#i don't like going to bed. because i don't have a daydream. i like sleeping though. its great | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

secretsandwriting · 1 year ago

Note

heyyyy ryyyyy <333

since ur requests are open i thought id go ahead and ask if you're mayhaps open to anything for batmom? i don't have a completely solid idea but maybe smn like batmom has been getting threats or maybe hate or smn from somebody and everyone's reactions and how they get hella protective?

obv no pressure and you definitely do not have to write this

hope you have a great day bb

Heyyyyy, so this grew hands and wrote itself, I hope you enjoy it. It did end up with a lot of backstory.

Earned Position

5.3k words

You knew this would happen. Once your relationship with Bruce got out there would be an influx of love and hate. You also knew that everyone else knew that as well. It was common knowledge than anyone around a celebrity of sorts would experience that.

Of course you did the normal things, turned off most notifications and only looked through areas online you knew would mostly be safe. You blocked tags and and only followed people you knew or ones who didn’t post about drama.

When you did stumble onto hate, you moved on. If someone kept sending you nasty messages you blocked them, when they made other accounts to keep sending the same things, you changed your settings so only those you followed could message you.

It wasn’t something you wanted to deal with but it was something you could handle. Something you started mentally preparing yourself for when Bruce’s attention on you lasted more than 4 dates, even more so when you caught yourself daydreaming about him.

You were not going to let random bitter people on the internet destroy your happiness like they did their own. Your family however, wanted to destroy what was left of your haters' happiness. Something you were trying to curb, but trying to tell a family of vigilantes who considered you the best mom in existence not to destroy your haters was like talking to a brick wall. Over the years, you had gotten used to it. It barely even registered anymore. But there had been a recent influx of the hate and while it didn’t bother you, it bothered the rest of your family. None of them could stand people talking bad about their mom.

While you hadn’t been there while the older ones were young, the second you had introduced yourself to them, you had taken a very important role in their lives. None of them realizing it at first. All of them had gotten used to the random women Bruce brought home that it took a little while for them to realize how important you were.

Dick wasn’t sure at first. Thinking you were just another girlfriend that wouldn’t last long. So he didn’t really interact with you much. Ignoring your existence when it wasn’t too rude, or at least obviously rude. Until one night when he was staying at the manor and had a nightmare about his parents death.

Bruce had an open bed policy. As long as there was still room for him, his bed was open. A policy he had started when Dick had gotten old enough he was worried he wouldn’t be allowed to go when he had a nightmare. Bruce had always reminded all his kids, that nightmares don’t go away just because you’re older and that needing comfort wasn’t something they would outgrow.

The thing was, you were there. Girlfriends didn’t mind when children did it but they never liked it when his adult kids did it. The shaking in his hands and the way he saw them fall in the darkness of every blink told him the only way he was getting any sleep was with someone.

Hopefully he could just slip into Bruce’s side and leave before you woke up. That was the plan until he found Damian on Bruce’s side and you had been pulled closer to Bruce taking up what was left. You moved a little and Dick took that as his sign to deal with it himself until he heard you whisper his name. He hummed so you knew it was him and not some random stranger standing over Bruce’s side of the bed.

“Nightmare?”

“Yeah.”

“Come on.” You lifted the blanket next to you, “Bruce told me you guys come here when you have nightmares. There's plenty of room over here for you.” Dick hesitated for a second before giving in. He needed sleep anyway. You weren’t when you said there was plenty of room, Dick had most of your half of the bed. Once he had settled on his side, facing away from you, he felt you pull the blanket over his shoulders.

“Night Dick, sleep well.” For some reason, that was what did it. Once the tears started they didn’t stop. Silent sobs made him shudder and he felt one of your hands gently rubbing his back. “Oh Dick.” There was no pity in your tone and he found himself rolling over and curling into you. Your chin resting on his head while you rubbed his back.

The next day, he followed you around like a puppy. Your side of the bed became his favorite when he had nightmares and it wasn’t long before he turned to you for general comfort over anything.

Jason met you at his grave. Neither of you exchanged words, but he caught something in your gaze he didn’t quite understand. He also wasn’t sure why you were at his grave either, he didn’t know you when he was younger.

When he saw the Gotham News post about Bruce and Your 2nd anniversary, it brought more questions than answers. Why were you at his grave alone? Let alone longer than a few seconds. It was an odd way to gain more of Bruce’s affections.

Every Tuesday you would be there, leaving flowers and talking softly to the stone. Every time you left, you would smile and nod, the look in your eyes he couldn’t figure out was still there. Every time he would strain to heat what you were saying and only be able yo a few words here and there.

6 months into it, the routine changed. You brought a blanket and Basket with your usual flowers. You did what you normally did with the flowers but instead of talking to the stone you waved him over. When he didn’t move, you stopped what you were doing and looked at him.

“Jason Todd, I have been keeping your secret for 6 months. Helping me spread this blanket and having lunch won’t change it.” He stared at you while you waited expectantly. Eventually when he could get himself to move, he came over and helped. He sat down where you motioned for him too, all while trying to figure out how you knew.

“Bruce mentioned this used to be your favorite when you were younger so I asked Alfred to teach me how to make it. I hope it's up to your standards.” He looked at the plate of food you handed him. It was almost overflowing with food, all of which reminded him of the good times back at the manor before he died. “Alfred also sent your favorite cookies when he heard I would be eating at your grave.” The bag of cookies was placed next to the basket, within easy reach.

“Why?” Was all Jason managed to choke out around the lump in his throat.

“I decided early on in life, no matter who I was with, I would love their family as my own. My grandfather hated my grandmothers side and it caused a lot of pain in all the generations. I decided I would never do that to another family.” Jason found himself back in control enough to start eating.

“So when I started dating Bruce and he told me about you, I decided to treat you like you were my own. Even though I had never met you and you were dead. Most of what that meant was keeping your grave clean and always making sure there were fresh flowers. While I did that, I would tell you everything that was going on.”

“How did you know it was me?”

“Your eyes, they may be a different color but they looked too similar. So I did a little digging and found pictures of your biological pictures to place the face shape it matched. I think however you look more like Bruce then either of them.”

“Are you going to tell them?”

“As much as I would love to. It’s your choice. You’ve been keeping this to yourself for a reason. If I can help you get to a place to tell them, I would love to. But I won’t say a word until you're ready. However, I would like to keep having lunch with you.”

A year later, Jason reintroduced himself to the rest of the family a lot calmer than originally planned and was glued to your side anytime he felt overwhelmed that night. Every Tuesday after that, lunch was scheduled.

Tim was nervous when it came to you. He was still living in the manor so he saw you more than the older two. You always seemed nice and respected his privacy but Bruce was always with you so you obviously would.

It was when he wasn’t around that worried Tim. Bruce attracted golddiggers and they were always mean when Bruce wasn’t there. When you were given a copy of the key, Time braced himself.

Of course he knew that if he told Bruce anything that happened like that, Bruce would break it off. He had always told them that they came first. But he also knew that Bruce liked you a lot. All the other ones Bruce liked a lot that turned out to be horrible, he broked it off. Tim had seen how it had made him upset and he really hated doing that to him. Maybe he could deal with it for once.

So when Bruce left for a business trip, Tim was Expecting the worst. What he didn’t expect was for you to knock on his door and ask if you could join him. When he agreed and stepped back so you could come in. He expected you to go to his bed or his desk chair not, the oversized bean bag on the floor.

“I have a question for you but you can’t tell Bruce yet.” Here it comes. “What would a funny way to tell him I know he’s Batman?” Tim wasn’t expecting that one. “I was thinking a lot of batpuns but his paranoia is too bad for that.”

“How did you figure it out?” You walked him through your process and didn’t say anything as he wrote parts of it down. Once you finished explaining the process for Bruce, you explained any way it was modified in figuring out their identities.

“Who do you think I am?”

“Red Robin.” Tim found himself getting excited.

“You know those notes you leave him in his office?” You nodded. “You should leave those in the Batcave.” You considered it but your thinking was interrupted but Tim shouting.

“No! One night when we’re all in the cave, you could bring some snacks!”

“You just want snacks when he’s lecturing you don’t you?”

“Maybe..”

“Alright, but you have to tell the others so they can tell me what snack they want.”

So Tim slowly and carefully went through all his siblings, letting them know you figured it out, Bruce didn’t know, and what the plan is. Every time he relayed a snack to you he’d watch how carefully you’d write it out to make sure you had it correct or look up recipes if you couldn’t find it in stores.

Two weeks later, Tim was the one who sent the signal in the middle of a lecture everyone was receiving and he got a front row seat to see Bruce’s face when you walked in and handed out snacks before giving him a kiss and telling him to be nice and leaving.

Any other worries were left in the dust when you helped him win the nerf war for the best seat in the home theater. He thoroughly enjoyed his spot next to you while Bruce swore revenge from the other side of the room.

Damian treated you politely but that was it. His mother was still alive and he didn’t want another one, one was more than enough. Not only that, but you were weird.

One time when you were over, you found one of his report cards. Immediately you were praising him. He didn’t understand why, he had basically failed one of his classes with an A-. You should be disappointed like his mother would be, not hanging it up on the fridge and telling people not to touch it. Definitely not taking him out for ice cream and calling him so smart. He definitely shouldn’t be feeling any pride when he walked past it, but he still was.

When he was practicing his violin and Messed up, you were supposed to tell him to stop failing, that he should be better. Not smiling at him and telling him he’s making good progress. You should be telling him that he should have memorized that piece in a day. He shouldn’t be feeling any pride when he finally does memorize it, it took him 4 days to learn it.

When he was struggling to learn a language, you were supposed to tell him to work harder. He could do better, after all, he already knew so many. Instead you just smiled and recommended a break to refresh his mind.

When he snapped at you in Arabic, he expected you to be upset since you didn’t know what he said and it was obviously not something nice. Instead you set the rule that if he was going to use Arabic to speak to you when upset, that he had to teach it to you and if what he said wasn’t something you had learned yet, he had to tell you in english. When he told you what it meant, you didn’t even get upset. He definitely shouldn’t be as excited as he was when you actually started learning.

So many more little things piled up, leaving Damian confused. The differences between how you and his mother treated him was so big he didn’t know how to process it, he liked you and all the little things made him happy in a way he hadn’t really felt. But he still loved his mom, When he had enough of it, he asked you to stop. He still wanted to love his mom. Once again, you did something you weren’t supposed to.

“Oh Damian, I’m not trying to replace your mom nor am I trying to make you feel like you can’t love her or she doesn’t love you. Your mom and I show our love in different ways and its ok for you to love or like both of us. You mother loves you and she will always be allowed in your life if thats what you want.” You weren’t supposed to do that, but Damian was really glad you did.

Barbara wasn’t sure how you would react to her. She wasn’t just Bruce’s kid. She had a loving family she went back to every night. Most people weren’t really a fan of that, one of Bruce’s past girlfriends had some strong and hurtful things to say about it.

When you took her for a day out, she found herself warming up to you but still waiting for the other shoe to drop. One of the new places you had planned to go, didn’t have wheelchair access. Like all the other girlfriends who had done this, she expected you to be annoyed that your plans had to change or you would just leave her outside while you shopped.

You didn’t seem to notice her hesitation, just looking at what was next on your list and starting the trip there. When Barbara stared a little longer at a new movie that was in theaters, tickets and snacks were bought and you listed to all the lore she told you about before it started.

While it had been a nice day, Barbara wasn’t convinced. One day was easy to fake. Sure she had lots of fun, but Barbara was used to fakes when it came to Bruce’s girlfriends. Of course she wasn’t complaining about you being nice, she just wasn’t sure how long it would last.

“Did you hear about that boutique?” She looked up from her food to look at her dad. “That new one that you tried to go to with Bruce’s girlfriend? Well there was a report that it didn’t meet the Americans with Disabilities act and the boutique is in trouble. People are speculating they’ll have to close down.”

Later that night, Barbara looked into it. They were in trouble, pretty big trouble from the looks of it. Towards the end of the article she found the name of the person who reported it, she wasn’t sure who she was expecting. Not you for sure but the Name Y/n L/n took her by surprise and filled her chest with feelings she couldn’t describe.

The boutique ended up closing but a new one opened. Once it was open, you were the first to ask her to go. That weird feeling came back when she wheeled herself up the ramp and through the door you held open for her. Later that night, in the privacy of her room. She decided she liked you.

Steph seemed like she liked you, she acted like she liked you, she didn’t really like you. Sure you were nice, Bruce loved you, the others were warming up to you, but she wasn’t sure how to feel about you. So she stuck with not actually liking you but pretending to.

So when she was around you, it was all smiles and jokes. She wasn’t a big fan of it all but she did it because she knew you were important to Bruce and that was enough of a reason for her. She knew Bruce and the others could see through the act but as long as you couldn’t, that was enough.

When Bruce announced he had to leave for a business trip right before she could hand him the parents visit for one of her AP classes, something the new teacher liked doing. She tucked the paper away. When Tim gave her a questioning look, she shook her head and later swore him to silence.

Every time she heard someone mention their parents were going, she felt a pang of jealousy in her chest. Every time Tim mentioned bringing it up to you, she swore him into silence again. It wouldn’t be the first time no one showed up for her. She was however thankful you wouldn’t be at the manor as much so she didn’t have to pretend to like you.

When the day arrived, Steph was not having a good day. School dragged on slowly. Slower than normal. When school finally ended, she had to sit in the classroom and watch everyone else that was in her class leave and the parents of her classmates show up while no one was there or coming for her.

Someone sat in the seat next to her, she expected another family member of one of her classmates. Definitely not you. She couldn’t return your smile, too unsure of how you found out, the fact you actually showed up, and how she felt about you being there. You leaned a little closer so that the others in the room wouldn’t easily overhear.

“I know I’m not your parent and someone you just pretend to like so if you want me to leave I will. But I figured someone was better then no one. Oh, and Tim wanted me to tell you he didn’t spill. Your teacher called the manor because no one had RSVPed for you and I answered it.”

That night, as Steph showed off all her hard work to you, the charade fell. She actually enjoyed her time with you and the boost of pride as you oohed and ahhed over all her projects and listened to her explain all the little details. That night, Steph realized, she didn’t need to keep pretending. She liked you, until she found out you didn’t like her favorite show but a nerf war solved that.

Cass could tell you were different then the other girlfriends, your body language as you interacted with all of them showed it. However that didn’t mean she knew how to interact with you.

She had learned that she was fairly hard for new people to interact with. She also knew she had trouble interacting with people she wasn’t fighting. So it wasn’t a surprise when it started rocky.

What was a surprise, was when you found out she was still having trouble reading and writing, you stepped in to help. Well, that wasn’t the surprising part, a lot of girlfriends did that. The surprising part was the amount of patience you had when it was only the two of you.

When one method didn’t help, you tried another. Never once did you snap at her or call her a name. Everytime you got frustrated you would stop and look at her, say something along the lines of “If I had as much trouble with this as you do, I wouldn’t want to keep trying. You're doing absolutely amazing! I’ll keep looking for other ideas, but for now, lets take a break and get a treat.”

Cass wasn’t sure why that always made her feel better, but it did. Every treat you brought was something you made just for the tutoring sessions and it always reminded her of what Alfred had told her once. “Something made with love for you will always taste better.”

And when a method that made it a little easier to learn was found, Cass found herself smiling along with your cheers. Bad days where she couldn’t seem to make any progress were always met with the same excitement, cheers, patience, and treats that all the others were.

Cass still wasn’t sure of what to think of you exactly, but she knew she liked you and that you cared about her.

So when Tim saw the new rise in hate, a sibling meeting was called. They all went through each site, blood boiling as they saw what people were saying about their new parent. Plans were made, declarations of war were ready, and anger fueled all of them. Bruce could tell something was going on, but he wasn’t sure what it was and as long as it didn’t get out of had, he wasn’t sure if he had the energy to deal with it.

War was declared in an interview by Steph. The lady was asking questions when the topic switched to Bruce, then you. The reporter was clearly trying to subtly find some dirt on you and Steph was not going to stand for it.

“Oh yeah! Y/n! She’s the best!” She put on her best press face. Trying to hide her anger over the hidden intent. She didn’t have to lie or act when talking about you but the change in the lady’s face going to disappointment when she didn’t get anything she wanted was making her look very punchable.

“She’s always showing up for us and making sure we’re doing ok. If Y/n and Bruce were to break up, I think most of us would go with Y/n.” The way the lady kept trying to get anything really got on her nerves and Steph decided she needed to get out of there before she started using the lady’s face for target practice. You wouldn’t like that.

Cass was the first one to resort to violence. They had asked a thinly veiled question, basically asking if you were a golddigger. So she punched him in the nose and leaned down to flip the camera off. She hated interviews already but that made it so much worse. She hoped you wouldn’t be too upset with her punching the guy though.

Jason, surprisingly enough. Did not get violent… physically. He did however curse one out and threaten him when the reporter implied you were forcing them to say nice things. When the reporter kept pressing Jason broke his mic and told him if he ever heard him talking bad about you again, a broken mic would be the last of his worries. Jason knew you would be disappointed but he had held back, he didn’t shoot the guy like he wanted.

Tim threw his coffee at one reporter because he heard them say you were nothing but a regular person who didn’t deserve any attention. He then took over her segment, threatening the company to air it or he would make sure they went bankrupt. Once he finished his threats, anything he said was praising you name. Telling everyone how amazing you were and how much they all loved you.

Barbara made it a point to bring up everything you did for the community when they tried to throw some shade at you in an interview. She had documents to prove it and hacked their systems to add them into the interview so they couldn’t claim it was fake. She also made sure to run over his foot when she left.

Dick punched a reporter when they tried to ask him what you were really like behind closed doors. He told them the truth, that you were just as good, kind, patient, and loving behind closed doors as you were out in public. He didn’t throw a punch until the reporter disregarded that as asked again because she couldn’t be that good. Dick knew a lecture would be coming once you saw, but he would rather sit through a lecture then let anyone tarnish your name.

Damian spent 10 minutes cursing and threatening a reporter in Arabic when they asked him if you had ever hurt him. When he was done, he told them in english, that if he ever got asked that question again, he would impale them. He knew you were going to make him sit down and translate everything and the general response you would give but he didn’t care, no one speaks bad about either of his mothers.

Bruce figured out what was going on after Steph’s interview. He saw the ones where they assaulted or threatened the reporters and made sure his lawyers were on standby to keep the kids out of trouble. After all, he had seen more than they had.

He had watched as you tried to connect with Dick early on, how you worked hard to try and get somewhere. He had woken up before you when Dick had come in that night and heard how you handled it. He had woken up the next morning to find you holding Dick close, like you were trying to protect him from the nightmares. He had seen how you never turned Dick down when he wanted comfort, no matter how serious or silly the matter, and he had heard your excitement when you told him Dick liked you.

Bruce had seen the way you never missed a visit to Jason’s grave, on a visit of his own, he saw how much care you showed the stone marking it as his lost son. While he hadn’t been sure why it was alway the same time on Tuesday, he didn;t mention it. He felt the way you would sob in his arms after each visit, a year after the tradition started, you always said you had promised not to tell and he watched as you kept that promise even if it tore you to pieces. Once the shock and tears wore off for a little bit, he could see the trust that Jason had in you.

He heard the way you questioned if you should have a key to the manor, you didn’t want to make Tim uncomfortable in his own home, or how you questioned if you should visit while he was gone. Not wanting to stress Tim out when there was no reason too. He saw the way you and Tim grinned at each other when you brought snacks down for all the kids he was currently lecturing. He head the excitement in your voice as you told him about the tour Tim had given you of the Batcave and the shared laughter as you and Tim worked together to win the nerf war.

Bruce saw how you worked to give Damian the affection he didn’t think he needed. He felt you crying in his arms upset over the fact Damian thought you would be angry because he made a mistake or struggled in a class. He heard you practicing your Arabic as you got ready for bed and he watched as you stress paced over whether or not you said the right thing to him about his mother.

He saw how angry you had been when you came back from your day out with Barbara. He had heard your call with your lawyer as you tried to figure out what to do. He saw you going through the laws and making a list to make sure your lawyer didn’t miss any. He heard about the movie you didn’t particularly care about and the lore you remembered in case of another because you wanted Barbara to have someone she could tell all of her favorite things too.

Bruce saw the pictures you had taken from the school night. He heard all the details from you as you praised Steph’s work. He saw the way Steph stopped acting around you and the silly arguments the two of you would get into for fun. He heard the way you would listen to her as she verbally worked out her problems. He saw the way Steph looked for you in a crowd, the way she knew you were there but not where you stood exactly, the thought of you not being there never crossed her.

He saw the way you stayed up late, researching different ways to teach reading and writing. He heard the patience and kindness and you worked with Cass. He saw the way you always made a treat just for Cass to have after each lesson because you wanted to reward her hard work. He heard the way you cried for Cass when she had a bad day and got frustrated with herself because you knew she was smart and you wanted her to see it too. He heard your celebrations when Cass made any progress, no matter the size.

Bruce heard, saw, and felt the way you worked hard to have a relationship with his kids. How you had mourned for their losses, celebrated their wins, and felt their pain. He saw the way his kids blossomed under your care, growing to be better and more confident in themselves. The way you cared for them as if they were your own flesh and blood. So when he was asked about his kids behavior, he said as much.

“Y/n has worked hard to be accepted by them. She’s given so much of her time, effort, patience, and love and never wanted anything in return. She always shows up for them, no matter what the occasion is, big or small, it doesn’t matter. If they want her there, she’ll be there. Everytime they need or want her, she’s there. She never judges them and treats them as if they were her own blood. Of course their upset and lashing out, people are insulting the woman who has cared for them more then most of their biological mothers.”

Later, a clip of you scolding Bruce and all the kids went viral. While you were scolding them over their behavior and making the kids who had reacted with violence or threats write apology letters because asking mean questions does not make it right to respond badly especially when its someone just trying to start drama. Everyone one noticed that there was no actual bite to your tone and no anger when they all refused to stop acting like that. In fact, there was a small soft smile on your face as you shook your head at your family.

#dc #jason todd #dick grayson #tim drake #fem reader #batman x reader #bruce wayne x reader #Damian wayne #cassandra cain #stephanie brown #barbara gordon #batfamily x reader #batmom reader #batmom #request #cipheress-to-k-pop

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robinminustherichard · 1 month ago

Text

Just a little bucktommy/Buck does what's best for him/Tommy is the #1 Evan Buckley defender drabble for you on this Wednesday

[HOWIE HAN]: 1 New Message

Hey Tommy, sorry to bother you with this but any chance you've heard from Buck?

[HOWIE HAN]: 1 New Message

He told us he was still transferring and also taking a week off and now no one has heard from him in days.

Tommy looks at the text messages, coming in quick succession, and snorts harshly.

[TOMMY KINARD]

That sounds like a lot. Did you check his house?

Tommy knows they didn't check his house, because they have absolutely no clue what had been going on in Evan's life for at least a few weeks, probably closer to a month.

[HOWIE HAN]: 1 New Message

Uh. Well.

[HOWIE HAN]: 1 New Message

We kind of don't know where he moved to.

Tommy rolls his eyes, mutters "Jesus Christ, Chimney," under his breath.

[TOMMY KINARD]

You don't know where your own brother-in-law lives? Dude.

[HOWIE HAN]: 1 New Message

Come on man I just had a baby

[TOMMY KINARD]

I thought your wife had the baby

[HOWIE HAN]: 1 New Message

You're a comedian.

[TOMMY KINARD]

I'd say I'm here all week, but I'm actually on vacation.

[HOWIE HAN]: 1 New Message

Yeah, yeah, I'll take the hint and stop bothering you. Even though you have no sympathy for the fact that my wife is going to be very disappointed with me when she finds out I lost her brother and she's going to look at me in the way that makes me feel very sad and also guilty.

[TOMMY KINARD]

Well, if I see him I'll let you know. Good luck with all of that I guess.

Tommy chuckles again, the face pushed into his stomach bouncing a bit with it. Evan rolls, sleep-bright eyes blinking up at Tommy in confusion.

"Whatsit?" Evan mumbles, a hand coming up to wipe away at what is definitely drool in the corner of his mouth.

Evan had been napping with his head on Tommy's lap, spread out across the couch in the cabin they're borrowing from a friend of Tommy's for a weekend getaway. They'd spent the last three hours hiking (and maybe some of it making out against a tree) and Evan was still in a bit of a sleep deficit from trying to quickly get all of his stuff moved out of Eddie's house two days ago.

"Nothing, sweetheart," Tommy tells him warmly, his torso curling down towards Evan as he runs a hand through slightly sweaty but impossibly soft curls. "Just texting Chimney."

"Mmmok," Evan says, rolling back into Tommy's stomach and kicking a knee out to stretch farther down the couch. It accentuates his long, long legs which are currently wrapped in hiking shorts that are honestly just sinfully short and leggings; and Tommy is also maybe drooling a little. He's going to let Evan sleep for a little longer, knowing if he lets it go on too long Evan's sleep schedule will be ruined.

But also beacuase Tommy is more than happy to pick up where they left off against the tree; this time in the plush bed waiting for them, with enough time and sunlight leftover to then grill the steaks they had bought for dinner.

Tommy shakes himself out of the daydream that's going to end up disturbing the man impersonating sleeping beauty right over something that will give away exactly what's going through his head and looks at the text conversation again. He sighs. He doesn't think that Howie and the rest of the 118 deserve much right now, but he does sympathize with a woman who just had a baby and who has access to another woman who won't hesitate to launch a manhunt for his boyfriend.

He sighs and pulls up Maddie's phone number, but then thinks of something much funnier.

[TOMMY KINARD]

Image

[TOMMY KINARD]

Oh shit man you'll never guess what I found

[HOWIE HAN]:

Tommy what the FUCK

#bucktommy #bucktommy fic #rob writes

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erwinsvow · 2 months ago

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thinking about night shift reader getting jealous when a pretty temp nurse or patient won’t stop flirting with jack

YESYESYES!!🤭 i need that imagine him trying to convince her/ console her and she’s actually so jealous and mad w him

the squeal heard around the world. i loved writing this. i am soo sorry i am terrible at writing about the girl we are supposed to be jealous of, even though this was my own damn idea. i hope you like ♡ this is about 3.6k. oops

jack abbot is great at being your boyfriend, and he's even better at being a doctor.

he's the kind of boyfriend you spent all of your youth dreaming about, as though he had read the scribbles in your journals growing up, like he'd been right next to your friends when you'd tell them about what you want in a relationship.

sweet, devoted, caring. he takes care of you in ways that you didn't realize you needed to be cared for—does it so effortlessly that you're left wondering how it comes so easily to him. you know he's been in more relationships than you—he was married, and that is something you don't take lightly. he had already found the person he was going to spend forever with, and because of some cruel twist of fate, he ended up alone again.

you can't imagine that. you've been on the night-shift maybe six months, which means you've been official with jack for coming on four months now, and you can't even imagine what a single day without him would be like.

(you've experienced it in the broadest sense of the word—he once got called in at three in the afternoon on a day you both had gotten off. the two of you had only woken up an hour or two ago, and had spent the following time indulging in an afternoon delight, and when his phone went off, you were about to drift off to sleep again against his chest, to the sound of his heart. you still hold a grudge against shen for that day, and you know what it's like to be without him when you're so spoiled by what it's like to be with him—you were miserable until he came back home at ten that night.)

jack abbot is a great boyfriend. he surprises you with your favorite flowers, makes you breakfast because he worries about you not eating enough, and even though he's an old man, he replies to your texts as soon as he gets them, as soon as he can. (but he doesn't really need to, since you're always together anyways.)

but sometimes, your boyfriend is really fucking oblivious.

there's a travel nurse taking over for one of your favorite night-shift nurses' maternity leave. you were sad about it already, being without her, though it's hard to stay upset when she sends you photos of her cute baby napping and videos of him realizing he has fingers.

and you are nothing if not sweet, if not welcoming. you had been the newbie not that long ago, and even though you've settled into a great routine (that only partially includes jack, because despite the fact that the scheduler loves you, you don't get every shift with your boyfriend. that would just be wrong. and distracting, you think), you still remember how hard it was in the beginning.

so you beam at her with your smile, ask her about her hobbies and give her recommendations for the best coffee nearby. you do all the things you'd do if it was anyone else, trying to make sure she feels welcome. (jack told you once that you have a complex about making sure people like you. you told him to shut up.)

the first few shifts with her were fine. you've been on with shen and ellis for a week—that's just the way the schedule was. you and jack both have a golden weekend coming up soon, and there was another couple of days he took off to go visit his sister upstate, so you knew it would be a mildly sad few weeks without him there every night with you. it would be worth it for the forty-eight hours you had been daydreaming about, all of them in jack's apartment, not a single one outside of his bed.

but she'd been on with you every night you'd been there, and nurses only work three times a week—that's what's running through your head when jack comes in for his first shift this week with you. he'd come from his apartment, calling you to tell you that he'd made it back home safely and that he was going to sleep before heading in. you had ended the call securing a promise to get breakfast at the diner after tonight's shift, your usual routine.

but you feel sick to your stomach at eight-thirty, staring at the new nurse and your boyfriend, standing in front of a patient's bed.

jack looks good—he always looks good. his hair isn't as messy yet, his scrubs are still clean. he shifts his weight a little because he's had a long drive back from his sister's, and he didn't get to sleep that much, another reason why you are so excited for this empty weekend. were so excited.

you didn't even think you were the jealous type. how could you have known—with no one ever being so close to you that you had any reason to be jealous? you try to rack your head through a couple of first-dates and your sweet but boring short-term college boyfriend. no, you conclude, you've never been the jealous type.

except now, you suppose, watching the pretty nurse lean in a little too close to jack, showing him something on the tablet in her hands. she stares up at your boyfriend, and he stares at the tablet, and then the patient, and you stare at them. and then you see it—he looks at her and stays something, and she laughs. loudly, flirtatiously. you know that laugh, you see it all around you in a hospital full of flirts. and before either of them can catch you staring, you turn around and find a patient to take care of.

you tell yourself for the next thirty minutes that being jealous and getting angry is awfully immature of you, while stitching up a man with terrible knife skills who had secured his visit tonight during a failed attempt at making hibachi for dinner. you don't even hear him when he asks you when he should return to get the stitches out, and the nurse helping you looks at you in confusion. you never zone out while talking to patients, never leave them hanging. she fills in for you, telling him two weeks while you meander back to central.

and you feel a white hot ball of anger burning in your chest again. she's talking to him again. god—don't they both have jobs to do? she's doing the thing again, leaning in towards your boyfriend, looking at him with an expression that is entirely too familiar to you. it's the one that's constantly on your face—the one that the other night shift crew are probably sick of seeing by now. it's something like adoration and reverence and paying attention to every word he says so you don't miss anything. but hers isn't like yours, there's something else there too.

jack is talking to the patient now, taking a step closer to the bed and away from the nurse, and your thudding heart calms down for half a second before the nurse follows right behind him. and she touches his arm. not a tap, not a poke to get his attention. she wraps her fingers around his bicep, holds on for a little too long, and your boyfriend turns to look at her, and that's when you realize you need a moment.

you shut your eyes. it's times like this that you realize how green you really are when it comes to the whole 'dating a really handsome, really smart guy' thing. but jack has never given you a reason to be worried, has never said or done anything that even made you think he would entertain something like this. you know he wouldn't, he's too good for that, too nice of a boyfriend for that.

but it still stings. and so you turn away immediately, heading back to the desk and leaning against it. you report the two cases you dealt with to ellis, who asks you questions that take you too long to answer. you try to avoid staring at either your boyfriend or the nurse for too long, a storm cloud brewing inside of you when you see her trailing right behind him again.

you haven't even talked to him tonight yet, you think bitterly. miserably. and that nurse has been with him for two hours.

and unfortunately, you're also pretty green at hiding the fact that you're upset too. not to your patients—though you do let shen and ellis run the incoming and settle for debriding and wrapping up a burn instead, sitting behind a shut curtain so jack couldn't find you, if he was looking.

(of course he was looking. you're just caught up in your own head.)

and after that, it's almost ten. jack has a cup of coffee waiting for you, if he can find you. he tells the nurse who's been following him around all night if she can track you down for him, and then the patient with the chest pain he's been monitoring wants to speak with him, so he walks away to do that, stretching his neck to see if you're at one of the beds nearby. you have a pair of pink sneakers you wear, though every single person in your life had told you to buy black ones, him included. you don't listen, and times like this he's thankful, searching for the bright shoes under a few beds before giving up. maybe you had just walked away, maybe he had just missed you.

you're back at central, sending in an order for antibiotic gel and finishing a note. you're not a mean person, it doesn't come very naturally to you, but you do have to try really hard to resist the urge to roll your eyes when you see the nurse walking towards you.

you've been nice to her every day so far. it would be obvious if you started being mean—whatever your version of mean is—now. but it doesn't seem like she would notice, with that same love-sick expression as she sits in the empty chair next to you.

you're grumpy and tired and frankly too busy to deal with this, but when she starts talking, you listen anyways. (screw jack and screw your goddamn complex. you need to learn how to be mean.)

"how is this the first time i'm meeting him?" she asks, and you bite your cheek so hard you think it might be bleeding. you keep typing your note, looking in her direction and forcing a smile—stupid. complex. "he's so handsome."

"what's that now?" you grit, the screen in front of you not making much sense anymore. you backspace and delete the last two sentences that are filled with gibberish and abbreviations that don't exist.

"dr. abbot," she says to you and you think even your fingers are trembling. you are so, so incredibly bad at this. and you don't even realize why—so much anger and sadness pooling inside of you. normally you'd be caffeinated enough for a clear mind on this side of ten o'clock, but you've been avoiding your boyfriend, and therefore avoiding the cup he makes for you every shift.

the nurse rambles on, your heart beating faster with each word she says. dr. abbot is cute and nice and charming and, like, so funny.

i know, you want to yell. i know he's funny! you just met him three hours ago.

but you stay silent, stay nice, no matter how much it's eating at you. you are being extremely immature but everytime you think of how close they were standing and the fact that some other girl touched your boyfriend's arm, you want to black out.

she keeps rambling and you stay silent, trying for the most part to ignore her, until you hear it at the end of one of her sentences.

"he wears a wedding ring, though, i noticed it earlier when we were with that other patient. but i mean, he's a doctor right? they never care about-"

the thoughts you're thinking would get you put into the psych ward, you think.

"-oh, he was looking for you. you need to report to him, right? we were over by bed ten, i think, the guy with chest pain. we were-"

we, we, we. it's all she says.

"he was looking for me?" you repeat, tired of listening and frankly, a bit tired of the weight of your own emotions.

yes, you might be stupid for getting jealous about something like this, but if that's the case, then you accept your own stupidity. you would never touch some nurse's arm like that, not unless you were trying to give someone a hug after a bad loss. and you would never lean in close like that to anyone, no one besides jack. well, jack and that older radiologist who speaks very softly, so you always need to get real close so she doesn't have to keep repeating herself.

you guess you thought jack would feel the same about not doing those things for you. maybe he doesn't care, maybe it's nothing to him. but it's not to you, not right now, not while listening to a temp nurse gush about him all night.

"oh, there he is now. do i look okay? that other incoming was coughing up blood and we-"

you look up, meeting your boyfriend's pretty hazel eyes while he leans on the other side of the counter from you.

"do you need anything, dr. abbot?" she pipes up from next to you, and this time you do roll your eyes. fuck—you're really bad at this. jack sees it happen, shaking his head at her and turning his attention to you.

a few hours ago, this would have made you perfectly happy. but it keeps replaying in your head—the arm grab. maybe it's because you have your own complex about jack's arms, but it's not okay. and you won't pretend like it is either.

jack sets down your yellow mug by your hand. it's filled with a light colored coffee.

"here's your cream and sugar with a side of coffee." you stare up at him blankly, forcing a small smile.

"thank you," and then you turn your attention back to the screen. jack looks at you, confused with furrowed eyebrows. you can feel the nurse's eyes going between your yellow mug and jack. "i discharged hibachi guy with fifteen stitches. and the forearm burn wants to pick up the gel from his local pharmacy, i guess he knows the tech there or something-"

"you okay, kid?"

you release a breath you've been holding all night. when you turn to your side, you see the nurse is still staring, but not at you, just at jack. you turn your attention back to him.

"yeah."

you watch it happen in front of you. he turns to the nurse, and she beams, just like how you always do.

"would you mind giving us a minute?" he asks her, and you can see her deflate a little. you get a smug feeling, which you immediately curse yourself for. that's mean of you, and you don't like being mean—though you are very pleased he said that. she nods and gets up slowly, making sure to ask him again if he needs anything before she goes. and she walks somewhere away, though you're sure she can still see him.

"hey," he starts, and you do have to look up now. you can't ignore jack if you tried. "what's wrong?"

"nothing," you lie through your teeth, ignoring how weepy you feel inside.

you don't know how to handle being jealous, and you want to say something mean and biting but you can't really think of it. so you settle for the next best thing, staying silent.

"c'mon, kid. don't lie to me. i haven't seen you all night."

"i was on chairs," you say, eyes flicking between jack's arm resting against the counter and the cup of coffee he brought you. and then you look at the recently emptied seat next to you. "and you were clearly busy."

jack hasn't been dating you for that long, but he still knows you better than you know yourself sometimes. knows that you're too nice, knows about the new nurse that replaced your pregnant friend—distinctly remembers you telling him about it on the phone last week. he knows that he's never seen you like this, that you haven't given him that smile that makes his knees weak and his heart thud all night. that he was waiting for it after a few days without you.

you chew your cheek again, taking a sip of the coffee. it's perfect, just like every other night.

(you had once confessed to jack at three am during the first month you two were officially dating that your coffee always tastes better when he makes it. it's what he thinks about when he makes it for you—here, at your place, at his place, at the diner.)

"thank you for the coffee," you say quietly, briefly flickering your sad eyes to him. jack leans in, holding your hand that just set down your mug.

"hey," he starts quietly, and you try to wrestle your hand away, though he doesn't budge. "hey. what's going on? did i-did i do something?"

you stay silent, though he notices your eyes getting watery. it's so stupid, crying over this like you've just lost a patient or something. but you can't help it. jack abbot makes you feel every emotion like it's your first time feeling it all over again. your eyes look at the chair next to you again.

"i saw her touching you," you admit quietly. saying the words out loud lights a fury inside of you, getting angry all over again at the very idea that he didn't realize what was happening.

"oh, kid, i-"

"d-don't. you asked, i'm just telling you." it's hard for him to listen when he notices your chin trembling a little, thinking about how this might be the first time he's messed up in your short relationship.

he comes over to the other side of the desk, taking the seat next to you and holding onto your hand again.

"please tell me this is not about that-that nurse," jack starts, and you want to walk away from him so badly. "sweetheart. i have absolutely no interest in her, even if she does. i told her to find you for me, so i could get your coffee-"

"but she touched your arm," you say, not realizing just how sad that had made you. but jack realizes, knows that you must have seen it from somewhere where he couldn't see you. knows you didn't see him brushing her off, standing by the patient, figuring out how to get rid of his new shadow.

"hey, i'm sorry, okay? i would have made sure she understood that i'm very happily taken if i had known-"

"but you should have known," you say, though the words are covered with a tiny sob. "i-i'm not crying because i'm sad, i'm angry, i just don't know how to stop crying when i-"

"hey, it's okay. c'mon, let's go on a walk."

"no, i need to finish my notes-"

"sweetheart, come on." jack takes both your hands in his, turning you towards him. he stares right into your eyes and you feel slightly better—slightly. "i need to apologize to you and then i'm going to kiss you. and i know how you feel about me doing that sort of thing in front of everyone, so-"

"i don't know what you're talking about," you snip back. "i don't have any feelings about doing any sort of thing in front of any sort of people-"

and jack wants to laugh, not sure if you entirely understand how cute you are like this. he'll tell you all about it tomorrow morning, when he's got you in his bed, after he apologizes every single way he knows how, after he proves to you how little temp nurses mean to him when he's finally got you.

he leans in close, knowing he's got eyes on the two of you.

"is that so?" you have a habit of shutting your eyes when you know a kiss is coming, and your body does it automatically, despite what your brain is thinking. "so you're not gonna mind if i-"

and he bridges the gap, kissing you at central until he has to pull away to let you breathe. your eyes blink open, staring at hazel until you hear it from behind you—the charge nurse, clearing her throat, suppressing a laugh.

"doctors? if you're about done, we have an incoming mvc-"

"coming, bridget. thanks." jack speaks for both of you, and a little dazed, you stand up with him, still staring.

"i'm still upset."

"i know."

"she still touched you-"

"and i think she's gotten the message by now, but if she hasn't, i will make sure she understands."

"i haven't worked with you since last week." the last part you say sadly, realizing how long it's been since you've seen your boyfriend.

"i'll make up for it in the morning. promise." you take one last sip of coffee, knowing it'll be cold by the time you come back to it, following jack to the trauma bay. you walk right by the temp nurse, who you catch watching as you tie jack's gown and he ties yours, and though you really shouldn't, you beam your friendliest smile at her as she waits with you and the other nurse outside.

"you look great, by the way. and he is cute, isn't he?"

#this is so incredibly silly and yes i did spend two hours writing it #and i'd do it again!#jack abbot #jack abbot x reader #night shift reader

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darknight3904 · 8 months ago

Text

𝘑𝘶𝘯𝘰

𝘓𝘰𝘨𝘢𝘯 𝘏𝘰𝘸𝘭𝘦𝘵𝘵 𝘹 𝘍𝘦𝘮!𝘙𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳

𝘚𝘶𝘮𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘺: 𝘖𝘷𝘶𝘭𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘸𝘦𝘦𝘬 𝘪𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘯𝘰𝘺𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘦𝘯𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩 𝘢𝘴 𝘪𝘵 𝘪𝘴, 𝘣𝘶𝘵, 𝘴𝘱𝘦𝘯𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘮𝘰𝘴𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘪𝘵 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘓𝘰𝘨𝘢𝘯 𝘩𝘢𝘴 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘥 𝘳𝘶𝘯𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘥…

𝘛𝘢𝘬𝘦𝘴 𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘤𝘦 𝘢𝘧𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘋𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘱𝘰𝘰𝘭 & 𝘞𝘰𝘭𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘦 (2024).

𝘛𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘪𝘴 𝘢 𝘥𝘪𝘳𝘦𝘤𝘵 𝘴𝘱𝘪𝘯𝘰𝘧𝘧 𝘵𝘰 𝘮𝘺 𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘳𝘺 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘖𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘓𝘪𝘧𝘦 𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘥𝘰𝘯'𝘵 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘵𝘰, 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘐 𝘥𝘰 𝘳𝘦𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘥 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘪𝘵 𝘧𝘪𝘳𝘴𝘵.

𝘞𝘢𝘳𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴: 𝘭𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘶𝘢𝘨𝘦 𝘪𝘯 𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘦 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘰𝘷𝘪𝘦. 𝘌𝘹𝘱𝘭𝘪𝘤𝘪𝘵 𝘚𝘮𝘶𝘵 18+

𝘞𝘰𝘳𝘥 𝘊𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘵: 1.9𝘬

𝘉𝘢𝘴𝘦𝘥 𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘰𝘯𝘨 𝘣𝘺 𝘚𝘢𝘣𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘢 𝘊𝘢𝘳𝘱𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘳.

𝘗𝘳𝘦𝘷𝘪𝘰𝘶𝘴 𝘗𝘢𝘳𝘵 / 𝘚𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘴 𝘔𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘵 / 𝘔𝘺 𝘔𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘵

It was an understatement to say Logan Howlett was good-looking. Every day waking up next to him was like an episode of America's, or well, Canada's next top model.

If there was a god up there, you wanted to thank them for whatever was in Logan's genetics, Even now, with messy hair and half awake, he was giving you butterflies.

"Quit starin', bub." Logan huffs as he brushes by you to get to the coffee maker.

You swore he was some alien from another planet. Seriously, how was he this hot?

Even at work, you found yourself daydreaming about him.

"Y'know, you're not paid to slack off." Matt huffed as he rearranged a shelf that some kid had messed up.

Your coworker's words had you groaning in annoyance. How could he be so inconsiderate? Interrupting your thoughts like that?

"The shop is literally empty!" You huff looking around at the little bookstore.

"Well, if I don't have a hot boyfriend to dream about, I don't see why you should get the privilege to." Matt grinned

"Whatever." You roll your eyes, "Not my fault he's the whole package."

Nearly a week had passed since you had gotten to have real alone time with Logan. Between work, running Laura around, and Wade's impromptu visits to your shared apartment, you and Logan hadn't seen much of each other.

Normally, you'd be able to accept this, after all life was busy. But, today it was like someone had lit a fire under you and the only way to put it out was with Logan in between your thighs.

Perhaps it was just because it was ovulation week, but all you could think about was getting home and pulling Logan into bed with you. God, you missed him so much...you were a ball of hormones and want as your mind wandered, imagining little versions of you and Logan running around the apartment, terrorizing Laura and Wade when he visited.

Friday night was often filled with stress, usually, you were sitting on uncomfortable metal bleachers, watching Laura's soccer games. But, this week was different, the game had been rained out and Laura had convinced you and Logan that she could sleep over at a friend's house.

The soft clink of keys had you turning towards the front door. Finally, Logan was home.

"I'm back." He announced as your cat, Jingle jumped from your lap to greet the man.

"Missed you." You smile as he plops down on the couch next to you, pressing his lips to your forehead briefly

"Wade kept me out longer than I thought he would." Logan says, "His fucking mouth is going to get him killed one day."

"If he could die." You snort

Logan lets out an amused scoff as he pulls you into his lap, eagerly pressing a kiss to your neck. His hands are a welcome weight as they settle on your hips, squeezing at the soft flesh there.

"Laura at her friends?" He asks with a coy smile

"Mmhm. Dropped her off myself." You say, wiggling your hips a bit in anticipation.

" Gonna take a shower," He says, "Meet me in the bedroom?"

You giggle and smile at the mischievous look on his face.

"Make it quick." You press a kiss on his cheek.

The scent of Logan's shampoo wafts down the hallway as you shimmy into something you've been keeping a secret for a few weeks. A lacy blue babydoll lingerie dress sits on your body as you quickly step into the matching thong it came with. You stand in front of the full-length mirror Logan hung on the back of the door to your shared bedroom.

You mess around with your hair, trying to find the perfect look, and then swipe on a strawberry-flavored gloss, one of Logan's favorites. You can't help but feel a bit giddy as you take in your appearance. Messy hair, shiny lips, and the perfect little number on your frame, you're sure to drive Logan even crazier than he already was for you.

The squeaking of the bathroom door's hinge's have you whirling around, unsure if you should lay on the bed, or perhaps sit on the edge.

You don't get a chance to make up your mind as Logan pushes the bedroom door open. A deep green towel is wrapped around his waist as your eyes greedily roam his perfect torso.

Logan sucks in a breath as he crosses the room to be closer to you. A big hand runs up your side, ghosting over your chest and then back down to land on your waist.

"Where'd you get this?" He smiles, eyes anywhere but your face.

"bought it a couple of weeks ago." You softly say, suddenly shy under his gaze, "Do you like it?"

"Love it." Logan smiles, meeting your eyes and letting the towel drop from his waist.

You let him push you down into the soft sheets of your shared bed, moaning a bit when his hands begin to wander.

Warm lips press against your neck, and then your collarbone, and then they begin to trail down to your chest. Logan's hands push the thin straps of your dress off your shoulders and his mouth begins to softly tease one of your nipples while one hand delivers feather-light touches over your panties to the mess between your legs.

Logan's mouth leaves your chest as he pulls you to the edge of the bed, letting his knees hit the ground as he gently pushes your legs apart. His hands pull your panties down and you hear a deep groan when the wet fabric finally hits the floor.

"Missed her," Logan says, pressing a miss to your upper thigh

You roll your eyes at his comment, he had recently taken up talking to your cunt, referring to it as her.

A loud moan escapes your lips as he buries his head between your thighs, licking up your slit and gently sucking at your clit.

"Ugh, Logan..." You groan, you're extra sensitive after a week apart.

Your hips jump off the bed when he slips two fingers into you, pressing at the spongy part that only he can reach.

"Fuck-" You gasp as he sucks at your clit again, this time rougher than the last.

Finally, this is what you needed, you groaned again as you pictured what was coming next. Your stomach tightened with need for release as your cunt wept and ruined the sheets below you. You were desperate for his cock, craving the way you knew it'd stretch you out, putting an end to the past week of torture.

Logan pushes your hips back down as your body goes taut and your orgasm takes over. Your hands tug at his soft brown hair as your chest heaves.

Logan presses a kiss to your clit one more time before sitting back, his eyes looking up at you.

"Not bad." You sigh, a dopey smile on your face

Logan lets out a scoff as he stands up and pulls you further up the bed with him. You greedily run your hands down his chest, admiring the way his muscles tense as your fingertips tease them.

"Greedy," Logan comments as you pull him on top of you

"Can't help it." You sigh, "I've missed you."

"I can tell. She's like a fucking waterpark down there." Logan laughs as he presses a kiss to your forehead.

"You're gross." You comment as you feel your face heat up

"Only for you," Logan says

You suppose you might've had a clever retort but the push of the cock that you had craved all week long has you shutting your mouth.

Logan's hips gently meet yours as he sets a slow pace. A quiet moan leaves his lips as you wiggle below him. The stretch of him is as good as you remember but you need more.

"Harder." You groan as he looks down at you

"Don't wanna hurt you, sweetheart," Logan says worriedly

You a frustrated breath tumbles from your lips as you wiggle your hips unhappily. Logan was always so considerate and gentle with you. Always taking his time and making sure you were okay. He was truly ethereal in the bedroom. But, right now he was driving you nuts.

Logan lets out a loud oof as you push him off you and down onto the bed. You can tell he's confused as you settle yourself into his lap and reach into the bedside drawer.

A smirk plays on his lips as a pair of fuzzy pink handcuffs come into his line of sight.

"Those for you?" He asks, "Want me to tie you up, bub?"

You roll your eyes as he plays with the thin strap of the lingerie that had fallen off your shoulders.

"They're for you." You smile as you grab his wrists, pulling them behind his head so he's stuck to your bed frame.

Logan's smile falters a bit but he lets you maneuver his arms anyway, "I can break these, easily."

"But you won't." You whisper into his ear and bite at the flesh there

"But I won't." Logan softly says, his eyes following your figure

Warm butterflies swim in his stomach as you line him up with your cunt again. He's never tried this position with you before, fearing it might be too much, after all, he wasn't the smallest guy around.

A soft groan leaves your lips as you sink down on him again. He feels your nails dig into his shoulders a bit as his head falls back a bit.

"New position?" He asks, regaining his confidence when he sees you're not in pain

"Mmhm." You say, focused on moving your hips

Logan's eyes widen as he lets you take what you want. The soft fuzz on the handcuffs tickles his skin as he itches to run his hands up and down your pretty body.

"Careful," He cautions you as you roughly move your hips above him

"Logan..." You groan, your eyes squeezed shut

He groans, as your pace quickens. The lust that clouds his brain is a tough fog that he can barely think through. He's worried that you're going to hurt yourself like this.

"M-Missed you so much." You confess, "Been thinking about you all damn week."

"Yeah?" Logan smiles and presses a kiss to your collarbone

"Yeah..." You sigh, "I've been so fucking horny lately."

Perhaps it's your admission or the lacy little thing that has yet to come off your body, or the new position, Logan's not entirely sure, but something in him snaps. Perhaps he shouldn't have been so worried about treating you like some delicate little flower.

The handcuffs don't stand a chance as he frees himself, from them. His hands come up and he quickly pulls out of you. A loud frustrated whine leaves your lips as you let him manhandle you.

"Logan I want to-"

He cuts you off as he spins you around and presses your chest down into the bed. You can feel the way he towers over you as he palms your ass, clearly liking the way it's on display for him.

"Have you ever tried this one?" His deep voice crowds your mind as he pushes into you again. A long moan leaves your lips as he chuckles at your submission.

A wonton cry leaves your lips below him as he finally moves his hips, cock hitting all the right places inside you.

Finally, you were getting what you wanted.

Not me disappearing into the void and then coming back and deciding it's the perfect time to write a bunch of smut...

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saintobio · 11 months ago

Text

sincerely yours. (12)

↳ 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, mentions of cheating, trauma, implied suicide attempt, toxic relationships, illnesses

notes. 11k wc. finally. i wrote this with only one eye open so please don't mind the inconsistencies, i'm trying my best to tie any loose ends before we reach the ending. if the writing feels rushed, it’s bcos i’m just ready to wrap up this series 😭

series masterlist -> episode thirteen

You thought everything that had happened last night was just a dream.

Because you had gotten used to the constant disappointments and vicissitudes of your life, sharing such domestic bliss with the person you loved had started to feel far-fetched for you. It had become an unachievable fantasy, a colorful delusion created by your mind to conceal the actual darkness of pain that surrounded it.

But as you opened your eyes that morning, the familiar warmth of a sleeping Satoru’s embrace was the reality you never saw coming. The steady rise and fall of his chest, the comfort of his arms around you, it all felt surreal—like a fragile dream teetering on the edge of shattering. You wondered if it would be okay to stay here for now. To forget about the rest of the damn world and remain in his arms, staring at his beautiful saintly face, listening to his slow and steady heartbeat.

When Satoru stirred from his sleep, you knew your daydream was over. But he was pulling you dangerously close with arms wrapped around your frame and his lips pressed against your forehead. He was only half-awake, it seemed. His long white lashes reminded you of Sachiro’s as you watched him mumble incoherent words from his sleep, something along the lines of, ‘I’m sorry’ and ‘Akemi’.

That was your cue to pull yourself away from him. With guilt now coursing through your body, you sat up from bed and covered your naked body with the duvet. Akemi. You had completely abandoned the thought of Akemi last night, and now you were here in bed with ‘supposedly’ her man. As much as your heart was in bliss from last night’s events, the dark and cold reality was that you slept with a man who wasn’t yours. It was a principle you told yourself you would never cross, but everything concerning Satoru Gojou seemed to be bringing you to that.

“Satoru, hey.” Your voice almost came out as a plea as you shook his arm, your guilt eating at you with every minute that passed. “Wake up.”

His eyelashes fluttered as he struggled to open his eyes, blinded by the sunlight that gleamed through the window as he stretched his arms and looked at you. “Y/N?” he softly whispered, a hand tenderly placed on your back as he scooted closer. “What’s wrong?”

Slight disbelief blanketed your gaze. “You think this isn’t wrong?”

Satoru let out a sigh of exasperation, pulling his head back, and covering his eyes with a hand as if last night’s events played through his mind scene to scene. He was obviously caught in a mindwreck thinking about the girl he had just cheated on. “It shouldn’t be,” he mumbled, “But it feels like it.”

“So you do regret it,” you laughed at your own words, internally in pain.

“I didn’t say that.” He finally pulled himself back up, sitting as he pulled you towards him. “Y/N, if we really thought last night was wrong, we would have stopped after the first time.” He shook his head at the irony. “Look, it’s on me, alright? I put you in this situation.”

“And I allowed it,” you argued, “I allowed it, Satoru. It makes me feel dirty. I feel like, like I’m wrecking someone else’s home. It’s not me.”

Satoru held his breath, a look of hesitation dawning on his face as he realized that this wasn’t just a dream of his. It was pure and raw reality that he had made a mistake that he could never undo. While thinking it through, he rubbed his eyes and sat up, leaning against the headboard as he assessed the situation. Then, he looked at you, his expression softening as he spoke, “No, not your fault. It’s just complicated,” he insisted, “You didn’t do anything wrong. I’m the one who owes ‘Kemi an apology.”

Each time you heard her nickname from him was a punch to your gut. And each silent cuss that left his lips was an arrow to your heart. So you put it on yourself to accept his reaction. “It’s okay. You can be honest and say last night was a mistake.”

“No, no, no. I didn’t say that,” he replied quickly, reaching out to take your hand.

But you already stood up from the bed, clutching the duvet around your body like a shield against the encroaching chill. Your throat felt tight, and tears threatened to spill, but you fought to keep them at bay. Satoru’s gaze followed you with an expression of helplessness, as if he was struggling to bridge the gap between his rights and wrongs.

As you turned to face him, a knot of frustration and heartache tangled within you. “So, what now?” you asked, trying your hardest to keep your composure. “How are we gonna fix this, Satoru? How?”

Before he could answer, the door to the cabin suddenly burst open, and Akemi stood in the doorway with her eyes wide with shock and fury. The confrontation followed as soon as she caught you in a compromising position with Satoru, and the words she uttered next were ones you least expected from her.

“You’re a hypocrite! You’ve become the person you despised the most when you were married.”

“You’re no better than Sera! And that’s why you’re miserable, and you’ll forever be miserable! If this is your way of getting back at me..”

“Then jokes on you, because Satoru will never be faithful to you. He’ll keep cheating on you, just like he did now with me! You two belong in that cycle!”

You felt like an outsider in your own heartbreak, the confrontation intensifying as you tried to process the bitter truth in silence. All you could do was stand there and cry. Even Satoru’s attempts to placate Akemi were futile as her anger only seemed to grow. The more her eyes danced back and forth between you and her lover, the more she wanted to destroy everything in her path.

Satoru’s face was indiscernible from where you stood. “Akemi, please, just listen—”

Akemi, however, was already turning on her heel and storming back into her cabin while eliciting loud, muffled sobs. Your chest tightened with sorrow and shame. Complete, utter shame of doing this to another woman. How could you even correct a situation like this? How could you pick yourself back up after you just trampled on another woman’s feelings because of your actions?

Satoru, like you, hesitated on his next move, his eyes meeting yours with a look of anguish. “I need to talk to her, Y/N. I’ll be back.”

Without waiting for your response, he already bolted after her, leaving you alone in a quiet, pathetic state. The door slammed behind him, the sound reverberating through the cabin like thunder in a heavy storm.

You didn’t know what to do, didn’t know how to face everyone, didn’t have the guts to even talk to Shoko and Suguru who now both have to deal with such scandals. You were too ashamed of yourself, as if your femininity had been stripped off its rights after you slept with the man you swore you would never get back with.

“I didn’t mean it,” you could only silently whisper your laments, pacing around your cabin while swallowing the weakness that tried to escape. “I hate this.”

The minutes dragged on, and each second stretched into an eternity as you waited for Satoru’s return. For now, you sat down heavily on the edge of the bed, wondering what excuse he was telling Akemi, and what actions he would do to try and calm her down. Did he kiss her, perhaps? Did he cup her face and tell her that you were nothing but a mistake? What was taking him so long? Or were they doing things to try and erase the same deeds you two did last night?

The cacophony of voices and commotion from outside the cabin grew louder, and your curiosity led you to open your door, meeting the eyes of one of the hotel staff who sent you a look full of judgment.

“Where’s…” you hesitated if she was the right person to ask, “Where’s Satoru? Would you know?”

“Oh, ma’am. He already left the hotel half an hour ago… with Miss Akemi.”

Her answer hit you hard like a truck on a highway. And your heart dropped as you realized who became The Fool in these deck of cards. Satoru had not only run off after Akemi, but had also left you behind without a word.

The room felt colder now, the once-intimate sanctuary you shared with your ex-husband now a prison of your own grief. Even the familiar warmth of the bed seemed like a distant memory as you approached it, your body trembling as you thought of how you were treated like a dirty rag, thrown away after being used over and over again.

With a soft, choked sob, you collapsed onto the bed, the duvet still a tangled mess from earlier. And your emotions, so tightly restrained, finally broke free. You pulled the blanket around you as if it could shield you from the crushing pain. The betrayal, the sense of being discarded for another—it all converged into a torrent of anguish. All you could do was cling to the duvet as if it were the only anchor in a stormy sea.

——

Returning home didn’t make the situation any better.

Although you tried to tell yourself that you shouldn’t be waiting on Satoru to contact you, you still found yourself checking your phone multiple times a day. Each second that passed without hearing from him was another stab to your heart. But it shouldn’t feel like that. It shouldn’t, not when Satoru clearly made his choice of choosing yet another woman over you.

Of course, you knew what you did was wrong. In everyone’s eyes, sleeping with someone else’s man was unforgivable. There was no excuse, no way to justify your actions. Even if some people might side with you, saying you owed no one loyalty, it didn’t change how you felt about the whole situation. And that was because you remembered all too well the pain of being cheated on, and letting another woman endure the same heartbreak and betrayal was a weight on your conscience that you couldn’t ignore.

Sighing, you turned to the left side of the bed and saw Sachiro sleeping peacefully, clutching his favorite starfish plushie in his tiny arms. The thought of losing your son was unbearable, especially when he was your only source of calm amid the chaos that surrounded you. Caring for him was your solace, and his innocent presence served as a band-aid for your wounded heart. The most heart-wrenching part of this was knowing you couldn’t even repay him for the stability he brought you. Sachiro deserved a complete family to enrich his life, yet you—as his own biological mother—were unable to give him that.

“Sleep tight, Sachi.” You lightly stroked his white hair before planting a soft kiss on his cheek. “Don’t let the bed bugs bite.”

The past few weeks had been a blur of emotions, work, and parenting—with each day blending into the next like a tornado of dull colors. You still hadn’t heard from Satoru, but the days of waiting and checking your phone for any notification from him did gradually stop. The only thing that didn’t stop replaying in your head like a broken record was the cabin incident, the very night that drew all these overthinking in your mind and in your heart.

Returning to work did provide some distraction, but it didn’t take away the sting. It also didn’t help that your staff noticed the change in your demeanor, and how distracted you often were during your meetings and warehouse visits. Even Nobara was worried about how absentminded you had become, but you brushed off all their concerns with a forced smile. After all, staying at home would do you worse than being at work.

Now, you were back in your office, and the soft knock on the door cut you off from your trance. It was Yuki peeking through the small opening on your door, her usual professional demeanor softened by a concerned expression. “Hey, Y/N. Do you have a minute?” she asked, stepping inside and closing the door behind her with a quiet click.

You nodded, trying to muster a smile. “Sure, Yuki. What’s up?”

“I wanted to check in on you,” she began, taking a seat opposite your desk, “If you need to extend your vacation, please, by all means, go ahead. It’s off-season, anyway. I’ll take care of everything here while you’re focusing on yourself.”

That wasn’t really a good idea. And you shouldn’t be slacking off work when this very fashion house you establish used to be your passion, not your job. Yet here you were, losing all the inspiration to even run a business. “I don’t know if I have the energy for anything else right now.”

“Well, if you’re too worried about leaving work,” Yuki continued, her tone shifting to a more business-like note, “the progress we’ve made with Hearte is looking really promising. The new collection is getting great feedback, and our upcoming showcase is shaping up well. We’re on track for a strong quarter.”

“All because of you, Yuki.” A spark of gratitude appeared on your face. “Thanks for the update. It’s good to know things are moving in the right direction.”

She then stood up and gave you a reassuring smile. “I’m here if you need anything, Y/N. But seriously, take some time for yourself. You deserve it.”

On that same evening, you came home to your father’s mansion, and the first thing that greeted you when you entered the foyer was Gen sitting by the living room. And needless to say, her expression was a mix of concern and frustration as if she had been waiting for you to return. You weren’t really in the mood to have some back-and-forths with her, but you also didn’t like how she dropped her phone on the table and crossed her arms, her eyes narrowing at you like she was a mother who could scold you like a child.

“I’m not even gonna say anything at this point, but did you really do it with him?” Gen’s voice was low, but the disappointment was palpable. You could feel it from a few meters away.

“What are you talking about?” you bit back, your already-terrible mood swings shifting into an unhealthy direction.

Gen responded by pointing at her phone, gesturing for you to take a look at whatever’s on it. Reluctantly, you grabbed the device, and as you were scrolling through the screen, you stumbled upon a blind item circulating on social media. The words were vague but pointed, hinting at a scandalous encounter between two ex-spouses, both of whom were well-known figures. Great. Your heart stopped as you realized that the article was very much about you and Gojou.

The online comments were brutal, not like you weren’t used to anonymous harassment anyway, but these ones were full of speculating and judging without knowing the full story. Everyone also seemed to be siding with “Ms. A” instead of you as though the person behind the article was clearly trying to paint you as the villain. It was written for the purpose of destroying your reputation rather than any regular exposé, and whoever wrote it was definitely someone who disliked you.

Your shoulders slumped as you scrolled through hate comment after hate comment, a seemingly endless vitriol for someone they didn’t even know, and avoided your sister’s gaze knowing full well that seeing her expression would only make you feel worse.

“Is it true?” your sister asked like there was even an ounce of chance that it was simply a rumor. Unfortunately, it was anything but.

Sliding her phone back on the coffee table, you drew in a deep breath. “I can’t undo it, Gen. It happened.”

“So, you did sleep with him? Am I hearing this right?” Gen sighed, rubbing her temples. “Do you have any idea what this could do to you? To Sachiro? People are ruthless, and now this blind item is all over the place and they’re targeting you like a punching bag!”

Your mouth felt heavy, as if it was weighed down by an invisible burden, making it difficult to form words or speak. And before you could think of a response, Ian became your temporary savior as he walked in with a calm but serious mien. “I’ve seen the post,” he said, holding up his phone. “It’s clearly defamatory, and we can take legal action. I’ll handle it.”

Even though Ian was a man of remarkable phlegm, you remained abashed, knowing that everyone’s feasting at the juicy rumor that you slept with your ex-husband. Yet, the only thing you could do was to put on a front. To save face. To act like someone you’re not. “Thank you, Ian. I’d appreciate that.”

Anticipating another lecture from Gen about Satoru, you began retreating to your room with your footsteps bouncing desperately on the grand staircase. This conversation was done. You just weren’t there to hear it anymore. However, as you climbed the stairs with a vacant mind, you could still hear your sister calling out to you.

“Y/N!” she called, her voice now tinged with concern. “I’m not going to give you a hard time. We can sort this issue out. Maturely.”

“I’m good.” Sorry, Gen. It was the anxious-avoidant side of you speaking. You didn’t want to discuss such a sensitive situation to anyone, even with your sister, because you weren’t ready to face all the negativity it would put you through. You were already dealing with enough, and going through yet another emotional turmoil might actually put you to your deathbed at this point.

So, for now, isolating yourself from the world was the best choice.

And as soon as you entered your room, you saw Sachiro’s nanny tucking him into bed. All your worries and self-destructive thoughts vanished in an instant the moment you looked at your son. It was like the heavens gave you your personal angel, a cute little cherub who brought nothing but light and happiness to your life. He was your sunshine, your shooting star, your bundle of joy. Nothing in this world could erase the pessimist in you than little Sachiro.

“I got it from here.” You thanked the nanny and asked her to close the door before quickly joining your son in bed, wrapping him in a warm, comforting hug—more for your own comfort than his.

“Mama?” he asked, his voice unusually raspy, and his chest rising and falling heavily. “I mwiss you, mama!”

You pressed your lips onto his forehead. “I miss you too, my baby. How was daycare today?”

He seemed to struggle to speak too, but Sachiro still did his best to recount his day while he was trying to catch air in between his sentences. “Teacher ask Sachi to go home, mama. Sachi is tired.”

“Baby, are you okay? Are you sick?” Now, your motherly instincts kicked in immediately. You could tell something was wrong, so you reached for a thermometer from the bedside drawer to check his temperature, and listened to his breathing at the same time. “What happened to Sachi? Do you want Mommy to take you to the hospital?”

Sachiro shook his head and gave you a sleepy smile. “No, mama. Sachi is just sweepy.”

When the thermometer beeped, you were relieved to see that his temperature was normal. “Are you having trouble breathing, my sweetheart?” You looked into his droopy eyes and gently placed your hand on his chest.

Once again, Sachiro shook his head. Maybe you were just overthinking. He often ran around the house or played in the bathtub before bed, which could explain why he seemed out of breath. It wasn’t the first time it happened.

“Okay, Sachi. Go to sleep now. Close your eyes, baby.”

“Night night, mama.”

For now, you turned off the night lamp, and headed to the bathroom in silent and careful steps. It was quiet enough indeed, but in your head was an awful noise you couldn’t escape. And stepping into the shower only increased the warfare in your mind, as it immediately brought images of Satoru and Akemi back in the cabin, the harsh comments from the article, and the lack of contact from your ex-husband which all overwhelmed you at once. By now, he would have already seen that article. Nanami or Miwa might have already alerted him about it. But the fact that he said nothing, the fact that he let the public scrutinize you, destroy you with such vile, hurtful words behind their screens brought you a kind of pain that you wouldn’t wish upon anyone else.

Because if it was Akemi in that position, he would have defended her in a heartbeat.

So in your silence, under the cascading water of the shower, you let the tears flow—its warmth distinguishable compared to the cold droplets falling on you. If only you had successfully drowned yourself that night at the lake. If only Satoru didn’t pull you back in, none of this would have happened.

That moment was deeply poignant to you, and you saw him in a new light you thought you would never see again because of the darkness of your past. Yet, with the events that followed your special moment, memories eventually turned into spite. Your sweet exchange twisted into something bitter. Looking back at that time when he kissed you at the lake now made you feel nauseous and hollow inside, with bile forming on your throat and threatening to be retched.

The most gut-wrenching part about this was the fact that there wasn’t anyone left who could rescue you from this abyss of heartache anymore.

——

There had been a sense of detachment in your emotions in the following days that passed, almost as though they belonged to a stranger inhabiting your body. Toji, the only person who comforted you at times like these, was no longer by your side to fulfill the warmth you once desperately sought, and now you were alone to face this cruel, mind-numbing battle all by yourself. It was you against the world. You against the entire populace inhabiting this living hell. And with that many enemies against one, how could you win?

It was quite funny, actually, that your humor took a surprising turn when you thought of how Sera must have felt when it was revealed to the public that she was Satoru’s mistress. The irony didn’t even stop at your thoughts alone, it manifested itself outside Hearte’s headquarters, wearing a pink puffer jacket and a white prairie skirt.

“Sera?” you blurted out her name in wonder, nonplussed as you got out of the car to approach her.

“Hey, Y/N.” She offered a casual smile while carrying an air of sophistication around her. That wasn’t the only thing that changed about Sera. Her hair was also shorter than the last you saw her, her face now sporting a more natural makeup, and her outfit a more modest yet classy choice. It was no longer the Sera who tried hard to fit in amongst the upper echelon of society, but a Sera who seemed to be satisfied at her current standing in life.

What an awkward encounter. Was her presence your hypocritical reminder for sleeping with Satoru behind Akemi’s back?

“What are you doing here?” you asked.

And she answered with, “I read about what happened. You know, the thing on the internet.” She took a moment to pause, probably trying to choose the right words to say to her previous adversary. Because in a way, you two weren’t exactly friends. And you were no longer rivals either. Satoru was the only common denominator here, and Sera proved her exact sentiments about him by saying, “I just wanted to let you know that I understand your side. It’s a tough situation.”

You looked at her, searching for any hint of insincerity, but found none. “You were once on my spot,” you pointed out and gauged whether or not she would take the bait. For all you know, she could be putting on an act. “I’m assuming you’re here to rub it in my face how much of a hypocrite I am.”

“No, that’s not it.” Sera was vehemently denying any malice on her intentions, and was instead trying to show you the sympathy of a woman who was once caught in the same predicament. “Look, I know it’s weird that I’m here out of all people. But the truth is, I just had to let you know that someone’s on your side. I’ve met the girl, okay? That… whoever she is. I don’t remember her name, and I hate having to pit two women against each other, but I’m telling you it’s about time you cut Satoru off your life. Completely. She doesn’t look like someone who’d easily let go. You’re just gonna suffer, Y/N.”

Perhaps three years was too far back in your life and that tables could turn in a direction that you didn’t expect, as you could recall fragments of memories from when your only dilemma was dealing with Satoru and Sera in your marriage. She used to be besotted with your ex-husband back then. But now, it wasn’t until you heard the way she spoke about him that you realized she must be harboring a grudge deeper than you had imagined. After all, he did ruin her life in ways you couldn’t imagine. And her advice, though unsolicited, made sense. Because you could understand where she was going with it. You could see the true intentions clearly conveyed by her face.

The only problem here was that you didn’t have it in your heart to agree with her. You were too much of an empathic person to be taking sides, even if the supposed villain in this painting was the ex-husband who, time and time again, hurt you. Your heart stubbornly cared for Satoru deep down, and your wifely instinct of defending him no matter how poorly he acted had always been there. No one could hate Satoru more than you did, that was true, but you also weren’t very accepting of hearing others describe him as this ruthless, cheating bastard.

That was the reason why talking to Gen had eventually exhausted you. Because no one knew the real Satoru Gojou behind his facade of an irresponsible and reckless husband.

“Now that you’re here…” The idea to redirect the conversation to another topic struck you, unwilling to engage in a conversation that pushed Satoru in a bad light. “Would you be interested in being a model for our upcoming campaign? We’re launching a new collection, and I think you’d be perfect.”

Sera’s eyes were an amalgam of confusion and surprise. “Uh, I mean… I’d love to, but why so sudden?”

“You have the face for it.” You shrugged, but still sent a smile her way. “Are you working right now? If not, this could open doors for you to be discovered by modeling agencies. I’m closely tied with them since I work in the fashion industry, so I can do a few calls if you want.”

“Hold on, I’m—” Sera touched her head, laughing as if she were dreaming this conversation. “Y/N, you’re doing too much here. I mean, I’d obviously love that, but wouldn’t it be awkward? People know me as your ex-husband’s mistress, and if they recognize me in Hearte ads, I’m sure as hell those fuck ass netizens won’t stop talking about it.”

She had a point, a very good point, but then again, your suggestion was only brought up because you had to change the topic. “Well, it’s just an offer to consider in the future.”

“And I appreciate you always extending a hand to help me even if I did you wrong in the past,” she said, feelings of shame lacing her voice. “I haven’t forgotten about what you did for my brother, that’s why I’m here. I’m not your enemy anymore, Y/N.”

Just then, the roaring engine of a classic red Ferrari pulled up to the curb, interrupting the unexpected conversation you were having with your ex-husband’s former mistress. The window rolled down to reveal a pink-haired man whom you recognized as Ryomen Sukuna, an up and coming tech mogul, that Toji had mentioned about many times before. His eyes were only on one woman alone, and it wasn’t you. “Ready to go, babe?”

Honestly, good for Sera. No wonder her aura had become different. They seemed to be in a stable committed relationship, something that you could only ever dream about. If karma was truly real, this was the perfect example for it.

In the back seat, you spotted a younger boy who looked exactly like Sukuna and, surprisingly, Megumi, the son of your ex-fiancé. Really? How many more people were you going to ‘coincidentally’ run into today?

“Hello, miss!” the other boy called out cheerfully, while Megumi offered a polite nod. You replied with a wave, feeling a small sense of normalcy in their innocent presence.

“I gotta get going, Y/N,” excused Sera, gesturing a civil goodbye.

But as she moved to get into the car, your phone buzzed in your pocket. A single glance at the screen made your heart drop. It was a call from the hospital.

“Hello?” you answered almost immediately, pressing the phone on your ears with a tight push.

“Ms. Y/N, this is the hospital. Your son, Sachiro Gojou, is in the ICU. We need you to come as soon as possible.”

Your stomach contracted into a tight ball as you stood rigid with terror. Then and there, the world seemed to tilt on its axis. “Wh-What do you mean he’s in the hospital?!” you managed to shout, swept by horripilation from the sudden news. “What happened to my son?! What’s—!”

Sera’s concerned gaze met yours as you desperately yelled into the phone, hyperventilating. Your trembling hand was threatening to drop the phone. “Y/N, is everything okay?”

“My son… I… he…,” you stammered, your voice shaky with fear and urgency. Your muscles locked in a momentary paralysis, eyes wide with astonishment, and surprise rendering you immobile. The thought of Sachiro in a critical state was about to make you faint, with the last bits of images you saw that afternoon were of Sera and her boyfriend rushing to catch you from completely falling to the ground.

——

Megumi didn’t know how to deliver the bad news.

He came home after Yuuji’s brother rushed you to the hospital, shocked by everything that happened in a span of a single day. His mind was aching from all the thinking he was doing; praying that little Sachiro will be fine, hoping that you would stay strong throughout, and lastly, wondering how he would break it to his dad that something terrible had happened.

His father wasn’t exactly the greatest man to tread this Earth, especially not after the drunken words he had ‘mistakenly’ uttered to you that night in Miami that resulted in your separation. Yes, Megumi knew every word and detail. His father told him everything just as a sober man would. Did you really think that the Toji Zen’in you knew would sputter that utter nonsense to you? That you had an empty soul. That he couldn’t be with someone like you. That you would forever be a placeholder to Megumi’s mother. Bullshit. None of those were true. His father told him that the reason he had to say those words, as piercing and trenchant as they may be, was because it was the only way he could free you from being caged in a relationship your heart didn’t genuinely want.

It was Toji’s last resort to hurt you with his words, hoping that you would wake up from your false fantasy and finally have a reason to leave a relationship with a man that wasn’t Satoru Gojou. If Megumi’s father wasn’t at the top of the list of Forbes’ richest men in Japan, he would have felt a great deal of inferiority complex over a younger man like Gojou. Not because of his looks and his riches, but because he had you. No matter what Satoru did, no matter how many times he hurt you, he was and would always be that man you wanted to be with.

Sighing, Megumi’s first task upon coming home was to check on his father’s room, only to find the dark room void of its owner. When he made his way down the grand staircase, he met an ill-spirited Naoya who was ranting to Mai about Sera flaunting Sukuna in front of his face. Megumi’s sigh was then followed by another. The drama in this house was relentless. He felt like he was exhaling endlessly, like a malfunctioning appliance.

“Where’s dad?” asked Megumi, directing her question to a more rational Maki.

The tall, green-haired girl gave him a knowing shrug. “You already know,” she said, “Drowning himself in alcohol down at the bar.”

As always.

Megumi jogged around the estate to eventually find his father at one of the wet bars near his home office. He was there, seated on a stool, his head drooping low with a glass of premium scotch in hand. How many glasses he’d had, Megumi could only hope the numbers weren't that high. But upon approaching his father, his presence was barely acknowledged as he sat on the stool next to him, suggesting that the grown man might be more inebriated than his son had expected.

“Dad,” spoke the Zen’in heir, “Dad, you good?”

Toji lifted his head up, three sheets to the wind, as a smile crept up on his scarred lips. “Son.”

“Let me take that.” Megumi grabbed a hold of the glass of scotch, sliding the strong liquor away from his father. “There’s something I ought to tell you.”

Toji stayed nonchalant, sitting upright and tapping his fingers on the counter. “What’s it about this time?” he asked. “I’ve told you, I can’t stop the elders from arranging your marriage unless you’re honest with me about someone you like. I know you have someone in mind, but you’re not saying who. Are you just shy?”

Megumi gave his father a look of exasperation. He’s rambling, he thought, frustrated with his father’s inebriated chattering. “It’s not about that. It’s about Y/N-san.”

The mention of your name was the only thing that made Toji's demeanor shift to one of genuine concern. “What happened?”

“Sachi’s in a critical condition,” the younger Zen’in went straight to the point, “Y/N-san went manic over it and fainted before we could get her to the hospital.”

Toji was quick to grab his coat and car keys, as if all the alcohol in his system had immediately evaporated. But before he could leave, Megumi caught his father’s arm and pulled him back.

“What?” said Toji, concern and urgency blanketing his gaze. “I need to be with her.”

“Do you really need to?” Megumi countered. “Dad, I know it’s not right for me to stop you in this crucial situation, but are you gonna do this every time she’s in trouble? Do you plan to do this forever? Do you plan to keep drowning yourself in alcohol thinking about her? We care for her like family, that’s true, but you and her aren’t a thing anymore. Your responsibilities in taking care of her should stop, too. You, yourself, said it’d be best if she stopped being reliant on you. Now, do yourself a favor and stop trying to be this pathetic superhero.”

The concern etching on Tojis’s face softened into a sense of realization, a sense of candidness that only someone as straightforward as his own son could evoke. Megumi had to, not because he didn’t care for you anymore, but because he had to ensure he wouldn’t lose his father over a relationship that had already ended. Toji was the only real family Megumi had left.

“Stay, dad,” he pleaded, “Please.”

Toji took a deep breath and released it in the same second. “Okay,” he softly said, ruffling his son’s hair. “I won’t leave.”

——

Why is it that you keep attracting things, places, and people that you disliked the most?

You hated hospitals, and you had spoken about it enough to make it clear how much you dreaded going to a place where your worst memories had taken root. Yet, the sterile environment seemed to beckon you, dragging you back with a new nightmare each time. It was beyond your worst fears that you would find yourself racing through the halls mere minutes after regaining consciousness, desperately trying to reach where your son was.

Please be okay. Please be okay.

Frantically, you scanned the corridors, searching for the ICU and hoping that what you had just heard was nothing more than a cruel illusion, that this was all just a nightmare. You weren’t a deeply devout person, but you did send prayers to every saint you could think of, hoping that Sachiro’s current state wasn’t in the median between life and death.

Because if you lost your son, then there was no point in living anymore. This life wouldn’t be worth enduring.

“Y/N!”

You weren’t the first one to arrive outside the pediatric ICU, with Gen and your father already being there moments before you came. You were struggling to breathe by the time you reached them, feeling your heart race with a thunderous beat. “Gen… Dad, what h-happened to him?” You couldn’t stop the weakness in your voice. “Tell me he’s fine, please. Please. My baby. If anything h-happens to him, I’m g-gonna die, Gen! I c-can’t h-have that!”

Gen quickly enveloped you in a tight embrace, trying to offer any form of comfort she could. “I’m so sorry, Y/N. Dad and I are just as shocked.” She held you closer, her voice trembling as she, too, was just as anxious as you. “Sachi refused to eat and complained about having a hard time breathing. He was so pale and his lips were blue. We knew we had to rush him to the hospital immediately.”

“Oh my God.” Your hand flew to your mouth, trying to stifle the uncontrollable cries that were escaping. The news of Sachiro developing cyanosis shattered your heart, and the crushing reality that you weren’t there to take care of him tore you apart. “My baby, no. No, no. H-He—”

“Y/N!”

Out of breath and also visibly shaken was the father of your son, Satoru, who came running to your side the moment his eyes landed on you. Behind him was his mother, clutching a rosary in her hand as both of them were seemingly shell-shocked in the same magnitude as you and your family were. Everyone cared for Sachiro’s well-being, everyone prayed for his safety, and the thought of losing an angel like your son was a soul-crushing thought that sent you slipping into a chasm of suffering.

“Wh-What happened to Sachi?” Satoru asked in desperation, his question raised to everyone in the vicinity—you, your family, the nurses. But no one could give him a decent answer. “Please, tell me my son’s alright. Tell me.”

You watched him walk in circles, raking his fingers through his hair as if he was seeking anything to hold onto. And you, feeling that magnet that pulled you closer to him, broke away from Gen’s embrace to look at your son’s father. “Satoru…”

“Y/N,” his voice cracked as he met your gaze, “Our son.” He stopped, ready to wrap you in a hug—a moment of solace you both desperately needed in this critical time. But just as he pulled you close in a fragile attempt to find comfort together, the door to the ICU swung open, abruptly ending the brief respite.

All of you immediately rushed over to the doctor, the sterile white walls and the distant hum of hospital machinery did nothing to calm the turmoil inside you.

“Doctor, how’s he?”

“How’s my grandson, doc?”

“Doc, my son, is he okay?”

“Is he stable, doc?”

“Doctor, how’s my son, please?” you asked, your body growing tense to the point of shaking.

The doctor took a deep breath, his expression serious amidst the fusillade of questions thrown at him. “We’re currently running a series of tests on the patient. We suspect Sachiro may have congenital heart disease, specifically a ventricular septal defect with associated pulmonary hypertension.”

No, it can’t be. It’s not possible! The words hit you like a punch to the gut. You struggled to process the information, your vision blurring with tears and your heart drumming a rapid staccato inside. You didn’t need to look at everyone to know that they all, for a moment, looked at you. “Heart disease? But… how? I didn’t think—”

“Can you explain more, doc? Please.” Gojou was desperate, his bright blue eyes now dull and severely clouded with a brewing storm. It was as if he was keeping himself from crying.

The doctor continued gently, “VSD is a condition where there’s a hole in the heart’s ventricular septum. It can lead to pulmonary hypertension, which means the blood pressure in the lungs is elevated. It’s a serious condition, but we’re doing everything we can to assess the extent and provide the best treatment.”

“N-No, oh God. My baby.” You felt your knees go weak, and you sank down against the wall, with more tears cascading down your cheeks like waterfall. The weight of the diagnosis was crushing, but the hardest part was realizing that this was something you had unknowingly passed on to Sachiro. The heart disease was inherited from you and had now manifested in your beloved son.

It’s my fault. It’s my fault!

The doctor placed a reassuring hand on your shoulder. “We’ll keep you updated as soon as we have more information. Please, try to stay calm, Y/N. It’s not best for your heart to panic right now. Sachiro is in good hands.”

You were unable to speak through the sobs that wracked your body. The hospital corridor felt endless, and you couldn’t shake the feeling of guilt and helplessness that consumed you. You could feel all eyes on you, judging, harboring hatred, carrying deep-rooted resentment. You were torn apart by the knowledge that the very thing you had feared most was now a reality for your son.

“It’s… It’s my fault,” you sobbed, covering your face with your quivering hands, “This is all my fault. I gave it to Sachiro, I… I’m a terrible mother!”

Gen knelt beside you, her hands gripping your shoulders with a firm yet gentle touch. “Y/N, stop it. This is not your fault. You didn’t choose this for Sachiro.”

Your father, who had been pacing anxiously nearby, joined in. “Your sister’s right. You’re blaming yourself for something beyond your control. We’re all here for you. We’ll figure this out.”

But amidst your familial exchange, Satoru stood nearby, frozen and listless. His silence only added to the overwhelming distress. Was he also blaming you for what Sachiro was going through right now? Was he also angry at you for putting his son into this critical situation?

Suddenly, a familiar voice cut through the commotion—voice that was equally harsh and spiteful. It was Satoru’s mother, boring her fiery eyes into your skull as she opened her mouth. “That’s right! You’re self-aware, aren’t you?” she spat and stood rigidly, arms crossed defensively over her chest. “This is all your fault. You’re such an irresponsible mother! You can’t even take care of my grandson properly, and now you’ve passed your disease onto him!”

You looked up in shock, seeing Satoru’s mother standing there with a disdainful expression. The sting of her words felt like a knife twisting in your heart, because they were true. They were painful, yes, but they were true. And all you could do was lower yourself until you were sitting on your haunches, trying to make yourself as small as possible.

“Excuse me?!” Gen stood up, her eyes blazing with anger that came from the deepest pits of hell. “You’re unbelievable, Auntie. How dare you speak to my sister like that! You have no right to blame her for this. I hope to God it was you in the ICU right now instead of Sachiro!”

“You…!”

Satoru’s mother raised a hand to slap Gen, but your father stepped forward, his face a mix of disbelief and indignation. “This is despicable. How can you stand here and say such things to someone who’s already suffering? Weren’t you friends with my wife once?”

Satoru, who had been standing still, suddenly moved with a menacing calm. His face was hard as stone, and his eyes narrowed in anger. What was scarier was him approaching his mother with a threatening stance. “Are you really this pathetic, mother?” Satoru questioned with a cold, cutting tone. “Do you get off on making Y/N suffer? Do you think you’ve gotten away with slapping her behind my back? You don’t get to blame Y/N for anything. Any fucking thing!”

His mother’s eyes widened in shock, but she tried to defend herself at the ruthless stance her son was carrying. All of you were stunned at the realization of how Satoru resembled his cruel father at that moment. “B-But Satoru, my son—”

“Shut up!” Satoru cut her off, his voice harsh and unforgiving, before he threw his cold knuckles against the hard surface of the concrete wall. “I don’t want to see your face ever again! Don’t consider yourself my mother any longer, you witch. You’ve lost that privilege.”

This took a wild turn, and hearing the brutality of Satoru’s words was like a thunderclap in the tense atmosphere. His mother’s face turned pale, her mouth opening and closing in shock as she struggled to respond.

“Get out of here,” Satoru commanded, his voice uncaring towards her. “Leave, and don’t ever come back. You’re nobody to me now.”

With that, Satoru’s mother turned and fled, stumbling down the corridor as if she was the victim in this situation. However, the tension in the air began to dissipate as soon as she left, leaving you, Satoru, Gen, and your father in a heavy silence. Only your sniffles could be heard.

Even Gen, who was often hostile around your ex-husband, had remained quiet and composed after she watched him take such drastic measures to keep his mother away.

Everyone was silent. Pure, unbothered silence until Satoru’s phone began to buzz loudly, cutting through the stillness of the hallway. For a moment, he closed his eyes, then he fished his phone out of his pocket where you caught a glimpse of the caller ID.

Akemi.

——

The ICU only allowed short visits and one person at a time, so there was no need for everyone to stay the night. You were the parent, you were the one responsible for your son’s situation, so you insisted it was best for your dad and Gen to go home and get some rest. You didn’t mind watching over your son for the whole night, because coming home without him was the last thing you would do right now.

My precious angel.

Sachiro lay in the hospital bed, his small chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm. The doctors had managed to stabilize him for now, and the sight of his heart monitor showing a stable rhythm was a small comfort amidst the chaos.

Still, you sat by his bedside, mindful of your timed visit as your hands gently held his tiny ones, feeling the warmth of his small fingers. You glanced down at the medical report on your other hand, trying to make sense of the complex terms and figures.

The words blurred together as your tears fell silently onto the paper. “I’m sorry, baby.” He didn’t deserve this. He’s just a baby. “Mommy’s very sorry.”

You tried to stay strong, putting on a brave face for your son, but inside, you were falling apart. It was impossible not to blame yourself over this, wishing you could do more than just be present around him. This was the comeuppance of your own actions after you focused on your own emotions for the past few weeks to the point of neglecting your son’s wellbeing. If you had been more present in his life, if you had been more observant, you would have easily noticed the signs. Now, you allowed Satoru to find a flaw in your duty as a mother, and he could cite this very event as evidence to get full custody of him. That is, if he were to ever consider taking your son away from you.

But in the first place, he should be the last person to do that, because where exactly was he now?

Your thoughts kept drifting back to the earlier scene, where he excused to answer Akemi’s call, and later that night told you he had to leave and “check something” urgently. He promised he’d be back before midnight, but where was he?

Resentment began to fester within you.

You had been very perceptive of Akemi’s feelings, apologetic in the way you supposedly betrayed her, but the fact that she was still scrambling for Satoru’s attention in the midst of your son’s hospitalization was something you could never forgive her for.

And as for Sachiro’s father, how could he prioritize another woman when his own son was in such a critical state? The confusion of his actions was overwhelming. It felt like a cruel deja vu that, at a time when you needed him the most, he was choosing to be elsewhere. You could accept it if it was a choice between you and another woman, but between his son and her? His behavior was unacceptable, disgusting even, and it only served to deepen your grudge against him.

You clenched your fists, trying to push away the surge of anger that threatened to consume you after seeing that the disparity in his actions felt like both a betrayal and a slap to the face. Your poor son. You stared at Sachiro’s peaceful face and stroked his cheek. How could Satoru be so indifferent to his own flesh and blood?

The room was silent except for the soft beeping of the heart monitor and your quiet sobs. The situation was almost too much to bear, and your resentment towards Gojou grew heavier by the second. Each minute felt like a lifetime, and the emptiness left by his absence was a constant reminder that yet again he chose another woman over his own family.

It’s okay. You took a deep breath, trying to steady yourself. I won’t leave you, Sachi. For Sachiro’s sake, you needed to find the strength to carry on, to be the mother he needed in this moment of crisis and never again failing to be there for your only child.

At exactly 10:30 pm, the nurse came in and told you visiting hours were over. You complied.

At 11:00 pm, Ian paid you a quick visit and talked to the nurses, perhaps giving them reminders to look after you.

At 12:00 am, you were alone again. Seated at one of the benches outside the ICU—sleepless, starving, and nauseous.

At 2:00 am, you remained in your seat despite the sterile smell of antiseptic mingling with your own discomfort. The flickering fluorescent lights above did little to help you get some proper sleep. The cold air-conditioning alao made you shiver slightly, hugging your own body to try and give yourself some warmth.

At 4:00 am, you awakened from the noise of the movements beside you. Realizing you had fallen asleep, you looked up and saw Satoru taking a seat to your left. His coat was draped over his arm, and he offered it to you.

“Are you cold?” he asked, his voice softer than usual, but you could see the bags under his eyes suggesting the sleepless nights he’d had for the past few days. “You can use my coat.”

You took the coat, but as you caught a whiff of it, a familiar scent of Akemi’s perfume lingered. Rose Prick by Tom Ford. It was a scent you’d come to recognize after your years of being her best friend, and it made your stomach turn slightly. Without any hesitation, you handed the coat back to him. “No, thank you. I’m fine,” you replied, avoiding his gaze. Looking into his eyes was the last thing you would do.

And you knew Satoru was sighing, but didn’t press the issue. “The nurse mentioned you haven’t eaten today.” He pulled out a small bag of assorted fruits, placing it gently on the seat between you. You eyed the offerings, feeling a pang of hunger but also a strange aversion. “I bought some fruit. Is there anything you like?”

You took a deep breath and broke the silence with a hint of sarcasm. “You’re really good at this, huh?”

“At what?” was his immediate question, puzzled.

“Hitting two birds with one stone.”

“Y/N…”

“Stop trying to take care of me,” you interrupted, your tone sharper than intended. “ I don’t need it.”

“But—”

You swallowed the lump in your throat. “You can’t even be here for Sachi. You can’t even choose your son. He’s in a life and death situation and we’re still only receiving scraps of your attention.” It was the deep-seated grudge spilling out of you. “You’re so good at abandoning people, huh? Even though that’s what you hate the most. You’re so good at disappearing without even a text or call to check on me and our son. After that night at the cabin, you just…” you paused, realizing that you were opening too much of your heart to a man who didn’t deserve it. “Forget it. Just go home to Akemi. Live a happy life, build a family with her. Forget us. I don’t care. I’ll take care of Sachiro myself. I’ve done it for three years!”

“Y/N, I’m not trying to hurt you. I just…” Satoru fumbled for words, his somber blue eyes bearing the history of your shared heartbreak. It was as though the painful memories of your past were flooding his thoughts, seeking justification as to why he couldn’t pick you again this time. “I had to be there for her. She’s…”

You turned away before he could see your expression, because your heart was splintering at the thought of Satoru Gojou shattering it once more. As he always did. There seemed to be no end to this relentless heartbreak, as if any hope of a happy ever after with the man you loved would only return a pain that was a hundred times worse. Perhaps, this was destiny’s way of telling you that you and him weren’t meant to be. That any wishful thinking of being with Satoru again was only something that you could expect in another universe.

So, in your defense, you had to pull on a facade. A mask that you had to wear in the face of being the target of never-ending despair. “Satoru, I don’t want to talk about it,” you said firmly, concealing the raw ache in your voice with a smile. “And I don’t expect you to choose me every time. It’s okay. It’s happened before.”

“Can’t you see I’m hurting, too?” he asked, his voice breaking. Though you couldn’t see his face, the tremor in his voice revealed his struggle to hold back tears.

You couldn’t understand why he would be hurting with his decision. When faced with two crossroads, he always seemed to pick the path that led away from you. So instead of trying to comprehend his pain, you decided it was time to honor your own. For your sake. For Sachiro’s.

“Let’s just forget about that night,” you declared, wiping your eyes as you got up from your seat and prepared to walk away. “From this day forward, let’s pretend it never happened.”

——

Akemi’s apartment was dark when Satoru stepped inside.

And to be honest, the darkness was a relief. At least, she wouldn’t be able to see the lassitude etched on his face, not just from juggling his time between his son and her, but from the constant ache of hurting the person he loved.

Miscommunication is a couple’s greatest enemy, and the persistent disconnect between you two, coupled with the reluctance to clear things up, had worn Satoru down. He wanted to end this—the feeling of helplessness and the torment of seeing the woman he cared for caught in a labyrinth of despair.

The hospital visits to Sachiro alone had been a whirlwind of emotions and responsibilities, and this brief visit to Akemi felt like an unwelcome detour, but one he couldn’t avoid. Satoru knew his heart wanted to stay in the hospital with you, to wait for any updates on his son, to hold your hand and care for you, yet here he was, dragging his feet across the carpeted floors to approach Akemi.

“Hey.” She was sitting on the couch, looking frail but alert as if she had been desperately waiting on his arrival. She had recently started treatment for her stage 3 endometrial cancer, and Satoru could see the toll it was taking on her, physically and emotionally. He would be cruel to leave her hanging like this, to neglect her at her worst when she had been there by his side at his. Satoru had an unspoken accountability on her, because it wouldn’t be fair for him to just abandon her after she poured all her heart and soul into helping Gojou get back onto his own feet.

“Hey, ‘Kemi,” he said, his tone soft but distant. “Did you take your meds today?”

Akemi looked up at him, her eyes tired and heavy. “I did. I took them just like the doctor said. How’s Sachiro?”

Gojou’s expression tightened. “He’s holding steady at the moment.”

A heavy silence settled between them before Akemi broke the tension. “I’m glad he’s stable,” she said, quietly. “Are you okay?”

He nodded once, his mind already drifting back to the hospital. “Yeah. Listen, I need to head back soon. Nanami and Miwa will be alternating in looking after you from now on. They’ll make sure you’re okay while I’m dealing with Sachiro. I have to focus on my son.”

Akemi’s frail hand reached out to gently grip his arm, the other held her lower abdomen in pain. “Satoru, please don’t go just yet. Can’t you stay a little longer?”

Now’s not the time to feel guilty. It was either her or Sachiro. Her or his son. Gojou decided to pull his arm away gently, his gaze distant. “Sachiro needs me, Akemi. You know that.”

Akemi’s face fell, but she knew it would be ridiculous to argue over that. “No, I understand. I get that. I want you to focus on Sachi, too. I just wish—” Before she could finish, her voice faltered, and she looked up at him with a hesitant gaze. “Satoru, do you regret that I took you back even if you cheated on me?”

The question caught him off guard, and Satoru’s blue eyes narrowed as he processed her words. He had been so focused on his responsibilities and the immediate crisis that he hadn’t given much thought to their ‘relationship’. All he knew was when he showed up at her doorstep back at the cabin, he was only going to try and end things with her. He was only going to clarify the longstanding feelings you and him poured out to each other that night, which was why he ended up sleeping with his ex-wife. But because Akemi suffered at the time, because her pelvic pain worsened to the point of an emergency, he had to hold back and just take care of her in the weeks that passed. He was caged in this situation like a prisoner who was found guilty for the crimes he had committed.

Just be honest, Satoru. Disregard everything else and just be honest. Satoru believed it was about time he stood his ground no matter the consequences. “You can’t take me back if we’re not together, ‘Kemi,” he breathed out those words, reticent on hurting her with the truth. If she would lash out on him, throw a vase on his head, slam a book on his face—he wouldn’t mind. He was ready to accept all the violence he deserved from being an asshole. “You knew from the start that this, us, was only temporary. It was never supposed to be serious.”

Her expressions turned doleful. “Then, in that case, did you at least…” Tears welled up in her eyes as she she paused, “Did you at least love me?”

“I just… I never saw it that way, Akemi.” Satoru’s honesty would destroy her, but he didn’t want to keep on sending out false hopes. He had to be firm, and while he was grateful for everything she did for him, that doesn’t mean he owed her his life and loyalty. In the first place, he warned her that he wasn’t ready to be in a relationship. And God, he was far from ready to even settle down, yet Akemi constantly hinted at wanting to tie the knot with him. Again and again did she mention the thought of a wedding and a child and her own family.

Satoru wanted all those things too, but with another person in mind. He was only set on having those things with one woman.

Akemi’s face paled upon hearing his answer and the fact that he didn’t even bother to explain himself. “I see. I guess I needed to hear that.”

Gojou looked at her with a mix of regret and sympathy. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry for hurting you like this, I really do.”

“It’s fine. Don’t worry about it.”

It definitely wasn’t fine, but Satoru had to take her word for it as he got out from the couch and gave her a gentle pat on the head. “I have to go. Nanami will be here soon. Please make sure to follow the treatment plan and take care of yourself.”

Akemi nodded, though her gaze remained fixed on the floor, unable to meet his eyes. “Alright. I’ll see him when he gets here.”

As Gojou turned to leave, he felt a pang of guilt twisting deep in his gut but pushed it aside. He was a father first before anything else. Sachiro would always be his first and foremost priority amongst everything else.

——

After leaving Akemi’s place, Satoru was driving his car into the evening air beyond the speed limit. And his mind was racing together with him as he thought of you, your son, and the myriad of emotions he was struggling to manage. He couldn’t wait to be home, not literally at his own place, but anywhere with you and his son was his definition of home.

It would be diabolical for him to run into your arms and yell, ‘I’m free! We can be together again!’ No, that would be cruel and disgusting. He respected Akemi just as he respected you. It was himself that he couldn’t respect, because he was the one responsible for the mess that he created. And adding Sachiro’s critical condition on top of the already festering wounds in your relationship? It truly was the manifestation of karma in his actions.

His footsteps bounced through the hospital corridors the moment he arrived, each impatient step was ready to see your face and tell you he would never leave you and Sachiro now. But as he neared the pediatric ICU, his eyes darted around, the sight of his ex-wife was nowhere to be found. And instinctively, his heart pounded in his chest, and a drum of panic seemed to warn him of a storm that was about to come. Something was off, and it scared him.

“Nurse,” he called out, his voice edged with urgency as he approached their station. “Where’s my wife? The boy’s mother?”

The nurse looked up, recognizing the infamous CEO’s face. “Uh, Mr. Gojou, she was heading to the rooftop, I think.”

“What?!” he unintentionally yelled at her face, “Why didn’t you guys keep an eye on her?”

“Sir, calm down. She’s probably going to get some fresh air.”

A cold chill ran down his spine. You were definitely not there for that.

Without another word, he sprinted towards the stairs, taking them two at a time instead of waiting at an elevator together with a group of people. He had to get to you as soon and as fast as he could without another second to waste. Although the climb felt endless, his mind racing with fear and dread was the push he needed to finally reach you.

And upon bursting through the door to the rooftop, he was met with the soft whisper of the evening wind and the heart-stopping sight of you standing perilously close to the edge.

“Y/N!” he called out, his voice breaking with desperation. “Don’t do this. Please, step back.”

You stood motionless, eyes fixed on the distant horizon, the city lights blurring into a kaleidoscope of sorrow. “The world hates me, Satoru,” you whispered, the mellow tone of your voice carried away by the wind. “I’m a burden to everyone, even my own child. I-I just… I want to end it all.”

“No!” Satoru’s heart shattered at your words while he moved closer, his hands outstretched and careful not to startle or provoke you. He was dying to have you in his arms and keep you safe. “Y/N, please. Come back. What about Sachi? What about me? We need you. Sachiro needs you. I need you.”

What exactly made you go here? How did thoughts of ending yourself suddenly come into fruition? Was there something you discovered that brought you to this ultimatum? Gojou was desperate, utterly desperate, to hear what was running through your mind so that he could at least ease the burden that you were carrying all by yourself. He was once in the position where he wanted to commit too, and he knew the temptation that came with permanently escaping the cruelty of the world in just a single action.

“Y/N, please. Please, I’m begging. Come to me,” he rattled on in a suffocating whisper, the pleading in his voice was heavy, “Please. I love you. Only you.”

It was when you turned around that Gojou’s world collapsed, and the words you said after had shattered his entire universe.

They were still.

You.

And the wind.

“I’m pregnant,” you finally confessed, voice cracking as you looked at the faint tears that fell from Satoru’s eyes. “I don’t wanna have this baby.”

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

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knoxic · 10 months ago

Text

Cycle of Greed

Azriel x Reader | p1 - p2 - p3 - p4 - p5 - p6

summary: Azriel suspects Elain is his mate, reader is ignored, Rhysand and Cass are protective of reader

wc: 2,3k

warnings: Azriel... self hatred, insecurities

a/n: reader's nickname is Ace but there's no physical descriptions

It started subtly, coming home and not noticing her boyfriend's absence, too tired to notice, waking up to a cold and empty bed, brushing past it thinking Az must have been busy, even though he never mentioned anything. The first time you noticed he wasn't, it hit you like a slap to the face.

A family dinner was scheduled tonight, even though you had dinner with your family all the time, tonight was the only night of the month no one was allowed to miss. Rhysand made sure all of you would be free.

You had woken up early today, before the sun had risen, Azriel not being in bed with you didn't seem weird at all, Az often left the bed before the sun was up, he had trouble sleeping and once he woke it was hard to go back to sleep. After spending some time reading in bed you decided to make breakfast, after washing up you went downstairs, expecting to see containers of food left in the sink but there was none, so either Azriel hadn't eaten when he got home or he didn't come home at all. But again, she brushed it off, he probably had a good reason for it.

After eating breakfast, you went to change into your training clothes, just because it was an off day didn't mean you should skip training. Normally, you used a punching bag to literally beat your stress away but today you weren't even stressed, there wasn't even someone to keep you entertained, so training ended up being just boring.

Again, you came back to an empty home, no signs of your boyfriend. After a few minutes of staring at the walls you decided that perhaps a few hours in Velaris would be exciting, maybe you would visit Feyre's gallery. Walking through the streets is definitely a nice thing, the people passing by know who you are and what you do but still gave you friendly smiles. Watching the children play freely and unbothered made you wonder if, someday, your own children would be doing the same, little Illyrians terrorizing the streets of Velaris.

"Hey! Wasn't expecting you here today." Feyre's voice snapped you out of your daydream.

"Well, I'd rather spend hours looking at your paintings than the blank walls at home." You laughed.

"If that's the case then come with me, I just finished a new one." She slipped her arm through yours and pulled you further into the gallery. Fortunately for your boredom, Feyre had kept you busy the whole day, showing you her new artworks and even making you paint with her.

Hours later you were finally coming home, your feet screamed at you to sit down but you refused to winnow, not wanting to miss out on any new place that might have opened. You were so tired that your mind wasn't anywhere near Azriel, fully focused on resting as soon as you reached home. You only realized you had fallen asleep when the front door banged closed, your boyfriend's scent filling your nose.

"Az?" You sat up rubbing your tense neck, the couch, as comfortable as it was, was not meant for sleeping.

"Yeah, didn't know you were here." He seemed confused and... angry?

"Are you okay?" You slowly made your way towards him but he stepped back, turning towards the stairs.

"Fine, I'll go wash up for dinner, don't follow me." And with that he ran up. You took his anger as the result of his work, figuring that something had probably stressed him out.

Your eyes that were still foggy from sleep had finally cleared, allowing you to notice how dark the living room was, it was already night and you had probably slept for a couple hours. When you went up to bathe, you heard a loud bang from your bedroom. Azriel often isolated himself as to not take his anger out on anyone close to him, so you continued walking towards the guest bedroom, washing up in the adjoined bathroom. Only when you were finished did you make your way to your bedroom, the door was fully closed so you opened it carefully, the bathroom door was left open so Azriel was probably downstairs. You dressed up unhurried, taking the time to choose your clothes, fixing your hair and choosing shoes. When you went down, Azriel was nowhere to be seen, you called out to him but received no response, perhaps Rhys had called him?

'Rhys, is Azriel with you?' You asked, praying he would hear you.

'Yes, he said he thought you wouldn't come." Rhys answered, his voice oddly quiet, without its usual confidence. 'Are you two okay?'

'I– Yes? Well, I think so? Did he say anything?' Not once had it crossed your mind that your relationship was the cause of Azriel's stress, were you stressing him? If so, why didn't he say anything?

'Never mind. Are you coming?' Suddenly you weren't sure if you should, maybe Az had gone alone because he didn't want you there. 'Please come...'

Rhys pleaded, scaring you even more. Rhysand never pleaded.

'I don't know,' you were still standing in the middle of the living room, you could just winnow, but would your boyfriend want that? 'Maybe I should stay home tonight–'

'No. It's family dinner, fuck Azriel's dramatic ass, I don't know what's wrong with him but it's not your fault. You're coming, even if I have to go pick you up myself.'

𓂃

"My office, now." Rhysand's growl seemed to vibrate through his bones.

"Rhys–"

"No! Azriel." He walked out of the room, leaving Azriel to stare at his back, Elain kept gazing at him wide eyed. 'Come with me or I'll come to your girl, your choice.' His mind talons not bothering to make a gentle appearance.

Azriel left without looking back, still feeling Elain's gentle gaze following him. His heartbeat ringed in his ear, time seemed to pass by slowly as he walked the corridors to Rhys' office, darkness consuming the corners of every wall. The doors were left open showing his brother's back facing him, as soon as he entered they banged closed, before he said anything, Cassian winnowed beside him.

"What's wrong?" Cassian looked at them both, his hurried voice echoing through the silent room.

"Azriel was kissing Elain." Rhys turned to look at them both, giving Cassian a nod towards Az, his arms crossed against his chest while he leaned against the desk.

"I didn't–"

"You were going to!" Rhysand spat, making Azriel shut his mouth, he couldn't deny it.

"Wait–" Cassian stepped forward, watching as Az lowered his head, gasping when he realized it was true, "No fucking way! Did Ace break up with you?" Azriel's only response was a deep sigh.

"No, she didn't." Rhys answered for him.

"Brother..." Cassian's hand met Az' shoulder, "Why?" He was pissed but needed to know why Azriel was acting like that.

"I think–"

"Huh, you're not even sure." Rhys scoffed, shaking his head.

"I think Elain is my mate."

"What? Az, that's really serious..." Cass spoke softly, almost unsure. "Are you sure?"

"I– No, but it just makes sense!"

"How, Azriel?" Rhysand yelled, stepping closer to him. "How does it make sense? You've known Ace for centuries, been dating her for 80 years, you live with her! I swear I thought you were going to propose to her soon!" His hand met Azriel's sholder, shaking him. Rhys sighed, dropping his head and shoving Az away before turning back to sit on his chair.

"Az," Cassian started, "Does Ace know?"

"No, I don't know how to tell her." Az muttered the last part.

"You'll have to find a way. I don't know why you think Elain is your mate and not her but she deserves to know. Having a mate doesn't necessarily mean you two should be romantically involved, nor should you be anything at all, but it is clear that you're attracted to Elain and that's just... unacceptable."

"Why?" Azriel said exasperated, "Three brothers for three sisters, it just makes sense!" He yelled,banging his hands on Rhysand's desk.

"Are you insane?" Rhys yelled back, standing up from his chair. "You are in a relationship, Azriel! It doesn't matter if it makes sense, be responsible, she's not just a fling you had, you can't push her aside just because your cock gets hard around a pretty female. Ace is your girlfriend, has been for almost a century, the possibility of another female being your mate should not interfere in your relationship with her, it didn't have to. Elain could end up being just a great friend, or even better, Ace could be your mate..."

"If she was my mate, don't you think it would've snapped by now?" Azriel's question didn't really sound like a question.

"Is that all you heard from everything Rhys said?" Cassian looked incredulous.

"Azriel..." Rhysand's patient was slipping away. "I do not know what to say to make you understand–"

"There's nothing to understand, Elain is my mate and I want to be with her."

"Then fucking break up with Ace first!" Darkness crawling their way around them.

"What the fuck, brother?" Cassian yelled, for the first time that morning. "Didn't you learn anything from Mor leading you on all those centuries? You want to be with Elain? Fine, but break up with your girlfriend first. Just know that there's a lot in line here..." Silence enveloped the three of them, tension sitting heavy on their shoulders.

"Leave, go talk to Ace and fix this shit," Rhysand rubbed his temples, "Don't do to her what has been done to you."

𓂃

Azriel spent a few hours flying above Velaris, trying to forget about what had happened, he didn't know what he did wrong or why Rhysand was so upset. He decided to come back and talk with Elain first, then he'd talk with you, but Rhysand's talons scratched his mind walls as soon as he saw her, telling him to stay away from her until he broke up with you. When he got home he was so upset that you were the only thing keeping him from his possible mate, that when he saw you, he would definitely take his anger out on you. You were so relaxed and he was completely the opposite of that, your eyes puffy from sleep while his were bloodshot from the lack of it.

He couldn't stop the sudden hatred that consumed him at hearing your voice, he wasn't sure if it was directed at you or him, he spend the whole day resenting you while you were here worried about him. He couldn't stand the sound of your comforting voice, not while comparing it to Elain's, your eyes searching for his with so much love and he wondered when was the last time he really stared into them.

So he ignored you, he wasn't sure what he had answered you, his whole body aching with stress that he just wanted some form of release. Release that never came, he thought that by the time he finished bathing he'd feel better, but he didn't. Nothing seemed to work, the warm water did nothing to help soothe his muscles, and no matter how much he scratched, he still felt dirty.

Stepping out of the bathroom only angered him further, your scent still lingered even after hours of leaving the bed. Azriel didn't know what he'd do if you talked to him again, didn't know what he'd tell you, if he lied you would know, and if he didn't... you would be hurt.

𓂃

As soon as your eyes focused on the house, you wanted to winnow back home, but Rhys didn't give you a chance to do so. The front door being yanked open made you tear your eyes from the window, where you could see silhouette with wings, the smile your High Lord greeted you with was comforting. He was loyal to his brothers, if you had done something to upset Azriel, he wouldn't be smiling at you like that.

"You came!" He waved his hand, calling you inside.

"Someone threatened me." He laughed at your attempted joke, no humor filling your voice. As you walked closer to him, he pulled you into a hug, it didn't really seem like it was for you, his chin rested on your shoulder like you weren't almost half his size, it was comforting nonetheless. An exaggerated gasp pulled you away from each other's embrace.

"That's like the worse form of betrayal!" Cassian cried out, his hand that was resting on his chest reached out to push Rhysand away. "We could've had a family hug but you were selfish." His strong arms engulfing you into an embrace, lifting you off the ground, he let out a dramatic groan as if it had taken him so much effort to do so.

"Stop it, you're going to squeeze her." Rhys laughed, tapping his brothers shoulder.

"Jealous." Cassian whispered in your ear, making you giggle.

By the time Cassian set you back down, you had forgotten you were worried, if that was Rhysand's intention when he came to greet you at the door, it had worked. You were pulled inside by the hand, Cass gushing about all the things there were for dinner, his groovy voice muffling out a female giggle. The table was set only a few minutes after Cassian had sat her down, his conversation topics never ending. The first time she saw Azriel, he was coming out of the kitchen, right after Elain.

"She needed help with the dessert." Nesta muttered, her voice filled with something she couldn't exactly place. She couldn't dwell on it further, Azriel was looking at her now, his feet glued to the ground. It was clear he really wasn't expecting her to come.

#azriel acotar #azriel spymaster #azriel shadowsinger #azriel #azriel x reader #azriel fanfic #azriel fic #azriel x you #⛓️࿐𝐜𝐲𝐜𝐥𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐝

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hellfire--cult · 3 months ago

Text

Steddie x Reader

wc: 8.2k

+18 fluff, eddie and steve are a musical duo, reader being a fan and a bit self conscious, some angst, but fluff overall, smut, p in v, oral (f receiving), threesome

Summary: Your favorite duo was in town for a few days. You had seen them a million times, yet you never had the opportunity to meet them. But a fateful morning, that happens, and you weren't prepared for it.

a/n: idk what came over me, this is filthy, and completely delulu, but something about eddie and steve being a gay duo did something to me. this was barely proofread, also i forgot to put the title in the picture, but idc

Please reblog, don't just like.

It was a bright Monday morning.

You looked up at your ceiling as you slowly started opening your eyes, the drowsiness of the night falling away as you center yourself a bit more. Then you looked to the side. The poster of your favorite duo, The Outcasts.

Steve Harrington, the singer and acoustic guitar player smiled charmingly at the camera while Eddie Munson, the one who does screamo and plays the electric guitar, pulled the bottom eyelid of his left eye down and stuck his tongue out. The contrast of the two was what made you fall completely in love with them.

Supposedly, they have known each other since high school, and they honestly didn’t like one another. It made sense to look at Steve and see him as popular, while Eddie looked like the weird one. But then Steve’s story came out, how he was basically abandoned by his family. Eddie was an outcast to society, while Steve was an outcast of his own family.

You didn’t know which one hurt the most.

But the rumor that stuck the most to you, was that people were saying they were dating. They never confirmed it, but on stage they do some teasing about almost kissing, or Eddie would slap Steve’s ass, while Steve would kiss Eddie’s shoulder from behind. You had been to many of their concerts, and you were always in awe with them.

You were a little more than obsessed. You had watched every video, every BTS, every interview, every old video from their school days, researched them, bought their merchandise, and you were wishing on the day you would be able to meet them. Tell them how their music saved you.

You snapped out of your daydream, your mom yelling your name to come downstairs. You frowned a bit, got up from the bed, and stretched. Your back cracked and you winced slightly at the sound. You needed a chiropractor at this point. You always sleep in weird positions, and you don't really know how to correct it.

You stood up, getting your slippers on, and walked out of your room, scratching your head. You walked down the stairs only for your mother to be standing right in the foyer, her arms crossed, a glare in her eyes. You were confused at her demeanor. You knew your mother was temperamental, but you hadn’t done anything, not that you could think about, to make her this angry towards you.

“Mom? What’s wrong?” You finally reached the bottom of the stairs to look at her, and then your heart skipped a beat when her gaze turned even darker.

“You’ve been a hustle to maintain. All this time, you’ve been eating my savings away, with high school, your trips, wanting to go to college. Where do you think I can get the money for your stupid college?” You tilted your head, not understanding where she was going with this, not having ever received a complaint from your mother about money. She had been acting weird lately, but you assumed it was because of the divorce with your father.

“What are you talking about? This is the first time I’m hearing about this!” You complained and then froze, a cold sweat invading your entire body when your mother let out a wicked grin your way.

“But I solved it. You see, I sold you online.”

“What?”

“You now no longer belong to me. I bet they will make you a slave. I didn’t even met them, but they offered so much money for someone like you. It was hard to resist.”

The doorbell rang, and you were frozen in the ground as your mother opened the door, only to reveal the beautiful duo you had been a fan of for a long time. Steve Harrington and Eddie Munson stood there, and you gasped, holding your chest in surprise.

“Hello beautiful.” Steve said and you couldn’t believe it. Eddie immediately pulled you in by your petite minuscule ant like waist with an hourglass shape that could outmatch Nicki Minaj, your long wavy blonde voluminous and gigantic filled with secrets hair moving from side to side as he pulled you close.

“You two want me?” Your voice small and sweet, filled with pureness, your eyes shining like blazing diamonds.

“Of course, you’re so beautiful, and now you’re ours. We’re gonna marry you instantly, and we will make sure you live a happy life with us.” Steve said and you gasped when he instantly kissed your plump juicy natural looking pink lips, and you knew you were in love with them. You have always been.

“We fell in love with you at first sight on that post your mother made.” Eddie said and when Steve pulled away, he kissed you as well. Their bigger bodies wrapping all around you, making you feel like a little bug that they could squish.

“I love you both.” You confess when you pull away, your heart soaring into the sky. But they know a secret you don’t, another reason they bought you. They want you to know you were adopted by your mother, because…

You are also a lost princess from a city that no longer exists. Atlantis.

Your new life starts here.

happy april fools

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie x reader #steddie x fem!reader #steddie fanfiction #stranger things #stranger things fanfiction #steddie fluff #steddie smut #steddie fanfic #steddie fic #steddie imagine

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arminsumi · 2 years ago

Note

First request ever: Can you make a story about Gojo, where their both in a relationship but gojo had to end it because he was afraid that she would be in danger?

Thank you! Keep up the good work, I love your stories!!!

LET ME MARRY YOU

↳ GOJO ��とる + fem!reader

The risk of dating you his too much for him to handle, so he breaks it off, only for him to come back to your doorstep years later and ask: "Let me marry you."

Note : istg each time i edited this... the wordcount grew lol. i hope u enjoyyy 🥹💗 tysm for enjoying my work it means everything

Warnings : angst -> fluff (?) -> happy ending trust me, Shibuya arc spoilers (Ep 9), manga spoilers (chapter 221)

🍒 More from Jay : Gojo works / Gojo fave works / JJK works / oct. reqs open

The risk of dating you is thrilling when Satoru's just a teenager in puppy love. But as he grows older, and heads into those dreaded 20s, the risk makes him more and more nervous.

What if something happens to you?

He presses kiss after kiss to your forehead and feels his chest tremble, feels his lips quiver, as he refrains from telling you the truth about the Jujutsu world. Satoru just can't do it.

There are so many instances of him saving you from curses that you're oblivious about. He just smiles strangely, and you wonder why he looks like he's just seen a ghost. Because he has, those pretty eyes see ghosts. But those pretty eyes also see you, "What am I looking at?" he responds after you ask why he's looking at you so tenderly, "I'm looking at my future wife." he flirts just to fluster you.

That's at the cafe, when things are still simple. He keeps thinking to himself, as he lays with you in bed some nights;

I want to marry you.

I'm going to marry you.

Please let me be your husband one day.

As if he's trying to manifest it.

Everything is okay-ish... until he gets pangs of fright when your name starts to be known outside of his closed circle of friends.

It's October 11th.

Gojo Satoru breaks up with you.

He leads you to believe that the two of you are just "right person, wrong time". It all hurts an incomprehensible amount for him, to finally cut the string that tethers the two of you together.

He sits on the stairs, head in his hands, mourning.

He starts many mornings with crying spells that last until midday.

He destroys evidence of you and him. In case anyone ever finds it and thus finds your apartment, or work, or college... or anything.

But he can't part with a very special photo. It's you and him in Okinawa, sharing a cheesy kiss at the beach. In the moment this photo was captured, Gojo remembers having whispered some dirty joke in your ear and that's why you smiled so big into his kiss.

He drifts to sleep to the lullaby lovesongs that defined your love.

Years pass, he refuses to even talk to you. The heartbreak worsens with time, he laughs when he realizes that on his 27th birthday.

Isn't time supposed to heal all wounds? Someone said that to him once. Well, they must have been lying without realizing it.

The day Gojo Satoru is sealed, he looks into Suguru's eyes, and remembers you through them. When he resides in that awful prison realm, he only thinks of you you you you you you you oh god he misses you so much that it feels like the very thought of your smile stabs his chest. Every memory is painful. Every flashback puts one more crack in his heart.

"Can't I ever catch a break...?" He laughs to himself, chattering skeletons making their eerie symphony around him.

He thinks. Ponders. Wonders. Broods. Daydreams. All about you. Always about you. Never anything else. Just his first love, from the late spring of his 17th year.

His earthly goddess.

The purpose of his benevolent actions.

He cries. And sobs. And weeps. Because no one can hear him but the skeletons and he's sure they don't mind the sight or sound of a 27 man howling in pain over a lost lover.

It's not just your relationship that he's mourning. But the fact he can't feel you in this cube... that he can't feel your presence in the world... that's worse than the heartbreak. At least through all these years, he's been able to sense your existence. Feel the subtle ripples of your soul no matter how distant you are; you'd be stood in a coffee shop, he'd be at Jujutsu High teaching, and yet feeling you.

Because as he promised to you at 17, "Half my soul is yours. And half your soul is mine. I'll always be with you even if I'm not there."

He has the biggest breakdown of his life in that little cramped suffocating claustrophobic eerie creepy box.

It's 19 days later. He's out. He's back in the world. And he feels the sense of you, your existence, swelling in his chest, tickling his mind, prodding his heart.

"Gojo sensei, where are you headed?"

"I'm gonna go find my other half." he says cryptically.

It's a stark bright day.

Gojo Satoru knocks at your apartment door.

You open it.

He looks at you, and you look at him.

"Hi."

"...hey...? Wow. Haha... you grew into your features, huh?"

Your voice fills his heart with life.

"You too... glad you still live in the same place... I was worried you might have moved out..."

"... Ah, Satoru, you'd be able to find me no matter what corner of the world I resided in."

Your laugh fills his mind with pleasant memories.

There's an a magnetism between you and him just like there always used to be. It feels like two magnets connecting at last, after feeling the distant attraction throughout all these years of distance.

"You're right." Satoru says after a silence of just staring into your eyes.

"I'll always find my way home."

A silence ensues after he says this.

"...haha... don't cry... or I'll cry..."

"... Satoru... I thought of you every day after you left me at the station."

"... me too."

"... why did you leave?"

He stares at you.

"... I was scared of you being in danger."

He gulps.

"Me? In danger? But you're the strongest, why would it matter."

Oh god that's right. You said it then when you were 17, "You're the strongest" and he carried that title with him from then. And now you've said it again. He's reminded. He feels a bit stupid. A bit ridiculous. A bit...

"You're right..." he chokes up. "I am. I could have protected you I guess..."

"... yeah, duh."

He smiles meekly.

It was more complicated than that, sweetheart. But I won't tell you.

He hesitates. He contemplates.

"I have to tell you everything... will you promise to believe everything I say even if it sounds insane?"

"Of course. What is it?"

He inhales deeply. And instead of blurting out his whole life story of being a sorcerer in the Jujutsu world, he just leans in and kisses you hard and truthfully. Cups your cheeks. Closes his eyes. Tastes you like a sweet from his childhood that he hasn't had for years. Presses to you. Takes in your scent.

Yeah yeah... he'll tell you everything in a minute.

But for now just let him kiss you until he runs out of breath.

Let him just...

"Hey..." he pulls away, gasping, "Let me marry you."

"Haha, Satoru..." you take it as a joke and laugh, because it sounds as bizarre and unexpected as one. Then you realize there's that serious look on his face. "... Satoru?"

"Can I?"

"... what?"

"Can I please?"

"... huh??"

"Can I marry you, please?"

He looks at you and waits for your answer. His poor heart. It's palpitating. His whole chest cavity inspires with love for you. This man that you haven't seen in years has just asked if you'll let him marry you — with very specific wording.

Can he? Will you let him?

It's funny in a way, because you think to yourself; this is such a Satoru thing to do... show up unannounced years later on your doorstep and ask for your hand in marriage as if no time has passed, as if you know the full story.

"Satoru... what happened to you throughout these years for you to come back to me and ask for my hand in marriage?" you ask, genuinely baffled.

He swallows slowly. "I know I sound like I've lost my mind. But I promise I haven't."

"That's hard to believe. The Satoru I remember was always on the brink of mania. A bit insane but not quite."

You make him laugh. "Yeah..."

"So are you asking to marry me out of insanity?"

"No."

"Well alright then. I guess I'll marry you."

You make him laugh again, with that funny tone. He hasn't laughed genuinely in years... it's always been that plastic laugh. But this is his genuine laugh. Silky and quiet. The opposite of his demeanor.

"I guess I should be explaining everything to you properly... before I ask you something like that."

"You're damn right..."

"... don't scold me too hard when I tell you all the reasons I left. Or, if you do, then at least hold me while you scold me. And run your fingers through my hair like you used to."

"Satoru."

"Yes?"

His heart throbs. He looks at you.

"Stop standing at the doorway and come inside."

"Oh."

You sigh. He smiles. Then he bows his head so it doesn't hit the top of the doorframe. Damn tiny Tokyo apartments. Your archway always had it out for the crown of his head. You laugh when he bumps into it just like he always used to.

So the two of you sit down and just talk. And talk. Maybe cry a bit. Actually, you cry a lot. And he holds you. And he says he's sorry. He says sorry over and over, as if the word is a bandage he's trying to wrap around all your heartbreak wounds that he caused.

"I'm sorry."

Satoru's apologies aren't easy to come by, and when you receive them, they nurse your heart. It's the gentleness with which he says it, and earnest too. Each successive sorry means more than the last.

"My angel..."

When you call him this after he vents to you about his time in the Prison Realm, and his overwhelming duty of being the strongest, he breaks down completely and just weeps in your arms.

He sobs like you've never heard him sob before, like a dog.

Finally. At least for a moment. He could be weak. Let down his guard. Be raw. Be emotional. Not a teacher. Not a sorcerer. Just your boy. Your Satoru.

Your consolation is all he wanted throughout these years. He looks up at you, eyes red and sore, nose sniffling, and stares at you like he can see your soul.

"...Satoru?"

"Marry me."

You chuckle again.

"If that will stop your tears..." you joke.

He sniffles loudly and swallows, composing himself.

"I thought about marrying you so much when we were together... 'n I tried so hard to bite my tongue when your name nearly rolled off it while talking to my students some days. I was always..."

On the verge of saying your name.

He sniffles long and hard and waits for your hand to weave into his hair.

"Will you think about it?"

"I will."

There's a silence. Satoru feels hopeful. He lays on your chest, arms around you like you're his whole world that he won't dare let go of again.

"There." you say with finality. "I thought about it. Let's get married."

"That took you, like, ten seconds."

You laugh with him. "Yeah... I already knew in my heart when you asked me at the doorway... you know... Satoru... it's funny. When you left, it felt like half my soul was gone. And when you knocked on my doorstep, it felt like I was whole again. Does that sound freaky, or does it tie into all this... Juju... Jujutsu stuff?"

He's silent.

"I have no idea."

"Wow. My future husband isn't knowledgeable at all." you joke.

His heart flutters at 'future husband'.

"Sorry." he says, smiling softly, "My mind is blank when your fingers are running through my hair."

The two of you go on and on, until you're laid in bed sleeping at each other's side. Resting. And god, did Gojo Satoru need a good rest.

In your arms, he's no longer an insomniac.

Do not plagiarize / repost / translate / copy layouts / etc.

Do not steal what I've worked hard to create.

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ramp-it-up · 4 months ago

Text

Ties That Bind

Peach VII | Show Off

Summary: Steve and Peach have thier first fight as newlyweds.

Pairing: Art Dealer (Mob Boss) Steve Rogers x Dancer!Reader (Peach)

A/N: Not sure If I am correct about any element of shibari, but I tried. Really nervous. This fic is a Peach Fic and is connected to the Bucky Barnes Knock You Down AU, and comes after the events in Peach VII. Interaction is life! Let me know if you like it by commenting and reblogging.

Warnings: 18+ Only, Minors DNI. SMUT. Read at your own risk. Subari (I tried ) Peach Peaching, Steve is angry and scared, first fight. Allusions to violence, talk of pregnancy, mistaken identity, veiled threats. Trust is a major theme. Rope play, dominance, submission, oral, (f and m receiving), nipple play, spit play, ass play, reference to anal, rough, raw p in v, sensory overload, breeding kink, 'lil bit of knife play, aftercare.

I don't have a taglist. Please follow @rampitupandread and turn on notifications to learn when I post! 😘

I Do NOT Consent to my work being reposted, translated or presented on any other blog or site other than by myself.

--------

You woke up before dawn, Steve’s arm draped over your waist and pulling you to him, his warmth wrapping around you and forming a secure cocoon.

You smiled as you gazed at his sleeping face, lightly brushing back the dark blond hair that had fallen over his face.

You were still tripping over the fact that you were Mrs. Steve Rogers.

He made you very happy.

These past few weeks were a wonderful whirlwind of love and affection. Steve was consistently attentive to you and gave you anything you wanted.

And he was square with you about the realities of his life.

He, Bucky, Nat and Sam had made a lot of money, not only for themselves, but for the people they’d done business with. And some people were angry that it was over.

You heard that, but you didn’t listen.

And you’d left lots of loose ends in Atlanta.

There was Peach Preserves, your dance studio, and your students to think about. This was the preparation week for classes to begin again after the holidays, and you weren’t there to do your work.

Dance was your first love, and you didn’t want to give that up. Steve didn’t want you to either, he just wanted you to hire help and work out a schedule where you could have time together as a couple.

And then there was the question of where you would live, Atlanta or New York.

You were antsy to get back to Atlanta, but Steve wanted you to wait a couple of days longer to go down.

He’d distracted you the night before with some stunning cunnilingus, and a thorough rough fucking that you could still feel as you shifted in the bed.

You bit your lip and smiled wider.

Being Mrs. Rogers had its benefits: Steve’s thick, stiff cock was top three. And it was always ready for you. That helped because you always wanted it. But he couldn’t distract you with that for long.

You were bound and determined that you were grown and that you could handle going to Atlanta by yourself. After all, it had been your city for almost 10 years before he came along.

It would be fine. And today was the day.

Before you escaped the bed, you let yourself revel in the warmth of Steve’s arms, daydreaming about letting him wake up, pull you close, press a kiss to your shoulder, and convince you, yet again, that waiting a little longer wouldn’t hurt.

It would be easy to just go with his flow. But you were you. You loved doing things the hard way.

You slipped from under his arm, moving slowly and carefully, barely breathing. Steve stirred but didn't wake.

Breathing a small sigh of relief, you dressed quickly. Your bag was already packed, tucked behind the closet door. You grabbed it, hesitating for only a second before leaving a note on the nightstand.

I’ll call you when I land. Love you.-- Your Peach

The rideshare to the airport was quiet, but your thoughts weren’t. You knew Steve would be upset when he woke up.

----

Steve reached out, fingers brushing the cool sheets where you should have been. His chest tightened before he even opened his eyes. He knew something was off.

He swung his legs over the edge of the bed and sat, scanning the room. Maybe you were making breakfast, or in the dance studio, but before he could go see if you were there, his eyes settled on the nightstand, and there it was.

A small piece of folded paper.

His heart thudded as he picked it up, unfolding it with fingers that suddenly felt too stiff as he read it.

Steve exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair. Atlanta. You went. Even after everything you talked about, after he told you to wait, after he swore he’d go with you.

A slow burn of frustration and worry curled in his stomach. That feeling was rare before he met you. But then again, all feelings were rare before he met you.

Steve shook his head.

You thought you’d be fine. Of course, you did. That was just who you were, stubborn, independent. And that was why he loved you. But you didn’t know the danger, not like he did.

His jaw clenched as he reached for his phone. His fingers flew over his phone’s keyboard, and he took deep breaths to calm down. Then he went to his closet.

He needed to get to Atlanta.

-----

The second your plane landed in Atlanta, and you turned off airplane mode, your phone buzzed.

You really think you can just run off like that?

The message was from hours ago, when you were in the air. You exhaled slowly, gripping your phone as you replied.

I had to.

Almost immediately, three dots appeared. Stopped. And then appeared again.

You should’ve waited for me, Peach.

You closed your eyes. You could hear his voice in the words, low and growly. You loved him, but you weren’t quite willing to give up all of your spirit and independence.

The studio needs me.

A full minute passed. You didn’t move, despite others around you getting ready to deboard the plane.

I know that. But I need you to trust me. I need to be able to trust you. I need you to be with me, present in this marriage. Need you to be safe.

Shit, Peach, I just need you.

Your stomach was in knots. You didn’t have an answer to that. So you just said the only thing you could.

I love you.

The dots again

Love you, too. But this discussion isn’t over.

Your heart started beating fast because you knew that he was coming for you. You knew he would never, ever hurt you, but you were filled with anxiety for what was going to happen when you saw him again.

You locked your phone and got ready to walk off the plane, your heart pounding.

—--

The sun was setting by the time you pulled up to your townhouse, exhaustion weighing heavy in your bones. The day was long, checking in on your students, arranging for instructors and making sure the studio could run with you there day to day for a while.

You should have felt relieved.

Instead, all you felt was restless. You missed your husband. Steve hadn’t texted again since you landed this morning.

You stepped onto the porch of your place, fishing your keys from your bag, when the hairs on the back of your neck rose.

That familiar tingle was there, the extra sense that alerted you to danger back when late nights at Regine meant dealing with more than just drunk men and bad tips.

Someone was watching you.

“Well, well, well.”

You froze, fingers tightening around your keys. You knew that voice.

You turned around slowly to find Sully leaning against his car at the curb, arms crossed and a smirk twisting his mouth.

He looked the same as he did the last time you saw him, right before Steve forced him out of Regine. But there was something different in his eyes now.

Your stomach flipped, but you kept your face neutral.

“Sully.”

He pushed off the car, walking toward you with slow, deliberate steps.

“Heard you and Grant, or should I say Steve, took a little honeymoon.”

His eyes dropped to your stomach, then back up to your face.

“Didn’t take long for him to knock you up, huh?”

You didn't flinch or react at all, although you were confused.

“Now that you know who he is, you can probably guess that Steve wouldn’t take kindly to people showing up at his wife’s place uninvited.”

You hoped that Steve was really coming.

Sully laughed, a hollow sound.

“Is that so?”

He tilted his head, watching you like he was trying to figure out how much of a fight you’d put up. He should’ve known from seeing you scrap a couple of times at the club.

“See, I think Steve’s real good at running his mouth. All talk and no action. He let you come back here. Alone.”

You wanted to laugh out loud. Let this asshole fuck around and find out with Steve Rogers.

“What do you want, Sully?”

You kept your voice calm and controlled.

His smile faded.

“I want what I’m owed.”

You rolled your eyes.

“What are you even talking about, Sully?”

He stepped closer to you, and you didn't back away.

“You and that attitude, Peach. ‘S gonna get you hurt one day. I think you know exactly what I’m talking about. Your husband put me out on my ass, and now, I’m gonna return the favor.”

His lips curled as his eyes swept down your body again.

“And since you’re carrying the next little Rogers/Barnes/Romanoff/Wilson prince or whatever, that makes you real valuable.”

Your blood ran cold. That’s what this was. Sully thought you were pregnant. He had you confused with your cousin. He thought you were pregnant and that was why you and Steve eloped.

Idiot.

You weren’t about to set him straight and put your family in danger. Your fingers tightened around your phone, and you forced yourself to breathe evenly.

“Sully, you’re making a mistake. Whatever you think you’re doing? It’s not worth what Steve will do to you.”

He stared at you menacingly for a long moment, like he was waiting for you to break. But he was going to have to wait a long time for that. You held his gaze.

Steadily.

Then, slowly, he smirked.

“We’ll see about that.”

He turned and walked back to his car. You didn’t move until the taillights disappeared down the street. Then, with shaking hands, you pulled out your phone and typed.

Sully was here.

The read receipt popped up immediately. Steve always had them on for you.

Stay inside. Lock the doors. I’m almost there.

—-

The traffic around him inched forward at a crawl, horns blaring. Steve swore under his breath, his pulse hammering. He needed to move. Needed to get to you. But he was trapped, locked in place.

You were okay, you’d just texted him, but he was beyond frustrated. He slammed his palm against the steering wheel, frustration boiling over. Every second wasted in this damn traffic was another second Sully could come back.

His mind raced through every possibility. He should’ve been there. Should’ve made you wait.

He should have tied you to the bed.

A gap opened up in traffic. Steve hit the gas, weaving between cars, eyes locked on the road ahead. He was coming. And if Sully was still anywhere near you…

-----

Ten minutes later, the knock at the door was heavy and deliberate. You don’t even have to check, you knew it was your husband.

Still, you hesitated, but not really out of fear. It was more like anticipation. You exhaled, steadying yourself, and unlocked the door.

Steve was standing there, his broad shoulders tight, and his jaw set like he’d been grinding his teeth the entire time you’d been apart. There was a backpack slung over one arm and his eyes flicked over you, scanning, searching to make sure you were okay.

The second he saw that you were fine, something else surfaced in his gaze.

----

The door opened and relief hit him first, because you were there, standing right in front of him, whole and unharmed. But the relief crashed straight into the anger, the frustration, and the fear that had been eating at him the whole morning.

He was still struggling under the weight of every worst-case scenario still running through his brain.

Still, despite everything, when Steve’s eyes locked onto yours, he couldn’t deny that he was a simp because all he wanted to do was to take you in his arms. But something had to change.

Because at the end of the day, you’re his.

You were standing in front of him, looking at him like you knew exactly what he was feeling. And that was the only thing keeping him from going nuclear.

----

You knew Steve was angry.

And it made you weak, wanting to supplicate for him and beg for forgiveness around his cock. But of course you resisted that urge and chucked your chin higher.

Steve never felt so angry and so grateful at the same time. But then he saw the glint in your eye and shook his head, almost wanting to laugh.

This is what it was going to be like married to someone as stubborn as he was.

He stepped inside without a word, closing the door behind him. The space between you crackled like a live wire.

“Tell me what the fuck happened.”

You crossed your arms and cocked your hip meeting his stare head-on. Steve was angry and hard, ready to fuck you into submission.

But first he needed answers. You told him what happened, including the most important part.

“Sully thinks I’m pregnant.”

Steve’s entire body went rigid. His hands clenched into fists at his sides, and for a second, he didn't say anything.

Sully was threatening his family?

For half a second, the blood rushed in his ears as the adrenaline flooded his senses, and he had the urge to tear something apart. He had to consciously slow his breathing to keep from running out of the door after Sully.

“He what?”

“He thinks that’s why we eloped,” you said, keeping your voice steady.

Steve turned away for a second, dragging a hand down his face like he was trying to keep himself from exploding. It didn’t work.

“He came here,” he turned back to you, eyes flashing, voice barely controlled.

“Because he thought you were carrying my kid?”

You nodded.

He stared at you before stepping closer. You were looking up at him, breathing his air, looking into those l blue eyes, with everything on you that could get erect standing at attention. This was going to be your first fight.

And what a fight it was.

“And you didn’t think to tell me the second it happened?”

“I did–”

“Not after, Peach," he interrupted.

“Not when he was already gone. When he was here. When you were standing face-to-face with the sonofabitch who threatened what was mine?”

“Steve, I handled it.”

“Oh. You handled it.”

His hands raised to the sky and then raked through his hair, wild with frustration.

“You think telling a man like Sully to fuck off is handling it?”

“I think if I’d called you while he was still here, you’d be dealing with a murder charge right now,” you snapped back.

Steve stared you down and you didn’t break eye contact. Neither did he. The air between you was thick, buzzing, and charged with frustration. You longed to put your arms around his neck and turn back time to the chalet.

But the honeymoon was over.

Finally Steve took a slow breath.

“Sully needs to understand that he doesn’t threaten my family. Or his threat needs to be eliminated.”

Steve pulled out his phone without another word, already dialing. He paced the living room as it rang, muscles still wound tight. You watched him, fighting the urge to touch him.

His eyes were on you the entire time.

“You should’ve waited for me,” he said suddenly, voice quieter, but still railing, his anger simmering all over him.

You exhaled, leaning against the table.

“I know.”

He shook his head, not looking at you. His free hand gripped the back of his neck like he was trying to keep himself grounded. The call connected.

“Buck,” he said, his voice deadly calm.

“We’ve got a problem.”

—--

Steve hung up the call with Bucky, his grip on the phone so tight you half expected it to snap in his hand. His jaw was clenched, his breathing measured, like he was barely keeping himself in check.

“What did he say?” you asked carefully.

“He’s on his way to get her now. Said he’d call me once they’re somewhere safe.”

Steve finally looked at you, and the intensity in his eyes made your stomach flip.

“I should’ve been here.”

You crossed your arms, lifting your chin.

“And what? Sully shows up, you do whatever mafia thing you do, or worse, he does something to you and now we’ve got a problem and if you get killed or go to jail now, Steve Rogers, I will murder you.”

Steve moved closer to you, the space between you shrinking.

“The problem is that you were alone. I wasn’t here to protect you. That is my one job in this life.”

You cocked your head and smiled at him, your heart wrenching.

“Baby. That is not your one job in life. You do lots of good work in the art world, with Rebirth…I can take care of myself, Steve.”

His jaw ticked.

“That’s not the point.”

“What is the point, then?” You held your ground. “Because as far as I can tell, I handled it.”

Suddenly, Steve moved, and although you expected him to come for you, he stepped past you, toward the door, his voice low and sharp.

“I’m going to find him.”

Your reaction was immediate.

“Steve, don’t!”

He stopped at the door, his hand on the knob, thinking about tracking Sully down, and putting an end to this permanently.

“He came to this house. He threatened you. That is never going to happen again, Peach.

Steve's anger was controlled. Focused.

You stepped closer, and he could sense your strength, the kind of strength that always had the power to stop him in his tracks.

“Steve, I get it. I do. But you just got out of the life. You wanted out.”

He turned his head slightly, jaw tight.

“I did. Because of you.”

The weight of that settled between you.

Steve could feel the pull, the fine line between who he was now and who he used to be. The life he swore he left behind was still there, still waiting for him to step back into it.

“Steve, Sully wants you to go back to that. You gonna let him win?”

Your fingers curled lightly around his wrist, grounding him, but he didn’t move for a moment. Then, his fingers relaxed on the doorknob. The storm inside him didn’t disappear; it shifted.

His priorities realigned. He chose you over his rage. Always.

You two needed to work this out. Immediately.

You let out a breath, but you both knew this wasn’t over. He took your hand, rubbing his thumb over your skin, watching the way your eyes flickered with wariness.

“Come with me. I’ve got something to show you.”

—-

Steve led you to the bedroom with slow, deliberate steps, picking up his backpack along the way. His grip on your hand was firm, to keep you close.

When the door shut behind you, he turned, those clear blue eyes searching yours, a mixture of anger and something deeper. You were so damn nervous.

Who was this man before you with this dangerous look on his face that was pointed at you?

“You don’t listen, Peach." Steve was willing you to understand. “You think you have to handle everything alone.”

You lifted your chin, defiant as ever.

“I can handle myself.”

Steve let out a slow breath, a smile tugging at the corner of hisn mouth. He stepped closer, his thumb brushing your lips.

“I know very well that you can,” he admitted. “But, baby, you don’t have to. Not with me.”

Your breath caught, as his hand slid to your neck, fingers threading through to your nape as he tilted your head back, forcing you to hold his gaze.

“I love you,” he said, and it made your stomach flutter. “And I won’t ever stand by while you put yourself at risk.”

The look in his eyes was molten blue.

“If Sully hadn’t left,” Steve continued, his voice rough with emotion, “if he’d put his hands on you… what would you have done?”

You swallowed hard.

“I would’ve taken care of it,” you whispered.

Steve hummed, like he wasn’t quite convinced.

“You’re not invincible, Peach,” his voice was softer now. “And you don’t get to decide when I protect what’s mine.”

The way he said 'mine' sent heat curling low in your stomach and moisture pooling between your thighs. His lips brushed your forehead, lingering there, and your chest tightened at the sheer devotion in the act.

Then he turned, reaching for the bag. When he faced you again, a length of smooth, ivory rope was coiled in his hands. Your stomach flipped and your heart started racing.

“Do you think you can just do whatever you want?”

You held your breath as he uncoiled the rope, and you watched his fingers working it with practiced ease.

“Steve,” you whispered. “I’m sorry. Is there anything I can do to make it up to you?”

His jaw flexed. His fingers paused on the rope. And then, slowly, he lifted his eyes to yours.

“Yes, I want you to trust me.”

You blinked up at him.

“I do trust you.”

Steve almost believed you as he looked down into your beautiful eyes. But then he shook his head.

“You didn’t this morning,” he said quietly. “You left without telling me. I need you to prove that you trust me to take care of you.”

“What do you mean?”

Steve stepped closer, jaw set.

“You’re scaring me,” you admitted, voice barely above a whisper.

You searched his face for meaning and he gave you nothing. Butterflies rioted in your stomach as he moved behind you and his lips touched the edge of your ear.

“Good. You’ll cum harder that way.”

You gasped as your cunt clenched. You couldn’t have heard him correctly.

“I’ll what?”

“I need to remind you what it feels like to let someone else be in control.”

He slid his hand up your arm and turned your head so you could look at him.

“You gonna let me?”

It wasn’t really a question. But he waited for your answer anyway, his gaze steady.

Slowly, you nodded. Steve smiled.

“Good girl.”

You had visions of him inside you right at that very moment, but he interrupted your thoughts.

"Take off your clothes."

The command was quiet, but it left no room for defiance. You complied, the air cool against your skin as you got naked for him, excitement building inside you from the way he watched you.

“You put yourself in danger,” Steve continued, his voice thick with emotion. “And you expect me to just let that slide?”

His stepped behind you and his hands moved over your arms, holding you close against his rock hard body.

“You are my world, Peach.”

He whispered it into your ear and you shuddered.

“Steve…”

“You were reckless with your safety,” he interrupted as his fingers worked the first knot, wrapping the rope around your wrists, securing them just enough for you to feel it, but not to hurt.

Steve worked quickly but precisely, bathing you in tenderness, preparing each area with soft kisses before his ropes made the next pass.

He bound your wrists behind your back, the smooth fibers digging in just enough to make you feel helpless under his control. He moved swiftly, looping the rope around your torso, cinching it tight across your chest, down your waist, framing your curves in a way that made you lose your breath.

You were surprised at how much this turned you on.

“What is this, Steve?” you breathed.

He leaned in, brushing his lips over your temple.

“I'm teaching you how to let go, my love.”

His hands continued their work as he held your gaze, and strangely as he tied your body together, it didn’t feel like a punishment.

It felt like a lesson in trust. And surrender.

Steve stepped back, taking in the sight of you. His eyes darkened with awe.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered, almost to himself.

Your cheeks burned. Your heart pounded. You never felt more vulnerable. Or more seen.

Loved.

He reached out, tilting your chin up with gentle fingers.

“You know I’d never hurt you, right?”

You swallowed hard and nodded and his thumb brushed over your lips.

“Good. Now relax, Baby. I’ve got you.”

You exhaled shakily, easing into the bindings. You felt better now. Safer, somehow.

Steve watched you, his gaze lingering on the way your body softened. His hands slid over the rope, testing its hold and making sure it wasn’t too tight on your satiny skin.

“Kneel for me, Peach.”

The deep baritone of his voice made your pussy clench, but you obeyed, sinking gracefully to the floor. Your breath caught as your knees hit the soft carpet, the vulnerability of the position sinking in.

“Look at me,” he said softly.

You did, and the sheer adoration in his expression made your chest tighten. His fingers skimmed over your bound body, teasing you, sending shivers racing across your body.

“Remember Peach, I’m doing this because I need you to know that you don’t always have to be the strong one.”

His hands moved over your back, tracing the rope, grounding you.

“You’re gonna feel everything I do, and you’re not gonna fight it.”

His eyes locked onto yours and you held his stare.

"...Okay"

Steve chuckled at your spirit. He loved the fuck out of you, but you needed this lesson.

“Good girl.”

Your eyes closed at the praise and he stepped back, his fingers once again skimming over your restrained skin.

“You’re trembling,” he observed, voice tinged with amusement. “Are you nervous?”

You swallowed. “A little.”

“Don’t be.”

He down beside you and leaned in, pressing a lingering kiss to your shoulder, then to the curve of your jaw.

“Steve…,” you whimpered.

“You trust me, right?”

His lips were against yours now.

You exhaled a shaky, “Yes" into his mouth.

“Then let me take care of you.”

He pulled away and his eyes held yours for a long beat, making sure you understood. His hands moved around your rope-bound ass grazing the ropes framing your thighs, the ones holding your pussy lips apart.

You gasped as his fingers brushed against your aching heat.

“You're dripping for me already, Peach. Do you like being tied up?”

You were delirious with anticipation. But you didn’t know how to feel.

“No!.. Yes… I don’t know.”

He got down on his knees behind you as you tested the binds instinctively, your wrists straining just enough to remind you of your helplessness. The pressure was intoxicatingly restrictive and unrelenting.

You didn’t know that you craved this.

A warm hand slid over your stomach, fingers grazing the rope cinched tight around your waist. He pressed in, letting you feel the heat of his palm against your skin and the graze of his fingertips against your clit. Not to mention his hard cock pressed into your spine.

You bit back a moan as he continued, his touch slow and purposeful. Steve’s hand slid to your throat, his grip firm, but not choking.

"You are my wife," he said, enunciating each word with quiet intensity. I am responsible for your safety… and when you forget that?"

His grip tightened for a fraction of a second before releasing and trailing down your neck.

"I will remind you."

He murmured against your ear, his breath making you wetter. His other hand gripped your chin, forcing you to tilt your head back, exposing your throat to him.

"Do you love me?" he asked.

"Yes," you whispered, the answer spilling from your lips without hesitation.

"Why?"

You’d been broken down to the raw truth.

“I don’t know. So many reasons.”

You were trying to collect your thoughts which were scattered like leaves in the wind.

"I see you in everything," you whispered.

"In every work of art, in every song that I dance to. I feel you in places I didn’t even know existed."

Steve’s smile was angelic.

"Do you remember when I first saw you?"

His teeth scraped the sensitive skin just beneath your jaw, a nip that made you suck in a breath and shudder. His lips curved into a wicked smirk against your skin.

You exhaled as your pulse quickened. You couldn’t move. Couldn’t escape the press of his body behind you and the overwhelming heat of him surrounding you just like the ropes.

"On stage at Regine’s?" you guessed, breath hitching.

"No," he said, voice rich with memory.

"You were walking into the club, lost in your own world, bopping along to your music, completely unaware of me. You were gorgeous. Sexy. Free."

His hands traced the rope securing your thighs apart, squeezing just enough to make you whimper.

"I had to know who you were. I had to get you to notice me. And when you did?"

He exhaled, like the memory itself was intoxicating.

"I felt like the luckiest man on earth, Peach."

Your body sagged into his, relaxing even more, drawn in by the absolute possession in his voice.

"I can’t tell you how many times I’ve envisioned you like this," he murmured.

"What?" Your voice was barely a breath. "Bound and helpless?"

Steve chuckled, the sound rich and sinful.

"Sweetheart, you are far from helpless."

You closed your eyes as his fingers traced slow circles over your inner thighs, where the rope dug into your skin.

"And you shouldn't be in any pain."

His lips brushed your ear, his voice dipping lower, a promise wrapped in silk and steel.

"I think you're going to enjoy the hell out of this."

He guided you down, so that your cheek was on the carpet, eyes searching for his as he ran his hands over you again. The ropes made every sensation more intense, and you couldn't help the sounds coming from your mouth.

You felt his breath on your ass before you felt his tongue strike out to lick a stripe up the center of you as your body arched. You needed more.

A finger worked inside you, then two, scissoring and curling with a sinful knowledge of your body. Steve worked you over with his hand as his mouth played with your emotions. You were so close to release because every thought was centered in that direction.

But then his fingers withdrew and his warm mouth left your pussy.

You moaned in protest as he pulled you up by the ropes and moved in front of you, unzipping his pants.

Every sense was magnified and the sound of his zipper sent waves of your slick sliding down your thighs and blood racing to your nipples. You were oh so hard and wet.

His hard cock was ready and silky smooth, rolling over your lips as his musky scent surrounded you. It only made you want him more as you opened your mouth wider to taste him on your tongue.

Steve hissed, groaning as you took him deep in your throat.

"So good, Peach..."

He rocked into your throat, careful to let you breath as you concentrated to focus on this one thing. You were moaning around him, the pleasure that you were giving him close to getting you off as well.

He stopped pulled off the rest of his clothes, depriving himself at that moment. Again, he lifted you by the ropes onto the bed and handled your ass again, spread open by his handiwork.

"Remember when you trusted me to fuck you here?"

Steve spit on your asshole and rubbed his finger there as you writhed in your binds.

"Ughhhhh! Steveeeee."

You could barely form coherent thoughts as you shook beneath him.

Steve rubbed himself up and down the split of you repeatedly while you kept moaning his name. You were both very nearly insane as he let his cock rest at your entrance, pounding on your door to get in.

His fingers grabbed the ropes on your thighs, pulling you sharply onto his cock. And you screamed, cumming almost immediately with his first stroke.

"Holy fuck, Peach!"

Steve felt you coming apart around him while held together by the rope and he threw his head back as he set a beautiful pace in and out of you. The sound of skin smacking soundly onto skin lent depth to the pornographic sound of your screams and his groans.

And the ropes on your skin lent an extra dimension of sensation. You were intoxicated with feeling, bound up but feeling so free.

“So tell me, Peach…”

Steve bent over you and his fingers found your nipples and pinched, rolling them hard. It was so much that you nearly came again right then then and there. The next words sent you further into the brink.

“What happens if you get pregnant?”

Steve rolled his hips over and over again into your pulsing, clenching cunt.

"Oh, Steve.. fuck..."

“Who is going to protect you and my child from the likes of scum like–”

“Don’t, fuck, Steve, don’t say his name…”

It would ruin your high, thinking of Sully at the moment.

“Say it, Peach. Who is supposed to do that, Peach? Who’s gonna protect my family?”

Steve said it through clenched teeth, but you knew he wasn't just angry. He was scared.

“Answer me, Peach!”

“You would, I know you would, Steve?”

“Are you sure? You gonna let me? Gonna let me knock you up? You gonna trust me to take care of you?”

His pace was frantic, the vision of you pregnant and safe in his arms propelling him forward into the abyss.

Tears stung your eyes at the thought that he doubted you.

And they fell when you realized that you’d given him reason to.

“I do, I trust you Steve. I promise. I’ll let you take care of us. I swear.”

Steve slammed into you harder, holding you tight with each thrust.

“Is that what you want? Do you really want me to do that?”

You just wanted to soothe the hurt.

“I’m sorry, Steve,” you sobbed.

“I want you. I trust you. I need you. I’m sorry!”

Steve’s thumb found your clit and rubbed your sparking bundle of nerves relentlessly, causing you to strain against the ropes again.

“Oh, Steveeee!”

You shattered into a thousand pieces, only to be held together by the rope Steve wove around you. He pulled out and stoked his cock over you, painting the exposed pieces of you with his cum.

You shook as each hot drop hit your skin, aftershocks rocking you as you found his lust blown eyes.

“F-fffuuuckkkkk!”

Steve was profane as he came all over you, lost to the feeling of your release and his. He reached in his bag again and brought out a knife and started cutting you out of your bindings, kissing and massaging each place on your legs that he cut free.

He licked his cum off of you, paying special attention to your cunt, swiping you with his wide, flat tongue as he soothed your skin with his hands.

When you came again, he moved on, cleaning you up and cutting you loose carefully and tenderly. The disparate sensations of his tongue on your skin, his hands massaging you, and the cold steel of the knife set you alight one more time, and as he sucked his spend off your nipples, you came again, untouched.

It was a perfect, tiny aftershock of pleasure.

—-

You opened your eyes to the harsher light of your bathroom, as Steve was lifting you with him into your garden tub filled with hot water. He cradled you in his embrace.

His hands, the same ones that had restrained you so firmly, now moved with infinite gentleness over your skin in the water, watching you closely for discomfort.

"You okay?"

His voice was low, quiet, and filled with genuine concern. You nodded, your limbs heavy, your body still floating somewhere between exhaustion and satisfaction.

But Steve wasn’t satisfied with a nod. He tilted your face toward him, meeting your sleepy gaze, searching for any sign of discomfort.

"Talk to me, sweetheart," he intoned, thumb stroking over your cheek. "I need to know you're alright."

A small, tired smile tugged at your lips.

"I’m perfect," you whispered, and it was the truth.

The intensity of it all, the way he had pushed you, claimed you, and him caring for you made you realize how safe he made you feel.

And that was the point.

Steve exhaled, as if he’d been holding his breath, then pulled you closer, wrapping you in his embrace. The contrast was stark, from restraint to absolute freedom, from domination to protection.

You melted into him, feeling the steady, soothing rhythm of his heartbeat. Suddenly, a bottle of water was produced from the side of the tub and you wondered how long you were out after you came.

“Drink. Let me take care of you," he whispered, pressing a kiss to your temple.

His hands never left you, fingers brushing over you in quiet reassurance as you drank.

"You did so well," he bragged, his voice laced with admiration and pride. "I’m so proud of you.”

You got emotional. You drank half the bottle and put it down, turning in the bath to put your arms around his neck and resting your head on his chest, seeking the comforting rhythm of his heartbeat.

"Stay," you asked, as if it were even a question.

Steve lifted your chin and looked into your eyes.

"Always," he promised.

#steve rogers #peach fic #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers smut #steve rogers x you #mob boss! steve rogers #chris evans

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shimmershifts · 4 months ago

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how to shift:

method 3: lack of awareness

sleep method gang, rise up. i'm serious. these methods involves reducing your awareness of this reality (or any other) to zero, or as close to zero as possible. This is a potentially prime state to trigger a shift. and by sleep method, i don't mean lucid dreams or SATS, or other partially aware states. i mean having a period of complete unawareness, like totally dreamless sleep, and then waking up in your DR.

this is completely different from the state of pure awareness by the way, because in the state of pure awareness you are aware. like, in pure awareness you have a full train of thought and total control. the absence of awareness is the opposite. it feels sort of like a "blip" where reality, time, and space passed you by and you were not aware of it. this absence of awareness during sleep is (in my experience) the most common cause of accidental or unintentional shifts, but you might be one of those who can trigger a shift to desired realities with this too.

sleeping is not the only way to get to the state of the lack of awareness. i'll cover a sleep method below, and a few other methods with tips and tools for how you might be able to use the state of lack of awareness to trigger a shift.

method 3(a):

sleep method

now, there are lots of sleep methods out there, some with complex routines and rituals, and some as simple as "go to sleep and hope to wake up in your DR." the sleep method here will be shimmer's sleep method, ie, if i want to use sleep as a shifting method, this is what i do! feel free to tweak or adjust the steps to suit yourself. i think of my method a lot like setting up dominoes, and then knocking the first one down right before i fall asleep. if all goes well, the dominoes will fall just so to trigger a shift to my DR while im totally asleep, and i'll simply wake up there.

step one: repetition

throughout the day, i want you to think about two things, a dozen times. 1) shifting, and 2) your DR. now, you probably already do this. you're a shifter, you're on shiftblr, you probably already think about shifting and your DR daily, so maybe try to change up the way you do it to increase the chances your brain is triggered to process that in your sleep. this step is also not necessarily about imagining shifting or daydreaming about your DR, though you can do that if you want to. it's about deliberately thinking about shifting, and your DR, at regular intervals. you don't need to do it constantly, but i'd recommend around a dozen times. this number is often recommended to those hoping to trigger a lucid dream, and the concept is the same: the more regularly you think about something while awake, the more likely you'll think about it while asleep too, as your brain processes those memories and thoughts while you sleep.

step two: saturation

do your usual bedtime routine, whatever it is. now, before you go to sleep, i want you to saturate your awareness (which is currently in your CR) with your DR. do this however you want, i do it in different ways each time, it's really best to pick something that feels natural to you. if it feels like homework or boring or stress, you're naturally averse to that, so pick a way you like. scroll your pinterest board, review your script, rewatch your show, imagine your DR, etc etc. the goal here is just to get your CR brain, and your awareness, to soak up thoughts and visuals and words about your DR.

step three: visualize

now you're laying in bed, about to go to sleep. i want you to create a short visualization sequence (remember, visualization does not just mean actually seeing images with your mind. think about it, pick other senses to visualize, monologue it in your mind, tell yourself about it, imagine it.) so, anyway, visualize yourself falling asleep in your CR, and then waking up in your DR. it should be a fairly short sequence, like you're visualizing about 10-30 seconds of time passing. think about how it feels to fall sleep here, and then how it feels to wake up there. pick one or two things about each moment to focus on. once you have this short sequence, repeat it about a dozen times. repeating this single, short sequence is key.

step four: domino

you decide what your domino is. as you're going to sleep, do something to trigger that "domino effect", and remember your goal is to fall asleep in your CR. so don't pick something that keeps you up. maybe get into a light meditative state (that's my preference,) maybe you like to repeat a mantra, maybe you want to get into hypnogogia for awhile, maybe you're a sleep paralysis enjoyer (i fear you, tbh). maybe you just roll over and fall asleep. whatever it is, remember your goal is to fall asleep, not to shift from that state, so don't stress yourself out or keep yourself up. everything you've done so far has been to prime your brain to trigger a shift during sleep, while you're not aware, so don't lay there waiting for the shift to happen or for signs of a shift. don't strain or agitate. the point is to not be aware of the shift when it happens!

step five: wake up in your DR.

if it didn't work, try again, or try a different method!

method 3(b):

meditation: "blipping out"

now, most of the time i see people talking about "blips" or "blinking out" or losing awareness or time when meditating, they see this as a mistake or mishap because it's happening while they are trying to get into a different meditative state, like pure awareness or focus 10 or something else. this method is ideal for anyone who this happens to, and it's a way you can use it instead of trying to work against it.

step one: visualize

before you meditate, i want you to create a short visualization sequence (remember, visualization does not just mean actually seeing images with your mind. think about it, pick other senses to visualize, monologue it in your mind, tell yourself about it, imagine it.) so, anyway, visualize yourself "blipping out" while meditating. how does it usually feel to come back to awareness? visualize that "coming back" moment happening as your DR self in your DR, instead of here. visualize "blipping out" here, and coming to awareness there. it should be a fairly short sequence, like you're visualizing about 10-30 seconds of time passing. pick one or two things about each moment to focus on. once you have this short sequence, repeat it about a dozen times. repeating this single, short sequence is key.

step two: blip out

whatever meditation or method you've used in the past that cause you to experience a "blip" in awareness, use that again. if it's never happened, try a few different ones until you find one that works for you. the last step was about priming your awareness to come "back" to your DR, so hopefully you do!

method 3(c):

severance method

the name is tongue-in-cheek, this could just as easily be called the adhd method, the trigger method, etc etc. this method doesn't require any meditation, or reaching a different state of awareness. the goal of this method is to hopefully catch your CR brain unawares, and trigger you (awareness) to shift when you (CR self) has forgotten to resist. if this method works for you, then you will shift while totally awake, and doing something entirely mundane in your CR, and potentially when you've forgotten entirely that it was even supposed to make you shift.

i think the severance show is a good way to humorously exemplify the goal of this method: to set a specific "trigger" (place, action, etc) to signal your awareness to shift. if you haven't seen it, in the show the characters awareness is triggered to switch to another identity when they descend or ascend the elevator into work. you can pick anything as your trigger, but personally i recommend picking something you do several times a day, up to a dozen times per day. you could pink something you do all the time, like blinking, but i think that could be strenuous to commit to or you'd end up forgetting to actually do the method each time.

step one: pick your "trigger"

this could be anything, but i'll list a few recommendations: every time you plug your phone in to charge, ever time you open the bathroom door, every time you sit down, every time you go up a set of stairs, every time you turn a light off, etc, etc. pick one that works for you.

step two: repetitive visualization

now, pick a time period. it could be a day, i'd recommend several days or a week. every single time you're about to do your trigger (ie, before you sit down, before you flip the light switch, etc) visualize yourself doing the trigger, and then becoming aware in your DR. create a short visualization sequence (remember, visualization does not just mean actually seeing images with your mind. think about it, pick other senses to visualize, monologue it in your mind, tell yourself about it, imagine it.) like you're visualizing about 10-30 seconds of time passing. pick one or two things about each moment to focus on. repeat it right before every time you do your trigger action.

step three: stop

now, hypothetically there's the chance you get triggered to shift just from step 2, but you don't necessarily go into it expecting that. as this is a lack of awareness method, the goal is to prime your brain and awareness, and then stop. after you pass your time window you set before (a day, a week, whatever) you don't have to visualize every time before you do your trigger action. hopefully, when you're not thinking about it, your awareness will be triggered to shift out of habit. if after a few days, a week, or whatever time period feels right to you you're never triggered to shift, then either try again, or try a different method!

troubleshooting:

similar methods: as you'll likely notice, the above methods have a lot of similarities. honestly, most shifting methods are very similar, and they are often quite similar to lucid dream methods, which are often quite similar to study methods, which are often quite similar to- you get the picture. the point is, the things we can do to trigger our brains to remember and do something we're not consciously fully aware of are often quite similar.

not working? try adding some of your own tweaks, mix up a few methods, or add some other tools. check out this post on what triggers a shift for ideas for what to add, and how.

#reality shifting #shifting community #shiftblr #reality shifter #shifting #desired reality #shifting motivation #how to shift #shifting methods #shifting guide #lack of awareness #sleep method #shifting meditation #meditation

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obeymeluv · 18 days ago

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I'm Not a Zigvolt But I Bite - 2 - [Sebek x Reader]

Even though you'd been medically cleared by the nurses in the infirmary and felt way better than you had in a long time, Sebek insisted on carrying you back to Ramshackle. You didn't miss the way his naked hand stayed on a pulse point. Lilia wasn't going to say anything at first but the incurable urge to poke fun at the youngling bested him; he could only laugh and silently praise Sebek's sharp wit. The young man excused the lack of gloves by saying your skin might still be tender from the fight and healing magic so he was just being considerate.

You look up at him lovingly, resting your head on his chest. Sebek feels his ears burning, his insides squirming so much that he'll puke if he keeps eye contact. His sharp eyes dart away, cheeks a powdery pink. Malleus is no stranger to teasing Sebek and Silver, naturally, and offers to carry you. The offer is met with a pure crocodilian noise that Malleus recognizes as offended, possessive, and threatening.

Not the logical mind of his guard, obviously. Merely the teeth of his animal side.

"My apologies," Malleus can't deny the noise makes his fangs itch. "I shan't tease you any longer. It was simply in jest, my friend."

"I understand, my lord." Sebek hmphs as he stares ahead and ignores Lilia's muffled giggling. It's clear to anyone behind him that his neck is red. You somehow convince Sebek to let you walk around after Grim opens the door (Sebek woke him up from a nap). For sucking in a whole magical dragon scale, you don't really feel different.

Sleepy, but not different.

You kind of thought you'd immediately get super strength or be able to hear the gate rattling from the living room.

A wave of exhaustion hits you and you sigh defeatedly, crawling onto the beaten couch with Grim. Your companion pulls down a blanket and snuggles in, ready to get a more restful sleep now that you're home and safe. Lilia and the others take their leave.

Sebek listens to them lock the door, his eyes not leaving you. It's subtle but your skin is changing. There's a thin, twinkling veil over your body. With effort and absolute silence, he scoops you and Grim up. You're asleep now but he can feel something thrumming in you, your veins humming now instead of just flowing with blood.

He lays you down, tucking you in carefully. Grim runs hot, being a fire-breathing direbeast, but that heat can't hide the fact you don't feel as warm as he's used to.

Maybe it's just because you've been through so much? Maybe he's just imagining things because he's worried. Yes, that's it. It has to be.

What happens when a human becomes fae like this? Sebek texts Lilia. They're changing.

I'm not sure, my boy, Lilia texts back. Humans normally become part fae through marriage or contract. This is different. The most we can do is keep an eye on them and look for dragon fae traits.

Sebek wonders just what 'dragon fae traits' entailed as he sheds his tie and blazer. He changes into some spare clothes and nestles in beside you.

Whatever that means, he'll see you through it. A small part of him can't deny that he's intrigued by your change. His brain is suddenly consumed with the daydream of teaching little fae children how to walk and wondering if they'll have visible scales like his grandfather since both of you have the genes for them now.

Trait 1: Dragon fae, like most fae, are bewitching but their eyes are especially captivating. A dragon fae's thrall is strong.

Sebek had his own internal clock and despite being raised by nocturnal fae, he was an early riser. You get more things done when you wake early. He inhaled deeply through his nose, stretching up towards the headboard as one foot slipped out of the sheets to touch the floor. Grim gave a weak yowl of protest as Sebek stretched his other leg out; your little direbeast had somehow fallen asleep between you two and chose to lounge across your thigh and use Sebek's calf as a footrest.

"Come back to bed, Becky," Sebek looks over his shoulder at you, silently cursing the direbeast. Your voice is sleepy but your eyes grow clearer by the second. And they...seem to glow? Surely it's a trick of the light? You take pride in keeping Ramshackle clean but the windows are old and battered by time and the twisting branches of looming trees.

Surely it's the way the light's filtering in through your cheap curtains.

Yes, it has to be.

"Lay with me," your voice is hoarse from sleep but invitingly warm. A warm, simmering coo that wraps around him like the hands around his waist. Sebek's muscles flinch as you trace around his stomach and up his chest but you both know he's ticklish. There's a residual hum running on the heels of the warmth and he finds himself rolling over, sliding back in to face you.

Your eyes are bright and brilliant; there's streaks and flecks he never noticed before. Your pupils are bigger than they normally are, he observes, and something boyish in him squeals with glee because that means you're interested in him. He watches your irises glimmer with a soft candlelight-like glow, the colors flaring and dimming like a flame.

He is a willing bug. He was before your change but there's an otherworldly potency now.

You snuggle against him, nose to nose now, and your eyes glitter with absolute joy. The air crackles with something that makes his neck hairs stand on end, his skin pebbling with goosebumps. It doesn't make a physical noise but his chest seizes like he's been sucker-punched. "Ramshackle's colder than Diasomnia. I know you don't like being cold when you wake up so let's lay together for a while." you wrap your arms around him and Sebek melts.

For a brief moment he wonders if you'd hoard him. Does this count as your nest or is there enough royal lineage in you to turn your nose up at it? "I suppose we could rest some more. We've earned it after these last few days," his chin finds its normal spot at the top of your head.

Trait 2: Dragon fae forget their own strength

Sebek is ripped from sleep by a cacophonous splintering that makes his stomach drop. His first thought: Grim blew up the furniture again.

"Sebek! Help!"

He sprints out of the bed, sure the sheets have new holes to sew because he threw them off so viciously. Sebek's feet pound against the creaky wood and he slides to a stop at the top of the stairs. There's a huge chunk of the banister on the first floor now, splinters of wood scattered about. Your foot is in one of the steps and he can only guess you stepped down too hard. Trying to catch yourself on the railing didn't work and now you're dangling in the space it used to be.

"Hold on!" Sebek steps carefully around you, wary of your combined weight. "Be still," his voice is firm but not cold. You relax at the warm, reassuring feeling of his hands on your waist. He pulls you up and drags you back, hauling you up a step so your foot isn't twisted anymore. The fact that you're not gushing blood from the splintery maw you've put your foot in is a testament to your fae genes.

As is the fact you didn't break anything.

He pushes on the boards around your foot, trying to find weak spots he can break without stabbing you. You've scooted back a step and a half, trying to pull your foot out while he works. Sebek hears the woody groan before he sees the cracks, tucking himself against the wall and covering his face as wood rains down. The step is basically nonexistent but you're free now. "Um, good morning?" you blush, brushing wood bits off of him as you stand awkwardly on an in-tact step.

Your foot looks red and tender but that fades by the time he carries you down the steps. Had he not seen the scratches and dried blood on your foot before he picked you up, he wouldn't have known you were hurt.

"Why don't we get some breakfast?" he offers, brushing hair out of his eyes.

"We're in pajamas," you mumble quietly.

"I'll grab us some clothes. Stay down here, okay?" Sebek changes and fixes his hair, stepping outside while you change. Out of habit, he opens the door for you and makes sure it's locked before he, you, and Grim leave.

Trait 3: Dragon fae tend to collect shiny things

Sebek can tell by the crinkle in your brow and the tenseness of your jaw that you're focusing. He wonders if the fork and knife suddenly feel like nothing in your hand. Do you feel like you're cutting through the sausage or sawing through the ceramic plate underneath?

He's not surprised that you're eating more protein-focused foods. Dragon fae, like crocodilian fae, prefer protein heavy, nutrient dense foods. It was no secret to anyone at NRC that you ate healthy and heartily when you got the chance, being on a petty salary. So far you'd eaten two thick slices of Mostro Lounge's breakfast quiche, a sausage patty, and a piece of his bacon. Malleus and Lilia join you, bringing on a new round of croissants, spreads, and other delicacies.

Jade dutifully clears the plates, stacking them in an almost hypnotizing manner. They fit so cleanly together! He sets Sebek's parfait glass on top and pauses. "I believe my silverware count is off. Does anyone recall dropping anything?"

"We'll look around. No need to tire yourself!" Lilia dismisses him with his usual big smile. His pink eyes turn dark and sharp, boring into you like the bite of a dagger. He holds his gloved hand out, wiggling his fingers expectantly. Firmly, like a parent.

"What?" you try not to squirm. The look he's giving you makes your skin crawl. He doesn't miss the fact that you're sitting on your hands.

"Hand them over, Beastie."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

There's hissing and pissy noises but Lilia is unfazed. He's been through this for at least a hundred years with Malleus before you were even thought of. Lilia wrestles your hand onto the table, scalloped silverware gleaming in the lounge's lighting. The dragon part of your brain is too strong for you to feel shame. "It's mine!" you hiss.

"Your first hoard! Delightful!" Malleus is no help at all, eyes gleaming with pride as he rests his chin on his hand to watch Lilia lecture you, arm pinned under his at a weird angle until you give up your stolen treasures. Sebek distracts you with a cute little butter dish that looks like a crystal bell, twirling it in the light to make it twinkle. He quickly shoves it into Jade's hand, tangling his finger with yours. Lilia keeps a firm grip on your other arm, free hand full of the silverware and waving at Jade.

You scowl and pout, drumming your fingers angrily on the tablecloth. "Stop that before you shred it." Lilia smacks the top of your hand without even looking; it's a reflex to lay it flat and you see your nails have tapered into strong, sharp points.

"Would you like to go trinket shopping, Child of Man? It will make you feel better."

"Don't baby them, Malleus! You don't reward bad behavior."

"They're basically a hatchling, Lilia. It's not fair."

"Start them young!" Lilia shoos you away from the table before you can take anything else.

Trait 4: Dragon fae are possessive

Lilia sat Crowley, Divus, Vargas, and Trein down to explain your...new developments....before school resumed the next day. The only class you didn't need extra supervision in was Flying. It was open and vast and you weren't a direct danger to anyone since you walked while the others flew. You were itching to grab a broom and see if you could fly since Malleus could but Vargas refused on the principle that a juvenile half-dragon fae might pose a risk to others.

You'd start private flying lessons at a later date, just not today.

Miffed was an understatement, but you'd live. You tried not to think about it because it made your chest burn.

Being part fae meant seeing the world with new eyes; you were surprised at how easily you picked up the scurrying of squirrels in the trees or bugs in the grass. There was a near-constant chiming in your ear now. You'd seen little fairies on your walks with Malleus before and they seemed drawn to you, like they recognized the fae in you. The crisp sweetness of the grass was more apparent now; you could smell the richness of the dirt, too.

You could also hear some Savanaclaw students making fun of Sebek and that made your blood boil. Something about 'the reason he can't fly straight is because he already has a broom up his ass'? In you're head you're telling them to fuck off but that's not what comes out of your mouth. You don't even know what comes out of your mouth but it scares them and you're okay with that!

The rage buzzes in you still and you try to tell them to shut the hell up because they're making fun of you now. Mocking Diasomnia and the company they keep. There's a pop in your throat and it feels like you've swallowed wrong, like you've sucked something in and it makes you cough. Green blasts of fire tear through the sky, narrowly missing the guy's broom.

Everyone panics, brooms darting all around, and you close your mouth. It doesn't stop the burning or the violent urge to cough. Smoke tickles in your lunges and scorches your nostrils. You've seen Malleus blow smoke out of his nose before but it's not helping. Unable to help yourself, you cough. You cough until it feels gone from your lungs.

Vargas, who'd been casting protective shields and using magic to get the brooms down, blasted you with a water spell. You were now dripping wet and smoking but you didn't care. The terrified Savanaclaw student locks eyes with you and you point at him, clicking your teeth. Smoke slides out of your mouth when you do.

"Don't make fun of my boyfriend or I'll roast you, asshole!" you find your human voice again but it squeaks from smoke and dryness. The guy clearly heard you based on how he turned and ran.

Trait 5: There's rumors that dragon fae can influence the weather but not enough data to support it

Sebek is absolutely soaked through but he doesn't care about that right now. Vargas ushered everyone inside but he, Lilia, and Malleus stayed in the field with you. The clouds gathered almost instantly but there's no lightning. Just a lonely rumble and a flood of rain that hides your tears.

His footsteps go unheard in the wet grass as it drowns and sags. He moves your wild hair, cupping your cheeks to tilt your head towards the sky. You give great, heaving sobs and his thumbs dig into the corner of your lips to make your mouth open. "It will soothe your throat," his hand moves to cradle the back of your head, cheek pressed against your throat as you swallow.

You sputter and cough, drawing back to look at him. You make a feeble attempt to wipe your eyes clean but it doesn't matter because your hands are wet and there's raindrops in your lashes. "Are you mad at me?" your eyes are crinkling up like you're going to cry no matter what he says. "D-Do you want to break up with me?"

The rain gets heavier. It stings now instead of just being cold.

"Why would I break up with you?" Sebek cups your face again, pulling you in until your foreheads touch.

"Because I'm weird and I broke the stairs and I breathe fire? I don't know what I'm doing and it's really hard!" you sag in his hold and Sebek folds himself down so you both sit on the ground.

"That's just part of being a young fae," Sebek laughs. "You're going to do weird things and have to learn your body again."

"So it happened to Malleus?"

"Most definitely. Lilia could tell you plenty of stories. Pretty sure he has pictures, too." Sebek recalled one of Malleus looking absolutely murderous as he sat at a long table half-covered by ice magic.

The rain was letting up now. It was almost a gentle mist.

"What about you?"

"Had to wear a muzzle." Sebek gave a wry smile. "I tore up a lot of furniture and had an insatiable urge to bite everything when my new teeth were coming in."

Sun started to slide across the grass again. He stood up, brushing clumps of dirt and grass from his knees. Sebek helped you up and you scooped him into a crushing hug that made him yelp. You paused, realizing you'd lifted him a bit and put him down gently.

"Can I carry you?"

Sebek had to wince against the sun now, looking down at you. You looked up at him with those big, glowing eyes and he was glad your thrall hadn't activated. It was just the big, puppy eyes of his lover.

"If you must," he sighed, crossing his arms like a grouchy child as you carried him bridal style. Lilia and Malleus clapped in the background.

#Sebek x reader #Twisted Wonderland #Twisted Wonderland x Reader #Twst x Reader #Sebek Zigvolt

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