to sit? Since you don't seem to care? And since I'll have an equally good view of you from any seat?"

This time when you raised your eyes to meet his, he could feel them examine every inch of his chest and arms and the scars along his neck. Your gaze didn't move from his mouth as you whispered, "You're making me flustered." Then your eyes met his, and Bradley could feel your hesitation that wasn't evident through texting.

"I'd love to be responsible for that. You look cute when you're flustered."

Your eyes went wide as you muttered, "And you look cute with your hat like that."

The sound of Bob's whistle had both of you jumping so that you almost collided. Bradley could hear you mutter, "Oh shit," as you pressed your hand to your forehead and turned away from him to find a seat on the bleachers. And try as he may, he couldn't seem to catch your eye at all during practice.

-----------------------

You were embarrassed. Coach Bradley and all of his flirty text messages were making you silly.

He really seemed to want to take you and Ev to a baseball game. He had told you twice that the best seat in the house would be one where he was looking at you.

Nothing was ever going to be that easy for you though. As soon as Everett spent a Sunday afternoon watching baseball and eating ice cream with his coach, he was going to want that to happen all the time.

You were afraid you were going to want it all the time too. You were so attracted to Bradley. The way he flirted with you was subtle and yet intentional, and it left you craving more from him already.

How much was he willing to give? How available was he? How available were you? Frank wanted to get together with you again this week, but you didn't know if you'd be able to get a sitter for Everett. You didn't know if you wanted to see Frank outside of work anymore either.

But you could imagine sitting at Petco Park eating nachos and drinking a beer with Bradley while Ev ate ice cream out of a tiny plastic helmet.

"Fuck," you groaned, forcing your attention to remain on Everett even though you could practically feel Bradley's eyes on you.

Everett was better at tee ball than you had expected him to be. He managed to hit the ball over Bob's head pretty consistently, and you cheered for him when he turned and looked toward you. This is what he needed; an outlet for all of this energy and some male role models.

When practice ended and Bob announced that each child could come up and get their jersey for Saturday's game against the Tiny Hawks, Everett was practically vibrating with excitement.

"Mommy, I get a jersey just like the ones the coaches wear!"

You chuckled and kissed his cheek. "You sure do. Listen for your name."

When Bradley called his name, Everett went sprinting up to get his jersey, and you watched Bradley help him put it on over his shirt. Then he sprinted back to you and hugged you around your middle.

"Let's get going, sweetie. You must be hungry," you said, tossing his equipment into the bag, trying to make a hasty exit. You didn't want to continue your conversation with Bradley, because you were so mixed up at the moment.

And that's when you heard him talking to Henry's mom.

"Coach Bradley. I was hoping we could exchange phone numbers, just in case you ever needed any extra help with anything."

"Uh, sure, Sandra. Our Team Mom probably has everything under control, but what's your number?"

You shoved Everett's cleats into the bag and rushed him through getting his sneakers on. And all the while you heard Sandra offering her help with anything he might need. The worst part was the way she was rubbing Bradley's arm when you decided to glance in their direction.

"Let's go," you told Everett, ready to make a run for your car. How embarrassing! You'd flirted with your kid's tee ball coach over text all weekend, and now he was lining up Sandra, who was of course fucking gorgeous.

Gross. You felt jealous. You never felt jealous. Danny had been cheating on you for the last year or so of your marriage, and you'd never felt this way! You'd been mostly content knowing that you had Everett to make it all worth it.

So this felt wrong. The cold envious feeling seeping under your skin. Just wrong.

The two of you almost made it to your car, and of course, like an idiot, you had parked next to the Bronco again.

"Hey!" Bradley called, closing the distance as he jogged up. "I didn't get to say goodbye." He high fived Everett next to your car, and then you ushered Ev into the backseat.

"So, I'll see you on Thursday?" Bradley asked, ducking his head a little bit, trying to get you to meet his eyes.

"Yes," you told him, grasping your door handle. But he only let it swing open a few inches before he caught it in his massive hand.

"What's wrong?" he asked you softly.

You sighed and met his eyes. "I thought we originally exchanged numbers just to talk about team business."

Bradley cocked his head to the side. "Yeah... we can make it just team business, if you want. But I obviously wanted you to be the Team Mom. And I was kind of enjoying the more...personal chit chat."

You scoffed. "I get it. I do. But if you want to exchange numbers and have personal chit chat with all of the moms who are clearly interested in you, then maybe you and I should keep it businesslike."

When you wrenched the door open another foot, he didn't stop you this time. But he still gently closed it for you.

------------------------

The next morning, you felt a lot better. Bradley hadn't texted you, and you weren't about to text him. It was honestly better this way. He could flirt with Sandra as much as he wanted to, and now you didn't have to worry about anything except whatever was strictly required of the Team Mom.

When Frank knocked on your door at lunchtime, you had just finished up a project. So you let him come in, and soon he was kissing you. It felt pretty good, so you let him unbutton your shirt as well.

"Baby, how about a quickie?" he whispered next to your ear before kissing your neck.

That didn't sound too bad. Now that you had rid your system of yearning for Coach Bradley.

"Okay," you whispered when he started kissing the tops of your breasts and caressing your sides. You unzipped your suit pants and slid them down your hips along with your underwear while Frank pulled a condom out of his wallet and locked your door.

Bent over your desk with your cheek pressed to the smooth wood surface, you let your eyes drift closed. And that was a big mistake. Because it was too easy to imagine a backward cap, a mustache and a deep, raspy voice in your ear.

You felt him slide inside you, stretching your pussy in the process. It felt so much better than it usually did, you had to bite your lip to suppress a moan. Then he was moving, and you could practically smell sweat, spicy deodorant, and the freshly watered grass of the infield. Is this how it would feel to be bent over the wooden bleachers and fucked by Bradley? His mustache grazing the back of your neck as he whispered those flirtatious text messages to you?

Hands gripped your hips, squeezing you tight as your pussy was filled over and over. He would love taking you from the back like this, quick and dirty. Unrelenting.

You were gasping now, your lungs tight with each breath as you imagined his voice. You look cute when you're flustered.

"Oh," you groaned, and the pressure increased bit by bit. "Oh!"

He'd fuck you so good. He'd take care of everything you wanted. He'd press his mustache to your pussy, rubbing you until you cried. He'd finger you while he drove you around in his Bronco. You could picture it all so clearly. Feel it seamlessly.

Legs shaking, you fucked yourself back against him, wanting as much pressure as you could get. Then you felt it, and you knew it was going to be good. Your orgasm washed over you quickly, and you lifted your head off your desk, suddenly alert.

You were with Frank. You were coming so fucking hard on Frank's dick while you thought about another man.

"Oh! Fuck! Ohhhh," you moaned, completely shocked, totally stunned. It felt like you had been with Bradley. And now you were conscious of all the noises Frank was making as he blew his load into the condom.

You stood with your back to him and quickly started to get your clothes in order with shaking hands.

"Sounded like you really enjoyed that, baby," Frank said, and you could hear the smug smile in his voice.

Hell yes, you had enjoyed it, but not because of him.

"I have a lot of work to do," you muttered, rubbing your hands along your burning hot neck.

"Let's do this again later this week," Frank told you, kissing your cheek before he left.

You dropped into your seat and spent the entire afternoon thinking about what you had done.

-------------------------

It took Bradley until Tuesday to realize what he had done wrong. You must have heard or seen Sandra with him. Fuck. He was just trying to be as accommodating as he could without telling Henry's mom to back off; he'd have to see her multiple times per week for eight more weeks!

But you'd gone from a simmering warmth with him to frosty cold on a dime. And that must have been why.

He didn't know how to make it up to you, and he didn't want to text you since you'd told him no more personal talk.

So he waited until Thursday at practice. When you pulled into the parking lot, you avoided the spot next to his Bronco. And you and Everett stayed in your car until practice was about to start, hustling across the grass at the last possible minute.

You were not going to make this easy for him.

Everett came running over to join the rest of the team just as Bob was dividing the kids into two groups. But Bradley could only focus on you. Your hair was swept up today, exposing your graceful neck, and you were wearing a black pencil skirt with a tight blouse tucked into it. You seem to have forgotten your beat up sneakers today, because you were walking around the field on tiptoes so your heels wouldn't get ruined.

You looked smoking hot, and you were not sparing a single glance in his direction.

"Bradley!" Bob called. "Focus."

"Right, sorry," Bradley replied, reluctantly taking his spot behind home plate where he couldn't spend the next hour looking at you.

He watched the kids go through the batting order, and then had them start practicing in the field. They were actually pretty good, and Bob was always such a calm presence that they responded really well to him. Bradley thought they would do well against the Tiny Hawks in two days.

Once the kids were dismissed, Bradley followed Everett to the bleachers, and on the way he asked, "Is it cool if I walk you and your mom to the car again, kiddo?"

"Yeah! My mom would like that too!"

Bradley wasn't so sure, but now at least he had his in with you.

"Hi," you said as Bradley approached, and he watched you kneel down in that tight skirt, his mind going to the filthiest places imaginable. If you turned and looked at him over his shoulder, he would probably end up embarrassing himself.

"Hi," he rasped, pressing his lips together as you helped your son change his shoes. "Everett said it would be cool if I walked with you two up to the parking lot."

"Whatever," you said without looking at him. So Bradley walked up with Everett between you and him as usual.

"What do you do in the Navy?" the kid asked him.

"I fly airplanes," Bradley told him. "And I wear all these cool pins so people know I'm a Lieutenant."

"What's a loo-tent?" Everett asked, and Bradley saw you trying to hide your grin.

"Nothing, really. It's just a fancy word for someone who still has to salute to pretty much everybody else."

Now you were biting your lip as Everett tried to pronounce Bradley's rank over and over again until the three of you reached your car. Bradley opened the back door and placed the gear back on the floor as Everett scampered in, but then he put a firm hand against the driver's door so you couldn't open it.

"Hear me out?" Bradley asked, and your eyes finally met his. Your eye makeup made them look impossibly big, and he could feel the saliva pooling at the back of his tongue.

"About what?" you asked softly, crossing your arms over your chest.

"I think I gave you the wrong impression about who I have and have not been talking to in my free time. Sandra did give me her number, but I will only text her back if she needs information directly related to the Tiny Eagles."

Your lips parted, but you didn't say anything so he continued.

"And yeah, as soon as you volunteered to be Team Mom, I was jumping at the chance to get your number. But can you blame me?"

"You were?" you asked, a look of disbelief on your face. But when he ducked down to meet your eyes and nodded, you ducked to the side and crinkled your nose.

"Yeah, Kitten. I was. So you can put your claws away now."

You sucked in a breath, and your arms fell loosely to your sides as you looked at him. All embarrassment was gone as your expression softened and your pupils went wide. "Did you just call me Kitten?"

"Mmhmm. You've got some claws on you, yeah? And you scrunch your nose up like a cat. Cutest thing I've ever seen."

Bradley's body was humming, and the look of pure desire on your face as you inched closer to him had him aching.

"Are you going to keep calling me Kitten?" you whispered, your eyes lazily taking in his lips and mustache.

"You liked that." He was telling you, not asking.

You were the one nodding this time, and Bradley bit back a groan as your fingers teased the back of his hand. "And which would you prefer I call you? Coach Bradley or Lieutenant Bradshaw?"

Bradley did audibly groan this time. "You're trouble, Kitten."

"You didn't answer my question." You were smirking now, desire mixing with boldness in your eyes.

"You can call me anything you want."

You nodded up at him, such a smug look on your face as you reached behind you and opened your car door. Bradley watched you gracefully ease yourself onto your seat.

"I'll see you on Saturday," he whispered, and then he cleared his throat. "Can't wait for our first game, kiddo," he added a bit louder, smiling at Everett in the backseat.

"Bye, coach!" he called to Bradley.

"Yeah, bye, coach," you added, and Bradley closed your door softly.

As you pulled away, he started to make the long walk back to the bleachers to grab his own gear with a smile on his face.

-----------------------

Coach and Kitten! Ahhh! Big thanks to @beyondthesefourwalls and @mak-32!

PART 4

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#bradley rooster bradshaw x reader #rooster x female reader #rooster x you #rooster fanfic #rooster x reader #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw fanfiction #bradley bradshaw fic #bradley bradshaw imagine #bradley bradshaw x female reader #rooster bradshaw x female reader #top gun fanfiction #top gun maverick fanfiction #bradley rooster x reader

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sluttywonwoo · 1 year

Note

Imagine Felix just guiding and talking you through your first time with him

Stuck in my head all week man, i'm begging you to write about it

okay this was supposed to be more dommy i swear but it turned out really soft ;-; sorry lol

word count: 1.3k

warnings: smut (18+), protected sex, crying

“that’s it, baby, just like that,” felix mumbles into your neck, pushing his hips forward bit by bit until his body is flush with yours. he stills once he’s bottomed out inside of you and presses a kiss to your temple.

he hopes you can’t feel how he’s trembling as he holds himself above you, hopes that if you can, you won’t attribute it to him being weak—because it’s not that.

he already embarrassed himself when he tried rolling the condom on and the elastic snapped him in the thigh, leaving a noticeable red mark behind. the last thing he needs is for you to think that he can’t even keep himself in position long enough to fuck you.

it’s just… he didn’t expect you to feel this good with the condom on and he’s losing all semblance of control. it’s your first time, so he’s trying to take it slow, but you’re just so goddamn warm and tight and perfect that he can’t seem to think straight.

“you okay?” he manages to ask, needing to make sure you’re not in any pain.

“great,” you hum and smile fondly up at him.

“it doesn’t hurt?”

“no, you made me cum earlier, remember?”

as if he could forget. the sounds you made as you fell apart underneath him were now forever imprinted in his brain. it would have been enough to make him cum untouched if he wasn’t focusing on not doing exactly that.

“yeah, but a couple of fingers isn’t as big as… you know.” he cuts himself off. he doesn’t want to imply that he’s big, doesn’t want you to think that he’s complimenting himself when all he’s trying to say is that there’s a distinct difference between the two.

“you’re sweet,” you say, squeezing his bicep with one of your hands. “and you can move now, by the way.”

“sure?”

“mhm.”

felix gathers up his strength and draws his hips back just slightly, wanting to start with shallow thrusts before jumping right in to deep strokes. you whine, eyebrows pinching together, but urge him to keep going.

“how’s that feel?”

“s-sooo good,” you sigh, hiking your knees up to your chest so that he can drive his cock even deeper.

felix can’t help but chuckle, stroking your cheek fondly.

“look so pretty, angel,” he compliments. “‘m gonna get such a big ego if you keep moaning like that, though.”

“you… deserve… it.”

felix seriously doubts that, but you don’t know any different, any better, so he doesn’t let himself get too carried away.

“cross your ankles behind my back if you’re able to,” he instructs, “that way you won’t strain yourself holding your legs up on your own.”

“like this?”

felix groans as you do what he suggested, feeling your walls squeeze even tighter around him. your thighs are hugging him like this too, soft yet strong. he feels completely surrounded by you, by your body, your scent. it’s all too much and not enough at the same time. he wants to fuck you properly— slam into you over and over until you can’t even remember what day it is. he wants to show you what he’s actually capable of, prove to you that he can show you a good time. ruin you for everyone else but him… but he’s almost already cum like. three times now. so that’s off the table, at least for today.

instead, felix focuses on what he’s doing now, which is thrusting into you at a moderate pace, and talking you through it.

“yep, perfect,” he chokes out.

he fucks you in that position for a while, basking in the pleasant sounds of you panting beneath him. you seem to like it, if your whimpers of his name are anything to go by.

he can tell when you start to feel sore, though. your frown of pleasure begins to turn into one of discomfort but you’re trying not to let it show. but felix has been dating you long enough to read you like an open book so he stops what he’s doing and checks in again.

“does it hurt, baby?”

you start to shake your head. “na- a little.”

“let’s stop here for today then.”

he goes to pull out but you stop him, keeping your ankles locked behind his frame.

“i want you to cum though!” you protest.

“tonight’s not about me, silly, remember?”

“but i got to cum it’s not fair!”

“again, it doesn’t really work like that. sex isn’t a transaction. you don’t have to ‘pay me back’ for making you finish.”

you pout silently and begin to blink rapidly. it takes felix a second to realize you’re trying not to cry.

oh, he’s really done it now.

frantically, your boyfriend cups your face with his free hand and pleads for you to look at him.

“baby? what is it? what’s wrong— what did i do?”

you sniffle. “nothing, it’s… it’s stupid.”

“no, it’s not, i promise. nothing you could be thinking right now is stupid. it’s okay to feel overwhelmed or upset or whatever it is you’re feeling… it’s your first time after all, and i’m sorry i couldn’t make it perfect—”

“that’s exactly it, lix!” you lament, wiping your tears with your free hand. “it’s my first time and, and i couldn’t even make you cum. everyone says it’s supposed to be a lot easier for boys to cum but we’ve been going at it for so long now and you’re not even close.”

felix genuinely has to keep his jaw from dropping in shock because that is not the reaction you need right now. he wants to tell you how wrong you are but you’re still talking and he doesn’t want to interrupt and risk making you even more upset so he keeps his mouth shut.

you pause, hiccuping and desperately trying to catch your breath. “i guess, i don’t know i feel like my vagina must be broken or something. is it not good? is there something i could be doing better? you can be honest.”

“baby, no! it’s not you at all! your v- you’re perfect! to be honest, i’ve been fighting an orgasm this entire time. i didn’t want to cum too soon and ruin it for you, that’s the only reason i haven’t. i promise.”

“pinky promise?” you hold your pinky out for felix to loop his own around, which he does, sealing the promise with a kiss to your knuckle.

“pinky promise.”

“so do you want to?” you ask.

“do i want to what?”

“cum, do you want to cum?”

“no, babe, you’re sore already i don’t want to hurt you.”

“but i want you to!”

felix sighs. “baby…”

“what if you cum in my mouth?”

“what?”

you prop yourself up on your elbows and raise an eyebrow.

“let me suck you off?”

“are you sure?”

“yeah, i’ve been practicing!”

you’ve been what now? this is news to felix, and the very idea of you on your knees, training yourself to take him down your throat is enough to make him feel like he’s cumming.

he is, he realizes, when he feels his cock twitching inside of you, feels his cum fill the condom.

“fu-uck, i’m s-sorry, baby…” he gasps out, doubling over back on top of you, feeling like he’s just been punched in the stomach. “i didn’t… should’ve warned you.”

when felix opens his eyes again, you’re beaming.

“this is the best possible outcome,” you tell him as he rolls off of you.

“huh?” he asks, blinking hazily at you.

“you came and i didn’t even do anything!”

“oh, yeah… see, i told you! you drive me crazy.”

you pat him on the shoulder like you’d just played a friendly game of kickball and grin.

“feeling’s mutual.”

#focus #answered #anon #stray kids smut #skz smut #felix smut #lee felix smut #yongbok smut #lee yongbok smut

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fishsticksloser · 10 months

Note

Can I request

Hobie x fem reader

The reader tries to keep Hobie a secret from her toxic family but Hobie ended up meeting them.

Thank you ❤️

Family Business

Hobie x fem!reader

Warnings: swearing, toxic family, angst, Hobit is a flirty bastard..., a bit of insecurity, Hobie tries to help you rebel cause that's what he does..., Mr. Hobart Brown is now a life coach...

A/N: I'm with you on this one, I wouldn't want him to meet some of my family. This became a lot longer than anticipated...

Sometimes it was a little exhausting keeping Hobie from your family. You tried not to be around your family at all, but sometimes it was unavoidable.

"Hey, Hobie?" You walk into the kitchen where Hobie was making lunch. You wring your hands anxiously. "My family is coming over so... Could you not be in the apartment tomorrow? I'm sorry its such late notice..."

"Oh?" He questions, turning to face you. "What's the occasion?" A wide grin pulling at his lip, eyes sparkling. He's never met your family, he finds himself intrigued by them though. Are they really that bad? "Sure. I'll find something to do." Hobie shrugs, it must be important if you're asking him to leave.

"They just decided they wanted to pop in. I just found out and they'll be here tomorrow afternoon." You sigh, a bit relieved that he was so understanding. "I'm really sorry."

"It's no big deal." Hobie reassures you with a smile. "Do they give you trouble or something?" He raises an eyebrow, concerned.

"Ah, well, yes..." You shrug lightly. "Mostly if they saw you, it'd be a whole thing." You make 'blow up' gestures.

"Oh, like a 'No Boys, Ever!' kina thing?" He asks, a bit of sarcasm in his tone. He chuckles a little, glancing down at you.

"No. No." You shake your head and frown slightly. "More of a 'why are you with this gorgeous man, you must be paying him' kinda thing and then it'll blow up, and..."

"Are you saying I'm too good looking for you?" Hobie queries, nudging your shoulder.

"You were a runway model, so yeah."

"Hey, I had to pay my rent somehow. They'll be up in your business about it, huh? I can handle that. No need for me to leave unless it'll make things harder for you."

"Believe me, once they see you and start asking questions, you'll wish you hadn't stayed."

"You can't be serious... They're not that shallow and superficial, are they?"

"Dead serious."

"Do you usually let them pressure you into doing things their way? Because if so, I think this is the perfect time for you to draw a hard line and not bend to their will. It could be good for you."

"I don't follow their rules anymore since I don't live with them, but if they knew that..."

"Would they disown you?"

"No. They'd keep me from seeing the family I actually do want to be around. If they knew about you, well... Are you prepared for them to accuse you of being in it for money? For only being here because I'm paying you?"

The words hit Hobie like a slap to the face, his eyes go wide as he absorbs what you've said. That's their first reaction? Why? What kind of family would ever consider saying something like that?

"So what... They think you're alone...? Single and celibate?"

"Uh... Yeah, yep." You confirm.

He's at a loss for words. This is... absurd. There are no words to describe how Hobie feels right now. How he feels about your parents, the situation you're in.

"You're family is f-" He starts, but quickly corrects himself. "Insane."

"Say it with your chest." Encouraging him to say whatever he wants.

He doesn't want to upset you, but this... this doesn't sit right with him. "Your parents are fucking crazy." He utters, glaring at the ceiling. His anger only seems to grow. "How could someone like you come from that? Who do they think they are controlling you? Dictating who you date, who you sleep with, if you can live your like freely? Have you ever thought about cutting them out of your life?"

"Pure luck?" You jest, trying to cheer him up with a joke to his first question. "I've thought about cutting them off, but that'll cut ties with family I do want to see."

Hobie snorts at your little joke, but he loses the small smile as you continued. "Still. You shouldn't have to do that. I mean, do you let them dictate the rest of your life? The way you look, they way you act, who you love?"

"Considering you're here... Absolutely not, but under no circumstances am I putting you in their line of fire." You answer quickly, shaking your head slightly.

"I can handle it." He replies with a shrug. He says that, but you know the thought of being in front of your family makes him uncomfortable. He was ready to do it for you though. That alone speaks volumes about how far he'd go to help you. "Your family can't keep getting away with controlling your life like this... What are you going to do? Just let them push you around for the rest of your life? Let them manipulate you into doing whatever they want?"

"What will pushing back accomplish? It'll cut me off from family."

"How is doing nothing better? You're just letting them walk all over you and control you like a puppet! Don't you want your life back?"

"It's not that simple."

"Life is never easy. Some people are luck, but others - like us- are born into difficult circumstances. But that doesn't mean we have to let the hardships stop us from living. Maybe it's not simple. Maybe it means making difficult decisions, taking a stand, or fighting for what we want. But we can do that - we have to."

🎸⋆⁺₊⋆♱🕷♱⋆⁺₊⋆🎸

It'd been a month or so since that night, but you'd blocked your parents on everything. Now you felt more comfortable sharing your personal life, and Hobie. You had fought like hell to get to this point, but you did it. It was one hell of a victory to win and you celebrated.

At first you took your freedom for granted, maybe you still do. No matter what, you knew there was no going back. You were free and planned to stay that way.

You wandered together beneath the hot London sun, through the concessions during a Spider-Man festival, you found it a bit humorous since the man behind the mask was holding your hand. Hobie's mood is contagious, you find yourself smiling as well. How could you not? Everything is so energetic, everyone is so excited and in good spirits, ready to have a good time.

"Do you ever feel weird about all this?" You ask as you weave through the throngs of people. "People throwing festivals and stuff in your honor but having no clue it's you?"

"Honestly?" He answers with a soft laugh. "Sometimes, yeah. I never really get used to it. People are obsessed with Spider-Man, so when they start acting like complete geeks over him, it makes me feel like I'm in the Twilight Zone or something. I'd never complain about it though." He wraps his arms around your shoulders, pulling your back against his chest as you stand in line. "Especially if it means seeing you smile like this..."

"Cheesy bastard..." You huff playfully, wrapping your hands around his forearms.

"Damn right I am." He cackles, pulling you closer. "Admit it! You love my lame puns and bad one-liners. You can't get enough of them!" He dips his head down and kisses you, lingering for a moment. He's not done flattering you though. "See? You're addicted to me..."

You laugh, opening your mouth to start denying everything. "Y/N?" You hear a familiar voice call and you freeze. Hobie pulls his head back, immediately picking up on your discomfort. He pulls you impossibly closer, searching for the source of your anxiety. He finally spots it. A stranger, well to him at least.

"Do you know her?" He whispers, still holding you close.

"That's my mom..." You mumble. You turn away from her, hoping she didn't see you.

"What do you think she wants?" He asks in a rushed whisper. "How do we deal with this?"

"I wish you could turn invisible..." You mutter, trying to think of something.

Before Hobie even has a chance to think of a response, your mom is right in front of you. "Y/N!" She cries, pulling you out of Hobie's grasp and into a big hug. "You're so skinny! You're not eating enough, that explains why we haven't heard from you in weeks!" Her eyes flicker over to Hobie as she lets go. "Who the hell are you?"

"This is Hobie... My... um..." You try, but Hobie doesn't like labels. There's no word to really describe your relationship.

Hobie immediately picks up on your issue, his eyes narrowing in contemplation. "We're together. An item..." He answers, a bit hesitant but firm.

"An item? You can't even tell me what your relationship actually is?" Your mom asks, smiling almost smugly. "So... She's paying you?"

"Paying me?" Hobie grits, looking at you before shooting your mother a glare. He's livid, grabbing your waist and pulling you back against him. He can't believe she'd say something so underhanded and insidious.

"Oh please." Your mother rolls her eyes. "Like you'd ever go for someone like my daughter without some sort of payment."

Hobie's anger nearly boils over; he's ready to get in your mother's face and start screaming. Instead, he takes a deep breath and speaks calmly, his voice dripping with sarcasm and spite. "What do you want from us, lady? An apology? An explanation? Because I'm not apologizing for loving your daughter and I don't owe you a damn thing."

"Loving my daughter?" Your mom laughs snidely. "Look at her. You could have anyone and you 'picked' her?"

Hobie's anger gives way to confusion as your mother's cruel words register. How could someone be so heartless? Who says something like that about their own child? As though you were some sort of object - an object that isn't worth any sort of love. "You have no idea what you're talking about so why don't you keep your mouth shut?"

"Excuse me?" Your mom glares daggers at Hobie.

"Did I stutter? Is your hearing okay?" Hobie snaps, his tone venomous. His jaw clenched with anger, he doesn't care what your mother thinks of him. He wants nothing more than to tear her apart, but he holds himself back. Refusing to stoop to her level.

Your mother huffs angrily and stomps away, you finally relax against Hobie's chest. "You didn't have to do that..."

"Yes, I did." He replies, frowning. He can still feel the residual anger and hatred radiating from him. "I'd do it a hundred times over if it meant protecting you. No one - and I mean no one - is going to talk to you that way while I'm alive. No one."

You turn in his arms, wrapping your own around his waist in a tight hug, hoping to relieve some of his anger. Hobie immediately accepts, pulling you closer. For a moment all he can do is hold you, breathing in the sweet smell of your hair. His grip tightens around you, his anger fading away. He rests his head against your head, eyes closing as he keep ahold of you.

"Did you mean what you said?" You mumble into his chest, your voice slightly muffled.

He goes still, pondering your question. "Of course I did. Why wouldn't I?" His voice is calm and soft. "It's the truth. I won't let anyone treat you that way." Hobie kisses the top of your head, his voice filled with determination.

"Not that." You laugh, shaking your head. "You said you 'wouldn't apologize for loving me...' Did you mean it?"

"Oh. That." He pauses for a moment. "Um... Yeah. I meant it."

"That's good." You nod thoughtfully. Hobie seems a bit anxious, waiting for you to reciprocate. "I love you too."

After a few seconds, a smile breaks out on his face. He leans down and presses his lips to yours - a gentle show of affection.

#{fish answers•°}#{jojo-munson•°}#sony spiderverse #beyond the spiderverse #spider man: across the spider verse #spiderverse #spiderpunk #hobie brown x reader #hobie spiderverse #hobie brown #hobie x reader #hobie x you #hobie my beloved #atsv hobie #spiderman x you #spiderman x reader #spiderman

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caramelberzatto · 7 months

Note

Ooooohhhh could you maybe do Carmy jerking off and reader walking in? He’s embarrassed but she’s like yessss this is 🔥 🔥 🔥 and wants to watch? Thank you!

PLEASE- okay so i'm literally at work right now, on my day off, because i had shit-all else to do and my only friends are here. SO anyway, moving on, long story short, i'm getting some lunch and churning out some writing. i changed it a teensy bit because i wanted to write some needy carmy so bad heheheheh. let's fucking go (nsfw below, minors dni)

okay so we all know carmy is busy, and when he isn't busy, he's probably stressing about something. (which is very relatable, love that for us.) ANYHOW, he finally has a moment to himself. it's late, he's freshly showered, and all he wants is to climb into bed with you and touch you the way he knows you like. but, as fate would have it, you're not home, and he's sighing to himself after the memory of you mentioning some birthday dinner for your friends boyfriend returns to him.

'fucks sake,' he mutters to himself as he drops onto the couch, letting his head fall back, teeth gritted in frustration. running a hand through his still-damp hair, he thinks about calling it a night and just going to sleep. but he wants to wait up for you. and he just... really fucking needs you.

he heads down the hall to his bedroom, leaving his shirt on the floor by the foot of the bed. it's gotten warmer, or it could just be because the thoughts currently occupying his mind are... heated. regardless, he tosses back the covers and leans back against the headboard, trying to focus on literally anything but how badly he's craving you.

but he's failing. miserably. especially because your underwear are still on the floor from where he'd tossed them that morning when he'd woken you up with his tongue. and the memory your fingers tangled in his hair is so visceral, he swears he can almost feel it.

and before he can even register what he's doing, his hand has slipped beneath the waistband of his sweatpants and wrapped around his cock, already hard and aching. the relief is immediate, and he lets out a long sigh, his other hand gripping the duvet as he starts to pump himself.

it doesn't feel as good as you, though. not even when he spits on his palm, squeezing lightly around the base and running his thumb over the head the way you always do. and it's making him more and more frustrated with every underwhelming stroke.

he's all worked up, breathless and pissed off, and doesn't hear the door open, nor the thud of your shoes as you kick them off. you dump your bag on the couch, heading down the hall, and you can hear his quick, shallow breaths seeping out of the bedroom door left ajar.

the door creaks on its hinges as you push it open, stepping into the dimly lit room. and carmen is a fucking mess. his curls are plastered over his forehead, his cheeks, neck, and chest are blooming red and flushed, and his gaze meets yours instantly. his sweatpants sit halfway down his thighs, and his cock is in his hand, and he just looks so... pathetic. and you love it.

'fuck, baby, hi,' he says, and you're already climbing on top of him, into his lap, taking his cock in your hand. and the sounds he makes go straight your chest. having him like this, so needy and whimpering and just out of his mind... it's hot.

normally, carmy would be taking in the sight of you, marvelling at the pretty little dress you're wearing, asking you how your night was, but he's so close to begging it's almost overwhelming.

and when you tuck your underwear to the side, not bothering to get undressed, and sink down on him, carmy lets out a choked sound that seems to be a mix of your name and a long, low 'fuck.'

it doesn't take long before he's spilling inside you, and he might've been embarrassed about it if he wasn't so relieved.

#the bear #the bear fx #carmy berzatto #carmen berzatto #jeremy allen white #carmen berzatto x reader #carmy berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto x you #carmy berzatto x you #carmen berzatto smut #carmy berzatto smut

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chilumi-shipper · 1 year

Text

Forget and Regret (2)

Kamisato Ayato x Fem!Reader

Summary: Part 2 of "Forget and Regret", Ayato is being plagued by dreams, you think he doesn't need you anymore, but for some reason, he really can't just leave you alone. Many moments of pain came before comfort.

Tags: Angst w/ happy ending, Hurt/Comfort, Crying, A little swearing, Maybe a little naughty in the end (nothing explicit)

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

Ayato walked into the room, his eyes landing on a girl lying on his bed, her shoulders shaking as little sobs filled the quiet room.

Her figure was covered by a blanket, and though he could not see her up front, he knew that she was clutching the sheets to her chest.

"Love?" He called out for the girl, the endearment falling naturally from his lips.

The girl did not look at him, but he knows that he's gained her attention.

She tried to control her breath, trying not to make her shallow and sobbing breaths obvious.

"I-I'm sorry..." The girl said in such a small and quiet voice, the stuttering making it obvious that she had been crying. "I k-know it's stupid, b-but I just wanted to give you a g-gift." Ayato had been hearing a lot of this 'gift' thing. He has no idea what is happening, yet the sight of the girl crying in front of him just makes him want to coddle her and make her feel better.

"I should say my apologies as well, my love..." His mouth moved on its own, letting him say words for which he did not know the context. "I didn't mean to lose my temper. I may have been angry, but I would never ever dream of hurting you."

"I-I regret not saying this sooner, my dear Y/-"

The Yashiro Commissioner stirred awake, groaning as his eyes slowly opened.

He grabbed a pillow by his side and covered his face with it.

Yet another dream, of the same girl, no less.

And every single time, every waking moment after a dream like that, Ayato felt like his heart was being vigorously tugged on, a sense of regret oozing from the back of his mind. And try as he might, no explanation ever arose to answer his questions.

So, just like every time that this happened, he shrugged off the feelings conveyed by the dreams before finally getting out of bed.

...

"Have you heard? The Commissioner and his wife had a fight." You hear the whispered rumours of some of the workers in the estate, making you sigh.

"Yeah, but people have been saying that she left him. Here she is now, though, so maybe it's all just exaggerated."

"No! I was here a few weeks ago, and I heard the Lord himself screaming angrily. Could it be that he was mad at Lady Kamisato?"

"Could be, not to mention that Lady Ayaka has been acting weird lately. She's taking over all of the Lord's duties; I wonder what's happening inside their home."

"Ladies, please. Let's all just stop with all the gossip and get to work?" Thoma approached the workers gathered around to talk about the Kamisato siblings and you, keeping his polite smile as he asked them to get back to work.

After the group got back to their duties, the blonde walked up to you.

"My lady." He addressed you like always, making you look down a bit. "The Shuumatsuban thanks you for your generous donations and help on their mission against the Fatui."

Lately, you've been going back to the estate, both to gather your things without attracting attention and to pay back for what you did a few weeks back.

You also did some digging around the Fatui in Inazuma; it took quite a while, and though it almost got you in danger with the organization, you got a few useful pieces of information for the Shuumatsuban. You feel that this is only appropriate because you accidentally sabotaged them before.

"Umm, please tell them that I'm glad I could do something good for them." You smiled at him, feeling a little bit flustered. Your interactions with Thoma have been very awkward lately; he's still against what you're doing with Ayato. "Thanks for everything, Thoma."

He merely nods before watching you walk out of the estate, presumably going back home.

"I didn't know that she worked here." The retainer heard his lord's voice from behind him, making him turn around to face him. "I wish I had the chance to talk to her again." Thoma noticed how Ayato's blueish-purple eyes followed the trail you walked on, perhaps thinking about you as he did so.

This is why he thinks what you're doing is silly. One look at his lord and he sees the interest in you oozing from him, even at his current state.

"Well, technically, she doesn't work here. But she plays a very important role in the estate." Thoma clarified, making the periwinkle-haired man think.

"Oh, what do you mean by that, Thoma?" The Commissioner asked curiously.

"Well, though I do want to explain, I know it would be far better if she did so herself, my lord." He left it at that, not letting Ayato press further.

...

"Hi."

As you were fixing everything up at the front of the Kamisato Estate, you heard a familiar voice coming from behind you.

You turned around, your eyes meeting another pair that looked pleased to see you. "Y/N, I was hoping to see you again." Ayato said with a smile.

Your breath hitched, you instinctively walked a little away from him.

"Oh, no need to be nervous or anything. I mean, I know I'm kind of an important figure or something, but..." He cleared his throat, chuckling a little. "I hope that I don't scare you away."

You sighed, bowing your head. "Lord Kamisato, I'm just finishing up my work."

"No need for formalities, you can just call me Ayato. After all, I owe you my life." He stated, walking a bit closer to you. "Thank you again, I can't stress that enough."

You couldn't look up at his face, not up his smiling and gentle face, at least not while keeping yourself from bursting to tears, admitting that you're his wife and that you did something that made him resent you.

He looked at your timid form, your hands clasped together tightly. Perhaps he should do something to ease the tension you were feeling.

"Once again, you're welcome, my lord. I..." His ears perked, he heard you sniffle, and he could've sworn that your hand reached up to your face to wipe a tear away.

It's all too familiar for him for some reason.

He has no idea what is happening, yet the sight of the girl crying in front of him just makes him want to coddle her and make her feel better.

"I'm... g-gonna take my leave now." You quickly ran away from him, making Ayato look at your running figure in shock.

He truly did not expect you to be overwhelmed just by talking to him.

And he couldn't explain why, but something in him screamed to run after you and hug you and tell you that everything is okay and that he's sorry.

...Are you... her?

...

Everyday after that encounter, it seems that the periwinkle-haired man was always there by you're side, trying to initiate a conversation.

You've gotten better at containing yourself around him. But still, you'd rather him not be there, you'd rather not be on the brink of heart attack every minute of the day.

Once you realized that he was gonna try and talk to you everytime you go to the estate, you actively tried to spend as little amount of time as possible.

Thoma and Ayaka were not gonna let that happen though.

You were about to leave and take a few days off, but then Thoma approached you. "My lady, Lady Ayaka was hoping that you'd come in tomorrow and help her with the organization of the upcoming festival." He passed on your sister-in-law's message. "Since you've helped my lord with this business before, you might be a great help."

You honestly should have seen this coming. And even if they're making it seem like you had a choice, they knew you'd cave in, they knew you'd come tomorrow and try to help.

They most certainly planned to give Ayato the chance to work on the festival so that you help him with it instead of Ayaka when you came in the next day.

"So... this is my job."

You hated to admit that you were amused with Ayato's reactions to things he had to do.

"Yes, my lov- my lord." He cleared your throat immediately, hoping he didn't catch that mistake. You chastised yourself, for letting your guard down.

"What do we do first?" Though you found his excitement to work again and rediscover what he does for a living very cute and amusing, you stand stiff and focused.

He's not your husband.

You remind yourself constantly as you work on the task at hand.

The cycle continues though, Ayaka and Thoma will make sure that you have a reason to come back to the estate, basically setting Ayato up for at least an hour with you almost everyday.

And you could not even describe how tired you are, tired of constantly being on your guard, tired of pretending to not be his wife.

But this is for him, this is what he wants. He said so himself, you should always remember that.

...

He wants to take you out on a date.

Though Ayato had many conflicting feelings about his situation, and his lost memories, he thought that surely making some nice memories bow would do him some good.

Ayato finds that you are quite shy towards him, never meeting his eyes and always speaking to him in a low and mumbly voice.

He found your mannerisms cute too! Even when you don't look at him much, he often has his eyes on you, seeing how your eyes light up a bit when he says something funny or amusing.

Which is why he asked the help of his sister and his retainer to ask you out on a date around town.

"Y/N, may I talk to you, please?" You heard Ayaka's soft voice call out for you.

You walked up to her. "Umm... Anything I can for you?" Again, awkward interactions because she also doesn't approve of your actions.

"I was thinking, brother really wants to explore around the city, especially since the festival that you both planned starts tomorrow night." You already knew what she was gonna say next.

Thoma stood next to her, "I think my lord feels the most comfortable around you, so why not go with him tonight?"

You sighed, looking at them with a frown. "Guys, please... I-I know what you're doing. Thoma, you heard him! He wants nothing to do with me." Thoma looked at you disapprovingly.

"My lady, Lord Ayato loves you more than anything. Why hurt the both of you like this over things that were said out of angry?"

"Y/N... do you still love my brother?" Ayaka looked at you expectantly, her voice laced with doubt.

You looked at her in disbelief. "...I love him more than anything, words cannot explain just how much." You stated firmly, closing your eyes as a few tears fell from your eyes. "And I know he's better off without me."

Ayaka's hands closed into a fist, "I'm your family too! I love you too! You can't just leave us, not because of a stupid fight!" Tears of her own fell down her face, sobs escaping her mouth.

Thoma held her to make sure she didn't break down to the ground. You stood there in shock, before snapping out of it and cupping Ayaka's face.

"Oh, my dear, I'm sorry." You pulled her into a hug, and she immediately melted into you. "I won't completely vanish. I promise I'll still be here, even if I'm not your sister-in-law anymore." You felt her shake her head on your shoulder.

But she couldn't speak anymore, she merely hugged you and sobbed away. You couldn't help but cry along with her.

...

"Y/N!" You immediately wiped away your tears, hearing Ayato's voice call your name.

Ayaka left you and went back into the house half an hour ago, and you decided to stay for a bit and let some tears out before running off home.

His voice was friendly and cheery, "Thoma and Ayaka said that they talked to you about... Um, you know, tomorrow night..." He scratched the back of his head, acting a bit flustered. "It may seem lame to ask you out using my sister, hehe." He's completely unaware of what happened half an hour prior.

"So what do you say?" He looked at you expectantly.

He's not your husband.

Say no.

"I'll meet you at Uyuu Restaurant at seven."

You wanted to choke yourself to death for being a frustrating and stubborn little bitch.

...

The people of Inazuma aren't aware of what happened to the Yashiro Commissioner, the Kamisato Clan made sure no news ever got leaked. To the eyes of others, it may just look like the Lord of the Kamisato Clan and his wife going out for an evening together, but in reality, everything is just a complicated mess.

And you are extremely tired, so, to finally end everything and let Ayato go, you concocted a plan so that Ayato wouldn't ever want to be with you ever again.

You were gonna be the most infuriating date ever.

Showing up late and putting no effort to how you look, eating a lot, asking for many expensive things, judging his every move, things like that. That should be enough, right?

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

No, it wasn't.

7:10 pm

You walked up to the table Ayato was sitting in. You were in your sleepwear, a purple matching cotton pajamas and top with your hair in a messy bun.

His eyes found yours and he immediately smiled. "You look really cute."

Your mouth dropped, seriously?!

7:20 pm

"I would like Sakura Tempura, a Sashimi Platter, an Egg Roll, and Dango, please!" You said to the waiter, looking at Ayato to see his reaction.

"Is that too much?" You asked him, hoping to provoke him a little.

"Not at all!" He stated with a smile, looking down on his menu. "Your orders are actually quite cheap. How about I order you some sake and more dessert as well?"

"No nee-" You couldn't stop him from ordering those for you too.

This isn't working.

8:00 pm

That festival mask was 10,000 mora. This may be too much, but you had to do something to salvage the plan.

"Ayato, look!" You exclaimed, setting his attention to the mask. It has many intricate designs, and a few gems stuck on it.

"Do you want it? I bet it would look very pretty on you."

'Ohhh... but the mask is really expensive...' You were feeling already feeling sorry.

"Y-Yeah..." You said quietly, but he heard it, taking out a bag of mora and approaching the merchant selling it.

You weren't paying attention, so when you felt him place the mask on your head, just above your face, your cheeks flushed.

"Just as I suspected, gorgeous..."

8:30 pm

This isn't working...

You've been walking and doing all kinds of things in the festival for a while, and the date is going so well. This wasn't supposed to happen!

You even tried being rude to him, saying how he walks too slow, his clothes are uneven, or he... you weren't really good at being rude.

"You walk too slow."

"I apologize if I'm bothering you. If you'll allow it, let me hold your hand so that we stay with each other's pace." You walked around the festival hand in hand for the rest of the date.

"Your clothes are uneven."

"Oh, I can't really see it. Can you fix the uneven part for me?" So then, you were stuck fixing the nonexistent uneven part of his clothes, holding the fabric.... just like when you would fix his clothes for him in the morning back then...

'No... stop that, please.'

Ayato's pleasant self negated every 'bad' thing you did.

He could only be more amused as he saw you very obviously thinking, perhaps of another 'insult' you could throw at him.

You were just too cute.

9:00 pm

He invites you to go to Amakumo Island with him as an ending to your date. Seems he got the whole night planned out... he does that a lot for your dates, which you do find amusing.

...Stop.

Of course, you could only agree, knowing that Thoma and Ayaka would light your butt on fire if you ever left Ayato on his own tonight (a part of your decision maybe because you wanted to spend more time with your husband, but you still didn't have a choice).

You sat at the peek of the small island, looking at the see that reflected the stars in the night. It's a beautiful night.

Ayato sighed, scooting a bit closer to you. When you looked at his face, you could see that it seems to display an expression of contentment.

He turns to look at you, making you immediately straightened your head, trying to make it look like you weren't looking at him just then.

It obviously didn't work as an amused chuckle left his lips.

He's not your husband.

But this is still very nice.

You felt his hand going on to hold yours, and you know that all you've been trying to do that night was get him to not like you, and you've honestly tried and failed to do so.

In that moment, you just gave in, finding it hard to move your hand away from his. You even assured him by lightly squeezing his hand.

This is the most relaxed you felt in weeks. If only things can stay this way.

...

"I'm really glad I met you, Y/N."

...

No, you couldn't hold it anymore.

Slowly, tears started going down your face. The more they fell, the less you could control yourself to stop crying. An overwhelming amount of emotions, blocked by a dam finally broke open, and you finally let it all out.

Ayato's expression changed, becoming shocked as you let out little sobs while trying to wipe your tears away. He saw you try to control your breathing, just like the girl in his dreams, he heard the little whimpers coming out of you, the same he heard from that girl.

You let his hand go, "I'm sorry..." You hiccuped, standing up and immediately running away from him.

"Y/N!"

"LEAVE ME ALONE, PLEASE!" You shouted at him.

"Sometimes, I wish I never met you."

Just like then, you ran back to your home, collapsing on the floor in a fit of whimpers and sobs.

"He's not my husband..." You repeated in your mind. That man you went on a date with wasn't your husband, your husband was the Ayato that said he wished he hadn't met you, that looked at you in anger and shame.

The Ayato you were just with was a person you met a few weeks ago after you saved him.

They aren't the same.

Your husband doesn't love you anymore. He wouldn't ever ask you on a date anymore. He wouldn't say he was happy that he met you.

"He's not my husband..." You did not believe in your own words.

Ayato walked alone through Chinju Forest with a solemn face. He kept thinking back to the look of your face and how you were trying desperately to calm yourself down.

He didn't like the look of your crying face, he could even sense the pain you were feeling as you let whimpers escape your shaking lips. The scene sent needles to his heart.

And just as he thought that it was the perfect date.

Did he do something to make you react that way?

As he was thinking, a glimmering object shone in the corner of his eye, immediately gaining his attention. Ayato looked around, before seeing something on the ground reflecting the glow of the moon.

Leaning down to pick it up, he saw a ring, and as he looked at it longer, he felt a raging headache attack his mind.

He groaned, it wasn't as if that was the only time he got headaches, they were quite frequent.

But he couldn't help but feel some sort of familiarity towards the ring, like he has seen it before.

The ring looked extremely special. He decided to bring it with him and hopefully Thoma might be able to help him find who the owner is.

But the number one thing in his mind right now is you.

He hopes that you're alright.

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

Ayato head was already aching when he came home to a small box on his bed.

It looks like it has gone through some stuff, it has dents everywhere and it looked like it was thrown around.

Is it for him?

Since it was on his bed, he decides to opens it, finding a piece of paper inside along with an even smaller black box.

"Ayato, I really hope you like this gift! It might not make sense when you first open it, but I have a proper explaination about what it is. I'd like to explain you in person."

The bottom of the paper has the words "I love you," in it, as well as a "From your beloved wife, Y/N".

His breath hitched.

Within the black box, he saw a necklace with a charm of what he can assume to be a constellation.

Ayato took out the ring in his pocket, like his memory has been jogged.

You...

You were wearing a ring that looked like it paired with the ring in his hands now.

As Ayato was planning to hold your hand while you were looking away from him, he noticed a ring on your ring finger.

Perhaps it was just the right fit for that finger instead of your middle, that's why you were wearing it there.

The ring was beautiful though, something he would probably pick out for something special.

When he held your hand, he couldn't help but smile at the sight of your hands together, his eyes especially still focused on your ring.

Maybe you forgot, but you left your wedding ring on when you went out for your date.

"I'd like to explain to you in person."

He wasted no time in taking that offer.

Rushing out of the estate, Thoma immediately stepped in his way.

"My lord, you can't just leave! Especially by yourself. Remember what Lady Ayaka said to you." The blonde blocked his master's path, seeing the Yashiro Commissioner's hurried steps to the estate exit.

Thoma's eyes landed on the box within Ayato's hand, noticing the tight grip on the familiar cover.

Oh...

His green eyes then saw his Lady Ayaka, standing far behind her brother. His mouth parted in disbelief.

Has Ayaka taken matters into her own hands?

Without Ayato noticing, the two's eyes were locked, and then Ayaka gave their retainer a firm nod, signalling for Thoma to let her brother go.

"You don't understand, Thoma! I need to-" Ayato was just about to argue, but his words were cut short when the blonde just gave way for him.

"I understand more than you might think, my lord." Thoma sighs, crossing his arms. "Y/N, she... she lives in Konda Village."

Ayato was shocked to say the least, can Thoma really read him so easily?

His mind was filled with confusion, many unanswered questions. But one remained on top of his priority, and he needed to get to you now.

Without another word, he hurries off into the forest, on his way to the village you resided in. Despite the tiredness, he pushed on to go to you.

Yet Thoma's final words didn't escape his ears.

"You aren't the only one that needs to remember."

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

Fatigue was spreading all over his body.

But he hoped that he can still make it to you.

He doesn't expect an explanation to be served up to him in a silver platter, given that everything after his accident seems to have been a mess.

He can't fully wrap his head around the situation.

If what he read was true and you're his wife....

If you're the mysterious girl that he was chasing in his dreams....

If you love him and he loves you...

Why would you do this to him?

"Don't go..." His voice was a little playful, but you could sense that there was some sincerity in his words.

You giggled as you packed your clothes for your business trip to Watatsumi Island. "Ayato..." You feel warmth spread through your chest as he hugged you from behind.

"This is my job, as a lady of your clan." His embrace only tightened, stopping your from packing your things. "It's only for two days, my dear."

"Two daysss..." He whined quite dramatically, placing his chin on your shoulder so that you could visibly see his pout. "Who I am suppose to cuddle during bedtime and kiss awake in the morning?"

You sighed in amusement, turning so that you're now facing him. "I promise that when I get back, you can have all the cuddles and kisses you want."

"I want a very exclusive week of you being with me at all times as well."

"Hmmm, why?"

"Because I'm gonna be very deprived in the next two days so you're gonna have to nurture me back to health afterwards." He argued like a child, very unlike him outside of the privacy of your bedroom. You liked having this side of him all to yourself.

"Alright, fine. Now sit down so I can pack properly without interruptions." You said jokingly, pushing him to sit on your bed.

You were able to get through a few more minutes of undisturbed packing, until...

"Don't goooo..."

"Don't go." He whispered into the air, his hurried steps turned to slow walking. This has always been the case since his accident, he gets very tired so much faster than before.

That... memory... that just played in his head...

Was it real?

You and "him"... looked so in love with each other.

"Have you ever thought about an heir?" You stopped in your tracks, hearing the voice of your husband's friend coming from the living room.

"Ahhh, I definitely have thought about it. But I will always consider what my wife wants with this subject." You hear your husbands voice after that.

Eavesdropping may not be very proper and polite, but you couldn't help it. Such a topic never even made it's way to your past conversations.

"Does your wife not want a child?"

You thought about it youself... it would be nice to have a little family with Ayato, with a cute little baby boy or girl to share your love for.

"I honestly don't know, never talked to her about it."

...

When Ayato went into your room for the night, you looked at him intently, much to his surprise.

"Is there something on my face, darling?" He asked, as your gaze never faltered.

You shook your head, then he merely shrugged off and went through his nighttime routine.

Still, his curiousity peaked when he went to lay down with you and you remained looking at him the same way.

"Umm, darling-"

"Yes, I do want a family with you."

Despite his cool and dignified self, Ayato couldn't hide his surprise at your sudden statement. Looking at his expression, you sighed, before doing what was the only thing that could make your husband even more at a lost for words.

You straddled him, sitting on his lap.

"Is... is that okay?" You asked when he didn't give a respond to your statement.

"Yes... please." You couldn't help but giggle, as your sly husband was at a lost for words.

"I would love to have a family with you."

Ayato's head started spinning.

His vision was getting blurry.

He was going to collapse.

Happy...

He looked so happy with you.

Even then, even now, he's happy... with you.

He just doesn't understand why... why you lied to him.

And as he fell on his knees from sheer exhaustion, his memory further gave answers.

"All of this happened because of a stupid fucking package, huh?" You flinched a bit when he cursed, feeling even more pathetic than you were a few minutes ago. It's even worse because it's true, all this did happened because of your package.

"I... I didn't k-know-" Your voice was soft and gentle, yet still full of shame. You sat on the couch with your head hung low.

"What is so fucking important that you had to ruin so much of our work?!" You couldn't answer, you just kept quiet, because to be honest, it wasn't anything important, and you were stupid for ordering it in the first place.

Your husband wiped his face with his hand in frustration, mumbling a bunch of other curse words. You stood up, walking closer to him and reaching your hand out to comfort him.

His hand caught yours, his eyes had finally bore into yours. His teeth almost seem to grind against each other, "You know... sometimes, I just wish...."

"Sometimes I wish I never met you."

All the blurry visions he has seen in his dream, suddenly they become clear.

He held the box tight, as he felt the most painful headache starting to form.

Tears filled his eyes.

He could no longer walk, but he saw... people, they were hurriedly walking to him, and he can faintly hear their worried murmurs.

Those words "he" said, he wishes to take them back down his throat, he wishes to delete the entire scene from existence.

Yet there was nothing he could do but cling on to the memory his brain had for him next.

"Excuse me, sir." He looked up, seeing a girl smile brightly at him, her umbrella covering the rain falling from the sky.

Ayato sat below a tree that barely covered him from the rain before, but he figured that it was better than getting completely soaked. So he was planning to stay there to wait the rain out.

"I noticed that you're kinda stranded here." The girl snickered a little, covering her mouth as she laughed.

Cute. He thought, her smile influenced his lips to do the same.

"Yes, I am quite in a predicament." She offered her hand to him, pulling him up to his feet. "Thank you very much, my lady." He flashed her a calm smile along with his thanks.

"Where are you going anyway? Perhaps I can accompany you so that you don't have to wait for the weather to calm?"

He was about to go back home, but it was still quite a long way away... he decided to take a chance.

"I was about to go for a meal. Though, I find it lonely to be alone during one. So... if you have nothing else to do, perhaps I can treat you to a meal." The girl looked up at him wide-eyed, not expecting to receive such an offer. "As a thank you, miss..." He indirectly asked for the girl's name.

"Y/N." You smiled brightly at him, the scene immediately lifted his mood even more. "And I would love to join you for a meal, sir..."

"Ayato, Kamisato Ayato." You almost let go of the umbrella, but he was quick to catch on, holding your hand that was holding the umbrella steady.

A pink tint exposed themselves on your cheeks, another thing he found cute about you, among many things. "The Yashiro Commissioner?" You questioned, avoiding his gaze.

"Hmm, how about we go to Uyuu Restaurant?" He didn't answer your question, but you were certain that it was him.

Fully letting go of the umbrella, you let him take the lead as you head into the city.

"I was quite enjoying holding your hand." You turned your gaze to him, shocked at his forward comment. His smile was still there on his face, if anything, it turned kind of sly.

Not knowing how to react, you stupidly offered your hand to him. "Umm, okay..." You wanted to immediately slap yourself, yet due to nervousness, your hand remained up for the offer.

'Go down, hand! How can he even hold it when he's holding the umbrella?!' You screamed in your head.

As if listening to your thoughts, the rain came to an immediate stop. And as the man behind you noticed, he closed the umbrella, humming as if he was pleased.

When he was done, he carried it with his other hand, leaving the hand close to yours free to hold.

Ayato slipped his hand into yours. "I appreciate your kindness, my lady."

You smiled, though quite nervous... almost in like a giddy way.

You didn't look at him, hoping he doesn't notice how your hand is shaking. You merely looked up to the stars.

A constellation stuck to your memory.

Ayato sat on the grass, his mind heavy as he held the box with one hand and his head the other.

Despite the unbearable pain... remembering you was nice. So he smiled as tears fell from his eyes.

He doesn't want to forget.

"Look, it's the Yashiro Commissioner!" A worried exclaim, one he could barely hear made him look up to see a bunch of people running to his aid.

"Please, inform Lady Kamisato about the situation." The words he heard last as he fell unconscious.

Mentions (People that have been waiting for 8 months)(I'm sorry): @nasidibakar @kisum9 @kittycasie @ramvuda @the-real-fandom-person @xiaopleasecomehome @lswtamashi @rustybucketofghosts @him3ru @tartagliasmoneybag @eurooki @spicycloudsalad @icarusignite @foxlady99 @mnoxsk and others I couldn't mention for some reason.

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

Here's Part 3

This is really long because the first one was really short hehe. I really hope you liked it. And yes, I am really sorry for updating so late, and just not uploading in general. :((

I am now very busy, but I try. I love writing despite it taking over my sleep schedule and if only I was faster and more creative, I would have a lot for you guys.

See you when I see you ^-^

Might take months to post again ⊙⁠﹏⁠⊙

#genshin impact x reader #genshin impact #genshin impact imagines #genshin impact angst #genshin impact fluff #genshin angst #genshin fluff #genshin impact ayato #kamisato ayato angst #kamisato ayato #kamisato ayato fluff #kamisato ayato x reader

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howtofightwrite · 5 months

Note

How effective is clapping (boxing?) someone's ears in a fight? Like on a scale from like mild annoyance to taking someone out of a fight entirely. Something about it always seemed childish but I swear I've read something about the pressure change really messing up your eardrum and inner ear.

Boxing the ears works very well.

Your sense of balance is regulated by a fluid filled organ in your inner ear. Sensory hair cells track the way the fluid moves, or more accurately, fails to move, when your head and body move around. This is the fundamental, physiological basis, for your ability to tell up from down.

Unsurprisingly, when you get that fluid moving and doing things it's not supposed to, your body's ability to maintain your balance starts to experience some “difficulties.”

The inner ear works off some fairly reasonable expectations for how things will behave. Unfortunately, when those expectations are no longer true, for example if someone just delivered a shock of air pressure down both ear canals, it becomes surprisingly difficult to override that information.

So, when you box someone's ears, you can temporarily disrupt someone's balance, and if executed correctly, it can even cause them to crumple to the floor. Now it doesn't actually incapacitate them, and you can power through your inner ear getting slightly stirred from a hit (though, it's not going to be a fun experience. Especially if your body stumbles across the idea that your balance issues are from a poison you consumed, in which case expect to throw up. Though, if you have the ability to weaponize that, being able to literally throw up into your opponent's face is one way to offer a very clear opinion on getting your ears boxed.)

However, that's the shallow end. Boxing the ears can, as you mentioned, cause an ear drum to pop. This isn't quite as simple as it might first seem, as there are a lot of ways this blow can cause temporary or permanent damage to the ear and your ability to hear, ranging from the membrane itself being perforated (though, that's more likely if there's a sharpened object getting driven into their ear, or “ossicular dislocation,” where the bones you rely on to make the ear drum work become separated (and fixing this will require surgery.) However, it can get muchworse if enough force is applied.

There are a lot of delicate bits of bone in this part of the skull (including the malleus, incus, and stapes mentioned in the previous paragraph.) A lot of these are part of the temporal bone as a whole, but breaking parts of that can have some really unpleasant side effects including, and I'm not exaggerating (much), your brain leaking from your ear or sinuses. (Though, it's far more common that this leakage is cerebrospinal fluid, rather than the brain itself which is usually non-life threatening, and those injuries dotend to heal on their own, but in rare cases surgery is necessary to deal with CSF leakage.) Which is to say, it can get reallybad.

So, in a word, “yeah.” Boxing the ears works. A fairly light tap to both at the same times can completely scramble someone's sense of balance for a few minutes, and if you can land the hits, it is a valid way to create an opening for a hasty exit. The more catastrophic outcomes are extremely unlikely unless you're driving a lot more force into their skull, or get supremely unlucky.

Now, “supremely unlucky,” can still happen, and you are battering someone's skull, so boxing their ears isn't exactly, “safe,” but as intentional strikes to the head go, it's one of the less dangerous options. Then again, it's also not trying to do much to your foe.

-Starke

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#writing reference #writing tips #writing advice #how to fight write #starke answers #starke is not a real doctor

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choke-me-joey · 1 year

Text

Eddie Munson x fem metalhead cheerleader

Summary: Based on this - how Eddie met his not so typical cheerleader girlfriend and a little exploration of their relationship.

Content warning: 18+ content minors DNI, smoking, underage drinking, drug use, swearing, flirting, smut.

AN: there is a scene in this based on a ✨️video✨️ i had sent to me by a beautiful anon and I haven't been able to stop thinking about it. If you want the link you can find it on my page or message me and I'll try to send it!

📢 TAG LIST IS NOW FULL 📢

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 5

Chapter 4

The following Tuesday, after practice and your homework, you'd driven over to The Hideout to see the famous Corroded Coffin play to their crowd of regular drunks. You parked your car in the lot, getting out and straightening out your cropped Iron Maiden shirt. You'd paired it with some shorts and fishnets, as well as your Docs and your jacket which, courtesy of Eddie, now had a WASP pin resting proudly on the lapel.

You made your way into the, quite honestly, dump of a bar, impressed that you didn't even need a fake ID to get in. You grinned when you saw Corroded Coffin setting up on the small stage and made a beeline for your friends and your....Eddie.

"What's up, rockstars?" You smile, giving Eddie a cheeky pinch to the butt as he was bent over with his back to you sorting out his peddle. He angled his head to look at you, and nearly keeled over at the sight of your outfit. He recovered, standing up to hug you.

"Now this just isn't fair, sweetheart, gonna be playing our set with a fucking boner," he groans into you ear, making you giggle. He subtly kissed your head.

"Holy shit you actually came!" Gareth said, grinning at you from behind his drum kit. "Eddie said you might not make it because of practice."

"Like I'd miss the infamous Corroded Coffin live in concert," you gesture to the homemade banner behind them. "I'm excited!"

"You're probably the only one in the audience who is," Jeff laughs, glancing over the few people who had come to the bar to watch them play.

"Well, just remember who your biggest fan was in the early days, yeah?"

"Of course, sweetheart," Eddie winks at you and you have to wrestle down the urge to kiss him, not knowing how he felt about your...whatever this was between you being made super public yet. You instead settle on shooting him a wink and going to get yourself a drink whilst they finished setting up, patiently waiting for their set to start.

You were surprised when the bartender handed you a beer, apparently Eddie had sorted you with a drink before you'd gotten there, and again that meant nobody was checking your ID. You said nothing, taking your beer and sitting at a table close to the stage where you had a good view and Eddie could definitely see you.

The band start their set and you're completely blown away. Not only are they actually pretty damn good, the way Eddie carries himself on stage is incredible. He's confident, charismatic, nothing new there, but he eludes this sexy rockstar attitude that makes your pussy clench as you watch him. He plays with an energy that should be for 80,000 people not just 0.01% of that.

You watch his skilled fingers running up and down the frets, effortlessly playing chords without even glancing down. And when he sang, god your heart skipped a beat. His voice was the perfect mix of soft melodic singing and raw yells and shouts. They played a mix of covers and their own songs, their musical influences clear in those original pieces. Your favourite so far had been their rendition of Paranoid by Black Sabbath, and a song called Shallow Grave of their own. You had screamed and shouted and applauded, probably too enthusiastically really, but you didn't care. They were good, and Eddie was hot.

As the notes of another original song, Strangers in the Dark, came to an end, Eddie spoke into the microphone.

"We're going to change things up a little bit now folks, with a new cover dedicated to a very special person who happens to be our number one fan. This one's for you, airhead." He shot you a smirk and you grinned back at him, your cheeks flushing. "Sing along if you know it, maybe even dance a little if you're drunk enough."

The opening notes of Edge of Seventeen by Stevie Nicks, but with a Corroded Coffin touch, began to play and your jaw dropped. You fucking loved this song, and your mind and heart race when you remember you had told Eddie that, probably about 3 weeks ago when you'd first started speaking properly, only mentioned it briefly when he'd seen the tape of Bella Donna sticking out of your bag.

He'd...learnt this, for you? Made his band learn this for you without even knowing if you'd ever come to one of his shows?

It's a good thing you were sat down because your knees felt stupidly weak.

"Just like the white wing dove, sings a song sounds like she's singing, ooh, ooh, ooh," Eddie croons; his voice could have brought tears to your eyes. He wasn't playing guitar for this, cupping the mic in his hands in a way that should have been illegal.

You sit in your seat, singing along, watching as a few drunks get up to dance, mostly middle aged women who look as if Stevie Nicks is their lord and saviour.

"Come on honey, your boyfriend is singing this for you! You gotta dance!" One of the Stevie-ites grabs your hand and tries to pull you up to dance.

"Oh, I cant-" you start, feeling a little embarassed. Ridiculous really, seeing as you were in front of two entire high schools nearly every week dancing and cartwheeling and splitting. Why the fuck was dancing in front of Eddie making you shy?!

You catch Eddie's eye as you're dragged onto the small dance area in front of the stage, the woman lets go of your hand to do her own Stevie style twirl, and you laugh, doing the same when she encourages you to do so. You glance up at Eddie and he grins back at you, still singing away as he pulls you up onto the small stage, twirling you around. You stay next to him, wrapped in his arms as the band finishes the song. When the last note plays, Eddie grabs you and you kisses you hard on the lips and you wrap your arms around his neck, the small crowd whooping and cat calling as you break apart, both of you panting and grinning like fools.

"You're amazing," Eddie says breathlessly, looking into your eyes.

"Me?! I'm not the one who just turned Stevie Nicks into a bad ass metal anthem! You gotta record that, you...you're incredible!" You pant, your face starting to hurt with how much you're smiling. You run one finger down his chest whilst looking up at him through your lashes. "How much longer is the set, rock star?"

Eddie swallows hard.

"Uh, th-three songs."

"Perfect, I'll be waiting by your van when you've packed up." You shoot him a sexy smirk, pecking his lips once more and hopping off the stage to watch the rest of the set.

True to your words you were waiting, leant up against the side of Eddie's van as he finished loading up his equipment.

"So, I've been thinking, that bed you've got in there?" You gesture to the back of the van. "Super fucking comfortable, perfect for laying down after a successful show, don't you think?"

"While every fibre of my being is going to hate me for saying this, Y/N-"

"Who said anything about sex?" You cut him off and he looks at you, confusion etched on his face. "Just wanna show you how appreciative I am that you learned a song for me, very cute by the way."

"Well, I have been known to be pretty cute," Eddie grins, letting you pull him into the back of the van, kicking the door shut. He grunts, letting out a breathless laugh as you push him onto his back and straddle him, pushing his shirt up his stomach. "Hey, you know you don't have to do anything you don't want to, right?"

"What about if I want to?" You smile, rocking your hips experimentally against him. Eddie groans, fingers biting into your hips. You lean down and kiss him, tongue immediately finding his. Eddie's hands travel from your hips to your ass, squeezing it softly at first, then harder as your kisses grows deeper and more desperate. You pull away from the kiss, sitting back on your heels and your hands hover over his belt buckle. "Can I?"

"Yeah, yes, shit, you can do anything you want to me right now, sweetheart." Eddie groans as you undo his belt, your hand ghosting over the bulge in his jeans. Once his jeans are also undone, he helps you by lifting his hips so you can pull his jeans and boxers down to his mid thigh. You can't help the gasp that leaves your mouth as his cock springs free, slapping his lower stomach.

"Holy...what the fuck, Eddie?!" You laugh, unable to process what you're seeing. He's big. And not just big, but thick too. Uncut, with a delicious thick vein running along the underside of his cock. His balls are - is it weird to say perfect?- big and round and your mouth salivates at the sight. Would you even be able to wrap your hand around him? Swallow him down? Would your cunt stretch enough to accommodate him? Your brain buzzed with arousal.

"Not really something I go around showing off," Eddie chuckles, hissing as you attempt to wrap your hand around him, slowly stroking him. You pull back his foreskin to expose the head of his cock, the same beautiful shade of reddy purple as his lips, and you watch in fascination as a small bead of precum blurts out and over your fingers. "Shit, Y/N, your hand feels so fucking good."

"I haven't even done anything yet," you giggle, moving a tiny bit faster, your other hand gently cupping his balls. You make sure he's looking at you before you let a glob of spit fall from your mouth onto the head of his cock, using it to lube his shaft for your hand to glide easier along it. Eddie fucking whimpers, whimpers, at that, his head dropping back onto the pillow beneath him.

"Fuck, babe, you're fucking...you're a dream."

"A wet one, I hope?"

"You're...everything. God the amount of times I've thought about this, about you...Jesus, how are you fucking real?" Eddie sighs as you work your hand over his cock faster, the mix of your spit and his precum making it easier. "Can I...fuck, can you take your shirt off? And...and put my jacket on?"

He prayed silently that you'd agree, it was all he'd been able to think about for about 3 weeks. You smile, nodding, taking off your shirt. Eddie almost blows his load there and then. Not only were you braless, but you also had your fucking nipples pierced, the two silver bars winking at him in the dim lights streaming in from the car park. You send him a knowing smirk briefly letting go of his cock to grab his previously discarded jacket and slip your arms into it, the leather cool and somewhat a little sticky against your damp skin.

"How do I look?" Your voice is low and sultry, laced with arousal. The throb between your legs is almost unbearable now, and you grind your crotch against his leg for some relief.

"Like every wet dream I've had since I was 13," Eddie groans as you spit on his cock again. "Shit, never thought you'd be so..."

"So what?" You challenge with a smirk, one eyebrow cocked as you continue to jerk him off.

"Jesus, so fucking...filthy." Eddie gasps as you run your other thumb over the slit of his cock, gathering some precum on the digit and sucking it into your mouth. You exaggerate a moan, this was purely for him right now but he did taste really fucking good. "Shit, gonna cum soon, don't stop baby."

"Not going to Eds, want you to make a mess all over me." You push the jacket off of your tits so he can clearly see them. Your free hand pinches one of your nipples, making you moan and grind down onto him again, a whimper leaving your mouth.

"Jesus fuck!" Eddie grunts, his cock twitching in your hand as he cums, streaking your tits, stomach and a little bit of his own jacket with thick white ropes. You stroke him through it, letting go of his thick cock when he starts to hiss in discomfort. "Fuck, princess, easy, easy," he lets a breathless laugh as you scoop up some of his cum off your tits with your finger, popping it into your mouth and sucking it off. "Jesus H Christ."

"I prefer Y/N." You grin, letting out a squeal as Eddie pins you down onto the floor of the van, kissing you hard. His hand wanders to the button of your shorts. "Hey, don't worry about me, handsome. This was all for you."

"You sure? I want to." Eddie's eyes flick to yours and you smile.

"I know, and believe me I really want you to but I have to get home, school night and all that." You sigh and Eddie groans, dropping his head to your shoulder. "My fingers will just have to do tonight."

Eddie groans even louder.

"Shit, Y/N, that isn't fair."

"Relax, Eds, my parents are away this weekend, so I'll have that big, empty house all to myself. You wanna come over and protect poor little old me?" You put on a fake pout. Eddie smirks.

"And by protect you mean-"

"Fuck my brains out until I can't fucking walk and make me scream so loud the neighbours will know your name? Yeah, that's what I meant." You giggle, pecking his lips softly.

"Oh, I'll be there baby, I'll protect you so hard, don't you worry."

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