#I'll add these to their masterlist when a chunk of them are done

[wayfayrr]

hi moss! I'm a newer follower, and first time requester.. I can't help but want to participate in your 300 followers event! (also congrats by the way!)

anyways, I was hoping to order a soft Bailey's (or latte?) with sticky toffee pudding for takeaway, please? thank you!! <3

Its been a while since I've put out one of these huh? I'm still working on them I promise, they're just going to be a little shorter than the ones at the start (between 200/300 words now) and I'll be queuing them out instead mostly because I'd like to have these done so I can open normal requests now - there are going to be a few more legend ones though <3 also for my own sanity they won't have the same banners anymore because the winter theme is honestly not that fitting anymore

“You know I really - hic - really hated you at first. W-when I -heh- when I was learning I was aware.”

“Hmh? Where is this coming from link? And how are you so drunk, I swear you’ve had the same amount as me.”

Maybe I shouldn’t take this for granted, it’s the first time he’s opened up like this as well as my best shot at learning more about what it all was like for him in there. If he’s willing to ramble and a bit of drinking is all it takes to loosen up those words? Well I can just pour him another drink or two, no harm right?

“Relivin-ng everything over and over out - out of order, all of m’ quests. Thought you were tryina drive m’ insane.”

“But then I - I started hearing y’u. You - you were so gen’tle I -”

The second he started swaying it felt almost natural to tug him into my side and let him rest his head on my shoulder like he was an old friend. Not that he isn’t I suppose, from what he’s saying and how many games I’ve played we might as well be. Being so wrapped up in how I felt about all of this going on, I didn’t even consider the impacts on him that he’s been dealing with, after everything that happened with koholint. It’s not surprising he’s struggling when he’s had to go through someone he deeply cared about being entirely fictional. 

“I-I’ felt like I was real hic I- I could hear som’one real.”

“It were like- like I- I had  - It was I.”

Anything coherent is completely gone now, with him bawling into my side. It’s hard to tell if he’s struggling to talk from the tears or how drunk he is now. Not like it would really make a difference. 

[saintobio]

sincerely yours. (10)

↳ gojou satoru/reader

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

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

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

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

series masterlist -> episode eleven

“It’s a little weird.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Ha ha ha. How ridiculous was that? 

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

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

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

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

“Was he like that with you before?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yuuji?” Sera asked, clearly confused. 

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

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

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

— —

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

If only you could be like her. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Oh… “He bought more than one?” 

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

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

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

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

There was no you in that vision anymore. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Giddy up!” 

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

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

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

“Ah!” 

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

“Willow!” 

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

“Nooo! Willow, no!”

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

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

“Willow!” 

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

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

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

— —

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

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

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

“Your wife is seven weeks pregnant.”

…

…

“Y/N?”

“Y/N!”

“Are you out of your mind?!” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Both choices had no happy endings. 

— —

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

How sickeningly sweet. 

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

It was out of love that he let you go. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

This woman was all he needed. 

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

— —

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Y/N.”

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

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

“But—”

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

— —

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

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

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

As for you, well… 

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

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

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

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

A visitor on a Wednesday afternoon? 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Monaco? Why would you be there?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Yet none of it was given. 

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

[maldaptivedreamer]

Save An Outlaw... - Arcane

Sevika groans, grasping her side. Warmth floods onto her hand as blood trails down her arm. Digging her heels into dark fur, she urges the horse faster. 

She huffs, shaking her head as she tries to chase away the darkness fogging the edges of her vision. Her snarl quickly fades, her body unable to resist the exhaustion consuming her.

content: Sevika x fem reader, errors/mistakes, wild west au, outlaw/cowboy sevika, young adult sevika, strained mother/daughter relationship, fighting/violence, guns, blood/gore, violence against animals, description of animal harm/mutilation, name calling, canon character cameo

wc: ~8k

a/n: This fic was inspired by the ao3 fic, I'm a Lady Lover Darlin', by Athena_Winter13. I love Sevika and cowboy Sevika hits different. Also this turned out to be pretty long, so I'll be posting it in 3 or 4 big chunks.

MINORS DNI NSFW 18+

Masterlist Next Part

The setting sun warms your face as you urge your horse faster. The town lights fade behind you as you ride further into the plains.

Slowing your pace, you click your tongue against your teeth in frustration. Dismounting, you pace back and forth, clawing a hand through your hair in agitation.

“I don’t understand, Honey. Mama’s crazy. I mean-” Scoffing humorlessly, you spin towards the light brown horse and throw your arms out by your sides. “I’m doin’ just fine on the ranch. Don’t need no man to keep up the ranch. Pa’s been gone a while and she’s done just fine without him.” 

Your heaving chest gradually slows as you silently stand there, watching Honey peacefully graze on a patch of grass. Groaning, you rub your face. “I know. I know. She’s just worried for me but that don’t mean-”

Clack. Clack. Clack.

Your hair whips wildly against your face as you spin towards the noise. The foliage rustles, branches trembling together. 

Clack. Clack. Clack.

Furrowing your brows, you curse yourself for leaving the gun at the ranch. Scanning your surroundings, you desperately search for a weapon but only find a large stick. You can't help but laugh at your own stupidity before picking up the branch and cautiously approaching the source of the clacking. The sound of horse hooves and whinnying grows louder as you move closer, treading lightly around the dense foliage.

And then you see her.

A woman, around your age, lying on the ground. Blood darkens the material of her clothes and two shiny pistols lie holstered on her hip. Her muscular arms lay limp on her outstretched legs.

Clack. Clack. Clack.

Your eyes snap towards a large horse, its’ dark coat gleaming in the lowering sun. Swallowing nervously, you cautiously throw away your makeshift weapon and raise a placating hand towards the horse. He responds with a loud whinny and waves his head towards the woman. Your mind races with questions and theories as you take tentative steps towards the stranger.

"Yeah, sure. I got it, I got it... Hope your owner doesn't kill me." You mutter under your breath, trying to mask your nerves. "Or is alive." You add even quieter.

Grimacing, you lower to your knees. You eye her pistols, watching her as you slowly take them out of her holsters.

Placing a gentle hand on the woman’s shoulder, you nudge her in an effort to wake her. Suddenly, she jolts awake and you let out a scream, falling backwards in surprise. Snarling, she reaches for her guns.

Heart racing, you press a hand to your chest to calm your rushed breaths. The stranger struggles to keep her eyes open. 

"Yah know, your growlin’ and huffin’ loses a bit of its’ scary when you’re bleedin’ out." You joke, trying to lighten the tense atmosphere. Slowly rising to your feet, you wave her pistols at her. "I took these just in case you tried to kill me."

Wrinkling your nose at her defensive stance, you shrug. "Though I'm sure you could kill me without it." You shove the guns deep into your skirt pocket and scan her form again. As much as you joked about her not looking scary, she definitely is. Pressed into a boulder and growling like a cornered animal. 

With a worried expression, you gently lower yourself to the ground, trying to show the woman that you mean no harm. "Listen." You say softly. “My town’s close. It’s small but we’ve got a doctor that can help you.”

Her silver eyes are frantic with fear and desperation as she scowls at you. “My guns, now.” She demands raspily.

Pursing your lips to the side, you frown at her. “With all due respect ma’am, I’d feel more secure if you didn’t have your guns.”

Her face is unwavering and she stares in silence.

Your lips part as you grow incredulous, watching as her red cloak wettens further with blood. Groaning, you cave. You make your annoyance clear as you sigh, pressing the cylinder release on each revolver. Eyeing her sarcastically, you tip the guns. The bullets clang against one another as they fall to the ground. 

Tossing them into her lap, you smile sharply. “Happy now?”

She quickly holsters them on her thighs. Grunting, the sound layered in pain, she presses a bloody hand against the rough surface of the boulder and slowly pushes herself to her feet. You step forward instinctively to help her, but she gives you a pointed glare.

Huffing in frustration, you stand with your arms crossed, watching as she struggles to stay upright against the rock wall. You roll your eyes at her stubbornness. “Plan on gettin’ on that horse all by yourself too, cowboy?” You say, unimpressed.

Sweat beads down her forehead and she can't hide her sharp intake of breath as she sways. Her face takes on a grayish hue and you rush to her side, ignoring her protests. “Easy, cowboy. Let’s getcha all patched up and you can be on your merry way, hmm?”

As you try to lead her towards her horse, her legs tangle with yours and you stumble, struggling to support her weight.

“C’mon.” You pant, urging her horse closer. “You wanted me to help and I’m helpin’. You gotta come a little closer.” You grunt out.

It doesn’t. You curse this stubborn, beautiful woman and her equally infuriating horse.

Tears fill your eyes in anticipation of getting her on the horse. You bite your tongue to keep from crying out, grunting with effort as you finally reach the stallion. You press your damp forehead into its fur, taking a moment to catch your breath. 

Before you can fully gather yourself, the stranger slips out of your grasp and mounts her horse. Your eyes grow wide as she heaves herself onto the stallion’s back.

Gasping, you throw your arms around her muscular thigh as she falls limp. Pressing your head into her thigh, you grit your teeth. “God-fucking-dammit.”

You take a few deep breaths, preparing yourself before jumping onto the horse behind her and using your body to steady her with each slow movement.

You wrap your arms around her tightly and grab onto the reins. A quick click of your tongue summons your horse to your side. And with that, you start your slow journey back to town.

Sevika slowly opens her eyes to the sight of a wooden ceiling above her. The bed beneath her feels soft and comfortable, a luxury she hasn't experienced in a long time. As she moves to sit up, her hand automatically falls to her stomach and she finds clean bandages wrapped around the wound. With a groan, she heaves her legs over the side of the bed and stands, wincing at the nauseating pain that shoots through her body.

Stumbling towards the door, she hears muffled voices coming from outside.

...

You resist the urge to groan. “Mama, I-”

Your mother’s voice is short as her face scrunches in anger. “You don’t know her. How many times I gotta tell you, she could’a hurt you. And you shouldn’t have been out so far past sundown.”

Your voice grows slightly high pitched as you try to defend yourself. “Mama, that’s not-”

“You think just anybody gets shot like that. You-”

You sigh, rolling your eyes. Absentmindedly, your eyes wander to a corner behind your mother. A small spider has inhabited the space, a fly flails in its intricate web and you watch in fascination.

“Are you listening to me?” Your mother’s sharp voice pierces your ears.

Wincing, you peek one eye at her and shrug. “Would it help if I said yes?”

She inhales a breath to continue, but the door is pushed open, interrupting her lecture. You sigh in relief as your mother turns to the stranger. Her lips part in a strained smile. Your mother’s voice is steely as she introduces you both to the stranger. “Good to see you awake, been nappin’ for quite a while. Gave everyone in town quite the scare.”

The woman glances at you, before nodding to your mother. She gruffly speaks, her throat scratchy and dry. “How long have I been ‘nappin’?”

Grimacing, you take a hesitant step forward and answer. “Bout four days.”

Her eyes rake over your frame, almost dismissively. Your mother glances between you skeptically, her voice protective as she steps into the space between you. “What’s your name, stranger?”

Clearing her throat, the woman ignores your mother's question and shifts her muscular frame against the wooden door frame. Her voice is demanding. “Where’s my stuff?”

You wince at her tone and quickly intervene. “Your horse’s bein’ well taken care of. Your stuff’s just in the room behind you.” Your eyes flicker to your mom, before you give the stranger a purposeful nod into the room. “I can help get you settled, right mama?” You turn back to your mother and flash her an innocent smile. 

Your mother’s eyes pinch in anger before she covers it up with a wide grin, her knuckles white as she grips her skirt tightly. “I’ll get started on dinner then. You let me know if you need anything.” She looks at you with a mix of frustration and concern before hesitantly going downstairs.

You both watch her leave, the air thick with tension.

Your smile fades as soon as she's out of sight. Turning to face the stranger, you lift a brow at her unmoving form. “You gonna go in or you wanna ask your questions out here?” You ask dryly, your voice laced with annoyance.

You both silently sit on opposing sides of the room. Grimacing, your eyes dance around the room while hers remain steady on you. You fidget under her intense gaze, nervously scratching at your wrist. Letting out a resigned sigh, you finally break the tense stillness. “I told you, I had to hide ‘em so that they’d help you. I’m sorry.”

Silver eyes darken into a murky gray and she purses her lips angrily. “Well, un-hide them and bring them to me.” 

Huffing a breath, you roll your shoulders and meet her gaze. “And where exactly do you plan on hidin’ them? You look plenty scary and everyone in town is already keepin’ a close eye on you. If they see you carryin’ then there’s no tellin’ what they’ll do.”

The stranger's eyes narrow, the intensity of her glare sending a chill down your spine. “If you think I can’t kill a few deputies with my hands, you're wrong.”

Sputtering, you jump out of your seat and frantically wave your hands in front of you. “Woah, woah, woah. Hold your horses, cowboy. Ain’t no lawmen here. I told you, my town’s small. If you’re runnin’ from something’ then this was the best place to end up.”

The stranger remains expressionless, causing another uncomfortable silence to settle over the room. Your nerves begin to tingle and your tongue feels like lead in your mouth. Cringing, your voice comes out awkward and rushed. “So- uhh- you hungry? And what’s your name? If you don’t wanna tell anyone your name for whatever reason then just give me a fake name. Jus’ somethin’ to call you by would be nice instead of ‘stranger’, yah know?”

Sighing, Sevika feels a gnawing hunger in her stomach. Huffing another annoyed breath, she stands and answers you. “Sevika.”

You quickly move ahead of her and send her an unsure smile. “S’good to meet yah Sevika. If that’s your real name. Oh, and just so you know, you kind of smell like shit right now. But don't worry, I'll show you where the shower is later." The words spill out of your mouth before you can stop them. Silently sighing in embarrassment, you cringe, your shoulders curling in on themselves.

With a deep breath, you rise from your crouched position. Adjusting your hat, you click your tongue and swing your leg over Honey. With a steady trot, you follow the fence line, scanning for any signs of further damage or breaches. Absentmindedly, your mind wanders to the stranger in your home. Sevika.

The sun beats down relentlessly as you guide Honey along the fence line. Your thoughts drift back to Sevika, wondering what kind of trouble she might be in. A woman with a gunshot wound doesn't exactly scream 'law-abiding citizen.' But there's something about her that intrigues you, despite her gruff demeanor.

A flicker in your peripheral vision snaps you back to attention. You pull Honey to a stop, squinting against the glare. Seeing a small gap in the fence where the barbed wire has frayed, you approach the damaged section. With a grunt, you dismount.

As you examine the break, the sound of approaching hoofbeats makes you turn. Your breath catches in your throat as you see Sevika riding towards you, her red cloak billowing behind her. She still looks grey and sickly.

Frowning, you shield your eyes from the sun and speak up to her. “The hell are you doin’?”

Sevika scowls at you. “I’m leavin’.”

Nodding, you send her a sarcastic smile. “And exactly, how far do you think you’ll get before you bleed out?” Shrugging, you chuckle mockingly. “And this time I won’t be there to rescue you, princess.”

Sevika's scowl deepens at your words. She shifts uncomfortably in the saddle, her face drawn in pain. "I can take care of myself." She growls, but her voice lacks any real heat as she grasps her side.

You raise an eyebrow, eyeing her skeptically. "Sure you can. That's why I found you half-dead in the middle of nowhere." You take a step closer to her horse, your voice softening. "Look, I get it. You're not the type to sit still and let others help you. But you're in no shape to be ridin’ off alone."

Sevika's jaw clenches as she glares down at you, clearly torn between her desire to leave and the reality of her condition. You can see the internal struggle playing out on her face.

With a sigh, you place your hands on your hips. "You've got a safe place to rest up and heal. Why the rush to leave?"

Her silver eyes narrow suspiciously. "Why do you care? You don't know me."

"Maybe my mama’s teachin’s of that ‘take care of thy neighbor’ bullshit finally stuck." You retort with a smirk. "Or maybe I don’t want the supplies and time I spent on the mysterious stranger I rescued to go to waste." You lie, attempting to appease her.

Sevika remains silent, her gaze intense as she studies you. You can almost see the gears turning in her head as she weighs her options.

Finally, she lets out a resigned sigh and slowly slides off her horse. “I’m not takin’ your pity. I’ll work for everything. And I want my shit back.” She grumbles.

Eyeing her from the corner of your eye, you grab your tools and give her an easy task. In her pain induced haze, she doesn’t notice.

You both work in silence for hours, the repairs taking longer with her help.

Wiping the sweat from your brow, you glance over at Sevika. She's leaning heavily against a nearby post, her face ashen and her breathing labored.

"Alright, the fence’s done." You announce, trying to keep the concern out of your voice. "Let's head back and get somethin’ to eat."

Sevika opens her mouth to protest, but a sudden wave of pain causes her to grimace and clutch at her side. You move quickly to support her and she attempts to push you away.

"Don't be stubborn." You mutter as you help her onto her horse. "You've done more than enough to earn your keep today. If you don’t rest now, you’ll just have to stay longer." With an exhausted nod, Sevika trots to the house.

You quickly follow behind, hovering close to her.

Reaching the bunkhouse, you leave the horses at the porch. Finding the building empty, you nod towards the bathroom. “Why don’t you go clean up, replace your bandages, and I’ll get started on the food?”

Sevika hesitates, her pride clearly battling with her exhaustion and pain. Finally, she gives a curt nod, gathering some clothes and limping towards the bathroom, one hand still pressed against her wound.

You busy yourself in the small kitchen, throwing together a hearty stew. As you're stirring the pot, you hear the bathroom door open. Sevika emerges, her hair damp and her face looking slightly healthier.

"Sit." You say, nodding towards the table. "Food's almost ready."

Sevika obeys without protest, sinking into a chair with a barely concealed wince. You ladle out two bowls of stew and set one in front of her, along with a chunk of bread.

You both eat in silence. Each spoonful of food is a slow, deliberate movement as you watch her closely, your eyes fixed on her stomach.

Your spoon scrapes against the bottom of the bowl as you study her. "How's your stomach?" You finally ask, your question laced with worry and concern.

Sevika pauses mid-bite, her silver eyes flicking up to meet yours. For a moment, she says nothing, seeming to weigh her words carefully.

"It's fine." She finally grunts, returning her attention to her bowl.

You can't help but scoff at her stubborn response. "Yeah, alright."

Sevika's eyes narrow at you, but you ignore it. "Look, I know you're not one for showin' weakness or askin' for help. But if that wound gets infected, you could die. So how about we cut the bullshit and you tell me how it's really feelin'?" You say bluntly.

For a long moment, Sevika just stares at you, her face unreadable. Then, almost imperceptibly, her shoulders slump.

"It… hurts." She admits reluctantly. “And I…”

She trails off and you wave your hand for her to continue. Sighing, her spoon plops into the bowl as she drops it. “I couldn’t change the bandages.”

You nod, pursing your lips. "Alright, let's take a look then."

Sevika hesitates, her pride clearly warring with her need for help. Finally, she gives a curt nod and slowly stands, grimacing as the movement pulls at her wound.

You lead her to the bathroom, gesturing for her to sit on the edge of the tub.

"Shirt off." You instruct, rummaging through a cabinet for fresh bandages and antiseptic.

Sevika complies slowly, her movements stiff and pained. Kneeling in front of her, your eyes meet hers briefly before you focus on her wound.

"This might hurt a bit." You warn softly as you begin to peel away the old bandages. Sevika remains stoic, but you can see the tension in her jaw as she grits her teeth against the pain.

The wound is angry and red, but thankfully shows no signs of infection. You clean it gently, feeling Sevika's muscles tense under your touch.

Attempting to distract her, you start talking. “It looks good so far, no inflammation or anythin’. Should take about 2 or 3 months to fully heal.”

As you work on Sevika's wound, you can feel her intense gaze on you. You try to keep your hands steady as you apply the fresh bandages, hyper-aware of her proximity and the warmth radiating from her skin.

"There." You say softly, smoothing down the last edge of the bandage. "All done."

You look up, meeting Sevika's silver eyes. For a moment, neither of you move. Then Sevika clears her throat, breaking the spell.

"Thanks." She mutters gruffly, reaching for her shirt.

You stand quickly, averting your eyes as she buttons up her shirt. "No problem. Just… let me know if you need help again, alright?"

Sevika nods curtly, her walls firmly back in place.

Nodding back, you send her a tense smile and leave.

Sevika is still cautiously detached, but you can see the tension, ever so slowly, dissipating with each day as she regains her strength.

Running your tongue over your dry lips, you rub your face in frustration and slowly traipse towards the horse stables. As you approach, the sound of raised voices catches your attention and your feet quicken into a run.

“Watch your tongue, boy.”

“Fuck. You. If you think that bitch dotin’ on you means anything, then-”

You burst into the stables, heart pounding. Sevika stands tall over John’s smaller figure, her fists clenched at her side. John's face is red with anger, a vein throbbing in his forehead.

"Hey." You hiss, rushing between them. "What the hell is goin' on?"

John sneers, pointing an accusing finger at Sevika. "This outsider thinks she can just waltz in here. She don't belong here!"

Sevika's eyes flash dangerously. "I don't want nothin' from you or this town. I'll be leaving as soon as I can."

You place a hand on Sevika's arm, feeling the tension in her muscles. "John. Back off."

John spits on the ground. "What?” He asks incredulously, before his tone shifts condescendingly. “Why? You too busy lickin’-”

With a fierce growl, you curl your hand into a tight fist and put all your weight behind it. The force of your punch meets the bridge of his nose with a loud crunch, causing his face to whip violently to the side. Undeterred, he quickly retaliates with a hit to your mouth.

Grunting through the pain, you launch yourself at him in a tackle. Straddling him, your knees pin his arms to the ground and you unleash a series of punches on his face. Each impact sends shockwaves of pain through both of you, but adrenaline fuels you.

Sevika stands to the side, silently watching you.

Moving back, you spit on the ground next to him. "You crazy fucking bitch!" John wails, his voice muffled by his hands.

You stand over him, your fist still clenched and shaking with anger. "Leave and don’t fuckin’ come back." You snarl.

John stumbles onto his feet, shooting both you and Sevika a venomous glare before stumbling out of the stable. As the sound of his footsteps fades, you turn to Sevika, your anger slowly dissipating.

"You alright?" You ask, eyeing her with concern.

Sevika’s face is an unreadable mask. "Didn't need your help.”

Scoffing out a laugh, you flex your aching hands. “Who said I was defendin’ you? He essentially called me a cock ridin’ bitch and it’s not the first time he’s mouthed off. Been dyin’ to get rid of that asshole.”

Sevika turns her head away from you, her silver eyes sparkling with amusement as she exhales. You feel the tension in your body release and a warmth spread through your chest at the sight of her smile, albeit small.

Her gaze roams over your figure as she licks her lips and tilts her head, studying you intently. A mischievous glint flashes in her silver eyes as she speaks. “Who woulda thought somethin’ so little and gentle like you, coulda put a grown man on his ass?”

Huffing out a tired laugh, you swipe a bead of blood from your lip. “Oh, I’m plenty gentle. But I’m rough when I need tah get the job done, baby.” A playful smile tugs at your lips as you glance at Sevika before dusting yourself off. “And I wouldn’t exactly call John a grown man.”

Sevika hides a smirk and nods towards the house, her voice teasing. “Guess it’s my turn to play nurse, huh?”

You nod, wincing as the adrenaline fades. “Fuck, I forgot how much that fucking hurts." Sevika's smirk widens as you shake out your hands, following you back to the house.

As you both make your way back to the house, you can't help but notice the way Sevika's eyes linger on you. There's a newfound respect in her gaze, mixed with something else you can't quite place.

Inside, Sevika starts rummaging through drawers for the first aid kit.

“Underneath the sink.” You perch on the edge of the table, watching her move and bend despite her own injury.

"Got it." She says gruffly, turning back to you with supplies in hand. She steps close, almost caging you against the table. Her body heat radiates against you as she examines your face. Her calloused fingers gently probe your swollen lip and you wince.

"Sorry." She mutters, her voice uncharacteristically soft. She begins cleaning the cut, her touch surprisingly gentle and you can’t help but stare at her as she works.

"You didn't have to do that." She murmurs, moving towards your bloodied knuckles.

You wince slightly at the sting. "Like I said, it wasn't just about you. John's had it comin' for a long time."

Grey eyes meet yours briefly before she silently nods. Swallowing, you ignore the flutter just below your navel and shakily speak. “Thank you.”

She pauses, her hand hovering in the air before slowly lowering it. Her lips part as she lifts her gaze, her breath catching slightly. You hold your own breath, watching as her eyes flicker to your lips before returning to meet yours.

A heavy warmth settles over your body as you feel the soft brush of her breath against your dry lips and you drop your eyes to her plush lips.

Her voice is low and husky as she responds. “Welcome.” Lowering her head towards yours, she starts closing the distance between your lips with agonizing slowness.

“What the hell happened!?!” The loud slam of the front door echoes through the house as your mother storms inside, her footsteps heavy and angry. You both instinctively move away from each other. Her touch still lingers on your skin and you feel your shoulders drop in disappointment.

Trying to compose yourself, you raise a hand to your mouth. You attempt to clear your throat, but only manage a small cough. "In here mama." Your voice breaks.

Your mother purses her lips when she sees you, before slowly approaching you. She looks tired, with dark circles under her eyes and lines of worry etched into her forehead. You avoid looking at either one of them as she grasps your chin and tilts your face towards hers. Sucking her teeth, she releases your chin and picks up your hand, roughly brushing her thumb over your bruised knuckles.

A sharp pain shoots through your hand and you instinctively pull it back. “Oww. What the hell mama?” You cry out in surprise.

Stepping back, your mother rubs her forehead in frustration. “What happened?” She asks, her voice laced with concern and disappointment.

Frowning at her, you speak defensively. “John was yellin all kinds a’ stuff and mouthin’ off. Was callin’ me names and stuff.”

Inhaling an angry breath, she closes her eyes. “You got into a fight with John cause he was callin’ you names?”

Smiling sarcastically, you shake your head. “Okay, well one, it wasn’t much of a fight. And two.” You glance at Sevika. “He called me a cum guzzlin whore. And a dick ridin’ cunt before he hit me. Was I not supposed to defend myself?” You ask, tone incredulous despite your embelishments.

Your mother's eyes widen in shock. She opens her mouth to speak but seems at a loss.

"This wasn’t the first time." Your mother finally manages, her voice strained at the statement. Sevika shifts closer to you, her eyes darting between you and your mother. "You should have come to me." She grits out.

You scoff, rolling your eyes. "And what would you have done, mama?"

Your mother's lips press into a thin line. "I would have believed you. I do believe you. I would have talked to him."

"I talked to him plenty." You retort, your voice rising. "Do you think that I can’t handle things myself?"

"That's not what I'm saying." Your mother insists firmly. “But you need to know what battles to fight and which to walk away from, especially if you’re gonna take over my ranch.”

You feel your anger rising, your face flushing with heat as your hands clench on the counter. “That’s all I’ve ever been prepared for. If I’m not ready, who’s fault do you think that is?”

Your mother's eyes narrow. “I should pop you in your goddamn mouth, girl. And that’s one fight you won’t ever be able to win.” Sevika tenses and your mother’s gaze flicks briefly to her before returning to you with heavy intensity.

Clenching your jaw, you send Sevika a look before taking a deep breath, visibly trying to calm yourself. “I’ve got everything from here, cowboy. Why don’t you head back to the bunkhouse and rest?”

Sevika ignores your mother’s annoyed glare, searching your face. “You sure?”

You feel a hint of comforting warmth break through the haze of anger and you nod with a small smile. “I’m sure, cowboy.” 

Nibbling on your lip, you narrow your eyes at her after a moment of contemplation. Keeping your eyes on your mother, you move to Sevika and lower your voice. "Rafter. Above Honey’s stall.”

Recognition flashes over her face and you send her a nod, backing away. “I’ll see you in the mornin’.”

Sevika sends your mother a dark look before leaving you both alone to sit in the stifling silence.

Feeling the anger return in full force, you can’t help the bitter comment that whips off your tongue. “Still think John’s good for me mama? I told you, I didn’t like him.”

Narrowing her eyes, she purses her lips in anger. “No. You ran away, like a child.” She takes a step closer. “You’re a grown woman, act like it.” She hisses.

“I ran away, because if I hadn’t, I would have told you that I didn’t want a life like yours. Pathetically, waiting on hand and foot for a man I don't love, much less like.” You send her a sharp smile. “I was walking away.” You match her tone, throwing her words back at her as you turn away.

With a loud groan, you forcefully throw your blanket off of you. Your tired eyes burn and water as you struggle to fully open them. Weary and disoriented, you slowly pull yourself up and begin to clumsily get ready in the dimly lit room.

The lingering anger from your argument rises as you leave your room. You let out a loud sigh as you take slow, heavy, steps down the creaky stairs. Passively aggressively, you hope you’ve made enough noise to wake her up.

As you reach the bottom of the stairs, you pause, listening for any signs of movement from your mother's room. Nothing.

With a mixture of relief and disappointment, you head towards the kitchen. You move mechanically, chugging a glass of water and snatching an apple from the countertop.

With a crisp crunch, you take a bite of your apple and step out onto the wooden porch. The cool morning air greets your skin, causing you to shiver slightly. Moths flutter around the porch light, their delicate wings beating against the warm glow. In the distance, crickets chirp in harmony.

Then. They don’t. The sounds of nature are replaced by an eerie silence that settles over the ranch.

Wiping your mouth with the back of your hand, you mutter under your breath. “What the fuck?” 

As you move closer, squinting your eyes in the darkness, you see it. A gap in the fence. Panic rises within you as growls and the sound of screeching animals fill the air.

The apple falls to the ground with a dull thump as you sprint back into the house. You take each step two at a time as you rush up to your mother's room. You burst through the door and with a flick of your wrist, you flip on the light. Flinging open the door to her closet, you push her clothes aside.

She jumps up with a gasp and screams. ”What the hell are you doin’!?!”

Ignoring her question, you grab the shotgun from its place and quickly load it with salt rounds.

"There's a hole in the fence." You explain urgently. “A pack got in. The dogs are holdin’ em off, but somethin’s wrong.”

Firmly gripping the gun, you rush out to the bunkhouse. Kicking open the door, you flip on the lights and shout. “Up, now! There’s a pack attackin’ the cattle.” They jump up and you don’t stay to watch them get ready.

Sprinting back out into the darkness, you deftly leap over the splintered remains of the fence, your gun raised.

The ranch dogs bark and snap at the snarling wolves surrounding them, but they are heavily outnumbered. The wolves’ ears are pressed flat against their heads, their hackles raised in anger. They refuse to back down, their eyes wild with hunger. Some are already stained with blood and bits of flesh hang from their gnarled mouths.

You take aim at the closest wolf and pull the trigger, unleashing a spray of salt rocks that hit its body with a loud crack. It flails in pain with a whimper, retreating slightly.

Heavy footfalls rush up behind you, but your eyes remain on the snarling animals. Taking aim again, you shoot, hitting another wolf. "What do you need me to do?" Sevika's voice echoes in your ear.

"You find those guns?" You grunt without taking your eyes off the advancing wolves.

“Yeah.” She responds gruffly.

Sighing with relief, you roll your shoulder. “Good. If they get too close, shoot.”

Closing in, you take careful aim and fire off shots at any that come within range. Sevika shoots a lunging wolf as the other ranch hands finally join you.

Gunfire and the sound of snarling wolves fills the air as you and the ranch hands fight to drive back the pack. Your ears ring from the constant barrage of shots, but you remain steady.

Sevika moves with surprising agility beside you, her own occasional shots ringing out. You catch glimpses of her in your peripheral vision - her face set in grim determination, silver eyes flashing in the darkness.

….

The chaos of the night fades as the sun begins to peek over the horizon. You stand amidst the aftermath, surveying the damage with a heavy heart. Several cattle lie motionless on the blood-stained grass, their bodies torn and mangled. The surviving herd huddles together, still trembling from the attack.

Your ranch hands move about, tending to the injured animals, disposing of the dead ones, and herding the frightened ones. The air is thick with the metallic scent of blood and the acrid smell of gunpowder.

Sevika approaches you, her face grim and spattered with dirt and blood. "How bad is it?" She asks, her voice low and gravelly.

You run a hand through your hair, your exhaustion and stress evident in every movement. "Could've been worse." You mutter. "Lost about four, maybe more. Won't know the full extent 'til we search the ranch and do a proper count".

Rubbing the crease between your brows, you sigh. “Fuck me, it’s too early for this shit.”

Striding over to one of the corpses, you bend down and carefully examine the dead cow. Its once plump and healthy body now lies lifeless on the ground, chunks missing and entrails spilling into the grass below.

“What’re you lookin’ for?” Sevika wrinkles her nose in disgust, covering it slightly with her hand.

Narrowing your eyes, you furrow your brow in concern. "Somethin' don't feel right." You mutter, clicking your tongue as you tilt your head. You inspect the blood that covers the cow's body, noticing how it has congealed into a thick, dark brown crust around the edges. “Does this look fresh to you?”

She shrugs indifferently. “I don’t know.”

Standing up straight, you use your boot to lift the cow's head, revealing a clean line on its neck. Closing your eyes briefly, you let out a seething sigh. “Shit.” You curse.

Running a hand over your weary face, you wince as your fingers brush against the cut on your lip. It stings and you can taste the metallic tang of blood as you stalk towards the broken fence.

Examining the damage with a deep frown, you turn to one of the ranch hands standing nearby. “Lay it on me, Arlo. What’d you find?” You say with a tense exhale.

“Well.” He begins, lifting his hat to scratch at his head. Flicking his nose, he points at the fence post with a calloused finger. “I don’t know of any axe-wieldin’ wolves, but it looks like the posts were hacked to shit and the railing planks were tossed.”

Raising your hand, you lightly trace the splintered wood of the fence post.

Wiping sweat from his forehead, he continues. “The gate’s bein’ worked on now. But whoever did this was pretty pissed.”

Nodding in agreement, you drop your hand and pat him on the shoulder with gratitude.

Stepping away from the fence, you shield your eyes from the harsh rays of the sun, peering up at the house. Your mother sits on the porch, her expression unreadable as she rocks back and forth in her chair. You release a tense breath and roll your shoulders. Deciding to retreat to the stables, you drop your hand and turn towards Sevika, silently gesturing for her to follow.

You both settle onto a bench and you prop up the shotgun against the wall beside you. Rubbing your hands on your thighs, you attempt to still them as they tremble with residual adrenaline.

"Nice thing to wake up to, ain’t it?" Sevika's gravelly voice breaks the silence.

You grunt in response, acknowledging her statement with a slight nod.

Sevika shifts, her thigh brushing yours as she leans back into the wall. “How you doin’?” Her silver eyes flick up to meet yours.

“I’m fine.” You reply curtly.

Immediately regretting your tone, you cringe inwardly. But Sevika simply chuckles lowly, a deep rumble that eases the tightness in your chest. “Yeah, alright. How’re your face and hands?”

“Care to take a closer look for yourself, cowboy?” The retort slips easily, too easily, from your lips and you immediately regret it. Your eyes dart around around nervously and you straighten, clearing your throat. “This is a fuckin’ mess. Wonder what happened.” Your tone is laced with sarcasm.

Sevika studies you for a moment as you avoid making eye contact. Eventually, she nods and clears her throat before leaning onto her knees, her thigh rubbing against yours. “John.” She huffs out.

You ignore the heat of her thigh and rest your head against the wall with a groan. “Can’t wait to have that conversation. Mama’s gonna be real great to talk to after yesterday.” Your words are dripping with cynism and frustration.

You close your eyes, letting out a long exhale. Sevika remains silent beside you, her presence oddly comforting.

After a few moments, you open your eyes and turn to face her. "He's always been a sore loser, but this is a new low. He couldn’t have made it more obvious. I mean, the timin's too convenient. Right after our fight, and the cattle… " You trail off, shaking your head.

Sevika's jaw clenches, her grey eyes tracing the angry lines etched on your face. The muscles in her jaw tense and flex as she speaks. "Why was he around for so long?"

You scowl, feeling a surge of fury rising in your chest. “You can thank my mama for that.” Your voice comes out low and harsh, your words dripping with bitterness. Rubbing your temples, you stand up from your seat.

"Well, I’m off to see the wizard." You try to inject some humor into your statement, but it falls flat in the tense atmosphere. "Wish me luck, cowboy." You lift the shotgun into your hands.

Sevika's eyes narrow dangerously, her gaze following you as you make your way towards the door. "If you need me." She says with a hint of worry. "I’ll be close by."

Sending her a grateful smile, you nod silently in farewell before making your exit.

Each step towards the house feels like trudging through quicksand, each one sapping more and more of your energy.

Your mother continues staring, expressionless, at the damage to the ranch as you step onto the porch. The old chair beneath her squeaks with each rocking movement.

Sitting down on the old wicker chair, it lets out a tired creak, matching your own exhausted sigh. You lay the gun across your lap, nervously picking at the skin around your fingers as your eyes dart back and forth between each worker on the ranch, their faces reflecting the same exhaustion that you feel.

"We still need to search the ranch but we know we lost four." You begin. "Three are injured, one went into labor early. But the rest are fine, just scared shitless." You pause, rubbing your burning eyes. “Gate and fence should be finished in the next few hours. George’s circlin’ the perimeter, lookin’ for any other damage and strays, and I’ll go back around later.”

Squeak… Squeak… Squeak…

You lean forward, resting your elbows on your knees and letting out another heavy sigh.

Rubbing your chin, you lick your lips and draw in a deep breath. “We both know who did this.” You squint into the distance with a frown.

Slowly turning to you, she finally responds, lifting a mocking eyebrow. “And what are you gonna do about that exactly?”

Your nose flares in anger and you clench your hands in restraint. “I’m not gonna sit here and do nothing. I have to do something. And I’m gonna start with finding him.” You hiss with a tense jaw.

With determination in your shoulders, you stand and walk towards the stables. The ground crunches under your boots as you make your way down the path. “Look at what happened the last time you did something.” She calls out behind you.

Your mother's words hit you, stopping you in your tracks. You whirl around, eyes blazing with anger and hurt. 

"What happened last time?” You say, your voice high with disbelief. “You mean when I defended myself against that asshole? When I stood up for myself like you never did?"

She rises from her chair, her own eyes flashing. "I'm talkin' about you pickin' fights you can't win. Look what it's cost us already!"

"Cost us?" You spit back. "This ain't on me, mama. This is on John, and on you for bringin' him 'round here in the first place!"

Your mother's face hardens. "Watch your tone, girl. I'm still your mama."

"Then act like it!" You shout, your voice cracking with emotion. You roughly tap your chest. "For once, just fucking once, take my side!"

You don't wait for her response, spinning on your heel. Spotting George’s approaching group, you redirect towards him.

As he begins to dismount, you raise a hand. “Hold on. Tell me what you found first.”

Leaning forward on his saddle, he readjusts himself before answering. “Someone clipped the barbed wire in two spots. We’ve already patched ‘em up. Found three more dead cows."

The relentless sun beats down on your back, causing a bead of sweat to trickle down your spine. You nod, squinting up at George. “I need you and whoever else you pick to pay a visit to Mama John. If her son’s there, bring him here. If he’s not, question her.”

You turn towards the stables and Nora calls out to you. “Think it was John, boss?”

You scoff, not pausing in your strides. “I don’t think. I know.“

As you approach, you see Sevika leaning against the stable door, arms crossed over her chest. Her silver eyes meet yours, a question in their depths.

"I'm goin' after him." You say before she can ask. "You comin'?"

A ghost of a smile flits across Sevika's face and she pushes off of the door. "Lead the way angel."

You give a grateful nod, feeling a wave of relief wash over you. "Thanks for havin' my back out there." You squeeze her arm as you brush past her.

As you saddle up Honey, you sneak a glance at Sevika and see her shrug nonchalantly, her face giving away little. "Didn't do much." She says in a cool tone.

"You did plenty. Quick on the draw, even with that boo-boo of yours." You insist softly, trying to convey your sincerity. "I'm glad you were there.”

Pausing on the buckles of the saddle, you lock eyes with her. “That you’re here." You say with emphasis.

That emotion you can't place flickers over Sevika's face again. She clears her throat and jumps onto her stallions back. "So, where’re we headin’?"

As you lick your dry lips, your gaze drifts down before returning to Sevika. You mount your horse with a grunt. “Doesn’t have much family, but his mama’s got a house on the edge of town. I sent a pair of ‘em that way.” You nod towards one of the dusty roads before heading in the opposite direction. “We’ll split off. Head to the general store.” 

Raising an eyebrow, she follows closely behind you. The streets are lined with wooden buildings, some showing signs of wear and tear while others gleam with fresh paint. As you pass by, heads turn to watch your arrival, their nosy eyes hungrily biting into your skin. But you pay them no mind, focusing instead on the path to the general store.

Sevika meets every invasive gaze with a glare, and tilts her head at you in curiosity. “The owner a gossip?”

Puffing out an amused breath, you shake your head. “Nah, but I’ll be sure to call him that to piss him off sometime.”

Finally, you reach the center of town. The wooden structure looms ahead, its creaky sign swinging gently in the breeze.

You can hear the whispers from curious onlookers as you guide Honey to a stop in front of the building. Dismounting, you tie Honey’s reigns to the railing and wait for Sevika.

As she slides off her horse, you lean in close and lower your voice. "Don’t mind him if he starts teasin’. He’s harmeless."

Sevika nods, her eyes scanning the street warily. "And if he isn’t?"

You shrug, pushing open the creaky wooden door. "He is."

As you both enter the store, a bell chimes softly overhead. The air inside is cool and musty, a welcome relief from the scorching heat outside. Shelves lined with various goods stretch from floor to ceiling, creating narrow aisles throughout the space.

A heavyset man with prominent mutton chops looks up expectantly from behind the counter, his eyes lingering on Sevika. "Was wondering when you’d show up." He drawls, setting aside the ledger he was writing in.

You approach the counter, your boots creaking against the wooden floorboards. "You seen John?"

His bushy eyebrows furrow downward in sympathy. "Hate to tell you this, kid." He pauses, glancing over your shoulder at Sevika. “But he’s gone. ”

Your heart drops and you shake your head in disbelief. “What d’you mean he’s gone?”

Rubbing the bridge of his nose wearily with a meaty hand, he sighs deeply. “I mean, he's gone. He left.” Raising his head, he nods towards the back of the shop. “The boy spotted ‘im high-tailin’ it out of town on horseback at sunrise.”

Your heart sinks as you realize how you just barely missed him. Sevika’s monotoned voice helps ground you slightly. “Any guess on how far he could be? Where he’d go?”

He shakes his head, with an apologetic smile. “I don’t. But I’ll let you know if I hear anything.”

“Thank you Benzo. I appreciate it, like always.” You reply dejectedly.

He gives a slight nod in return. “Course, kid. M’ sorry I couldn’t have been more help.”

You knock a bruised knuckle against the counter in frustration before shaking your head. “You were plenty help. It’s just not anythin’ I wanted to hear.”

Sending him a terse, but grateful smile, you both leave.

Next Part

[floralcyanidee]

ʏᴏᴜʀ ʟɪᴘs, ᴍʏ ʟɪᴘs, ᴀᴘᴏᴄᴀʟʏᴘsᴇ - ᴄɪʟʟɪᴀɴ ᴍᴜʀᴘʜʏ

Young!Cillian Murphy x AFAB!Reader (NSFW)

A night over at your best friend, Cillian's, leads to something more than friendship but something less than romance. Will you ever tell him how you feel, or will you always just be friends with benefits?

warnings: smut, nipple play, fingering, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, oral sex, cock warming, friends with benefits, friends to lovers, dirty talk, squirting, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, hair pulling, mentions of choking, love confessions

word count: 4409

author’s note: I'm shadowbanned on my main account everyone please clap (not for nsfw, I was flagged for spam yay) so I'll be posting on this shiny new blog, ao3, and wattpad for the time being. (those are both linked on my masterpost) hopefully I'll be unbanned soon because I've had my main tumblr for a decade and it has 2.5k followers on it and I'll fr cry my eyes out if I can't get unbanned!!! anyway please enjoy this!! I wrote a good chunk of this while at work this week. the horny really unleashes in the second part haha. please leave feedback if you enjoy! <3

PLEASE FOLLOW THIS BLOG. BUT ALSO, DO NOT UNFOLLOW MY MAIN BLOG!

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ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ᴄᴏᴘʏ, ʀᴇᴘʀᴏᴅᴜᴄᴇ, ᴏʀ ᴄʟᴀɪᴍ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋ ᴀs ʏᴏᴜʀs ᴏɴ ᴛᴜᴍʙʟʀ, ᴀᴏ3, ᴡᴀᴛᴛᴘᴀᴅ, ᴏʀ ᴀɴʏ ᴡᴇʙsɪᴛᴇ. ʏᴏᴜ ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴘᴇʀᴍɪssɪᴏɴ ᴛᴏ ᴜsᴇ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋs ɪɴ ᴀɪ ɢᴇɴᴇʀᴀᴛᴏʀs ᴏʀ ᴀɴʏᴛʜɪɴɢ ᴛᴏ ᴅᴏ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴀʀᴛɪғɪᴄɪᴀʟ ɪɴᴛᴇʟʟɪɢᴇɴᴄᴇ. ʏᴏᴜ ᴍᴀʏ ɴᴏᴛ ᴜsᴇ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋs ᴛᴏ sᴇʟʟ ғᴏʀ ᴀs ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴏᴡɴ ᴄʀᴇᴀᴛɪᴏɴ

Cillian’s lips hover over yours, and you can feel his warm breath hitting your face. His eyelashes almost touch your cheeks, and his nose is beside yours, barely brushing against it. 

“I want you so bad,” Cillian whispers, his hands finding your hips.

You have been friends since the 90s when Cillian first arrived in Hollywood, stumbling upon you at a local bar where you worked. Ever since, you’ve both been the best of friends. But tonight, that’s being challenged. The lights in Cillian’s place are dimmed, candles are lit, and wine is flowing through the two of you. Having a bit to drink in a comfortable setting isn’t out of the norm, but for some reason, tensions were high tonight. You could almost cut it with a knife. Everything about him is more mesmerizing tonight- his eyes, his freckles, the way he smiles. You needed him, and apparently, he needed you too. 

“Then have me,” you mutter against Cillian’s lips.

He chuckles humorlessly, shaking his head slightly, “I don’t want to ruin us.”

“You won’t,” you look down at his lips- they’re so close to yours that you can feel them move whenever he speaks.

“Promise?”

“I promise,” you breathe, grabbing hold of Cillian’s face as he finally puts his mouth on yours.

The kiss immediately becomes hungry, your teeth nearly clashing together as Cillian slips his tongue around yours. He’s gripping your hips fiercely, and his sideburns press pleasantly into your palms as you hold his head steady. Cillian pulls you onto his lap from your sitting position on the couch next to him, seating you firmly on his thighs. Your fingers find his hair, tugging it slightly as a small whimper vibrates in Cillian’s throat. The sound spurs you on, and you take over the kiss, dominating his tongue with yours. You explore his mouth and suck on his tongue harshly, pulling away from the embrace to catch your breath.

“Fuck,” Cillian curses, leaning his forehead against yours, “You’re good at this.”

You scoff, putting both your hands on his cheeks as you trace your thumb along his sharp cheekbones, “And to think you would’ve never known.”

“Not necessarily,” Cillian looks you in the eyes, “I would’ve gotten you one way or another.”

“Then why have you waited so long, then? Hmm?” you ask.

“I value our friendship,” Cillian admits.

“I do, too, Cill. But god, if I had known you were so good at kissing, I would’ve done it ages ago,” you smirk, running your finger across his bottom lip.

His eyes follow your movements before they flick up to yours, darkening, “I’m not just good at that.”

His words shoot straight to your lower belly, warmth spreading through you, “Is that right?”

“Mhmm,” Cillian pulls you closer to his chest, your core settling right on his.

“Show me.”

Cillian attacks your lips again, this time biting down on your lower lip and rolling it between his teeth. You watch his face as he does it, his icy eyes becoming a darker shade of blue. His hand moves from your hip to your hair, his fingers sliding through your locks before they tighten, pulling your head backward to expose your neck. Cillian leaves hot, open-mouthed kisses along the column of your neck, licking a stripe up the side before he bites at the skin, leaving a small bruise to form below your jaw. You squirm slightly at the feeling of his teeth pressing into your skin, dangerously close to breaking its surface. Cillian then kisses your collarbones, stopping when he reaches the neck of your shirt, well, his shirt. You always took from his wardrobe, whether it was a beanie, t-shirt, or hoodie that he forgot he had. He slides his hand from your hip to underneath the shirt, pressing his palm to your feverish skin and pushing it up slowly until he reaches your breast. 

“No bra?” Cillian asks, surprised.

“I never wear a bra when I’m over here,” you admit, “I’m surprised you’ve never noticed.”

“I’m glad I never noticed, or else I’d be underneath your shirt constantly,” Cillian pulls his hand from your hair to move it under the shirt along with the other.

“Doesn’t sound too bad to me,” you giggle, but it’s cut off by a quiet moan when Cillian grasps your breasts.

Cillian brushes his thumbs over your nipples, circling the buds as they harden under his touch. You hum, letting your head fall back at the sensation. Cillian pushes the shirt up and over your chest, and you help him pull it all the way off, tossing it somewhere in the living room. Immediately, Cillian latches onto one of your nipples, toying with the other one with his fingers. Electricity shoots to your still-clothed core, and you know that Cillian can feel you beginning to throb through your thin shorts. His playing with your breasts could get you off alone; his touch is like nothing you’ve ever felt before. It’s sometimes sensual and soft and rough and firm when needed. Cillian grazes his teeth over the sensitive bud, pulling it toward him as you let out a yelp. You involuntarily bare down on his lap and feel him growing harder underneath you. He lands a slap to your breast, and you gasp, hands going to grip his biceps to ground yourself. 

“I can feel you getting excited,” Cillian teases, raising his hips a little to let all your weight sit on him momentarily.

“What are you gonna do about it, then?” you stifle a moan at his bulge pressing into your clit harshly.

Cillian pushes you off his lap and onto the couch, where he spreads your legs and yanks your shorts down your thighs, discarding them wherever the shirt also previously went. He pulls your calves onto his shoulders, laying on his chest between your thighs. His breath hits your dampened underwear, sending goosebumps across your skin. You bite your lip as Cillian plays with the edges of your underwear right against where you need him most. He toys with the fabric, letting his fingers barely touch you underneath. 

“I’ve waited so long for this,” Cillian confesses, his intense eyes flickering up to your face.

You feel your cheeks burn, “Me too.”

Cillian smiles his typical beautiful smile, teeth and all, as he pulls your underwear down your legs painfully slow, “I’ve always imagined how wet you’d get just from me teasing you.”

You bite back a whimper as he removes your underwear from your legs, letting them fall to the floor. 

“You’d get soaked from me playing with your pussy, rubbing your clit slowly, and eating you out until you cry,” Cillian lets his filthy words fall from his lips as you shiver from them, wanting to close your legs subconsciously.

But they were perched on Cillian’s shoulders, and he was about to go in for the kill. He kneads your thigh before pushing it to the side, letting it drape off the edge of the couch and opening you up further to him. Cillian’s fingers brush against your hardening clit like it’s the most delicate thing in the world, making you tremble as you grunt from the sensual feeling.

“Please,” you sigh, your hips jerking up when Cillian pulls his hand away.

“Please, what?”

“Touch me, Cill. God, I need you to touch me.”

Cillian strokes your entrance with his index finger, gathering your wetness before dragging it up to your clit. He circles the bundle of nerves slowly, making you whine above him. 

“So wet already,” Cillian moans, “You’re so beautiful.”

You throw your head back against the arm of the couch when Cillian finally replaces his finger with the tip of his tongue, going around and around the sensitive bud, never coming directly in contact with it. He changes his mind about that and starts to lap at your clit, flicking his tongue over it as his fingers travel back to your now-dripping entrance. Cillian hums in satisfaction at the feeling of your arousal seeping out of you at his expense. He flattens his tongue and licks a fat stripe up your slit before swirling his tongue around your clit, his tongue still flat and giving your entire bundle of nerves attention. Cillian probes you with a single finger, pushing it in as you moan his name. He pumps it in and out of you, curling it against your g spot with every thrust. He adds a second finger, and the sound of your wetness grows louder, mixing with your breathy moans and Cillian’s pants. 

“Say my name again,” Cillian bites his lip, watching as his soaked fingers move in and out of you.

“Cillian,” you whine, moving your hips along with his fingers.

“That’s right, fuck yourself on my fingers, darling,” he says, adding a third finger in you.

To say you‘re a mess is an understatement. You need Cillian inside you, as your walls are clenching around his fingers with desperation. You grab his shirt, “Fuck me, please.”

“Thought you’d never ask,” Cillian smirks, lifting his shirt off his lean body before standing up to tug his pants and underwear down and off his legs. 

Cillian teases your clit with his leaking head before lining himself up with you. He looks at you with an unsure expression, and you nod in response to the unspoken question. He slowly pushes himself into you, your warmth already fluttering around him. Cillian guides himself all the way to his hilt, letting out a throaty groan when he feels his entire length surrounded by your velvety walls. His hands run up and down your abdomen, stopping when he palms over your breasts. They’re still sensitive from the previous activity and your growing arousal, causing you to wriggle when Cillian’s fingers deftly pinch at both your nipples as he slowly pulls himself almost out of you entirely before slamming back into you. You cry out, your hands flying to where his back meets his shoulders, nails digging softly into his flesh. Cillian moans when you clench harshly around him when he tugs at your nipple particularly hard. 

“You like these pretty titties to be played with, huh?” Cillian runs his tongue along his bottom lip as he watches your face twist in pleasure when he pulls at the sensitive skin.

You nod, but he lets go of your breasts, running his hands over your body before his hand snakes between the two of you, rubbing tight circles on your clit. You let out a throaty moan, and Cillian curses under his breath as his hips snap against yours at a steady rhythm. 

“Fuuuuck,” you drawl, eyes rolling into the back of your head as your body heaves into the couch from the velocity of Cillian’s perfect cock slamming into you without mercy, “You feel so good inside of me.”

You push Cillian up and off you, shoving him onto the couch behind him. You climb on his lap, throwing your legs over his thighs as you line him back up with your aching cunt. Feeling him stretch you out completely while at a different angle makes you moan uncontrollably as you set a pace, riding Cillian as if your life depended on it. Your ass slaps his hips as he guides them up and down, thrusting into you dead-on. Cillian’s tip hits your cervix flawlessly, and you feel that tightness in your belly. 

“Cum inside me, Cillian,” you swivel your hips, “Fill me up and make me yours.”

“Gonna cum around my cock first?” Cillian’s lips are swollen from incessantly biting as he watches you fuck yourself on him.

You decide you’ll milk him for all he’s got and lean down to land a bruising kiss on his lips. Both of you pant into each other’s mouths as you near your peak, reaching underneath you to flick your clit. Cillian grips your ass as you feel yourself unravel, your orgasm ripping through you. Your walls cave in on CIllian’s length, causing him to reach his own orgasm before he’s ready. He squirms underneath you as you continue to bounce on his cock, coaxing every drop of cum out of him. 

“Fuck,” Cillian exhales as he runs a hand through his sweaty hair, looking just as fucked out as you.

You lay down on his chest, him still inside you. He doesn’t bother moving either; the feeling of you still cloaked around him made him dizzy. Cillian is still trying to wrap his head around how this is real. He also is trying to figure out where to go from here. He’s terrified of telling you his true feelings for you, fearing you won’t want to be friends anymore. Obviously, tonight the dynamic has changed from just friendship between the two of you. 

“I can’t tell you how long I’ve been waiting for that,” you trace shapes into Cillian’s bare chest, peering up at him when he doesn’t answer. 

He appears deep in thought.

“Everything okay?” you ask, furrowing your eyebrows at the man underneath you.

Cillian nods, his hand finding your hair before stroking it softly, “Just thinking.”

“About?” you rest your chest on his collarbone.

“How much I’d like to do this again,” Cillian says, and you chuckle.

“That can be arranged,” you leave a kiss on his neck, his eyes meeting yours through his eyelashes.

“I don’t want to ruin our friendship, though,” Cillian says worriedly.

“You haven’t ruined anything. And I’ve had just as much to do with this as you,” you say, putting your finger under Cillian’s chin to look at him directly, “You’re still my best friend.”

“And you’re fine with whatever this is?”

“It’s the best of both worlds,” you shrug with a smile. 

Cillian moves to sit up against the couch's armrest still sheathed inside you. And as you start yet another make out session and begin to rock your hips with your walls still hugging his cock, you try not to think. The idea that you must hide your feelings for Cillian even more is hard to wrap your mind around.

But little did you know, he was having the same problem. He tries not to think about it as he thrusts into you sloppily, letting you ride him as you please. 

—

“Jesus, shit!”

“God, you’re so fucking drenched. All of this for me?”

“Uh-huh,” you whimper, letting out a pornographic moan as one of Cillian’s hands holds your swollen cunt open while the other rubs at it vigorously.

“Just like that-” Cillian moans at the sounds you’re letting out, “Need you to cum on my face, pretty thing.”

You cry out, rocking your hips against Cillian’s merciless hand as it flies across your pussy with no sign of stopping. He pokes out his middle finger to catch your clit with every swipe of his hand. Your orgasm explodes in your stomach, your core gushing cum as Cillian hurries to dip his face down. He latches his mouth onto your cunt, flicking his tongue over your bundle of nerves, causing you to squirt again. 

“Fuuuck,” you squeal, your hands gripping Cillian’s hair like a vice.

Cillian can’t get enough. He’s not gonna lie, he thinks he’s absolutely obsessed with making you squirt. He could do it all night and still get off at the sight. Cillian laps at your pussy, spreading his tongue around your folds, stimulating the sensitive area further.

“Cill, I’m gonna cum again,” you warn, but Cillian just keeps his eyes closed as he sneaks two fingers inside you.

His fingertips brush against your g spot and send you over the edge a third time, and Cillian’s nipping at your clit causes you to gush again. You were slightly embarrassed but incredibly turned on by it. And you know Cillian is relishing in it, literally and figuratively. He pulls away from you, a little reluctantly, and wipes his mouth and face with the back of his arm. You grab his face and pull him into you as he collapses on your naked, heaving chest. You stare at Cillian, the light from the side table’s lamp shining into his eyes just right. They’re returning to an arctic blue as his heart rate calms, his pupils going back to normal size. Cillian stares back at you, studying your features just as you are his. Freckles sprinkle Cillian’s cheeks and nose, dotting along his forehead and chin as well. His lips are red and swollen, and he’s sporting a lopsided smile as he looks at you. 

“You’re perfect,” you whisper, combing your fingers through his hair, “Literally everything you do, say, and how you look is just flawless. Are you sure you aren’t an angel?” you joke.

A smile spreads upon Cillian’s face as his cheeks tinge pink, the warmth traveling to his ears, “I’m not perfect by any means, and no, I’m not an angel,” he says, his accent thick and raspy from the previous exertion. 

“Mmm, I’m not sure about that,” you say as CIllian softly kisses your neck.

God, I love you, you want to say. Because you do; you love him. You always have, but sharing such intimate moments with Cillian has just strengthened the feeling you already had. You’re honestly exhausted but still blissed out from Cillian going absolutely feral on you. You have never squirted before, and if you could, you’d let him make you squirt all night. You’d watch as your arousal covers his pretty face, delighting him much like it did earlier. Cillian looked like a kid in a candy store as you gushed for him. 

“I’ve never squirted before, so,” you mutter, covering your face with your hands, “Yeah, I’d consider that angelic.”

“Really?” Cillian asks incredulously, “Never? Not even by yourself?”

“Especially not by myself,” you chuckle, uncovering your face to look at Cillian, “You’re better than any vibrator or dildo I own.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” Cillian bites your jaw playfully before reaching down and grabbing the duvet, covering the both of you with it.

He rolls off you, much to your dismay. But he immediately pulls you into his chest, holding you tightly with his arms as if you’ll disappear. Cillian slides a leg between yours, his knee pressed against you softly. He rubs his nose against your ear, “Still wet, pretty?”

“Shut up,” you mutter shyly, burying your face in his arms.

“Only if you make me,” Cillian teases you, nipping at your earlobe.

You groan, “Too tired,” you feel Cillian’s hand travel down your navel to gauge how wet you still are, “I don’t think I can move.”

“Who said you had to move?” Cillian asks, pulling your thigh up until your leg is draped over his hip, spreading you open for perfect access.

Before you can ask him to touch you, Cillian lines his length up with your still-needy cunt. You’re surprised you had any remainder of horniness left in you. But there’s something about Cillian that naturally turns you on. You’ve noticed it’s gotten more intense now that he’s your sexual partner. It’s like you can’t get enough of him, and he can’t get enough of you, either. Cillian nudges his tip into you before letting it glide in without a hitch. The way you’re laying makes the angle at which he’s inside of you feel irresistible. You let Cillian play with your still-sensitive clit as his hips snap into your ass. His hot, heavy breath is in your ear as he fucks you slowly. You toss your arm behind you, grabbing the back of Cillian’s neck for leverage as you turn your head around. His lips meet yours hungrily, and he swallows your guttural moans as you fuck yourself on his cock. Cillian’s other hand snakes from underneath you, his fingers wrapping around your throat. He doesn’t press them into your skin but lets them rest there, almost possessively. 

You’ve been exploring each other’s bodies ever since the first night you had sex- trying different angles and positions. But you told Cillian that you didn’t want anything rough. That was reserved for a romantic relationship. Cillian felt a twinge of hurt in his chest when you said that, as if you had meant you weren’t planning on a romantic relationship with him specifically. But he understood and respected your boundaries despite his weird sadness about not being able to do certain things with you. Cillian thought it odd because you were not his, so he had no right to hurt you consensually or mark you as his. So, he shouldn’t be so upset about it. Yet he is because he wants you to trust him with everything you have, and he wants to take care of you after the roughness. Cillian wants you to be taken care of. But he knows his limits and that he can’t break the rules of the friends-with-benefits situation. So Cillian doesn’t choke you during sex, or slap you, or kiss you outside the bedroom- especially in public. He bites his tongue every time you do something that melts his heart. He refrains from saying those three little words every day. Cillian has no idea how much you wished he would break the rules just once or how you wished he’d say he loves you. 

Something comes over you, though. You reach a hand up and cover Cillian’s that is on your neck and press his fingers into the sides of your throat. You sigh contently as your head becomes cloudy from the lack of blood flow to your head. Cillian stops rubbing your clit and takes your hand from over his, slipping his fingers between yours and pinning it in front of you.

You whimper in detest, and Cillian nips at the skin behind your ear, “Naughty thing. Don’t break your own rules, sweetheart.”

You sigh in defeat, but before you can pout, a moan rips through your chest. Cillian pushed your clave up into your thigh, thus making it easier for him to ram his cock against your cervix in a way that sends stars floating across your vision. Your hand squeezes his as you feel your release creeping up.

“I’m gonna cum,” you whisper, watching as Cillian’s length moves in and out of you quickly.

It was erotic yet romantic, him being so close to you and inside you. You and Cillian are now one, but you wish things were different. 

“Good,” Cillian kisses the back of your neck, his nose drawing circles in your skin delicately.

You breathe deeply, feeling your stomach clench. You cry out Cillian’s name as you unravel, his fingers pressing to your clit. Your body trembles and shakes as he continues his assault on the bundle of nerves, still chasing after his own high as he keeps thrusting into you. Your back arches, toes curling as another wave of pleasure hits you. 

“You’re doing so good, angel,” Cillian praises in your ear, “Taking my cock so well. I’m almost there, just hold on.”

The feeling of Cillian exploding inside you sends you over the edge for the third and final time. Stars erupt behind your eyelids, your body convulsing from pleasure. Your pussy clenches around him as he rides out his orgasm, panting in your ear. He almost doesn’t hear you say it. Almost.

“Fuck, I love you,” you whine quietly.

You gasp, immediately realizing what’s slipped from your mouth in a shroud of cloudy pleasure. But you hide your gasp as you catch your breath, inhaling and exhaling sharply. You pray to whatever is out there that Cillian didn’t hear you proclaim your feelings in a vulnerable moment.

Cillian grunts as he pulls out of you, letting your leg go limp and relax back on the bed. He keeps his hand entangled with yours. But you pull your grasp out of his, turning around and facing him. You hurriedly bury your face in his chest so you can’t look at him and see how he’s possibly reacting to your words. Cillian wordlessly wraps his arms around you, pulling you even closer to him. You fight the urge to cry at the silence of the dimly lit room as Cillian tugs the duvet over your sweaty, naked bodies. You try and steady your breath and keep your heart from racing.

“Can you say it again?” Cillian finally asks after several minutes of dead silence.

You lift your head from his chest, looking at him confused, “Say what?”

Cillian looks at you seriously before lifting his hand to touch your face gingerly, “What you said a moment ago.”

“You didn’t hear that, did y-”

“I did. But I want you to say again.”

Tears brim your eyes as you feel heaviness in your chest- will he make fun of you? Did you just ruin everything?

You let out a choked sob, hiding your face in his neck, “I love you. I fucking love you. There, I said it,” you slam your fist against his chest. “Feel free to hate me, but it’s true.”

“I could never hate you, gorgeous,” Cillian pulls away from you, his hands grabbing your cheeks so you’re looking directly at him.

His eyelashes flutter against your cheekbones, much like they did the first time you kissed him weeks ago. You blink away your tears, but Cillian wipes them away with his thumbs.

“I love you too,” Cillian confesses, “I love you so much. You know that?”

Your lips tremble as you nod, but Cillian presses his forehead against yours, and you try to ground yourself. He loves you. Cillian loves you back. Cillian kisses your lips gently as if he’d break you. You grasp his hair, kissing him back passionately.  

“I love you,” you say, pulling away from his lips and kissing his eyelids instead.

“I love everything about you,” you brush your lips across his cheeks, then kiss his nose, “Your angel kisses. Your beautiful eyes. Everything about you. I wasn’t lying when I said you’re perfect.”

Cillian laughs, and you melt at his smile.

“You,” Cillian says, “Are everything to me. Everything that brings me joy, everything that makes me happy.”

You wrap your arms around Cillian’s neck, pulling him close to you as you tuck your face into his neck.

“Never let go,” Cillian says, his arms snaking around your waist and holding you close.

“I won’t,” you say, a heaviness lifting from your chest at last, “I never will.”

taglist:

@baizzhu @aporiasposts @hjmalmed @queenshelby @amanda08319 @naty-1001 @orijanko @raineeace @nela-cutie @cutexlr @flwrs4aust @langdons-slut @shynovelist

[jedi-enthusiast]

My [ongoing] CodyWan Fic Masterlist

Hello! Sorry that this post is a little late, as I said in another post, I've been busy and it kinda got sidetracked--but it's here now!

This rec list isn't gonna be as long as the other one, since I haven't really had time to get into new fics (life stuff + the work of writing my own fic), but there a still a good chunk of them + a couple are series.

They're gonna be separated into "Ongoing" and "Abandoned" so that way you know what you're getting into and I'll put more info in the description--and yes, I'm recommending a couple abandoned works because I think they're still good and maybe with enough support the authors will decide to continue. Either way, they're good fics.

Ongoing

shoulder the sky by @shootingstarpilot

Have I already recced this series? Yes. Am I still reccing it again? Also yes.

I seriously cannot rave enough about how awesome and well done this fic is, and no amount of me harping on it will ever do it thejustice it deserves. This fic has made me laugh, cry, get really pissed at the characters, and it has me waiting (im)patiently for every update--like, every single day I check Ao3 and it's just to check if this fic has updated.

It handles Jedi and Clone culture beautifully and adds in so much interesting world building, it perfectly balances out the fluff with the angst, it handles grief and PTSD very well, and so many other things! The author is also honestly just very sweet and even takes time out of his day to reply to as many comments as possible (which is insane, because there are always like 70+ comments on every chapter).

The Emperor and His Mandalorian by wanderingjedihistorian (RangerJedi67)

Technically I think this would be considered finished, but the author has added a new work to the series every couple months since I found it, so I'm adding it here just in case.

It's a Sith!Obi-Wan AU where Obi-Wan kicks Palpatine's ass and becomes Emperor and marries Cody, son of Manda'lor Jango Fett, as an agreement when Mandalore surrenders to him. I honestly really like how this fic handles Obi-Wan as a Sith and how that affects his actions and relationships with others, as well as Cody being a sort of "balance" for Obi-Wan's dark tendencies.

I'm not even a big fan of Sith!Obi-Wan fics, but this series is the one that got me to start reading some of them--so it definitely comes recommended!

no one left to sing to by slotmachines_fearofgod

This fic is a really interesting take on what would happen in TCW if Cody took more of an active role in the story. I love the author's take on Cody's character and how both his duty to his brothers and all the Kamino bullshit effects how Cody handles Obi-Wan and his feelings towards him.

Also the ending of the most recent update had me screaming and crying at my computer.

The art of living anyway by Itstwointhemorningwhyamiawake

A "Rex is Force-sensitive" fic that follows Cody and Obi-Wan's relationship as well. This fic is pretty new, so I don't really know where it's going, but the first two chapters have been amazing so far!

Abandoned

the sun is just a star by clementines_and_colorful_things

It's hard to give this fic a description that does it justice, but it's honestly really really good. It's basically a slow burn that follows Obi-Wan and Cody through TCW and, according to the tags, would eventually lead to Order 66 happening differently than in RotS.

More Than Blood by generalekenobi

Where Order 66 happens a bit differently and Cody and Obi-Wan end up on the run with baby Luke and Leia, having to masquerade as a Mandalorian couple to do so (uh-huh, yep, totally fake--them have feelings for each other? never).

I really love how this fic gives Cody agency and lets him go "no, we're not doing that, try again" and actually effect the story's outcome. It makes the story a lot more interesting and adds to the dynamic between Cody and Obi-Wan--both relationship-wise and in their newfound mission in taking care of the twins.

I Can Barely Recall (but it's all coming back to me now) by Shortcuts_make_long_delays

Ok, so I don't know if this fic is abandoned or just taking a while to update, so I just put it here--just be aware of that.

This is a Modern!AU where Cody and Obi-Wan used to date, but broke up due to something that keeps being hinted at but not overtly stated (and fuck, I just wanna know what happened! It's killing me!), and now Cody meets his ex "Ben" again when he turns out to be Obi-Wan, Anakin's older brother.

This fic is really interesting and well written and, like I said before, I really just want to know wtf the accident is--the suspense is killing me! Ahhhhhh!

Honorable Mention

An honorable mention for Not This Crude Matter by thebitterbeast

This fic was gonna be apart of the "ongoing" section, but the final part was posted like right after I posted my finished CodyWan rec list.

This series isn't just centered around Cody and Obi-Wan, but I still think it handles their relationship--and other relationships--beautifully. It centers mainly around Jedi culture and it's honestly one of my favorite takes on it. I can't recommend this series enough!

[caulifleurrr]

Left Behind for the Holidays Pt. 4 (DISCONTINUED)

It's the morning after that cozy little moment you shared with the Lieutenant. You happily indulge him in domesticity, but it seems he has other plans.

A/N: OMG I'm back !! I'm so sorry this part took so long, I'm getting buried by papers to grade ;w; Once I'm done for the summer, I can write more stuff >:3

Masterlist here! (discontinued as of 2025, i was literally gone for more than a year oof)

"Sprout?" Ghost asks, his morning voice even more gravelly than his usual register. You blink the squint at the light streaming in from your windows. You feel something move under you, and you mumble incoherently, trying to fend the sleep off.

"It's morning." The surface below you rumbles, and it finally dawns on you. You're lying on top of Ghost, your head on his chest. You both must've fallen asleep on the couch.

"Ghost?" You ask, rubbing sleep from your eyes.

"I'm here. You fell asleep on me, and I didn't dare disturb you. You were out like a light, you didn't even finish your cocoa." He replies, placing a hand on the small of your back to support you while he sits up with a soft grunt. You both sit up, with you cradled between his legs.

Your eyes dart to the coffee table, seeing a mug half empty with your drink from last night.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to-" You start, face heating up in embarrassment and the realization of what happened last night.

"It's alright, I don't mind." He says reassuringly. You slowly look up at him, and he smiles warmly. His brown eyes crinkle, blonde hair slightly sticking out.

Oh my god, he looks so adorable. He kinda looks like a ruffled dog, aww.

"You were wonderfully warm against me. Like a weighted heated blanket." He adds, with a soft chuckle. You smile back, and quickly get up from the couch. You start cleaning up the remnants of your snack from last night.

As you gather the snack wrappers, Ghost stands up and stretches. You steal a glance over at him, and see that the hem of his shirt has lifted a bit, showing a good chunk of his toned torso with an assortment of scars. He takes the bottle and mug, then puts them on the tray. You finish cleaning up the coffee table and walk to the kitchen to dispose the trash. He follows suit and places the mug and tray in the sink.

"Thanks for turning the TV off last night. I could've racked a higher electricity bill this month if you didn't." You say to him as he pads over to you. He leans his back against the kitchen counter, yawns and nods.

"At least I know how to turn it off." He grumbles, eyes narrowing about his difficulty with your smart TV last night. He shoots you a curious look, and he walks over to the counter. He gets some bread slices, placing them on a plate.

"I'll make breakfast. You okay with toast? That's probably the only thing I know how to make." Ghost offers, mumbling the last sentence, but you still hear it. You chuckle, getting a pot from the cabinet then washing it with your used mug. He stands behind you, and you could feel his looming height on your back. You set your mug on the rack, and wipe the pot down.

"Tell you what, we can also make some soup. Then we add mushrooms, tomatoes and some green peppers on it." You say, rinsing a few of the mentioned veggies from the colander on the sink.

"Wouldn't that take long?" He asks with a small voice. You turn back, look up at his face, and see that his brow is gently furrowed.

He looks so innocent, poor guy didn't have the time to practice cooking a lot of dishes.

"No, just a soup base with some added nutrition. You tried this before?" You ask, with him shaking his head slightly. You smile, eager to teach your Lieutenant a thing or two in upgrading instant food. He looks over your shoulder as you show him how to dice the mushrooms, and he volunteers to cut the other veggies. You move to the side to toast the bread he left on the counter, when you hear him hiss and curse under his breath.

"Bloody hell." He exhales, having cut his finger. He instinctively sucks on it, spitting the blood out in the sink. You get a bandage from your first aid kit, and rush over to him. He washes the cut first, and dries it off. You apply the plaster on him, and can't help but chuckle in your head.

The Lieutenant. Silent, efficient killer on the battlefield. Hardened soldier. But he struggles with domesticity and some technology. That's quite surprising and not at the same time.

"I'm not good at these things." Ghost says in a small voice, thanking you after for the bandage. You shush him, and pat his large hand.

"Understandable, don't worry." You reassure him. You let him sit down at the table, and you finish chopping the veggies. You drop them into the pot, add the soup base and water, then move to the stove. He stands and shadows you once more, then gently nudges you to move aside. Realizing he wants to help, you hand him the spatula and he stirs the soup with your guidance. You feel your chest grow warm, directing the lieutenant as he keeps a watchful eye on the pot. Soon after, the soup is done, and he divides it evenly onto two bowls.

"This is quite proper, actually." He mumbles, mouth full of food. You reply with a "mhm", blowing on your spoon then taking a careful sip of the hot soup. He quietly stares at you while you eat, his eyes trained on your lips.

"Told you it'll be better with a few additions." You say, satisfied. You both finish your meal in relative silence, just the clink of your utensils ringing out in the dining area.

"I'll clean up." Ghost offers, taking your empty bowl. You take it back from him, tutting.

"No, you have a cut. Best to let it dry out and heal." You say, walking over to the sink with your dishes.

"You can repay me next time." You add, feeling a bit playful. Behind you, he nods, clenching his jaw.

From the corner of your eye, you see his large form move like a dark plume of smoke. Next thing you know, his hand is on your shoulder, the other gently planting itself on your waist. Your body frozen, you feel his breath hot against the shell of your ear.

"How about I repay you now?"

What-

You turn your body, looking up at him with a confused expression. You try to read his face, while also trying to control your train of thought going at a thousand kilometers per second. His gaze intense on you, arms on either side of you, hands now resting on the edge of the counter. You feel incredibly dwarfed, and all you could do is get lost in his eyes.

"Ghost-"

"I can't take it anymore."

"What?"

"I... Fuck, I need to kiss you."

!!!!!!!!

Your eyes widen like the bowls in the sink, and he closes in slowly, stopping mere centimeters away from your face.

"Is that okay?" He asks, his voice low but gentle. He bats his blonde eyelashes, clearly hoping you'll consent.

You can hear your heartbeat in your head, pulsing at your temples. You will yourself to quiet your mind down, and focus on your reply. You gulp nervously, lips parting.

"Yes, please."

Ghost smiles slightly before closing in the distance, eyelids closing as his lips meet yours. The stiffness in your shoulders disappears, and you eagerly welcome the kiss. Besides, you've been dreaming of this for a while now.

Your hands travel to his face, one hand on his stubbly cheek and the other pulling the back of his neck closer. He flinches slightly at your touch, but his kisses become more needy. He starts to growl into the kiss, and you reply with breathy whimpers into his mouth.

"I've been wanting to do this for quite some time now." He says in between kisses.

"Me too, Ghost." You whimper, fingers in his blonde hair.

"No, no. Call me Simon." He growls, nibbling on your bottom lip.

"S-Simon." You start, hesitant, as it's the first time he's allowed you to call him by his name. It flicks a switch in him though, and in one swift motion, he picks you up and puts you on the counter. This way, your height difference doesn't make things hard.

"Oh, fuck. That's it, love." He growls, his hand snaking around your waist to pull you even closer. The other one cups your jaw, his thumb rubbing circles on your cheek. His body presses onto you, warm and comforting. After a while, he pulls away, softly panting. He smiles at you, eyes scanning your flushed face. His lips have turned rosy from the kissing, and he chuckles lowly.

Half-lidded and a bit kissdrunk, you watch him move his face close as he whispers to you.

"Do you... want to take this further?"

I... Can't say no to that.

"Yes, Simon."