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saintobio · 6 months

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sincerely yours. (10)

↳ gojou satoru/reader

when a twist of fate led their marriage to the path of a quintessential tragic romance, two past lovers go through another series of experiences on love, heartbreak, identity, illness, and trauma along the road to a happily ever after.

genre. heavy angst, amnesia, modern au, 18+

tags/warnings. depression, intoxication, trauma, implied suicide attempt, toxic relationships,

notes. important announcement ! as you all know, this series has always had an extensive approach into detailing the events in its side stories (ie. sera x sukuna x naoya, yuuji x megumi, maki x yuuta x miwa, etc), but while writing the chapters, the word count and the plot building had become too exhausting for me to produce consistently, esp with the amount of scenes and side stories i was introducing to the story, so i've decided it's best for me to stick to the main characters, reader & gojo, and will only add side stories as necessary. this really hurts me knowing that i can't achieve the level of comprehensive writing and world building that i did for sincerely not, but i really want to finish sy as soon as possible and removing a chunk of side stories would be some of the things that'd help me achieve that 😭 i hope you guys understand. hopefully i'll figure out a way to write those side stories instead of completely abandoning them mid-way in this series. but as always, thanks for ur continued support <3

series masterlist -> episode eleven

“It’s a little weird.”

What was supposed to be her bed time had turned into a moment of reflection for Sera who, instead of being fast asleep at this time of the night, had unconsciously brought herself inside Sukuna’s home office to join the up-and-coming tech mogul in his late-night programming.

She wore her silk pajamas, pacing back and forth in her boyfriend’s office as her mind flew back to the recent encounter she had with her ex-boyfriend. Who knew that Satoru’s kid would look just like a carbon copy of him? No, actually, the question should be: who knew it would be a different woman by his side acting as the mother of his child? Sera had to laugh at herself, shaking her head as she realized how truly and undeniably ridiculous her ex was. It was clear that day that he wasn’t really as loyal of a partner as he claimed himself to be.

Did he really just go through all those crazy things with you, only to look like a whore-hopping fool now?

If he was bound to end up with someone else other than you, then why did he have to make Sera’s life miserable in the first place?

She may have done terrible things before as a selfish and materialistic lover of his, but that wouldn’t change the fact that Satoru also contributed to her role as the side-piece in his marital relationship. He allowed her to cling to him like a mistress. Being his side-piece wasn’t even something that she had forced upon him. It was his promise, an idea that he planted on Sera’s head, saying that she would need to stay by his side and that he would marry her guaranteed that he had already secured the merger and divorced you. He swore like a fool that he would divorce you. But guess what? The jerk ended up falling in love with his wife and suddenly had no use of Sera. Suddenly, he was such a good husband who couldn’t be more loyal. Suddenly, he was a lovestruck man who had always been in love with his childhood friend. If he had downright dumped Sera the moment his engagement was announced, if he had not been prideful and ambitious since the beginning of his marriage, he probably would have had better luck at having that healthy relationship he yearned from you.

But how come the blame of being the third-party was all on Sera when her only mistake then was loving the person who promised her all the good things in life?

Now, you see, this was all just bitterness brewing at the back of her head. She knew what she did was still wrong and that she wasn’t innocent. Sera swore to herself that she would never look back on those awful days ever again, but seeing how Satoru was running around freely with a different woman just reminded Sera of his days as a spiteful, two-timing man. Somehow, it felt like he had changed and yet didn’t at all.

Ha ha ha. How ridiculous was that?

“What’s funny?” asked Sukuna, her present boyfriend and thankfully so. He was Sera’s blessing, because she never would have thought that a man like him could still exist in a world full of Satoru’s and Naoya’s. “You look cute smiling to yourself, though.”

“I know,” she responded to the compliment, shifting to settle herself on his lap, though his attention remained fixed on his laptop screen. “It's just strange to me,” she continued, her voice thoughtful, “how Gojou appears his usual self, yet there's something off about him.”

The question clouded Sukuna’s eyes in confusion, tilting his head to the side as he tried to comprehend her description. “You mean dude got uglier?”

I wish, Sera thought. “No, he’s… he’s different. The vibes are different. For a second, he even looked like he was dissociating the whole time he was with that girl,” she said, referring to Satoru’s new girl as though she was your cheap alternative, “But then again, why is he with her in the first place if he looks absent-minded the whole time, you know what I mean?”

“Was he like that with you before?”

“At times, but it’s not like the way he’s acting right now… I don’t know, I can’t explain it. The energy is off. That’s just not how he acts when he’s really, really into someone.”

To be honest, Sukuna didn’t give a damn about Satoru Gojou’s life and any normal boyfriend wouldn’t really like hearing their girlfriend talking about another man, especially her ex at that, but he knew Sera found joy in old money gossip and he was aware of the demoralizing past she has had by associating herself with them. Sukuna was acting all engaged in their conversation because he wanted to make her feel heard and that he shared her simple joys in life. Besides, it was through her that he learned so many inside scoops about the people that ran the country’s biggest conglomerates. It was like watching one heck of a messy episode of Dynasty.

“Didn’t he get into a car accident?” he recalled, remembering the headlines on the news that day, “Then, we saw him at the expo and he couldn’t really remember you. The guy’s probably got his head all messed up.”

Sera was bitter at the time thinking that Satoru was toying with her when he asked who she was, when the truth was, he was actually diagnosed with amnesia. It was such a shock to her, truthfully, because having amnesia felt like something you would only see on a movie’s screen. Well, in that case, she could also say karma’s a bitch. The director might be onto something here.

“He’s probably not mentally fine, but still…” she thought carefully and played the scene in her head again. What was it about the Gojou that she saw the other day that was different? “He just has a different vibe to him that it feels uncomfortable. It’s like he’s rude, but not so rude? He doesn’t have much of a personality anymore. Like a complete stranger.”

“Maybe it’s the new girl rubbing off on him.” Sukuna was back to typing on his laptop as he said that. Frankly, he was just saying anything at this point.

Sera shook her head in response. “Well, I don’t know about that girl he’s seeing and I don’t really care, but it’s common knowledge to the filthy rich that she’s Y/N’s best friend. That’s why I recognized her right away, and that’s why it disgusted me,” she pressed on, “Tell me, would you—and be honest about this—would you fuck your best friend’s ex?”

The humor on her boyfriend’s face came right as she asked that. “Babe, you fucked a married man. It’s worse than fucking somebody’s ex.”

“Shut up.” Rolling her eyes, she got up from his lap and sighed, but Sukuna wasted no time in pulling her back onto his lap. His chuckle was mingling with the gentle kiss he had planted on her cheek, unaware that his actions made Sera’s heart flutter. “Forget it. I shouldn’t even be talking about Satoru with you.”

The man stretched his arms and finally closed his laptop, patting Sera’s thigh afterwards. “On that note, I do have another ‘dude from your past’ that I gotta meet tomorrow.”

Her reaction alone was a response for him. “Naoya?” she protested, face contorting with disgust. “What for? I told you not to take on that project.”

“Yeah, I considered it, and you know, the partnership could really benefit CleaveTech,” Sukuna reasoned, leaning back as he outlined the situation to her from a business standpoint. Given her own background working for the Gojou Group before, he expected her to grasp the significance of this partnership and set aside any personal grievances or emotional attachments. “The Zen'in Group is a major client. It’s all pros and no cons here.”

“The contra is the guy you’re gonna work with,” she highlighted with a hint of annoyance rising from her throat, “Naoya is nothing but an opportunistic motherfucker. Mind you, he’s a stupid elitist, too.”

He held back a laugh, not even threatened by a man who had a terrible history with his girlfriend. “Nah, I’ll deal with him. Just trust me on this.”

As much as Sera wanted to object, she knew Sukuna had a point and that she really shouldn’t hinder his company from being partnered with such a large conglomerate. She just didn’t like the thought of her boyfriend being around a man who manipulated and humiliated her to the point where she had been blacklisted by multiple companies, leaving her to resort to being somewhat of a prostitute just to make ends meet.

The world was harsh for the not-so-rich, and all Sera wanted was to give those upper class people a taste of their own medicine. But seeing as her desire for revenge would clash with her boyfriend’s chance at company growth, she had to set aside her personal grudge and support him on this one.

Still, there was nothing wrong with being curious. “Is there any other reason you agreed to this partnership?”

Sukuna smirked as if he expected that question from her. “Blame it on my little brother, he’s been bugging me ‘bout it.”

“Yuuji?” Sera asked, clearly confused.

To which her boyfriend quickly answered, “Yeah. He said it’ll give him an opportunity to work with his best friend. You know that kid, Fushiguro, right?”

Ahh. Toji’s kid aka the heir to the Zen’in business empire. Sera had met Megumi before, and while that other brat Mai used to be unreasonably rude to her, the younger boy was always civil and respectful at least. He never even once treated Sera like dirt when she was spending time with Naoya at their mansion. Perhaps their upbringing really differed because he was raised by Toji and the other Zen’ins were raised by demons.

Nevertheless, with a connection now established between Sukuna and Naoya through Yuuji and Megumi, Sera couldn’t help but feel that her peaceful days as a nouveau riche were about to become far more intriguing. Depending on the cards she would choose to play, they could even turn into a living nightmare.

— —

You weren’t exactly abandoning your company; you were merely taking a break, a necessary pause given your current mental state after the whole break-up with Toji and the Osaka thing. Your mind was just too overwhelmingly occupied to even properly function. Each day, mustering the energy to show up at Hearte's head office became increasingly challenging, especially when faced with individuals who relied on you for major decisions and creative direction.

To make matters worse, Akemi’s sudden resignation hit hard.

You received her decision by a simple letter, a mere piece of paper, without even having the guts and decency to meet with you in person. Was she scared? Or was this her way of rubbing salt on the wound, shoving it in your face that she was now taking things to the next level with your ex-husband?

She did cite in her resignation letter that her reason for resigning from the role was due to conflict of interest. You wanted to laugh when you read that part. No, you wanted to choke in your fit of laughter after reading through her asinine reasons. She could have been upfront and mentioned that the so-called ‘conflict’ was the very man her best friend had previously married.

Obviously, everyone in the office felt sad knowing that a core member of the company left without at least a 30-day notice, but they were all also aware that her resignation was due to personal albeit controversial reasons. Did Akemi not care about her image at all? The same colleagues she had trained, managed, and collaborated with would now likely gossip about her behind her back. She would become a hot topic of disrespect among the people that once heavily respected her. Did she also not care about the company you two created together anymore? This was the same company you two had passionately dreamed of during your late-night conversations on a New York rooftop. She was the one who wanted to build a fashion house together with you.

Yet, it seemed she was willing to throw it all away for a man already entangled in complicated familial dynamics. Her immediate resignation and refusal to speak to you in person just further confirmed it to you that Akemi was willing to forsake your friendship by choosing a man who already had a child with someone else.

Since she chose that path, you couldn’t help but interpret Akemi’s actions as a deliberate slight against your friendship. It seemed clear that she no longer viewed you as a friend and was essentially cutting ties with you. Otherwise, why would she take such a step? Akemi wasn’t the type to be vindictive; she likely believed she was sparing you further pain by severing your connection. However, regardless of her intentions, her actions felt deeply disrespectful and hurtful.

If this was what she wanted, then kudos to her and her unbelievable confidence to choose a man like Satoru Gojou. Besides, it didn’t even take you a week to find another replacement. Your family connections were powerful after all. You readily had a pool of potential candidates for the role of the Head of Sales, Retail, and Merchandising—all from prestigious backgrounds and unparalleled expertise. While the competition was tough, you selected the person you deemed was the most qualified to be your second-in-command. This was someone you had esteemed since college, a person who excelled in both business acumen and creative vision.

Yuki Tsukumo. She was influential in every sense, and you trusted that she would be able to manage the high pressure environment of a start-up fashion house and transform it into an iconic brand, a household name that would one day rival Chanel and Miu Miu.

You may have succeeded in replacing Akemi. You may have shown her that her position in the workforce was easily replaceable, but her role as your friend still left a lingering, repugnant mark that proved far more difficult to erase. This underlying sentiment could explain the unreasonable anger festering in your heart—a visceral reaction born from feelings of backstabbing betrayal.

It was hard enough for you to travel all the way to Osaka with a broken heart, but it became much more agonizing to watch your own son run up to Akemi like she was his mother. It was a goddamn slap to your face, indeed, to see that your ex-husband had already chosen a woman to have his happy, little family with. That he wanted to be a good man and be everything you wished for in a husband for her.

As they say, nothing hurts more than building a man for another woman.

And honestly? You cried so much on the way home that you became numb. Now, you were just trying to get over it. You were trying to bury the searing pain in order to forget the betrayal you felt. It was all too much for a person to handle and it wasn’t like you hadn’t gone through the same old shit before. Wasn’t it worse before with Satoru actually cheating and all? He technically wasn’t crossing any lines here, so it shouldn’t hurt you. It shouldn’t. You had been here before. If you had managed to get through such an awful time as his previous wife, his relationship with Akemi shouldn’t be too hard to accept. No, you weren’t trying to lowball your pain, but it was better to be an optimist in this situation than be a suicidal, self-destructive person. You had a business to run and a child to raise. You had to be strong.

Or at least, that was what you told yourself. That was what you had been telling yourself over and over, each time you got up from bed forcing yourself to have a false positive mindset. In fact, that was also why you had to take this extended break because you had to have your peace of mind. You had to have some form of release to remember why you needed to stay alive and keep yourself going.

Not just for Sachiro’s sake, but also for your own.

Your safe haven for now was at the horse ranch, where the tranquility of riding and the beauty of nature provided the perfect ambiance for reflection. How long has it been since your last visit to Willow? Your father had been joking that you shouldn’t be leaving a beautiful, white Friesian horse unattended for years, especially not for the expensive price he paid her for. True enough, because the moment you saw the mare again, you almost forgot how majestic she was for her breed. Willow was a completely docile and graceful horse, so alike to you in many ways. However, one thing that was unlike you, was that she lived in peace, existing solely for herself and not for anyone else.

If only you could be like her.

As you reached out to stroke your rare-breed horse, a new and unfamiliar stallion in the stable caught your eye. To think of it, your family shared this equestrian estate with the Gojou family. This realization meant that the strikingly elegant and tall gray horse in the adjacent stall belonged to none other than Satoru.

“It’s a Thoroughbred,” the equine caretaker informed while guiding your horse out of the stable, “Mr. Satoru got him recently and named him Six.”

A gray Thoroughbred, renowned as the most expensive horse breeds out there. It could fetch a price as high as $70 million, and of course, Satoru was the perfect owner for such a prestigious horse. The stallion embodied his essence completely—its color, its build, its rarity. On the other hand, you couldn’t help but find his naming convention by number a bit odd. His previous black stallion was named Eight. This time around, it was Six. Couldn’t he be more imaginative?

“He’s beautiful,” you mumbled, nonetheless, in awe with the regality of the horse.

“He’s a good boy, too,” added the enthusiastic horsekeeper in a thick country accent, “Mr. Satoru was here yesterday and played polo while riding him. They were perfectly in sync even if it was his first time riding him.”

Of course, he would play polo. That was one of his favorite recreational sports. The burning question at hand was, who was with him during his visit? Because if the caretaker mentioned Akemi, you would certainly lose it. This was your private space with him. This estate was a place that none of his other women had access to, not even Sera. This was a location filled with memories from your childhood. For him to bring another woman here would be crossing the damn line.

“Did he bring anyone with him?” you asked, trying to sound casual as you dusted off your boots.

The caretaker denied. “No, he was alone. He just came to play polo and check the horses he recently bought.”

Oh… “He bought more than one?”

Did he seriously get Akemi her own horse? Your heart was racing at the thought, but the caretaker led you to the stable near the exit to show you the other horse than your ex-husband had purchased. It was a brown Shetland pony.

“He got a fully trained Shetland for your son,” the horsekeeper proudly declared, showcasing the pony as if he had been instructed to do so in anticipation of your visit. It was obvious that Gojou had already briefed him on introducing Sachiro’s new pony to you because he knew you would be asking about it. “His name is Elmo. He is kid-safe and very friendly.”

Frankly, you wanted to sigh in relief, but at the same time, it warmed your heart to know that Satoru got his son his own horse at such a young age. You could already sense him planning to make Sachiro take equestrian classes when he gets older, and probably join him on his horseback riding sessions, too. You could imagine just how perfect it would be to see the father and son bonding here, racing together, playing polo together… yet it would not be you who would be watching them on the side.

This future he was setting up with his son would be an experience he would share with Akemi.

There was no you in that vision anymore.

The caretaker likely questioned your sanity when he noticed the bitter smile on your face as you mounted your mare. He might have even doubted whether you were sane enough to ride alone, without a guide, particularly through the woods since Willow had not been ridden for some time now. However, you had done it countless times before and were quite familiar with the trail, and so you dismissed his offer to lead you and assured him confidently that you knew your way back.

You needed this solitude. You craved this moment of peace, alone with your thoughts and surrounded by nature, to reflect on the ceaseless torture of your life. It was just never-ending, squeezing every drop of happiness out of your system to make sure that you would only live to suffer. You really thought you had your happy ending with someone else? You actually believed you had found the perfect man to be your actual husband?

Well, unfortunately for you, Toji was not the one.

At first, your mind flew to Toji as you went on to the trail, allowing the mare to continue trotting as you held the reins to control her. You remembered Toji’s text that morning, asking you for the hundredth time if he could meet with you. He likely wanted to apologize in person, but you doubted he would change his mind and take back the things he said. Because they were true. He could never fill the void left by his deceased wife by being with another empty soul. It was painfully, unmistakably true. You were better off dead if that was the case, because even if you did end up marrying him, you would never be regarded as the person he loved the most. After all, your role in this world seemed to always be the second option. You were never the first in other people’s books. Not with your ex-husband. Not even with your family, especially with Gen around. You were meant to be a bystander, watching others live their perfect lives while you were forced to be in your misery. Someone like Toji would not have a guaranteed blissful marriage with you and you had to spare him from that. You had to draw the line and step back from this charade that you were playing with him, knowing that you were never the right person to be with him, so at some point, you had to accept his drunken words. They came from a place of truth, and that truth would set the both of you free.

Even it hurt. Even if it fucking hurt to hear his words. You couldn’t deny them.

You could easily forgive him, but his words might take a while for you to forget because even thinking about it now was bringing a wave of pain into your chest. You didn’t even notice that you were losing control on Willow’s reins by the time you entered further into the woods, bouncing on the saddle as you galloped along the challenging path. With the speed you were riding right now, inexperienced riders would certainly find it unsafe and scary. But for you? It was just what you needed. The breeze of fresh air, the thrill of riding alone, the peaceful sound of nature—you could die there and be at your happiest.

Maybe that was where you had to be; to disappear and leave them all behind. Wouldn’t that be best for everyone? If you were to vanish, they could finally be free. Your presence, even from the beginning, was a burden for everyone—for your dad, Gen, Satoru, Toji, and even Akemi. The people you trusted the most would be the same people who would secretly celebrate your demise. So, what else was hindering you from taking matters into your own hands and ending it all yourself?

“Giddy up!”

Was it Sachiro? Definitely. But now he had his father, and he was likely starting to see Akemi as a mother figure as well. Your role as his beloved mama could be easily replaced if you were to leave him now. It wouldn’t hurt him as much that way. Three years with Sachiro seemed sufficient enough, and he was at an age where he could grow up alongside his father. In this short span, he would have lasting memories with you, yet not enough to deeply grieve your absence. He was a young child, surrounded by people who would offer the whole world to him. At least, for that, you were eternally grateful. It brought you comfort knowing that your son would have support after you were gone, and that he would find a mother figure in Akemi. Given the brief time he spent with you and the rest of his life with her as his stepmother, Sachiro would likely come to love and accept Akemi as his own mother. This was the best outcome you could hope for.

My child, my son, my baby… please don’t get mad at mommy.

Tears were gushing out of your eyes and you hadn’t even realized it until they started blurring your vision. You were far too lost in your own thoughts, unaware that you were now in an unfamiliar and seemingly dangerous part of the trail. The path was getting a little bit too steep and poor Willow was clearly stressed at your inconsiderate handling. There were multiple obstacles on your rocky terrain and you weren’t as steady and controlled as you wanted to be because the horse wasn’t comfortable navigating such a difficult path with the pace you were forcing her to.

“Ah!”

Your attempt to balance was interrupted by Willow’s loud neigh, signaling her distress before she bolted into a full rampage. She was sprinting at an estimated speed of 20 miles per hour. Not even a skilled rider like Satoru himself would be cantering that fast on unfamiliar terrain and an unfit horse. But you, you clearly had a death wish, because instead of fearing for your own life, you were far more concerned at the thought of how dreamy Satoru and Akemi’s wedding would look like after your demise. They would definitely make Sachiro their ringbearer. Suguru would be the best man. Shoko, the maid of honor. People on the internet would praise them for being an attractive couple. They would anticipate their beautiful kids together, living in the same mansion he bought as a gift to you. He would kiss her good night, tell her loves her, and offer the whole world to her. They would exchange vows and promise themselves a lifelong commitment to be by each other’s side through sickness and in health, and only in death would they part.

“Willow!”

You let out a shriek as the reins slipped from your grasp, causing you to tumble off the saddle and crash onto the ground. The impact was first felt in your elbow, and a sharp, searing pain then radiated through your body. There you lay, sprawled on the dirt, helplessly watching Willow galloping out of control up the mountain, and then tragically plummeting off a cliff.

“Nooo! Willow, no!”

Utter hysteria overtook you. You sobbed uncontrollably, unable to determine which pain was more agonizing—the clearly broken elbow, the loss of the horse you had inadvertently led to its death, or the heart-wrenching reality of Satoru starting a family with someone else.

You were pathetic. You were such a pathetic excuse of a human being and this was why you deserve hell.

“Willow!”

Toji couldn’t love you. Your own son didn’t want to be around you. Satoru had gotten over you. And now, you drove a poor innocent horse to its demise because of your recklessness!

You were crying hysterically as you held your pained elbow, crawling by the cliff’s edge as you screamed for your horse’s name, but in the end, there was nothing you could do. You could only apologize to poor Willow for having such an irresponsible owner, and now she was dead because of you. 16 years of her life, she was able to live in peace until you came and ruined it all for her. It should have been you. You were the one who should have jumped off a cliff. You should atone for your sins and follow her, but you were too weak, far to overcome by the excruciating pain on your hip and your broken elbow to move or do anything at all.

That was, until your mind had completely shut down, leaving you as a mere body to be discarded alone in the darkness of the woods. You hoped that no one else would find you soon.

— —

“A-Angina?” Satoru’s eyes went wide. His whole world stopped before him.

“Yes. She was diagnosed with stable angina,” Dr. Mori confirmed, much to your husband’s horror. “But there is another factor that requires her to have more rest. You need to take good care of your wife, Mr. Gojou. Her body needs a lot of nutrients so she can carry safely.”

He could barely process the whole thing in his head because the news kept coming one after another, leaving him in a befuddled state with a flood of unanswered questions running through his mind. “What do you mean…?”

“Your wife is seven weeks pregnant.”

…

“Y/N?”

“Y/N!”

“Are you out of your mind?!”

You could barely pry your eyes open, but when you finally managed to, you were met with the concerned expression on Gen’s face. The harsh glare of fluorescent lights and the antiseptic scent confirmed to you that you were in the ER, likely an hour or two after the incident in the woods. The memory of the trail quickly flooded your thoughts, and a pang of sorrow gripped your heart as you recalled Willow's final moments before she fell off the cliff. The poor horse had lost her life, while the one responsible for her tragic death remained alive, save for the bandage wrapped around your arm.

“Why did you ride into the woods alone?” Gen persisted with her barrage of questions, standing by your bed as you attempted to sit up. “Are you suicidal or what? Riding your horse in a dangerous trail like that—”

“You know what, maybe I should have just died back there!” you snapped, wincing from the pain in your elbow. Her choice of words struck a nerve in you. “Maybe I’d prefer that over sitting here, listening to your sanctimonious lecture like you're so perfect yourself! How obnoxious.”

“Then, maybe you shouldn’t be riding so recklessly and causing alarm to everyone else!”

“Did I literally ask you to come save me?!”

The atmosphere around you two just became even more uninviting, with discomfiting silence seeping through as you and Gen were engaged in a sharp glaring contest. Your father stood behind her, clearing his throat to cut the tension.

“That’s enough, Gen.” Your dad placed a hand on her shoulder, and although she wanted to protest, she knew better not to keep stirring the pot after receiving his strict gaze. “Let’s just be thankful your sister is safe. There’s no need to be so overwhelming.”

You rolled your eyes, drawing in a deep breath before you looked away from them. None of them would ever understand your pain unless they were in your position. They didn’t carry the same baggage as you, so they would never fully comprehend the weight of your suffering. You had already dealt with similar pain on your own before and that was why you didn’t need any of them to come to your aid, meddling with your life like they knew exactly what you were going through. “Just leave me alone, you guys. I wanna rest.”

Since when did your relationship with your sister start to get rough? It wasn’t really like this before, but ever since she started to become too overprotective over you and your choices in life, particularly choices linked to Satoru, Gen had started to become insufferable in your eyes. She was acting too much like a mother; controlling your decisions, lecturing you about your personal relationships, being too involved with your private life. There, ever since that, you started to distance yourself from her, and she didn’t like that. Her stubbornness wouldn’t allow her to cease acting like this mature, picture perfect big sister to you.

With that said, Gen would have normally gotten annoyed when you asked them to leave you alone, but this time around, she seemed to have reflected on her insensitivity a lot better with your father around. “I’m sorry, okay?” she said, her tone still tinged with stubbornness, “I just got worried. I don’t know what’s gotten into you to put yourself in danger like that, but… please, Y/N. If you’re going through something, you can always speak to us. Dad and I, we’re here for you.”

To be fair, if you had to put yourself in their shoes, it really would have been alarming to know that your sister almost died. This wasn’t the first time you were at death’s door either, so they were probably scared shitless when they were informed of your situation. Your absolutely reckless situation. You didn’t mean to cause a scene, neither did you intend to bother them on their already busy schedules. You just had so many things in your mind while you were horseback riding, too engulfed by your own sorrow that you didn’t realize the repercussions after the incident had already taken place.

“I’m sorry, too.” Your voice softened with humility. “I didn’t mean to worry you guys. It was just really an accident.”

Of course, Gen suspected it was more than just an accident. Your dad did, too. It was obvious on their forlorn faces that they were worried for your mental and emotional well-being, but none of them dared address the elephant in the room. It seemed they didn’t need to, anyway, since one of the many reasons that contributed to your earlier breakdown took a peek from behind the curtains, clearing his throat and sending you a look of sympathy.

“Y/N?” Toji looked at your father and your sister for approval before stepping further inside your space in the ER. “Can I talk to you?”

There was no escaping Toji’s presence anymore. No more hiding, no more avoiding. You knew you had to have this talk with him no matter how many times you ignored his flood of texts and calls. While this may have struck as an opportune moment for him to speak to you in person, facing the painful truth of your situation weighed heavily on you. Besides, hadn’t the irony presented itself right there? If Satoru were the one trying to speak to you, even if he was the father of your child, Gen would have been quick to lash out at him. Yet with Toji, even with the general knowledge of what had transpired between you two, your sister still showed no hostility towards him, allowing him to approach you freely and without interference.

But then again, Toji was far from being a cheating, manipulative scumbag who not only caused you suffering but also sought to selfishly acquire your family’s company. Therefore, he wasn’t considered a threat.

Alright, then. Since Toji genuinely wasn’t a threat to your current emotional state, you agreed to talk with him. It was the first time you had seen the not-so-confident side of Toji Zen’in. He was typically a man of virtue, often holding his chin high, offering the best advice, and having insightful perspectives on life. However, it seemed you had shattered that confidence in him. You could sense his cautiousness around you as he stood by your side in the ER, assisting you with your needs, and eventually agreeing to your request to walk you to the rooftop garden.

“I don’t really think there’s anything else we should talk about.” It was you who first broke the silence, staring at the cityscape while sitting on a wheelchair. The calm breeze allowed your mind to seize the moment with a peaceful mind. “I already heard what you had to say.”

Toji found it better to kneel down in front of you to meet your eyes as he spoke to you in a sincere and earnest voice. “Y/N, I was drunk when I said all that shit back there. I didn’t mean them. I didn’t mean to hurt you with my callous words, and I feel awful that you had to hear them from me. You trusted me. You sought comfort from me. I wasn’t thinking like a normal person when those things came out of my mouth.”

“That doesn’t mean they weren’t true,” you replied with quiet resignation. It was the acceptance in your face that seemed to have caused Toji’s heartbroken gaze. “It’s okay, Toji. I think, when you said all those things, it actually made me realize some aspects of our relationship that had to be addressed. It made me more self-aware and it opened my eyes on the bigger picture.” You touched his hand, giving it a comforting squeeze as you mustered the courage to speak your next words. “It’s for the best that we part ways. It’s not fair to me to become a placeholder for your wife the same way it isn’t fair to you to have to deal with my ex-husband always being present in my life. Our unresolved feelings won’t really be resolved by being together.”

“Y/N…” Toji’s voice hinted at his vulnerable emotions, though he restrained himself from showing it fully. And you didn’t miss the apologetic look he had presented to you. “Despite all that, I hope you know that I’d been true to you. I do love you and will always love you. I’ll always be someone you can rely on, someone you can seek comfort from, someone you can turn to when you need help…”

Damn it. Why did he have to make it sound like an actual break up? Now, it tugged at your heartstrings and hit you in a place it shouldn’t have. You weren’t good at these things and it certainly was your first time dealing with such a mature and mutual separation, but wasn’t that a good thing? No further drama was to happen, leaving a stark comparison to your separation with Satoru. While this one didn’t hurt as much, it still brought a hollow feeling in your chest.

“Same for me,” you agreed, displaying a weak smile. “You’ll always have a spot in my heart, Toji. I’ll always be grateful that I met you.”

Sometimes, two people didn’t need to be together to love each other. Friendships could still thrive between ex-lovers, and that was why closure was so important. It not only closed a certain chapter of your life in a healthy way, but also allowed you to heal and open yourselves to a new beginning without any bitterness left behind.

It shouldn’t be considered bad to remain friends with an ex. It also shouldn’t be bad to give a parting kiss from said ex, right?

You weren’t the one who initiated it, after all. It was Toji’s hand that gently stroked your cheek. It was him, who leaned forward and pressed his lips onto yours. It wasn’t forceful, but neither was it passionate. It was simply a tender kiss of goodbye, feeling the warmth of each other’s lips for one last time before you two would transition from being lovers to friends. What you didn’t understand from this supposedly bittersweet moment was the faint tears that somehow managed to escape your eyes, perhaps because you knew that once Toji left, you would be alone again.

You had no one by your side to love you, cherish you, choose you, and offer their entire world for you. You were meant to live this cruel world all by yourself.

As he pulled away, he pressed his forehead against yours. “Please learn to love yourself before anyone else, Y/N. It’s what you need and what you deserve.”

That night, while you were getting your MRI, your mind kept flying to the possibilities of a future without having anyone by your side. Any normal person would tell you to focus on loving yourself first, as Toji did recently, focusing on what matters most, and ridding yourself of the toxic things that hinder you from moving forward with your life. Things weren’t as easy as they sounded. Besides, it was different being on the receiving end of the said advice. How could you do those things when the primary cause of your pain was someone whose life would always be linked to yours forever?

Based on the result of your MRI scans, your doctor recommended that you undergo elbow arthroscopy. It was just a minimally invasive procedure compared to open surgeries, but considering how much of an overthinker your dad was when it came to your health, he insisted on your confinement at the hospital until you had been completely cleared of any other issues. He really placed a big deal on your condition and emphasized to the doctors that they make sure nothing was missed. It could have been worse; you could have had a broken hip or a fractured leg, but at least you only had a dislocated elbow. Nothing that couldn’t be easily corrected by surgery and physical therapy.

The decision was for you to stay there for two days, and on your first night, a crying Sachiro ran inside your private room because his ‘mama has a boo boo’. Gen said he was picked up from daycare and dropped off at the hospital because the poor kid was looking for you. She didn’t mention who dropped your son off to you, but you could tell it was Satoru. You could sense it by the glances she exchanged with Ian after you asked how Sachiro came to the hospital.

So, in that case, Satoru must have found out about your little incident and didn’t care enough to see you. Did he not even have an ounce of care anymore? Or was it Gen who stopped him from seeing you?

“Did you ask him to leave?” you confronted Gen in a mellow voice, rubbing Sachiro’s back as he snuggled into you on the hospital bed.

Your sister knew exactly which man you were referring to, and she denied having done such. “No, I didn’t even talk to him. He took Sachi here and left.”

You didn’t know why you looked at Ian to confirm the truth of his wife’s words, but hurt yourself upon seeing his bowed head. It was an apologetic expression that did signify your ex-husband’s blatant act of ignoring you. To hear about your near-death experience and simply leave without even checking on you should be your wake-up call. He didn’t care anymore. No, why should he care? He had Akemi. His only responsibility with you was to be a supportive father to your son.

Why did the pain in your heart feel far more agonizing than the discomfort on your dislocated elbow?

If anything, you wanted to ask for the strongest anesthetic they could offer to numb your pain. You were desperate to have anything even if they had to put you into an eternal sleep. That would have been much easier to deal with than feeling disregarded by a person you supposedly had moved on from. Satoru did nothing wrong here. It was you who had that expectation, only to disappoint yourself when things didn’t happen as you imagined.

And just when you thought things would get better as long as you ignore your torturous thoughts, it didn’t help that being in the hospital kept giving you flashbacks of the time you were in this exact room, hearing Satoru crying helplessly from outside and begging for you not to terminate his child. What comes around certainly goes back around. Or worse.

Such depressive thoughts had you occupied throughout your stay there, and your unusual placidness alarmed the nurses instead of being assured that you were doing well. You heard your doctors telling your father and sister to always keep a close eye on you as the incident may not seem serious, but the trauma would undoubtedly be present somewhere and somehow. Were they aware? Of your intrusive thoughts of wanting to hurt yourself?

The elbow arthroscopy was successful and by the second day, you were free to go home. You were placed on certain medications to help with the swelling and the pain, and while you were walking around the hospital with a listless mind, you happened to pass by the Obstetrics and Gynecology Department. What a deja vu it was, remembering the time you had seen Satoru there waiting outside for Sera. Back then, it was one of the climactic events in your life that led to a domino effect on the downfall of your marriage. Not that you were reminiscing, but it did remind you that Shoko was probably there in her consultation room and it would be nice to talk to a friend who had witnessed the wild history of your marriage.

You asked Gen to wait for you in the car while you headed to Ieiri’s consultation room, assuring your visibly worried sister that everything was fine and that you wouldn’t take too long. You had to give Gen some slack, because despite the strains in your relationship as sisters, she was still always there for you. At the end of the day, she was family.

Shoko, on the other hand, was the next closest thing you had for a sister. She welcomed you inside her room in a very worried embrace, telling you that if she had known about the incident, she would have gone straight to your hospital room on your first day, but you told her not to worry about it and understood that being in the medical field already had her schedule tight.

“Well, I guess it’s perfect that you’re here, too.” Shoko smiled warmly, sitting behind her desk. She had exciting news to offer, it seemed. “I just wanna say that… of course, I’ll still be sending you a formal invitation and everything. I actually have a few gifts along with it.”

You shared her enthusiasm. “Hmm… is it what I think it is?”

The wedding. The most eventful day of her life would be arriving soon and you were the first one to hear it.

“Yes!” she answered, with the utmost joy coruscating from her eyes. “I want you to be my maid-of-honor, Y/N. I’d be extremely happy if you could make it. I know you just got into an accident, but it won’t be until two months, so—”

“Hey, it’s okay.” You eased her worries by chuckling. “I’m completely fine, of course I’ll be there. I can’t miss it.”

Shoko was grateful to hear your answer, relieved even, because by asking you to be her maid-of-honor, you should already understand who Suguru’s best man would be. That was a touchy subject for you and she was keenly aware of it, but you didn’t want her to worry. You didn’t want your relationship with your ex-husband to have a negative impact on the relationship of all the other people surrounding the both of you. It was already bad enough that Shoko and Suguru almost called off their engagement after they fought over their morals as you and Satoru’s friends, and you were glad that they somehow made things work. They somehow set aside their disagreements and ultimately chose their love over anything else.

Their love was beautiful, and while that wasn’t something you could easily have, it was something you deeply admired.

“Where are you guys planning to hold your wedding?” you asked, steering the conversation away from any mention of your ex-husband. “Here or overseas?”

She delighted you with her answer, sounding as if this was the perfect wedding she had always dreamed of. “It’s an intimate wedding on the lakeside. Suguru chose the location, actually, since he wanted our wedding to have the view of Mount Fuji.”

“That’s perfect,” you said with wide eyes. “Lake Kawaguchiko?”

“Yep. That’s exactly where it’d be.” She smiled with her eyes. “You know this resort… Hoshinoya Fuji? We already booked the place, and we have a luxury cabin for friends and families to stay at.”

You had been there before, but you were too young to remember. All you knew was that it was a high-end resort that had the best panoramic views of Lake Kawaguchiko and Mount Fuji. The hotel owner was also a close friend of the Gojou family, so that was probably why they were able to rent the entire place for the wedding, especially at a peak season for tourists.

Since the fall season was arriving, you could only imagine the stunning views of the autumn foliage there. It offered the perfect weather, too. It wouldn’t be as hot as summer, nor as freezing as winter. Surely, it would be nice to do some nature walks and stargazing, maybe ride a boat or bathe in a hot spring. You looked forward to it, except for the fact that your ex-husband would also be there.

And just what a perfect timing it was, because as Shoko sorted through her patients' medical records above her desk, a file slipped from the pile, revealing the name of your very friend, Akemi.

“Oh,” Shoko murmured apologetically as she retrieved the record, not wanting to ruin the mood of your conversation. “She, uh, came by a few days ago... with Gojou.”

You didn’t need to ask. You didn’t need to hear any further detail. Akemi’s visit likely revolved around her desire to conceive, as she wouldn’t have visited Shoko otherwise. Why? If it were simply to monitor her polycystic ovary, why did she choose Shoko instead of her own gynecologist? Thinking of how your ex-husband and best friend were attempting to start a family together left your heart shattered in unimaginable pieces, stirring up painful memories of your pathetic marriage with Satoru and reopening old wounds you thought had already healed from. Wasn’t it ironic that a couple of years ago, you were crying over the same situation with Sera?

You couldn’t stand this feeling anymore. You thought you had already freed yourself from the pain of loving him, yet here you were suffering from the same heartbreak over and over and over again. Tears threatened to spill, but you held them back, the ache in your chest too raw to confront just yet.

“It’s funny.” Although you displayed an outward smile, the sadness in your voice reflected your otherwise inward thoughts. You didn’t know why you said that. You were just too… too emotional. Almost like you couldn’t breathe. “He was never this passionate with me. They seem so in love.”

Ieiri’s eyes carried sisterly concern in them. “Y/N, it’s not really what you think.”

Was it? You weren’t sure what to feel anymore. You certainly weren't there to hear it anymore, either. Satoru chose her, just like what you wanted for him to do. Just like what you asked him to do. He had moved on, he had found someone who would love him for who he was, he had chosen the woman he would share the rest of his future with. Call yourself ridiculous for even feeling hurt about it, because you had no right to be and you definitely chose this. Either you own up to it, or you cry about it for the rest of your life.

Both choices had no happy endings.

— —

When Satoru learned about your incident in the woods, he thought he was going to lose his mind.

Was it out of love that he swiftly left the office in the middle of a meeting just to get to where you were?

He still had to pick up Sachiro from daycare, and he felt bad telling his son on the way to the hospital that his mother was hurt. It actually gave Satoru a hard time explaining to the 3-year old that they had to go to the hospital because his mommy was there and that she had an unfortunate encounter while riding a horse.

“Dada, is… is mama okay?” Sachiro pouted with wide, tearful eyes as he clung to his father’s hand. “Sachi wants to go to mama!”

“She’ll be okay, Sachi.” Gojou carried his son and soothed him as they went inside the hospital, searching for you. “Mommy’s strong, remember?”

Was it out of love that he wanted to be the person that brought your son to you when you most needed him?

According to the nurse, your room was on the seventh floor, but when he got there, your room was empty. It was Ian who told him that you went up the rooftop garden to get some fresh air, insisting that if Satoru wanted to go and talk to you, that it was best to leave Sachiro with them.

And so he did. He ran hastily, almost out of breath, until he reached the rooftop, scanning every face within the vicinity until his tired blue eyes finally landed on you.

Satoru laughed in disbelief. He scoffed bitterly, with each breath full of disgust. The tips of his fingers felt cold, while his breathing grew thin and ragged. He could feel his stomach clenching at the humiliation of seeing you engaged in an intimate make-out session with Toji Zen’in.

How sickeningly sweet.

At that point, he was laughing at his own expense, ignoring the elderly lady who looked at him like he was a crazy person. He stood there frozen for a few minutes, watching you kiss another man before it finally woke him up from reality.

It was out of love that he let you go.

You see? This was where his attachment to you would lead him. It was pure and unreasonable selfishness, but he would gain nothing at all from even seeing you. He didn’t need to care for you at all, no. You had Toji. You seemed to be goddamn happy with your life with Toji. And what a romantic fucking moment that was, too.

Satoru couldn’t think straight when he hurriedly left the hospital and got inside his car. He desperately wanted to forget the painful image of you locking lips with somebody else. How? How would he? Fuck! He was mad, mad at himself for choosing to come to your aid like he still had any role in your life. He was disgusted at himself for ignoring Akemi’s calls after promising her a movie date after work. He couldn’t believe he had her waiting all by herself in that cinema, waiting for him to come while he was stupidly running around the hospital to see his ex-wife.

You chose Toji, then you better be happy. Satoru hoped you were happy, and that wish came from a place of genuineness. He genuinely hoped the best for you. Because for him, it was time to fully let go and stop himself from trying to be the superhero whenever you were in danger. You weren’t his wife anymore.

So, was it out of love that he headed straight to Akemi’s apartment that night with a bouquet of red roses?

She didn’t know what happened nor was she given the full detail as to why he unintentionally stood her up on their date night. He had just briefly explained that he had to drop Sachiro off to you at a hospital because you got into a small accident. Akemi, being your friend, got immediately worried upon hearing the situation and asked if Satoru was able to check on you.

He said no. He said Toji was there. He said he left as soon as dropped Sachiro off.

And in an effort to apologize for not paying attention to the current woman in his life, Satoru pulled Akemi in a tight embrace. He held her in her arms, drunk from the sweet and citrusy notes of her perfume, before pulling away to kiss her. He kissed her with the same passion as you did with Toji. Perhaps even more, even better. He completely devoured her lips, with a hand on her cheek and the other on her waist. The taste of her tongue was sweet like strawberries, while her lips were red like cherries.

This woman was all he needed.

But was this love? He didn’t know. It was too soon to tell, too early to answer, too hasty to even consider.

— —

The current situation you were in reminded you of your younger self after your mother had died. It was the same before; you never left the house, often locking yourself in your room, shutting yourself off from the world, and drowning yourself with the pain and loneliness of losing somebody important.

Sure, no one really died for you to be acting this way right now, but the feeling was still the same. Was this really a comeuppance to all of your wrongdoings before? But just how terrible were you of a person to be hit by this unbelievable truckload of sorrow? You might as well spur on the physical pains of your angina again if this torment continued. Otherwise, how else do you avoid it?

You were being a terrible mother, too. You were too engrossed by your own misery that you couldn’t even properly take care of Sachiro. He didn’t deserve to have an incompetent and irresponsible mother like you. He deserves someone better, someone like Akemi, who not only has all the motherly traits a woman should have, but also the physical and mental capacity of being a true, strong woman.

Sachiro was bound to have that, anyway. Now that his father was planning his lifelong journey with another woman, and now that he was trying to build a happy family with her, you were no longer needed in the picture. There was no need for you.

How many more times would you tell that you have accepted it?

Because, god be damned, you knew you couldn’t. You knew you were lying to yourself when you said everything was fine, lying to Satoru when you told him you didn’t need him in your life anymore, lying to Toji for telling him that you wanted to marry him, lying to Akemi that you didn’t care if she was seeing your ex-husband, and lying to Sachiro when you promised to him that you would never leave his side. You were a liar. A terrible liar. A pitiful, terrible liar.

How would you tell the universe that you couldn’t take it anymore? That, for once, you wanted to be showered by happiness and all the good things in life?

Sera was right. Not everyone could have it all. There were people of lesser fortune who weren’t blessed to live a lavish life like you, yet still work hard to achieve what they want. Why couldn't you achieve your own happiness without blaming it on the universe? If this was simply a lesson, then weren’t you the top student at this rate?

God. God, help me. You really didn’t know how to deal with this life anymore. You weren’t sure how to proceed. You couldn’t rely on anything other than the bottle of alcohol on your hand—what was once full was now half empty after you took another swig. This was your second bottle already, wasn’t it? Or third?

You got up from the floor and failed to walk in a straight line as you made your way towards the balcony. Your steps were unsteady, wavering like a leaf caught in a gentle breeze. With each attempt to move forward, your body swayed from side to side, struggling to maintain balance. You almost lost grip of the bottle you were holding. No, it did, in fact, slip from your hand and ended up crashing into the floor. Shards of glass lay across the ground, ready to pierce the soles of your feet to mirror the same physical pain your heart was experiencing.

“Stop,” you muttered under your breath, begging for your chest to stop hurting. But it only worsened, and your antidote to that was to wash it down with even more liquor. No matter how expensive it was, you didn’t even like the taste of alcohol. You hated the sting on your throat whenever you drank it. You despised the bitterness it left on your tongue. However, it did great at numbing your emotions.

It just felt wrong in many ways that you were seeing Satoru’s face whenever you closed your eyes. You could see his smile, his loving eyes, his beautiful lips. You missed his embrace, his kiss, his touch. You missed hearing his I love you’s. Him. You missed him. You yearned for him. Three goddamn years, and you were still undeniably in love with him.

“Satoru…” you cried, sitting on the floor. Each breath made it harder and harder for you to catch as tears continued to stream down your face. You were tired of pretending, denying that you no longer had feelings for him when you knew deep down that you would always choose him. “S-Satoru… come back to me, please.”

Was it him coming inside your room? Or was it your vision making a fool out of you?

“Baby, what are you doing?” Satoru’s expression was engulfed in immense worry as he knelt down and reached out to you, touching your cheek and looking at your eyes somberly. “Don’t do this yourself, Y/N.”

Your head hung low, your gaze unfocused and glazed, as you fought to keep your eyes on the path ahead. You had to reach him. You wanted to touch him, hug him. And despite your best efforts, your movements were disjointed and erratic, betraying the effects of the alcohol coursing through your veins.

“Y/N, that’s enough.” Gen had to use force just to be able to snatch the bottle away from you, forcing you to wake up to the reality where Satoru no longer existed to be there for you. It was her who came rushing inside your room in the middle of the night. The bottle of liquor was now spilled all over the floor. The same could be described with your emotions. “Get it together. You haven’t been acting like yourself lately!”

You couldn’t, even if you wanted to. You were in delirium after having dealt with all the terrible things the world had thrown at you. If you couldn’t drown yourself in alcohol, how else would you have been able to numb the pain? How else would you have been able to… forget?

As much as your sister tried to hide the obvious sympathy in her voice, even your drunken mind could recognize it. “We all know you’re going down the depression lane again, but never to this extent.” Her voice cracked in the middle of her sentence, cradling you into her arms as a tear fell down her face. The Gen who would usually lecture you, was now holding you in her arms as her only baby sister. “Stop this, Y/N, please. Don’t ruin your life the second time. I-It’s hurting me. It’s hurting Dad. Do you… do you realize what Sachiro’s gonna think of you when he sees you like this?”

“Gen…” Muffled sobs unwillingly came out of you, leaving you with such excruciating pain in the chest, so much so that it didn’t even feel like you had done surgery to fix your (quite literally) broken heart. “I w-want him back,” you continued to cry, “I want my husband back. I want to be with h-him, Gen.”

“Y/N.”

“Where’s S-Satoru…? D-Did he leave? Please take me to him—”

“Y/N, listen to me.” She gently cupped your cheeks, forcing you to look at her pained eyes. “You’re intoxicated. He was never here, and he’d never come for you. You have to let it go.”

“But—”

“He’s not good for you. He never will be.”

— —

It had been two weeks since Satoru last heard about you. Miwa was the one who updated him that you had already returned to your family’s mansion, letting him know that you were okay and that you were recovering well. Frankly, Satoru was starting to get annoyed at the fact that his secretary was still giving him updates about you. What did he care? He wasn’t your husband anymore.

Besides, Toji was probably visiting you every day, so why did he have to worry about you? If there was anyone he should be worried about, it was Akemi. She had been experiencing terrible pelvic cramps lately, which needed to be given serious attention, but you would never see her being dramatic about it. The only thing she needed was for Gojou to accompany her visits to the OB-GYN, and even then, she never showered herself in self-pity. She carried herself like an independent woman, and that was exactly what Satoru needed in his life right now.

He had a son to raise. He had a company to run. It wasn’t the perfect time to commit himself to someone lawfully. Heck, he didn’t even believe in marriage anymore. He realized that two people could still love each other without getting married. As long as Akemi didn’t pressure him about such things, he was fine with having her around. She didn’t ask for anything much, anyway.

As for you, well…

“What are you planning with that mansion you gifted Y/N?” asked Nanami, seated on the couch inside Satoru’s office, casually reading a newspaper. “Do you even remember that?”

He certainly did. “What about it?” he questioned, idly toying with a pen on his desk. “It’s her property now. She can sell it if she wants.”

Better yet, you should let Sachiro inherit the property someday. His son was already set for a life of privilege having wealthy parents on both sides, but wouldn’t the mansion be a substantial addition to his assets in the future? Satoru couldn’t help but envision the kind of man his son would grow up into. He hoped Sachiro would not inherit his father's immaturity and pettiness but would embody the kindness and altruism of his mother. From a business perspective, however, Satoru planned to groom his son to be a leader, as he was the sole heir to the Gojou Group. Additionally, he would also inherit half of Creston and the entirety of Hearte. No wonder Sachiro was recently listed as the wealthiest kid by Forbes Japan. He even beat Megumi Zen’in from the list even though the teenager was the heir of the Zen’in business empire.

These were the thoughts that should consume Satoru—the future, not the past. His kid, not you. And he was right about doing so, because when he came home to his penthouse, he was told that he had a visitor.

A visitor on a Wednesday afternoon?

Your brother-in-law, the esteemed prosecutor who sent his evil stepmother to jail, appeared on his front door, carrying Sachiro in his arms. It was hard to tell what type of emotions were visible on the man’s face, but he definitely didn’t bring any good news.

“Ian?” Satoru promptly made way for the man to come in, ushering him into the penthouse and allowing him to set Sachiro down. The young boy was quick to dart off to his playroom, leaving the two men in an uncomfortable silence. “What’s going on? Weekends are usually my schedule with Sachi.”

Ian cleared his throat, a hand on his pocket. “Do you mind looking after Sachiro for the time being?”

By saying ‘for the time being’, it seemed like Ian wanted to actually say ‘until further notice.’ But that confused Satoru even more, because what was happening for the man to come here and ask him to let Sachiro stay beyond the agreed schedule with his father? He couldn’t read through Ian’s expression and it was making him uneasy.

“I can, but… why so suddenly?” Gojou asked, glancing at his oblivious son.

“It’s Y/N’s idea, Gen doesn’t know about it.” Ian released an awkward chuckle. “You know how my wife is.”

Gen would absolutely hate it, Satoru was aware for sure. Though the questions lingered in his mind. “Why would Y/N want Sachi to stay with me? Where’s she?”

Was it him or was Ian having a hard time explaining the situation? It felt like he was walking on eggshells, deciding between what had to be said and what shouldn’t. He was careful with his words when he spoke again, “Y/N flew to Monaco this morning and will be back when she’s ready. She says Sachiro should spend all of his time with you while she’s gone.”

Monaco? Why would you be there?

Confusion bathed Satoru’s eyes. “Is it for a fashion event or something?”

“No, she’s just…” Ian struggled heavily. “Well, to sum it up, she has to go there to sort some things out. It’s a personal thing, but she really needs this time for herself and we think it’s the best for her right now. I don’t know how long she’s gonna stay there or when she’ll be back, but I hope you understand what I’m trying to say here.”

No, he didn’t. Satoru found it difficult to fathom his ex-brother-in-law’s words, seeing as he had no general idea of what was truly going on. But if you were flying to Monaco, surely Toji wouldn’t allow you to go there all by yourself?

Ahh. It made sense now. I see what’s happening here.

Satoru’s lips curled into sarcasm. You would be vacationing with the love of your life. Is that what it was? Planning your halted wedding? Choosing wedding gowns? Looking for venues? There was no way you would be flying to Monaco alone, especially without Sachiro around when you two had been inseparable since his birth.

“What kinda mother is she?” Satoru muttered in disgust, unaware that Ian had overheard him. But Ian had heard loud and clear. How could you leave your son behind like this? Couldn’t you face your ex-husband to discuss it, instead of just dropping Sachiro off as if he were some unwanted toy?

“Hold it right there,” Ian interjected, becoming defensive at the accusation. “You have no idea what she’s going through.”

How would he know? No one was telling him shit. No one was giving him details, so did they expect him to understand things and accept them as they were? Did they do the same thing to Satoru when he was at the verge of losing his sanity asking everyone for forgiveness over and over?

“I've never taken sides between you two, Satoru, you know that,” Ian continued, trying to maintain a calm demeanor and speak with clear judgment, “But one thing I’m not gonna let you do is call Y/N a bad mother.”

Satoru’s chest tightened at Ian's words, a mixture of guilt and frustration bubbling up inside him. He knew he shouldn’t have spoken out of turn, but the pain and resentment were too raw to contain. It felt like you were abandoning him and your child, like you were off to a new chapter in your life again, and leaving everything behind. Perhaps this was his trauma from the New York thing crawling back at him, but it definitely reminded him of the day you had abandoned him. For three fucking years. How long would it take you to return now?

Why do you keep doing this? He was sick of it. You kept running away instead of talking to him. He gets it, people change, circumstances change, but couldn’t you at least have the decency to talk to him about it? Was it wrong for him to wish you’d handled this differently? To wish that you’d talked to him, involved him in the decision-making process, instead of just making this unilateral decision and leaving him to pick up the pieces?

Satoru took a moment, collecting his thoughts before continuing. “It’s fine, I’ll take care of Sachi,” he reassured, “I’ll take some time off work and have ‘Kemi help me out.”

He looked back at Ian, his eyes pleading for further details, for answers, for some semblance of clarity in the midst of this emotional turmoil.

Yet none of it was given.

And so, would it still be wrong to assume that he could now completely forget about you? That this opportunity to be with Sachiro would allow him a chance to share it with someone else? If you spent three years of your life playing house in New York with Toji, would it still be unfair for Satoru to do the same with Akemi?

#series: sincerely yours #gojo satoru x reader #gojou satoru x reader #gojo satoru x you #gojo x reader #jjk x reader #gojo angst #jjk angst

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helen-with-an-a · 14 days

Note

sucker for angst can I please request one where putellas!reader is the youngest and gets a heart attack on the field and mapi is the first one to do cpr (alexia is almost inconsolable) very angsty with comforting end

Hiiii - thank you so much for this, I loved writing it. I tried to keep the details of CPR to a minimum, but also I was a lifeguard for over 5 years, and being trained in CPR was essential in our work, so the CPR instructions are true and accurate. I hope that this might stick in someone's mind and should the worst ever happen, you mind be able to remember what to do.

Memory

Barça Femeni x Reader ; Alexia Putellas x sister!Reader

Description: Memory is a blessing and a curse when the Reader falls unconscious during a match

Content Warning: CPR, Medical issues, Illness

Word Count: 6.7k

Alexia prided herself on her memory. It was something she was exceptionally confident in, a skill that had always set her apart. Every little detail, from the exact dates of events to the clothes people were wearing, and even who said what, was meticulously catalogued in her mind.

She could never forget the day her world began to change, the day she first learned about you. Eleven-year-old Alexia was sitting cross-legged on the living room floor beside Alba both of them barely able to contain their excitement as Mami and Papi called them over. The room had an air of something important, something life-altering. And then, with a smile that Alexia could still see in her mind's eye, her mother gently placed a hand on her growing belly and told them the news. Frijolita, they said. A little bean. That’s what they called you before you even had a name. You were the baby who would soon complete their family, the littlest sister who would turn their duo into a trio. Alexia had felt a surge of excitement and responsibility all at once. The idea of having a new sibling was thrilling, but there was something deeper, an unspoken promise she made to herself to always look out for you.

The memory of your actual arrival was just as vivid. Alexia had just turned twelve, the birthday balloons still clinging to the walls of her room. It was the early hours of the morning when her Tío gently shook her awake, his voice hushed but full of excitement. "She's here," he whispered. She had leaped out of bed, her heart racing, and hurried to the hospital, the world outside still dark and quiet. The moment she saw you, bundled up and sleeping peacefully, she felt a connection so strong it was as if she had known you her entire life. You were tiny, fragile, yet perfect. She cried when she met you – the tears slipping down her cheeks as she pressed the gentlest of kisses to your forehead, promising that she would do anything to protect you.

As the years passed, you grew, and so did Alexia's collection of memories. She remembered a three-year-old you, all curiosity and energy, those wide hazel eyes – so much like hers – looking up at her with an innocent plea. You wanted to join her in the backyard as she practiced her skills, your small hands tugging at her shirt, your voice insistent. Despite your age, your determination was unwavering, and Alexia couldn’t resist. She let you chase after the ball, your laughter ringing through the air, a sound that still echoed in her heart.

Then there was the memory of a five-year-old you, stubborn as ever, refusing to be left out. You had clambered onto her lap with surprising force, your small arms wrapping around her as if you were afraid to let go. It was a day she could never forget – your mother sitting on the couch, tears streaming down her face, her heart breaking over your father. The room was heavy with grief, but you, in your innocent determination, had climbed into Alexia's lap as if she could shield you from the sadness, as if being close to her would make everything better. And in that moment, Alexia held you tightly, whispering reassurances she wasn’t even sure of herself. You had looked up at her with those same hazel eyes, filled with trust, and she had made another silent promise – to be the strongest she could, to be strong for you, even when the world around them seemed to be falling apart.

You were ten when you nearly broke her front door down one Saturday afternoon, bursting into the house with a flurry of excitement and noise that filled every corner. The commotion you caused was so overwhelming that it convincingly distracted her from the anger and confusion that had first crossed her mind. She had been startled by the loud banging, wondering who could be causing such a ruckus, but all of that was forgotten the moment she saw you.

"They want me! They want me!" you shouted, your voice echoing through the house as you ran from room to room, barely able to contain your excitement. Nala was just as caught up in the moment, barking and dancing around your feet as if she, too, understood the magnitude of what was happening. You were like a whirlwind, full of energy and joy, and it took a full thirty minutes before you could calm down enough to finally show her the papers you had been clutching so tightly.

When she saw the bold lettering at the top – FC Barcelona La Masia – her heart skipped a beat. Barcelona wanted you. Her little sister, the one she had watched grow and develop her skills with relentless passion, had been noticed by one of the most prestigious football institutions in the world. It was more than a dream come true; it was a validation of all the hard work, all the sacrifices, and all the moments of doubt you had overcome.

As you stood there, beaming with pride, she felt a rush of emotions – pride, joy, and an overwhelming sense of love. This wasn’t just about football; this was about you stepping into a world that would shape your future. And it wasn’t just you – both of you were going to be a part of this journey. The Putellas sisters, together, taking on Barcelona one football game at a time. The thought of the two of you, side by side, wearing the Blaugrana that meant so much to both of you, filled her with an unshakable sense of pride.

But that was just the beginning.

You were sixteen when the next milestone came, a moment that felt like a leap forward in your already impressive journey. You were asked to join the First Team for training. The First Team – the very thought of it was overwhelming. These were players you had idolised, professionals whose skills you had studied and admired. Your sister and all her friends. And now, at just sixteen, you were being invited to train alongside them, to learn from them, to be a part of the team you had dreamed of since you were a little girl kicking a ball around in the backyard.

She remembered how nervous you were that day, how you had paced around the house, trying to hide the anxiety that had crept up alongside your excitement. But she knew you better than anyone, and she could see it in your eyes—the mix of fear and determination that drove you. You were stepping into a new world, one where the stakes were higher, the expectations greater. But she also knew that if anyone was ready for this challenge, it was you.

Then, at seventeen, the dream became even more real. You signed your official first-team contract, a moment that felt both surreal and inevitable. She could still picture the moment when you put pen to paper, your hands steady despite the weight of the moment. This was what you had worked for, what you had sacrificed so much for. It was a culmination of years of dedication, of early mornings and late nights, of triumphs and setbacks. And as you looked up at her, holding that contract in your hands, she saw the same determination in your eyes that had always been there, but now there was something more – confidence, pride, and the knowledge that this was only the beginning.

Mapi also prides herself on her memories. While she might not hold onto every detail with the same intensity as Alexia, she has a knack for remembering the important things, the moments that matter most. And among those cherished memories, the first time she met you stands out vividly, a snapshot in time that she can recall with remarkable clarity.

You were eleven, full of youthful energy and wide-eyed excitement, attending one of Alexia's international matches. It was a big day for your sister, but it was just as important for you. You had always looked up to Alexia, admiring her talent and determination, and now you were there to witness her shine on an international stage, surrounded by the vibrant atmosphere of the stadium.

Mapi remembers seeing you for the first time as you stood by your Mami in the crowd, almost bouncing on your toes with anticipation. Your Mami was talking to someone behind you – another mother of one of the players probably. But your eyes were glued to the pitch. Even at that young age, there was something about you that caught her attention. Maybe it was the way your eyes sparkled with excitement, or the way you clung to every word and action as if trying to absorb everything at once. Or perhaps it was the unmistakable resemblance to Alexia, not just in your features but in the determination and passion that radiated from you. There was a quiet intensity in your gaze, a seriousness beyond your years, as if you understood the gravity of the moment.

As the match played on, Mapi found herself glancing over at you more than once. She was struck by how engaged you were, how you seemed to be analysing every play, every movement on the field, as if you were learning from it, storing it away for future use. It wasn’t just a game to you; it was a lesson, an opportunity to understand what it took to play at the highest level. And even though you were just a kid, Mapi could see that same spark in you that had driven Alexia to greatness.

After the match, when the excitement had calmed down and the players were mingling with friends and family, Mapi finally had the chance to meet you. She remembers how you were practically glowing with pride as you stood beside your sister, your eyes wide with admiration, her name emblazoned across your back. When Alexia introduced you, Mapi couldn’t help but smile at the way you looked up at her, a mix of shyness and awe in your expression. You were polite, a little reserved, but there was no mistaking the respect and admiration you held for her as one of your sister's teammates.

That first meeting was brief, just a few words exchanged, but it left a lasting impression on Mapi. She saw the potential in you, the same drive that had made Alexia a star. There was no doubt in her mind that you were destined for something great, that you would follow in your sister’s footsteps and make your own mark in the world of football. Even then, at just eleven years old, it was clear that you had the heart of a champion.

She also remembered the shy, yet quietly determined 16-year-old who showed up to training for the first time. You had arrived at the training grounds with an air of nervous excitement. You kept glancing across to Alexia, like a child looking back to their mother, for reassurance and support.

The first thing Mapi noticed was your outfit – specifically, the training top you were wearing. It was unmistakably Alexia’s, and it was about three sizes too big for you. The sleeves fell well past your elbows, and the hem completely covered your shorts, but there was something endearing about the way you wore it. It was as if you were carrying a piece of your sister’s legacy with you, a tangible connection to the one who had inspired you to reach this point. It spoke of the bond between you and Alexia, a silent acknowledgment of the footsteps you were following.

Despite the oversized top and the nerves that were probably churning in your stomach, there was a quiet determination in your eyes. Mapi could see it the moment you stepped onto the pitch – a hair tie securing the loose fabric behind you – your focus laser-sharp, your mind set on one thing: proving yourself. There was no hesitation in your movements, no sign of the intimidation that so often accompanies a young player stepping into a world filled with seasoned professionals. You might have been shy off the field, but on it, you were something else entirely.

As the drills began, it quickly became apparent that you were no ordinary 16-year-old. The way you passed the ball, with skill and precision that belied your age, caught everyone’s attention. Each touch was deliberate, controlled, executed with an almost instinctual understanding of the game. Your technique was flawless, the kind that only comes from years of practice and a deep, innate love for the sport. Mapi watched as you moved through the drills with ease, your focus unbroken, your determination shining through with every pass, every turn, every sprint.

Mapi couldn’t help but feel a surge of pride as she watched you. She had always known you had talent, but seeing you in action, seeing the way you handled yourself on the pitch, was something else entirely. You weren’t just Alexia’s little sister anymore; you were a force in your own right, a player who was ready to carve out her own path, to make her own name in the world of football.

That first day of training was a glimpse into your future, a future that was clearly bright and full of promise. Mapi knew, as did everyone who watched you that day, that you were destined for greatness. You had the skill, the determination, and the heart of a champion. And even in that oversized training top, you stood tall, a young player on the brink of something extraordinary.

You stood behind your sister in the tunnel. the familiar hum of the stadium echoing around you, the distant roar of the crowd growing louder with each passing second. It was a ritual at this point—Alexia, Cata, you. The three of you always lined up in that order, a reassuring familiarity that helped ease the anxiety before every match. The tunnel was a place of anticipation, where the nerves were almost palpable, but this small routine gave you a sense of calm, a reminder that you were exactly where you were meant to be.

As you stood there, your heart thumping with adrenaline, you glanced down at the back of your shirt. Alexia’s name, which had once been proudly emblazoned there during your younger years, was now replaced with your own. It was a symbol of how far you’d come, a marker of your journey from being the little sister who idolised her sibling to becoming a player in your own right. Seeing your name, bold and unmistakable, brought a swell of pride. It was a reminder of the hard work, the sacrifices, and the countless hours of training that had brought you to this moment.

The tunnel, though dimly lit, was alive with energy. Your teammates around you were focused, their faces set with determination. You could hear the steady breathing of Cata in front of you, the way she subtly bounced on the balls of her feet, ready to charge onto the field. And just ahead of her was Alexia, your constant source of inspiration. Even without seeing her face, you could sense her confidence, her leadership. She was the captain, not just in title but in every action, every word. Knowing she was right there, just a step ahead, gave you the reassurance you needed.

It was a typical day in Barcelona—the sun was shining, casting a warm golden glow over everything, and the familiar smell of the sea lingered on the breeze. The city was alive with its usual rhythm, but for you, time seemed to slow as you stepped onto the pitch, crossing yourself in a ritual that had become second nature. Your movements were perfectly synchronised with Alexia’s, a mirror image of the routine you both had followed for years. It was more than just a habit; it was a connection, a shared moment of focus, reminding yourselves of who you were doing this for as the game began.

There had always been a running joke among your friends, family, and even the fans that you, Alexia, and Alba were practically identical – three sisters, a true copy and paste of your parents. From your mother’s eyes to your father’s smile, the resemblance was uncanny. Growing up, it was something you’d heard often, especially whenever the three of you were together. But now, as you stood on the pitch, it was even more apparent.

You had begun to shed the baby fat in your cheeks, your features sharpening into a striking reflection of your sister’s. Your jawline had become more defined, your cheekbones more pronounced, and the athletic build you had worked so hard to develop was now unmistakable. With every passing day, the similarities between you and Alexia grew more evident, not just in appearance but in the way you carried yourself – your poise, your determination, and your unyielding focus on the game.

It was at halftime when you started to feel a little funny, a subtle sensation that crept up on you without warning. You hadn’t really noticed anything was off until Jana, always quick with a joke, pointed it out. “Hey, you look like you just ran a marathon,” she teased, nudging you playfully. “Might need a change of shirt during the break, unless you’re trying to start a new trend.”

You laughed it off, brushing her comment aside with a grin. But as you walked off the pitch and toward the locker room, you couldn’t ignore the nagging discomfort that was beginning to settle in. Your shirt clung to your skin, drenched with sweat in a way that felt excessive, even for the intensity of the match. The usual rush of adrenaline that kept you focused seemed to be fading, replaced by a heavy, sluggish feeling that you couldn’t quite shake.

Inside the locker room, the atmosphere was buzzing with the usual energy. Teammates were talking strategy, rehydrating, and catching their breath, but you found yourself moving slower than usual, your head feeling slightly foggy. You tried to shake it off, chalking it up to nerves or maybe just the heat of the day, but there was a small voice in the back of your mind that told you something wasn’t quite right.

As you sat down on the bench, you reached for your water bottle, hoping that a good drink would clear the haze. The plastic felt cool against your palm, but your grip was looser than it should have been, as if your fingers weren’t quite responding the way you wanted them to. You took a long sip, letting the water flow down your throat, but it didn’t do much to shake the growing sense of unease that was settling in your chest.

Alexia, always in tune with your every move, noticed the slight frown on your face as you lowered the bottle. She had been watching you closely, her instincts kicking in the moment she saw the unusual look in your eyes. She knew you better than anyone—better than you sometimes knew yourself—and it didn’t take much for her to sense that something wasn’t right.

“Everything okay, Frijolita?” she asked, her voice soft, casual, but with that unmistakable undertone of concern. She wasn’t asking as your captain, with the authority and responsibility that title carried. No, this was your big sister speaking, the one who had looked out for you from the moment you were born, who had always been there to protect you, guide you, and make sure you were okay. The nickname, a tender reminder of your childhood, held a warmth that made you feel safe, even in moments like this when you didn’t feel quite yourself.

“Yeah, I’m fine, Malvavisco,” you replied quickly, forcing a smile that you hoped would reassure her. The nickname you used for her – a playful nod to her sweet and soft side, despite her tough exterior – was meant to lighten the mood, to show her that you were okay, that you could handle this. “Just a bit more tired than usual, I guess.”

But even as the words left your mouth, you knew they didn’t quite fit. “Tired” wasn’t the right description for what you were feeling. It was something deeper, more unsettling. There was a heaviness in your limbs that didn’t belong there, a dull ache that seemed to radiate from your muscles, as if they were protesting against some unseen force. And then there was that strange warmth, an unnatural heat that didn’t seem to come from the usual exertion of the game. It was like your body was trying to tell you something, sending signals that you didn’t fully understand yet.

Alexia didn’t miss a beat. “Mm hm, keep drinking, little and often, okay?” she said, her tone gentle but firm. It was clear she wasn’t entirely convinced by your reassurances, and she wasn’t about to let you brush this off. She knew you too well for that. Her words carried a quiet insistence, a way of saying that she was watching you, that she was here for you no matter what.

You nodded, taking another sip of water, the cool liquid doing little to soothe the unease that was gnawing at you. You wanted to push through it, to tell yourself that it was just a momentary blip, that you’d be fine once the second half started. But the truth was, you weren’t sure. The heaviness in your limbs, the trembling in your hands, the warmth that didn’t seem to belong—they were all telling you that this wasn’t something you could just ignore. You would get it checked after the match.

Alexia and Mapi both curse their memories now, those sharp, unforgiving recollections that refuse to fade with time. What once had been a source of pride – a keen sense of recall that allowed them to remember every crucial play, every victory, every shared moment of joy on and off the pitch – had turned into something they wished they could escape. Now, their memories played on a relentless loop, like an unwanted movie they couldn’t pause, rewind, or fast-forward through. It was always there, lurking in the quiet moments, ready to spring to life when they least expected it.

For Alexia, her memory was a double-edged sword. She had always relied on it to guide her through matches, to anticipate her opponent’s next move, to recall every piece of advice from her coaches. But now, it betrayed her, forcing her to relive that day over and over again. She could see it all so clearly – the way the sunlight had filtered through the stadium, the way your face had looked so determined, so focused. And then, the way it had changed, how you had suddenly seemed smaller, paler, as if the very life was draining out of you in front of her eyes. She cursed her memory for making her relive that moment when she first realised something was wrong, the gnawing sense of dread that had settled in her gut, the helplessness that had gripped her as she watched you struggle.

Mapi, too, was haunted by the vividness of her recollections. She had always prided herself on her ability to remember the important things – the strategies, the nuances of her teammates’ styles, the camaraderie they shared. But now, her memory was a tormentor, dragging her back to that moment when everything had shifted. She could still hear the way the crowd’s cheers had faded into a dull roar in her ears, the way the world had seemed to narrow down to the sight of you, struggling to stand, your hands trembling, your breath laboured. It was as if time had slowed, trapping her in that scene, unable to do anything but watch in horror.

They both cursed the vividness of those memories, the way they intruded on their thoughts without warning. It wasn’t just the images that haunted them – the sight of you unsteady on your feet, the trainer rushing to your side, the way the game had suddenly become unimportant in the face of what was happening – it was the emotions that came flooding back with them. The fear, the panic, the desperate hope that you would be okay, and the crushing reality that followed. Those feelings were as raw now as they were then, refusing to dull with time.

You dropped like a bag of bricks. Like a marionette with its strings cut. Like a stack of Jenga blocks being knocked to the ground. One moment you were standing, the next, you were a heap on the floor. You were lucky in some sense. You had no memory of that moment. You felt unwell, your heart was racing too fast, an uncomfortable pressure sitting on your chest. And then nothing. Blackness. Emptiness.

In that blackness, time seemed to lose its meaning. Seconds could have stretched into hours, or minutes might have slipped by in the blink of an eye. The blackness was absolute, a quiet, oppressive void that seemed to hold its breath along with you. It was an eerie calm; it was peaceful but unsettling. It shouldn’t be this calm. It was game day – game days were never this calm.

Outside of the blackness, it was anything but calm. Mapi had been the closest to you. She heard your sharp intake of breath. She had seen the way you crumpled like a house of cards. She tasted the iron in her mouth as she dropped beside you.

Mapi had never been more grateful for her memory in that moment. She hadn’t wanted to attend the optional first aid course that Barça was putting on for the players. Captain’s had to attend, she did not. It was Ingrid who had insisted, her rationale simple and persuasive: “It won’t do any harm to know first aid. You never know when it might come in handy.” At the time, Mapi had seen it as a minor inconvenience, a waste of a perfectly good free afternoon.

Are they responsive?: She gently shook your shoulder and called out softly, “Frijolita, can you hear me?” There was no response. Her heart raced, but she forced herself to remain calm.

Ear to their mouth and look at their chest – are they breathing?: Mapi leaned in closer, her ear near your mouth, her eyes fixed on your chest. She waited and waited. Nothing. No movement. Nothing on her cheek either.

Hands together in the middle of their chest – aim for between the nipples: She positioned her hands, interlocking her fingers and placing them on the centre of your chest, just above the lower half of your sternum.

Down at least 5cm and all the way up: With a deep breath, she began chest compressions, pressing down with firm, deliberate force. She counted each compression, focusing on the depth and rhythm, making sure to allow full recoil between compressions.

Up and down 30 times: Mapi kept a steady rhythm, performing the compressions at a rate of 100 to 120 per minute. She counted aloud, her voice steady despite her nerves, her focus entirely on the task.

Tilt the head back, pinch the nose, create an airtight seal with your mouth: After completing the cycle of compressions, Mapi tilted your head back slightly, pinched your nose shut, and positioned her mouth over yours, forming a tight seal.

Breathe twice: She administered two rescue breaths, each one deliberate and controlled, watching for any signs of chest rise. She repeated the process, her breaths firm but gentle.

Back to the chest: Returning to chest compressions, she resumed her rhythm, the pattern of her actions becoming a practiced dance of urgency and hope.

Staying Alive by the Bee Gees

Wannabe by the Spice Girls

Dancing Queen by ABBA

Respect by Aretha Franklin

Say So by Doja Cat

The SpongeBob Square Pants theme

Each song felt like a lifeline, a rhythmic mantra that guided her actions as she worked. The beats and lyrics looped in her head, a surreal juxtaposition to the gravity of the situation. Tears were streaming down her face and plopping onto your t-shirt.

With each compression, her resolve hardened. She pushed through the exhaustion and anxiety, her hands moving with determined precision. The repetition of her actions became a mantra, each push and breath a testament to her will to keep you safe. The songs in her head were a rhythm to her actions, a strange but effective way to keep her focus sharp and her movements steady.

The sounds of the stadium outside – the murmurs of the crowd, the collective gasp of concern – seemed muted, almost like they were a world away. Her world had narrowed to the urgent task of keeping you alive.

She couldn’t look up. Her body wouldn’t let her. She could hear Alexia. She could hear the sobs, raw and heart-wrenching, punctuated by the occasional choked sob or whispered plea. The sounds were a painful contrast to the clinical efficiency of the medics around her, their voices calm and professional as they continued their work.

Mapi’s vision was a blur, her gaze fixed on the ground, the grass beneath her scuffed and muddied. Her hands were still trembling, and the adrenaline that had fuelled her actions now seemed to drain away, leaving her feeling hollow and emotionally exhausted.

The medics had gently pulled her off you, their movements firm but compassionate. The rhythmic beeping of the heart monitor, which had been a distant background noise, now seemed to echo in her ears with an almost rhythmic insistence. Beeps were good. Beeps meant there was a rhythm to trace. They were a lifeline

Ingrid’s hand appeared in front of her – a guiding light in the dimness of Mapi’s world. The familiar touch was a lifeline of its own, grounding her in a moment when everything felt as though it was spiralling out of control.

“María, min kjærlighet,” Ingrid’s voice was gentle, like talking to a wounded animal. The Norwegian words, though soothing and foreign, carried a warmth and familiarity that Mapi desperately needed. Ingrid’s presence was a comforting constant in the storm of emotions swirling around her.

Mapi looked up, her vision still blurred by tears and exhaustion. Ingrid’s face was a beacon of calm amid the chaos, her eyes filled with concern and empathy. She took a deep, shuddering breath, her fingers reaching out to grasp Ingrid’s hand, seeking solace in the shared strength of their bond.

“I… I didn’t know what to do,” Mapi whispered, her voice trembling. “I thought I was losing her.”

Ingrid squeezed her hand gently, her touch a reassuring anchor. “You did everything you could, María. You were incredible. They’ve got her now, and that’s what matters.”

Alexia had never felt fear quite like that. The pure, unadulterated terror that coursed through her veins was unlike anything she had ever experienced. It was a raw, gnawing fear that twisted and turned inside her, threatening to overtake her entirely. She had seen her Papi die, felt the crushing weight of grief as it had changed their lives forever. The memories of that loss were seared into her heart, an enduring ache she carried with her. Now, faced with the possibility of losing you, the fear was even more intense.

The stadium, usually a place of joy and celebration, had become an arena of anguish. The sound of the crowd had faded into a distant murmur, replaced by the frantic shuffling of medical staff and the stifling, heavy silence of the waiting room. Alexia’s heart pounded in her chest; each beat a reminder of how quickly everything could be taken away

She paced back and forth, the hard tile of the hospital floor cold beneath her feet. The familiar surroundings of the waiting area – chairs arranged neatly, the hum of fluorescent lights overhead – were now a blur of sterile emptiness. She barely registered the passing time, her thoughts a chaotic whirlwind of memories and fears.

She was glad though, that this was a home game. The first one after the Christmas holidays. Your Mami and Alba were in the crowd. She couldn’t imagine having to make that phone call.

“Ale, mija, come sit.” Eli’s voice was rough with suppressed tears.

She moved robotically, dropping heavily onto the open chair and letting her head rest on her mother’s shoulder – mirroring Alba on the other side.

Her mind danced with memories. Your first proper laugh, a bubbly, infectious sound that had filled the room with a joy so pure it was impossible not to smile. She could still picture the way your eyes had sparkled with delight, a tiny beacon of happiness that had made her heart swell with love. She squeezed you a little tighter as she rested on the couch, your back propped against her thighs as she tickled your tummy.

Your first steps, a wobbly but determined series of movements that had marked the beginning of your journey toward independence. Alexia remembered how she had clapped and cheered, her heart swelling with pride as you took those tentative steps towards her, each one a testament to your growing strength and confidence.

Your first birthday had been a celebration of milestones and new beginnings. The cake, with its bright, colourful frosting, had been a highlight of the day. The way you had looked at the cake, your tiny hands reaching out with curiosity and delight, was a moment she treasured before you stuck a sticky, messy fistful towards her as she sat in a seat next to you. The room had been filled with laughter, presents, and the warmth of family gathered to celebrate your first year of life.

She couldn’t do this without you. The very thought of continuing without your presence was unbearable. She would retire, leave behind the game she had devoted her life to. The idea of walking away from everything she had worked for, of going into hiding and never showing her face again, seemed like a small price to pay if it meant keeping you by her side.

As she sat there, the weight of the situation pressing down on her, she didn’t notice the tears trailing steadily down her cheeks. They fell in silent tracks. Her hands trembled slightly, the fingers gripping the edge of her chair as if they could somehow anchor her to reality.

The room was filled with a heavy silence, punctuated only by the occasional footsteps of hospital staff and the muffled conversations of other waiting families. It was a surreal, almost dreamlike atmosphere, where time seemed to stretch endlessly. Alexia's eyes remained fixed on the door leading to the treatment area, her gaze unwavering as if willing it to open with news of recovery.

“Putellas Segura?” a young man—barely twenty-five with slight stubble and unkempt hair—appeared in front of them. His face was tense, a mixture of youthful anxiety and professional seriousness.

“Sí, sí.” Eli’s voice was a desperate whisper, her eyes searching his face for any sign of good news. She rose from her seat, her heart pounding, her breath shallow.

The young man glanced around the waiting area, his gaze landing on Alexia. “I’m Dr. Ruiz, one of the attending physicians. I have an update.”

Alexia’s heart leaped into her throat, and she squeezed her mother’s hand for support. The tension in the room seemed to coalesce around Dr. Ruiz, his presence a focal point of hope and fear.

“Is she…?” Alexia started, her voice trembling with the weight of the question she needed answered.

Dr. Ruiz took a deep breath, his expression softening slightly as he continued. “She’s stable now. We’ve managed to get her heart rate under control, and she’s responsive. We’re continuing to monitor her closely, but for the moment, she’s out of immediate danger.”

Relief washed over Alexia like a tide, the knot of worry in her chest beginning to unravel. Her knees felt weak, and she leaned heavily back on her chair The room’s oppressive silence seemed to lift, replaced by a collective exhale of relief.

“Can we see her?” Eli’s voice cut through the stillness, urgent and pleading.

Dr. Ruiz nodded. “Yes, you can. I’ll take you to her. She’s in recovery now, and we’ll need to keep monitoring her, but you can see her for a few minutes. Follow me, please.”

The room was dimly lit, with the soft beeping of medical equipment providing a steady, comforting rhythm. Alexia stepped inside, her heart in her throat as she finally saw you lying in the hospital bed.

You were pale but alive, your chest rising and falling with each breath. The sight of you – though still connected to various monitors and IV drips – was a balm to Alexia’s frayed nerves. She approached the bedside, her steps tentative but determined.

“Frijolita,” she whispered, her voice cracking with emotion. She reached out to gently take your hand, her tears falling freely now. The sight of you, still and vulnerable, made her heart ache. But seeing you breathing, with the beeping of the monitor steady and rhythmic, filled her with a profound sense of relief.

Mapi and Ingrid stood nearby, their faces reflecting the same mixture of concern and hope. Ingrid’s eyes were wet with tears, and she looked at Alexia with a look of shared gratitude.

Dr. Ruiz cleared his throat softly, drawing Alexia’s attention back to him. “She’s been through a lot, and we’ll need to monitor her closely for the next few hours. But the immediate danger has passed, and she’s responding well.”

Alexia nodded, unable to tear her gaze away from you. She gently squeezed your hand, whispering softly, “You’re going to be okay. We’re all here for you. We’ll get through this together.”

I hope you enjoyed it <3<3<3<3

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bartxnhood · 3 months

Text

escort at the oscars | a.b

austin butler x fem!actress!reader

summary: getting lost at the oscar’s wasn’t on your roster. neither was getting austin butlers attention.

warnings: definitely poor representation of the oscars but idc this is just for funsies !

w/c: 3.1k

a/n: omg hi everyone !!! long time no see i know, life has been insane. i know no one will read this but ive had some HUGE life changes. i graduated cosmetology school, officially a nail tech now, yay me !! also, unfortunately, ill be having a hand surgery soon. so, im hoping i can write more before i can’t 😭. thank you to everyone who still supports me even though im not ac active as i used to be. one day i promise ill update regularly !!

a/n2: also, austin in the new bikeriders movie had me in a chokehold. the austin butler renaissance is upon us, people !!! (he’s also my bday twin WOO) and i know austin didn’t win an oscar for elvis but for the sake of the fic he did in this !!

not proofread

requests open

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since the red carpets were only carpets, you could have sworn they were easy to manage. the theater was only accessible by walking through a line, but that wasn't the case. after only thirty minutes, you had to make a big mistake by trying to use the restroom and ending up opening a broom closet.

“hey,” you heard a voice, and you quickly turned around only to find yourself facing austin. “the ceremony isn’t in the closet, darling.”

“right..” you whisper under your breath and close the door. you smile awkwardly turning on your heels and holding your clutch tightly.

“i was just uh..looking for the restroom but i couldn’t find it” you laugh, looking down and shaking your head, and begin walking away from the boom closet.

austin couldn’t help but chuckle, following behind you while holding his hand behind his back as he walked slowly for you to match his stride.

he could tell that you were an up-and-coming actress, something about the way you carried yourself gave it away, and he could also tell that this was your first time on a red carpet by the way you were clutching your clutch bag so firmly like your life depended on it.

“you look nervous,” he said softly, “it’s your first time on a red carpet, isn’t it?”

you smile sheepishly. “that obvious, huh?” you trail behind austin assuming he is taking you to the restrooms.

“never knew how big these places are” you laugh, holding up the end of your dress so it doesn’t drag.

austin could see how nervous you were by the way you were holding your dress up while you were walking, and he thought that it was adorable, honestly.

he chuckled as you mentioned how big the venue is because you weren’t wrong, it is pretty damn big. “ive been to a few oscars now and i still think the venue is too big,” he said with a laugh, as he walked by your side with that perfect movie star strut.

“which movie are you nominated for?”

you had never been to something like this, and you didn’t even have a premiere for your movie. but somehow, critics loved the movie and now your movie was nominated.

it felt like it happened overnight.

“blue moon” you answer, not expecting him to know it.

the movie was set in the second world war and your character was the spouse of one of the soldiers. after he died, your character joined the war.

it was an underground film, your first lead and you didn’t expect anyone to pick up the movie. but someone did, ended up being shown at a film festival and the critics fell in love with your performance. and that’s how you landed a nomination for best lead actress.

austin’s eyes widened as you mentioned the movie you’re up for, blue moon; he enjoyed that movie, and as he thought about it more he really couldn’t deny that you were fantastic in it.

“no way,” he said in disbelief, “no wonder you’re nominated for best actress, you were incredible in that film.”

“thank you” you nod, noticing you have finally made it to the restrooms.

“and thank you for showing me the way” you chuckle, dropping the train of your dress then stuffing your clutch under your arm and sticking out your hand.

austin takes your hand with a gentle yet firm grip and smiles, nodding. “no problem, glad i could be of help.”

“i’m y/n l/n” you introduced. “it was nice to meet you, austin. thanks for this” you grin, retracting your hand.

“i guess ill catch you later..”

“it was a pleasure to meet you, y/n,” he replied with a smile before watching you walk into the restroom, and he couldn’t help but keep his eyes on the door as you disappeared behind it.

he thought you were pretty. very pretty, and he kind of regretted not asking you for your phone number before you disappeared.

so, austin stood there leaning against the wall deciding he would wait on you. just in case you got lost again.

no other reason.

after relieving yourself, you stand in front of the mirror taking in a couple of deep breaths to calm the pounding in her chest, making it hard to breathe.

you open your clutch, picking out a compact and a lipstick. you swipe the color on your lips to touch up the splotches, and quickly powder your face.

you put everything back in your clutch smoothed out your hair and admired your dress.

floor-length satin gown in your favorite color, a ribbed corset look.

“you can do this, y/n/n..” you whisper to yourself then pick up the train of your dress and exit the restroom, hoping you won’t miss the award ceremony.

austin was now pacing in front of the restroom, waiting for you to exit, his eyes fixated on the door, and he found himself running a hand through his styled hair, ruining the gelled look.

he wasn’t sure what had compelled him to wait for you, but here he was, still waiting outside the restroom, tapping his foot anxiously and checking his watch now and then.

austin leaned back against the wall as he waited, trying to look nonchalant as ever, and once the restroom door opened, a soft exhale left his lips.

you let the door shut behind you while smoothing out the front of your dress and began walking down the hallway until you stopped seeing a figure.

you look up from the floor and spot austin, assuming he is waiting for you.

“austin?” you ask softly, taking in a deep breath.

austin’s eyes softened at the sound of his name, and he couldn’t take his eyes off of you once he saw you walking towards him, smoothing out the front of your dress and making sure it was wrinkle-free and free of any stains.

“hey,” he replied with a smile and nod, “i was just, uh, making sure you didn’t get lost, again.” austin laughed, looking at you through his eyebrows.

you couldn’t help but chuckle, “no worries, restrooms are pretty simple,” you reply with a toothy grin.

“but, if you wouldn’t mind showing me the way to the theater?” you ask, knowing if you didn’t have the guidance you’d definitely get lost and miss the entire ceremony.

and you didn’t need that kind of embarrassment.

though, deep down you know you wouldn’t win tonight, but still, you wanted to experience being at the freaking oscars!

austin smiled at how eager you were to not get lost again. he chuckled softly as you asked him to guide you to the theater, and he pushed himself off the wall, taking one last look at his watch before walking closer to you.

“and here i was, thinking you’d never ask,” he joked, before holding out his arm for you to grab and wrap your own around.

“don’t wanna risk you ending up in the broom closet again,” he teased.

you drop your head, smiling, and then laugh at his comment about getting lost in the broom closet.

“listen..” you say softly, covering your face with the clutch. “i would say it was one mistake, but with my luck, it’s bound to happen again.”

you carefully take his arm and begin walking towards the theater. you can feel your cheeks warming up.

here you are, lost at the oscar’s and now having the austin butler escort you into the theater.

when you attempted to cover your face with your clutch, he rolled his eyes and gently grabbed it, pulling it away from your face. “no hiding.” he teased.

as you walked side by side, down the halls and towards the theater, austin couldn’t help himself but glance over at you now and then.

he smiled when you laughed at his joke and chuckled even more as you attempted to defend yourself. “just one? you’re sure about that?”

you smile, looking ahead. not being able to look him in the eyes. “no..” you laugh.

“on my first day of filming, i got lost and accidentally locked myself in the hair and makeup trailer” you giggle, recalling one of the most embarrassing moments that’s happened to you. though, this one trumps that.

“no way..” you hear austin laugh wholeheartedly, a sound so beautiful it could turn your legs into jelly.

“yes way” you laugh back, nodding. you weren’t paying attention and almost tripped over the end of your dress.

“here, let me help you with that” austin offers, picking up the train of your dress so you can walk more comfortably.

“see? clumsy.”

austin grins, holding the satin fabric in his hands as you continue towards the theater. “we all have our quirks” he adds. “you’ll warm up to this life, it’ll become easier and if it doesn’t, i’ll help you navigate this journey.” austin spoke without really thinking.

you finally see the two large golden doors which lead into the theater. “ready?” austin grins, raising his eyebrows before opening the door.

when the door opens you’re hit with a soft wind of cool air, the sound of people chattering, and the camera crew getting ready to go live.

“well, let’s hope i can find my seat with ease..” you say walking down the aisle with him towards the seconds for the nominees. “i’ll help,” austin says and begins scanning the row of seats for your name.

y/n l/n

“here you are.” he points to your name plastered on the back of the seat. “right next to mine” he leads you to the two end aisle seats on the front row. your crew sat behind you and austin’s was right next to him.

you were shocked, walking to your seat and letting go of his arm. austin drops the end of your dress gracefully, making sure it doesn’t get dirty.

“what a coincidence, huh?” you take your seat, crossing your legs and placing your clutch in your lap.

austin had what you’d call a shit-eating grin on his face as he sat next to you. “coincidence? or the universe giving us a sign?”

he could tell you were feeling out of place, but he silently tried to make you feel more comfortable by flashing you a reassuring smile.

you shrug, smiling as the staff prepares to go on air. you take in a deep breath, calming your racing heart as you watch the host enter the stage.

“good luck tonight.” austin leans in, whispering. you turn to face him, “you too”. austin winks and then focuses his attention on the stage as the lights dim.

you follow suit, the ceremony officially begins.

a short video montage of all the movies nominated begins to play, and for a second you see yourself.

wow.

after the video, the lights come back on, and out steps the host.

“hello, and welcome to the ninety-sixth oscars, everyone! look at these beautiful faces!”

the room explodes into applause and cheers from the guests.

there’s more to the introduction, bad jokes, awkward laughter, and overall a very, very, long introduction before getting into the awards.

tonight was going to be very long.

“and the nominees for the best lead actor” the host announces, letting a brief video play of all the nominees and their movies.

some actors you knew well, others you didn’t.

“and the oscar goes to..” the host drawls, opening the envelope and a smile appears on her face.

“austin butler!”

the crowd erupts into a roar of cheers and applause, people standing up all around, yourself included. austin stands up hugging his team around him and his friends. he turns to you, smiling as if he won the lottery. “congrats!” you pat his shoulder as he walks past you on stage to accept the award.

“wow..” his deep voice rang through the microphone, looking at the audience and fellow nominees. “i’d uh..wow..all my words are leaving me…i’m standing in front of my heroes. i’m so incredibly grateful to be standing here, i just wanted to say thank you to my team, all the producers, writers, directors, costume, and makeup. everyone. and the presley family for guiding me through this whole process. thank you, thank you from the bottom of my heart. and lastly, thank you to all the new people i’ve met” he looks towards you. “i’m so grateful to be standing here. thank you.” he blows a kiss to the crowd before disappearing backstage.

the rest of the male categories went on in between intermissions. many of your favorite actors won, and movies.

then, before you knew it, the female categories were beginning. you saw austin returning to his seat before the nominees were announced.

“now, let’s take a look at the nominees for best female lead role…” the host begins.

like the male category, there are videos of each nominee and then you’re face pops up in a small montage of your movie with your name announced.

austin looked over at you when your face appeared on the big screen, he saw that look in your eyes. he couldn’t describe it. awe? no, it was something more than that. something he had never seen from any of the people he worked with. he had been to many events like this, but you…something about you.

“and the oscar for best female lead role goes too..”

anticipation.

so many great and talented women in this category, that you feel honored to even be considered as good as them.

what if you didn’t win?

but what if you did win? you didn’t even think you prepare an acceptance speech because there is absolutely no way someone like you could-

“y/n l/n! congratulations!”

the world stopped, people around you standing up and applauding. you.

you sat there, mouth agape staring at the stage with your face on the screens like an idiot. your crew grabbing your shoulders to congratulate you as you stand up. hugging some of your crew, then looking at austin wide-eyed. he’s smiling at you, saying something like “i knew you’d win” but you couldn’t be sure, you were in shock.

you begin towards the stage, austin trailing behind you holding your dress so you won’t trip. if there’s one thing austin learned about you tonight, you were clumsy.

you look back, thanking austin with your eyes approach the host, and accept the award.

“oh man..” you begin, feeling tears prickling your eyes. a quiet laugh escapes your throat, looking down at the golden award and then back to the crowd. “i didn’t have a speech prepared, i didn’t expect to win at all. but i wanted to thank everyone who worked on the set of this movie. thank you to the director who saw my indie films and thought i had the talent to portray my character. thank you to my team who always supported me. thank you to my family who always believed in me..who pushed me to work harder..” you sniffle, lip quivering.

“thank you. thank you so much.” you cry. “and thank you to austin, who helped me when i got lost, otherwise i would’ve missed the best moment in my life”. you look towards austin, your teary eyes glittering underneath the lights. the crowd laughs at this, finding it humorous.

austin smiled as he listened to your heartfelt acceptance speech. he couldn’t help but feel proud of you, watching the way you held the award in your hands and thanked everyone who had helped you along the way.

his heart skipped a beat when you mentioned him in your speech. he chuckled softly as the crowd laughed when you joked about getting lost, and he felt a warmth spread through him as he heard you express your gratitude towards him.

“and to all my fellow nominees, i can’t believe im standing in front of you. i’m so honored to be here with you tonight. and i realize i am rambling so i will accept this and go” you laugh, waving to your crew and exiting the stage.

as you walked off the stage, austin stood up and applauded once again, clapping louder than ever before.

the rest of the night continued without fail, the whole thing continued for about three and a half hours. you knew it was going to be long, but you don’t think you’d ever get used to it.

the ceremony ended, leading you and the other winners backstage to get pictures and interviews.

you stand with your friends, who also are a part of your crew. you’re still absolutely shocked. crying on and off as they congratulate you on one of the biggest achievements of your career.

you weren’t aware of austin approaching you until you felt a hand on your lower back. you look over your shoulder and see his baby blues. “austin!” you grin, turning your body toward him. “hi, darling. congratulations.” he says, gesturing to the award in your hand.

“thank you” you bring the award up to your face, grinning like a proud parent. “and congrats to you”

austin nods, looking down at his award. “looks like we both got pretty lucky, huh?”

you nod, agreeing. “i guess so..” you say softly.

you see austin’s eyebrow raise, his eyes dancing over your figure against the wall. you couldn’t quite place what he was thinking. he could be thinking many things, but you wouldn’t know. he was too hard to read, for you at least.

“say, uh..” he smirks, biting his lip. “how would you feel if i asked for your number?” his extra arm came up to the wall beside your head, entrapping you.

oh boy.

you hold the award close to your chest, looking up at him. “well, i’d feel like i’d be dreaming but im not going to say no.” you answer.

“good because i don’t know what id do if you said no” he chuckles, his eyes not leaving yours.

“i’ll call you, we’ll go out sometime. i wanna know more of you. if it’s anything like i saw tonight, i think i might fall in love with you.”

you can feel your ears burning as he speaks, his raspy voice making your legs feel weak. his eyes looking down on you, god. he was driving you insane. his slightly gelled hair, his grey suit, his cologne.

he was so close.

“then i guess you should be ready for that,” you say, smirking.

you heard your name being called, your manager trying to get you for an interview.

you push yourself off the wall, but before you leave you pause. “call me.” you wink and then walk away, leaving austin’s world rocked. never had he met someone like you, never has he been this intrigued and captivated by someone.

thank god he found you when he did.

#bartxnhood asks #bartxnhood writes #austin butler #austin butler x reader #austin butler fanfic #austin butler fan fiction #austin butler x you #austin butler x y/n #elvis presley x reader

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rafeandonlyrafe · 5 months

Text

chat part two

words: 700

warnings: 18+ only, cockwarming, p in v, very fluffy compared to part one i just wanted an excuse to write cockwarming sorry!, established relationship, streamer!rafe, gamer!rafe

part one / part two

“no, don't go.” you whine, gripping onto rafes hand, trying to pull him back down on the bed.

“im supposed to stream soon, baby.” rafe says, leaning back down to press a kiss against your lips.

you usually don't mind when he has to go stream, but you're feeling incredibly clingy today as you tug at his hand again when he doesn't lay back down, doesn't continue the cuddle session.

“why don't you come with me?” he offers. “you can sit on my lap while i play?”

that has you perking up, nodding rapidly. “can you carry me to your stream room though?”

your legs work perfectly fine, but that doesn't stop you from wanting rafe to carry you around everywhere, loving the way your bodies can stay pressed together.

rafe smiles softly, reaching down to scoop you into his arms. “you're lucky you're so damn cute.”

“love you.” you coo, pressing your lips to his neck as he carries you out of the bedroom and down the hallway. you don't hide the fact that your kisses quickly turn to sucks as you leave a hickey for everyone to see, yet again claiming your territory, not that rafe let's anyone even get close enough to try anything.

rafe sits down in his gamer chair and you quickly adjust to straddle him, your chests pressed together as he begins clicking buttons, setting up his stream.

“remember that time i sucked you off on live?” you ask with a small giggle.

“yeah, i remember how much shit i got from twitch.” rafe chuckles, dropping one hand to squeeze your ass. “totally worth it.”

“maybe… maybe i could sit on it?” you don't form the actual words, just alluding to what you're really asking for.

rafe hums, thinking it over briefly. he almost got his twitch partnership revoked, it even went as far as to threaten a ban despite nothing actually being seen.

“you gotta actually sit still though.” he says. having your tight cunt wrapped around him will be well worth the possibility of a ban. plenty other streaming services would jump at the chance to have him exclusively anyways.

“promise.” you kiss rafes jaw as you slide your shorts and underwear off. rafe adjusts the camera, zooming it in more and changing the angle so there's no possible chance for your ass to be on screen as you pull his cock out of his pants.

“gonna start the stream now. get me hard then get on my cock.” rafe says, waiting for you to nod before clicking the button to start the live.

your body hides his privates as well, the camera just seeing rafe from the chest up as well as the back of your head.

“babygirl is feeling clingy today so she's joining me.” rafe says as the viewers start to roll in. “isn't she just the cutest?”

you smile, turning your head slightly to grin at the camera before focusing back on what you really want.

you wrap your hand around rafes cock, stroking him subtly until he's hard enough for you to raise your hips, hovering against his tip before slowly sinking down.

you let out a soft moan, remembering to press your mouth against his shirt to muffle the noise.

it's hard to stay still, but your eyes drift close and eventually as rafe streams, the gnawing need to get fucked or move decreases, and you find yourself enjoying the stillness.

“love you so much bun.” rafe whispers, kissing the side of your head as you're slumped against him.

“couple more games and ill be done, yeah?”

“um…” you glance at the time, blinking away the bit of sleep. rafe is always down to end a stream whenever you want, but you also don't want to force him to stop early. “im actually okay. you can keep going.”

“really?” he laughs as a new game begins. “not desperate to start bouncing?”

you shake your head no. “i actually kinda like just this.” you admit softly, laying your head back down.

rafe keeps streaming, his cock inside of you, warm and secured, your bodies secretly connected while you sleep on his shoulder, chat going crazy about how cute you are sleeping against him, wishing they were in your position.

rafe smirks seeing the comments. if only they knew.

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multific · 4 months

Text

Maybe In Another Life

King Baldwin IV x Reader

Warnings: Mention of smut, Illness, Mourning, Death

Summary: A short piece about a King who was doomed to die early and his Queen.

You were promised to him before either of you were even born.

You were married by the time you were 13. He was 14 years old.

And you loved him.

You loved how smart he was. How gentle and kind he was.

Your love for him started when you began to grow older, you got used to one another.

You loved him.

Then, he started to get more and more sick. It scared you. The thought of losing him petrified you.

You tried to ignore his illness, you tried to act as if everything was fine. But you couldn't hide it for long.

He was a strong soul, but his body was weak.

You remember the night of your wedding when you had to consummate your marriage. It was a night you would never forget.

It was the first time you laid with him. It was the first time you felt truly loved.

Even if you wanted to, tried to, there was only ever one time when he gave himself to you.

You seduced him, not giving him an option, you laid in his bed, bare and presented yourself to him. It was his 16th day of birth before his illness got worse.

He began to wear the mask, never letting anyone touch him.

You loved him, it was simple yet complicated.

But you knew he loved you.

His actions showed it to you.

The garden he built just for you, was grand and gorgeous.

"Just like you, My Wife." he would say. "This garden will be the proof of my love for you and of your beauty for the upcoming centuries."

How he loved your smile.

But then, you were sitting next to him as he was taking his last breaths. Your tears falling, you couldn't control them.

"I will miss you greatly." you said as he moved his hand and allowed you to take it.

One last touch.

"I love you," he said and you smiled, allowing him to see it right as he died.

You took a deep breath and placed a kiss on his mask.

"I love you too." you said as you broke down sobbing.

You visited his grave daily.

In the beginning, you didn't even leave it for days.

They will crown a new King, and people will move on, but not you.

Barely a year passed and you were lost. You had nothing and no one to live for.

You still visited your husband's grave daily, hoping he would wake up, hoping he would come back to you, but he never did.

Your mourning caused you to become sick.

In the hopes of joining your husband in the afterlife, you prayed and begged for death until the day it finally took you.

You joined him in death as you wished.

The wife of King Baldwin IV was placed to rest next to him, your rightful place, right by his side.

Maybe in another life, you two would meet again, hopefully, that time it will be right.

----

They say you don't remember your past life, but the feeling stays with you.

It is why a person who you know you have not met, might feel familiar. In a past life, you might have known them.

Then, there are people who claim to remember their past life. Who say they found their true love once again.

You used to laugh at those people.

But not today.

Not when you couldn't look away from him.

He stood right across the other side of the street. Occasionally, cars obstructed your view, but he was there.

With each passing car, you feared he would disappear.

But he didn't.

His eyes were glued to yours.

A familiar feeling flooded you, you knew him but you never met him.

You would remember such a handsome face, he was tall, lean yet built, dressed in jeans and a sweatshirt. Nothing spectacular.

But he looked amazing in your eyes.

Soon, he crossed the road, and you felt your heartbeat pick up.

You didn't move as he walked closer to you.

He was even taller up close.

"My Wife." he said and it felt so right.

You have never seen this man in your life. And yet, you remembered him.

"My King." you said as tears fell from your eyes.

"I remember learning about you in history class. The Mourning Queen of the Leper King." he stepped closer, lifting his hand to your cheek, and you smiled.

"I told you before, I couldn't possibly live without you." he smiled as you leaned closer, grabbing his shirt to pull him down.

And now, you could kiss him freely.

Your past was filled with love and pain. You both will make sure that this life will be a happy one.

You both pulled away from the kiss and spoke in sync.

"I love you."

Taglist:

@castellandiangelo @imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl @manduse @jacalineiscomingforyou @mandoloriancookie @deliciousfestsalad @groovyqueer @lilliumrorum @asgards-princess-of-mischief

~Masterlist~

ˇAO3ˇ

/YOU DO NOT HAVE PERMISSION TO TRANSLATE, OR TO STEAL ANY OF MY WORKS TO THIS OR OTHER PLATFORMS/

#x reader #fanfiction #x female reader #King Baldwin IV x Reader #King Baldwin IV x you #King Baldwin x Reader #King Baldwin x you #King Baldwin #King Baldwin IV #kingdom of heaven #baldwin iv #baldwin x reader #baldwin x you #king baldwin imagine #king baldwin imagines #kingdom of heaven 2005 #kingdom of heaven fandom #kingdom of heaven x reader #kingdom of heaven fanfiction

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wosoragebaiter69 · 8 months

Text

a bit hot

barça fem x teen!reader

request: here

A/N: yesterday i was in shambles trying to write this.. i keep getting sickness i write about 💀food poisoning next 😃

TW: Vomit, passing out, illness

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

It all started with a small headache, it was one you could tolerate, probably just a bit of exhaustion and would go away once drinking water. The thing was though, it didn’t go away.

It was hot in Barcelona, 37° C hot. Water intake for everyone was high, and you were being made to drink extra water by not only the physios, but also your Captains.

Honestly, you thought everyone was feeling like this if you’d been drinking the most and still feeling headachy. You persevere though determined to not let a bit of pain decide how the training goes.

But when ignored, problems only get worse.

It only takes half an hour for your overall health to decline, and obviously people notice. How couldn’t they when it looked like you couldn’t even think straight.

Which is true. You don’t recognise what’s happening until Alexia is pulling you away and inside the air-conditioned room.

“Dios Mío. What are we going to do with you.” Is the first thing she says, putting you in the direct line of 18° coolness blasting. It isn’t enough though.

You feel yourself growing tired, your head dropping every few seconds.

“Hey, hey. Stay awake for me yeah?” Your captain asks you. The only thing you are capable of doing is groaning before ultimately passing out, falling into her chest.

- - - - -

When you wake up again, you’re in a different room. A fan blowing on you and a UV line dripping into your skin. Alexia is also there, who has been joined by Marta and Mapi.

You feel sick to your stomach, shutting your eyes in hopes of holding anything inside back. Conceal don’t feel right? That’s what Elsa says.

You hear footsteps cautiously approach, you don’t have to open your eyes to know it’s Alexia.

“Nena?” She whispers quietly, placing her hand on your still slightly warm skin. You shake your head, trying to suppress any indicators that you were about to throw up. She knows better, Mapi knows better, Marta knows better.

The other captain throws Alexia a puke bag who holds it in front of your mouth.

“Come on, I know you don’t want to but please. You’ll feel better.” You give into her and into yourself. Retching into the bag, making all the girls in the room cringe at the sound.

Once you’ve pulled yourself together, Alexia closes the bag and disposes it in a bin in the corner.

“Are you going to throw up again soon or no?” She asks, sparing a glance at the other two.

“I should be fine, thanks Ale.” Your voice is hoarse and slightly cracks.

“Ok, good.” She leans against the table you’re on thinking about what to say next. Marta beats her to it.

“Why didn’t you speak up about how ill you were? We would’ve brought you in sooner.” You sigh.

“Well I thought we were all going through that! I had been drinking more water than you guys yet I’m still the one who is plugged into a machine?”

“You have to promise to tell us next time ok?” Alexia asks, you nod.

“Bebita, I have Ingrid ready in the car when you feel well enough. The doctor said you could take the UV out when you wake up” You smile at the thought of getting into your bed at home.

“Ok, thanks Mapi.” She pats your leg smiling.

“We’ll talk about this another day ok? Go home, get rest. You are not going to be training in conditions like these over the next few days. Some investigators are looking into why this has happened so they might want to talk to you at some point.” She finishes curiously.

“Well, sounds fun. I wanna go home now.” Mapi nods, helping you stay up and walking toward the car where Ingrid is already situated.

- - - - -

When you get home you’re exhausted, hungry and sweaty.

“Come on elskling, I’ll run you a bath while Mapi gets you some light food. Then you can sleep for however long you need. Is that ok?” Ingrid says, pushing you inside.

“Mkay, thanks Ingrid.” She kisses your temple placing the training bags she was holding in her room before going to the bathroom to start a cool bath.

“I won’t make you anything warm, do you want a salad?” A salad does sound good, and refreshing.

“Sounds good.” She leads you to the bench, the cool countertop doing wonders against your warm skin.

She gets the salad ready rather fast, it’s not that big, but definitely enough that you won’t go to sleep uncomfortable.

Soon after eating your food, Ingrid comes back.

“Bath is ready when you are.”

You nod, legs still shaky so the couple helps you to the bathroom sitting you down.

“You’ll be ok?” Ingrid asks feeling your forehead, still cringing slightly.

“Yeah, I will. Thank you both… this means so much to me.”

“Don’t worry bebita, it’s the least we can do.” Mapi says smiling.

They both take your silence as a que to leave the room so they do. The bath relaxes you, and takes away most of the uncomfortable feelings inside.

When you’re done, you change into shorts and an old shirt, walking out slowly to the living room where Ingrid is reading a book and Mapi is playing with Bagheera.

Ingrid notices you first.

“Do you want medicine? Then you can sleep.”

“Yes please.” She gets up, going to medical cabinet pulling two paracetamol out and handing them to you with a glass of water.

“Drink.” You do as told and you finally let the exhaustion of the day come up to you. Before you realise what’s happening, Mapi has lifted you up and is taking you to your room.

“If you need anything, we’ll be here. Promise.” She whispers, putting you to bed. You smile up at her before falling into a peaceful slumber.

—————————————————

thanks for all the love and support guys, i hope that i can post the other fic tonight so you get 2 in one day 😘

#woso #woso community #woso x reader #woso fanfics #barcelona femeni #barca femeni #barcelona femeni x reader #barca femeni x reader

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fun-k-board · 10 months

Text

Mortal Kombat 1 With a Venom Symbiote Spider-Man Reader

Characters included : Johnny Cage, Kung Lao, Kitana, Mileena, Sindel, Syzoth / Reptile.

Note(s) : This was requested by @kchavez666

I'll do a part two after I finish part two to this post (Which is about a Spider-Man reader)

Johnny Cage

Adult Reader

Reader : I don't need saving, cage. I'm the hero, not you.

Johnny Cage : Way to break a man's ego and heart.

Reader : Your previous wife left... Career in shambles... And now we have your lover...

Johnny Cage : I'll find a way to kill you, whatever you are.

Johnny Cage : Why are you looking at me like that?

Reader : Your blood... I can't... Control it...

Johnny Cage : The hell is wrong with you?! Liu Kang said to not hurt civilians!

Reader : We just want to feed, Johnny...

Teen Reader

Reader : Please, it hurts! So many voices, so many-

Johnny Cage : We'll get it off of you, don't worry.

Reader : You cannot save them, they are a part of us now.

Johnny Cage : They're just a kid, you monster.

Johnny Cage : How could you do this?

Reader : We are saving the world.

Johnny Cage : Seriously, whatever that alien is, get it off!

Reader : You cannot separate us now.

Kung Lao

Adult Reader

Reader : I can't wait to peel the skin from your flesh...

Kung Lao : Get out of my lover's head, you beast!

Reader : Kung Lao, why are you hurting us, don't you love us?!

Kung Lao : I don't love you. Not like this.

Kung Lao : Give them back.

Reader : Give who back? We haven't stolen anybody.

Kung Lao : You tried to kill Liu Kang!

Reader : He was trying to separate us!

Teen Reader

Reader : It's so loud... Make it stop, make it stop!

Kung Lao : I'm only trying to help!

Reader : You are nothing, but if you join with a symbiote? You could be everything.

Kung Lao : Don't try to tempt me with false promises.

Kung Lao : That thing is changing you, if you'd only let me help-

Reader : Do not call us a thing!

Kung Lao : You're just a kid... How could this thing do this to you?...

Reader : Stop it, shut up! Shut up!

Kitana

Adult Reader

Reader : Ah... Princess Kitana, your flesh looks so... Appetising...

Kitana : Let my lover go, you filthy parasite.

Reader : Won't you help us save the world...?

Kitana : Taking away people's free will is not saving them.

Kitana : You are not the one I once loved, I can see that now.

Reader : You were so easy to fool.

Kitana : I can still save you.

Reader : We do not need saving!

Teen Reader

Reader : We only want peace...

Kitana : If that is the truth, then why does the blood of hundreds stain your hands?

Reader : Why would you do this to us?!

Kitana : It's only temporary, I need to keep you still so I can help get it off of you.

Kitana : To think, such a cruel creature would ensare a child-

Reader : You will not call us a creature!

Kitana : What a horrific display, you are not saving anybody by infecting them.

Reader : You're blinded, Outworlder, by your own arrogance. But we can save you...

Mileena

Adult Reader

Reader : The voices, they're so loud... So loud...

Mileena : My love, try to fight it, please-

Reader : You want to save us? But dearest, there's nothing to worry about.

Mileena : I'll kill you, you filthy parasite!

Mileena : We must fight our illnesses together.

Reader : What we are is not an illness!

Mileena : You will not be taken by that... That thing!

Reader : Do not call us a thing!

Teen Reader

Reader : I'll kill you and peel the flesh from your bones!

Mileena : You will not harm me or the victim you are controlling, parasite!

Reader : You claim to be superior? Did you not blind your creator's little puppet?

Mileena : What happened to the swordsman was a misfortune caused by my illness, not by my greed.

Mileena : You dare to infect this young Earthrealmer?!

Reader : They are one of us, now. Soon, you will join them.

Mileena : You... I will enjoy tearing you apart...

Reader : The beast fights a saviour.

Sindel

Adult Reader

Reader : You would dare lock us away?!

Sindel : You and that... Thing, can still be separated.

Reader : What a wondrous queen, willing to join us for her people.

Sindel : Hah, you believe I'll be lost to you?

Sindel : I have lost Jerrod once before, I refuse to lose my lover to this beast.

Reader : We will enjoy feasting on your corpse.

Sindel : You ignorant scum! You will release my lover this instant, or face punishment.

Reader : All of Outworld will join us...

Teen Reader

Reader : Stop it! Stop the noise! Agh!!

Sindel : I apologise for what I must do to save you, child.

Reader : You... You pathetic worm! You will join us and-

Sindel : Silence with your needless noises, parasite.

Sindel : Your actions have cost me and my people war with Earthrealm, vermin.

Reader : We are bridging the gap for peace, to save all worlds.

Sindel : Do you not understand consequence, or is your desire to feed above all else?

Reader : Our desire is as yours is, to protect our people.

Syzoth / Reptile

Adult Reader

Reader : That bell, turn it off, turn it off!

Reptile : I can't if I want to save you.

Reader : You've already lost one lover, and now you attempt to kill us?!

Reptile : You will never be my lover, you're a parasite.

Reptile : I love you, why do you refuse to return to me?

Reader : Because we are not yours, Syzoth.

Reptile : Your imitation of the one I hold dear is laughable at best.

Reader : You pathetic lizard, let us free!

Teen Reader

Reader : We will heal all worlds, if you must die for it, then that is your fate.

Reptile : You would be so cruel as to use a child for your goals?!

Reader : You will die just as your family did...

Reptile : I will show you no mercy, parasite!

Reptile : I know what it's like, to do things you couldn't imagine out of fear-

Reader : We are not afraid!

Reptile : You will not harm this child any longer.

Reader : We are harming nobody!

Tags :

@wtvbabes

@lighting-ninja

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formulapierre · 11 months

Text

His Royal Highness | George Russell

Pairing: George Russell x Royalty!Y/N

Prompt: George settles into life as the Prince of Wales which involves starting a family and having to overcome an obstacle that nobody saw coming.

Warnings: Death, Child illness: Cancer

Word count : 4135

HRH Series: Part 1 , Part 2 , Part 3

HRHPrinceofWales

Liked by BRDC and 1,492,750 other,

HRHPrinceofWales Amazing to finally be back at Silverstone after what felt like years away. Huge thanks to @MercedesAMGF1 and @WilliamsF1 for welcoming me back. Nice to see the inside of @MclarenF1's garage for the first time 😅

Deeply honoured to have been offered the role as President-in-chief of the BRDC after the passing of The Duke of Kent last year and I'm looking forward to working in motorsport once again.

BRDC The honour is all ours 😊

LandoNorris Great to see you again brother, dinner at yours right?

--- CharlesLeclerc Thats what I was told 🤷

View 1850 other comments...

“I didn’t think we’d be back here anytime soon,” George said as our driver pulled into our allocated parking space.

“Neither did I, though it definitely feels different,” You said, unfortunately you both had missed it the past few years so the last time you were here was in George’s final season.

“You won it the last time I was here,” You reminded him.

“I know, it was my favourite race of the season,” He said as the car doors were opened for you.

“Why’s that?” You ask, thanking the footman.

“Because It was my final race in front of my home crowd and apart from Abu Dhabi it was the only race you were able to attend,” He says, making you smile.

“Why am I not surprised,” You say, rolling your eyes as He takes your hand and you start to walk towards the paddock. You swiped yourselves in before you were ushered towards the Williams garage. The Williams family had a fairly long history with your family so they were always the first stop. You loved seeing George reunite with some of the people that He raced with, seeing that racing spark reignite inside of him.

It wasn’t too long before you were saying your goodbyes to the Williams team and heading towards Mercedes. Lewis had announced that after winning his eighth championship last year he was retiring so there was a bit of a bittersweet atmosphere, knowing that this would be his last race in front of his home crowd. You and Lewis had known each other for years; first meeting at a lunch in 2009 where he had been seated between you and your father, and then when you knighted him in 2021 after He won his 7th championship.

“Lewis,” You said excitedly as he came your way.

“Y/N, George; How are you both?” He asks pulling his ear plugs out after just coming in from FP1.

“Good, excited to be back,” George says, knowing you both shared that sentiment. Lando joined you a few moments later, talking about the dinner George had decided to arrange for all the drivers and their partners at Kensington palace in a few days. Your time in Mercedes was cut short by Adam reminding you that you needed to be in the BRDC clubhouse in a few minutes.

You reached the clubhouse with plenty of time to spare. You recognised quite a few of the faces as you walked in, George seeming to know most of them properly; stopping to greet quite a few of them. Everyone took their allocated seats as the BRDC President David Coulthard stood up on the stage to give his speech.

“Thank you to everyone who managed to make it to Silverstone today. As I’m sure you are all very aware of. Mr George Russell. Or as I've been told to call him, His Royal Highness The Prince of Wales, has been announced as our new President in Chief,” He says and a round of applause moves across the room. “-and although He’s been a member since 2014 we felt we should welcome him back properly,” He adds before George gets up from his seat to give a speech he had prepared.

“Thank you David; I promise I won’t take up too much of your time. I just wanted to say thank you to you all for welcoming me back with open arms. It’s been a few years since I last raced around this track and a lot has changed since then,” George says, smiling at you before continuing. “-but racing was, and always will be a huge part of my life and I felt I had to recognise that in some way. So after the passing of The Duke of Kent it felt only right that I take up the mantle,”

Lando.jpg

Liked by PierreGasly and 490,183 others

Lando.jpg Dinner at George's new place...don't quite know if 'new' is the right word...

carlossainz55 Great night, lovely to meet the Mrs Russell properly

-- Charles_Leclerc Mate, you barely spoke to her after you got lost...

--- Lando.jpg Do you think if I stayed they would notice????

Alex_Albon Has anyone seen Lando? we were meant to be getting a cab together...

-- danielricciardo I didn't see him leave to be honest...

pierregasly Thanks for the invite brother, meet up soon 👊

Lando.jpg They found me 🥲

“They should be here,” George says, looking out the window at the drive way, anxiously tapping his foot against the hardwood floor.

“Darling, it's two minutes past seven. Take a moment and breathe,” You say, putting a hand on your husband’s shoulder.

“That’s them,” He says, completely ignoring what you said and rushing to the front door. The doors were open as the footmen had gone out to open their car doors. All of the drivers and their partners had come together so there were only six cars rather than 20, making things much quicker. You and George greeted everyone as they came in, letting Adam show them through to the dining room.

You knew a fair amount of the drivers as they had been there when George was racing; however , some of the younger ones were fresh faces to you, though George seemed to know them. Lando and his girlfriend were the last couple in, talking with you as you entered the dining room. Everyone mingled for a while, chatting to each other as flutes of champagne were handed around; George was thoroughly enjoying getting to see all of his friends again, especially in such a stress-free environment. You were enjoying yourself, getting to know a few of the younger drivers and their partners.

You were mid way conversation with Mclaren's new driver Oliver Bearman when you heard the tinking of a knife against a crystal glass. Everyone turned to look at George who was standing in the middle of the room.

“Thank you all for coming tonight, I’m well aware of how difficult it is to coordinate twenty-something schedules but it means a lot to the both of us that you could be bothered to make an effort,” He says, causing everyone to laugh. “You all look great by the way, Y/N is still trying to convince me that I look better in a morning suit than a racing suit but I feel the jury is still out on that one,” He says, teasing you. “I don’t quite think that five years ago when Lewis first introduced me to Y/N I would have believed him if He had said this is where we would be standing today. So thank you,” He says, raising his glass to Lewis. “Y/N, Darling, I know you said there was something you wanted to say,” He says and now everyone turned to look at you.

“There was; I just wanted to say thank you to all of you. Lando, Charles, and Alex especially. I know that George's decision to retire was not one he made lightly, and probably not one he would have had to make had He not known me. But you three have really made the effort to keep in touch; I can’t tell you the amount of times I’ll walk into a room and find George in fits of laughter over something you had said and it really means the world to me to see him so happy, so thank you,” You say raising your glass to the three of them. “Oh, one last thing…George has told me to tell Lando specifically that there will be no fish served tonight…nor has any of the food been near a fish,” You add and the room erupts into laughter.

“Just the way I like it,” He replies before lifting his own glass. “To George and Y/N,” He says and everyone else lifts their glasses as well. George looks at you as he raises his glass. “Question though…anyone know where I can get myself one of these?” He asks

“You mean a palace mate?” Carlos asks

“Yeah, they’re quite nice. George, do you reckon you could give us a tour? Just so I know what I’m getting myself into of course,” Lando asks and George puts his hand on his shoulder.

“After dinner I will give you the full tour I promise,” He says with a smile as everyone moves towards the table and takes their seats.

You had cut the ribbon, officially opening the new children’s hospital with a comically large pair of metal scissors. You stood with George and the directors of the hospital for some press photos before being shown inside. You greeted some of the doctors who would be making use of all the new equipment that had been installed, slowly making your way to one of the wards. You easily tuned out the snapping of cameras as the ward nurse turned to you.

“Your highness’,” She said curtsying politely. “The children are all really excited to see you, they haven’t stopped talking about your visit for weeks,” She said with a soft smile on her face.

“So these children have been here for a while then?” You ask, your heart breaking a little.

“Yes, this ward is for children currently undergoing treatment for various types of cancer so their stay tends to be much longer than usual,” She says as the door is slid open. As you step inside you are greeted by a room full of smiling faces from patients in hospital beds to siblings, parents and grandparents standing around their bedsides. The room was quite spacious with a small area in the corner with some books and toys in.

The little girl in the first bed was holding up a welcome sign that had been decorated with little tiaras and racing cars.

“We all helped,” She said looking at the other kid.

“It's beautiful, I love the glitter on the racing cars,” You say laughing a little.

“Jackson wanted racing cars so we compromised on the glitter,” She says and you look over to Jackson who just rolled his eyes. You spent your time talking to each child, answering any questions they had for you. After about half an hour George had seemed to have accumulated all of the children around one bed, talking to them about racing. Unsurprisingly, Jackson was the most vocal in the group, proclaiming He was going to be a formula one driver one day.

As He spoke to the children you took the opportunity to talk to some of the parents.

“I am in awe of you all, I don’t even know what I’d do in your positions,” You say honestly.

“We do what we have to do,” One of the fathers says. “When Tilly was diagnosed we were fortunately in a position where we could take the time off of work to be here with her, that's what matters at the end of the day,” He adds and the rest of the group seem to nod in agreement.

“He would make a great father you know,” A slightly older lady said from next to you.

“I know He would,” You reply with a smile, watching as he laughed and joked with the children, doing his best to answer some pretty complex questions about racing.

“He acts the same way my late husband did with our children, had the patience of a saint,” She adds, noticing that he kept asking the kids that were a bit quieter if they had any questions

“You were really great with those kids today,” You say to your husband as you’re getting ready for bed. “All the parents around me said that you were a natural,” You added with a smile as you pulled your pyjamas on.

“I mean there’s always been little kids in the family so I guess I grew up around them,” He says as he rests against the headboard, thumb holding open the pages of a book.

“Have you ever thought about our kids before?” You ask as you switch the main light off before climbing into bed; only Georges bedside lamp illuminating the room.

“I have,” He says with a smile. “I imagine us having three”

“I was thinking three…” You say at the same time causing you both to laugh. “Well at least that's decided,” You add. George had slotted his bookmark in before putting the book down and turning to you.

“Did you have an idea of when you want these hypothetical children?” He asks, causing you to grin.

“I was thinking we could start trying now…” You ask, running your finger up and down his bare chest.

You threw the covers off of you as quickly as you could, rushing into the bathroom and kneeling over the toilet; you had been feeling rough for days but this was the first time something was actually threatening to come up.

“Please let me call the doctor,” George asks as he eventually follows behind you, kneeling next to you and holding your hair.

“I’m late,” You admit to him.

“It's two in the morning, you’re not late Darling,” He says with a chuckle.

“No…I’m late, my period is late,” You clarify; it had been a few months since you had started trying so you weren’t entirely surprised when you woke up one morning feeling like this.

“Let’s get you back into bed and I’ll call for the doctor,” He says, kissing the side of your head. You stayed there for a few minutes before that bout of nausea had passed, you wiped your mouth and George helped you back into bed. He left you for a few moments to use the phone in the living room. He comes back a few moments later and sits on the side of your bed. “The doctor will be here in a few minutes and I also sent Adam out to get a few pregnancy tests,” He says, gently rubbing your leg.

“You shouldn’t have woken Adam, we could have gotten one in the morning,” You say as you wrapped the blankets around you tightly.

“Darling, it’s fine,” He says, there’s a knock on the bedroom door and George gets up to open it.

“I’m sorry to need you at this early hour Doctor,” You say as she walks in.

“It’s fine Ma’am, that’s what I’m here for,” She said with a comforting smile. You tell her how you’ve been feeling and she takes your temperature, just as there’s another knock on the door.

“The pregnancy tests you asked for Sir,” Adam says, handing the boxes to George.

“When was your last period?” The doctor asks, making note of everything you were saying.

“Um .. about six weeks ago,” You say honestly.

“Then my professional opinion is that you need to take one of these,” She says with a slight laugh as she takes the pregnancy test out of the box and hands it to you. You take it from her and head into the bathroom. You peed on the stick, replacing the cap so nobody had to touch it. You hand it back to her and sit next to George on the bed.

“If you need anything else you know where I am,” Adam says before taking his leave. Around fifteen minutes later the doctor got up from her chair with a wide smile on her face.

‘Congratulations Ma’am,” She says handing you the pregnancy test. “I’ll leave you two alone, don’t hesitate to call for me if you have any questions,” She says before leaving as well.

“We’re having a baby,” You say quietly, staring down at the white plastic stick in your hands and the word ‘positive’ written across it.

“I love you so much,” George says ,wrapping an arm around you and pulling you in for a kiss.

KensingtonPalace

Liked by BuckinghamPalace and 3,910,582 others

KensingtonPalace It is with great joy for the palace to announce the news that their Royal Highness' The Prince and Princess of Wales are expecting their first child together.

His Majesty The King was the first to be informed of the news and is overjoyed at the news of his first grandchild.

HRHPrincessofWales 🤍🤍🤍

F1 Congratulations from your F1 family 🤍

View other 7,294 comments...

You made it your first mission today to tell your father; protocol stated that He should be the first to know.

“Father,” You said, knocking on the door to his private office.

“Darling, I wasn’t expecting to see you or George today,” He says standing up from his desk as you walk in, closing the door behind you.

“We didn’t expect to be here today either,” George says with a smile.

“Right, ok, what’s going on?” He asks, inviting you both to sit.

“Do you want to?” You ask George, a confused expression still written across your fathers face.

“I can do,” He asks and you nod. “Y/n was seen by the doctor this morning, and it turns out that she is…we are, having a baby,” He explains and your fathers face quickly changes into one of joy.

“That is wonderful news, congratulations,” He says, getting up to pull you into a hug. “I’m so proud of you Y/N,” He says, placing a kiss on your forehead. He shakes George's hand before saying congratulations again. For the next few hours you spent visiting your Mother and sister before calling George’s family.

It wouldn’t be a few months until there was an official statement made by the palace, but you were both content in knowing that it was your little secret.

8 months later...

KensingtonPalace

Liked by BBCNews and 6,301,404 others

KensingtonPalace Her Royal Highness, The Princess of Wales was safely delivered of a son at 11.27pm yesterday.

The Prince of Wales was present at the birth and both Mother and baby are doing very well.

His Majesty The King, as well as other members of both families have been delivered the news and are delighted at the birth of HRH.

'After long consideration we have decided to name him Theodore and we cannot even begin to describe the amount of love we have for him' - HRH Prince of Wales

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Theodore, Theo for short, was born late last night after around 10 hours of labour. You were so grateful to George who was by your side the entire time, doing anything you needed to. He held Theo as you got dressed, zipping up your dress and slipping on the pair of heels that had been picked out for you. You had been discharged a few hours ago and due to the weather were unable to take the first photos of your new family on the steps of the hospital so it had been moved inside Buckingham Palace

George laced his fingers into yours as you walked into the hall, the flash of cameras starting as soon as they spotted you. There were probably 30 or 40 reporters waiting for you, snapping a photo every time you moved.

“Is there a name yet your highness’?” One reporter asked, His first name had been announced but not his full name.

“There is,” You said with a smile. “Theodore Henry Philip George, but we will be calling him Theo,” You say, answering the question. You waited a few more moments before turning and heading back into the family room where both yours and George’s families were waiting to meet little Theo. Your Mum and Dad had already had their time with Theo so stayed seated, letting George’s parents coo and fuss over him. George was holding him as you took a seat on the sofa, absolutely exhausted from the past 24 hours.

You were sitting in your private gardens at home; enjoying the warm summer day. Theo, who recently celebrated his first birthday, sitting on your lap babbling at George who was sitting opposite you, waving his cuddly bear around. Theo reached out to grab it only for George to playfully rub it against his chest, erupting fits of giggles from him.

You loved the peacefulness that the last few days had afforded you, you had miraculously had no official engagements to attend to. Which was a very rare occurrence so the both of you were making the most of it. Spending as much time together and with Theo as you possibly could.

A pointed cough interrupted your peace, you looked up to see Adam. In a state you don’t think you had ever seen him in before.

“Adam, is everything ok?” You ask as George gives Theo the bear before turning around.

“Sir, may I speak to you in private for a moment?” He asks George who puts a reassuring hand on your knee.

“I’ll be back in a moment Darling,” He says before walking away with Adam. They went inside and you could barely see them through the window; all you could see was Adam putting his hand on, what you assumed, was George's shoulder. You start to bounce Theo on your knees, trying to distract yourself from whatever was happening inside Kensington. A few moments later George stepped back outside. Diana, Theo’s nanny behind him.

“Darling, Diana is going to take Theo and then you and I are going to go for a walk,” He says, confusing you even more.

“What, why?” You ask, handing your son over.

“Please, walk with me?” He asks, offering his arm to you. You walk quietly to a more secluded area of the garden, hedge walls high enough that nobody would be able to see you. He sat you down on a stone bench before turning towards you.

“George, you're scaring me, what's going on?” You ask, voice wavering. You noticed that he didn’t try to immediately reassure you that everything was ok, instead he took your hands into his.

“Around an hour ago, your father was rushed into hospital,” He said softly, rubbing his thumb along the back of your hand. Tears welling up in the corners of your eyes, not wanting to hear what he was going to say next.

“Don’t tell me,” You beg.

“I’m so sorry Darling,” He says, swiftly pulling you into his arms, wrapping them around you tightly.

“He’s gone?” You ask looking up at him, and George just nods.

“They think it was a heart attack, He died about twenty minutes ago,” He says, holding you against him, his hand moving to stroke your hair. “I am so sorry My love,” He says again, giving you time and space to feel what you needed to feel; as He knew that as soon as you left the safety of this Garden you wouldn’t be Y/N anymore.

You spent about an hour, sitting quietly and crying into George’s chest, not wanting to face the new reality. When you finally pulled away from him he moved his hand to wipe the tears from your face.

“Take as much time as you need, there is no rush,” He says quietly; you quickly compose yourself. Letting the fresh air remove the blotches from your tear-stained face before you slowly walked back towards the palace. Diana was sitting on the grass with Theo and quickly stood up when she saw you round the corner.

“Your Majesty,” She said, curtsying as she held Theo in her arms. Being called that for the first time almost knocked your breath from your throat but you just smiled as She held out your Son.

“Thank you Diana, you may go now,” You say, taking Theo from her. He tried to wrap his little arms around you, almost as if He knew that something was wrong. Now it was the three of you who stood there, all in eachothers arms.

“Ma…Ma…Mama,” Theo said and both your eyes lit up.

“Yes baby, I’m your Mama,” You said, holding him close to you as a mix of happy and sad tears fell from your eyes. George was still trying to process the information from earlier so couldn’t do anything except watch as his wife interacted with their son.

“Ma’am, your car is waiting to take you to Buckingham Palace,” Adam says, interrupting the moment.

“We’ll be there in a moment, we need to get changed first,” You say, taking a deep breath before you all head inside. As you entered your bedroom you noticed that your mourning outfits had been laid out ready for you. You both silently changed; your long floral summer dress turning into a stiff black dress and blazer. You sat on the edge of the bed as you slipped your heels on, George changing Theo into a more appropriate outfit. Next to your outfit sat a hat box, inside was a black headband with some netting to cover your face; your hands shook as you stood in front of the mirror attempting to place it on your head.

“Pass it here,” George said from behind you, you passed him the headband as He gave you Theo. He gently slid it into your hair, kissing the back of your head when He was done. You quietly headed downstairs, Theo securely on your hip as you held him. Diana had gotten changed and was ready to take Theo as He was coming with you.

The car door was opened and you climbed inside with George quickly following. You knew the drive from Kensington to Buckingham like the back of your hand, you had done it nearly every day for years; but it felt like centuries until you got there. It had obviously been released to the media as there were swathes of people outside the palace, laying flowers in front of the wrought iron gates. The official notice on an easel just inside. As you drove through the crowds of people you could see the tear stained faces, the impact that your fathers life had on his people.

You only hope you’d amount to half of that.

I hope you enjoyed pt.2! There is a part 3 currently in my drafts and that will more than likely be the final part unless I do any mini fics. Thank you all for all your love and support, - E x

#f1 #f1 imagine #pierre gasly #charles leclerc #pierre gasly x reader #charles leclerc x y/n #charles leclerc x you #formula 1 imagine #formula one x reader #max verstappen #george russel imagine #george russel x reader #george russell #george russell x reader

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thatsdemko · 2 years

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secrets out - m.verstappen

masterlist

requested: n

pairings: max verstappen x reader

warnings: mentions of pregnancy + anxious thoughts + mentions of hookups + instagram au at the end

photo credits: Pinterest

a/n: I’m starting to like max but I’m still a Ferrari girl 🫡 also please do not ever ask me to do a instagram au that was a lot of work and I was sweating because of it I don’t know how some of you can do it!

most friendships between a man and a woman never stay platonic. the key word was most, and unfortunately you fell into that category because for a little over a year your childhood best friend became your fuck buddy.

you’re not sure when it started or how it happened, but it was an evening you wouldn’t forget because it change the trajectory of both of your lives forever.

you could barely be in the same room for long without feeling that sexual magnetic pole pull you from the across the room and under the sheets. you barely had conversations anymore, most of your time consisted of raw passionate sex.

and that’s what’s led you to this moment. sitting on the cold hotel bathroom tile hunched over the toilet. you swore to max it was just the alcohol or food poisoning, but he’s not confident in your answer. not since it’s been two mornings in a row you’ve ended up like this.

“I’ll see you at the paddock?” he leans behind your body, hand pressing against your forehead to check your temperature. he couldn’t afford to get sick, not ahead of the race, and you knew that, but you couldn’t be sick. you have a perfect health record.

“yeah, I’ll be down as soon as I can.” you removed your eyes from the empty toilet bowl and over to him. concern washed over his face, out of all the years he’s known you, he’s never seen you so down bad before.

you sent him a fake smile that was supposed to confirm your words, but all it did was worsen his anxiety. he couldn’t leave you, but he had a job to deliver and despite him wanting to take care of you, you wouldn’t allow him to. not with an important race on the line.

“go, I promise I’ll be there.”

—

Isa helped you look presentable ahead of joining the Red Bull garage. she had heard from the grapevine that you weren’t feeling well, and when she arrived to your room she began getting you in the right direction to get up and go to the paddock.

isa was the only one who knew that you and max had been seeing each other beyond your friendship. many drunk moons ago you had admitted to your feelings and to your situationship (if it was even that) to her and she’s since then never told a soul.

“a stomach bug? we both ate the same thing yesterday? are you sure it’s not something else?” she’s whispering at this point, she knows the media’s presence was intense and they could pick up on anything and tell the public with a simple tweet. the internet was already suspicious of you and max, and hearing you both discuss illness could add more to the table.

“what else could it be? it’s been going on for two days now.” your eyes flickered around you hearing cameras shutter, reporters talking, and team members shuffling along. all it took was for one person to stop at the same time Isa did for you.

“have you thought about being pregnant?” her hands grabbed your arm not allowing you to walk away. she tilts her sunglasses down her nose, you can see she’s serious and not joking around. the thought never crossed your mind.

“I haven’t no, but max and I have been so careful and you know I’m on the pill.” your words are defensive feeling the anxiety rise in your body as you began to think about it. you couldn’t leave the paddock without someone in Monaco recognizing you, and you were damn sure you or her couldn’t buy a pregnancy test without someone finding out.

“you could just be sick, but isn’t it better to be safe and check?” she asks, her head slightly nods in the direction behind you. turning around, you see the Dutchman himself, Red Bull hat and collared shirt on ready for media day.

“I guess so.”

—

it’s nearly after midnight when max is sound asleep, and you’re in the bathroom carefully reading the instructions to the pregnancy test Isa had delivered to your hotel room. you’re thankful for whoever ran out to get it, because all day you couldn’t eat without feeling nauseous about being pregnant. you needed to know more than you could imagine.

you could barely think of anything else while you sat on the cold tile awaiting the results. you tried to occupy your mind with social media, games, etc. but your mind kept pulling back to the timer on your phone and the blue stick that sat in front of you.

you’ve had your fair share of pregnancy scares before with max, and he’s never needed to know. you would just take the test, see it’s negative, and then throw it away. but the sudden illness was not helping you ease the burden of possibly being pregnant. it was such a scary thing and so much responsibility, you knew max wasn’t ready, he hadn’t even asked you to be his girlfriend despite the numerous amount of dates he’s taken you on. being a father was a lot of ask from him.

the bell chimes of your timer quickly pulled you from your thoughts. you flipped the stick over immediately to see what your gut had been telling you the whole time. pregnant.

the pit of your stomach dropped as tears began to stream down your cheeks. how were you supposed to tell him? how were you sure he wanted this? how were you sure you even wanted this? all these things were beginning to add weight to your sobs and eventually max was woken up to the muffled sobs in the bathroom.

“y/n?” he pushed open the bathroom door to reveal you to him. knees shoved against your chest, body shaking as you cried. he slid down beside you pulling you into him. he saw the blue stick sitting on the floor, he didn’t dare to read the results, but he figured your tears were enough to tell him everything he needed to know.

“it’s okay, I’m here.” he says and it’s like you’re five all over again, except you’re not being bullied on the playground, you’re both facing the harsh realities of a years long hookup.

“it’s not okay, max.” you’re trying to push your body away from him, but ultimately fail. you don’t have the strength to do so, your body is tired and you felt safe in his arms. you didn’t want to pull away even if you tried once more.

“why’s it not okay? because you’re pregnant? is that why?” he removes his arms from around you, searching for tissues to wipe your tears. he’s not sure how he feels, but he doesn’t dare let that show to you.

“I know that’s not what you want.”

“not what I want?” he asks pulling away and moving to sit in front of you now. his index finger taps you under the chin to lift your head up from being tucked into your shell, “you are what I want, and being the father to our child is a blessing despite the way it happened.”

“you want to do this with me?” you ask, a little smile peaking onto your lips, he does the same but his is fuller and much more confident than yours, “absolutely.”

“you know that means we have to tell everyone we’ve been secretly seeing each other for awhile.” you can hear your father telling you he has heart failure because of this.

“the reaction on my mothers face will be priceless.”

—

yourusername

yourusername cats out of the bag! surprise! new Red Bull team member coming soon❤️ @ maxverstappen1

liked by pierregasly, christianhorner, formula1, and 1,238,986 others

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redbullracing 😁😁

maxverstappen1 ❤️

Isahernaez yaya!

f1wags new driver loading…

Victoriaverstappen luka and lio can’t wait for play dates!

user1 after everything we’ve been through @ yourusername??? what about our kids?

| yourusername don’t worry I’m not leaving you and our kids 🫡 I’ll leave @ maxverstappen1 for you

Charles_leclerc praying it’s a Ferrari fan 🤞🏻

| yourusername keep wishing!

#max verstappen #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen x you #max verstappen imagine #max verstappen fanfic #max verstappen fluff #max verstappen instagram au #formula 1 #f1 #f1 imagine #formula 1 x reader #f1 x reader #f1 driver x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 driver x you #formula 1 x you #f1 instagram au

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raven-at-the-writing-desk · 11 months

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LITERALLY BIG BRO BEHAVIOR

***Stage in Playful Land spoilers below the cut!!**

HALP I'M DYING OTL NO ONE WARNED ME WE'D BE IN L*ONA BIG BRO ERA FOR THIS EVENT SDH FIUPABDFAIHBAEFIODGVYQEGFOIVQEGABI;FwovgucABHVGADVOBpfgovaevgqetoBn;j.qegk[ppu9hq709tr31pgyqeinbsdaihovfdvaoadgudvdtSVDG

Uhhh basically Ferro encourages the NRC boys to invite others to join them at Playful Land; Jamil, Riddle, Azul, and Idia outright reject it for their own reasons (it obviously sounds shady as heck, IT'S A WEEKDAY SO WE CAN'T SKIP SCHOOL, Azul doesn’t want to owe anyone, and amusement parks are where extroverts hang out). Some of the others decide to come along with, including Vil (who says he is looking out for his underclassmen but also admits to being interested in the performances of the park) and Lilia and Cater (who want to be amused and to have fun with their club member Kalim, who would be sad without their company). BUT THEN YOU GET TO TTREY AND L*ONA WHO aRE PURELY JUST TAGGING ALONG TO WATCH OVER THE FIRST YEARSE (although Trey does it upon Deuce's request) 💀 L*ONA'S JUST THER ELIKE "this is hella sus, I'm NOT going," UNTIL JACK SAYS HE'S GOING HIMSELF BECUASE HE MADE A PROMISE TO fERRO AND HE CAN'T BREAK HIS PROMISE... L*ONA SAID HE'S JUST GOING TO BRING "THE IDIOTS" HOME ?????? ??????? ??? HBJABYUFQVUOEFVYQEFOUTQEF23698RP937PNGWM,DV,KADVJINPGWBQEGIPBUQGENP

HE cOULD TELL JACK TO fUCK OFF OR THAT IF SoME ShIT GoES DIWN iT’S 100% oN HIM. GE CoULD IGNORE IT AnD cATcH UP ON HIS BEAauTY SLEEP, CONSErvE hIS ENERGY… BUT L*ONA DOESn’T, HE MAKES THE DECISION HIMSE TO PULL THROUGH FOR HIS KOUHAI… TO MAKE SURE THEY'RE SAFE AND THEY COME BACK ALRIGHT... NO ONE HAD TO CONVINCE HIM TO GO... AnD HE EVEN REMIDS THE THIRd YEARS TO STAY FOCUSED CUZ THEymRE THERE TO WATCH THE LITTLE ONES

YoU JNOW EHQt YHIS IS, L*ONa?????? THIS is GREATER BIG HROTHER BEHAVIOR THAN EVEN TREy 😭 YOu’TE NOT BEATING THE BIG BRO ALLEgATIOONS AnYTIME SOOn, BiTCH… LEONA "I don't give a fuck about the kids but I actually give a fuck about the kids" KINGSCHOLAR, LADIES AND GENTS (AND NONBINARIES)… HE'S SO GONNA GO, "I-It's not like I care about you/want to protect you or anything, you're just in my way, so get behind me" TO THE KIDDIES, I JUST KNOW HE WILL………………… …….. ……………. …… …. .. . ….. . . .. …….. … . .. . .

I’’M FR GONi FNG ThROYGJ AlL 5 STAGES oF GRiEF, IM So ILL RN

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houserautha · 4 months

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These Destined Ends

Part Sixteen

Summary: Jessica fulfilled the wishes of the Bene Gesserits to produce a daughter. You’re now burdened with the task of not only marrying the na-Baron, but also bearing his child — the Kwisatz Haderach. Will you take your fate into your own hands? Or will it always belong to those who control you?

Pairings: Feyd-Rautha x F!Reader

Warnings: there’s a Fremen orgy, Chani joins in with Feyd and reader, oral sex f receiving, oral sex m receiving, Feyd gives you a facial

Word Count: 4.8k

A/N: Yes, I’m still alive and updating, I promise😭(Also Chani really just pulls a Peeta in this part)

When Feyd wakes in the night, wrenched from his slumber by nightmares, you’re there to bring him back to reality. The wild look in his eyes stays with you, though, even after they close and he returns to a restless sleep.

“What are you doing?” You hiss at the healer one night after a particularly bad nightmare.

Feyd whimpers as you pass your hand over his smooth brow. The healer is at his side, collecting the slightly blue-tinged sweat that glistens his skin and bottling it in a glass container.

“The Water of Life,” the healer says in way of explanation, then slips away.

Ignoring your mother’s advice to assimilate with the sietch, you’ve stayed by Feyd’s side most days. But you seek her out now, presiding over a small group of Fremen who kneel at her feet. Her mouth purses unhappily as she realizes who has stolen the attention from her.

“What do you want?” She demands when you pull her aside. Her voice reverberates through the halls, a side effect to the hollowed out caverns.

You curb your annoyance. Jessica won’t tell you anything if you snip at her. “Tell me about what they’re giving Feyd-Rautha.”

“More poison,” she says after a pause, “there had to be a way to counteract the poison in his veins. What kind of paranoid —”

“I dosed on the poison too,” you snap. “Why don’t I take the same thing?”

Jessica’s eyes flash. “The poison has been in his system longer. He almost died because we couldn’t figure out why he was going through withdrawal. Without know what he dosed on, we used the only thing strong enough to save him.”

“Why do they collect it? His sweat.”

“They use the recycled poison for…recreational reasons,” she says.

You frown. “What do you mean?”

“I suspect you’ll see soon.”

You keep careful watch over Feyd’s injuries and his care, semi-grateful that he phases in and out of consciousness. Your stomach revolts against any food you eat and morning sickness plagues you constantly — he hasn’t noted it, yet, but you’re afraid for when he recovers and reverts to his usual observant self.

From Jessica’s prying gaze you can tell she’s judgmental of your decision not to let Feyd know of the pregnancy. You don’t owe her an explanation, though, so you keep it a secret, which is all fine and well until the supposed Water of Life quickens his already heightened healing.

Feyd perches on the edge of the makeshift bed, the hint of a smile on his mouth as you approach. You swallow your surprise. A healer is adjusting the bandaging around his middle, and you catch a glimpse of the wound before they finish. It’s still pink and raw but mostly healed, just another mark to join the hundreds of others crisscrossing his muscled form.

“Are you ill?” Feyd asks.

“I’m fine,” you say quickly. “How are you?”

“Better now.”

You send away the healer and cross the room to his side. “Did they mention anything…weird?”

Feyd frowns, brow creasing. “No. I know what you’re referring to, however, there’s a strange tension in the air.” He clears his throat. “I was hoping to take a walk with you.”

We need to talk alone.

“Of course.”

You move to help him to his feet but he waves you away. Without giving a certain destination, you just lead Feyd through the winding tunnels of the sietch until you reach a small outing. The duel suns beam down on you. “I didn’t miss this,” you remark as he beckons you up an incline.

“I need to ensure that we’re alone,” Feyd says.

“I doubt we ever really are.” You sweep the sandy horizon. “They don’t trust us.”

“Understandably.”

“Listen, Feyd —”

He cuts you off. “Tell me everything that’s happened. I feel inadequately prepared. I-I don’t know what’s real or not.”

“Are you sure you don’t want to talk to me about that first?” You press, risking his irritation.

“No.”

You bite down on the inside of your cheek. What did you expect exactly? You take a moment to gather your thoughts. “Nothing…much. I spoke to them on our behalf. Upon Jessica’s request.”

“Jessica?” His head swivels. “Your Mother?”

You nod, somewhat somberly. “She survived Rabban’s attack and has become the Sayyadina. A sort of…spiritual mother.”

Feyd grunts a reply. Not for the first time, you wish that you could pry open his skull and peer into his thoughts. He’s lost weight since the crash, his cheekbones standing out starkly in his face. Although he still cuts an imposing figure, aided certainly by his sharp tongue, his body is not as powerful as it once was. You realize he’s been covertly trying to catch his breath since your short climb up the sandy incline.

“You almost died, Feyd,” you say quietly. “Recovery is going to be —”

His jaw feathers. “You should’ve let me die.”

“What?” When he doesn’t explain himself, you continue, “What are you talking about?”

“I told you not to sacrifice yourself for me. By trying to keep me alive you were opposing my wish and risking your life.”

“I have no life without you,” you whisper furiously.

Feyd’s dark eyes flicker. A look of conflicted torment crosses his face and he finally pulls his gaze from you, back to the desert. “One of us must stay alive to get revenge on our enemies.”

“Oh, that’s why?” You bitterly ask.

“I can’t be worried about you jeopardizing yourself for my sake,” he says, softer. “Obviously that is my top priority. But we are the only ones who can dismantle the Emperor.”

“This is what you wanted to talk to me about?”

“We need to figure out our next steps.”

You exhale a stream of air. “Fine. What are you thinking?”

“The Fremen haven’t heard anything from The Baron?”

“Not that they’ve deigned to share with me.”

“They must believe us dead,” Feyd mutters.

“Like my mother.”

“She will certainly be an asset in this war.”

The word war sends a chill down your spine. Of course you knew that it was happening, but to hear it explicitly said is something different. “They underestimate us again and again,” you say to him, offering him a grim smile.

Feyd picks up your hand and presses a kiss to your knuckles. “Their greatest mistake.”

The both of you sit there for quite some time, discussing strategy, before commotion within the sietch draws you back. You don’t miss the way that Feyd walks behind you possessively, hovering, your dark shadow.

“What’s going on?” You ask one of the passing Fremen.

They shake off your hand but appear too excited to give you a reprimand. “The Water of Life ceremony. We must make preparations.”

“They keep saying that — Water of Life,” Feyd comments lowly.

“I’m afraid to ask,” you reply. Does he know that it’s made of his own perspiration?

You’re still not quite accustomed to the winding tunnels of the sietch and this is Feyd’s first time navigating, so you’re both helpless. You end up just following a large group of Fremen into the center of the sietch, curiosity leading you. The music pumping through the space reminds you of a heartbeat, making the hollowed out walls the ribcage that it rattles.

You can feel Feyd’s skepticism from behind you just by the stiffness of his limbs. “Would it kill you to smile?”

“Yes,” he rasps. His breath on your neck makes your toes curl in your boots.

You find a place on the outskirts of the celebration to stand and observe, watching as more and more Fremen cram into the room. The music lifts and circles around you, impossibly loud, joined now by the sound of drums. Duel suns begin their descent and it’s not until darkness has shut like a curtain on the outside world that the chorus of feminine voices begin. It’s quite beautiful, really, chilling. Moonlight pools into the sietch from a hole in the ceiling and illuminates the women singing, lilting and ethereal, passing the container of blue liquid.

You bristle slightly at the sight of it.

“What?” Feyd asks. His gaze is still fixated on the crowd, enraptured with the strange ceremony.

“Nothing,” you say.

You can tell he wants to press the matter but the words die on his tongue — like a breeze rippling over water, starting in the center and moving outward, Fremen begin to dance. It’s like nothing you’ve seen before, strangely elegant and moving, tanned limbs flashing in the light. And as soon as the dancing begins so does the sounds of flesh on flesh, of mouths meeting, bodies tangling together. Surprise flares through you.

Orgies are, of course, nothing new to you. There were plenty on Giedi Prime. But you didn’t expect the Fremen to engage in such indulgences, yet it made sense the more you watched. Sharing your waters with someone was deeply personal, which inevitably happened during sex in some variety. The Water of Life appeared to be the catalyst to this behavior, entrancing the Fremen and loosening their inhibitions.

Feyd pushes his front to yours, cock hardened already. One hand encircles around your waist while the other goes to your throat, thumb pressed to your fluttering pulse.

“You look ravishing tonight, jewel,” he whispers, his lips on the shell of your ear.

You suppress a shiver at his words, your cunt contracting in anticipation. His mouth travels just below your ear now, brushing over the sensitive skin there.

“We’re not welcomed here yet,” you remind him, “I don’t know if we’re exactly invited to…join.”

“Of course you are.”

You turn your head, still entrapped in Feyd’s embrace, who doesn’t seem the least bit guilty to be caught in such a promising position. In the dark it’s hard to tell who spoke but you notice the delicate features off the glint of torchlight, contrasted by the hardness in her eyes. Chani hovers nearby, wavering slightly and clearly under the influence of the Water of Life.

“It would be rude not to,” she adds.

“You’re very generous but we really should be going —”

At the same time, Feyd asks, “Do you want a taste?”

Silence throbs between the three of you. She steps closer. Feyd, hard and muscled behind you and Chani, lean and beautiful, in front of you. Desire nips at your more reasonable senses, with teeth sharp and wanting. Feyd keeps his hands on you as Chani closes the distance.

“This can be a lot for an outsider,” she says.

There’s no mistaking the challenge in her words. Feyd bristles slightly, clearly ready to intervene no matter your answer. You appreciate this, and paste a smile to your face. “Hopefully after tonight I will no longer be one.”

“We’ll see, na-Baroness.”

Chani grabs you with both hands and slots her mouth over yours.

The kiss is so different compared to Feyd’s — even the way she spit out your title instead of saying it in awe — that shock seizes you, rendering you motionless until Chani parts your lips and her tongue slips inside.

She tastes of cinnamon, fresh dew, the heat of the desert slipping into the coolness of night. You want to ask how her opinion of you had changed so drastically but it’s clear that she’s testing your tolerance of Fremen traditions, more probing than lustful. Feyd’s fingers dip below your waistband and your breath hitches.

“I don’t usually share,” Feyd says to Chani, voice low and rasping, “do you realize how lucky you are?”

Chani snags your lower lip with her teeth, voice dripping with sarcasm, “Oh, certainly.”

“I urge you to respect what’s mine,” he retorts. Although your eyes are closed, your body limp and fluid-like between the both of them, you can imagine the wicked glint in his gaze.

“Fremen don’t believe in possessing others,” Chani challenges. She bows against you as Feyd finds your clit, provoking a moan from you.

Feyd inserts a digit into your cunt as he says, “Then you’ve never known anyone you’re afraid of losing.”

Chani works to remove your shirt while Feyd pleases you with his fingers, nimble and skilled. He grinds his hips against your ass and holds you to him as Chani captures one of your nipples with her mouth, your head lolling back in response. The familiarity of Feyd’s warmth mixed with Chani’s touch is almost too much for you to handle, her wet mouth hardening your nipples as she releases them to be exposed to the air.

“Now get your taste,” Feyd says to Chani.

She sucks your juices from his fingers but there’s no pleasure in the act, only the burning sensation of her eyes on you as she licks him clean.

Exhilarated by the two, you wiggle free of Feyd and give Chani a light push. “Allow me.”

Obediently, she falls back onto a flat surface of rock. It’s tricky, at first, to remove the stillsuit but you’re emboldened by Feyd’s presence in your peripheral. He murmurs encouraging words to you as he strokes himself, large hand sliding up and down his length. Finally you free Chani of the lower part of her stillsuit and, in a single, swift movement, part her legs.

A patch of dark, curled hair greets you at the apex of her thighs. Her skin is soft, body slender, hipbones earning two open-mouthed kisses. She writhes eagerly. Admittedly, you’ve never been with a woman before but you know your own cunt well enough to hopefully be of service to her. She releases a breath of surprise when you lick a stripe up her center.

Determined to show her just how adaptive you can really be, you guide her legs over your shoulders as you settle. You explore, at first, testing what would invoke the most reaction from her, running your tongue through her folds. Once you understand exactly where it is she wants you to suck and lick and pamper, you use your mouth to give her exactly that.

And you realize that you enjoy it — enjoy her — despite the implications of the act. Sure, you’re trying to prove yourself but now you can think of nothing but bringing Chani to orgasm. You want to draw from her the shuddering delight, to feel her squirm as you pin her with your hands and your mouth, to show her that you are a force to be reckoned with.

Curiously, sensing that she’s close, you release one hand from her to tease her entrance with your fingers, gathering the wetness there. You revoke, slightly, to admire your work. Her juices coat your lips and chin. She bucks her hips in protest at the absence of you and you extend your apology in the shape of your fingers sliding into her cunt, curling, beckoning for her.

Chani’s thighs clench around you. It’s enough to invite you back to her, press your mouth to her, joining together with your fingers as you start to coax her to orgasm.

“You’re so wet for me,” you murmur to her, hoping the vibrations of your voice transfer.

Chani lifts her head to glare at you, though her eyes are lidded blissfully. “I hate you,” she says through gritted teeth. She shudders at the change in pace of your ministrations, responding to her words with renewed passion.

“Say it again,” you order her.

Her head falls back and her body bows. “I hate you.” Chani swallows, throat working as she fights the inevitable. “I hate you. I hate you.”

Chani’s cry of release mingles with those of others around you, seeking their own pleasures. A spike of triumphant stabs through you. You’re hopelessly horny now, your own thighs slick, and you’ve just conceived the notion to give yourself attention when there’s movement in the corner of your eye. Feyd undresses quickly, looking like some sort of malicious phantom in the moonlight, paler and taller than most of the Fremen.

“I will take care of you,” he says, words drenched with lust, “so that you can continue to take care of her.”

“Don’t you dare touch me,” Chani warns to him.

Feyd positions himself behind you, sinking to his knees. His touch is gentle as it descends down your spine, affectionately grazing over each knob until finally he presses a kiss at the nape of your neck. “Will you tell her that I would never dream of touching anyone but my beloved?”

You open your mouth to say as much, breaking from your sentry at Chani’s cunt, but Feyd effectively stops you from getting out the words. There’s a moment of temporary discomfort as he thrusts his cock inside you but the friction that you’ve so badly needed feels excruciatingly wonderful, and you back out in surprise.

“By all means, don’t stop on my account,” Feyd rasps as he snaps his hips up into you.

He keeps you secured with one hand around your waist while the other grabs hold of Chani’s ankles. She struggles against his grip but ultimately relents as you draw her clit into your mouth and suck, the force of Feyd’s thrust rocking you forward ever so slightly. It doesn’t take very long until you’re slick enough that he can push into you without resistance, and the feeling of being cleaved in half melts into complete bliss.

It’s a moment of transcendency, floating to a higher plane as your pleasure crests. Feyd’s cock fills you so thoroughly — you missed it over the few weeks of his recovery, missed the feel of his powerful body against yours. And he’s clearly enraptured at the sight of you between Chani’s legs, each buck of his hips accompanied by whispered praises.

Your mind reels as you struggle to grasp your situation, so beyond anything you could’ve ever imagined. Chani grinding against you and Feyd fucking you from behind, both of them working in tandem to fill you with inexplicable ecstasy.

“Fuck, jewel,” Feyd pants out. His fingers dig into your side, keeping you steady.

You wiggle back against him appreciatively.

There’s an unspoken rhythm in this dance, this strange, wonderful dance, reminding you of the tides. If you break from Chani to kiss Feyd over your shoulder, she replaces her hand where your mouth was, and if you break from Feyd to properly lavish Chani, he pumps into you rapturously. And then there’s you, torn between them both, lost in your own place of existence.

Time stretches and broadens, one moment melting into the next. The wailing sound of drums and voices joins with the crowd of bodies, the air smelling distinctly of spice and sex. You swear that you feel strange hands graze across your skin, reach out to grab you, touch your hair. There’s no telling where your body begins and someone else ends and the only anchor to reality is Feyd’s presence behind you, the rasp of his breath as he fucks you.

Feyd doesn’t have to alert you to his climax, you recognize the familiar tautness of him, and then he’s spilling inside you, effortlessly lifting you up so that he can expel his seed. Chani watches this, chest heaving, mouth parted. If she notices the excess of black cum on your thighs, she says nothing, just tilts her head back and smirks.

“That was a good start,” she says.

The next morning, you’re surprised to find that most of the sietch has roused from their stupors. Not having indulged in the Water of Life, you and Feyd have no difficulty rising from your makeshift beds, besides your distinct soreness.

“Could it be that easy to get accepted?” You ask him as you both dress.

He makes a small noise. “Mm. A few orgasms and you think they’ll forget my family’s bloodshed?”

“It certainly helped in my case.”

Feyd casts a glare in your direction, lips twitching with reluctant humor. He says, infuriatingly casual, “I didn’t know you were interested in taking more than one partner.”

“Well, she didn’t give me much of a choice,” you reply, face burning slightly. The memory of Chani’s long legs over your shoulders flashes through your mind, how Feyd had held them in place. “If I refused her she would’ve taken it as reluctance to join their customs.”

His brows quirk.

“Okay, I didn’t hate it. But I’m not interested in other partners. You’re all I need.”

“That’s good to hear.”

“Did you doubt it?” You ask.

“I only wanted to hear it out loud.”

There is something in his voice that hooks behind your navel and pulls, the invisible tether between you both. “You could’ve just asked.”

“Ask you what?” He muses, stepping closer. “To prove that I’m the only one who can fuck you? That you belong, first and foremost, to me?” His proximity reminds you of the crackle of electricity before a lightning strike, a dangerous charge of energy. “Do you suggest I ask you to get on your knees and demonstrate your devotion?”

Your eyes dart traitorously to his plush lips. “You know I would do anything you ask of me.”

“Then kneel.”

Your knees hit the ground. You ignore the sharp bite of pain in favor for admiring the deft motion of his fingers at his buckle, eager to see what’s underneath. There’s yet to be a time that the sight of his cock hasn’t made your mouth water and your thighs slicken — your gaze runs up his shaft, threaded with veins, to the pale underside of his head. A gleam of pre-cum is visible near his slit that he smooths over with his fingers, transitioning it into a loose grip and drawing your attention back downwards.

“I don’t have to ask you to take my cock, do I?” He all but sneers at you.

It’s enough of an invitation for you to reach out and replace your hand with his. The blood in his veins, dark as ink, stands out against his skin. Giving into your impulses, you trace your tongue over each vein, flicking his head. You swear you can practically taste him, know the way that his blood would flood your mouth, imagine the rush of his seed down your throat.

And suddenly you can’t wait any longer to wrap your lips around his cock, subsequently forfeiting your control as Feyd gasps and, in response, thrusts deeper into your mouth. You gag. There’s a sick pleasure in the way he slides in and out, pushing himself past your lips and grabbing hold of the hair at the base of your skull, snapping his hips in short bursts.

You thought that he wanted you to prove your loyalty by lavishing him with your mouth but clearly he intends to challenge you — judge how well you will open and take his ruthless appraisal. Tears burn behind your eyes and saliva, having nowhere else to go as he fucks your throat, dribbles from the corners of your mouth, effectively coating his cock. Never one to be outdone, however, you manage to reach up between you and cup his balls, holding them tightly in your palm. Feyd inhales sharply.

It’s a brutal game of back and forth now, him bucking into you and you matching each thrust with your own touch, firmly squeezing and massaging him between your fingers. Oh, how you would love to pull his balls into your mouth. But the force with which he buries himself allows no room for any other action, just the quick, steady intrusion of his cock. You know already that tomorrow — hell, this afternoon — your throat will ache wonderfully. And while he always satisfies you, there’s something extra pleasing about the physical marks of his work, the proud artist signing his masterpiece.

And you, his canvas.

It’s not long before you feel the familiar warning shudder of him before he comes, the tightening in his balls that you’ve kept forcefully in your grasp. Feyd paints you with his cum then, warm ropes shooting across your face and tongue. He jolts once, twice, then stills, stroking himself until the end. Feyd surveys you, searching your face, then swipes at the seed from your cheek and pushes it into your mouth, thumb pressing down on your tongue.

You eagerly lick and suck from it, a satisfying suction sound resulting from him as he pulls out. “Just for me,” Feyd says approvingly. He glances over you again and adds, “You might want to clean up before we join the others.”

Glaring, but unable to hide your grin, you dart your tongue out to capture the residual cum near your mouth. “You think?”

The rest of that afternoon is helped pitching in wherever you can in a continuation of your test of worthiness. Feyd, still healing, is relinquished to minimal labor errands like ferrying messages but when the Fremen discover that he’s not exactly sociable, decide that he can tend to their subterranean garden. It makes you laugh to see him rooting through the weeds and hardy plants able to grow without much water, muttering.

You, on the other hand, have convinced the others that you are more than capable of handling yourself despite your “delicate condition”. This probably has to do with your mother’s influence but you frankly don’t care — at least you can leave the suffocating odor and closeness of the sietch, venturing out for shorts stints to hunt small desert animals and perimeter checks.

Of course, neither of you are left alone. Chani has delegated herself to be your perpetual guardian, which you don’t know whether to take as a compliment or an insult. Either way, she refuses to acknowledge it, and you’re under the impression that she wants to make your life as difficult as possible.

This goes on for two months, Chani driving you to your limit in order to prove yourself. The man named Stilgar urges her to give you a break, in which you’re grateful that Feyd is never around, but she staunchly refuses. Every time Stilgar mentions the Messiah, you’re struck with panic; in an effort of self-conservation you’ve successfully ignored your pregnancy despite the occasional boughts of nausea. But as time goes by it gets harder and harder as the life inside you grows and forces your attention to it.

There’s still no physical indication of your pregnancy, but you’re starting to fear that someone will tell Feyd or he’ll notice the bloat of your belly and say something. Stillsuits aren’t exactly fantastic maternity wear. How will you do your part in the Sietch if you can’t work?

These thoughts plague day in and day out, especially when Jessica preaches your contribution to their society, the sacrifice you’re making to bear them their savior. It makes you uncomfortable and furious but you let her as long as their false hope keeps you and Feyd safe.

It’s morning when everyone gathers to break their fast together, and you catch snippets of gossip about The Baron. He’s taken over Arrakis, which you suspected, but apparently has been sending out hits into the desert in hopes of eradicating the Fremen. This is met with collective hatred, of course, and you express your interest in joining a team of fighters in response to this.

“I want to fight,” you tell them sternly.

Chani lingers nearby, never too far. “Absolutely not. How do we know that you won’t just sabotage our mission?”

“And why would I do that? I hate them just as much as you do,” you snap back.

“Clearly,” she says, glancing at your abdomen.

Frustration takes root inside you. “Feyd hates them just as much. We have tried to prove ourselves to you for months now. Let us actually make a difference besides gardening and petty perimeter patrols.”

“No.”

“What? We’re only needed when it involves your own self-interest?” You bite back. “Just when I can make you come?”

Her upper lip peels back in a snarl. “Bitch.”

“What’s going on?”

The small crowd that’s gathered all turns to watch Feyd saunter into the room. He’s looking much healthier now and returning to his former strength, which might make or break your case in this instance.

You purse your lips. “Nothing.”

“The na-Baroness wants to join us in a responsive ambush against the Harkonnen strikes,” Chani says over you. She crosses her arms over her chest and you catch a triumphant look on her face that irks you to no idea.

Feyd looks to you, then back to Chani. “Do you deny her this?”

“Of course I deny her this,” Chani says, “I don’t care what everyone else thinks. I don’t trust you.”

“Then you are stupid,” Feyd remarks.

There’s a gasp of surprise from several of those around you and you grit your teeth. Feyd, I hope you know what you’re doing, you think.

Chani’s face twists in anger. “Why would I trust you to join us in an ambush when you so spectacularly failed your last one?”

Feyd opens his mouth to speak but you beat him to it, cutting your gaze to Chani. “Fine. Forget it.”

“Y/N —” Feyd starts to say.

“Besides,” Chani sniffs, “how would I forgive myself if anything happened to the baby?”

Your blood runs cold.

Feyd’s entire body stiffens at this and you force yourself to turn away from him. It feels as if your heart might burst from your chest, your stomach twisting with guilt and regret. When he finally does speak, Feyd’s voice is soft, imploring:

“What baby?”

Part Seventeen

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