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madamechrissy · 7 days ago

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Silent Serenades

♔ An arranged Marriage with Duke Gojo ♔

♔ Pairings: Satoru Gojo x Duchess Reader

♔ Content/Warnings: Light angst, cunnilingus, fingering, blow jobs, cum swallowing, spitting/spit kink, rough sex, dirty talk, name calling, low key breed kink, toxic attraction, lots of emotions, lots of sex. OOC.

♔ Word count: this chap: 12k

♔ Summary: you are the diamond of the season, he is the charming Duke, it’s the marriage of the decade. Prominent families joining, and it so happens that Duke Gojo is gorgeous. But, he doesn't want you, and now you're trapped in a loveless arranged marriage. Royal AU, dark bridgerton vibes, Cruel Gojo x reader. OOC Set in 1800s England. Slow burn, enemies to lovers. Gojo is awful at first, HEAVY angst Basically- Gojo is a royal dick and doesn't wanna marry you - Don't read this if you want a nice Gojo lol.

Comments and Reblogs appreciated <3

Part Nine - Masterlist - Playlist

Part Ten

“Riding bareback, you are slutty.” Satoru teases as you ride the white horse next to him, you both chose to ride horses today rather than the carriage. You stick your tongue out, earning his laugh.

“Oh, you’re just mad I’m better at riding than you.”

“You certainly look sexy riding it. Wonder how you’d ride me?” You gasp now, and he chuckles, clicking his boots gently and nudging his black horse on, you nudge yours as well, by rubbing her neck, whispering to her.

“Let’s kick his ass, darling Snow.” She neighs softly, as you squeeze your thighs around her, and giggle as she sets off, passing Satoru in moments.

“Hey now! Brats.” Your hair is flying in a wave behind you, the wind blowing through your face, and in these moments it’s difficult to remember Satoru was terrible before, that you’re not likely going to be together for long.

How easy it is to forget.

That morning he’d had coffee ready for you, and surprised you with a brand new saddle for your pretty horse. You had melted at that gesture, sure he was terrible before, sure you remembered it, but you appreciated what he was doing now. Satoru had helped you set it all up, and before that you all had brought baskets together for the village, medicines and herbs to help.

He was heavily involved in it all, he was not skimping on his duties, and now as you both trot along, and he looks at you so intensely, his blue eyes shining in the sunlight, you’re enamored against your own judgment. You’ve never felt this, could it be from last night? Could it be physical? Or was it…

More.

He had not touched you today aside from helping you up your horse, yet even that moment had you a flustered mess, as if you were courting as a young girl, those little moments with Suguru long ago, and even with Satoru originally. You remember he was a little distant but you felt giddy as he would promenade with you, getting so thrilled from his flowers he’d bring.

You frequently wonder even more now how things could have been if he had not chosen this path, this heartbreaking path that has irrevocably changed you, you are not and never will be the same. Satoru had changed everything you once knew, those lofty dreams you had were crushed when you had your wedding night, only for you to feel so much last night it shattered anything.

You think upon sweet Nanami, how you’ve left him heartbroken and had not truly meant to, you would have been content with Nanami, you just felt it was wrong to lead him to believe your feelings were at that level. His face now in your head breaks your heart, you wish you had not hurt him so.

Physically just kissing Satoru eclipsed anything you’d done with Nanami at all, even when those kisses were brutal and toxic, when he’d smacked and choked you, it did things to you none of Nanami’s careful, skilled touch could. That made you feel even worse, Nanami had not trusted you for good reason, but how could you tell your… husband… no when your entire being craved it?

Nanami was better off without you.

He’d have been better off without you ever talking to him, ever sharing your pain with him, and he wanted to save you so badly from yourself, and you bitterly know you’re just a disappointment to him. It was as if you disappointed everyone at times, except…

“Deep in thought, Princess?” Satoru asks, making you sigh, looking over at him, your hands gently holding the reins under your silk gloves.

“Indeed.”

“Thinking of your baker?”

“I destroyed him, Satoru.” You whisper, and he frowns then, nudging his horse a little closer, to fall into step with you, a hand reaching to touch your thigh, burning you with his touch.

“Destroyed him?” He asks, softly, instead of getting angry you’re thinking of Nanami. It surprises you, so different from how Nanami reacted, it was as if Satoru knew that it hurt you and did not mind listening, like he just accepts that it did happen.

It oddly brings you more comfort knowing you can speak of such things, though you do not want to hurt Satoru either. Did not want to hurt anyone anymore.

“He begged me to stay, and I fully turned him down. He must hate me now, I would not blame him.”

He clears his throat, hands gripping just a little tighter now, heating you up from the touch. “Why did you turn him down?”

You look at him, your hand touching his, biting your lower lip as your horses trot slowly next to each other. “My feelings were no match for his, how could I let him believe they were? It would be wrong. But I know he loved me.”

“Did he really know you, though…”

“What, are you saying if he did, he wouldn’t?”

“No, bratty girl. I just wonder, does he know how mean you are? How ridiculously snarky?”

“Fuck off, Satoru.” You laugh though, and he smirks.

“He dodged a bullet with you- ow!” You smack the fuck out of him, and he feigns pain now, laughing softly. “No, let me be serious, of course he fell in love quickly, especially… making love to you, you’re so beautiful, you’re smart, those sounds you make? How you feel… yes, I believe anyone would.”

His words bring vivid memories of last night to your mind, of him inside of you, so deep, you couldn’t figure out where he ended and you began. Fuck.

“We should not speak of these things.” You say, looking away nervously, at the rolling green hill, the village coming into view.

“Why not?”

“Because we were unfaithful-”

“In a marriage we were forced into. And I regret it, surely, all of it, but I do not think you should judge yourself so harshly.”

You look at him carefully. “You’re being kind.”

“Is it so odd?”

“It’ll take getting used to. I suppose I just feel terrible for coming into his life, and for him loving me when I could not return it.”

“Do you know what love is, little Princess?” You look at him seriously then, shaking your head. “Then how do you know you did not?”

You brush your fingers down the back of his hand now. “He explained this feeling, where he could not bear to be without me, and I’m afraid I did not share that. That he had fallen so deeply, but for me it was a comfort, a joy, something pleasurable. Perhaps like your…”

“They’re not even that. They were just physical, their personalities honestly annoyed me. They’re simple I guess.”

“You chose that. Intimidated by smart girls?”

“Terrified of you.” You meet his smile, finally easing your hand off his, sighing. “Why do that? I love holding your hand.”

“We are too comfortable. Too happy. We should not be so.”

His expression hardens, he sits up more on top of his horse, back straightening. “So continue in the misery?”

“No! But… it hurts more, knowing this is how it could have always been. A beautiful relationship.” Your eyes meet, and he sways his head, but you carry on, leaving him to watch you. “Bet I’ll beat you!”

“Nah, I’ll win.” He rushes to you now, and fuck if you don’t enjoy him, laughing as he starts beating you in the race, and you feel an odd lightness you have never felt, even before him.

What is this feeling?

“They’re bootiful, Duchess!” Your sweet girl from yesterday cooes to you, her mother had returned your tiara even though you tried to let her keep it, so you have decided to make all the girls that have gathered crowns of twigs and flowers. Little crowns of white and purple flowers are sitting atop their heads, all but the last little girl you’re finishing up.

Satoru is dealing with business matters, while you have delivered the medicines and the herbs, agreeing to meet back up. He’s riding his horse and yours is right next to him in step, he’s holding the reins, and fuck if Satoru Gojo does not look sexy riding a horse. Especially in his dark blue riding gear and this top hat covering his snowy hair, that still peeks through.

You may or may not be eyeing his entire tall, lithe body when he hops down with ease, his toned legs starkly apparent in the light tan riding breeches he’s wearing, it’s clear he’s quite an equestrian. He smiles over at you, what a mess you must look like, knees in the field, your hair is loose around your shoulders, skirt covered in dirt, you certainly are not very ladylike right now.

“And what have we here, so many princesses!” He says then, as the little girls run up to him.

“Duchess made them!” They all shout nearly at once, and you laugh softly, feeling your bare hands so sore now, the sticks are snapping and smacking at you in places, but they turned out so good! And the kids smiling makes you so happy you cannot take it.

“She’s so skilled, look at this craftsmanship!” He says enthusiastically, with a wink shot your way. “Say, would you all like to pet her horse?”

“Yes please!” They all start petting Snow, Satoru’s horse wants nothing to do with them, arrogantly having his head in the air. You can’t stop the smile decorating your face, nor the warmth in your heart at the scene.

“Arrogant like his owner.” You tease as he comes closer, you’re down to the last tiara to be made finally.

“Are you talking shit, bratty girl?” You duck your head as he walks toward you, sighing now. “Aren’t you a vision?”

“I’m a mess!”

“No, you’re… a corny poet could put it correctly. I’m afraid beautiful is all I can come up with.” He leans down, studying you carefully. “In your element.”

You tilt your head, as he brushes your messy hair back gently. “Well thank you, but are you saying my element is dirt?”

“It certainly is.”

“Hey now… ugh, ow!” You look to your hands now, kneeling on the soft bed of grass, realizing you have another splinter from the twigs. Satoru looks at you, brows together, coming to kneel down in his fancy suit, surprising you when he takes your hand carefully.

“No more twigs, you’ll ruin these pretty hands.” You snort then, blowing a tuft of hair that’s fallen in front of your face.

“Can hands even be pretty?”

“Yours are. Despite the stubby fingers.”

“Hey!” He chuckles then, handing the little girl her tiara now, placing it on her head carefully with a bow. Your breath catches then, as you see this silly, goofy side of Duke Gojo, was this who he was before?

“Thank ye, yer Grace!” The girl says, running off now, and Satoru helps you up to stand, looking at your hand carefully.

“It’ll be fine until we get home, Duke. Ah!” He gently runs a fingertip along your palm.

“You have three splinters, tch. You’re not ‘fine’.”

“Oh don’t baby me, I’m a big girl.” You stick out your tongue, earning a glare from his pretty blue eyes.

“Yer Grace, please come inside, I have tweezers and antiseptic.” One of the ladies says now, looking at the Duke nervously. “It would be right cramped for a Duke and Duchess, I’m afraid…”

“Nonsense, we appreciate it.” Satoru says, his pouty pink lips turned up at the corners. You hate how your heart falters, at how sweet his smile is, his eyes crinkling at the corners just so, enrapturing you.

“Come on then, ye two, ah to have royalty in my humble home!” You follow Satoru inside the home then, a little cabin with a thatched roof, she sits you on the bed then, a little straw bed, you sit down and peek around, you notice how quaint and cute the home is.

“Oh it’s so lovely.” You say, and she blushes, shaking her head.

“Indeed not, yer Grace. Would you like me to assist?” She asks Satoru, and he shakes his head.

“No, I had enough scrapes as a boy with my friends to know how to remove splinters.” You’re surprised, you had pegged Duke Gojo for someone who really did not know how to do things like that, perhaps you have a lot you’re curious to know, before this month is up.

Why does the month ending hurt to think of?

“I’ll give ye both some privacy.” She walks out, leaving you both alone in the cozy little home.

Satoru carefully puts your hand in his lap now, gently wiping it with a washcloth that’s nice and warm. You study his face as he studies your hand carefully, his thin white brows drawn together, lips pursed just a bit, snowy lashes lowered so that you could not see the pretty blue of his eyes. He peeks at you for a moment, making you blush at getting caught staring.

“Am I so pretty to look at?” He asks with a raised brow, plucking a splinter out now, you hiss a bit.

“You are pretty and cruel, so merciless with your tweezing!” You say with a glare, earning another chuckle from him.

“Two more. Keep distracted, think of something nice. Like… hmm, cumming all over my mouth last night?”

You gasp. “Ah!” He yanks another, smirking now, and you scoff, but your body overheats, at how he’s gently gripping your wrist, sliding a thumb up along the thin veins of your inner wrist now. “Why would I think of that?”

“You tell me, you have goosebumps on your breasts, your hips are shifting, a blush decorating your cheeks. Are you thinking of it?” He whispers, leaning close, and your eyes dart to his lips, then back to his eyes.

“You would be the most slutty doctor.” He laughs then, genuinely, and it’s so bright you laugh as well.

“I probably would be, wouldn’t I?”

“You’d travel the world and sleep with every woman- oof!” He yanks the last splinter out, still laughing a bit, his broad shoulders shaking with it.

“You are so funny, I…” He blinks a bit then, clearing his throat. “I guess I did not know someone could make me laugh so much, aside from Suguru.”

“He is also quite funny, isn’t he?”

“You really kissed him, huh?” You flush again, sighing. “You do not have to explain it if you don’t want to.”

“Truly?” He nods, now leading you to the little sink, where he washes your hand carefully, just bits of blood from pulling them out.

“I deserve anything you’ve done and worse.” You hear it, his hatred of himself, and it breaks your heart into pieces.

“I will explain. It was that night when you had brought Catherine to dinner. I had a panic attack, after the um… tightening the corset comments.” You whisper, looking down now where he holds your hand, feeling emotions catch in your throat.

“Fuck, I’m so sorry. You looked perfect that night.” His voice is hoarse as he dries your hand carefully inside the little cabin, and when you look up you see he is sincere, see the hurt on his face.

“Yes I… it hurt me, it triggered things that I’ve tried to fight from my own mother, and my grandmother before her. To barely eat, to the point of feeling faint, to keep my corset so tight I can’t breathe, all to be a ‘delicate lady’.” Your memories are bitter in your throat.

“That is cruel. You’re already a petite girl. Even so, to push yourself that far… it’s not okay, especially if you wish for children.”

“I know. Well you did shove those scones in my face, so we are all good now.” He smiles sadly, shaking his head.

“So Suguru kissed you after that night?”

“He followed me out, I was a disaster, I do not think he meant it other than some sort of… comfort. It’s hard to explain. To make me feel desired, attractive, when I felt so very…” You blink then, sucking in a breath to prevent your tears. Satoru is gently rubbing ointment on your hands now, staring at your palm carefully.

“I made you feel…”

“Ugly. Hideous.”

He shuts his eyes, two lines between his brows forming. “It was never so. It was I who was being hideous.” He brings your hand to his lips now, kissing each spot gently, wrecking your resolve, enhancing every feeling as you both open up more to each other. “You should not forgive that.”

“I know. But you feel remorse-”

“I remember you dropping that spoon, the clatter it made along with your pretty face, fallen. I felt so horrible, I tried to apologize, but I was still a piece of shit, and it was so half assed.”

“It was. But it’s behind us.”

He laughs without humor. “You are being too forgiving. I honestly understand why he would kiss you, he liked you long before me, and he also wished to make you feel… wanted, that is what you wished for as well.”

You nod a bit. “Yes. He did not go further, he also brought the puppy to cheer me up.”

“Suguru would be good for you. Perhaps you’d have been happy if you were arranged to marry him.” Your lips part then, stepping just a little closer, you hear the children playing outside, here the animals in the distance, chickens clucking, the whirl of the stove, but you also hear your heart race in your ears as you look at him.

“Sure, we would have been, but…”

“What if you could marry him, what if I could try to make it happen?” You exhale, shutting your eyes now, before stepping even closer, so close you inhale his scent into your nostrils, intoxicating you. His hand still holds yours carefully.

“You would do that?” He nods carefully, gulping now, pressing another kiss to your palm.

“I know he would be a good match, he’s of good standing, he would adore you, give you babies. Be a good father, be kind. If anyone had to have you, I would prefer him. I’m sorry your baker… I just cannot see that being good enough financially. You are still of high standing you know, and the scandal will nearly ruin you as is, Suguru could mitigate it, make it some ‘love match’.”

“You’ve thought this through?” He nods then, and you sigh. “You are becoming pretty caring, Satoru.”

“Me caring? Psh.” You smile softly now.

“That is caring, and selfless.”

He rolls his eyes. “I’m still selfish, all I can think of is ways to make you want to stay, or ways to make up for the rest of my days if you’d let me. So do not think I’m going out without a fight.”

“I see that. Well, you have some points today, look at you, a whole medical professional.” He snorts, rolling his pretty eyes, and you take a breath, yanking him down by his tie, making him exhale against your lips. “Let me reward you, kind sir, for your care of me.”

“Fuck.” Is all he manages, his free hand yanking you by the waist, slamming his lips on yours, and you kiss him back eagerly, those violent moths in your tummy flitting into delicate butterflies. It’s a different kiss, it’s softer, sweeter, not a prelude to something sexual, it’s sweet and genuine. “How do you always taste so good?”

“I do not know, with my bitter coffee habit.” He laughs softly, cupping your face in his big hands. “It touches me that you look out for me, even if we will not be together. It means you… are trying. I see it.”

“Is it all too late?” He asks softly, and you take a breath to tell him no, it’s not too late, you may be a whole fucking fool but you feel so much with him, not just physical, but how do you open up fully, after everything?

“Satoru-” The door opens back up, and you two step back just one step each, his hand holding yours again as the lady walks back in, smiling at you both.

“So deeply in love, aren’t you both? What a dream!” She says, her hand on her chest, and you shyly look down, as Satoru stares at you.

“Falling deeper every day.” He murmurs, your eyes catch him, and you can’t take it, how easily it flows with him, how much you want to fall right in his arms. You try to compose yourself, curious if it could be true, or if he’s being sweet for the lady. But is it… true?

“Indeed, we are.” You answer softly, earning his little smile, a smile that comes to mean more by the moment.

“Are you sure you’re ready to tell me?” You ask carefully, in his study later that night, Satoru nods, clearly uncomfortable now, when he pulls out a locket, a thick rose gold one that hangs on a looped chain.

“I owe it to you, to explain this. Her name… was Adelia.” He manages to say, and you tilt your head curiously as you watch the pain on his handsome face.

“Was? Is she…”

“Not dead, though I would prefer that. I’m horrible, I know.”

“Satoru…”

“She’s banished, when I became Duke I sent her far, far away. But she’s alive and kicking, I’m sure, out in France somewhere. I gave her plenty of money for the rest of her life.” He says with a harsh laugh, then he looks at you carefully, taking your hand and looking at it. “Does it hurt?”

“Not at all, I had a good doctor.” He smiles sadly, then places the locket in your hand, and you open it, gasping.

You look at Satoru then, vulnerable and exhausted, then look back at his locket, at this woman who truly looks exactly like you, to the point it is eerie. It’s almost as if it is you, she surely is some relation or perhaps a long lost sister, the only difference is she’s older than you, and her eyes are different, just a bit. They’re the same color, but there's something cold in them.

“She looks like a twin sister.” You murmur softly, sitting down in the big leather chair Satoru frequently falls asleep in as he pours over his work. He sighs, nodding, leaning against the chair, sitting just at the arm.

“It’s uncanny, is it not?” He murmurs, and you think of him then, with her, and for some reason it makes you sick.

“It’s eerie, certainly. Adelia was her name?”

“Yes. I long ago said I’d never utter her name, but you deserve to know, as for what she did…” He stands then, walking away, pacing the study now, running a hand through his silky hair. You stand as well, walking to the center of the room and stopping him with gentle hands.

“Tell me, please, so that I may understand.” You are pleading softly, and he exhales then, nodding, but you see his jaw tense, feel his emotions rising.

“Long story cut very short, I was madly in love with her, or so I thought. She was the most beautiful thing I’d seen, she was so funny, witty, smart. Unlike anything. I was pathetic for her, spent anything I had, made myself go into debts with my father over the extravagant gifts.” You try to picture Satoru that way, and he notices. “I know it’s a far cry from who I am now.”

“No, I believe I can see you being generous.” You say softly, because the man had literally bought you a horse, and you’ve seen him be very generous with his friends and the staff. It wasn’t out of the realm.

“Generous was an understatement. I let her walk all over me, and thanked her for it. I even knew she had other men, and I’d still beg for her.” You suck in a breath, feeling the hurt, the anger emanating from him.

“Oh.” Is all you manage. “It was disloyal, so you decided to-”

“No, no, I was not disloyal once to her. I only treated you that way.” Satoru chokes on the words, taking several breaths now, as you stand in front of him, the fire crackling in the study, casting shadows of your figures across the walls, flickering flames higher and higher.

“I see.” Is all you can manage. “I suppose I did it as well, and that’s what triggered your reaction?”

“I never should have reacted that way.” He caresses your cheek softly, sighing, leaning lower. “Do not give me excuses for my actions.”

“Not excuses, they are reasons I suppose.”

“Still, even so.” His hand drops then, to your shoulder, resting on one of your puffed sleeves, his long fingers gently touching the fabric. “It’s not that, why I hated you for looking like her, she did something far worse.”

Your brows knit together. “Worse than cheating on you constantly?”

“Yes she… well her and my father…”

You blink then, as it all starts to fall together, Satoru’s fury at his dead father, his fear of having children because he would be just like them, and the unreasonable way he hated you on sight. She couldn’t have…

“She slept with him?” You manage softly, and he nods just a bit, taking several breaths, you gently hold his arms. “Holy fuck.”

“You have such a sailor's tongue.” He says with a little smile, as his eyes glimmer with unshed emotion. “For such a pretty mouth.”

“Satoru, I’m truly sorry. I don’t…”

“It’s no excuse for what I did. But… I hope now, it makes any sense at all. But you never, ever deserved one goddamn thing I did.” He’s looking away now, covering his face, shaking his head. “Nothing I have done to you is okay, I swear I will take it to my fucking grave, the hurt on your face-”

“Satoru.” You gently say, easing his hand down, seeing the glistening of tears on his pale cheek, you swipe it gently, and his hand is delicately holding yours, keeping it there.

“I do not deserve pity or comfort from you, I was terrible. I can’t make up for it, I can’t fix it. I can’t fix this.” His chest heaves now, and you feel your own emotions jolt to life, at his desperation. “And what’s worse, is now I find myself falling for you, and I know I’m not good enough.”

“Falling for me?” You look at him in shock, shaking your head. “Certainly a physical connection-”

“No.” He cuts you off now, bending low, pressing your back against the cherry wood desk of his. Your heart thuds in your chest, as you look up at swirling blue eyes by the fire light of the study, as it casts shadows and planes on his perfect features, features that become dear more and more as you look at them.

“No?” Your voice is a breath.

“No, not just physically. I thought so at first, your beauty outshines hers, you clearly are my type, what a lie that was.”

“Um… clearly.” You manage with a little laugh, and he glares.

“Do not excuse it, do not make light of it, any of it.”

“I am not.”

“But it’s not just physical, today when you were hand twisting fucking crowns for those kids, cutting your pretty hands on those twigs.” He takes one now, running his fingers where little scratches were left, and your breaths come faster and faster. “Yesterday, when you held that little girl. When you lit up and thanked me for that horse. When I saw your true beauty, so deep within.”

“Please… don’t. Don’t say that!” You feel your eyes burn, your throat closing up, as he steals more and more of your heart, wicked fucking Duke Gojo, but he’s serious, while he’s brushing your loose hair back, making your knees weak.

“I can’t help but say it, before you leave me forever.” His voice breaks now, and you’re clinging to his dress shirt, that’s falling loosely over his lithe body. “I love your kind heart, I love your caring nature, fuck everyone in that villiage adores you, everyone adores you. Even my goddamn former mistress, my best friends, they love you.”

You shake your head. “No, I just…”

“And every time I paraded them around, those women, you held your composure, but I know it killed you. I know it did. It hurt you. And I can’t forgive myself for it. For hurting someone so pure and sweet, and pushing you so far, so far you ran into a man’s arms, and I don’t blame you. I don’t.”

“Please don’t. Don’t say all this!”

“Say what, that my heart yearns to see that smile, the one that lights up the entire world?” You choke on your sobs, and he’s swiping at your tears, his own lip trembling as he takes a shaky breath. “That my body burns for your touch, that you haunt my every dream, and every waking moment.” His husky tone nearly breaks you then and there, as your breasts heave up and down with every breath.

“You can’t mean it. You can’t.” You choke out the words, as you feel yourself drawn to him, like he is that all consuming black hole, and you’d be fine getting destroyed if it meant being in his arms.

“I for once am honest, after a month of lies. Feel my heart.” He puts your little hand on his chest, and you feel it, pounding, making you weak, as your eyes lock upon each other.

“It cannot be true, not a word. If you felt that you would have never!”

“I grew to feel it more and more. Now it’s consuming me, whole, I’d let you walk all over me just to feel your goddamn step. I’d let you destroy me just to watch your pretty face as you do. I would do anything to see you smile, to see your face as you feel pleasure, to taste you, to-”

“Fuck, shut up, shut up!” You shove at him now, and he lets you, gulping and staring at you so pleadingly, this six foot plus man who looms so tall, seems so small and fragile. ��I hate you more for saying it all! For making me believe it!” You cry out hoarsely, and he lets you smack at him, nodding, just standing there.

“You should hate me, you should never forgive me.” He whispers sullenly, and you hate that you want to forgive him, that you want him to…

“Hold me, please.” You beg softly, and he breaks with you, holding you tightly against his hard body, enwrapping his strong arms around you, as you bury your face against his chest, crying in earnest.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. I will spend every moment making it up, as much as I can, before you leave.” His voice is a hoarse whisper, and you realize then, you don’t want to fucking leave. “I know I have lost you, I know I never had you.”

“Satoru.” You lean up, looking at him now, and he brushes your endless tears with his long fingers, gulping and nodding for you to continue. “I’m not saying I will stay, but I will say… I have not yet made up my mind to leave, either.”

He blinks then, with those teary lashes, sucking in a breath, his blue eyes swirling as they study you. “You haven’t!?”

“No. Not yet. It does not mean I forgive you, or even like you. But it does mean that… I wish to understand you more, to understand this more.” You take his hand, feeling the thrumming energy between you both. “I will give you that chance, the month, to show me who you are, before I decide fully.”

“I thought I had no chance. I thought you couldn’t wait to leave.” He whispers, and you take a shaky breath now.

“Well, you are trying, and I see it.”

“It’s not too late?”

“I do not know yet. Do you mean it, what you said, about seeing me, seeing me truly?”

He laughs softly, brushing your hair back tenderly, kissing your forehead, something you never thought Duke Gojo would do. “Oh, Princess, I mean every fucking word. I see your heart and soul, the kindness, but you know what I also see? Your bad mouth, your ability to destroy me with a look, your snappy little remarks.” He says with a little smirk now.

You smile a bit then, and he smiles down at you, pressing you further into the desk, and you feel your body react quickly. “Oh do you enjoy that, the way I wreck you with my words?”

“I’d let you wreck me in every fucking way.” His hand slides up your skirts now, and your breath quickens. “You’re strong, you’re not some simpering little damsel, you could probably crush me, kick my ass.”

You giggle now, then his hands pause on your bare thigh, fingering your garter belt, and your pussy reacts by clenching around nothing, your head falling back, a little sigh escaping your lips. “Kick your ass, you’re too big and tall.”

“You’re a scary little thing, I think you’d kick me in the dick.” You laugh again, and he marvels at it, his thumb making little circles closer to your heat. Your own hands slide up his chest, as he makes you feel more seen than anyone ever has, and how does he see you so well?

“I was sorely tempted after that whore on the table.”

“You and that tablecloth move? Fuck that made me hard.”

“You’re always hard, you slutty man.” Your fingers drift down to his belt, toying with him, giving him a little smile, and he smirks, his free hand cupping your face.

“I would do anything to feel you again, even knowing I do not deserve you. Give anything for you to sit on my face.”

Your tummy clenches, face flushed at the lewd, insane images he brings. “Sit on your face!? I… what!?”

He sighs, kissing you gently, finding you with his fingers finally, moaning softly as he does, you drink up his moans into your mouth. “I’ve had this fantasy of your thighs on either side of my face, pussy dripping on me.”

“Satoru that… sounds insane!”

“You could shut my mouth up, use me how you want. Ride me.” His words destroy you, his touch on your clit makes you moan, and he’s watching you hungrily, lips parted. “Fuck you’re beautiful. So wet, I want it dripping down my face.”

“We shouldn’t do this.” You whisper, but your hips are leaning forward, to more of his touch, Satoru’s lips hover just above yours, and you embarrassingly hear how wet you are when he’s rubbing between your lips.

“You shouldn’t give me anything, but you do, and I’m too selfish and greedy not to drink up every bit of it. Of you.”

“Shit.”

“You cuss so-” You yank him down now, slamming his lips upon yours, he’s grabbing at you desperately, tongue swirling in your mouth, as his fingers find you so hot and eager, soaking him. “I could never kiss another set of lips.”

“Liar.”

“Well, your other set of lips.” He says with a smirk, and you hate it, how charming he is, how handsome, how much you just fucking love him touching you, how much you enjoy him truly. You don’t want to enjoy him, you don’t want to need him, but it is a need, very much, a deep need from every part of you.

“Manwhore.” You say with a scowl, and he’s kissing you once more, biting your lower lip with sharp teeth, making you tremble as your hands now cling to his shoulders, feeling the strong muscles move as he fingers your wetness.

“You’re no pure, innocent little thing, are you now?” He raises a brow, and you’re flushed. “How many times?”

You tense a bit, looking up at him. “Twice.”

He blinks now, pausing, his mouth open. “Only twice!?”

“How much did you think? Keep fingering me and shut up, mmm.” He listens to you thank god, this man talks so fucking much, fingering you once more, pressing on that little spongy spot inside you over and over, you’re gasping and crying out as he plays you so fucking perfect.

“I thought much more. No wonder you seemed so surprised when I flipped you over, took you from behind.” He whispers in your ear now, and you heat up at the memory, as he’s breathing in your ear, making shivers slip down your spine. “Did you get this wet for him?”

“No, you stupid man. Fuck you for that too.” He slips two inside of you now, pressing up over and over, your thighs trembling as you overheat now, desire pooling and bringing you closer and closer. “Mmm!”

“Those sounds you make, fuck.” He pulls back to look at you, cupping your face, the intensity of his stare with his pumping fingers in your slick cunt make you rise higher and higher. “You’re so sexy, so beautiful.”

“You don’t-”

“I do think so, I know so. Every bit of you.” He’s pressing in so deep you can’t take it, kissing down your throat now, your breasts, and your hands enwrap in his hair, as you crave more and more of him, as you lose yourself to it. You feel as if somehow you are yourself more with him than you could be with anyone, you didn’t have to be ‘perfect’ anymore.

“I shouldn’t want this so badly.” You whisper, pulling back, but he’s fucking into you with those fingers, drawing you closer and closer.

“Cum on my fingers, please. Let me watch you.” He murmurs, eyes lidded, and you do then, you fall apart, head falling back, nearly collapsing on his desk as you’re pulsing around his fingers. Your entire body lit up. “Fuck.”

“Mnh.” Satoru hungrily slides up your skirts then, bringing you to him, your thighs gripping his lithe hips, taking his two fingers now and putting them in your mouth.

“Suck yourself off, like a good little slut, would you?” You glare, biting him, and he chuckles even as he shakes his hand, exhaling and studying you so intensely. “You’re a vicious little thing.”

“Fuck you.” You yank him closer again however, and he’s slamming things off his desk, papers flying.

“Fuck you right here, huh? I want you in my bed.”

“We’ll get there. And my bed, I would like to burn yours.”

“Burn it hmm?”

“Indeed.” You slip off his dress shirt now, exhaling as you run fingers down his every muscle. “Your body is so…”

“So?”

“Don’t get cocky. It’s so beautiful.” He unlaces your bodice now, as you’re sitting on his desk, looking up at him, and he then begins to unlace your stays, letting your breasts bounce out for his eager eyes.

“Your body is so beautiful. I almost fainted like a schoolboy when you first showed me them.” You laugh a bit, and he tilts his head, caressing the sides of them with his fingers, your nipples grow taut, he watches as they tighten for him. “I’ve heard you laugh a lot tonight.”

“I used to laugh, you know. At times.”

“It lights up your face.” You can hardly stand how he speaks, so softly, you melt in front of him. “It lights up my heart.”

You gulp now, throat dry. “You have a heart, Duke Gojo?”

“Satoru. And yes.” He cups your breasts now, bending low, your hands entwine in his silky locks as he leans over you, pressed between your thighs, you feel him, so hard and hot. “It’s perhaps shattered in pieces, but seeing you laugh, smile? It feels as if perhaps I can piece some together. Not enough for you, but you’d have it all.”

“Oh shut up.” You can’t take it, his raw emotion, how easy it would be to dive into him, but fuck you need him, need him like your air, how does one make it so hard to breathe yet he’s all you want to breathe!?

“Tell me what you want, Princess.” Satoru murmurs now, gripping your thighs and pulling you against him, you feel his length pressing on you over his breeches, and you are wanton when you grind on him, soaking him.

“No.”

“Then never mind.” He pulls away and you glare.

“Get back here.”

“And do what?”

“Fuck me.” Duke Gojo moans then, rushing back, as you eagerly unbutton his pants, as you stroke his pretty cock that springs free, watching his pretty face contorted in pleasure.

“Promise me you’ll sit on my face later, and I will.”

“Oh fine, I will, just fuck- ah!” Satoru’s pressing on your entrance now, only the edge of your ass on his desk, as he’s sucking in a breath, feeling your wetness pulse around him. You almost come from his tip again, you barely hold it together, eyes rolling back when he sinks in more and more. “Mmm!”

“Fuck you’re so tight, oh my god.” Satoru’s words break in the middle as he gasps, sinking in so deep, leaning over you now, breathing heavy in little pants as he studies your face. “Pussy so good it makes men stupid.”

“You’re already- ah- stupid!” Satoru’s shoving hard in you now, glaring, and you can’t stop the cry as you feel him stroking in and out of your soppy little cunt now, his big hands gripping your thighs, your ass, anywhere he can reach, stretching you out so good. “Satoru.”

He’s pumping into you now, and you’re feeling so good you can’t remember a goddamn thing, just whimpering. “I’ll fuck you so good, Princess, you will forget anything I did.”

“Then do it, then do it. Please.” He slams his lips on yours, before flipping you over, unzipping your skirts and leaving you bare, stripping your chemise off you in one fell swoop, before he smacks your ass. You gasp. “Excuse you?”

“Someone should punish you for your mouth.” He whispers, lifting your tummy onto the desk so you’re at level, legs dangling as he presses them wide. “Fuck, this view…”

“What are you-” You’re cut off then, as Satoru is shoving his cock back inside, you grip the desk, but he takes your hands, pressing them behind your back and holding them, using them as leverage to fuck you harder. Your moans are so loud you’re sure the entire staff can hear, feeling so much pleasure it’s blinding.

“I always wanted to fuck you so hard your tiara clatters to the fucking floor.” He huffs then, slamming into your pussy and staying there, you’re shuddering as his tip drags along your walls.

“It’s… not… I… mmm!” You’re getting fucked so good, Satoru hits so deep you can’t take it, your walls are fluttering, tightening.

“Feel you clenching around me like that, holy… fuck…” He’s smacking your ass again, stinging your cheeks, but it just makes you wetter, as does his hand pulling your hair back now, body arched into an S curve just for him. “Did he fuck you this good, your silly baker?”

“Did they feel this good, your mistresses?” You counter with a whisper, and he laughs, before groaning.

“Fuck no. No one ever has.” You hate that you enjoy hearing it so much, but you do, you love that he’s owning you, fucking into you, so big compared to you, you feel so tiny and helpless, and it’s just urging you on. “No one could feel this good.”

“Mnh…”

“So good I’d cum in you, have you round with my child.”

“Satoru!”

“I would if you wanted, fuck you’d be so sexy, cum pouring our of your little hole, mmm. I’d lick it up out of you, spit it in your mouth.”

The fuck the man is some demon, all he does is urge you on with his words, his hands, his cock until - “Satoru- cumming!”

“Good girl, good girl. Cum all over me.” He urges then, his hands letting your arms go, one wrapping around your waist, finding your clit, just pushing you further, until you’re a writhing mess, wetness gushing everywhere. “There you go, so good for me, dripping all over, aren’t you?”

“Ngh.” You cannot manage anymore words, not when he fills you with the most lewd images, not when he fills you with his cock, stuffed so deep you feel the weeping tip kissing your cervix. Satoru’s fingers rub in tantalizing circles over your clit, which twitches in response, you get so weak you lay forward on the desk, legs shaking.

“Can’t hold yourself up, are you so weak, Princess?” He whispers, menacingly, fuck him, fuck Duke Gojo- “F-fuck… oh my… you like that, don’t you?”

“Shut up, Satoru.” He laughs softly, before gasping, now hovering over you, one hand braced against the desk, the other tilting your face to the side.

“So good you’re crying?”

“C-crying because… you’re… pissing… me… off! Just shut up and- ah!” Satoru slams hard into you now, a hand around your neck, and you are arching your ass for more and more of him.

“I want to cum in you so bad, fill you up. Fuck you make me stupid.”

“You already are, remem- mmm!”

“Bratty girl.” He huffs, smacking your ass again, harder now, before gripping it, pressing your face down on his desk. “Arch that ass up, Princess.”

You weakly obey, as he’s pressing your head against the cool wood of the desk, and you’re arched up for him, for his smacks, for his thrusts. You feel drool pooling out the side of your mouth he fucks you so good, slamming into you with each thrust, hand clutching in your hair tightly. You’re getting fucked so good you can’t form a thought, except-

“More.” You plead, Satoru groans at that, obeying you, fucking you harder, faster, deeper, until you’re climaxing so hard you can scarcely breathe, shattering and twitching, pussy gripping him so tightly, you feel him everywhere. You feel him splitting you in two, filling you so good you can’t stand it.

“Cum again.” He orders, through gritted teeth, bending low over you, his chest slick with sweat against your back, slowing his thrusts now, swiping the drool from your lips, kissing the tears falling on your cheek. “Beautiful.”

“Mmm. Why do I believe- ah- you.” You whisper, when he’s pulling you up, turning you now, lifting you back on the desk, to look at you intensely, his swirling blue eyes like a storm in the evening, so hard to even look at, yet you’re drowning in them.

“You are the most beautiful thing that exists.” He is gentle suddenly, which throws you more off kilter, your cunt sucks him back in, as he’s holding onto you, kissing you, tongues so messy and slow, leisurely, like he’s exploring every inch of your mouth. You cling to his shoulders, shaking everywhere, closer and closer. “Perfect for me, made for me.”

“Shh.” You can’t handle him, falling deeper for him every moment he breathes, wishing you could hate him more, wishing you could remember at the moment how horrible he’d been, but you feel his heat, his energy, his length… his touch, and it breaks down every defense you’ve ever had.

“Love being inside of you.” He says then, pulling your hips up to grind on your cervix now, eyes drinking you in, you’re stretched so good, you feel him thicken inside, feel his every movement, as you’re soaking him, soaking so much you drip to the floor. “Love watching you.”

“I love you inside me.” You can’t hold it in, and he gasps, pausing just to look a you, your cunt is spasming around him, your head falling back weakly.

“You love it?”

“I love it, Satoru…” He kisses you again, grinding until you cum so hard you can’t breathe, gasping and clinging to him so tightly, nails digging into the taut skin of his back, burying your face in his chest as he moans, slowing his strokes.

“There it is. Good girl.”

“Don’t say that. Mnh, I’m dumb enough.” You kiss up his chest, his neck, as his hands take over your little waist, his eyes drinking you in, kissing your cheeks, your face, it’s far too intimate, it’s too much, overwhelming you, while you’re a mess around him.

“Where do you… want me to… m’close, fuck.” He whispers, and you struggle to form a coherent thought, as your inner thighs tighten around his hips, whining out at how good he feels inside your walls.

“Let me swallow you.” You whisper, and his mouth drops.

“Oh you’re such a freak, I love it.” He pumps in you harder before pulling back, and pulling you down. “On your knees, pretty.”

You eagerly get on them, looking up at him, he is stroking his slick length, you smack his hand, doing it yourself, the pearls of your ring glowing. Satoru’s free hand strokes your hair, his head falling back when you stroke him, opening your mouth. He lets out this sexy little whine when his tip hits your tongue, and you taste yourself on him as you suck him deeper.

“Oh my… slutty princess.” He whispers, but you love it, love throbbing and aching from him, love being on your knees, as he caresses your face, shoving his cock into your mouth. “F-fuck, you sure you can swallow it all?”

“Shut up and cum, Satoru.” You whisper, pulling back with a pop, and he follows your order, gasping as he cums in your mouth now, and cums so much, you swallow every bit of him up, fuck he’s so sweet, like those candies he sucks on.

You gulp down every bit, hot and sticky and pulsing down your throat, as he keeps fucking your mouth through it, more and more little spurts of cum, you greedily suck him clean, cheeks hollowing. He’s whispering a mantra of how beautiful you are, how good you are, a mess over you.

“Open up, lemme see.” You open your mouth now, tongue out, and he groans, helping you stand, gripping your chin. “Want to swallow more of me, Princess?”

You nod nervously, and he leans over you now, spitting in your mouth, gripping your chin so possessively as the stream of saliva streams. You swallow it as well, opening your mouth for his inspection, and he’s kissing you again, tongue devouring you, picking your naked body up in his arms.

“God you’re so good. Do you even know, what you look like with that mouth open wide, with those pretty eyes fucked out?” He’s kissing you over and over, and soon he’s changed how he’s holding you, bridal style. You’re shaking then, your emotions overwhelming you.

“Don’t hold me like this.” You say softly, and he shakes his head, kissing you as he carries you effortlessly.

“I should have, that night. Weigh nothing, little slip of a girl. I was wrong. So bloody wrong, about it all. Now let me do everything I have dreamed of, while I have you here.” You’re crying then, as he carries you into your room.

“You listened.” You whisper, and he’s nodding, gently laying you down on your back, leaning on top of you, hovering just so, drinking you in.

“We’ll burn that bed if you wish. I’ll do anything to keep you happy, to keep you smiling, keep you cumming.” His hands trail down your tummy, it trembles under his touch.

“I’ve already cum too much. I cannot do more, insane man.” He smiles softly then, touching you everywhere, you’re so sensitive you can’t stand it. “Perhaps after some rest, I’m sore.”

He laughs softly, nodding then. “So, may I rest here with you?”

You gulp then, biting your lower lip. “You want to lay in bed?”

“Of course I do. I yearn to hold you every night.” You shut your eyes while he strokes your arms gently, then your waist. “You will send me away, had your way with my cock and send me off like a mistress.”

“Oh stop that, silly man.” You look up at him, grinning so big against your will, and his breath catches. “What is it?”

“Every time you smile like that, it’s like you grip me here.” He puts your hand on his bare chest now, and you sigh, tracing your fingers along one of his well formed pectoral muscles.

“I want to trust this, believe this, but I’m fucking terrified. What if I let you in, and you fully destroy me?” You whisper, unable to stop your tears, Satoru’s eyes shut, he rests his head on yours.

“I know you’re scared. I can give you time. I’m doing too much-”

“No, I want it all. All of this.” You lean up now, kissing him through your tears, over and over, you’re a tangle of limbs on the bed now, he’s pulling you even closer against him, a thigh between yours, pressing up.

“I want all of you. Every bit of you.” He says huskily. “I’d let you do anything, if you just come back to me.”

“Satoru I only want you, so much so I… I thought of you when…”

“I thought of you too. About how it’d feel tighter, wetter.” You whine out when he’s shoving two fingers in your sore little entrance now, your head falling back, exposing your throat for his kisses, his bites. “Pictured that beautiful face of yours, saw you in my every dream.”

“You took over my dreams.” He moans now, slamming his lips back to yours, and you feel yourself falling further and further into the abyss that is him, into his every touch, every look, every sound he makes. You feel him wrapping you up, and you never want to escape.

“You dreamt of me?” He asks, you see him so vulnerable again, and now that you know his past, you realize how hard it must be. You cup his face gently.

“Over and over, against my will. If I dreamt of someone, your face would take over, annoying me to no end.” He grins then, pecking a kiss on your breasts now, looking up through his long white lashes.

“My dreams were not annoying.”

“Well you annoy me, so. Vex me to no end.”

“Do I? Or are you vexed that you enjoy me?” He teases, earning you rolling your eyes at him, then he’s back to fingering you, and you forget everything, as he’s pumping in and out of you, and you’re dripping everywhere, embarrassingly. “You get wetter than anyone, I swear.”

“It’s annoying too.”

“Is it now? Hear yourself.” You do then, hear the squishing, you’re blushing so furiously, and you’re feeling him hard again, right on your thigh. “Did you get your rest now?”

“I haven’t- ah - rested!” He’s running his thumb on your clit, you’re arching up for more and more of him, lost in him, in his blue eyes that kill you.

“You rode that horse so well.” He pulls you then, on his chest, grinning up at you deviously, and you’re trembling.

“I can’t sit on your face!”

“You sure can, Princess, look, there you are.” He’s gripping the plush of your inner thighs, and you’re straddling his pretty face, he moans when he looks at your pussy, licking his lips. “Is this my dessert?”

“Oh you’re insane! What if I crush you!?” You’re holding yourself up by the headboard, shaking as he laughs against you, breath tickling your pussy, making more wetness trickle down.

“You cannot crush me, foolish girl. Please, ride my face, as much as you want, you can shut me up fully.” You can’t take his sexy eyes, his beautiful lips, as you’re hesitantly easing down on him, your pussy hovering right above his face.

“If you can’t breathe will you tap me or something!?”

He laughs softly. “You will not hurt me, little Princess. Now, c’mere.” He yanks you down now, burying his face against you, you gasp, back arching, you’re clinging to his silky hair, trying to balance yourself. Your stomach tightens as he’s lapping you up, fucking you with his tongue, nose hitting your swollen nub.

“Toru!” You scream out, and he backs away then, eyes hitting yours, flicking his tongue along your slit, his hands holding your hips tightly.

“What now?” He asks, husky, and you bite your lip nervously.

“Um, it came out that way?” You whisper, he smiles then, lashes lowering, pressing a kiss on your pussy lips gently.

“I like it. Now, ride me, pull my hair all you want. Use me.”

“Fuck.” Why is this duke so stupidly attractive!?

You begin to do just that, and he’s moaning as you do, as you’re rolling your hips on his perfect features, soaking him completely, you are gasping in pleasure as his hot, wet muscle devours you. He’s licking between your lips, hitting every bit of you, and you’re even wetter, so wet you watch it drip down his face, until it’s shimmering with you, and then he’s pushing you even further down onto him.

His face is buried against you, his cock thick and hard, twitching, pre cum oozing out of the tip as he tastes you, bucking his own hips up. You feel the tension coiling in your tummy as he keeps licking and sucking, finally pulling your little clit in his hot mouth, sucking and looking up at you with those gorgeous, dilated fucking eyes, and you fall apart then.

You’re cumming all over him, gushing wetness all over him, feeling your body engulf in his flames, taking over you from head to toe, toes that are curling, your mouth open in a scream, hoarse as you roll your hips one more time. Your eyes lock on his, and he’s looking so adoringly at you, as he finally takes a breath, flicking his tongue over you once more, watching you shatter for him.

“Oh my god, Satoru… can’t take anymore.” You whimper weakly, only for him to pull you off his face, sliding you on his lap, slamming his lips on yours, as he grinds you against his length. “Satoru…”

“I liked Toru.” He teases with a smile, then moans as his tip bumps your clit, and you’re covering his cock with even more arousal, sticky and hot. “Fuck that was the sexiest thing, would you believe I haven’t done it?”

“No you’re a whore.” He chuckles, wrapping an arm around your waist, sitting up as you grind yourself on his cock now, whining softly at how good it feels, clinging to his shoulders.

“I have not done that, no. God I want to always have you on my lips.” He says, husky, kissing you over and over, your tongues swapping your taste, and then he’s lifting you, easing you back down his cock, you’re weak as he does, eyes going wide now. “Ride me, love.”

“Don’t call me love, ugh. Liar.” You whisper weakly, he shakes his head, kissing down your breasts, as you take more of him, inch by inch, sore legs from riding struggling to roll more on his cock, eliciting his moans.

“I did not lie today. I fall deeper for you.” He cups your face now, as he snaps his hips up into your tight cunt, and you shake your head, tears of how good he feels pricking your eyes, making you choke up. “I do.”

“Fuck you.”

“You are.” You giggle again, softly, pressing him down on his back then, your hair falling against his chest like a curtain.

“You want me to fuck you?” He nods eagerly, grabbing your ass, as you brace yourself on him, and he’s moaning, looking at your body, how your breasts sway when you start riding his cock in earnest. “So deep!”

“You’re gorgeous like this, fuck.” He’s enamored, his hands everywhere he can touch, as he lets you control everything, just urging you on here and there, watching you eagerly. “You are doing such a good job.”

“Stop saying the right thing.” He bucks his hips up with a glare, fucking up into you then, and you’re clinging to him desperately, breasts in his face now, he’s eagerly sucking them into his mouth.

“I should shut this bratty mouth up. I’m trying to be sweet, but you’re a freaky little brat.”

“Me freaky!?”

“Yes you. C’mere now.” He’s got you laying on him, his feet flattening on the bed, and now he’s fucking up into you, making you drip down his stomach, everywhere, your mouths devouring each other again. He’s desperate in his kisses, in his thrusts, and you feel yourself impossibly higher, as you’re helpless on top of him, just letting him use you so good.

“S’Toru…” He moans again, lifting your ass up with his big hands like it’s nothing, slamming you down his length so hard your mouth drops open, eyes rolling back.

“How can you feel this perfect? You’re made f’me, fucking say it.”

“N-no!”

“Say it, Princess. Just say it.”

“No!” He smacks your ass now, and you weakly cling to him, just wetter now, pussy so sore and stretched by him, but fuck you want it, you want all of Satoru, the Duke Gojo under you.

“Made for me.” He whispers through gritted teeth, you shake your head. “Stubborn, you’re so stubborn. Every inch of your little body is mine.”

“It’s not. Fuck you. Mmm!” He’s biting your throat now, grinding his hips so that his cock’s tip presses on your cervix, then your orgasm hits so hard you can hardly rememeber a thing. You can hardly keep to this timeline, to anything, all you can cling to is Satoru.

“Made for me. Say it.” He smacks you again, and you just cry out softly, weak and unable to move or hold yourself up. He flips you onto your back, hands entwining with yours, so intimate you can’t stand it, you feel like you can’t breathe when he’s laying on top, staring at you.

“Satoru…”

“Say it. That she’s made for me. Don’t I make her feel so good?” He whispers, rolling his hips again, and you moan, nodding. “Say it.”

“Made for you.” Your words are a breathy sigh, but Satoru is moaning, kissing you so deeply, one hand entwined in yours, the other gripping your hair tightly, pulling at it as he moves over you gently.

“I want you to be mine. All mine.” He says against your ear now, kissing it, biting it, and you’re senseless under him, anything you had left to fight is gone. “God I love everything about you.”

“Satoru!”

“I want to breed your pretty pussy so bad, fuck. How can you make me this way, fucking witchcraft.” He’s babbling nonsensically as he pumps, and you see his pupils are pinpoints, his eyes bright and insane. “How will I ever get over you!?”

“Just… just… feel me. Feel me. I feel you.” Your free hand touches his heart, emotions so deep as you look into his eyes you can’t handle it, you cannot take how much you are falling, it’s a neverending abyss, Satoru Gojo, you’re exhausted from holding it all back. “I just want you.”

“I just want you.” He whispers back, and then you’re so overstimulated every breath brings you higher, his hips are gently stroking, rolling, you’re reaching up for him, for more, drinking in every bit of him. “Never want this to end, fuck. Don’t even wanna cum.” His words are against your collarbone as he’s nipping, biting, declaring things that make your heart falter.

Can you trust him?

Fuck you want to.

“Would I get pregnant if you…”

His eyes go wide now. “Possibly.”

“Then you can’t…”

“Then I can’t…” He presses a hand on your stomach, leaning up and exhaling. “Not until you decide.”

“I want you to, though.” He groans at your insane confession. “Don’t… but I do… want it…”

“Fuck.” He fucks you hard for a moment, chasing his release, clinging to you desperately, then he pulls back. “Can I cum on it?”

“Will that be okay?” You ask, he nods, and you bite your lip. “You can.”

“Jesus fuck, I don’t deserve any of this.” He exhales then, pulling out, stroking his cock, and hot white ropes shoot out, hitting the outer lips of your pussy, he’s moaning as he watches it, and you’re so flushed and flustered, at how lewd it looks. His hot sticky cum all over your pussy. “Oh my god look at you.”

“It’s obscene.” You say, and he laughs then, breathless, all sweaty and glistening, cupping your chin and tilting it up.

“The obscene things I want to do to your pretty body have barely began.”

“Barely began!?”

“You’re so cute.”

“Cute!”

“Mmm. Cute and slutty looking at the same time.” He fingers the sticky substance, all out of breath as you are. “I made you a mess. Shall I clean you, Princess?”

“Why do you seem so devious!? I… Satoru!” He’s lapping up his own cum off your pussy, and then he’s leaning over you, prying your mouth open with two fingers, spitting his cum inside your mouth. You gasp as he does, only serving to make your sore pussy throb with more need.

“You’re so sexy, fuck.” He whispers, as you swallow him all up.

“You’re ridiculous, Satoru Gojo. A fiend.” He smirks, but you’re reaching down, playing with it yourself, sucking him off your fingers.

“Fuck I can’t get enough of you. You too sore?”

“Yes too sore, insane man.” You kiss him again, as both of your fluids are mixing with your saliva, dripping between you both. “I’m exhausted now.”

“Let me sleep with you, please.” He pouts, as if he hadn’t just spit his cum in your mouth, like some innocent puppy.

“Oh fine, but let’s actually clean up. And you’re making me tea.”

“I don’t know how to make fucking tea!”

“You put the kettle on!?”

“What the fuck is a kettle? I’ll fetch a servant.”

“No, you make me tea, or no sleeping in my bedchambers.” He scowls, and you glare now.

“You’re cruel and evil, I made you cum countless times, and demanding more shit from me?”

“Mmhmm.”

“Fine, you teach me.” He cleans you up properly with a washcloth, then he’s dressing you in one of your night wrappers, a pretty soft pale blue, which he ties carefully in the front. “You’re so pretty.”

“Thank you.” You say, and he grins.

“Finally, no arguments?”

“None for the moment. Now, tea.” You drag him by his hand, and he follows you through the halls, you see several of the servants smiling and grinning, even your nan smiles softly as you two enter the kitchen. “Nan, fetch some tea please, I need to show this grown man how to make some.”

“I’ve always had a staff.” He huffs, and your Nan laughs softly, coming with a kettle and several pouches.

“Thank you!”

“You’re welcome, my sweet girl. Your grace.” She curtsies a bit, still giving Satoru the eye, and he sighs as she walks out.

“She wants to kill me.”

“You blame her? She had to see a lot no one else did.” It grows a little serious now, as you prepare the water, setting it in the kettle and firing it up. You look back at him as it begins to steam. “I do not say that to hurt you.”

“I know. It’s just… I cannot imagine what you went through because of me.” You hug him then, letting him sway you side to side, drinking in his presence, letting it soak into your bones, your being. “You told me to make it.”

“You can pour the water.” He snorts at that, changing the tense subject, but as he caresses your cheek, you can tell his actions weigh on him. Finally you set the bags of pretty herbs into two cups. “Let’s see a high pour.”

“A what now?” You giggle, shaking your head.

“Pour high, Satoru.”

He pours the hot, steamy water on top of the tea bags, and you both sit down at one of the servant tables, your pussy and ass so sore you wince. He grins. “Sore, huh Princess?”

“Oh do you ever shut that mouth, Satoru!?”

“When you rode my-”

“Hush, now, sip.” He blows on the steaming liquid, lips that had drank your cries, lips that did obscene things, his long fingers holding the delicate little handle of the teacup, you can barely control how much you desire him, everything about him.

“There, I made you tea, bratty girl. You’ll lay with me.” He huffs, and then snatches you up, sitting you on his lap.

“Oh fine, if you snore I shall kick you right out, you can lay in your whore bed.”

“My whore bed, hmm?”

“Mmhmm! Oh, we have a ball to go to tomorrow, I nearly forgot with all we’ve been doing in town.”

“Imagine a ball where we don’t hate each other.”

“Who says I don’t.” He smiles then, shaking his head, kissing your cheek softly, hand running down your back. “A little less though.”

“I’ll take a little less. Did you enjoy cooking so much to get away from your mother I wonder?”

“That is how it started. Ugh, she’ll be there. Back to the corset.”

“Fuck no.” He grips your little waist then, and your eyes flutter shut at how good it feels. “You’ll wear no corset, you can wear those stays, so I can see more of your pretty form.”

“Satoru…” He hums then, as you sip your tea, setting it down with a click, wrapping your arms around him. “Fuck it. I’m very happy.”

“I’m so happy with you. Like this with me.” He kisses your chest softly, where your heart races for him, snowy white hair tickling you as it falls.

“I’m scared though.”

“I know. I will keep proving to you that I can be worthy, I swear it.” He declares, eyes looking up at you, and you believe him, you really do.

Maybe you’re a fool but you feel his sincerity.

“Let us sleep, Satoru, and no more funny business. I’m sore.”

“In the morning though?”

“Satoru!” He is laughing, picking you up in his arms again, and fuck it feels good to be held like this. You’re so terrified something will happen, to ruin this, something outside of you and Satoru, so scared it gnaws at you, but it’s eased when you’re later in his arms, under your thick blankets, and he’s holding you.

Satoru Gojo, your husband, spends the first night in bed with you, after nearly a month of marriage.

You fall asleep easily for the first time since you got here.

A/N: So this was a very Gojo/Reader based chapter, with the upcoming ball we will have more drama and intrigue, for now these two just were enjoying each other and opening up. The first bit of lightness I think I've written in here! Hope you enjoy a lighter chap, and smut filled.

Until next time, dear readers

Taglist : @kalopsia-flaneur @bunheadusa @7thsthings @disilluzions @chiyokoemilia @antisocialinlw @Sukunassfinger @lelsforlino @peppertoastuniverse @muvasuperior @prince-wyiilder @lavender-hvze @ssetsuka @labelt-san @sadmonke @philiatothephobia @ambiguouslady42 @stromynight @dreamygirli3 @jjknanamin @jazlenekasi @victoriaaaa00 @wuvnada @valleydoli @nanasukii28 @sw3etnena @dark-agate @tamaki-simp @yuuuumii @givluv2tyy @webshooterrr9 @miizuzu @thikcems @erensblackwife @murayamayoshiki-lovergurl @airandyeah @jaylenezzz @blue-musingss @huuuhwhaat @makingtimemine @saccharinesatoru @sunnyviewsblog @nanananananaiknow @spookyblackhottie @ekaterinatepes @murayamayoshiki-lovergurl @szna @crimsonmarabou @teacupwaifu

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ckret2 · 7 months ago

Text

Chapter 48 of human Bill Cipher slowly dying inside for 24 hours straight with no signs of stopping anytime soon:

The Eclipse: Part 6

Over a month since his death and after nearly 50 chapters, at long last, the moment you've all been waiting for:

Bill has a complete physical and mental breakdown.

Unfortunately there's only one person available to deal with it.

They landed near where they'd camped last night. While the Pines climbed out, Bill stared at the sharp gray rocks beneath the cliff. The blood was gone. It took him a moment to process that Ford was speaking: "We can pack our tents, return Tate's boat, and borrow a phone to call Stanley for a ride."

Bill numbly climbed onto land.

Their tents were in disarray, but more or less where they'd left them the night before. While Ford and Dipper dealt with the largest tent and cleaned up the campsite, Bill methodically attempted to fold up the tent he'd slept in.

He couldn't make sense of it. There were too many plastic rods with too many little joints and too many fabric flaps, he couldn't parse the geometry of it. This should be easy, he'd watched Dipper assemble the tent last night, how hard could it be to do the same in reverse?

But it wasn't working. His hands were shaking. The joints were bending wrong, the joints were bending in directions that shouldn't exist, in impossible dimensions, shrinking and expanding perversely as they twisted in alien foreshortening—

Bill let out a gasp so loud and sharp that Ford and Dipper immediately whipped around to face him. Ford asked, "What is it?"

Bill couldn't speak. He just stared down at his awful human legs.

"Bill?"

Voice very far away—but impressively calm and flat—Bill said, "I have to sit down."

"Why? What happened?"

"My legs aren't working. I can't feel them."

His knees buckled. He tried to grip them to keep them straight, but found only one arm responded. "And—my left arm." He dropped to his knees in the mud.

And suddenly he was the center of attention, two humans moving around him in a dizzying flurry, all grotesque limbs and fabric: "Hey, are you okay?" "What happened? Are you injured?" "Think we should get help?" "Maybe he needs food—"

Too much. He closed his eyes, but there were still fingers on his arm and shoulders and back. He swatted at them with his functioning hand. "Don't touch me don't touch me DON'T TOUCH ME!" His shriek startled the birds from a nearby tree. He attempted to bite somebody, he wasn't sure who—this was what he'd been reduced to, no legs, no strength, no power, he couldn't even protect himself from being touched, all he had left was his teeth—but he misjudged the distance and bit only air. But it was enough to make the humans back off, shrinking into the distance.

"Don't touch me. Stop trying to move me. Don't ask me why I can't move. I don't know. This—this—" he gestured frantically at his body. He was moving too fast, talking too fast. "This—corpse—human body—is stupid. It's just being stupid! I need to sit. Leave me alone, I need to sit. I need to sit, and—look at nothing, and breathe." He was talking far too fast, breathing too fast. "I need it so much. Go away."

No matter how hard Bill tried to imagine the humans spontaneously ceasing to exist, they did not go away. Ford knelt in front of him, studying his face. "Try to smile."

Bill forced a smile. "Good. Good, good. Positive thinking."

"No. I'm trying to see if you're having a stroke." He sat back. "Your face muscles are still working symmetrical."

Bill decided to keep smiling anyway. He thought it might help. Happy happy happy.

"You say your can't feel your legs."

"Yes."

"Or your left arm."

"Yes."

"Did you feel any pain beforehand? Tingling in the limbs, or...?"

"No—no, no. They were working fine and then they were gone. They just—disappeared." Bill laughed. The laugh went on too long and sounded too high and too nervous.

Ford nodded. "Okay. Drink this."

A water bottle materialized in Bill's field of vision. It took a couple of tries for Bill to manipulate his hand through three-dimensional space to grasp it. He shakily drank as much as he could. It tasted like drowning.

"Dipper, run to the bait shop and call for an... The nearest hospital is at least twenty miles outside Gravity Falls' weirdness barrier, Bill can't get there. Call for a doctor and I'll stay here to—"

"No," Bill snapped, "no no no, don't call a doctor. I don't want—" He didn't want to be seen like this. He didn't want somebody picking him up and helping him into an ambulance like he was too weak to move himself. He didn't want Mabel to know. Bad enough Ford and the brat did. "I don't need it. I'm fine."

"Fine?!" Ford gestured at him in disbelief. "Three fourths of your limbs aren't functioning—!"

"I'm fine, I'm fine. Something's wrong with the body. It's got nothing to do with me. I'm fine, I'm just in it." He shut his eyes and tried to breathe. "Just—just let me sit."

"Let you sit and then do what?"

"Give me time. It'll come back. Don't tell anyone and—stop looking at me."

There was silence. Bill didn't want to open his eyes. He heard Ford stand and walk away.

####

"Do you think he's faking?" Dipper murmured.

Ford hated that that always had to be the first question. "I can't imagine what he'd stand to benefit from pretending he can't walk." Bill had been desperate to get back inside the last two days. If he'd now decided to—what? maybe take advantage of his freedom to try to escape?—then why hadn't he done that when they got separated in the lake, or in the caves where Bill could see in the dark and Ford hadn't known how to call the geodites? If he was trying to separate Ford and Dipper from each other so he could kill them one by one—why hadn't he just let them die?

It was hard not to think about how he really had saved them for no clear reason.

"He's spent two very stressful days hardly eating, sleeping poorly, and hiking through half the mountain. I'd say he needs food and rest. And probably more water." He'd gulped down two thirds of Ford's water bottle.

"Seriously? He can't feel his legs, is—is that normal for like a day without food and sleep?" Dipper asked. "People can go longer than that, right? You've gone longer."

"It's not a 'normal' symptom of exhaustion, hunger, or dehydration. But I think he'll fight us if we try to get medical help. Let's deal with the immediate problems first and—see where we are then. Even if it doesn't help, at least then he won't be paralyzed and starving."

Dipper nodded uncertainly. "What do we do if he's dying?"

The boy catastrophized at the drop of a hat. In a way, Ford supposed it was a good thing—having been through his fair share of catastrophes, he knew it helped to be prepared—but Dipper was so young. "Get him to a doctor as soon as we can; and, if that isn't enough... hope we're lucky." In other words: hope Bill stayed dead.

Dipper nodded again. "What's our strategy if Weirdmageddon restarts? Maybe... I wonder if that's what the Axolotl was trying to warn me—"

"Lunch first," Ford said. "Then we can plan for the apocalypse."

####

Bill knew they were going to make him move. They hated him. They would parade him through the streets to make a mockery of him, look at the alien loser in a malfunctioning corpse, washed-up puppeteer who can't even control a meat marionette, he's already dead and you can make his corpse in the forest a tourist destination—

"Okay," Ford said. "We'll give it an hour. Dipper's heading to town to get some proper food and call the shack."

The shack. Like a prison cell with an open door and a black hole inside trying to suck him back in. "Don't tell them—"

Dipper said, "I won't, I'm just letting them know we're not dead. And that we'll call again in a couple of hours."

No doubt so that Bill couldn't kill them without the shack knowing something was wrong. "Right."

"Do you... want any specific food?"

"Not hungry."

There was a pause. "Right. I'll just... grab something."

Bill didn't care what he did. As Dipper left the sound of each footstep was like a knife in Bill's ears. He just needed to breathe, needed to breathe and be normal and feel normal and happy—

Something soft landed on his head.

Bill opened his eyes.

There was an unzipped, slightly moist sleeping bag draped over his head and around his shoulders; and Ford standing several feet away, hands awkwardly clasped behind his back, looking somewhat embarrassed with himself.

Bill said, "What."

Ford cleared his throat. "It. Helped when you were, ah... had a hair cut. I thought—it can't hurt."

It took Bill a moment to figure out what he meant. "Oh." The towel. Ford had seen him hide under a towel. Right.

Ford winced and muttered, "Maybe it can hurt."

Bill croaked, "What."

It wasn't until he tried to speak that Bill realized he was crying so hard he couldn't breathe. His vision swam, his shoulders shook, his breath came in sharp hitches—no no no no, that wasn't okay, not in front of— Stop, stop, stop.

He covered his eyes with his hand. The water bottle slid off his thighs and spilled on the ground. Between gasping breaths, Bill forced out, "This's—this is—good. Good."

"How is it...?"

"It's a—hint. This—it's—prob... probably... ps-psycho—som—ss—"

"Psychosomatic?"

"Mm. Mhmm." He tried to get in a deeper breath and failed. "'Sgreat. Means—no inj—injuries. Flesh is—fine."

"So you're..." Ford's footsteps came closer, "saying it's psychological—?"

"No!" Bill let out a hysterical laugh. "I'm FINE! 'M happy. It's the body. It's—some hormone—hunger—exhaustion—just... s-synapses—and neurotrans—transmm—tr—"

"Easy. You can barely talk." He heard Ford sit next to him, felt the sleeping bag shift as he brushed against it. "Try to focus on breathing—"

"WHAT do you THINK I'm TRYING to—" Bill ineffectively pummeled Ford through the sleeping bag. "Move! Move, move, move! Don't t—touch—" He let out a frustrated scream that morphed into a humiliating sob, and had to clap his functioning hand over his mouth to smother the sound. He was not this body; he was a separate thing locked inside the body. This body was a prison, this body was a punishment. The legs didn't work, because the body was doing something to him. These weren't his tears, his grief, his fear. They were the body's. Which hormone was at fault? What could he blame other than himself?

He felt Ford's weight shift away from his side. "Okay, okay," Ford said. "Just... take it easy."

Bill socked him again. "Don't t-talk to me like a horse." He covered his eyes.

He didn't mean to risk his life for Ford.

Former friend, false worshiper, useless pawn, now enemy. Bill had just seen him floating out there and he'd done it—and he'd forgotten he could die.

In the Nightmare Realm he had saved his friends from peril billions of times before, because it was so easy for him, powers like a god, to see someone he was fond of and casually pluck them out of harm's way. It had been billions upon billions of years since Bill had been vulnerable to physical harm. He'd seen Ford in danger and he'd done what he always did and he'd forgotten he could have died.

He could have died. Eternally, permanently, last chance—he could have died.

And it would have been for nothing.

Bill was selfish. He had effortlessly saved friends billions of times but he'd also casually let them die just as many—assuming he didn't kill them himself. He saved friends because he liked them; but he didn't put himself out for ex-friends. Ford hadn't had one nice thing to say to Bill in years. Bill would never lure Ford back under his sway. Ford's survival endangered Bill's. But Bill had saved him anyway. He hadn't even stopped to think.

He didn't know. He didn't want to know. He didn't want to think about saving the human hellbent on killing him, he didn't want to think about almost dying, he didn't want to think about how peaceful it had been floating under the water, how easy it would have been to open his mouth and breathe in—he didn't want to think. He wanted to stop thinking. He wanted to empty his mind. He couldn't meditate through his hitching breaths and the way his stomach ached from struggling to keep his sobs silent, and his legs and left arm were gone.

He was fine. He was happy. He'd always been happy. Happy happy happy.

His entire body shook with sobs. He was dizzy—gasping between sobs for air he couldn't get. He was so lightheaded and crying so hard he couldn't stay upright. The edges of his vision went dark.

Ford wrapped an arm around Bill's shoulders and tugged him against his side. He held him up until Bill was too exhausted to cry anymore.

####

There was zipper noise, then a sound like shifting vinyl. Bill cracked his fingers apart to peer through them. Ford had unrolled the portable chessboard and was setting it up. "What?"

"It looks like we'll be here a while," Ford said, addressing his statement to the chessboard rather than to Bill. "It's... something else to focus on."

Bill wasn't sure what the emotion clawing its way through the grief-stricken haze in his mind was, but it felt very similar to relief. He nodded. "S—smart. I'm already—getting bored." His cheeks itched, his eyes burned, and his head was throbbing. As Ford set up the board, Bill closed his eyes and tried again to force himself to breathe more evenly. He was still dizzy from hyperventilating. Embarrassing—even a comatose human can breathe, and Bill couldn't even get that right. "Black?"

"I know."

Of course he knew. Bill always chose black. "First?"

"Fine." And Ford also knew, despite white traditionally getting the first move, Bill always moved first.

Bill waited in numb silence for Ford to finish setting up the board and sit on the other side. Moving almost automatically, Bill picked up a queen, hopped it over his line of pawns—

"Play it properly," Ford said irritably. "I put up with your cheating and lying for years, I'm not putting up with any more."

Bill gave Ford a look that he intended to be deeply offended, but immediately realized was probably just wet and pathetic. "Really? Now?"

Ford at least had the good sense to look a tad embarrassed, but he said, "I didn't set up the board to watch you move random pieces around like an untrained kindergartener."

"Three of my limbs don't work, Stanford."

"Are you suggesting your right arm doesn't remember the proper rules of chess?"

He wondered what Ford would say if he said yes. "I have a headache."

"You're probably dehydrated." Ford rummaged around in his backpack and offered over another bottle of water.

Bill reluctantly accepted it. He probably was dehydrated. "You owe me your life."

Ford fixed him with an unimpressed look. "You're trying to cash in a life debt... so you can cheat at chess?"

Bill opened his mouth; paused as he slowly thought that over; and dissolved into broken, hysterical giggles. "I don't know w-what I'm trying to do." He covered his mouth, squeezed his eyes shut, and tried to steady his breathing again.

Ford sighed. He waited until Bill had regained some control over himself; and then he said, "You can make up one new rule."

Bill considered the offer. "Total, or per game?"

"Per game."

Deep breath. "Fine. But I'm not telling you what it is. You have to guess it."

Ford considered it. "Three conditions."

"Mm?"

"One: you have to share what the rule was at the end of the game. If any of your illegal moves didn't conform to that rule, you automatically lose."

"Mm."

"Two: any rule you come up with has to apply to both sides of the board equally. Nothing that only advantages you or disadvantages me," Ford said. "Three: if I can figure out what your new rule is before the game's over, I can use it too. Obviously, you lose if I ask you about the rule and you lie."

Bill mulled over Ford's terms. His head was so foggy, he'd already forgotten the first one. "Deal."

"Deal."

####

Bill lost every game.

Badly.

He was clobbered. He was creamed. He was a faint red smear upon the pavement.

Back in Ford's dreams, Bill had won a good four-fifths of their games. Ford had heard during his travels that Bill was a mediocre player, but he didn't think he was so bad that all of those games had been won due to cheating. Even when he wasn't cheating, Bill had sometimes taken Ford by surprise.

But now, Bill was squinting at the board like he was struggling to see where the pieces were. Occasionally his fingers pinched down on thin air like he was trying to grab a non-existent piece. So Ford assumed the catastrophic losses were more a reflection of Bill's mental state than his skill level.

The option to make up rules didn't save Bill, but it at least made the games more interesting—and unlike the rest of Bill's abysmal playing, the new rules gave Ford a glimpse of the devious mind still buried somewhere in the traumatized human body.

The first round, Bill decided that the queen could leapfrog over pieces like a knight, and when Ford pointed out that would mean whoever had the first move could put the opposing king in checkmate in one move, Bill grudgingly amended the rule: the queen could leapfrog to an empty square, but could only take pieces in a straight line in the conventional manner. Ford had to maintain a phalanx of pieces jealously clinging to his king to guard against Bill teleporting his queen to the king's side. Bill managed to check him twice before Ford won.

One round, Bill decreed that rooks could only land on pieces the same color as they were sitting on, then smugly nestled his king on a white square next to Ford's rook on a black square; and then promptly lost the game when Ford pointed out both of Bill's rooks were currently on white squares, meaning he'd broken his own rule before he'd revealed it.

One round he decided that kings could move like queens, which Ford only discovered when he thought he'd checkmated him and then Bill zoomed his king across the board to take Ford's bishop; and then Bill lost a few moves later when Ford used his own king's newly revealed power to properly corner Bill.

One round Bill decided that once any back row piece was captured, it reincarnated in the body of the corresponding front row pawn. Ford genuinely liked the new rule—it meant you had to capture and checkmate both the king and the king's pawn before the game was over, and you had to be more cautious about what pieces you took since it could inadvertently set up a previously harmless enemy pawn to devastate your side of the board. But by the time Bill revealed that rule by jumping a pawn like a knight, Ford had already taken Bill's king's pawn and seen a way to checkmate him in two moves. It was a sore disappointment to end the game before getting to experiment with the new rule.

A few games were so short that Ford won without ever seeing Bill pull a nonstandard move. Round seven was one such game. Ford cornered Bill with a knight and a bishop. That had been the quickest match yet. Game over. "Checkmate."

"Checkmate," Bill said.

Ford paused, looking over the board, thinking moving his bishop must have given one of Bill's pieces line of sight to his king; but no, his king was perfectly safe. "What?"

"Checkmate."

"You can't mate me, I just mated you."

"I know. Checkmate."

Frowning, Ford said, "Explain."

"The extra rule this game is that both kings are wearing suicide vests." He tapped his king, "He's wired up with enough explosives to wipe out the whole board." There was a look of steely exhaustion on his face. He looked like the kind of desperate, hopeless man who would put on a suicide vest. "If I'm going down, you're coming with me."

Ford laughed so hard his stomach hurt.

It was petty revenge for losing seven games in a row. A frustrated child flipping the chessboard, but making a self-deprecating joke out of it: as long as we both know I'm going to lose anyway...

When Ford had recovered himself enough to look at Bill again, Bill was giving him a faint, grim smile that didn't quite make it to his one open eye. Still—he looked a little less miserable than he had for the past hour. Or the past couple days.

Ford said, "We'll call that one a stalemate."

"I'll take it."

####

After trying all morning and half the afternoon, Dipper had remembered part of what the Axolotl had told him. Just one phrase: sixty degrees that come in threes. He could hear the rhythm and rhyme of whatever the Axolotl said next, something something something -eez—it rhymed, he was sure of that—but the rest...?

It took Dipper over an hour and a half to get back to the campsite; he'd gotten lost in his thoughts, and consequently, gotten lost in the forest. He returned with a plastic bag of the kind of junk food they regularly saw Bill consuming in the shack, a few slices of gas station pizza, and a clear takeout container of nachos. Bill immediately went for the nachos.

While Bill was inspecting the circle-shaped tortilla chips with obvious disappointment, Dipper rummaged around in the plastic bag until he found a small jar of rainbow sprinkles and offered them to Bill. Bill took it without acknowledging Dipper, awkwardly untwisted the lid with one hand and ripped off the seal with his teeth, and liberally drowned his nachos.

"The gas station looks like an earthquake hit it," Dipper reported. "And most of the cars had popped tires. I guess they must've floated up and then crashed back down." He took a cheese pizza slice and offered the box to Ford. "Nobody I asked saw the Axolotl."

Ford glanced at Bill, expecting him to have some kind of comment on that; but Bill just grunted "Mm," focused on the chess game like he thought he'd be killed if he glanced away.

Dipper pointed out when Bill pulled an illegal move, Ford explained the new rules they were playing by, and Dipper settled down to watch. He tried to razz Bill the next time he lost; but Bill made such a pathetic figure that he couldn't even enjoy making fun of him and quickly gave up.

During the next game, Bill unexpectedly slid a pawn backward diagonally to take out Ford's queen. While Ford was silently fuming over the loss of his most powerful piece, Dipper hazarded, "Can pawns capture both forward and backward?" That would have been Ford's guess too.

But Bill simply said, "No."

Dipper mumbled, "Huh," lost focus on the game, and stared off into the distance, murmuring something under his breath. He kept getting lost in his thoughts today. Ford supposed nobody in this hiking party was in the best mental state.

Maybe pawns could move like bishops? But when Ford tried to slide one diagonally across the board, Bill said, "That's illegal," and Ford returned it to its original spot. There was some hidden condition he was missing. Maybe which color square the pawn was on? Or maybe it was like en passant, you could only capture an enemy piece backwards if that was the first time the enemy piece moved?

When the game was over—Ford won, but Bill had held out longer than usual—Ford asked, "All right, what was the new rule?"

"Pawns can capture forward and backward." While Ford and Dipper stared at him in mute outrage, Bill ignored them to casually shift his posture from kneeling—his knees had gotten sore—to lotus position, and said, "Next game?" as though he couldn't even be bothered to notice the humans' fury.

"But that's exactly what we said!" Ford snapped. "You lied to me!"

"No," Bill said, "I lied to the kid. I'm not playing against the kid. Why are you paying attention to what I tell him?"

Dipper demanded, "How is that fair? Anyone listening would think—"

But he fell silent when Ford laughed. "Of course," Ford said. "I should have expected that. Any loophole you can find. That's part of the game to you, isn't it."

Bill gave Ford an unsettlingly knowing look; and Ford supposed it was part of the game to him, too.

(Somewhere in the back of Bill's foggy mind, he kept count: three times. Before today, Bill wasn't sure he'd heard Ford laugh once this summer. What changed? What was Bill doing differently? Maybe Ford only liked him when he was completely broken.)

It took until halfway through the next game for Ford to realize Bill had moved his legs.

####

Over Ford's protests that they should wait until his strength was back, Bill insisted they get moving immediately. He'd rather be locked in the shack again than spend one more minute sitting by the lake.

"I hate being surrounded by trees. Why do humans like nature so much. This is miserable." Caked in mud, still wearing a towel like a skirt, teetering with exhaustion, Bill certainly looked like the most miserable camper to ever exist. "I cannot begin to tell you how sick I am of looking at pines."

Ford wondered whether the pun was intentional.

Bill's limbs were weak and uncoordinated. He could twitch his left fingers when asked, but his grip strength was nonexistent and the arm hung limply at his side when he wasn't actively trying to use it. His legs moved, but when he tried to get to his feet he collapsed back into the mud. But he thought he could probably stand with support. He ignored the hand Ford offered and crawled to the nearest tree to lean on as he got to his feet. Ford could see Bill's knees tremble.

"I don't need your help," Bill grumbled. "I can stand fine on my own."

Ford wouldn't argue with Bill's definition of fine. "But can you walk?"

"I could." He couldn't even make the lie convincing.

"Then be my guest."

"I'm saving my strength."

It would almost be funny if he wasn't being such an inconvenience. "Well, you're here and the boat is over there." Ford gestured. The shore was much further away than it had been yesterday. "If you can't walk, then you're either crawling or you're getting help. Which you'd prefer is between you and your dignity."

Bill's face reddened. "Don't talk to me about my dignity, like you've ever cared about my dignity..." He twisted around to inspect the tree behind him, tired gaze looking over the branches—maybe he was planning to break off a walking stick? He attempted to grab a thin branch that wouldn't serve as a walking stick for a toddler. He wasn't strong enough to break it off. He kept trying.

They were never getting to the boat. "Please let me help."

"Go jump in a lake. Again."

How did Ford handle this without prodding at Bill's bruised ego? "Consider it my thanks for—ah..." Ford cleared his throat. "For actually telling the truth about the eclipse. In spite of... what was no doubt immense temptation to lie like a cheap rug. Since we didn't believe you anyway." He had averted his gaze in embarrassment; he forced himself to face Bill like a man. Bill was actually looking at him again. "And for not chucking my gnephew's body off the cliff when you had the opportunity." The bar was so low it was on the ground, and yet it was still impressive that Bill hadn't found a way to dig under it. "And... for saving my life."

Bill set his jaw tight, as if he didn't like being reminded of his moment of decency; but he said, "Fine, get over here." He held out his good arm. "Help your hero and savior limp triumphantly off the field of battle."

When Ford offered his hand, Bill ignored it, and practically snarled when Ford tried to wrap it around his waist for support. Rather than putting his arm over Ford's shoulders, Bill seized a wad of fabric near the collar of Ford's t-shirt as a handhold to hang his weight from. Ford felt less like he was supporting Bill, and more like he'd just gotten in trouble and his father was marching him into the living room by his collar to give him a stern talking-to.

"First time you've ever thanked me for anything I've done for you," Bill muttered. Ford told himself he could drop Bill once they were on the boat.

Dipper was completely zoned out, waiting on the boat staring off in the direction the Axolotl had flown. He didn't react as Bill sat next to him, and Bill didn't acknowledge he existed. Ford started the motor, and they crossed the lake toward Tate & Backle's Bait & Tackle.

####

(You can't imagine how long I've been waiting to post this chapter. Hope you enjoyed, I'd love to hear what you think, and I hope those of y'all who have been waiting for Bill to cry like a baby are satisfied.)

#bill cipher #human bill cipher #grunkle ford #stanford pines #gravity falls #gravity falls fic #gravity falls fanart #fanart #my art #my writing #bill goldilocks cipher

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dana-chan-the-control-brain · 5 months ago

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I know it's a silly little YouTube show for fun. And not everything will have a satisfying conclusion. Its meant to run forever afterall.

But I am immeasurably disappointed by how this arc is going.

Sun. STOP TELLING MOON WHAT HE IS SUPPOSED TO BE.

This is EXACTLY THE REASON we are in this Mess now.

Moon admitted since he talked to the old self he's losing touch with reality. He doesn't even know if Sun that just talked to him or if it was another hallucination.

He wouldn't even know if the real Solar walked in front of him if he'd be real or not.

How is the COMPUTER more helpful at handling Moon then his own brother?

Moon even said if no one wants Solar back, he will stop. But he will still kill Ruin, who is an active threat to the family. Sun still said no.

Moon talking about disappearing.... Either he'll go to another dimension and take the place of another Moon. Or he'll straight up just kill himself once Solar comes back with open arms to a happy family.

Sun ordering physical torture until Moon falls unconscious if he ever tries star power to escape. (When he could easily turn him off.)

ALL FOR THINGS THAT MOON MIGHT DO???

Yes. He will likely do them. But Moon so far has just said hurtful things and be in a psychotic break.

Look, this is how I see it. New Moon woke up. He was born. And told by everyone his whole life who he was meant to be. He felt he was responsible for everything and everybody. No one corrected Moon on this role. Moon experiences Grief and heartbreak for the first time because Solar was the only one who saw him as him.

He is then disowned by his family during a state of psychosis.... Teaching him that he's cursed and will never be loved or accepted by anyone ..

CONFIRMING his fears that he has felt subconsciously for a long time about not being good enough....

Moon is the youngest that was born into a broken family that he constantly had to fix from the moment he woke up. Which is why he feels like this now. Did he say hurtful things... Yes. But Sun even not letting him give up on getting Solar back and killing Ruin anyway.... He's not allowed to do either. Whatever Actions Moon takes. He'll be hated and unloved.

Sun and Earth are worried Moon will do things that he will regret or can't take back.

They're being huge hypocrites.

Sun disowning Moon he can never take back.

Even if they eventually make up. (Unless it becomes the Sun and co show)

When Moon snaps out of his psychosis... Moon might not remember, but he will always know.

He will always know the feeling that he was abandoned and unloved and his siblings never loved or understood him. Only the image of what they wanted him to be.

That's just something that can't be taken back.

Moon is being treated like Eclipse.

And I desperately want the real Solar (not a hallucination) to be the one to stand by Moon.

Moon isn't worse then Solar's Moon.

And Solar tried to help his Moon for YEARS before he had to kill him as a last resort.

Solar was the only one to see New Moon as he was. Not a preconceived notion of what he could be and guide him out of bad thoughts Moons tend to spiral into.

Now, with how quickly Sun and Earth abandoned Moon. Makes me wonder if they ever saw or loved him at all. The same Moon that made Earth her body and the same Moon who comforted Sun after his Bloodmoon hallucinations.

Earth and Sun aren't responsible for fixing Moon. But what was it that Solar said??

"Well, the most you can do for family going through a rough time is just be there."

So yeah. I hate how this is going.

#tsams #personal #vent #gonna black out and write fanfic again

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ikamigami · 9 months ago

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ABUSE VICTIMS ARE NOT TREATED EQUALLY IN SAMS FANDOM AND IN THE SHOW

(even though I still think that it's intentional on showrunners part so it's not directed at showrunners that much)

I'm so tired of seeing takes of people who talks about how much Lunar and Eclipse's relationship is so complicated and at the same time say that everything is remotely okay with Sun and Moon's relationship.

Sun and Moon are the OG messed up relationship in the show. And yet I still see people who don't realize that. They act like Old Moon's abuse was nothing when at the same time they say that poor Lunar suffered so much from Eclipse. Don't get me wrong Lunar is a victim of abuse but so is Sun!

Sun thiks that he likes toxic people because of his relationship with Old Moon. He's afraid to speak up his mind because of Old Moon. He's scared of loud noises and darkness because of Old Moon. He's touch averssed because of Old Moon. He was afraid for a very long time to talk about his cats because of Old Moon. He doesn't believe in his own smarts because of Old Moon. He thinks that he's only good for cleaning because of Old Moon.

Even if now New Moon is willing to listen, Sun is too scared to say anything because he most definitely thinks that if he'll use the wrong word, Moon will magically start acting like Old Moon.

Sun is so afraid to take any action even if he'd like to because his last attempt to help ended with Old Moon dying.

Some people still brush off all these years of mental, emotional and physical abuse Old Moon inflicted on Sun. While they still hold over Eclipse's head the abuse his previous versions inflicted on Lunar.

Make it make sense!

We're bashing Eclipse for abusing Lunar because he's a villain but we don't care about Old Moon abusing Sun because he's one of the MCs!?

Yeah Old Moon wasn't a 100% evil monster. But yet he did so many amoral things and he was very abusive towards his own brother! But he regretted being like that and tried to be better.

We can say exactly the same thing about Eclipse. I hope that people who defend Old Moon's actions and abuse knows that.

I'm also tired that all of this abuse is just brushed off because "if they could communicate with each other better". How about no? Because don't you see that we can say the exact same thing about Lunar and Eclipse's relationship.

And whose fault do you think it is that there was a lack of communication between Sun and Old Moon?

If your answer isn't Old Moon then I don't know what to tell you.

And I'm so frustrated that people say that Sun is doing so much better when he still couldn't even processed his relationship with Old Moon and he was unable to grieve properly after Old Moon's death.

And I blame New Moon and Earth for this.

Sun needs help but he's continuously ignored by his own family and friends.

Lunar had it better than Sun because Monty arrived with help at the right time. No one did anything like that for Sun.

Sun was continuously blamed for bad things in his relationship with Old Moon by both fans and characters in the show.

Sun still very much suffers consequences of Old Moon's abuse and yet people don't care about it. Because it's not Lunar. The bean who suffered the most.

Screw the people who continuously play trauma olympics and gush over Lunar because he's so traumatised but at the same time ignore Sun's trauma.

#sun and moon show #sams #sams sun #sun and moon show sun #sun and moon show moon #sams moon #sams eclipse #laes #laes lunar #laes earth #tw abuse

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xxelleswrittingxx · 2 years ago

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A Curious Predator

Warnings: non-con smut, somnophilia, NeytirixHuman!reader, AFAB!reader

Synopsis: Reader is lost in the Pandoran forest and Neytiri stalks her, but with this being her first time meeting a human and seeing that the reader is asleep, she grows curious about their anatomy.

AN: This is my first time writing a fic so critical feedback is appreciated, I'm thinking of writing a part 2 so let me know if you have any ideas!

Eclipse had started and the temperature was beginning to drop. Y/N found this to be a relief from the hot humidity that clung to their skin. Countless hours of searching for the route back to their comrades meant exhaustion and sticky clothes.

Doctor L/N was a scientist working on Pandora. This was the second time they had ventured out into the forest with other co-workers in hopes of samples and field experience, only this was the first time getting lost. The search for the next undiscovered fungi lead them astray, in their own world of passion for work.

The unfaithful com-call screwed them over, a limited range would only get you so far in the vast forests of Pandora. After realisation of having to stick out the night, Y/N decided to set up camp. A groove between the roots of a large tree would do, but the shelter only helped a bit to ease the fear of Pandoran predators that would be lurking. That, and the knife strapped to their shorts.

The stress of the last few hours was setting in and Y/N couldn't hold back the sleep that drooped their eyes. Neon vegetation and the soft chirping of nightlife soothed them to sleep.

Neytiri felt wide awake though.

The excitement of hunting down new prey never seemed to grow predictable. She noticed your blundering over fallen branches a while ago and knew of her duty to put a stop to you wandering close to home tree. So she followed from above.

That's why the smirk crept onto her lips when she saw you falling asleep. This was easier than she could have predicted. Not that she expected much difficulty, with you being a sky person she knew of the advantages she had over you. Not only her physical capabilities but her knowledge and experience of hunting in the forest. She almost pitied you. So small and dumb, unable to prevent yourself from giving in to sleep, leaving yourself vulnerable.

She decided to get a closer look. The view she's had of you from up in the trees allowed for her to go unnoticed, but now with you unconscious she needn't worry. Curiosity seems to have gotten the best of her. She drops down to the next branch. A soft purple glow illuminates your silhouette. You seem so different from the Navi, more curves and less skin to see with the heavy looking garments you wear.

She wants a closer look. Thoughts seem to be rushing through her mind. How she shouldn't get closer, but what's the harm if nobody knows?

And so she crawls down a few more branches. Now laying across the one that hangs directly above you. Neytiri's yellow eyes graze across you harsher. She's never been this close to a human before.

She takes in all the new details. Soft skin without markings, a tank top and shorts that cover so much, heavy boots, and a tube that sits below your nose and behind your ears. Her gaze follows it down your neck, chest, and waist to where it connects to the Exo pack clipped to your waistband. Above it is a sliver of skin that peaks out between your clothes. She feels an urge to touch it, and this bothers her. She feels guilty about wanting to get this close to the human. Again her curiosity gets the best of her.

Neytiri slips around the thick branch until she can hang above you by her hands. She drops down onto the ground you lay on. With her large feet on either side of your waist, the only evidence of her disturbance is the purple moss that glows beneath her weight.

Her head tilts at the sight of you, not even a twitch at the new presence. You have no clue about the danger you could be in. Neytiri considers that she could eliminate you here, now, and move on to go home. Let her parents know about her success in protecting the clan from a sky person.

But she can't bring herself to, not with your soft features that seem to draw her in. Before she realizes it she's knelt above you. Her blue digits graze down the bridge of your nose, so different from her. She tilts her head towards the side of yours to see your profile. Your nose bridge protrudes out... and she wants to keep looking. She wants to see what else is different.

She runs her finger over your lips next. So big compared to them. She can't fathom how much bigger she is. How she could overpower you so easily, and this sparks something inside of her. A deep tingling inside her stomach. Neytiri blames this on her heat that should be coming soon.

Neytiri ponders over your mouth, she lifts the corner of your top lip and looks at the tiny teeth you have. Blunt with small fangs. She smiles at the cuteness. But this time you twitch and stretch your head away from the invasive hands.

She waits for you to settle into your new position and moves on downwards. Your exposed neck is enticing and she leans close to take a whiff. The scent is exhilarating. It tingles in her nose to the back of her head and down her spine to the tip of her arched tail. She breathes in deeply again, but then she feels her mouth water...

Oh Eywa, how she feels the urge to taste your flesh.

Neytiri flinches away at these thoughts. She knows she should stop here but she can't. Instead, she moves lower. One of your arms is across your waist, the other is up by your head. Your chest is left exposed and the cool air is evaporating the sweat off your skin.

Peaked nipples catch the Navi's attention. She runs her finger around the bud and a soft intake of breath makes her ears twitch. She flinches away again, but this time in fear that you've woken up. Neytiri knew she should have stopped, stupid!

Your exhaustion was greater than expected, you were still deep under. Neytiri has another intake of scent and is drawn in once again. Blue digits are back on the peaks straining against cotton. Gentle circles are drawn around it. Your steady breath starts to grow heavier at the new stimulation and Neytiri picks up on this. Does the tiny human enjoy this? Her lips part at this and the digits move onto the second breast. A little rougher results in soft twitches.

The Navi picks up on the shift in scent, a little bit muskier, almost spicy. She rolls the bud between callused digits and ears perk at the soft mewl it receives. Her lips part into a soft gasp and the smirk makes its way back again.

How could you enjoy this so much? She doesn't understand, can touching your breasts feel that good? So with one hand on your small body, the other goes to touch her own. Eyes trained on your expression she feels herself start to reflect it.

Heavy breathing. Twitches. Soft mewls.

She wants to see more. Big hands grasp your shirt and slowly draw it up to your neck. Neytiri scootches down your body so she can lean towards your chest. Her hot breath precedes her wet tongue that slips over your pebbled nipple, big eyes stare up to take in your reaction. The breast against Neytiri's mouth pushes up as your chest expands with a quick gasp of air. She likes the reaction so she continues the motion of licking over you, switching from left to right and back again. Trying to pull more from you.

Each sound sends jolts through her body. She feels the need to rub her thighs together but can't with you between them. This must be her heat starting.

Looking further down your body, Neytiri sets her sight on your shorts. Her head tilts as she wonders if there is also different or the same. And so she gets to work with the task of undoing the tiny button and zipper, she's never worked these before and struggles with her lack of knowledge and large hands.

Finally, the button is undone, but she fears she may have jostled you too much. You stretch in your sleep again, but the Navi isn't as worried as before, she suspects that you must be dehydrated or have heat stroke from how deep of a slumber you seem to be under.

CLICK CLICK CLICK

The teeth of your zipper come undone one by one and Neytiris perked ears take in each sound.

She thinks of pulling down your shorts but instead decides to slip her fingers in. She really doesn't know what to do if you wake up in the middle of this, but she trusts her instincts.

Her fingers brush past a soft patch of hair and into a pool of wetness. Her jaw drops and she truly understands your reaction to her touch. With a shift of her hips, she realizes that she's just as bad as you.

Her fingers continue their exploration and she feels the bundle of nerves at the crest of your folds. She smirks as she recognizes the similar anatomy and decides to circle it, a touch she has experienced herself when she is in the midst of her heat.

Heavier mewls escape your lips and Neytiri is trained on the way your brows furrow. Soft rubbing turns harder and your hips twitch. Cobalt nostrils twitch to take in the heavy musk that is filling the air, she recognizes her own scent mixing with your own and it satisfies a feral part inside of her. Fingers dip further down and she feels your tiny opening with her fingers, could you take them, she wonders? Maybe one...her palm rubs your clit and she circles her middle finger around your opening. Hips buck up into her and she slips the tip in.

You're so tight that she worries she will rip you, but from your expression she reads that all you feel is pleasure, and so she continues on. Slick noises come from inside your shorts and Neytiri feels her clit throb. Eywa, she watches your face and wishes that she could have those pretty eyes on her. Wishes to know what colour they are. Wishes to hear you beg.

She works soft but steady and feels you tighten on her. You're close. Head turned into the glowing moss and breathing heaving, the peak is right there.

Just as you're about to come, Neytiri leans in close to rub her nose and cheek all over you. Your body tenses and soft moans fall from your lips. The Pandoran feels satisfied with the reaction to her touch and how your scent is now mixed with hers. She slips her fingers out of your shorts and into her mouth. Ears flicked back and tail swishing she savours the taste of you.

She does your shorts up and allows your breathing to return to normal. Satisfied for now she climbs back up the tree to continue watching you.

The curiosity that got her into this whole situation is not satisfied, if anything it has grown stronger. Neytiri wants to know what colour your eyes are. What you sound like when you beg. She knows she will figure this out eventually. But for now she will watch until you wake up.

#avatar #neytiri #atwow #neytiri x reader #neytiri smut #tw noncon #tw somnophilia #avatar smut #wlw smut

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musingmeaninglessly · 2 years ago

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'You And I' - Neteyam/Lo'ak x Human! Reader

Lil angsty, but plenty of fluff too. Fem reader. No names mentioned, so you can imagine you and either of the brothers. Based on 'You And I' by PVRIS. Enjoy 💜

⭐️

"Y/N? Is that you, my love?"

Stood at the mouth of the isolated cave you'd found, you turn in a heartbeat. After finding the spot, far away from the centre of Awa'atlu, you'd asked him to meet him here.

His amber eyes glimmer with promise, burning into yours against the violet-tinged night sky. His expression morphs from delight to dubiety when he gazes down at your face.

"My Y/N, what is it?"

As he cups your exopack-covered face, you're reminded once more why you've bought him here. Why you need to talk about your relationship, about how unrealistic it's become.

It all began after hearing Aonung and his cronies discussing the two of you. You've grown used to most of the Metkayina kids calling you a freak, but their verbal jabs at your relationship stung more than any physical wound could.

And that's when you saw it all. The complications, the disapproving stares, and not-so-thinly-veiled judgements. He deserved better, better than what you could offer.

"...We...we need to talk..."

It comes out quieter than you anticipate, the lump in your throat silencing you. His face, in turn, falters, eyes flickering all over your face for a sign that he's misunderstood.

"About what, ma yawne?"

"About...us...about me..."

A gentle tilt of his head prompts you to continue.

"I can't be what they want, I can't be what you need..."

The revelation hardens his gaze, and he knows well enough that this thought isn't entirely your own. That there's outside corroboration at play here. After a moment of contemplation, he softly speaks into the small space between you.

"Y/N...you feel safe with me, yes?"

"Yes..."

"You enjoy spending time with me?"

"Of course!"

"And...you know I love you? And that I see you?"

That last one gets you, and all you can manage is a soft nod. As your lips purse and your eyes screw shut, he bundles you against him, the top of your head only just reaching the bottom of his ribcage.

"My love...please don't cry..."

You can't quite fulfil that request, but you do crane your neck to look up at him through your fogged-up exopack as you pour out your heart.

"I want to be with you for the rest of my life. No one, on Earth or Pandora, has ever made me feel like you do..."

Bringing one large blue hand to cup the back of your head, his own eyes begin to brim with tears.

"So why throw all of this away, yawntutsyìp?"

You lean into his touch as if it might be the last time you ever experience it.

"Because I don't want to weigh you down. With a Na'vi woman, you could go on all the fun adventures I hold you back from. Experience Tsaheylu, start a family..."

Tears trickled down your face as you finally succumbed to your sobs, throwing your face back against his torso, his blue skin drowning out the world. He tenderly laces his fingers through your hair, trying to keep his own cries at bay. For you.

"But, my Y/N, don't you see?"

"See what?"

You peer back up at him inquisitively, and even in his melancholic mood, your cute expression makes him chuckle.

"My love, you forget that I could never find so many things with anyone other than you. You teach me about your world and I let you into mine. You have an empathy and kindness that no Na'vi has ever shown me outside of my own family. And, if it weren't obvious, you're the most beautiful being I've laid my eyes on...ever."

You sniffle in disbelief, but know better than to challenge him on that one right now.

"I love protecting your little human self," he chuckles lightly, "and sneaking back to the lab after eclipse just so I can feel your lips against mine. I love our differences, no matter what anyone else thinks. We can keep our love alive...if you trust in it."

And that's all it takes for you to see how right he's been all along. A love like yours can't be replicated, and riding the waves of others' opinions is more than worth it.

At that realisation, your gaze returns to his. Kneeling down so that he's at your eye level, he presses his forehead against the glass of your mask.

"You shine brighter than the star you call home, my love. Remember that..."

You nod, too choked up to say anything except a soft,

"I see you...and I love you..."

A smile dances on his lips as he returns the sentiment;

"Nga yawne lu oer, my little love..."

⭐️

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athanasius-symposium-of-writings · 4 months ago

Note

Hiya, I come back with a request that is quite predictable since my last one 😅

If it’s ok by you, concerning the smut one-liners, could I request Morningstar Ithaqua with the combination of “your body was made for mine.” and “you’re mine, and I take care of what belongs to me.”? >///< 👉👈 I loved how you wrote possessive Helel, even in the Valentine one with Ithaqua! :)

Please let me know if me being specific is a problem ;;

thnk elden ring for having me look up wht is the difference between a consort and a concubine lol

Rated: Explicit | warnings: none

The royal bedchamber is often occupied by one person, the Sun King; a separate bedchamber was created for the consort of the Sun King. The Sun King took no equals to his throne, only a consort and concubines. Plenty of these partners range from political moves to gifts and others on a whim. You, however, were taken as an insult to his exiled brother.

To steal the few precious things from the twin Sun King.

But that is the past, the present has you now in the royal bedchamber sharing both the bed, the night, and bodies with the new king. The Morningstar King, the divine eclipse, the monster and savior. Here on his bed, you lay out of breath and naked with your chest and neck covered in dark marks and bite wounds.

“Your body was made for mine.” Spoken as he enters you slowly, he loves the sensation of your velveteen walls, the way your flesh is always satisfying. “(Name),” Grinning as you are writhing beneath him, hand gripping and tugging the sheets, legs locking him in place as you do not want to part from him.

Perhaps you love him? You are not sure of even long ago when you were intended for Helel, not Nebuchadnezzar. The Sun King had made it clear the first night he entered your chambers why he wanted you, it was like a declaration of a spiteful child who did not receive the toy he wanted while his twin got the toy. You were part of his revenge, his human faults exposed in his selfishness and greed, though he did not touch you that night; he had you on your knees to satisfy him however.

When the Morningstar, King of the Eclipse and General of the Rebellion, found you among the concubines. Shaking in fear when it was told by his Second In Command that the Sun King had fallen. The others could leave or stay, Morningstar has no use of them save for the consort of the Sun. The concubines returned to their homes with pockets full and gifts, you were taken to where you are now.

“Stop thinking.” Pouting as though your body responds to him, your eyes drift to the side, “My moon,” You look back to him before wrapping your hands around him, “Mine to gaze upon in all your resplendent,” Kissing you as he stops his thrusts to enjoy your attention with tearful eyes and lips trying to convey how grateful he has returned.

Nebuchadnezzar did not love you, he used you when thought of his brother and the betrayal (supposed betrayal). Never did he physically harm you but mentally he stabbed and twisted his knife into your heart and mind. You were being a shell of what Helel loved in order to protect yourself.

It is a few minutes he gives you before switching the position to have you on his lap as he sits on the bed holding you steady. Though he is not completely as deep as he wants inside of you, this is for you. For his beloved moon who was blocked by the sun, now on full display as you look down as you bounce upon his cock.

“You’re mine,” Helel reminds you and declares, “And I take care of what belongs to me.” Out of breath, in awe of you, you who can give him everything with a simple smile on the face he hated seeing among the concubines.

His twin will pay later, he will make sure of that, for now, he is in paradise.

#idv #identity v x reader #reader insert #idv x reader #identity v #identity v x you #idv x you #asks #idv ithaqua #identity v ithaqua #night watch x reader #night watch idv #ithaqua x you #ithaqua x reader #ithaqua identity v #ithaqua idv

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randxmthxughts · 2 years ago

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Unrequited - Chapter 4 - Tsu'tey x Omatikaya!Reader

chapter 2 | chapter 3

wc: 4k

contains: one-sided love, angst, birth giving scene

a/n: you see how i'm spoiling you and posting two chapters within the same week? i'd like some appreciation for that 👀 also, i have to state that in no way i am encouraging or implying slutshaming in this chapter. i don't think it is even a thing on pandora. the reason why some dialogues with mo'at can be seen as harsh is bc she is the tsahik and she believes it is wrong to connect physically without spiritual bond

unrequited masterlist | general masterlist

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

“I was beginning to think you finally changed your mind about me,” Tsu’tey said playfully, his eyes sparkling with mischief as he saw you.

Your cheeks were flushed from the rushed walk you took to catch him before he left. It was already an hour past the eclipse, and if it weren't for your recent busy evenings, he would have left long ago.

“Now stop trying to pin the things you would do on me,” you rolled your eyes at him, leaning against the entrance.

You were struggling to hide a smile from forming on your lips, relieved that he was still there. Tsu’tey sat on the ground with his back propped against the wall, a small knife in his hand, which he had been using to entertain himself with. The arrows he had sharpened during his waiting were arrayed next to him as a big sign of his boredom.

It wasn’t that Tsu’tey did not have a lot on his mind. The responsibilities of the Olo’eyktan have been taking up his whole days; from the moment the sun rose, he was consumed by the matters that demanded his attention. But when the nights stood still and your bodies were wrapped around each other, he could temporarily forget the weight of his obligations. The warmth of your skin and the softness of your touch have been keeping him distracted, distanced from the things he cared about in the daylight. And the attachment that he started to form to you was like a sudden gust of wind that swept him away, making him long for you more often that he’d like to admit. It scared him.

“You seem drained,” he commented.

“The lessons were harder this week,” you sighed.

“Ah, I see… I thought you were talented,” his tone was serious, but you could tell that he was only teasing you. Giving you a hard time for making him wait.

“I am,” you huffed, feeling defensive, “Tsahik thinks that I have a knack for herbals, so she wants me to focus more on the technique… That is where I lack the skill.”

Tsu’tey nodded, listening intently. Recently, the reason why lessons had been draining you was precisely why you and Tsu’tey began spending some time talking about your lives, before pursuing the desires of your bodies. It was strangely comforting to share some of you with Tsu’tey, who had previously known nothing about you. It made him feel cruel sometimes that he was only now getting to know you and discovering your personality, yet he dreaded the feeling of investing in a relationship that wasn’t supposed to last.

But the ending seemed near when rumors began circulating about you two. It all started out when one of the warriors saw Tsu’tey exiting the training hut early in the morning, and later found your anklet inside. At first, the incident was brushed off as a young trainee's fling, but when Fya’at unintentionally made a comment about your scent during a gathering, the gossip started to spread like a fire. Your attempts to pass it off like a joke were clearly a failure, considering the suspicious gazes following you everywhere, making you feel like a prey in the jungle.

But the final drop was dramatically worse, when during a communal dinner, a woman named Tse'a'ha suddenly burst into tears. All attention then was turned to her, as she threw a harsh look at Tsu’tey and stomped off. Tsu’tey gulped down and ordered everyone to return to their food, clearly admitting that he had some knowledge of what had happened. The next morning, you found out that Tse’a’ha had brought Tsu’tey gifts in an attempt to court him, but he had turned her down with the words that his heart was already taken. You knew right away that he was referring to Silwanin but the venomous tongues twisted Tsu’tey’s words into gossip, making him out to be a chief who was hiding his mate.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

Tsu’tey stood with his arms crossed over his chest, intently surveying the training warriors in front of him. The clattering of weapons echoed through the air as the Olo'eyktan scrutinized their every movement with a critical eye.

“Tsu’tey, may I speak to you in private?” Takuk’s voice distracted him with a note of urgency.

“Sure,” Tsu’tey nodded, turning his gaze towards his warrior, “I’m headed back to the Home Tree, walk with me?”

Takuk hummed in agreement, falling behind the chief. They walked away from the training camp, and once they were out of earshot, Tsu’tey slowed his step, indicating that he was ready to listen. Despite his usual easy going nature, Takuk seemed to be nervous. He cleared his throat, earning a curious look from Tsu’tey.

“What is it?”

“I wanted to talk to you about Y/N,” Takuk started out slowly, as if testing the waters.

“What about her?” Tsu’tey tensed up involuntarily, already sensing the direction in which the conversation was headed.

“Well… I was wondering if the rumors about you courting her are true? I do not wish to cross the Olo’eyktan.”

Takuk’s words seemed to hang in the air, the tension between them palpable. Tsu’tey couldn’t help but feel irritated that the man wasn’t scared of him, approaching him head-on. But there was really no reason to be mad at him, Takuk had the right to check.

“I am not courting her,” Tsu’tey finally answered after a long pause.

“So, if you are not courting her, then, can I?” Takuk's lips curled into a small smile, “Of course, only if there is nothing between you -”

“Y/N is a free woman,” Tsu’tey cut him off, “If you wish to court her, that is up to her.”

“Right,” Takuk nodded in gratitude, “I had a feeling it was only gossip. Thank you.”

Takuk bowed deeply before excusing himself, leaving Tsu’tey lost in his own thoughts. He realized that he had no right to claim you as his own, as he was the one to set the rules from the start. If you showed interest in someone else, he would have to step away with respect and let you live your life free of any complications.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

Your eyes burned with tears as you watched Saronyu struggle through her labor, surrounded by a few of you. Her mate held her tightly against his chest as she fought for breath under the stern instructions of Tsahik. You and Neytiri sat on the opposite sides, holding Saronyu's hands as she pushed through the pain. Her swollen belly heaved, with each breath, exhaustion and agony etched on her face. Your own muscles ached in sympathy, imagining the incredible pain she was experiencing.

“You’re doing great, Saronyu,” you wiped her forehead with a damp cloth, “Just a little bit more.”

She nodded her head, her eyes locked onto Tsahik, seated between her legs. Under Mo’at’s commanding voice, she took a deep breath to prepare herself before pushing. You felt her grip tighten around you with a grunt, and then you heard it, when the infant took its first breath with a loud cry.

Mo'at worked quickly, checking the baby's vitals and cleaning it before placing it into Saronyu's outstretched arms. The room filled with compliments and words of congratulations as the new parents gazed down at their child with giddy smiles. You couldn’t help but smile yourself, the miracle of life never ceasing to amaze you. This was the first birth after the battle with the sky people, and it seemed to symbolize something greater for the clan. Saronyu’s firstborn was a reminder for hope and resilience. Life on Pandora would continue no matter the hardships.

Neytiri was the first to leave the hut, while you stayed behind to help Mo’at with cleaning up. She left the flap open, revealing a small window into what was happening inside. A group of Na’vi lingered outside the hut and cheered in excitement and pride, when Neytiri revealed the newborn’s name. Basking in the joyous atmosphere, Jake pulled his mate into a tight embrace. She smiled at him, as he complimented her assistance.

Tsu’tey stood a little behind them, his eyes locking on your frame inside the hut. He felt a sense of warmth spread through his chest at the way you cradled the baby so gently. You were cooing at it with a small smile, occasionally lifting your gaze to Saronyu and her mate who were beaming at their newfound bundle of joy. As the Olo'eyktan, Tsu’tey felt obligated to be present in a monumental moment like this. He had seen birthgivings before but this one, due to its timing, felt special. A small smile played at the corner of his lips, which did not escape Neytiri’s curious eye. She tugged at his arm playfully.

“Y/N is good with babies, no?” she asked, capturing his attention.

Tsu’tey only hummed in agreement, knowing that she was probably getting at something, but he was too distracted to think about it . Jake’s eyes flickered between his mate and Tsu’tey with a clear skepticism. He was convinced that Mo’at’s theory was baseless: the only time he ever saw you and Tsu’tey interact was when he yelled at you in the healing hut. But Neytiri had grown up with both of you, she could sense that the dynamic had shifted. She just couldn’t figure out the reason for it.

“She can make an excellent Tsahik one day,” Neytiri pressed, “My mother wouldn’t choose just anyone to give lessons to.”

Tsu’tey knew it had been true. Mo’at had a strong judge of character, knowing immediately if she liked someone or not: it was rare to convince her otherwise. Tsahik picking someone for individual lessons was the highest praise any healer, besides the tsakarem, could get. You were talented, and Mo’at recognized that.

But Tsu’tey also felt attacked by her choice. It was clear to him that Mo’at had been growing impatient with him and was threatening to choose a tsakarem on her own. Her strong personality didn’t go well with Tsu’tey’s, so she was pushing him into either accepting her choice of future Tsahik, or finding himself a new mate. Despite this knowledge, Tsu’tey decided against revealing it to you when you first told him about taking lessons. You seemed so happy to be given such an opportunity, and he did not wish to minimize your efforts to the mere wish of Mo’at trying to set you up with the chief.

“Neytiri,” Jake pulled her back into him gently, “Leave him alone.”

“No,” she shook her head, like a child, “I am right about this, you will see.”

Jake sighed with a small smirk, watching Neytiri take Tsu’tey by his wrist and lead him away. Tsu’tey was confused but he trailed after her regardless. When she reached a more private setting, she crouched down and encouraged Tsu’tey to do the same.

“I know that lately my mother has been pushing you to find a mate,” she gave him a knowing look.

“She is too stubborn,” Tsu’tey let out a defeated chuckle. It was beginning to feel like a big joke that was being played on him, “She won’t hear my refusal.” “What is the reason for your refusal?” Neytiri asked softly.

Tsu’tey took a long pause, carefully considering his answer. If there was anyone he could confide in, it would be Neytiri. After all, she understood the toll that Silwanin’s death had taken on him.

“I can’t force myself again,” he answered with a shake of his head, “Eywa knows… I’ve tried very hard. You know it too - we did our best.”

Tsu’tey gestured between the two of them, earning her understanding nod. Neytiri recalled the time when they were first forced into a bond. Back then, she had tried her hardest to feel something more for Tsu’tey. But she could only see him as a brother, and so did he. His heart never stopped belonging to Silwanin, so all they could do was put on a facade to respect the clan. Much to Neytiri’s liking, that quickly crumbled when Jake appeared in her life.

“Tsu’tey, you will always love Silwanin. No one can take that away from you,” she reached out to point to his chest, “She will always be in your heart. Just like she is in mine,” Neytiri then pointed to her own chest, “But life must go on. Dwelling on the past will not leave space for hope.”

“Hope for what? All I got from hoping was loss and disappointment,” Tsu’tey threw harshly.

“If I have learned anything from loss is that there is always a new beginning,” Neytiri’s gaze softened, as she thought back to Jake.

“Not all of us are destined for new beginnings.”

“I understand your pain, Tsu'tey, but you cannot keep your heart closed off forever,” Neytiri placed a comforting hand on his shoulder, “I am sure that Eywa has something planned for you, but you refuse to accept it…Silwanin would have wanted you to be happy.”

Tsu’tey covered her hand with his, letting the words sink in. Deep down, he knew there was some truth to what she was saying, but he couldn't bring himself to admit it. It was too risky to get his hopes high up again.

“Tell me what is bothering you,” she asked gently, receiving nothing but silence in return, “A secret for a secret?”

Tsu’tey couldn’t help but smirk at the phrase; it reminded him of the way they used to negotiate as kids. A secret for a secret. What could Neytiri possibly tell him to make him reveal his attachment to you? He felt like she was bluffing, but Neytiri proceeded without getting his approval.

“I am pregnant,” her voice rang softly in his ears.

His eyes widened, as he gazed down at her stomach. There was no visible bump yet, it was far too soon for her to be showing, but the way she cradled her middle was enough to make his heart race.

“Is it true?” he asked.

“You are one of the first to know,” Neytiri nodded with a smile, “It is still early, but the baby grows stronger with each passing day. My mother wanted me to be present during Saronyu’s labor to be prepared for my own.”

“Does Jake Sully know?” Tsu’tey asked tentatively.

“I will tell him tonight.”

Tsu’tey felt a surge of joy overwhelm him as he pulled her into his arms for a warm embrace. Despite their occasional disagreements, Neytiri was like a sister to him, the only family he had left. The fact that she confided in him about her pregnancy before Jake made Tsu’tey feel incredibly touched.

“May Eywa bless your child,” Tsu’tey murmured, his hand rubbing her back.

When they pulled apart, there was a twinkle in her eyes. Tsu’tey couldn't help but smile at how happy she seemed. He watched her lose so much in her life, this was the new beginning she deserved. He wondered if he deserved a chance at happiness too.

“Now it is your turn,” Neytiri said. Tsu’tey took a deep breath, mentally preparing himself for the conversation ahead.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

“Wrong,” Mo’at announced with a harsh tone, watching intently as you worked on making a paste.

You winced, applying more force to the pestle but it didn’t make much difference. Her eyes pierced through you with judgment, yet you couldn’t figure out what exactly you were doing wrong.

“The force must come from the shoulders, not the whole body,” she spoke up, her voice stern, as if she had just read your mind.

You felt a pang of embarrassment, as you tried again, this time using your shoulders only to apply the necessary pressure. Mo'at remained silent, seeming more satisfied with your correction. She rarely admitted to you doing something right, but when you slipped up, she would make you stay late and work, until you mastered the technique. It seemed like this lesson was going to stretch out into a longer one too.

“I apologize for my interruption,” a voice broke the quiet concentration of the lesson, catching both you and Mo’at by surprise.

Takuk stood awkwardly in the entrance, before bowing deeply in greeting. His eyes flickered playfully between you and Tsahik, until his gaze settled on Mo’at. She waited patiently for him to continue.

“I did not wish to disturb the lesson,” he said, “I just wanted to know when I can expect it to end?”

“Why do you need to know that?” Mo’at raised an eyebrow, her eyes sharp and questioning.

“I would like to invite Y/N for a stroll after she is done,” he admitted, throwing a quick glance at you.

You felt a blush creeping up your neck, caught off guard by his boldness. Mo’at looked back at you with slight confusion, urging you to answer.

“I am afraid I already have plans to tend to after my lesson, Takuk,” you answered apologetically.

“It is alright, we can go tomorrow. I just have something important to talk to you about.”

“Oh,” was all you could say, “Sure?”

“I will see you tomorrow then. I’m sorry again for the interruption,” Takuk said, bowing before taking his leave.

You could sense Mo’at’s disapproval radiating off of her, and you felt ashamed to have negotiated plans in front of her during the middle of the lesson. She clicked her tongue in irritation, gesturing at the pestle and mortar. You quickly resumed pounding the herbs, feeling her eyes on you.

“That boy wants to court you?”

“Oh, I am not sure,” you mumbled, “Maybe.”

“He must either be brave or stupid for going after a promised woman.”

You looked up at her in surprise, pausing in your movements before coming to a stop.

“I am not a promised woman,” you objected.

“Of course you are,” her voice was stern, “You have mated with the Olo'eyktan.”

“What? I am not -” you shook your head in bewilderment.

“Do you think I am stupid?” she tsked, gesturing at you, “I can smell him on you every time you come here. No amount of washing can cover that. Maybe once, but not this often.”

Your heart nearly leapt out of your chest at how accurately she had pinpointed it. Was there even any point in denying it? Mo’at could see right through you.

“You must warn that boy to stay away. He must not disrespect his Olo'eyktan, you and Tsu’tey are now mates,” she ordered.

“We are not mates, Tsahik,” embarrassed, you lowered your gaze.

“Of course, you are, You have performed a tsaheylu and mated before Eywa. You are bonded for life now,” she explained angrily, as if you were dense. Your shoulders slumped involuntarily.

“There was no blessing from Eywa. No tsaheylu,” you admitted quietly.

Mo’at stared at you in shock, her eyes widening in disbelief. With a deep sigh, she stood up and stormed out of the hut, leaving you alone in your thoughts. Deep in shame, you remained seated on the ground, your eyes still glued to the same spot. Tsahik must think very little of you now and will most likely forbid you from ever visiting her again. You were suddenly jolted back to reality by the sound of heavy footsteps approaching the hut. You quickly scrambled to your feet, when you saw Mo’at enter with Tsu’tey.

She gestured for him to stand next to you, and he complied, a knowing expression already plastered on his face as he threw you a quick glance. Mo'at looked angrier than you had ever seen her before, her eyes boring into yours with an intensity that made you shrink back in fear.

“What is this that I am hearing?” she demanded loudly, "You have committed a great disrespect to Eywa."

You lowered your ears, feeling the blood rush to your face in embarrassment. Involuntarily, Tsu’tey lowered his ears too. Despite his newfound confidence as the chief, he still felt ashamed in front of Mo’at. He had always considered her to be like a second mother to him. Mo’at spoke again, her voice dripping with disapproval.

“You insulted and ignored the laws of Eywa. You continued to fool around with no bond, no tsaheylu,” she pressed her hand to her forehead, sensing a headache approaching, “How long has this been going on?”

“Since the last moon,” Tsu’tey answered. Tsahik’s face twisted with a mixture of disappointment and disgust. She had never expected Tsu'tey, a man so proper and dedicated to his duty, to behave like a selfish, reckless child.

“Stupid,” she spat, gesturing between the two of you, “If you want to remain respected clan members, you must fix this… Either you begin to court this girl properly and make a bond with the blessing of Eywa, or you leave her alone to find herself a mate.”

“But Tsahik -” you opened your mouth to protest, but Mo'at hissed at you, cutting you off.

“I do not wish to hear anything else. Do not show your faces to me unless you fix this.”

She dismissed you with a wave of your hand, as you and Tsu’tey rushed to step out of the hut. The darkness outside enveloped you, and you wondered where Mo’at had found Tsu’tey. You cursed him mentally for not being farther away.

“I’m sorry for telling her, she just…” you trailed off guiltily.

“I know, it’s not your fault,” Tsu’tey nodded in understanding.

He strode ahead, and you followed behind him in silence, waiting for him to speak. Things were going to change now, and you hoped that the bond that was forming between you and Tsu’tey would help, but his next words quickly shattered it.

“Tsahik is right. We can’t be together,” Tsu'tey said, his voice heavy with resignation, “I am being selfish.”

“What are you saying?” you scrunched up your face.

“From now on, we must stop seeing each other. I promise to respect your space, and there will be no reason to dwell on what has happened between us anymore. I want you to have the freedom to find a mate.”

“No! I don’t want a mate,” you protested, “I don’t want anyone, I only want you. You know that.”

“It is wrong,” Tsu’tey stepped away from you, “I am grateful for the time we spent together, but Tsahik is right. I have to dedicate myself to my duty and give you a chance to choose a proper mate.”

“This is nonsense,” you huffed, “I thought we had an agreement.”

“Yes,” Tsu’tey agreed, “Which I am following through with right now. I think Takuk and you can make an excellent match.”

“Takuk?” you asked, the hurt evident in your voice.

“He asked for my permission to court you this morning. You should give him a chance.”

You felt your heart shatter into pieces. He had been the one to push you towards someone else, making it clear that he didn't love you. You had clung to the hope that his feelings might change, but now it seemed like he had given up on you completely. Your throat tightened as tears threatened to spill from your eyes.

"You had no right to do that, to give permission on my behalf," you jabbed a finger into his chest, your voice filled with anger, "You are merciless."

“I am sorry, Y/N,” Tsu’tey let out a long sigh, catching your hand in his, “I will not forgive myself if I ruin your chance at happiness.”

His eyes bore into yours, expression softenting. For a fleeting moment it felt like he hated himself for letting you down. He squeezed your hand, bringing it to his chest.

“You have no idea how much I love you, do you?” you asked bitterly, pulling your hand out of his grasp, “I was stupid for thinking you could ever, ever feel the same way. And you warned me from the beginning.”

"It is not true, I -” Tsu’tey interrupted himself, shaking his head, “I care for you deeply but I cannot give you what you want.”

He caught your hand again but you yanked it away from his grip. The pain in your chest was suffocating you.

"Don't touch me," you hissed.

The tears that threatened to fall earlier were now streaming down your face, as you walked away, leaving Tsu’tey standing there alone. By the time you reached home, you couldn’t stop the sobs that wracked your body. You weren't sure if you could ever put your shattered heart back together because Tsu'tey now possessed every single piece of it.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

next chapter

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

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starcrossedxwriter · 8 months ago

Text

Wicked Fantasies Part 10 (MBJx Black OC)

A/N: sooooo this is just nonstop angst. Hence the gif selection and I am sorry lol we get into some tough shit. So warnings include: severe depression and negative self talk, harassment, etc. But as always enjoy! And remember… I’m a HEA girlie through and through ☺️

Hell on Earth was the only appropriate descriptor for the last 24 hours of Raven’s life. Trapped in her apartment due to the spectacle of paparazzi camped outside her building, her only activity was laying in bed unmoving hour after hour in the fetal position. She was grateful to Melody for taking her shift, she did not know if she would have been able to find the strength to get up to go anyway.

Raven tried her best to avoid social media but laying in her bed staring at the ceiling did not provide much distraction from the agony that coursed through her. This hurt eclipsed any pain from a physical wound that she had ever felt. It was paralyzing. And scrolling, even if she had to wade through stories and commentary on her own life as if she were a fictional character from the world’s latest Netflix obsession, offered some reprieve from thinking about him.

He consumed her every thought despite wanting nothing more than to rid her brain of him. But his claws were in too deep and even blocking his number had not offered relief when the only thing she wanted was to seek comfort from him. Her heart ached for him as if it would never be right again without his presence, his touch. But her brain would not allow her to call him or even unblock him. He was the curse, the disease… she certainly would find no cure in him.

The negative orator in her head called him a liar, reminded her that she did not deserve him and he knew it, which was why this all happened in the first place. So she stayed in her small ball in the corner of her bed fighting the urge to call him or break down into sobs again.

Her roommate checked on her every couple of hours and that was the sum of her human interaction since she left Michael’s house. She did not want to see or talk to anyone. So she didn’t. Her phone remained on DND, every call and text going unanswered. She knew she only had a few more days of this. The library had taken her off the schedule for a week, citing a need to figure out how to deal with the safety concerns this situation brought. But Raven knew the truth, the only available solution would be to let her go. Another job down the drain because of her terrible choices, because the only setting she seemed to know was self destruction.

That was all she knew how to do it… ruin her own life and the lives of everyone around her. She did not even speak to her family anymore and still knew, from her sister’s nonstop texts and calls that she didn’t respond to or answer, that even they were feeling the burn of her choices. Of course, Kiara was not wasting the opportunity to snag herself another 15 minutes of fame but she did not say anything worse than what Raven had already seen from strangers or did not already believe about herself.

Tears sprang to her eyes as thought about her own role in every bad turn and mistake her life had taken that led to this moment. She could blame Michael and her family but perhaps it was finally time to own that they were all right: it was her. She was the problem.

She chose to sell her body, even when she was in college as a dancer, to make a quick buck. She chose to do the same as an adult, she chose to enter into Michael’s ring of lies and she let him play as the fool. She could hate him but that meant she would also have to hate herself.

And acknowledging her hate for him was far less excruciating than examining how she brought this collapsing building right down on herself.

***

“What happened?”

“Damn, nigga. Can I get through the front door first or get a hello?”

Michael let out an impatient sigh and shifted out of the way so Alex could walk into his foyer. He had been a nervous wreck since she called an hour prior asking if she could swing by the house to talk. He had deleted social media from his phone so he did not have to see the vitriol being hurled at Raven. He did not care what people said about him but Alex literally had to stand over his shoulder and watch him delete every app to stop him from responding to every disgusting comment he read about her.

While his plan may have worked in popular media outlets and with sensible people online, he severely underestimated the contingent of very loud incels and pick-mes who would blame Raven regardless of how the story was presented to them.

“My bad. Hey. What happened?” he asked again, his tone signaling that he was not in the mood for Alex’s signature attitude. He needed answers and he needed them now. He would have time for pleasantries again and everything else when Raven forgave him. Or even just answered his phone calls and texts.

Michael gestured for Alex to follow him to the kitchen where he had been helping his mom and dad cook dinner. Or rather helping in between wearing a hole in his floor due to his incessant pacing and complaining about when Alex would arrive.

“I”m not gonna show you unless you calm the fuck down.” One side glance from his mother had Alex cringing at herself. “Sorry, Ms. Donna.”

The older woman merely nodded as she returned to her task of chopping vegetables.

“Well, I’ll start with the good news. I checked in on all your endorsements and deals and they said as long as this situation doesn’t evolve any further, they have no interest in dropping you. People still love you for some reason. And it’s been a week, so if old… partners were going to come out, they would’ve. All our Creed 3 press is still set but I had to do some rearranging now that the Oscars are set for the second weekend in March. So you’re going to Mexico City this weekend to get a head start. And we still have your interview slate for the Oscars set. You’re in for a busy six weeks… I know what’s going on with Raven is a lot but I need your head in the game, Mike. Seriously.”

“Alex! I don’t give a fuck about an interview schedule. What did you hear about Raven?”

“You know it’s literally my job to manage your career, not your continuously screwed up love life, right? Sometimes I worry you have it confused. But yes, I do have news on Raven too. Which is mostly… well all bad news. Most of the conversation has moved on. People are still attacking her on social but that’s not all that surprising. Vultures are still circling her apartment, not as many but a couple every day. Today was the first day she left the house in a week to go back to work. But… she got fired.”

Michael paused his pacing in shock. He knew how much that job, however she came to need it, meant to Raven. It had been a refuge during one of the most painful times in her life and his actions had stolen that from her.

“WHAT?”

Alex scoffed. “I told you our plan wouldn’t be without consequences, Mike. It just had the least amount of them. You can’t be surprised. She worked at a public library with kids and the entire world found out she was a prostitute. She was probably an at-will employee so they don’t even need a reason to fire her. But paparazzi surrounding her job every day and idiots calling to campaign to get her fired is more than enough for most places. But that’s not… that’s not the worst part.” Alex’s stiletto tipped nails tapped against her screen a few times before she tossed it down on the kitchen island. “A contact at TMZ sent me a video a couple hours ago. They aren’t gonna post it,” she assured him. “But there were plenty of cameras so someone else might. Just forwarded it to you.”

Michael moved quickly to open his email, his body equally wrestling between wanting to see whatever this was and being afraid to. But he knew he did not have a choice. He took a deep breath to steady himself as he pressed play on the video. The TMZ reporter had their camera trained on Raven as she tried to fight her way out of the back exit to her car in the parking lot. It was from earlier today, Michael realizing that she must have gone into her shift only to be let go. However, she was not simply fighting through a sea of flashing lights and insensitive questions. There was also a small group of men hurling insults at her as she fought through the crowd.

“I guess niggas really don’t be having jobs cause who has the time to post outside of someone else’s job to harass them?” Alex muttered to no one in particular as Michael’s attention and focus remained trained on the video.

The words of everyone else in the video were just static to him because his eyes and attention were squarely set on Raven. His soul felt as if it was splintering into millions of pieces as he watched her. Despite the meticulous makeup painted and her stoic poker face, Michael could still see the sorrow and exhaustion in her eyes. He had seen such a look in her eyes before and it hurt then, but now it was somehow worse. A fatal wound because this time, it was his fault. He would not need a video for that look to haunt him for the rest of his life.

He continued watching despite wanting nothing more than to get in his car and race to her apartment. The video was chaotic as the cameraman tried to keep up with the mob of cameras and people and keep the focus on the woman at the center of the storm. Michael did not understand what happened when Raven suddenly stopped moving, her poker face gone as one of pure terror took over.

Michael’s eyes frantically searched the frame of the video for what changed, even pausing it for a moment, until he noticed a hand wrapped tightly around her upper arm. He watched as she frantically pulled against the force of the person but their grip was too tight. And he could hear the whimper of pain in her words as she begged him to let her go.

The altercation did not last long when one of the cameramen was able to break the man’s grip on her and Raven scurried off to her car, her eyes brimming with tears.

Michael forced his phone to go to sleep as he squeezed it in his fist. Michael usually existed at an emotional equilibrium but his rage felt all consuming. Is this what seeing red felt like? When your anger was so blinding, you could not see or think of anything that did not fuel that fire? The entire internet had become Inspector gadget to find Raven’s job and address to harass her but would they do the same for that guy? Someone who tried to do her harm? Michael merely wanted five minutes alone with him to exercise all that rage at someone who deserved it.

He did not say a word as he marched past Alex and out of his kitchen to the foyer where he kept his car keys and wallet. He grabbed both and angrily stomped out to the garage, his thoughts set on nothing other than seeing Raven. Even if he was only able to lay his eyes on her for a moment, he needed to see her. In the flesh.

“Michael! Mike! Stop! Stop!!” Alex raced after him, quickly catching up with him despite her high heels. Her hand grabbed the door of his car before he could fully climb in. “Where are you going?”

“To Raven’s.”

Alex’s arm jerked the car door away from him as he tried to pull it closed. “You need to give her time. You’re probably not the nigga she wants to see at her door right now. And… there are still cameras around her house. You don’t need -”

“You think I give a fuck about someone seein’ me go there?? Get outta my fuckin’ way, Alex. Now.” His voice lost its usual kind tone as he glared at her, his barely contained rage seeping out into the garage around them like thick smoke.

Alex’s grip loosened but she did not acquiesce fully. “At least let me come with you.”

Their standoff continued for mere seconds before he caved and gave her a few moments to get into the passenger’s seat. If allowing her to go with him was the only way to see his girl then he would let her ride along. But she would not be able to stop him from doing a damn thing, he knew that much.

They did not speak as he raced through LA to get to Raven’s apartment. He did not wait for Alex to get out or say anything as he walked into her building and made a beeline for the elevator. Before he knew it, he was banging on her door like the police had shown up.

“Ok calm down, we don’t need the whole damn floor filming this for that damn clock app,” Alex grumbled, Michael essentially ignoring her as he continued banging until the door flung open.

Her roommate stood there, a confused look on her face for a moment, before she glanced over her shoulder in the direction of Raven’s closed door.

“I need to see her.”

“I don’t think she’s up for visitors,” the young woman responded, her tone leaving little room for arguments. She tried to close the door but Michael stuck his foot in the doorway and stopped her.

“She doesn’t have to talk to me but I need to see her. Let me in.” Michael knew he had no right to demand entry into someone else’s home but he was at a loss, his hands were tied.

“What he means to say,” Alex stepped forward, pulling Michael back slightly, “is that he just wants to see she is ok after today with his own eyes. And then we’ll leave, I promise. Two minutes, that’s all we want. Please?”

“I’m not gonna force her to see you. You can wait here while I ask.”

She left them at the doorway to show themselves inside as she went to knock on Raven’s door.

“Raven? Can you come out here?”

He heard shuffling from behind her closed door before it cracked open. He could not see her but he could hear her voice, small and broken. A sound he never wanted to hear again. He was supposed to be the solution to her pain, not the cause of it.

“I d-don’t want to see him.”

“I just need a minute, Rae!” Michael did not wait for the invitation as he walked up to her door and gestured for her roommate to move out of his way. “Just let me see you… please.”

Raven leaned her head against the door frame as she debated whether to comply. Something in her demanded that she slam the door in his face. But her first on her doorknob merely shook as if she could not force herself to do it, her limbs refusing to obey her brain’s orders. She did not want to see him.

Whatever bandage she was using to stop the bleeding of this wound was immediately ripped off and her hurt flowed once again like blood at his mere presence. She could not even look at him, or rather was afraid to. Afraid that if she looked into those eyes, she would believe whatever sad tale of love and care he brought to spin for her this time. She could not fall for that again. With him or anyone else. And yet, her body still wanted to run to him and jump into his arms, bury her nose into the nape of his neck and breathe in him. His signature cologne, his natural musk that had grown to represent a sanctuary for her.

She forced herself behind the ice walls she had spent a week building. She was too weak to survive without them. Those barriers and their harshness were the only thing that had dragged her out of bed to go to her shift, which lasted a total of an hour before she was fired. She was not surprised but preparation had not made it an easier experience. She had been proud of herself for holding it together, walking out with her head held high. That is, until the utter debacle outside the library.

Michael had always been the one who the barriers came down for. But now, his presence made them grow higher and higher as if to protect David from Goliath.

She stepped back and opened the door just enough for her face to be seen. She did not look at him though, keeping her eyes trained on the wall behind him.

“What? The paparazzi videos aren’t enough? Need to see your destruction in person? There, you’ve seen me. Now get out.”

Her voice was cold, colder than he ever knew her to be toward anyone much less him. It was being stabbed in the chest and having the knife twisted for effect. Made all the worse by the fact that she could not even look him in the eye.

“Rae… baby girl, please. I just want to make sure you are alright after today… between the library and that guy. Just want to make sure you aren’t hurt.”

A mere week ago, Raven would have melted like a childish lovesick school girl at “baby girl,” at his care and devotion to her. But today, her heart had to remain cold for her own preservation, safely tucked behind the ice walls she erected.

“Don’t call me that. You don’t get to call me that. And it’s not the first job I’ve lost, I’ll survive. Whether or not I’m hurt or employed shouldn’t matter to you. You made it clear you don’t care.”

“It does matter to me. You matter to me. Did he hurt you?”

“Bruises heal… This one will too. It’s the other wounds I’m not sure about,” she muttered, more to herself than him. “You want me to read you some of my DMs? Compared to what they all say they want to do to me, I got off easy with a bruise. So now you know. I don’t want to repeat myself again. Get. Out.”

“I’ll do anything, Rae. Just talk to me, hear me out. I didn’t mean for this o-or any of this to happen like this. Let me fix this. Or at least let me protect you.”

She shook her head, refusing to listen to a word he had to say. In one ear and out the other. It was all lies. “No. You can’t fix this. I don’t want your words, your lies, your apologies, or your protection. I don’t want anything from you ever again. You wanted me out of your life just like everyone else I know so you got your wish. Come back here again and I’ll call the police.”

And with that, she slammed her door in his face, leaving him standing awkwardly in the living room with Alex and her roommate. He simply stood there like a statue, mouth agape with his apologies on the tip of his tongue, staring at her closed door for a few moments.

“You heard her. You should go.”

With her roommate’s echo, Michael forced his legs to move. However, before he could get far, he stopped and grabbed a spare piece of paper and pen that was left discarded on their counter. He jotted down his number and pushed it into her hand.

“Tiffany, right?” At her nod, he continued. “I’ll give her space cause that’s what she wants. But anythin’ happens like today again, call me. Please.”

The young woman eyed him intently and stowed the paper away in her pocket before Michael walked out of the door with Alex in tow. As they stepped into the elevator of her building, Michael unleashed his pent-up frustration by punching a hole into the side of the elevator, an action that only caused a rippling pain to shoot up from his knuckles.

“Well that was decidedly stupid. You’re gonna have to get that looked at.” Alex shook her head. “She’s not ready yet, Mike. And for once, you’re not in control of how this goes. She needs time. Give it to her. But she’s ok today, that’s all that matters.”

Michael’s unbruised hand massaged his knuckles as they walked to his car. He sat in his seat silently for a few moments.

“You think she’s still in danger?”

“I think people on the internet often forget the people they’re attacking are real people. Most of this will stay online and be fine but we can’t predict the people who’ll do what that guy did today and take it to the real world. There’s just… no way of knowing.”

Michael sighed and nodded. “Get me a list of bodyguards. Vetted. She doesn’t want to see me, fine. But she’s gonna get protection whether she likes it or not.”

“You can’t force her to have a bodyguard.”

“You got me in Mexico City, Paris, London, New York, and Miami for the next month. You think I’m steppin’ on a damn plane with niggas tryin’ to attack her? Get me the fuckin’ list.”

“I know shit is fucked right now, Michael, but you can’t stop working just because your girlfriend is mad at you.”

“I don’t care about work right now, Alex!”

“Maybe you should! Maybe I shouldn’t be the only one holding your fucking career and reputation together while you spend all your energy making bad decision after fucking bad decision.”

Michael’s entire body whipped around to face the passenger seat, the anger he had pushed down beneath the surface already bubbling to the top. He was a powder keg and unfortunately, Alex was the spark.

“Oh so all of this is my fault?? Tasha fuckin-”

She threw her hands up in the air. “Stop blaming Tasha! She’s trash, she fuckin’ sucks and backed you into a corner but it’s not all on her, Mike! I’m not one of these fuckin’ yes men whose gonna shield you from accountability just to pad your fuckin’ giant actor ego. You fucked up, Michael. You. You could’ve ended it with Tasha as soon as you realized you were in love with Raven, but you didn’t. You strung her along because it was easier than admitting your feelings. You could’ve taken any of the millions of opportunities to admit what was going on to Raven like I told you and you didn’t. You wanted to play big man and stick it to Tasha instead of focusing on the person that actually mattered. And you didn’t want to admit that you were still talking to her. You didn’t leak this out of some purely noble intentions. This didn’t just happen to you. You caused this because as good of a guy as you are, you always do what is easiest for you instead of what is hard. So you and Tasha made this fucked up bed together. Own that shit and stop wallowing in it like a fucking bitch baby.”

His grip on the steering wheel was nearly painful as her harsh words sank in. And as difficult as they were to hear, as much as they clashed against the narrative he was clinging to, he knew they were not untrue. While it was far easier to lay the whole debacle at Tasha’s feet, he knew he was not blameless in what happened. But he had underestimated how torturous it would be to see the consequences of his own actions, how it would gnaw at him day in and day out. And the only way he was even surviving day to day was wrapping his brain tightly in the narrative that he did what was best. Without that protective blanket, he did not know if he could survive seeing the destruction he caused.

“Damn tell me how you really feel.” He banged his fist on the steering wheel a few times. “I just… I feel like I can’t do shit else till I fix this. Till she forgives me.”

Alex took a long deep breath before reaching over and squeezing his hand. “I know… but her forgiving you and you fixing the damage this all caused may not be the same thing. You don’t get to control when she forgives you and your life can’t stop until she does. If she does. Fix what you can, keep showing up where you can, and the rest is on her.”

“And if she doesn’t?”

“Then she doesn’t. And that has to be ok too.” She pulled out her phone and sent a quick text. “I’ll have the list of bodyguards for you by noon tomorrow. Just promise me you’ll get on that plane on Friday? And that your head will be focused on your career, not her. Give me six weeks Mike. Press tour, world premiere, Oscars and then you can chase after her like a lost puppy all you want.”

“Yea I promise. I know how hard you’ve worked for all this… ain’t gonna let you down, Alex.”

“I get paid either way. You earned this. Care more about not letting yourself down.”

And with that, Michael peeled off the curb of Raven’s apartment building and started their trek back to his home. The entire ride Alex’s words tumbled in his brain. He had been so focused on convincing Raven to forgive him when he did need to give her space, as excruciating as that was for him. But space did not mean he could not work to fix the very tangible things his decisions had ruined for her.

“Did you ever get that list of Black agents and publishers that rep fantasy novels?” he asked randomly as they pulled back into his spot in the garage.

“Yea, pulled it a while ago.”

Michael walked Alex to her car, which sat out in front of his house.

“Good. Any on the list you particularly like?”

“One of them’s a friend and if I’m being honest… She is the list.”

“Aight. Let’s game plan that on the plane ride after our interview prep”

Alex leaned against the hood of her car, smiling at him. She patted him on the arm and gave him a smile. “There’s the Michael B Jordan I attached my career to. Welcome back.”

He merely rolled his eyes and smiled. He was a man of action. He would wait a hundred years if that was how much time and space Raven needed. But her not wanting to see him did not mean he could not continue to be what he had always been for her: the first person who took care of her.

***

A knock at Raven’s door forced her out of bed. She had not made much effort to leave the comfort of her own bed since losing her job. She had been able to save up enough from her dates with Michael to save a decent safety net. She would have a couple months before she needed to think seriously about what was next and how to pay rent. She savored the cushion. Her thoughts were an utter mess so she certainly was not mentally strong enough to plan.

As she walked to her front door, her phone started vibrating.

Kiara

She had been avoiding her calls like she was the bubonic plague. She knew why she was calling. To gloat and rub salt in Raven’s wounds. She could almost hear the vitriol Kiara would throw at her without even answering the phone. So she didn’t. She did not care to. She decided to just wait her out, if she ignored her calls enough, she would eventually give up… right? After all, it had almost been two weeks.

Raven had not heard from her dad at all, which she did not know whether to be thankful for or add that to the list of wounds that would not close. Some small part of her would have hoped that, despite them not speaking since the holidays, that he would check in on her after all of this. But she had done all of them a favor when she cut them off. They wanted her out of their lives and she wanted them out of hers. She knew she should no longer care what either of them thought of her.

She sent her call straight to voicemail as she opened her door to find an extremely tall, brooding bald man with shades standing outside her door. He kind of reminded her of what a secret service agent in movies looked like.

“Can I help you?”

“Are you Raven Turner?”

“Why do you want to know?” She kept the door knob in her hand in case she needed to push it closed. She thankfully had not had any crazies approaching her at home, small comfort. But perhaps, that was about to end.

“My name is David Brooks. I’ve been hired to be your bodyguard. May I come in?” Raven’s eyes grew wide as he tried to make a step over the threshold to her apartment. She immediately stepped into his path, using her body and the door as shields.

“You think I’m just gonna let you in cause you say you’re a bodyguard?? I didn’t hire a bodyguard. And I don’t need one. So you could be a serial killer with an elaborate ruse for all I know. Leave.”

“You should know that no serial killer would choose a ruse so specific. And apartments are a foolish place to murder someone, too many eye witnesses. And if I was here to harm you, I’d already be inside. Your door certainly would not stop me.”

“You know you are not really inspiring trust, right?”

“Apologies. It is just frustrating how obsessed the average American woman is about being murdered by a serial killer when statistically, it will never happen. But I digress. Just because you do not believe you do not need a bodyguard, does not mean you don’t.” He reached under his arm and handed her a neat folder of papers. “Resume, background check… much of which is redacted. Security reasons. And he said you would be a reluctant principal so I included the latest research and data on how cyber attacks and stalking can turn violent. Now have I inspired trust?”

Raven took the folder out of his hand and flipped through it quickly, her small stature still blocking his entrance to her home. Her eyes skimmed each page, which included everything about this man except his damn social security number. He seemed legit and even the parts that were not redacted in black highlighter seemed terrifying. But she did not budge from her protective stance in front of her home. She still did not understand.

“Who even hired you??” There was no one in her life that cared enough or could afford to hire her a bodyguard. Well no one except…

Fuck.

“Michael B. Jordan. Any other questions or may I come in so we can discuss your security? Do you do this often? Talk to people in your doorway? Because that will need to end immediately.” His eyes glanced up and down the hallway of her apartment.

Raven let out a deep exhale of frustration and stepped aside, allowing him in. Mainly because she did not want their standoff to continue in her hallway for one of her nosy neighbors to see.

“Don’t get comfortable… you won’t be staying.”

How dare he? She thought to herself. Why can’t he just leave me the fuck alone!

She angrily grabbed her phone off of the kitchen island where she had discarded it. She was too pissed off to feel many other emotions about hearing his voice as she unblocked Michael’s number and hit the call button. She had not spoken to him since he showed up at her apartment days prior.

Ice walls, ice walls, she told herself as she prepared to hear his voice. She forced herself not to read into the fact that it only rang once before his voice started to fill her ear.

“Rae! Lis-”

“Fire him,” she demanded, cutting him off. She had no desire to hear anything he had to say to her.

There was a still beat of silence before Michael’s voice filled her ears again, steaming with the dominance she once craved and yearned for.

“No.”

“I’m not kidding, Michael.”

“I ain’t laughing, Raven. You aren’t ready to talk to me, you aren’t ready to see me, fine. But I’m not gon’ let you fend off paparazzi and randoms alone. And I can’t be there. So he stays.”

Anger coiled in her belly causing her to immediately raise her voice. Every fiber in her being hated him.

“So he can report my every move back to you?? Fuck no. And fuck you. The only reason I would need protection is because of what you did. I’ll never be ready to talk to you and I want nothing from you.”

She could tell this was a losing battle but she fought regardless. She could not handle this shadow following her every second, a visual reminder of him and the fact that he cared about her. But everything in her told her that he didn’t care about her. His actions had made that abundantly clear. This was nothing more than a complex manipulation… like everything else he had done to her since the night they met.

“He’s not obligated to report anythin’ back to me, I promise. I’ve dealt with the paparazzi and crazy fans longer than you. It actually can be dangerous. And I’m traveling and doing all this press so it’s not gonna die off until I’m out of the spotlight in a few weeks. So until then, he stays.”

Raven forgot that Michael was officially on his giant world press tour for Creed 3. A part of her wanted to ask him about it, hear how it was going and how he felt. But she could not allow that either. She did not care about his career. She did not care about him anymore.

“I don’t need anymore help and if I did, I certainly wouldn’t want it from you.”

He let out a sigh that sounded almost… sad? Raven shook her head. She was not going to give in, waver, or break. He was one of the best actors of her generation and that was all this was: an act.

“I deserve that shit. I know it. But I’m not gonna apologize for carin’ about you even if you hate me.”

The back of her eyes stung at his words. She despised it, she did not want to feel this for him. He had destroyed her and she vowed never to let him close enough to do it again. Or anyone for that matter. But perhaps her resolve was not as steadfast as she desperately wanted to believe it was. Her heart may have been willing to hear him out again, but her stubborn brain refused to allow her to give in.

“I do… hate you,” she whispered, hating how clear her emotions were in her tone. Hearing his voice cracked something open inside her and all those walls were starting to crash around her.

“I know… but I’ll never stop, Rae. Never stop lovin’ you and carin’ about what happens to you. Hate me all you want but that’s it.”

She shook her head, even though she knew he could not see it.

Lies. It’s all lies. He doesn’t care. No one does. So stop kidding yourself.

The back of her hand quickly wiped away the few falling tears before she sniffled slightly and cleared her throat. She refused to give in. He did not love her, he did not care about her. That’s the only thing she knew was real. The rest was lies.

“You don’t care what happens to me,” she responded definatively. “No one does,” she repeated the menacing voice in her head that forced her insecurities and hard truths to the surface of her brain. “Hell… I don’t anymore.” Her voice trailed off slightly.

“Rae…” Whatever rebuttal he had started to form in his brain at her first statement faded away like a sandcastle swept in a tidal wave at her words. Did she really think that? Believe that no one in the world cared about her? Did she really no longer care about herself? Those words struck fear in his soul.

“Tell me how I can fix it, baby. Please. Tell me what I can do for you to forgive me.”

Her entire body sagged against the weight of her kitchen counter. She let the phone fall from her ear as a sob bubbled to the surface. She forgot about the GI Joe soldier who was standing in her living room awkwardly pretending as if he could not hear them.

“I-I don’t know if y-you can fix this, Michael. N-Not what you did b-but this exhaustion. I’m just… tired,” she wiped her eyes. “I’m tired o-of reaching out and getting swatted away… I’m tired of being disappointed b-by people. I’m t-tired of forgiving a-and piecing myself back together just to be pushed down and b-broken again. I-I h-have to f-find the fucking energy to pick up the p-pieces of my l-life y-yet again because I d-don’t… have any choice. B-But I d-don’t have enough… to do that a-and figure this out right now. I c-can’t think about forgiving you until I stop feeling…. this … exhausted.” Her words were barely audible as her emotions made her throat too tight to speak.

Another sob broke its way through before she forced her to clear her throat before she stood up straight. She could not do this, could not talk to him and let the door even crack. The wound still hurt too much.

“Goodbye, Michael.”

Raven hung up and blocked his contact once again. She glanced at her new shadow, who now turned his attention back to her.

“I can’t do this right now. I’m not leaving the house today so come back tomorrow and we can talk.” She did not wait for him to agree. “Get out.”

He seemed wholly unperturbed by her rudeness, she was clearly not his first “reluctant principal.” He merely nodded and walked to her front door, leaving the folder and his card with his cell phone number with her.

Raven marched into her bedroom and slammed her door shut, the chorus of sobs she was holding in finally breaking from the surface. Two weeks, only two weeks had passed and she just did not want to feel this anymore. This destruction. The wreckage of her life simply felt too great to rebuild. And there did not seem to be any light at the end of this particular tunnel.

***

The days marched by at a slow pace as Raven tried to do what she told Michael: pick up the pieces to her life. Her day to day now included her own personal GI Joe who followed her everywhere she went. And drove her everywhere she went. Which, admittedly, was not that many places. She did not have a job and she had few friends in LA so she spent most of her time in her apartment, occasionally venturing out for necessities. She imagined she was the easiest and most boring person David had ever protected.

Though they had gotten off to a rocky start, Raven had to admit that she felt safer when she did leave her home with him by her side. And he was not overbearing or bothersome. He had a few rules, which were easy enough for her to follow. And he promised that he would not report her every move back to Michael. She was not sure if she believed him fully but he seemed sincere enough.

She still thought about him, a ghost haunting her every passing thought. Thoughts that were only amplified as pictures and clips from his press tour went viral all over social media. She had tried her hardest to avoid them but sometimes she found her eyes lingering on a reel or tik tok featuring him. She never quite listened to what he was actually saying, she merely just studied him. The way he laughed with his entire body, the spark in his eyes as he talked about his craft and his passion.

He seemed happy… without her, a realization that always made her close whatever video it was and want to curl back up in her bed.

She did not want to miss him, she did not want to still be in love with him. But she still felt everything, all of that love and every ounce of the hurt.

An unknown number covered Michael’s face in the video she was silently watching. Unknown numbers were a mixed bag these days but something in her told her to answer it. It was an LA number, if that made her feel any better about it.

“Hello?”

“Hi, may I speak with Raven Turner?”

“This is she.”

“Hi Ms. Turner. My name is Angelina Smith, I’m the founder of The Spark Agency. We rep Black authors across fiction from contemporary to fantasy and sci/fi. I’ve been looking for new talent and a friend of mine passed along your name to me. You have a few minutes to chat?”

Raven’s eyes grew wide. She did not need to race to google to know who Angelina Smith and the Spark Agency were. They were the first, and one of the only, major Black-owned literary agencies and one of the only that almost exclusively repped Black and Brown authors. She had queried damn near every agent there when she first finished her manuscript but none of it worked out.

“Wait… you’re THE Angelina Smith?? If this is an elaborate prank…” Raven muttered, her brain already forcing her to temper her hopes and dreams. It would not surprise her if this was some insane tik tok prank or ruse to humiliate her. A month ago, she would have never considered that but now? She did not put much past people anymore.

She laughed. “No, I promise this is not a prank. I read your book… you’re incredibly talented. I work closely with Del Rey, Penguin House’s fantasy imprint, and I think your book and series would be perfect for them.”

“Seriously??”

“Yes. Could you come down to my office one day this week? Maybe tomorrow? You’re based here in LA too, right? We can also do something virtual if you’re not in town though. I would love to just chat about your vision for the series and see if we could be a good fit? And if it is, start to discuss all the business stuff. My least favorite part, to be honest,” she chuckled. “Can you give me your email?”

Raven rattled off her email quickly, still shocked and confused as to what was even happening right now.

“Ok great, my assistant will send you a calendar invitation and information. I have to jump but I'm looking forward to meeting you. Talk tomorrow.”

And with that, the call ended, leaving Raven with extreme whiplash as she tried to process what even just happened. She let out a breathy chuckle as she wondered if her life was about to turn around for the better. She did wonder how she even found her book, published under a pseudonym so it would not have been that easy to find. And she had basically been told her career in publishing was dead without hope of resuscitation so why would one of the most successful Black agents in publishing even want to waste their time on her?

A war raged as she tried to decide if this was really real. But a ding of her email let her know that it was legit. She studied every aspect of the email from email addresses to signatures, using LinkedIn and other investigative searches to verify her assistant’s existence as a person and everything checked out. If this was a ruse, it was the most elaborate one she had ever seen. It seemed… legit?

The smallest sprout of hope bloomed in her belly at the thought. Perhaps her life was not completely and totally destroyed. Well it was, but for the first time in a month, she did not see only despair ahead. She saw a path to build something new out of it.

***

“Raven! Angelina,” the tall, lean, and insanely gorgeous woman glided to her office door to greet Raven like she was floating on the air instead of walking in her incredibly high Louboutins. She held out her hand, Raven shaking it enthusiastically. “It is so great to meet you.”

“It is great to meet you too. And sorry,” she wiped her sweaty palm against her dress. “Kinda nervous.”

Angelica waved her hand dismissively. “No need to be nervous. I’ll be honest, I truly rarely say this but I’m already sold on you… just gotta sell you on me,” she winked.

“You’re the first agent to show interest in my work in years… and not to sound like a complete fan, you’re every author’s dream. Hardly need to sell me on you or your agency.”

“I know a diamond when I see one,” she shrugged. “Please sit,” she gestured toward the comfy white couch in her corner office, each woman sitting on each side.

“Not sure about a diamond,” Raven muttered. Her shoulders sagged a bit as she chewed on her lip. This was her dream but all night she had grappled with one thing, one thing that would kill their working relationship before it even began. Her reputation.

“I am so appreciative of this… And honestly, just knowing that someone of your caliber sees the value of my work would be enough. I mean you are amazing a-and your agency has repped some of my favorite authors. And this is such an honor.”

“How do I already sense a but coming?”

Raven smiled sadly. “But I don’t want you to waste your time. I doubt any publisher’s gonna want my name attached to them.”

Angelina stood up and walked over to a small table, pouring two glasses of brown liquor from a decanter she had sitting there. She returned to her perch on the couch, handing Raven one of the glasses.

“Do you think I would personally reach out to you without asking around about you? Without doing a google search? You don’t get to be me without doing your due diligence and I do mine. I know everything ‘your name’ comes with and I still called you. I won’t presume to know everything but I heard enough to know that what your last publisher did to you was not on you or right. Publishers can preach about caring about marginalized voices all they want but it’s still hard to be a woman, a black woman, in our industry. So when a phenomenal black writer gets labeled difficult? I… know what that means. And as for your situation now… well, I like an author with an interesting story,” she shrugged, though interesting was not the word Raven would have used to describe her own story. “But since you think I need convincing about you, let me ask you this… why did you want to be a writer? And why fantasy?”

Raven’s hands anxiously twisted in her lap as she thought about it. “A lot of reasons but mainly… all books are windows… a peek behind the curtain into another life, another time, another reality. But for me, fantasy books were always more? They were doors, a real escape into another world where life was limitless and the powerless underdog could be more. That you could fall but there’s always a reason to pick yourself back up and try again until you don’t fall anymore. And when I wrote my first short story, I realized they were also mirrors, a chance to examine yourself and your own life…” Raven’s hand picked up the hardback copy of her book that sat between the two women. “And heal wounds. Or at least start the process. And when I was old enough, I just realized I didn’t want to just be escaping into someone else’s world. I wanted to escape into one of my own creation too.”

Angelina smiled and nodded. “And that’s what all the due diligence in the world can’t tell me but the only thing I really need to know. I don’t care about anything other than whether this is your passion. And whether you are good at it. Check those boxes and I can work magic with anything, trust me. And as for your concern about publishers, I will admit that I may have been a bit overzealous but I already put feelers out and have three publishers, including Del Rey, who want to meet with you. Your old publishing house even reached out but I didn’t respond. My first response was to tell them to fuck off but wanted to check with you first.”

“Fuck off is pretty polite for what I want to say to them,” Raven muttered under her breath.

“Then fuck off it is.” The two women shared a knowing smile before Angelina continued.

The rest of the meeting was a dream, Raven forgot how amazing this all felt. Even the mundane legal stuff sparked an excitement she had not felt in such a long time. And now she had three meetings on the books to shop her book and an agent again, a book she thought she was not going to be able to do anything with ever again.

“Ok, I think that’s all I need for today. One thing, they’re gonna want book 2 fairly quickly. Any deal we get will include a reprint of this one but they’re all gonna want a first draft as soon as you can get one. Maybe let’s check in again on your progress on March 15? Gives you about a month.”

Raven grimaced on the inside. She had half of her second book done years ago and the doc sat unfinished and untouched ever since she lost her deal. Even with this surge of hope and new energy, she did not know if her creative juices were even still there. However, she did not voice any of those concerns to Angelina. How could she tell this badass woman that she was putting her name on the line for her and Raven did not even know if she could write anymore?

“Sounds good. I can do that,” she lied.

Or at least, we can try… and pray.

“Ok great. Jason will be bombarding your email over the next week with invites and such but I think we’re in good shape. We’ll send over my contract. If you have a lawyer, have them look it over. It’s standard in my opinion but I encourage all my authors to read it with a fine tooth comb and send back notes. It was great meeting you, Raven. I look forward to working with you.”

They shook hands once more before Raven stood to walk out of her office. However, at her door, Raven paused and turned around.

“I’m sorry… Can I ask you one more thing?”

“Of course.”

“How did you… find my book? I wasn’t querying or anything. It’s not even sold in stores anymore.”

“Oh, a good friend of mine passed a copy along. Said you had gotten the rights back recently and thought I might be interested. One thing I’ve learned is to never doubt Alexandra Williams. She knows how to spot rare talent and she was right, per usual. It’s infuriating really,” the woman laughed.

Raven used her hand on the doorknob to steady herself as her words hit her. She supposed she should not have been shocked but she was. A million questions ran through her brain. Why had he done that? What did he hope to get out of it? Was this another manipulation or a sign that he truly loved and cared about her? That he really wanted to fix all of this?

“Sorry… I may have wrongly assumed she or Michael told you I was gonna reach out.”

Raven realized that her internal monologue was clearly showing across her face. She quickly shook her head and replaced her perplexed look with a fake smile. “No, no. Don’t apologize. They probably wanted it to be a surprise. Thank you… again.”

“Thank me when we get you a deal,” she winked at her before giving her a wave.

Raven nodded and saw herself out, realizing that now… she actually had to do something. No more wallowing in bed and watching sad movies. Her life was back in motion and if she did not pick up her feet to keep up, she would ruin this second chance too.

She shot David a quick text asking him to pull around to pick her up. She had a book to write.

***

Michael was pitfully scrolling through his camera roll as Tessa came up behind him and slid into the open seat next to Alex on their jet. Tessa had been a bright spot on this press tour, keeping him engaged and laughing as much as she could. He was grateful. However, when he was alone or in spaces like this with no cameras, the melancholy always settled back in and he found himself seeking out Raven. Now that was simply a text that went unanswered, a wall of blue messages on his end. However, they did go through… which was an improvement.

Since he could not see her, he resorted to scrolling back through his phone and studying every photo or video they took together. His favorites were their trip to Paris. He looked at those pictures and videos more and longer than he should have, made all the more painful by the fact that he was on his way there before heading to London. He had hoped she would be beside him on this particular stop of his press tour, and had hoped she would get to experience Paris again with him.

But this time, the most romantic city in the world would merely feel like a cruel joke. When he examined her in those photos, each one resurfacing memories that he clung to like a buoy in the open ocean, they only made him fall deeper in love with her. It was as if he could see their love story play out in front of his eyes. And he always went back to Paris because it was such a clear turning point for them, the moment everything changed and they started to fall. The descent had been beautiful and he had savored every moment of it. He could see the love she held for him etched in her eyes, the longing that he had doubted was real back then. But now, it was all he could see… all he could focus on.

“Stare at your phone any harder and it might burst into flames,” Tessa joked as she sat down across from him.

Michael chuckled and tossed his phone down in the empty seat next to him, slumping back pitifully.

“My bad. Just…”

“Miss her?”

“Yea. Doubt she misses me though.” He mused, thinking back to their last two conversations, neither of which went well.

When he had made his choice, there had not been a world where he thought he would not be able to mend whatever it damaged between them. Conceited and cocky? He could own that now but his ego often was outsized. But now, he questioned whether there was a path forward for them at all? If he had done too much damage? Every night when he laid down for a precious few hours of sleep, her words tumbled and tossed in his brain matter. He had never heard her sound so… depleted as she was during their last phone call. He was trying, as much as he could from afar, but he did not know if it would ever be enough.

“Wouldn’t be so sure of that. I only met her once but that woman is just as in love with you as you are with her. Those feelings just don’t disappear because she’s upset. Give her -”

“Time. I know,” he muttered angrily. “Just don’t know if there’s enough time to fix how I fucked this up, Tess. She said she’s too tired to forgive me. And the crazy thing is, I can’t even be mad at that. If I had her life, I would be fuckin’ tired too. I just wish she would let me talk to her, you know? Explain or something.”

Tessa reached over and squeezed his hand. “I know but you’re doing what you can. Show her that you care about her and maybe that’ll soften her up enough for a conversation later.”

“And,” Alex interjected. “If it at all gets you out of this relentlessly annoying funk, Angelina texted and said she and Raven had a great meeting yesterday. So one thing’s working out.”

“See?” Tessa, forever an optimist, smiled widely. “Progress. Keep showing up for her.” Tessa leaned back and studied him for a moment, her eyes filled with introspection that made Michael sit up a bit straighter.

“What’s that look for?”

“No, just… I’ve known you for a decade and I just have never seen you like this before.”

“What? Acting like a bitch?” he grumbled, tossing Alex a side eye that she only rolled her own eyes yet.

“No. This serious… this mature… vulnerable. It’s a new side of you that I’ve never seen and the whole world sees it too. It’s really nice and refreshing.”

“Yea, well it’s all her.”

“Does she know that?”

But before he could ask her what she meant, Tessa’s agent called her over to discuss something, leaving Michael alone to ponder his own thoughts.

***

Almost two weeks went by and the document on Raven’s computer remained unchanged. She stared at the screen for hours a day, willing the prose of her novel to leap out of her brain and onto the page but nothing. She reread the words she wrote years ago and none of it even sounded good to her anymore but she did not know how to fix it. Her backspace button saw more love than any other key on her keyboard. Hour after hour marched on and she had nothing to give. Her characters did not even seem to live in her head anymore. When she tried to tap into their thoughts, their lives, and intentions… all she heard was silence from them and the loud roaring of her own problems. They were still there but it was as if they were miles and miles away with too many barriers for her to access them. And if she could not access them, she could not write an authentic story that a publisher would ever want or readers deserved.

Had she gotten a second chance only to realize there was no point? How could she turn a draft around in a quickly dwindling time frame when she had not written a single thing?

And she could not even blame her writer’s block on anyone. It was all her, her brain and insecurities reeking havoc on her ability to do something that had once been as second nature as breathing. And all her thoughts, of course, just charted a path back to him. Always.

She knew Michael arranging that meeting had been an olive branch, his attempt at fixing things between them. And while part of her was grateful, another part was frustrated that the only reason she was getting her shot back at being an author was because of his connections. Hell, she would still be trapped with her own publisher if it was not for him. Did she want her future success and career to be built on his support? Something about it felt… wrong. Like accepting it was forgiveness she was not ready to offer him yet.

She slammed her computer shut in frustration, an unanswered email from Angelina getting an update on her draft. It would just have to stay on read, Raven decided as she sulked in bed. This was her least favorite part of the day… when she gave up trying to force words to appear on the page and curled back into her spot in bed. That’s when all the negative thoughts caught up with her the most and she had no distractions to help her, tormenting and taunting her with how much she did not deserve him. Or anything good in her life.

Even with this new book deal, she was bound to ruin it at some point right? That was all she knew how to do. The sun was starting to set, dimming the light in her room. Sitting there, without her job, students or Michael to distract her, made it that much harder the fact that all roads led back to one central problem: her. And that was not something Michael could fix. Hell, she did not even know how to fix that. Was she even fixable? Or would she just continue to destroy everything in her life forever?

She was about to get up and force herself to watch tv as a distraction when her phone rang.

Kiara

Raven perhaps foolishly thought her sister would simply give up. She could not even count how many times she sent her calls to voicemail but that did not deter her. Kiara demanded that she be given her moment to revel and gloat. Despite wanting nothing to do with or hear a thing from Kiara, Raven knew she was merely kicking an inevitable can down the road. She was a dog with a bone and she would never stop until Raven gave her the attention she demanded.

Perhaps Raven really was a masochist because despite how low she was already feeling, she decided today was the day to stop punting her sister and just get the beating over with.

“Oh so you finally decide to answer my fucking calls? Weeks later?”

“We made it pretty clear where we stood at Thanksgiving. I just knew you wouldn’t stop calling so… say what you wanna say so we can all move on?” Raven could not keep the exasperation out of her voice. She did not need a big speech or lead up. Let’s just get right to the point.

“Not talking all that big shit now, huh? You know… I always knew you weren’t shit but prostitution? Findin’ new ways to embarrass dad and I every day, huh?”

“Yep, so what do you want me to say, Kiara?”

“Just wondering if you’re finally ready to admit what I’ve always known?”

Raven’s eyes clenched shut. “And what’s that?”

“That you were the biggest mistake mama ever made. All you’ve ever done is ruin my life from the minute you were born. Daddy is fuckin’ disgusted with you. You thought you could snag a big nigga like Michael but he just realized what I already knew. You don’t deserve shit, let alone him. Who knows, maybe I’ll give him a call. He’s havin’ his big movie premiere tonight, finally dumped his dead weight. Maybe we can see how he does with a real woman, not a fuckin’ slut.”

Raven’s head thudded against her headboard lightly as a few stray tears fell. She wiped them away and cleared her throat, forcing the words out of her throat. She was broken but she refused to break down in front of Kiara of all people.

“Fine. You’re right,” her voice filled with such sorrow and resignation that Raven almost did not recognize herself. “Satisfied?”

There was a pause as if Kiara was surprised at her response. But that’s what she had wanted, right? To hear Raven humble herself, admit that she was every horrible thing Kiara, her dad, and now the whole world thought she was.

“That’s what you wanted, right?” she repeated out loud. “That you’re right and I’m the villain and all your hate and vitriol toward me for my entire life is justified? Well, you’re right. You can’t hate me more than I hate myself and I deserve all of it. You are right. So congrats. You won. Oh and if you want Michael, you can have him. I’ll send you his number.” Raven did not even bother waiting for Kiara to speak before she hung up and threw her phone down.

Her head fell into her knees as sobs raked through her body, she did not even know her body could produce anymore tears. How had she not dried herself out? That last statement was an utter and complete falsehood. She did not want Michael anymore, or rather, she simply convinced herself she should not want him anymore. Her body still yearned for him like an addict searching for their next fix. But it would be a cold day in hell before she served him on a gilded platter to her sister of all people. And even though she hated him more than anyone in this world, she knew that was not his way.

But everything else? She meant every word. She hated herself and her life. And it was overwhelmingly excruciating to feel 30 years of hatred flood her brain all at once.

“Fuck! Enough of this,” she muttered. She could not sit there, lay around ruminating in her pain and suffering all night. Especially not when Kiara had just reminded her that Michael was having one of the biggest night’s of his career, a night she had once been so excited to experience by his side.

She needed to forget. Forget him, forget her pain… forget all of it.

She went into her closet and pulled out a bodysuit and jeans. She threw on makeup as quickly as she could, freshened up her hair and texted David that she wanted to go out. He was still sitting in his car outside watching her building, as he would until she went to sleep. But tonight, she did not plan on going to sleep anytime soon, she needed release.

And release is exactly what she would find as she made David drive around until she spotted a hole-in-the-wall bar downtown. It was old and grimy and the perfect escape. There were no lying millionaires to be found in a place like this, just regular men who would think nothing of fucking Raven in the bathroom or the back of their car or wherever her drunk mind encouraged them to go.

“Hey, welcome to the Griffin,” the bartender offered as Raven sat down at the bar. “What can I get you?”

“Hey… ummm can I just have tequila with pineapple juice? Double. And just keep ‘em coming.” She handed him her credit card to start what she knew would be a regrettably large tab in the morning. But she could not have hoped to care.

He merely nodded in agreement before quickly mixing her simple but effective poison of choice. She damn near drank it like a shot, throwing it back before signaling him to make her another. And with every disgusting bottom shelf sip of tequila she took, she felt it. Release.

***

“Congrats, baby. The movie was amazing,” Michael’s mother kissed him on the cheek.

“Thanks, ma.”

There was a certain sorrow in his voice that he found hard to hide now that he had returned home from his Creed 3 World Premiere. Two weeks of traveling non-stop and he was finally home. Only home simply reminded him of one person now. Raven. It was the biggest night of his career and he spent the entire night wishing she was by his side, musing on what she would think of specific scenes or the movie overall. Her opinion was the only one he found himself even caring about. The insane pace of his press tour had taken his mind off Raven to a degree. But being back in LA for a few weeks head of the world premiere and the Oscars pushed all those thoughts front and center again.

And it was clear to every person around him, which is why his cast and team did not press him when he declined attending the after party he was hosting and paid for.

“I know it’s hard without her, baby. But celebrate the moment, your moment. If she’s meant to be yours, she’ll come back around.”

His mother squeezed his hand before following his father up the stairs to their bedroom. Michael sighed and nodded. That’s what he kept telling himself this entire time but it was not working anymore. He just wanted to hear her voice, even if all she wanted to do was yell at him. He could take it, handle it. It was the silence that was harrowing, that felt too heart-wrenching to contend with.

This press tour had proven one thing to him - Raven had unlocked a side of him that he had never had before. This was his most open and genuine, most real moments he had offered the public. And people noticed, noticed that he was different, more serious, vulnerable, and open about himself, his work, and his craft. Raven had brought all that out in him. And he wanted her by his side to revel in it with him. He wanted people to know that it was her who caused that, who split him open and made him stop hiding.

His phone rang, Michael’s heart nearly stopping as David’s name slid across his screen. The man had never actively reached out to Michael since his first day guarding Raven. Though Michael paid for his services, he made it clear that he did not want reports unless they were threats to Raven’s safety, physical or otherwise. And so, he had taken David’s silence for what it was: a sign that Raven was safe. And that was all he could ask for. But the man reaching out to him foretold bad news, he knew that much.

“She alright??” Michael asked immediately, his feet already moving toward his keys to get in his car.

“Depends on your definition. We’re at a bar downtown and she’s… well, she’s been here for hours. It’s a dive bar so there aren’t many people here, no cameras. But she’s completely wasted. Like refusing to leave wasted. I told the bartender to cut her off after this drink bu-”

Michael loosened his bow tie and grabbed his keys. “Text me the address.”

“Already sent.”

Michael was not sure what to expect when he finally made it downtown and parked his car. He checked David’s text two or three times, shocked to believe a bar could exist in such a rundown building that did not look safe, much less occupying a functioning business. But David had sent the correct address, the faded, grungy and dilapidated sign of The Griffin hanging above the door.

Michael knew he looked out of place as he pushed his way inside, his body still donned in a perfectly tailored royal blue tuxedo. But thankfully, the bar was not crowded, just a few folks hanging around the bar and booths. But he only had eyes for one person like a moth to a flame, a young woman wildly dancing in the corner near the jukebox.

Despite the carefree smile on her face and swing in her hips, Michael could still see the dimmed spark in her eyes from across the dimly lit bar. He had not laid eyes on her in so long and just seeing her was like someone breathed new life into his body. The rough seas of his soul calmed, even just for a moment, before worry consumed him.

Was this normal for her since they broke up and stopped speaking? Getting completely drunk at dive bars? He could count on one had the number of times he had seen her tipsy, let alone drunk. But this was beyond anything he had ever witnessed with her but a scene he knew all too well with himself: someone trying to numb their pain with liquor and a good time. And it always worked, he knew, until the sun came up and the hangover set in and the pain rushed back tenfold. He chased that serene, weightless, painless feeling night after night for years. He had to learn the hard way that numbing the pain did not stop or heal it, it just made it hurt more later on when you finally confronted it. He refused to let someone as pure as Raven fall into the same trap he did.

He made his way across the bar, only stopping to speak to the bartender. “How many drinks she had?”

The bartender, a graying white man, glanced up from where he was wiping down the soiled bar. His eyes grew wide for a moment, clearly recognizing Michael, before he answered.

“Uhhh… I’m sure she lost track. The one in her hand is number 7. And her last. The guy with her told me to cut her off.”

Michael let out a low whistle and grimaced. There was not a world in which she didn’t feel that in the morning. He pulled out his credit card and slid it across the bar to the man. “Pay her tab with this for me, aight?”

“Yes sir. You’re my favorite villain in Marvel by the way…” he offered with an enthusiastic smile.

“‘Preciate you.” Michael walked over to where Raven was dancing and where David stood protectively by, the young woman still not even noticing him. More of the drink in her hand landed on the dirty floor of the bar than it did in her mouth when she tried to take another sip.

Michael rushed forward and skillfully slid it out of her grasp, Raven whipping around to find him behind her. Her smile immediately fell as she looked him up and down.

The drunk version of her wanted to be excited to see him but the sliver of her logical brain that remained reminded her that the only reason they were drinking was to forget him and the destruction he caused. How could she be so weak as to even care that he was there?

“W-what are you doing… here?” she slurred, her hand making a grab for her drink, which he held just out of her grasp.

“To take you home that’s what. You’ve had enough. Unless you wanna end up in the hospital with alcohol poisoning?”

She merely shrugged as she continued to dance. “Can’t be any worse. I’m having… a good time. Unlike him,” She turned to David and smiled. “He’s sooooooooo uptight. You know… h-he doesn’t even smile. Like ever? And has a lot of thoughts… on serial killers, w-which is strange. Come on, David.” She called over to him from his stance in the corner, which gave him a full view of the bar. “Dance with me,” she tried to walk over to him in her high heels but stumbled, Michael quickly grabbing her around her waist and pulling her against his chest. “I-I’m fine, I’m fine.”

“No you aren’t. Come on.”

“You… two are… no fun,” she moaned pitifully. However, she did not fight against Michael’s strong grasp as he led her out of the bar and to his ferrari.

It took him longer than it should have to just get her in the car. However, once she was settled, he went into the back and grabbed the spare gym bag he kept there and dumped all the clothes out before putting it in her lap like a makeshift bucket. Though he knew he could just take her to his condo, he wanted to care for her at his home, which was a longer drive. And as much as he adored her, getting the interior of his brand new and very expensive custom car cleaned when all that alcohol inevitably showed up in a different, less desirable form was not on his to-do list for tomorrow.

Raven’s wild and uninhibited drunk persona continued for most of the ride as she demanded he turn on some “tunes” for her to listen to, singing loudly and off-key to every song she pulled up on his Spotify. It would have been cute if the entire situation had not been so concerning.

By the time they reached his house 30 minutes later, the height of her drunkenness had worn off and her persona had settled into a decidedly somber one.

“You hold your liquor better than I thought you would,” Michael remarked as he helped her up the stairs to his master suite.

“Only… long enough not to throw up in your fancy car. Can’t m-make the same promise… for your carpet if you keep moving this slow.”

That did make Michael pick up his pace a bit, immediately taking Raven to his bathroom and gently sitting her down. He made quick work of taking off her shoes and pulling her hair back with the hair tie on her wrist just in time for her to bury her face in the toilet.

Michael rarely got sick from alcohol but he had never been more thankful for his high tolerance of liquor as he essentially watched her body perform an exorcism. He only left her once to get her water and make a cup of tea to settle her stomach but even in his giant house, he could hear the faint heaving as he made his way to the kitchen.

When he returned with her water and tea, Raven was sitting with her head propped up on his toilet seat, gingerly wiping a few tears from her eyes.

“I-I’m sorry…” she pushed out. “Having my ex have to take care of me is a… fucking new… low.”

Michael felt like she had sucker punched him with the word ex. He supposed that was what they were, no matter how much he did not want that to be true. But it did not hurt any less.

“Don’t apologize.” He wet a washcloth with warm water before wiping her face. “Better?”

“Yea… c-can’t imagine there’s anything left in my body,” she mumbled. She stared at him for a moment before saying. “You shouldn’t’ve come. I told him not to tell you where I went.”

“Tonight was the first time he called me. I only just got back to LA this week for press and the premiere. He was just worried about you. Don’t think he expected me to actually show up.”

She eyed him up and down, for the first time realizing he was in a pristine deep royal blue tuxedo. She could not stop the passing thought on how good he looked.

“How was it?” At his confused expression, she amended. “The movie… how was it?”

He scoffed, even in this state, she cared about how his movie went. She always spoke about how she did not deserve him but from where he sat, it was the other way around.

“Don’t really care to talk about the movie right now, Rae. Want to talk about you.”

“Well I don’t wanna talk about me o-or think about me. Hence all the alcohol my body just ejected. So how was the movie?”

He slid down onto the floor next to her, setting the pajama set he had pulled out for her next to him.

“It was good. I’d already seen it but seein’ it on a big screen, watchin’ my family see it. It was surreal.”

“A-and the press tour?”

“Good. Busy. Not done either. Alex secured an interview with Oprah, which is hella dope… bout the movie and Oscars. So it’s been good. Hard without the one person I needed though.”

She scoffed, finally feeling strong enough to stop using his toilet as a literal crutch. She forced herself to scoot away, now leaning her back into his standing tub across from him.

“Didn’t need me. No one does,” she muttered, taking a sip of the tea he sat out for her.

Ginger tea, perfectly made just as she liked it. God, why was he like this?? So perfect and attentive even when she wanted to hate him?

“That’s not true. Tell me what’s goin’ on, Rae? I… I’ve never seen you like this. Never seen you drink this much or talk like this.”

“Maybe you don’t know me that well…” she muttered as she played with the material of his rug beneath her.

“I think I know you pretty well and this ain’t you.”

“I… finally talked to my sister today. A-and she just voiced what I already knew but had never said out loud. All I do is ruin things… people. Hell, I’m about to ruin this book deal you got it… I can’t even write anymore. Destruction follows me like a damn fire everywhere I go, burning everything I touch. I just… didn’t want to be me for a while? Didn’t want to be weighed down by that.”

“You didn’t ruin me.”

“If you had never met me, your face wouldn’t have been plastered across TMZ for carrying an unconscious woman out of a hotel…. If you’d never met me, you’d be blissfully enjoying your moment right now instead of taking care of a pathetic girl you dumped.” She paused, her fingers twirling around the fraying threads of the hole in her distressed jeans. “If I hadn’t been born, my family would be whole a-and happy. If I had just said yes to that asshole, I’d still have my career and I wouldn’t have resorted to prostitution. I-If I hadn’t decided to make a quick buck, I wouldn’t have disappointed my students a-and everyone I know. A-and it was easy to blame you when e-everything happened,” she whispered as tears streamed down her face, as the drunk facade gave way to the brokenness and pain she tried to numb. “It was easy to act as if this w-was all your fault. But it’s me. I’m the problem.”

“Rae…”

She raised her hand to stop him. “Don’t pretend it’s not true… this is all my fault.” He watched as she held the soft cotton in her hands, her fingers rolling over it. A tear fell from her eyes, splashing onto the heather gray material. She lifted her eyes, her first time looking him in his eyes. “W-was any of it real? W-what we had?”

“All of it was real. Every bit of it. I love you with everything in me, Rae. I hate that you don’t believe that, that I made you doubt it. But it’s true. You can’t ruin me when you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

“A-and Tasha? D-do you love her?”

Michael’s eyes grew wide. “Fuck no. I swear. I… messed up. Completely fucked up. I… thought I was helping you by dealing with it on my own and I let my anger at Tasha and fear of hurting you push me to do just that. I hurt you. And I’ll do anything to mend what I broke.Because you’re my world, Raven. You have to believe that. What can I do to make you believe that?”

Michael watched as her shoulders shrugged forward, collapsing under the weight of the day and everything. She pulled her knees into her chest, resting her head on her knees. “I d-don’t know if I can believe anything anymore.

“Then I’ll spend the rest of your life and mine helping you believe it. Whatever it takes.”

Raven stood up, ignoring the dizziness the sudden movement caused as she made a beeline for his bedroom door. She thought she could do this but she couldn’t. She couldn’t be here with him, listening to his promises. Not when the voices in her head loudly clashed against his words like metal against metal. Most of her brain that still loved him with everything in her screamed at her for pulling him away from one of the biggest nights of his career, chastising her for ruining yet another thing for him. And the louder part that demanded she despise him yelled that all of his promises were a lie, nothing he said was real. They weren’t real.

She did not deserve him and he was just propping her back up so he could knock her down again, he would never keep those lofty promises. That’s what everyone in her life did and she was too bruised to be anyone’s punching bag anymore. He was just a fantasy she tried to will to life but was never real.

She grabbed her clutch and phone that Michael had discarded on her bed. She did not care how her body swayed slightly and was still off kilter. She could stay awake long enough to call an uber and get herself home.

“What are you doing??”

“Going home. I c-can’t do this. You shouldn’t have come tonight. You s-should be out celebrating your big night, not here taking care of me.”

“The fuck? Raven, put the phone down. I ain’t lettin’ you Uber home like this.”

“You don’t care!”

“Stop sayin’ that shit!” he rushed forward and ripped her phone out of her hands, closing the Uber app. He knew it was wrong but he also knew her movements and reactions were too slow for her to stop him.

She tried to snag it from him, the actor easily holding it above their heads and utterly out of her reach.

“Stop wasting your time on me, Michael,” she hurled at him, her eyes clenching shut in her exasperation. “G-Go be with Tasha o-or some model or some woman actually worth your time. A woman you actually want. We both know that’s not me. So let me go, please. T-this… the promises, t-the disappointment, it hurts too much.”

“Be mad at me. Push me away all you want. Fine, I deserve it. But do it because I fucked up. Because I lied and kept the truth from you and tried to protect you and disappointed you just like everyone else. I can learn to live with that one day. But I can’t and won’t live with you doing it because you still believe you don’t deserve me! Because that’s not true.”

“Why w-would I believe you deserve me??! What future could we… ever have together when the world knows you a-and however many men they believe paid me for sex?? What kinda future is that for us?? People a-are calling you the greatest actor of a fuckin’ generation. You’re about to interview with fuckin’ Oprah literally this week! And what am I? A prostitute with no family and 3 failed careers under her belt?? A failed author who can’t even write a sentence now, much less another book. What kinda future would we have when you didn’t even think I w-was strong enough to tell me your secrets, your problems?? This whole situation, YOUR actions, proves that WE WEREN’T REAL!” she exploded, her drunkenness fueling the first time she voiced her true feelings out loud to anyone. “None of it was real. And the moment it got real, the moment shit got hard, you didn’t confide in me, you didn’t trust me, you threw me to the wolves because you knew what the rest of the world knows… I don’t deserve to be here i-in this part of your life! Th-This house… y-your family… your real life?? I don’t fit here anymore, Michael! I n-never did.” She took a deep shuddering breath before continuing.

“So I’m asking you… begging you to just… let me go. L-Let me go back to my…” she chuckled. “Insignificant life as Pluto o-or the side character. Please. B-Because I can pick myself b-back up a-and force myself to keep moving, force myself to keep going a-and b-be alone for the rest of my life a-and live in the shadows. But I can’t do that with fake promises, promises of m-more when it isn’t real… because w-words a-and promises a-aren’t real a-and they aren’t enough a-anymore. I can’t k-keep putting my faith in fantasies only for reality to knock me down again. Because I d-don’t think I can get back up again. I-I’m tired, Michael. This is it, this is all I have left. So please… just let me go.”

Michael slightly stumbled back in shock, the raw hurt in her voice almost too agonizing to feel. His arm came down but his grip on her phone was almost crushing. Though he wanted to respect her wishes, he also knew… there was not a world in which he could let her go truly. He loved her too much. His world rose and set with her. He used his knuckles to wipe his own tears away.

“Raven… please. J-just give me a chance to show you that I’m real, that what I feel for you is real. Because I would give up all this shit, every last bit of it for you. I’m at the height of my career and all I can think about is you. All that matters is you.”

She shook her head and held out her hand for her phone. “I wish… I wish I c-could believe you. But I don’t know if I can.”

With that, Michael’s grip loosened just enough for Raven to grab her phone and purse and start to walk out the door. However, as she pulled open the door, Michael’s hand grabbed the frame to stop her.

“I can keep working to fix what I did. I can show you that you’re my world, that you’re my Sun and that my world revolves around the very look on your face. I will happily show up at your doorstep everyday with actions and proof of how much I love you… how much I fucking breath for you. And I will. But I can’t make you believe it. I can’t make you believe you deserve it. That’s the one thing I can’t do here. I-I’ll never let you go, Rae. My heart will always be yours.” He bowed his head, every word felt like a sharp knife leaving his throat, agony to force out. But he knew it had to be said. “But I c-can’t force you to believe that you own my heart and deserve it or that you’re worth everything to me. I can do everything in my power to show you I’m worth one more fall but you have to jump. So if and when you believe what I know is true about you and us, I’m ready to jump again.”

And with that, he let her go, allowing her to open the door fully and leave. Every step she took further away from him caused the sorrow he felt to grow to unspeakable heights. At one time, he thought this pain could not have gotten worse. But this was far worse.

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A/N:

I promise yall… it’s gonna get better LOL This is really the worst it gets! Our girl is just feeling the weight of it all and is sad but she is a survivor 💪🏾

Y’all were hard on my girl last chapter - how are we feeling?? Still mad at her? Still mad at Michael? Let me know your thoughts in the comments! *disappears* lol also it was really hard to post this from my phone 😭 won’t do that again hahaha