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#i wish for this moment to be real and not some kind of dream or fantasy
d3adlyromb3ar · 3 days
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'. ݁₊ ⊹ cold lips, cold heart — one
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— pairing. hockey player!choso x ice skater!fem!reader
— synopsis. you were one of the most graceful skaters to ever skate in your local arena, competing at a young age— racking up trophies and medals as the years passed. after an accident at your last competition, you find yourself afraid to skate again. your coach decides to ask one of your local hockey team players for help, desperate to get you back on the ice. but out of all the players your coach could’ve picked, it had to be him.
— word count. 3.5k
— contents. enemies to friends (eventual), friends to lovers (eventual), angst, trauma, fluff, hurt/comfort, mentions of injuries, language
— notes. i think hockey players are hot & choso is extremely hot, so put those together and life just feels perfect 🤤 thank you @saradika for the dividers 🤍
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How does one find themself in this situation, one so backwards. One so disorienting you wonder if this is merely a dream or the harsh reality. It couldn’t possibly be a moment in your life that needed to happen. You outright refused to believe that this was happening for a reason.
Between the battlegrounds you call your life and the way you were losing your mental strength as every day passed— the ice was the last place you clung to. It was the only place where you could be free. Free of the pain, the agony— of it all.
As you feel the cameras flashing, the blurred outlines of faces and silhouettes crowding you— you realize that you life was about to change. The pit in your stomach only grew in size at the possibility that you may never skate again. What was once a place you could call home, could now just be remembered as a sheet of ice.
Your eyes remained unfocused, staring blankly at your legs covered by a sheet, being wheeled into the back of an ambulance. Voices could be heard from either side of you, although they were unclear. It sounded almost as if they were speaking underwater— you weren’t listening.
It became too much for your eyes to stay open, and you begin to drift off. If only you knew how much your life was about to change.
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“Here you go,” You handed the man his extra large coffee with two sugars and two creams. Just like every day. “Enjoy!”
“Thanks darling.” The man sent her a smile, heading outside to his usual spot, in the shade, just a hair out of the sunlight.
You smiled as he walked away. He was such a kind old man, face so gentle— and wrinkly. Still, he was sweet.
“What bullshit!” Your friend Maki hissed, face stuffed in her phone, “They keep making these damn tickets more expensive. Fucking fuckers.”
You slapped a hand to your mouth, trying your hardest not to giggle at her frustrated state.
“C’mon, you don’t really wanna go to a hockey game that bad, do you?”
“Hell no.” She hissed.
“Right, right. You just wanna try and get some big hunky hockey player dick.”
Maki had a proud expression on her face.
“That’s right— and I’m not ashamed.”
You shook your head, letting the giggle escape this time.
“You’re utterly ridiculous.”
“And youuu need to get some hockey dick too. Or just dick period.”
You rolled your eyes, very aware of your dry spell that has been going on for… well. Awhile.
“I am doing just fine actually, thank you very much.”
Maki leaned forward, her glasses perched on the tip of her nose. She was giving you her best really look.
“Honey, I’m all for this independent female attitude you got going on but, let’s be real. You need to be dicked down.”
You made a disgusted face, embarrassed that she was talking so loudly when there were costumers around.
“You might feel a little less stressed once you do,” She told you, “Find some super good dick and all your issues might just vanish.”
“Yeah, wish that was the case.” You were at a whisper by the end, glancing down to the scars that started below your knee and disappeared underneath your shorts.
Maki noticed your stare, her gaze softening.
“Listen, it might be good for you to at least meet someone, y’know? You need to stop moping around and go do something— live a little!”
You pouted, crossing your arms.
“I’m not moping around.”
Maki gave you another look.
“Babe, you’re the epitome of moping around.”
You acted hurt, holding a hand over your heart.
“Damn Maki.”
“I’m serious (Y/n).”
You waved her off, brushing all your joking to the side. Plus, you were only using humor to hide how you were truly feeling— defeated.
“I know, I know.”
“I just wanna see you happy, that’s all. You deserve that after everything you’ve been through.” She told you sweetly.
“I am happy Maki. Life at the coffee shop couldn’t be better.” You tried to convince her. Hell, you couldn’t even convince yourself.
“You need a life outside of work, and one that makes you happy.” She corrected.
You walked past her, nudging her shoulder playfully as you passed.
“On it boss!” You said lastly as you headed for the back. Your shift was ending soon.
You clocked out of work, setting your apron in your work locker before heading towards the bus stop. You had a plan to go home and binge some cringey tv show while stuffing your face with junk food. Yeah, that sounds wonderfu—
“(Y/n)!”
Scratch that.
You turned to see your old coach walking towards you, huge smile on her mature face.
“Hey there Ms. Utahime. What brings you here?”
She furrowed her brows, stopping when she was in front of you. Her look was one that made you wonder if you should know why she was here.
“One, can’t I just come see my favorite person in the world,” She definitely wanted something, “And two, I’m wondering why you aren’t back on the ice?” Yup, there it is.
“I told you coach, I’m not going to be starting up again. Already returned my skates and all my uniforms.”
“Nope. Just had everything returned to your place.”
You gave her a wild look.
“Why would you do that?”
“Because you’re going to be back on the ice soon.”
You sighed, leaning on your left leg to give your right a break.
“Coach, I’m not skating anymore. I’m sorry, I’m just not.” You started, pleading almost with her, “That chapter of my life is completed.”
She gave you a motherly look. Oh god.
“(Y/n) that chapter of your life was just beginning. You were doing so well and I couldn’t have been prouder of you.” You felt a but coming. “But,” Yup. “You aren’t done with what you’ve started, I’m sorry, I won’t let you waste your talent.”
“Coach—”
“Nope. I’m not giving you a choice. You’re gonna be back on the ice and train, because I know for a fact it’s been awhile since you’ve skated— no thanks to you.”
“I get it.” You rolled your eyes.
“I have big plans for you (Y/n), and they match up with your big plans.”
“Maybe that used to be my plan. Grow up to be the best skater there ever was, but after my…”
She waited patiently, watching your mouth open like a fish before closing. You had to gather your thoughts.
“After what happened,” You worded differently, “Things have changed. That girl, it isn’t who I am anymore.”
Coach Utahime sighed, giving her a moment to gather herself before letting her hand rest on my shoulder— in attempt to bring me some comfort.
“Will you at least think about it?”
You gazed into her eyes, her hope filled eyes that had you feeling weak and guilty— almost forcing the words out of your mouth. God, how you missed skating, and you’d do anything to get back to where you were. But it wasn’t that easy.
With a deep breath, you found yourself nodding.
“I’ll think about it.”
Her eyes were beaming, a smile taking over her face as she almost started jumping up and down from excitement.
“Great. I’ll see you soon.” She turned and waved goodbye, heading back to wherever she had come from.
Now it was just you standing at the bus stop, head full of chaos. What were you thinking? You couldn’t skate again, could you?
Like a robot following its coding, you walked onto the bus, sitting down in your usual spot all the way in the back— a window seat of course. You let your elbow rest on the arm of the seat, your palm cradling your chin. The view was pretty. In the sense that you got to admire people as the bus passed by. People didn’t realize how interesting they became when they were so oblivious to the watchers of the world, quirks and habits poking out as people became lost in their own little world.
It was a weird thing to appreciate I guess, but it calmed you.
You wondered how you looked to others that happen to watch you. You wondered if they felt sad, or if they felt embarrassment— for how someone could live such a dull life. Especially when life started so colorful, so lively.
Will you at least think about it?
You grumbled into your palm, annoyance at yourself for caving so easily to Utahime. It wasn’t easy to say no to her. She was the best coach you’ve ever had— the only coach that is. She was also not only a constant on the ice, but she was consistent in your personal life as well. It was odd but endearing.
Your thoughts were interrupted when a figure moved from your left. Glancing over, you watched the man sit on the furthest seat from you— except he was in the same row. The very back. Your section.
The man was facing the window, the view not helping you confirm who he was. The second he turned his head, and you were able to get a glance at his stupidly perfect side profile— you wanted to gag.
Choso Kamo.
You went with a scoff instead.
Choso turned his head towards the noise, his eyes unchanging as he saw you. Without smiling your way or offering any kind of greeting— he simply turned back to face forward. Not paying you any attention.
You narrowed your eyes at him, soon facing the window again— allowing yourself to once again sink into the abyss you called your mind.
Choso Kamo. Where to even start with Choso. It was pretty simple. He was a moody, angsty man who praised himself too high at being one of the best hockey players there was. Because that definitely wasn’t right… right? He had this mysterious aura about him, always keeping to himself. Never one to strike a conversation. To make things even better, the only confrontations you have with him were sour. He was always short and rude. It wasn’t that you wanted to dislike him— you just couldn’t stand him.
It also didn’t help that you used to have a crush on him, y’know, before you met him and then realized you hated him sorta thing.
I mean, who wouldn’t have a crush on him? Despite his shit personality, he was insanely attractive. Bone structure sculpted by the gods themselves. It was quite unfair really, to be gifted with such lethal looks— only to be a dick. Oh yeah, it didn’t help that he played hockey too. Apparently, it made a man 10x hotter when they played hockey. I don’t make the rules.
You snuck another glance at him, wondering what he was doing now. Or if he had gotten off the bus while you were daydreaming about hi— I mean thinking. Thinking about him.
You couldn’t help the pink dust your cheeks, seeing as he was already looking your way. In fact, he was holding your gaze with something unspoken. You instinctively placed a hand on your belly, wishing to stop the butterflies.
Again, like you were invisible, he looked away. Gazing out his own window, not paying you any mind. Again.
You chewed the inside of your lip, still unsure why it had to be him that had your gears grinding. He was a dick, yeah that’s it.
“Do you need something?”
The deep voice startled you, snapping you back to reality. A pair of dark eyes were staring at you, his brows furrowed at you as he waited for an answer.
You must’ve been looking at him still while you were lost in your thoughts. Great.
“Uh… no?” You didn’t even know why you were making it sound like a question.
“You were staring at me.”
“You were staring at me first.” You shot back.
His eyes narrowed in on you, silent for a moment as it almost seemed like he was trying to get a read on you. It had you squirming in your seat slightly— his gaze intimidating.
“I didn’t recognize you at first, (Y/n).” He admitted, your name falling off his lips so smoothly. “Was just making sure it was actually you.”
You swallowed, unprepared for that kind of response.
“Surprised you even remember my name.”
He turned his body slightly more facing you.
“Why wouldn’t I?”
You narrowed your gaze, starting to pick at the skin around your fingernails. A bad habit.
“You’re making it sound like we used to be close or something.”
He didn’t respond for a moment, just staring at you with confusion— like he didn’t understand you. He didn’t quite understand where your hostility was coming from.
“Were we not?”
You couldn’t possibly think of a way to respond to that, stuck staring at him like he’d just said the most outrageous thing. You felt confusion, shock and most importantly— embarrassment.
Remembering the day all too well, the day of your innocent much younger self building up the courage to express your feelings to a certain person. The same person who was sitting at the back of the bus with you.
You could still remember the utter humiliation of being rooted in your spot as he told you he didn’t feel the same. The sinking feeling in your stomach when he walked away, leaving you all alone to all watching eyes. You could still feel the tightness in your throat at the last glance of his pitied look towards you before he turned away.
Were we not? Choso had asked. The question almost making you laugh maniacally— at how obvious the answer was.
“No.” You told him blankly, “We were never close, I don’t know where you even got the idea that we were.”
He looked at you again for a moment, the only sound of the lulling engine of the bus. He had such a confused expression, and for a second you thought you saw something along the lines of a hurt look. That couldn’t be right.
“Yeah, guess you’re right.”
He turned back to his window, gazing out at the scenery passing by— leaving you to your thoughts again.
You shook your head, noticing that it was your stop coming up. You got up and headed towards the front of the bus, your hand hanging onto the bus railings as you walked along.
“Have a good day ma’am.” The driver had said sweetly.
You gave them a small smile, holding onto the railing tightly as you focused on your steps. Why did the bus stairs have to be to steep? You thought.
Your heel hovered too far ahead of the next step, causing you to slip— your right knee buckling from the previous stair, crumpling under you.
The bus driver gasped, something about asking if you were okay— but all you could focus on was the hot sensation coming from your right leg. You gripped tightly onto the railing, stopping yourself from falling any further. You bit your lip as a weird sensation flourished throughout you, memories of the accident fresh in your mind— the visions almost causing you to physically flinch away.
“Ma’am? Are you okay ma’am?”
You closed your eyes for a minute, taking a deep breath before you stood on shaky legs, your left leg taking most of the weight. You hobbled off the bus, limping pathetically until you reached a bench.
It wasn't completely a reaction from the pain. Yes it hurt, but it were the overwhelming flashbacks that would cripple you momentarily. You just needed to relax on the bench for a couple seconds, you'd be okay after.
"(Y/n)—?" The familiar deep voice startled you, lifting your gaze to see Choso holding out your bag. "You dropped this."
You kept a neutral expression, grabbing your bag back.
"Thanks."
"You okay?" He asks, and you were confused at his genuinely concerned expression.
You tucked your hair behind your ears, taking a deep breath. You felt better now that the uncomfortable feeling passed.
"Yeah, I'm fine." You kept your answers short.
Choso didn't believe you.
"You sure?" He pushed.
You narrowed your eyes, studying him— almost like you were trying to figure him out.
"Do you actually care?"
Choso sighed, crossing his arms, still standing in front of you.
"Why would I ask if I didn't care?" He replied, his expression the same as when he'd started talking to you— concerned.
"Why would you even ask? You've never bothered to talk to me before, so why now?" You wondered, this sudden change confusing. He was usually quiet and keeping to himself— certainly not bothered to strike up conversation with you. So why now, was it rude to ask?
"You looked like you were in pain, so I thought I'd make sure you were okay." He explained, his brows furrowed as he was slightly annoyed, "Maybe I don't talk a lot, but that doesn't mean I'm heartless."
"Could've fooled me." You mumbled.
"Why do you hate me so much?"
You scoffed, wondering if you should tell him how your younger feelings were hurt. Your younger self experiencing her first heartbreak. Definitely not.
"I don't hate you... I just would rather not talk with you." You said instead.
"Alright... because?"
"Because I just don't wanna talk with you."
He sighed again, running a hand through his hair— which looked so soft and just gorgeous. No, don't think about that.
"Seems unfair."
You shrugged, leaning back on the bench as you crossed your legs. Taking your time when you set your right leg overtop your left, as it felt a little sore from your tumble.
"Life's unfair." You muttered, hating that you were repeating what you had been told all your life. To be on the other end of it felt weird.
He chuckled. He actually chuckled, the deep vibrating sound floating through the air. You really couldn't ignore how much you loved hearing that sound. Actually, you hated that you loved it.
"Alright, well take care (Y/n). Give your leg some rest, hope you feel better." He said, turning to walk away.
Your cheeks flushed, hating that he had caught you— but how?
"I told you— I'm fine." You tried to convince him.
"I know. You're a terrible liar." And he was incredibly observant.
You bit your lip in annoyance, uncrossing your legs and holding your hands over your right thigh— like you were trying to hide it. Yeah good luck.
You couldn't find it in yourself to respond, too frustrated that he had called you out. A part of you wanted to appreciate that he at least seemed like he really cared— but you also didn't trust that it was genuine. You wanted it to be— that small part of you always having a spot in your heart for him. For some reason.
His steps were swift and relaxed as he walked further away down the sidewalk— to where exactly? No idea. You were almost positive this wasn't even his stop, and that he only got off for you. To give you your bag back you weirdo— yeah thats it.
With everything, like coach pressuring you into skating, your family drama that you'd rather not talk about, Maki's odd obsession with getting me dicked down— and now Choso? I didn't need this and I didn't want it.
So why was your head filled with thoughts about him, and his stupidly handsome face?
Fuck.
Your phone rang in your bag, and you scrambled to get it out with a huff of annoyance. Can't I just be left alone? You thought.
Pulling it out, the caller ID said Coach. With a sigh, you slid to answer.
"Hey Coach." You greeted.
"(Y/n)! Good news—!" Her voice squealed through the phone, making you flinch back from it, "I got someone to help you get back on the ice!"
You face palmed your face, running a hand down as you held in the urge to whine.
"Oh, really?" You ask in fake interest.
"Yup, they will help you get comfortable skating again. I wouldn't have asked this person if I didn't trust them." She informed you.
"Great." You said sarcastically.
"(Y/n), try to sound a little excited— god." She complained, and you rolled your eyes. "I'm gonna send you this person's profile. Maybe you can meet and talk with him, get to know each other before you start training. Y'know, get comfortable with each other."
"Alright fine, but I'm only doing this because I know you'll just force me anyway."
"Very true." She laughed. "I'm sending over the info now, gotta go— text you later!"
She hung up before you could say bye, and you got the expected ding of the text. You clicked on the link to the profile and immediately noticed the logo on the profile— it was a hockey team.
Your eyes skimmed over the profile and widened in disbelief when you read the name listed. You gotta be fucking kidding me...
Choso Kamo.
Well fuck.
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— ending notes. thinking about making this a series, but I have so many projects in the works right now, what am I doing to myself lol
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Just to minimize my chances of being genuinely misunderstood OR deliberately misinterpreted, and crucified for something I don't think, How Dare You Say We Piss on the Poor website etc...I'm gonna say this right up top. I absolutely understand why people don't like Thessaly as a character, if anyone does completely unironically stan her as some kind of feminist hero who Did Nothing Wrong uwu, I personally see it as a bit of a red flag. I don't like terfs real or fictional. In a vacuum, I could even completely sympathize and agree with the people who want her cut.
HOWEVER.
It's really something to me to see people clamoring for her to be cut, because she carries and expressed an ugly indefensible prejudice (transphobia) in words towards (1) person. Meanwhile Hob fucking Gadling enacted one of the most violent forms of antiblack racism I can even think of against thousands no, millions of people, the ripple effects of which still affect billions more today. Just a little light idk, profiting off the fucking slave trade and had to be told by someone else that it was bad...and he's a fan favorite.
People are saying Thessally being Dream's love interest reflects badly on him or is somehow endorsement by the narrative (?!?!?!?!?!? Didn't she (SPOILER ALERT AS IF IT MATTERS BY NOW) help participate in his extended assisted suicide? She's not painted as a great person to me just another character what are y'all SMOKING whatever fine. It's fine this is fine.) But shipping Dream with Mr. Former Slaver is not only not verboten or frowned on widely in the fandom but its THEE most popular pairing by far. So...why the difference?
Like where are the same fans who are saying Thessaly shouldn't just be more clearly shown to be wrong, she shouldn't even be in the show at all when it comes to Hobert's crimes??? Yes, transphobia is indefensible. Isn't racism?
And I hear the cries of "it's fiction!!!" Already rallying (if anyone who needs to hear this even sees it lol) to which I say:
HORSESHIT. I KNOW you don't, deep down, really agree because if you did, why get upset about Thessaly being included??? Why does what she said to one person matter if it's Just Fiction You Guyze. Fictional characters are allowed to do bad things and fiction isn't reality sweaty....except when you only apply that standard to fictional racists you like and simp for, but fictional transphobes you don't are SO HARMFUL they shouldn't even be portrayed in fiction.
Like. Give me a big fat BREAK. This looks like bullshit, no? I'm sorry, but I'd love for someone to try and give any other explanation besides one personally offended you or hit home for you, and the other doesn't.
And if that bothers you or you feel like it says something negative about you...idk what you want me to say??? You can't control how other people perceive you and that's how people outside this majority-of-the-fandom bubble see it. You don't need to respond, I just wish and genuinely hope this gives you a moment to think about why fans who ARE bothered by both (and not just paying lip service to being bothered by the one but railing against the other) are so frustrated with people saying everyone is welcome but in practice only bending over backwards for the comfort and emotions of themselves, and people they can easily relate to.
You don't have to like Thessaly (I don't. I find her an interesting antagonist, I don't stan her. And frankly that's not the point of her character) but you'll pardon me for feeling more than a bit cynical and side eying people's motivations for what seems a...pretty obvious double standard, on what fictional crimes related to real world issues matter to y'all, and which clearly don't. Either actually bring the same energy to the table for fictional people who committed atrocities, even if against a group you're not part of and thus don't feel the need to empathize with, or just carry on, but accept that you don't have the SLIGHTEST room to talk about cutting characters who do immoral things. And you also need to accept that you look like a hypocrite when you do.
#thessaly#wanda the sandman#hob gadling#I could've cried sexism!!! Problematic Male vs Female Characters except 1) I don't actually think that's the main reason *here*#2) there are WAY better examples of that particular double standard in this fandom#also i can admit when I'm a bit of a hypocrite or was.#i used to dip my toes into the dreamling stuff too early on#but idk. It just got too sour seeing ppl whitewash (lol I know I'm a comedian)#what he did over and over. And I genuinely had started to wonder#if the show hadn't included that particular crime and I'd just imagined it from the comics because#my memory is shit sometimes and I guess I was naive. I *wanted* to believe someone would talk aboutit#if it had made it in. but ultimately i went back and checked and no#and seeing how the whole fandom behaving affected my non-white mutuals some of whom...#like these are my friends man or ppl I just respect and I can't just. Ignore their feelings and their pov#and act like they werent making points or it doesn't matter#like it's all just fun and games for everyone on the same terms. And seeing how easy it was#for everyone to ignore was so unsettling. I couldn't keep pretending it was just fiction and didn't affect anyone real#Call me a bully a t3rf apologist (fuck you and for the record. no)#a puritan or a Fancop (actually stop comparing#people disagreeing with you online to what cops do. For fucks sake you just make it look like nothing is really real to you outside fandom)#whatever man. Whatever helps you sleep. I'm just gonna block you#if you're clearly sticking your fingers in your ears. engaging with you is a waste of time and energy then#Hell I have sympathy for anyone who doesn't like thessaly#especially trans fans. Especially rn. But lbr that sympathy for a lot of the white trans/queer fans only goes one way!!!#never gets extended to anyone else's issues. Like THATSthe issue. And it's shitty!#(sorry this post is not about me in the confessional lol that's why I put this at the bottom#I just had feelings to get out and yes its my blog but i didn't want to clog the airways)
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kaylabrookee · 2 days
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Bridgerton Season 3 Part 1
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How are we feeling so far ?
There were so many moments I was already gigling and smiling at. And the ENDING omg. I'm a little scared of what's going to happen in the second part.
*MILD SPOILERS*
Here are some highlights for me:
Francesca and John Stirling, I was not expecting to like them so much but the way they just love being in eachothers company is so sweet and an introverts dream. I'm excited to see what happens with them. Also is just me or are they neurodiverse/ autistic coded (which I love to see).
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Costuming, I loved Penelopes new wardrobe I think the blues look so lovely on her, and her taking charge of her life was satisfying to watch. I do wish they kept with the darker colour throughout- like the first green dress.
I also simultaneously loved and cringed when Penelope would write the harshest thing ever and then immediately regret it. Honestly relatable tho lol.
Also I just love Violet. She makes me laugh so much and she is always the sweetest. And we might be getting a romance for her too ????
Also Penelopes sisters. I know they are suppose to be these unlikeble evil sisters trope, but I love them. Whenever they are on screen I laugh so much. There cluelessness on everything is so real, if I were in the bridgerton universe I would be them.
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On that, I know I could not live in the bridgerton universe because lord Debling leaving for years at time would be more ideal situation lol. And a nature lover, that's perfect.
Something I didn't like this season was I felt like Collin was forgiven to quickly. I was kind of hoping he would be begging to get back with her and build the tension that way. I wanted more PINING and AGONY from him. We still might yet tho.
I can't wait for the second part !!!!.
(And side note, whoever decided to split this season, just know I'm furious)
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snoos-tattoos · 1 year
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sitting outside at 2 am
looking up at the stars
feeling a cool breeze against my skin
listening to n.flying's 'fate' on repeat
Life is good. ~~
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deadsetobsessions · 4 months
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Danny Fenton is so damn sick of rich fruit loops. It’s worse now, since he’s one of them.
It’s not Vlad that he’s with, thank the Ancients, but Danny isn’t sure that this is better.
Because he’s Timothy Drake, a baby, and he’s been reincarnated after the Ancient of Reincarnation accidentally drank too much wine.
He’s going to kick their ass so hard when he gets back.
Danny huffs. He rolls over, ignoring the silent manor. Sure, he’s read the comics. Sure, he laughed and imagined being adopted by Batman- come on, Danny had black hair and blue eyes even back then, he was totally adoption bait- when his parents gave him reason to lose trust in their love. But that’s it, that’s all he thought it was. A day dream, a wish for a universe that didn’t exist.
Danny hadn’t understood the reality of the whole Infinite Realms thing, a place he was now the King of. Batman? Real. Danny? Reincarnated. Hotel? Trivago.
Like, this wasn’t what he meant, dammit.
And now he’s stuck as Timothy Drake, and Ancients, he was starting to see parallels.
——
Danny tried photography. He really did. He wanted to at least stick to the source material. But that’s not who he is. Even with the shiny new brain that memorized, catalogued, and put together clues at the snap of his fingers, but Danny’s never been one to take photos. It’s a respectable art, for sure, but Danny preferred to live in the moment instead of capturing it to remember forever. It’s just-
He watched the Graysons fall. He watched Dick Grayson turn into Robin. And Danny can’t and won’t ever betray his Obsession like that, ever again. He can’t let Jason die for his “story” to begin. That’s not how Danny works.
He’s there to protect.
Danny hasn’t ever been just Tim. Danny was also Tim and the Ghost King without a haunt. But now? Gotham is his haunt. He, in lieu of an actual city spirit, is Gotham. He’s also a Drake. And Drakes were meant to hoard.
Batman and Robin? They are his.
He claimed them, as a Drake. But that claim is weak. So he claimed them as their city, and that is a claim that will never be able to be challenged.
Danny’ll be damned before he allows some lanky starved clown beat the life out of one of his Robins. So, for the first time in his nine years on this planet, Tim-Danny goes ghost and flies.
“Who- who. Are you?” Robin slurred from his place in Danny’s hold. He is broken, yes. But not dead. Danny infuses some of his vitality, his ecto, into Jason’s injuries to help them heal.
“Gotham.” Danny replied, layering his ghostly voice with those of the city.
“Goth’m?”
“Gotham. Sleep, little bird. Your city has got you.”
When Robin, Jason, settled with a sense of trust that tugs at Danny’s core, Danny carried him to Batman, whose eyes were wild and manic. He glared menacingly at the green and white ghost in front of him, who was holding his broken and beaten son-
Well, it’d be menacing if Danny hadn’t watched him eat bricks and mortar, crashing into a building while using his grappling gun.
“You-”
“I am Gotham.” Danny cut him off. Despite his wary nature and natural paranoia, Batman settled at his city’s gaze rested on him. Danny knew that Batman recognized his city. Batman’s head bowed, but his eyes stayed on Robin. “You were supposed to take care of Robin.”
“I- I know.” And that voice was all Bruce Wayne the Dad instead of Batman the Vigilante. Danny gently placed Robin in Batman’s arms, taking in the tremors as he held his son close.
“Go back, Bruce. And make sure Jason knows how much you love him.”
He laughed as Bruce whipped his head upwards. “I am your city. You are mine as much as I am yours. I’ve known of you before you were born.”
Technically? Not untrue. But Bruce will chalk it up to weird magic shit. It’s not like it’s a secret that Gotham’s kind of curse. Besides, this way, Danny will be able to help out more often. And Bruce won’t be able to connect Tim Drake to the “Spirit of Gotham.”
“Return, my knight. This is not your city. I can not protect you as well as I can in Gotham.”
“Thank you… Gotham.”
Danny sighed. He wondered when he’ll have to field questions from a John Constantine. He’s pretty sure Bruce will call in magical help, even if it was his own city he was investigating.
Batman’s lucky Danny liked him enough to allow it.
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thebibliosphere · 6 months
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There are a lot of things I'm sad about in my life. You don't get to go through the kind of medical trauma I've been through and come out unscathed on the other side.
But one thing I'm really bitter about is that I can't remember my wedding anymore. The pernicious anemia took it from me and wiped my brain clean. Except it's not clean, not really. I remember it in patches. Like red wine stains on a white rug that have never quite lifted out no matter how hard you try.
I look at the pictures on my bookcase, and they feel like remembering a story someone else has told me. There's a young woman in a white dress wearing my face, and she looks happy. I'm happy for her. But you can see the strain around her eyes, too. The pain she's hiding because no one with authority believes her when she says her body doesn't feel right. That something is Wrong.
They won't believe her for another decade. They won't believe her until it's almost too late, and it's that lateness that will rob her of her memories and turn them into a wavering rainbow suspended in the fine haze of watery sunlight that occasionally surfaces through the blanks.
There's one memory that's real, though. Solid. It's not my vows. It's not my father walking me down the aisle. (Though those are there, just hazy and dream-like). It's our first dance.
It's the lights dimming around the room as the staff cleared the floor, causing the fishbowls full of white roses and LED lights on the tables to wobble like pools of moonlight against dark paneled walls.
It's the band inviting us out onto the floor and us giggling because we know what's coming next, and no one else does. It's the twang of a banjo reverberating around the room through the speakers, followed by the dulcet tones of Kermit the Frog wondering why there are so many songs about rainbows.
It's us waltzing around the enclosed circle of light, singing to each other out of tune and grinning like idiots as everyone around us starts to laugh.
It's everyone joining in on the song because it's the Muppets, and everyone knows the words. It's 100+ people singing the Rainbow Connection, some laughing, some a bit tearful, because it's bringing back memories. Because it's making a new one.
It's looking up at my new husband through the brain fog and all the pain in my body and thinking, "I want to remember this moment forever."
I don't know what entity was out there listening to me at that moment and chose to grant that wish. I don't know why this is the one memory that stuck while everything else in my brain got decimated into scattered, fragmented snapshots. But I'm so, so thankful it is.
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xxsabitoxx · 8 months
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Pale Blue [Part One]
Geto Suguru x AFAB Pregnant Reader
READ PART TWO HERE
Warnings: THIS FIC IS CANON COMPLIANT, if you are not caught up on Jujutsu Kaisen's manga, or at the very least if you have not seen "gojo's past" you WILL be spoiled. This story contains darker themes, heavier topics, pregnancy and all the lovely details of it, and lastly explicit sexual content. Read at your own risk!
A/N: Here it is!! Part One!! This fic is super self indulgent for me and I'm very excited for y'all to read it. The idea literally came to me in a dream like a month ago and I woke up and immediately started writing. It's been a long ass time since I've written a plot heavy fic, and it's been well over a year since I've actively planned a multiple part story and gone through with it. So, this fic is kinda like... my baby lol.
Word Count: 19k | Playlist
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September 2007
Your mouth felt like chalk, hands trembling ever so slightly as you set the small wand on the countertop in your bathroom. You couldn't think straight, but that unfortunately wasn’t anything new, it had been that way for the last three weeks. Ever since he left, you had felt like your head was stuck in a fishbowl. People eyeing you with pity at the world you had been dropped into, their whispers muffled into incoherent nonsense as you walked by. Satoru was no better off, but he could at least tug his emotions off of his sleeves and place them in his heart where nobody could see them, except for you. At least you would be able to see them if he didn’t shut you out. 
Not that you had been any kinder, you had withdrawn too. 
The only one who seemed alright was Shoko, her reaction to Suguru’s deflection was nothing out of character. Not many things could shock her to her core, even something as absurd as what Suguru had done couldn’t wipe the gentle smile from her face when she saw him again. You envied her for that level of composure. You envied her for getting to see him again, just as you envied Satoru. For some reason, the man evaded you as if you were the plague. Or perhaps it looked like you were merely chasing after a ghost, a figment of your imagination. You kind of wished that it was true, that Geto Suguru had been someone you conjured up in your mind. 
But he wasn’t, he was a real, breathing human who had taken over one hundred lives…. Including his parents. The thought made your mouth taste like metal, everytime you zoned out too long and thought too hard, you’d bite your inner cheek until it bled. Three weeks later you still felt like you were moving on autopilot, the only thing that could pull you out of it would be his gentle embrace. You blinked a bit, the metallic taste coating your tongue as you unclench your jaw and look in the mirror. You hardly recognize yourself, for a moment  you think you look just like him, and it's enough to steal the little air you had in your lungs. 
You had never thought you'd experience a heartbreak as severe as this one, and you especially didn’t think it would be dealt to you by Suguru. Though you saw all of the signs, the hundreds if not thousands he put out and never let you touch. No, his cries for help were always directed at Satoru. The white haired man never seemed to catch them, and if he did, he never said a thing. Suguru had refused to acknowledge his issues when he was with you, no matter how many times you tried to sit him down and get it out. He’d change the subject and move on. 
He’d sweet-talk you, making you forget why you had been so concerned in the first place because there, for a fleeting moment, was the boy you had fallen in love with two years prior. He’d fill your mind with nothing but good things, pretty noises, good feelings. Not stopping until his name was all you could utter, not stopping until you fell asleep in his arms, content and sedated. He was a master at avoidance, trying so hard to keep things perfect just for you. You were beginning to hate him for it, but even the idea of hating him made bile burn your throat. 
You were left in emotional turmoil, love mixing with hate mixing with rage and depression. No matter how many times the word hate flashed through your mind, it was never truly directed at Suguru. Rather the jujutsu world, the things they had forced upon him, the pressure he had been made to feel. You especially felt that bubbling hate for a certain man by the name of Fushiguro Toji, who caused this whole spiral. He was long gone now, Satoru had effectively put the man down and he would not be getting back up. Though it killed you to no end that he got the easy way out. You almost wished that Satoru had kept the man alive. 
You couldn’t stomach it as your back pressed into the cold wall of your bathroom, arms folded over your chest as you stared at nothing in particular. Eyes refusing to focus on anything of importance but making a point to avoid the developing test on the counter. 
Suguru had left you a note, shortly after his final conversation with Satoru. You had returned to your dorm to see it on your bed and you recognized his handwriting before you even read your name on the envelope. You could still feel your hands trembling as you ripped the paper, flinching as it cut your skin, crumbling as tears dripped down your cheeks. You read it three times before finally comprehending the words, the paper littered with tear drops and your blood. Every word was written with care, you could hear his voice as your eyes passed over each sentence, see his face before you as if he was speaking. 
It was an apology, his resolve and a goodbye all in one. Leaving you more empty than you had felt before. Still, it sat on your nightstand, you couldn’t throw it away. As if his sweaters weren’t still hanging in your closet, like the blanket he got you wasn’t still sitting on your bed. You held onto that letter like it was the last thing you had of him. Mourning him as if he had died, like he wasn’t still alive and breathing and walking around within the very city you were in now. You almost thought it would be easier if he had died. At least you’d feel some sort of closure, knowing he’s not coming back. But this, this was a form of torture for you. 
To know that you could bump into him at a restaurant, or even pass him on a busy street. He wasn’t gone, if anything he was doing better than he ever was. Leaving you, Satoru, Shoko, and everyone else behind to pick up the shattered pieces. Still, you couldn’t hate him for that. No amount of anger would mend the torn pieces of your broken heart. You were fairly certain nothing would, the only cure was the one man you could no longer call your own. You’d spend the rest of your life with your heart ripped wide, an empty void filling the space. 
You inhaled deeply, pushing off the bathroom wall and taking a hesitant step towards the counter. The test was upside down, you couldn’t see the small little window that would show you the results, for a moment you wanted to pick it up and throw it in the trash without even looking. There was nothing stopping you from doing so either, but you held back anyways. The only reason you were taking a pregnancy test in the first place was because your period was two weeks late. You could easily chalk it up to stress, but at the same time you knew all too well that you and Suguru often went without protection. Idiot. 
Somehow, despite his inner battles, Suguru’s sex drive never slowed down. Maybe it was the craving for physical touch or maybe sex was a great way for him to forget about his issues for a while. Regardless, you had always been eager to oblige, even if it meant falling into his traps and luring your attention away from the real issue at hand. You had no idea how long it had been and if the damn thing was positive you were sure it would show up by now. So you picked it up and flipped it over in your hand, tired eyes scanning it. Your forehead creased for a moment, eyes squinting in frustration because you couldn’t tell if there was a second line or not. 
If it’s positive, it's too early to tell. Your grip tightens around the small plastic test, anger flooding your heart as you chuck it in the trash can with such force it rattles as it hits the wall. Once again you are left with uncertainty. It seemed nobody could give you a straight answer anymore. Truth be told, you weren’t sure what you wanted that test to say. The thought of being pregnant with his child would have elated you two months ago. Now the thought made your insides twist and turn, for a moment you thought you were going to puke again. At the very same time, the idea of the test being negative felt like a rug being pulled out from under you. 
As if you didn’t know that feeling well enough. 
In a twisted way, you thought that being pregnant would bring him back to you. As if it would erase every heinous crime he had committed and bring the man you loved back into your arms. You were foolish, but not foolish enough to really believe in those daydreams. You hauled yourself out of your bathroom and back into your dorm room, falling into your disheveled bed with a soft thump. His t-shirt was hanging loosely on your body, it still smells faintly of him. It’s the only shirt of his that you’d been wearing, too afraid to lose his scent on the others. 
It was still early enough for you to sleep for a few more hours before Shoko was knocking on your door and hauling you into the world. You hated it, but she assured you that you’d thank her for it in a couple months. You doubted it, and for some reason you felt like she did too. 
Your sleep was dreamless, it had been since Suguru left you. You weren’t quite sure if you were thankful for that or not. Suguru was still the last thing you thought about before falling asleep and the first thing you thought of when you woke up. His absence consumed your every thought, impossible to ignore, unable to forget. There had been a few tough nights where you dragged yourself down the hall towards Satoru’s room. The man was usually still up, sitting on his bed with a book in hand that you could tell he wasn’t reading. Just an attempt at distraction. 
He welcomes you without a word, scooting over a bit so you could sit beside him, head on his shoulder as he tosses the book to the floor. You remain like that until you fall asleep, no words spoken but nothing needed to be verbalized to understand you were both mourning the loss of a man who wasn’t even dead. In an odd way, you felt as if you were mourning Satoru as well. His smile, his jokes, the way his eyes seemed to sparkle, all of those things had dwindled. To his credit, he was managing to pull himself back together, at least better than you had been. 
A harsh knock at your door signaled that Shoko was there. You hadn’t even realized that you fell asleep, but you felt even more groggy than you had a couple hours prior. “I’m up.” It’s hoarse and unconvincing but you hear Shoko utter a small “ok”. You know she’s still there, she always waits for you to get dressed and emerge from your room yourself. If you make her wait any longer than fifteen minutes she's usually barging in herself to pull you from your bed. Your body aches as you sit up, stumbling across the room to the bathroom because you need to pee yet again. 
The air almost feels stale as you get your routine done in the bathroom, the test is still sitting in the small can beside your sink. It’s presence is heavy, to the point you question if you should take it out with you despite only having a couple tissues accompanying it. You decided against it when she knocked again. “Just getting dressed.” You mumbled softly, listening for her small “Hmph.” At least letting you know she heard you. Your uniform still felt foreign on your skin, it had for the last three weeks but you tried to ignore it. “About time.” Shoko smiled as you emerged, Satoru beside her. “Oh? You’re both here?” Your tone was questioning but not mad. 
“Yeah, Yaga said we should take the day to be normal or something like that.” Satoru drawled, circular glasses sliding down his nose as he rolled his eyes. “Us? Normal?” You snorted, pulling your door shut as Shoko began walking down the hallway. “He just doesn’t know what to do with us at the moment.” Satoru offered in a low tone, Shoko would scold him for speaking like that, especially to you. The thing is, he wasn’t saying anything that you hadn’t already thought of yourself. “I don’t know what to do with us either.” You could assume Yaga was being vigilant, the guilt of not seeing what was happening with Suguru was weighing on him too. 
The flick of Shoko’s lighter was heard as you stepped into the morning air, laughter bubbling in your chest as you looked at her. “It was killing you, wasn’t it.” Yaga had been cracking down on her bad habit, trying to limit her by saying no smoking in the dorms. “Just a little.” She teased back, inhaling deeply before blowing the gray smoke past her lips. “Shoko, gimme one.” Your eyebrow cocked as Satoru stuck his hand out. Her eyes met you for a moment before begrudgingly handing the lighter and pack to him. “New habit?” You commented softly, watching as he stuck a cylinder between his lips and held his hand up to block the flame from the wind. 
Satoru shrugged, inhaling a bit before blowing out, moving to hand the pack to you. You hesitated, the test in your dorm trash can still lingering in the back of your mind. “I’m good.” You took them anyway, handing them to Shoko. Neither of them said anything but they shared a knowing glance, they couldn’t be mad at you for trying to quit a bad habit. “So where are we going?” You didn’t like the prolonged silence as the two of them puffed away. “I didn’t think you’d want to go anywhere, but if you want we can go get breakfast.” Shoko’s eyes flickered over both you and Satoru, as if she was looking at two temperamental children. 
“Breakfast sounds good.” Satoru offered, shoving one hand in his pocket while the other plucked the cig from his lips. “It does.” You added softly, stomach turning at the very thought of food but you couldn’t let them know that. You had lost your appetite shortly after he left, but you still forced yourself to eat at least one substantial meal a day. The nausea that had settled in your gut most days usually deterred you from anything else but plain rice and maybe some soup. Still, it was food and the only thing you could keep down at that. “Alright, I’ll call for a driver and we can go get something to eat.” Shoko pulled out her phone, clicking on a number she saved. 
“You’ve been eating, right?” You jumped a little, eyes sliding over to Satoru. His tone was low, just low enough for only you to hear. “Yeah, I’ve been eating… you?” He looked the same, tall and lean with broad shoulders. Satoru nodded, pushing his glasses up to sit on the bridge of his nose. “The car will be at the gates for us in five minutes so let's get going.” Shoko started walking, like always you and Satoru followed behind her like ducklings. Satoru’s question still lingered in your mind, his ability to read your thoughts nearly rivaled Suguru. 
You had to wonder just how much those six eyes of his could see. 
The three of you clamored into the car, Satoru taking the passenger seat while you and Shoko took the back. You had no idea where you were going, not even when Shoko gave an address to the driver. It was somewhere in the city, you knew that much, but you trusted her judgment and prayed they would have something plain for your stomach. None of you spoke as the car barreled forward, your eyes glued to the surroundings zipping past you, as if you’d catch him walking down the street on a busy morning. You knew you’d always be looking for him, everywhere you went, your eyes would search for him. 
You tore your eyes from the window, glancing at Satoru in the passenger seat. You couldn’t see his eyes, but his head was turned towards the window. If you had to guess, he was doing the very same thing. Looking for someone who would never appear. Unless you were Shoko of course, you still felt your throat tighten at the thought. You knew Suguru had chosen to reveal himself to her for a couple reasons. One being that she wasn’t nearly strong enough to take him down single handedly. The other being her easy going nature, he knew there would be little to no conflict or questions to answer with her. If roles were reversed, you’d do the same. 
“Hello?” You blinked, looking at Shoko with parted lips. “You okay?” her head tilted, brown eyes lingering over your features. “I… yeah.” You swallowed, the car was still moving so you didn’t space out for that long. “What are you in the mood to eat?” She repeated the question she had asked seconds prior while you were clearly on another plane of existence. “Something plain.” You offered lamely, hands clasping together in your lap. “Plain?” Satoru questioned, eyes shifting to look at you through the rearview mirror. “My stomach has been sensitive. Plain foods are all I can really get down right now.” You shrunk into the seat. 
Shoko hummed, eyes observing you intently now. You could almost hear her silently listing all of your physical symptoms, noting in her head the various things that could cause them. Most could be answered with heartbreak, but that didn’t typically make you sensitive to certain foods. Shoko and Satoru knew of Suguru's relationship with you. They knew you were serious about each other, that you often slept in the other’s dorm depending on the day. They knew you went on dates and bought each other gifts. They knew you had long since confessed your love to one another and were not strangers to holding hands when you thought nobody was looking. 
It didn’t take a genius to figure out that the two of you slept together as well. 
~
“Quiet.” You sunk your teeth into the side of your cheek, struggling to stifle your noises as Suguru’s fingers curled inside of your tight heat. “You don’t want them to hear us, right?” he cooed again, lips ghosting the shell of your ear as he pressed you harder into the empty desk, nearly pushing it into the wall of the classroom with the ferocity of his hunger. 
You shook your head, not trusting your voice in that moment to make any coherent sounds. Your nails dug into his bicep, legs splayed hazardously over the sides of the desk as you used your free hand to brace yourself. Two fingers continued to plunge in and out of you, curling perfectly and sucking the air from your lungs as he found that one particular spot. 
Suguru watched in fascination, dark eyes glazed over as they flickered between his hand and your face. Each draw back revealed the slick shine of your arousal on his digits, each push forward was accompanied by a squelch. It made his throat tight, arousal making him feel hot all over as he continued to fuck you with his fingers. 
“Sugu…” You choked, face warming considerably as you realized how desperate you sounded. “Hmm?” a gentle hum, his fingers burying deep and massaging your walls until your thighs twitched. “I need you.” Your head fell back, hand leaving his bicep to slap over your mouth in an attempt to silence the cry that left you. “You…need me?” 
Those words were jarring to him, as if a chain of firecrackers had been ignited under his skin. You nodded, helpless and at his mercy as you prayed Satoru and Shoko wouldn’t wander off to figure out where the two of you had gone. You couldn’t quite comprehend what happened next, the sudden retreat of his fingers left you feeling empty, clearing your foggy mind for a second. 
They were quickly replaced with something else, something wet and soft. Your eyes widened considerably when you looked down to see Suguru on his knees, hands gripping the plush of your thighs with his face buried between. He would have given you more if it weren't for his damn pants, he was too impatient to struggle with the high waisted fashion choices he made. 
You couldn’t think again, mind immediately fogging over as you focused solely on Suguru’s head between your legs. The flat of his tongue licking up your folds before delving further, bumping your clit with his nose and earning a strangled noise from you. You bit down on your fist now, not hard enough to draw blood but enough to silence yourself for a bit. 
Suguru didn’t mind, if anything he wanted them to hear you. He wanted to see the shocked look on Satoru’s face when he realized what was happening. He couldn’t lie, this whole rendezvous had started because of an offhand comment Satoru made. One about how he was likely better at pleasing women than Suguru. You knew that's why you were in here too, you felt like you needed to thank Satoru for pushing Suguru to this point, whether that was his intention or not. 
Heat continued to build in your gut, if you could trust yourself to stay balanced you would have let go of the desk and buried your hand in his hair. You wanted to tug the silky black locks from the confines of the bun he always kept them in, watch them cascade around his handsome face and turn messy because of your fingers. Then again, that may make it a little too obvious to your two awaiting friends. “Sugu…” 
You gasped, hand flying from your mouth to grab the desk as you nearly lost your balance. Suguru had started to stand, knocking you back as his arms wrapped around your lower half in a bear hug. Suguru was standing at his full height now, your knees bent over his shoulders while only your mid-back and shoulders pressed into the desk. You could have melted into a puddle the moment his eyes met yours, his mouth still pressed firmly to your cunt. 
“Suguru…” You choked again, hands moving to grip the sides of the desk for some kind of grounding. You could feel him smirk, eyes burning into yours as his tongue lavished you. It was all too much, too lewd, too risky. Your orgasm was building faster than you anticipated, the tingling arousal shooting down your spine and making your legs tense as he teased you. You came with a choked cry of his name, eyes squeezing shut as you rode out your orgasm. 
~
“We’re here.” You blinked, eyes scanning your surroundings as Satoru got out of the car. “Are you sure you’re okay? We can get the food to go and head back to campus.” Shoko’s words were out of concern but her tone was still relaxed. “I’m alright, I could use some time in a busy space.” You lied, the quiet of your dorm room had never sounded so inviting. “Thank you.” You muttered softly to the driver, his small smile told you he was well aware of what was going on. Satoru was already by the front door of the cafe, putting out the butt of his cigarette on a nearby trash can before dropping it in. Shoko did the same, following after you as you entered. 
Satoru’s looks tended to come in handy, his glasses sliding down his nose to show the startling blue of his eyes was all that was needed to get the three of you a seat and bypass the wait. “At least you’re good for something.” You teased him, watching him roll his eyes before smiling. “It’s my duty to get the two of you quick service and good food, even if I have to whore myself out.” For some reason, that had laughter bubbling in your chest, the genuine kind. “Such a noble sacrifice.” You laughed, the menu in your hand shaking as your shoulders bounced. You were too distracted to see the way Satoru’s shoulders seemed to sag in relief as he watched you, for a moment it was like nothing had changed.
If it weren't for the gaping, empty space in the booth beside him, he would have been convinced. 
“What are you going to get, Shoko?” She was the only one actively looking over the menu. “I’m not sure yet, but they do have some options that would be easy on your stomach.” You weren’t sure why but it made your heart ache just a bit, she had been more concerned over your meal than her own. At the very same time, it made you feel small, like you were a bit of a nuisance for having stomach issues… or whatever they were… in the first place. “Oh, alright.” You focused on the menu, aware of their eyes on you as you tried to find something small but appealing. You settled on tamagoyaki and asked for it to be made on the salty side rather than sweet. 
Shoko went for a traditional meal as well while Satoru ventured into their “western” cuisine. His choice sounded so sweet that the thought of it made your teeth hurt. “I don’t know how you do it, Satoru.” you sipped your tea slowly, letting the hot liquid slide down your throat and settle in your stomach. He only shrugged, smiling softly “I’ve yet to find something too sweet for me to handle.” Normally he would have added something flirty but he decided against it. Despite knowing you and Suguru were a couple, it never stopped Satoru’s flirtatious comments. It only bothered Suguru a little bit but he knew his best friend would never cross that kind of line. 
“You may go into cardiac arrest before you meet your match, Satoru.” Shoko snorted, sipping her coffee as she took in the surroundings of the busy cafe. For a moment, you wondered if she was doing what you and Satoru had been subconsciously doing for the last three weeks. “I keep waiting for him to appear.” Your tone was just barely above a whisper, as if even bringing up his existence would cause the world to implode around you. “Me too.” Shoko spoke softly, eyes still looking anywhere but the two of you. Satoru kept quiet, face unusually somber as he sipped his coffee. “I think I’ll eventually go insane.” 
You tried to sound lighthearted but the crack in your voice gave the opposite effect. 
Satoru’s eyes flickered up at that, making your shoulders shrink into the booth. You had quickly come to learn that both of your friends were treating you like fragile porcelain. Though you partially felt the same when talking to them, especially Satoru. Despite the frequent and long nights with each other, little to no words were ever spoken. “I’m fine.” You tried, voice a little stronger than before. “We can talk about these things without falling apart.” It sounded like you were trying to convince yourself more than them. Before anyone could speak, the waiter was walking over with your food, effectively stopping any further discussion. 
“Satoru…” You choked as the waiter walked away, eyes focused on the sugary, gooey concoction on the plate before him. “That’s your ticket to the ER.” Shoko was gawking at it too, a bite of food already halfway to her mouth. Satoru, on the other hand, looked like a kid on christmas morning, glasses sliding down his nose with a smile on his face. Your stomach grumbled as he cut into the pancakes, the feeling making you jump just a bit. You actually felt hungry, mouth watering as you looked down at your own plate and moved to take a bite. 
Silence fell over the table as you all ate, within minutes half of your food was gone and you were quietly wishing you had ordered something a little bigger.
“You need a napkin.” You laughed softly, handing Satoru your spare napkin so he could wipe the syrup off of his cheek. “Thanks.” For some reason you couldn't help but think he looked like a little kid. For another reason you couldn’t quite explain, it made sadness sink into your shoulders. He should be here with the three of you, eating and laughing and bringing you the comfort you always looked for in him. Your hands shook as you moved to eat more, not willing to let the surge of emotion get rid of the appetite you rarely had nowadays. 
As you finished your plate, you felt the bubbling wave of nausea build in your stomach. You inhaled slowly, trying to find a way to ease your worries and keep your food down. “Are you okay? You look a little green.” Shoko eyed you with concern, not even a second later Satoru was signaling the waiter for the check. “Y-yeah… told you my stomach was sensitive. That’s the most I've eaten at once in the last three weeks.” You couldn’t stand the embarrassment of making a scene or wasting money on the food you had just consumed. “I’ll be back.” You slipped out of the booth, your friend’s concerned eyes zeroing in on you as you disappeared for the bathroom. 
Luckily for you the bathroom was empty, the fluorescent lights making you flinch as you stumbled to the sink and turned the water on cold. You leaned over it, hands and wrists submerged under the running stream, chest heaving with the effort to remain calm. You were desperate to keep the food down, so desperate you could feel sweat forming on your temple as you tried to focus on anything but the nausea. Suguru’s face flashed through your mind and for a moment you were convinced your knees would give out from under you. 
~
“I told you to take it easy.” He huffs softly, fingers running through your hair as he rakes it away from your face. Carefully, he’s looping one of his elastics around your hair to keep it in place. Your head is still buried in the toilet, you had just finished throwing up for the third time in the last hour. “Are you still with me?” His hand is on your back now, rubbing slow but deliberate circles. Feebly you give him a thumbs up, throat burning from the sting of alcohol coming back up. 
“You didn’t eat much today and then you went and got shit-faced with Shoko.” Suguru stated the obvious, trying not to scold you because he knew you weren’t doing good right now. “I don’t think you have anything else to puke up, do you want some water?” You lifted your head now, reaching for toilet paper to wipe your mouth. “Water sounds good.” Your voice was weaker than Suguru had expected it to sound, his heart aching a bit as he sat beside you on the bathroom floor. 
“I’ll be right back, okay? Just yell if you get scared and I’ll be by your side before you know it.” You nodded, thanking him softly as he got up and disappeared out of your bathroom. You were only seventeen at the time, acting far older than you were and thinking you could get away with it. Now, you are facing the consequences of being naive. Typical for someone your age. Suguru had returned in under two minutes, handing you a glass of room temperature water. “It’ll be easier on your stomach at this temperature.” He chuckled as you grimaced. 
He moved to grab a washcloth from your cabinet, turning the sink water on cold. “And this…” he wrung it out twice before turning off the water “will help focus your attention on something other than the nausea.” He placed the cloth on the back of your neck, watching your shoulders sag in relief as something finally cooled your clammy skin. “Thanks, Sugu.” 
~
“Sugu… I’m scared.” Your voice was barely audible, tears burning your eyes as you squeezed them shut. Somehow it was working, your pain outshining the nausea as you tried to stop yourself from sobbing in the middle of the restroom. A year had passed since that moment in time, you were only eighteen now and yet you felt as if you had grown a decade. Yet, you were reduced to a scared and crying child because of nausea. Get it together. You forced yourself to straighten, hands slightly numb under the current of cold water. 
You forced yourself to make eye contact with your reflection, observing how stark the dark circles were under your eyes. Shoko had been right, you did look a bit green, but it was fading steadily as everything subsided. You let your hands sit under the water for a minute longer before bending over the sink and splashing some on your face. The door to the restroom opened as you straightened again, Shoko was looking at you with worry. “Did you get sick?” you shook your head, turning the water off and reaching for the paper towels. 
“Managed to fight it off… for now.” 
“Satoru paid already, there is a convenient store a couple shops down. We can get you some nausea meds and a barf bag for the ride back… just in case.” You nodded, smiling a bit. “That would probably be a good idea.” you followed her out of the bathroom and through the restaurant, Satoru was standing on the sidewalk with a new cigarette between his lips. “Damn, you really did develop a new habit.” He only shrugged, inhaling deeply before blowing more out. “I’ll get over it at some point.” Knowing him and his will-power, he probably would. 
“I’ll call for the driver, Satoru take her to the convenient store and I’ll catch up.” Satoru nodded, saluting her with a quick “yes ma’am” before grabbing your hand and dragging you along. You didn’t speak until Shoko was out of earshot. “Do you think it’s going to get better?” You appreciated the weight of his hand in yours, though you were certain he could feel how clammy it was. “I think it’ll get more bearable with time.” not better, but tolerable. The thought had your chest feeling heavy as you stepped inside of the small store. 
“Nausea meds and barf bags.” Satoru chuckled, reading the signs above each aisle until he spotted one that seemed like a good start. “You’ll have to see a doctor if this doesn’t ease up… how long has it been going on anyways?” You shuffled behind him, arms crossing due to him letting them go a moment prior. “Shortly after he left, after I found the letter.” Only Satoru knew about the letter that had been left behind. How Suguru managed to get back onto campus and leave it in your dorm was beyond him. You had even let him read it, breaking his heart again. 
“Shoko!” Satoru called, noticing her walk down the aisle before you could even turn your head. “I’m not good with this stuff, what should we get?” Satoru had already grabbed a box of blue cylindrical barf bags for you but the actual meds were basically foreign to him. “I’ll handle it from here, Satoru. You can wait in the car, he should be upfront by now.” Satoru’s brows furrowed, so did yours, but the look in Shoko’s eyes had him shrugging and handing the box to you. “Alright then, I’ll see ya out there.” 
He whistled as he strolled by, your eyes narrowing on Shoko. “What’s this about?” you watched her shuffle through the shelves, picking up one and reading the box before setting it down and moving onto the next. “I don’t know what you mean.” She commented offhandedly, plucking another box and reading it before sighing. “This one should work.” She turned, handing it to you while motioning you to follow her down the aisle. You read it over, nothing out of the ordinary so you truly couldn’t figure out what made this one different from the others. 
You stopped short when Shoko did, eyes scanning the aisle and feeling your stomach drop. “Shoko–” You sighed, she was standing in front of the pregnancy tests. “Listen, I know it’s probably the last thing you want to even think about but I think you should take one.” She was grabbing a box of the cheap tests, the same test that was still residing in the trash can of your bathroom. “Shoko, it's not necessary.” You couldn't bring yourself to tell her you already took one, for some reason you couldn’t tell her it was negative either. 
“I’ll buy them, and you’ll keep them. If this nausea doesn’t subside in like two weeks, I’m forcing you to take them.” You felt your face burning, clutching the nausea meds tightly in your hands as you looked away from her. “Fine.” You sighed, head tilted at her shoes as you followed her up front to the register. Everything was placed neatly in a brown bag so nobody could see the contents. Once in the car, you popped open the barf bags just to keep one ready in the event your nausea returned full force. “I figured you would forget this.” 
You looked up to see Satoru handing you a bottle of water, your lips parting in surprise. “You know me well, Satoru. I did forget.” you took it from him, grabbing the box of nausea meds and ripping them open. You took them and sighed, gulping down water when you realized how thirsty you had been. “If we have nothing else to do today, I think I’ll take a nap.” You were aching for your bed, more tired now than you had been after any missions. “Alright but we’ll wake you up for dinner if we don’t hear from you.” Shoko smiled, cracking the window to light a cig. 
“It’s not even 11am yet.” you snorted. “Yeah but you can sleep like the dead when you really need it, if we don’t wake you, you’ll sleep straight through till tomorrow.” You opened your mouth to deny it, about to use your frequent bathroom breaks as an excuse but stopped yourself. Saying that would only confirm the very thing Shoko was suspicious of. “Alright, fine, whatever.” You resigned with a playful huff, arms crossing as you turned to look out the window. Luckily for you, you managed to make it through the ride without needing to use the bag. 
“I’ll see you later.” You called after them, waving as you headed for the dorms. They both waved back, finding shade under a tree to enjoy more of the sunny morning. You felt your shoulders sagging with each step, your social battery diminished far faster now that Suguru wasn’t always by your side. You had almost grown a bit too dependent on him, thinking he would be a constant in your life. You inhaled shakily, the brown bag crumbling between your fingers as your emotions bubbled to the surface yet again. You couldn't seem to get yourself to your dorm fast enough, hot tears slipping down your cheeks as you shoved the key in the lock. 
It came in heavy waves, making you feel weak as you could only succumb to the sadness festering in your chest. You dropped the bag by the door, kicking off your shoes and shouldering off your uniform jacket. Moving on autopilot, you drew your curtains shut and took off the rest of your clothing, sliding his shirt over your head until you were enveloped in his scent. You were gasping for air by the time your body hit the mattress, curling in on yourself as you sobbed. “I miss you.” You hiccuped, rubbing your eyes as if it would stop the tears. 
God dammit, Suguru, why did you have to do this?
You buried your head in your pillow, trying to drown out your own feelings before sadness turned to anger and you ripped your whole room apart because of it. 
~
“Stop wiggling so much.” His voice sounded like gravel, rumbling the back of your head as he spoke. “Can’t help it.” You retorted, trying your best to settle into a comfortable position. Suguru had you wrapped in a bear hug, his favorite form of affection, especially since he knew you couldn’t get out of his grasp. His arms were covered in thick muscles, something you initially didn't expect because his uniform and choice of baggy clothing typically hid them.
 You could use all your strength and his grip wouldn’t falter.  
“Why not?” he mumbled again, if you had to guess, his eyes were closed as he spoke. “Cause it’s warm, Sugu.” you were both laying on top of the covers, little to no clothing on because of the heat and the broken air conditioning that the school was still trying to fix. Nothing but an old fan swiveling side to side to create some sort of relief. Still, Suguru couldn’t sleep unless you were pressed flush to him, warm or not. “It’s not that bad.” 
“Oh it absolutely is.” you immediately countered, turning your head back to try and look at him. “It could be way worse.” he tried again, fingers thrumming against your side. “Yeah, it could, but it could also be better. Like if you let me go for example.” You wiggled a bit, trying to create space before he pulled you tightly to him again. “Nice try, it’s not happening.” You groaned, going limp in his arms as he began to laugh. “I could totally make it worse for you.” He added softly, lips ghosting your ear. Despite the heat, you shivered. 
“The weirdest things turn you on, Sugu.” 
“Hey, it’s not nice to call yourself weird.” 
You slapped his arm, earning another rumble of laughter as he moved to hover over you. “C’mon, if I make you sweat, it’ll make the breeze from the fan feel colder.” You rolled your eyes, studying his features as he looked down at you, hair framing his face and ghosting yours. “That’s counterproductive, you know.” Your hands were running up his biceps anyway, moving to wrap around his neck and pull him close to you. “Maybe it is, but you can’t say I’m wrong.” 
His head was lowering, giving into your pull with no hesitation. “You’re right, I can’t say you’re wrong. But… I want to.” You smile, pulling him further until your lips melt together. He was radiating warmth, his teeth grazing your bottom lip to ask for entrance. Your lips parted, hands snaking up into his hair and tugging at the strands until he groaned. Suguru braced himself on one hand, making the mattress dip just by your head. The rest of his weight was settled on his knees, caging your hips in so you truly couldn’t get away from him. Not that you wanted too now. 
You felt small beneath him, his bare skin radiating warmth as he used his free hand to push your shirt up. You could ignore the heat for the time being, more focused on the steady beating from between your thighs. “Sugu…” You parted with a gasp, watching him lean up and pull you with him, allowing him to drag your shirt over your head and toss it to the floor before pushing you down again. His lips didn’t return to yours, instead they moved to your neck, kissing along your pulse point until you were whining. “Quiet, baby, don’t forget we’re in my room.” 
Satoru was asleep next door, that realization set in like ice water being dumped over your head. “Suguru.” You choked as his head dipped lower, licking along your collarbone before moving to one of your breasts. He wasn’t going to answer you, and you knew that for a fact by the way his lips curled into a smirk against your skin. “You’re evil.” You gasped, hand fisting his hair tightly as he scraped his teeth along your breast, nipping at the soft skin. Your other hand found its home on his shoulder, nails scratching lightly as his muscles flexed under your grasp. 
You sunk your teeth into your cheek when his lips wrapped around your perked nipple, arousal making it pebble slightly as he sucked. Suguru’s tongue lavished your skin, flicking the bud until your back was arching into his touch. It wasn’t nearly enough, your breath coming out in short pants as you tried to pry him off and focus on your other breast. “These would look so pretty if they were full of milk.” You choked, eyes wide as he looked up at you through his lashes. “Don’t you think?” You couldn’t breathe for a moment, stunned into silence by his comment. 
“C’mon baby, don’t act so shocked.” He cooed softly, the tip of his tongue trailing up your sternum. He didn’t stop until he reached your lips, kissing them softly before dipping his head again. His hand toyed with the breast he had just teased endlessly, brown eyes observing the rate of your breathing before lowering onto your other breast. He repeated the same motions, nipping and sucking the senstive skin until you were squirming from the wetness between your legs.
“You haven't answered me, sweetheart.”
“B-because I don’t know how to answer that, Sugu.” You knew exactly what he was implying, but you couldn’t form a coherent response for him. “You just have to tell me if you agree, it’s pretty simple.” He chuckled, pushing himself up to look down at you. Your hands fell to your sides, his neck just out of your reach. “Just think about it, pretty girl.” You watched him, completely entranced as he pulled his briefs down and his erection sprang free. “Because I’ve been thinking about it a lot.” 
“You have?” You sat up a bit, fingers shakily pulling off your own underwear to save time. “I have.” He confirmed, cheeks turning a shade of red that you could see even in the moonlight. His hand slid along his length, spreading the precum drooling from his tip while his boxers rested at his mid-thigh. “Take those off, Sugu.” You smiled a bit, reaching for the waistband and pulling them taut before letting them snap back against his thigh. “So demanding.” He snorted, letting himself go to push the material off, tossing it to the floor just as you had done with your underwear. 
“So are you, demanding an answer for something so…so…” you couldn’t find the right words, not when his eyes were on you, devouring you whole. “…so what? How does it make you feel?” He redirected, pumping himself leisurely as your thighs fell open for him, still supporting yourself on your elbows as you waited. “How does what make me feel?” A stupid question but you were still reeling from the initial statement. Suguru laughed, hand still gliding over his length as he sat on his knees.
“How does it feel knowing I think about getting you pregnant… all the fucking time.” You couldn’t deny the thought made you feel hot, hotter than you felt from the heat and arousal mixing. Like molten lava was running its way through your bloodstream. “F-feels fucking…” you squirmed a bit, legs moving to close involuntarily until his hand shot out and stopped them. “Go on, pretty girl. Tell me.” You sat up, glaring at him with warm cheeks. “How about you fuck me. Then, maybe, I’ll tell you how I feel about your little fantasies.” Suguru groaned, head falling forward for a moment. 
“Sounds like a good deal to me.” He moved forward, pressing you back into the mattress as he pulled your thighs towards him. Your lips found his neck, sucking on it harshly as he ran the dull head of his cock between your slick folds. You let him move you however he pleased, your legs being pushed almost painfully to your chest as he pressed into you. You gasped in unison, his cock stretching you open easily despite no prep. “Shit…” his head fell forward again, nearly bumping yours as he bottomed out, no space left between the two of you. 
Suguru stayed in place, eyes shut as he focused on the way your walls fluttered and squeezed around him, unable to stay still. Your nails dug into his scalp, pulling a groan from his lips as you tried to relax but couldn’t. He was big, bigger than any fling or partner you had in the past. No matter how easily your cunt accepted him, it still stung for the first few seconds. You had grown to love the deep ache, the weight of him inside you, the way his tip would brush your cervix depending on the position. Like now, with your legs pressed so tightly to your body. 
“Can I move?” his voice was soft, eyes peering into your own once he gained his composure. “Y-yeah.” You breathed out, the feeling of his hands on your skin still sent shockwaves of arousal through you. Especially when his grip tightened, bracing himself on you as he drew his hips back half way before rolling into you again. You moaned, eyes squeezing shut as Suguru found his rhythm, hips meeting yours with a soft slap. “D-Don’t forget Satoru is…” You wailed softly, pleasure building quickly as he moved. “I know…” 
But the smirk on his face told you he no longer cared, he’d gladly listen to his white-haired best friend bitch and moan in the morning about being woken up by you. Suguru’s rhythm only sped up, hips angling perfectly to brush along that one particular spot as he thrust into you, cock head brushing your cervix every few thrusts until your vision was blurring. The pleasure ebbing through your body was more than enough to block out how uncomfortable your current position was. 
A wet squelch started to emit between your legs, loud enough to be heard over the drone of the fan as Suguru pounded into you. “So…” he started, voice strained as sweat dripped down his temple. “... can you tell me how it makes you feel now?” You blinked, awestruck that he was still hooked on getting an answer from you. “S-suguru…” you whined, head falling further into the pillows. “I’m not letting it go…ha… Tell me how it makes you feel.” he ground out, hips slowing just a bit. When you didn’t speak, he pressed more of his weight into you so one hand could break free. 
You moaned, loud and unrestrained as his fingers ghosted across your swollen clit, the sudden contact making you see stars. “Tell me how it makes you feel.” he repeated, watching your face go slack as his fingers and hips worked in tandem. “Makes me hot…” You admitted with a heavy breath, eyes struggling to focus on him. “I want you to do it, Sugu… fuck me till I’m pregnant.” The look on his face had you shrinking further into the mattress, an almost animalistic look taking over his eyes as he stopped moving all together. “Say it again.” 
“I want you to fuck me ‘til I’m pregnant, Suguru.”  
~
You woke up in a sweat, gasping for air as you stumbled out of bed and barreled to the bathroom. You couldn’t stop the nausea this time, knees hitting the tile floor with bruising force as you heaved into the toilet. You hadn’t even remembered falling asleep, but your dream was enough to send you into a death spiral. Tears burned your eyes as the little bit of breakfast you hadn’t digested came back up. Luckily for you, you had slept long enough that your food from this morning wasn’t a total loss. Nothing more than bile was left as you finally calmed down. 
You reached for toilet paper, wiping your tears and blowing your nose until you could at least breath without difficulty. Aching, you got up, flushing the toilet and washing your hands and face. You had no idea what time it was but you assumed it wasn’t late enough for dinner if Shoko never came to wake you up. At least that’s what you thought as you stumbled back into your dorm room slightly sweaty. That’s odd… The sun had begun to set just beyond your window, your eyes flickering to your alarm clock. 7:23pm stared back at you in big red numbers. 
I slept for over eight hours? You looked for your phone, seeing the missed text from Shoko. 
Shoko: I decided against waking you up, I figured you could use the sleep. Just text me when you’re awake and I can bring you dinner
You were partially grateful for her decision, your face still warm as your dream lingered in your mind. Dreaming of the past, how cliche. You sighed, sitting on the edge of your bed. You had woken up so suddenly, adrenaline blocking out the sleepiness at first. Now, your body seemed to thrum with a dull ache, the headrush coming back around to kick you while you were down. You reached over to turn on the small lap residing on your nightstand, eyes squinting for a moment as you adjusted. Your eyes focused on the brown bag from earlier, the one you discarded on your floor after coming back. 
You knew there was water in there still, so you got up and grabbed it, looking at the bag contents in disdain. You emptied it on your desk, nausea meds, barf bags and the box of pregnancy tests. You studied then as you gulped down some of the water, easing the burn in your throat. The pregnancy tests Shoko had insisted on were identical to the one you took this morning. Weirdly enough you wished she had grabbed the more expensive digital ones. That way you wouldn't have to strain yourself trying to figure out if a second line was present or not. 
“Fuck it.” you sighed, dropping the now empty water bottle in the small barrel you kept beside your desk. You still had one more test in the box from this morning, you’d take another one just because of the memories lingering on your mind. Your face felt warm as you recalled that particular night from a few months back. Suguru had been pretty adamant after that, fucking you raw and in ernest with every intention of knocking you up. You, stupidly, let him because you love him and loved the idea of having a family with him. “Idiot.” 
You scolded yourself again, ripping the foil wrapper and tossing it in your trash with the now empty box. You went through the same process as you did that morning, peeing into a cup and dipping the absorbent end into it for ten seconds before capping it and discarding the rest of the contents. You forced yourself to leave the bathroom this time, convinced it would make time go by faster. The text Shoko had sent was still left unanswered, you couldn’t even bring yourself to feel hungry at that moment in time. 
You’d text her in a little while though, or else she’d likely come breaking your door down thinking you had run away. Just then, your phone vibrated with the ringtone you had set for Satoru. You grabbed it, flipping it open to see what he had to say. On the screen there was a message from him, asking if you wanted to hang out on the rooftop to watch the stars later on. You smiled a bit, it was rare for Satoru to ask things so formally. You clicked out a message, telling him yes and that you could use some fresh air. 
It took him no time at all to send a happy emoticon, one that had you rolling your eyes as you typed back that you’d meet him at his dorm when you were ready. You backed out of the chat, eyes lingering on a particular contact, your message to him was naturally left unanswered. You had given up texting Suguru’s number when the messages no longer got delivered. You figured he’d discard his phone, throw away any direct contact he had with the three of you. You snapped your phone shut a moment later, you’d text Shoko after you got dressed.
Opening your closet was still proving to be a bit difficult, especially as your fingers trailed over the material of the clothing Suguru had kept in your room. They smelt like the laundry detergent he used as well as his cologne, it took your breath away for a moment. You forced yourself away, grabbing some comfortable clothes that were actually yours before shutting the door. You didn’t think you’d ever be able to discard his clothing, despite knowing he wasn’t coming back to you. 
You pulled his shirt over your head, grabbing your own and replacing it. You pulled on a pair of shorts after, rubbing your face with your hands as you looked at your appearance in the mirror. No amount of sleep seemed to help the dark circles under your eyes or the sickly look to your complexion. You could only hope Satoru was right, with time it would become more manageable. You glanced at your alarm clock, 7:48pm stared back at you now. The sky outside your window had turned indigo, the sun minutes away from being completely out of sight. The summer was coming to an end, filling your chest with melancholy.
You couldn’t stand being alone in that moment, grabbing your phone and shoving it in your pocket as you made a beeline for your door. You made your way down the hall, remembering as you passed Shoko’s dorm that you needed to text her. Stopping in your tracks, you figured it would just be easier to see her in person. “Shoko?” you called, fingers tapping the door softly because she hated when people knocked too loud. “Coming.” You heard her rustling around her room before the door opened, a half smoked cigarette hanging from her lips. 
“Thought Yaga told you no smoking inside.”  
“What he doesn’t know won’t kill him, and my window is open.” 
You smiled, “I’m hanging out with Satoru on the roof if you wanna join us.” Shoko exhaled, puffing just a bit of smoke in your direction. “I’d love to but I spent the whole afternoon with him ‘cause you were sleeping.” You sighed, rubbing the back of your neck “my bad.” but Shoko was waving you off. “Don’t apologize, you need sleep… I’ll trust Satoru to feed you if you’re hungry.” She smiled as you rolled your eyes “Alright alright, enjoy the rest of your bad habit and I’ll take Satoru duty.” The look in Shoko’s eyes made your smile falter for just a moment. 
They looked oddly wistful, but it vanished just as quickly as your smile faltered. “Aye aye captain.” Shoko started to shut the door as you turned to leave, watching you go for just a moment before shutting it completely. “Satoru.” You drawled, banging on his door so you could be heard over the music he was playing. “Oi, keep it down!” the door swung open a moment later, a cheeky grin on his face as he looked at you. “Ready to go?” He looked cozy in an oversized black hoodie and sweats, sunglasses resting on top of his head. 
“Sure am.” you returned his smile, the ache in your chest easing just a bit. It was more bearable when you had someone who understood the pain you felt deeper than surface level. You watched him turn, shutting off his music and the lights before stepping into the hallway. “Are we going to take the normal way or are you going to test out your blue?” Satoru’s eyes seemed to sparkle as you suggested he use his curse technique. “If you insist on blue…” You couldn’t even make a sound as his arm wrapped around your waist, hauling you off of your feet. 
In the blink of an eye, you were exposed to the cooling night air. “Damn.” You laughed as he set you down, shuffling over to the small lock box you kept up here with spare blankets and, as Shoko claimed, “necessities”...Which were just two cartons of emergency cigarettes. “Didn’t disorient you, right?” Satoru was standing on the edge, observing the glow of the city in the distance. “Not even a little, you’ve improved a lot, Satoru.” your back was turned to him, so you missed the way his eyes widened slightly, cheeks turning pink. 
“Thanks” 
You turned back to him, blankets in hand. “So…” You walked over to where he was standing, taking a seat just before the edge and letting your legs dangle off. “...So?” Satoru looked down at you, watching you settle. “Why did you want to come up here… I’d love to gaze at the stars but it’s not like we’ll actually see any with all the light pollution.” Satoru sighed, dropping down to squat beside you. “I guess I just wanted your company… ya know since you’re probably the only other person that understands this.” his tone was awkward, it wasn’t often that you were sentimental… or serious for that matter… with each other. 
“Your welcome to have my company any time, Satoru. I don’t know what I’d do if I didn’t have you.” It was so heartfelt it made you feel strange. “Sorry.” You added, a bit meeker than before when he stiffened a bit. “Don’t be sorry, just not used to being so… serious with you.”  He sat fully now, shoulder brushing yours as a silent invitation for you to rest your head. You did, just as you always had, watching the lights of the city a few miles away. “It’s strange, isn’t it?” You spoke in a gentle tone, hoping he knew what you meant. 
“It is. Knowing he’s there, that he’s okay… while we’re sitting here sulking like idiots.” There was a small bite to his tone as he finished, one that quickly left when he exhaled. “It pisses me off.” It made you upset too, anger bubbling in the back of your mind like a pot of boiling water that was going to overflow at any second. “It pisses me off too, because I truly can’t understand it. I’ve killed myself over the last three weeks trying to understand, to make sense of it. I can’t and I don’t think I ever will. But it’s not my place to reason with it, you know?” 
Satoru was silent, waiting for you to continue. “It’s not my life, it’s his. I tried for months to get it out of him, I tried so goddamn hard to get him to open up and he never did. Always redirecting, always avoiding.” You sounded defeated by the end, blinking away the tears that blurred your vision so you could regain composure. “Why didn’t you come to me?” Satoru questioned softly, letting your words sink in like an anchor. 
“He gave you so many signs, Satoru. If you couldn’t see them, it wasn’t my place to assist.” 
Satoru felt like that should have made him angry, but it didn’t. Mostly because you were right, it had been obvious from the start but he had naively pushed them to the side, pretending it wasn’t true. He was just as much at fault, if anything he was willing to shoulder all of the blame. Because at least you tried. He couldn’t say the same, and he knew that far too well. “Suguru made up his mind the moment he entered that village. There is no stopping a man who is set in their resolve. You said it yourself, Satoru. He looked healthier, happier, content.” 
Satoru took in a shaky breath, leaning into you just as you leaned into him. “I just don’t get why he needed to kill his parents.” Your eyes closed, that was the thought weighing heaviest on your mind. “He needed to prove to himself that he was doing the right thing. That nobody, not even his parents, were an exception to his newfound ideology.” It killed you to say it, especially since you had met his parents last winter break. They were kind, at least his mother was. His father was a bit colder but there was still an undeniable love for his son. They had welcomed you so openly, they were proud of the son they had raised. 
Now they were gone, nobody but Suguru was to blame. 
“In a fucked up way, I don’t care that he killed those people.” The words felt bitter on your tongue, but his letter flashed through your mind and for a moment you understood him. Those two little girls, beaten and caged, scared and facing death for things they never did. Hell, had you gone on the mission with him, you may have encouraged his choices. That realization felt weird as it settled in your gut. “I… I don’t really care either.” Satoru admitted softly, thinking back over the last year, thinking about Amanai. He had been seconds away from doing the same thing. 
But Suguru had been his voice of reason, stopping him with a simple command. It should have been obvious then, that Suguru’s life was completely altered from that moment forward. “It was so obvious.” He hissed softly, head falling forward just a bit as anger squeezed his heart. “There is nothing we can do now, Satoru. Nothing we can do will reverse the damage that has been done.” You wished you could believe your own words, part of you wanted to catch a train into the city and barrel into that religious group he took over. 
You weren’t even sure what you’d do if you did. Hit him, yell at him? Crumple into his arms like the sucker you were. Maybe a mix of all three, no, it would definitely be a mix of all three. You couldn’t help but wonder how he would react if he saw you again. He made it clear in his letter that he loved you, he still loved you, he would always love you. If you made the choice to leave, would he welcome you in with open arms. Or was he resenting you already for not doing so sooner. Was he waiting for you? Or was it nothing more than sweet-talk. 
“You’re not breathing.” Satoru muttered softly, tilting his head just a bit to look down at you. “Oh…” You inhaled deeply, laughing a bit  as you exhaled “got lost in thought.” You felt Satoru relax again, head resting against yours. “I get it.” You fell into a comfortable silence, watching as the sky steadily turned from a deep blue to pitch black. There, if you squint hard enough, you could make out a couple of sparkling stars. 
You knew if you asked, Satoru could probably whisk you somewhere far away. Somewhere clear so you could actually see the stars with no obstructions. 
Yet you were too comfortable, too warm. 
Sitting where you were now was more than enough for the time being. That feeling of content actually took the air from your lungs for a moment, blinking steadily as you took in your surroundings. There was a fleeting moment where your heart felt light, that aching heaviness that had been plaguing it for the last three weeks wasn’t present. You wondered quietly if Satoru felt it too. Given the way his body seemed completely relaxed into yours, you assumed he did. 
~
You were stumbling down the hall like a drunkard. Your mind felt numb as you moved, head tilted down and expression blank. If anyone were to cross your path at that given moment, they probably would have been unsettled by the sight of you. A zombie moving on autopilot, your brain moving so quickly that it had reduced everything to a quiet, droning buzz. 
Murder. 112 people. His parents too. He’s gone. He snapped. He’s a murderer. Suguru is gone. 
Nothing made sense, not a single bit of the information you had received made any sense. The fact that Suguru wasn’t answering your frequent texts wasn't making sense. The fact that you had woken up to an empty bed wasn’t making sense. The fact that people were telling you Suguru, your Suguru, had taken over a hundred lives in the span of one night wasn’t making any fucking sense. 
Your knees nearly gave out the moment your hand met the wood of your door, pushing it open so quickly it slammed into the wall with a loud thud before coming back at you. Not that you cared, at that moment you could be set on fire and you wouldn’t blink an eye. 
You stood in the middle of your dorm room, eyes scanning the room as if it were something foreign. Nothing was making sense, not even your bed looked like your own. It was the pressure cracking down on you already, sinking its claws into your shoulders and forcing you to your knees as the weight of your new reality hit you like a freight train. You couldn’t even bring yourself to cry in that moment, too shell shocked over the report Yaga had read to you and Satoru. 
Satoru. 
You had stumbled away shortly after the report was finished, barely registering the way he had started to yell. You hadn’t looked back, but it wasn’t like either of them tried to stop you. Despite having just stumbled away from him, you found yourself moving to leave and find him again. At least you would have if your knees didn’t give out on you. You gasped, more out of surprise than pain as your legs made contact with the wooden floor. You sat there for a moment, arms feeling equally as weak as you pushed yourself into a sitting position. 
You felt your chest tighten, every breath felt strangled as you tried to inhale. A cold sweat seemed to cover your skin, fingers shaking slightly as you pushed your hair from your face. You couldn’t move, completely paralyzed by shock. It felt like your heart was shattering, every shaky inhale deepening the wound. Still, your tears would not come. Not even as black spots began to obstruct your vision, chest heaving as you began to hyperventilate. 
Despite your body vibrating in distress, you felt a nearly silent calm. Like someone had flicked off the switch and stole your ability to hear.
Nothing and everything all at once. 
~
“Hey? Y/N wake up…” You jumped a bit, hand coming up to touch the wetness on your cheeks. “You were crying in your sleep.” Satoru muttered softly, hand smoothing over your hair as he cradled you. “I-I was?” You didn’t even realize the change in position or the change in scenery. You were no longer sitting by the roof’s edge, instead you were sitting in Satoru’s lap, his arms holding you tightly as he looked at you with worry. 
“You were.” he confirmed, letting you go just as you woke up fully. “Sorry for worrying you, I was just thinking about him… it’s so strange. I’ve been having such intense dreams of the past… I've had dreamless sleep for the last three weeks… so why now?” Satoru sighed, watching you get up to stand and stretch your limbs. “I don’t know. I’ve been having odd dreams about him but I don’t really remember how most of them go by the time I wake up.”
“It’s the universe’s way of torturing us… as if we haven’t been tortured enough. Wait, how long have I been asleep?” The temperature had dropped significantly, the moon was shining high in the sky now. “About an hour or so, I was actually going to bring you back inside but you started to cry and… well here we are now.” Satoru got up, stretching dramatically as you sighed. “You’d think after sleeping for eight hours I wouldn't be tired.” 
You walked to the edge of the roof again, feet pressing firmly to the ledge as you looked down. “Being depressed will suck the soul out of you.” For some reason you couldn’t help but laugh. “You seem pretty wide awake, Satoru.” He joined you on the ledge, pushing you a bit to the side. Your training gave you quick reflexes so you didn’t flinch when he did it. “Oh please, you know I’m right.” You glanced at him, laughing softly. 
“You are, but so am I. We can be depressed morons together.” His voice was dripping with sarcasm, earning another laugh as you punched his shoulder. “Touche, Gojo” 
“Yuck, never call me that again.” His face had morphed into a scowl as you used his last name. He never liked hearing you call him anything other than Satoru. “Fine.” you crossed your arms over your chest, inhaling the cool air. “I think I’m gonna go shower and maybe make something small for dinner… Just so Shoko doesn’t string the two of us up on a lamppost.” Satoru nodded, watching you step off the ledge and move about the roof to put the blankets away. 
“I’ll accompany you.” he jumped down, trailing behind you as you moved to open the door that would bring you downstairs. “In the shower? I’m flattered but–” the way his eyes rolled were enough to stop you mid-sentence. “Joking, Satoru.” he sighed out an “I know” closing the distance to haul you up. “Using the stairs is boring.” Within the blink of an eye, you were back inside and standing in front of your dorm room. 
“Text me when you’re done showering and we can go get food.” 
You nodded, one of the perks of attending school in Tokyo was the fact that the city never slept. You could go find a place to eat at three in the morning and they’d still serve you hot food. Your body sagged against the door of your dorm after shutting it. Flicking on the lights lit the room in a warm, golden glow. For the last three years you considered your room a sanctuary, it was your happy place after a long day of training. Now, it feels oddly cold. 
You walked over to your dresser, pulling the top drawer open to grab a fresh pair of underwear and pajamas for after. You tossed them on your bed, reaching down for your bottom drawer to grab a particular towel you liked. It didn’t take you long to put your hair up, not in the mood to wash it just yet, and head to the bathroom. You squinted a bit as the nearly white fluorescent lights filled the room, if you had your way you’d change them to something softer. 
It took all of five seconds for your world to come crashing down around you again, eyes zeroing in on the pregnancy test sitting on your counter. I fucking forgot about it…
You set your towel down on the counter, holding your breath as you took the step and reached for the test. You gave yourself no time to prepare, eyes scanning the results once before it hit you like a ton of bricks. You dropped it, letting it clatter on the porcelain counter as a jagged sob ruptured from your chest. Your hand came up to cover your mouth, the other resting on your chest, your heart thumping so wildly you were certain it would burst. 
There, on the test, were two lines. It was positive. 
You nearly fell forward, dropping down to the trash can beside your sink and rummaging through it without hesitation. Your fingers wrapped around the plastic test from this morning, yanking it up and looking at the results again. There, on the initial test from that morning, were two lines. You didn’t drop it this time, eyes staring at the results as if they’d change. Positive, this whole time it had been positive. You just hadn’t let the first test develop long enough. 
“When… How…” You uttered softly, the logical part of your brain screaming at you to be realistic for a second rather than acting so surprised. The irrational side of your brain was still reeling from the revelation. As if Suguru hadn’t been adamant in trying to knock you up for months. “You fucking bastard… you get your way and leave me with the aftermath.” You were struggling, there was no way you’d be able to pinpoint when it happened until you found out how far along you were. For some reason, that was what made reality really set in. 
Hot tears streaked your face, sobbing so harshly that it felt like your lungs would collapse on you. You moved in a blur, legs carrying you out of your dorm and down the hall until you were pushing open Satoru’s door. “Woah there, sounds like someone’s hun…” He looked up, the teasing tone in his voice dropping immediately when he saw the tears streaming down your face. “What the fuck happened? Are you hurt?” Satoru crossed the room in two long strides, hands cupping your face as your lips wobbled. 
You couldn’t get the words out, crying harder as he ran his hands over you searching for some type of wound. “C’mon, what happened?” His tone had more of a bite to it than he intended but you were causing panic to seep through his veins. You couldn’t breathe, legs nearly buckling under the weight of your reality. Satoru seemed to catch this, hands shooting out to support you as he brought both of you to the floor. “Y/N, please.” he urged you, throat feeling tight. 
You shook your head, still sobbing as you raised your hand meekly, the positive pregnancy test out in the open for him to see. Blue eyes widened significantly when he saw it, he didn’t even need to see the two lines to understand why you were so hysterical. “Oh…oh.” he swallowed, hand shakily taking the test from your hand to look at it. “Oh fuck.” it was just barely above a whisper, arm holding you just a little tighter as you cried into his chest. 
At least part of you was aware of the possibility, Satoru on the other hand felt completely blindsided. “You two didn’t use protection?” He uttered softly, rocking you slightly without thinking as your cries continued, you couldn’t think at that moment, unable to calm yourself down. You managed to shake your head in response, unable to feel embarrassed as you admitted to not using condoms when with Suguru. “Fuck… did you ever use protection with him?” 
He knew the answer, of course he fucking knew the answer. Suguru was utterly obsessed with you, so in love it was nearly nauseating. You shook your head again, confirming that you’d never once used protection with him. “Hey… c’mon…” he started softly when your body shook with the force of your cries but you were no longer making any sounds. He wanted to say it would be alright but he wasn’t sure if it would be. 
That answer relied on you. 
He couldn’t expect you to be alright, you had your heart broken three weeks prior by the man who often talked about proposing to you as soon as you all graduated. If those were the kind of conversations Suguru was having with him, he couldn’t imagine the conversations Suguru had been having with you. Well, that was a bit of a lie. Considering your reaction to the test results, it seemed this was a long sought after goal. Your cries were from heartbreak, not fear. 
~
“I’ve been looking at rings.” Satoru glanced up, noodles dangling half way from his lips. “Hah?” He watched Suguru grimace a bit, some broth splattering as Satoru questioned him. “I’ve been looking at rings for Y/N.” Suguru stated again, a little more cautiously now, watching Satoru slurp the rest of the noodles into his mouth. “Suguru, we haven’t even entered our third year.” 
“I know, but…” he shrugged, unable to formulate the right way to say it. “...But? You’re not even eighteen yet, neither is she.” It wasn’t that Satoru didn’t think it was okay, he just figured you were both way too young to even fathom those things. “I don’t intend on proposing to her until we’ve graduated. Listen I know it seems fast but…” Suguru's hands fidgeted with his utensils for a moment, eyes avoiding Satoru until he was ready.
“I love her, Satoru. I didn’t even think it was possible to love someone as much as I love her.” 
Satoru blinked, a bit taken back by such a bold declaration over a bowl of cheap ramen. “I’m not doubting that you love her, Suguru. I just think it’s a bit crazy to think about these things so young.” Suguru sighed, watching Satoru with weary eyes as he moved to eat more noodles. 
“We’re sourcers, Satoru. A long life isn’t guaranteed.” 
~
“Breathe, please. You’re going to pass out.” Satoru’s hand was slapping your back as you coughed, the tears had finally begun to slow but you still weren’t able to form a coherent sentence. “Please…” he tried again, watching you try your best to take a deep breath. It was followed by another, this time it wasn’t superficial. After a couple more, you were able to rub the tears from your eyes and look at him without blurry vision. 
“S-satoru I’m so so-sorry.” you hiccuped, your throat feeling raw from your crying. “You have nothing to apologize for, stop feeling like you have to apologize for everything you do.” he let you go a bit, motioning for you to get up with him and sit on his bed rather than the floor. He watched you crawl under his covers, curling up against his pillows, sniffling softly. Despite the weight of the conversation you were about to have, Satoru couldn’t help but chuckle. 
He crawled onto his bed as well, sitting beside you but above the covers. “So… I guess the best place to start is… how did this happen. By that I mean, was it intentional?” You sighed, toying with the end of his pillow case as you spoke. “Suguru had been trying to get me pregnant for months now.” You felt warmth flood your cheeks, it felt awkward admitting something like that. “I knew the bastard had a breeding kink.” Satoru said it more to himself than you, but that didn’t stop the shrill yell of his name as you slapped his arm. 
“I’m being honest! He just seemed like the type.” Satoru shrugged, holding back laughter as you rolled your eyes and settled back into sulking. “I shouldn’t be so blindsided by this, but it’s fucking ironic that he got what he wanted after he fucking left me… us.” you corrected softly, feeling selfish for being so focused on yourself when Satoru was hurting too. “The universe knows how to play cruel jokes, I’ve thought that my whole life. But, that’s beside the point. We can’t sit here and sulk over it, we need to talk about what to do next.” 
You looked up at Satoru, eyes red from crying. It hurt his heart, you looked like a kicked puppy. In that moment he realized how heavily he relied on Suguru, because even now he found himself itching to grab his phone and call him for advice. What was worse, you were now looking to him for help, when really he was just as scared as you. “The next logical step is I need to find a doctor who can run a blood test and confirm the store bought tests are accurate. After that, they need to tell me how far along I am so I can pinpoint when this happened.”
Satoru nodded, you’d both have to fill in Shoko in the morning, she’d be able to help with all the medical bits. “I… I know this seems a bit invasive so please don’t take offense… but are you going to keep it?” Satoru fidgeted a bit, eyes watching as you seemed to zone out and think. Your initial answer was yes, of course, but were you really capable of raising a baby on your own? Then again, you didn’t think you could stomach giving them away for adoption, and you certainly didn’t want to get rid of them. Not after you chased this goal for months, regardless of the way things were right now. “Yeah, as terrifying as it is, I want this baby, Satoru.” 
“Okay, so we got two of the biggest things out of the way. Now, the hardest…” you huffed as he trailed off, you weren’t entirely sure you were ready to answer the next question. “What do we do about Suguru, that’s what you’re going to say, right?” It was Satoru’s turn to huff now, nodding as he looked away from you to stare at his hands.
“He… he needs to know.” 
“No the fuck he doesn’t.” 
You both stared at each other, completely scandalized by the other’s response. “Satoru… He needs to know… he…he’s the fucking dad? How am I supposed to jus–” Satoru shook his head, hands coming up to rub his face before letting them fall back to his lap. “Suguru is a fucking criminal now, he murdered people. Hundreds of people I should fucking remind you and you just want to waltz back into his fucking life and tell him that shit?” You sat up now, eyes burning holes into his skull as you waited for him to at least look at you. “Do you hear yourself?” 
You were seething, that same anger you held for Suguru leaving was now bubbling at Satoru for uttering his name like it was pure filth. Satoru stiffened, eyes turning to glare at you. But, every ounce of anger seemed to drain from his body when he saw nothing but hurt glowing in your tired and puffy eyes. “I fucking get it, Satoru. I know what Suguru did but fuck, how am I supposed to just get over him? How am I supposed to carry his child for nine months and push it out of my body just to raise it on my fucking own and never tell him? He’s the one that wanted this in the first place!” Tears glossed your eyes over, hands shaking as they fisted in his sheets.
His mouth opened before closing again, eyes looking away from you because he knew he'd never be able to try and talk sense into you when you looked at him like that. “And what if the child is unable to see curses?” he sounded defeated. “What then, Y/N? What if you give birth to this baby and they lack the ability to see them? That baby would be the very thing Suguru hates.” You froze, it felt like someone had poured ice water down the back of your neck. “If he didn’t spare his own parents, he won’t spare his own child.” Satoru swallowed, looking like he wanted to say so much more but didn’t. He let the words hang there, heavy and dark. 
The silence stretched on between the two of you, mostly because you knew he was right. Just because both parents had the ability to see into the curse world and use curse energy, it didn’t guarantee that their offspring would also carry the same blessing. You blinked, hand subconsciously moving to rest over your stomach, as if it would do anything to protect them. “Suguru he… he wouldn’t…” Your words were weak and at that moment Satoru couldn’t bring himself to really fight with you. “But he would, y/n that’s the fucking issue, he would.” his voice was breaking, unsure if he should say what he wanted to say next. 
“Then what am I going to do?” You were going to dissolve, tears burning your eyes again as the harsh reality began to sink in. “Let me help you, let me help you raise the baby. I can easily provide for the two of you.” He turned to look at you now, eyes burning with such intensity it stole the air from your lungs. “What?” you hadn’t meant for it to sound offended, you were shocked to say the least, but still the hurt that flashed through his features made you feel the urge to reach out and hug him. “Satoru I didn’t mean for it to come out so harsh…” You moved forward, arms wrapping tightly around his neck and hugging him. 
It took a second but his arms came up to wrap around your middle, holding you tightly. “It’s okay, it was a bold statement to make so suddenly.” he soothed you when really you felt that you  should be the one soothing him. “No it’s fine, really it just caught me by surprise and…” you hugged him a little tighter, burying your face in his neck. For a moment you nearly stiffened, that was something you usually did to seek comfort from Suguru. In that moment, you couldn’t bring yourself to pull away, finding comfort in Satoru’s reassuring embrace. “You don’t have to answer me tonight.” He hushed you, hand coming up to smooth your hair as he kept you close. “I doubt you have an appetite now, how about we just sleep?” 
“I still need to shower.” You pulled away, laughing softly when you remembered what you had been in the process of doing before your world flipped. “Okay, then go and shower but please come back to me when you’re done.” His tone was quiet, something in it held no room for you to disagree. So, you let go of him reluctantly, nodding as you crawled over him to stand. “Again, you don’t have to answer me tonight, or tomorrow, or even next week. But please, think about what I said.” He stayed on his bed, watching you shakily grab the pregnancy test before heading for his door. “I will, Satoru. Keep my spot warm.” you smiled at him over your shoulder, heart still heavy as you disappeared through the open door. 
The hot water on your skin wasn’t enough to wash away the dread growing in your chest. You found your hands absentmindedly running along your abdomen, still finding it hard to believe something was there, something that would grow into a living breathing human in a few months time. A mix of you and Suguru, how strange. This wasn’t how you imagined it would happen, nor were these the feelings you expected to experience when the time came. If anything, it made you more upset. You should be happy, you should be fucking estatic. You should be basking in the euphoric state of knowing you’d be having a child with the man you adored. 
Instead, you had sobbed in the arms of his best friend, completely hysterical. And the man you loved had no idea you were even pregnant, that the very thing he wanted had been achieved and he wouldn’t even get to know. At least not yet. You had taken Satoru’s words into consideration, of course you did. But in the back of your mind, you knew there was no way you’d be able to go on with your life without ever telling Suguru. He would know, he would know of his child, you were already set on that. You twisted the knob, the water turning off a second later as you got out and dried yourself off a bit before wrapping the towel around you. 
Your body was aching from the events of the last few hours. Returning to Satoru’s room and sleeping in his warm bed sounded like heaven to you. Sleeping next to someone again felt like heaven to you. You had to wonder what Suguru would think if he knew you were sharing his best friend’s bed – albeit nothing sexual was occuring between the two of you. And even then, Suguru had broken up with you in that letter, you were technically no longer his. The thought made you feel sick as you reached for the clothing you had laid on your bed. You pulled the shorts on first, reaching for the oversized shirt second, trying to ignore the nausea building in your gut. 
You moved around your room without thinking, flicking the lights off before heading out the door and back down the hall. Satoru had changed into his own pajamas, hair damp from the shower he must have taken while you went to take yours. He only had his bedside lamp on, the pace beside him vacant and waiting for you. “Are you sure you don’t want food?” he questioned softly as you shut the door behind you. “I’ll eat a good breakfast if my morning sickness allows.” Those words felt foreign, referring to your nausea as morning sickness felt so bizarre. “Alright but if you wake up in the middle of the night starving don’t hesitate to wake me up.”
You laughed softly, huffing out an “okay” as you crawled over him and under the covers once more. Satoru pulled the blankets up over both of you before reaching over and flicking off the light. “Goodnight.” he spoke softly, settling into his bed as you rolled onto your side to get comfortable. “Night, Satoru.” You whispered back, eyes already feeling heavy, the comfort his bed offered was no match for the gnawing reality you were facing. For now, you were thankful for it. 
~
“Think fast!” You laughed, hurtling one of the poles directly in Satoru’s direction. He turned, using infinity to block it just before it hit his face. “Nice! Your reflexes are getting faster.” You picked up another weapon, Suguru was watching you intently, an easy smile on his face. “Sugu!” You called, aiming to throw another pole. “Think fast.” you repeated, arm going back before using every ounce of strength to beeline it straight at him. Suguru smiled, summoning a curse easily to deflect it. “Not bad.” you winked, watching him roll his eyes as the curse disappeared.
“Y’all are gross.” Satoru drawled, pushing his glasses up his nose. “We didn’t even say anything?” Suguru countered, stepping out of the shade and into the sun. “You don’t need to say anything, the tension is almost unbearable.” Shoko chimed, twirling her lighter around her fingers as she watched the three of you. This time you couldn’t help but laugh, letting Suguru close the distance and wrap an arm around your waist. “See, gross!” Satoru sighed dramatically as you kissed Suguru’s cheek. “It’s called being in love, something you wouldn’t get, Satoru.” You stuck your tongue out at him, laughing as he rolled his eyes. 
“Well if you’re gonna be all gross and lovey with one another, go do it in private.” 
“Okay.” 
You and Suguru spoke in unison, a shrill laugh leaving you as he bent down and hauled you up and over his shoulder. Naturally Shoko faked a gagging noise, watching as he carried you away with a smile. “They’re so gross.” Satoru commented again, eyes following the two of you until you were completely out of sight. Though, he couldn't deny the small smile tugging at his lips. 
“Suguru.” you slapped his back lightly, he was still carrying you over his shoulder even after entering the dorm buildings. “Hmm?” he paid you no mind as he climbed the stairs, his end destination would be your dorm room… more specifically your bed. “You can put me down now.” You knew he wouldn’t, so you opted for running your hands along his back, feeling his steps falter for a moment before composing himself. “I’ll put you down when I’m good and ready.” 
You rolled your eyes, playfully swatting at his ass. “Alright, that's it. You’re getting punished.” His words were very matter-of-fact, so much so that you couldn’t help but burst out laughing. “Okay dad.” Suguru didn’t miss a beat, stalking down the hallway towards your dorm room. “Yeah, I’m trying to become one so it would help me out if you cooperated.” You made a strangled noise, it had been three weeks since Suguru admitted to wanting to get you pregnant. Needless to say, he wasn’t giving up any time soon. 
“You just want a reason to fuck me.” You tried to counter, jumping a bit as he pushed into your dorm room and kicked the door closed behind him. “I don’t need a reason to fuck you, baby.” You couldn't describe the noise you made, whiplash taking over as he tossed you onto your bed. “I guess that’s true…” You pushed up on your elbows, watching him pull his white shirt up and over his head, knocking his hair out of his bun in the process. “You’ll be good for me right?” He was dropping to his knees before you, a gentle plea of his name leaving your lips.
“Atta girl.” he murmured, warm fingers hooking in the waistband of your shorts and pulling them down. You watched him with parted lips, watching the way his eyes observed you. “Already wet? How fucking filthy.” his hands splayed along your thighs, pushing them wide open so he could really look at you. “Just because I picked you up? Or maybe it was from wrapping my arms around your waist?” He teased, pulling one hand from your thigh to spread your cunt open instead. “Tell me, pretty girl… what has you so worked up already?” 
“All of it.” You’re breathless as you look at him, no shame in your eyes as you admit how badly you want him. Suguru smiled, fingers keeping you spread as he watched the arousal pool at your entrance. “All of it, hmm? I make you that horny?” His tone was light but the look in his eyes was anything but. You could feel him devouring you whole. “Yeah, you fucking do.” You tried to keep your hips still, praying he’d do something other than watch you grow wetter by the second. “Tell me something, would you?” he pulled his eyes away to meet yours. 
“Anything.” You comment softly, waiting to hear what he had to say. Suguru smiled, fighting the urge to reach up and tuck some of your hair behind your ear. “Tell me what you want me to do to you.” His voice was barely a whisper, pupils blown wide as he looked at you. You audibly groan, face feeling warm as your head falls back. “Eat me out, Suguru.” You drawl, no longer embarrassed by the things he makes you say. “As you wish.” He couldn’t even tease you for such an honest answer. Suguru’s head dipped lower, tongue licking up your inner thighs, teeth grazing the skin eagerly. 
“Sugu…” You whined out, his lips growing closer to your aching cunt. “... can I suck you off after?” 
Suguru’s whole body jolted as you uttered those words, mouth moving to lick and suck along your folds as his honest answer. You took that as a yes. You couldn’t help but squirm as his hands began kneading the flesh of your thighs, all the while his tongue was lapping at your cunt. Each movement sent electricity up your spine, one hand shakily reaching out to hold his head as his lips wrapped around your pulsating clit. “Oh fuck… Suguru…” you were embarrassed by how quickly he had learned to make you cum, the pressure already building in your gut. 
He didn’t slow, rather he slipped two fingers into your slick entrance and scissored them in time with his sucking. He loved to put on a show for you, going as far as to slurp your juices just so he could hear you cry out. You couldn’t think straight when his tongue was wiggling against your clit, stopping every few seconds to suck until your back arched. Suguru continued this until he felt your fingers tighten in his hair, pulling harsh as your moans turned into breathy gasps. He pulled away with a slick pop, smiling deviously as your head shot up to glare at him. “Suguru!” You wailed, letting go of his hair angrily. 
“Not yet, I don’t want you coming yet.”  
“No fucking fair!” you whined, head falling back against the mattress in defeat. “So selfish.” Suguru laughed as he pushed himself off the floor, now making a show of pulling the rest of his clothing off. “There goes your chances at getting head.” you chided, watching as that shit eating grin remained on his lips. “You think this is funny!” you whined again, the echoes of your denied orgasm making you close your thighs to try and alleviate the pressure. Suguru watched you, cock throbbing as he kicked his pants off the rest of the way and tossed them to the side. 
“I do think it’s funny, mostly because you look so cute when you’re so worked up.” his hands wrapped around himself, pumping languidly as you spread your thighs again, eager for more. Suguru smirked, always defiant until his cock was out. “Nah baby, I don’t think you deserve this right now.” he continued to stroke himself, head falling back just a bit as his own aching arousal was finally being relieved. “Sugu…” you choked out in a hushed whisper, mouth watering as he let out a breathy sigh, fingers toying with the sensitive tip. You were regretting your earlier statement. 
“Sugu…” you spoke softly, watching him lift one leg to plant his foot on the mattress, hand still gliding along his shaft as his jaw slackened. He ignored you, continuing to get himself off. He was waiting for you to do something, that realization had you pushing yourself up, pulling your shirt up and over your head and tossing it to the ground. You pulled your legs off the side of the bed, maneuvering yourself until you sat on your knees before him. “Let me suck you off.” breathless, hands folded neatly on your lap as you waited for his response. 
Suguru smiled at you, watching the mattress move as your hips squirmed. “I thought you said the chances of me getting head were gone.” he teased, hand massaging just before the head of his cock, making his own voice falter as he spoke to you. “I never said that.” which was kind of true, you didn’t say those exact words. Suguru cocked an eyebrow, unable to maintain his stern demeanor as your tongue moved to wet your lips, eyes completely focused on his fist. “Please, your hand is so boring Suguru, especially when you could have my mouth.” you tried again, eyes sliding up his torso, admiring the dips and plains of his muscles. 
“When you put it like that, it’s hard to say no.” he murmured softly, letting his cock go. You scooted closer, until your knees were nearly off the edge of the mattress. “Thank you.” You whispered softly, watching his face flush a shade of pink, eyes quickly looking away from you to try and regain some sort of composure. The first touch was always enough to make him weak in the knees, your tongue gliding gently over his weeping tip before lowering to the underside of his shaft. He met your eyes, face still flushed as you looked at him with such adoration. All the while your mouth was doing sinful things to him, your duality was enough to induce whiplash. 
His fingers came up to rake through your hair, guiding you as your jaw slackened, head moving to engulf him in the wet heat your mouth had to offer. “Oh fuck…” Suguru choked when you didn’t stop moving, throat constricting as your nose brushed the unruly mess of black hair at his base. You held yourself there, drool dripping down your chin as your cheeks hollowed. Slowly you dragged yourself back, watching the shiny coat of saliva covering his shaft in your wake. You repeated those motions, finding a comfortable place to bob your head at, his length heavy on your tongue. “So good for me… fuck you’re so good for me… I don’t know what I did to deserve you…” 
You merely hummed, ignoring the slow but steady ache building in your jaw as your hand moved along his shaft. You could tell he was starting to really feel it, his cock twitching every few motions, head tilted back as his eyes fluttered shut. You had to admit you were impressed he managed to stay on his feet. Most times, when Suguru dared to eat you out while you were standing, you were nearly a dead weight in his grasp by the end. The only thing keeping you up was the wall he stuffed you against and his shoulders because he tossed your legs over them. You stopped when you felt him twitching violently, jaw clenched tight as his head shot forward to look down at you.
“Gonna make me cum, pretty girl.” He choked out, hands cupping your cheeks to guide you as you moved your head again. Your hands shot out, holding his thighs tightly as you let him use your head how he pleased, guiding you to a pace that made your eyes water before he stilled all together. You forced yourself to relax as Suguru spilled down your throat, letting you greedily swallow all of it before pulling off of him with a lewd pop. “Fuck…” he nearly fell into the bed, dick still hard as he crawled onto the matress with you. “How about we do this…” he sounded breathless, laying on his side and guiding you to do the same. You knew what he wanted, swollen lips parting as you sighed, settling with your back just barely touching his front. 
You let Suguru grab one leg, lifting it up slowly to create enough space for himself. “Lazy boy…” You teased over your shoulder, letting his arm hook under your neck, large hand resting on your chest. “Maybe I am, but you fucking love it.” You couldn’t complain, not when he was angling his hips and pressing the weeping tip of his cock at your entrance. He pressed into you, adjusting both of your bodies until he found a comfortable position to properly rut his hips into you. All you could do is let him, whining loudly as he split you open, stuffing you full. “How’s that, hmm? Does it feel good?” Suguru whispered against your ear, panting as your walls constricted around him and tried to push him out at the very same time. “F-feels so good…so good…” You whined loudly. 
Suguru didn’t give you a verbal response after that, instead focusing all of his attention on finding a good rhythm to fuck you too. You couldn’t stop the noises that spilled past your lips, each drag of his cock in and out of your heat was enough to make your vision blurry. It took everything in you to at least keep your head up, tilted downwards to watch where he disappeared and reappeared between your legs.  “Suguru…” a breathless plea, one that turned into a steady mantra as all you could think about was him and what he was doing to you. Had you not been so overwhelmed you would have heard his quiet grunts of praise each time your bodies connected. 
Suguru watched a shaky hand slide down your front, in your whimpering daze you managed to slip two fingers down there to rub sloppy circles on your clit. “Gonna cum, aren’t ya?” Suguru gasped, his cock twitching violently as your cunt suctioned to him, nearly making his thrusts falter. “Y-yeah…” you managed to get out, no longer having the strength to keep your head up. You let it fall, resting snuggly in the crook of the arm he was using to support you. “Then come for me, pretty girl. I wanna feel you come all over my cock… then maybe I’ll fill you up, yeah? You’d love that…” you responded with a loud whine, walls fluttering around his length each time he pushed it back in. 
“There we go, come for me.” He encouraged again, warm breath ghosting the shell of your ear and earning a shiver in response. You could feel it, the aching build of a damn that was on the verge of breaking, every breath you made was nothing but a labored pant. Your heart was beating erratically, just as you were about to fall over the edge, Suguru gasped. You couldn’t help but gasp with him, his release pumping into you, hot and sticky. “F-fuck sorry…” he grounded out, his own orgasm sneaking up on him and completely catching you by surprise. Not that it mattered to you, that strained and embarrassed apology was all you needed before you felt yourself coming as well. 
You both essentially collapsed, Suguru holding you tightly as he angled himself to remain inside of you, to keep his cum inside of you. “You okay?” he mumbled softly, hand lazily reaching for the one you had used to rub your clit and bring it to your lips. You whined as he popped the shiny fingers in his mouth, cleaning them with his tongue. “Yeah, I'm good…great really.” You chuckled, eyelids feeling heavy as he hummed. “Good.” he mumbled softly, pulling your fingers from his mouth to kiss them gingerly. “You know I love you, right?” Suguru’s voice was tender, so tender it nearly pulled the air out of your lungs. “Yeah, of course I know that Sugu… you know I love you too, right?” 
“I know.” was all he said in reply, you had to wonder why he was suddenly so sentimental. Suguru was typically softer with you after sex, aftercare was one of his specialties. But something about his tone felt different, something about his question felt like there was more meaning behind it. You had been noticing the bags under his eyes for the last few weeks, but every time you asked he always brushed you off. “Is everything okay?” you tried to turn your head to look back at him, but the angle he had you in proved to make movement difficult. “Mmhmm, just want to make sure you’re okay.” but he hadn’t  been that rough with you. “Yeah, I’m okay… but you haven’t answered me.” He stopped kissing your hand, setting it down gently as he moved to kiss your shoulder. 
“I haven’t?” 
“I asked you if you were okay.”
“Well, I did answer you. I said yes.” he didn’t sound offended, more or less he sounded amused. “Mmhmm isn’t a yes, Suguru.” You, on the other hand, sounded a little less enthused. “I’m okay, baby. Is that better.” you couldn’t see it but you could hear the smile on his lips. “Yeah, that’s better.” But for some reason, you couldn’t shake the worry clinging to your heart. 
~
“Hey… hey…” you woke with a gasp, eyes wet as you tried to remember where you were. “You okay? You started crying in your sleep again.” A worried but groggy voice was speaking to you, one that was familiar but your brain couldn’t seem to catch up. “Y/N? It’s me, it’s Satoru.” There it was, you nearly fell back into the pillow with relief as he spoke. “Shit I’m sorry… I was dreaming and it just… fuck it felt so real. I couldn’t remember where I was…” you wiped your eyes, slowly adjusting to the dark room again. “It’s okay… you’ve been dreaming a lot.” Satoru sighed, he remembered you saying that your nights had been pretty dreamless for the last three weeks so why was that changing now? 
“I know… it just started happening too. Maybe it's because of the baby.”
Your hand lowered to your stomach, palm resting flatley against it. You still couldn’t process the fact that there was something in there, something that was growing, a mix of you and him. “Can pregnancy make you dream more?” Satoru chuckled, blue eyes shifting to read his alarm clock. It was just past four in the morning. You had slept pretty well until a few minutes ago. He had been watching you, woken up by your body growing restless. He woke you up the moment he heard you start to sniffle. “I dunno, maybe.” you sighed, eyes feeling heavy again. “Sorry for waking you, Toru.” You didn’t hear the way his breath hitched, your yawn effectively shutting it all out. 
You hadn’t called him by that nickname in weeks, he hadn’t really realized how much he missed it. “Don’t apologize, I told you to stop that.” Not stern, just tired, he wanted you to go back to normal but he knew that was impossible. Things would never go back to how they were. “Oh, yeah… I guess you have told me that.” You chuckle, turning on your side to face him in the dark. “I won’t apologize for forgetting this time, okay?” You grinned, eyes closing and unaware that he was able to see it in the dark. “Okay.” He sighed, a grin creeping up his own face as he let his eyes shut again. Hopefully you’d sleep through to his alarm at 8:30am, you had a busy day ahead. 
~END OF PART ONE~
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Thank you for reading! I hope you look forward to part 2 <3333
Likes, comments and reblogs are always appreciated ;3
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ew-selfish-art · 8 months
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DP x DC AU: Bruce is the one to invite Constantine over, and no, it's not to improve his tenuous working relationship with the asshole. It's the opposite of that.
---
Danny had become a frequent visitor of Wayne Manor in the last few months, and Bruce had to admit that while the kid was certainly a bit ominous for his liking for a partner to Tim, he was a generally kind and happy soul. They'd been dating for a lot longer than the Bats knew of- Kon had been the one to let it slip to Jon who told Damian and so on- and since the relationship was no longer secret, Tim brings him to family functions.
The thing about Danny is... He's dead. More than half of the time. Which again, is not Ideal for Bruce's wishes for Tim's future husband, but it also means that he reviles in being alive. Danny is downright joyous about using his time left on earth properly. He makes Tim eat real food, enjoy real sleep and generally live a more fulfilled life than he had been. The whole family noticed the changes in Tim, and it made them like Danny even more.
So after a particularly grueling day of dealing with Trigon and therefore the JLD's lack of coordination and sensible planning- Bruce gets the idea. John couldn't fucking contain himself admonishing Bruce, and perhaps it was vindictive, but Bruce figures that John should meet Danny. Sans context of course.
...
John is really over dealing with Batman's prissy, over complicated and perfectionist attitude. Come to the Cave he'd demanded, as though John didn't have a favorite bar to get back to, deal with a ghost he ordered like John didn't have other priorities than some random shade.
When walking into the space however, the second his teleportation portal closed, John knew something was deeply, deeply fucked. The shadows were growing longer, the second hand on his watch ticked slower, the air smelled of sulfur and... Red Robin was sitting working at the computer like nothing was wrong. But what was wrong, was the kid was marked by The End. Marked by The Infinite. FUCK.
John knew Death, the Endless, and knew she could pick favorites just like her siblings (Dream's immortal drinking buddy comes to mind). But this wasn't her work, this was something other.
"Mate- the Bat said there was a ghost?" John feels like he might throw up, the eerie atmosphere complicating what should have been a simple request.
"Uh, obviously." The kid didn't even look over from his screen or pause his typing.
John slowly approached, looking over each shoulder a few times, turning in a few circles as the shadows appeared to dance and echo within the cave. He could see his breath, the air became so cold so suddenly. And then, with the gentleness of a pin drop, a new agonizing sound appeared with a Kid walking down the cave stairs. The aura of the room turned dark, every cell in John's body screaming to run, that this was basically the little girl from the ring crawling through the TV as the young man walked down the steps.
"Babe, your grampa says that dinners going to be ready in a second. Oh, uh, hey dude." The creature speaks, turning his eyes to John for only a moment to study him. It feels equivalent to a butterfly being pinned by its wings.
"Y-y-you, you're, you're one of the Endless?" John stutters, his body reacting in fear despite the nonchalant posture of the Beast. The young man rolls his eyes.
"Nah, one of the Ancients but like uh, I'm new in town. And hon seriously don't be late, A made tiramisu for dessert and you're not allowed to have any if you're late and I don't want to deal with you pouting."
"You had me at Tiramisu!" Red stands up from his computer and then turns, "John, what are you doing here again?" Red Robin finally looks over at him, completely confused.
"Just leaving." John mutters, his eyes still trained on the ANCIENT.
---
Bruce could barely hide his laugh when Tim reported the Magician meeting Danny in the cave.
That'll show the asshole to question Batman's knowledge of the occult.
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lnfours · 5 months
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everything | l.n
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summary: he’s your best friend and you’re in love with him, but he’s not in love with you. or so you think, anyway.
warnings: fluff, a hint of angst, reader not knowing how love feels, kinda a situationship scenario but idk, also kind of hot trash?? - inspired by ceilings by lizzy mcalpine
masterlist | inbox | listen
₊‧°𐐪♡𐑂°‧₊
he was finally home. after months of busy schedules and being away from home, he was back. and the first thing he did? he texted you. he texted you and asked if you were busy, like he always did every time he was back in london.
you had told him no, your plans had fallen through last minute and to be honest, you missed him. you missed his laugh, the way he hugged you, the jokes the two of you shared. he was your person and you were his, it was as simple as that.
and sure, maybe he was your person for another, completely different reason. but at the end of the day, to you, he was just lando. he wasn’t ‘lando norris, formula one driver for mclaren’. he was the boy you had known since you were a teenager, the boy you cheered for on the sidelines ever since he decided he wanted to work towards his dreams.
so the two of you had made plans to go out for a drive and catch up, the tradition you held every time he came back. you’d drive around, get some take out, and head back to your apartment for a few episodes of your favorite shows or a movie he’d seen and thought you would like. he had picked you up, the mclaren running on the side of the street as you climbed in, closing the door behind you.
you smiled, leaning into his touch when he leaned over and wrapped you into a side hug from the drivers side, “hey! missed you,”
you smiled back at the brunette, his green eyes meeting yours, “missed you, too, lan.”
his eyes scanned yours before he leaned in and pressed a soft kiss on your lips. a new tradition you two had picked up ever since that drunken night in singapore. you had went to the grand prix with max, showing support for your best friend, just like you always did. somehow, someway, the two of you had found yourselves stripping each other’s clothes off in his hotel room. nothing but the sounds of your quiet moans and his mumbled curses filling the room as you learned each other’s bodies.
and it had become a thing, every time he’d come home you’d both find yourselves in the same predicament: tangled in the sheets within the hour.
the whole ordeal was like a dream come true in the beginning, something you had been wishing for since the moment you realized that maybe you loved him more than in a platonical way. now, as you sat in the passenger seat of his car, legs tucked underneath you as the rain pattered against the roof, your food in your lap as you stared out to the city lights below you, you weren’t sure it was a good idea. you had seen the girls that practically throw himself at you, why would he choose you over them?
he noticed your silence, tilting his head towards you and placing a hand on your thigh, “you okay?”
you swallowed thickly, “mhm,”
he knew you better than that, though, “no you’re not.”
you sighed, how do you tell someone who’s not in love with you that you want something more, “‘m fine, really.”
you picked at your nails, ignoring the way your phone was buzzing against your leg. you had assumed it was your friend texting you, begging for updates between you and the boy you were sitting next to.
“you know you can tell me anything, right?”
not this. not now.
you nodded, “i know.”
he nodded back at you, “okay,”
you looked back out to the window next to you, watching the rain drip down the glass. you swallowed the lump in your throat, biting down on your lip as you felt the tears prick your eyes. you felt stupid, stupid to feel like there was ever a real chance. a real chance that he could ever love you the way you loved him.
you felt his eyes on you again, “y/n?”
you hummed, turning back to face him, which was a mistake. you felt like your heart was being ripped out of your chest.
“what’s wrong? seriously, i don’t know if i can handle the silence for much longer.”
you chuckled softly, shaking your head, “it’s nothing, really. promise,”
“stop lying to me,” he sighed, “c’mon, i’m your best friend. you can tell me anything.”
best friend.
you sniffled softly, which made his attention shift from your eyes to the small tear falling down your cheek in the dim lighting of the street light, “i just feel so… dumb.”
he raised an eyebrow, “why do you feel, dumb?”
he absentmindedly reached out and wiped the tear away with the pad of his thumb. you let out a shaky breath, shaking your head and backing away from his touch.
he looked at you confused, a hint of hurt in his eyes as he watched you cry in front of him. he was wracking his brain, trying to figure out where he went wrong. trying to understand what you meant with your words, all while trying not to make himself feel like he was the reason for your tears.
you opened the car door, the rain smacking the pavement as you stepped out, “i can’t,”
he watched as you closed the car door, stepping out into the night sky and cold rain. he sat there for a second, his brain unable to catch up to what had just happened. his brain caught up, opening his own door as he chased after you into the freezing cold rain.
“y/n!”
you didn’t want to turn around, your tears mixing with the rain on your face. he was faster than you, though, grabbing your hand and holding you back from walking away from him. he spun you back to face him, your face glowing under the street light as he noticed how broken you look.
“what’s wrong!” he yelled over the pouring rain, “please, don’t shut me out!”
you let out a quiet sob, “i can’t do this right now, lando!”
he stood in front of you, frozen, as you repeated yourself, softer now, “i can’t keep doing this to myself.”
he shook his head, “what’re you talking about?!”
“just say it!” you shouted back, “just say you don’t really want me so i can move on and forget about it and we can go back like nothing ever happened!”
“what makes you think i want that?” he asked, “y/n, why do you think i come back to london instead of monaco whenever i have a break? because i want to see you!”
“not for the same reason i want to see you!”
“you don’t know that!”
you cried softly, turning away from him as he approached you again, taking your face into his hands. your eyes met yours as he spoke again, “y/n, i come back home to you because you’re all i think about when im not with you. every little thing i do, i think about you.”
you watched as his eyes scanned yours, begging for you to speak. he spoke first, though, “you’re all i think about, every night, every day. i should’ve told you how i felt sooner instead of dragging you on, but i’m falling in love with you.”
you shook your head, backing away from his touch again, “don’t,”
“don’t what?” he asked, “tell you i’m in love with you?”
“don’t say it if you don’t mean it. please, don’t say it just to make me feel better.”
“for one second can you just stand here and actually listen to me?” he sighed, “can you let yourself understand that there’s someone who actually loves you, standing right in front of you telling you. someone who’s ready to drop everything and show you.”
he reached for your hand and pulled you closer to him again, but this time you didn’t back away. he was so close to knocking down the final wall you had put up, so close to knocking down the walls you had put up as a sense of security. to keep yourself guarded, too scared to wear your heart on your sleeve once again.
but here he was, your best friend of all people, standing here in the pouring rain and giving you the fairytale moment you had always hoped for. the boy with curly brown hair and gorgeous green eyes was everything you could’ve ever wanted. everything you dreamed about, every future map you’d come up with in your journal, it always had him in it. one way or another, the two of you were meant to be.
two souls intertwined. that was you and him.
“lando-“
“i fucking love you,” he said, “so much that it physically hurts. like my chest gets all tight, and it feels like i can’t breathe-“
“lan-“
“and that night in singapore was when i realized you were the person i wanted to be with. not the models or the girls who throw themselves at me, i want to be with you. the one who knows my favorite flavor of ice cream, the one who knows all my greatest fears and all my secrets. the one who doesn’t judge me and i can talk to about anything. it’s you. it always has been, i’ve just been to blind to see it.”
the final wall came crashing down as you said his name, “lando,”
he hummed, his heart damn near flying out of his chest as you wrapped your arms around his neck, your face so close to his as you mumbled a soft, “kiss me.”
he didn’t give it a second thought, immediately pressing his lips to yours. you kissed him back, the rain long forgotten about as the water from his hair dripped onto your forehead. he put every ounce of longing, passion and love into the kiss, a kiss nothing like the ones you had both shared before.
he pulled away, his forehead against yours, “you don’t have to say it back, but now you know that i love you.”
you pulled him back to you by his jacket, “i love you.”
he smiled before his lips were pressed back against yours. and you stood there, kissing in the rain, and everything felt like a scene straight out of a movie. the feeling something new to you no longer felt scary, or intimidating. it felt safe and warm.
and it was all because of him.
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frenchkisstheabyss · 1 month
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♡A Sky Full of Stars♡
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♡ Pairing: idol!dad!hongjoong x fem!mom!reader
♡ Genre: the fluffiest of fluff
♡ Summary: Just some sweet moments you share with Hongjoong when you and your daughter surprise him after their Coachella set.
♡ Word Count: 1.4k
♡ Warnings: If there's any warning it's that your kid has a name. I know some people don't like that. She's named after an artist Joong likes who I think has a pretty name so that's all babes.
♡ A/N: I set out to make this super fluffy summer road/beach trip fic with Joong but I sat down to write and this is what came out instead so I present to you some post-concert fluff and I hope it gives you all the sweet feelings it gave me writing it.
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This can’t be real.
It’s all Hongjoong keeps repeating in his head as he steps off of the Sahara stage at Coachella. His ears are ringing, his heart’s beating out of his chest, his throat’s on fire, and he’d walk right back on that stage to keep going if he could.
It seems like only yesterday his group was fighting to debut; now they’re here, performing on a stage some artists can only dream of stepping foot on. The joy on his member’s faces. The sound of their fans screaming for them. It’s a special kind of magic he wishes he could bottle up and keep somewhere safe to treasure forever.
“Captain!” Wooyoung cheers, throwing an arm around him, “We did good?” Hongjoong looks around to see his members staring at him, his approval all that matters in the sea of praise thrown at them by staff. Hongjoong nods, wiping his face with a towel, “We did good!” Smiles perk up their exhausted faces as they drag themselves down the steps leading to the backstage area.
Stepping onto the grass, Hongjoong stares up at the infinity pool of stars that is the California sky. Just when he feels himself begin to float away, a faint tugging at his pants keeps his feet on the ground. It’s so faint that he almost questions if he felt it at all until Yeosang lays a hand on his shoulder letting him know, “You have company.” 
Hongjoong’s eyes dance their way down his leg to find a smaller nearly identical set of eyes staring up at him. All he’d done not to cry is for nothing when he sees the chubby glitter speckled cheeks of his little 2 year old smiling at the sight of him. “Olivia…” he gasps, scooping her into his arms, “What are you doing here?”
The other members gather around like moths to a flame. Of any fan they’ve ever had their niece will always be their favorite. Mingi squats down to eye level with her, pinching her cheek, “Hi, Oli. Uncle’s here.” “Oh look at these” San coos, playing with the two ponytails sat atop her tiny head, “So cute.”
Hongjoong holds her close to his heart, shaking the tears from his eyes. “Daddy cry?” she asks, touching his cheek. Hongjoong smiles, choosing to dodge the question rather than lie, “Um, where’s your mo—” “Here!” you say, hugging him from behind. You had every intention of announcing yourself to begin with but the happiness on his face seeing Oli was too adorable to interrupt.
That same happiness plays on repeat when he feels your arms around his waist. You weren’t supposed to be here. Your flight had been delayed twice and the baby was beginning to get fussy. Hongjoong had insisted you just stay home and watch the livestream. Just knowing you were watching would be enough for him but that’d never be enough for you. If you had to grow wings to fly yourself here you’d have done it to be by his side.
Not satisfied with simply knowing you’re there, Hongjoong reaches his free arm back to pull you around to his side. Time slows when he looks at you this way—like you’re one of the most precious things on this Earth. You’re one of two really, the other’s bouncing in his other arm with her fingers scrunched around his collar.
“Hey you” you beam, wiping a few rogue tears from his face. Hongjoong kisses you, soft lips pressed to yours in what has to be the sweetest, saltiest kiss you’ve ever shared. You don’t care how sweaty he is, only that you’re together. “Hey you” he smiles, his eyes narrowing slightly, “Why didn’t you tell me you were coming?” You shrug, playing it cute so he doesn’t kill you, “I wanted it to be a surprise.” Give him a heads up so he has ample time to play it tough? Never.
“Ahem,” Seonghwa interrupts, “Does that mean you were watching and saw…everything?” The guys look at each other, suddenly mortified at their onstage antics. “Oh, for sure. We saw everything. She’s gonna be an alcoholic now” you tease just to watch their heart’s sink. Hongjoong shakes his head at them, “Shame on you. For the record, my cup was water.” 
Jongho throws Hongjoong some vicious side eye, “Water, right. Oli, your daddy’s a liar.” “Daddy liar” Oli repeats with a giggle. You dip your head down to hide your own laughter as the guys hit an equally amused Jongho with their towels. Seonghwa casually swipes the baby away from Hongjoong to teach her how to throw a few hits. Hongjoong chases them down as if he’ll never see her again, “Be careful!”
“Joong, she’s fine!” you shout after him, “As long as Hwa has her…oh, no…Mingi unhand my child!” 
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“Goodnight stars and goodnight air” Hongjoong reads, flipping the final page of a children’s book, “Goodnight noises everywhere.” He closes the book and Oli cheers, flipping it over for him to read again. Propped up in his lap as he longues in a barely comfortable hotel chair, it’s clear her miniature lids are growing heavy.
“Honey, it’s late. No more Goodnight Moon. Bedtime, okay?” His voice is stern, he means business, but so does she. Oli flips the book open, her hand rubbing the first page. Her bottom lip pokes out and he knows he can’t say no to her. “Fine but one more time and then bed.”
You emerge from the shower in time to hear the story start back up again. “In the great green room…” Hongjoong starts in his bedtime story voice. You move quietly around the room, listening to the story for what’s the 1000th time for you too. As you do, you steal glimpses of them holding hands, turning the pages of the book together. Hongjoong pauses to let Oli read or poke around the pages marveling at the illustrations.
“Is bunny?” she asks, pointing to a figure sitting in a rocking chair. “That is a bunny” he cheers softly, poking his two front teeth out to mimic a rabbit. Oli copies him—it’s sorta her thing these days—making you laugh so hard you snort. “Are you laughing at me?” Hongjoong jokes, his mouth still in perfect bunny formation. It only makes you laugh harder. Your two little bunnies, twins in every way they can be. Especially in their silliness.
You approach the them, planting a kiss on both of their foreheads, “You guys are adorable.” Hongjoong leans his head back, allowing it to rest in the palm of your hand. “You are too. So adorable” he yawns, his eyes heavy with exhaustion. A blink and you miss it moment of silence passes before he speaks again.
“Did I do okay, today?” he asks, his tone more serious now, “I don’t want to…I can’t let everyone down.” “God, no. You were amazing. Look at me” you demand, cradling the sides of his face to keep his anxious gaze from drifting. “You. Were. Amazing” you repeat, “Your fans are so proud of you and your members they love you. And that little bunny down there, she loves you.”
Hongjoong looks at Oli who’s fallen fast asleep against his chest, her hand still in his. “We both love you and you fucking killed it. If anyone says any different I’ll kick their ass” you promise and you mean it. “What’d I ever do to deserve you two?” he asks, kissing your inner wrists. You lean in close to him, your lips hovering just above his, “Exist. That’s all you ever have to do, you know?”
Your lips part to meet his and he welcomes them, sipping down feelings there are no words for and pouring the same into you. “I love you” he whispers and you smile. “I love you too.” Easing the book from between them with mom-like precision, you throw a pillow on the floor and take a seat by Hongjoong’s feet. You open the book and begin to read, not to Oli but to him.
Finally relaxing into the chair, he strokes your hair and listens to the sweet sound of your voice. He balances Oli on his lap, his delicate little gem who treats him like the sun rises and sets in his eyes. He’d long ago sworn that he didn’t think he’d ever have everything. What a frighteningly beautiful realization it is that he finally does.
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noxtivagus · 2 years
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i should replay endwalker and cry again 🥺
#tag later#i can't even remember if ng+ is alrdy out for 6.0+ but#im looking at some of my screenshots again n these words really resonate w me#'all of us lost in a sea of chaos searching desperately for purpose and meaning...but it shldnt be just an extension of anothers.#it has to be ours. it has to be'#i love n relate w the twins sm aaaa#+ alphy is that whole scene...my beloved frfr#i kin him sm#n emet ffs!!!!!!#'a slave to sentiment even after an eternity'#yk that bit where hyth walks away. 'my new old friend' FUCK THIS GAME#wah alphinaud my bb boy#i wna give him a lil kiss n tell him that im proud of all he's done#emet's so kind#i love him sm#and hyth T_T 'to help them realize their dreams' i wish hyth was real >:0#AND VENAT PLS HSJFJDJKA I LOVE HER SM shes my inspiration n my love#and urianger.....'the poems of platitudes of wiser men. musings on sadness and loss...studied and memorized#...and meaningless in the moment'#in our hearts we always know...yeah#'not sorrow...but hope. and love...' brb tears in my eyes#oh man theres still sm we dont know about life#so many things we'll never know...and that in itself along with the hope and pain it comes with is so beautiful n oddly painfully comforting#you see this is why ffxiv conforts me sm fuck im nearly abt to cry again it all hurts so much but#love. hope. though despair may be overwhelming i will always forge ahead unto tomorrow !#'if strength is the courage to confront your failings and accept that you are worthy of another chance...#...to rise from the ashes while the fire still burns...bloodied but unbowed...#THEN MY FRIENDS HAVE MADE ME STRONG'#yk venat saying bye always makes me fucking cry#i cant do this bye im gna go cry /pos
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mykoreanlove · 4 months
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manifested
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You were barely awake as you noticed the grip around your waist getting tighter. It was your boyfriend laying behind you, pulling you closer and nestling his head into your neck. He placed delicate kisses on your soft, warm skin while whispering beautiful things in your ear. You felt so giddy, so happy, so in love.
“Princess”, he whispered softly, “Are you awake?”
You didn’t answer but smiled brightly instead. You found his hand placed on your bare stomach covering you with safety and affection. You stroked the soft skin, starting with the back of his hand and ending with his long fingers.
Memories of where those fingers had been last night flooded your consciousness and made you shudder. You felt him grin into the back of your neck.
“I guess you are awake. Good morning, baby.”
You didn’t want to turn around as you were afraid of realizing that this was nothing but a dream. Just another session of your imagination that brightened up your life.
You had sucked at dating all your life – always being tossed aside by the guys you fell for. After a while you were consumed with your fears which resulted in you giving up dating altogether.
“Not everybody is going to leave you. Not everybody is going to cheat on you. Not everybody is going to use you for sex. Not everybody will leave you for someone else. Not everybody is a fuckboy, Y/N!”
Your friend’s words were prominent in your mind for a long time; however, you decided you couldn’t take the risk. No matter how hard you tried you couldn’t believe in the possibility of her words being true. Being convinced that no guy on this planet would ever want you – really want you –  was burned into the core of your whole being.
But what if an imaginary boy could?
You often daydreamed about him, just for fun. Imagining being with the one that truly loved you made you feel better, so you kind of turned your imagination into your own real world.
In here, everything was peachy. You had no idea how you did it but the most handsome guy on mother earth fell for you. He was tall, slim yet muscular and moved with vigor. He was in his early twenties, just like you. He had piercing dark eyes, a distinctive nose and full lips. His porcelain skin was flawless and perfectly accentuated by his long, black hair. Since you enjoyed him so much in your daydreams you even gave him a name – Sam.
Ever since inventing Sam nothing was the same for you. Hand-crafting the perfect man made you happy, seen and appreciated. You finally had the feeling that you were truly wanted for all that you were. Every day you spent lots of moments in your head imagining what it would be like to really date him.
After waking up you would place your arms around yourself and imagine it was him hugging you, wishing you a good morning.
While pouring black coffee into your favorite mug you imagined him standing next to you smiling brightly. “Here”, he handed you some sugar, “to make the coffee as sweet as you, y/n.”
During your daily walks you’d imagine him with you, holding your hand and stroking your thumb while chatting with you.
And at night, when you were left with your dirty thoughts and desperation, you imagined it were his lips on your clit sucking, instead of the pink sex toy you bought ages ago.
After a while your inner world felt so true to you, so real, that you actually felt like a different person. You were no longer y/n, single and desperately afraid of heartbreak, but y/n, happily partnered with the love of her life.
Naturally, you showed up different in the world. You had that glow, that aura, that only people who are fresh in love had to offer. You oozed confidence and fulfillment, no longer looking for someone to complete you.
Everybody noticed the change in you and approached you differently: your friends loved your sudden wholeness and congratulated you on being your best self, past lovers popped up and found their way into your DMs, begging for another chance as well as random strangers who asked you out on the street.
You rejected them all – in your head you were happily partnered to Sam. Your loyalty belonged to Sam.
Until one day you were out enjoying some pancakes when you were approached by a guy that resembled your imaginary boyfriend a bit too much.
“You might think I’m crazy and I probably am, but I couldn’t help myself. Ever since I saw you, I had to come and talk to you. It’s like.. I feel like I am magically drawn to you. I’m Hyunjin by the way.”
This was definitely odd, but you didn’t think he was crazy at all. You felt it, too. You shared an intimate connection even though you had never met. Being with Hyunjin felt natural, comfortable – as if you had been doing it all the time.
You forgot your fears about dating and heartbreak – in fact, they never made their comeback into your conscious mind. All you thought about was Hyunjin and how he made you feel.
Desired.
Loved.
Sexy.
Confident.
Wanted.
Appreciated.
Taken care of.
Safe.
His resemblance to Sam was almost frightening – they shared the same looks, mannerisms and characteristics. Sometimes you joked about dating your imaginary duplicate but deep down you knew it was far from comedy.
Your imaginary relationship started out as a relief, as a way to make you feel better about being lonely but somehow you managed to find a guy that was identical to your made-up boyfriend. You would have freaked out by now but luckily, he had another name, so you kept your trust in funny coincidences rather than magic.
“Princess”, Hyunjin’s kisses brought you back to actual reality. “I was thinking about taking a trip to the states to visit my relatives and friends from high school. Do you want to come with me? Say yes, please.”
You turned around cheerily. “You lived in the states?”
Relationships were a funny thing – you were fluent in Hyunjin’s body language and knew his deepest secrets, but random things like past high school exchanges were still foreign to you. He nodded while his fingers were caressing your face. “Yeah, for a couple of years I lived there. It was a crazy time, completely different to here.”
You leaned into his touch more. “Different how?”
“Well, the language for starters. The culture was way more open. I felt cooler in a way. Oh, and I even got another name since no American could pronounce Hyunjin without insulting my Korean ancestors.”
Your eyes shot up in panic. “Another name?”, you muttered. Hyunjin nodded unknowingly.
“Yeah, my English name is Sam. Why?”
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dollfacefantasy · 4 months
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Puppy Games
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pairing: chris redfield x fem!puppy-hybrid!reader
summary: chris develops a soft spot for the hybrid he's taken in and wants to make her birthday extra special
cw: nsfw (18+), smut, p in v, oral (m receiving), daddy kink, breeding kink, predator/prey (they play chase)
word count: 5.9k
a/n: this is a birthday present for one of the sweetest, most caring people i've ever met, @nexysworld. i love nexy so so much, and you should all go wish her a happy birthday because she's great and she deserves it. i'm so lucky to call her my friend <3
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Chris startles awake upon hearing a creak outside his bedroom window. His life working for the government and fighting bioweapons left him a light sleeper. The slightest noises, like the one he imagined came from the gate to his yard, jolted him awake. Rubbing his bleary eyes, he sits up. He tries to determine if what he heard was real or the remnant of a dream. But then he hears the clatter of something falling over outside, and he knows something, or someone, is out there.
After getting out of bed, he pulls on a shirt and grabs a flashlight and a gun. Slipping on his shoes, he peers out the window and confirms that the gate is open. He cautiously slides out the back door and casts the flashlight around the yard. The beam illuminates the small grassy area, but doesn’t give him an idea of what made that noise.
That is until the beam sweeps over a bit more, and he catches a pair of eyes staring back at him. He jumps from the sudden discovery and aims his weapon. You don’t make any moves at him though. If anything, you look more frightened than he does. You were shaking like a leaf, wide eyes full of fear. He slowly lowers the gun and takes in the sight of you. Floppy ears sprout from the top of your head and a fluffy tail is tucked between your legs. He figures out you’re one of those hybrids he’d heard about. He thought they had only been approved under government supervision for now, but here you were in his backyard.
“Hey there,” he calls as he begins approaching you with caution. He hears you whimper through the darkness, and his heart aches at the vulnerable noise. He closes the gap between the two of you and crouches down to where you had cowered against the fence. You shy away from him, trying to scoot away though you’re prevented by the barrier behind you.
“I’m not going to hurt you,” he says gently, “What’s your name?”
You look at him for a moment as if you’re contemplating whether he was worth trusting or not. Eventually, you make your decision and respond with your name. Your voice is quiet, so soft he can barely hear it.
“I’m Chris… Are you lost?” he asks. He honestly had no clue why you would be here. It wasn’t like you were a loose housepet. A hybrid like yourself should’ve been stowed away in some facility with the other pups, doing… whatever they did with your kind. He never had the time to look into it much. It wasn’t his sector.
You shake your head as a response, but it doesn’t look like you even believe it. He scans the light over you, looking for any clues as to your origin. You look like you’ve been on your own for a while. You’re littered with cuts and bruises, and you don’t look like you’ve had a shower in a while. The clothes you wear are plain and functional. They look uniform, government-issued. Something glimmering dangling from the pocket of your sweats catches his eye. He pulls the chain and fishes out some metal tags that confirm his suspicions. They were government issued, displaying your ID number, birthday, and division code. He dangles them in front of you.
“What are these, hm?” he inquires.
Your hand shoots out and yanks them back. “Nothing,” you deflect, looking away.
His eyebrow raises. “I told you. There’s nothing to be scared of. But you’re in luck anyways. I work for the BSAA. I’ll have you home in the morning,” he says.
“That place isn’t home. I’m not going back,” you say with a bit of a growl. The first moment you don’t look like a skittish pup. His interest in you grows.
“Why not? You got somewhere else to be?” he asks.
Just as quick as the fight appeared in you, it vanishes. You shake your head and cast your eyes downward. “I don’t have anywhere, but I’m not going back,” you say, quiet determination in your tone.
“Alright… but what am I supposed to do with you? Can’t just keep you in my backyard,” he says, “I’m sure if you got lost it will be no trouble getting you back in.”
“No!” you say, almost sounding pleading. Frustration flashes across your face as you try to figure out what to do. You look up at him again and decide to take the leap of trusting him. You explain why you won’t return to the hell that is your division of the BSAA. You briefly recount the horrors, the inhumane treatment, the suffering.
Chris listens intently. He lets you speak and doesn’t interrupt once. While he wants to say that could never be true, he knows better. And because it is the truth, he knows he could never take you back to a place like that. No one should have to live like that, but especially not a cute little puppy like yourself.
“How about you come inside with me? You can shower, eat, do whatever you need to. Then we’ll figure something out in the morning,” he offers.
You nod. He stands up and sticks out his hand for you. Looking up at him, you take it and let him pull you to your feet. As you follow him inside, you get a better look at him. He’s tall, but even more noticeable, he’s built. He’s maybe the beefiest guy you’ve ever seen. You can only imagine how strong he is with those thick biceps. How easy it would be for him to hold you down. His legs looked powerful too, like he wouldn’t even stumble if you squirmed around in his arms…
Guiding you into the house, he takes you through the living room and down the hall to the bathroom. Everything here was small but cozy. You liked the size of it, much different from the vast government rooms you were used to. They were big but always filled with bulk-ordered, industrial furniture. Everything there was overly sanitized. Here, it looked lived in.
“So shower’s in here. You’ll have to use my soap cause that’s all I’ve got. Towels are in here too,” he lists off after opening the bathroom to you. He scratches the back of his head awkwardly before continuing. “Can you do everything you need to yourself?”
“Yes, I can do it all myself,” you huff with a glare.
He raises his arms in surrender and backs out of the bathroom to let you have some privacy. You shut the door, and for the first time in a while, you have the luxury of being alone in a room that locks from the inside. You take your time in the shower, scrubbing away the months of roughing it. You didn’t even care that it was “his” soap. He smelled nice, and it felt so good getting clean. When you’re done, you get out and dry yourself off. It’s at this moment that you realize he didn’t give you any clothes.
You timidly peek out of the bathroom, ears bowing. “Chris?” you call.
He appears after a moment. “Yeah?” he answers.
When he sees you wrapped in a towel, he quickly averts his eyes. He grumbles to himself as he comes to the same realization you had moments earlier. He goes into his room and gets one of his shirts and a pair of his sweats for you. He’s quick to bring it back and hand it to you through the sliver of space left by the open door.
Before you retreat to the bathroom, he catches one more glimpse of your body. Your pretty legs and soft skin. Now that you’re clean, he can really see your cute face and delicate features. He shakes his head and gets himself focused again before he heads back to the kitchen.
On the other side of the door, you begin putting on the clothes he gave you. They’re huge on you to the point that it’s almost comical. You roll the sweats as much as you can, but they still struggle to stay up. What really gets you though, is his scent. It’s all over these. You press the cloth to your nose and take in the heady masculine smell. You’re nearly loopy with how it makes you feel, the urge to be claimed flaring up within you.
After you finish dressing, you join him in the kitchen. You hop up onto a seat at the counter while he fidgets with something in the corner. He brings over a plate with a sandwich to you.
“I didn’t really know what you liked, but I’m sure you're hungry,” he says simply.
You nod appreciatively and begin eating. While you’re occupied with that, he goes into the living room and sets you up a bed on the couch. He lays out a few thick blankets and puts some pillows down. It isn’t much, but he’s sure it’s better than wherever you’ve been sleeping on your own.
Once you’re done with your food, you go into the living room and watch him fluff up the cushions for you. He gestures for you to lay down once he finishes, and you do so. He feels a protective urge spark inside him. He doesn’t know how you’d feel about any kind of affection, but he just wanted to do something nice before you slept. He reaches down and brushes some hair out of your face before giving your ear a light and playful tug.
“See you in the morning, pup,” he says instead before exiting to his bedroom.
You squirm a little from the gesture, but a shy smile graces your lips. Your first hint that maybe he wasn’t such a stiff. After he left, you pull your pillows into place and cover yourself with the blankets he provided to try and sleep.
A couple of hours go by though, and you’re still awake. The makeshift bed he created for you was much better than anything you’d slept on in a while, but you still couldn’t get yourself to drift off. You shift around for a bit, trying to get comfy. Nothing works. You whine and kick the blankets off yourself. Huffing with irritation, you try to figure out what it is. Part of you already knows, but the other half soon catches up.
His scent. It was all over you now that you’d bathed in his soap and were wearing his clothes. It followed you everywhere you went. It told you everything you needed to know about him on an instinctual level. With every breath, your body ached for him. Deep down inside, you wanted him there with you, holding you, whispering that everything was ok, that you were a good girl.
You look over, down the hall at his door. It was mostly shut, but a little crack was left open. It was basically calling for you to come in.
So you get up and pad across the hall. You’re sure to be quiet, set on not disturbing his rest. You slip through the door and make your way to the foot of the bed. You stand there for a moment. He was asleep, facing the edge of the bed, shirt off again. Your tail swishes slowly as you contemplate the idea.
‘Should I?’ you think to yourself. It was a risk, but you wanted to be near him so bad. You were tired of being alone.
So you decide to go for it. You kick off his annoying sweats. They kept pooling around your feet and tripping you, so they were left on the floor. You crawl onto the mattress and up the bed. He stirs, but you keep going. You’re quick to slide next to him, slotting yourself against his back. You wrap your arms around him and nuzzle against his warm skin.
That easily wakes him. His eyes flutter open, and he mumbles in confusion as he tries to turn around. It takes him a moment when you’re clinging to him like that, but he manages and looks down at you. He blinks a few times, watching with bewilderment as you tuck yourself against his chest and nestle your face against his muscles.
“What are you doing?” he rasps.
Your head snaps up at the sound of his voice. Not wanting to get kicked out, you look at him with the best timid puppy dog eyes you can manage. “It’s cold out there,” you say sadly.
“I gave you blankets,” he says. 
You sigh a little. Clearly, he was dense in more ways than physical.
“I got lonely too… It’s hard for me to sleep alone,” you say, starting to pout a little.
He continues looking at you. He wasn’t completely oblivious. He knew how much you had been through so far. What kind of guy would he be to deny you some comfort in your time of need?
“Alright, c’mere,” he sighs and pulls you into his chest all the way, wrapping those big arms around you. One hand rubs your back while the other strokes your hair. “Get some sleep, pup. You need to rest.”
You nod obediently and settle in. With his warmth and scent engulfing you, you’re out like a light. It’s not even ten minutes later before he senses the soft, even rhythm of your breath, letting him know you’re asleep. He shuts his eyes too, dozing off for the night.
In the morning, when Chris wakes, he feels you before he sees you. He feels your warm body pressed to his, your quiet breaths fanning over his skin. He cracks his eyes open and finds you looking as precious as he imagined, tail twitching in your sleep. It was at that moment that he knew for certain that there was no way he was letting anyone else at the BSAA get their hands on you. He wouldn’t be able to rest ever again knowing you were locked away, hurting and sad.
He waited a little while after you woke up to pitch the idea, not wanting to startle you with such a big life change the second you opened your eyes. But once he did lay out the possibility of staying with him, you were all in. Chris’s house was a thousand times better than a park bench or alleyway, and you thought he was pretty nice.
Of course, after a few months of staying together, you both thought much more of the other than “pretty nice.” You loved him, and he completely adored you. You were the piece from his life he didn’t even know was missing. You gave him love he never felt anywhere else and let him express love in return. You were the sweetest little thing he’d ever come across, so affectionate and loving, but you were funny too, always making him laugh with whatever you got up to.
As he spent more time with you, he loved finding out things you liked and little quirks about your personality. He found you loved sitting in his lap, loved curling up with a nest of blankets. He found he loved buying you things in your favorite color just to see your eyes light up. Never did he think his room would be crowded with stuffies and other things of that nature.
It only took no time at all for him to understand how playful you were. He could never be bored with you around. You always wanted to mess with him. You’d taken to calling him “daddy” pretty quickly. The first time he’d heard you say it, all his thoughts came to a screeching halt.
“What’d you say?” he asked.
You repeated yourself confidently with no indication that you’d done anything out of the ordinary. He tried to explain to you why that maybe wasn’t the best idea, but you put on the same puppy dog eyes that convinced him to let you stay in bed on your first night. So from then on, he had a cute puppy girl running around his house calling him daddy.
Even though he wasn’t crazy about it at first, he justified that if it would make you happy, it was worth it. Soon enough though, that word falling from your lips was his favorite sound in the world. He told himself it was because it showed how comfortable you were with him. It definitely wasn’t because he felt his blood rushing south whenever you curled up to him and looked at him with those big sweet eyes saying you loved your daddy.
You also always wanted to play. Whether it was chase or wrestling, the two of you weren’t going to relax until you were thoroughly tired out. Chris loved seeing you have fun, but these games made it harder to suppress the effect you had on him. When he’d chase after you, he'd force himself to just pick you up in the end and not pin you down and stuff you full of him till you were truly exhausted. Or when you’d wrestle, you’d wiggle your hips, whimper and whine, all while he had you underneath him. Every time he’d have to end it by going to the bathroom and jerking off real quick before returning to you.
It all came to a head though when you developed the habit of sitting between his legs while the two of you watched tv. You loved being surrounded by his strong arms, but there was something about being below him, encased by his massive thighs. You’d get comfortable with your blanket and just relax between his legs, resting your head against his knee. And that was fine, but then you wanted to look up at him. You’d turn around on your knees, gazing up at him like the lovesick puppy you were. And then one day you started to nuzzle your face against his lap.
“Hey, hey, baby, what are you doing?” he said quickly, trying to lift you off him before it was too late.
“Just showing you I love you,” you responded, continuing to drag your nose along his pants and even pressing little kisses to the area.
He squirmed a bit. Obviously, had he really wanted to, he could have pushed you off him in a second. But he didn’t want to hurt your feelings. Not to mention he liked how it felt. Once he’d given up his resistance, it wasn’t long before there was a large, hard bulge in his jeans. You were still his precious pup, but you were also a pretty girl rubbing her face all over his cock. He was only human.
You weren’t stupid. This is what you had wanted all along. It’s why you called him daddy, put yourself in every compromising position you could think of. You thought you made it completely obvious that you wanted him to take you and fuck you dumb whenever he felt like it. But all that went over his head, so this is what it came to. But fortunately, it seemed to work.
You freed him from the constraints of his pants and watched his cock spring to life. Timidly wrapping your fingers around it, you brought it to your lips. You licked it a few times and kissed the tip before sliding it into your mouth. Chris’s eyes fell shut as he groaned.
“Fuck, baby. Such a good puppy,” he grunted, tipping his head back.
You sucked with dedication, savoring the heavy weight of him on your tongue, the smell of his musk filling your nose. Your saliva dribbled down his cock as you bobbed your head. He petted your hair mumbling that you were such a good girl for him, such a pretty puppy.
You kept going, using your hand on the part your mouth struggled to cover. He pulsed in your mouth, his muscles tightening as he spilled his hot cum down your throat. You wanted to keep going, and that’s when he really had to use his strength to pull you off and lift you into his lap.
From then on, that became part of your shared routine. He found it was a way to keep you occupied that didn’t take much work on his part. He’d come home, and you’d scramble to the door to greet him. You’d talk a little about each other’s days. Then he’d sit on the couch, already undoing his belt, and ask “Does my pup think she deserves a treat?”
You’d vigorously nod, tail wagging as you positioned yourself at his feet while he pulled his cock out. You’d take it in your mouth as soon as he let you and just shut your brain off. Chris would watch your eyes go glossy as you drooled all over his shaft and lapped at his balls. He realized that this was a way to feel close to him more than anything else.
The first heat you had while living with him brought you even closer together than the countless blowjobs. He basically stayed buried balls deep in you for an entire weekend. He pumped you full with load after load, only taking small breaks when he absolutely had to. 
Even when you weren’t in heat, he felt like he could barely keep up with you sometimes. Your favorite way to play became to bounce on his lap till you couldn’t think straight or have him pound you into the mattress until it felt like the bed would break. He couldn’t complain though. How lucky was he to have such a loving pup?
Everyday with you in his life was brighter than the last. Today though, today was a very special day. Today was your birthday. He comes home from work, small bag in hand. As usual, the second you hear the front door shut, you rush to come see him. You fling yourself into his chest, nearly toppling him over despite your smaller stature.
“Woah, hey there, sweetheart. Miss me today?” he says. He ruffles your hair before wrapping his arm around you and walking to the kitchen. You were still clinging onto him as the two of you walked. Your tail brushes his back as it swishes with your excitement.
“Miss you everyday,” you murmur.
“Get in any trouble today, baby?” he teases.
“No, but the day’s not over yet,” you beam up at him.
He laughs lightly and shakes his head. “Well, I think I need you to hold off on that for a little longer cause I have something for you,” he says, lifting the bag and showing it off for you.
“A treat?” you ask excitedly.
“Mhm, a special treat for my birthday girl,” he says. He places the bag on the counter and smiles at you eyeing it with curiosity.
“What is it?” you ask, ears perking up.
“Why don’t you open it and find out?” he says.
So you do. You tentatively reach forward and take the plain white tissue paper between your fingers. Pulling out the sheets, you drop them to the floor and tilt the bag into your line of sight. Pale purple fluff sticks out of the top. You pull the object out and find a pretty stuffed bear, another you could add to the growing collection on your side of the bed. You look up at him, beaming. He laughs softly and shrugs.
“Glad you like it, pup. I got one more thing in there for you though,” he says.
He takes out a small square box and opens it. After he puts it on the countertop, you see it’s a cupcake decorated with pretty purple frosting. While you admire the color of the dessert, Chris reaches over you and sticks a candle in the top. He lights it up and tucks your hair behind your ear.
“I’m not gonna sing for ya, but I want you to make a wish,” he says softly.
You didn’t even know what to say. No one had ever even celebrated your birthday before let alone been so nice about it. You take a moment to contemplate what you’d even wish for. He steps closer and hugs you from behind, rubbing your arm.
“Go ahead, sweetheart. I won’t even ask what you wished,” he whispers and plants another kiss on your head.
You finally decide and blow out the candles. You then turn to him and hug him like you did when he first walked through the door. His hand runs over your head. He cracks another smile hearing you mumble a thank you.
“You’re welcome, baby. Just wanted you to have a nice birthday. You wanna eat your cake now?” he says.
You look up at him and shake your head. He would have been confused, but he recognizes the look in your eyes. You’re up to something. There’s a plan forming in that pretty head of yours.
“Oh? Why not?” he asks.
“Well, remember last night. You said we could do whatever I wanted tonight, and I said I had to think about it. But now I know,” you say as you take a step back from his large frame.
“And what is it that you want to do?” he asks, following with a pace in your direction.
You walk over to the door leading to the backyard, and your goal starts to become clear to him. “You were bad today, Daddy. You left the back door unlocked. Woulda been so easy for me to get out and run away,” you say with that mischievous lilt in your voice.
“Oh, but why would my puppy want to do something like that on her birthday? Thought you were my good girl. Good girls don’t behave like that,” he says, joining your game without hesitation.
“I am a good girl. But I get so bored,” you whine, “Need to run around.”
You open the door and step out onto the porch. He follows along, a knowing smirk rising to his face.Your tail goes back and forth behind you
“If you want to do that, you ask Daddy. I don’t know how many times I have to tell you Daddy knows best. You can’t be trusted out here on your own. You’ll get hurt and then come running home, crying. And you know it breaks my heart to see my baby upset,” he says.
“I wouldn’t do that. I’d be fine. Don’t need Daddy to take care of me,” you challenge. Despite your bratty facade, you could barely suppress your grin.
“Wow,” Chris says and places his hand on his chest, feigning hurt, “Who knew my puppy was so tough, hm? Is the same girl that whines me for more kisses? Clings to my legs every chance she gets? The same girl who begs me to breed her every single night? Maybe I’ve spoiled you too much. Made you an ungrateful little brat.”
Your face heats up and your ears fall. You struggle to think of a good response.
“That’s what I thought,” he chuckles, “So c’mon pretty puppy, get back in the house, and we’ll eat that cake in there. Bought it just for you.”
You shake your head. “It’s my birthday. I get to do whatever I want. You said so yourself, can’t take it back now,” you say before bolting out the gate and through the grass to the vast sea of trees behind the house.
He shakes his head and starts running after you. “Sounds like the only thing you want right now is for me to teach you some manners and pound that little cunt into the dirt,” he calls after you.
Your laughter carries through the open forest air. You prance over tree roots and under branches, occasionally looking over your shoulder to gauge how far behind Chris was. He bounds across the dirt along your trail. He tears through the foliage, biceps flexing against his shirt as he pushes the plant life out of the way.
Excitement courses through your limbs. You're breathing hard, your heart slamming against your ribcage while gliding through the woods. He’s gaining on you quickly though. Yeah, you were fast, but he was fast and had longer legs. If he wanted to, you’d be caught already. But a big part of the fun for you was the chase.
After a bit more running though, he decides it’s time to call it. He runs with extra speed for a few strides and lunges towards you. You squeal as he tackles you to the ground. He made sure you were engulfed by him though, shielded from any potential harm.
You both roll through the dirt, but at the end of your tussle, he’s on top, pinning you against the earth with a thud. He smiles down at you.
“Oh no, looks like my puppy’s birthday plans have been ruined,” he breathes while looking down at you in your compromising position.
“Mhm, it’s your fault meanie,” you whimper, attempting to jab your knees into his sides.
He dodges the weak attacks and laughs. “Too bad. I’m a meanie, and you’re my little brat. That’s just how it is,” he says as he begins pulling your clothes off you and piling them up nearby.
“Daddy!” you whine and swat at him, “Someone could see!”
He chuckles at that. He tears your panties off you and flips you over onto your stomach with ease. Leaning forward, he speaks into your ear.
“Yeah, and what are they gonna see? Just a responsible owner training his naughty little puppy. Don’t think anyone would object to that.”
He yanks you around some more, getting you into position. Your cheek is pressed to the dirt while your ass is in the air. He holds your hip and grinds his clothes bulge against your soaked pussy. You whimper from the sensation, rocking your hips onto the material as much as you can in his grip. You leave behind some slick on the fabric once you’ve pulled away.
“Look at you. Such a messy baby. We’re gonna have to train that out of you too,” he says.
Before you know it, his pants are down just enough for his cock to spring out. He lines up with your entrance and starts pushing in. Your walls embrace him like always, as if welcoming home. He groans from the warmth that squeezes around him while you gasp from the stretch.
He doesn’t give you much time to adjust before he starts pumping himself in and out of you. You whimper and dig your fingers into the ground, seeking some form of leverage for yourself. His hips bump into you over and over, dragging your soft cheek against the dirt.
“I’m not hearing any of that attitude now? What happened, pup, ten seconds on daddy’s dick, and you’re fucked stupid?” he mocks.
“No!” you mewl. Your hips are rocking back into his, meeting every single thrust.
“Whatever you say, birthday girl,” he grunts
He’s not gentle right now. His hips connect with your ass at a rapid pace, the clapping echo sounding through the trees. His fingers are digging into your flesh, his teeth poke his own lip as his own pleasure floods his body.
“I don’t know how many times I’ve had to teach you this same. fucking. lesson. You need your daddy,” he grunts, punctuating each word with a thrust, “You’re so stubborn, pup. Gonna have to do this even more than usual to get you to loosen up.”
You babble protests against the dirt and weakly shake your head.
“What’s that?” he asks with a particularly harsh thrust, “Talking back still? Guess I haven’t done good enough yet.”
He keeps up his thrusts, maintaining a consistent speed, but increasing the power. You jolt with each stroke. Your hands curl into complete fists. You cry out, your legs twitching in the dirt. Soon enough, you’ve given up on playing defiant and willingly fall into submission for him.
“Mmm, daddy… feels… feels good. Best daddy in the whole world,” you slur.
“Yeah, now that you’re getting some cock, I’m the best daddy ever. Funny how that works,” he teases as he continues to drill into you.
He watches you squirming on the ground beneath him. He leans down closer to you, pressing his muscular front to your back, letting you feel his size, how easy it is for him to keep you in place and use you for his pleasure.
“You know, sweet baby, I think I’ve got a solution for this problem you keep having, but don’t worry it’s one you’ll like,” he says.
“Wh- mmph- what is it?” you ask around whimpers.
“I’m just gonna have to do what you’re always asking. Gonna have to breed my pretty little puppy,” he answers.
“Gonna- gonna breed me?” you repeat.
“Yeah, baby, gonna breed you. Stuff you full of cum. And if it doesn’t take out here, don’t worry, I’ll make sure it does at some point tonight. Gonna have you carrying my babies by the end of the week,” he grunts with a smack to your ass.
You moan and nod excitedly. “Yeah, yeah, want it,” you slur.
“Oh, I know you do, and think about it, it will work out for both of us. You’ll be the prettiest mama for our pups, make me so proud every single day. And you’ll be too swollen to run off and get yourself hurt. Isn’t that great?”
A blissful smile spreads on your face. “Mhm, great. Smart daddy,” you say, your voice a clear display of how fucked out you are.
“Good girl. Daddy has to be smart to take care of his dumb little puppy, always causing trouble,” he says.
He felt you trembling hard, pulsing around his cock as you got close to cumming. He works himself deeper inside you, stroking all the places you need to reach that high point. A few more thrusts and you burst. You gush around him with a long whine. You squirm and buck as he holds you in place and keeps rutting into you until it becomes too much for him. He also lets loose and shoots his cum inside you. He fucks it into you a bit, before slowly pulling out.
You collapse onto your side, crumpling up on the dirt just like your clothes. He smiles at that, finding it so precious. He rubs your back gently and leans down to kiss your temple.
“Such a good puppy baby. My good girl,” he coos and scratches behind your ears.
He cleans himself off a little. It doesn’t take much work before he’s looking like he was before. You, on the other hand, are a whole other story. For you, he brushes the dirt off you as best he can, knowing you’re gonna need a bath after you take a nap. He then pulls your clothes back on, over your limbs which are mostly limp at the moment. Kissing your forehead, he scoops you up and starts carrying you back to the house. You’re all sleepy and clingy, tightening your arms around him and mumbling about how much you love him.
“I know, pup,” he reassures you, rubbing your back as he keeps heading towards the house.
Once he’s there, he takes you inside and flops down in his old recliner. He kicks it back and cradles you to his chest. You get comfy pretty quick, snuggling up to him and nuzzling his chest.
“That’s it, baby. Daddy’s got you. Get some rest, and then we’ll have some cake when you’re up,” he whispers.
You give one more drowsy nod before passing out on top of him. He holds you even closer, watching his precious puppy rest.
“Sweet dreams, birthday girl.”
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hunnylagoon · 4 months
Text
When I Was Your Girl
Stage Fright
Rockstar! Ellie Williams x pop star! Reader
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‘Fame is a poison most would drink happily despite the warning of a slow and painful death’
Premise: You and fell in love as nobodies and fell out of love in the limelight. Now you are forced to deal with ghosts who haunt you like a melody.
Warnings: small mentions of drinking and drugs / wee bit of violence / Ellie is a dick
Fake albums mentioned: Solstice / Smokey Eyes
I've never been anything more than a joke.
I'm so childish they took it for maturity, and I'm so serious they took it for silly.
Even since I began my career, I was spotted at eighteen by a skeezy producer when I sold myself at a strip club to make ends meet, because dreaming never paid the bills. I wish that I had been found somewhere else, maybe one of the restaurants I sang at on karaoke nights or the park where I poured my soul into art through my uncle’s old acoustic guitar. 
"How are you feeling right now?" A tanned woman with slick back hair shoves a microphone into my face while an emotionless man holds the camera. "I mean, seven years in the industry and you've just received your first Grammy nominations."
"I'm feeling kind of freaked out, to be honest," I face the woman with a sheepish smile on my face, trying the best I can not to look at the large camera lurking beside me.
"Rightfully," Her teeth are so white that they almost blind me and I get distracted by myself as I try to figure out whether they are veneers or not. "Do you think you'll be bringing any hardware home tonight?"
She moves the microphone back to my face and I flinch out of instinct, we both laugh for the camera but I can tell she's annoyed "Honestly, I'm just happy to be here, as corny as it sounds it is such an honour to be around so many incredible artists."
"So humble," She smiles then turns to the camera to address the viewers "I think we all know she's gonna be sleeping tonight with a golden gramophone under her pillow," She forces a laugh, trying to capture the raw essence of this overly manufactured moment. The interviewer turns back to me "Now, I know this isn't your first rodeo, is there anyone here you aren't looking forward to seeing, you don't have to name any names."
Fuck I hate these bloodsuckers. She is so obviously trying to milk my broken engagement which was still very much fresh. I uphold my false smile though and shake my head "Nope, if anything I think I'm looking forward to some mingling,"
She looks irritated, covering it up only by a close-lipped smile. "Well, then I'll let you get on with that."
I give her a curt wave and continue my way down the red carpet, maneuvering through other celebrities, we all have common ground, we are blinded by the flashing lights. I try my best to avoid any more journalists but I see Abby Anderson speaking to one and sneak up behind her, tapping her on the shoulder.
She turns around and greets me with a huge smile "I was wondering when I was gonna see you," Abby smiles and slings an arm around my shoulders looking to the journalist while I glance at the camera "I'm telling you, this girl needs to clear some space out on her trophy shelf."
I grin at her, genuinely. Abby had always been kind to me, we first met when I was nineteen and the both of us signed up for Atlantic Records. "She's just being nice," I say.
"And she's just being humble!" Abby squeezes me, it's a simple gesture but it means the world to me, it's her way of saying 'I got you'.
I shake my head "Abby is gonna be the real winner tonight."
The man holding a microphone in front of us smiles "We'll see who's right, my bet is both of you," He turns his attention to me directly "So I understand that you took a bit of a break after releasing your album, Solstice, is this considered your comeback?"
"Nope," I smile despite wanting to snatch the microphone from his hand and beat the camera with it until it shatters "There isn't anything to come back from."
He tilts his head giving the over-animated 'Are you serious?' look for whoever is watching. Every journalist was like a vampire trying to bleed me dry. The journalist, impeccably dressed in a tailored suit that exudes both sophistication and confidence searches his mind for another question "Well your album honestly was such a work of art and there has been talk that you are working on another one, is there anyone here that inspired any of those songs?"
"Nope."
"I think we should ask Ellie the same question," He laughs at his joke like it was funny. 
"And I think we should be heading off now," Abby answers for me and guides me away from the barricade of reporters and journalists, away from the cameras prying into my soul.
As I walk along the red carpet, I don't bother to stop and pose for any more pictures, I pick up the long skirts of my dress and usher myself to weave between the other celebrities. I nearly turn my ankle and take a tumble, wow, sure glad that 30 photographers caught that moment.
I was drenched in a deep, enchanting shade of midnight blue, the gown captivated with its sleek silhouette. The magic shows in the intricate details that adorn the fabric, reminiscent of the cosmos itself. Delicate embroidery of constellations graces the entire dress, forming a celestial tapestry that seems to come alive under the harsh shine of lights. The celestial patterns are meticulously sewn into the fabric, resembling a night sky filled with stars and constellations, creating an ethereal and otherworldly charm. Paired with the constellation dress, I wear a diamond choker and matching teardrop earrings.
I had lost Abby at some point in my little runaway leaving me to get into the auditorium where the award ceremony is to take place. 
Nearly the very second I walk in I hear a man yell my name, he is seated in the second row and it takes an awkwardly long amount of time for him to jog over to me. "Hey, kid!" He grins, hugging me, I don't hug him in return, I just freeze. It was Graham Wilson, I could smell the liquor on his breath.
Graham Wilson was a man who used to write very successful rock songs in his twenties with his band (the majority now deceased), he was nearing his sixties and was the definition of a has-been. I remember when I was a kid and I would listen to him on my iPod; though in recent days he's become known for ridiculous stunts, DUIs and homophobic tweets, even better known for how he found out I was gay and announced that he was no longer homophobic because, in his words 'Those gays can sure write good music' and then thanked me in his tweet, even tagging my account.
His frame carries the weight of a bygone era, specifically his beer belly. His once-lustrous, shoulder-length hair has succumbed to streaks of gray, hanging limply around his face like faded echoes of a rebellious past. Despite the passage of time, a few remnants of the rockstar allure linger - a faint scar above his right eyebrow, a reminder of a wild night in an underground club, and the subtle tattoos peeking out from under the sleeves of his wrinkled suit jacket.
"Hey, Graham," I give him a tight-lipped smile out of courtesy, in no means do I wish to talk to him. 
"You better win best album tonight," He gives me a hard slap on the back. Every time I see him he acts like we're friends just because he was a judge on a singing reality show that I was on seven years prior.
"I'll try my best," I try to excuse myself but he speaks again.
"I said seven years ago when I saw you on that stage that you were gonna be a star so don't let me down," He points a finger at me and gives me a weird smirk. When he smirks I almost think he's having a stroke until he starts to laugh and reveals his rows of teeth that are beginning to rot from his not-so-subtle drug abuse.
"Okay," I give him a nod and a quick wave goodbye to sneak away and pretend that I didn't converse with him. It seems like I'm early to take my seat, people are still piling in and being ushered to their spots, and seat fillers are standing around sheepishly while they try to take discreet photos of celebrities.
My seat is on the end of row two, right on the aisle, I feel myself split into a grin. If you weren't aware, Who sits where is a major status symbol. And though awards show organizers may deny it, it's awfully convenient to be sitting in the front row or on the aisle if you're about to accept a ton of trophies.
I was shaking with nerves, I got nominated three times and maybe there was hope that I would win at least one category.
When I saw Ellie I almost wanted to hide my face, she walked in with a new girl she slung her arm around, Jesse, Dina, and Cat in tow. I'm thankful to see that they're sitting front row of the opposite section of me and have yet to notice me.
I'm not sure if you have ever fallen in love, dated, gone on tour, moved in together, adopted a dog, written a couple of songs, got engaged, then broken up with someone and had the entire thing be documented publically but it's not the best feeling when you have to be in the same room as them again.
Everything with Ellie used to be so perfect.
The first thing I ever noticed about her were her eyes, her sad eyes. She looked like a puppy that had been kicked around for far too long; neglected and mistreated by whoever was cruel enough to show her such torment. Her eyebrows furrowed like each thought running through her head was a worry.
It's hard to look at her now, I know this girl inside out but we are strangers. 
I liked to pretend that the beautiful girl she was with was just there for show but I knew it was untrue when I saw her snake her hand around her waist just like she did to me. She runs through girls like they're cigarettes, she uses them until they burn out or she grows sick of them.
Two years ago at this very same award show, Ellie accepted Song of the Year for the song she wrote about me, 'Everlong'. She had even invited me on stage during her speech and announced to the world how in love she was with me.
If only I knew I could come to hate someone I used to love to death.
My hate was only solidified when Ellie and the Ashmen dropped their most recent album titled 'Smokey Eyes' just three months after our broken engagement. The entire album was about me and dear god it almost ruined my career.
Ellie had managed to paint me in a horrible light that made me seem like the scum of the earth. She wrote about me having substance issues and overall just sang happily about how much she despised me. Her song 'Me vs Your Friends' wrecked me. After speculation began over that song online, her fans decided that they loathed me just the same as Ellie did; this meant that I was doxxed, sent death threats, had my home broken into, and forced to move.
She wasn't the slightest bit sorry.
I spent the award ceremony dazed out, to be truthful, these types of events were boring. They dragged on for ages and you had to sit through the same generic speeches over and over again of people thanking their parents and producers, I hated both of those.
I watched as Amelia Swan walked on stage, she was a nepotism baby, the daughter of some big-shot director and beautiful all the same. In the glittering spotlight of the grand award show stage, a vision of elegance takes center stage as the next announcer for the evening. A beautiful woman, her porcelain skin seemingly kissed by moonlight, graces the audience with a timeless allure. Her dark, cascading hair frames her face in a sleek, sophisticated manner, accentuating the delicate features that radiate a captivating charm.
Draped in a resplendent pink gown, the fabric sits tight against her slim body. The gown is a masterpiece of design. Its silhouette accentuates her figure with tasteful precision, while the soft hue of pink complements her fair complexion.
"Hello!" She smiles and the crowd begins to cheer "I'm going to cut to the chase because I know all of you are as excited to find out the winner as I am."
Amelia begins to go through the nominees, my breath hitches in my throat when she says my name, though I play it cool the best I can and smile softly when the camera zooms in on me in the crowd.
Her eyes, framed by carefully styled lashes and a hint of rosy eyeshadow, exude warmth and confidence. Lips adorned with a subtle shade of pink curve into a welcoming smile, inviting the audience to share in the excitement of the announcement. 
"The winner of Album of the Year is..." I could've sworn I nearly passed out when Amelia said my name.
Nothing felt real, it was like I was living the dreams that I made up when I was a little girl staying up late in my uncles back yard, talking to the indigo sky and speaking to it with delusions of security and stardom.
I shake when I stand up from my chair. The person next to me hugs me and I don't even know who she is but I hug her in return.
Amelia gestures for me to join her on stage with a huge smile on her face. I make my way down the aisle and up the steps leading to the stage. Amelia handed the statue of the golden gramophone to me along with the microphone to give my speech.
At this moment, the stage is my kingdom "I didn't prepare anything because I honestly didn't think I would win but I'd like to thank my little sister, Marceline, and my late uncle, Richie, god rest his soul. Everything I've done leading me to this moment has been for them, every lyric, every night I'm up till dawn writing. Even though Richie can't be here in person, I carry a little piece of him with me everywhere I go, he's all around me, I see him in the songs I write, in the melody of an acoustic guitar, and in the faces of those gentle enough to show me kindness."
The audience applauds for me, even Ellie who stares me down bitterly. I had sung in front of thousands of people but it would never compare to this moment.
I wipe a tear away from my eye "I would also like to thank all of my fans, you guys are just the fucking best," I giggle through my crying "I feel like you've been sent down by Richie and Marceline I know you're watching me right now, please give my dog some love for me. Please know that I don't come from anything, I was born from dirt and dreams for something more than a ratty town in Canada."
I lived for the applause.
"I mean, I've always been good and never great so this means a lot to me-
Ameilia places a hand on my shoulder to stop me "There was a bit of a mix-up," She announces "I'm sorry, love, you didn't win," She says just to me, dark eyes full of remorse.
"What?" I almost think it's a sick joke.
Amelia holds the microphone to her face to be heard by the audience "I'm not joking," She shows the contents of a card to the crowd "The real winners for album of the year are Ellie and the Ashmen for their album Smokey Eyes." Gasps sound from the audience and I can only imagine what those watching from home are doing
The camera pans to where Ellie, Dina, Jesse, and Cat sit, Ellie is laughing; not laughing, cackling, it only grows and now she's laughing so hard she can barely breathe. Suddenly I didn't feel like I was king of the world, it felt like the desolation of a hangover had hit me in the span of 90 seconds.
Dina gives Ellie a harsh elbow to her bicep, telling her to be respectful. The four of them rise from their chairs and make their way up to the stage, where I stand, paralyzed.
"Congratulations," I give Ellie a tight-lipped smile and hand the award off to her.
She smiled smugly at me and took it "Thanks, smokey eyes," Ellie held the statue up to display it. Smokey eyes was a nickname she had given me when we first met since I always had dark circles she said they looked like smoke from a forest fire. I told you that album was about me. What made me more mad is that it was such a stupid fucking nickname.
My mouth goes dry, it tastes like salt and failure.
I take many steps back, trying to hide myself at the back of the stage while I watch the Ashmen bathe in the glory I thought was mine.
"I didn't prepare anything because I honestly didn't think I would win," Ellie begins to mock me "But I'd like to thank my best friends, Dina, Jesse, and Cat, I couldn't have done it without you," She motions at her band members beside her "But I also couldn't have done it without my dad, thank you, Joel, you're out there in the cheap seats but I fucking love you," She waves out into the crowds somewhere before handing the microphone off to Dina.
"I am so beyond grateful-
"No!" Someone yells from the ground and all attention turns to him "This is not fair!" Graham shouts, walking up the stairs. Everyone in the room looks at one another trying to figure out what is going on. Graham snatches the microphone from Dina "I'm proud of you four but listen."
Everyone is silent completely, no one is sure what to do so we let Graham continue.
"I met everyone on this stage seven years ago," He throws one arm out for dramatics "Except for Amelia, I don't know you," Graham is more dishevelled than he was when I saw him earlier that night "Let me tell all of you that Ellie was in love with this girl since the day they met!" Graham points at me, now things are getting weird, well weirder. “I know because I was there and you all saw it on TV!”
It was no secret that Ellie and I were together since we met on Road to Stardom, a singing reality show where people compete for-well, stardom. Every step of our relationship had been very public, not by choice but by unfortunate circumstances. It is for this reason I was afraid of what Graham would spout next.
"Without her, Smokey Eyes wouldn't have ever been written, Ellie would've had no inspiration for it," He babbles "But more so my point is, Solstice deserved to win, Smokey Eyes is mediocre at best!"
People in the audience look genuinely concerned, I spot Abby in the third row. She has one hand covering her mouth from pure shock, her eyebrows are furrowed and she almost looks like she's going to throw up.
 "Solstice is the best album to listen to when you're high off salvia on your bathroom floor!" Graham points back at me.
I see Cat mutter something to Jesse along the lines of "He's not wrong."
"Smokey Eyes has three good songs and Solstice has thirteen!" Graham suddenly stops to turn and look at me, he grabs my wrist "Come up here and finish your speech," I shake my head no but he pulls me up anyway.
I freeze, petrified. My eyes are wide and my lips are pressed together in a thin line. I didn't know what to do. Why wasn't anyone doing anything?
Graham's head suddenly snaps from me to Ellie where he takes an intoxicated step closer to her "Give me that damn award, you don't deserve it, especially not after mocking the woman who inspired it!" He lunges for the statue, at first Ellie is stubborn and holds onto it tight.
After 30 seconds of Graham trying to pry the stature away, Ellie gives up and releases it, figuring it best not to fight with a drunk man; in doing so Graham's elbow flies back from sudden loss of resistance and hits me dead in my nose. I yelp out in pain bending over into a crouch and clutching my nose. Graham stumbles back and trips over me, though he is still holding on tight to the statue.
Jesse approaches him slowly. "Hey, man, It's me, I think we should all just settle down and talk this through," He tries to act cool but his eyes are full of worry "I agree, I think Solstice is a great album and it really deserved to win."
Graham clumsily rolled onto his stomach and then stumbled back onto his feet. He was staring Jesse down like this was the Wild West.
Dina rushed over to me to make sure I was okay "Let me see," She gingerly moved my hands away from my nose, it had been knocked crooked and blood was pouring down to my chest where it pooled at the neckline of my dark dress.
Graham chucked the golden gramophone at Cat who jumped back when he did so and took a swing at Jesse who didn't move an inch or even shudder from his drunken punch. It also didn't help Graham that he was a solid four inches shorter than Jesse. Just as Graham was hyping himself up to send another hit, two bulky men grabbed either of Graham's arms and dragged him off the stage and out of sight.
I went home that night with nothing more than a broken nose, and no award but I could rest knowing that night went down infamously in history. My blood dripped onto the stage of the Grammys.
That was the night I truly became famous.
Grade eight- Age thirteen 
Middle school is hard.
Even harder when you have two friends, one of them is a guy who is obsessed with Star Wars and is hardly at school because he's always having an allergic reaction, and the other friend is my English teacher. I ate lunch in her class while he graded schoolwork on days that Milo was too sick to show up for school.
I never understood why kids are so fucking mean. Like sometimes I'm having a good day and then I remember when I sang at the middle school talent show.
Some kid who was destined to have a blunt in his hand finished doing tricks on his skateboard rolled off stage and it was my turn.
In the dimly lit auditorium, adorned with colourful decorations for the annual school talent show, I took center stage with my guitar, a blend of excitement and nervousness etched across my face. The hushed whispers of the audience faded as I strummed the first chords, the notes carrying the beginning to the first of many performances in my life
"If you gave me only one wish,
I wouldn't want to feel this way.
They told me I'd have your memory
But all I want is you to stay
And I can't stop my mind from haunting me,
It's like a scar on a butterfly's wing,
I wanted you to know."
I had worked tirelessly to perfect the lyrics to my first ever song, begging my uncle who was far more practiced for his input. This was way back when I still lived in fuck ass nowhere Alberta, I had that country twang in my high voice though it carried a specific tenderness.
"This beautiful pain that I feel is all because of you
And one day these bones will heal
And they'll leave me with the truth
And I'll give you everything if it's the last thing that I do.
This beautiful pain, this beautiful pain
This beautiful pain for you."
However, as I sang my little heart out, a different melody began to play in the background - the snickers and hushed comments of some classmates who couldn't appreciate the vulnerability I laid bare on the stage. Their laughter, like discordant notes in a once-harmonious piece, reverberated through the auditorium.
"If I sailed the world on stormy seas
Chasing sunlight that I can't see.
I was a dreamer here before,
Before I woke up and fell to the floor
And I'd climb to heaven if I could find you,
Even with a scar this butterfly flew.
I wanted you to know."
I spotted one group in particular, they hated me already and this would give them all the more reason to bully me.
"This beautiful pain that I feel is all because of you
And one day, these bones will heal
And they'll leave me with the truth
And I'll give you everything if it's the last thing that I do
This beautiful pain, this beautiful pain, this beautiful pain."
Maybe the lyrics were the slightest bit corny but I was thirteen and these girls were being little cunts. I bit back the tears I so clearly wanted to release when I saw a teacher had to walk over to the group of girls to stop their laughing. It wasn't just that one group though, kids scattered all over were fighting back giggles and that made it hurt all the worse.
"And all I'll ever need
And all I'll ever be,
Within every part of me is this,
This beautiful pain that I feel is all because of you
And one day these bones will heal
And leave me with the truth
And I'll give you everything 'cause it was all I ever knew.
This beautiful pain,
This beautiful pain,
This beautiful pain,
For you."
As the last note hung in the air, the room was divided. Some applauded, recognizing the authenticity of my performance, while others continued their derisive comments. So the majority who liked my singing were teachers, but that didn't matter, at least my music got through to someone.
The rest of the day was even more difficult than my three-minute performance, at least that was over quickly but the comments from Kennedy and her friends left me leaving school in tears.
I didn't go home that day, I walked the extra ten minutes to get to my uncle's house. Lugging my guitar and newfound hate for music with me. The façade, adorned with a mismatched collection of potted plants and a welcoming, hand-painted sign that read ‘Home Sweet Home’ hinted at my uncle's efforts to infuse joy into his surroundings. The paint on the wooden shutters might have faded, but they held stories of many seasons gone by. The roof, patched with a variety of materials, showed the resourcefulness of my uncle in their attempt to shield the interior from the whims of weather. 
He tried to make the house look nice for me and my little sister. He was by no means rich in money but rich in what mattered, the love he had for me was overflowing.
It wasn't a particularly nice neighbourhood either, his house was small, with two bedrooms and a basement I wasn't allowed in. But every time I think of the chipped blue walls, I feel a warm sense of nostalgia run down my spine.
"Who's there?" I hear Uncle Richie call from the kitchen where he is cooking something.
"Just me," I yell back, dropping my guitar case on the ground and belly-flopping onto his old brown leather couch that had more tears in it than I could count; he had tried to stich some of them up with embroidery floss but ultimately gave up, deciding to let it be since he couldn't afford to replace it.
"Why aren't you at your mom's, Chickadee?"
"I don't wanna see Mom right now, she's gonna put me in an even worse mood," I call back grabbing the TV remote off of the water-damaged coffee table.
"What happened?"
"I don't wanna talk about it."
Minutes later Richie walks into the living room to join me, he carries a bowl of Kraft Mac and cheese with two forks shoved in it, he taps the bottom of my socked feet, signalling for me to move them so he can fit on the couch with me. Uncle Richie has a buzz cut and beard stubble that I have never seen him without, he has never been seen without a flannel on, not as long as I've been alive. What I remember the clearest about him though was the scar beneath his right eye, when I was younger he would tell me that he got it from a pirate though I stopped believing that. "So are you going to tell me why you're sulking?"
I ignore him and he reaches for the remote to turn the TV off "Hey, I watching that," I mutter.
"Well I'm waiting for you to answer me, Chickadee," He tilts his head "Or you won't get any kraft dinner."
"I sang at the talent show today."
"And?"
"Everyone made fun of me."
He furrows his eyebrows "Why would they do that?"
"Why do you think?" I snark "Because I'm not good enough and I'm a bad singer and I have a shit guitar." I immediately regret my words. Uncle Richie was the one who gave me that guitar, it was all he could manage with his income, it was his back when he had dreams of his own but he fixed it up so I could pick up where he left off. The guitar itself had a cracking between the face and the side that was being held together with duct tape, not to mention the whole thing was basically reinforced with superglue and there were Sharpie drabbles on it of poems and potential songs Richie started that I will be sure to finish.
"This is the best guitar in the world," He reaches behind the couch where I left it slugs the case onto his lap and opens it to showcase the guitar "Because it's full of something money can’t buy, there is love built into this guitar and every time you play it you feel that love."
"I don't feel love when I play," I say, eyes brimming with tears.
"Then you're not playing right," He smiles, discarding the case on the floor "Did you play the song I helped you write?"
I nod "Kennedy said it was worse than shoving nails into her ears and that my guitar was decrepit and even more fugly than I am."
"Well Kennedy is a little cunt," He answers "Don't tell anyone I said that." His words make me giggle. I watch him intently as he begins to strum some chords on the guitar, the beginning of Beautiful Pain, he stops when I don't sing the lyrics, glancing at me until the words finally fall from my lips.
After the first two Stanzas, he hands the guitar off to me, nodding his head along to my gentle strums.
When I finish the song and strike the last chord, Richie claps a huge smile on his face "Do you feel the love yet?"
"I dunno."
"Then play again," He says "Don't think about those bitchy little girls," His tone is dead serious "You just gave all of those people a free performance, in ten years they are going to be paying hundreds just to get a bad seat at one of your shows and they will buried so far in the back of your mind that you won't even remember their names or all of those awful words they say to you, the only words that will matter are the ones you sing."
"So what do I do?"
"Play music because you love it, it doesn't matter if it takes you anywhere or if it makes you any money. That's why you should play, play for love not greed."
Wordlessly I begin the song over again, blocking out the rest of the world while I softly sing the lyrics. I strum each cord perfectly, my singing to match. I will forever think back to this moment, this is where I can pinpoint the exact second I fell in love with music.
I wrap up the song and Richie speaks up "Do you still want to watch TV?"
I shake my head "Can you help me write another song?" 
-
Sinjinisoverboard: I love love love the new single but does anyone else miss her debut era?????? I feel like she's sold out
     woodmonkey92: Reply to Sinjinisoverboard╰┈➤ this is so true, I remember when she would sing in parks and she was actually happy just being herself
     theend_is_n3ar: Reply to woodmonkey92╰┈➤ bruh you don't remember that, she was a nobody when she sang in parks plus she literally got heckled and ridiculed by her classmates so bad that she gave up on singing in public and almost gave up on music as a whole
     user37768638493: Reply to sinjinisoverboard╰┈➤ as much as I love her it really seems like she's fallen off the rails
conner_stoll_it: She's not even the same person anymore. I fell in love her original music and who she was when she wrote it, then she signed with a record label now she's an in-genuine copy of every pop star.
     Alina_b12: Reply to conner_stoll_it╰┈➤ you fell in love with her old music?? 💀💀💀 she wasn't even past 100 subscribers when she released her debut album and after she released she literally gained 11 listeners on Spotify to get a total of 24 so don't lie and say that you heard it before hearing her mainstream music
     Luciaisdonewithlife: Reply to conner_stoll_it╰┈➤ Her old music was so relatable, she got famous and it’s kind of hard to relate to someone who's net worth is more money then I can even fathom
     hazeinmorningcraze: Reply to Luciaisdonewithlife╰┈➤I think that's why it was so easy for everybody to side with Ellie during the breakup, Ellie kept true to who she is, her girlfriend however did not.
     Luciaisdonewithlife: Reply to hazeinthemorningcraze╰┈➤*fiancé
     hazeinthemorningcraze: Reply to Luciaisdonewithlife╰┈➤ ew don't remind me
     maiya_onthec0ast: Reply to conner_stoll_it╰┈➤ We should remember that no one listened to her when she released her debut music. She said in an interview that before she signed with Atlantic Records she had 24 listeners and 76 subscribers. We only know who she is because of her mainstream music, you aren't better than anyone for needlessly hating on her.
stargirlthesequel: God who else misses the southern twang she used to have in her voice?
      Vampire_empire2: Reply to stargirlthesequel╰┈➤LMAO acting like you know her is crazy
      Aline_b12: Reply to stargirlthesequel╰┈➤parasocial relationships are really becoming apparent rn
thismightbeskylarwwhiteyo: It's soooooo annoying when people hate on Solstice for being mainstream like all Ashmen discography isn't top on charters since they dropped their first album
     dancedancerev0lution: Reply to thismightbeskylarwwhiteyo╰┈➤I've been saying this! Ellie has been in the industry way longer, she's always had a big fan base, even when she was still a solo artist!
    elliespurplemonster: Reply to thismightbeskylaarwwhiteyo╰┈➤ Ellie Williams on 🔝
    call_urm0ther: Reply to elliespurplemonster╰┈➤ kys she treated her fiancé horribly
    elliespurplemonster: Reply to call_urm0ther╰┈➤ how would you know that????? Were you there??????
    follow_kendra88: Reply to call_urm0ther╰┈➤Ellie was the one who was treated horribly in that relationship, have you even listened to Smokey Eyes?
    ellies_no2girl: Reply to call_urm0ther╰┈➤Ellie was so in love and just got used for fame 🥺💔
     call_urm0ther: Reply to ellies_no2girl╰┈➤fuck off with your cringe ass emojis
sorryyileft___:You guys are so weird for saying Ellie was used by her ex for fame, they literally were on the same show at the same age at the same time and got thrown into the limelight at the same time, Ellie and the Ashmen just got more popular.
   mybodyisacage: Reply to sorryyileft___╰┈➤Ellie had a bit of a YouTube presence before she was on Stardom, it wasn't a crazy number but it was a cult following and that's why she won Stardom, bc she had fans to begin with then gained even more after being on national television
    elliespurplemonster: Reply to mybodyisacage╰┈➤She didn't win bc of following she won bc she's a good artist
    mybodyisacage: Reply to elliespurplemonster╰┈➤I never said she wasn't
bodhi_van34: I thought the whole thing at the Grammy's was an act until I saw all those news articles about Graham Wilson getting arrested
  carlyswarly: Reply to bodhi_van34╰┈➤They did a drug test when he got arrested and found coke in his system
    may0mayyyo: Reply to carlyswarly╰┈➤A busboy who worked the event said that Graham was doing cocaine in the bathroom
   body_van34: Reply to may0mayyyo╰┈➤ LMAO WTF 
charlotte_5freakingdidit: EVERYONE IS TALKING ABOUT ELLIE WILLIAMS BEING MEAN TO HER EX BUT GRAHAM WILSON LITERALLY ASSAULTED A POPSTAR ON STAGE AND TRIED TO THROW HANDS WITH JESSE LMAO IM DIFFUSING
juliaa__stirling: The way Ellie was laughing when Amelia said she messed up the cards was so rude and immature. Her fans are insane for defending her. All of that just because her ex fiancé gave a speech about working hard, imagine how she felt after being so honest with everyone just for her to not actually win and think about how she feels now reading all of these posts.
botoxangel: Celebrities have feelings too, Amelia made a mistake she's probably embarrassed but not as embarrassed as that poor woman is for putting her soul into a speech just for her ex and all of her fan girls to ridicule her for a mistake that wasn't even hers.
    karaleaah778: Reply to botoxangel╰┈➤exactly! And why are people blaming Amelia??? She was given the envelope by someone else, she genuinely thought her friend won.
carlosislost: Why is Graham even invited to these events?????????
katie_katelynsm1th: Reply to carlosislost╰┈➤Bc it's funny when he causes a scene
howto_nevrst0ppbeingsad: I know you guys think this Grammy situation is so funny but it's really not. Graham is clearly mentally ill, this is a cry for help.
   elleryc3llery: Reply to howto_nevrst0ppbeingsad╰┈➤Dude it's hilarious
  3emmettttt: Reply to howto_nevrst0ppbeing sad╰┈➤The way you're worried about the has been and not the girl whose nose he broke
allysaaaa663638: LMAO THE WAY SHE ACTUALLY THOUGHT SHE WON THE AWARD AND SHE DESERVED IT SHDBDBEGHWWBSV
jessicadacoolest: Ellie is so real for laughing bc I would've done the same tbh
hennyrumwine: Dumb bitch deserved to be hit lollllllll
4444carmencarmen4444: I love the Ashmen's music but I hate Ellie sm, I just feel like she's a fuck girl and she gives me very rude vibes. Like laughing at her ex and then mocking her heartfelt speech is INSANE anyways stream Solstice
sittingwaiting_wishing: I honestly have hated Ellie since the breakup, she's changed so much since then. She used to be funny now she's just mean.
carissaandher_h0ttakes: I still think it's kind of crazy that Dina and Jesse followed through with Ellie on Smokey Eyes because they were really close to her when she was engaged to Ellie, can't imagine how many ties that album severed
    elliessmokeyeye: Reply to carissaandher_h0ttakes╰┈➤I think about this all the time! She was literally the god mother for Dina and Jesses kid
     carissaandher_h0ttakes: Reply to elliessmokeyeye╰┈➤it make me think that she might've done something to them to make them hate her the way Ellie does, Ellie did say that she didn't write all of the songs for Smokey Eyes 🤔🤔🤔
"Do you see how this backlash doesn't look good for anyone?" My agent, Caroline asks after showing me several Twitter posts that are under the trending tag.
"Well, it's not really my fault."
"Nonetheless, I think It's time for a rebrand." She sets her phone face down and looks at me from across her desk "Do you remember when you went on tour with the Ashmen when you were around twenty-one?"
My eyes go wide, I'm already shaking my head "Please-
"This is an awful event that you can turn into an amazing opportunity and capitalize on it," The backdrop behind Caroline is almost blinding, it's an annoyingly hot LA day and I want nothing more than to be back in Canada and swimming in lakes with my little sister.
"Caroline, mentally I can't handle a tour with Ellie."
"Mentally, you're gonna have to," She says, getting stern "Your fans either hate each other or they love both of you and feel like their parents have divorced."
I know that I will argue with Caroline for the next hour and threaten to fire her but eventually, she will win, so until then I am preoccupied with thoughts of everything but Ellie, soaking in the last moments I will have until she envelopes my brain and suffocates me from the inside out.
I am sure that with Ellie, I will die before winter comes and I am doubtful that I will ever bloom again.
404 notes · View notes
Remember me, please (don't let me die a second time)
love is not designed for the cynical - series masterlist here
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pairing: jason todd x reader (gender neutral)
length: 1.7k
genre: hurt/comfort, angsty fluff
warnings: turns out your bf being dead for three years leaves some lasting scars on both of you, lots of talk of grieving and recovering
a/n: three posts in one night ok gnight I die now until next weekend
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Your legs swing back and forth where you're sitting perched on the counter of your kitchen, scrolling idly through take-out options on your phone while you wait for Jason. You'd sent him into the living room to put music on, admittedly, long enough ago to get suspicious, having told him that your record collection is expansive enough that he should be able to find something he likes.
Hopping off the counter, you make your way after him, turning the corner to see him standing in front of the bookcase next to your TV stand, staring at the records piled onto the shelves.
"Jay?" You ask gently, moving next to him to put a hand on his arm, smoothing over his skin under his t-shirt. He doesn't look at you yet, his eyes staying forward with his fists balled at his sides. You bring your hand up to brush through his hair gently and sigh.
"You'd talked about it so many times, you know," you explain. "The kind of turntable you'd get, the records you'd collect. When I started buying them for myself, I just thought… I don't know, it just felt right." Jason, as you speak, reaches forward to brush his fingers along the spines, tracing titles of all his favourites. He knows what you're talking about, of course - remembers the days of the two of you, young and broke and wandering the streets of Gotham, dreaming about all the things you knew you'd never really become. He just didn't think…
"I didn't," he clears his throat. "I didn't think you'd remember all this." You don't quite have it in you to hide your hurt at that.
"Of course… I remember everything about you, Jay. It's all - it was all I had left of you. Of course, I held onto it." There's an honesty in your words and Jason thinks he should be grateful for it, should thank you for cutting open your chest for him and letting him see inside. 
"You shouldn't have," is what he says instead, and you pull your hand away from where it had been resting on his shoulder, wrapping your arms around your waist, instead.
"I'm going to go order dinner," you say gently, and Jason squeezes his eyes shut. "Take your time." When you leave, going back to the kitchen to find your phone, he stays standing in front of the records, letting his fingers brush over all the edges of them. There's something real about seeing them, about seeing the ways in which your grief manifested, real and tangible and taking up all this space in your life.
He picks up one of them, eventually, the sound of you chatting on the phone with whatever restaurant you've decided on snapping him back into the present movement and leading him to grab it. When he gets it set up on the turntable, letting the music fill your apartment, your home, the life you built while you were waiting for someone you thought would never come back, Jason finds himself wishing, just for a moment, that you had just moved on.
The guilt, of course, immediately follows this as he digs the heels of his hands into his closed eyes before following you into the kitchen just in time to see you hang up and drop your phone back onto the counter. You smile when you see him, patient and understanding in a way that makes his stomach roll.
"Do you want a drink?" You ask him.
"I'll get it," is all he responds with, putting his hands on your waist to quickly move you back up to the counter, sitting you there before making his way to the fridge. You let him - you always let him, seemingly knowing when he needs to be kind, to do something good with this body of his. You let him pull a beer out of the fridge, popping the cap off and catching it. You let him wipe the condensation off of it before he hands it to you so that your palm doesn't get wet. You let him do whatever it is that he needs to do while he thinks whatever it is that he needs to think, sipping slowly while he stands between your parted legs.
"You shouldn't have waited for me," he says quietly, and you pause with the bottle half to your lips. 
"I wasn't waiting. I was remembering." You put the bottle down next to you on the counter, placing a cold hand onto Jason's cheek.
"You should've forgotten," he pushes.
"I chose not to," you retort, voice still gentle, hands still kind. "I didn't want to forget about you, baby. I couldn't let myself." Jason sighs, letting his head hang as his hands tighten their grip on the edge of the counter on either side of your hips.
"You deserve better than that, baby," he says sullenly, and you cup his cheek in your hand as you coax him to look at you.
"There is nothing better than the ways that you've loved me, Jason. I couldn't possibly deserve more," you say, blinking as your eyes mist over. Jason notices it, naturally, making a wounded sort of noise and cupping your face in his hands, his palms solid and warm and grounding as he leans his forehead against yours. 
"You wasted three years on me and I… I can't forgive myself for that. I can't forgive myself for doing that to you, for leaving you the way I did," Jason says, his voice choked. You pull back to look at him firmly.
"You didn't leave me, Jay - you were taken from me. I mourned you because I lost you. None of that is your fault… and it never will be." Your voice is clear when you say it and Jason almost, almost smiles at the stubbornness that you wear so well. But he can't help but see those records every time he closes his eyes and he can't help but imagine you buying them, putting them on your shelf one by one as you let the grief consume you.
"Did you ever date? While I was dead?" He says it easily - or, in a way that's supposed to seem easy, pulling away from you to get his own beer from the fridge and leaning against the opposite counter while he pops it open.
"Excuse me?" Is your only response. He doesn't say anything more. "No, Jason, I… No. No, there was never anyone other than you. You know that - I've told you that. If you don't believe me, I -" "I believe you, baby," he says, and the relieved slump of your shoulders only lasts until he speaks again. "I just think you were wrong for that."
"I beg your pardon?"
"You should've moved on with your life," he says, and there's a hard edge to his voice that you're sure you don't appreciate being pointed in your direction. "You should've moved on from me."
"Well…" you say carefully. "That's not a decision you get to make for me. And it's not a decision that holds a lot of weight now, seeing as you're, well, alive and standing in my kitchen wearing my sweater."
"You wasted three years on me," he presses on. You stiffen.
"I grieved for three years," you retort. "I sent flowers to your grave every week for three years. I - I built a home and a life for myself and I had to do it without you and, yes, I tried to fill that life with whatever pieces of you I could hold onto because I loved you and I missed you. And you're telling me now, what? I should have just gotten over it?" Jason stares at you through your outburst, at your trembling lip and watery eyes and your hands, fists clenched so tight he's sure your nails are digging into your skin. He stares, eyes wide and mouth open as he searches for words, until you burst into tears.
That, of course, is enough to have him lurching forward, slamming his beer bottle onto the counter as he gravitates towards you, slotting himself between your parted legs again to shush you and hold you and wipe the tears from your cheeks.
"I'm sorry, baby," he whispers, over and over. "I'm so sorry, please don't cry for me." Your palm connects with his chest as you slap him weakly, your other hand scrubbing at your eyes.
"You still don't get it, Jay," you lament. "You're the only person worth crying for." He laughs a bit at that, finally, and pulls you impossibly closer.
"I'm sorry, pretty," he says again, his lips pressed to your forehead. "I just…" 
"I know, baby," you sigh, letting yourself relax against him, your tears slowing as you sniffle. "I know."
"I love you so much," he says earnestly. "And I - I'm grateful that you waited. That you remembered. I…" he sighs then, his grip tightening on you as he blinks back his own tears. "Thank you for remembering me," is all he says, and he hopes so desperately that the way he clutches onto you will help you realize how much it all means to him.
"Of course, Jay," you soothe, running a hand through his tousled hair. "That's what being loved is, I think. It's remembering. And I… I love you always, you know? I'm happy to remember you, always - even when that's all I have left of you." Jason sighs at your words, his eyes squeezing shut. He knows what you mean - knows his mask will claim his life once again, that you'll be left alone once more. You never talk about it, too scared to bring it up, but you both know the truth. The possibility is just too high that one day, Jason won't come home for the second time. 
He isn't sure who takes more comfort in knowing that he's solidified in your life enough that he'll never really be gone. He isn't sure it's so good - that he wouldn't still prefer you move on to something with hope and safety and happy endings.
But he knows that he's loved and that he's remembered, and that's enough for him to settle for tonight.
253 notes · View notes
1d1195 · 2 months
Text
Ding - Round 1
I had this little idea. The meeting came to me in a dream, no word of lie. Classic little trope, I know. I'm hoping to work in some smuttier things down the line. Hope I do it justice and you like it 💕 Erring on the side of caution; probably not suitable for Ramadan
You'll be able to read the rest here eventually: Ding
~3.8k words
As she did the wind took her door not much, nor hard but enough to bump into the car beside her.
The man rolled the window down, his deep green eyes, still blank. “You’ll have t’pay for that,” his voice was low and gravelly.
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It was cold and rainy all day long. It made her want to curl up in a ball with a good book on her sofa and not get up for hours and hours. The kind of day where she wished she wasn’t an adult, and she was back home. Back when her dad would make her hot chocolate, they would watch old movies, and he would give insider information into all the hubbub that happened behind the scenes. How the actors interacted and when the props failed or something of that nature.
Her father was a great film critic. But he always said “even ‘bad’ movies have good.” She had seen tons of movies. Summers during school were filled with at least one movie a night. Sick days were made for marathoning series. When they weren’t watching movies, he was taking her to baseball games, teaching her how to cook—“the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach, honey”—and making sure that she knew how to be spoiled by any man that deigned to enter her life. She was handy around the house and fiercely independent.
As much as she enjoyed cooking with her dad, baking was her real passion. She loved the science of baking: how butter affected cookies, temperature changed the consistency of cakes, and nothing made her happier than playing with baking powder and baking soda to change the rise of her pastries.
It led her to this spot. This little bakery. School for business and plenty of classes on cooking and baking. At the age of twenty-seven she was extremely lucky; for the last three years her business had been so successful. It was in local and state magazines about a hot spot for tourists and one of those shops that everyone just loved.
She wished her dad could see it but knew he would be proud of her regardless.
A strong gust of wind pulled her from her thoughts. There was a late-night closing report she needed to go over—a favor to her regular closer who needed to get home to her little baby. But really, A Pinch of Sprinkles was her baby and she loved to be in the little shop that smelled like the cupcakes she loved making.
She zipped her coat up, pulling her hood over her hair. It was hardly any further than a 40-yard dash to her little bakery door but in a steady rain like this, she thought not even her rubber boots would be enough to keep her dry for the short little sprint she would have in just a moment. She thought of her dad again, who would have run around to her door and held an umbrella over her head before getting out in the rain. With a deep, sad sigh, she braced herself, opened her door and reached for her umbrella and purse on the passenger seat.
As she did the wind took her door. It wasn't much, nor hard to create real havoc, but enough to bump into the car beside her. “Fuck,” she hissed getting out quickly, her belongings be damned her hair getting wet and stringy almost immediately. She slammed her door shut, turned to the car beside her, and made eye contact with the person in the driver’s seat. Her lips parted slightly, heart hammering in her chest. There was hardly anything more than a bit of a ding on the the stranger's car but the unmoving gaze that returned from the front seat intimidated her immensely.
The man rolled the window down, his deep green eyes still blank. “You’ll have t’pay for that,” his voice was low and gravelly.
It felt like thunder was inside her chest, the way her heart was thudding against her ribs. An intimidating man, his hair not quite buzzed off but not quite much more than an inch or two long, deep, soulful eyes. His gaze didn’t drop from hers. It was like he was having a staring contest.
“I... am... so sorry,” she whispered. She wasn’t afraid to admit she was terrified. It wasn’t that she was terrified of men. But in a dark parking lot and someone who looked so intimidating... well it was a modern-day-female nightmare.
The man smiled and suddenly he was no longer intimidating. Dare she say, he was even cute. The left half of his mouth quirked up and he glanced down at his hands on the steering wheel, tapped a quick rhythm on it, and turned back to her. “S’okay,” he shrugged, rolling the window back up. He stepped out into the rain in the same motion, rain not bothering him as it began to soak his hair and slid down his face. The man was gorgeous. A walking ad for raincoats and umbrellas. He meandered over to where she stood. Her heart still pounded now for an entirely new reason. He shoved one hand in his pocket, the other reached for the blemish on his car. “See, jus’ a ding,” he rubbed his fingers over the little indent a few times before turning back to meet her gaze again.
His grin was adorable.
The air came out of her in a whoosh loud enough to rival the one that took her door right into his car. “I’ll pay for it to be fixed,” she promised.
He chuckled. “S’fine, love,” he assured her. “S’jus’ a ding,” he repeated with a shrug.
By now she was drenched. It wasn’t a downpouring, but the steadiness of the raindrops won out. Without any regard to how she was stood still between the two cars—soaking the inside of her seat as well—he leaned in, grabbed her purse, umbrella and closed the door behind him. Honestly, it didn’t even cross her mind that he was going to rob her. That alone should have raised about ten alarm bells in her head. Instead, for whatever reason, she felt safe.
He handed her own bag to her. It felt so strange. Like she didn’t know what to do with it. He paid no mind to her uneasiness. Without any acknowledgment of their weird meeting and their even weirder interaction thus far, he opened the umbrella and held it over the pair of them to keep a little dryer—even though they were both already soaked.
“Let’s go,” he put a hand on her lower back to usher her out from between the cars.
Reality and her brain finally restarted in her head. “Excuse me? Go where?”
He shrugged. “Well... y’did ding m’car. Assumed y’could at least come with me.”
“Come with you where?” She repeated incredulously.
“Oh right, sorry. D’you have plans? A date?”
“Well...no...”
“Great,” he tiled his head in gesture toward their current path, the opposite direction of her bakery.
“Can you tell me where it is you want me to go?” But she was already following the gentle touch on her back to keep her moving in his current direction. She should have felt unsafe. This was unnatural. How could she not be scared?
He pointed at the municipal building—it was old and pretty. Pretty typical for a little tourist area. Lights caught the raindrops that fell to the ground that hung from ancient looking black iron sconces. Steps up to the main doors were cobblestone and probably brand new as they were replaced over the years. Back in the day it was probably home to many rousing mini-city debates. It was hard to imagine back then it would ever become the bustling little tourist center it was at present. “Y’ever been in?” He asked.
She shook her head. It was like he was a truth serum wrapped in a hot body. There was nothing to explain her reasoning to answering him. “Not since I was little. My dad took me to a magic show here.”
“Well, s’not quite as magical, but s’a fight tonight.”
“A fight?”
“Boxing.”
“Boxing?” She repeated.
“M’not trying t’be rude, are y’hard of hearing?”
“What? No,” she shook her head, confusion coloring her features. “Why?”
“Y’keep repeating everything I say,” his ever-present half-smile was mocking her.
She scowled at him, shook her head again, and halted them in the middle of the rainy sidewalk. “Please stop walking. I’m so confused,” she put her hands on her temples. Why was she even following him? She didn’t need to be with him right now. She could have walked the other direction just as easily and told him to take a hike.
“Mmm... I’d rather not, I’ve got t’get ready,” he explained inching further along the path with the umbrella in his hand still. “M’on the first card.”
“Let’s try this again,” she stood her ground. Deciding now that if he were a serial killer, it would be too late but at least she could have the satisfaction of trying. “I don’t know your name and contrary to my current actions I'm actually very wary of strangers. But I own the bakery right over there in the main square. I was going to run the closing report. I’ll wait there until your fight is over,” she suggested--where she at least had security cameras set up and would have proof of a stranger murdering her with a baking sheet. “You can come get my insurance info then,” she spun quickly away from him, and started back toward the direction of the bakery; he could keep the umbrella.
“Your bakery?” He asked, following her a few paces back.
“Yes. A Pinch of Sprinkles. It’s right over there,” she gestured to the main bustling little square.
“You own the bakery: A Pinch of Sprinkles?”
“Are you hard of hearing?”
He snorted at her and smirked once more. “Alright,” he sighed holding his hands up in surrender. “M’Harry. M’in a boxing match tonight. M’normally in there by now getting ready. But this really pretty girl dinged m’car,” his smile was so boyish for someone who scared the lights out of her only minutes before. “And y’did kind of promise t’come with me as payment,” he looked at her knowingly.
“I did not promise that,” her tone was defensive. “I said I would pay for the dent to be fixed.”
“I know y’did. S’very nice of you. S’not what I want. This is how I want you t’pay me.”
“By coming to watch your fight?”
He nodded eagerly. But she saw his eyes scanning her. He was still holding her umbrella while she continued to get soaked. Her dad would have a conniption at the sight of a stranger holding her umbrella and not keeping her dry. But it didn’t bother her. If anything, she kind of liked it if only because it gave her a chance to look at how adorable he was holding her flowery umbrella when she knew the embodiment of intimidation was going to punch someone at three-minute intervals.
Harry stepped closer, bringing her back under the umbrella. “Look... If y’really need t’go to your bakery, then no, of course m’not going t’stop you. But if it can wait, then s’how y’can repay me,” he shrugged. They were huddled close together under the umbrella. Her hair was a wet stringy mess. She knew very little about boxing. Muhammad Ali, Mike Tyson, Rocky and The Eye of the Tiger. That was about the extent of her knowledge. Boxing wasn’t one of the major sports her dad imparted his wisdom about to her.
“You want me to go to your fight as payment for your car dent?”
“Are y’going t’jus’ keep saying the same thing as me but as a question all night?” She knew she was repeating herself again. She pursed her lips to refrain from asking another question. “C’mon, Cupcake... m’really starting t’run late here,” he pointed to his wrist with an imaginary watch.
Cupcake.
What was she getting herself into?
She took a deep breath trying to calm the bit of nerves. “I’m not really a go with the flow kind of girl. I have a lot of questions.”
He smiled sweetly. Nodded like he expected such an answer, like he knew her already. “M’sure you do,” he agreed. “But... I really need t’go in. Like right now. Louis is going t’kill me if I don’t appear in front of him four minutes ago. When the fight’s over, I’ll walk y’to A Pinch of Sprinkles. We’ll run y’closing report and I’ll answer every question y’have.”
It took every bit of her self-restraint to keep her mouth from repeating him again. We. “There’s also the whole... I don’t know you at all, thing,” she reminded him stepping out from the umbrella again. “Seems like a bad idea on my part.”
It was almost moot though. Even she heard the way her voice sounded like she was caving as she said it. He stepped closer again. “You’re right. S’good instincts that I admire y’have,” he held his phone out to her, the screen catching a few drops of rain. “S’my niece,” he told her of the baby on the lit screen. She was only a few months old based on the picture. “She’s got me wrapped around m’finger and she’s barely old enough t’even see me and know m’holding her. Least that’s what m’sister Gemma says,” he shrugged. The adoration, the love in his voice made her stomach flip. It was unbelievably adorable this scary man was in love with a little baby. His voice was so sweet, it made her feel at ease. “I grew up with Mum and Gemma,” he looked her squarely in the eye. “I know m’about t’go in there and punch another grown man, but m’not dangerous. Especially not towards a girl who parked in a dark parking lot who owns a bakery with a sprinkles pun," her heart softened. “I know y’have questions, Cupcake. But I really need t’go in there,” he was growing the slightest bit impatient. “Louis is gonna send Niall out looking for me and then m’screwed. I need y’decision either way.”
It was perhaps her dumbest idea ever. Even stupider than when she tried to make peanut butter cookies without peanut butter to make them allergy friendly. “Are you going to win?” She asked.
He chuckled. “Think so. Especially if you’re there as m’good luck charm," he winked.
When she thought about this in the future or when she ended up on a true crime TV episode, it would be this moment that thousands and millions of people would say "how could she be so stupid?"
But she started for the building ahead of him, anyway. He fell into step beside her holding the umbrella over her again. “Probably not a good idea to put stock into me when I just dented your car.”
“S’jus’ a ding, Cupcake,” he smiled. “Something t’remember y’by.”
She couldn’t believe how quick and flirtatious he was. He knew all the right things to say and wasn’t even the least bit nervous it seemed. When he went into the ring or something she would have to Google his name and see if she accidentally made a fool of herself talking to a professional boxer. “You’re something else.”
They entered the building from a back door guarded by a man who gave Harry a nod as he ushered the sweet girl inside. “You’re trying to kill him, aren’t you?” A blonde man with an Irish accent asked, running his hand through his hair right as the guard at the door pulled the door shut from the outside. “I was just about to go see what happened this time,” he started back down the hall, deeper into the building. “He’s losing his mind,” he warned.
Harry shrugged. “Met a girl,” he smiled back at her. “She owns the bakery. She’s gonna be my good luck charm”
“Oh, you’re the reason for my freshman fifteen,” the blond man wiggled his eyebrows at her as he turned to her as well.
“Cupcake, this is Niall, he’ll keep an eye on you,” he assured her.
“Cupcake, hmm?” Niall chuckled. “Louis’ gonna kill you,” he skipped ahead of Harry. “Found him!”
“Harold you better have been held at gunpoint!” The shout was nearly hysterical as they approached the open room.
“He was just talking to Cupcake,” Niall was nearly giggling. Louis, she presumed, wasn’t the least bit amused. His face was hard. His blue eyes cold, his jaw as sharp as his words.
“You’re a fucking idiot,” he snapped. “Get your fucking clothes on,” he ordered.
Harry rolled his eyes and winked in her direction. “Hold this for me?” He asked, handing her his phone. The picture of the little babe illuminated the screen and a message from Mum was previewed on the screen so she couldn’t help but read, “Good luck honey bunny!” With about ten four-leaf clover emojis and just as many hearts. It warmed her heart so much to see the message on this scary man’s phone. She had doubts now that he was going to murder her later. A murderer wouldn’t have a supportive mom like that, right? Or a picture of their niece as their phone background? “See y’in a bit, Cupcake,” he gave her arm a squeeze and leaned her umbrella beside the door leading into the next room.
Niall was sipping a beer from a clear cup. “Y’ready, Cupcake?”
She snorted, sticking his phone into her purse alongside hers and nodded. “Sure. M’gonna have a lot of questions.”
He laughed. “Well, I have a lot of questions for you,” he promised pushing a set of double doors and into a thrumming, crowded arena.
It was definitely not a magic show.
Blinking, Niall put a gentle hand on her back and leaned toward her ear so she could hear better. “How do you know Harry?”
“I don’t,” she shouted back to be heard over the crowd. There were people getting things set up, announcements being made, and the like. There were people cheering and she couldn’t believe how big the boxing ring looked. The only boxing ring she had ever seen was the one in Rocky. Moreover, the only thing she knew about that ring was that the audience in the movie was given a free chicken dinner for showing up to the arena and they dimmed the lights, so it looked like more people were there. “My car door hit his car.”
“You hit Clay?”
“Who’s Clay?”
“His car!”
“He named his car, Clay?”
“Like Cassius Clay?”
Again, she didn’t know much about boxing, but she realized immediately that Harry named his car after the greatest heavyweight boxer ever. Oh, Lord. What did you get yourself into? She thought to herself. “Er… yeah… I guess so.”
“And he didn’t...” Niall drifted off curiously. “Hmm,” it seemed he surmised something in his head but didn’t let her in on the secret. He gestured to a chair that was front and center of the corner of the ring for her to sit. He took the seat beside her and leaned close as she spoke to him again. “How do you know Harry?”
“We’ve been best friends since Uni,” he shrugged. “Been icing his bruises for years.”
She nodded. “I see. Are you recently graduated? You said freshmen fifteen?”
Niall laughed. It was contagious. Made her feel safe still. The whole last ten minutes were surreal. She really followed a stranger to a boxing match. She was sitting with his best friend asking questions about someone she hardly knew. “Just a joke, Cupcake. You are single handedly responsible for my recent weight gain since you moved into town. Well, you and that Irish soda bread you made last March. It tasted like home.”
“Really?” She asked excitedly. “I was so nervous about it!”
Talking about sweet treats and breads and cupcakes was more her speed. “Oh, it was perfect, Cupcake. Rivaled my nan’s.”
Well, maybe Harry wasn’t so scary.
At least his friends were nice. Although... “Louis hates me, doesn’t he?” The thought of someone hating her, even though she didn't even know him made her sad.
Niall rolled his eyes. “No, he’s just so sick of Harry being late. Thinks because he’s undefeated on this circuit he can do whatever he wants.”
“Undefeated?” She was grateful Harry wasn’t there to hear her question repeating the same thing Niall said again.
“Not much of a boxer are you, Cupcake?”
“No,” she shook her head. “Float like a butterfly, sting like a bee.”
He chuckled. “Harry’s very good. You’ll see.” Clearly. What did he need a good luck charm if he was already undefeated. She really needed to research him.
As if he heard his own name, he dropped into the seat across from her. It would be inside the ring between rounds but for now it allowed him to gaze at the pretty girl he met moments before. “Hi Cupcake,” his smile was sugary—and she knew sugar.
“Hi,” she murmured, willing her eyes to stay focused on his face and not his bare torso. A litany of tattoos painted his skin and a pair of vines dipped into the band of the shorts he wore. Everything was black. His shorts, his tattoos, his shoes, and his gloves. She could see tape going up half the length of his forearm keeping the bottom of his gloves in place.
“That’s a record for you getting ready. Must be your good luck charm,” Niall nudged her with his elbow. “Didn’t I tell you those soda breads were delicious?”
Harry kept his eyes on her and nodded. “Y’did.”
“Told you,” Niall assured her.
“Wouldn’t shut up ‘bout them,” Harry was unmoving, his body, his gaze. His phone was in her purse. He was looking at her like she was pretty, and she knew her makeup and hair was ruined by the rain. “M’a bigger fan of those raspberry filled cupcakes of yours,” he told her. “S’like heaven in a cupcake.”
“Harry, I swear to God!” Louis shouted.
Harry smiled ruefully, winked at her again and finally moved, heading back toward the sound of Louis’ voice. “Niall, don’t let her leave, yeah?”
Niall saluted him and she watched him leave again. She cleared her throat, turning in her seat toward the door, she exited to get to her ring-side seat. “Good luck, Harry,” she called, unsure if he would hear her over the building crowd.
Harry turned back right as he got to the door and winked again. “Thanks Cupcake,” he called back loud enough for everyone to hear that he was talking to her. Niall chuckled, shook his head, and put a friendly arm across the back of her chair.
He was kind enough to lean to her ear so that others wouldn’t hear the next thing he said because it made her blush and nearly melt to the floor right in front of Harry’s best friend and the very ring, he would be punching another grown man in just a few minutes. “Hope you like your boyfriends like your frosting, Cupcake. Because that man is already whipped for you.”
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