#shes only good at deflecting not acknowledging

[thetimelordbatgirl]

JK Rowling: "Give me examples of me being a hateful bigot!"

Scott Frerichs' from Team Four Star: "Okay here." *makes a whole ass thread with photos and everything ranging from her holocaust denialism to her being allies with terf's who are pro-taking away abortion rights*

JK Rowling: *suddenly fucking quiet and not responding*

[xxsabitoxx]

Pale Blue [Part One]

Geto Suguru x AFAB Pregnant Reader

READ PART TWO HERE

Warnings: THIS FIC IS CANON COMPLIANT, if you are not caught up on Jujutsu Kaisen's manga, or at the very least if you have not seen "gojo's past" you WILL be spoiled. This story contains darker themes, heavier topics, pregnancy and all the lovely details of it, and lastly explicit sexual content. Read at your own risk!

A/N: Here it is!! Part One!! This fic is super self indulgent for me and I'm very excited for y'all to read it. The idea literally came to me in a dream like a month ago and I woke up and immediately started writing. It's been a long ass time since I've written a plot heavy fic, and it's been well over a year since I've actively planned a multiple part story and gone through with it. So, this fic is kinda like... my baby lol.

Word Count: 19k | Playlist

September 2007

Your mouth felt like chalk, hands trembling ever so slightly as you set the small wand on the countertop in your bathroom. You couldn't think straight, but that unfortunately wasn’t anything new, it had been that way for the last three weeks. Ever since he left, you had felt like your head was stuck in a fishbowl. People eyeing you with pity at the world you had been dropped into, their whispers muffled into incoherent nonsense as you walked by. Satoru was no better off, but he could at least tug his emotions off of his sleeves and place them in his heart where nobody could see them, except for you. At least you would be able to see them if he didn’t shut you out. 

Not that you had been any kinder, you had withdrawn too. 

The only one who seemed alright was Shoko, her reaction to Suguru’s deflection was nothing out of character. Not many things could shock her to her core, even something as absurd as what Suguru had done couldn’t wipe the gentle smile from her face when she saw him again. You envied her for that level of composure. You envied her for getting to see him again, just as you envied Satoru. For some reason, the man evaded you as if you were the plague. Or perhaps it looked like you were merely chasing after a ghost, a figment of your imagination. You kind of wished that it was true, that Geto Suguru had been someone you conjured up in your mind. 

But he wasn’t, he was a real, breathing human who had taken over one hundred lives…. Including his parents. The thought made your mouth taste like metal, everytime you zoned out too long and thought too hard, you’d bite your inner cheek until it bled. Three weeks later you still felt like you were moving on autopilot, the only thing that could pull you out of it would be his gentle embrace. You blinked a bit, the metallic taste coating your tongue as you unclench your jaw and look in the mirror. You hardly recognize yourself, for a moment  you think you look just like him, and it's enough to steal the little air you had in your lungs. 

You had never thought you'd experience a heartbreak as severe as this one, and you especially didn’t think it would be dealt to you by Suguru. Though you saw all of the signs, the hundreds if not thousands he put out and never let you touch. No, his cries for help were always directed at Satoru. The white haired man never seemed to catch them, and if he did, he never said a thing. Suguru had refused to acknowledge his issues when he was with you, no matter how many times you tried to sit him down and get it out. He’d change the subject and move on. 

He’d sweet-talk you, making you forget why you had been so concerned in the first place because there, for a fleeting moment, was the boy you had fallen in love with two years prior. He’d fill your mind with nothing but good things, pretty noises, good feelings. Not stopping until his name was all you could utter, not stopping until you fell asleep in his arms, content and sedated. He was a master at avoidance, trying so hard to keep things perfect just for you. You were beginning to hate him for it, but even the idea of hating him made bile burn your throat. 

You were left in emotional turmoil, love mixing with hate mixing with rage and depression. No matter how many times the word hate flashed through your mind, it was never truly directed at Suguru. Rather the jujutsu world, the things they had forced upon him, the pressure he had been made to feel. You especially felt that bubbling hate for a certain man by the name of Fushiguro Toji, who caused this whole spiral. He was long gone now, Satoru had effectively put the man down and he would not be getting back up. Though it killed you to no end that he got the easy way out. You almost wished that Satoru had kept the man alive. 

You couldn’t stomach it as your back pressed into the cold wall of your bathroom, arms folded over your chest as you stared at nothing in particular. Eyes refusing to focus on anything of importance but making a point to avoid the developing test on the counter. 

Suguru had left you a note, shortly after his final conversation with Satoru. You had returned to your dorm to see it on your bed and you recognized his handwriting before you even read your name on the envelope. You could still feel your hands trembling as you ripped the paper, flinching as it cut your skin, crumbling as tears dripped down your cheeks. You read it three times before finally comprehending the words, the paper littered with tear drops and your blood. Every word was written with care, you could hear his voice as your eyes passed over each sentence, see his face before you as if he was speaking. 

It was an apology, his resolve and a goodbye all in one. Leaving you more empty than you had felt before. Still, it sat on your nightstand, you couldn’t throw it away. As if his sweaters weren’t still hanging in your closet, like the blanket he got you wasn’t still sitting on your bed. You held onto that letter like it was the last thing you had of him. Mourning him as if he had died, like he wasn’t still alive and breathing and walking around within the very city you were in now. You almost thought it would be easier if he had died. At least you’d feel some sort of closure, knowing he’s not coming back. But this, this was a form of torture for you. 

To know that you could bump into him at a restaurant, or even pass him on a busy street. He wasn’t gone, if anything he was doing better than he ever was. Leaving you, Satoru, Shoko, and everyone else behind to pick up the shattered pieces. Still, you couldn’t hate him for that. No amount of anger would mend the torn pieces of your broken heart. You were fairly certain nothing would, the only cure was the one man you could no longer call your own. You’d spend the rest of your life with your heart ripped wide, an empty void filling the space. 

You inhaled deeply, pushing off the bathroom wall and taking a hesitant step towards the counter. The test was upside down, you couldn’t see the small little window that would show you the results, for a moment you wanted to pick it up and throw it in the trash without even looking. There was nothing stopping you from doing so either, but you held back anyways. The only reason you were taking a pregnancy test in the first place was because your period was two weeks late. You could easily chalk it up to stress, but at the same time you knew all too well that you and Suguru often went without protection. Idiot. 

Somehow, despite his inner battles, Suguru’s sex drive never slowed down. Maybe it was the craving for physical touch or maybe sex was a great way for him to forget about his issues for a while. Regardless, you had always been eager to oblige, even if it meant falling into his traps and luring your attention away from the real issue at hand. You had no idea how long it had been and if the damn thing was positive you were sure it would show up by now. So you picked it up and flipped it over in your hand, tired eyes scanning it. Your forehead creased for a moment, eyes squinting in frustration because you couldn’t tell if there was a second line or not. 

If it’s positive, it's too early to tell. Your grip tightens around the small plastic test, anger flooding your heart as you chuck it in the trash can with such force it rattles as it hits the wall. Once again you are left with uncertainty. It seemed nobody could give you a straight answer anymore. Truth be told, you weren’t sure what you wanted that test to say. The thought of being pregnant with his child would have elated you two months ago. Now the thought made your insides twist and turn, for a moment you thought you were going to puke again. At the very same time, the idea of the test being negative felt like a rug being pulled out from under you. 

As if you didn’t know that feeling well enough. 

In a twisted way, you thought that being pregnant would bring him back to you. As if it would erase every heinous crime he had committed and bring the man you loved back into your arms. You were foolish, but not foolish enough to really believe in those daydreams. You hauled yourself out of your bathroom and back into your dorm room, falling into your disheveled bed with a soft thump. His t-shirt was hanging loosely on your body, it still smells faintly of him. It’s the only shirt of his that you’d been wearing, too afraid to lose his scent on the others. 

It was still early enough for you to sleep for a few more hours before Shoko was knocking on your door and hauling you into the world. You hated it, but she assured you that you’d thank her for it in a couple months. You doubted it, and for some reason you felt like she did too. 

Your sleep was dreamless, it had been since Suguru left you. You weren’t quite sure if you were thankful for that or not. Suguru was still the last thing you thought about before falling asleep and the first thing you thought of when you woke up. His absence consumed your every thought, impossible to ignore, unable to forget. There had been a few tough nights where you dragged yourself down the hall towards Satoru’s room. The man was usually still up, sitting on his bed with a book in hand that you could tell he wasn’t reading. Just an attempt at distraction. 

He welcomes you without a word, scooting over a bit so you could sit beside him, head on his shoulder as he tosses the book to the floor. You remain like that until you fall asleep, no words spoken but nothing needed to be verbalized to understand you were both mourning the loss of a man who wasn’t even dead. In an odd way, you felt as if you were mourning Satoru as well. His smile, his jokes, the way his eyes seemed to sparkle, all of those things had dwindled. To his credit, he was managing to pull himself back together, at least better than you had been. 

A harsh knock at your door signaled that Shoko was there. You hadn’t even realized that you fell asleep, but you felt even more groggy than you had a couple hours prior. “I’m up.” It’s hoarse and unconvincing but you hear Shoko utter a small “ok”. You know she’s still there, she always waits for you to get dressed and emerge from your room yourself. If you make her wait any longer than fifteen minutes she's usually barging in herself to pull you from your bed. Your body aches as you sit up, stumbling across the room to the bathroom because you need to pee yet again. 

The air almost feels stale as you get your routine done in the bathroom, the test is still sitting in the small can beside your sink. It’s presence is heavy, to the point you question if you should take it out with you despite only having a couple tissues accompanying it. You decided against it when she knocked again. “Just getting dressed.” You mumbled softly, listening for her small “Hmph.” At least letting you know she heard you. Your uniform still felt foreign on your skin, it had for the last three weeks but you tried to ignore it. “About time.” Shoko smiled as you emerged, Satoru beside her. “Oh? You’re both here?” Your tone was questioning but not mad. 

“Yeah, Yaga said we should take the day to be normal or something like that.” Satoru drawled, circular glasses sliding down his nose as he rolled his eyes. “Us? Normal?” You snorted, pulling your door shut as Shoko began walking down the hallway. “He just doesn’t know what to do with us at the moment.” Satoru offered in a low tone, Shoko would scold him for speaking like that, especially to you. The thing is, he wasn’t saying anything that you hadn’t already thought of yourself. “I don’t know what to do with us either.” You could assume Yaga was being vigilant, the guilt of not seeing what was happening with Suguru was weighing on him too. 

The flick of Shoko’s lighter was heard as you stepped into the morning air, laughter bubbling in your chest as you looked at her. “It was killing you, wasn’t it.” Yaga had been cracking down on her bad habit, trying to limit her by saying no smoking in the dorms. “Just a little.” She teased back, inhaling deeply before blowing the gray smoke past her lips. “Shoko, gimme one.” Your eyebrow cocked as Satoru stuck his hand out. Her eyes met you for a moment before begrudgingly handing the lighter and pack to him. “New habit?” You commented softly, watching as he stuck a cylinder between his lips and held his hand up to block the flame from the wind. 

Satoru shrugged, inhaling a bit before blowing out, moving to hand the pack to you. You hesitated, the test in your dorm trash can still lingering in the back of your mind. “I’m good.” You took them anyway, handing them to Shoko. Neither of them said anything but they shared a knowing glance, they couldn’t be mad at you for trying to quit a bad habit. “So where are we going?” You didn’t like the prolonged silence as the two of them puffed away. “I didn’t think you’d want to go anywhere, but if you want we can go get breakfast.” Shoko’s eyes flickered over both you and Satoru, as if she was looking at two temperamental children. 

“Breakfast sounds good.” Satoru offered, shoving one hand in his pocket while the other plucked the cig from his lips. “It does.” You added softly, stomach turning at the very thought of food but you couldn’t let them know that. You had lost your appetite shortly after he left, but you still forced yourself to eat at least one substantial meal a day. The nausea that had settled in your gut most days usually deterred you from anything else but plain rice and maybe some soup. Still, it was food and the only thing you could keep down at that. “Alright, I’ll call for a driver and we can go get something to eat.” Shoko pulled out her phone, clicking on a number she saved. 

“You’ve been eating, right?” You jumped a little, eyes sliding over to Satoru. His tone was low, just low enough for only you to hear. “Yeah, I’ve been eating… you?” He looked the same, tall and lean with broad shoulders. Satoru nodded, pushing his glasses up to sit on the bridge of his nose. “The car will be at the gates for us in five minutes so let's get going.” Shoko started walking, like always you and Satoru followed behind her like ducklings. Satoru’s question still lingered in your mind, his ability to read your thoughts nearly rivaled Suguru. 

You had to wonder just how much those six eyes of his could see. 

The three of you clamored into the car, Satoru taking the passenger seat while you and Shoko took the back. You had no idea where you were going, not even when Shoko gave an address to the driver. It was somewhere in the city, you knew that much, but you trusted her judgment and prayed they would have something plain for your stomach. None of you spoke as the car barreled forward, your eyes glued to the surroundings zipping past you, as if you’d catch him walking down the street on a busy morning. You knew you’d always be looking for him, everywhere you went, your eyes would search for him. 

You tore your eyes from the window, glancing at Satoru in the passenger seat. You couldn’t see his eyes, but his head was turned towards the window. If you had to guess, he was doing the very same thing. Looking for someone who would never appear. Unless you were Shoko of course, you still felt your throat tighten at the thought. You knew Suguru had chosen to reveal himself to her for a couple reasons. One being that she wasn’t nearly strong enough to take him down single handedly. The other being her easy going nature, he knew there would be little to no conflict or questions to answer with her. If roles were reversed, you’d do the same. 

“Hello?” You blinked, looking at Shoko with parted lips. “You okay?” her head tilted, brown eyes lingering over your features. “I… yeah.” You swallowed, the car was still moving so you didn’t space out for that long. “What are you in the mood to eat?” She repeated the question she had asked seconds prior while you were clearly on another plane of existence. “Something plain.” You offered lamely, hands clasping together in your lap. “Plain?” Satoru questioned, eyes shifting to look at you through the rearview mirror. “My stomach has been sensitive. Plain foods are all I can really get down right now.” You shrunk into the seat. 

Shoko hummed, eyes observing you intently now. You could almost hear her silently listing all of your physical symptoms, noting in her head the various things that could cause them. Most could be answered with heartbreak, but that didn’t typically make you sensitive to certain foods. Shoko and Satoru knew of Suguru's relationship with you. They knew you were serious about each other, that you often slept in the other’s dorm depending on the day. They knew you went on dates and bought each other gifts. They knew you had long since confessed your love to one another and were not strangers to holding hands when you thought nobody was looking. 

It didn’t take a genius to figure out that the two of you slept together as well. 

~

“Quiet.” You sunk your teeth into the side of your cheek, struggling to stifle your noises as Suguru’s fingers curled inside of your tight heat. “You don’t want them to hear us, right?” he cooed again, lips ghosting the shell of your ear as he pressed you harder into the empty desk, nearly pushing it into the wall of the classroom with the ferocity of his hunger. 

You shook your head, not trusting your voice in that moment to make any coherent sounds. Your nails dug into his bicep, legs splayed hazardously over the sides of the desk as you used your free hand to brace yourself. Two fingers continued to plunge in and out of you, curling perfectly and sucking the air from your lungs as he found that one particular spot. 

Suguru watched in fascination, dark eyes glazed over as they flickered between his hand and your face. Each draw back revealed the slick shine of your arousal on his digits, each push forward was accompanied by a squelch. It made his throat tight, arousal making him feel hot all over as he continued to fuck you with his fingers. 

“Sugu…” You choked, face warming considerably as you realized how desperate you sounded. “Hmm?” a gentle hum, his fingers burying deep and massaging your walls until your thighs twitched. “I need you.” Your head fell back, hand leaving his bicep to slap over your mouth in an attempt to silence the cry that left you. “You…need me?” 

Those words were jarring to him, as if a chain of firecrackers had been ignited under his skin. You nodded, helpless and at his mercy as you prayed Satoru and Shoko wouldn’t wander off to figure out where the two of you had gone. You couldn’t quite comprehend what happened next, the sudden retreat of his fingers left you feeling empty, clearing your foggy mind for a second. 

They were quickly replaced with something else, something wet and soft. Your eyes widened considerably when you looked down to see Suguru on his knees, hands gripping the plush of your thighs with his face buried between. He would have given you more if it weren't for his damn pants, he was too impatient to struggle with the high waisted fashion choices he made. 

You couldn’t think again, mind immediately fogging over as you focused solely on Suguru’s head between your legs. The flat of his tongue licking up your folds before delving further, bumping your clit with his nose and earning a strangled noise from you. You bit down on your fist now, not hard enough to draw blood but enough to silence yourself for a bit. 

Suguru didn’t mind, if anything he wanted them to hear you. He wanted to see the shocked look on Satoru’s face when he realized what was happening. He couldn’t lie, this whole rendezvous had started because of an offhand comment Satoru made. One about how he was likely better at pleasing women than Suguru. You knew that's why you were in here too, you felt like you needed to thank Satoru for pushing Suguru to this point, whether that was his intention or not. 

Heat continued to build in your gut, if you could trust yourself to stay balanced you would have let go of the desk and buried your hand in his hair. You wanted to tug the silky black locks from the confines of the bun he always kept them in, watch them cascade around his handsome face and turn messy because of your fingers. Then again, that may make it a little too obvious to your two awaiting friends. “Sugu…” 

You gasped, hand flying from your mouth to grab the desk as you nearly lost your balance. Suguru had started to stand, knocking you back as his arms wrapped around your lower half in a bear hug. Suguru was standing at his full height now, your knees bent over his shoulders while only your mid-back and shoulders pressed into the desk. You could have melted into a puddle the moment his eyes met yours, his mouth still pressed firmly to your cunt. 

“Suguru…” You choked again, hands moving to grip the sides of the desk for some kind of grounding. You could feel him smirk, eyes burning into yours as his tongue lavished you. It was all too much, too lewd, too risky. Your orgasm was building faster than you anticipated, the tingling arousal shooting down your spine and making your legs tense as he teased you. You came with a choked cry of his name, eyes squeezing shut as you rode out your orgasm. 

~

“We’re here.” You blinked, eyes scanning your surroundings as Satoru got out of the car. “Are you sure you’re okay? We can get the food to go and head back to campus.” Shoko’s words were out of concern but her tone was still relaxed. “I’m alright, I could use some time in a busy space.” You lied, the quiet of your dorm room had never sounded so inviting. “Thank you.” You muttered softly to the driver, his small smile told you he was well aware of what was going on. Satoru was already by the front door of the cafe, putting out the butt of his cigarette on a nearby trash can before dropping it in. Shoko did the same, following after you as you entered. 

Satoru’s looks tended to come in handy, his glasses sliding down his nose to show the startling blue of his eyes was all that was needed to get the three of you a seat and bypass the wait. “At least you’re good for something.” You teased him, watching him roll his eyes before smiling. “It’s my duty to get the two of you quick service and good food, even if I have to whore myself out.” For some reason, that had laughter bubbling in your chest, the genuine kind. “Such a noble sacrifice.” You laughed, the menu in your hand shaking as your shoulders bounced. You were too distracted to see the way Satoru’s shoulders seemed to sag in relief as he watched you, for a moment it was like nothing had changed.

If it weren't for the gaping, empty space in the booth beside him, he would have been convinced. 

“What are you going to get, Shoko?” She was the only one actively looking over the menu. “I’m not sure yet, but they do have some options that would be easy on your stomach.” You weren’t sure why but it made your heart ache just a bit, she had been more concerned over your meal than her own. At the very same time, it made you feel small, like you were a bit of a nuisance for having stomach issues… or whatever they were… in the first place. “Oh, alright.” You focused on the menu, aware of their eyes on you as you tried to find something small but appealing. You settled on tamagoyaki and asked for it to be made on the salty side rather than sweet. 

Shoko went for a traditional meal as well while Satoru ventured into their “western” cuisine. His choice sounded so sweet that the thought of it made your teeth hurt. “I don’t know how you do it, Satoru.” you sipped your tea slowly, letting the hot liquid slide down your throat and settle in your stomach. He only shrugged, smiling softly “I’ve yet to find something too sweet for me to handle.” Normally he would have added something flirty but he decided against it. Despite knowing you and Suguru were a couple, it never stopped Satoru’s flirtatious comments. It only bothered Suguru a little bit but he knew his best friend would never cross that kind of line. 

“You may go into cardiac arrest before you meet your match, Satoru.” Shoko snorted, sipping her coffee as she took in the surroundings of the busy cafe. For a moment, you wondered if she was doing what you and Satoru had been subconsciously doing for the last three weeks. “I keep waiting for him to appear.” Your tone was just barely above a whisper, as if even bringing up his existence would cause the world to implode around you. “Me too.” Shoko spoke softly, eyes still looking anywhere but the two of you. Satoru kept quiet, face unusually somber as he sipped his coffee. “I think I’ll eventually go insane.” 

You tried to sound lighthearted but the crack in your voice gave the opposite effect. 

Satoru’s eyes flickered up at that, making your shoulders shrink into the booth. You had quickly come to learn that both of your friends were treating you like fragile porcelain. Though you partially felt the same when talking to them, especially Satoru. Despite the frequent and long nights with each other, little to no words were ever spoken. “I’m fine.” You tried, voice a little stronger than before. “We can talk about these things without falling apart.” It sounded like you were trying to convince yourself more than them. Before anyone could speak, the waiter was walking over with your food, effectively stopping any further discussion. 

“Satoru…” You choked as the waiter walked away, eyes focused on the sugary, gooey concoction on the plate before him. “That’s your ticket to the ER.” Shoko was gawking at it too, a bite of food already halfway to her mouth. Satoru, on the other hand, looked like a kid on christmas morning, glasses sliding down his nose with a smile on his face. Your stomach grumbled as he cut into the pancakes, the feeling making you jump just a bit. You actually felt hungry, mouth watering as you looked down at your own plate and moved to take a bite. 

Silence fell over the table as you all ate, within minutes half of your food was gone and you were quietly wishing you had ordered something a little bigger.

“You need a napkin.” You laughed softly, handing Satoru your spare napkin so he could wipe the syrup off of his cheek. “Thanks.” For some reason you couldn't help but think he looked like a little kid. For another reason you couldn’t quite explain, it made sadness sink into your shoulders. He should be here with the three of you, eating and laughing and bringing you the comfort you always looked for in him. Your hands shook as you moved to eat more, not willing to let the surge of emotion get rid of the appetite you rarely had nowadays. 

As you finished your plate, you felt the bubbling wave of nausea build in your stomach. You inhaled slowly, trying to find a way to ease your worries and keep your food down. “Are you okay? You look a little green.” Shoko eyed you with concern, not even a second later Satoru was signaling the waiter for the check. “Y-yeah… told you my stomach was sensitive. That’s the most I've eaten at once in the last three weeks.” You couldn’t stand the embarrassment of making a scene or wasting money on the food you had just consumed. “I’ll be back.” You slipped out of the booth, your friend’s concerned eyes zeroing in on you as you disappeared for the bathroom. 

Luckily for you the bathroom was empty, the fluorescent lights making you flinch as you stumbled to the sink and turned the water on cold. You leaned over it, hands and wrists submerged under the running stream, chest heaving with the effort to remain calm. You were desperate to keep the food down, so desperate you could feel sweat forming on your temple as you tried to focus on anything but the nausea. Suguru’s face flashed through your mind and for a moment you were convinced your knees would give out from under you. 

~

“I told you to take it easy.” He huffs softly, fingers running through your hair as he rakes it away from your face. Carefully, he’s looping one of his elastics around your hair to keep it in place. Your head is still buried in the toilet, you had just finished throwing up for the third time in the last hour. “Are you still with me?” His hand is on your back now, rubbing slow but deliberate circles. Feebly you give him a thumbs up, throat burning from the sting of alcohol coming back up. 

“You didn’t eat much today and then you went and got shit-faced with Shoko.” Suguru stated the obvious, trying not to scold you because he knew you weren’t doing good right now. “I don’t think you have anything else to puke up, do you want some water?” You lifted your head now, reaching for toilet paper to wipe your mouth. “Water sounds good.” Your voice was weaker than Suguru had expected it to sound, his heart aching a bit as he sat beside you on the bathroom floor. 

“I’ll be right back, okay? Just yell if you get scared and I’ll be by your side before you know it.” You nodded, thanking him softly as he got up and disappeared out of your bathroom. You were only seventeen at the time, acting far older than you were and thinking you could get away with it. Now, you are facing the consequences of being naive. Typical for someone your age. Suguru had returned in under two minutes, handing you a glass of room temperature water. “It’ll be easier on your stomach at this temperature.” He chuckled as you grimaced. 

He moved to grab a washcloth from your cabinet, turning the sink water on cold. “And this…” he wrung it out twice before turning off the water “will help focus your attention on something other than the nausea.” He placed the cloth on the back of your neck, watching your shoulders sag in relief as something finally cooled your clammy skin. “Thanks, Sugu.” 

~

“Sugu… I’m scared.” Your voice was barely audible, tears burning your eyes as you squeezed them shut. Somehow it was working, your pain outshining the nausea as you tried to stop yourself from sobbing in the middle of the restroom. A year had passed since that moment in time, you were only eighteen now and yet you felt as if you had grown a decade. Yet, you were reduced to a scared and crying child because of nausea. Get it together. You forced yourself to straighten, hands slightly numb under the current of cold water. 

You forced yourself to make eye contact with your reflection, observing how stark the dark circles were under your eyes. Shoko had been right, you did look a bit green, but it was fading steadily as everything subsided. You let your hands sit under the water for a minute longer before bending over the sink and splashing some on your face. The door to the restroom opened as you straightened again, Shoko was looking at you with worry. “Did you get sick?” you shook your head, turning the water off and reaching for the paper towels. 

“Managed to fight it off… for now.” 

“Satoru paid already, there is a convenient store a couple shops down. We can get you some nausea meds and a barf bag for the ride back… just in case.” You nodded, smiling a bit. “That would probably be a good idea.” you followed her out of the bathroom and through the restaurant, Satoru was standing on the sidewalk with a new cigarette between his lips. “Damn, you really did develop a new habit.” He only shrugged, inhaling deeply before blowing more out. “I’ll get over it at some point.” Knowing him and his will-power, he probably would. 

“I’ll call for the driver, Satoru take her to the convenient store and I’ll catch up.” Satoru nodded, saluting her with a quick “yes ma’am” before grabbing your hand and dragging you along. You didn’t speak until Shoko was out of earshot. “Do you think it’s going to get better?” You appreciated the weight of his hand in yours, though you were certain he could feel how clammy it was. “I think it’ll get more bearable with time.” not better, but tolerable. The thought had your chest feeling heavy as you stepped inside of the small store. 

“Nausea meds and barf bags.” Satoru chuckled, reading the signs above each aisle until he spotted one that seemed like a good start. “You’ll have to see a doctor if this doesn’t ease up… how long has it been going on anyways?” You shuffled behind him, arms crossing due to him letting them go a moment prior. “Shortly after he left, after I found the letter.” Only Satoru knew about the letter that had been left behind. How Suguru managed to get back onto campus and leave it in your dorm was beyond him. You had even let him read it, breaking his heart again. 

“Shoko!” Satoru called, noticing her walk down the aisle before you could even turn your head. “I’m not good with this stuff, what should we get?” Satoru had already grabbed a box of blue cylindrical barf bags for you but the actual meds were basically foreign to him. “I’ll handle it from here, Satoru. You can wait in the car, he should be upfront by now.” Satoru’s brows furrowed, so did yours, but the look in Shoko’s eyes had him shrugging and handing the box to you. “Alright then, I’ll see ya out there.” 

He whistled as he strolled by, your eyes narrowing on Shoko. “What’s this about?” you watched her shuffle through the shelves, picking up one and reading the box before setting it down and moving onto the next. “I don’t know what you mean.” She commented offhandedly, plucking another box and reading it before sighing. “This one should work.” She turned, handing it to you while motioning you to follow her down the aisle. You read it over, nothing out of the ordinary so you truly couldn’t figure out what made this one different from the others. 

You stopped short when Shoko did, eyes scanning the aisle and feeling your stomach drop. “Shoko–” You sighed, she was standing in front of the pregnancy tests. “Listen, I know it’s probably the last thing you want to even think about but I think you should take one.” She was grabbing a box of the cheap tests, the same test that was still residing in the trash can of your bathroom. “Shoko, it's not necessary.” You couldn't bring yourself to tell her you already took one, for some reason you couldn’t tell her it was negative either. 

“I’ll buy them, and you’ll keep them. If this nausea doesn’t subside in like two weeks, I’m forcing you to take them.” You felt your face burning, clutching the nausea meds tightly in your hands as you looked away from her. “Fine.” You sighed, head tilted at her shoes as you followed her up front to the register. Everything was placed neatly in a brown bag so nobody could see the contents. Once in the car, you popped open the barf bags just to keep one ready in the event your nausea returned full force. “I figured you would forget this.” 

You looked up to see Satoru handing you a bottle of water, your lips parting in surprise. “You know me well, Satoru. I did forget.” you took it from him, grabbing the box of nausea meds and ripping them open. You took them and sighed, gulping down water when you realized how thirsty you had been. “If we have nothing else to do today, I think I’ll take a nap.” You were aching for your bed, more tired now than you had been after any missions. “Alright but we’ll wake you up for dinner if we don’t hear from you.” Shoko smiled, cracking the window to light a cig. 

“It’s not even 11am yet.” you snorted. “Yeah but you can sleep like the dead when you really need it, if we don’t wake you, you’ll sleep straight through till tomorrow.” You opened your mouth to deny it, about to use your frequent bathroom breaks as an excuse but stopped yourself. Saying that would only confirm the very thing Shoko was suspicious of. “Alright, fine, whatever.” You resigned with a playful huff, arms crossing as you turned to look out the window. Luckily for you, you managed to make it through the ride without needing to use the bag. 

“I’ll see you later.” You called after them, waving as you headed for the dorms. They both waved back, finding shade under a tree to enjoy more of the sunny morning. You felt your shoulders sagging with each step, your social battery diminished far faster now that Suguru wasn’t always by your side. You had almost grown a bit too dependent on him, thinking he would be a constant in your life. You inhaled shakily, the brown bag crumbling between your fingers as your emotions bubbled to the surface yet again. You couldn't seem to get yourself to your dorm fast enough, hot tears slipping down your cheeks as you shoved the key in the lock. 

It came in heavy waves, making you feel weak as you could only succumb to the sadness festering in your chest. You dropped the bag by the door, kicking off your shoes and shouldering off your uniform jacket. Moving on autopilot, you drew your curtains shut and took off the rest of your clothing, sliding his shirt over your head until you were enveloped in his scent. You were gasping for air by the time your body hit the mattress, curling in on yourself as you sobbed. “I miss you.” You hiccuped, rubbing your eyes as if it would stop the tears. 

God dammit, Suguru, why did you have to do this?

You buried your head in your pillow, trying to drown out your own feelings before sadness turned to anger and you ripped your whole room apart because of it. 

~

“Stop wiggling so much.” His voice sounded like gravel, rumbling the back of your head as he spoke. “Can’t help it.” You retorted, trying your best to settle into a comfortable position. Suguru had you wrapped in a bear hug, his favorite form of affection, especially since he knew you couldn’t get out of his grasp. His arms were covered in thick muscles, something you initially didn't expect because his uniform and choice of baggy clothing typically hid them.

 You could use all your strength and his grip wouldn’t falter.  

“Why not?” he mumbled again, if you had to guess, his eyes were closed as he spoke. “Cause it’s warm, Sugu.” you were both laying on top of the covers, little to no clothing on because of the heat and the broken air conditioning that the school was still trying to fix. Nothing but an old fan swiveling side to side to create some sort of relief. Still, Suguru couldn’t sleep unless you were pressed flush to him, warm or not. “It’s not that bad.” 

“Oh it absolutely is.” you immediately countered, turning your head back to try and look at him. “It could be way worse.” he tried again, fingers thrumming against your side. “Yeah, it could, but it could also be better. Like if you let me go for example.” You wiggled a bit, trying to create space before he pulled you tightly to him again. “Nice try, it’s not happening.” You groaned, going limp in his arms as he began to laugh. “I could totally make it worse for you.” He added softly, lips ghosting your ear. Despite the heat, you shivered. 

“The weirdest things turn you on, Sugu.” 

“Hey, it’s not nice to call yourself weird.” 

You slapped his arm, earning another rumble of laughter as he moved to hover over you. “C’mon, if I make you sweat, it’ll make the breeze from the fan feel colder.” You rolled your eyes, studying his features as he looked down at you, hair framing his face and ghosting yours. “That’s counterproductive, you know.” Your hands were running up his biceps anyway, moving to wrap around his neck and pull him close to you. “Maybe it is, but you can’t say I’m wrong.” 

His head was lowering, giving into your pull with no hesitation. “You’re right, I can’t say you’re wrong. But… I want to.” You smile, pulling him further until your lips melt together. He was radiating warmth, his teeth grazing your bottom lip to ask for entrance. Your lips parted, hands snaking up into his hair and tugging at the strands until he groaned. Suguru braced himself on one hand, making the mattress dip just by your head. The rest of his weight was settled on his knees, caging your hips in so you truly couldn’t get away from him. Not that you wanted too now. 

You felt small beneath him, his bare skin radiating warmth as he used his free hand to push your shirt up. You could ignore the heat for the time being, more focused on the steady beating from between your thighs. “Sugu…” You parted with a gasp, watching him lean up and pull you with him, allowing him to drag your shirt over your head and toss it to the floor before pushing you down again. His lips didn’t return to yours, instead they moved to your neck, kissing along your pulse point until you were whining. “Quiet, baby, don’t forget we’re in my room.” 

Satoru was asleep next door, that realization set in like ice water being dumped over your head. “Suguru.” You choked as his head dipped lower, licking along your collarbone before moving to one of your breasts. He wasn’t going to answer you, and you knew that for a fact by the way his lips curled into a smirk against your skin. “You’re evil.” You gasped, hand fisting his hair tightly as he scraped his teeth along your breast, nipping at the soft skin. Your other hand found its home on his shoulder, nails scratching lightly as his muscles flexed under your grasp. 

You sunk your teeth into your cheek when his lips wrapped around your perked nipple, arousal making it pebble slightly as he sucked. Suguru’s tongue lavished your skin, flicking the bud until your back was arching into his touch. It wasn’t nearly enough, your breath coming out in short pants as you tried to pry him off and focus on your other breast. “These would look so pretty if they were full of milk.” You choked, eyes wide as he looked up at you through his lashes. “Don’t you think?” You couldn’t breathe for a moment, stunned into silence by his comment. 

“C’mon baby, don’t act so shocked.” He cooed softly, the tip of his tongue trailing up your sternum. He didn’t stop until he reached your lips, kissing them softly before dipping his head again. His hand toyed with the breast he had just teased endlessly, brown eyes observing the rate of your breathing before lowering onto your other breast. He repeated the same motions, nipping and sucking the senstive skin until you were squirming from the wetness between your legs.

“You haven't answered me, sweetheart.”

“B-because I don’t know how to answer that, Sugu.” You knew exactly what he was implying, but you couldn’t form a coherent response for him. “You just have to tell me if you agree, it’s pretty simple.” He chuckled, pushing himself up to look down at you. Your hands fell to your sides, his neck just out of your reach. “Just think about it, pretty girl.” You watched him, completely entranced as he pulled his briefs down and his erection sprang free. “Because I’ve been thinking about it a lot.” 

“You have?” You sat up a bit, fingers shakily pulling off your own underwear to save time. “I have.” He confirmed, cheeks turning a shade of red that you could see even in the moonlight. His hand slid along his length, spreading the precum drooling from his tip while his boxers rested at his mid-thigh. “Take those off, Sugu.” You smiled a bit, reaching for the waistband and pulling them taut before letting them snap back against his thigh. “So demanding.” He snorted, letting himself go to push the material off, tossing it to the floor just as you had done with your underwear. 

“So are you, demanding an answer for something so…so…” you couldn’t find the right words, not when his eyes were on you, devouring you whole. “…so what? How does it make you feel?” He redirected, pumping himself leisurely as your thighs fell open for him, still supporting yourself on your elbows as you waited. “How does what make me feel?” A stupid question but you were still reeling from the initial statement. Suguru laughed, hand still gliding over his length as he sat on his knees.

“How does it feel knowing I think about getting you pregnant… all the fucking time.” You couldn’t deny the thought made you feel hot, hotter than you felt from the heat and arousal mixing. Like molten lava was running its way through your bloodstream. “F-feels fucking…” you squirmed a bit, legs moving to close involuntarily until his hand shot out and stopped them. “Go on, pretty girl. Tell me.” You sat up, glaring at him with warm cheeks. “How about you fuck me. Then, maybe, I’ll tell you how I feel about your little fantasies.” Suguru groaned, head falling forward for a moment. 

“Sounds like a good deal to me.” He moved forward, pressing you back into the mattress as he pulled your thighs towards him. Your lips found his neck, sucking on it harshly as he ran the dull head of his cock between your slick folds. You let him move you however he pleased, your legs being pushed almost painfully to your chest as he pressed into you. You gasped in unison, his cock stretching you open easily despite no prep. “Shit…” his head fell forward again, nearly bumping yours as he bottomed out, no space left between the two of you. 

Suguru stayed in place, eyes shut as he focused on the way your walls fluttered and squeezed around him, unable to stay still. Your nails dug into his scalp, pulling a groan from his lips as you tried to relax but couldn’t. He was big, bigger than any fling or partner you had in the past. No matter how easily your cunt accepted him, it still stung for the first few seconds. You had grown to love the deep ache, the weight of him inside you, the way his tip would brush your cervix depending on the position. Like now, with your legs pressed so tightly to your body. 

“Can I move?” his voice was soft, eyes peering into your own once he gained his composure. “Y-yeah.” You breathed out, the feeling of his hands on your skin still sent shockwaves of arousal through you. Especially when his grip tightened, bracing himself on you as he drew his hips back half way before rolling into you again. You moaned, eyes squeezing shut as Suguru found his rhythm, hips meeting yours with a soft slap. “D-Don’t forget Satoru is…” You wailed softly, pleasure building quickly as he moved. “I know…” 

But the smirk on his face told you he no longer cared, he’d gladly listen to his white-haired best friend bitch and moan in the morning about being woken up by you. Suguru’s rhythm only sped up, hips angling perfectly to brush along that one particular spot as he thrust into you, cock head brushing your cervix every few thrusts until your vision was blurring. The pleasure ebbing through your body was more than enough to block out how uncomfortable your current position was. 

A wet squelch started to emit between your legs, loud enough to be heard over the drone of the fan as Suguru pounded into you. “So…” he started, voice strained as sweat dripped down his temple. “... can you tell me how it makes you feel now?” You blinked, awestruck that he was still hooked on getting an answer from you. “S-suguru…” you whined, head falling further into the pillows. “I’m not letting it go…ha… Tell me how it makes you feel.” he ground out, hips slowing just a bit. When you didn’t speak, he pressed more of his weight into you so one hand could break free. 

You moaned, loud and unrestrained as his fingers ghosted across your swollen clit, the sudden contact making you see stars. “Tell me how it makes you feel.” he repeated, watching your face go slack as his fingers and hips worked in tandem. “Makes me hot…” You admitted with a heavy breath, eyes struggling to focus on him. “I want you to do it, Sugu… fuck me till I’m pregnant.” The look on his face had you shrinking further into the mattress, an almost animalistic look taking over his eyes as he stopped moving all together. “Say it again.” 

“I want you to fuck me ‘til I’m pregnant, Suguru.”  

~

You woke up in a sweat, gasping for air as you stumbled out of bed and barreled to the bathroom. You couldn’t stop the nausea this time, knees hitting the tile floor with bruising force as you heaved into the toilet. You hadn’t even remembered falling asleep, but your dream was enough to send you into a death spiral. Tears burned your eyes as the little bit of breakfast you hadn’t digested came back up. Luckily for you, you had slept long enough that your food from this morning wasn’t a total loss. Nothing more than bile was left as you finally calmed down. 

You reached for toilet paper, wiping your tears and blowing your nose until you could at least breath without difficulty. Aching, you got up, flushing the toilet and washing your hands and face. You had no idea what time it was but you assumed it wasn’t late enough for dinner if Shoko never came to wake you up. At least that’s what you thought as you stumbled back into your dorm room slightly sweaty. That’s odd… The sun had begun to set just beyond your window, your eyes flickering to your alarm clock. 7:23pm stared back at you in big red numbers. 

I slept for over eight hours? You looked for your phone, seeing the missed text from Shoko. 

Shoko: I decided against waking you up, I figured you could use the sleep. Just text me when you’re awake and I can bring you dinner

You were partially grateful for her decision, your face still warm as your dream lingered in your mind. Dreaming of the past, how cliche. You sighed, sitting on the edge of your bed. You had woken up so suddenly, adrenaline blocking out the sleepiness at first. Now, your body seemed to thrum with a dull ache, the headrush coming back around to kick you while you were down. You reached over to turn on the small lap residing on your nightstand, eyes squinting for a moment as you adjusted. Your eyes focused on the brown bag from earlier, the one you discarded on your floor after coming back. 

You knew there was water in there still, so you got up and grabbed it, looking at the bag contents in disdain. You emptied it on your desk, nausea meds, barf bags and the box of pregnancy tests. You studied then as you gulped down some of the water, easing the burn in your throat. The pregnancy tests Shoko had insisted on were identical to the one you took this morning. Weirdly enough you wished she had grabbed the more expensive digital ones. That way you wouldn't have to strain yourself trying to figure out if a second line was present or not. 

“Fuck it.” you sighed, dropping the now empty water bottle in the small barrel you kept beside your desk. You still had one more test in the box from this morning, you’d take another one just because of the memories lingering on your mind. Your face felt warm as you recalled that particular night from a few months back. Suguru had been pretty adamant after that, fucking you raw and in ernest with every intention of knocking you up. You, stupidly, let him because you love him and loved the idea of having a family with him. “Idiot.” 

You scolded yourself again, ripping the foil wrapper and tossing it in your trash with the now empty box. You went through the same process as you did that morning, peeing into a cup and dipping the absorbent end into it for ten seconds before capping it and discarding the rest of the contents. You forced yourself to leave the bathroom this time, convinced it would make time go by faster. The text Shoko had sent was still left unanswered, you couldn’t even bring yourself to feel hungry at that moment in time. 

You’d text her in a little while though, or else she’d likely come breaking your door down thinking you had run away. Just then, your phone vibrated with the ringtone you had set for Satoru. You grabbed it, flipping it open to see what he had to say. On the screen there was a message from him, asking if you wanted to hang out on the rooftop to watch the stars later on. You smiled a bit, it was rare for Satoru to ask things so formally. You clicked out a message, telling him yes and that you could use some fresh air. 

It took him no time at all to send a happy emoticon, one that had you rolling your eyes as you typed back that you’d meet him at his dorm when you were ready. You backed out of the chat, eyes lingering on a particular contact, your message to him was naturally left unanswered. You had given up texting Suguru’s number when the messages no longer got delivered. You figured he’d discard his phone, throw away any direct contact he had with the three of you. You snapped your phone shut a moment later, you’d text Shoko after you got dressed.

Opening your closet was still proving to be a bit difficult, especially as your fingers trailed over the material of the clothing Suguru had kept in your room. They smelt like the laundry detergent he used as well as his cologne, it took your breath away for a moment. You forced yourself away, grabbing some comfortable clothes that were actually yours before shutting the door. You didn’t think you’d ever be able to discard his clothing, despite knowing he wasn’t coming back to you. 

You pulled his shirt over your head, grabbing your own and replacing it. You pulled on a pair of shorts after, rubbing your face with your hands as you looked at your appearance in the mirror. No amount of sleep seemed to help the dark circles under your eyes or the sickly look to your complexion. You could only hope Satoru was right, with time it would become more manageable. You glanced at your alarm clock, 7:48pm stared back at you now. The sky outside your window had turned indigo, the sun minutes away from being completely out of sight. The summer was coming to an end, filling your chest with melancholy.

You couldn’t stand being alone in that moment, grabbing your phone and shoving it in your pocket as you made a beeline for your door. You made your way down the hall, remembering as you passed Shoko’s dorm that you needed to text her. Stopping in your tracks, you figured it would just be easier to see her in person. “Shoko?” you called, fingers tapping the door softly because she hated when people knocked too loud. “Coming.” You heard her rustling around her room before the door opened, a half smoked cigarette hanging from her lips. 

“Thought Yaga told you no smoking inside.”  

“What he doesn’t know won’t kill him, and my window is open.” 

You smiled, “I’m hanging out with Satoru on the roof if you wanna join us.” Shoko exhaled, puffing just a bit of smoke in your direction. “I’d love to but I spent the whole afternoon with him ‘cause you were sleeping.” You sighed, rubbing the back of your neck “my bad.” but Shoko was waving you off. “Don’t apologize, you need sleep… I’ll trust Satoru to feed you if you’re hungry.” She smiled as you rolled your eyes “Alright alright, enjoy the rest of your bad habit and I’ll take Satoru duty.” The look in Shoko’s eyes made your smile falter for just a moment. 

They looked oddly wistful, but it vanished just as quickly as your smile faltered. “Aye aye captain.” Shoko started to shut the door as you turned to leave, watching you go for just a moment before shutting it completely. “Satoru.” You drawled, banging on his door so you could be heard over the music he was playing. “Oi, keep it down!” the door swung open a moment later, a cheeky grin on his face as he looked at you. “Ready to go?” He looked cozy in an oversized black hoodie and sweats, sunglasses resting on top of his head. 

“Sure am.” you returned his smile, the ache in your chest easing just a bit. It was more bearable when you had someone who understood the pain you felt deeper than surface level. You watched him turn, shutting off his music and the lights before stepping into the hallway. “Are we going to take the normal way or are you going to test out your blue?” Satoru’s eyes seemed to sparkle as you suggested he use his curse technique. “If you insist on blue…” You couldn’t even make a sound as his arm wrapped around your waist, hauling you off of your feet. 

In the blink of an eye, you were exposed to the cooling night air. “Damn.” You laughed as he set you down, shuffling over to the small lock box you kept up here with spare blankets and, as Shoko claimed, “necessities”...Which were just two cartons of emergency cigarettes. “Didn’t disorient you, right?” Satoru was standing on the edge, observing the glow of the city in the distance. “Not even a little, you’ve improved a lot, Satoru.” your back was turned to him, so you missed the way his eyes widened slightly, cheeks turning pink. 

“Thanks” 

You turned back to him, blankets in hand. “So…” You walked over to where he was standing, taking a seat just before the edge and letting your legs dangle off. “...So?” Satoru looked down at you, watching you settle. “Why did you want to come up here… I’d love to gaze at the stars but it’s not like we’ll actually see any with all the light pollution.” Satoru sighed, dropping down to squat beside you. “I guess I just wanted your company… ya know since you’re probably the only other person that understands this.” his tone was awkward, it wasn’t often that you were sentimental… or serious for that matter… with each other. 

“Your welcome to have my company any time, Satoru. I don’t know what I’d do if I didn’t have you.” It was so heartfelt it made you feel strange. “Sorry.” You added, a bit meeker than before when he stiffened a bit. “Don’t be sorry, just not used to being so… serious with you.”  He sat fully now, shoulder brushing yours as a silent invitation for you to rest your head. You did, just as you always had, watching the lights of the city a few miles away. “It’s strange, isn’t it?” You spoke in a gentle tone, hoping he knew what you meant. 

“It is. Knowing he’s there, that he’s okay… while we’re sitting here sulking like idiots.” There was a small bite to his tone as he finished, one that quickly left when he exhaled. “It pisses me off.” It made you upset too, anger bubbling in the back of your mind like a pot of boiling water that was going to overflow at any second. “It pisses me off too, because I truly can’t understand it. I’ve killed myself over the last three weeks trying to understand, to make sense of it. I can’t and I don’t think I ever will. But it’s not my place to reason with it, you know?” 

Satoru was silent, waiting for you to continue. “It’s not my life, it’s his. I tried for months to get it out of him, I tried so goddamn hard to get him to open up and he never did. Always redirecting, always avoiding.” You sounded defeated by the end, blinking away the tears that blurred your vision so you could regain composure. “Why didn’t you come to me?” Satoru questioned softly, letting your words sink in like an anchor. 

“He gave you so many signs, Satoru. If you couldn’t see them, it wasn’t my place to assist.” 

Satoru felt like that should have made him angry, but it didn’t. Mostly because you were right, it had been obvious from the start but he had naively pushed them to the side, pretending it wasn’t true. He was just as much at fault, if anything he was willing to shoulder all of the blame. Because at least you tried. He couldn’t say the same, and he knew that far too well. “Suguru made up his mind the moment he entered that village. There is no stopping a man who is set in their resolve. You said it yourself, Satoru. He looked healthier, happier, content.” 

Satoru took in a shaky breath, leaning into you just as you leaned into him. “I just don’t get why he needed to kill his parents.” Your eyes closed, that was the thought weighing heaviest on your mind. “He needed to prove to himself that he was doing the right thing. That nobody, not even his parents, were an exception to his newfound ideology.” It killed you to say it, especially since you had met his parents last winter break. They were kind, at least his mother was. His father was a bit colder but there was still an undeniable love for his son. They had welcomed you so openly, they were proud of the son they had raised. 

Now they were gone, nobody but Suguru was to blame. 

“In a fucked up way, I don’t care that he killed those people.” The words felt bitter on your tongue, but his letter flashed through your mind and for a moment you understood him. Those two little girls, beaten and caged, scared and facing death for things they never did. Hell, had you gone on the mission with him, you may have encouraged his choices. That realization felt weird as it settled in your gut. “I… I don’t really care either.” Satoru admitted softly, thinking back over the last year, thinking about Amanai. He had been seconds away from doing the same thing. 

But Suguru had been his voice of reason, stopping him with a simple command. It should have been obvious then, that Suguru’s life was completely altered from that moment forward. “It was so obvious.” He hissed softly, head falling forward just a bit as anger squeezed his heart. “There is nothing we can do now, Satoru. Nothing we can do will reverse the damage that has been done.” You wished you could believe your own words, part of you wanted to catch a train into the city and barrel into that religious group he took over. 

You weren’t even sure what you’d do if you did. Hit him, yell at him? Crumple into his arms like the sucker you were. Maybe a mix of all three, no, it would definitely be a mix of all three. You couldn’t help but wonder how he would react if he saw you again. He made it clear in his letter that he loved you, he still loved you, he would always love you. If you made the choice to leave, would he welcome you in with open arms. Or was he resenting you already for not doing so sooner. Was he waiting for you? Or was it nothing more than sweet-talk. 

“You’re not breathing.” Satoru muttered softly, tilting his head just a bit to look down at you. “Oh…” You inhaled deeply, laughing a bit  as you exhaled “got lost in thought.” You felt Satoru relax again, head resting against yours. “I get it.” You fell into a comfortable silence, watching as the sky steadily turned from a deep blue to pitch black. There, if you squint hard enough, you could make out a couple of sparkling stars. 

You knew if you asked, Satoru could probably whisk you somewhere far away. Somewhere clear so you could actually see the stars with no obstructions. 

Yet you were too comfortable, too warm. 

Sitting where you were now was more than enough for the time being. That feeling of content actually took the air from your lungs for a moment, blinking steadily as you took in your surroundings. There was a fleeting moment where your heart felt light, that aching heaviness that had been plaguing it for the last three weeks wasn’t present. You wondered quietly if Satoru felt it too. Given the way his body seemed completely relaxed into yours, you assumed he did. 

~

You were stumbling down the hall like a drunkard. Your mind felt numb as you moved, head tilted down and expression blank. If anyone were to cross your path at that given moment, they probably would have been unsettled by the sight of you. A zombie moving on autopilot, your brain moving so quickly that it had reduced everything to a quiet, droning buzz. 

Murder. 112 people. His parents too. He’s gone. He snapped. He’s a murderer. Suguru is gone. 

Nothing made sense, not a single bit of the information you had received made any sense. The fact that Suguru wasn’t answering your frequent texts wasn't making sense. The fact that you had woken up to an empty bed wasn’t making sense. The fact that people were telling you Suguru, your Suguru, had taken over a hundred lives in the span of one night wasn’t making any fucking sense. 

Your knees nearly gave out the moment your hand met the wood of your door, pushing it open so quickly it slammed into the wall with a loud thud before coming back at you. Not that you cared, at that moment you could be set on fire and you wouldn’t blink an eye. 

You stood in the middle of your dorm room, eyes scanning the room as if it were something foreign. Nothing was making sense, not even your bed looked like your own. It was the pressure cracking down on you already, sinking its claws into your shoulders and forcing you to your knees as the weight of your new reality hit you like a freight train. You couldn’t even bring yourself to cry in that moment, too shell shocked over the report Yaga had read to you and Satoru. 

Satoru. 

You had stumbled away shortly after the report was finished, barely registering the way he had started to yell. You hadn’t looked back, but it wasn’t like either of them tried to stop you. Despite having just stumbled away from him, you found yourself moving to leave and find him again. At least you would have if your knees didn’t give out on you. You gasped, more out of surprise than pain as your legs made contact with the wooden floor. You sat there for a moment, arms feeling equally as weak as you pushed yourself into a sitting position. 

You felt your chest tighten, every breath felt strangled as you tried to inhale. A cold sweat seemed to cover your skin, fingers shaking slightly as you pushed your hair from your face. You couldn’t move, completely paralyzed by shock. It felt like your heart was shattering, every shaky inhale deepening the wound. Still, your tears would not come. Not even as black spots began to obstruct your vision, chest heaving as you began to hyperventilate. 

Despite your body vibrating in distress, you felt a nearly silent calm. Like someone had flicked off the switch and stole your ability to hear.

Nothing and everything all at once. 

~

“Hey? Y/N wake up…” You jumped a bit, hand coming up to touch the wetness on your cheeks. “You were crying in your sleep.” Satoru muttered softly, hand smoothing over your hair as he cradled you. “I-I was?” You didn’t even realize the change in position or the change in scenery. You were no longer sitting by the roof’s edge, instead you were sitting in Satoru’s lap, his arms holding you tightly as he looked at you with worry. 

“You were.” he confirmed, letting you go just as you woke up fully. “Sorry for worrying you, I was just thinking about him… it’s so strange. I’ve been having such intense dreams of the past… I've had dreamless sleep for the last three weeks… so why now?” Satoru sighed, watching you get up to stand and stretch your limbs. “I don’t know. I’ve been having odd dreams about him but I don’t really remember how most of them go by the time I wake up.”

“It’s the universe’s way of torturing us… as if we haven’t been tortured enough. Wait, how long have I been asleep?” The temperature had dropped significantly, the moon was shining high in the sky now. “About an hour or so, I was actually going to bring you back inside but you started to cry and… well here we are now.” Satoru got up, stretching dramatically as you sighed. “You’d think after sleeping for eight hours I wouldn't be tired.” 

You walked to the edge of the roof again, feet pressing firmly to the ledge as you looked down. “Being depressed will suck the soul out of you.” For some reason you couldn’t help but laugh. “You seem pretty wide awake, Satoru.” He joined you on the ledge, pushing you a bit to the side. Your training gave you quick reflexes so you didn’t flinch when he did it. “Oh please, you know I’m right.” You glanced at him, laughing softly. 

“You are, but so am I. We can be depressed morons together.” His voice was dripping with sarcasm, earning another laugh as you punched his shoulder. “Touche, Gojo” 

“Yuck, never call me that again.” His face had morphed into a scowl as you used his last name. He never liked hearing you call him anything other than Satoru. “Fine.” you crossed your arms over your chest, inhaling the cool air. “I think I’m gonna go shower and maybe make something small for dinner… Just so Shoko doesn’t string the two of us up on a lamppost.” Satoru nodded, watching you step off the ledge and move about the roof to put the blankets away. 

“I’ll accompany you.” he jumped down, trailing behind you as you moved to open the door that would bring you downstairs. “In the shower? I’m flattered but–” the way his eyes rolled were enough to stop you mid-sentence. “Joking, Satoru.” he sighed out an “I know” closing the distance to haul you up. “Using the stairs is boring.” Within the blink of an eye, you were back inside and standing in front of your dorm room. 

“Text me when you’re done showering and we can go get food.” 

You nodded, one of the perks of attending school in Tokyo was the fact that the city never slept. You could go find a place to eat at three in the morning and they’d still serve you hot food. Your body sagged against the door of your dorm after shutting it. Flicking on the lights lit the room in a warm, golden glow. For the last three years you considered your room a sanctuary, it was your happy place after a long day of training. Now, it feels oddly cold. 

You walked over to your dresser, pulling the top drawer open to grab a fresh pair of underwear and pajamas for after. You tossed them on your bed, reaching down for your bottom drawer to grab a particular towel you liked. It didn’t take you long to put your hair up, not in the mood to wash it just yet, and head to the bathroom. You squinted a bit as the nearly white fluorescent lights filled the room, if you had your way you’d change them to something softer. 

It took all of five seconds for your world to come crashing down around you again, eyes zeroing in on the pregnancy test sitting on your counter. I fucking forgot about it…

You set your towel down on the counter, holding your breath as you took the step and reached for the test. You gave yourself no time to prepare, eyes scanning the results once before it hit you like a ton of bricks. You dropped it, letting it clatter on the porcelain counter as a jagged sob ruptured from your chest. Your hand came up to cover your mouth, the other resting on your chest, your heart thumping so wildly you were certain it would burst. 

There, on the test, were two lines. It was positive. 

You nearly fell forward, dropping down to the trash can beside your sink and rummaging through it without hesitation. Your fingers wrapped around the plastic test from this morning, yanking it up and looking at the results again. There, on the initial test from that morning, were two lines. You didn’t drop it this time, eyes staring at the results as if they’d change. Positive, this whole time it had been positive. You just hadn’t let the first test develop long enough. 

“When… How…” You uttered softly, the logical part of your brain screaming at you to be realistic for a second rather than acting so surprised. The irrational side of your brain was still reeling from the revelation. As if Suguru hadn’t been adamant in trying to knock you up for months. “You fucking bastard… you get your way and leave me with the aftermath.” You were struggling, there was no way you’d be able to pinpoint when it happened until you found out how far along you were. For some reason, that was what made reality really set in. 

Hot tears streaked your face, sobbing so harshly that it felt like your lungs would collapse on you. You moved in a blur, legs carrying you out of your dorm and down the hall until you were pushing open Satoru’s door. “Woah there, sounds like someone’s hun…” He looked up, the teasing tone in his voice dropping immediately when he saw the tears streaming down your face. “What the fuck happened? Are you hurt?” Satoru crossed the room in two long strides, hands cupping your face as your lips wobbled. 

You couldn’t get the words out, crying harder as he ran his hands over you searching for some type of wound. “C’mon, what happened?” His tone had more of a bite to it than he intended but you were causing panic to seep through his veins. You couldn’t breathe, legs nearly buckling under the weight of your reality. Satoru seemed to catch this, hands shooting out to support you as he brought both of you to the floor. “Y/N, please.” he urged you, throat feeling tight. 

You shook your head, still sobbing as you raised your hand meekly, the positive pregnancy test out in the open for him to see. Blue eyes widened significantly when he saw it, he didn’t even need to see the two lines to understand why you were so hysterical. “Oh…oh.” he swallowed, hand shakily taking the test from your hand to look at it. “Oh fuck.” it was just barely above a whisper, arm holding you just a little tighter as you cried into his chest. 

At least part of you was aware of the possibility, Satoru on the other hand felt completely blindsided. “You two didn’t use protection?” He uttered softly, rocking you slightly without thinking as your cries continued, you couldn’t think at that moment, unable to calm yourself down. You managed to shake your head in response, unable to feel embarrassed as you admitted to not using condoms when with Suguru. “Fuck… did you ever use protection with him?” 

He knew the answer, of course he fucking knew the answer. Suguru was utterly obsessed with you, so in love it was nearly nauseating. You shook your head again, confirming that you’d never once used protection with him. “Hey… c’mon…” he started softly when your body shook with the force of your cries but you were no longer making any sounds. He wanted to say it would be alright but he wasn’t sure if it would be. 

That answer relied on you. 

He couldn’t expect you to be alright, you had your heart broken three weeks prior by the man who often talked about proposing to you as soon as you all graduated. If those were the kind of conversations Suguru was having with him, he couldn’t imagine the conversations Suguru had been having with you. Well, that was a bit of a lie. Considering your reaction to the test results, it seemed this was a long sought after goal. Your cries were from heartbreak, not fear. 

~

“I’ve been looking at rings.” Satoru glanced up, noodles dangling half way from his lips. “Hah?” He watched Suguru grimace a bit, some broth splattering as Satoru questioned him. “I’ve been looking at rings for Y/N.” Suguru stated again, a little more cautiously now, watching Satoru slurp the rest of the noodles into his mouth. “Suguru, we haven’t even entered our third year.” 

“I know, but…” he shrugged, unable to formulate the right way to say it. “...But? You’re not even eighteen yet, neither is she.” It wasn’t that Satoru didn’t think it was okay, he just figured you were both way too young to even fathom those things. “I don’t intend on proposing to her until we’ve graduated. Listen I know it seems fast but…” Suguru's hands fidgeted with his utensils for a moment, eyes avoiding Satoru until he was ready.

“I love her, Satoru. I didn’t even think it was possible to love someone as much as I love her.” 

Satoru blinked, a bit taken back by such a bold declaration over a bowl of cheap ramen. “I’m not doubting that you love her, Suguru. I just think it’s a bit crazy to think about these things so young.” Suguru sighed, watching Satoru with weary eyes as he moved to eat more noodles. 

“We’re sourcers, Satoru. A long life isn’t guaranteed.” 

~

“Breathe, please. You’re going to pass out.” Satoru’s hand was slapping your back as you coughed, the tears had finally begun to slow but you still weren’t able to form a coherent sentence. “Please…” he tried again, watching you try your best to take a deep breath. It was followed by another, this time it wasn’t superficial. After a couple more, you were able to rub the tears from your eyes and look at him without blurry vision. 

“S-satoru I’m so so-sorry.” you hiccuped, your throat feeling raw from your crying. “You have nothing to apologize for, stop feeling like you have to apologize for everything you do.” he let you go a bit, motioning for you to get up with him and sit on his bed rather than the floor. He watched you crawl under his covers, curling up against his pillows, sniffling softly. Despite the weight of the conversation you were about to have, Satoru couldn’t help but chuckle. 

He crawled onto his bed as well, sitting beside you but above the covers. “So… I guess the best place to start is… how did this happen. By that I mean, was it intentional?” You sighed, toying with the end of his pillow case as you spoke. “Suguru had been trying to get me pregnant for months now.” You felt warmth flood your cheeks, it felt awkward admitting something like that. “I knew the bastard had a breeding kink.” Satoru said it more to himself than you, but that didn’t stop the shrill yell of his name as you slapped his arm. 

“I’m being honest! He just seemed like the type.” Satoru shrugged, holding back laughter as you rolled your eyes and settled back into sulking. “I shouldn’t be so blindsided by this, but it’s fucking ironic that he got what he wanted after he fucking left me… us.” you corrected softly, feeling selfish for being so focused on yourself when Satoru was hurting too. “The universe knows how to play cruel jokes, I’ve thought that my whole life. But, that’s beside the point. We can’t sit here and sulk over it, we need to talk about what to do next.” 

You looked up at Satoru, eyes red from crying. It hurt his heart, you looked like a kicked puppy. In that moment he realized how heavily he relied on Suguru, because even now he found himself itching to grab his phone and call him for advice. What was worse, you were now looking to him for help, when really he was just as scared as you. “The next logical step is I need to find a doctor who can run a blood test and confirm the store bought tests are accurate. After that, they need to tell me how far along I am so I can pinpoint when this happened.”

Satoru nodded, you’d both have to fill in Shoko in the morning, she’d be able to help with all the medical bits. “I… I know this seems a bit invasive so please don’t take offense… but are you going to keep it?” Satoru fidgeted a bit, eyes watching as you seemed to zone out and think. Your initial answer was yes, of course, but were you really capable of raising a baby on your own? Then again, you didn’t think you could stomach giving them away for adoption, and you certainly didn’t want to get rid of them. Not after you chased this goal for months, regardless of the way things were right now. “Yeah, as terrifying as it is, I want this baby, Satoru.” 

“Okay, so we got two of the biggest things out of the way. Now, the hardest…” you huffed as he trailed off, you weren’t entirely sure you were ready to answer the next question. “What do we do about Suguru, that’s what you’re going to say, right?” It was Satoru’s turn to huff now, nodding as he looked away from you to stare at his hands.

“He… he needs to know.” 

“No the fuck he doesn’t.” 

You both stared at each other, completely scandalized by the other’s response. “Satoru… He needs to know… he…he’s the fucking dad? How am I supposed to jus–” Satoru shook his head, hands coming up to rub his face before letting them fall back to his lap. “Suguru is a fucking criminal now, he murdered people. Hundreds of people I should fucking remind you and you just want to waltz back into his fucking life and tell him that shit?” You sat up now, eyes burning holes into his skull as you waited for him to at least look at you. “Do you hear yourself?” 

You were seething, that same anger you held for Suguru leaving was now bubbling at Satoru for uttering his name like it was pure filth. Satoru stiffened, eyes turning to glare at you. But, every ounce of anger seemed to drain from his body when he saw nothing but hurt glowing in your tired and puffy eyes. “I fucking get it, Satoru. I know what Suguru did but fuck, how am I supposed to just get over him? How am I supposed to carry his child for nine months and push it out of my body just to raise it on my fucking own and never tell him? He’s the one that wanted this in the first place!” Tears glossed your eyes over, hands shaking as they fisted in his sheets.

His mouth opened before closing again, eyes looking away from you because he knew he'd never be able to try and talk sense into you when you looked at him like that. “And what if the child is unable to see curses?” he sounded defeated. “What then, Y/N? What if you give birth to this baby and they lack the ability to see them? That baby would be the very thing Suguru hates.” You froze, it felt like someone had poured ice water down the back of your neck. “If he didn’t spare his own parents, he won’t spare his own child.” Satoru swallowed, looking like he wanted to say so much more but didn’t. He let the words hang there, heavy and dark. 

The silence stretched on between the two of you, mostly because you knew he was right. Just because both parents had the ability to see into the curse world and use curse energy, it didn’t guarantee that their offspring would also carry the same blessing. You blinked, hand subconsciously moving to rest over your stomach, as if it would do anything to protect them. “Suguru he… he wouldn’t…” Your words were weak and at that moment Satoru couldn’t bring himself to really fight with you. “But he would, y/n that’s the fucking issue, he would.” his voice was breaking, unsure if he should say what he wanted to say next. 

“Then what am I going to do?” You were going to dissolve, tears burning your eyes again as the harsh reality began to sink in. “Let me help you, let me help you raise the baby. I can easily provide for the two of you.” He turned to look at you now, eyes burning with such intensity it stole the air from your lungs. “What?” you hadn’t meant for it to sound offended, you were shocked to say the least, but still the hurt that flashed through his features made you feel the urge to reach out and hug him. “Satoru I didn’t mean for it to come out so harsh…” You moved forward, arms wrapping tightly around his neck and hugging him. 

It took a second but his arms came up to wrap around your middle, holding you tightly. “It’s okay, it was a bold statement to make so suddenly.” he soothed you when really you felt that you  should be the one soothing him. “No it’s fine, really it just caught me by surprise and…” you hugged him a little tighter, burying your face in his neck. For a moment you nearly stiffened, that was something you usually did to seek comfort from Suguru. In that moment, you couldn’t bring yourself to pull away, finding comfort in Satoru’s reassuring embrace. “You don’t have to answer me tonight.” He hushed you, hand coming up to smooth your hair as he kept you close. “I doubt you have an appetite now, how about we just sleep?” 

“I still need to shower.” You pulled away, laughing softly when you remembered what you had been in the process of doing before your world flipped. “Okay, then go and shower but please come back to me when you’re done.” His tone was quiet, something in it held no room for you to disagree. So, you let go of him reluctantly, nodding as you crawled over him to stand. “Again, you don’t have to answer me tonight, or tomorrow, or even next week. But please, think about what I said.” He stayed on his bed, watching you shakily grab the pregnancy test before heading for his door. “I will, Satoru. Keep my spot warm.” you smiled at him over your shoulder, heart still heavy as you disappeared through the open door. 

The hot water on your skin wasn’t enough to wash away the dread growing in your chest. You found your hands absentmindedly running along your abdomen, still finding it hard to believe something was there, something that would grow into a living breathing human in a few months time. A mix of you and Suguru, how strange. This wasn’t how you imagined it would happen, nor were these the feelings you expected to experience when the time came. If anything, it made you more upset. You should be happy, you should be fucking estatic. You should be basking in the euphoric state of knowing you’d be having a child with the man you adored. 

Instead, you had sobbed in the arms of his best friend, completely hysterical. And the man you loved had no idea you were even pregnant, that the very thing he wanted had been achieved and he wouldn’t even get to know. At least not yet. You had taken Satoru’s words into consideration, of course you did. But in the back of your mind, you knew there was no way you’d be able to go on with your life without ever telling Suguru. He would know, he would know of his child, you were already set on that. You twisted the knob, the water turning off a second later as you got out and dried yourself off a bit before wrapping the towel around you. 

Your body was aching from the events of the last few hours. Returning to Satoru’s room and sleeping in his warm bed sounded like heaven to you. Sleeping next to someone again felt like heaven to you. You had to wonder what Suguru would think if he knew you were sharing his best friend’s bed – albeit nothing sexual was occuring between the two of you. And even then, Suguru had broken up with you in that letter, you were technically no longer his. The thought made you feel sick as you reached for the clothing you had laid on your bed. You pulled the shorts on first, reaching for the oversized shirt second, trying to ignore the nausea building in your gut. 

You moved around your room without thinking, flicking the lights off before heading out the door and back down the hall. Satoru had changed into his own pajamas, hair damp from the shower he must have taken while you went to take yours. He only had his bedside lamp on, the pace beside him vacant and waiting for you. “Are you sure you don’t want food?” he questioned softly as you shut the door behind you. “I’ll eat a good breakfast if my morning sickness allows.” Those words felt foreign, referring to your nausea as morning sickness felt so bizarre. “Alright but if you wake up in the middle of the night starving don’t hesitate to wake me up.”

You laughed softly, huffing out an “okay” as you crawled over him and under the covers once more. Satoru pulled the blankets up over both of you before reaching over and flicking off the light. “Goodnight.” he spoke softly, settling into his bed as you rolled onto your side to get comfortable. “Night, Satoru.” You whispered back, eyes already feeling heavy, the comfort his bed offered was no match for the gnawing reality you were facing. For now, you were thankful for it. 

~

“Think fast!” You laughed, hurtling one of the poles directly in Satoru’s direction. He turned, using infinity to block it just before it hit his face. “Nice! Your reflexes are getting faster.” You picked up another weapon, Suguru was watching you intently, an easy smile on his face. “Sugu!” You called, aiming to throw another pole. “Think fast.” you repeated, arm going back before using every ounce of strength to beeline it straight at him. Suguru smiled, summoning a curse easily to deflect it. “Not bad.” you winked, watching him roll his eyes as the curse disappeared.

“Y’all are gross.” Satoru drawled, pushing his glasses up his nose. “We didn’t even say anything?” Suguru countered, stepping out of the shade and into the sun. “You don’t need to say anything, the tension is almost unbearable.” Shoko chimed, twirling her lighter around her fingers as she watched the three of you. This time you couldn’t help but laugh, letting Suguru close the distance and wrap an arm around your waist. “See, gross!” Satoru sighed dramatically as you kissed Suguru’s cheek. “It’s called being in love, something you wouldn’t get, Satoru.” You stuck your tongue out at him, laughing as he rolled his eyes. 

“Well if you’re gonna be all gross and lovey with one another, go do it in private.” 

“Okay.” 

You and Suguru spoke in unison, a shrill laugh leaving you as he bent down and hauled you up and over his shoulder. Naturally Shoko faked a gagging noise, watching as he carried you away with a smile. “They’re so gross.” Satoru commented again, eyes following the two of you until you were completely out of sight. Though, he couldn't deny the small smile tugging at his lips. 

“Suguru.” you slapped his back lightly, he was still carrying you over his shoulder even after entering the dorm buildings. “Hmm?” he paid you no mind as he climbed the stairs, his end destination would be your dorm room… more specifically your bed. “You can put me down now.” You knew he wouldn’t, so you opted for running your hands along his back, feeling his steps falter for a moment before composing himself. “I’ll put you down when I’m good and ready.” 

You rolled your eyes, playfully swatting at his ass. “Alright, that's it. You’re getting punished.” His words were very matter-of-fact, so much so that you couldn’t help but burst out laughing. “Okay dad.” Suguru didn’t miss a beat, stalking down the hallway towards your dorm room. “Yeah, I’m trying to become one so it would help me out if you cooperated.” You made a strangled noise, it had been three weeks since Suguru admitted to wanting to get you pregnant. Needless to say, he wasn’t giving up any time soon. 

“You just want a reason to fuck me.” You tried to counter, jumping a bit as he pushed into your dorm room and kicked the door closed behind him. “I don’t need a reason to fuck you, baby.” You couldn't describe the noise you made, whiplash taking over as he tossed you onto your bed. “I guess that’s true…” You pushed up on your elbows, watching him pull his white shirt up and over his head, knocking his hair out of his bun in the process. “You’ll be good for me right?” He was dropping to his knees before you, a gentle plea of his name leaving your lips.

“Atta girl.” he murmured, warm fingers hooking in the waistband of your shorts and pulling them down. You watched him with parted lips, watching the way his eyes observed you. “Already wet? How fucking filthy.” his hands splayed along your thighs, pushing them wide open so he could really look at you. “Just because I picked you up? Or maybe it was from wrapping my arms around your waist?” He teased, pulling one hand from your thigh to spread your cunt open instead. “Tell me, pretty girl… what has you so worked up already?” 

“All of it.” You’re breathless as you look at him, no shame in your eyes as you admit how badly you want him. Suguru smiled, fingers keeping you spread as he watched the arousal pool at your entrance. “All of it, hmm? I make you that horny?” His tone was light but the look in his eyes was anything but. You could feel him devouring you whole. “Yeah, you fucking do.” You tried to keep your hips still, praying he’d do something other than watch you grow wetter by the second. “Tell me something, would you?” he pulled his eyes away to meet yours. 

“Anything.” You comment softly, waiting to hear what he had to say. Suguru smiled, fighting the urge to reach up and tuck some of your hair behind your ear. “Tell me what you want me to do to you.” His voice was barely a whisper, pupils blown wide as he looked at you. You audibly groan, face feeling warm as your head falls back. “Eat me out, Suguru.” You drawl, no longer embarrassed by the things he makes you say. “As you wish.” He couldn’t even tease you for such an honest answer. Suguru’s head dipped lower, tongue licking up your inner thighs, teeth grazing the skin eagerly. 

“Sugu…” You whined out, his lips growing closer to your aching cunt. “... can I suck you off after?” 

Suguru’s whole body jolted as you uttered those words, mouth moving to lick and suck along your folds as his honest answer. You took that as a yes. You couldn’t help but squirm as his hands began kneading the flesh of your thighs, all the while his tongue was lapping at your cunt. Each movement sent electricity up your spine, one hand shakily reaching out to hold his head as his lips wrapped around your pulsating clit. “Oh fuck… Suguru…” you were embarrassed by how quickly he had learned to make you cum, the pressure already building in your gut. 

He didn’t slow, rather he slipped two fingers into your slick entrance and scissored them in time with his sucking. He loved to put on a show for you, going as far as to slurp your juices just so he could hear you cry out. You couldn’t think straight when his tongue was wiggling against your clit, stopping every few seconds to suck until your back arched. Suguru continued this until he felt your fingers tighten in his hair, pulling harsh as your moans turned into breathy gasps. He pulled away with a slick pop, smiling deviously as your head shot up to glare at him. “Suguru!” You wailed, letting go of his hair angrily. 

“Not yet, I don’t want you coming yet.”  

“No fucking fair!” you whined, head falling back against the mattress in defeat. “So selfish.” Suguru laughed as he pushed himself off the floor, now making a show of pulling the rest of his clothing off. “There goes your chances at getting head.” you chided, watching as that shit eating grin remained on his lips. “You think this is funny!” you whined again, the echoes of your denied orgasm making you close your thighs to try and alleviate the pressure. Suguru watched you, cock throbbing as he kicked his pants off the rest of the way and tossed them to the side. 

“I do think it’s funny, mostly because you look so cute when you’re so worked up.” his hands wrapped around himself, pumping languidly as you spread your thighs again, eager for more. Suguru smirked, always defiant until his cock was out. “Nah baby, I don’t think you deserve this right now.” he continued to stroke himself, head falling back just a bit as his own aching arousal was finally being relieved. “Sugu…” you choked out in a hushed whisper, mouth watering as he let out a breathy sigh, fingers toying with the sensitive tip. You were regretting your earlier statement. 

“Sugu…” you spoke softly, watching him lift one leg to plant his foot on the mattress, hand still gliding along his shaft as his jaw slackened. He ignored you, continuing to get himself off. He was waiting for you to do something, that realization had you pushing yourself up, pulling your shirt up and over your head and tossing it to the ground. You pulled your legs off the side of the bed, maneuvering yourself until you sat on your knees before him. “Let me suck you off.” breathless, hands folded neatly on your lap as you waited for his response. 

Suguru smiled at you, watching the mattress move as your hips squirmed. “I thought you said the chances of me getting head were gone.” he teased, hand massaging just before the head of his cock, making his own voice falter as he spoke to you. “I never said that.” which was kind of true, you didn’t say those exact words. Suguru cocked an eyebrow, unable to maintain his stern demeanor as your tongue moved to wet your lips, eyes completely focused on his fist. “Please, your hand is so boring Suguru, especially when you could have my mouth.” you tried again, eyes sliding up his torso, admiring the dips and plains of his muscles. 

“When you put it like that, it’s hard to say no.” he murmured softly, letting his cock go. You scooted closer, until your knees were nearly off the edge of the mattress. “Thank you.” You whispered softly, watching his face flush a shade of pink, eyes quickly looking away from you to try and regain some sort of composure. The first touch was always enough to make him weak in the knees, your tongue gliding gently over his weeping tip before lowering to the underside of his shaft. He met your eyes, face still flushed as you looked at him with such adoration. All the while your mouth was doing sinful things to him, your duality was enough to induce whiplash. 

His fingers came up to rake through your hair, guiding you as your jaw slackened, head moving to engulf him in the wet heat your mouth had to offer. “Oh fuck…” Suguru choked when you didn’t stop moving, throat constricting as your nose brushed the unruly mess of black hair at his base. You held yourself there, drool dripping down your chin as your cheeks hollowed. Slowly you dragged yourself back, watching the shiny coat of saliva covering his shaft in your wake. You repeated those motions, finding a comfortable place to bob your head at, his length heavy on your tongue. “So good for me… fuck you’re so good for me… I don’t know what I did to deserve you…” 

You merely hummed, ignoring the slow but steady ache building in your jaw as your hand moved along his shaft. You could tell he was starting to really feel it, his cock twitching every few motions, head tilted back as his eyes fluttered shut. You had to admit you were impressed he managed to stay on his feet. Most times, when Suguru dared to eat you out while you were standing, you were nearly a dead weight in his grasp by the end. The only thing keeping you up was the wall he stuffed you against and his shoulders because he tossed your legs over them. You stopped when you felt him twitching violently, jaw clenched tight as his head shot forward to look down at you.

“Gonna make me cum, pretty girl.” He choked out, hands cupping your cheeks to guide you as you moved your head again. Your hands shot out, holding his thighs tightly as you let him use your head how he pleased, guiding you to a pace that made your eyes water before he stilled all together. You forced yourself to relax as Suguru spilled down your throat, letting you greedily swallow all of it before pulling off of him with a lewd pop. “Fuck…” he nearly fell into the bed, dick still hard as he crawled onto the matress with you. “How about we do this…” he sounded breathless, laying on his side and guiding you to do the same. You knew what he wanted, swollen lips parting as you sighed, settling with your back just barely touching his front. 

You let Suguru grab one leg, lifting it up slowly to create enough space for himself. “Lazy boy…” You teased over your shoulder, letting his arm hook under your neck, large hand resting on your chest. “Maybe I am, but you fucking love it.” You couldn’t complain, not when he was angling his hips and pressing the weeping tip of his cock at your entrance. He pressed into you, adjusting both of your bodies until he found a comfortable position to properly rut his hips into you. All you could do is let him, whining loudly as he split you open, stuffing you full. “How’s that, hmm? Does it feel good?” Suguru whispered against your ear, panting as your walls constricted around him and tried to push him out at the very same time. “F-feels so good…so good…” You whined loudly. 

Suguru didn’t give you a verbal response after that, instead focusing all of his attention on finding a good rhythm to fuck you too. You couldn’t stop the noises that spilled past your lips, each drag of his cock in and out of your heat was enough to make your vision blurry. It took everything in you to at least keep your head up, tilted downwards to watch where he disappeared and reappeared between your legs.  “Suguru…” a breathless plea, one that turned into a steady mantra as all you could think about was him and what he was doing to you. Had you not been so overwhelmed you would have heard his quiet grunts of praise each time your bodies connected. 

Suguru watched a shaky hand slide down your front, in your whimpering daze you managed to slip two fingers down there to rub sloppy circles on your clit. “Gonna cum, aren’t ya?” Suguru gasped, his cock twitching violently as your cunt suctioned to him, nearly making his thrusts falter. “Y-yeah…” you managed to get out, no longer having the strength to keep your head up. You let it fall, resting snuggly in the crook of the arm he was using to support you. “Then come for me, pretty girl. I wanna feel you come all over my cock… then maybe I’ll fill you up, yeah? You’d love that…” you responded with a loud whine, walls fluttering around his length each time he pushed it back in. 

“There we go, come for me.” He encouraged again, warm breath ghosting the shell of your ear and earning a shiver in response. You could feel it, the aching build of a damn that was on the verge of breaking, every breath you made was nothing but a labored pant. Your heart was beating erratically, just as you were about to fall over the edge, Suguru gasped. You couldn’t help but gasp with him, his release pumping into you, hot and sticky. “F-fuck sorry…” he grounded out, his own orgasm sneaking up on him and completely catching you by surprise. Not that it mattered to you, that strained and embarrassed apology was all you needed before you felt yourself coming as well. 

You both essentially collapsed, Suguru holding you tightly as he angled himself to remain inside of you, to keep his cum inside of you. “You okay?” he mumbled softly, hand lazily reaching for the one you had used to rub your clit and bring it to your lips. You whined as he popped the shiny fingers in his mouth, cleaning them with his tongue. “Yeah, I'm good…great really.” You chuckled, eyelids feeling heavy as he hummed. “Good.” he mumbled softly, pulling your fingers from his mouth to kiss them gingerly. “You know I love you, right?” Suguru’s voice was tender, so tender it nearly pulled the air out of your lungs. “Yeah, of course I know that Sugu… you know I love you too, right?” 

“I know.” was all he said in reply, you had to wonder why he was suddenly so sentimental. Suguru was typically softer with you after sex, aftercare was one of his specialties. But something about his tone felt different, something about his question felt like there was more meaning behind it. You had been noticing the bags under his eyes for the last few weeks, but every time you asked he always brushed you off. “Is everything okay?” you tried to turn your head to look back at him, but the angle he had you in proved to make movement difficult. “Mmhmm, just want to make sure you’re okay.” but he hadn’t  been that rough with you. “Yeah, I’m okay… but you haven’t answered me.” He stopped kissing your hand, setting it down gently as he moved to kiss your shoulder. 

“I haven’t?” 

“I asked you if you were okay.”

“Well, I did answer you. I said yes.” he didn’t sound offended, more or less he sounded amused. “Mmhmm isn’t a yes, Suguru.” You, on the other hand, sounded a little less enthused. “I’m okay, baby. Is that better.” you couldn’t see it but you could hear the smile on his lips. “Yeah, that’s better.” But for some reason, you couldn’t shake the worry clinging to your heart. 

~

“Hey… hey…” you woke with a gasp, eyes wet as you tried to remember where you were. “You okay? You started crying in your sleep again.” A worried but groggy voice was speaking to you, one that was familiar but your brain couldn’t seem to catch up. “Y/N? It’s me, it’s Satoru.” There it was, you nearly fell back into the pillow with relief as he spoke. “Shit I’m sorry… I was dreaming and it just… fuck it felt so real. I couldn’t remember where I was…” you wiped your eyes, slowly adjusting to the dark room again. “It’s okay… you’ve been dreaming a lot.” Satoru sighed, he remembered you saying that your nights had been pretty dreamless for the last three weeks so why was that changing now? 

“I know… it just started happening too. Maybe it's because of the baby.”

Your hand lowered to your stomach, palm resting flatley against it. You still couldn’t process the fact that there was something in there, something that was growing, a mix of you and him. “Can pregnancy make you dream more?” Satoru chuckled, blue eyes shifting to read his alarm clock. It was just past four in the morning. You had slept pretty well until a few minutes ago. He had been watching you, woken up by your body growing restless. He woke you up the moment he heard you start to sniffle. “I dunno, maybe.” you sighed, eyes feeling heavy again. “Sorry for waking you, Toru.” You didn’t hear the way his breath hitched, your yawn effectively shutting it all out. 

You hadn’t called him by that nickname in weeks, he hadn’t really realized how much he missed it. “Don’t apologize, I told you to stop that.” Not stern, just tired, he wanted you to go back to normal but he knew that was impossible. Things would never go back to how they were. “Oh, yeah… I guess you have told me that.” You chuckle, turning on your side to face him in the dark. “I won’t apologize for forgetting this time, okay?” You grinned, eyes closing and unaware that he was able to see it in the dark. “Okay.” He sighed, a grin creeping up his own face as he let his eyes shut again. Hopefully you’d sleep through to his alarm at 8:30am, you had a busy day ahead. 

~END OF PART ONE~

Thank you for reading! I hope you look forward to part 2 <3333

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[seresinhangmanjake]

kind of an angsty prompt, reader is one of feyd’s more “unpopular” concubines, never actually having been acknowledged by him and as a result is treated pretty badly since she is seen as “undesirable”. but one day when house harkonnen is having a celebration and other houses are invited, she catches the attention of paul atreides, who is desperate to take her as his own. the baron concedes, since feyd doesn’t pay her any attention, but over the years feyd gets to know more about her personality and falls for her, as she has more power as paul’s sole concubine and can assert herself much better than when she was his. kinda a “didn’t know what you had till you lost it situation”.

The Only One

Feyd-Rautha x concubine!reader

Warnings/Notes: I made it a little bit different, so I hope that's ok. The chronology of this is all messed up from the movies. People are alive who wouldn’t be, but just go with it. People being owned. Feyd is grumpy boy. Slight smut, so 18+. Angsty-ish, but lighter ending. Cursing.

Words: 3300

Feyd-Rautha Masterlist / Main Masterlist / Tag list

Your mother once told you that love was wonderful. Just like that. Simple words, as if factual, as if love were so stunningly special that it didn’t need flowery language to prove it’s worth. Love is wonderful and one day you will see so for yourself. That’s what she said. But what did she know, really. She was a blip in the universe who promised you would partake in an experience that has done you more harm and little good. This love she spoke of—you’ve seen it. Worse, you’ve felt it. And it is nothing like she described. It has been anything but wonderful. 

Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen does not love you. In fact, if he were to love at all, you wouldn’t even make the list of potential receivers of that love. There are many in line before you. Three, to be exact—his harpies. Were he capable of love, he would love them. They are the ones he visits in the night, not you. They are the ones he keeps at his side, not you. Like you, they are owned by him, but unlike you, they are paraded around while you are cast aside. 

You don’t know why he claimed you if he was never going to use you. He declared you a concubine—effectively forbidding any hands other than his on your body—only to leave you untouched for the better part of a year. Untouched. Unloved, in every sense of the word. 

Perhaps it is because you are not like them. You’re not from Giedi Prime and you fumbled to learn their customs, and maybe that was too unattractive. Maybe all he saw in you was a fool failing to adjust to the life he leads, and maybe he could not look past that to see how hard you were trying for him. 

Since you became his property, all you’ve wanted is for him to like you. Not even reciprocate the love you harbor, but simply enjoy your presence and come to you every once in a while rather than allowing the harpies to tend to him. It doesn’t seem like too much to hope for, but you know better. He doesn’t care for you. He paid no attention to you as your heart attached itself to him, and yet it attached with mighty strength anyway. 

You’ve stopped pretending like you don’t know where that leaves you. For some time, you played the mental game. He could grow to love me…one day. If only he paid me a second of attention, he would see my devotion and realize I'm what he’s always wanted. Fairytale stuff used to deflect your fate. But you know your fate, and it isn’t a life by the side of the cruel-hearted man you've come to love. It’s a life alone. 

—

“Care for a drink?” you hear. 

Without looking in the direction of the voice, you say, “No, thank you,” having been taught that as the sole acceptable answer to a man’s advances. No, because you belong to him. Thank you, because rudeness can start wars. 

“You’ve been standing here all night,” the voice continues. “You have to be thirsty.”

He must know who you are by now. The Hakonnens have hosted grand events before, and you’ve always been present. If the men who have approached you in the past did not know who owned you, they would learn rather quickly. A word from a nearby guard and a glance into Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen’s glare and those men would back off. 

You look Feyd’s way. He’s busy with the harpies. No glare in sight.

“My House brought our finest wines. I can guarantee you would enjoy a taste.”

You can barely hold back your groan. Your head whips in the direction of the voice. “Thank you, but–” You cut yourself off with a gasp.

Paul Atreidies chuckles. The emperor chuckles. “Bring her a glass,” he says to a Harkonnen servant. The servant hesitates for a second, which only you seem to detect. He has no choice but to obey the emperor, yet doing so may cost him his life. Yet, he heads off, disappearing into the crowd toward the refreshments.

“I apologize,” you say as you bow your head in shame. 

His finger crooks under your chin and lifts so your eyes have to meet his. “A pretty face should never be to the ground. Even a concubine’s.”

“You know who I am.”

“Of course I do,” he says. “I’ve seen you before.”

You flush with embarrassment. If he’s noticed you before, then he’s noticed you alone before, standing in this exact spot against the wall. And if he’s noticed you and is willing to talk to you, then he likely pities you. To have the emperor’s pity—a gift or a sign of weakness?

The servant returns, handing you a glass half filled with a deep maroon liquid. Paul Atreides lifts his own glass and clinks it against yours. The rim meets his lips. He takes his sip and then smiles as he watches you do the same. 

He raises a brow. “Good?” You nod. “Good. Would you like more?”

“No,” you reply after hastily swallowing. “Thank you.”

He grins again and then turns so you’re shoulder to shoulder, staring out into the mass of mingling bodies. “I don’t enjoy these,” he says. “My birthdays are more intimate affairs.”

You don’t know what he’s getting at, but insulting the birthday of the Baron’s most promising nephew makes your stomach drop. Were the man beside you not the emperor, and had anyone overheard him, he would have a blade run through him by the end of the night. 

“What good is spending your birthday with people you do not love and who do not love you?” he says, and with great restraint, you keep from spitting that a Harkonnen cannot love and so it makes no difference to them who is around. Then he says, “You know, I could make sure you always have plenty.” 

When you look at him, his head nudges to the glass in your hand. Your heart thumps. “I–I don’t understand what you mean,” you tell him, hoping that what you think you understand from his words is wildly incorrect. 

“You could be mine,” he tells you. “I would like for you to be mine. I would actually touch you, unlike him.” Unlike the man whose neglect has rendered you useless. 

“Surely your wife would not be pleased.”

“She’s used to it,” he says. You didn’t know what else you expected. You’ve heard of the famous Chani. “I intend to ask the Baron for you. Out of politeness, of course.” Because he could just take you if he wanted. He is the emperor, after all. But rudeness… “Would you like that?”

Not unless you like being separated from the organ that keeps your body alive. But then again, that organ has been mutilated to the point that not much else could damage it. 

Your eyes dart to Feyd. He’s watching you from his seat across the room, his blue irises darkened. He cannot do anything about the closeness of Paul Atreides. He wouldn’t, you know, but if he wanted to, he couldn’t. A harpy runs her hand across his cheek. A lump forms in your throat. You look away. 

“I think I would,” you answer. 

—

“He can’t have her!” 

You can hear him through the grand doors. You’re not supposed to be here, but you couldn’t help yourself. You wanted to know his reaction to you leaving, but you didn’t expect this. You figured he’d send a servant to pack up your belongings and set them by the entrance of the fortress right before shoving you outside with his own two hands. 

“He can,” the Baron says. Something crashes against a wall. Its pieces clink as they hit the ground. 

“She belongs to me! She’s mine!” Feyd shouts. “She–”

“You don’t use her. She’s no great loss to you. If the harpies are insufficient, you can find another elsewhere, but this one now belongs to the Emperor.”

“He's forcing her,” Feyd says. “He's stealing her from me!”

You wonder if anyone other than Paul Atreides knows the truth: that you were offered a chance to leave and have decided to take it. You’re not being stolen. The Emperor did not remove the collar around your neck simply to replace it with one of his own. He asked; you said yes. 

“She agreed,” the Baron answers, effectively ending your curiosity. It shocks you, not seeming like information necessary for an Emporer to tell one of his subjects. “Not that it matters,” he says, and you agree. 

“Make him give her back to me!”

“I’m not interested in increasing tensions between our Houses over some concubine, nephew. Find yourself a new one.”

You know he will. It won’t take him long, and he might actually put his hands on this one. You ignore the clench in your stomach at the thought of his touch on someone other than the harpies. Maybe she would be more like you—color to her cheeks, hair on her head. You hope you never meet her. It’ll make you sick. It would mean it really has been you. All this time, you were the problem. You were the defective one. Only you weren’t worth his attention.

When presence enters your space, you know it’s time. You face the Kaitainian guard, and he turns. You follow him away from Feyd. 

—

Feyd POV - One Year Later

You carry yourself differently around him. Your back is straighter, chin higher. You keep your hands clasped in front of you at all times. Feyd never made you stand like that, like someone shoved a stick down the back of your dress—your dress, which he hates. 

If you’re going to be dolled up like a present on his birthday, the least his cousin could’ve done was wrap you in colors he likes. Some silver chain or thick, black leather. Not this shimmery golden, flowy fabric of another planet. 

It pisses him off. Showing up in Paul’s clothes, doing your hair up as they do in Kaitain instead of letting it loose around your shoulders, standing as Paul wants you to stand—all of it is like a stamp on the memory of you being taken from him. 

You’re changed, but you no less belong to Feyd than you did before. The real you is still in this new woman somewhere, and he intends to bring you back. 

He’s been planning it for a year. It took him time to gain enough trust from his uncle to be granted full rein of the Harkonnen armies, but all he had to do was prove his ruthlessness and wait until his brother showed himself for the fool he is, and now he has a footing in Arrakis. Complete control over spice production, which he can manipulate from right under his uncle’s nose. Something Paul Atreides wants. 

—

Reader POV

The second he returns from his meeting with Paul, you can feel him. Watching you. Staring. Drinking you in. You try your best to ignore it, but you can’t help but wonder what he sees when he looks at you now. You’re not the same. For a year, you haven’t lived the life Feyd-Rautha made for you, and in that year, you’ve been exposed to the antithesis of that life. Finer clothes, better food, maidservants of your own, physical touch. You’re treated with kindness, and you have been used as you are meant to be used. 

Unfortunately, that doesn’t mean you are any more loved on Kaitain than you were on Giedi Prime. That place is for Chani. She permanently resides in the eye of the emperor, and you, just off to the side. But you’ve come to accept your reality. You’ve made your peace with never being someone’s first choice. What you haven’t made your peace with is Feyd. 

You wish you could say otherwise, but you still have those feelings stirring inside of you. Love, that even after another year of contemplation, you still don’t understand. He never gave you reason to love him. But you couldn’t help yourself. Watching him from a distance was enough. You fell in love with a man you witnessed show leniency and a form of kindness to women who weren’t you while imagining yourself in their place. It was, and is, pathetic. Yet, you continue to love him. And now you’re seeing him again, and he’s just as beautiful. 

You sneak a glance at him. His eyes are still on you. He’s alone, no harpies to his left or right. Your eyes scan the room. No harpies anywhere.

“Are you alright?” Paul asks as he comes from behind you to be at your side. 

“Yes.” No.

Paul takes a sip of his drink. “I know it must be awkward, but are you enjoying the party? I cannot tell by the look on your face.”

“I am.” You’re not. 

In your peripherals, you see him nod. “I have…” he sighs. When you look at him, his head is tipped downward. 

“You always say beauty should not face the floor,” you tell him. 

“I do,” he says with a smile, lifting his head. He takes a deep breath. “I have to tell you something.” An immediate sense of dread fills your gut. “He’s asked for you back.”

Your body freezes, and then your heart begins to thump against the wall of your chest. It pounds with the ferocity of a hundred drums, almost painful in its desperation for freedom, escape. “And?”

Paul’s eyes find yours. You see the silent apology. “I’ve agreed.”

“What!” is a hushed burst of air. You can’t draw attention to yourself, but you know if anyone is already looking your way, the mask of indifference you’re trying to keep on your face won’t fool them.  

“I’m sorry. He offered me something I cannot refuse.” 

You don’t have to ask if that something is truly more than your worth. By the sight of the emperor, it is worth more than ten times your value to him, and you can’t stand in your spot anymore. Your composure is being chiseled away at by the second, but this is not the place to fall apart. The emperor says your name and for the first time, you don’t respond as you walk off. 

Knowing your way around the place, you find a secluded corner just outside the doors of the grand room. Your breathing is uncontrollable. His. You’re going to be his…again. Or you already are. It sounded as if the deal had been made, signed, and done with. You’re not leaving Giedi Prime at the end of the night. You’re not going back to luxury, comfort. You’re staying put. Once again, ignored and treated as a useless object. Once again, a low member on the list of those Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen wants. 

Suddenly, a stream of light blinds you, the muffled voices rise in clarity, and then both are gone. No light. Dimmed voices. You blink. Feyd is in front of you. 

Scoffing, you say, “What do you want?”

He stares at you some more—a long interlude that makes your nerves wiggly under your skin. Then he walks, he enters your space, he puts his hands on your cheeks, and he kisses you. 

The very first kiss. And you wish it was awful. You wish it didn’t send a zingy shiver down your spine or raise the hair on your arms, but your body doesn’t feel like your own as his lips meld with yours. You’re simply along for the ride, taking what he’s giving. 

When he pulls away, he rests his forehead on yours. “I should’ve kissed you before,” he says through a ragged breath. “You’re so fucking sweet.” And then he goes in for another kiss. Another kiss that you don’t return because you’re too stunned to do so. 

Coming to your senses, you plant your hands firmly on his chest and shove. He stumbles. The surprise of it doesn’t last long. 

“Don’t,” he snaps. “You’re mine again.”

“Why did you do this?” you spit. 

“I never should have been forced to lose you,” he tells you, but you don’t really hear him as your words continue to tumble out of your mouth at a rapid rate. 

“You don’t need me. I’m a waste to you. You never touched me–”

“I didn’t want to ruin you,” he says. “That’s why–”

“You only touched them–”

“Because you were something pure.”

That, you do hear. “Pure!” you shout. “You liked me pure? If so, then you’ve wasted trading whatever you had to have me back. I’m not pure anymore. And do you know why?”

Feyd’s blue irises darken a shade. “Stop.”

“Because I was his,” you say, a whimper in your throat as you reminisce about the ease of the past year of your life. “And he actually used me.”

“Stop!” He grabs your arm. You fight his grip, but it’s a waste of energy—he’s too strong for you—and then you’re being pulled into the closest room. He tries to press his lips to yours and in that moment of vulnerability, you’re able to pull yourself free from his grasp. 

“Don’t you dare! Go to your harpies.”

“They’re dead,” he says, reaching for you again. You leap back, but he manages to catch you. He pulls you close and your chest slams into his. 

“Why?” you say as you struggle, your body wiggling in the circle of his arms. 

“I killed them when you were taken from me.”

Your spine goes rigid. You blanch. “W-Why?”

Feyd groans as if he’s tired of you playing stupid, as if he’s tired of you wasting his time on ridiculous questions with obvious answers. “Because you made them tolerable. I thought of you whenever I had them, but then you were gone, and I couldn’t think about you without thinking I was never going to have you.”

Your lungs lock in all oxygen, and suddenly, against your will, a crack splits the hard shell of your anger. It’s not so simple to believe what he says. That he always wanted you? That you were too precious for him to touch? You think it’s more likely your appeal increased when he lost control over you, but his words are distracting, too much to comprehend in the limited time you have before he’s kissing you again. This time, you soften in his hold. You kiss him back. 

Your hands slide up his chest to the back of his neck. His mouth moves to your cheek, your jawline, your neck. He bites down on sensitive flesh. His touch trails down your spine, over the swell of your bottom to your thighs, and he lifts you up. 

It’s a few steps to the foreign bed. On your back, you yank up the skirt of your dress as he rips his shirt off and undoes the fasteners of his pants. He pulls them down just enough to free himself. His arms curl under your knees. He jerks your body to the end of the bed. One hand goes to your waist. The other pumps his member twice before he guides himself inside of you. 

It’s not like Paul. Not even close. Thicker. Longer. You watch Feyd where you didn’t watch Paul. Through your own pleasure, you examine his. The pinch of his brow. The parting of his lips. The breath that leaves them—it’s heavy and yet soft. The way he stares at you. Always staring. 

You love him. 

“You will be the only one,” he says. He leans down to connect your lips. “The only one.”

[keepingitformyself]

and my waves meet your shore

A/N: this one has been in the drafts for two years.... synopsis: natasha seems to have found silence in all the noise.

MASTERLIST

pairings: natasha romanoff x reader

genre: angst, fluff.

warnings: sad natasha :(

please do not repost my work anywhere for any reason at all. if you do see this happen to any of my stories, please let me know. thank you x.

natasha romanoff has lived a very lonely ife.

however, as sad as it may seem natasha never once payed any heed to it. relationships and rapport had rarely been acknowledged by her superiors during her time in the red room. but if it ever was it was only to display the inconvenience it would bring to her life.

so as a stead natasha had only ever put her mind to the things she was instructed to, unfortunately companionship had never been in that spectrum for her.

her lack of agency had always made that easier for her. she was always taught to deflect at any first sign of fragility and she never needed anyone else because— well she was simply better off on her own.

still, thoughts of having any sense of togetherness or intimacy would sometimes cross her mind, but as soon as they came she was always quick to brush them off.

it took her some time to discard the habit of having that mentality.

natasha’s upbringing was one made up of unspeakable catastrophe, things one simply could not ever bear to speak about. she had taken too many falls, and she had shed too much blood and tears for a life she never intended.

but when she did manage to set herself free, plagued with nothing but the haunts of the past she left behind, with the very small amount of hope she had left in humanity, she rose slowly from the depths of a narrative she’d never spare a glance back at again.

and she had clint barton to thank for that. he would never understand the amount of gratitude she had towards the archer. he had given her a sense of family, a sense of home. he let her in and introduced her to his own life outside of what it meant to be on the light side of the fight.

he was her first shot at a real human relationship. her shot at a second chance.

it had flicked a switch inside of her whenever she saw clint hug his kids and kiss their cheeks. natasha had only ever known cruelty, she had never seen something so benevolent before.

she liked it whenever she got to see that side of him, the side that wasn’t so stoic and on high alert all the time, the side that wasn’t agent barton.

it changed her perspective when it came to the world. she had only ever seen the ugly in people. her experience with some of the most horrendous things had allowed for her to see the humanity in others.

but unfortunately, never in herself.

even after switching her allegiance to the avengers she still couldn’t bear the thought of the person she used to be, the one that was the exact opposite of who she is now.

she devoted herself to the fight and had made her own separate code to live by. it became a need for her to do only the great or good, so much so that she was willing to put her own life on the line if it ever came to it. her entire life became one of redemption.

natasha romanoff had lived a tragic life. no one would ever understand her and her troubled past, and no one had ever made the time to try.

that is until she met you.

she had met you in a weird time in her life. taking down what was left of shield also meant exposing who she was before her years as an agent at shield.

many people were out of a job after that. some moved on, others promoted into whatever secret agency would come next. you however, had been offered a spot next to the world’s mightiest heroes.

she was wary of you, of course. she had the right to be. it wasn’t everyday someone would show up out of the blue and offer her a piece of themselves.

you were like that a lot. natasha quickly learned you had no problem in sharing parts about you to make others feel better. sure, you weren’t someone who carried a large amount of baggage like the rest of them, but that felt refreshing to most of the team.

natasha never got to pick her battles before, until now. she’d always deny saying that she hated the fight more than she showed.

the truth is, natasha wasn’t ready for a fight much like this one, but nonetheless, it was still one she wouldn’t surrender to.

—

natasha has nightmares. bad ones too.

it’s the same thing every time they happen. she wakes up in the night and paces her room, it feels like a fire inside. the smoke that isn’t there manages to make her feel like it consumes her into its flames.

she feels helpless in its flames, she convinced herself that the lifetimes worth of nightmares is what she deserves. she cries and hopes that it ends soon, all she can do is hold her own until it passes.

suddenly, you barge in. you find natasha on the floor, looking frail and disrupted. you don’t waste a moment in rushing towards her.

you don’t even think about how you’ve never been in such close proximity to her. then you hug her. you tell her that she’s okay, that it’s okay.

she never pushes you off and it surprises you, natasha quickly figures that she likes to be held and you feel warm against her, so she lets you.

you kiss her dampened forehead and keep coaxing her, telling her anything and everything that you think might help her. you never push her into opening up, you understand the intimacy of it, natasha is thankful for that.

when you feel her breath steady and her cries have grown quieter you walk her back to her bed. you both look at each other for a moment and she breathes out before saying.

“thank you.” her voice comes out in a rasp.

you only nod, a small smile on your face. you make your way to leave until you feel her hand graze your own. you meet her eyes again with a furrow in your brows.

the look she gives you tells you that she doesn’t want this to be brought up again and that she trusts that it will remain between you both. your hand touches her own,

“you can trust me.” is all you say before leaving back towards where you came from.

when natasha wakes up that morning she finds that she hates her reflection in the mirror. she notices pieces of her old self when staring into her eyes.

she clenches the counter under her hands and squeezes her eyes until she musters up enough courage to walk out of her bedroom door.

when she makes her way into the busy kitchen she’s greeted instantly by everyone. she smiles and greets back, acting as if nothing had happened the night prior. that is until she feels a warm cup being pushed into her hands.

“morning, i made your coffee. i’ll serve you a plate in just a moment.” you greet the redhead with a smile. she raises her eyebrows in surprise and takes the coffee in her hands.

she sits besides clint and hums in contentment once she figures out that you made her cup just the way she liked it. black and one sugar.

you make breakfast easy for her to feel comfortable in. you act as if nothing had happened and continue to pass around jokes with the boys. natasha even passes you the ketchup bottle with a small smile when you ask for it. your mind cheers at the small progress you think you’ve made.

now, natasha knows that she can somewhat trust you and in the enlightenment of that she starts to loosen herself when it comes to you.

since then you’ve seen more of natasha around the building and you notice how she’s open to your company even more.

you now find the redhead sitting next to you during meals if she finds a space empty and she acknowledges you with a smile if you see her passing in hallways throughout the day.

one particular moment that really catches you by surprise is when you finally let yourself make the time to sharpen your knife collection. you hadn’t had the chance to since work piled up and it wasn’t until today that you were now allowed a free day.

and when you make it to your armory you find that all your blades and knives had been sharpened and cleaned. a note left by the redhead in your locker.

‘i know you haven’t had the time. -N’ you’re left shocked but don’t even question how she knew this despite never mentioning it to her.

two weeks later, she walks up to you in the middle of your workout. she taps your shoulder and you remove your earbud to turn towards her.

“hi!” you say too enthusiasticly, surprised she had walked up to you to start a conversation.

you’ve learned by now to never push for her attention, you let her come to you when she wants to. everything had to happen at her own pace if you want to be her friend.

she invites you for movies in her room later that night. a shy smile invades her face as she releases the sentence, you could tell she seemed a bit nervous at the idea of being in a room alone with you.

you agree as cooly as you can, careful to not overexcite your response in case she suddenly sees it as weird.

later that night you find yourself in bed with natasha, she shares her bag of skittles with you whilst she chooses a movie. you smile when you notice the stash of snacks she had hidden, a variety of skittles and reece’s. you make a mental note to gift her some more of her favorite snacks.

she makes you watch her favorite bond films, you never point it out but you know for most of the movies she had watched you instead.

the gears turn in natasha’s head. she watches you laugh and sees the fascination swirl in your eyes as you become invested in the action sequences.

she searches and searches for any sign of bad intention in you. part of her has not fully comprehended how someone like you had wanted to be involved with someone like her. she knows how patient you’ve been…but why?

she absolutely cannot help it that she feels this way, not when it’s been programmed into her to never be this vulnerable.

but every bone within her knows you’re anything but ill-intended. her mind just simply can’t wrap around the idea that someone seems to want to stay.

once the movie had finished you stayed back for a while to talk. you had no problem in taking charge of most of the conversation, you knew natasha was still adjusting to you.

she asks you questions, you answer.

you tell her about your family. you grew up in brooklyn, a cute brownstone in the park slope neighborhood. you had two older siblings, each four years older. a brother, a stockbroker and your sister who was an interior designer.

you notice the small quirk in natasha’s face when you mention your siblings, you decide not to question it.

until two weeks later. you’re in her room again and she brings it up during a harry potter marathon.

“i have a sister.” is all she has to say before you pause the movie.

“pardon?” you look at her, but she’s still staring at the screen.

“i have a sister, or had, i don’t really know where she is now.”

you tread carefully with your next question.

“do you think about her a lot?” the question finally makes her look at you.

“all the time.” she whispers.

you think of how devastating it may be for her to know someone out there was once a part of her.

“thank you for telling me.”

—————

after a solo mission to johannesburg you come back in very bad shape. you’d barely made it out by the time an airlift came to retrieve you.

and once you’re lifted into the jet by a combat med you don’t notice the worried redhead that’s in the jet waiting for you as well.

she grabs your face in her two hands, worried expression on her face.

you’re breathing heavy, and you’re clutching your stomach with the same arm that’s throbbing.

all you can really do is give her a bloodied smile.

you take a sharp breath in, “hey…” then your eyelids go heavy and you don’t really remember much of anything after that.

by the time you’ve landed it’s all a mess. everyone hears about your state, and the whole team is there to meet you at the landing dock when you’re being carried in a stretcher into the compound.

natasha only talks to three people until you wake up. steve to report everything to, and bruce and doctor cho for any inquiry on your state of health.

despite everyone’s efforts to convince natasha you’re fine, she’s stays put and keeps her eye on you through surgery. clint tries to get her to eat but his attempts fail, only met with complete silence. and wanda tries to tell her to at least freshen up for you, but she’s met with silence yet again.

it’s all honestly a bit off putting how eerily quiet she got. the team decides then, that when it comes to you it’s best to just let her be.

but she’s there again when you wake up in the med bay. she instantly hears your shift in breathing and wakes up only seconds after you do.

“you’re awake.” is the first thing she says.

and you in your disoriented state say,

“good. i’m really loopy still, so i can’t really tell if i’m dreaming or not.”

natasha lets out what sounds like a relieved sigh or a laugh, but it makes you smile, and you both stare at eachother for a few seconds.

you look at her, a grateful smile on your face.

the gears in natasha’s head turn. something about the way she found you almost twenty four hours ago had shifted something in her.

she was with steve when you reported you may need extraction as soon as possible. your breathing was ragged and you let out at strangled whimper before the line cut off.

“i’m going.” was all natasha said before she headed off to pack a bag. she was there before the extraction team fifteen minutes later.

it was hard to think of anything else besides you, on her way to you. and it was hard to think of anything else besides being with you when she finally got to you.

it was something she couldn’t quite place, or maybe she could, maybe she wasn’t ready to face it yet.

you squint your eyes at the redhead next to you, noticing her deep in thought state. you almost think you see a twinge of something else besides relief in her eyes. but before you could question it almost robotically a mask is put back up.

“i’ll go get, cho.” is all she says before she clears her throat and leaves.

after that, you catch natasha around you alot. more than usual.

suddenly every partner mission you’re assigned to, natasha is there with you ready to go.

and you never find out, but she made steve promise to assign you both together. she never really tells him why, even when he asks she’s quite good at deflecting those questions.

and quite honestly, he didn’t have it in himself to question her, knowing she always had everyone’s best interests in mind.

it’s a little past midnight when you find natasha sitting on the compound’s balcony. the distant hum of the city mixes with the soft chirping of crickets, creating a quiet melody that feels oddly serene. she doesn’t startle when you join her, doesn’t even glance up, but you notice the slight tension in her shoulders ease as you settle into the chair beside her.

the silence between you stretches, comfortable yet charged with unspoken words. she’s never been much for small talk—her world operates on subtleties and actions rather than open confessions. you’ve learned to understand her language, the way she communicates through fleeting gestures and careful glances.

“i didn’t expect you to be awake,” she finally says, voice low and steady. her gaze is fixed on the horizon, as if the view holds answers she’s not ready to share.

“couldn’t sleep,” you reply, mirroring her tone. “too quiet.”

she huffs a quiet laugh. “you don’t strike me as someone who likes noise.”

“i don’t. but sometimes, silence is its own kind of noise, don’t you think?”

her eyes flicker toward you, studying your profile like she’s trying to decipher a code. you don’t push; you’ve never needed to. natasha unfolds on her terms, like a flower reluctant to bloom under artificial light.

“i used to hate silence,” she admits after a moment. “it felt… heavy. like it was waiting to crush me.”

you nod, not saying anything but giving her the space to continue.

“then, i realized it wasn’t the silence i hated. it was being alone in it.”

the admission hangs in the air, raw and unguarded in a way natasha rarely allows herself to be. you shift in your seat, careful to keep your movements unassuming.

“you’re not alone anymore,” you say gently, your voice barely above a whisper.

her head tilts, and for a brief moment, you see the war behind her eyes—the battle between wanting to believe you and the deep-seated scars of her past telling her otherwise.

“it doesn’t feel like it when you’re around,” she finally says, her voice soft but carrying the weight of her sincerity.

it’s a small victory, but one that fills your chest with warmth. you glance at her, and this time, she meets your eyes. there’s a vulnerability in her gaze, a quiet plea for something she doesn’t know how to ask for.

“you don’t have to carry it all by yourself,” you say. “not anymore.”

her lips twitch into the barest hint of a smile, and she looks back out at the skyline.

“i know.”

it’s not an overt declaration or a grand epiphany, but it’s enough. natasha romanoff doesn’t find solace in words. she finds it in actions, in the quiet moments shared with someone who sees her for who she is and stays anyway.

natasha hesitates, her fingers drumming lightly on the armrest of her chair. she’s rarely still for long—always poised, always prepared to move, to act. but tonight, she’s caught between the present and the thousand questions swirling in her mind.

her voice comes unexpectedly, low and careful. “when you were hurt on that mission…” she pauses, her jaw tightening as she fights the urge to retreat into herself. “…i realized something.”

you turn toward her fully, watching as she wrestles with whatever it is she’s trying to say. her hands rest on her lap now, and her gaze is focused on them as though the answers are carved into her palms.

“nat…” you prompt softly, giving her space to continue.

she exhales, a sound heavy with reluctance and resolve. “i’ve lost people before. more than i can count. and i always told myself it was… just part of the job. you can’t stop to feel when you’re in the middle of everything. you can’t afford to.”

you stay quiet, knowing this isn’t the moment for interruptions.

“but when i saw you…” her voice falters, her fingers curling into fists before relaxing again. “it wasn’t the same. i didn’t—” she stops, looks up at you with a rare vulnerability that makes your chest ache. “i didn’t know what I’d do if you didn’t come back.”

the admission is small, almost swallowed by the quiet around you, but it lands with the force of something much larger. you feel the words settle in your chest, warm and grounding.

you lean forward slightly, letting the closeness fill the space between you. “you don’t have to say anything you’re not ready for,” you offer, keeping your tone as gentle as you can. “but just so you know… i’m not going anywhere.”

natasha’s lips press into a thin line, her gaze searching yours as though she’s testing the truth of your words. slowly, her hand moves, and she brushes her fingers against yours. it’s tentative, a question wrapped in the smallest of gestures.

you respond by turning your hand over, letting her fingers slip into yours. it’s not much—a barely-there connection—but to natasha, it feels monumental.

“i don’t know what this is,” she admits, her voice trembling just slightly, “or if i even deserve it. but... you make me feel something i didn’t think i could anymore.”

your breath catches at her confession, the subtle weight of it more than you expected but exactly what you’ve been hoping for.

“i think you deserve a lot more than you give yourself credit for,” you reply, your thumb brushing softly over her knuckles. “and whatever this is, i’m okay with figuring it out… with you.”

she doesn’t respond immediately, but the way her grip tightens around your hand is all the answer you need. the silence that follows is comfortable, filled not with the weight of unspoken fears but with the quiet promise of something new.

natasha glances at you once more, her green eyes soft in the moonlight. “thank you,” she murmurs. it’s the second time she’s said it to you, but tonight it carries more meaning, more intention.

for the first time in a long time, natasha feels the silence settle.

[lieuxtenant]

if there’s a thing I think is funny is how kat//ngers love to deflect any pro zutara arguments by start to talk about the characters like they have a mind of their own, I’ve seem things like “katara was the one who put herself in a motherly position”, “you’re ignoring their feelings and pushing your views on them based on nothing” (refering to media analysis) or even “zutara maybe a good pairing but katara loved aang and love isn’t logical” babe, those are not real people 😭

what they fail to acknowledge is that katara is a brown girl in a 2005 cartoon created by two white men, her main role was to be aang’s crush, the older pretty girl-next-door, she’s love interest before she’s character, she’s aang’s before she’s her own, her needs and agency only matters if they doesn’t diverge from the ones of male main lead, that’s why every time I see someone trying to say zutara being canon would’ve made her into “zuko’s redemption arc prize” or any bs KA shippers like to say I laugh because zuko’s character never defined who katara was supposed to be, aang’s character does

[dlscenarios]

Delicate

Benedict Bridgerton x f!reader SMUT

"Come here, you could meet me in the back"

Cw: SMUT, AFAB Reader + Reader wears period-typical feminine clothes, Ben catches feelings instantly (like an idiot), Why are all Bridgertons handsy, Vaginal Fingering, Pull Out Method/Coming on Stomach, Sex with Feelings, Is Vanilla a Kink?

I don't like this one as much as I liked Anthony's but I'm sure I'll write more for Ben eventually.

MDNI

It is oft said that second sons have more fun. They have the wealth and influence of a firstborn son, but they also have the freedom to behave in ways their elder brother could only dream of. This was the case with Benedict Bridgerton, second son of the late Viscount Bridgerton and only two years younger than the new one. While being one of the most eligible bachelors in London, he somehow manages to deflect wedding bells every time his eager mother brings around a single lady. He often escapes to White's for a stiff drink, but lately he has taken up going to parties thrown by the other unmarried men in the ton.

Benedict had never been a fan of Phillip Cavender — his soirées were always hit or miss — but tonight's actually seemed to be quite good for once. The spirits were high end yet no guest had thrown up the contents of their stomach thus far and the rooms didn't smell of sweat and sex. Of course, there was still the occasional couple in the hallway with their tongues down each other's throat, but the Cavenders' house had seen much worse based on the last few times Benedict had paid a visit. Though better than the last, the party was not exactly to Benedict's taste.

The only unwed Bridgerton brother — aside from Gregory who was not quite old enough for marriage — had just stepped outside with his glass to enjoy some fresh air when he heard a groan from the other side of the house. Benedict, though intrigued, decided not to butt in but subconsciously took a small step closer toward the sound. He took a sip of his drink before someone, supposedly the one that had made the aforementioned noise, stepped out from behind the wall, halting instantly once they spotted him.

You had been hiding on the side of the Cavenders' house, having been relegated there after the friend you had come with started getting debauched by a nameless lord in the hallway. It hadn't exactly been an unwanted change of scenery, the party had begun to take a turn for the worse when Phillip started chugging brandy straight from the bottle, but you would have preferred to gather your friend and flee had she not been taken up with someone.

When you rounded the corner, posture relaxed and hair freed from the coiffure it'd been in all night, Benedict's heart almost leapt out of his chest. He couldn't put his finger on why, but it had been the first time in his nearly thirty years of life that someone caught him so off guard. You took a startled step back, eyes widened after nearly running into the man.

You let out a small surprised squeak before clearing your throat. "Apologies..." you muttered, offering the stranger a quick nod of acknowledgment before turning to walk past him.

"Wait!" Benedict's mouth had worked before his mind. He couldn't let you leave. Something about you drew him in and after years of thinking he'd never feel the same flutter his siblings felt when meeting their spouses, a random partygoer gave him that exact feeling. However, now that he had your attention and you waited for him to speak once more, he couldn't think of anything that'd make you stay. Instead, he just gazed at you, studying every feature of your face, your hair, your chest...

"Sir...?" your voice came out meek but was enough to force Benedict back to earth. He blinked and straightened his stance, instinctively bitting his lip as he tried to think of what to say. Would a compliment be too forward? Too soon to ask for your time?

"Would you...care for a drink?" He immediately regretted uttering such a flubbed line.

Much to his relief, you tittered, "Sorry but I do not drink. Especially not at a party such as this."

Benedict nodded. There went his only idea...

You cut off his thoughts, "You seem familiar."

He looked up from the ground. "Do I?" He could track your eyes as they studied his appearance.

"You're a Bridgerton, aren't you?"

That made Benedict crack a nervous smile. Of course you'd clock him as a Bridgerton. Everyone in the ton knew his family and how they all shared the same features. "Can you guess which one?"

"Well...considering you are here and not with a  wife, I assume you're Benedict. Unless you're the viscount hiding from the viscountess." Your smirk told him you were joking. If you knew Benedict's name, surely you knew enough about his brother to know he was too enamored to ever leave Kate's side.

He mirrored your smirk. "I assure you, I am not married." He paused briefly before asking, "Might I ask why you were out here alone?"

You sighed and pointed toward the Cavenders' front door. "My friend is in there. She's found some man to make her very happy, for turn of phrase."

Benedict let out an "ah" and leaned against the side of the house.

"Why are you out here alone?" you asked, clasping your hands in front of you.

"Not quite a fan of Cavender's parties. I only came because a few buddies asked me to."

"I am not a fan either. The man himself is so...distasteful. I do not understand why any respectable person comes here."

"What is your name, if I may be so earnest?" Benedict pipes in and the moment you answered, the very sound of your name became a tight yet comforting presence around his heart. It felt right, as if he had been searching for it all his life. He had never heard of you or your family before but meeting you hadn't felt like meeting the other strangers of the ton.

He couldn't even tear his eyes away from you, meeting yours as he suggested aimlessly, "Do you...wish to go inside? It is quite cold out here tonight. I'm sure we could find a room to stow away in."

It, in fact, wasn't "quite cold" at night in the middle of June, but Benedict chose not to correct his mistake either. You seemingly didn't care to call him out as well, as your reply came in the form of linking your arm with his, eyes still glued to each other's as he lead you through the house.

After escorting you into a vacant bedroom and shutting the door, Benedict downed the rest of the alcohol in the glass he'd forgotten about until then before setting it on a nearby table and sitting on the side of the bed, gesturing for you to sit next to him. His eyes trailed over your dress, taking in how it hugged you in places too improper to show off in any other occasion.

His hand subconsciously moved to rest on your thigh, just above your knee, as he spoke with a smirk. "Quite the dress..."

You smiled shyly. "My friend suggested I wear it."

Benedict seemed much closer than he had been five seconds ago, yet neither of you moved away. He replied lowly, "I should thank her then."

Without warning, Benedict leaned in and captured your lips with his. His hand squeezed your leg a little tighter when your hands moved up to his head, pulling him into you as you returned his kiss. His hand trailed up your thigh, aching to bring you closer if it were possible and, when he squeezed, you noticed how dangerously close he was to your ass.

Breaking the kiss, you pressed a softer one to his jaw before leaning back to meet his gaze once more. His own hand now cupped your cheek. Benedict leaned in again, this time resting his forehead to yours. Neither of you said anything, not wanting to ruin the moment with meaningless words, instead basking in the other's presence.

The air had changed and with it changed the way you saw the man holding you. Instead of Mr. Bridgerton, the most eligible bachelor and skilled eluder of the aisle, you saw Benedict, a beautiful, warmer soul than most men you had met in the ton. It left you wanting to know more of him. It left you wanting him.

As if on the same wavelength, the two of you leaned in once more, the hand he'd had on your cheek slipping into your hair as the kiss grew hotter. Benedict groaned into your mouth, instinctively rolling his hips into the air when you returned his moan. He broke the kiss, gripping your shoulder, softly panting against your lips.

"I want you..." he whispered, eyes shining as if he'd just then realized it. "I want you..."

Your hands held his face again, futilely steadying him when you felt the hand sliding along your back tremble.

"I need you..." Benedict muttered, pulling your lower half closer. "Please..." His hand trailed over your clothed leg again.

He could have blamed it on the alcohol had you declined. He would have accepted your decision, though shattering his heart, apologized and fled. Instead, he meticulously watched as you hiked up your skirt, bunching the fabric at your thigh. Without hesitation, Benedict slipped his hand under, passing your stocking and caressing the soft skin above it. His eyes looked up to meet yours, silently asking if you were sure. Your warm smile coaxed him into kissing you again, softer and sweeter than the two prior and ending much too soon, but then he pressed similar pecks to your jaw and neck. His thumb rubbed gentle circles on your thigh before moving up to squeeze your clothed breast.

Your breath hitched as he mouthed at your neck. The hand at your chest then groped your hip then finally rest on your ass. With another chaste kiss to your cheek and a limp tug to your skirt, he whispers into your ear, "Take this off. Lie on the bed."

Without wasting a second, after he pulled away, you reached back to unbutton your gown. Benedict's eyes were glued to your body as he followed your actions, throwing his coat and shirt to the floor in time with your dress. He helped you undress further, having to restrain himself from ripping off your stays. The moment your back hit the bed, Benedict was on you, caressing your newly-bared thigh.

Benedict lowered himself to capture your lips again. Warm hands slipped up your sides, one taking a breast into it as he planted another peck to your cheek, whispering breathlessly into your ear, "Perfect..."

His lips pressed a kiss below your ear before trailing down your neck, past your collarbone and stopping at your chest. He mouthed at your breast, showering the soft skin in languid kisses. The hand that once held one slid between your legs, the pads of his fingers wasting no time in circling your clit. You let out a gasped moan, instinctively curling into his hand. Benedict's lips met your jaw as nimble fingers rubbed just a little faster.

Your own hand, unsure of what else to do, sneaked up his shoulder and rested at the nape of his neck, guiding him in for another kiss. His tongue expertly clashed with yours when you felt a finger slowly push into you. Benedict swallowed your moan, unable to hold back one of his own as he felt your heat clench around him. He gently thrusted into you, thumb returning to your neglected clit. As your lips departed, a quiet smack echoing between your bodies, your hips rolled to match his movements.

The way your pleading eyes looked up to meet his almost broke Benedict's resolve. It was almost like an angel had fallen from heaven and landed right beneath him. He studied the way your lips parted to allow breathy pants to escape, the glass-like shine in your stare begging him for more, the way your back arched when he applied just a little more pressure to your bud. God, if he wouldn't kill to paint the very sight into the recesses of his mind.

Benedict was admittedly never a patient man — a trait all Bridgertons carried if his nearly thirty years of experience with seven siblings was any indication — so it should have come as no surprise when he started growing antsy. The ache in his trousers was growing harder to ignore and, with a dejected whine from you, he slipped his hand away to undo the buttons. Your eyes were glued to his newly bared form. Benedict resumed his position above, hands roaming your figure again. Everything about you was perfect.

His fingers dragged across your ribs, running warm, gentle lines over them as he whispered, "Are you ready?" He hardly heard himself, lost in his head, admiring your body in another once-over. However, Benedict heard your breathy "yes" clearly. 

He took himself into one hand, holding the plush flesh of your thigh in the other as he aligned with your entrance. He slowly entered, breath hitching at the way your body welcomed him. Once he finally bottomed out, Benedict gripped your hips, blunt nails digging into them in a futile attempt to ground himself. He couldn't come before you, but the way you squeezed him, taking him as if created by God to do so, did not make that an easy feat.

Benedict was no virgin — hardly any man his age and status hadn't lain with someone — yet it suddenly felt as if he was. He gave an experimental, careful thrust, soon adjusting into a slow rhythm. As he gradually picked up speed, nearly resorting to recounting arithmetic from his schooling days to stave off the orgasm threatening to overtake him, one of his hands flew between your hips, thumb catching your clit once again. He needed you to come, needed to feel you tightening around him before he'd join you.

Maths could only do so much. 

Yet, as if some higher power had answered Benedict's prayer, your back arched, muscles tensing and moans growing louder as your release hit. His thumb continued its assault on you long enough to guide you through your high, your toes curling and hands ripping into the silk sheets below.

Once your body retracted from his touch, Benedict pulled out, replacing you with his hand, your arousal dripping from his cock as he finished himself off, tightly gripping the pillow by your head. With a high moan, he painted your stomach with his spend.

He sighed and crumbled to the bed beside you, his hand resuming its spot on your thigh. Benedict laid back and stared at the unfamiliar ceiling. He never wanted to let go, he thought with a subconscious squeeze of your flesh. As he replayed the events of the past few minutes in his head, the pieces were falling into place. His heart picked up speed, the satisfied expression he wore falling as he realized what he felt for you.

Benedict turned to your side, seeing that you too had been reflecting on the night as you bore up.

He never wanted to let you go, and the way you looked at him when you finally noticed his gaze told him that this wouldn't be the last time he'd see you.

[riki-riks-chick]

Senior Year CH.1 ︱N.RK

riki x reader (high school au)

yn is having a hellish year, but one boy makes it all the more bearable.

cw: fluff! bullying, high school, yn plays handball, toxic parents, toxic home life, swearing, slight verbal abuse.

wdct: 1.8k

requested series!

to the person who requested, pls give me feedback on whether this is good or not bc I WILL rewrite b4 continuing to part two. tyy <3

chapter 2 - chapter 3 - chapter 4 - chapter 5

┉┉┉┉┉┉┉┉┉┉┉┉┉

Third Person POV~

 "I'm actually quite shocked. You're doing exceedingly well.. I got a few emails from coaches who watched our last game.. If you're serious about handball when season starts, you might get a scholarship." Your coach explains, and you're genuinely shocked. Sure you'd been training your ass off, but no one usually acknowledges it.

"Really?.. A scholarship where?" You ask as she smiles, amused at your excitement. "The states... Some school in Virginia."  She explains as your eyes widen. "The states!? My mom would never let me go to the states."

"She's not in control of you once you graduate.. You're good.. Don't let her hold you back.. Now, go home after school and rest up.. We have practice tomorrow after school."

You leave, and rather than going home, you head to your job. Working at some burger shack that everyone at your school came to. It wasn't too bad, but you hated being noticed. 

And just to your dismay, these three cheerleaders, that love to make your life, hell walked in. 

You just happened to be the only employee on the register so you had no choice but to take their orders. 

And as you did so, begrudgingly, one of them spoke up. "Aren't you that loser from third period?.." 

You sigh, avoiding her gaze as you finish finalizing their order. "That'll be $23.45.." You ignore her remark, simply wanting to finish the order. She scoffs though, arms crossing tightly across her chest. "Are you not gonna answer me?... Fucking loser."

She pays for the order before walking over to some random seat to wait around for it, and you let out a sigh of relief. 

They've messed with you before, and you simply ignore it. It's better to take the shit than lose your job that you so desperately need, and worked hard to get.

You call the number for their order after a short while, giving them their drinks last as the tallest one of the girls scoffs. "This is the wrong drink." She then takes it out of the holder, throwing it at you, which results in you getting soaked in diet coke. It was, in fact, the right drink.

"What is wrong with you?" You try not to raise your voice, makeup and hair ruined, clothes soaked and sticking irritatingly against your skin, and she's just standing there with a smirk on her face. "You dumb bitch. Can't even get an order right." Just as you're about to retaliate, knowing that you didn't even make her order, someone grabs her wrist, tugging her away from the counter.

"That's enough.. Do you always go around giving people hell? At school, and now here..?" You glance up at the much taller figure gripping your offenders wrist, and you're slightly shocked at who it is.

It's the one boy that you've never heard speak in class, never seen him interact with other people despite his teammates on the basketball team. And yet he's popular.. Tall, handsome, and quiet. It's hard not to notice him.

When you finally snap back to reality, the three girls are storming out of the place and the boy is still standing in front of you, Nishimura Riki.

You've never imagined making eye contact with him, or speaking to him, but when his deep brown eyes meet yours, you immediately glance away, too flustered to continue looking him in the eyes.

He smiles gently, and there's a hint of pity in his eyes. "I'm sorry that happened.. Are you okay?..." His voice is slightly deep, and definitely nicely toned. You simply nod at his question, remembering that you're covered in soda.

"I'm fine.. I can take your order.." You try to deflect but he shakes his head. "No, let me take you home so you can change.. That can't be comfortable for you." 

His voice is very persuasive, and you decide not to argue, telling him to wait before walking into the kitchen to talk to your manager. 

"Mr. Rio...?" You inquire softly as the man glances up from his position at the grill, working on an order. "What happened?" He question, adjusting his glasses on the bridge of his nose.

"Some girl threw her drink at me...." Your explanation leaves him to nod understandingly. "Just go home.. I'll handle everything until I can call another person here." 

You question whether he's sure or not before grabbing your stuff and rounding the counter. Riki grabs your stuff for you, carrying your book bag and your waterbottle as he gestures for you to follow him. You follow him towards his car and it's nice, a black mercedes. You're already regretting your decision to let him take you home.

"I can't get in your car like this.." You sigh as he shakes his head. "It's fine.. I'll clean of the seat afterwards.."

You refuse at his words. "No... I don't wanna cause you any trouble..." You argue as he rolls his eyes. "Fine then..." He get in the driver's seat, reaching into the duffle bag in the backseat as he pulls put a towel, putting it on the seat. "Come on. Now I won't even have to worry about cleaning the seat."

You sigh, still hesitant, but you still get into the car. He smiles once you're seated, leaning over the console to reach for your seatbelt, fastening it for you.

"So, where do you live..?" 

The car ride to your house is excruciatingly silent. You're awkward, and he doesn't know how to speak to you. It's just terrible.

"This is my house.." You speak up quietly as he stops the car. "Well.. I guess I'll see you at school tomorrow?.." He asks as you nod, unfastening your seat belt and scrambling to get out of the car. "What was your name again?..." He asks as you sigh nervously. "I'm Y/n... L/n Y/n..." You answer as he nods. "Nice. I'm Nishimura Riki.."

And like an idiot, you respond, "I know..." Riki chuckles, smiling. "Then you'll know we have class together.. Don't forget to say hi."

He then drives off, leaving you on the pavement dumbfounded. After a few minutes, you shake it off, heading inside as you take off your shoes. Just to your luck, your mom is on her way out. 

"What are you doing home?.." Your mom questions, brows furrowed inquisitively as she slid into her sneakers. 

"Some girl threw a drink at me at work, so my boss let me go home..." You explain as she scoffs. "You're so weak... Your sister would've kept working.. Learn to endure."

And then she leaves, grabbing her keys before slamming the front door behind her. You hear the lock click shortly after, letting out a sigh of relief.

You hated being compared to your sister. She graduated with honors, and you're barely keeping A's and B's... She's just better... And your mom is no help, constantly comparing you to her. It's definitely not fair because your sister is far from perfect, but you try not to let it haunt you.

The first thing you do is shower, the icky feeling of the soda making your clothes cling to you uncomfortably. After showering, you wash the clothes to avoid the soda staining them permanently. Once all of that is handled, you're rummaging through the kitchen for something decent to eat. In the end, you're settling for pizza rolls and some instant ramen. 

After eating the very random meal, you head upstairs to work on your homework, but to your luck, you left it in the cute boy's car. 

Great, another assignment to fail. You think to yourself as you open your laptop, ready to email your teacher in hopes they'll be understanding. Just as you're about to hit send, a notification sounds on your phone, the screen illuminating with a text from an unknown number. 

You open it, and to your luck its Riki. 

[Hey, it's Riki. I found your backpack in the backseat... I would bring it back, but I'm busy tonight.. Is it okay if I give it back tomorrow?] 

You sigh at the text, deciding to just forget the email and hope that homeroom gives you enough time to complete the homework.

[Yeah.. Tomorrow is fine... I need it during homeroom.]

[Great, I'll be there as soon as school starts.]

You thank him before setting your phone on the desk, sighing loudly. This day has been terrible, practice sucked, you got a drink thrown at you, and now your backpack is at some boy's house all because you accepted a ride home.

You just decide to push everything aside, getting in bed and watching random corny kdramas until you fall asleep.

It's rare that you ever get a good night's rest. If you hadn't left work early, you'd barely be home at 8pm... Luckily you got to sleep a little earlier, but just as quickly as you got lucky, you got unlucky.

You wake up to loud sounds coming from downstairs, and you're already aware of the familiar yelling voices. 

You leave your room, heading quietly down the stairs as you hear your parents yelling, something about money and your dad being irresponsible. 

You're used to the banter, and sometimes you just filter it out, but the sounds of broken glass was slightly alarming.

You peek into the kitchen, your parents are at each other's throats, and eventually your mom just yells for your dad to get out.

The man manages one last rude remark before leaving the house, the door slamming loudly behind him.

Just as your mom walks out of the kitchen, you try to ask if she's alright, she simply pushes past you, heading upstairs quietly.

Your sister still isn't home. God knows what she's out doing this time of night, but you're sure it isn't working.

Almost every last penny of your paycheck goes to your mom, and your sister's paycheck is never the same amount. You know for sure she's blowing it off selfishly, and your mom knows too, but she doesn't care.

One time you bought a new pair of shoes with your check since your family wasn't too far behind on bills, and boy you never heard the end of it. That's why you just give all the money you make to your mother.

And yet she still favorites your older sister. But you try your best to please her anyway. In the end you really don't have a way to impress her, unless you won the lottery maybe.. 

You genuinely just want a normal senior year, and at this point you'll do anything to get it.

[boneblushed]

Untouchable

part 1 | part 2

synopsis it is crucial that the head boy and girl of Kildare Academy work together. Too bad the head girl is you and the head boy is Rafe Cameron.

wc 2K

Rafe Cameron likes to do this thing where he pretends that he's hopelessly in love with you.

Every morning, when you walk past him in the Academy carpark, he says, “Good morning, sweetheart.” Easy on the morning, rolling the sweet over his tongue so heart sounds thick as brown molasses. He always has his sleeves rolled up to his elbows, the emblem on his breast-pocket hidden behind a pair of sunglasses. Sometimes you humour him. Often you avoid acknowledging him altogether.

He has a tendency to call you every pretty noun under the sun except your actual name. Though he has a certain predilection for sweetheart, he’ll always follow up your carpark rendezvous—if you could even call it that—with a, “Wait up, beautiful!” Gorgeous if you’re particularly unlucky. You’re pretty sure he does this because it’s more convenient than remembering your name; that, or he’s covering his ass in case he mixes you up with the other girls on his roster.

“C’mon,” he adds, catching you up with ease, “think you can give me a smile today, birdie?”

That’s a new one. You frown hard, conveying your disapproval at being branded by yet another nickname against your will.

“Think you can show me you deserve it, Cameron?”

Rafe slaps his hand against his chest, faux-affronted. “Oof, I’m wounded.” He grins fondly. “You know that it’s bad luck to ice out the Head Boy on the first day, right?”

“Don’t remind me,” you mutter grimly, quickening your pace in an attempt to create some distance from him. It’s a futile attempt at hostility; he’s heading to the same handsome office that you are, home to the Academy’s once imposing headmaster.

He’s gotten soft over the years. It’s the only explanation, really, for why he’s chosen such a diametrically opposed duo to be the Head Boy and Girl respectively. Where you’re serious, unsmiling, easy on the eyes and hard on the ego, Rafe Cameron is this cocky, deceptively charming wall of solid muscle. He’s attractive in that way that’s made him every girl’s default love interest, and even worse, he enjoys the attention as much as you absolutely hate it.

“Remind you?” Rafe echoes, feigning bemusement. “Of what? That we’re partners now, partner?”

You force a breath of air out through your nose, halting in your tracks and turning to face him. He doesn’t think you look nearly as formidable as you want to, especially with that sweet, little furrow between your eyebrows. He tries to look earnest, as if proving his maturity is going to make you hate him any less than you do.

He’s to blame for the animosity, of course — callow, sophomore year him who called you “seriously fucking hot” in the boy’s locker room, and then in the gym, within earshot, added, “shame she’s such a frigid bitch, huh?” He didn’t mean it, and he was very clearly wounded; if you could’ve seen his face as he’d said it, maybe the cracks in his armour of indifference would’ve been more obvious. Maybe you would’ve realised he was deflecting from the fact that your rejection had really hurt him.

But then again, maybe you wouldn’t have. Because in what world was yelling “Go out with me?”—crudely, callously, you might add—from across the classroom meant to be taken for real? You’d assumed that sophomore year him was making fun of you. When you said no, he assumed that sophomore year you just wasn’t interested.

Fast forward two years, to now, it’s clear that neither of those assumptions were wholly true. You walk past the front reception and toward the headmaster’s office in tandem, halting just short of his closed door, a polished knocker hanging directly above eye-level.

As you reach up and press it against the smooth mahogany, you send him a wayward glance. “Just because we have to work together this year,” you say evenly, “doesn’t mean we have to be friends. Alright?”

“Yes ma’am.” He nods, sending you a mock salute.

This just makes you frown harder than before, as if that’s fucking possible. He’s going to get a smile out of you if it fucking kills him. “I mean it, Cameron.” You let go of the knocker to punch your forefinger into his chest, eyes narrowed sternly. “No more sweetheart, beautiful, gorgeous, honey, whatever. If there’s one thing I deserve, as your,” you raise your fingers in air-quotes, “‘partner’, it’s a bit of respect. That clear?”

He’s never once called you honey. He raises his eyebrows. “Darling?”

You let out this sigh that’s more disappointment than frustration, like you didn’t want to deal with this, like you almost expected more from him. It makes his mouth go dry. “You know what?” you say, shaking your head defeatedly. “Never mind. I thought... I don't know, I thought that if Cromwell’d chosen you to be the Head Boy, maybe you’d done some growing up since sophomore year. But clearly he's getting old, because —”

“Who’s getting old?” A pleasant voice interrupts, the mahogany door in front of you jolting open abruptly. “Miss Y/L/N,” Headmaster Cromwell adds, mock-austere. “I sure hope you aren’t talking about me.”

“Headmaster Cromwell,” you answer, eyes widening sheepishly. “I didn’t mean —”

“She was talking about me, Crom-dog,” Rafe pipes up, throwing him arm around your shoulder genially. When he pulls you into his side, the smell of his vetiver and musk cologne grows ever present. “Us. How we’re no longer the scrawny little freshmen we were when we first met you.”

He pauses, raising his eyebrows meaningfully. “Women, am I right? Always so sentimental.”

You resist the urge to roll your eyes, shaking him off in a hurry. “Anyway.”

“Anyway,” Rafe agrees with a grin, shoving his hands into his pockets. For the price you pay for a uniform blouse, he privately thinks it should be made of thicker fabric. He can still feel your soft skin pressing into all his finger calluses. “You wanted to see us, sir?”

He nods significantly, beckoning the two of you into his office. “Yes, yes, come in,” he says, taking a seat in his brown leather chair, the headrest cracking with age. “First day of senior year, eh? How are the two of you feeling?”

“Apprehensive,” you say, sending Rafe a glare.

He meets your gaze with something akin to amusement, his blue eyes full of mirth. “Sentimental.”

“Ah.” Cromwell raises his eyebrows, regarding the pair of you with interest. “And you’ll be conveying these emotions at your address this Friday, I imagine?”

Your head whips back to his desk, bottom lip pulling between your teeth. “Oh. Um —”

“Because of course,” he adds, clasping his hands together on his desk, “the start of year speech isn’t just tradition, it’s a collaborative effort. As head students, leading the fortnightly school assemblies is going to be one of your biggest responsibilities.”

“Right,” you agree, nodding vigorously. “I assure you, Headmaster Cromwell, it’s all under control.”

Rafe turns to face you, surprised. “It is?”

“Of course it is, Cameron,” you answer tiredly, not bothering to meet his gaze.

Cromwell frowns. “A collaborative effort, Miss Y/L/N.”

You swallow a sigh, plastering on a smile before turning in tandem and nodding. Fake though it may be, being on the receiving end of one of your smiles makes Rafe unusually pleased. He grins back handsomely, his head cocked toward you in a way that accents his stubbled jawline.

“All I’m saying is,” you say carefully, the smile becoming more gritted teeth than anything remotely amicable, “I’ve… made a start on it. I know that you’ve got football trials to organise, so I thought —”

“Successfully delegated,” Rafe interjects. “Got Ollie organising them this year.” He pauses, leaning toward you and clearing his throat. “You know… to free up time for this partnership.”

“Excellent!” Cromwell exclaims before you’re able to protest, clapping his hands together approvingly. “Already taking initiative. Excellent, excellent…”

He reaches for the hefty stack of papers to his left, plucking off the two forms at the top of the pile. “Here,” he says, handing one to each of you. “A suggested programme for your first meeting with this year’s prefects.”

You accept it with a nod, scanning over the template before folding it once, twice, careful. Beside you, Rafe throws his into his bag callously, threatening a migraine.

“As you know, alongside the school assemblies, you’ll be in charge of timetabling prefect duties and maintaining order. Of course, we’ll meet every fortnight or so so I can check in — ensure everything’s running as smoothly as possible.” He pauses here, looking between you through assessing grey eyes. “Being the face of this institution is a massive undertaking, you two. You’re responsible for more than just the student body… you’re responsible for Kildare Academy’s legacy.” Another pause. “It can be quite the burden. It’s important that you trust each other… know that you can rely on one another.”

You clear your throat gauchely. Rafe feels this strange jolt in his chest as Cromwell’s words wash over him.

You’re saved the awkwardness of having to respectfully disagree with him by the peal of the bell, signalling the start of first period. Cromwell springs up and nods in dismissal, the lapels of his suit jacket quivering like jowls. “Alright then!” He exclaims, smiling jovially. “I look forward to hearing your address this Friday!”

You return his smile, albeit reluctantly, avoiding eye contact with Rafe as you turn around and exit. Though you’re determined to make it to class without having to engage in any more conversation, it appears Rafe Cameron’s more determined to do the opposite.

Scratch unnecessary though. He’s pretty sure every precious second that he’s trying for more receiving-end smile is another that shows him time is of the essence.

“What did you reckon?” He asks, messing with his dirty-blonde locks absentmindedly.

The side of his elbow brushes your blouse, and you begin to walk faster, incensed by his closeness. Despite this, he refuses to back down, “Think it’s true? Him retiring this year? Cause shit, it’d explain all that crap about responsibility and legacy.”

You frown at your feet and continue to soldier forward. Rafe tries again, “Remember when Jake was head boy? Kelce’s older brother? Swear to God he didn’t get speeches like that from Crommy… I mean, shit, he was doing all this and organising football practice, not to mention all the parties he—”

“Look,” you interrupt abruptly, letting out a tired sigh. “Yeah, whatever, I won’t tell Cromwell, alright? As long as you just… just do everything you’re scheduled to do.”

Rafe turns toward you, frowning bemusedly. “Huh?”

“That’s what you’re getting at, right?” You ask impatiently, because you’re late and the second bell is about to ring and you really don’t have time for this, not with Rafe Cameron. “Doing the bare minimum just like Jake Smith did? Because yeah, whatever, that’s fine — in fact, I’d almost prefer it to trying to work together.”

Rafe draws back slightly, regarding you for a moment. “Huh.” A pause. “You think I don’t deserve it.”

You balk at his expression, something dejected behind blue irises. “Well, I,” you hesitate, “no. I just… I don’t want to work with someone who doesn’t consider this a priority.”

“You’re a priority to me,” he says, referring to the guy sophomore year you had once rejected.

“Not me,” you mutter irritatedly, cheeks warming. “Head student stuff. You know — all those things Jake Smith got away with not doing?”

“As I seem to recall,” Rafe replies matter-of-factly, unperturbed, “I’ve already delegated football trials to Ollie to free up time.”

“For the speech,” you say slowly, unsure.

For you. “For the speech,” Rafe affirms, looking down at you in this sincere way that makes your head hurt.

You swallow. “Alright then. We’ll do it Wednesday after school.”

Rafe grins triumphantly, nudging your chin with the hook of his forefinger. “Your place or mine, sweetheart?”

“Cameron,” you warn, ducking out of his reach with a frown.

“Sorry.” He nods faux-apologetically. “You prefer honey, yeah?”

“If you call me anything other than my name, I’ll murder you in your sleep.”

“In my sleep?” He asks, raising his eyebrows suggestively. “So you’ll be on my bed, huh? Knew it. Knew you had a secret thing for me.”

“School library, Cameron,” you say grimly, beginning to walk away. “4pm on Wednesday. Don’t be late.”

Rafe nods again, sending you a mock salute. “Oh don’t worry,” he calls after you. “I never keep a lady waiting.”

[stylesluxx]

intro (end of the world) – a.hotchner

[warnings: emotional infidelity? i mean, she tries to fight it]

summary: in which you and hotch are oblivious to your feelings about each other. but when you’re put in a dangerous position, all you can think about is your boss, not your boyfriend – inspired by intro (end of the world) by ariana grande

word count: 2,123

main masterlist

"So how long have you and Evan been together?" Emily asked, sitting on your desk, her curiosity evident.

You've always been good at blending in. It's one of the reasons you were recruited to the Behavioral Analysis Unit (BAU) in the first place. From day one, you made a solid impression—polite, competent, quick on your feet. You listen more than you talk, and when you do speak, your insights are sharp and intuitive. Well-liked by your team, you built solid professional relationships but kept a safe distance when it came to your personal life.

Friendly enough to avoid suspicion, distant enough so no one pries too deeply. You deflect personal questions with ease, and most of your colleagues chalk it up to professionalism. But deep down, you know there's more beneath the surface. The last thing you want is for them to start profiling you.

"About seven years," you reply, shrugging as you flip through paperwork.

"And he hasn't put a ring on it yet? I might need to talk to this guy," Derek huffs, half-joking but protective.

You chuckle, shaking your head. If only he knew it was you who had been holding off on marriage. Evan always talked about it, but you would quickly change the subject whenever he brought it up.

Evan is sweet, always thoughtful—like today, when he brought you lunch after you'd forgotten yours. After long, draining cases, you'd come home to warm bubble baths and a home-cooked meal. He's perfect in so many ways. But he just isn't the one.

And that guilt eats at you, especially since your attention has shifted to someone else. Someone who's not your boyfriend—someone who happens to be your boss.

Maybe it's Aaron Hotchner's stoic maturity, or maybe it's something more shallow, like his quiet authority. There's just something about him that pulls you in, making you question the stability you've built with Evan. And every time you catch a glimpse of Hotch from across the office, you can feel your heart skip, your eyes trailing after him as he moves from his office to the kitchen.

You aren't aware of the way your expression changes when he's around, but Derek and Emily notice. They exchange knowing glances, watching you.

"Do you even want to marry Evan?" Emily asks, her eyebrows furrowing in genuine concern.

"Um... Am I the only one with paperwork today?" you snap, a little more sharply than intended, but they let it slide.

"Uh-huh," Derek mutters as he wheels his chair back to his desk, throwing you a suspicious look.

Days pass, and the unspoken tension between you and Hotch continues to grow, lingering in the air whenever you're in the same room. It's subtle, barely noticeable to anyone else, but Emily and Derek see it—the way Hotch's expression softens ever so slightly when he talks to you, the warmth in his eyes that doesn't seem meant for anyone else.

On the jet, during one of your cases, you sit across from him, flipping through files, pretending not to notice the fleeting looks he gives you. His focus appears to be on the case, as always, but there's something more behind those glances—a quiet intensity, a lingering warmth.

You remind yourself that this is Hotch, your boss. And more than that, you have a boyfriend—a long-term relationship, years of shared history. But despite all that, your thoughts keep drifting back to Aaron Hotchner.

Each day, you feel the pull between you grow stronger, even though neither of you acknowledges it. You find yourself replaying those quiet moments over and over, wondering if he feels it too.

—

You hear the familiar creak of the stairs as Hotch steps out of his office, his presence instantly filling the large space. There's always something about him—calm, controlled, but with an undercurrent of intensity that keeps everyone on their toes.

"Got a minute?" His voice is low, professional, but you can sense something else beneath it.

You nod, setting aside the case file you've been pouring over. "Sure, what's up?"

He steps further into the room, closing the door behind him. The move feels deliberate, as if he wants this conversation to stay between the two of you. Your pulse quickens slightly, though you keep your expression neutral.

"I wanted to talk to you about your performance on the last case," he begins, his dark eyes locking onto yours. "You did a great job. Your profiling helped us narrow down the suspect pool quickly."

You blink, a little thrown. Praise from Hotch isn't unheard of, but it's never casual. There's always an underlying purpose, some reason behind the compliment.

"Thank you," you say, watching his face carefully for any hints of what's really on his mind.

For a moment, he doesn't speak. His gaze lingers on you, and you feel the weight of it. There's something unspoken, something he's holding back. The silence stretches just long enough for you to feel the tension prickling your skin. You've worked with Hotch long enough to know that he doesn't waste time with unnecessary conversation. He's always direct. But right now, there's hesitation—like he's trying to decide whether to say what he's really thinking.

"I know you've been working long hours," he says finally, his tone softening just a fraction. "And I know the job can take its toll."

There it is. The concern, the acknowledgment that this job drains you in ways even you haven't fully admitted to yourself. You open your mouth to brush it off, to give him the same measured response you've given others a hundred times before, but something about the way he's looking at you makes you stop.

"Yeah," you say instead, your voice quieter than you intended. "It's... been a lot."

Hotch takes a small step closer, and you catch the faintest hint of something—empathy? Understanding? Whatever it is, it unnerves you. You've kept your distance from him for a reason, kept this professional line between you, because crossing it feels dangerous in ways you can't explain.

"I don't want to lose a good agent," he says, his voice firm but not unkind. "If you need time, or space, you should take it."

You nod, but inside, you're reeling. He's always so composed, so unreadable, and yet right now you feel like he's seeing too much—like he's peeled back a layer you didn't want him to see.

"I appreciate that, Hotch," you manage, forcing a small smile. "But I'm fine. Really."

He studies you for another long moment before finally nodding. "Alright. Just... don't forget that."

And with that, he turns to leave. But even after the door closes behind him, you find yourself replaying the conversation in your mind. The way his eyes softened, the way his voice dipped just slightly when he talked about losing an agent. You can't shake the feeling that there was more he wanted to say, something just out of reach.

For weeks after, the encounter lingers at the back of your mind, resurfacing at odd moments. You think about the way he looked at you, the way his words seemed to carry more weight than usual. And even though you try to push it aside, try to focus on the cases piling up on your desk, you can't quite shake the feeling that something shifted between the two of you in that brief conversation.

Then, it happens. One night, you're caught alone in a warehouse, separated from your team during an intense takedown. The darkness presses in around you, thick and suffocating, as you try to stay calm. The unsub's footsteps echo in the distance, growing closer.

You're no stranger to dangerous situations, but this one feels different. The panic claws at you as you grip your gun tighter, your mind racing. They'll find me soon, you tell yourself, but it's a hollow comfort.

And in the midst of your fear, a face flashes in your mind—not Evan's. It's Hotch. His steady presence, his calm voice telling you to breathe, to focus. You can almost feel him guiding you out of the darkness, keeping you grounded.

Why is it him?

You shake the thought, but it's there—insistent. In this moment, when your life is on the line, it's not Evan you long for. It's Hotch.

The unsub's voice taunts you from the shadows, but you can't focus on his words. All you can think is Hotch. You push yourself to move, to fight through the fear. You will survive this. You have to.

And when you burst through the warehouse door, heart pounding, it's Hotch's face you see first. He's there, waiting, and for a moment, the rest of the world disappears. His eyes lock on yours, and you know—deep down, you've always known—it's not just one-sided.

"Are you okay?" he asks, gripping your shoulders with the same steady, grounding presence you've been clinging to in your mind.

You nod, barely able to speak. All you can think is, I made it. And when I thought I wouldn't, it was him I needed.

Weeks later, you find yourself sitting at home with Evan. The silence between you feels heavier than it used to, and you know why. You've been checked out of this relationship for a while now. Even though Evan is everything you could want on paper, he isn't what you need anymore. And the more you try to ignore it, the more obvious it becomes.

"I think we need to talk," you say softly, breaking the quiet.

Evan looks at you, his expression confused, then slowly understanding. It's not an easy conversation, but it's the right one. You can't keep pretending that your heart is in this relationship when your mind—and your feelings—are somewhere else.

At the office the next day, you throw yourself into work, grateful for the distraction. But you stay late, not wanting to go home to the empty apartment that once felt like a safe haven.

"Y/N, what are you still doing here? It's almost 2 AM."

You jump at Hotch's voice, surprised to find him standing beside your desk. He's usually long gone by now.

"I didn't hear you come down," you say, a soft smile tugging at your lips as your heart races.

He sits down across from you, his expression more open, more relaxed than usual. "You've been through a lot lately," he says, his voice quiet. "Do you want to talk about it?"

For a moment, you hesitate. This is your chance—your one chance to finally say what's been on your mind. To admit what you've been feeling all along.

"I ended things with Evan," you say softly, looking down at your hands.

Hotch's brow furrows in concern. "I'm sorry to hear that."

You shake your head. "Don't be. I've been checked out for a while now."

He's silent for a moment, then speaks again, his voice careful. "I never wanted to pry, but... if there's anything you need, I'm here."

His words, simple as they are, hit you harder than you expect. And before you can stop yourself, the truth spills out.

"Aaron," you whisper, your heart pounding. "There's something I need to tell you."

He looks at you, waiting.

"I've tried to push it down, but I can't anymore. It's not just about Evan. When I was in that warehouse, when I thought I might not make it... all I could think about was you. Not him. You. And that's when I knew. When it comes to how my day was, the only person i want to tell is you. When I'm scared for my life, all I can think of is you. If the world was ending, I'd want to be with you."

His expression shifts, surprise flickering across his face. He stands slowly, walking toward you.

"Are you sure about this?" he asks, his voice quiet, almost hesitant. "I don't want you to regret what you're saying."

You meet his gaze, tears stinging at the corners of your eyes. "I've never been more sure of anything."

For a moment, the world around you fades, and it's just the two of you. Finally, he reaches out, his hand brushing against yours.

"I've thought about it too," he admits, his voice rough with emotion. "I never wanted to cross a line, but..."

You don't let him finish. You step forward, closing the distance between you.

"I think it's worth a try," you whisper.

And with that, everything else falls away. The unspoken tension, the years of quiet moments, the what-ifs—they all dissolve as you step into this new chapter, side by side.

[AN: not my first CM fic. if you want to join my taglist, here’s the info page!]

[ripleyresonance]

Out of my Control

Rhea Ripley x OC

Leah has always had her life together and is always in control. But when she meets Rhea Ripley maybe letting go sometimes isn't so bad after all.

Word count: 5936

Warnings: Cursing, Spanking, Gagging, Spit, Countdown, A little bit of angst.

Leah had a very particular routine. Every morning she would wake up at 5:00 am sharp. From 5 to 5:15 she would open the New York Times on her phone and catch up on current events. After that, she would take a shower. Cold, of course, to wake her up a bit more. She would make an English muffin lightly toasted with butter and a glass of cold brew with a splash of her favorite oat milk-based creamer. She was out the door to go to work at 7:00 to arrive at the office by 8:00. 

People at work respected her. Everyone would acknowledge her and wish her a good morning or afternoon when she walked by. She always was the best dressed and everything at her desk was arranged to make her work day more efficient. Needless to say, she was in control. And she loved it that way. But in her romantic life, she wanted the opposite. She wanted to let go and have someone else make her decisions. She wanted them to pick the restaurant. Pick the time – hell, sometimes she’d even love for them to pick what she would wear. And a few months ago she found just that. 

“Come on Leah, you have to come out with us.” Her friend Tiffany groaned, putting her head in Leah's lap. 

“Yeah Leah, I feel like if we left you alone on another Friday night your vagina might shrivel up and fall off.” Her other friend Bri chimed in. 

Bri, Leah, and Tiffany were all roommates freshman year of college and could not have been more different. Believe it or not, Leah had even been more uptight back then. She refused to hang out with them, dedicating all of her time to her studies. But one terrifying night they thought someone was breaking into their apartment. 

They all hid in Bri’s room with a baseball bat until they found out it was just a raccoon who had found out how to kick open the door. Ever since that night, the girls were pretty much inseparable. 

“I reallyyy don’t though. Don't you normally go to ‘The Keg’ I mean could they have come up with any better of a name?” Leah groaned pushing past Tiffany to stand up from the coach to go refill her currently empty wine glass. 

“Um yeah, the bartender thinks I’m hot so we normally get free drinks,” Tiffany said, propping herself up on her elbow. 

“You literally work in accounting…I know what you make, you can afford drinks.” Leah said.

“She definitely can but that does not mean she has to…also you’re deflecting! Cmon we can't let you stay in on a Friday night for the hundredth time in a row. Bri said, coming to the counter behind Leah. 

“But I love my Friday night routine. Wine, my favorite snacks, my favorite shows and! My bed. You cannot find those at a bar.” Leah said. 

Tiffany rested her chin on Leah’s shoulder. 

“That’s the most depressing thing I have ever heard…you sound like you are eighty years old.”

“Or a depressed housewife,” Bri said. 

“I’ve always been told I have an old soul,” Leah said, shaking her arm like an old lady, making them both laugh.

Tiffany moved around her jumping up to sit on the counter facing Leah. 

“I’m just worried about you Leah….ever since Krista broke up with you–” Tiffany started. 

“Ah ah. No Krista talk, you promised.” Leah frowned. 

“And we promise we will stop feeling bad for you and not drag you out for the next six months if you just come out with us tonight,” Bri said, moving Leah's hair behind her ear. 

Leah looked at both of the friends dreading her reaction. It was like all critical thoughts left her head regarding them. This is exactly what happened way too many nights in college and it always ended up with Leah picking one of them off the bathroom floor. 

“UGHHHHHHH. Fine but only two drinks.” Leah said.

Tiffany and Bri squealed and jumped off the counter hugging her. “I knew you would cave! We are going to have so much fun, just like old times. BLT hitting the town again!” Tiffany said as Leah and Bri rolled their eyes.

“Girl even I might stay in if you use that awful nickname again” Bri said. 

“Yeah Tif, I think that died the night after you were talking to that girl who offered you a sandwich on the sidewalk.” Leah shuddered at the memory.

“Yeah, some questionable choices were made that night.” Tiffany agreed.

“Anyway go shave…whatever your situation is down there and put on something CUTE not one of your business casual shirts,” Bri remarked. 

“Yeah between the business casual attire and the ice queen attitude you give to any stranger that approaches us, you are kind of scaring the hoes,” Tiffany said. 

“Nope, no guys I am serious. No girls tonight, just us. I’m not looking for another subpar one night stand with some girl named ‘Angel’ who won't call me back.” Leah said. 

“A girl sets you up on one bad date and I never hear the end of it,” Bri said, making them all laugh. 

Leah had had enough drama with Krista and everyone felt bad for her. If she had to go out, she at least wanted to spend time with her best friends. 

“Okay fineeeeee I promise. It’s just us.” Tiffany said, extending her pinky. 

“Just us.” Bri agreed putting her pinky in the mix. 

“Always.” Leah smiled, sealing the deal. 

Pinky promises used to mean something back in elementary school but apparently, all that went out the window as the girls had barely finished one drink and Leah went to the bathroom and came back to Tiffany with her tongue down some woman’s throat. 

Leah rolled her eyes, sitting back down next to Bri. 

“Damn, I thought she might make it to drink two before she ditched us. Leah said 

“C'mon you know as well as me telling her she can't do something is going to make her do it that much faster,” Bri said taking a sip of her drink. 

Leah sighed, thinking of how she was going to get Tiffany out of there until Bri choked on her drink.

“Woah who is THAT,” Bri said nodding past Leah. 

Leah turned her head, looking at the seats further down the bar to see two women who looked impressively fit. One had long brown hair about mid-way down her back. She had on a classic pair of blue jeans and a strapless top which emphasised how impressive her back muscles were. But the other woman was who caught Leah’s attention. 

She had jet-black hair in a wolfcut style. She had a few nose piercings and an eyebrow slit – immediately setting off Leah’s fuck-girl radar. 

“Ah ah no that one is bad news.” Leah shook her head turning back to Bri. 

“Omg so quick to judge! What makes you say that?” Bri replied. 

“Um hello?? The piercings? The eyebrow slit? The tattoos? She is like the poster child for bad decisions.” Leah said, shaking her head. 

“Well, what if I wanted to make some bad decisions? Bri said, wiggling her eyebrows. 

“Then I would tell you to DM Jenna again, not find a new problem. I know exactly what her type is and trust me you want nothing to do with Miss Wolf Cut over there.” Leah said, sipping her drink.

“Damn, it seems like I already made a bad impression then?” Leah heard a voice from behind her. 

Both Leah and Bri choked on their drink, turning around to face the woman and her friend. 

“Pretty arrogant of you to assume we were talking about you,” Leah said coldly, making Bri and the woman's friend make a face.

“Arrogant or observant?” The stranger raised an eyebrow. 

“Anyway me and my friend were just about to leave so excuse us,” Leah said, turning around to flag the bartender. 

Leah heard the woman's friend mumble something back to her along the lines of, “Let's go sit down again” but the woman ignored her. 

When the bartender returned to the group, Leah could barely get a word in before the woman with the wolf cut spoke up again. 

“I'll do another whisky sour and the lady will take…a cosmo” She smirked, eyeing Leah’s glass. Leah went to protest but the bartender went straight to work. 

Leah turned to complain to Bri as she saw her now chatting up the brunette with the long hair. 

She sighed, accepting defeat as the woman with the tattoos sat in the barstool next to her. 

“So how often do you do this? Go to some shitty dive bar and try and pick up your next victim.”

“Victim?” the woman laughed “You think I am that type?”

“I don't think so, I know so,” Leah replied shortly.

“And why is that sweetheart?”  The woman asked as the bartender passed her her new drink. 

“Because I’ve fallen for women like you before. You exude this confidence you walk around like anyone should be honored to have the pleasure of sleeping with you.”  Leah explained. 

“So you admit it, I am your type.” The woman smirked, causing Leah to roll her eyes. 

The stranger laughs, finishing her drink and slamming it onto the bar. 

“Well miss….” The stranger paused waiting for her name. 

“Leah,”She offered.

“Well miss Leah I'll get out of your business but I…hope we run into each other again. I don’t think this was the only time we are meant to meet.” She winked at Leah before getting up, placing money on the bar, and grabbing her friend to head out. 

After they left Bri scooted over to Leah again. 

“So you got her number right?!” Bri said excitedly. 

“In her dreams,” Leah said, taking the last swig of her drink. 

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

By the time April came around Leah was as busy as ever. Work really picked up and she had been running around the city like a chicken with its head cut off. Event planning was no joke. The clients could be demanding and annoying but hey – at least Leah was getting paid. 

This particular day was not going her way though. She had slept through her 5 am alarm so she had to do her morning routine in twenty minutes. Once she was in the office, one of the interns spilled coffee on her. The rest of the day was meetings and clients yelling over the phone followed by more meetings. By the time Leah had put out all the fires it was pushing 9pm. She sighed as she turned off the light in her office and headed for her car. 

She turned on the meditations that she did not get to practice this morning and started her commute home. It was only about 25 minutes, Garnet Valley was a small town but cutting through downtown could save Leah about five minutes and based on the downpour she would take all the time off she could get. Leah gripped the wheel tight leaning forward to see through her windshield wipers. The more it rained the louder she tuned up her mediation…which was the reason she did not hear her check engine light go off. 

She continued at a slow pace until the car jerked, alarming her. She turned down her meditation a bit, finally hearing the light beep on the indicator. 

“No no no” Leah started whispering to herself as her car jerked again. 

She was just on the edge of downtown as she pulled over the car, making sure to jerk once more before she turned it off. 

Leah waited for about three minutes before turning on the car again, the engine sputtering a few times before stalling. She repeated this two or three times before pulling out the keys. 

“FUCK.” Leah shouted, laying her head on her wheel. 

She let a few tears slip before she looked at her phone.

She couldn’t call Tiffany because she was out of town for work. 

Bri was around but she was on a third date with a girl she really liked. And Leah would rather walk home than ruin her friend’s date. 

She sighed, getting in contact with AAA to come tow her car. They said they would be there “soon” but based on her experiences in college she knew that could mean five hours right now. 

She saw that there was a gas station across the street from where she stalled out, so begrudgingly she decided that is where her dinner would be. 

She bundles up her thin hoodie, locked the car and ran across the street – almost slipping a few times. 

As she walked in, the cashier gave her a nod and she strolled through the isles. 

She grabbed a beef jerky stick, a bag of potato chips and a diet coke. 

She normally would never be caught dead consuming such garbage but honsetly this day could not get any worse…

“Is that you Cosmo girl?” she heard a familiar voice say. 

Leah froze in her tracks, beef stick a quarter eaten. There was no way it could be her. 

As Leah turned around she was greeted with the woman's familiar figure. 

She looked a bit different. Her hair was now mid back lengthand she was wearing a big t-shirt and joggers. Leah questioned how she could look so good in such plain clothes. 

As the woman's eyes got big at the sight of Leah she finally caught what she looked like in one of the mirror in the corner of the store. 

Leah was in a zipped up hoodie with her hood pulled up. Her hair frizzing up underneath and poking through a bit. Her jeans and blouse were soaked and her face… well if it wasn’t the rain that made her makeup run. It was her tears from the car. To complete the look with the several snacks she had in hand was mortifying.

And the woman could sense it, laughing loudly. 

Leah blushed with embarrassment, going to walk past her to pay. 

“Hey hey.. The stranger said gently, grabbing her arm as she passed. “I’m sorry. You just caught me by surprise with your new…look.” The woman held back a giggle. 

“Ha ha laugh it up.” Leah mumbled. 

“C’mon Cosmo girl.Let me pay for your snacks as an apology…you look like you need a pick-me-up.” The woman said, taking the snacks out of her hand and heading to the register. 

Leah didn’t even put up a fight, she was so embarrassed. To be seen in such a vulnerable state made her uneasy. The woman snapped her out of her thoughts. 

“Here you go…Leah.” The woman said handing over a bag as Leah gave a polite thank you. 

The woman raised her eyebrow, perplexed by the seemingly different person standing before her than at The Keg a few months ago. 

“Did you park far? I can help you out with my umbrella.” The woman said as the pair exited the convenience store. 

“Kind of…my car broke down,” Leah said quietly. 

“Damn, you really have had a shit day huh?” The woman said. 

Leah nodded finally looking up at the woman. Her eyes were not the same as when they first met. They were not filled with mischief or lust just…saddness? Pity? And that made Leah want to run and hide. 

“I called AAA. They should be here soon.” Leah said, clearing her throat and breaking eye contact again. 

“So like five hours?” The woman said. 

The two women looked at each other again as they burst out laughing. Leah started laughing so hard she started crying…almost sobbing. This was her low, her rock bottom, being soaked in a rainstorm after a shit day. 

“Well listen I know you may not like what I am about to suggest but do you want to wait at my place? I live right there.” The woman said, pointing to a window about two blocks away.

Leah sighed, thinking of course this was a convenient way to get Leah back to the stranger's home. She had seen horror movies start…and end like this. 

As soon as she opened her mouth to make a smart comment she noticed a familiar vehicle pulling up out of her peripheral. 

It couldn’t be…this had to be a joke. 

And yet when the woman stepped out of her car there she was. Krista. The same Krista that said that Leah was “The One”. The same Krista who said no one or nothing would ever come between them. And yet that was the same Krista who broke up with her by leaving a note and clearing out their apartment while Leah was on a business trip. 

Leah’s heart sank as she could tell tears were beginning to form. She quickly turned to the woman who got her the snacks. 

“Actually yes that sounds so nice. Lead the way!” Leah laughed nervously. 

The woman looked at her, obviously confused by the sudden shift in demeanor from Leah. But as Leah’s gaze shifted between her and the woman pumping gas she put it together that that was not someone Leah wanted to see right now. So she obliged. 

Upon entering the apartment Leah was not surprised by the decor. It was like the den of a vampire. All of the furniture was black. There were hints of purple accents on the walls and on some side tables. But it seemed very on-brand for….for this woman? It hit Leah that not only was she in a stranger's apartment, but she had no idea what her name was. 

“Make yourself at home.” The woman said, taking off her boots. 

“Thank you…uh..” Leah said.

The woman looked up.

“Rhea,” She replied back with a smile. 

“Let me go get you a towel and a change of clothes. You're going to get sick if you stay in those.” Rhea said, passing her to go to what Leah presumed was her bathroom. 

As she passed Leah got a whiff of her scent again smelling stronger from the rain as a strong emphasis of Burgemont stuck out to her. 

Rhea prepared everything in the bathroom and let Leah take her time promising her she would look out for the tow truck in the meantime. 

As Leah let the warm water envelope her body, she reflected on the day. She knew Krista lived in the same town. They were bound to run into each other. But catching Leah off guard was rare. It threw her into a state of vulnerability she was highly uncomfortable. I mean, it had been almost a year since their break up but Leah was always in control.

 She was able to predict Krista’s every move. But now it seemed like she did not even recognize the woman anymore..or maybe she didn’t recognize herself. 

Leah got out of the shower and looked at the clothes Rhea had laid out. She definitely would not typically wear any of these garments. The shirt was black with a soft white design of what she assumed was a band logo in the center. The sweatpants were admittedly comfortable but a little big. She pulled at the drawstring. 

She wiped her face for a final time before heading back into the living room. Rhea sat on the window-sill watching her car as she promised. 

Leah cleared her throat so as to not scare her. Rhea turned to her. 

Rhea’s eyes widened with an emotion Leah could not exactly make out. 

“You look...normal,” Rhea said. 

“Normal?” Leah said, crossing her arms. 

“Not as an insult more like ... .yourself and not some Queen of Ice ready to behead one of her subjects…or a woman buying her a drink in a bar.” Rhea laughed. 

“Even Your Majesty has off moments.” Leah sighed heavily plopping down on the couch. 

“So…who was the woman at the gas station,” Rhea asked, catching Leah off guard. 

“I don’t see why she would be any of your business,” Leah said coming off a bit more harsh than she intended. 

“C’mon, sweetheart. I bought you your fabulous dinner, let you shower, and wear my favorite sweatpants. The least you can do is give me a little backstory. “ Rhea said, moving to the opposite side of the couch from Leah. 

Leah looked at her expecting a shit-eating grin but the woman looked genuinely interested. 

“Did she do anything to you?” Rhea whispers, clenching her fist a little.

“NO no god no – not like that.” Leah quickly said. 

“She's just an…ex. Who I didn’t want to see me like that.” Leah admitted. 

Rhea sat back in relief but still questioned. “Messy breakup?”

“If you consider leaving a note saying. ‘I used to enjoy thinking about our forever but who could stand to be someone who loves their reputation more than me messy than yes, very.” Leah said, causing Rhea to wince. 

“Yeah, I think that counts as messy.” Rhea agreed, earning a small smile from Leah.

“You do give off a very strong aura,” Rhea admitted. “That's why I went and flirted with you at the bar.” 

“You liked the fact that I seemed to be almost… repulsed at your flirting?” Leah questioned looking at Rhea. 

“I admit you were a tough shell to crack but I noticed something else underneath that cool and mean exterior,” Rhea said, motioning her hands toward Leah. 

“Oh yeah and what was that?” Leah asked. 

“Excitement,” Rhea smirked, causing Leah to look away from her. 

“I have no idea what you mean.” Leah cleared her throat causing Rhea to laugh. 

“It was only for a second but I could see the look in your eye when I ordered the drink for you. It was like you were relieved and turned on at the same time. “ Rhea said boldly. 

Leah's eyes widened. 

“I was NOT turned on. I hate not being in control. What if I had wanted something else? What if I wanted to switch my drink.” Leah said. 

“I agree, you seem like you need to be in control of most things in your life but…” Rhea said, moving closer to Leah on the couch. “ I think sometimes you like to give other people control if they prove themselves to you.” 

Leah blushed at her forwardness, standing up. Feeling uncomfortable with the ache she was starting to feel in between her legs.  

  “I think you like to assume a lot of things about me, Rhea,” Leah said, going to glance out of the window still– no truck in sight.  

“Like what?” Rhea said, sitting back and spreading her legs a bit. 

“Like the fact that I wanted more than one Cosmo at that bar or the fact that you assumed I had a history with my ex at the gas station and that you assumed if you were able to get me back to your apartment I would just go weak at the knees and beg you to take control of me.” Leah ranted pacing back and forth before stopping in front of Rhea.

Leah looked down at Rhea, her breathing getting heavier as Rhea slowly stood up from the couch towering over Leah as the two got close. 

“And am I wrong assuming that maybe you came back to my place because you knew I was exactly the person who could take care of you after such a rough day?” Rhea whispered, moving a curl behind Leah’s ear. 

The pair breathed quicked as Leah looked up at Rhea as she licked her lips looking at Leah with such affection yet equal parts lust. 

Leah would never be so reckless. This woman only learned her name twenty minutes ago and now she was inching closer and closer to climbing on top of this woman. How could she let go so easily? 

Rhea bent down to her ear and whispered.

“All you have to do is ask princess…and I’ll take care of you,” Rhea said grabbing her hand and ghosting her lips over Leah’s neck. 

Leah’s head mind was racing. There was no way she was going to fall for this woman's spell would she? And yet the only words that came out of her mouth were. 

“Please…” Leah whispered. “Fuck me” 

That was all Rhea needed to finally press her lips against Leah's throat. 

Rhea’s hands shifted down to her hips pulling Leah’s body flush against hers causing Leah to let out a satisfied moan. 

As Rhea bit her neck lightly Leah did not even think about the fact she would have a hickey to cover tomorrow just that she wanted more of this feeling. Rhea kissed Leah’s throat, sighing before pressing her lips against Leah’s. 

“I thought you would never ask” Rhea smirked, moving her lips in tandem with Leah. 

The kiss was so deep Leah barely noticed Rhea sitting them both on the couch as Leah straddled Rhea continuing to press into her. 

Rhea moved her hands up from Leah's waist grabbing one of her breasts.

“This okay?” Rhea paused for a moment coming up for air. 

Leah nodded, leaning in to kiss her again. 

“Ah ah, princess I need to hear you say it. Say you want me to handle these gorgeous tits.” Rhea groaned. 

Leah would typically never say such a vulgar sentence but with the pulse coming from between her legs getting stronger Leah had no problem saying it.

“Please play with my tits.” 

Rhea obliged quickly, taking Leah’s shirt and throwing it haphazardly across the room. 

Since Leah's Bra was soaked it was no surprise either woman when there was no bra to be found. 

Leah moaned as Rhea kissed down her cheek grabbing one breast and licking a painfully slow swipe across her left nipple. 

“Fuck I can barely fit them in my hands.” Rhea seemed to mumble to herself before taking one nipple in her mouth. 

As Rhea sucked and licked and teased Leah’s breast she was not naive to feel Leah’s hips start to buck in search of any friction. 

Rhea grinned looking up at Leah as she pulled back biting her nipple before letting it go with a gasp from Leah. 

“Sorry, I would love to tease these all day but I have something else I need to take care of,” Rhea said grabbing Leah’s hips and rolling the pain so Leah was now sitting on the couch with Rhea going on her knees between Leah’s legs. 

“Since the minute you stepped out here in my clothes all I could think about is how they would look on my floor.” Rhea flashed her shit-eating grin. 

Leah was about to get out a witty comeback but the words quickly left her brain as Rhea began tugging on the waistband of Leah’s sweatpants making sure to kiss every inch of her exposed skin as she finally got them off discarding them amongst the pile building in the corner.  

Rhea kissed up Leah’s thigh getting dangerously close to her heat as Leah’s eyes widened in anticipation. Rhea looked up at Leah panting and biting her lip down at Rhea. 

Rhea paused shaking her head for a moment. 

“Is something wrong? “ Leah said sitting up a bit before Rhea grabbed her hips pinning her in place. 

“The opposite princess.” Rhea smiled grabbing her wrist and kissing it tenderly. 

“You look like a work of art…and I can’t wait to ruin you,” Rhea said whispering the last part as she sat back on her knees, hooked her arms under Leah’s thighs, and licked a long stripe up to Leah’s clit. 

Leah threw her head back as the feeling of ecstasy took over.

Leah was attracted to Rhea when they first met in the bar, whether she wanted to admit it or not.  But she looked absolutely sinful right now. As her tongue continued to dance across Leah’s clit  Leah began to truly observe Rhea. The way her eyes fluttered between looking up at Leah or closing them to focus on her meal. The groans she would let out when Leah started moaning in a higher pitch. But what sent her over the edge was when she moved one hand so she could massage Leah’s clit as her she flicked her tongue in and out of Leah. The way her muscles tightened as Leah reached her peak had her crying out Rhea’s name as she came on her tongue. 

Rhea slowed down the pace of massaging her clit so Leah could ride out her high as Rhea got up straddling Leah. Leah finally opened her eyes in time to see Rhea slide her thumb over Leah’s lips and part them a bit.

Leah waited in anticipation as Rhea connected their lips, her tongue immediately begging for entrance. Leah tasted herself off of Rhea's tongue. 

Leah tried to grab Rhea’s hips to sit her down on her lap until Rhea stopped her with a smile. 

“I’m not done with you yet,” Rhea said, getting up and offering her hand to Leah as she led her to her bedroom. 

Leah went from being pressed against the bedroom door to Rhea’s vanity to finally lying on her back in Rhea’s bed. 

Leah watched curiously as Rhea stripped, putting on a harness. Leah bit her lip watching her back muscles flex as she bent over attaching a purple dildo to the harness before turning around. 

Rhea caught Leah looking, giving her a wink before walking over and sitting on the edge as Leah crawled up to her. 

“Mind getting it wet for me sweetheart?” Rhea said in a deeper town stroking Leah's curls before grabbing a fist full as Leah’s eyes widened in excitement. 

Leah got on the floor between Rhea's legs as she quickly offered her a pillow to rest her knees on. 

Leah was practically salivating when she grabbed the dildo with one hand spitting on the tip and letting Rhea watch it drip down. 

Rhea let out a low “Fuck” as Leah started taking it in her mouth Leah batted her eyelashes up at Rhea as she tried to take it to the base. 

“That's a good girl,” Rhea said as Leah slowly started bobbing her head up and down on the dildo getting it soaked in spit. Her arousal grew more and more as she imagined it inside of her. 

Rhea grabbed a fist full of Leah’s curls again telling her to open as Rhea started fucking her throat. 

Leah tried to open her throat as wide as possible, letting Rhea violate her. Leah looked up at Rhea while she gagged and she could have sworn that almost made her cum. 

Rhea let go of Leah’s hair and helped her off her knees as she said she needed her right now telling Leah to lay ass up facing the foot of the bed 

“As if you couldn’t look any more sexy – look at this ass,” Rhea said, slapping it and getting behind Leah. 

Leah hissed at the sting as she felt the dildo start rubbing up and down her pussy.

Rhea teased her lining up with her entrance and pushing in just a little bit before pulling out. She did this about three more times before Leah started whining. 

“Please…please,” Leah begged, apparently too quiet. 

“What was that princess? You’re going to have to beg louder than that.” Rhea said repeating the same motion but a little bit deeper this time. 

“Fuck Rhea please you already have me bent over,” Leah said exasperated. 

Rhea went just deep enough to drive Leah crazy as she begged loudly this time.

“Oh my god Rhea please fuck me take control and make me…FUCK.” Leah almost screamed as Rhea fully slid inside her. 

Rhea was stroking painfully slow at first making sure to fill her pussy up as far as she could but after a minute or so she started to pick up the pace. 

Leah could not imagine how sinful the noises must have sounded to anyone who could have passed. Even on the street below Leah was sure that if it was not pouring rain her moans would have echoed down the street. 

“God you look so pretty taking my cock…look at yourself,” Rhea said, grabbing Leah's hair again and making her sit up flush against her. Leah looked up to a mirror that was in front of them. And she could barely recognize herself. Her hair was a mess half in Rhea’s hands the other half sprawled outward. Her tits bounced with every stroke Rhea did and she could tell Rhea was staring hard at them. She could also see the outline of the dildo poking at her lower stomach as Rhea continued her assault. 

Leah’s moans got higher again as she felt Rhea’s breast press against her pack and how hard her abs were crunching as she fucked her. 

Rhea noticed, snaking a hand up Leah’s stomach to her throat.

“Are you going to cum for me again, pretty girl? Get ready to hold your breath.” Rhea grunted as Leah took a deep breath. 

Rhea told her to hold her breath as she tightened her grip. 

“I'm going to countdown and on 10 you’re going to let out that pretty noise again and cum for me okay?” Rhea coached her as she began to count. 

“10…..9….8…” Rhea began as Leah’s thoughts were getting cloudy. All she could think about was more… more…more..

“7….6….5…..4” Rhea continued. 

Leah felt like that bubble building inside her was about to explode as Rhea started rubbing Leah’s clit with her free hand.

“3….2….Cum for me princess.” Rhea encouraged her as Leah felt everything in her body tighten as she came harder than she ever thought was possible. 

Rhea let go of her neck, Leah gasping for air as Rhea slowly pulled out and laid Leah down on her back. 

“You were amazing….Leah.” Rhea said softly kissing Leah on the forehead. She explained she was just running to get Leah some water and a towel. 

During the short time she was gone Leah started being able to form full thoughts again like “Oh my god I just had the best sex of my life with someone I do not even know more than two things about.” And Rhea could tell. When she returned and gave Leah the glass of water,  she could tell the woman was embarrassed – sitting with her knees to her chest. 

“Hey hey don't start doing that over-thinking thing.” Rhea interrupted her thoughts. 

“I'm not- well I…I normally just don’t sleep with people when I haven't even gone out with them. I am not even sure what your favorite color is what you do for work or how you spend your free time.”  Leah started after taking a sip. 

“Well my favorite color is purple, I am a wrestler, and typically I prefer my alone time but there is someone I ran into tonight I am hoping I get to spend more time with.” Rhea smiled. 

“Wait a wrestler?” Leah questioned before her phone started ringing. 

After dealing with the phone call and explaining it was the tow truck Rhea looked a bit disappointed but she helped Leah get dressed and helped her get her shoes on.

As Leah got ready to exit the apartment she looked back at Rhea as she waved a half-hearted goodbye before Leah said. 

“So is this the part where you ask me for your number or is that out of my control? “

Hi guys! I hope you liked this one it took me...so long. But I hope everyone had a good day and I can be a very steamy wind down to your day. :)

[silly-salty-utdr-rants]

papyrus backstory rant repost from main

you know what isnt acknowledged enough?

we know more about sans and gaster's backstories than papyrus'.

what we know about gasters backstory:

he was the royal scientist, he likely had a lot of hubris, he built the core, he fell into the core, pieces of his existence were scattered across time and space, he had a following of people that were seemingly also caught in the blast and was/is somehow connected to papyrus, sans, the player, chara and deltarune. certainly not the most detailed but a damn good basic outline

what we know about sans' backstory:

he at some point was a scientist, there is a mysterious group of people he will supposedly never see again, he is likely the older of the 2 brothers, he might have seen a human before frisk, he at some point lost hope of ever returning to an unspecified location and at some point gained the title of judge. still relatively vague and some clues are fairly out of the way but still, a good idea of who he was before frisk fell and flowey fucked around

what we know about papyrus' backstory:

he came from somewhere unknown with green grass, he doesnt like hotland for unknown reasons, he made the battle body a few weeks before frisk fell, flowey took a liking to him for unknown reasons, undyne likely only recently started training him but when she did it was because he waited outside her house all night, he was apparently feeling down for a while before frisk fell and.. what else?

this vague ass tiny idea of what he maybe did like a month before we meet him hardly serves as a backstory. and funny enough this is all i can garner from oh idk THE CHARACTER WITH THE MOST LINES OF DIALOGUE IN THE WHOLE GAME SECOND ONLY TO THE NARRATOR! this is why i lovingly dub paps the king of deflection, as another example lets look at the time someone in the papyrus qna asked what he looked like when he was younger and in response he played dumb to be purposefully stingey about his past and try to show a picture of himself from the day before through a textbox. and its not like he doesnt know what hes doing, hes stubborn not stupid, thats why he vaguely hints at truelab during a phonecall despite moments before pretending he doesnt know what a lab IS, thats why he plays dumb around sans, thats why he seemingly lies to frisk about his knowledge of hotland, thats why he knows how to use reverse psychology well enough to manipulate UNDYNE of all people, and thats why he brushes off sans' time shenanigans as yet another prank across time and space, because he is the king of deflection and we dont know shit about his backstory and neither does anyone ingame, so if he does end up being the knight, he's hidden bigger bombshell secrets before, so why stop now?

[galedekarios]

also re: the last gale art i reblogged

when i have the spoons to do so, i'd also very much like to talk about gale and depression and him being high functioning. it's an extremely heavy topic, but i think it's one of those things - if not the thing - that resonated the most with me on a personal level while experiencing his story for the first time, and it still does now almost a year later.

his isolation, his deep loneliness, gale using his magic to create an escape for his mind when he felt there was none for his body and withdrawing from the circumstances surrounding him as much as he was still able to, while still feeling mystra's disappointment echoing through the weave the moment he tapped into it - which is something that we know from his origin playthrough hurts him more than anything else (in that case it's related to elminster, but i think we can draw the conclusion here as well).

gale's social circle slowly withering away, one by one, until it's not a circle anymore, but a pinhead. enough to only include tara now. and even with tara, we know he's expecting to become too much of a burden, too much of a hassle ("i feared she had abandoned me." he says in act 3, after his long time away). he's waiting for the other shoe to drop even with his own familiar. i'm sure he wished to have her by his side even when he rationally knew that she had to leave to find a cure - or to at least find means to stave off his condition. he fekt he couldn't burden the only immediate family he still has left: morena. afraid of shaming her, afraid of burdening her, afraid of putting her in danger.

despite all that, he manages to leave waterdeep, to seek a cure for himself, or at the least not present a danger to thousands of people around him, once he recognised he was no longer able to treat his condition.

and when we meet him there is almost no immediate trace of all that, he masks it with smiles and politeness and humour. he's friendly. affable. unflappable. he cooks, he fights, he reads, he's well kept, despite tara's nagging about eating regularly in gale's origin playthrough. you'd never know. you only get a sense of melancholy sometimes (his first camp scene, staring into the fire, unsure of what the tadpole means for him and, more importantly, the orb), when it's all too much and he hasn't calmed himself yet, hasn't quieted his mind fully ("i need to retrace my steps to a glade of calm and think").

what a difference a day makes.

(still, he's opening himself up a bit again, re-learning to live again, travelling with people he may have not met otherwise, some of whom have become his friends. it feels good to chat, it feels good to tell stories, to share knowledge and meals, and to not be alone.)

and even when it all comes crashing down around him in act 2, he receives mystra's orders with quiet acceptance and a smile. he thanks elminster. he's glad it was him. he deflects your concern and doesn't engage with the deeper meaning of what it means to do as he was asked. oh you know him, don't you. he's an optimist. it's all not so bad. at least his death will have meaning. at least he'll have forgiveness.

it's only much later that he lets himself acknowledge how scared truly is. terrified, he says. and even then, he marches on.

anyhow, excuse my disjointed rambling, i just have a lot of thoughts about it all.

[lena-in-a-red-dress]

Blue and Fire Engine Red, Pt 7

The day of Hector’s game day party comes before Kara knows it. Lena drives them both in the dusty pick up, blasting N*SYNC with the windows down. Kara is more than happy to sing along– Lena’s unabashed enjoyment revives Kara’s memories of her teenage years, and the afternoons she’d spent with Kenny with N*SYNC playing on the radio. These days, Kara can acknowledge that they may not be objectively good, but they’re fun.

At Hector’s they and Kara’s seven layer dip are received with a warm, enthusiastic welcome. Kara’s handshake is ignored by Jess and Cecilia both, who greet her with the same hugs they offer Lena. 

“Congratulations on the college admission!” Kara lauds Jess, her smile genuine.

“Yeah,” Lena chimes in, bumping Jess with her shoulder. “You should have told us at the bar, you fink.”

Jess remains utterly unapologetic. “I could see you had more important matters on your mind,” she quips, giving Kara a pointed look and earning a round of laughter.

After that, Kara is swept up in a flurry of introductions, not just of Hector’s friends, but Lena’s coworkers as well.

“Hi Nia,” she greets readily at the sight of the younger woman, who grins at her.

“Fancy seeing you here, Sergeant,” Nia chirps as blithe as Jess. “Enjoying your time so far?”

Kara blinks in confusion. “We just got here…?” She shoots a look at Lena, who rolls her eyes. 

“She means with me,” Lena tells her. Kara’s jaw gapes a little, shocked enough that words don’t immediately pop out. Lena doesn’t give her long anyway. “Wanna beer?”

“Uh… sure?”

Lena nods. “I got it.” She gives Nia a sharp look. “Be nice.”

With that, Lena saunters off, leaving Kara to the wolves. Kara turns back to Nia, whose grin remains in place. “Hi,” Kara tries again.

“Sergeant Danvers!”

A new voice booms behind her, making Kara jump. She turns to find Brainy studiously regarding her.

“You are precisely on time,” he clips.

Kara nods solemnly. “Entirely Lena’s fault.”

Nia groans. “Querl, what are you talking about? They just showed up!” She waves a hand between them. “We were on time.”

“Miss Nal, surely you are aware of the social moray that dictates the perfect time to arrive at a gathering is no less than fifteen minutes past the proscribed start time. By such expectations, the Lieutenant and the Sergeant arrived right on time.”

“And we were…?” 

“Early, of course.”

Nia throws up her hands. “You were the one who insisted we show up at two!”

“But of course!” Brainy responds, clasping his hands behind his back. “As another custom states: to be early is to be on time.”

With a groan, Nia turns back to Kara. “You see what I have to work with?” In the end, she thrusts out her hand. “Nia Nal. Nice to properly meet you.”

Kara takes her hand with a grin. “Kara Danvers. Likewise.”

At that moment, Lena reappears. She hands over a bottle of Samuel Adams, but Kara notices that she’s claimed a can of rootbeer for herself. Her brow furrows at the sight of it. She sees that Nia also holds a soda, along with a few other firefighters dotted throughout the room. 

“On call?” she surmises. 

Lena nods, cracking open the can and sipping the fizz that bubbles over. The way she looks sheepishly at Kara over the edge of the can is entirely ungraceful, but Kara thinks she might be in love with this woman. 

“Smooth,” is all she says, earning a wink in return.

Lena tilts her head towards the living room. “Game’s on, if you’re interested.” 

Kara smirks. “What game?”

“Exactly!” Nia exclaims. “I’m just here for the food. And the company,” she amends quickly. “Gonzales is great. I like him.”

Lena shrugs. “You’re not the only one,” she says, even as a round of raucous laughter fills the house. A large group has gathered around Hector, clearly enjoying whatever story he’s telling. 

“How long have you known him?” Nia asks casually. Kara expects Lena to deflect, but instead she gamely takes a swig of her root beer. 

“Served two tours.”

Nia nods. “Cool, cool.”

As if it’s not more information about Lena’s service than she’s ever told Kara. But then again, she hasn’t exactly asked. She’d resolved to let Lena drive the pace of that conversation, but… maybe she could turn the key in the ignition.

Conversation continues, moving on to other subjects. Kara listens contentedly, and is all too happy to move to the couch when Hector eventually waves them over. He and Lena exchange their special handshake, but Kara keeps hers simple.

“Hi,” she says. “Thanks for the invite.”

“Yeah, my pleasure! I’m glad you all could make it–”

All of a sudden, something in Lena’s pocket starts to buzz, loud and insistent. She’s not the only one who reaches for their phone though– everyone Kara recognizes from Station 13 fishes out their device to glance at their screens.

A call out.

“I guess we’re leaving,” Kara says wryly.

Hector gapes dejectedly. “Man, you just got here!”

“Why don’t you stay?” Lena suggests to Kara as she rises. “I can ride to the station with Nia and Brainy. You can take my truck.”

Kara hesitates. “Really?”

Lena nods, leaning in to give Kara a kiss. “Here,” she says, pressing her keys into Kara’s hand. “Why don’t you go back to mine? I’ll meet you there when we’re done.”

A pleased thrum buzzes through Kara. She’s never been given a key to a partner’s home, even temporarily. Yet here Lena is, for all her secrets, inviting Kara to wait unaccompanied in her apartment. 

“There’s beer in the fridge,” Lena offers teasingly, sweetening the deal.

Kara grins, accepting the keys with another kiss. “Yeah. Go save the day.”

“Yes, ma’am!” Nia calls. “Come on, LT! Got a warehouse fire with your name on it!” 

LEna mutters something unintelligible under her breath, making Kara laugh. Once the door closes behind the departing crew, very few people remain, and none who Kara knows beyond brief introductions. So she remains where she is, studying her beer can as she considers how long to remain out of politeness. But then she senses eyes upon her, and she glances up to find Hector in his wheelchair across the coffee table, studying her with a closely guarded expression.

Kara doesn’t look away. She knows she’s being measured, by someone who respects and adores Lena. Though Lena has yet to show she values Hector in quite the same way, Kara knows his opinion of her will matter. In the end, Hector tilts his head towards the back door.

“Care to get some air, Sergeant?”

Nodding, Kara accepts the invitation readily, as much to make a good impression as to escape a room full of people she doesn’t know. She slides open the door for the both of them, allowing Hector to roll through first before stepping out after him. Outside, it’s pleasant but almost uncomfortably bright in the afternoon sun, so they have the low deck to themselves, the air still smelling faintly of grilled meat.

Kara takes a seat in one of the plastic lawn chairs, closing her eyes against the glaring sun.

“She trusts you.”

Hector’s statement comes with no judgement. When Kara opens her eyes, squinting at her host, his gaze is still taking stock of her. “Yeah?” she asks.

Hector nods.

“It’s kinda hard to tell,” Kara admits. “I mean, it seems she’s having a good time, but I don’t quite have a full read on her yet. But,” she allows, “it’s still early.”

“The only real thing you gotta know about the Sarge is that once she makes a connection, she’s with you to the end. She may not share herself with people, but she cares about them. Too much, sometimes.”

He rubs his palms against his thighs. Kara’s eyes follow the motion, and Hector notices her attention as though expecting it. “Complete SCI of the L1 vertebrae,” he explains. His voice deepens, devoid of his usual enthusiasm. “We were on a convoy when our vehicle hit an IED. Whole thing overturned. Sarge and I are the only ones who made it out.”

Jesus. Kara doesn’t dare say anything, knowing any words she could offer would be hollow in the face of such an experience.

“We were all trapped under the cargo bed, and the cab had caught fire. It was all starting to burn around us. And the Sarge… she wasn’t pinned. She wasn’t pinned. She could have gotten out. She should have. But she didn’t. She had one hand in my guts and held Reggie’s hand with the other.

“I’m here, she kept saying. I’m here.”

Hector looks down at his lap, scowling inwardly. 

“On the shows and everything, the doctors always promise that it’s all going to be okay. That they’ll save their patient, no matter what. But Sarge didn’t do that. I’m here. That’s all she said. And she was. When Reggie stopped breathing, she was there. She was there when they fished me out. They got me out of there fast, but Sarge helped haul out the others. She– she wanted more than strangers there. We were hers. And she was there when I got out of surgery. She’s the one who told me about the rest.”

An image flashes across Kara’s mind. The previous weekend, she’d seen a dark smudge on Lena’s ribs– later that night, as Lena slept, Kara had seen that the smudge was a tattoo. A series of tallies, stacked in groups of tens. She’d counted thirteen tallies, and in this moment, Kara knows exactly what Lena’s been tracking. 

Unaware of Kara’s revelation, Hector continues with a shake of his head. 

“And she’s still taking care of us.” When he notices Kara’s confusion, he continues. “My folks can’t afford to put Jess through school, and my GI benefits don’t apply to siblings. But wouldn’t you know it, Jess got a full ride from a private donor.” He sighs. “I don’t know how she did it, but she did.”

Kara considers that, remembering the way Lena had seemed genuinely surprised by Hector’s good news. She can’t say even now whether she’d be able to spot the act, but the deception doesn’t feel malicious. She doesn’t know if Lena has a malicious bone in her body.

Then again, she could be blinded by the new relationship glow. What does she truly know about Lena anyway?

“Has she ever talked about her family?” Kara asks. Hector glances at her, prompting her to clarify. “I’m not looking for details. I just… I want to know if it’s something she might share, with the right person.”

At that, Hector softens. “None of us ever heard her talk about her family, her home, or anything from her past. Not even which coast she’s from. I know she got razzed for it at first, but in the end… it didn’t matter. It wasn’t her past that held me together, and it wasn’t the last thing Reggie saw. It was just the Sarge, and who she was in that moment. Who she still is.”

At that, Kara nods. That much, Kara’s already seen for herself. Both at the scene where they first met, where she’d hauled a young mother from an inferno, and the previous weekend with Lydia at the farmer’s market. She’d seen the way Lena’s reflex was to help, as innate as the ability to breathe. Not everyone has that– most people need to think, to make the conscious decision to run towards danger. 

Not Lena.

“I’m not telling you any of this so you’ll treat her with kid gloves or anything,” Hector says. “Sarge can take care of herself. But like I said– she trusts you. I just want you to know just how special that is.” 

He smiles thinly. 

“She’ll treat you good, if you let her.”

—

Kara opts to pick up a crate of seltzer on her way to Lena’s after saying goodbye to Hector and his family. Despite the offer of free beer, she wants a clear head tonight. Thoughts swirl in her head as she lets herself into the spartan apartment, and settles on the couch to anxiously wait. She can keep her new knowledge to herself, and a strong part of herself wants to. It feels illicit, to know something about Lena that she didn’t share herself. And what Lena doesn’t know wouldn’t hurt her, right?

But when the door opens a crack, a few hours later, Lena’s voice makes the decision for her.

“Kara?”

Kara’s brow furrows. Lena had been the one to invite her to wait, but now she sounds like she’s wound tight as a spring, on the verge of fight or flight. As though she doesn’t know what to expect.

Twisting on the couch to face the door, Kara smiles. “Present and accounted for!”

The playful response does the trick. The crack widens fully, and Lena pushes in with a wide grin and two pizza boxes stacked in her right hand. Kara also spots a two liter bottle of Pepsi under one arm. She’s most relieved for Lena’s smile, though, which assures her that the callout hadn’t suffered any casualties.

“Did Gonzales take good care of you?” Lena asks, kicking the door shut. She detours to the kitchen, bustling to retrieve plates and cups to dish up.

Kara smirks, rising to assist. “I don’t think Cecilia or Jess would allow anything less.”

A bark of laughter answers her. “Ain’t that the truth.”

Lena flips up the lids of the pizza boxes, revealing a pepperoni and a cheese. She hands Kara a plate, letting her snag whatever slices she wants. Kara does, and fidgets with the edge of a partial pepperoni as she watches Lena slide two of each on her plate before lifting a messy slice to her mouth. An ooze of cheese slides precariously, and Lena tilts her head back to receive it.

When she catches KAra staring, the grin she gives is wide and beaming. “It’s on my chin, isn’t it?”

Well, it is, but it’s not why Kara is staring. She gathers her courage as she watches Lena fetch a paper towel to smear the grease off her chin.

“Hector told me some things, about the convoy.”

Kara’s voice is low, careful. Lena’s movements stutter to a stop, her entire body stiffening as the mood instantly freezes. 

“He had no right to tell you anything about that,” Lena says, her voice rigid.

“It’s his story too, Lena,” Kara returns gently. She allows her shredded piece of pepperoni fall to the plate. “And he didn’t give me many details. Just that you were there, and that you did what you could. That you saved his life.”

She does her best to hold Lena’s gaze, but Lena doesn’t let her. Her pizza lies forgotten on her plate, all the mirth from gooey cheese having evaporated into the ether. Kara studies the tight line of Lena’s lips, all but scowling as she wipes her fingers roughly with a paper towel. It’s the first time she’s seen Lena with anything less than a smile.

Part of her cherishes it, because it’s a new side of Lena she hasn’t experienced yet, but a small seed of dread takes root in her stomach, that this might be the last she sees of Lena at all.

“Lena…”

“Don’t.” Lena finally glares at her. “Don’t say anything.”

But Kara isn’t ready to let it go, despite the precipice she senses beneath her feet. 

“I’ve noticed your tattoo,” Kara says softly. Lena scoffs.

“Really? Wow. You’re… Wow.”

Lena ignores the soda she’d brought home, and instead swings to yank a beer out of the fridge. She passes Kara without a glance, slumping onto the couch as she stares at the black screen of her television.

“I’m not asking for you to share anything you don’t want to,” Kara clarifies, slowly trailing Lena into the living room. “I won’t ask if you don’t want me to, but I want to be here for you, whenever, or if ever, you want to talk about it.”

Lena continues to scowl at her drink, sitting propped on one knee. Kara doesn’t want to push, but she needs Lena to understand that she isn’t scared. She kneels in front of Lena, whose gaze reluctantly lifts to meet hers. She can feel the tension around Lena like a bubble, ready to rebuff any attempt to prod further.

“I am so proud of you,” Kara says, quiet but firm. “Despite everything, you haven’t given up. Every day, you still go out there and do what you can to help people.”

Kara takes a steadying breath before finishing.

“That means more than however you might feel you’ve failed.” 

Lena’s gaze slides away, scowl firmly in place, and Kara knows that’s the best she’s going to get. She gives Lena’s knee a squeeze. 

“I just needed you to know that.” 

With that, Kara stands and moves to clear out the sink. It gives her something to do as much as it gives Lena time to decompress. She hears the click of the television turning on, and the hum of voices coming through the low volume, but she suspects Lena isn’t truly watching.

When Kara joins her on the couch to finish whatever program is playing on the tv, she can feel that the reprieve hasn’t been enough. She reaches to offer Lena’s hand a squeeze, but Lena pulls away from her touch, clearing her throat.

“I’m pretty tired,” she says brusquely, her movements sharp and staccatoed. She moves towards the bedroom but pointedly makes no mention of Kara leaving. Kara clings to it, reminding herself again and again that this isn’t about her. 

She knows what it’s like, to feel unworthy of any tenderness or affection. Kara has the benefit of therapy and hard work to get her past those feelings– she doesn’t know if Lena has that. Either way, Kara knows the role she wants to play for Lena.

She wants to be the one who stays. 

Lingering on the couch, she lets the tv play as she scrolls idly through her phone, one ear pricked towards the bedroom. She doesn’t hear so much as a peep. Once the sun goes down, and the world beyond fades to dusky hues, Kara clicks the tv off and heads to the bedroom.

The light is off, leaving the room in shadows, but she sees enough to notice that Lena has climbed onto the mattress fully clothed. It lets Kara feel a little less awkward when she joins Lena there, inching as close as she dares until she can reach an arm over Lena’s waist. Lena’s still too tense to be asleep, but she doesn’t give any reaction to Kara’s arrival.

“Is it okay that I’m here?”

Her question murmurs against Lena’s shoulder blades, low and tender in the quiet room. Too tender, Kara worries, when Lena doesn’t immediately answer. But then, finally, Lena exhales, and curls one hand around Kara’s.

“Yeah.”

[allwormdiet]

Buzz 7.8

Nazi capes fuck off, like fucking for real

Honestly even if Kaiser deigned to tell his people that the Undersiders weren't responsible, somehow I doubt any Empire member would be inclined to treat them with much respect.

Yeah, see, this isn't about the leaks for Hookwolf. This is about the fucking beef over the dog fights.

Not a genius move from the driver, honestly. If you really want to put bullets in the villains that have good defensive capabilities, the last thing you want to do is give up the element of surprise. Stormtiger may not have been able to deflect those shots if he didn't have enough time to react.

Also, does Cricket wield kama? Like, the fucking Japanese farming tool? Are you allowed to join the Empire if you're a blatant weeaboo?

This is a really bad matchup honestly, it's tense to see how close they get to death with these fuckers

Disturbingly evocative and sadistic, but what else is to be expected from fucking Nazis, right

Clever guy

Fuck yeah, environmental takedown

Grue is fucking hardcore. Two shots to Stormtiger's legs and not even bothering to acknowledge Cricket's hostage. Dude does not fuck around when it comes to Empire, the only restraint here is that he's not killing them outright but honestly I wouldn't feel bad if he did. Just dump their bodies into the water, bing bang boom.

Well, okay, I guess Hookwolf would still be a problem, wouldn't he

This Cricket gal is bullshit honestly

So, yeah, now that we've gotten all three of the Empire capes to show their powers, I'll go ahead and say that this fight was stacked against Skitter and Grue from the jump. Hookwolf can't be fought hand-to-hand without being shredded to pieces and insects can't do much about metal flesh. Stormtiger can get bugs off himself no problem and can blast away Grue's darkness. Cricket, meanwhile, has some kinda sonic blast that lets her navigate Grue's darkness and also incapacitate Skitter's bugs.

The fact that they get out of this fight alive is a testament to remarkable intelligence and grit on their part.

This is a brutal slugfest honestly, although the fucking Nazi deserves every second of pain she's getting from it.

It's a little funny that they're having this conversation in front of Cricket. Like "oh yeah it looks bad but she's too busy being a sadist to do any real damage," "oh that sucks ass of her but I'm glad you're not too hurt" and she's laying there with a chunk of thigh missing. She should be embarrassed enough to leave town forever.

Yeah Cricket's busted, but good news is she's taken care of

It's a little funny that they're both stuck stitching each other back up after Brian cut off any romantic options. Like I've seen a lot of works where patching up someone's wounds and putting them back together would have a kind of bloodsoaked intimacy to it, but not here lmao

Also yeah you'd better appreciate Tattletale

These little punks. Love em to bits.

Okay so real quick, noticing Taylor's description of how Regent is talking, and I wonder how grounded Alec is as a baseline. Like I have to imagine that the Heartbreaker Experience doesn't do a whole lot of wonders for learning how to connect to the world around you. Is it an affectation like I've been speculating, or is that just the best he's got for engaging with reality?

I wish going straight for Purity meant killing her, but even without reading the rest of this arc I know the Undersiders don't have that kind of firepower. I can dream, though.

Teehee, parallels

Current Thoughts

I wish Grue managed to kill all three of the Empire capes but I get why he couldn't. I'll just have to hope they all die later.

Awesome that they managed to get the win over those bastards in the first place though, I don't think this is my favorite fight in terms of the beat-by-beat action but in terms of how they have to overcome the disadvantage of enemy powers it feels the best.

[theflyindutchwoman]

No sense in arguing about it. But we're so good at arguing. I know. But I'm hoping that we're good at certain other things, as well. Oh? Want to find out right now? Yeah.

| ANATOMY OF A SCENE - CHENFORD EDITION 5.12 - Death Notice

Sometimes I wonder whether this scene is real or not… I just love it so much. It's serious, it's tender, it's playful… it's sizzling. It has some of the same intimate vibes as their very first kiss, with all the dim lights and candles everywhere, while still having its own flavor. Its own identity. Like the fact that they're in the kitchen this time, with Lucy preparing dinner for them. And the domestic feels in this… Cooking is one of her love languages, her way of showing how much she cares. There was already a hint of that when she sent food to Tim during his recovery after the events at the quarantine house. And we saw her cooking for Tamara, for Angela… or for her parents to celebrate her graduation (and I'm still salty about that one). This is something that she clearly has in common with Tim, judging by the way he looks so happy while making pancakes for her or how they apparently enjoy watching cooking shows together. It's their thing and it's so nice that they finally have someone with whom they can share this… Someone who can fully appreciate it.

All this romantic ambiance doesn't prevent Lucy from still talking about the job though, and more specifically her hypothetical transfer. She wants to get that out of the way before taking that next step and she's right. She is prodding a bit, asking Tim for his input since he has yet to explicitly endorse her plan. And she has to sense that he has been deflecting a bit, delaying the decision. For good reason, of course. The way he looks so at peace with his choice when he admits that he has already asked for his transfer so she wouldn't have to leave versus how upset and distressed she is by this… The softness in his voice when he says 'that doesn't matter' when she worries about him not liking his new job… There's this thing Eric does with his voice here that is amazing. I don't know if he was sick when they filmed that scene, his voice sounds slightly different somehow, huskier… And it fits the mood so well.

But that aside, it's not like her worries are entirely baseless either. Lucy understands exactly the sacrifice he's making because she knows how much he loves patrol and the action. And this is the kind of decision that could eventually lead to resentment. At the same time, this is Tim : he knows what he is doing. It's not the first time he had to consider doing a similar thing. Only, now, he has found someone who is worth the effort. Who is worth more than his job. So it's a trade off he is willing to make without hesitation. He raises another good point : a transfer for her would most likely mean that she would have to prove herself again. It might not be a demotion per se, but she would have to pay her dues again. Besides, he has to know that this is merely temporary : he just needs to wait for a better position to open up. Whereas changing stations would be a more permanent option and would prevent them from working or spending time together at work. There's such a romantic quality in the fact that he wants to spend as much time as possible with her, even if it's just for a few minutes here and there… Honestly, the way these two always light up when they see the other at the station is so incredibly soft.

'No sense in arguing about it' - 'But we're so good at arguing' This exchange is simply perfect… It's inherently them. What started as real arguments slowly evolved into this form of flirting for them. It lost its edge and blossomed into this playfulness and teasing they have mastered a long time ago… It was their way of showing how much they cared. So it's nice to see them acknowledge it and recognise that they enjoy doing it. Even more so considering how much Lucy used to avoid arguing with Chris, because deep down, it wasn't worth it. This really underlines the difference. And her tone, her smile when she admits enjoying arguing with him… That kiss… Tim standing up… Her hand lingering… And his flirting… He's come so far from 'naked times', he's getting smoother. The little tilt of her head, teasing him… And his grin! With all the laughing lines so visible… Their little swaying… His little 'yeah', barely audible, just for them… Her big smile… How she doesn't waste any more time and takes off his shirt, one with snap buttons because he came prepared… The man understood the assignment! The way she slightly leans away from him so she can check him out (shamelessly) while he's trying to lean forward, not wanting to stop that kiss or to be so far from her… Their forehead touching… The way he gets rid of his shirt… Her freaking smile… Their hands! The way he cradles her head… Her hands roaming all over his body… Her little giggles… His hand behind her head when they hit the wall, to ensure she doesn't hurt herself… The detail of her hair against the closed door… Speaking of. 'I opened the door for you'… The imagery of opened doors since their feelings have been out, has been so strong… Well, this time, Tim gets to close it. It's really just a detail, but so symbolic.

This is the beginning of a new era for them… And what makes me so happy is how Lucy and Tim are staying true to themselves. It's really about adding another element to their relationship, not changing it.

[gingergofastboatsmojito]

His avoidance

I read this quote a few days ago and it reminded me of these two:

Source: Marriage.com YES! MARRIAGE DOT COM LOLOLOL!

So since I already went over her avoidant behavior 🔗 that might have as well cost us SYDCARMY this season:

Now I am gonna be fair because Carmy is avoidant too but differently. They are like "50 shades of I DON'T WANNA DEAL WITH MY FEELINGS, I RATHER COOK".

And in the bonus track, I will focus on the only great part of being a master avoidant.

So, Carmy... His avoidant behavior is a different shade of avoidance because while also being a defense mechanism, it is rooted in his C-PTSD, which he described in the AA meeting S1 monologue pretty well. He grew up in a totally different environment than Syd 🔗 but he also felt lonely and that scared him emotionally.

Avoidance resulted from that emotional scaring process that affects him even to this day. C-PTSD and PTSD are not the same, so it's important not to misdiagnose the two. Also, C-PTSD can cause autobiographical memory gaps but it only affects functional memory.

That being said, Carmy is extremely self-aware because he is an introvert. My theory also includes his AUADHD type, but I will not dive into that neurodivergency in this post, I will focus on his introverted type and avoidant behavior. That self-awareness is what differentiates him the most from Sydney who is an ambivert (extra-introvert). She defaults to denial, and he defaults to sublimation.

I went over his sublimation several times:

Here 🔗

Here 🔗

And here 🔗

Yeah... I gave it some thought ok?

Carmy doesn't avoid feeling, he avoids acknowledging, but he's not in full-on denial, he just dances around an idea, a concept he's fully aware of, and then decides to disregard it thinking that by doing so it will disappear. It doesn't and then it becomes ART.

It becomes ANGER.

It becomes INSOMNIA.

Just like in Syd's case, it becomes PANIC/ANXIETY.

It becomes ADDICTION.

It becomes silence that feels like something crashing his chest and not letting him say the words he wants to say OR cry. It becomes PARALISYS.

And he runs away from it by cooking or sketching, smoking, etc. Instead of facing it even if it hurts, elaborating on it and letting it out verbally, crying his heart out if necessary, and eventually healing.

I am positive that ended in 03x10 when he was strong enough to confront his nemesis and then have a good cry, finally!!! I was sooo happy for him, it broke my heart, but I was happy. He's finally on the mend.

Carmy will continue avoiding feelings he doesn't feel ready to cope with, deflecting and diverting to other stuff to fool himself, sure!

But this will not traumatize him anymore.

He will go about it differently now that he can let out certain things that were stuck in him for far too long. This will also enable other "un-stuck" processes, such as finally leaving C behind after having an adult conversation / giving that relationship the closure it deserves, which he has been avoiding since last season.

But for that, he will have to quit avoiding the reason why he stalled it in the first place, which I explained → here 🔗

I am sure S4 will be all about that because that's exactly where he ended last season, so it's the logical progression:

I bet everything on his success.

Avoidants are masters of the unspoken communication

Bonus track: Both Carmy and Syd are masters of unspoken communication, that's also why they end up overdoing it, they end up abusing that skill they have and it turns counterproductive. But it is a skill nonetheless. THOSE LOOKS, THOSE SILENCES, THAT UNSPOKEN LOVE, THEY CAN SAY IT ALL WITHOUT PRONOUNCING A SINGLE WORD OR BETWEEN THE LINES OF THE FEW WORDS THEY SAY. THEIR TRADE MARK. THEY MASTER SILENCES AND INFLECTIONS LIKE NO OTHERS. THEY CAN SAY IT ALL "DIFFERENTLY".

They got this. Let's give them more time. S4 is gonna be all about them learning to use their words "properly" after they stop avoiding the conversation they owe each other.

Remember to follow my tag #Gingerpovs 💋