#How To Save A Broken Marriage And When To Call I

[aliyahwritings]

THE CONTRACTED HEART — Rafe Cameron (06)

MASTERLIST | Basketball Player & Model!Female Reader

Summary: Rafe Cameron, a basketball star, needs a marriage to fix his image, while Model!Reader needs one for citizenship. They may be the perfect solution for each other.

Warnings: smut, descriptions of violence, jealousy, usage of drugs, talks about body image/ed, angst, and lots of bickering. Reader is confident, a people-pleaser, has a traumatic past, and is a sunshine with an attitude. Rafe is a whore, possessive, cocky, and secretive about his past.

Word Count: 5.3k

Aliyah's Notes: after the calamity of ch5 i present u ch6.... enjoy it. or not. AND IM SORRY FOR THE ENDING 🔥😩😅😨

It's been days. Or weeks? You didn’t even know anymore. The calendar on your phone kept reminding you, but you stopped counting. Maybe if you ignored the world long enough, it’ll forget you existed. Maybe if you stayed in this apartment, you could disappear into these four walls like you were never here in the first place.

Numbers. You used to count them, obsess over them, keep track of every passing hour. But now, time feels... irrelevant. What’s the point of knowing how long you’ve been sinking when no one’s coming to pull you out?

The silence feels... safe. No one to judge you. No one to see the mess you’ve become. It’s funny, though—people always see what they want to see. The headlines called you a goddess, an untouchable force of beauty and success. But what would they say if they knew the truth? That the girl in their glossy magazines could barely stand to look at herself anymore.

You hated this. The lying, the pretending. Nina thought you were just going through a rough patch, but she didn’t know how deep the cracks went. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. You weren’t supposed to be this anymore—broken, fragile, teetering on the edge again. You swore you’d never come back to this place. But it’s funny how easy it is to fall back into old habits, how fast the darkness creeps in when no one’s watching.

No one’s watching.

Maybe that’s for the best. Let them keep seeing the version of you they wanted to see—the confident supermodel, the girl who had it all. Let them believe the lie, because the truth? The truth was ugly. The truth was you’ve been staring at your phone for days, hoping—no, needing—for a message, for something from him.

But nothing.

He was in Missouri. Working, you guessed. You didn’t even know when he was coming back. He didn’t say. 

You hated him for that. But you hated yourself more for caring. For letting him in, even when you knew better. For thinking, for just one second, that maybe—just maybe—there was something real between you, beneath all the lies you told the world.

But none of it was real. Not the dating, not the smiles, not the person they thought you were. You were a fraud. A perfect, golden fraud wrapped up in designer clothes and empty promises. And the worst part was, you were too tired to fight it anymore. Maybe this was who you were now. A girl who hid in her apartment, waiting for the world to forget she existed.

Or maybe it already happened.

The sound of the door creaking open started you, pulling you out of the spiral you’ve been sinking into. You didn’t even need to look up to know who it was. No one else had the key to your apartment beside her.

“Are you kidding me, Y/N?” Nina’s voice cut through the heavy silence like a knife. “This is the third time this week. How long do you think you can keep doing this?”

You didn’t respond.

Nina stromed in, slamming the door behind her, and you heard her heels clacking on the floor as she made her way to the living room. “You’re not answering your phone. You’re not responding to emails. You missed three shoots! People are asking questions, Y/N. What do you think I’m supposed to tell them?”

You stayed silent, curling deeper into the couch. Maybe if you didn’t look at her, she’ll go away. Maybe she’ll finally get the hint that you didn’t want to be saved.

But Nina wasn’t the type to back off. “No,” she snapped. “You don’t get to ignore me, not today. You need to get up. You need to fix this, Y/N. You think you can just hide away forever? Is that the plan? Because let me tell you, honey, the world won’t wait for you to get your shit together.”

She stood in front of you now, hands on her hips, glaring down at you like a disappointed mother. Her usually immaculate hair was slightly disheveled, and you could tell by the tension in her jaw that she’s been worrying. 

“Talk to me, honey,” she said, her voice lower now. “This isn’t you. You don’t just disappear like this. What happened? Is it Rafe? Is it work? Are you back to…” her voice trailed off, but the question hanged in the air, heavy and unspoken. 

You couldn’t look at her. The shame curled in your chest, making in hard to breathe. She didn’t know. She didn’t know how badly you’ve relapsed, how badly everything felt like it was slipping out of control again. And you couldn’t bring yourself to say it. Not to her. Not to anyone.

“When’s the last time you even showered? Eaten something decent? Your career’s on the line. Everything we’ve worked for is on the line. You can’t just… give up like this.”

Her words hit like slaps, each one stinging, but you still didn’t move. You couldn’t.

Nina huffed, pacing now, her frustration spilling over. “I don’t know what happened between you and Rafe, and honestly, I don’t care. But whatever it is, you don’t get to throw your life away because of it. You’re stronger than this, Y/N. I know you are. So why the hell are you letting this break you?”

You flinched at the word “break.” Because that’s what it feels like. Like you’re already broken, shattered into a million pieces, and you didn’t even know how to start putting yourself back together.

Nina crouched down in front of you, her voice softening, her eyes searching yours. “Talk to me, honey. Please. Tell me what’s going on. I can’t help you if you don’t let me in.”

For a moment, you almost did. You almost told her everything—the text, the relapse, the endless void you’ve been sinking into. But the words caught in your throat, choking you. What’s the point in talking when nothing will change?

You shook your head, your voice barely a whisper. “I’m fine.”

Nina’s eyes narrowed. “Don’t give me that bullshit. You’re not fine. You’re far from it. You think I haven’t seen you like this before? You’re not fooling anyone, Y/N.”

She stood, her frustration bubbling back to the surface. “You need to snap out of it. Because in five days, you’re getting engaged to Rafe Cameron, whether you like it or not. And a week after that, you’re walking down the aisle. You can’t afford to fall apart now.”

You swallowed hard, the weight of her words pressing down on you like a lead blanket. The engagement. The wedding. The lies. It all felt so suffocating, so inevitable.

Nina crossed her arms, her voice firm. “So here’s what’s going to happen. You’re going to get up, you’re going to shower, and you’re going to pull yourself together. Because tomorrow, you’ve got a charity event with Rafe, and you’re going to smile for the cameras and make everyone believe that you’re still that perfect, golden girl they love.”

You wanted to scream at her, tell her you couldn't do it, that you didn't even know how to pretend anymore. But instead, you nodded numbly, sinking deeper into the fog that had settled over your mind.

Nina sighed, her voice softening again as she headed toward the door. "I'll be back tomorrow morning. And I swear, Y/N, if you're still in this state when I get here, I will personally drag you to that charity event."

The door closed behind her with a soft click, leaving you alone with the weight of everything she'd just said.

You hadn’t slept. Not really. Just laid there, staring at the ceiling, trying to figure out how you were supposed to pretend like everything was fine when every part of you was falling apart. You could still hear Nina’s voice in your head, telling you to pull yourself together, to be the golden girl everyone expected you to be. 

You dragged yourself out of bed, your body heavy. Your legs felt weak, and your mind feltl worse. Everything was numb, but somehow you still felt the pain. You stumbled into the bathroom, turning the water on without thinking. The cold spray hit your skin like tiny needes, and you stood there for a while, trying to let the string wake you up. But it didn’t work—you were still in that fog.

When you finally stepped out of the shower, you didn’t even bother looking in the mirror. It didn’t matter. You grabbed the first thing you saw—a plain black sweater, loose and oversized, and a pair of jeans that didn’t quite fit right anymore. You didn’t even try with your hair, just pulled it back into a bun. No makeup. What was the point? It wasn’t like anyone cared what you looked like today.

When you got to the office, the tension hit you the moment you walked through the door. Your stomach twisted as you made your way down the hallway, each step heavier than the last. You could feel your pulse in your throat, your chest tightening with every breath. You shouldn’t have cared. You shouldn’t. But as you pushed open the door to the conference room and saw him sitting there—Rafe, looking like he hadn’t been bothered by a single thing—you felt the anger bubbling up, hot and sharp.

It started as a familiar ache that had been building ever since the night he walked out of your apartment without a word. Two weeks. Fourteen days of silence. Fourteen nights spent waiting for a text that never came, hoping for even the smallest explanation, something to make sense of the hollow space he’d left behind.

Day 1. Monday, 2:42 AM

You: “Hey. Are you home? LMK, just to be safe.”

Day 2. Tuesday, 8:18 AM

You: “I’m still so confused about what happened last night, but let’s talk when you have a minute.”

Day 3. Wednesday, 5.32 PM

You: “Look, if you’re mad at me, just say it! I thought we were good, what the hell?”

Day 4. Friday, 11:04 PM

You: “It’s been days and I still don’t understand why you left like this.”

Day 5. Sunday, 3:27 PM

You: “Fuck you. I don't know why I keep texting. I know you’re seeing my texts, even though I’m on delivered. Just tell me if you’re done with this.”

Day 5. Sunday, 10:41 PM

You: “Why am I acting like I’m the one who fucked up? I didn’t do anything wrong. You left me like I was nothing, and your only explanation was a shitty rom-com excuse. I thought we were friends, Rafe.”

Day 5: Sunday, 11:36 PM

You: “I hope you rot in your shit ass apartment, but trust that I will show up to one of your stupid games with a sign that says “Small Dick Ghoster” in big, glittery letters. And I hope Chiara will hug you so hard that she’ll end up strangling you to death. Fuck you, again!”

And there he was, sitting there like none of it had happened, like you were still just strangers playing a game. His posture relaxed, that effortless confidence radiating from him, his gaze fixed on the papers in front of him, completely indifferent.

It infuriated you—the ease with which he moved on, the way he could look so composed, so completely unbothered, as if he hadn’t abandoned you in that moment when you were raw and vulnerable. Like it meant nothing. Like you meant nothing.

Every part of you screamed to confront him, to demand an explanation for the silence, the absence, the complete disregard. You could feel the hurt clawing up from your chest, tangling with the anger that burned hotter with each passing second. He was so close, but somehow, he felt miles away.

So instead, you steeled yourself, locking down the hurt, burying it beneath the anger that simmered just beneath the surface. You wouldn’t let him see the effect he had on you, wouldn’t give him the power to know just how much his absence had shattered you. No—he would get nothing from you. Not a word, not a glance, not a single sign of the turmoil raging inside you.

You walked past him without a word, each step heavy with the weight of the anger you swallowed down. Let him sit there, pretending like nothing was wrong. Let him think he could ignore you, dismiss you, erase you from his life without consequence. Because you would make sure he felt every bit of the coldness he had left you with, every ounce of the hurt he’d carved into you.

Ignoring him was the only power you had left, the only way to keep the anger from spilling over, from breaking you down entirely. And if he thought he could continue on as if the past two weeks hadn’t happened, then he was going to learn just how wrong he was.

Nicolas cleared his throat, breaking the silence that had settled over the room. “Hi, you two—we’ve got a lot to go over, and the timeline is tight. The engagement is in five days, and the wedding is scheduled for a week after that. So we need to finalize the details today—food, decorations, dresses, the guest list…”

You couldn’t focus. The words blurred together a dull hum in the background as you stared down at the table. Rafe said something, his voice casual, but you tuned it out. You didn’t want to hear him.

Sabrina spoke next, her tone brighter, more enthusiastic. “The audience is really enjoying you together, by the way. Ever since your date, and especially after the pictures from Kelce’s party where you two were cuddled up? People are in love with the idea of you and Rafe together. So, good job, guys.”

Your stomach churned at her words. Cuddled up. Like you were some happy couple.

“And tomorrow,” she continued. “You’ll need to make another public appearance together. It’s a charity event for cancer awareness. A perfect opportunity for more good press. The public is expecting you two to show up as the perfect couple—affectionate, in love, all of that.”

In love.

You bit down on the inside of your cheek so hard you tasted blood. This was the part where you were supposed to smile and nod, agree to hold his hand and play the role of the devoted future fiancée. But all you felt was the tension building, the weight of the lie pressing down on you until it was suffocating.

Rafe shifted in his seat, and you could feel his eyes on you, but you still didn’t look at him. Rafe felt an uneasy twist in his stomach. You looked… different. Disheveled, almost. Your sweater hung losely over your shoulders, practically swallowing your frame, and he could see dark shadows under your eyes that hadn’t been there before. You seemed smaller somehow, your usual energy muted, replaced by something tense and fragile.

Rafe’s gaze dropped to your hands, noticing how your fingers fidgeted restlessly, twisting and tugging at your sleeves. Your leg was bouncing under the table, tapping out an anxious rhythm that only he seemed to notice. Every small movement, every nervous habit—you looked like you were holding yourself back, like there was something simmering beneath the surface, ready to break free.

You still hadn’t looked at him, hadn’t given him a single glance, and that bothered him more than he wanted to admit. You’d been messaging him, and he’d been… well, avoiding it, convincing himself it was for the best. But seeing you now, seeing the wear and tear he’d left behind, he couldn’t shake the guilt.

Rafe’s chest tightened. He’d expected you to be angry, maybe annoyed. But this? You looked worn down, frayed at the edges, like you've been carrying a weight no one else could see.

You didn’t remember most of the details they were talking about. Your mind drifted in and out of focus as they went on about the guest list, the food, the decorations. All you heard were words—dresses, flowers, venues. None of it felt real. It was as if you were watching someone else’s life unfold in front of you, just sitting there, an outsider in your own story.

“The wedding will be televised, of course,” Sabrina says, flipping through her notes, her eyes gleaming with the excitement of it all. “And with a full press presence. We want every detail to reflect both of your public personas. Elegant, grand, but also with an intimate, personal feel—something that tells a story about who you both are.”

Who we were. I almost laughed at the irony. I didn't even know who I was right now, much less who we were.

“We were thinking of something grand but elegant. A modern luxury wedding. White roses, lots of gold accents. Maybe something at the estate in the Hamptons?”

You glanced at the board, at all the glossy, pristine images of weddings that could belong to anyone. None of them felt like you.

“Do you have any preferences?” Sabrina asked, smiling like this is the most exciting conversation in the world. “Colors, themes, anything that’s important to you?”

"Actually," you finally broke your silence, your voice coming out quietly, but the words landing heavily in the room. "I’d like the ceremony to reflect... my background." You could feel Rafe's eyes on you again, but for once, you didn’t care. This wasn’t about him.

Sabrina blinked, taken aback, but she quickly nodded, jotting down notes as if she were open to whatever you had in mind. "Of course, that could be beautiful. Were you thinking about specific details?"

You hesitated for a moment, uncertain if they’d take you seriously, but you pressed on. "Yes. The colors… the decorations. I want there to be vibrant colors—not just whites and pastels, but deep greens, maroons, and gold. The way we’d have them back home. And for the flowers… jasmine and roses. That’s what we use for weddings where I’m from. I want it to feel like... like part of my heritage."

Nicolas raised an eyebrow, as if he hadn’t expected you to care about any of this. But he just nodded, his pen moving across his notepad. "We can definitely arrange that. A traditional, multicultural theme would add a unique touch to the event, I think. It’ll definitely resonate with the press and the viewers."

You didn’t care if it resonated. It wasn’t for them—it was for you, a sliver of authenticity in this whole farce.

Then Sabrina’s voice broke into your thoughts. "And of course, the dress. Have you given any thought to what you want? Or would you like us to arrange for a stylist to go over options with you?"

Your heart twisted at the mention of the dress. The one thing you’d always imagined as a girl—the dress you’d wear at your own wedding. Only, you’d never thought it would be for this.

"I’d like to include some of my culture there too," you said, your voice barely above a whisper. "Maybe... a fusion. Something elegant and modern but with hints of traditional South Asian bridal elements. Like embroidery or... beadwork. Maybe even henna if it wouldn’t look out of place."

Sabrina seemed to light up at the idea. "That would be stunning. We can definitely work with that! I know several designers who specialize in fusing traditional and contemporary styles."

She was still talking, but the air around you felt thicker, as though the room was closing in. You could sense Rafe’s gaze without even looking at him, the weight of his silence pressing into you.

You zoned out again, your mind wandering back to the last wedding you attended. The colors, the music, the way the bride’s lehenga shimmered under the sun as she walked down the aisle. You’d always thought your wedding would be like that—full of life and celebration, surrounded by people who loved you.

Instead, you were planning a wedding for the cameras, for people who didn’t know you.

The sudden, sharp knock on the door cut through the stillness like a jolt of cold water. Your head shot up from the pillow, heart hammering in your chest. For a moment, the world felt like it was still. The quiet of your apartment, the thick fog still clouding your thoughts. You didn’t want to get up. You didn’t want to face the world outside of this bed, this cocoon of emptiness you’d wrapped yourself in for days.

Another knock, this one louder, more demanding.

“Y/N!” Nina’s voice came through the door, sharp and impatient. “You better not still be in bed, because I swear—”

The door swung open before you could even make a sound, Nina storming in, wearing the same determined, unbothered expression she always had when she was on a mission. You tried to bury your face back into the pillow, but she wasn’t having it. Her hand reached down, grabbing the covers and yanking them off with force. You shivered as the cold air hit your skin, the warmth of the blankets yanked away along with any shred of comfort you’d been clinging to.

“Get up.” Nina wasn’t asking. She was commanding. “You’ve got a charity event today, and Rafe is already at the venue. We don’t have time for your pity party.”

You squinted at her, still half-wrapped in your sheets like a burrito, and mumbled from underneath the pillow, “Can’t you just… I don’t know… handle it for me? Go in my place. You’d look great in a gown.”

She cocked an eyebrow. “Oh, I’d look amazing, but you and I both know I don’t have that kind of charisma.”

“True,” you admitted, peeking out from under the pillow. 

Nina raised her hands in mock surrender. “Exactly. Now, up. I’m not playing with you today.”

Before you could even protest, she yanked the covers off you with a dramatic flourish, leaving you to shiver in nothing but your oversized T-shirt. It was a miracle you didn’t roll off the bed in the process.

“Come on, Y/N. Let’s go.” Nina didn’t wait for you to even get a grip on reality before heading straight for your closet, rummaging through your clothes like she was on a mission. “You’re going to look so good today that Rafe might just start thinking you actually like him.”

You shot her a glare that could’ve frozen water, but she just smirked, tossing a black dress onto the bed like she was some fashion fairy sent to save you from yourself.

“I’m not going,” you said flatly.

“Oh, yes, you are.” Nina threw a matching pair of heels onto the bed with the same casual flick of the wrist she used to dismiss your protests. “Because you will look stunning, and you will show up.”

You sat up slowly, rubbing your face. “What is it with you people? Why does everyone keep trying to drag me out of bed? It’s like I’m the world’s most reluctant celebrity.”

“Because you are.” Nina grinned, holding up your dress like she was presenting the Holy Grail. “But, hey, guess what? You’re really good at it. So stop sulking and get your glam on. You’re the star of the show today.”

You let out a theatrical sigh. “Oh, joy.”

Nina didn’t even flinch. “I’m not asking for a performance. Just put on the damn dress and show up. You can pretend to be miserable, and I’ll pretend I’m not a miracle worker for getting you out of here.”

You hesitated for just a moment, then dragged yourself out of bed with a grunt. “Fine.”

“Oh, by the way, Aisha’s going to be there. She practically begged me to make sure you show.”

Your eyes snapped open. Aisha Patel. Your best friend and, quite honestly, the only person in your life who could drag you out of bed with a single text. She’s been your best friend since you’d arrived in the States. She’d been away for five months—longer than ever before—working on some high-profile project in Switzerland. You hadn’t seen her in ages.

“You’re kidding,” you mumbled, sitting up and rubbing your eyes. “Aisha’s coming?”

Nina smiled smugly. “Yep. She’s flown back for the event. Can you imagine the drama if you don’t show up? She’ll never let you live it down.”

You sighed, a smile tugging at your lips. “God, I missed her.”

“Me too,” Nina said, her voice softening for just a second. “But you still have to get up. Like now.”

You looked at the dress Nina had already picked out, a sleek white gown that somehow made you feel both glamorous and like you were about to attend a royal gala. “Fine. I’m up. I’m dressed.”

Nina, who was already rummaging through your closet like a pro, grinned. “You look absolutely beautiful, honey,” she noticed your weight loss but decided to not speak on it, in fear it’ll make you relapse… if only she knew. “Chiara’s also going to be there...”

You froze, the mention of Chiara Romano sending a cold shiver down your spine. You’d told Nina everything about the Chiara encounter—her subtle digs, the way she made you feel like you were just another passing phase in Rafe’s life. She’d made things uncomfortable enough at Kelce’s party, and now you had to face her again?

“What? Fucking why?”

“Her father’s the one running the whole damn event,” she explained. “I’m surprised you haven’t heard of her or her family because they’re pretty famous, especially in the entertainment and events world. So, get ready for a day full of small talk, fake smiles, and people who will pry into your private life.”

You sighed. “How perfect is that?”

You stood in front of the mirror, trying to shake off the heavy weight of everything swirling in your head. You glanced at the clock. You were running out of time.

You reached for your hair tie, pulling it through your tangled locks. Your hair had grown longer than you remembered, and you decided to tie it up in a messy, yet elegant bun—one that would allow a few soft, curly strands to escape and frame your face. It was casual but chic—classic you. You let a few strands fall loosely, giving the bun a less formal, more effortless vibe. After a moment of satisfaction, you moved on to the makeup.

A soft, dewy glow covered your skin, nothing too dramatic. You didn’t want to feel caked in layers today, just enough to enhance your features. You applied a touch of blush to your cheeks, just a hint, to keep the look fresh. A thin line of mascara lengthened your lashes, and your signature lip combo was the finishing touch. Simple. Comfortable.

As you turned to check yourself one last time, you heard Nina's voice from the other room.

“Y/N! We need to go now. Rafe's texting me and he’s getting antsy. He’s apparently already at the event!”

You sighed, feeling the familiar rush of anxiety settle into your stomach. The mirror reflected a version of you that was ready for the world, but the world, especially tonight, wasn’t ready for this version of you. But as the pressure of the event built up, you couldn’t deny the uncertainty gnawing at you.

When you made your way into the living room, Nina was pacing, her phone glued to her ear. She shot you a quick, approving glance. “Looking good. Let’s go.”

As you grabbed your clutch, ready to face whatever tonight had in store, the doorbell rang. Your heart skipped a beat. Was it Aisha? Maybe she’d arrived early, wanting to meet up before the event?

But when you opened the door, your breath caught.

Standing in the doorway wasn’t Aisha.

It was Rafe.

He was in a suit—sharp, looking like he belonged in a magazine ad for high-end fashion—but his eyes, dark and intense, held something more than just a desire to impress. He had the look of a man who knew he had messed up.

His words hit you before you could even process them. “You look stunning. I wanted to make sure you’re okay... before all this.” The sincerity in his voice made your heart thump a little faster, and you hated yourself for it.

The words caught you off guard, and for a moment, you just stood there, blinking at him. You hadn’t expected him to show up—especially not with that kind of intensity in his eyes.

You exhaled slowly, your arms instinctively crossing over your chest, your posture defensive. The audacity of this guy.

“Really?” You scoffed, trying to mask the vulnerability creeping up your spine with sharp sarcasm. “Now you care?”

Rafe seemed to falter at that, but he quickly recovered, taking a small step closer, but not enough to make you feel cornered. “I’ve always cared, Y/N. You know that.” His voice was quieter this time, and the sincerity in his eyes almost made your resolve crack.

“Do I?” you shot back, stepping out of the doorway and giving him a once-over, your gaze icy. “Because you sure had a funny way of showing it.”

Rafe winced, a flash of guilt flickering in his eyes. He ran a hand through his hair, his jaw tight. “I messed up, okay? I should’ve reached out. I didn’t know what to say, but I should’ve just... shown up.”

You rolled your eyes, the anger simmering beneath your skin rising again. You could feel your heart pounding in your chest, not from the sight of him, but from the frustration that had been building over the past two weeks. “You didn’t know what to say? You think showing up fixes two weeks of silence? Just like that?”

He took a step forward, his face tightening, as though he was bracing himself for a confrontation. "I wasn’t sure what to do," he said, his voice lowering. "I thought... maybe you needed space. I thought if I gave you time, it would be better." He ran a hand through his hair, frustration clear in his expression. “I was trying to do the right thing.”

You stared at him for a long moment, the audacity of his words settling like a lump in your throat. “Space?” you asked, your voice low, incredulous. “You thought ghosting me for two weeks would give me space?” 

Rafe’s face twisted in guilt, but it didn’t matter. You weren’t going to let him off the hook.

“Did you at least see my texts?” you demanded, anger rising in your throat.

"Y/N, you’re needed at the car right now!" Nina called, stopping Rafe in his tracks of answering. Before you could walk away, Rafe reached out, his hand closing around your wrist, pulling you back gently.

"Wait," he murmured, his thumb brushing your skin.

You stared up at Rafe, your breath caught in your throat, uncertainty swirling in your chest. The air between you two felt charged, a thousand unspoken questions hanging in the balance. Your pulse was racing, but before you could voice any of them, Nina practically shoved you both into the elevator. Her hand pressed the button for the ground floor as she threw your heels at you, the sharp click of the stilettos punctuating the tension.

You caught them on instinct. The elevator descended, and your mind was still spiraling, trying to piece together what the hell was happening. What the fuck—this distance between you and Rafe? 

But just as the elevator doors opened, the sound of a familiar car door slamming outside caught your attention. A quiet thud, followed by the sound of heels clicking against pavement. Your instincts were on alert, an uneasy feeling crawling under your skin.

And when you turned to look, you saw someone stepping out of the car.

Someone who shouldn’t be here.

“I was wondering when we’d get the chance to catch up.”

chapter seven

[maskedbyghost]

Stalker - part 2

https://www.tumblr.com/maskedbyghost/761077146667139072/stalker <- part 1

NSFW, MDNI

(simon is a bit possessive in this part too, a lot of you're mine exclamations lol, idk if I like this honestly)

"What are you doing here?" You asked, breath caught in your throat. You hadn’t seen him in months, not since the divorce papers were signed, and yet here he is, standing right at your doorstep. The man you once loved, the man you thought you’d never see again.

"Simon?" You managed to whisper, but when you saw a bouquet in his hands, from the same flower shop your stalker frequently visited, it all came to you. Simon was your stalker. Or something like that. You didn't know what to call him anymore.

He took a step closer, but you instinctively backed away, your hands shaking.

“You—” Your voice faltered, and you struggled to find the words. “You’ve been watching me?”

He stepped into the house—the house you once shared, now heavy with memories. "Please, love, let me explain." He closed the door gently behind him, leaning back against it with flowers still in his hands.

You stood there, arms wrapped around yourself, your body stiff with tension. His presence felt suffocating, filling the small space between you, just like the memories of all the times you had waited for him to walk through that same door. But not like this. Never like this.

“Explain?” You scoffed, unable to hide the bitterness in your voice. “How can you explain this, Simon? How do you explain any of this?”

He opened his mouth to speak, but you cut him off before he could say a word. “You ruined our marriage, Simon! You left me here, alone in this house. You didn’t fight for us! You didn’t fight for me.” Your voice cracked, but you forced yourself to stay steady.

Tears threatened to spill, but you blinked them away, refusing to show weakness now. “And now, after you’ve already broken everything, you come back as my stalker?” You could barely breathe through the rage, your head spinning with disbelief. “What the fuck is wrong with you, Simon?”

Simon stared at you for a long moment, his eyes searching yours, before he slowly set the flowers down on the table beside him. Then, he removed the mask from his face, revealing the features you once knew so well—the face you had caressed countless times in the past. Damn it. He was still as handsome as you remembered.

Not now, brain! Focus. His looks couldn’t save him this time, not after everything he had done. Not after all the damage he had caused.

He took a step toward you, but when you instinctively backed away, Simon froze. He let out a heavy sigh and stopped in his tracks. "Please let me explain, and then I promise I will leave you alone."

“You have five minutes,” you said, your voice firm, “and then I want you out.” You turned on your heel and walked toward the living room, Simon following closely behind.

Simon sat down across from you, his expression a mix of desperation and regret. He took a deep breath before he started talking. “I need you to understand something,” he began, his voice steady but strained. “When I left, I was on a dangerous mission, one that I couldn’t discuss with you. I was cut off from communication, and forced into secrecy. It wasn’t because I didn’t want to contact you; it was because I couldn’t.”

He paused, looking down at his hands before meeting your gaze again. “During that mission, someone discovered that I had you. They found out about us and used that information against me. They threatened me, they said that they would kill you, and I had no choice but to stay away. I thought if I kept my distance, they wouldn’t have any way to find your exact location. Instead, I sent a few people here to look after you, and eliminate any possible threat."

Your heart ached as you listened, but you remained silent, letting him continue.

Simon continued, his voice breaking slightly. “I had to deal with those men before I could even think about coming back.”

He swallowed hard, clearly pained. “When you sent the divorce papers, it felt like the final blow. I knew you deserved better—better than the life I was dragging you into. I signed the papers because I thought it was what you wanted. I thought you’d be safer without me.”

Simon’s eyes were filled with sorrow. “I should have fought harder, but I was afraid of making things worse for you. I thought you didn’t want to see me, so I stayed away, even when it was killin' me inside. I started keepin' an eye on you from a distance, trying to make sure you were okay.”

He leaned forward, his eyes pleading. “I know I don’t deserve your forgiveness. I know I’ve caused you so much pain. But I swear, I never meant for any of this to happen. I’m here now because I need to fix this, to make sure you’re safe and that you know the truth.”

The emotions poured inside you—betrayal, fear, love, and a desperate need to understand how everything had spiraled so out of control.

"Why now?" You asked, voice surprisingly calm. "Why didn't you show up earlier?"

“I got tired of dealing with the guys who tried to hit on you,” Simon said, his voice tinged with frustration.

You were left even more confused than before. You knew he could be jealous, but you hadn’t realized how far his possessiveness could reach. “I went on a date, you know?” you said, trying to prove some point at the moment, like he couldn't keep all of the suitors away.

“I know,” Simon growled, his voice tight with frustration. “Your friends were sneaky about setting you up with that fucker, I’ll give them that. I had to sit there for three hours, watching you smile at him, before I could do anythin'.”

"Should I even ask?"

"No." Simple as that. "Fuck, I know my wife is fuckin' perfect, but dealin' with all of them was more exhausting than I ever imagined.” I small smile appeared on his face, and you didn't know what to say. This was all messed up.

Simon slowly approached where you sat and lowered himself to his knees. He took your hands in his, pressing his lips to each knuckle. When his gaze settled on your ring finger, it was empty of course, you had removed the ring the moment he signed the divorce papers. He lingered there, his expression full of regret.

As Simon stared at your bare ring finger, the weight of his actions seemed to hit him all at once. His shoulders slumped, and he looked up at you with eyes full of sorrow.

“Seein' you without the ring,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper, “it’s like a reminder of everythin' I’ve lost. I didn’t realize how much I’d hurt you until now.”

Simon's grip on your hands tightened, his fingers gently tracing the veins on your wrists. “I'm beggin' you, love,” he pleaded, his eyes searching your face. “Please give me another chance. Let me prove to you that I can be the man you deserve.”

"Simon....I don't know."

"You're mine," he hissed, "You belong to me."

His grip tightened as he pulled you even closer, his body pressed against yours. "And I'm not lettin' go of what belongs to me," he growled in your ear.

Simon could see the mixture of emotions playing out on your face. His grip on your arms loosened, but his eyes remained intense, staring deeply into yours.

"I know I've hurt you," he continued when you didn't say anything, his voice a mixture of frustration and pleading. "I know I've made a mess of things. But I've never stopped loving you, not for a single moment."

“Simon, I understand that you’re trying to explain yourself, and I can see that you’re hurting, but your actions have caused a lot of pain, I don't know if I can trust you anymore." You said as the tears filled your eyes.

"I know," he said, his voice wavering. "And I don't expect you to trust me right away. I hurt you, and I'll spend the rest of my life making it up to you if you give me the chance."

He gently wiped the tears from your cheeks with his thumbs, his touch soft and tender. "Please, love," his own eyes welling up, "just give me a chance to prove it to you."

You sighed as Simon moved closer, placing a tender kiss on your cheek. When you didn’t pull away, he continued with gentle kisses down your neck, each kiss light. His lips traveled slowly up to your own, pausing just before they made contact. He lingered there, his breath mingling with yours, as he gazed intently into your eyes, his lips hovering near yours as if waiting for permission.

Your breath hitched as he paused, his lips hovering a hair's breadth away from yours. His eyes were filled with a mix of tenderness and raw desire. He waited for a moment, the anticipation hanging in the air. Then, finally, he closed the distance, his lips claiming yours in a kiss that was equal parts gentle and desperate.

But the kiss lasted for a moment only, he pulled back, and leaned his forehead on yours, before whispering "You are mine."

You trembled slightly as he tangled his fingers in your hair, pulling gently in that familiar way he used to do. With his lips brushing against yours, he whispered, “No matter what, you will always be my girl, fucking mine. No one can take you away from me, and I'll grovel at your feet for eternity if it means you’d forgive me.”

The possessiveness in his voice sent a shiver down your spine. His fingers in your hair, his breath on your lips, and his words leaving you overwhelmed.

"Simon..." you breathed, feeling the mix of emotions swirling inside you. "It's not that simple. You hurt me. You broke my trust."

His grip tightened in your hair, pulling your head back slightly, and his lips pressed against the exposed flesh of your throat. He nipped at your skin, his breath hot on your skin.

“I know,” he murmured, his voice rough with emotion as he nuzzled against your neck. “I can’t undo what I’ve done or make up for the pain I caused, but I want you to know that I’m committed to doing whatever it takes to rebuild your trust. I’m willing to wait, to earn your forgiveness, and to prove that I’ve changed. Just please, don’t shut me out completely. I need a chance to make things right.”

Your heart ached at his words, the pain and the love battling within you. The familiar feeling of his body pressed against yours added another layer of confusion to your conflicting emotions.

You reached up and gently ran a hand through his hair, feeling the soft strands between your fingers. A shiver ran down your spine as his breath tickled your skin, a small part of you surrendering to this need for him.

The feel of your hand in his hair and your body close to his sent a shot of desire through his body. He groaned deeply, his hands gripping your hips as he pulled you even closer, his body molding to yours.

His lips moved up your neck, his tongue tracing a fiery path up to your ear. "I need you," he whispered, voice thick with need. "I need to touch you, to feel you, to know that you're still mine."

"You know where the bedroom is."

Simon smiled as he got up with you in his arms, he wasted no time in carrying you to the bedroom, his strong arms holding you effortlessly. The air in the room was thick with a complex mix of emotions. On one side, there was the unresolved tension of past hurt and betrayal. On the other, there was a delicate, hopeful sense that maybe, just maybe, you could find a way to reconnect and rebuild what you once had together.

[wavesoutbeingtossed]

My brain is on fire same I can’t sleep and am thinking of this:

The way she writes about marriage/family/commitment through these different situations across the album is soooooooooo interesting.

You have a very intense first experience of it in “The Manuscript,” where it is first dangled in front of her/the narrator’s young, impressionable self as shorthand for real love in a situation that ended up being smoke and mirrors. She’s being told everything she wants to hear by someone who basically thinks it’s just foreplay. In the end, when it’s clear that the other person has no intention of actually making a life with her, it makes her feel used, but she forces herself to recalibrate and become the girl she thinks he and all the other hes want her to be. Easy breezy cool. But there’s a sense of loss in realizing those hopes were merely banter to the other.

You have the “grown up” version of it alluded to in “So Long, London” and “How Did It End?”, the years of putting in work to save a relationship and the “deflation of our dreaming leaving [her] bereft and reeling” leading to them “calling it all off.” The implication is clearly that they built a home together with plans for next steps at a point in time, but the commitment is shattered. (Obviously to me it sounds like marriage.) She’s bitter at spending her “prime” years with someone who ultimately didn’t want to be there, even if he couldn’t or wouldn’t admit it himself.

She felt like she did everything she was supposed to, but they were learning the right steps to different dances at as it were. Those dreams were at one point shared, but in the end they weren’t right for each other and she admits that, though bitterly (“I founded the club she’s heard great things about” eg the years she put in for him to help him grow up will end up benefiting his new lover, “but I’m not the one,” “you’ll find someone,” etc.). Mixed in with all this of her resentment of him wasting her youth (sacrificing herself at the altar), and his resentment of her for reasons less defined, and insinuations of betrayal in the shadows. The fantasy of the whole package disappears into the ether, yet she still has no answers as to how they got there.

Then in comes the wolf in sheep’s clothing in many of the rest of the songs, the one who promises her all those things she’s dreamed of since she was a kid instantly. After years of moulding herself to other men’s desires, someone comes in and tells her exactly what she wants to hear at the most vulnerable time of her life, as though the universe is answering her prayers, like some sort of cosmic payback for all she’s suffered, and it’s the most intoxicating drug of all. She’s gone from her wish for a family life feeling like she’s in a way being used for her body, to it being used as a chain to a relationship gone sour, to having someone put a metaphorical ring on her finger and tell her he wants to have babies with her, fuck those other guys.

In her grief and stupor, it’s too good to be true, which is exactly why she falls for it. But of course, it’s all an illusion, because this wolf is an amalgamation of the worst of all the men who came before him. He tells her everything she wants to hear not to make her dreams come true, but to make his. He takes the worst parts of these scenarios to make his move: he’ll stand by her, he’ll commit, he’ll do it out in the open under the spotlight’s glare (all things desperately lacking in her last relationship), but after he beds her he stabs her in the back in private and leaves her. He got what he wanted at the expense of her losing everything she wanted, this time as her world caved in seemingly for good. She feels like she gave up everything she thought she might have had for a chance that this is where the universe has been point her all along, only to be left broken for good (you represent the loss of my life as I knew it).

Then there are two sort of codas to this. In “But Daddy I Love Him” we get a sassier reimagining of “Love Story,” where the girl with the scarlet letter is mouthy and crass and tells everyone to go fuck themselves for cursing her in the first place, choosing her love above all else. And no, those haters can’t come to her wedding. Her daddy may have come around, but they sure can’t. Finally it seems someone is choosing her and will someday give her these things, and she’ll be able to show all the naysayers. (Also interestingly one of the more fictionally-veiled songs which ends happily vs the diaristic ones that don’t.)

Then of course there’s “So High School,” our first glimpse into what the future holds. Probably the only unabashedly happy (nay… electric?) song on the album, it’s all about reclaiming the buzz of youth (which is a whole other post) with a new lover. “Are you gonna marry, kiss or kill me? It’s just a game but really, I’m betting on all three for us two.” It’s, er, a direct nod to a certain now-infamous interview, but again, she’s staking her claim on her future, if not certain then at least hopeful again. This time the prospect doesn’t come with a “but.” It’s not, we’ll be pushing strollers but actually you’re too young. It’s not, we had these dreams for our future but actually I can’t move forward. It’s not, I’m going to promise you a ring and a baby but only until my needs are met and then I’m out. It’s, I know what I wanted and I’m not leaving, and thanks to that now she stays too.

The album dealt with the theme not at all in the way I expected, but is absolutely fascinating.

[hoshinasblade]

second best |2| hoshina soshiro

PART 1 | PART 2 | BONUS: PART THREE

pairing: hoshina soshiro x f!reader genre: slight angst, comfort, childhood friends to lovers, a bit of that miscommunication trope snippet: hoshina soshiro always ranks second at everything in his life. god forbid he falls behind in the bid for your heart too. word count: 2.5K trigger warnings: author's note: hello, reposting the part 2 because of hiccups from saturday when i posted it first (tumblr blocked my blog lol). likes, reblogs, and replies are always appreciated but please do not copy or steal my works. in celebration of this blog reaching 100 followers recently, i have written a bonus part 3 which will be posted within this week. my taglist form is here, and feel free to let me know your thoughts by sending me an ask through here. using my degree correctly by writing hoshina fanfics yes

you aren't sure when things changed between you and hoshina soshiro.

when you were young, you would have understood that he didn't have the attention span to deal with you. he wasn't exactly shy, but you wouldn't call him friendly too - unlike you, who has taken it upon herself to be friends with all the children in the small neighbourhood. unfortunately for you, only the hoshina brothers are at the same age as you are, and at that time you thought that was a sign that fate was giving - you ought to be close to them.

you won't deny that you were fonder of the hoshina brothers than anyone when you started school. if you are being honest, you like them more than any of your expensive dolls or toys. being an only child, you thought it was only natural to want someone to be with - to want someone to share things with.

the brothers would have their endless training sessions every day, and though you did not know how to swing a sword then, you insisted to your parents - and theirs - that you must join them. sometimes you would be sitting on the floor just watching them, and frequently you would be the one keeping count of the score between soshiro and soichiro when they spar.

soshiro has never won a single match against his brother when they were kids.

but you didn't mind. you still preferred him over soichiro.

in fifth grade, you bought him the biggest cake your meagre savings could buy. it wasn't much really, but you won't forget how wide his eyes went when you lighted the candles and sang him the happy birthday song albeit out of tune. the next year, you gifted him a small keychain - a teddy bear in a purple kimono. you never saw him use it.

it wasn't until years after that you worked out what your feelings for him were. the girls from your class would make small talk and ask if you have a boyfriend now and then. you would say no all the time. at sixteen, you felt like you didn't need to be in a relationship - because you have soshiro, you said to yourself - and that was when it hit you.

every time soshiro would talk to you after that, you would peek in your little compact mirror, worried he had miraculously discovered your secret, afraid that maybe your face had given it away. he caught you doing that once, and he accused you of attempting to be pretty for him.

"is it me ye're trying to be cute for?" he volunteered to carry your bag on your way home but you declined. you didn't want to start assuming things; you knew he was just being nice.

"ya wish," you deflected effectively.

"well, whoever it is for, they're in for some trouble", he commented, and you chose not to read too much in his words. you realized how the walk to your house always seemed to be shorter when you were with soshiro.

when you turned eighteen, you asked your mom what it meant to be in love. she was the last person you had wanted to ask - your parents had broken their perfect marriage not long ago, your father choosing to abandon your mother and you. soshiro taught you the basics of kendo during those hard months. "i'll even let ya beat me", he said to you.

"it's when you care for them so much that you will go as far as to let them go because you wanted them to be happy," your mother answered.

soshiro did not have the decency to say goodbye when he left himeji. you wanted to celebrate with him, and it wasn't like you weren't familiar with his plans to move after graduation. you used to stay up late with him, and inevitably the conversation would steer to his dream of getting out of your town. he would say that it's to expand his horizons - for his growth - but you like to give yourself some credit because you know him too well to simply believe that. you can tell that he needs a place to stretch his wings and be the best - somewhere he can be better than his brother.

and maybe you are really your mother's daughter - you let hoshina soshiro go because you thought it would make him happy.

"vice-captain, platoon leader said ye're needed at operations." you saluted and walked inside his office. "get yer ass in there, were the exact words actually," you added, intending it to be a joke.

soshiro didn't even look up from the file he had been staring at since you came in. he's been like this for days after you were sworn in the defense force. you would bump into him in the hallways of the training building or sit at the same table with him for lunch, and he wouldn't speak to you at all. if you didn't know better, you would think that finally, after all these years, he is now aware of your feelings. but that would be impossible, because not only the other recruits would not dare to rat you out, but also because soshiro would not be acting this way if he knew.

"v-vice captain?" you repeated.

soshiro hummed. "i heard ya the first time, officer," he said, his glance on you so cold you felt it from where you stood. it wiped off the smile you were wearing that morning.

"ya can go," he said once more after he noticed you didn't move. "or d'ya need anything else from me?"

"no, vice-captain." you were almost out of the door when you remembered something else. "one more thing, hoshina-san," you faced him again, the way you said his last name soft against your own lips. "soichiro-kun will be visiting again tomorrow so we can go to himeji together -"

"do ya belong to the sixth division?" soshiro cut you off. "i didn't know ya transferred."

"i - i'm not -" you were still trying to look for the appropriate response when he interrupted you again.

"then why are ya spending so much time with him? d'ya wanna move to his jurisdiction?" soshiro is standing now, whatever he was reading earlier long forgotten.

it was difficult to reconcile this distant man in front of you with the boy you used to chase after during your childhood days. the one who would bring you an extra boxed lunch because you told him before that his bento tastes so much better than yours. the boy you fell in love with. you had both grown up, and taken different paths at a time, yes, but you did not expect to struggle so badly to find common ground with him. "im sorry, vice-captain, i'll be off now." it felt like a huge chasm had opened in the middle of the room that determined to keep the two of you worlds apart. you turned to leave, and you heard him mutter something.

"if ya wanted to keep going on dates with my brother, ya shouldn't have gone here."

there is only one thing sharper than his katana and it is hoshina soshiro's mouth.

pain swirled inside you, threatening to spill over. when you couldn’t keep the turmoil in any longer, you snapped.

"what is yer problem?!" your pitch reached a high octave that soshiro was shocked at the outburst. "did i do anything? cause yer being mean, soshiro," you pressed on, stepping closer to him. it didn't escape him how you dropped the title off his name, and the honorifics, too. he was about to respond, but you didn't give him the chance. "look, i know yer not on good terms with soichiro-kun, but he’s my friend."

"like i needed to be reminded." sarcasm coated his retort. "ya know what? ya can marry the guy and i won't even care. do whatever ya want", he said, dismissing you in a harsher tone

your forehead scrunched and your eyebrows met in confusion. "what are ya talkin' about? no one is getting married -"

soshiro's laugh was bitter. you recoiled at the offensive sound. "i'm not the one going around telling everyone she's in love with soichiro-kun.”

there was a loud ringing in your ears; you couldn’t believe what you were hearing, and you were suddenly afraid that this conversation is unfolding into something else entirely. “i never said that,” you protested. “i never told anyone i was in love with him. i don’t know where you’re getting this from.”

soshiro’s expression remained stoic and unreadable. “i heard you say it at the izakaya”, he murmured.

breath was knocked out of your lungs and panic started to rise within you. “i never told anyone i was in love with him”, you repeated. you tried to rewind every second of what happened in the party thrown for the new officers nearly a month ago. everyone was drinking and having a good time after the sworn-in ceremony. commander ashiro and the vice-captain had to leave ahead. your fellow newbies grilling you on your history with hoshina soshiro.

��save it.” hurt was evident in soshiro’s voice; his eyes glimpsed at you briefly, and you saw an emotion you couldn’t quite decipher flicker. soshiro’s expressionless mask faltered for a moment, revealing a glimpse of vulnerability. although you don’t have a clue how he would have heard it when he went with commander ashiro that night, the desire to straighten things out overtook you.

for a split second, the burden of the truth hangs heavily on your tongue. you gave in to the desperation.

“i never told anyone i was in love with him”, you reiterated, hoping he would understand this time. “because it’s you i’m in love with.”

there were multiple occasions in the past where you almost admitted what he meant to you; you had pictured a thousand scenarios in your head where you declared your love, but all of them did not include the part where soshiro would respond.

you thought confessing would ease the ache in your heart, but it was the opposite. "i didn't know how to tell ya, and that's my fault. but how could i? ya didn't even bother to say goodbye to me when ya left home." it was taking everything of you to hold your tears back, and ignoring the obvious tremble in your voice, you continued. "did ya know i taught myself how to pray after ya were gone? i thought it was the only thing i could do for ya."

"i didn't know", was all soshiro could say. he looks in distress, still grappling with your bold confession.

a loud knock on the door broke the tension. “vice-captain, they made me fetch you,” okonogi said from the hall.

“well, now ya do.” you turned away just when soshiro strode towards your direction, running after you. you were faster than him, and despite the possibility that you would be seen coming from the vice-captain’s office crying, you twisted the doorknob and ran.

it is still hot when you sit down on a bench at the rooftop of the third division's training building.  you welcomed the cool breeze, however, and you noted that at this altitude, everything from far away looks considerably smaller.

you missed two important briefings this afternoon already, and your team is most certainly searching frantically for you everywhere. you are definitely going to be scolded by your superior. yet you couldn’t bring yourself to discard the little comfort being alone had given to you, especially after such an emotional confrontation. you sighed, exhaustion slowly crawling all over you. lost in your thoughts, you did not notice the soft footsteps approaching until a familiar voice tore through the silence. the cold breeze blew, making you shiver a bit.

“hey,” soshiro called out. you freaked out, immediately looking for a space to hide at. “i already saw ya,” he let you know.

he held out a keychain in front of your face, a tiny bear in a faded purple kimono with the string attached to its head dangling from his forefinger. you recognized it instantly - you got it for him when he turned 12 years old. he sat beside you, not concerning himself with asking for your permission.

“the first few days were the hardest”, he began, and you listened. “i was too used to seeing ya every day, but when we were apart, i convinced myself i would forget how ya look like. i didn’t.” he offered the keychain to you and you took it - the bear’s fur worn out and old to your touch. “i hold that thing whenever i start to miss ya.”

shock was etched on your face and your gaze darted to him. “is it too late now to say that i love ya?” he whispered, his face mirroring the sincerity of his tone. sunlight bathed the rooftop as soshiro’s words hung in the air, leaving you breathless and stunned. you gasped. “maybe i should have told ya sooner. but i have been in love with ya for a while now.”

you leaned into his shoulder, and you quietly cried.

“i don’t think i have been anybody’s first choice in anything, so it didn’t enter my mind that ya would probably feel the same.” his hand found yours and you relished on the warmth.

“your brother advised that i tell ya, ya know?” you said between sniffles.

he chuckled. “he didn’t do an excellent job at that, did he now?”

silence ensued; his thumb tracing patterns on the back of your hand, your head on his shoulder still - your breathing still a mess from everything that has been said. “i’m sorry i hurt ya. let me spend my whole life making it up to ya,” he proposed. the promise made your heart skip a beat.

for the first time in a long time, you gave him a smile - the one you have reserved just for him, the one you made sure to convey everything you wanted to tell him. there are a lot of other things you feel the need to ask him, but this will suffice for now. this is more than you ever had in your whole life.

“i can’t believe we wasted so much time dancing around our feelings. that one time i wanted to hit one of our classmates because he was being pushy with ya, d’ya remember that?” he reminisced. “anyone can have everything in the world, and the only time i would crack is if it is ya being taken away from me.”

all your dreams pale in comparison to your reality now.

out of the blue, you heard soshiro giggle. “does this mean ya were telling the newbies that night that it was me ye’re into?” he stared at you, and you can’t help but see him as the little boy you grew up with. this is the man i love, you said to yourself. you squeezed his hand.

you didn’t respond. all you know is the color of your cheeks surely rivals the pink of the skies as the both of you watch the sun sets.

[bunnylovesani]

You Belong To Me

Summary: You find out about your husband Spencer’s affair with another woman. It's safe to say you don’t have the reaction either of them were expecting.

Content warnings: infidelity, voyeurism, facetime sex, humiliation, p in v sex, creampie

WC: 2.3k

“Who is she?” You shudder with disgust as you stare into the sunken eyes of your husband. He looked almost unrecognisable to you now that you’d learned of his betrayal. 

“Her name’s Maeve. She’s a geneticist who’s been helping me with those headaches.” He sighs resolutely, knowing there was no point attempting to hide this from you. He didn’t mean to let things escalate but you’d been going through a rough patch and Maeve was just so understanding- she embodied all the things you lacked.

“Did you fuck her?” Your voice trembled with anger, goosebumps piercing through your thin blouse as you braced yourself for his response. 

“No. It was a purely emotional affair.” He stated a little too coldly. 

“Ah. And I suppose that makes it alright, does it?” You scoffed, getting up from the sofa you were curled up on with Spencer mere minutes earlier before he came out with his crushing confession. 

“Of course not. There are no excuses.” He looked down, not daring to meet your appalled gaze. “I-I’m sorry. I don’t know what to say.” 

“Spencer Reid speechless? I never thought I’d see the day.” You chuckle darkly, fidgeting with your wedding band. You loved him with all your heart, the day you said your vows was the happiest of your life- now that he’d broken his, you weren’t sure how much any of it really meant. 

“Were you going to leave me for her?” Against your best efforts, your voice broke with a pitiful crack that left Spencer with a pained expression on his handsome face. 

“No! No, I promise. I would never leave you.” He interjected, leaving no room for doubt. “She was just a distraction. You’re it for me.”

You sunk back into the plushy couch with a defeated sigh, unwelcome tears pricking your glossy eyes. 

“I don’t know, Spence…” You sniffled, beginning to slide the ring off your finger. 

“Baby.” He took your hands into his own as he dropped to his knees before you, still in his work suit. “I messed up. I messed up in the worst way possible. I’m a fucking idiot. But if you forgive me, I’ll spend the rest of my life making it up to you. Please, my love. I’ll do anything.” 

An unfamiliar desperation tinged his voice that made your gut twist into an iron knot. He looked pathetic right now; kneeling on the floor with furrowed eyebrows as he pleaded to save his marriage. 

“I want you to call her.” You exhaled sharply after an excruciating moment of contemplation.

“You- what?” His forehead wrinkles deepened with shock. 

“You heard me. Call the bitch.” He gulped at your request and his eyes darted around frantically as he analysed every possible outcome.

“A video call. I want to see what the little homewrecker looks like.” You spat as he remained motionless, mouth agape and eyes narrowed. “Unless you’d rather get a divorce?” 

“I’ll do it.” He shook his head clumsily, rattled by the whole ordeal. 

“Wonderful. Come sit next to me and prop your phone up on the table.” You patted the spot besides you as Spencer stumbled over, still confused by your unpredictability. 

“Well? What are you waiting for? Start dialling.” You snapped snarkily as he scrolled through his phone with shaky hands. Locating her contact, his fingers hovered above the call button. 

“Dr. Donovan, huh?” You peered over. “The one you told me had been helping you with a case?” 

“Y-yeah.” He whispered ashamedly. 

“Now this I have to see.” You murmured bitterly as the line began to ring. 

“Spence, hi! Wasn’t expecting you to call at this time.” The bubbly voice of the other woman rang out through his speakers. Your eyes zeroed in on the pixelated image of a brunette woman with a choppy fringe. 

“Why, do you guys have a set time for your little calls? When I’m sleeping, perhaps?” You popped into the frame, grinning wildly. 

“Oh. H-hello. Spencer, what’s going on?” She looked to him for help but he just sat there resignedly, knowing he couldn't appease you both. 

“So you’re the one who’s been helping herself to my husband.” You chuckled disingenously. “I thought you’d be a lot prettier.” You neared the phone to get a better look. “Really, baby? Her?” 

Spencer looked away, not daring to say a word to his wife or his lover.

“And you? You don’t have anything to say?” You opened the floor to Maeve.

“I-I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Her cheeks reddened as she stuttered, her nauseating voice ricocheting off the walls and worming its way into your ears. 

“That’s okay. I don’t need you to talk. Just watch.” You hissed in such a searing way that it made her feel threatened and inclined to obey. 

Spencer looked up at you in confusion but his doubts were swiftly answered when you loosened his tie and ripped off his collared shirt with a murderous lust. 

“Baby, what-“

“You’re not going to say a word.” You smoothly replied, voice barely audible. 

You observed his sad eyes, entrenched with light crows feet that worsened with the weight of stress and regret. You weren’t sure how you were even going to begin to process his betrayal but right now, you had to take care of her first. What better way to drive home the point that he was yours than to show her? 

Unbuckling his heavy leather belt with an urgency you’d never felt, you glanced over to make sure Maeve was watching. Sure enough, the demure woman couldn’t peel her eyes away from the sight unfolding before her. 

As you pulled down his pleated black trousers, you unbuttoned your blouse and pulled down your skirt, throwing the articles of clothing behind you in a rushed hurl. Trailing your fingers down his boxers with your engagement ring flashing in front of the camera, you settled on his waistband. 

“Now, Spence. You’re going to fuck me in front of her.” 

His breath hitched as the unholy words left your smirking mouth. 

“And you-” You turned to face Maeve, who’s hand engulfed her mouth in panic. “You are going to watch it all.“

“No! You’re insane-“

“Or I’ll tell everyone at your work that you’re a home wrecking whore.” You dropped the threat like a hammer and it instantly silenced her.

“That’s what I thought.” 

A twisted grin consumed your face as you looked back at Spencer, who licked his lips at the sight before him- his wife eagerly spread open on the couch, waiting to be filled up. You weren’t sure whether it was an anxious tick or a sign of arousal and frankly, you didn’t care. 

“Show me how sorry you are.” You breathed heavily as you hooked your black lace panties and pulled them to the side.

Needing no further initiative, Spencer lowered his boxers and let his heavy cock spring free from its confines. Despite sex being the last thing on his mind, he couldn’t help the natural reaction his body had to you- it didn’t matter how many times he’d seen it in the last 5 years of your marriage, the sight of you split open for him was always enough to bring him crumbling to his knees. 

Shuffling closer, he let a long string of spit dribble down to your pussy before smearing it around with his painfully swollen tip. He was in a state of delirium and shock as his body moved as though it weren't his own- whatever the consequences, he knew he couldn't lose you.

“You see that, Maeve?” You cocked your head to the side. “That’s all mine.” 

You moaned shakily as he pushed himself in, coating his shaft in your wetness. 

“Isn’t that right, baby? Tell her.” You ordered your husband as he grabbed the back of your thigh, pushing against it to go even deeper. 

“That’s right.” He groaned as he plunged his cock in as deep as it could go, his skin flush against yours. 

“Who do you belong to?” You gazed up at him, running your fingers through his messy curls. 

“You, baby. I belong to you.” He whispers before turning to face the camera. “I belong to her. She owns me.” 

Maeve let out a short huff of disbelief, wanting to look away but struggling. 

“Harder.” You choked out a whisper as your body trembled under his touch, longing for more, aching to possess and to be possessed. 

His thrusts sped up in response, his hips smacking against yours fervently as you clawed at his back like a wounded animal. 

“I’m sorry, baby.” He whined as he took you by the face with both hands, forcing you to look clearly at him. “I’m so sorry.” 

“Keep going.” You whispered frantically- the feeling of being perfectly stuffed paired with your volatile emotional state left you teetering on the edge of collapse. 

“She means nothing to me.” He grunted between thrusts and you bore a wide toothy grin at the capriciously sweet words. Real or not, you knew they had to hurt her- and that brought you a sadistic amount of pleasure. 

“What were you thinking going for her?” You tutted as he pounded into you like it was the last time, creamy arousal glistening in the dimly lit lounge. “I’m so much better than her. She’s so ugly. Isn’t she, Spence?” 

“Y-yes.” He whimpered. “She’s nowhere near as beautiful as you.” 

Satisfied enough with his taunting, you pushed him back with a bitter hand against his chest and climbed onto his lap with increasing desperation. 

“Bet you wish you could ride him like this, don’t you?” You sneered as you stroked his wet cock with a couple squelchy pumps. “But you never will. This dick is all mine.” 

You lowered yourself onto him, adjusting to his size with breathy moans as he threw his head back in deluge. Bouncing on it with more force than usual, you looked back to observe Maeve’s horrified face glowing on the screen. 

“You got that, bitch?” You jeered mockingly as you reached for his phone and flipped the camera to show Spencer’s exasperated face. “My husband, my dick.” 

With your final act of aggression, you hung up the call and threw the phone behind you. You were fairly confident she wouldn’t be inserting herself into your marriage again any time soon. 

“What the hell-” Spencer’s croaky voice rang out in intervals as you continued riding him with stomach-churning speed. “was that?”

“I was reminding you who you’re married to.” You halted for a moment to catch your breath. “You seem to have forgotten.”

His firm, calloused hands snaked their way around your hips as he dug his fingernails into your flesh, bringing you closer to him. 

“I'll never make that mistake again.” He declared solemnly, brushing the pad of his thumb against your cheek. “Do you forgive me, my love?”

Your limbs went numb and you felt paralysed at the thought. How could you ever forgive such an abuse of trust? 

Spencer firmly grabbed you by the jaw before trailing his hand to the nape of your neck. You wanted to wriggle out of his grasp but he guided your head to rest over his shoulder as he settled his touch on the small of your back. 

“I don’t know…” You slumped into him, feeling immobilised as you murmured mindlessly. 

He suddenly grabbed your ass and roughly spread it apart to allow easier access to your core- he thrust up into your weeping pussy with a force that had you huffing out wordless squeaks. He set a ruthless tempo, hammering into you as your gushing arousal dripped down his thighs. 

“If I’m going to let that little stunt you just pulled slide-“ He growled with a renewed ferocity. “then you’re going to suck it up and forgive me too.” 

Whining, you smacked the side of his bicep in protest but the way he was fucking your brains out left you unable to speak. 

“I don’t wanna hear it baby.” He kissed your temple sloppily as he patted your hair, smoothing it down while he massaged your insides. “You’re meant for me and I’m meant for you. We’re perfectly fucked up for each other.”

“Mmph-“ You moaned into his shoulder, drool dribbling down his skin as you bit into it. 

“I’m never letting you go.” He sped up as his force and aggression grew, leaving bruises in the shape of fingertips littered along your hips and ass. 

With one final thrust, you came undone - squeezing his cock so tight in the process that he couldn’t help but fill you up to the brim with his cum. You panted as you tried to catch your breath, creamy wetness pouring out of you as he pulled your sweaty bodies apart. 

“Okay.” You sighed. “I forgive you.” 

Spencer abruptly sat up as the precious words spilled from your swollen lips. “You mean it?” He trembled hopefully, melting expression tugging at your heartstrings. 

“Only if you swear to me it’ll never happen again.” You wagged your finger at him as he leapt onto you unexpectedly.

“Never! Never, baby, I swear.” He planted grateful kisses up and down your body as you indulged in a reluctant smile. “It’s only you. You are the only one for me. Now and for the rest of my life.” 

You could tell by his adoring gaze that he meant every word. Wrapping your arms around him, you settled into a healing embrace. He was allowed to make one mistake, you loved him enough to let it slide. And if resentment ever crept up on you, you could always fondly recall that drunken night with Agent Morgan. Who said married couples weren’t allowed a few secrets?

[ririsasy]

This scene in May December broke me because how innocent and pure Joe is, how he knows that's something wrong with his life, he's trapped but couldn't get out and he didn't want anything that happened to him to ever happen to his son. It's heartbreaking to see how young he still is.

I want to give all the award for Charles Melton portrayal of Joe, especially in this scene, when he curled up in his son’s embrace like he’s the one who’s younger than his own son because in a sense he’s, mentally he’s, that tremble in his hands as he tried to explain his thoughts, thinking that he would do something wrong to his son, gosh he’s too young to be a father, and Charles Melton just completely nailed this role with his whole mannerisms, that small broken voice when he whispered “that’s all I do”. he's helpless, he's anxious all the time, but he bottled up inside because he has no chance to open up.

The way they portrayed Joe's naivety like he's still a young 13 y.o boy trapped in time because the manipulation worked with a vulnerable boy like he was. They showed his youthful spirit still with his hobbies with the butterflies, his timid movement or the way Gracie bossed him around and he didn't even realize it, that he couldn't even be open and honest with his feeling or be validated about what he's feeling because Gracie would just spin those words around and make it look like he's the one who hurt her, twisting his words to her advantage, the abuse never actually end, even after the 24 years of marriage.

Gracie is a predator, an unapologetic manipulative woman that thinks she does nothing wrong because deep down she's just evil that way, the scene in a forest when she met a fox and she look eye to eye with that predator, I feel like she was looking at herself. The way she’s interacting with her children from the previous marriage, how cold a mother she was, she didn’t care much about anyone feeling. Or the way even her children with Joe didn’t like her that much, because they’re old enough to understand that their parents relationship is not normal at all, but they just couldn’t say anything about it because at the end of the day she is still their mother.

Also it was incredibly eerie at the contrast love letter that young Joe sent to Gracie, where it was just so innocent, no ulterior motive or whatsoever, he was just a kid, feeling safe and at peace around adult and expressing it that way to her, it wasn't wrong at all, not a sign that an adult should make a move at that! Then compare to the one that Gracie wrote to him, she understood completely the situation they're in, the way she asked him in the letter not to tell anyone about it, she's always been on the upper hand, she took advantage of Joe's vulnerability and used it to her own sick desire. It wasn't told explicitly in the movie but seriously everything just feel so nauseating to watch thinking how young he was.

Now Joe is older and you know nobody can safe him except himself, If he wanted to be saved or not, or if he'd accepted his life just as it's, he's just a victim but he told himself that he didn't want people to look at him like one. It's all in the adult hands that should be the ones who do better because they know better and put a stop to something that's morally wrong, it's the adult responsibility to give the understanding, but the problem is Gracie is not a good person at all or a misunderstood individual or anything, she did everything with full conscience and with no regret because she’s sick in the head.

Also Natalie Portman’s character, Elizabeth, what’s up with her? I feel like her interest for the project itself was so questionable, she looks like a predator herself at the end, was she having an affair with the director that wanted to produce the movie? The phone call she had with the director asking him about his wife was kinda sus, when she was looking at the tape for young joe character and asking for a sexier looking actor, 13 y.o boy? What’s up with that?? And that euphoric masturbation?? complete with a laugh she did at the shop where Joe and Gracie supposedly had their first sexual encounter together, it’s all so weird and not to mention she end up sleeping with Joe as well! She was taking advantage of him nonetheless, I know that Joe is older now and should be able to make his own decision but considering that Elizabeth’s intention was never actually genuine and lure him in, flirting with him at his workplace, it’s manipulative as hell.

The way Elizabeth keep trying to mimic Gracie’s every movements, I know it’s for the role, but everything that she does also kinda eerie in notion. Perhaps she and gracie wasn’t that much different? She just didn’t act on it? Or is she such a psychopath in away she wanted to experience all kind of peculiar side of human? Where she's just so detached on human feeling and only sees everything just as story? That’s why she wanted to be an actress because that was her motivation? Is she a case of an actor that took method acting in extreme? To the point she lose the way to connect with story in away that still has humanity in it because this is real people lives she’s adapting and not a fantasy. I really couldn’t read her true motives at the end. Perhaps there were two predators in the movie?

Over all May December is a really thought provoking film, it’s a movie I’d recommend to anyone who just love a kind of movie that makes you think about it long after you watch it. Julian Moore, Natalie Portman and Charles Melton act so brilliantly in their respective roles. I feel like Charles Melton might get his first oscar nomination for supporting actor for this role because how good he was in this. 9/10.

[noira-l]

Just the Two of Us

chapter summary: there is nothing like arguing with your pretend ‘husband’, right?

pairing: gojo satoru x f!sorcerer reader

wc: 2,9k

warnings: swearing, argument, adult life is kinda hard, higher-ups are fools, angst from Megumi, mature themes, slight mentioning of sexual activity, spoilers (manga, anime, movie).

author's note: well, we began here. I hope you like it, and I can write you more. I'm still experimenting with style, and genre, so please be understanding. You're welcome to leave some notes and comments to help me grow :3 I would appriciate it.

s.masterlist

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟏 '𝐄𝐧𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡 𝐢𝐬 𝐞𝐧𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡'

You used to love summer.

Beautiful weather, long bike rides through the unknown corners of Tokyo, trips to arcades with Suguru, the beach with Shoko and Utahime. Just the good old days.

Now you hate summer.

You feel like a curse has fallen on every summer, starting with the star plassma vessel incident. All the worst things that are supposed to happend, happen in the summer.

And this summer was no exception.

Tsumiki, whose condition no one was able to recognise.

Megumi, who, due to her sister's situation and the stress of his lack of fully mastered powers, made him even more grumpy than ever.

And Satoru.

Oh fuck Satoru

You've never seen him so pissed off, higher-ups have never been kind to you, you've always known that. You've seen it yourself many times. But now? Suddenly now they have a problem with Megumi attending Jujutsu High?

The number of your visits to them has increased dramatically, which has only contributed to constant bickering over really unimportant trifles or hiding grudges where there were none. Your home turned into a veritable minefield filled with anger and bitterness. And every day you wondered what you were going to step on this time.

You knew that if things didn't improve, all those wounds and worries would seep deep into each of you, and you didn't want that.

Even though your marriage only existed on paper, you genuinely genuinely cared for him. And he cared for you.

After Suguru left you didn't think anyone would be able to understand what you were feeling, Satoru proved you otherwise. You were both experiencing the same thing, it brought you together in a way, enough to open up between you and form an alliance of sorts that no matter what fate brought your way, you would deal with it together.

The foundations of a perfect marriage? You laughed under your breath. If this marriage was still made for purposes other than convenience in paperwork and ease of custody. You have never had a wedding, you don't even wear rings, you don't even act like a couple. You are both just good friends who grew up to become good parents. Always complementing each other. At least you tried.

The beginnings were difficult, that's a fact, you were both still young at the time, you didn't know how to do certain things, and raising 2 children was never part of the Jujutsu High education programme.

When you graduated, you both left school with broken hearts, old hurts and the hope that your dream of a better future for the young would become a reality. There was almost no talk of romantic feelings.

Almost.

On the day of your fifth wedding anniversary, out of boredom and slight compulsion, because you should at least celebrate the round anniversaries of your arrangement, you opened the sake that Nanamin had bought you for your first anniversary. As a conpensation for saving him from death on that day, which was technically supposed to be free for you. Both of you ended up on the couch, after drinking the entire bottle, fucking like the horny teenagers you still were somewhere deep inside. Satoru never had a strong head. Both of you, in the morning after a strong moral and general hangover, decided that it was better not to return to this situation and just forget about it. As far as this situation can be called a romantic feeling. Although you wouldn't call it that.

Satoru did not know the concept of personal space. And everyone who knew him was able to confirm this. Interestingly, you were the only one who was able to get close to his real personal space. Sleeping in the same bed with you for so many years, he had learned to reflexively switch off his infinity and cuddle with you in his sleep. At first the single bed was because you couldn't afford more than one, Satoru wasn't yet the head of the clan at the time and thus didn't have access to this sizeable fortune. Over time you just got used to it and the idea of sleeping separately seemed strange to you.

You caught yourself dreaming of a bed and his warm arms after another hard mission. You know he had the same thoughts coming really late at night, just to undress himself, and hug into you.

You both crawled into your routines. You've built what you dare to call 'home' on these foundations.

It was not perfect, the life of a jujutsu sorcerer was never strewn with roses or easy decisions but this 'home' was yours. You knew it along with him. And you were proud of what you had achieved together.

You didn't want all that had been built up with your hard work to be undone by one really hard summer. You didn't yet know how you were going to resolve the situation and how to talk to Satoru about it, but one thing you were sure of - you weren't going to give up.

There really is something wrong with this time of year, you sighed as you entered the flat you were renting.

"I'm back." you said rather loudly, you knew Megumi should be home at this hour. You went to the kitchen, put away the shopping nets you had made earlier and began to arrange the goods you had bought, leaving only what would serve for tonight's dinner. You took a small box of strawberry mochi out of the nets, you knew they had been going around Satoru's head lately. You placed them on the kitchen counter, adding a small heart sticker. For some strange reason, everyone in the household liked how you added those colourful stickers, even Megumi loved them, though he wouldn't admit it like Tsumiki did.

My little Tsumiki.

You were angry with yourself, unable to recognise what had actually happened to her and why it had happened so suddenly. You were angry that no one could recognise it. The amount of time you spent guessing, trying to recognise and the trial and error method, exceeded the numbers you knew. You tried, but it wasn't enough. You blamed yourself in advance for not defending her against it.

"What's for dinner today? I'm starving honestly~" you heard a voice behind you and turned around.

"Oh, Satoru, I wasn't expecting you so early. How was the mission?" you had already started preparing today's dinner. Satoru sat down at the kitchen island, not far from you.

"Can we not talk about this shit?" he sighed playing with some dark-haired boy's pencil.

oh…it's bad, isn't it?

"We can." you replied trying to think of something quick to talk to him about. "I bought you something." you pointed towards a small box. The white-haired man just glanced in that direction and a smile dawned on that face again.

"Aww~ Is that for me?" he reached for the casket with his long hand and opened the lid. "Did I mention you're the best wife in the world?" his giggle would be heard from down the street.

Of course Satoru loved sweets, especially the ones you bought him, because you always took care when choosing them, not buying just anything, but really what he liked.

"Sometimes you mention it to me." you said, throwing all the ingredients into the pans.

"I should to it more often then," he said with his mouth stuffed with one of the mochi. The sight of his satisfied face really filled you with small happiness.

"Where's Megumi?" you asked while stirring the contents of the pan.

The strongest merely sighed.

"I asked you to avoid difficult topics" his face was again filled with another mochi from the box.

You walked over to him and took the box from him.

"Why? You're so cruel, you know?" he merely asked pouting at the sight of you taking his joy.

"You'll get the rest of the packaging, after the meal." you stressed, and he continued to pout. You put the box back in the cupboard

"So, where's Megumi?" you asked a second time, pressing for him to answer you.

"You know how young people are today, they just leave without asking, without saying anything to anyone" now your sigh was overwhelming.

"You two had a fight, didn't you?"

"Ayay, I wouldn't call it a fight, more of a youthful rebellion on his part, you've been seeing this kind of behaviour more and more lately. You know, he's maturing. Aren't you proud?" you grabbed your temples where am I going to find him now?

"And how long ago he went to his…" you looked at him seriously "…'youthful rebellion'?"

Satoru glanced at his watch "Hmm…. Like 3 hours ago?" your eyes were the size of coins "But I'm not sure." he added in wonderment

You're going crazy here.

"And you allowed him to have these rebelions at this hour?" Satoru merely shrugged his shoulders. "I don't know what you mean, if he wants to go out then let him go out, he is capable of defending himself, after all he has unlocked to some extent his powers-"

"But not as much as we would like" you sighed "not as much as he would like." you vigorously stirred the contents of the pan, trying to pour all your anger into it so that it wouldn't accidentally be shown in words.

"You're being dramatic, it's only true to a certain extent. He has more potential than anyone else so far, I believe in him…. Which doesn't mean he's not a little weak right now." you froze, stopping the wooden spoon you used to turn things in the pan. Your own memories flowed into your head like water.

He had said something like that to you too. When you were still in high school, he could, like a complete asshole, ridicule you for hours and hours, about how you had no powers at all and were weak. You always ended up then in Suguru's arms, who was probably the only one who seemed to know what you were up against in those moments.

As it turned out, his derision found no cover in reality when one morning, after Suguru had left and after your arrangements had been made, you flashed the same eyes at him that he has, explaining to him why he could not use his techniques at that moment. The shock and disbelief that appeared on his face was payment enough, for the lack of apology on his part (for which you are still slightly angry) and for all the mockery you have bravely endured over the years.

You know what it's like to feel weak. You know what it's like when no one believes in you, when you yourself want to give up on yourself, trying to convince yourself that what everyone around you is saying is not true. You know how much hardship and effort goes into not just training, but convincing yourself that you are worth something. You don't want Megumi to ever experience the same sense of powerlessness that you had to endure. Especially not from the same person you had to endure it from.

"Did you tell him that?" you asked, glancing over your shoulder at him, trying to control yourself.

"What?" he asked still playing with the pencil in his hand.

"That he's weak." you must have said it really threateningly because Satoru's face immediately changed expression, you were able to see it right away despite his bandages.

"I didn't necessarily use those words." he said moving his gaze from your face to the pencil.

You took the frying pan off the fire and gave the pot of water in its place.

You sighed gathering in yourself not to do anything stupid today, although he really asked for it.

"You can't spill such words right and left. Not you in particular. " you said it as calmly as you could, turning towards him.

"I don't see the problem. I told the truth, besides I also stated the fact that he has potenc-"

"Of course everyone for you is weak, Gojo" he knew that when you addressed him by his last name, something was wrong or he fucked something up. "Which doesn't mean that everyone wants to hear about this fact. Do you realize what he's going through?" you asked the question into the ether, after a second adding "Well, yes, of course you don't, you've always been the strongest after all." The stupidity of your statement was killing you. You were able to understand his lack of competence in identifying with those weaker than himself, what you were not able to accept was how he was flaunting it.

"You are not weak." he said this while looking at you intensely.

"And after how long did you find that out? You oppressed me for years. It only changed when I showed you my technique." why do you sound disappointed?

Satoru would be lying if he said that his respect and view of you did not change after you showed him your powers.

"You know the higher-ups don't want to think about letting him go to school, and I don't understand why at this point in time you have to conclude that he is weak."

"Just not this topic, again~ We were already at such a family atmosphere." White-haired growled sighing, squirming in his chair

"What do you mean, I was the one who had to defend him from them again today-" you crossed your arms

"You talk as if I didn't do it myself yesterday" he growled, his voice rising "They keep sending me like an errand dog, on every fucked up mission they can think of, and I do it all without a moment's rest. Today I refused to meet with them, I'm shirking everything I can. I'm sick of listening to old idiots who care about rules that have long since ceased to apply. And! Of course the Zen'in clan has a problem with everything."

"As if your clan was so conciliatory.." you snarked with a wince.

"And what's that supposed to mean?" he indignantly replied.

"I met your mother today and she made it clear that she was 'expecting a grandchild' " you turned quickly to throw things into the pot of boiling water, you could see Satoru grabbing his head "She stated that 'it's my duty as your spouse', it's enough for her that she covered herself in shame when our secret wedding came to light. It surprises me that she is eager to make such statements, not being the head of the clan and still having a problem about what was almost eight years ago."

"Don't worry about it, I'll call her out." Satoru sighed. Despite the fact that you were standing with your back to him now, you could feel his gaze on you.

You needed a break. A break from the curses, the higher-ups, the arguments and the flurry of responsibilities. You knew Satoru needed one too. You stood there in thought, leaning against the countertop and looking at the pot with its boiling contents, when unexpectedly you felt a touch on your waist.

You looked up to see his silhouette pressed against your back. "I'm not the best at words or expressing feelings, as you've become familiar with more than once.." he laid his head on your shoulder "but I don't want you to feel like shit, these last few weeks are probably making you tired too."

Gojo was known for not respecting other people's personal space, this time he used it in a good way. You turned to him and snuggled into his warm torso. He held you in his arms for a few moments, stroking your hair and inhaling the scent of your perfume that he, himself had bought you for Christmas. He casually turned off the cooker, when he decided that what you had thrown into the pot, had cooked.

You didn't even know you needed it. His uniform completely smelled of him, despite the fact that you picked it up from the laundry literally yesterday.

It's funny how much his smell started to be associated with safety for you. Maybe it was because of that one mission where he held you the whole time in his arms when you almost died, or maybe it was just out of habit and years spent with him. You'd swear, you could fall asleep here and forget all your worries.

The sound of your burbling stomach snapped you out of this bliss. You looked at each other, you with an embarrassed face and he with an amused smile.

"It's going to be all right, we'll work something out, as always." he said, kissing you on the forehead. You didn't expect such a gesture from him. He guessed it from your face as he took his hands off your waist, moving away from you and putting his hands back, this time on your shoulders.

"Now let's eat something, you're not the only one who's starving." he said then turned on his heel and headed to his previously occupied seat.

"Find Megumi first, then you'll get your portion." you said and he snorted with laughter "Are you ordering me around?" that smile of his lead you to many things.

"No, I'm giving you a challenge, if you find him quickly your dinner won't get cold." you waved your spoon at him lightly.

His smile only deepened "I can take orders like that every day~" he said then immediately disappeared behind the wall, leaving you alone.

© noira-l 2024 | all rights reserved. do not copy, translate, modify, or redistirbute my work without permission.

[noceurous]

lights, camera, action

your boyfriend gets his hands on a handycam, later on you

warnings: mentions of divorce, mentions infidelity, Dave’s family is also mentioned, some self-doubt and angst, looots of feelings (sorry idk what took over me ehehe), swearing, smut: fingering (f receiving), oral (f receiving), p-in-v sex, slapping, daddy kink, usage of various nicknames (baby, darling, etc) minors dni (18+) reader is able bodied + has some length of hair + afab.

a/n: my birthday is officially on 10th of september, but this fic turned out to be longer than i expected, so i said post it with a fic you feel good.

a/n2: this fic takes place in the same universe with [take the heat away, make the girl stay] but they can be read separately.

Carol was a really nice woman after the divorce.

It was nice of her to call you a homewrecker, among many other names.

It was nice of her to fill Molly and Alice’s heads with wrong ideas about you.

It was nice of her to call Dave in the middle of your date and tell him that he’ll come back crawling back to her after he’s done with you. just like the girls before and made sure you heard it.

Lastly, it was nice for Carol to send all of his belongings to your tiny apartment. You didn’t even know how she got your address. Just after a simple ring of the doorbell, you were standing between piles of light brown boxes.

“Shit, did she really do that too?” Dave asked over the phone as you stood inside the labyrinth made of boxes.

“Yep, what’s left of your relationship is now inside my living room.” You said as you eyed over the boxes. Trying to find out if your relationship was enough to fill one box.

“They’re mostly clothes, family photos and Father’s Day gifts. There is nothing left of the relationship.” You were familiar with the last sentence. Dave used that to reassure you during the beginning of your relationship. 

He also used that sentence to girls, and Carol. When any one of them accused you of breaking them up.

“Yeah, probably. I’m gonna take a shower. When will you be back?”

“Fifteen minutes tops. Do you want anything?”

“No, just you.” His chest hurt when he heard how your voice cracked before you ended the phone call.

He hated Carol when she did that. Blaming you for everything went wrong in the marriage. Taking her anger out on you, when in truth you came into him long after he decided on a divorce.

—

“Darling? I’m home.” He didn’t hear your reply, but the water sound came from the bathroom.

He took off his long coat, his keys still in his hand when he walked towards the living room. Greeted with a pile of boxes. He couldn’t imagine how you felt when a box after a box came into your place. He would call Carol again, but he knew pretty well whatever he said to stop her, just would fuel Carol’s anger.

He raised his key, slashing and opening one right through the tape with it.

Fake plastic trophy of being the Best Dad Ever, broken hand painted coffee mugs, a photograph in a frame from Alice’s first soccer game. 

He went through some of the boxes more. As he assumed they were mostly clothes and stuff related to girls. Mainly photo albums which were half empty since Carol only sent him photos he was included. Nothing more.

When he was going over his last box, something silver at the corner of the box caught his eye. When he took it out, he was greeted with an old handycam.

“No way.” He smiled as he took it out. Shocked when he found out it was still charged.

He heard your footsteps when you came towards him, wrapped a towel around your body and another one around your head.

“What is that?” You walked towards him, the scent of your shower gel filling his nostrils.

Orchids.

“That’s my old handy-cam. Got stuck between stuff, still works.”

He explained as he checked if there were any pre saved videos. He remembered using it for Alice’s school plays and Molly’s soccer practice. Half remembering that he already saved them to Carol’s computer.

He pressed on the record button, when he saw the red blinking light he raised the camera to you.

“What are you doing!” You chuckled, covering your face.

“Recording my lovely girlfriend.”

“I’m in a towel.” He shrugged, still keeping the camera on you.

“That’s better.” He said as he zoomed on your legs, slowly lifting the camera to your body. “Don’t be shy. Camera loves you.”

“Is it the camera? Or is it my horny boyfriend?”

“Both. Give me something baby, come on.” You rolled your eyes, blew a kiss and winked at the camera.

“That’s better.” He said as he placed his hand on your towel, raising an eyebrow.

Before you could understand his next move, he tugged the towel down, watching it pool around your ankles.

“Dave!” You protested, hands covering your breasts.

“Don’t be shy honey. This is just for me. Show it to me.” You huffed, placing your hands at your waist. Sticking out your chest more as he pointed the camera at your breasts, recording every inch for you.

He licked his lips at your sight. “I’m a lucky bastard aren’t I?”

“Try the luckiest.”

He chuckled, motioning you to the couch. “Take a seat.” You rolled your eyes, swinging your ass as you walked towards the couch. You knew he was zooming in there.

He whistled, “That’s my girl” as he followed you. Sitting further from you on the coffee table. “Open your legs for me, come on.” The sight of your glistening pussy was on camera, Dave’s hand was slightly shook, blurring the view for a second. He tried to play it like he was affected less from the sight of you than he actually was. 

“Hmm, you’re wet baby.” You smirked at the camera, slowly nodding. “Who made you this wet?”

“You did.” You pressed your fingers on your lips, spreading them to show him your swollen clit covered in your silk. “See? It’s all for you.”

He felt his pants tighten, he didn’t even find the time to take off his tie since he got back. Now you were standing all naked for him, showing off your perfect body. And he had too much clothes on to feel you on his skin.

“Be a good girl, play with yourself for me. But don’t cum.” He said as he slowly placed the camera on the coffee table. Angling it to the perfect angle.

Your eyes were looking into his eyes, as he clicked his tongue pointing at the camera. “Eyes on the camera baby.” You swallowed down your whimper. Thumb pressed onto your clit, feeling your walls clench around nothing.

You pushed a finger inside you, moaning at your wetness. You closed your eyes, for a second, your other hand was on the cushion, grasping it tightly.

You started moving your finger, in and out, playing with your clit then back in. “Open your eyes.” You opened them, seeing Dave in front of you, behind the camera.

He was naked, his cock in his hand, slowly pumping himself. You could tell he was rock hard, it was painful for him not to touch you. “See what you’re doing to me?” You gulped, nodding quickly.

“Add another finger.” You did as he said, your toes curled, walls clenching around your fingers. You didn’t have to look down to know your juices were dripping down on your couch, making a mess.

You continued to finger yourself slowly, eyes locked on the red light on the camera. You could feel you were close to reaching your orgasm, trying to hold it as long as possible.

Your whimpers filled his ears, his eyes locked at the way your naked chest came up and down. Each second it became harder for him to not feel you on his skin. You were a sight for his sore eyes, all he carved for his life.

“Show me.” He said as he knelt between your legs. You took your fingers out of your pussy, the wet sound of it crying made both of you moan.

Your fingers were glistening with your juices, you took them inside your mouth, sucking off your juices.

His warm breath fanning your weeping pussy. He quickly hooked your legs on his shoulders. Diving into your pussy, drinking your juices right from your core. 

Your body trembled as his warm tongue touched you. Drawing long strokes with the tip of his tongue. “Oh Fuck!” You said as your hand went back to cushion. Supporting yourself as Dave continued to lick over your folds aggressively. 

He raised his face, his lips and chin covered with your juices. The corner of his lips raised into a smirk. “You taste so good.” He said before he dove back in. Sucking down your clit.

You smirked at the camera, hand going to your breast. “Fuck! Dave! You are so good!” You pinched down your swollen nipple. Pulling him closer to your core by pressing your ankles on his back.

He pushed a finger inside you, eyes pointed up to your blissed face. You were looking right at the camera just like he told you. His pretty girl always followed his orders without making him give them twice.

“Fuck!Fuck!Fuck!” You were chanting out as he was brutally fucking you with his finger. His lips on your thigh, kissing along the soft flesh, pressing his teeth on your inner thigh.

He pushed another finger inside. “Are you going to cum?” You looked down at him, eagerly nodding.

“May I? Please daddy, I’ve been so close.” He chuckled, curling his fingers inside you. Earning a loud moan from you. “Please.”

Who was he to deny you from pleasure?

“Cum for me.” He said as he sucked your clit once more, fingers still moving inside you. Your body shook when he brushed along your sweet spot. Pads of his fingers pressing on it just right. “Fu—“ Your body jolted backwards, your mind went blank as the white pleasure surrounded your body.

You were panting heavily, as he got up between your legs slowly, his hand wrapped around his cock. Fingers shining with your juices. Your mouth watered with the sight. You wanted him. You wanted more.

With the dark look in his eyes, you knew he wanted the same. “Get on the floor. On your hands and knees.”

You got in the position like he asked, shaking your ass a little when you got on your knees. He slapped you harshly causing you to fall on your hands. Your lips parted, showing him one of his favorite views; your ass in the air, your hole greedily waiting for him.

He pressed his tip on your entrance, “Look at the camera, don’t close your eyes, or I’ll stop.” You knew this was more of a statement than a threat. Before you could say something he gradually pushed himself inside of you, letting go of his breath when he reached your limit. His cock twitched inside you when your walls welcomed him inside.

“Oh.” You moaned at feeling full, still sore from his fingers. Your pussy greedily accepting him, already addict to the sweet pain.

He could see your glossy, lustful gaze thanks to the camera. Cursing himself for not thinking this sooner. Not thinking of saving these moments of you. Not starting saving anything he could save from you.

He placed his hands on your waist. Getting his momentum as his hips started slapping against your ass, not wasting any time with being gentle. Today was not one of his gentle, love making days. He needed you. He needed to take what was his.

He was not having a great time at work. Now he also had to handle Carol and stop her from attacking you.

He had to protect you and he had no objection to that. If it was allowed, he would tear up the limbs of anyone who dared to hurt you. It does not have to be physical abusive, just a simple word was enough to get him violent. There was nothing in this world that would stop him to protect you.

You were his purpose in life, his guiding light.

“Please.”

Your crying voice turned him back to reality, his eyes snapped back to the camera from your shaking ass. Your eyes teared from pleasure, thin layer of sweat covering your cheeks.

“Yes?”

“Please cum inside me. I missed feeling your cum inside. I’ve been empty for days.”

He had some stuff to take care of in Denmark. Unfortunately his little business trip took longer than he expected. So all you were able to do were some quick calls and exchanging text messages. Whispers of “I miss you” were exchanged as you bit your tongue not to say “I love you” too soon.

“Baby…” He said, getting faster than before, chasing his pleasure. You moaned, when he pushed in a bit too hard. Your hand stopped you from falling forward. Forehead almost hit the coffee table.

He cursed his ignorance, wrapping his arm around your neck, leaning over figure. He pressed his lips on your sweet spot behind your ear, feeling your body tremble between his arms. He nudged your temple with the tip of his nose, taking in your smell.

“I’ve got you.” He whispered, eyes locked with yours on the screen.

“You look so good, baby. I feel how you tighten around me, you want to cum again don’t you?”

“Yes, please.”

“You want me to make you?”

“Ye—yes...” His hand went to your clit from your waist, flicking it rapidly. “F—fuck! D—dave!”

“Go on, come all over my cock baby! Fuck you’re milking me so good.” He slapped your ass, grabbing a handful of the soft flesh before whispering to the shell of your ear. “You want me to cum inside don’t you? Fill you right to the brim?”

He groaned at how your walls tighten around him with your question. “Yes! Fuck yes! Please fill me up. I’ll do anything, please.” He sucked a bruise your neck, his hot breath from his nose fanning on your throat.

“If you really want to…” He said as he spurted out his cum inside you, pressing down on your swollen clit. Holding your body with his arm still wrapped around your neck as it trembled with your orgasm.

“Dave!” Your voice shook as you tried to keep yourself up. Feeling his hot cum spill inside you. He turned your head to the side, smashing his lips to yours. You moaned into the kiss, opening your mouth for his tongue to enter. Your salty taste on his tongue as he sucked yours.

Taking everything you offered to him.

He slowly took himself out, some of his cum spilled out from your hole. He tsked, gathering them with his fingers and pushing them back in. You hissed with the contact, looking over your shoulder to him.

“I’ll send someone tomorrow, to take care of the boxes. I don’t want you to worry about them.” You nodded, as he lied down next to you. Pulling your naked body to lie on his naked chest. You buried your head on his chest, kissing right above where his heart his.

You took the camera from the table, stopping the recording. You smiled at the video, thinking how better you looked than you guessed.

“Like a true temptress.” Dave said, as he buried his nose in your hair, his fingers drawing circles on your upper arm.

“Can I keep a copy as well?”

“Anything you want darling.” He said as he kissed you, slowly moving you to his lap between kisses. “Anything for you.”

—

The next morning Dave’s men came to collect the boxes. And Carol had an anonymous email in her inbox with no subject.

It was a small photo where Dave was eating you out. When she scrolled down, she saw your text added underneath.

Mine, back off.

Needless to say, the email disappeared a few minutes later it was read, without leaving any trace.

—

please provide comments/reblogs if you liked this fic. they always mean a lot 💙

[ilovehugslikealotalot]

This is Her Trying

sum: she sold out every value she holds dear, even a person. That happens to be you. So, one night after Voit’s little game, she speeds to your apartment in hopes you’ll still want her.

(is there a lot of music references? Yes.)

WARNING: BIG ANGSTY, smoking, some fluff?

Emily saw this coming, with the way everything was happening. The BAU hadn’t taken up a case they couldn’t solve, it just seems that now they’ve met their match. Emily didn’t want it to be true, no, she just couldn’t accept that. She was too prideful to give up.

That also meant doing everything in her power to solve this case, even if it meant pushing the boundaries of the law. She hated that she even considered doing it, so why do it at all? That was a question she asked herself often. Sometimes she sat in her chair wondering if Hotch would be disappointed in her. Or if he would tell her that she ‘needn’t worry’ even though she should.

In the midst of all this ‘Gold Star’ business happening, she was also pushing you away. Not noticing the hurt facial expression you made at her clearly not wanting your presence. She pushed you away so much that she had forgotten how much peace you’d bring her. Even Rossi had warned her to go home but she never did listen, she did what she thought was best. But sometimes she couldn’t think for herself.

—

“Shouldn’t you head home to see the Mrs?” Rossi asked, driving them back after Emily had gotten arrested. The truth was, she wanted to go home, she was just too scared that you too would be disappointed in her, and she’d rather not have the person she loved the most think ill of her. “She knows I’m out, it’s fine..” The silver-haired woman grumbled, picking at her thumb nail again. Someday she’d get over the whole thumb thing but now was not the time. All that she was focused on was Brian Garrity being on the top of her list to be killed off if she ever did spiral into madness; which she was already on the brink of.

Dave looked at her with this face, it was his ‘I know you better than you think, please don’t lie to me right now’ face. Emily huffed, groaning as she flopped her head into her hands. “It’s been almost a week and a half, Emily. A hello or hug would suffice” He tutted, even after all these years he still had to teach her fatherly advice.

“She’ll survive, Dave, she’s not going anywhere” Emily seethed, her emotions slightly breaking loose, the Italian took note of her behavior. As he pulled back into the parking lot, he stopped the engine, turning to look at her with a soft expression.

“If I’ve learned anything from my marriages is, never make them wait for you. Because the hardest feeling is choosing whether to wait or give up” He says, exiting the car first to let Emily think.

—

The Unit Chief sat on the rooftop again, the cigarette she was smoking, balanced between her fingers. She only smoked when she was really stressed, that seemed to be almost every day now. You had told her to stop smoking but, old habits die hard.

Ever since that call she had about being on restricted duty she felt like she was completely under the water, she couldn’t breathe. The feeling on being dragged down over and over again was starting to get to her. This definitely wasn’t her first rodeo but it was starting to feel like her last. She kept telling herself to keep pushing and they’d solve this but maybe, for once, they’ve gotten a case they won’t figure out.

The BAU was crumbling around them, the public was already trampling on the name. But if they didn’t figure this out, what was the point of anything? What was the point of all this work if she couldn’t even save herself?

How could she protect her team when her choices were the ones hurting them? She’d been dying inside since Bailey’s death. She couldn’t give up now, she had to figure this out so he didn’t die in vain. But she wanted to give up, it was so much easier to lay down and die.

This isn’t how she imagined she’d end up. A broken marriage, at least she thought so, a broken team, a broken case, everything was tumbling down and she didn’t have the energy to build them back up anymore. She always wondered how some people could die with so much happiness accepting that they didn’t do everything they wanted to. That was one of the qualities that made you fall for her.

She didn’t stop till she got what she wanted. That’s how you agreed to go on one date with her. She was insistent that she was the one for you. At first you didn’t want to, not wanting to be with someone so ambitious since it could end badly, later she showed you that you were the only one she wanted.

Letting out a shaking breath, Emily looked below, the who-ing of the owls seemed to be her only company that night. The stars were shining above her, she was jealous of them. How could they live so peacefully without worry. They were taunting her with their beauty.

Almost like the first time you and her met. She smiled at the memory, her time of youth escaped her but she never seemed to forget it.

~~

You were one of Garcia‘s friends, she met you during one of her baking lessons, and got to know you during one of her cooking lessons. You were skilled in both, your nimble fingers kneading the dough, your hands holding the sharp knife as you made precise cuts on the vegetables.

Emily could’ve never been prepared for the day you’d given Penelope a visit at work. She practically choked on her coffee the moment you walked in. You were stunning, your eyes soft like the morning rain, your face free from blemishes and impurities, even your hands looked extremely agile. Your presence alone cast an ethereal radiance around the room. “Hi, I’m Y/n Y/l/n, it’s nice to meet you…?”

Your brow arched, signaling her to introduce herself, Emily quickly stumbled to her feet with a goofy smile. She was enchanted by your shining grin. Internally, she was panicking so bad she couldn’t even think about what comes out of her mouth next, she was too busy staring at your tits.

“Prentits, Emily” she said a little too confidently, she slapped a hand over her mouth as Morgan barrel rolled on the floor in laughter. Rossi, JJ, and Penelope were snickering in the background. Hotch and Reid stood with shocked expressions, for once, Aaron had cracked a smile.

”I’m sorry! I meant Emily Prentiss, it’s nice to meet you as well” her voice got more silent with each word, the red hue over taking her face. You laughed, “it’s okay, Emily,” you leaned into her ear, “but next time just ask to look at them.”

~~

Emily snorted to herself, still looking into the dark nothingness below her. A soft chuckle escaped her, even the darkness seemed more peaceful than whatever she had going on. In those few minutes that she had stared into the oblivion, she realized, it wasn’t too late to fix things. At least with you anyway, she just hoped that you’d still want her after everything she had put you through.

The guilt of leaving you alone for so long clawed at her. As she now hurried down the halls, she thought of you. That smile that could make her melt, the laugh that could infect anybody, and those arms that held her close when no one understood her.

Even in the car, the first thing that played was your favorite song. She slammed her fist against the console, the pain was agonizing but that was the least of her problems. Her fingers gripped around the steering wheel so tightly her knuckles turned white and cramped. As she speeded home, she realized that she dearly missed your lips. Your soft, delicate, and loving lips. Even the first time the both of you had said you loved each other, she knew that you were gonna kiss her in a way that was gonna screw her up forever.

At the door of your shared house, she felt a sinking feeling in her chest, her hands turned clammy. It was like she was sent back to when she was ask you out on a date again. Except this time she was asking for your forgiveness.

She brought out her house keys, unlocked the door, and stepped in. The inside was still dimly lit so she knew you were awake, probably staying up late again. “Baby? I’m home!” Emily called out, shutting the door behind her, making sure to lock it before venturing deeper into the home. She heard shuffling from upstairs, it stopped for a moment before the sound of your footsteps made their way down. She was nervous, the smell of smoke on her clothes. It stood out from the scent of the rest of the house.

It smelt of you and your soft smelling vanilla perfume. You smiled seeing her, though the emotions in you remained conflicted. “Em, you’re home, I thought you were gonna be working late again” You chuckled lightly, nothing was funny. She messed up and you knew it, she knew it. So, why couldn’t you just go ahead and scream your feelings out. That’s what you wanted to do days ago, but not now that you see her face…you don’t feel so angry anymore.

“No, I needed to come home. I needed to see you, I’m-” Emily abruptly stopped her sentence to swallow the sound of her breaking voice, she never minded being emotional in front of you. Now, she couldn’t bear to cry in front of you. She felt she didn’t deserve to, you’re the victim here, after all. It was selfish to take that away from you. She was selfish. That’s all she had been for weeks now.

“I’m going insane, y/n. I don’t know what I’m doing anymore, I’m not alright.” She admitted it, she was scared and confused. She felt like some little kid in the corner after doing something bad and not knowing it was. She didn’t know how to cope with any of this. It was too big to do alone. She couldn’t ask you to help her, not when she’s already taken so much from you.

As Emily’s eyes began to sting, the tears pooling. Yet, she didn’t let them fall. She couldn’t, it wasn’t right. “You smell like smoke again, what happened this time?” You asked, brushing past her and walking into the kitchen. You fixed Emily a glass of cold water, “I messed up some case, I’m on restricted duty. The BAU is Dave’s now. I don’t know what I’m gonna do.” She said through a shaky sigh, leaning on the kitchen island, the marble cold to the touch. You were slightly shocked that she would actually tell you, most of the time she wouldn’t tell you anything. You understood that even knowing a little bit could endanger you both so you never pressed. “Have you eaten?”

Emily crossed her arms, sniffling and looking at her with a blank expression. You knew that look, she was trying to profile you. “Emily, if you’re trying to profile me, it’s not gonna work.” You said sternly, getting the ingredients out for beef and broccoli, one of her favorites.

“Okay, I’m sorry…” she replied, biting her lip. “No, I haven’t” she added after a moment of silence. You smiled to yourself, “Good, I haven’t had dinner yet”

The silence was oddly comfortable, it gave Emily a sense of false comfort. She watched you cook as she idly played with her fingers. You could’ve called it a night ages ago and gone to bed not talking to her at all. Instead, you chose to stay and make food. You always stayed silent when you were mad, you came from a home with screaming being the norm. You hated yelling at someone out of anger, you hated it with your heart and soul. Even now if someone yells at you in anger, the tears will pool and won’t stop streaming down your face. Your breathing turns shallow and the tightness in your chest the least of your concerns.

As you finished cooking the food, the steam drifted into the air, eventually filling up the whole kitchen. Both of you quickly ate the food, silently glancing at each ofher when the other ‘wasn’t’ looking. Emily didn’t know what to say, and you didn’t want to say anything.

The older woman went upstairs to change, and hopefully get a shower. It had been a few days since she’s had a good shower. One where she felt relaxed and fresh. You washed the dishes, humming to yourself as you thought about the situiation you were in. You wanted so badly to be angry with her but, there was something that kept you from feeling anything about what was happening. Your face would contort into an expression of anger but you didn’t feel it.

You completed the rest of the cleaning and headed upstairs, maybe you’d be able to get a good sleep tonight. You always slept best with Emily in bed with you, she just gave you a sense of comfort that no one else could give you.

Already in some pjs, you brushed your teeth and washed your face. With a heavy sigh, you pulled your body up to sit on the counter. You had grabbed your phone, scrolling on social media as you flossed with a floss pick. You heard the shower stop but you didn’t look up, too interested in a News article you read. It was an article about ‘Gold Star’. A case Emily was on, he was clearly dangerous and had already killed the spouse of one of his latest victims who was also a cop. That must’ve been why she’s been down at the office, at least, that’s what you heard from Pen.

“Damn it…” Emily muttered, pulling a silk robe over her thin pjs. Her hair was soaking wet, and her face free of makeup, she was looking for something. “Have you seen my towel?” She asked, looking at the rack then back inside the shower. You looked down and saw you were sitting on it, lifting a thigh, you grabbed it and handed it to her.

She smiled at you, drying her silver locks with the towel. Walking over to the sink, she began doing her skincare routine. You stared at her, a blank expression on your face, she looked so focused.

You felt the urge to reach out and touch her face when she finished, she looked like a supermodel in this light. I’m any light actually, she was a timeless beauty you couldn’t get enough of. That was when you felt it, the subtle shake of your hands, the sting of your eyes, the flips of your stomach, the drowning feeling, and the way you bit the inside of your cheek.

Emily looked at herself in the mirror before looking over at you with concern, your eyes filled with hurt. She hummed softly, placing a hand on yours, squeezing it as a way to ground you. “I love you, Emily Prentiss…so much that you piss me off,” You said with a hushed tone, as if you’d be scolded for speaking normally.

“I love you more, my precious girl” Emily kissed each of your knuckles, kissing up your arm as she moved to slip herself in between your legs. She eventually got up to kiss your lips, it was quick, a big dose of comfort, for Emily at least.

“Don’t say things that aren’t true…” You insisted, placing your hands on her shoulders, the robe damp from her wet hair. “You left me, for almost a whole week and a half with minimal to no contact, you didn’t even check in with me so I knew you were alive and breathing.”

Emily looked down in shame, she wished to take it all back. “I had to hold on to the hope that you were okay, and I had to get updates from the team, who you never seem to interact with anyway.” You sniffled, toying with her hair. “I know about this whole ‘Gold Star’ thing. The information went public, most of it anyway. So, please tell me what’s bothering you. Please…” You admitted, holding her face so she would look at you.

“Baby, Gold Star…he’s a dangerous man, after what happened with Don Bertoli” she paused, wiping her tears away, refusing to let them fall. She’s been doing that often now, you noticed since she was always comfortable crying around you. “I couldn’t handle you living in fear, I couldn’t handle us living in fear. A part of it was because I was so focused on this case, I hardly thought about anything else other than the case, and you. I know that sounds weird but, every decision I made was made because I thought I could protect you.” She kissed your palm, looking at you with the same adoration and love she had been for years, “If Don, this big muscular man, can’t stop him from killing his wife. How can I stop him?” She sobbed, hugging you close.

“Ever since this case even started, I changed so much. I hate it. I let a serial killer out of his cage to work among profilers like he meant something. I kept a secret from JJ that I shouldn’t have, I ruled over my team like a tyrant instead of working with them. I’m…turning into my mother, just like I thought I would. But the only question I have is…why haven’t you left me yet?” Emily sniffled, tears stains on your sleep attire. You pulled away from the hug and held her head, wiping away the tears with your thumbs.

She looked so fragile, like could crack of you touched her. You rarely saw her break, Emily was always the strong one even in the relationship. She took pride in opening jars, carrying bags, doing any sort of lifting. She also compartmentalized like her life depended on it because it kind of did.

”You are not going to be like your mother, you are my wonderful, amazing, ambitious, smart, hilarious, stunning, annoying wife. You’re my everything in one and I love you for it. I haven’t left you because I made a very important promise to be yours forever. I intend to keep that promise, no matter what. Also, last time I checked, you have the most awesome team. So, if you fess up and take responsibility, they’ll accept you. Remember that you have to earn that trust back but, I know you care.” Emily let out a choked sob, she loved you more than anything. What did she do to deserve you?

“When you were gone that long, I didn’t mind that much. Until you stopped texting me back, I didn’t hear from you for days. I panicked, thinking you were mad and I spiraled, every possible out come in my head played out beside for this” You said, tucking a piece of damp hair behind her ear.

“What I mean is, I’m not going to tell you that this was okay, what I am gonna tell you is that I love you despite what happened.” You pressed a gentle kiss on her forehead, she was hurting, you could tell from her face and mannerisms. You felt like you had spent a whole lifetime memorizing everything about her. Sometimes, it scared you. You knew things about her that even her team didn’t know, for you knew they’d never know.

With that, Emily burst into tears, hugging you tightly, pulling you as close to her as she could.

You’ve missed her dearly, nothing in existence or nonexistent could keep you from loving her. You feel every emotion at once yet none could rival the pure love you felt for the woman. She’s gone through hell & earth to have you. Now, you were ready to do the same for her.

She’s saved you from a maniac serial killer once, the least you could do was be here when you needed her. You knew she’d return the favor, you preferred to have her be alright before returning anything. After all, you taught middle schoolers for a living, you had your moments but thankfully there was never anything much.

“I’m sorry, so, so sorry” She sobbed, her head buried in between the crevice between your neck and shoulder. Her body slotted so perfectly with yours that you were convinced she was made for you. “I forgive you, always”

You felt her arms tighten around you, she sniffled looking up into your eyes. Pressing a kiss to your lips, she played with your hair, twirling it between her fingers.

She didn’t know what was waiting for her in the future, she was unsure of a lot of things. One thing was certain, that you were hers, and she was yours. She’d find a way to cross realities if it meant being with you.

As the night went on, both felt as though they could stay their forever. Intertwined. Sewn together. Forevermore.

—————

UHM. THIS WAS IN MY DRAFTS FOR A WHILE.

This is a nice appetizer for all the fics I’m about to serve to you guysssss. I hope you enjoyed restricted duty Emily :)

[lost-romantique]

The Way He Lit up His Life- Baby Stolitz Circus Edition (Part 1)

I love the way Blitz manages to light up Stolas' life, even when he never meant too.

Stolas starts off his birthday fucking elated. Of course he would, IT’S HIS MOTHERFUCKING BIRTHDAY!

"You will be entrusted with the study of the Earth's skies, the stars, the prophecies they hold, all that stuff. Isn't that fun!"

Stolas is given his life's mission as a Goetia, and he couldn't be happier!

This is best birthday ever! Absolutely what can go wrong!?

WHAT DO YOU MEAN I'M BEING FORCED IN AN ARRANGED MARRIAGE WITH A PSYCHO!

Stolas is forced into an arranged marriage with Stella, and he's devastated. He begins to cry.

His father who is so good at daddying, mind you, suggests they go to the circus in town.

Stolas does not want to go, he's miserable. His birthday is ruined.

Stolas is at the circus now, he has to have a fun time at the circus... right? RIGHT?

Despite all the cool shit that's happening before him, Stolas is miserable. He doesn't even bother looking at the performances.

He even flicks away the peanuts off his grimoire.

This baby birb is fucking miserable.

Absolutely nothing can make this day go better...

Suddenly, he sees HIM.

The boy wonder, the man who will become the poster child for severe self-hatred, BLITZO BUCKZO!!!

But Stolas doesn't see that...

All he sees is a little imp boy with the biggest smile on his face. Stolas is smitten.

Could this be what they call love at first sight? Who knows...

All Stolas knows is that absolutely nothing has caught his attention, OTHER THAN HIM!

The moment Blitz lands on stage, Stolas does a double-take. HE DOES A MOTHERFUCKING DOUBLE TAKE!

Whenever Blitz is on stage is the only time Stolas truly enjoys his time at the circus. All of his focus is on that little imp boy who can't make a fucking horse balloon to save his life.

"Well, heh. It was a horse, but then it ate too much sugar and its legs stopped working, so he had to amputate. Now, it's a gross worm horse."

Blitzo makes a stupid joke no one laughs at, but Stolas... this baby birb finds it fucking hilarious. He's charmed.

Blitzo sees that and he acknowledges his existence, almost instantly. He sees the only boy that would laugh at his stupid joke.

Suddenly Fizz comes in, makes a perfect horse in record time, and everyone laughs at his joke instead. Thereby stealing whatever thunder Blitzo had.

But you know the funny thing... Stolas doesn't laugh at Fizz's joke. Actually he's almost offended that everyone completely ignored Blitzo's joke.

"I liked his broken horse joke, it was funny. Their legs do stop working when they eat too much sugar, it's called laminitis."

Paimon looks at Stolas curiously, giving his son the eye as Stolas proceeds to laugh to himself because Blitzo's joke is that funny!

The scene ends with a closeup shot of a smiling Blitzo.

~~~

I find it adorable just how quickly Stolas' boredom changes the moment he sees Blitz on stage.

Stolas was just given the life changing news that he was going to be forced into an arranged marriage, and he's miserable. He doesn't want to go to the circus. Only for all that change the moment he sees Blitzo.

It's so cute just how smitten he is, how enchanted Stolas gets when he sees Blitzo on stage. How the worse day of his life turned into one of the best all because he sees him.

Please watch out for my future posts as I analyze all the Stolitz scenes in The Circus.

[princess-ibri]

Darkside Disney: Anna and Elsa

The Darkside tale of these two sisters begins when Anna, with so many years of confusion and hurt, decides to take Elsa up on her hurdled order of “then leave”

She turns on her heel then and there, never reaching out for Elsa, never causing Elsa to unleash her powers. She decides that if Elsa wants to close a door between them, she’ll finally stop knocking.

Anna leaves with Hans back to the Southern Isles that night

They're married onboard the ship, and Hans spends the honeymoon and proceeding three years of marriage carefully stoking Anna smoldering hurt into a true fire of resentment

By the time word comes from Southern Isles spies that the Queen of Arendelle has begun to show signs of madness, Anna is more than ready to step up and take the throne. She might have been content to stay in the Southern Isles before, but as her husband points out, Elsa is unfit, Elsa never engages with her people, they’d be much better under someone who actually cares about Arendelle. After all, with Elsa unwed Anna is the next heir, she’s the one who’ll be carrying on the bloodline. Don’t the people of Arendelle deserve security, attention, love? Doesn’t she deserve all that as well?

The people of Arendelle would indeed welcome their exiled princess as their new queen, but things aren't that simple…

After Anna left, Elsa tried to do her best to run the kingdom, to make the memory of her parents proud. But her powers continue to grow stronger, and stronger. The stresses of rule begin to take their toll, and she’s only able to keep her powers hidden by once more withdrawing from the public eye.

When she was still under age, this could be overlooked as the Regency Council trying to protect the royal heirs, but now her reluctance to engage with her people begins to rankle and sour the populace’s opinion of their new queen

And things only get worse when, in the third year of her reign, on top of her growing powers, Elsa begins to hear things…

A voice, calling to her, begging her to just let go, to unleash her powers and step into the unknown

And the harder she fights to conceal her powers, the stronger they—and the voice—become

The strain begins to be too much, the cracks in Elsa’s frozen facade begin to show, and whispers grow of a madness plaguing the Queen

And finally, the day comes that brings the sisters face to face again. Anna demanding that Elsa step down, she has the people’s support, she has the support of Han’s navy connections. She has more right the throne then Elsa has, Elsa who never cared for the people, who never cared for anyone.

“Anna that’s not true! I care—“

“You never cared! You shut me out, you shut the world out! You left me to bury our parents alone! So don’t stand there and claim to care now Elsa! Life’s too short to waste on hearing excuses from someone as cold hearted as you!”

It’s all too much. Her powers, the voices, the hatred in her sister’s eyes. Something in Elsa’s mind—in her heart—breaks. All her life she’s tried not too feel, and now she can’t stop feeling. All the heartache, confusion, anger, loneliness, fear

It all comes crashing out, a dam bursting over, a storm long healed at bay now barreling down in full force

Elsa flees in the cover of the onslaught of snow and ice, barely aware of what she’s doing, just knowing she can’t bear to see Anna, her only family, looking at her like that. All she seems to know how to do is run, and run, and run. Away from the voices, away from the pressure, away from Anna

She doesn’t realize she’s trapped Arendelle in an eternal winter, one that begins to spread out across the land, barely held back by the sea

She doesn’t realize the initial blast has killed the man her sister loved

Anna takes the throne of a kingdom in turmoil as a widow, her own heart broken, bleeding, freezing over under the weight of all that she has lost. The only thing keeping her going is trying to save her people—and the child she carries

The storm over Arendelle never breaks though, and the entire kingdom is forced to flee wherever they or face becoming another frozen statue in the growing wasteland, where nothing walks but the wailing form of their former Queen.

A figure with skin covered in frost, hair whipped about in the perpetual storm, tears frozen to her cheeks. Forever trying to run from the voices calling calling calling to her

Anna returns to the Southern Isles in disgrace, her kingdom and husband lost, her in-laws having no interest in harboring her now she has nothing to offer them. So they send her and her child—so sickly, so frail, never having overcome the cold they were born into—off to the farthest and poorest of their Isles. And there, her heart becomes as frozen as if her sister really had struck it all those years ago…

DisneyVerse After Credits under the Cut

One year later, Anna finds herself approached by a strange wandering soldier, who offers her the power to regain her kingdom, to give her child the life they deserve, to gain vengeance on the one who caused all of this…if she’s willing to make a deal

[ienjoywritingfilth]

love me more part ii

hi: you know i write filth. you can't be surprised by the depravity of this.

pairing: dbf!Joel x fem!reader part one here

trope: Mom's Boyfriend! Javier Pena

summary: After some great news you're in the best mood when your Mom's boyfriend Javier comes over. What's the harm in a little fun with him while she's not there?

warnings: public-ish sex (not sure how to define???), age gap, sexual tension, forbidden rel, absolutely filthy talk, daddy kink, oral (m receiving), swallowing, dub-conish, dark!JavierPena, almost caught, other shit but I've probs forgotten.

word count: 2.5k

rating 18+

wanna see my other stuff?

love me more part ii

Moving out wasn't going as quickly as you'd hoped. Rent on an apartment to call your own was exorbitant and your meagre savings weren't doing much to help. 

Harper offered to let you stay at hers but the random men she brought home to her bed made you feel decidedly weirded out. You couldn't imagine actually feeling at ease in a home where you didn't know the person sitting next to you over cereal in the morning.

Five months had gone by since that night of fucking with Javier. Calling him faddy and seeing him get worked up. Five months since you heard him fucking your mother's brains out as he spoke filth about you, knowing you would fear. Five months since you made yourself come to the memory. 

Well, actually, that's never really stopped. It's your favourite spank bank memory lately. 

And you told yourself you'd quit the whole seduction act with Javier, except it was really hard because he was around more often. There in the kitchen when you went to grab coffee. There on the couch with his legs spread wide, a bottle of beer held casually between them as he stroked your mother’s hair. He was there in the mid afternoon when you came back from shopping with Harper dressed in tight jeans and t-shirt as he repaired the broken fridge. And he was there in her bedroom, fucking her brains out night after night.

As he should be, he was your mom's boyfriend for fucks sake.

Until he wasn't. 

You came home from a weekend away with Harper to find moving boxes in the apartment and a wedding ring on your mother's fourth finger. 

"We got married," your mother announced with a girlish giggle as you walked into the kitchen. Javier was at work and your mother was already three beers in. You goggled at the shiny emerald, shocked at the class of the design.

"When?"

"Javier has friends in Texas. We went for a little getaway to visit them and we passed this sweet little chapel and Javier's cousin is a priest and one thing led to another..." 

She gave another girlish trill, practically floating around the kitchen.

"Why would you get married?” you choked out, still disbelieving. “You barely know him."

"We've been together seven months," she pouted. "Why aren't you happy for me?"

"I am happy, mom. I'm just surprised." 

-----

And now you sit in your bed watching a movie on your phone on a Thursday night, still confused as to how you ended up here with your hands stuffed down the front of your pyjama pants as you imagine your new stepfather fucking you in your bed. 

He and your mother are on their date night. Dinner and a movie. It's almost endearing if it wasn't also pathetically predictable. Like they bought into this whole white picket fence suburban dream despite the fact that they share a shitty apartment with you and your mom is shitfaced most nights. 

Ever since the marriage you’ve tried to stay away from Javier for the most part, you'll say a polite good morning or good evening when you see him. You share the occasional meal with your mother and him, you even make extra coffee on the mornings that you start really early knowing that he'll want a cup as well. And he's equally polite to you, his eyes never straying from your face, his hands never coming anywhere near your body. 

And it's driving you insane. 

You hate how cordial you are to one another, you hate that you still think about his body and his voice and his eyes when you touch yourself at night. You hate that sometimes when he and your mother are really loud you press your ear to the wall and hopes of hearing snatches of his deep baritone groaning. 

You're sick. 

Your phone beeps. 

I'm coming to pick u up. 

It's late. 

Bitch you need a life. You been working too hard

Harper is one of the lucky ones who get everything paid with her dad's credit card. You've had to work for everything you've ever had, coming from a poor background, being brought up with no father, you've had to overcome things at Harper can never even dream of. 

I'll see you in thirty. 

Harper doesn't bother replying to you and it's probably because she already has her tongue down some guy’s throat. She has a real affinity for guys that treat her like shit. 

Despite needing to leave shortly you can't help but be drawn back to your bed. Your hand finds itself strumming your pussy once more to thoughts of the one man you shouldn't. When you orgasm his name bleeds from your lips before you throw yourself into the shower. 

You dress in your best slutty club wear, applying deep red lipstick and calling an Uber. 

-------

You arrive home hours later a little buzzed and more than a little horny. The guys at the club didn't do it for you. None of them have what you want, none of them are forbidden. You danced with them, let them kiss your neck, let them grind their hard cocks against your ass while you danced, but that was it.

You stumble through the front door after attempting the lock three times. The TV is glowing quietly. 

Your mom is lying snuggled on the far end of the L-shaped couch with her face to the wall. She's snoring loudly, a sure sign that she's had too much to drink.

Javier is in the same spot he usually picks: the opposite end of the couch. He's watching some bullshit 80's action flick on the TV, empty beer cans littering the coffee table. You can tell from the brand that they were all your mothers. When you count up to eight cans you can only sigh exasperatedly. 

Javier hears you enter the room, glancing over his shoulder to watch you stumble towards him. He’s got a cigarette smoldering next to him in the ashtray on the side table. It billows seductively.

"Hey. Didn't know you were still up."

"Yeah." 

Javier nods before going back to the film. You glance to see your mom still snoring, deep in sleep. She's hard to wake up on these nights, one where she drinks herself into a stupor. You trip into the kitchen, pouring a glass of water and drinking it quickly before pouring another. 

Javier's ignoring you resolutely and it makes you want to break him. You want to see that wild look in his eyes from so many months ago. The way he shuddered when you called him daddy.

You take another gulp of water before an idea comes to you. You tilt over the sink dribbling cold water down the front of your thin shirt. Without a bra the buds of your nipples jut beautifully through the fabric. 

You saunter out to the TV room, the glass of water forgotten. You walk up to the TV, pretending to be engrossed.

“Watcha watching?”

You stand to the side, aware that Javier can see everything. 

“A boring movie.”

You hold in a smirk when you turn to face him, your wet t-shirt clinging to you. The water makes the fabric stick to the curves, showcasing the round pert of your tits. 

Javier doesn't look amused. He looks positively steaming when you turn, walking to the back of the couch. You stand behind him, looking down at the top of his head, the tousled hair, the wide shoulders. He continues to ignore you, fingers twitching at his sides. 

You don't know why but you're desperate to touch him tonight. Your fingers slide up his neck, coming to wrap in the loose curl at the base of his skull and tugging. 

"You have such nice hair," you murmur huskily. "So thick." 

------

Javier knows you're fucking with him.

Even as the goosebumps rise on his skin at the sensation of your fingers gripping his hair, even as your fingernails trace down his neck as you slowly pull your hand off of him. 

He knows that you've been playing this game for weeks. Every time you brush up against him unnecessarily when you grab your coffee in the morning. Every time you stretch and show him that thin band of flesh between your shirt and pants. It's just enough to tease without being obvious. 

And he knows why you just showed him his own personal wet t-shirt contest. You think you're powerful, you think you have him where you want.

Silly girl. 

He knows that even him ignoring you is fun to you, to see who will fold first. He knows you want him to fold. This is your game. 

But tonight it ends. 

-------

You smirk to yourself when you see Javier shift under your touch. You move around to the front of him and now his dark eyes move up your body, lingering over your breasts before forcing themselves to your face. 

You tilt forward, your knees touching his. Your chest sways enticingly before him while your hands go to his shoulders. He tenses under you, his eyes wide and pupils overtaking the iris. You move your mouth towards him and he leans forward, confused when you move past his mouth to his ear. 

"Have a good sleep, daddy," you whisper, your lower lip catching his earlobe. Javier shudders. 

But you pull back sharply when your mom snorts. You and Javier watch her shifting slightly before she falls back into a deep slumber. 

That was close. 

You almost jump when Javier's hand darts out and grabs your wrist. In one fluid motion he covers your mouth as well, tugging you onto his lap. You collapse over him, your legs are spread, your crotch against his. He's hard. 

"You wanna act like a whore?" Javier murmurs against your temple. "Then I'm gonna treat you like one." 

He pushes you off of his lap before forcing you to your knees between his parting legs. He darts his dark eyes over to your mom's sleeping form, her snores still heavy. 

He wouldn’t.

You watch mute as he unzips his jeans, his eyes on you the entire time. He doesn't even hesitate to pull his hard cock from its confines. It's angry red, jutting out like some beacon and the tip glistens.

You continue to kneel there, your eyes flying from the weeping head of his cock back to his face and then back again. One large hand grasps you by the back of the neck. You gasp when he holds the base of his cock with the other, tapping the head against your shocked lower lip. 

"C'mon now, bonita," he whispers huskily when you don't act. "I know a slut like you isn't afraid of a cock." 

Offended you tense, trying to pull out of his grasp.

"I’m not go-"

"I'm not asking," Javier says and the amusement has fled from his features. "I'm telling." 

You swallow, feeling your nipples tighten and your cunt clench even though you know what he’s doing is wrong.

"I'll wake up my mom," you whisper weakly.  

An oily smirk settles across his handsome features. He drags his cock along your lips and you can taste his salty pre-cum when your tongue darts over it almost immediately. 

"I'll deny it. I'll tell her about all your little games. She'll see your tits on display and I'll tell you you've been hitting on me since we started dating."

The worst part is you know she'll believe him, her wonderful new husband. Javier surprises you when he takes your hand and curls it around his aching cock. You surprise yourself by allowing it. He captures your eyes with his again.  

"Do what you've been promising me for months." 

"I haven't promised you anything," you whisper with a tremble. 

Javier leans forward, his eyes burning as his face stops inches from yours. His voice was already quiet and raspy, but now it seems like it's scraping the floor. 

"Yes you have. Every time you called me daddy, every lingering touch, every longing look promised me everything, you little slut," he muses. "And you know it." 

You watch in shock as he begins to thrust his cock between your fingers.  He does it slowly at first, letting himself get used to the warmth of your palm and the shock present on your features. But you don’t stroke him, you don’t do anything but watch.

"Didn't grow up with a daddy so you don't have any manners," Javier whispers. He leans back, his fingers holding yours against his throbbing cock as he continues. "Guess I gotta teach you." 

He strokes himself with your shocked fingers, casting a smarmy smile in your direction. You watch mesmerized as the pre-cum coats the meat of your palm, allowing him to glide unencumbered. 

“That’s a good girl,” he murmurs. “Think you can handle it on your own?”

You don’t reply, but you do stroke him as he thrusts. His hands go to the back of the couch, one hand reaching into the ashtray at his elbow. He plucks his smoldering cigarette from it, popping it between his pillowy lips and inhaling slowly.

Your palm twists, jerking him and tugging. He grunts softly, his gaze slipping over to you sleeping mother before going to your breasts which sway as your arm pumps. He feels such a thrill at doing this. At fucking your hand while his wife sleeps only a few feet away, likely to turn over at any moment. It makes him harder.

He blows the smoke into your face, amused at the wrinkle of your nose when he does.

"Get them out," he orders, his voice still a husky murmur.

You shake your head, knowing what he's after. 

"No."

"Cut the shit and get your tits out."

You frown deeply before lifting the hem of your shirt. Then realizing you don't want to be on more display then necessary you change course, bringing your shirt down low enough for your breasts to spring free. 

Javier makes a soft purring noise, like some horny jungle cat.  He pops the cigarette back into his mouth . He palms them both, marveling at how good they look, how soft they are before taking another deep drag from his smoke. He again blows it in your direction before speaking around it.

"Need that little whore mouth now.”

There’s a small voice that warns you there’s no coming back from this. That reminds you that Javier Pena is your mom’s husband. And yet he doesn’t even need to touch you and urge you forward, because you’re already shifting forward.

Your mother could turn around at any second and see you on your knees between his legs, hands in your lap and your head moving towards his throbbing cock. It's pathetic how easily your jaw is dropping open for him, urging his fat cock between the lips of your mouth, tasting every ridge.  

What else would she see? The almost eager gleam in your eyes as soon as he moves over your tongue? The way your toes curl as he groans softly, his wide fingers tangling in your hair?

Would she notice now your eyes roll back not in pain but in ecstasy as he plunges himself deeper and deeper until he's fucking your throat? 

Gotta keep quiet. Gotta keep quiet. 

Would she be in shock to see her new husband fucking her daughter's mouth? Javier, sat back relaxed and forcing her head to bob up and down for him? Would she even notice the way her daughter slips one hand beneath her skirt and begins to rub her clit in time with Javier's thrusts? 

"Faster," he pants quietly above you, slipping his slobbery cock between your lips over and over. He's enjoying the sight of you there on your knees, needy and desperate with your head snapping as he fucks your face. 

Gotta keep quiet. Gotta keep quiet. 

All you can smell is him, all you can taste is him, all you can feel is him. Thick and ridged as he coats himself in your saliva, forcing your jaw to drop as he feeds you more of him. You hear the way he works to muffle his grunts. You could be caught at any second. 

Your eyes are smudged with mascara and you're drooling around his cock. He continues to hold his fist around your hair, fucking his cock deeper into your throat. 

"A little whore like her mama," Javier purrs softly with what could sound like affection. "You swallow like her too?"

Your eyes roll back into your head at the degradation, your fingers stuttering around your clit until the explosion of pleasure hits you. It makes you tense and release, a fluttering between your thighs making you thrash as he continues to thrust into your mouth. 

Gotta keep quiet. 

You swallow you moan, shuddering violently as you continue to hollow your cheeks and take him. At the sight Javier feels his balls tighten and without warning he floods your mouth with his warm spend.

"Swallow daddy's cum," he manages to grind out, hips rolling as he explodes into your waiting throat. "Swallow it down like the good little whore you are." 

You are a good little whore. His good little whore, wet and needy for him. You hold in a moan, feeling the warmth coat your tongue as you swallow him down, neck bobbing as Javier strokes your collar. 

Gotta keep quiet. Gotta keep quiet. 

Javier is breathing rapidly, his hair in his eyes as he stares at you. His cock is slick with your saliva and even watching it softening you are shocked at how much you want it back in your mouth. 

He notices your hypnosis and he smirks before tapping your cheek gently with two fingers.  

"Show me."

You tilt your face back and show him your clean mouth, eyes still wet and your pussy throbbing. 

"Tongue."

Your tongue slides out, flipping to show him you weren't lying. Javier smirks, nodding at the fucked out expression on your face. 

"Daddy's good girl." 

Your mother suddenly snorts, half wheezing and shifting in her sleep. The sound terrifies you both. Javier tucks himself back into his jeans as you pull up your shirt and scamper off to your bedroom. 

[kimjun]

Package | Bat family x reader

You never stopped to think about being a mother, you are young and it was too early to think. Well, until you meet Bruce Wayne. You met him by accident, really an accident, you ran him over with your bike and then you went out to get to know each other better.

After many meetings, the marriage proposal finally arrived. As said above, you didn't think about being a mother. But marrying Bruce Wayne came with a package.

The first package was Dick.

He was adorable, he was always around you, he bragged to everyone that he had an incredibly beautiful mother. Mom, it was a surprise when you heard that word addressed to you.

It was a Friday, you went to pick Dick up from school because Alfred was on vacation, so you went to Dick's school. You were at the gate waiting, while sending some messages to friends and Bruce, little Dick approaches along with three boys.

—I told you she was beautiful. - Dick points at you, then crosses his arms.

—Wow.- one of the boys says.

—Stop drooling over my mother. –Dick speaks naturally as he gets into the car.

On the other hand, you become paralyzed trying to absorb the new information. When you finally get in the car, Dick hands you a drawing, it's him, you and Bruce.

—You can throw it away if you want. - Dick says, putting on his belt.

You've had this drawing saved for over fifteen years. A memory of the first time you became a mother.

—It's very beautiful, my love, thank you very much.

—Is it okay if I call you mom?

—You are my son, obviously you should call me mother.

Dick is a mama's boy, even at twenty-two he still runs into her arms.

The second package was Jason.

You were already in your pajamas, the calm rain turned into a storm and Bruce was already on his way back. You just didn't expect Bruce Wayne to show up with a boy cowering from the cold.

—Honey.- Bruce looked completely embarrassed. —This is Jason.

The boy looked at you, his beautiful eyes made you sigh with love for your newest baby.

-I am __.

It was a complicated relationship at first, in fact Jason only let you get close to him. He spent time with you at the library, you created a book club that was just the two of you.

It was a trusting relationship, when Jason had nightmares you would always be with him.

—It's okay, love, I'm here.

Jason started calling you mom because Dick did that.

—Are you my mother too? - Jason asked with his mouth covered in chocolate.

—Of course, right, - replies Dick. — If you're my brother, idiot.

He starts calling you mom. And you love the fact that you have two boys. Jason is also a mama's boy. When you learned of Jason's death the world stopped, you fell into a deep depression that you had to hide because Bruce Wayne brought a surprise.

The third package was Tim.

It was a little difficult, it wasn't Tim's fault, you love him, but he came so quickly that you haven't accepted Jason's death yet. The pain is horrible. But Tim needed love and you tried.

Tim heard you lost a son and it was still hard. He saw you crying several times, even though you hid to not show how fragile you are. Then one day, Tim came into the room where you were crying. He climbed onto the bed and hugged you.

—I'm sorry, I didn't want you to feel this pain, mom. - Tim was hugging you.

-Oh my love.

You were healing, Tim was there to help you, he knew you were broken.

-Mother?

-what?

—Nothing, it's cool to call you that.

—How about making cookies? - you smile.

—And coffee?

—You are prohibited from drinking coffee.

Tim is a mama's baby, he's always by your side when you need him, you take care of him with so much love that he just wants to reciprocate.

It is Tim who breaks the news that Jason is alive.

Bruce Wayne doesn't know when to stop and you don't really care.

The fourth package was Damian.

—Are you saying you have a child with another woman?

You need time to understand the situation, when Bruce explains it you still get suspicious. A new kid in the mansion. Harder than Jason as a teenager.

—Damian, it's going to rain, take an umbrella. - you say.

Damian looks at you.

—You're not my mother, you don't command me. - he leaves in a huff, taking the umbrella.

A new member of the book club, Jason was reluctant before accepting that Damian could join the club.

You noticed Damian was slowly approaching. If you are in the kitchen, he will come up to you and ask what you are doing. If you leave, he asks if he can come along. At the market he pushes the cart for you.

-Can I have this? - Damian points to some chocolates. He sighs remembering what Thalia told him.

You pass Damian picking up several bars.

—Yes, you can, my love.

Damian never complained about you calling him baby, living by your side is peaceful because you are a different person than his mother.

Damian wrote you a letter, actually a note.

YOU WANT TO BE MINE MOTHER?

Yes ( ) or no ( )

You thought it was so cute, you squeezed Damian saying yes, you accepted being his mother.

Damian is mommy's little baby to this day, he will always come to you looking for mommy's hugs and kisses.

Bruce Wayne is a big surprise, you love him, you love his children but every time you leave you fear that he will return with another child.

—I love you, but please try to have control, we have too many children. - you laugh.

—I think it's over, don't worry.

-He is sure?

—I think so, I'm going to stop adopting for a bit.

—You need therapy. - you laugh kissing your husband.

—We should have a baby of our own. - Bruce grumbles. You laugh, getting up from the couch.

—We already have too many children. - you scream running to the kitchen.

[z00oo1]

Collin and Penelope Fics Pt 2

Ran out of room on my last list so I'm starting a new one here! I do not own any of these fics these are just recs. Some summaries have been shortened to save space.

Knock First by Lilyofthevolume

Penelope and Colin are tired of being interrupted by his catty secretary, Marina. What happens when they stop caring about getting caught?

for you are my fate by maxmayfield

After dancing with Penelope at a society ball for the first time, Colin begins to see his friend in a new ligh

I Wanna Be Yours (Polin Prompts) by Lovelymagnolia

just a bunch of polin prompts

The One With Colin's Flemish Kiss by bridgertonbabe

Colin's secret relationship with Penelope is nearly rumbled when he slips up and kisses his girlfriend in front of his sisters-in-law. In order to cover up his blunder he makes a bold impulsive choice to provide Kate and Sophie with a distraction - but it's a choice which his brothers don't take kindly to in the slightest. Friends AU

and it was all yellow by ninjamanda

Canon divergent AU one-shot where Colin and Pen actually "communicate" and talk through their issues on their wedding night!

all the strings attached by penelopecolin (sexymonk)

Penelope struggles to draw boundaries with her new roommate - and when Colin starts behaving peculiarly towards her, she finds herself headed for a downward spiral.

The Honeymoon Period by Rachel_writes_plays

A little story about one specific day between the ending of episode 8 and the events of the epilogue.

blue dress on a boat by missparker

Penelope's efforts to find herself a husband on the marriage mart are going poorly. Benedict Bridgerton needs a wife they strike a deal to marry. Colin comes home from his travels to discover the engagement, he handles it poorly, to say the least.

Broken Glass by Radomizedusername

When a happily married Colin and Penelope briefly move back into the Bridgerton house during the late stages of Penelope's pregnancy, Anthony finds his temper rising. He expected that he would hardly notice their presence back in his home. Little did he realize he would hardly notice anything else.

Six Pomergrante Seeds by jerrymander

Colin's heartbreaking words to Penelope lead her to make different choices just days away from their wedding.

Friends, Foes, and Fernes by Mariequitecontrarie

When Colin and Penelope run into Lord Debling as a couple for the first time, their awkward conversation unearths lingering doubts and insecurities.

Matchmaker by Readingchef45

 how Eloise ensures that Penelope will be her sister from the ages of 9 to 25.

wherever you will go by nojamhands

Penelope's job requires her to finally settle in London, while Colin's asks him to take on one last trek to the Pacific. When Penelope doesn't hear from him for nearly two weeks, she starts to panic, then gets a phone call that changes the course of her life forever

still i can't get enough. by stolemystark17

Anthony is looking for his Viscountess and Penelope made the list. Colin does not care for this development. (But not because he's courting her).He is NOT courting her. He's just looking at her respectfully. As a friend.

The Family Life by alexxou_stories24

One-shots about married/parents Polin (Regency/Modern/Fluff/Smut).

you got me overnight (just let me be close to you) by marriedpolin (bisexualoliviab)

Or, a 5+1 fic about respecting the sanctity of a shared bedchamber.

EpiPen by everlarktoast

“This is Penelope. She moved into the house across the way. She’s allergic to nuts, but she has her EpiPen." Five times Bridgertons decide to stop eating nuts, and the time Colin realizes he’d given them up a long time ago.

When Lady Whistledown has a hangover by Luna1994

Penelope looked at the paper confused, it was the newspaper of Lady Whistledown.

"I would like to end this edition with probably the most scandalous thing that happened in last night’s ball, Penelope Featherington had a change on her appearance, I would not blame you dear reader for not noticing it, this author often forgets her existence, however Colin Bridgerton apparently did notice it, the two of them were seen in a dark corner

Juvenile Assumptions by NLovett

The one where Hyacinth runs away from home...yeah, all the way to Colin & Penelope's house across the square.

To London on Brooding Wings by FrenEdits95

As her world slowly devolves into a haze of lust, blood, and what can only be described as madness, she finds herself wondering if she should let her friends help her or if she should try and save them from herself.

The Love of Older siblings by Remus2039

This is a version of how Kanthony reacts to the lovers quarrel of Polin. And Kanthony's affection for Pen.

All Will Be Well by BritishGirl93

Polin AU - Medieval times

Promise Me by Jennnnyyyy

Penelope is nearing child birth and is worried that Colin might have to make a difficult choice, she has Benedict promise to be there and decide instead. Will he be able to keep his promise?

The First Draft by kws136

Colin is privy to the first drafts of the letters Pen wrote to his mother. He doesn't handle it well. Then again, maybe he does.

Echoes of You by Penny_Feathers_Bright

Edmund Bridgerton sees a little redheaded girl fall into a mud puddle at Hyde Park. Little does he know that she's his future daughter-in-law. A fluffy oneshot where Edmund meets Penelope before the events of the main series.

[stylesispunk]

"The not so invisible string" part 5

Not outbreak! Joel Miller x F! Reader

previous chapter | next chapter | series masterlist

summary: you and Joel were made right for each other at the wrong time. Now, thirteen years later your paths crossed when both of your daughters get in trouble at school. Would be the right time for you now?

word count: 4k

warnings: angst, cheating, serious talk. "Doe" is her nickname. No proof reading haha

a/n: Hello! Here's chapter 5! I hope you like it, sorry for the all the wait, I've been dealing with some things. This one is more like a filler chapter and I'll be back with another one on Tuesday! Reblogs and comments are always appreciated. Happy reading 💌 Remember my dms and asks are always open for you

dividers by @/saradika.

It has already been a week since you found out about Dwight’s family, and since then, you have not spoken to him. He had sent messages and had been calling you, begging you to let him explain himself. But you ignore them; instead, you initiated the divorce process with a lawyer, and you were waiting for this chapter of your life to finally be over. Even when you couldn’t bear the feeling of something you touched becoming ashes again, how a shame it was for you to be an insignificant target to fool.

The truth was that Dwight was a source of light entering through your window at some point. The very first night you met him, he was a gentleman, and he treated you well until he stopped. However, the unfaithful path he had chosen for the both of you was something you could not forgive. Your marriage was ending like all the other love stories you were part of.

And that was one of the worst parts of being an adult: having to pick up the broken pieces of you by yourself, save them in your pocket, and continue with your life because it doesn’t matter how exhausted you are or not; you have to continue because you are a woman and no little child is allowed to cry anymore.

During all this week, you had been staying at Joel’s house. He reassured me that it was okay for him to sleep on the couch and insisted that you take the bed. Joel had been acting as a supportive friend throughout this difficult situation, offering a listening ear whenever you needed to vent and a shoulder to cry on, but still, the string pulling you together was burning in your finger, and for him, it seemed okay to pretend that the kiss you almost gave him didn’t happen.

As you lay in bed one night, staring up at the ceiling, thoughts of Dwight and the life you had envisioned together flooded your mind. You couldn't help but feel a pang of sadness and betrayal, but deep down, you knew that you deserved better than someone who couldn't stay faithful.

After all, you thought you deserved it. You had been physically faithful to him, but you always knew your heart belonged to Joel since the moment you met him, and loving a man while staying married to another was another type of treason. 

All wells end badly if they are built on lies.

"A penny for your thoughts?"

You almost dropped your cup of coffee when you heard Joel's voice saying your name.

"What?" You inquired, perplexed.

"I told you I'm leaving and taking the girls to school; are you coming?"

"No, I have to see Dwight in an hour," you said. Joel's face sank slightly at the mention of Dwight's name, as if poison had flowed from your lips. "You know, divorce things," you said somberly.

Joel nodded in agreement, although his expression revealed a tinge of anguish. "I understand," he replied softly. "Just remember, you don't have to go through this alone. I'm here for you, no matter what.

Touched by his constant support, you smiled gratefully. "Thank you, Joel. I sincerely appreciate everything you have done for me. And thank you for taking Tara to school."

As Joel gathered his belongings and prepared to go, you couldn't help but feel grateful for having him back in your life. Despite the distress you were experiencing, knowing you had someone like him by your side gave you the resilience to face whatever lay ahead.

With a deep breath, you prepared for the meeting with Dwight, reaffirming your courage and telling yourself that you deserved better than the pain he had caused you. And as you saw Joel leaving, you couldn't help but feel like the story was repeating itself, as if you weren't deserving of permanent love.

The mood at the lawyer's office, where you sat across from Dwight, was strained. The air seemed heavy with unspoken thoughts and repressed feelings. Dwight squirmed uneasily in his seat, avoiding your gaze and fidgeting with the papers in front of him.

You took a deep breath, ready for the talk that needed to take place. "Dwight," you said, your voice firm but laced with bitterness, "we both understand why we're here. "This marriage... is over."

Dwight finally caught your stare, and you could feel the guilt and regret in his eyes. "I know," he replied softly, just above a whisper. "I messed up, and I apologize. I don't expect you to forgive me, but just know that I didn't mean to hurt you."

Your heart was crushed at his words, but you knew forgiveness would never come. "Yeah, I bet you didn't mean to have a child with another woman," you responded, your tone strict. "But apologies are not going to fix the damage already done. We need to move forward with the divorce, and I want you to tell Tara about your child."

Dwight nodded, a sense of resignation washing over him. "I understand," he replied, his voice full of remorse. "I will sign any paper that is required and won't disagree with it. I only want you to be happy, even if it is without me."

As you left the lawyer's office, without saying a word to him, Dwight turned to you with an eager expression in his eyes. "Can I have Tara over for dinner tonight?" he requested cautiously. "I want to tell her the truth and start making amends."

You hesitated for a moment, considering your alternatives. Regardless of the hurt and betrayal, you believed Tara deserved to know the truth about her father. And perhaps, by confronting the truth together, you would be able to repair the wounds that have been done to your family.

You sighed and nodded, an overwhelming feeling of conviction coming over you. "Yes, Dwight," you replied gently. "You can have Tara over for tonight.

Dwight nodded, a thankful smile flashing over his lips. "Thank you," he replied genuinely. "I won't let you down."

"I don't trust you, and if you make my daughter cry, I will fucking kill you, Dwight." You spoke with a steely tone to emphasize the importance of your warning.

Dwight's smile faded as he gulped and nodded his head. "I know I've let you both down," he muttered gently, his expression gloomy. "But I swear, I'll do everything I can to make things right. "I love Tara and would never do anything to hurt her."

You kept his stare for a minute, looking for any sign of sincerity. You slowly nodded, accepting his words with cautious apprehension. "But you did," you responded, your tone softening slightly. "Tara deserves nothing less than your best. "You are her father; act like one."

Dwight nodded firmly; his expression full of purpose. "I won't let you down," he said, his voice full of tenacity.

With a final nod, you turned and walked away, an avalanche of emotions spinning inside you. While you couldn't ignore the pain and treachery he'd caused you, you couldn't resist the flicker of optimism washing over you.

"Hey, pretty lady, can you help me with something?" Tommy spoke while reaching over to your desk.

"What is it?" you asked, in an unnecessarily harsh tone, as Tommy lifted his gaze to meet the sadness in your eyes and laid his papers aside.

"Okay. What's wrong?" He asked, concerned.

"Nothing but a soon-to-be divorce," you responded, faking a smile as if you had said something amusing, but Tommy did not laugh or smile.

"What?" you asked. "Okay, I'm kind of stressed with some things."

"I'm sorry to hear that," he replied quietly, his voice full of sympathy. "If you need someone to talk to, I'm here for you."

You felt a rush of gratitude rush over you after Tommy's offer of support.

Despite the facade you had been trying to keep up, the weight of recent events had taken its toll, and it felt good to finally share your burden with someone else.

"Is it because of my brother, or not? What about his date tonight?"

"Joel has a date tonight." you said, your heart cracking slightly.

Tommy's face furrowed with worry as he noticed your reaction. "Yes, he mentioned it earlier. He said he was going out with someone he had recently met."

The news made your heart sink as a range of emotions swirled inside you. "Oh," was all you could say, attempting to cover up the twinge of pain that stabbed your chest.

Tommy sensed a shift in your attitude, and his expression softened with understanding. "I'm sorry, I thought you knew since you are staying at his house."

"It's okay, Tommy," you said, attempting a forced smile.

However, it was not okay.

Not long after that, Joel came to the office door, ready to go, and drew your attention with a glance around the room. Without saying anything, he gestured for Tommy to join him, and the two of them rushed toward the exit.

You couldn't help but feel a tinge of disappointment as you observed them leave together, a reminder that you'd also lost him along the way.

As they approached the door, Joel paused and returned his gaze to you, his face softening as he did so, and despite the hurt and confusion whirling inside you, you managed to muster a small, strained smile in response.

"See you later," Joel murmured, his tone tinged with concern.

You nodded in answer, attempting to cover up the chaos that was growing within you. "See you," you said, the words seeming flat on your tongue.

Joel and Tommy disappeared in just one glance, leaving you alone in the office with your thoughts.

Maybe it was time for you to move on, leave his house, and even leave this town.

As the night fell, you found yourself lost in your thoughts, the events of the day weighing heavily on your mind. The sound of the door opening pulled you from your reverie, and you looked up to see Joel entering the house.

"Hey," he greeted you, his voice warm but tinged with concern as he noticed the somber expression on your face. "How was your day?"

You forced a smile, trying to mask the turmoil brewing inside you. "It was alright," you replied vaguely, avoiding his gaze.

Joel furrowed his brows, sensing that something was amiss. "Where are the girls?”

“Uhm. Sarah is upstairs doing homework”

“And Tara?" he asked, his tone filled with curiosity.

You hesitated for a moment, unsure of how to respond. "She's at Dwight's," you finally admitted, your voice barely above a whisper.

Joel's expression tensed slightly at the mention of Dwight's name, a flicker of emotion passing through his eyes before he composed himself. "Oh," was all he said, his voice neutral.

A heavy silence settled between you, the weight of unspoken words hanging in the air. Sensing the tension, you took a deep breath and decided to break the silence.

"So, uh, how was your date?" you asked, trying to sound casual despite the knot of jealousy tightening in your chest.

Joel's brows furrowed in confusion, his eyes searching yours for any hint of jest. "Date?" he echoed; his voice tinged with surprise.

Your heart sank at his reaction, realizing that perhaps you had misunderstood or misheard earlier. "Yeah, Tommy mentioned it,” you explained, trying to keep your tone light despite the growing unease in your stomach.

As you mentioned Tommy's observation, Joel's expression softened, understanding dawning in his eyes. “There was no date; I was actually still working at this dude’s house.”

“Then why did he? you began.

“Were you jealous?” he interrupted

You paused, caught off guard by Joel's interruption. The question hung in the air, heavy with implications. Your heart raced as you considered how to respond, unsure whether to admit the truth or deflect his inquiry.

"I... I don't know," you finally admitted, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Would it be bad? I mean, would it be that bad for me to have a date?” he teased, smirking at you.

Joel's teasing tone caught you off guard, and you felt a range of emotions rushing up inside you. Part of you wanted to dismiss his inquiry with a casual reply, while another part wanted to express how sensitive you are and hurt.

"Maybe" you said, your voice tinged with sorrow.

Joel's humorous tone faded when he understood the importance of his words. He reached out and gently grabbed your hand, and you automatically retreated, feeling a flash of weakness and uneasiness. His gaze shifted, and his eyes showed fear.

"I think that it's better if I go to stay at my parents' house." You said, a lump developing in your throat as you battled to hold back your tears.

"I think it's better if I go to stay at my parents' house." You announced, a lump growing in your throat as you tried to hold back tears. "I just... I need some space right now," you explained, your voice trembling with passion. "I need time to think about my feelings and figure things out."

He chuckled gently. "I think you're being dramatic." Joel's giggle broke the tension, leaving you taken aback and irritated. The lump in your throat became bigger as tears welled up in your eyes, and your heart ached from the burden of his words.

"You don't understand," you exclaimed, your voice shaking with emotion.

"Then make me!" he exclaimed. "I thought you were going to be happier without him, but it seems like you're just a gosht."

"Oh my god, I'm sorry for being sad over the fact that the man I was married to for the last years of my life built another family behind my back as if I were nothing!"

"Dwight doesn't deserve you; he never did," Joel said.

As Joel's remarks hung in the air, a tight silence fell over the room, interrupted only by the sound of your heavy breathing. His attempts to lighten the situation had only deepened the wound in your heart, leaving you feeling even more alone and misunderstood than before.

The tears that had been threatening to spill over finally let loose, running down your cheeks in silent streams as you battled to control yourself. Joel's words were like a punch in the face, a burning reminder of the treason and heartache you'd experienced at Dwight's hands.

"Oh, and who deserves me then?" You said, "Tell me; I want to know."

Joel just stated, "Someone better,” deep down knowing it was him.

"Like you?" you questioned.

"You can trust me," he reassured.

"No, I can't because I don't know you!" you stated.

"I'm the same Joel you met," he said back, trying to stop the storm from coming between you both.

"The one who became a ghost or broke my heart? Which one?" you demanded, tears welling up in your eyes.

"Look, I understand you are afraid of things, but if you think I'm going to say I wish I could get back in time and regret having my daughter for one second, you're crazy." He merely pointed out,

You chuckled as tears flowed down your cheeks. You tried to wipe them away, attempting to remain calm as you stared at Joel, hoping for some form of understanding.

"I never wanted you to regret having Sarah," you replied quietly, your voice tinged with sadness. “I know she's the best thing that ever happened to you.”

Joel's face softened in reaction to your words, with an instant of guilt running through his eyes as he saw the pain on your face. He reached out carefully, his hand gliding in the air between you as a silent gesture of comfort and understanding.

As Joel's palm finally touched yours, a sense of warmth and connection poured over you, spanning the gap that had threatened to separate you. In that moment, you sensed a glimmer of joy and a fresh belief in the possibilities of mending and healing.

"I know," Joel said quietly, his voice full of honesty. "And I am grateful for her every day. But that doesn't change how I feel about you or us. He paused. "Actually, there's something I need to confess." 

"What do you mean?" you inquired, your tone barely above a whisper.

Joel took a long breath, his gaze never leaving yours as he began speaking. "Do you remember those nights I was working late? I wasn't only working, Doe. I was saving money."

Confusion flared in your eyes as you attempted to process his words. "Save money? For what?"

"For a ring," Joel said, his voice full of remorse and vulnerability. "I was planning to propose to you."

The air in your lungs became still as Joel's words sank in. Joel had kept this secret from you all these years, while you were struggling with self-esteem issues.

Tears welled in your eyes. "Did you buy before I left that night we broke?" you whispered, your voice thick with emotion.

He nodded. "I wanted everything to be perfect," Joel confessed, his eyes filled with grief. "But then... things got complicated." "And I thought... I thought I had lost my chance with you." 

"But you let me go," you stated, sounding weak due to the weight of your words, heavy with the distress of the past.

Joel's face softened, and his eyes reflected the grief that filled his heart. "I know, and I'll always regret that," he said, his voice tinged with sadness.

His eyebrows seemed to furrow with remorse as he took a look at your intense stare. "I was a coward," he confessed, his voice barely above a whisper. "I let my fear control me, and in doing so, I lost the most important thing I had in my life."

The vulnerability in Joel's admission resonated with the ache in your own heart. For years, you had carried the weight of his absence, wondering what could have been if only he had been brave enough to fight for you.

"I should have fought for us," Joel continued, his gaze locked with yours. "But I was too afraid of losing you, so I let you slip away."

“I need space, Joel,” you said. “And I deserve to be loved, so I’m not going to follow you or anybody else unless you show me that.”

Joel's shoulders sagged with the weight of your words, his eyes reflecting a mixture of regret and understanding. "I understand," he whispered, his voice heavy with remorse. "You deserve to be loved, and I've failed you in that regard."

As you spoke, a sense of clarity washed over you, a realization that you owed it to yourself to prioritize your own healing and well-being. You had spent too long waiting for someone else to validate your worth, and now you were ready to take control your choices.

"I won't ask you to follow me," Joel replied, his tone filled with resignation. "But I hope that someday I can show you the love and respect you deserve."

As you walked downstairs, the weight of your decision weighed heavily on your shoulders. Each step seemed like a bitter reminder of the past and an uncertain future. But with every stride, you felt a fresh resolution grow within you—a drive to reclaim control of your own life.

When you reached the bottom of the steps, you paused to collect your thoughts before heading toward the door. The sound of your footsteps echoed in the still room, providing an abrupt contrast to the turbulent emotions racing within you.

However, as you reached for the doorknob, a voice stopped you in your tracks.

"Doe, wait."

You turned to see Joel standing in the doorway, his expression full of anguish.

You turned to see Joel standing in the doorway, his expression full of anguish. His eyes pleaded with you, silently begging for the opportunity to set things right.

"I need to go," you replied, just above a whisper. "I cannot stay here, Joel."

Joel took a step closer, his eyes never leaving yours. "I understand," he replied, his voice tinged with regret. "You need space, but I have to tell you this before."

You hesitated, divided between the urge to leave and the need to hear Joel's words. With a disturbed heart, you nodded, quietly encouraging him to speak.

"I made a mistake that night," Joel said, his voice shaking with emotion. "I should've fought for you, Doe. I should have told you how much you meant to me instead of letting you leave."

You broke down in tears when you heard Joel's confession. For years, you had felt the weight of his absence, wondering if things could have turned out differently if he had been brave enough to fight for you.

"I'm sorry," Joel said quietly, his voice barely audible. "I'm so sorry for letting you go." He breathed in. "So that's why I'm doing this now."

“What?” you asked.

You furrowed your brow, attempting to make sense of his captivating comment. Before you could utter another word, Joel closed the distance between you, his movements swift yet gentle.

In an instant, his lips touched yours in a delicate kiss—a muttered plea for forgiveness and a promise of reconciliation. The world around you appeared to fade away as the warmth of his touch embraced you, washing away the layers of doubt and uncertainty that had tortured your heart for so long.

Joel knew words weren’t enough for you right now, and this swift action was the only way he found to pour and show all the love and promises he couldn’t save those years, being sealed in this very right moment.

Not letting you go this time was his first attempt to bring you back and offer you the life and love you deserved.

For a little moment, time stood still, and all that mattered was what you shared with Joel—a bond that transcended through the years.

Joel pulled away, his gaze fixed on yours, looking for any sign of recognition. His breath merged with yours, stealing what he believed was his. A silent exchange of emotions spoke volumes without the use of words.

"I can't let you go," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "Not again, please stay with me," he pleaded, holding your face with his hands. 

Joel's words lingered heavily in the air, echoing his desperation and need. You noticed a genuine desperation in his request, one that mirrored your own. You had ached for reassurance of his love for so long, and now as he stood before you, baring his soul, you couldn't resist the pull of your heart toward him.

"I don't want to leave," you said, just above a whisper. "But I need to know that this time is different, Joel. I need to know if you are willing to fight for us."

Joel nodded; his eyes full of purpose. "I am," he declared, his voice filled with passion. "I'll do whatever it takes to make things right between us, to prove to you that you're the one I want, now and always."

Tears welled up in your eyes as you met Joel's soulful gaze and noticed the depth of his love and honesty reflected in you. You lifted your hand while taking in the warmth of his face under your fingertips.

Feeling the warmth of Joel's touch under your fingertips, you took a deep breath, trying to steady the whirlwind of emotions swirling within you. Despite the overwhelming rush of love and longing, you knew that you needed time to process everything that had happened—to settle the chaos in your heart and mind.

"I need time," you admitted, your voice trembling slightly with emotion. "Time to process everything that's happened, time to heal, and time to figure out what I want."

Joel's expression softened, and his gaze filled with understanding. "I understand," he said softly, his voice a soothing balm to your frazzled nerves. "Take all the time you need, baby. I'll be here waiting for you, I promise.”

Sarah

 “Guys, it worked! They talked things out!”

Tara

No way! Seriously?

Tommy

So, my lie worked? What happened?

Sarah

They kissed! My dad is over the moon!

Tara

 OMG, really?! I can't believe it!

Tommy

Wow, I didn't think our little plan would actually work.

Sarah

We just needed to give them a little push.

Tommy

We? I lied for you little girls.

Tara

I'm so happy for them. They belong together.

Tommy

Yeah, they do. Let's just hope they figure things out soon.

tags 💌: @joeldjarin @missladym1981 @yomiyasxx @aliengirl99 @lola8888673 @nottodaysattan @picketniffler @violinchick @sadgirlcheesecake @caitlynsixxx @luvwanda @sarahhxx03

[ladykailitha]

Sweet Home Indiana

You guys are getting an absolute feast this week. Two chapters on regular posting days, the twenty snippets you got on WIP Wednesday, this, and of course more Across a Crowded Room tomorrow.

Enjoy!

Based off a post I saw on here (and didn't save for some reason) about the legal tangles gay people had to go through when gay marriage was federally legalized because a lot of them married different people in different states because their marriage in California wasn't legal in the other states and just never bother to get a divorce.

And my brain let's Steddify this shit Sweet Home Alabama style!

So here we go:

Eddie and Steve got married in Boston when Massachusetts made gay marriage legal. But they broke up when Eddie went to California with his band.

Cue Eddie going around and having a couple of really short marriages in different states. Tommy in New York for three months when the band was in New York recording an album. Billy in Hawaii for two weeks while Eddie was there on vacation.

Neither of them really mattered or were serious. Because they were only legal in the state they were performed in so Eddie didn't think anything about it.

Fast forward to a decade later, gay marriage is legalized across the country. Corroded Coffin has broken up and Eddie has a job as a tattoo artist.

Eddie goes to get a marriage license in Seattle where he's been living for the past five years. And is denied on the account he's a polygamist. He's still married to three different men in three different states.

Fuck.

His fiancee Chrissy is a legal assistant at a law firm so she has her bosses draw up annulments for Eddie's three marriages and has them sent out to all three of Eddie's exes.

Including Steve.

When Steve gets his papers, he's pissed. He hunts down Eddie's number and calls. Tells him that he can do the proper thing and tell him to his face he wants a divorce. None of this annulment bullshit like their relationship didn't matter. But until then he can fuck off.

Now Eddie's frantic. Because the reason why he and Chrissy were getting married in the first place is that her student visa ended in May and her work visa has been delayed three times. They have to get married otherwise she'll be deported. And no just a little across the border to Canada either, she's from Barbados.

He tells her the truth about Steve and how they were actually married for almost two years before Eddie left. They had been living in their home town of Hawkins where their marriage wasn't legal any way, but meant something to them.

Chrissy is upset he didn't tell her this sooner, because yeah, that's whole other kettle of fish. So she has her bosses draft a divorce decree and words it a whole lot nicer than the legalese of the annulment.

Eddie packs his bags heads to back to Hawkins and back to Steve. He has one week to convince Steve to sign the divorce papers.

He gets into to town and finds that Steve is the proud owner of the best bakery in town. And the best selling item is the chunky mint brownies Steve made just for Eddie when they first got together. Eddie gets a little sentimental about it, and Steve stubbornly refuses to sign the papers.

They go back and forth for a few days. They tumble into bed and Eddie wakes up, he finds Steve gone and the papers signed.

Only now that Steve has signed them, he doesn't want that anymore. So he breaks down crying and sobbing. He calls Chrissy and now Chrissy is as distraught as he is.

After they hang up Chrissy calls the bakery and Robin answers. Chrissy really needs to speak to Steve.

Robin tells her Steve can't come to the phone because he is covered in flour and can't because he'll get it messy. Chrissy asks if she calls his cell phone if Robin could hold it up to his ear, because she really needs to talk to him. But Robin refuses to budge. She banned Steve from having a cell phone around their giant stand mixer because he has lost three of them to the beast.

Robin offers to pass long the message, though. And Chrissy has to be content with that. She explains who she is and why Eddie needed the divorce. She tells Robin about Eddie's breakdown that morning and how he really didn't want to divorce Steve.

Robin and her get to talking about their best friends, missed connections and themselves.

While the girls are talking Eddie is having another freak out because he put the envelope containing the divorce papers in the mail box but realized he forgot to sign them himself. He needs to get them back so he can sign them, but he's afraid of getting arrested for tampering a federal post box trying to get the papers back.

He's near hysterics when Nancy finds him. She's in town visiting her family. And she helps him get the papers back by talking to the post office and they open the box and he gets them back.

She takes him to lunch to calm his clearly frazzled nerves. He tells her everything. And she tells him that while Eddie was in New York, Steve had gone to see him and when he saw how much bigger and better the big city was, Steve decided if he was going to win Eddie back, he had to make something of himself. And thus began the bakery. He almost had enough to fly to Seattle and woo Eddie. But then this happened.

Now Eddie is really stricken. He wants Steve so bad, but Chrissy is out of options.

Nancy gives his arm a squeeze and Eddie heads back to the hotel he'd been staying at.

He finally looks at his phone and sees a lot of messages and texts from Chrissy begging him not mail the divorce papers yet, she has a plan. Cue Eddie having a final breakdown in his hotel room, sobbing and wrung out.

There is a knock on his door and Eddie is confused the only person who knew his hotel and room number was Chrissy and she's in Seattle. But he gets up to answer and suddenly has an armful of Steve Harrington. Who is also a sobbing wreck.

After both of them calm down, Steve tells him he only signed the papers because he wanted Eddie to be happy. And if that meant being divorced from him, he'd do it.

But Eddie's isn't happy. He's sad and hurt and lonely. Steve is too.

They fall asleep in each other's arms, placing their trust in their best friends.

The next morning they are woken up by Robin and surprise surprise, Chrissy.

They explained that since gay marriage is legal everywhere now, Robin is going to marry Chrissy. And she'll swap places with Eddie. She'll go back to Seattle with Chrissy and Eddie can stay here with Steve.

It's perfect.

They get a marriage license and walked down the courthouse where Eddie and Steve are their witnesses. While the judge is talking, Steve pulls out Eddie's old ring. The one he returned to Steve when he moved out to be with his band.

He slips it back on Eddie's ring finger where it belongs. They kiss at the same time Chrissy and Robin do.

A couple years later Chrissy becomes a lawyer and her and Robin move back to Hawkins where Eddie has opened his own tattoo parlor, right next to Steve's bakery.

And they all live happily ever after.

ETA: Full Story here.

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