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skywarpie · 19 days

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In the Shadow of Memories

Anyway, ao3 is down and my computer is broken, so you guys get the fic here for the time being.

Tw: nothing much except isolation, and depression. But nothing like super bad. Nsft at the end and use of sex as a vice ig

Word count: 3,758

Summary:

Copia learns he doesn't have to be alone anymore.

Longing is something that he sometimes thinks he was born with. An itch that can't be scratched, save only for the sake that no one offers to scratch it. The longing of childhood – knowing that he never fits in no matter what. How he watched the other children as he was growing up, saw how their parents doted on them. How their siblings poked fun at them. It was something he never had, even though it was no further than arms length away.

He was seven when he slowly began to piece the pieces together.

Sister Imperator, though stern, seemed to show favoritism to him. It did nothing to help his social standings.

Then he'd overheard her speaking to Nihil. Talking about how their child was not shaping up to be everything he should be. Copia had wanted to scream at them, but it would draw attention to himself, and that didn't really bode well for eavesdropping.

Shortly after he'd tried to make connections with the elder three brothers.

Primo had seemed indifferent. Kind but indifferent.

Secondo had ignored him altogether, acting like he didn't even exist. Sometimes he didn't feel like he really did.

Terzo had – well Terzo had been his last hope. They were closer in age than the other two. Sure he was nearly fifteen years his senior, but it couldn't hurt to try, right? As a result of his hopefulness, Terzo had taken advantage of every situation, doing any and everything and leaving Copia to take the blame for. He was well aware Copia would never voice his own innocence.

By age ten, he'd been reprimanded more than any other child in the ministry for crimes he wasn't responsible for. Sister's irritation had grown and Papa Nihil’s hatred had taken a dark turn. Sometimes he shut the door in Copia's face, sent him on wild goose chases, it was all too much.

It shouldn't have been any surprise when a ghoul fetched him from his lessons one morning. Informed him his things had been packed and he would be set on a train to the airport. From there, he would make his way to Rome, where he would stay for the foreseeable future.

He'd wanted to ask. Why am I being sent away? I can be better. Where is Sister Imperator? Why wasn't she taking him to the airport?

But he already knew all the answers to those questions.

He was a bother. Cumbersome in a small bubble that held the Emeritus line, something that was already fragile enough without his unannounced parenthood.

Copia remembers trying to hold the large ghoul's hand as he stood in the airport. Wanting some sort of comfort, even if it was from someone sending him away. Instead, he'd been scolded. Told he should know better at his age.

He'd retracted his hand as if burnt and boarded the plane without so much as a hug, let alone a goodbye.

—

The years slowly bleed together as time continues its endless march.

Now at the young age of twenty-six, Copia has managed to become the youngest Cardinal in the church. He should be proud of himself, happy that he's accomplished something, but he's not. Being completely abandoned by one's family tends to have that sort of effect. Since his arrival here, Sister has sent not a single letter. He should know better but it doesn't sting any less.

“Are you listening?”

Cardinal Astra's voice draws Copia from his spiraling thoughts. “Huh?”

“Where do you go, piccolo ratto?”

Astra has been nothing but Hell sent from the day Copia arrived. The man had taken him under his wing and for a short while Copia got to truly experience what it felt like to have a figurative father. Even now, he still looks over Copia. He just wishes Astra's love could heal that continued hole inside himself. Maybe if he'd been his father instead of Nihil, maybe he wouldn't feel this way.

“I – I am sorry.” Anxious eyes travel downward to settle on the stone floor. He gets lost often, something everyone is accustomed to.

Cardinal Astra smiles softly. “Working hours are over. You are free to leave this cramped office and spend time with your friends.”

Friends. That word makes him nauseous. He's never had friends. He's had acquaintances but never friends.

“Ah – ehm – apologies.” Copia jumps up quickly, collecting his paperwork. “I will leave now. I –”

Astra grabs his wrist. “Copia, you do not need to hide yourself away. We are a congregation and we take care of each other, no?”

Copia nods, knowing he will not be doing that.

–

Copia grunts as his face is pushed further into the sheets. One eye squished shut. The other is trying to remain open despite the massive hand planted on his cheek. A brother of sin mounts him from behind, hips pounding into him like a jackhammer. He should feel something – anything, Copia knows this. Yet his cock hangs limp between his legs, swaying every now and then with each thrust. Copia knows he won't cum tonight. The brother of sin is a bit too harsh for his liking, but then again, Copia hasn't ever cum during these trysts at all to begin with.

A squeak escapes him as the brother thrusts at an uncomfortable angle. Unfortunately for Copia, the man takes it as encouragement and begins pistoning his hips in that motion until he finally cuts.

Copia clamps his eyes shut tight as what should be warmth from the cum inside him is slightly uncomfortable rather than pleasurable. The man pulls out with a grunt, flopping down beside him.

“Fuck that was good.”

Well, at least someone enjoyed it.

It's not like he agrees to these things because he necessarily wants them, rather than in times of desperation for other human touch he'll take a partner to bed. Sometimes he goes to their bed. It depends on his mood at the time.

He's also found himself preferring the brothers to the sisters. The brothers are easily able to over power his lithe frame, manhandle him in any way they want. Sometimes if Copia closes his eyes he can almost imagine it's a loving hug.

But it's not and it never will be.

Copia grunts as he tries to stretch his body out. The position having left him in a cramped state. He squeaks as a hard slap meets the meat of his ass.

“For a twitchy little guy, you sure are a good lay.”

It's a joke – or rather it should be, judging by the way the man laughs breathlessly.

Copia's barely had time to pull his face from the sheets before the brother is dressing and collecting his things. He says something, but honestly Copia doesn't bother to register it. He's leaving anyway. They always leave after.

–

He grabs the towel, drying off his hair and then his body. Then he steps out of the shower, discarding the towel.

Copia wipes the condensation from the bathroom mirror. He sees – honestly, he isn't sure what he sees looking back at him.

His reflection is tired. Even without the black eye makeup. His ribs poke out just a bit too much to be considered healthy. A tired sigh leaves his lips as his gaze settles on the bruises that decorate his whole body. It's a symbol that at least for a short while someone considered him something worthy of love. Even if it was just for a quick fuck.

Copia rubs his eyes before grabbing his robe and wrapping himself in the fluffy fabric. It grounds him. Gives him something to hold onto, to prove he's real.

He makes his way to his bedroom and lies on his back on the freshly changed sheets. He stares at the ceiling. Maybe tomorrow will be another day. A better one.

It won't be, but maybe he can hope.

–

The pen scratches against the paper as he signs off on another document. By now, he's more than positive that he could sign his own name with his eyes closed. That's not really something to be proud of, so to say. But there isn't really much to be proud of when it comes to him.

“You missed breakfast.”

Cardinal Astra stands in the doorway, tray in hand.

Copia knows how lethargic he must look when he glances up. “Mi dispiace. I have been working on this.” He motions to the paperwork.

Astra purses his lips. “You also missed lunch.”

Oh please, don't do this again. Please. Please. Please.

“And it seems that you also missed dinner last night. If the ghouls are to be believed.”

Copia tries to respond but he's shushed.

“We talked about this, Copia. It is unhealthy. You must eat.”

It's not that he doesn't want to eat, so much as what has he done to deserve it? Did he finish all his paperwork? Did he answer correctly when asked questions? Is he even worth keeping around?

It's easy for him to brush it off as forgetfulness. Oh, I was so busy I forgot to eat. Silly me! It doesn't work on anyone, but then again, does anyone even care? Well, besides Astra.

“Sì. Sì. I am well aware of that.”

Is he though? If he was he wouldn't be putting himself through all this emotional and physical turmoil.

“I just – just got distracted.”

Copia sees the look he receives. Distracted enough to still be able to take a brother of sin to your bed?

Copia wilts.

Astra heaves a sigh as he comes fully into the room, shutting the door behind him.

No. No. No. This is not good.

“I had planned to tell you this over dinner last night.” He heaves another sigh. “You are leaving the abbey by the end of the month.”

Leaving? His head is spinning a mile a minute. What has he fucked up now? Why's he never able to fucking do anything right? Why – “Be-because I missed a few meals?” Copia hates the way his voice cracks.

“No.” There's a pregnant pause and Copia finds himself spiraling even more. “Your mo – Sister Imperator, requests that you return to the main abbey.”

“What?”

Astra smooths the front of his cassock. “I have no say in the matter, piccolo ratto. If I did, you'd never have to leave this place.”

He doesn't want this. He wants to stay here, in Rome. He wants –

“Sometimes He gives us obstacles that he thinks will strengthen us. Even if they seem like punishments at the time.”

It's then that Copia finally breaks down. He's being sent away as a punishment yet again.

–

The Swedish abbey is larger than he remembers. It's colder – not a surprise, and more densely populated. Albeit polite, a majority of the siblings look at him with disdain. He's a high ranking newcomer, of course they would.

The first week had been odd. Imperator doted on him as if she were a loving mother finally seeing her son again. Only one of those things was true.

She'd ensured he knew where is office was. How far away his room was. How much paperwork he was to expect and it was expected to be done.

She'd even introduced him to a gaggle of ghouls. Saying that since he ranked so highly, he required protection. Something told him it was just so she could spy on him. Copia was already a nervous man, this did nothing to help ease the issue.

It was easy to fall into a quick routine. The paperwork is really no different than what he did in Rome. It's the one familiarity in this new foreign land.

Unlike his younger self, Copia makes no effort to engage his brothers. He already knows how those interactions will end. Him with an even more broken heart and the feeling of isolation strangling him.

It still confuses him how Sister acts. When he was younger, she never even gave him a glance. Now it's like he was some sort of prodigal son returned to his home.

It made his skin crawl.

–

Slowly, Copia begins to acquaint himself with the ghouls.

Cirrus and Cumulus, the two ghoulettes seem to welcome him with open arms. Cumulus is quick to always have a firm hand on his upper arm. She'll then flash him a smile and it leaves Copia at a loss that someone else he hardly knows is aware of how to calm him. Cirrus is always first to give praise. Good boy! Oh, Cardinal, you work so hard. Take a break. It makes his head swim and he feels like he's in a fog at sea.

It doesn't take long for him to piece together that ghoul packs are female dominant. After the two of them start treating him like one, Copia notes how the other ghouls begin following the same act.

Rain is quiet. Mostly communicating through chirps and trills. He's small, not the smallest, but it's clear he's the youngest. In no time, Copia finds himself with a lap full of ghoul anytime he's in the den. It's almost comforting.

Mountain is – large. So much so that Copia has to tilt his head back to even see the ghoul's face. Not only is he the largest ghoul Copia has ever seen, but he's also the most quiet. The ghoul hardly ever makes a sound.

Swiss is…well, Copia isn't sure how to feel about Swiss. He seems feral most of the time, stalking the rooms, looking for something or someone to get into. It makes Copia uneasy and he tries to avoid him at all costs.

Dewdrop is entirely unapproachable. The ghoul hisses and spits anytime Copia is even in the same room as him. His words are just as harsh as his bite. On more than several accounts, Copia has left the room feeling like he is the size of an ant.

Then there's Aether.

The ghoul is large. Not as large as Mountain, but he's stocky. Oftentimes when in his company, Copia finds himself wondering how those large arms would feel encircled around him. How Aether could easily manhandle him into whatever situation he wants. It sends a chill down his spine and it often ends with him in his room at night, cock in hand and working himself to completion.

It's a nice change from the typical absence of arousal he's felt. But it's also frightening. What does this say about him? That he's so desperate he's gone to fantasizing about ghouls – his ghouls. It's a new feeling he's unfamiliar with and it fills him with dread. It's bad enough his habit of taking partners to bed has followed him here, but if Imperator finds out he's having feelings – let alone relations with his ghouls, well…that could be disastrous.

–

“Cardinal?”

Aether's smooth voice settles in Copia's ears like a warm hug.

“Uh – please – ehm – call me C-Copia.”

His voice wavers and he knows he has to look just as miserable as he sounds.

“Copia.”

It ignites something inside the Cardinal. The way his name rolls off Aether's tongue like honey. He wants more. He wants to hear his name said like that for the rest of his days.

“It's lunch time.”

Oh. Copia shakes himself. “Ah – thank you, but I need to finish this first.” Copia points to the stack of papers on his desk. He wears a weary smile.

“You can take time to eat. You're allotted a lunch break, right?”

“Well, uh yes but –”

“No buts.” Aether makes his way to plant both hands on Copia's desk. “You need to eat.”

Copia sighs defeatedly. “Alright. Fine. Fine.”

He lets himself be led in the direction of the cafeteria. He manages to eat half of some sort of sorry excuse for pasta. The whole while he listens to Aether speak of his packmates. How they're annoying. How he loves them even if he thinks of killing some of them sometimes.

It makes Copia sad and it must show as he begins picking at his food.

“Copia?”

“Hmm?” He doesn't look up from the plate. It feels like far too much effort.

“Is everything okay?” Aether's voice is tentative.

“Sì, just a bit distracted.” He offers a tired smile and it seeks to settle the ghoul.

“And you?”

Copia is entirely caught off guard. He's zoned out during Aether's spiel, getting lost in the lull of his voice. It's only now he realizes this part of the conversation is aimed at him.

It must show on his face and Aether takes pity, repeating the question. “I said my pack mates can be an issue, but they're still important to me. Then I asked about you.”

“What about me?”

“I asked if you felt the same way with your brothers.”

The fork makes a loud clunking noise as he drops it and it bounces on the floor. Does everyone know? Did they know long before he even did?

Copia feels bile rising in the back of his throat. Feels his eyes beginning to sting in that all too familiar way. He has to get out of here. It was a mistake even coming to the cafeteria with the ghoul. He doesn't even realize he's trembling, breathing heavily until a large hand covers his own.

“It's okay.” Aether's voice is soft. Almost as soft as his eyes. “You don't have to answer. I shouldn't have asked to begin with.”

“No, it's – it's –” Copia deflates altogether. He's so tired of pretending nothing is ever wrong. He's just …tired. “To be completely honest, I do not even think they know I exist.” The laugh that follows is meant to be relaxing, but it's self depreciating.

“What do you mean?”

Why does Aether just keep making this more and more harsh. “It is…hard to explain.” His hands move as he talks. “They are aware that I exist. They just ..eh –” he scratches his head. “I can not think of the word in this language.”

“Care.” Aether finishes for him. “They don't care?”

Copia nods. It sounds even worse when it's said out loud. It sounds even more crushing.

“That's okay. You don't need them. You got us, and me.”

Aether winks at Copia as he squeezes his hand. He wants to shout, exclaim how it's so nice to finally maybe feel like a person. But it doesn't keep the question between them from hanging in the air.

But for how long?

–

Months eventually turn into a year and Copia has made a semi comfortable life for himself here. Each day he eats most of his meals with Aether. The ghoul has made it his personal mission to ensure he eats three solid meals a day. As a result, he's picked up a couple pounds. Where once his ribs protruded, now a small paunch makes itself known.

It happens when Aether is at his apartments one night. He's helping Copia go over some numbers for the yearly budget. Who initiates it, he can't say, but be quickly finds himself sinking into the ghoul's affection.

Copia has his arms wrapped around Aether's neck, kissing him like his life depends on it. Their teeth clack together. Aether's tongue hesitantly asks entrance and Copia lets him in. As soon as his jaw is slack enough, Aether is licking into the Cardinal's mouth. A large hand on the back of his head pulls him further into the kiss until Aether is essentially tongue fucking his throat. He wants it to last but he really needs air.

They break apart, a small trail of saliva still connecting them. Copia gulps down lungfuls of air. His brain doesn't even have time to second guess itself, as Aether undresses him in a swiftness he wasn't aware the ghoul had.

It's only when he's lying naked beneath the ghoul that it dawns on him. He's actually erect this time. It knocks the air from his lungs to realize this is all because of Aether.

Their lips are on each other again, hands exploring. Copia jolts when he feels a slick finger rub over his entrance.

“It's okay. I got you.”

Copia whimpers and withers as Aether sinks a finger into him, working him open. Then adding a second and doing the same. When the ghoul pulls out, Copia scrambles to grab for him.

“Hey, it's okay. I'm not going anywhere.”

It's accentuated as Copia feels the ghoul's cock head slip inside him. Fuck they've barely even started and he's already on the verge of blowing his load.

“Such a good boy.” Aether sinks himself deeper until he's finally bottomed out. “Taking me so well. Like you were handcrafted for me.”

He wants it to be rough and demanding, but Aether throws him for a loop when he keeps it soft and comfortable. It has his thighs shaking as he wraps his legs around Aether's waist. He makes the half-hearted attempt to match the thrusts, but he's gone already.

With a cry, Copia's back arches, sending the ghoul's cock further inside himself. He paints his own stomach with white as he cums so forcefully that he sees stars. He only barely registers when Aether cums inside him, fucking it back into him as it drips free. When he's satisfied, Aether pulls out, eliciting a pathetic whine from Copia.

Copia is still staring at the ceiling dazed when a strong hand grabs him and manhandles him over. Oh. This is new. He lets Aether position him until his head is rested comfortably on a large bicep.

The quiet is comfortable at first but quickly sours as his thoughts spin once more. He thinks he does a better job of masking his emotions than he does, but Copia knows Aether can feel the tears against his skin.

“Hey, what's wrong?” Aether tips Copia's head to look up at him. “Did I hurt you?” There's panic in his voice and Copia hates himself even more for being the cause of it.

He laughs tiredly, wiping his eyes. “No, it's not that. It's just – no one has ever stayed the night before.” He tries to laugh again but it turns into a sob.

“Do you want me to leave?”

“No!” He answers far too quickly. But he doesn't care. “It – it's just nice to feel – it's just nice to have someone stay.”

Aether shushes him and eventually their breathing evens out. Copia's eyes flutter as he tries to stay awake. Ultimately sleep wins over. It's here when he's wrapped in Aether's strong arms that for once in his life Copia feels safe.

He feels loved.

#the band ghost #skywarpie writes #okay to reblog i guess #i just KNOW mobile is gonna fuck this up #anyway #ghost band #ghost bc #cardinal copia #papa emeritus iv #aether #nsft

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starillusion13 · 2 months

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FRIENDS!? Chapter 15

🔳🔳🔳🔳🔳🔳🔳🔳🔳🔳🔳🔳🔳🔳🔳🔳

Series ML

Pairing: poly!ateez × f!reader (An ATEEZ Office AU)

Genre: Mature, Angst, Yandere

Warning: mention of memories (nothing much just go with the flow), mention of hostage and crying, fear and nightmares.

W.C: 3.4k Network: @k-vanity

[Reblogs and Reviews are always appreciated. Thank you for reading and have a nice day ahead. Please always take care of yourself everyone.]

Hello, Can we be friends please?

"you are crazy!" you yelled at Mingi.

"yeah, of course that crazy you is you." He yelled and raised an accusing finger at you.

The others were chuckling at your silly behavior. They were watching your existence freely as if they won the trophy for their game. You are happy and comfortably joking around with them. Some started to wonder if this is the last day seeing you so happy and lively around them.

This thought is ridiculous.

Hongjoong took a sip of his soda and watched you and Mingi fooling around on the terrace. A little smile appears on his face that you were happy as their friend --- their lover. You are not a hostage and crying but you are happy.

What happened to you in the last year of your high school?

No matter how curious they are, they didn't ask about that since they know it's better to know when all the past will be laid before their eyes once again. They should not deny that they don't get reminded of it every day.

When you are smiling at them with hope and purity in your eyes, they are smiling to hide the wild and danger behind their eyes.

Yunho was smiling at you both while leaning against the railing. He was busy memorizing your habits and he couldn't help but...fall deeper. His eyes followed your small movements, your every action and change in expression while interacting with each one of them.

He was comparing it with the past you. Still the same. As if he was knowing you all over again. And he swore this time, he wont mess it up again. He loves your everything but like everyone else...his heart aches to see you cry. It shouldn't happen.

"you know you are staring at her very obviously." Seonghwa placed himself beside Hongjoong and chuckled in your direction with admiration in his eyes.

"is there a problem? Jealous?" Hongjoong asked and rolled his eyes before watching Wooyoung engulfed you in a back hug and lifted you up from your feet to spin you around.

Seonghwa laughed lightly, "no one can be jealous more than you. Also, I am loving the days with her."

Hongjoong licked his lip, "everything is so nice. She is happy with us and trusts us. I want this to stay like this forever."

"and what if everything goes up and down?" the third voice appeared from behind. San had a cold stare at them. He stepped forward, "how will you explain yourself to her? She won't forgive the selfishness."

"San...why do you think so?" Seonghwa eyed the younger boy and noticed his tiredness. "didn't you sleep last night?"

San glanced at him and shook his head. How could he? He was thinking a lot these days. The thoughts running inside his head were different from each other but all surrounding one main subject.

It's you.

He can't let you out of his mind and it's frustrating him more every day.

"why didn't you sleep?" Seonghwa asked for the third time but when he turned his gaze towards San then he noticed. The latter was staring at you not coldly or with anger but he was having a soft smile on his face. But one more thing to notice, there was sadness in his eyes. The eldest didn't question him further. He understood the situation and got his own answer to it.

He watched you again --- he loves you and he will prove it to you.

"Jongho, do we have any plan-"

"are you guys always this boring? Come on. Let's play." Your voice caught the rest of their attention. The ones who were sitting and talking among themselves and admiring you.

Hongjoong tilted his head, "does this building look like a playground to you?"

They all were looking at you as if you had done something wrong but he pulled on you on his lap, earning a yelp from you and he hugged you tighter while laughing at your confused face.

"don't you guys get bored with always talking about work related stuff and meetings?" You shake your head when you remember the paper works you have the next day. Why don't the holidays last long?

Hongjoong kissed your cheek, your breath hitched at his sudden action. You looked down at your lap, avoiding other's gaze. Your cheeks heated up and you shifted in your place. You bit your lips when he placed his palm over your thigh.

"what do you want to do now?" he asked you in a whisper.

The boys eyed you in surprise. You were not avoiding him and feeling scared but relaxing and feeling comfortable on his lap. That was an unbelievable sight for them.

But the situation made them remember something clearly.

"what should we do today?" You announced, standing in the middle of the space inside the warehouse.

Yeosang gave you a glass of water, "drink it. you have a lot to say every time so soak your throat."

You glared at him but obeyed him soon after.

"So, as I was saying- whoa wait." Hongjoong pulled your hand to make you sit on his lap. He hugged you and laughed with others, "you say a lot. But yeah, let's go to the amusement park today. I hope the man won't make a scene. He will allow you right?"

You nodded and others sighed in relief. You smiled widely, "of course. He will. Afterall, I trust you all and I can manage if he says something that I'm not safe out there and all. Don't worry. He just cares for me a lot."

San scoffed in the corner. You casted a glance at him but ignored his unusual behavior.

Hongjoong turned your face by your chin, placing a kiss on your cheek, "you don't have to stay there longer. We will come get you out of there and stay together."

And you trusted his words.

So you are trusting him like that again.

You clasped your hand and shifted on his lap, "I want all of us to enjoy. You all are always busy and tired but let's be free and hangout like some teenagers."

"but we aren't teenagers." Mingi said.

You rolled your eyes, "even if we aren't, we can be just to let loose."

Mingi nodded and placed a fry inside his mouth when Jongho spoke up, "we are hanging out. We love to see you having fun."

"I want all of us to have fun together."

Wooyoung excitedly comes in front of the group sitting, "look, y/n. the flower has bloomed today. Just pretty like you."

You saw him holding the small pot in his hand just to show you the flower.

"you could have asked me to come with you. Why bring the pot here?"

Hongjoong rubbed your arms, "don't you feel tired after running around the whole day with Mingi and Jongho? It's better not to walk you around anymore."

"atleast I know how to keep my body fit unlike you all turning old before the age."

He grabbed your jaw and stared at you, "do I look old?"

You gulped, not meeting his gaze. "look at me." your eyes returned to his face, this godly visual is insane. "how do I look?"

Licking your lips and overwhelmed with all the attention, you hid your face behind your palm and whined loudly, "okay, you all look handsome. Now shut up, please."

They all laughed loudly at you and Hongjoong ruffle your hair.

>>>><<<<

"where is y/n?" Yeosang asked loudly when he opened the cabin door of the meeting room. There were already some managers, Hongjoong and Seonghwa were discussing some topics with Mingi and San beside them, keenly listening to them. His sudden appearance visibly disturbed the serious atmosphere.

San spoke up before anyone else could, "of course, in her room. Sleeping late again."

"she is not there and neither in her cabin."

Now that catches all four of their attention.

Did you run away?

No, why will you? You are enjoying it here and there's no reason for you to do that.

Did you remember everything?

"Have you asked others?" Mingi asked in worry.

Yeosang nodded, "but Yunho and Wooyoung have not been here since morning. Jongho hasn't seen her because he was busy." His words made their minds restless and even if they wanted to go out and search for you, the meeting was important as well.

"Have you checked the C.C.T.V.? I guess it will help us in some ways." Hongjoong proposed the idea and noticed the change in expression on the younger boy. The latter nodded before leaving the cabin and went towards his own to access the data of all the cameras.

Even though the meeting lasted for thirty more meetings, their minds were off to many places but that meeting. As if they felt it was going on for an eternity. Soon after the dismissal of the meeting, they almost ran towards your room and then to Yeosang's cabin. Unfortunately, you were not in sight.

"did you find anything?" Seonghwa asked as soon as he stepped inside the younger's cabin. There were two screens with all the clips from the camera displaying in front of their eyes.

"she hasn't left her room since morning. I saw Yunho entering her room before leaving for the day and he immediately came out and then looked around. I think he was trying to catch sight of her because she was not inside." He brushed his hairs in frustration.

Mingi bit his lips and urged him to move aside, "let me quickly check something."

"Hongjoong, we have one more schedule later in a while. We have to go there. And Mingi, you need to be present there as this deal would be concerning your opinions." Seonghwa's voice earned nods from them but their eyes were focused on what Mingi was typing.

"what are you doing on my computer?" Mingi ignored Yeosang's glare and protests.

The screen suddenly showed your figure leaving the room late at night.

"there she is..." Mingi whispered and curiously watched your actions. He played the footages of yesterday night from a particular time after the late return of the members.

You were weakly standing at the doorway of your room and looked to your side, towards the main door of the area. Suddenly, you sat on the floor, holding your head and waited there for a few minutes and again stood up and walked towards Seonghwa's room. Staring at the door, you raised your hand but didn't knock and stepped away and approached Yunho's room and again you did the same thing.

What were you doing?

"is she sleep walking?" Hongjoong asked curiously.

Yeosang shook his head, "it doesn't seem so."

Then they noticed you going towards the terrace and sat on the couch while hugging your knees close to the chest and resting your head on top of it. they forwarded the clip until you stood up and walked towards the elevator. Waiting there for a few minutes, you pressed the button and soon after the door slid open for you and you entered. They waited for you to arrive in front of all the cameras in front of the elevator of floors but none of them showed.

"Don't tell me, she disappeared into thin air inside the elevator." Mingi scoffed at the screen with his own ridiculous thoughts.

"we will be late for the meeting, Hongjoong." Seonghwa checked his wrist watch and tapped his boot against the marbled floor, getting anxious without getting sight of you.

"you should go to the meeting. I think I know which place we are missing." The one who was silent all these times finally spoke up. Everyone turned towards San who was poking his cheek with his tongue while staring at the screen. When he met their gaze, he rolled his eyes, stepping back, "don't forget we don't have any camera for the top floor and rooftop so she must be there and you all should know the reason for her being there."

He stepped towards the door in a hurry.

"where are you going?" Yeosang suddenly asked and the latter halted in his steps, his hand hovering over the handle of the door. He gulped and stared at the floor, fighting his own will and thoughts. Earlier, he was determined with his own decision but after the question, he was hesitating with something.

"you all are busy......I am going to find her there."

He didn't wait for a second longer to hear any of them speak anything more. All of them stared at the door from where he left but Hongjoong smirked at a sudden thought.

Don't deny the feelings, San.

You want to compensate for what you have done.

Now, what exactly happened to you?

Last night you were sleeping, you woke up feeling extra sweaty and the nightmares didn't help your condition. You were feeling tired and exhausted after waking up and the dark surrounding made you feel suffocated. Rolling over to your either side, not long after you stood up from the bed and decided to leave the room.

First, you wanted to share it with Seonghwa because he is always there to listen to you if you are disturbed or scared of something. But you didn't want to disturb him, knowing he has a meeting early in the morning and Hongjoong will also be there so you left them aside. You didn't want to go to Jongho and Mingi's room because they were already busy the whole day and got off work late at night and then there's Wooyoung and Yeosang who were discussing about the meeting for the next day because Yeosang had to prepare a presentation so the only option left to you was Yunho even when you had to pass by San's room.

Not in a sane mind, you are going to knock at his door.

But when you stood in front of Yunho's door, a sudden place came to your mind where it would be alright and you can relax and clean your mind of unwanted thoughts at the moment.

The lounge area.

Pulling your body with heavy and slow steps, you arrived in front of the elevator. You can't go out in the streets without their permission because last time, you went out. Hongjoong scolded you for an hour in his room and Seonghwa added the possible danger out there. They just think that you can't take care of yourself alone.

You pressed the top floor button and waited for your floor to arrive.

As you arrived there, you looked around the silent place, illuminated by the fancy lights all around and the shiny floors reflecting it with the luxury furniture and items in every corner.

The four guards of the place asked you about you having any problem or not but you just assured them of nothing. Certainly, they won't deny your access to the place because you are their bosses' special girl. They believe you are something to them but none of them would dare to ask this to anyone. So, they kept their assumptions to themselves.

Approaching the terrace, you crouched in the middle of the couch and hugged your body and not caring about anything, you fell asleep in that position slowly.

"has she left this floor?" San sternly asked the guards and they shook their heads, confirming about your presence still somewhere there.

Without speaking anything further, he straightway went to the couch and there you were still sleeping, lying on the couch in an uncomfortable position. Staring at you for a while, his slow steps made him approach you.

"y/n. get up."

You gave him no reply. Your face was hidden with your arms and hair and he could see your top and shorts rolled up, revealing skin more than it should. He extended his hand to shake your body when you mumbled something. Hesitatingly, he crouched down beside your head and leaned down to listen to you.

"what are you saying?"

Again you mumbled distortedly, but this time he made a few words, "don't want to go down...sleep...please...feel tired."

He licked his lips, not knowing what to do at the current situation but he removed your hair from your face and adjusted your clothes. Then only he noticed, the tear stained face and exhausted look on your face. His hand involuntarily moved up to your face to feel your pain against his fingertips. You were crying last night and your body is heated. You are having a fever. His cold fingers touched your warm forehead and neck and he confirmed that you were sick.

This is not you, San. You should never be like this.

San, You know and you realize that you have seen her cry in front of you a lot but you don't care about it.

He caressed your head and cheek, his cold touch against your heated skin was magic to you. You hummed and leaned to his touch.

"lets get you to your room." He whispered and you shook your head sleepily before burying your face into his hand.

He was definite that you were not expecting him talking to you but someone else but he didn't want to scare you when you were sick. He pulled his hand, noticing your whines and stood up straight. Placing a hand below your knees and another below your neck, he pulled you up from the couch and adjusted you in his arms. Leaning your head against his shoulder blades, he softly kissed your head.

"you don't have to go to work today."

You clutched his black t-shirt in your fist, your hot breaths made his steps quick. Your burning body in his hand makes him realize you need medication quickly.

He was carrying you in his arms and mentally he was battling to call Yunho or Wooyoung or anyone else to help you in this condition but he didn't. arriving at their floor, he straightway went towards your room and informed no one. But he noticed a figure standing in front of the door of your room.

"Yeosang..."

"I'm going out right now." He glanced at your sleeping figure in his hand, "I'm glad she is comfortable with you."

"she doesn't know it's me." San smirked but the latter just kept staring at you.

"take care of her." And Yeosang left him there standing in confusion. Did he want to say something?

He stepped inside your room. Placing you on the bed, he went to the drawers to search for the medicines when a certain showpiece fell from the table by his elbow. He cursed and watched you groaning at the sound and waking up.

He put the fallen item back to its place and went towards you with the medicine.

"come on, y/n. take this and then freshen up." He extended a water bottle from the nightstand.

Your eyelids parted slowly and you blinked a few times, "San..."

"it's me. take this and then speak."

He helped you to sit up when he noticed your weakness. Your head was spinning and didn't want to move your body much. Gulping down the medicine, you stared at him.

"what's the time?"

"it's noon already. You don't have to go to work."

"um..San...I was on the top floor...when did I come here? How?"

He looked away before replying, "I brought you here. You don't have to work today, I'll order someone to bring your food to your room. Take rest...I know past these days the work pressure was too much for you."

You didn't reply but was shocked that he was speaking to you. He was standing in person in front of you and his aura is not that scary like always but welcoming and relaxing.

"is anyone free right now?"

He shook his head, "none except me."

"so, can you stay here with me? I—I don't want to be alone. i...it's like..." you were trying hard to make a reasonable sentence but you were failing miserably when he suddenly spoke up making you shut in surprise. You were totally not expecting that.

"I'll stay with you."

San...you are doing wrong again. You have already done wrong once but this is also not right.

You hate her.

"I'll be quick with the shower." He held your hand when you stood up and as you closed the door of the bathroom, he kept staring at it and sat on the bed, leaning against the headboard.

"what's wrong with you, San? She is a lonely and good girl. Then why?"

She was always an innocent little girl...a pretty one. Still you all played with her innocence.

The images from past flashes in front of his eyes. He gripped the bedsheet tightly and his clenched jaw with anger in himself was visible.

He was lost in thought when your voice bloomed again, "thanks...I thought you left..it was so silent out here."

At first he thought he was imagining your sweet voice in his memories but it was you standing in front of him. smiling and thanking him for being there for her. You were relaxing around him and you were comfortably brushing your hair, not crying and scared.

"Come here, y/n."

You blinked at his extended hand and stepped slowly towards him. He pulled you on his lap, adjusting you and comfortably placing you between his legs, "are you scared of me?"

You licked your lips and slowly nodded.

"please don't be. I am just like them." Yeah, I did wrong like them. But the most. "we are friends too." He placed your head against his chest and surprisingly, you were relaxing, "it's hard for me to watch you treat others differently and feel scared of me."

Please don't make it hard for me, y/n.

"If you treat me like this, I won't feel scared of you."

He nodded on top of you, "give me a chance to prove myself, y/n. I promise you. I won't disappoint you."

"why you sound like you are regretting something?"

"coz I am...I mean please...stay like this...with me...I want to make you smile." He planted a kiss on the crown of your head, "I want to see your smile."

Your breath was heaving with each word and every action, but your eyes were also closing slowly. His words and voice were so soothing and comforting.

"I'm sorry, y/n."

He looked down at you but you were already asleep.

Will you forgive me after knowing everything?

—————————————————————————

Taglist :

@mymoodwriting @justhere4kpop @vvshere @anyamaris @yeoobin @wooyoungmybelovedhusband @brrrkdslek-personal @icchyi @jwnghyuns @piratequeen-queenofgames @luhwaine @ilove-taeyong @dinonuguaegi @endeav0rsb1tch @loveforred @hwanring @sanwifesstuff @kiwiisnthereoops @kiwiraccoon @sousydive @aliona124754 @tunaasan @iykyunho

(open! dm me/ send ask/reply here)

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kawaiixchaotic · 10 months

Text

billie eilish has been dropping hints about her sapphic attraction for years but felt pressured out of the closet on the red carpet today, bc it's all the interviewers kept fixating on. yes she said she is physically attracted to women in an interview recently but ppl keep pushing for details that we are not entitled to. and everyone's so happy about it too, which is funny to me. y'all switch up quick. remember when y'all accused her of "queerbaiting" over a music video and an instagram caption? bc i do. the only reasoning you all had was that she had only ever (publicly) been with boys. as if one cannot like both boys and girls. as if one has to use dating history to earn queer credit if they are attracted to multiple genders. that, and her saying she was "straight as a ruler" one time when she was 15 or smthn, which, let's get real. we've all said that. i said that. and now I'm a lesbian.

a similar situation happened with kit connor from heartstopper. he held hands with a girl and you all went fucking ballistic. to me his case was worse bc he got practically kicked and shoved out of the closet. he didn't get to come out on his own terms. i hope you guys aren't still expecting anything from that poor kid, bc he doesn't owe any of you bullies anything, and i wouldn't blame him if thoughts about the heartstopper fandom leave a bad taste in his mouth to this day.

so why am i bringing all this up? bc there's something particular about the online LGBTQ+ community that has been bothering me for years now: Check your biphobia. Because clearly it is affecting your worldview a whole lot more than you think, no matter how young you are, or how progressive you think you are.

Any public figure who even alludes to liking multiple genders, you put under a microscope. you wait for them to "prove it" to you. any action they take that doesn't feel queer enough to you, you pounce. they are (i feel, deliberately) misinterpreted and ostracized, and what hurts most is, we are supposed to be there for anyone who is questioning their sexuality as a safe space, to help them figure themselves out, answer their questions. and yet somehow we've become their biggest opps. what hurts more is the fact that it's mostly very young people doing this! I don't know if you're all just looking for things to be mad at or what. But I could honestly rant about this for all of eternity so let me end it with this:

TLDR; by taking the stance that public figures have to show and prove their queerness, you are furthering biphobic stererotypes, and by drawing the ridiculous conclusion that an individual is "queerbaiting," (which is a corporate marketing tactic, ffs) you are freezing them in time and being unreasonable about the amount of growth and self-discovery we do as human beings. grace should not only be afforded to those who are "out," and only validating queerness if someone announces it is unfair and ignores the many circumstances that could prevent someone from coming out, like risking danger at home, legal persecution, or simply a want for privacy. STOP BEING SUCH INSUFFERABLE LITTLE ASSHOLES.

Thank you for coming to my TEDTalk.

#lgbtq #lesbian #sapphic #queer discussions #queer discourse #bi solidarity #biphobia #real people can't queerbait #queerbaiting #rant post #billie eilish #kit connor #heartstopper #bisexuality

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yourlocaldisneyvillain · 1 year

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Hi😊 i hope you're having a nice day!

Could i request a Larissa/21-22 Student reader(young teacher if you're not comfortable writing it with a student)fic with prompts 1 and 50 please? (Smut)

R have a big crush on Larissa. One night, she was walking past Larissa's room when she heard moans, she couln'd believe what she was hearing, she stopped and decided to take a peace of paper and write #50 on it with a 💋 with her lipstic (yea she's dumb like that), not writing her name and slip it under Larissa's door and ran back to her dorm. Larissa had no idea who could've wrote that and she was very embarassed that someone heard her..yk... The next day when Larissa walked past R in the hallway, she thought she saw a weird look in R's face and then she saw the lipstic, that lipstic, and it just clicked in her head. She always thought R was a bit of a tease with her but she never thought anything about it, but now.. Larissa decided to go to R's dorm, not knowing what she would do when she'll reach it. And what she heard throught that door, she thought that maybe she could pay R back for what R has done to her.😉 She openned the door slowly so R won't hear her and closed the door behind her, then she wispered #1. And then it would end up full of smuth, you can add as many kink as you want, even toys if you like, please?😊 (was this request too specific? I hope not😕)

Thank you if you decide to write it, i really love your fics and i really wanted to ask one too! And thank you even if you don't, for reading this!💋

A way too shy anon😅

i took some liberties with your request, i hope you don't mind! i made reader a 27yo phd student and it's a non-magical au! also..... i know i was probably expected to write a short, smutty thing, but before i knew it had a plot and it was 4000+ words whoopsie please don't hesitate to leave a comment on ao3, it makes my heart sing! <3

without further ado, enjoy some larissa x reader smut :) tags: car sex, mommy kink and idk how to tag adkjfshgd

You walk through the dark, empty corridor that leads to Professor Weems’ office. Most people have retired for the evening — it’s late, way too late for an official meeting, but given that lately you’ve been getting rather friendly, you hope she will excuse the informality. You know you will probably find her there, as she often works long into the night — and you really need her help with this chapter. The deadline for your PhD is rapidly approaching and you are still nowhere near done.

She truly is a great mentor — always happy to meet with you and answer any questions you have, ready to spend hours going through your work and analysing materials you brought her. You somehow always end up spending a lot of time together — more often than not ending up in deep and heated discussions about various subjects (that sometimes relate to your work, and sometimes don’t) after you’ve finished discussing your thesis. You feel like you could talk to her the entire day without getting tired — she is remarkably intelligent, knowledgable on many subjects — her taste in art exquisite, and her takes are often unique. She always leaves you with several book recommendations (“Read this, darling, I am very curious what you will think about it,” she usually says and writes down a title or two, “read it when you find the time for it, of course — you have a thesis to write,” she winks — you somehow always find the time, sometimes sacrificing those few precious hours of sleep).

Larissa Weems is also very, very attractive. She is an unusual looking woman — very tall, imposing, with platinum blonde hair and a peculiar fashion sense — she dresses like a movie star from the 1940s — but she is ridiculously charismatic, expressive, charming. Her laugh is contagious, her eyes bright and sparkling — you can’t be blamed for being absolutely enamoured with her.

You thought about asking her out once you get your PhD— age difference be damned. You are a 27 year old woman — you are free to do as you please. It’s just that, well — she is your mentor, at least for now, and even if she wasn’t, she is just way out of your league. You don’t even know if she likes women, (probably not, knowing your luck) — and if she does, there is no way she would like you (even if you did have a very interesting discussion about sapphic undertones in The Marriage of Figaro — that scene between Susanna, Countess Rosina and Cherubino is rather… sexually charged — she seemed to share your opinion).

Lately, you feel your relationship has reached a deeper level — your meetings would almost always end in a nearby bar, where you’d relax with a glass of wine and continue your conversation late into the evening. Last time, she got slightly tipsy and became rather touchy-feely (she seems to be one of those people who are get very affectionate when drunk)— putting a hand on your shoulder, brushing against your leg under the table (then immediately apologising and pulling away), and when you got back to campus, she hugged you before parting ways. You can still recall very vividly how warm and soft she was and how she smelled faintly of sweet perfume and red wine. Since then you can’t stop imagining her touch — in very inappropriate ways. You try your hardest not to get too invested, though — she is your mentor, first and foremost.

For all those reasons, you conclude she won’t be terribly upset at you if you barge into her office at this late hour. Worst case scenario, she tells you she’s too busy right now.

You are just about to knock on her office door when something stops you dead in your tracks — a sound.

A moan.

You stand in front of the door. You hear nothing for a couple of seconds and almost knock again, certain you’ve imagined it (because why would anyone be moaning here at this hour?), but then you hear it once more.

It’s coming from her office. Is she with someone (your heart sinks at the thought, and you immediately scoff at yourself — as if you ever had a chance)?

You know the appropriate thing would be to leave immediately, but something keeps you there, standing in front of the door, listening.

The moans continue, and there is no doubt about it — that is her moaning, and there is no one else with her. It’s very clear what she is doing.

You should leave, but you stand there, frozen, listening. You don’t really want to go.

Her moans sound heavenly — they send delicious jolts straight to your core. You can’t help but wish you were the one making her moan.

Later, when you get back to your room, you don’t know what possessed you to do what you did. Might have been sleep deprivation, caffeine overdose, or lack of proper meals from days of working on your thesis non-stop, might be that she is the most attractive woman you have ever had the pleasure of knowing and her moans were just too much for your tired brain to handle — but you take a piece of paper out of your notebook and write a very inappropriate thing on it.

I thought your laugh was the prettiest sound in the world. I was wrong — it's your moans.

You stare at the note for a couple of seconds. The moans coming from her office are getting louder — she must be getting close to…

…your brain short-circuits at the thought.

Without thinking, you place a kiss on the piece of paper, leaving a coral-coloured lip-print on it.

Inside her office, Professor Weems keens.

You slip the paper underneath her door and run back to your room.

You continue working through the night, falling asleep on your desk around 5am. You wake up at 8, and by then the whole episode feels like it might have been a fever dream.

You still need her help with the chapter, however, so you send her en email asking if she could squeeze you into her schedule today. You get an answer almost immediately.

I am terribly busy today, but I could see you during lunch break. We could eat out together and go over the chapter, if you’d like. Please send it to me beforehand so I can read through it and make notes! :-)

Sent from my iPhone

(You find her boomer smileys very endearing.)

You try your best not to think about last night’s events. You are lucky she can’t recognise your handwriting, given that you always write everything on your laptop.

You steal an hour of sleep, take a shower and put on some lipstick and mascara before leaving to meet her at cafeteria for lunch. If you’re lucky, you will succeed at pretending last night never happened.

You are not lucky.

You can’t stop staring at her mouth as she talks, as she chews her lunch, imagining all types of lewd sounds coming from it. It’s downright erotic, the way her lips move — no one should look that sexy chewing food.

“Darling? Are you with me?” she asks, making you snap out of your inappropriate daydream.

“Hm? Yeah, I’m sorry, I’m just a bit spacey today,” you answer, embarrassed, wondering if she caught onto your staring.

“How many hours of sleep have you gotten in the last couple of days, darling?”

“Uhm… in the last three days, I think I got about ten hours combined.”

“You really should take better care of yourself.”

“I know, but there’s just so much work to be done,” you sigh. “Is it supposed to be this hard to get your PhD?”

Professor Weems chuckles (the loveliest sound). “I’m sorry to inform you that it is — at least if you want to do it properly.”

“How was it for you? When you were getting your PhD, I mean? It’s hard for me to imagine you going around disheveled and sleep deprived. You always look so put together.”

“Ah, darling, it’s one of the perks of reaching a certain age — you can finally afford some of life’s little luxuries, such as sleeping six to eight hours a nigh. However, I absolutely did go around disheveled and sleep deprived. I was living off of caffeine and salted crackers — I was a rather pitiful sight. I’m glad I did it, but I’d never go back.”

“So you’re telling me life is easy in your forties?” you tease.

“I said easier, not easy. I do still get terribly stressed about things. I was rather stressed yesterday, as a matter of fact. I have so many things to do today, and I will be working late again.”

“And what do you do to relieve the stress?” you ask before you can stop yourself. You know very well what she did yesterday to relieve the stress.

“Oh, this and that. Usually I watch something that takes my mind off work.”

(“Porn?” you think.)

“I think we should get going though, darling — lunch break is almost over. Let me just fix my makeup,” she says and pulls her signature red lipstick and a compact mirror out of her bag. She fixes the edges of her lipstick expertly.

“Do you need to fix your lipstick, darling?” she asks, handling you the mirror.

“Oh, I might, actually. Thanks.”

Only when you’re done fixing your makeup and you hand the mirror back to her do you realise she has just watched you put on the same lipstick you used to leave a lip-print on that wildly inappropriate note you slipped under her door.

You look at her, your stomach twisting with anxiety, searching for any sign of recognition on her face.

Her face is unreadable, but you wonder if she holds eye contact with you a little longer and a little more intensely than usual. You might just be imagining things, though — you are terribly sleep deprived.

“Thank you, darling,” she says, giving you a bright smile. “Shall we?”

The cafeteria door is a bit narrow, so you step back to let her pass first, but she puts a hand on your waist and gently pushes you past her. Your shoulder brushes against her as you do so. Being this close to her makes your heart beat faster and your limbs turn to jelly.

You look up at her (she is so tall). She’s smiling at you. It’s a bright, toothy smile that makes your insides melt and your brain become mush.

“I will be working late tonight, so if you need any help you know where to find me.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t wanna bother you.”

“I can spare an hour for my favourite PhD student.”

“Your only PhD student.”

“You should just accept the compliment, darling.” She squeezes your shoulder and winks. “Good luck with your research. Try to squeeze in an afternoon nap. Ta-ta!”

She turns around and walks in the direction of her office, leaving you standing in front of the cafeteria like an idiot. As she walks away, you stare at way her hips move in the tight skirt pencil skirt she’s wearing. After a couple of seconds, you realise your mouth is open, so you quickly close it before anyone notices you are behaving like a horny teenager.

You slowly drag yourself to your room. As you sit down and start going through the notes she gave you during lunch, your thoughts keep drifting to her ass in that pencil skirt. You sigh.

This is going to be a long day.

By the time evening comes, you are nowhere near finished with the chapter that was giving you grief yesterday. You know what needs to be done and you have finally found the right source to support your argument, but you have a hard time concentrating, and that makes you work in an excruciatingly slow manner. Your thoughts are scattered and you keep thinking about the deadline that looms over your head. Stress and sleep deprivation are truly starting getting to you (it also doesn’t help that your thoughts keeps drifting to Professor Weems and her tight pencil skirt). You wonder if you should take a quick power nap, but you are so caffeinated and anxious you doubt you could sleep if you tried, despite being exhausted, so you continue to push through.

It’s around 9pm that you hear a knock on your door. Before you can react in any way, the door opens and Professor Weems is standing in your room.

“I hope I’m not bothering you, darling. I just wanted to check how you’re doing before I retire for the evening.”

“Not so well, I’m afraid. I am nowhere near done with this chapter. I know what I need to do, it’s just that it’s going so painfully slowly.” You bury your head into your hands and let out a frustrated sigh. “I’m sorry I’m being so whiny about this. I am just so stressed.”

Professor Weems approaches your desk and sits on it. Her thigh is just next to your head. You look up at her.

“Darling, you are working yourself too hard. I would tell you if I thought you are terribly behind with your research, but I honestly think you’ll make it. Don’t forget, I have to sign my name on your work — I would never lie to you about your progress to make you feel better — so trust me when I say you should let this go for tonight and come back to it when you’re less sleep-deprived.”

“But—”

“No buts. Come on, I am taking you out for a glass of wine. You should relax. It’s painful to watch you like this.”

You would never decline a glass of wine with Professor Weems, so before you know it you are sitting in that bar near campus having a glass of red wine (that turns into two and then into three glasses). The alcohol is getting to you, since you haven’t eaten that much today — you feel warm and fuzzy and slightly drunk.

Professor Weems seems to be getting tipsy as well, because she is getting very touchy with you again. She laughs at your stupid jokes (her laughter is one of your favourite things about her — loud and unabashed and melodious) and touches your shoulder often, sometimes letting her hand linger way longer than necessary. At some point in the evening her leg touches your own underneath the table.

She doesn’t move it, nor does she apologise.

“You were right, Professor Weems, I did need this,” you say. “I’ve been feeling really out of it for the last couple of days.”

“Oh, I told you already, call me Larissa, darling. Professor Weems is so formal.”

“Are you big on formalities, Larissa?” you ask. You decide to try and push your luck — your confidence is not that high, but you are not an idiot. You are pretty certain she is flirting with you, unless you are completely delusional because of sleep deprivation.

“Usually yes, but as you’ve probably already concluded by my taste in literature, I do think life would be terribly boring without letting the irrational, passionate streak in us win sometimes. As is the case in many literary classics — the plot simply couldn’t move forward without one of the characters disregarding propriety and doing something reckless and passionate.”

“I agree. I often wish I had the courage to do something like that in real life — my life would be so much more interesting.”

“Don’t sell yourself short, darling. I do think you have what it takes.” She gives you a big, bright smile. “Oh, wait a second, darling, your lipstick is smudged. Here, let me.”

She leans forward and takes your chin in her hand, then brushes along the corner of your lip with her thumb. Her touch sends a shiver down your spine and makes your entire body hot with desire.

“That’s a lovely colour, darling. Coral suits you very well.”

She knows. She must know.

She leans back into her seat. You decide to be bold.

“You know, I am still feeling a little bit tense. You said you like to watch something to relax — but I prefer more physical ways of relaxation. Do you have anything to recommend in that area?”

“Do give me an example, darling, what do you do to relax that’s physical?”

“Oh, I’m afraid what I do wouldn’t be appropriate to engage in at my workplace.”

There is a definite red tinge to Larissa’s cheeks.

“What’s life without a little excitement?”

“Very boring, I suppose.”

For a couple of seconds, there is silence. You are looking at each other, both of your cheeks slightly flushed from the alcohol. The tension in the air is thick and heavy.

The next thing she says takes you by surprise. You didn’t expect her to be that forward.

“Tell me, darling, did it turn you on when you heard me yesterday?”

“I—” you open and close your mouth like a fish. You can’t believe the words that just came out of her mouth — to hear her say something like that is something straight out of a wet dream, something that would only happen in your wildest fantasies.

“I usually do it to relax — it’s a purely physical thing, but lately I have found myself thinking about you,” she continues. “Tell me, do you think of mewhen you touch yourself?”

You look her straight in the eye. “Yes, I do.”

You look at each other for a moment. Desire lingers in the air. She is first to break the silence.

“Before this escalates any further, I want you to know that the last thing I’d want is to put you in a difficult situation or make you feel like you are obligated to do something. If you don’t want this, just say the word and we shall never mention it again.”

She pauses. She seems nervous — you’ve never seen her nervous before.

“And please know that whatever you decide, it will not affect your thesis in any way. I would hate for you to be under the impression that this is transactional. I am genuinely interested in pursuing something beyond friendship with you, but I am ready to put that aside and prioritise our professional relationship if that is what you want.”

Your heart breaks as you decide to do the right thing.

“Maybe we should wait until I finish my thesis, and then… continue with this,” you say. “As much as I’d like to, it really wouldn’t be professional of us.”

“Of course. That would probably be best.”

She moves her leg under the table so that it’s no longer touching yours —- you can’t help but feel disappointed. There is a moment of awkward silence. She clears her throat. “We should probably go then, not let this escalate any further.”

“Yes,” you agree. “Let’s go.”

The walk to campus is silent and awkward.

“It’s rather late,” you say. “I do hope buses still drive. The night lines are scarce in this part of town.”

“Oh, I can drive you home, if you want,” she says quickly. “I didn’t offer because I wouldn’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

“I mean, if you want to. We will have to spend time a lot of time together until I finish my thesis, we might as well practice not being awkward around each other. Not that I wasn’t awkward before,” you say, attempting to lighten the mood. “You always made me nervous.”

She chuckles and the air seems less heavy. “I didn’t know I was so scary.”

“You’re not,” you say, but you don’t elaborate further (what you want to say is you look like a movie star, you are intelligent and absolutely brilliant and I am nervous because I have a huge crush on you — but that would be inappropriate given the circumstances).

The drive to your apartment is silent. The tension that built in the bar didn’t dissipate into thin air when you decided not to act on it — instead it intensified — it lingers around, hot and heavy, clouding your judgement, making you sweat even though it’s a chilly night.

She parks in a free spot just in front of your apartment building.

“I’m sorry, I acted very unprofessionally,” she starts. “As your mentor, I should have ignored your advances, but instead I flirted with you and encouraged you.”

Her red lips move in the most delicious way as she speaks, and you find yourself staring again. You remember the sound of her moans. It’s difficult to think about anything else.

“I feel terribly ashamed. I promise I will maintain a strictly professional demeanour from now o—”

You pull her into a bruising kiss. She squeaks (you find that adorable).

Pushing you away, she tries to be reasonable. “We shouldn’t,” she says.

“What’s life without a little excitement? What a novel without the protagonist disregarding propriety and pushing the plot forward?”

“I—”

“Please, Larissa, I believe you when you say my thesis won’t be affected. We are both adults. We want this. Tell me, do you want me?”

She looks at you. Desire dances in her eyes.

“Yes.”

That is all you need.

You kiss her again, then climb over to her seat, somehow managing to straddle her lap. She abruptly pushes the car seat backwards to give you more room — you gasp in surprise and she swallows your gasp with a hungry kiss.

The way she kisses you is passionate, ravenous, desperate. You grind against each other, your hands are everywhere, and her skirt is already bunched up around her hips (the sight of her soft, white thighs in garters drives you crazy). It’s hot, it’s dirty, and it’s not something you thought a put together woman like herself would ever be caught dead doing.

“I never imagined you’d enjoy a dirty car fuck, Larissa,” you whisper into her ear as she kisses your neck. She bites it and you gasp.

“And I never imagined you’d be such a naughty slut, grinding your pussy against my thigh, but here we are.”

She makes even something that cheap and filthy sound delicious. It shouldn’t turn you on so much, but it does.

“Say that again,” you breathe out, continuing to grind against her thigh.

“You like it when mommy calls you a dirty slut, hm?”

She grabs your hair with one hand and slides the other one down into your trousers, feeling your drenched underwear.

“Mmm, fuck,” is the only thing you can say.

“So wet and needy for me already, darling?” she coos at you. “Tell me, did you imagine me doing this to you as you touch yourself, hm? Fucking you with my fingers, fast and hard, like a common whore?”

She slides her hand inside your underwear and pushes a finger into you, then, when she feels how wet you are, two. You whimper. She curls them and you cry out. “Say I’m mommy’s little whore. I want to hear it.”

“I— I’m mommy’s little whore, fuck—”

She starts fucking you, fast and hard, and there are no coherent thoughts left in your mind. She is grunting and groaning with you — it make you delirious with desire. You want to make her moan like she did last night.

You somehow manage to pull yourself together enough to bury your own hand between her soft thighs and feel her wetness. She moans as you circle her clit and her fingers lose their rhythm for a second, which allows you to put together a coherent sentence.

“Like that, mommy?” you breathe out. “Did you imagine this when you touched yourself yesterday?”

“Yes,” she whines, “please, don’t stop.”

You have no intention of stopping. You continue to circle her clit even as she starts to fuck you harder. Her moans are obscene and loud and for a second you remember that any passerby could see you, and probably hear you, but you don’t care. If anything, that turns you on even more.

What sends you over the edge is her orgasm. Her body tenses up, her moans become hoarser and strangled, and a combination of swearwords and moans mixed with your name leave her lips as she tips over the edge of ecstasy. It’s the most erotic thing you have ever witnessed. She tries to fuck you through her own orgasm, but she doesn’t manage to keep the relentless, steady pace she had set before. It doesn’t matter — you grind on her hand and cry out as you ride out intense waves of pleasure that make your limbs tingle.

She gently pulls her fingers out of you. You stay still for a while, wrapped around each other, breathing heavily, your faces buried in each other’s necks.

“Fuck, that was hot,” you say after a while.

She nods against your shoulder. “It was.”

“Wanna do that again sometime… mommy?” you pull away, looking at her with a shit-eating grin plastered on your face.

“If you call me that any time we aren’t fucking, I will end you.”

You laugh, and after a second she laughs as well.

She is so pretty when she smiles — you love how those little lines around her eyes become more prominent.

“I should probably go, though. We are in the middle of the street and it’s like, 3am,” you say.

“Yes, you probably should.”

Before you go exit the car, you kiss goodnight. It’s the sweet and soft — it makes your heart flutter.

“Good night, darling,” she whispers as you get out of the car.

“Good night, Larissa,” you whisper as you watch her drive away.

As you brush your teeth, take a quick shower and get cozy in your bed, the only thing you can think about is Larissa. When you fall asleep, you dream of her sweet kisses.

When you wake up in the morning, you feel well-rested for the first time in weeks.

#larissa weems #larissa weems x reader #larissa weems smut #larissa weems x y/n #gwendoline christie #wednesday 2022 #i will produce my own garbage and also consume it

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where-dreamers-go · 3 months

Text

“Study” Thrawn x Fem!Reader

(A/N: Thrawn doesn’t get Valentine’s Day, but…he does get a message from a special someone while he’s away. How soon can the grand admiral have shore leave to visit his beloved?

This was intended for a Valentine’s Day insert reader for like two years ago, I think.

Minors Do Not Interact

Warnings: Thrawn reading a suggestive message from Reader, romance, flirting, slight teasing with words, foreplay with Thrawn’s hands, first time intimate together, protected sex, and aftercare. Use of (Y/N) for your name.

Word Count: 4,114 words)

Thrawn was back to work on his ship, the Chimaera, as routine. Busy even if his presence wasn’t on the command bridge. Alone in his suite, he was finally able to read the message you sent him hours ago. Something he had been looking forward to with curiosity and feelings.

You were more than a friend.

Unlocking the encrypted message, the datapad illuminated with your words.

Thrawn could imagine your smiling face greeting him.

Hello Thrawn. I hope this message reaches you and you’re safe. You work more hours than anyone I know. Yet I know how important your duties are and I am proud to know of someone so loyal.

Your words were happy, if not hidden with a hint of anticipation upon creating a message to be sent through to an Imperial Star Destroyer. Created by hands he had not seen in person for many rotations. Civilian hands.

A slight tension in your words suggested your ongoing and silent brooding of his absence.

So, I was thinking of people and their relationships lately. Those who are together and those who are separated by great distances.

Thrawn rose an eyebrow, intrigued.

I would like you to study for me. A personal project. Small and of great interest to you.

Leaning back, the grand admiral read on. His curiosity for your mind was always high. Not so unreasonably.

Familiar. Incredibly intimate in artistry.

Crimson eyes widened a fraction as your words continued, hinting at intimacy between people. It was not often the Chiss could be surprised.

He was more than thankful for the secure privacy of the message that had went straight to him without passing by any officers. Only he had the ability to decrypt it fully.

If you are willing. I would ask you to help me answer some questions.

What should a person do without their companion when all they can think about is them? Distracted by thoughts of the intelligence in their eyes and the touch of their expert hands, how can a person focus on their work?

What is beauty in a world or galaxy if one can not share it closely with another?

Is there a way to feel it deeply? To express an experience profoundly?

Thrawn held the datapad closer. There was not a second in which he had ignored or belittled your message. He found you had a great deal to tell him, all pertaining to the relationship you two had. He would not shy away from thoughts of beholding the beauty he knew, to know more than he had in previous rendezvous.

There are pretty words describing hands as they caress skin that shivers at the slightest touch from their partner. How is that different than thin fabric against the abdomen? Why would someone lose their breath at the contact or sight of their partner’s gentleness?

How would a hand brushing over the dips in one’s side compare to the lips pressed to one’s cheek?

Is it not a different expression of the same art?

Swallowing, Thrawn could not resist but to picture the questions in his mind; bodies unabashed to express emotions through movement. Your questions and his imaginings were his new study, for you. The both of you.

His duties reached further than the Galactic Empire, but something in him clung to you. He refused to acknowledge it out loud. For your safety. Despite being great distances a part, he could almost feel the warmth of your cheek against his palm. The memory of your lips whispering his name on his neck.

He blinked and read on.

Do partners not make art together if they wish it? Is it to be more cherished as their own piece?

Would it not be better than one person alone?

I have started to think so.

Thrawn wondered if you had tried. An image of you in his mind smiled, hands gently kneading your own skin to later only wish for his hands in place of your own.

Tension had left your questions, flowing together in a story of wonder. Designs to no doubt invoke a sense of pleasure. For him to theorize the possibilities of the relationship. Your romance.

Time and space. Speed and choice. Things Thrawn knew you wished he had more of in his stature. It could allow him more time with you on your quiet homeworld. A domestic setting within his life of duty and discovery.

Oh, what could warmth of another bring? Merely physical comfort from temperatures or more bodily gratification?

His lips parted. Thrawn found knowing and learning to be of utmost importance. All that his eyes could see. In his mind, he could see you.

Your words angled more in musings of delight a pair could have. Each one dipped in it.

You were alone. Thrawn could not be at your side to answer in kind. He could not immediately play-out your questions in life, touch you with intentional care. Not yet.

Each question you had imagined in a world all of your own and you placed him in it. The closest you could have him. Closer than his physical being ever had been.

You wanted him there.

He licked his lips briefly.

Thrawn was over due for time off. Overall, it would increase morale of his crew—giving them a break as well. Time to refresh and be stronger. More efficient in their duties.

Answers to new and current questions would further any reflection on them. Perhaps more theories will be added upon multiple peaks in pleasing conclusions. I will no doubt speak your name repetitively of your successes. Compliments to you.

Pressing his lips together, Thrawn could hear the sound of his own heartbeat. The datapad, held tightly in his grasp, hardly moved as he imagined you satisfied from expressing art together.

He wanted you. Of course he did. You understood his mind and respected his thought processes like no other. You had kissed him like no other being in existence. In turn, you both had a personal relationship he wished to grow and continue. Reading your suggestive message, he knew more than ever that he needed to experience deep intimacy with you in his arms. Away from the day’s list of allegiances and tasks. Proving that he knew you better than anyone in the galaxy with the slightest touch. To be with you because you desired it as much as he did.

Your words threatened to wreck his composure. But he needed to stay strong. Thrawn had to keep his patience and himself in a tolerable state. He wanted to wait for the physical you.

That meant ignoring the uncomfortableness of his trousers.

Steadying his breathing, Thrawn read the end of your message.

I greatly look forward to your assessment. It would immensely help my cognitive and intimate activities.

“You will not have to wait in need of me much longer,” Thrawn promised into the quiet of his suite. “I do enjoy personal projects for study.”

. . .

The week had arrived with every necessary task completed to the highest degree and all willing crew members departed for shore leave. Thrawn, likewise, piloted his more discreet vessel into a familiar planet’s atmosphere.

Dressed in a cloak to conceal appearance and his civilian clothes, Thrawn stood in front of your door. Crimson eyes seemingly brighter upon meeting you.

Stepping aside, you nearly pulled him indoors in your joy of seeing him. Thrawn didn’t falter of course.

Front door closed and privacy full engaged, the pair of you embraced warmly. A very welcome morning surprise.

“Oh, I’ve missed you so much,” you peppered kisses onto the blue cheek of the tall Chiss. “How are you?”

“I am well.” Thrawn stated calmly. “Have you been all right, (Y/N)?”

“All the more now, I think.”

He smirked at your words, linking your thoughts and feelings around his return solidified how much he meant to you. Gently, he placed a kiss to your temple.

“You have been safe?”

“I have,” you promised. “No suspicious characters, no odd placement of technology, nor threatening looks.”

“Good. Very good.”

Leaning back to peer up at your partner, you smiled knowingly. “So,” you started to ask while playing with the hair at the nape of his neck. “Did you get my message?”

“I did.” Thrawn’s hands curved onto your waist. “My apologies for not sending a proper reply.”

“You being here is much better.”

“Indeed.”

“Did you do any studying?”

“One can only study and theorize to an extent without comparing it to reality.” Thrawn stated softly. “I would like to further my research after given permission. You did want to see what I have learned, did you not?”

“True. We can learn together. Find answers to a list of questions. How about a hands-on learning session?”

“That would be more than acceptable.”

“Acceptable?” You teased.

“Forgive me,” he said. “Words may start to fail me the closer we are to being passionately engaged in answers and one another.”

His words sent pleasant warmth through you. Leaning into him, you slowly unclasped his cloak and tossed it to the nearest surface.

“Do you need anything to drink? Or time to freshen up?” You asked, index finger tracing his jawline. “We can catch up. Talk.”

Thrawn rose a single dark eyebrow for a short moment.

“Or you’re entirely perfect and we can talk later . . .” You suppressed a small laugh.

“We were both patient. Prolonging our anticipation would be frivolous.” Thrawn professed. “I am anxious to begin.”

“So . . . You want to go straight to the bedroom?”

“Yes. If I may add, I have been looking forward to experiencing copulation with you.”

You chuckled as heat raised to your neck. “All right, eager and handsome.”

Grabbing one of his hands, you led him into your bedroom. An area of the household where he had spent more than one night resting and searching through his art collection on a datapad. Thin curtains dispersed any light coming into the room. Not too bright in a room designated for rest.

“First things first.” You stated, facing Thrawn. “No shoes in the bedroom.” You half thought he would roll his eyes or chuckle at such a comment, being that he had been there before.

To no one’s surprise, he did neither and removed his boots promptly.

“Are you to direct me to remove each article of clothing?” He smirked.

“No.” You stepped up to the tall Chiss and untucked his shirt. “We should have equal opportunity here. Don’t you think, grand admiral?”

A single blue finger tilted your chin upwards. Thrawn’s expression was soft, not as neutral as he displayed elsewhere in the galaxy.

“Yes. As you said, we have equality here in your home.” Red eyes held your gaze with warmth and certainty. “And I am not your grand admiral.” His thumb ran across your bottom lip. “Here, I am only yours.”

A break in the moment and breaths quieted as your heart swelled. Two hearts missing the other.

You crashed your lips into Thrawn’s in a passionate display of familiarity and desire. A firm push and pull of longing soon accompanied by the tugging of clothing as the two of you undressed each other. Each article of fabric piled onto the floor. Skin exposed to more skin in slow, aroused wonderment.

Thrawn kissed the side of your head. “An imaginative thought does not accurately depict your beauty.” He let his gaze marvel your form. “No matter how much I have memorized what I have been permitted to see.”

Ducking your head briefly, you stepped into his embrace and placed a single kiss to the center of his chest. “I think the same of you.”

“Do you?” His tone was no where near condescending, it instead held an honest curiosity.

“How could I not?”

Your hands began roaming the expanse of his chest as he explored your sides and curves. An all-encompassing discovery. Lips met again, neither battling for an upper-hand, but for expressing more. More love, more knowledge, more contact. All new affection.

Desire filled the room, expanding with each pass of fingertips and shared breaths.

Turning around, you leaned back into Thrawn. You guided his left hand to your breast and he kneaded experimentally without hesitation. Motions more confident within seconds.

“Like that,” you whispered and tilted your head back to kiss his chin.

Thrawn trailed his free hand from your shoulder, down your abdomen, and between your thighs. You sighed as his talented fingers found and rotated around your sensitive bud. Lightening up your arousal and all of your fantasies of the Chiss holding you. Thrawn, your beloved partner, was learning more about you each second with every touch and small sound. Your hands gripped his thighs for much needed support. His touch sending you into blissful contentment as only he could. Soft kisses were given frequently, delicate and between quiet breaths.

You gasped when you felt his member tap your thigh. It wasn’t something that could go unnoticed, not unlike the wet arousal he elicited from you.

“Thrawn,” you whispered contently while he continued to massage your most sensitive areas.

He hummed in response against your throat. Kisses were left as patterns across your shoulder, neck, and ear.

“Oh. Right there.” You murmured and rolled your hips to the rhythm of Thrawn’s hands. An electric pleasure quickly building between your legs.

Lips gently played with your ear. Thrawn’s hot breath fanning over your skin and sending pleasant shivers down your spine.

“You’re—,” you gasped quietly, “incredible.” You twisted your body in delight as you came shortly.

Thrawn lightly nibbled your earlobe as his middle finger slid between your slick folds. There, he eased his finger into your entrance. The pad of his finger felt around your warm walls and pushed further in. He kissed your temple as your fingernails pinched the skin of his bare thighs.

“You like that.” Thrawn noted, slowly starting to pump his finger within you. “Would you like more?”

Breathless, you nodded earnestly.

The tip of his tongue followed the curve of your ear before he whispered, “As per your message, my heart, we can feel the beauty of the galaxy together.”

Supporting yourself against Thrawn, you glanced down as you felt him add another finger into you. You watched as muscles and tendons underneath blue skin flexed in a smooth rhythm.

Again, you felt the pleasure charging through you.

Another small gasp and you came again.

Your soft smile upon the short relief melted away when Thrawn stopped his skilled movements altogether. Before you could question him, he scooped you up and carried you over to the bed. He laid you down gently upon the cool bedsheets, a welcome feeling against your heated face and stomach.

The bed dipped as Thrawn moved about it. Anticipation grew in your belly even more as a kiss was given to the middle of your back. You sighed at the affection before you were flipped over to your back.

You were met with Thrawn’s steady crimson gaze.

Kneeling, he studied you, taking in your features. Every breath, every curve, and twitch would not go unnoticed by the grand admiral. Your Thrawn.

Under his gaze, you felt hot. All his attention was zeroed in on you.

“Why did you turn away while we touched?” Thrawn asked, a familiar seriousness in his eyes.

“Oh.” You had not expected the question. “I thought it’d be easier for you. With your hands and all at that angle. Better for your wrists?”

“My intention was to see your expressions while I touched you.”

“I’m sorry.” You murmured.

“There is no need for apologies. I was in need of an answer and I had not spoken my other intention beforehand.” Thrawn ran his hands across your skin, taking his time on your most delicately sensitive areas. “You are enjoying yourself?”

“Yes. You?” You ran your hands up his forearms and caught a small smile pulling at his lips.

“Thoroughly.”

Aside from eyeing any subtle reactions your body made, he continued fondling you with great interest and satisfaction. Any sound you made spurred him on. A discovery of each other.

“You had mentioned partners making art together. I am here now with you.” He squeezed your hips as his member twitched upwards. “Shall we continue to create our own piece and find pleasing conclusions to your theories?”

“Yes.”

Thrawn was quick to swoop in for a kiss to your lips. There, they did not stay. Eager lips traveled down the length of your body to taste your heated skin in a pattern only he knew. Lower still, blue hands held your waist as he nibbled your thighs.

You squirmed.

He chuckled low in his throat as he sat up on his legs. It wasn’t a sound you heard often, but when you did there was a hope you’d hear it more often. Spreading his legs, he pulled you closer and in turn lifted your lower half atop of his lap. Glowing eyes focused on your dripping arousal.

“I do wonder what sounds will leave your lips when I push into you. It will be quite exciting to learn more about you. Perhaps…I might even learn something more of myself.” His left hand smoothed underneath your bottom. “Intriguing.”

Your hands skimmed down your body to grip onto his hands. “Thrawn.” You breathed out his name, trying to keep your composure.

“Yes?”

“Please.”

“Explain.” He asked, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

Reaching a hand behind you and under a pillow, you grabbed a small packet hidden away. You then tossed it at his chest.

“Oh. Right. Very responsible of you,” Thrawn said as he opened the item.

It was your turn to chuckle, “Distracted were you?”

“You wished me to study with you, my dear,” he pulled on the condom, “I am doing as you requested.”

“Then may I request that we both enjoy ourselves?”

“Yes. We shall…most thoroughly.” Holding your hip with one hand he used his other to direct himself inside your warmth. He exhaled audibly.

Your mouth fell open.

How many nights have you thought of this?

How much have you hoped to have Thrawn relax and have fun with you?

How many planetary rotations had passed with you both desiring for the other?

Your toes curled slightly as your legs dangled from either side of Thrawn.

Soft light in the bedroom highlighted his muscles underneath his blue skin. A glorious moving artwork of tactician genius allowing small huffs escape from his parted lips each time he brought your pelvis to his own. Striking red eyes focused on you and you alone as if every minute movement mattered. To Thrawn, it likely did. You weren’t going to last long if he kept looking at you like that.

In this part of the galaxy, he could count those he was truly loyal to on one hand. Those Thrawn had a personal relationship to was even less.

The activity at hand was more than mere fun or stress relief.

You came again with a sigh.

Thrawn gave a small smile, one you mirrored.

“Another one?” You inquired while lifting your hips higher as he slowed his thrusts.

“No.”

“No?”

Thrawn reached over to the head of the bed and grabbed a pillow before looking to you. “Do you not want to experience something more prolonged and pleasurable?”

Of course he was thinking three steps ahead and making sure it would be more than a simple pleasurable experience. It made you wonder how much thought he put into your reunion before he disembarked his Chimaera.

“You already know my answer.” You said.

“Indeed.”

Thrawn placed a pillow underneath your rear before he lowered himself, embracing and kissing you with all the familiarity of a lover who held a reputation for seeing details most could not. He knew you however, incredibly well. Even with new touch and movements, Thrawn knew you. Ever the attentive one.

You happily grasped onto his well-toned back.

All those years of training, missions, and battles gave your Chiss an impressive physique. It was no wonder he had the bodily awareness in which to find pleasure. An enjoyable task for more than yourself based on Thrawn’s less than subtle expressions.

Lips parted, he rolled his hips at a steady pace. Keen on watching you shift your head this way and that between waves of pleasure.

And you were loving every second.

Moving his right hand between the pair of you, his thumb found your sensitive bud again. There, he applied pressured, circular motions.

Your fingernails pinched onto his skin and you moved your hips faster to chase the increasing pleasure.

Thrawn never missed a beat nor a clear sign. He matched you with speed and heavy lidded eyelids.

“Thrawn, oh! Please—yes.”

Briefly, he kissed your lips before intertwining his left hand with one of yours, his dark red gaze never turned away. He continued his movements and touch in every way that made you start loosing your sense of reality.

“Oh, kriff. Kriff.” You shut your eyes, pleasure tightening in your core.

“Don’t close your eyes,” Thrawn huffed softly, “I want to witness your gratification…while I feel you on the verge of ecstasy and fall into its depths.”

You opened your eyes to see irises of dark red and pupils blown wide. Lips parted, you could only utter a small whine.

“You are close.” He said softly, a smile appearing.

“Thrawn.” You gasped as your breathing became more erratic.

A low growl rumbled through Thrawn’s chest and throat as his thrusts became less coordinated; yet he was ever adamant on his goal. He squeezed your hand while he held eye contact with you.

A feeling akin to pulsing had you tipping closer to the edge of climax. Something Thrawn no doubt noticed with a tinge of pride.

Mask of calm, certainty, and decisiveness crumpled from the Chiss above you as he swallowed and whispered, “I love you.”

“Ahh.” A short, broken cry tore from your throat.

Thrawn held on tightly as your body shook, your mind feeling as if you had jumped to lightspeed and back to realspace in less than a minute.

Easing back onto the mattress, you blinked to clear some of your pleasured haze to watch your lover frown in deep concentration, his blue-black hair falling out of place. At a slightly altered angle, right hand on your hip, Thrawn continued your pleasure as he rapidly chased his own high.

You considered him extremely attractive in such a state of mind.

“Tactician and lover,” you mused.

Dark red eyes flickered up to you and Thrawn buckled over with a grunt. He pushed himself as deep as possible into your warmth, panting through the pleasure.

As beautiful as the sight was, Thrawn eventually had spent all he had and settled into your awaiting arms. Murmuring in his native tongue, Thrawn pressed light kisses across the side of your face.

“I love you too.” You smiled warmly. “Every day, every night, while I’m asleep…”

He kissed your lips. Blue hands cradled your face in a delicate hold.

“I love you so much, Mitth’raw’nuruodo.”

For a moment or two he stared into your eyes. His panting breath mingled with yours as heightened emotions slowly settled behind his glowing gaze. Calming himself while still entangled with you, inside you, was a feat in and of itself.

“Thrawn?”

He blinked and disclosed quietly, “That was incredibly pleasurable.”

“Yeah.” You ran a hand up and down his back affectionately.

“Regretfully, I must remove myself.”

Thrawn smiled at your look of disapproval and rose up on his knees. His throat bobbed as he made no noise while pulling out of you. Again, in that position, he took his time observing you.

You didn’t mind; not as you viewed him in return with a faint glint of perspiration on his blue skin.

“Come with me, my heart.” Thrawn scooped you up gently into his arms and carried you into the refresher.

From there he instructed you to relieve yourself before he took care of the rest. Every touch and motion, Thrawn cleansed your skin with diligent attention. He checked for any discomfort and kissed you contently.

Refreshed by his love, you were settled back into the new and fresh bedsheets. Thrawn missed no detail or time.

“How long will you stay?” You asked quietly from your curled position with your beloved.

“Approximately fifty-two hours, if nothing requires my attention elsewhere.” His fingers made intricate patterns along your back.

“I can imagine a few things,” you smiled mischievously.

“As can I. We have the day ahead of us.”

~~~

Best wishes and happy reading.)

(If you love my writings and want to support me, I have a Ko-Fi where you can buy me a coffee. I would be eternally grateful.

coffee

~~~~~

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multiplicity-positivity · 6 months

Note

Okay so I’m anti endogenic and I want to learn more about Endo systems but I find that most of the Endo blogs I come across support transid people/are in the transid community themselves and I just kind of made me scared cus transid people aren’t good and should heal form trauma they have, but my question was are all Endo systems transid supporters and are Endo systems part of the transid community ( asking cus a lot of Endo blogs said yes to both of those questions )

hey… I’m the designated syscourser and we have been getting a few asks about syscourse in our inbox lately, so here i am.

we have not had that same experience. we know of one big blog who supports trans-ids (the user who is still in our dni), and she may have a circle of followers who are also trans-id supporters, but for the most part, we have met and interacted with countless endogenic systems who want nothing to do with trans-ids or the radqueer community.

we see how lots of anti endos might make this connection. it’s an incredibly common talking point in anti endo spaces that endogenic systems “just want to have a disorder” and aren’t actually experiencing the plurality that endo systems claim to experience. but the truth is… plurality and multiplicity simply mean being more than one. that’s it. and there are so many diverse and beautiful people out there who experience life as more than one, without having a dissociative disorder, and without being members of the radqueer community.

so to answer your questions:

no, not all endo systems are trans-id supporters. endogenic systems are not a monolith - they are a diverse group of people with a vast range of ideas and beliefs about the world. if you’ve been seeing lots of radqueer endogenic systems, that’s likely because you’ve been looking for them in trans-id or radqueer focused spaces.

no, being endogenic does not inherently make someone a part of the trans-id community. simply having a system that did not form from trauma doesn’t suddenly make someone “transplural.”

we really would encourage you to read our psa on transx/trans-id and radqueers from our pinned post. we’ll link it below:

that post ^ will likely answer your questions in more detail, so we’d really encourage you to read it if you have the time/energy.

honestly, thank you for coming to us with these questions. we are very much firm supporters of endogenic systems on this blog. at the same time, we understand anti endos are people, often scared, hurt, angry, and traumatized. we want to be available to answer any question from anti endos that can be asked from a place of wanting to learn, and facilitate productive conversations and discussions. remember, endo systems are people too, and they’re deserving of kindness and respect just like you and me.

we hope you’re doing well, anon. feel free to reach out to us again if you have any further questions about endogenic systems in the future - we’re happy to help anti endos come to a better understanding about these sorts of things.

#syscourse #anti endo #transx #transid #radqueer

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aquanova99 · 1 year

Text

Haunted (Cato x Reader)

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Part 11

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A/N: I have been writing like a word a day I am struggling to find happiness and motivation in writing so I apologize for any delay. Hope everyone is doing okay out there!

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Y/n’s POV

The subtle shift immediately caused your eyes to spring open. You stayed frozen, hoping he you still needed to actually wake up. That this was all a dream of some kind and you hadn’t actually had the nerve to trap Cato by falling asleep on him.

Yeah, right. Life has never been that kind to you. You slowly unglue yourself from his shoulder and take even longer to face him. Before the apology leaves your lips, Cato interrupts.

“Did you sleep okay?”

The question takes you by surprise. The genuine concern in his voice makes it hard to discern whether or not he is upset at your clear disregard for boundaries. “I’m sorry… I didn’t think I was that tired. You were probably uncomfortable.”

“Actually, I don’t think I’ve slept that good since before the games.”

“Me either.” The realization finally hits you. This is the second time you’ve felt safe enough to let your guard down. You wondered if it was simply because your body knew there was someone else next to you. Part of you wondering, if it only applied to Cato. No. Things were complicated enough as it is. You look up again to find him intently staring and realize he seems to waiting for a reaction.

“I should go meet Katniss.”

You don’t wait for a response and dash up the stairs into your room. You begin regretting not taking one of the rooms on the first floor. You figured you’d be able to hear if anything stormed in. Give you more time to escape. Your brothers had tried to convince you everything was alright, to take the larger room. You almost had another episode when they decided to split the room. You shouldn’t have been such a coward. Now, you realized, you had to walk past almost every room. And that simply, was not an option. You’d probably woken everyone up. Your face felt warm at the thought of anyone seeing you and Cato in the living room. You threw the window open and hoped the cool air would help you figure out how to breathe again. You debated figuring out how to climb down to the first floor before deciding to get through this as quickly as you could.

You change as quickly as you can and do your best to pretend your heart isn’t racing a million miles a minute. The usually long hallway seemed to stretch even farther than normal. You walked and pretended you didn’t notice Cato and Enobaria in the kitchen. Pretended you didn’t hear their voices go silent as your footsteps approached. Pretended you didn’t see Cato and Enobaria stare as you walked by. Pretended as if their gazes didn’t burn through your facade as you hurried to get out of the house.

You had slept enough to know Katniss would be in the woods by now. You tracked her easily enough, and was glad to see Madge there as well. You didn’t want to talk about Cato’s plan you had decided to follow through on. You had debated it since you saw her and Gale, but really the less people knew the better. Than again, you told her about your act for Peeta…No. Even if she figured out it was an act, and she likely would, it was better you kept her out of the loop in case Snow decided to press for answers. More believable.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to sleep in.”

“Sorry? You haven’t slept in in more than a month at this point. I’d say she earned it, wouldn’t you Katniss?”

“She’s right.” Katniss grumbled, “How did you manage to finally sleep?”

Start planting the seeds, Y/n. “I decided to watch some cheesy capitol movies with…one of the victors. And I fell asleep on the couch.”

Katniss stared for a moment but shrugged. Neither of the girls pressed further. Thank God. You knew Katniss caught the pause in your response. She knew if you didn’t say anything it was because it was not meant to be shared with anyone else, even Gale. Damn. If you needed anyone to support your fake relationship it was Gale. He was popular enough at school people would agree with whatever he said, and you could only assume his character extended to the people he worked with in the mines. You knew this was easier said than done. Gale was no fan of showing any kind of performance for the Capitol, and he’d be less likely to support anything with a career. You had to convince Katniss what you were doing was real, or real enough so she could convince him to play nice for the cameras.

After collecting some strawberries with Madge while Katniss shot some wild turkeys it was time to head back. Checking any snares on the way back. A few rabbits to add to the pile. This would be a good haul for Katniss and Gale’s families. Madge split off first, paying Katniss for the strawberries, though she was met with some resistance.

“You picked those yourself Madge.”

“Its for being protection out there. I don’t plan on going out there by myself.” She pressed the money into her hands and walked off before Katniss could argue farther.

“She makes a good point.” You offer

“It feels like I haven’t earned it.”

“Believe me you earned it.” Katniss’s lips twitched ever so slightly, the closest you usually get to a smile. “Going to trade the turkeys?”

She nodded and the two of you headed towards the hob. Stopping to drop the two rabbits off at Hazels, and one at her own home. You let her do her usual trading done, while you eat buy you both some food from Greasy Sae.

“So where are you hiding your mentor?”

“You brought Cato here?”

You smile at the older woman, “I did, he said it was some of the best food he’s ever tasted. He’ll be so upset I didn’t bring him.”

You wink at Sae and she chuckles before going back to her business, Katniss is analyzing your words. Unsure of what to make of everything, you’re sure. She doesn’t ask any other questions and you start to worry about whether she would say anything else. You both eat in silence, only thanking Greasy Sae when you both finish.

“Are you going to see your mom today?”

“Sure.” Thank god, you think. Katniss waits for the two of you to be completely alone in front of your house before she speaks.

“Do I need to know something?”

“What? Why?”

“You brought a career into the hob? They aren’t welcome there.”

“It was just Cato. And they all seemed fine with him there. Relax.”

“Y/n. He’s still a career. People are going to talk.” That’s the point. They need to keep talking. Not only to sell the act you’re about to perform this next year but to start changing how they see the careers. Something besides from vicious killers and nothing more.

“Talk about what? Cato is a friend. I showed him somewhere he was curious about”

“Right. Which victor was with you when you decided to watch a movie?”

“What’s your point, Katniss?”

“You two are just…close.”

“Yeah we’re both responsible for 23 kids not being able to come back home.” You didn’t intend for the words to come out so harshly. You can tell Katniss recoils at the words, “Its not like hunting animals. Nothing like it at all. I still cant stop thinking about…everything. And its just easier to have someone who understands it. Have you and Gale ever talked about it?”

“…No.” And just like that, you know you’ve at least gotten your point across. “I never thought it would be the same.”

“I know. Gale did. And I get the thought process, but the aftermath… anyways. How is he doing with his new job?”

“Okay I guess. I don’t think it would be easy to go down there.”

“Yeah I couldn’t either.”

“Are you going to come hunting on Sunday?”

“Isn’t Sundays a you and Gale thing?”

Her cheeks go red. “It would be fine.”

It would clearly not be fine. “Just this one Sunday? And then I don’t have to again right?”

“It might have gotten better.” She offered

“I don’t want to find out.”

“Then it can just be this one Sunday.”

You smile at her as she stands to go back home. You hesitate to enter your old home but you need to find out exactly what Mallory and Amal talked to them about. You force yourself to take a deep breath and knock on the door. The door flies open, almost taking out your mother as it swings back.

“Finally. You need to tell us exactly what’s going on.”

You told them nothing. The visit started out fine enough. Your brothers had been relatively quiet. Saying the victors had been called to teach you how to do interviews for the victory tour, which was true, and so that you would know what to expect from the capitol, also true. But your brothers had left too much out, your mother knew there was more you were hiding from her. She had no idea about the sponsors. You felt yourself relax. You assured her that was all they were here for. Your father sat staring daggers at you, probably sure you were lying and not as willing as your mother had been to accept your reassurances. Then everything became blurry. Your mother went from curious to irritated at not being able to get it together before they came here. Not showing a good image of a proper victor. She started yelling about falling asleep next to Cato when he had been sick. Started wondering about how I was suddenly fixed. Then the yelling became a little more noticeable when she got in front of your glazed over eyes. You blinked and heard your father complaining about you were conveniently choosing to not be present in important family matters. You glanced at the old clock hanging on the wall, and decided it had been a long enough day and stood up to leave.

You could hear the sounds coming from their mouths, but the noises didn’t register as anything in your brain. You walked numbly back home. Still not quite able to hear anything as you walked back in your house. You half recognized someone calling your name from the kitchen. You kept walking to your room, you saw Cato’s head turn back to look at you as you passed the living room. You continued walking. You were barely at the top of the steps before you felt someone grab your arm. Mallory is trying to say something to you, you think. Your thoughts, while still foggy, begin to react to your senses. You look at your hand for too long. You know you’re blinking too slowly, but your body does not seem to be in your control. The words ‘I’m fine,’ sound foreign coming out of your mouth. The only thing that feels natural is pulling your hand away and entering your room.

You don’t make it to your bed. You collapse a few feet in. At least your body seemed to know to at least make it the soft rug. You allow your body to sink into the floor, slowly, so slowly turning to the side. You bring your knees into your chest, and look straight ahead. Trying to find anything to ground you.

You left the window open…You took deep breaths by the window earlier…Did that work? It feels like ages ago…You force yourself back onto your hands and knees. Then focus on being able to kneel. One leg at a time…Why was this so much work?

You make it to the window eventually. The air offers some relief. You cant keeping blacking out like this. What if you zone out during the victory tour? The thought turns your stomach into knots, but its enough to somewhat snap you out of whatever fog had enveloped you this morning. When you open the door you find Cato sitting on the ground, maybe keeping watch. Guilt runs over you for worrying everyone. For not being able to hide it. He offers a half smile and you feign one back, pointing your head towards the direction of the stairs, silently asking him to follow you. He doesn’t hesitate to stand up and follow. The house feels empty… You open the door to your house and sit on the steps, you need to be outside. Realistically, you need to be out in the woods, but you cant…not yet.

“How bad was it?” You ask when he sits next to you

“Not great…” he admits, “Your brother looked pissed, he left right after you locked yourself in your room. Everyone else is with Haymitch.”

“They’re worried I’ll mess everything up during the tour.”

“Yeah.” You appreciated his honesty, it made it easier to not dance around the subject. He wouldn’t offer up most of his thoughts, but he didn’t hide them when asked. Made it easier to figure out how much you needed to work on.

“Do you think I can do this?”

“Yes.”

“Honestly?”

“Yes. You were scared before your interviews when you started the games, right? When you’re going through it, it’ll be different.”

It has to be, you think. You know he’s right. You weren’t fighting right now. You were what? Surviving? No, more like running, or hiding. Avoiding the scary things. When you couldn’t run, couldn’t hide…would you be able to pull it off? You had to.

“What did I miss today?”

His face twists ever so slightly, “I don’t think today is a good day to talk about it.”

“I cant avoid this forever. I have less than five months.”

“Effie sent tapes, and…cards. They wanted to work on the speeches you’ll give on tour.” You stop breathing. Trying to find words to say. Trying to find any response other than the words that are threatening to come out once again, I cant. But you have to, another voice says. You force your lungs to take another breath, when you are back to as normal as you can get, he continues, “Theres a generic speech Effie has prepared for most of the tributes. But for…some of them you may want to make a separate speech.”

He means Rue and Thresh… and Peeta. You think about some of the other tributes, then realize the rest of Panem only saw you responsible for their deaths. Not the training center, or discussing possible alliances. That was your weight to carry, no one else’s.

“Y/n?”

“Lets go see Haymitch. I have some memorizing to do.” You can tell he wants to protest, maybe suggest waiting one more day. Still, he ends up nodding and when he stands offers to help you up. You take his hand for the split second it takes to stand up, and try not to think about how you wished he would hold it the entirety of the short walk over.

The house is silent when you walk in. You’re still surprised how thoroughly Brutus has gone through this place. They all tentatively meet you at the entryway. Haymitch looks you over for a couple seconds before putting his arm on your shoulder and nods his head, you nod your head a few times to tell him you’re fine. He pats your shoulder and you follow him into his own living area.

“So, I hear you guys have the speech I need to memorize.” You say when you sit down

“We can start tomorrow.” Enobaria says

“No. Time is running out, and we still have to worry about making the people here believe there is something happening between me and Cato. I don’t have anytime to waste. I need to be able to at least do this speech in my sleep.”

Haymitch again stares for a little and then hands you the cards. Overall, it shouldn’t be too difficult. But you know you’re going to have something prepared for District 11 and 12. That could wait. Effie spared no expense of praise for the Capitol. Panem today, Panem tomorrow, Panem forever…ugh. Well, at least this would help convince Snow you wanted to play along with whatever he wanted you to do. To a point, anyway.

“Okay, I’ll go memorize this now. Anything else?”

“We need to get you two out more. Start building up the romance. So maybe we can go out as a group. A tour, maybe somewhere with music…start there.” Cashmere states

Music? In 12? It would have to be in the square, there’s simply not enough time to dance around like the Capitol parties. But maybe in the better part of 12, they sometimes had people bring out flutes, fiddles, stuff like that. No those are for holidays, and we wouldnt have another one of those for a few months. Then there was the hob. But techincally those get togethers are very much against the rules, not like most peacekeepers care too much around here. But that many victors could draw unwanted attention. You would have to find the right time, figure out how to ask without raising suspicion. If you or Haymitch asked, your ruse would go up in flames immediately. You think of Madge, she could know, but again, you cant ask her. Katniss though…she could figure out how to ask the question. Our brothers were out of the question, Amal was the worst liar, and Mallory was terrible at keeping anything from him. Though, like Katniss, he would probably figure it out too.

“Got it,” you say, “I’ll figure out how to get us out in the public eye here. I’ll be back soon.”

“And just where the hell are you going?”

“Brutus, relax.” Enobaria tries

“We’ve already wasted a whole day. This is going to end badly for all of us.”

“I need to figure out how to set up times for us to get seen together, and I cant just go out and ask. It would be obvious. I need to figure out who to ask and how to do it without anyone knowing about our plans. My family cant know anymore. Mallory will figure it out on his own. Later. He needs to believe this as much as Snow does. I’ll be back.”

Whatever courage you had diminished the second you exited the house. The sun was beginning to set, and you needed to get your plan in motion. You walked as fast as you could without attracting any attention. Knocking entirely too loudly.

Katniss opened the door and immediately sits in front of the door closing it as quietly as she can to avoid her family listening in. You both whisper as quietly as you can regardless.

“You know if Peeta had made it out, I wouldn’t have to worry about visiting any sponsors.” Katniss squints her eyes analyzing every word, “I mean I could have played along with the whole romance act. The capitol would never split up a couple by asking favors of them.”

“Interesting.” She nods, fully taking in what you’re telling her.

“Anyway, I really want to take the victors to hear some music. I just don’t know who to ask…”

“Madge maybe. Or she would know how to find out.”

“Yeah. I don’t know her like that though.” She takes a deep breath. Hating what I was asking of her.

“Okay. Hey, I think I am going to her house tomorrow to try and learn piano. You’re probably busy, right?”

“Yeah. I wanted to hear her play again too.” Katniss chuckles at your sarcasm

“I have to make sure Prim eats. I’ll see you in a few days?”

“Sounds good.” You squeeze her hand in a thank you and she nods before heading back inside. Your stomach growls at the reminder that you haven’t eaten since this morning. You trudge back, still ashamed of your inability to handle the tiniest stressors. Your parents yelling wasn’t new, but you had never been unable to defend yourself. It was as if being in the games had made everything feel so much worse, more…intense. Made you weak. And you no longer had the energy to deal with it. Brutus was right. It wasn’t just my life anymore. Cato, Haymitch, and the others…they could all suffer because of me.

At some point your brothers ran up behind you. You must nave been moving slower than you thought.

“Did you eat yet?” You ask them

“No. You?’ Mallory replies

“Nope. Anything you guys in the mood for?”

“Anything works.” Mallory replies, Amal is quiet and you can only imagine the conversations they inserted themselves into at home. “We can make something this time.”

“I don’t mind—” you start

“I want to make something.” Amal interrupts.

“Okay.” After a few moments of silence you start again, “I’m sorry if I freaked you guys out. “

“Its fine, It wasn’t as bad this time.” Amal says, Mallory nudges him probably trying to not worry you again. It goes over his head, “What?”

You chuckle, you wish the older of the two would be as honest as Amal. It helped you remember to not take things so seriously, “Good. I’ll try and get the time down to a few minutes.”

They both smile and they begin to talk about how much they have learned from the other victors. You are glad they are enjoying the company until Mallory mentions wanting to ask Brutus about tips. Just in case he gets reaped he says. You know its likely they get called, its happened before, family members from victors who had become capitol favorites. With all the commotion you caused. You realize its likely your brothers had a high chance of going in. The upcoming quell… your brother wasn’t an idiot. Its been theorized the Capitol has rigged certain reapings, Haymitch has no one left, but you? It may not be the worst idea. And you certainly couldn’t help him. You would worry too much, in fact the conversation turns your stomach to lead. Suddenly, food held no interest to you. Still, you have to be rational. Cato’s advice saved your life, if Mallory is put in this position… Brutus might save his.

“I think Brutus might appreciate the distraction, if he won’t Cashmere will.” You keep your voice even, but your heart feels like its shattering at the thought of having to become a mentor. Playing along with the sponsors may not be such a bad idea. If it keeps Mallory out of the games. That’s what they said Finnick does, right? You would have to talk to Cato again. You knew if you told either sibling they would tell you to not go back on the original plan. Which is probably why he’s is preparing to go in. So many people willing to put themselves in harms way when you could just play along. You’re from 12, after all maybe in a few years time they would all but forget you.

When you enter your home you’re almost overwhelmed by the smells coming from the kitchen. Amal and Mallory run in ready to help. Enobaria greets them, and they continue talking. Most of it goes in one ear and out the other. You smile to greet Enobaria and Cashmere, but when you meet Cato’s eyes you know he can tell somethings up. He points his head toward the living room and you nod and sneak away. He meets you on the couch, bringing some water and a plate of fruit.

“What happened?” He asks immediately. He sits next to you, which was better because you didn’t want anyone to hear.

“Mallory. I’m so stupid, Cato. If we do this…he’s going to get reaped. I know it. I was right before, I volunteered for nothing. If I had just eaten the stupid berries before Peeta could say anything. They’d be safe. I’ve ruined everything… I—”

Cato brings you into him and you decide you don’t care if its for pity or what. You allow him to comfort you. No tears come just a general sense of hopelessness.

“We’ll figure it out,” he breaks okay and fand positions himself to look at you, “We’ll figure it out, okay? I promise.”

You nod. He tries to hand you the glass of water but your hands are shaking. He holds one hand to help you drink and when you finish puts the plate on your lap. You notice he gives you some space, and you find yourself hating it. You manage to force a few pieces of fruit down when the rest of the house comes in.

“There you two are!” Cashmere floats down and hands you another plate, you smile and try and eat as much as you can stomach. Enobaria asks about the upcoming school year, who the younger ones talk to, their favorite things to do. They both answer, and ask their own questions in return. I’m grateful for the distraction and by the end of the night you find yourself smiling, you find out Amal has been picking things up from Prim. Wants to figure out how to be a doctor, Mallory isn’t exactly sure as he thinks he will just work in the mine. Cashmere pushes and he tells them about drawing when he is bored but nothing else really coming to mind. Both of the female victors encourage them, saying that with your help anything is possible now. You encourage them too after a while, you've realized most people accept what they were born into in 12. The bright side of being a victor is you could give them a chance. A real chance. If you don’t get them killed first.

Cato helps Cashmere collect everything. You know he is likely telling her exactly what is concerning you. You hate going back and forth on this. Making things even harder. Everyone eventually disperses, you try to relax with a bath but you decide its not working and just clean up quickly. After pacing around for a bit you decide to go back down. You sit on the living room and turn on the tv, hoping something will put you to sleep.

Why isn’t it working? You’re staring at the screen for over an hour when you hear footsteps coming down. You don’t move, you know who is coming to join you.

“Cant sleep?”

“Nope.” You smile up at him, “Care to join me?”

“You don’t mind?”

“Of course not. I enjoy the company.” You wonder if you’ve been so closed off for him to still think you dislike him. Maybe he actually wants you to leave. He always seems surprised when you seem to want his company at all. Then again, you’ve been going back and forth on the plan you agreed with since the beginning, why wouldn’t he think you don’t want him around.

“What are you watching?” He asks as he sits on the seat adjacent to yours, you try not to let your face show your disappointment

“A movie from the capitol, the acting is pretty bad so its no wonder they believe whatever the tributes sell to them. Its almost done I think, do you want to pick something?” He shakes his head and you flip through until you find another movie you don’t care to watch. You tell yourself its background noise, and after a while your eye lids get heavy.

Images of the cornucopia appear, drops of water dripping onto the makeshift cave you hid in with Peeta, the snares you’d so carefully hidden in the underbrush, the buzz of the tracker jacker nests, Glimmer’s…screams…? Suddenly you’re running, you think you hear her scream for help when the swarm of tracker jackers descend upon you. You’re on the floor and Glimmer’s disfigured body is facing you, her eyes glazed over yet full of hate and blame. Her lips release a raspy voice not belonging to anyone in particular, no it wasn’t her voice… it was multiple voices. They all hiss together in a bone chilling, raspy harmony…

You…

Did…

This…

To ussss…

Your body shoots up and you’re unsure if that last scream was another part of your dream or your own voice. You violently pat your body to check for the stings of the of tracker jackers. Only when you’re sure nothing has happened do you allow yourself to check your surroundings of the room. There is still a dull murmur coming from the tv and you curse yourself for thinking it would be an easy solution to aide in your sleep. Whatever happened last night…it didn’t matter. It was a mistake. The clock is ticking…only a little past one in the morning. You look over at Cato’s chair, he isn’t faring much better. He had tried to get comfortable but his position was anything but. He is mumbling something under his breath, his eyes are squeezed tight and his hands appear to be clutching the hair by his ears, effectively covering them. If it didn’t look like he was about to crush his own skull you might have left him alone. That would be what he would tell you to do, to leave him. Well. You’ve never been the best at following directions.

You put your hand on his. The one closest to you. His body freezes, you wait a few seconds to allow him to figure out where he is and, as delicately as you can, you pull one of his hands away from his. You focus on his breathing, short and shallow. You pat the hand you’re holding when you bring a good enough distance away from his face and go into the kitchen to get him a cup of water. When you come back he still seems somewhat disoriented, aside from his hands he hasn’t moved. You push the water into his hand until he takes it. He blinks slowly, and takes a few sips. You carefully take the cup back and place it on the table, not moving from your spot on the ground.

“Did I wake you?” He asks after a few beats of silence, and you quickly shake your head

“I woke up from a dream of my own actually.” He nods and slumps to the floor next to you, you notice he begins fidgeting with the small beaded bracelet you had gotten him, and wonder if whatever he was dreaming about continues to haunt him. You can only hope he says anything to drown out that disturbing cadence of whispers echoing in your mind.

“Do you want me to keep watch again? I don’t think I want to sleep right now.” He asks quietly

And I do? The thought makes you smile but you just shake your head at his proposal, “I don’t think I can either. How bad is our schedule tomorrow?”

“They probably have more debriefing, the interview tapes have come in.”

“Great.” You scoff, “I guess we have no choice but to try and sleep again.”

Glimmers disfigured face pops back into your head and you shudder, not in any way excited to see who you’ll see when you close your eyes. Cato stands and turns the tv back on. He offers a sad smile and holds his hand out. You take it knowing full well what his plan is. The tv goes back on and you sit next to each other this time, both trying to focus to blur any remaining memories of your nightmares. The next time you succumb to your fatigue the nightmares stay away. And just like that you both silently agree to continue the process. Both finding excuses from then on to come downstairs and turn the stupid tv on. One of you always waking up before the other and sneaking back into your room to get ready before the rest of the house woke up. By Sunday, you felt rested but your neck really hurt. Katniss’s knock woke you up that day.

“Just wondering if you were still coming.” Gale stood a good distance behind her but nodded in your direction which you returned.

“I have to get ready but yeah one second.” When you close the door Cato is already awake, leaning against the wall.

“You think you’re ready?” It was an innocent question that you only wish you knew the answer to. You had met up with Katniss a few more times this week, but today felt ominous. You suddenly felt like everyone else who avoided the woods. Terrified, like you would have to keep watch for the safety of the fence line.

“I guess I’ll find out.”

“Can I come with you?”

“Are you sure?” He gave a singular nod and told you he was going to go get ready. You stood there in shock for a few seconds before rushing to do the same. You debated starting the whole romance thing now but you decide its better to not overfill your plate. You are a bit surprised Gale and Katniss say nothing when Cato comes out with you. You wonder if Katniss has caught on and whether she’s said anything to her favorite hunting partner.

The walk to the meadow is mostly silent until you offer food for everyone to eat before heading in. But that’s silent too. Everyone’s guards are up. Everyone worried about mine and Cato’s reactions. Including myself and Cato.

Gale seems to liven up in the forest, his footstep soundlessly picking up the pace. You all follow closely behind.

“Alright Y/n, easy pickings.” He points towards some wild turkey.

“I don’t know…”

“You’ve got this.” He hands you one of the bow and arrows made by Katniss’s father. You look to her for permission before even placing your hand on it. But the second you touch the weapon your hands start shaking.

“Y/n, if you’re not ready…” Cato starts but Gale interrupts suddenly agitated

“She’ll be fine. The woods are all she knows, right? She cant be scared of the one good thing about this place.” Cato doesn’t respond, you squeeze his arm and he nods. You barely have the strength to draw the arrow back and your muscles are screaming. You’re weaker than you anticipated. You take a deep breath and aim in the general direction of the bird, but the second you release the arrow the only thing you see is Marvel.

The Marvel you see staggers back, blood pouring from his mouth. You hear yourself scream and step back almost falling into a tree. Cato’s hands grab each of your arms, “NO! Please…”

“Its not real. You’re not in the games. You’re safe…” He says in your ear but his voice is shaky. You have to blink a few times before you nod. You hand the bow back to Gale.

“I’m sorry.”

“Its fine. You can try again, it will get better.” He holds out the bow but you step back

“Gale..” Katniss warns him, Cato pushes me behind him as he turns to look at her

“She just needs to get used to it.”

“She said no.” Cato says firmly

“You don’t get it. She belongs out here. You don’t. She needs to be able to come out here, even if she doesn’t hunt anymore. The games aren’t going to ruin that for her.”

They’ve already ruined it, you think. “Its going to take time. She has to see everyone again in a few months. She can decide when she’s ready.”

Gale steps forward, “Y/n, come on. We’re going to keep moving.”

“Back. off.” Cato growls but Gale keeps moving forward and you react before he figures out whats happening. Gale had pointed the bow in Cato’s direction, and its like something takes over him immediately. His entire body shifts into a position you remember in the training center. From Arioch…

“Or what?” He starts

His name comes out as a warning, to no one but yourself, “Cato…”

Time seems to slow down, this time, its you who has to let Cato know hes safe. You rush to get in front of him, grabbing for his hand reaching for the knife hidden away. A stupid decision on your part because you come from the bottom up so you feel the sting before fully realizing the blood dripping down your arm as fail to stop his arm from pulling it out from across his body. This is what he knows. You stare him down with one hand useless, and the other on his arm with the knife. You think you hear one of them pull the arrow back. Idiots. This can only make things worse. His other hand grabs the one holding onto his arm, preventing him from either throwing or hunting them down. The other arm has seeped through your shirt and is bleeding onto the ground ever so slowly, like the ticking of a clock.

Drip

“Put the weapons down!” You yell at everyone. Scaring off any prey they were hoping of catching. Cato looks furious but he blinks at you as if he is trying to figure out what part of his games you’re form.

Drip. Drip.

“Katniss, Gale. Go.”

“Y/n…”

“But—”

“Now!” You can hear the footstep receding. You’re sure they wont be going far so you have to make this quick. His grip on your arm tightens and you struggle not to cry out. But you had to make sure he thinks of little of his games as possible. Right?

Drip…

“You said we were allies. We aren’t done here.” More blinking. When this is over you’ll have to remember to thank him for giving you the answer to this very problem. You avoid saying anything about the actual games. “We’re safe. You’re safe.”

His eyes squeeze shut as he tries to slow his fast and heavy breathing. The hand with the knife going up his head, pressing against it. He forcefully lets go, and you let out a squeak of surprise as you fall onto the ground. Both arms have gone up to his head, trying to silence voices you will never hear. You stay on the ground so as to not disturb him, hoping he comes back to you on his own. Whatever he tries to block out elicits a small groan of his own as he falls on his knees. His hands never leaving the sides of his head as he continues to try and quiet the nightmares I forced him to see by coming out here. You place a shaky hand on his shoulder, and his body stiffens. His head slowly looks up at yours.

“You’re okay.” You whisper, as if speaking loudly would ruin any progress, “Everything's okay.”

His head scans the area and when he looks back you his eyes widen again, his breathing quickening. “Oh my god.”

You don’t have to follow his eyes to know what hes looking at, “I’m fine. It was my fault.”

His hands turn your forearm to face him, really the scratch wasn’t very deep. Long maybe, but really it would heal quickly. The bleeding had mostly stopped anyway. He lifts the t-shirt sleeve up to where your cut is completely exposed. Cinna probably had some kind of scar cream, you weren’t worried about it. Cato shakily grabs the bag you had set down when you had tried to shoot the arrow, fumbling until he finds what hes looking for. A small red box. You realize it’s a first aid kit, he grabs the water bottle you’d brought as well and begins pouring water on your wound. Your arm twitches when the water first contacts you and Cato winces.

“Sorry.” He mumbles not making eye contact

“Its fine Cato, really.”

“Its not.” He says sternly. He places a type of pad on your arm and begins bandaging. You only try to speak when he’s almost finished

“Cato. This wasn’t your fault. I grabbed the knife wrong. This is on me.”

“Y/n. Stop.”

“No. You cant even look at me. This is not your faul—”

“I shouldn’t have come out here. I knew I wasn’t ready.”

“I wasn—”

“You were right. This is a mistake.” He begins to stand up again

“Cato, wait—” You scramble to catch up to him, but before your arm even reaches out he snaps at you

“No Y/n. This should have never happened. I could have killed you! We will stick to public appearances, the rest of the time you need to stay away from me.”

For some reason this infuriates you. “What are you talking about? No. You said we would do this together. You cant back out now.”

He turns around just as furious, “You’ve been backing out almost every day! Why does it matter if I do it??”

A valid point. You weren’t sure why you were fighting so hard for him to not back out but it suddenly sounded unacceptable. Especially not out of guilt, “Beca—”

“I told you I was dangerous! I told you to use the sedative if you needed to. How could you not bring it??? Do you not understand how easily I could have killed you? Do you know what that would have don—Do you think I could live with myself?” He takes a deep breath, trying to lower his voice. It was the loudest you had ever heard him, certainly. Guilt gnawing at you for not realizing how all of this could have undone any progress, how he could have been punished.. all because you couldn’t shoot a damn arrow. Anger also fights for the dominant spot in your mind, you were the one who just de-escalated everything. Your silence seems to soften him and you know it's only because he's once again, sure he's terrified you.

“Look. Just—Make sure you start bringing the sedative. I’m serious. For your own sake—”

He lets out an exasperated sigh of disbelief as you hold your palm out. The sedative pen still capped facing him.

Cato’s POV

She had it this entire time? Why didn’t she use it? Did she forget? How could she forget? You stood there staring as she held her hand out. Unsure of what to do , what to say. You had just screamed at the person who stopped you from hurting anyone. Who had hurt herself in order to give you the chance to stop. Who had somehow managed to distract you enough to realize you were slipping back into your games. You couldn’t face her as you bandaged her arm, and now you felt like you couldn’t stop staring, trying to figure out why she wouldn’t immediately use that on you.

It was her turn to be angry, but instead of saying anything she grabbed your hand and forced the pen into it before heading back home.

You could only stand there for a minute before you chased after her. You caught up relatively soon, “Y/n?”

When she says nothing. You decide to keep your mouth shut. The walk back is tense she lets the door almost close on you and you aren’t surprised to hear the door slam. You’re thankful no one seems to be home. You know her brothers are at her parents, and Enobaria and Cashmere said they wanted to talk to Haymitch about the public appearances they want to start up. You decide to go over there just to let them know you’re both back.

“So, how’d it go?”

“Could’ve gone better.” Is all you say as you walk back out. The rest of your day is you hiding in your room. You go out to make yourself a quick lunch. You’re pretty sure Y/n hasn’t come down so you leave a plate of food at her door and knock before running back down to your room. You pace, read, lay down, repeat. You only come out when Enobaria calls you down to eat again. You ask if Y/n has said anything to her but Enobaria says she was worn out from trying all of that today. You wonder if the cut on her arm came up.

“Cato. Is everything okay?” She crosses her arms as she watches you eat. You take one more bite and toss your fork down. You needed today to be over. You can overthink by yourself.

“Yeah. Everything’s great.” You grab your plate and toss everything in the trash. Something people here probably wouldn’t be very fond of but its beyond you to care right now. You can feel Enobaria looking at you but she doesn’t follow. You go into your room and turn the lights off so hopefully, everyone assumes you’re asleep and leaves you alone. You cant sleep. In fact, you know you wont be able to sleep since the only decent sleep you’ve gotten in over a year has been with y/n when you pretend to watch the tv. Really, its probably your brain telling you that you two are watching each other’s backs, but it doesn’t matter. You doubt you could trust anyone else like that.

You replay today’s events for the millionth time. She must have been terrified. And then on top of everything you go and yell at her. She could have yelled back but the only time she even sounded slightly annoyed was when you said doing the whole romance thing may not be a good idea. Isn’t that what she wanted? Was it the way I said it? You hold the pillow over your head for a few minutes before throwing it to the floor out in annoyance. Just fall asleep. Fall asleep. You tell yourself you deserve any nightmares that come to you but sleep refuses to make an appearance. Probably because you were ridden with guilt and disgust. You decided to go apologize. You went down the hall where Y/n’s room was hidden away, you hear Cashmere and Enobaria talking in the distant kitchen. As you raise your arm to knock, the door swings open.

The two of you are stand once again, motionless. With nothing in her hands, you wonder if she had an idea similar to yours. You open your mouth to start apologizing but she shakes her head and steps out of your way. Allowing for you to enter her room. You tell yourself you’ll apologize properly and then leave her alone. She probably just wants to keep todays events hidden, better to curb any more fears about this plan’s already fragile state. When she quietly closes the door behind you try to speak before she once again cuts off your apology by wrapping her arms around you. You freeze, waiting for your living nightmares to resurface but when they don’t come, you return the embrace. A warmth radiating deep in the cold recesses of your heart.

“I’m sorry.” She says softly

You immediately step back, “No. That’s what I should be saying. I was the one who wanted to go, I was the one who hurt you, I was the one that yelled. I’m…I’m sorry.”

“I shouldn’t have freaked out like that. I knew I wasn’t ready.” You bring her towards you again and try not to notice the smell of her hair, still somewhat damp from a fresh bath.

“Can I check?” She sighs but holds her arm out. You feel relief upon realizing how shallow the cut was. You quickly leave her room for more supplies and sneak back as quietly as possible. You both sit on her bed and you begin. You work carefully. Quietly. She says nothing until you put the healing ointment over the scratch.

“I told you it wasn’t that bad.” She tries to joke but you’re struggling to understand why had to put herself in this position in the first place.

“Why didn’t you use it?”

“I didn’t need to.”

“Y/n…”

“You know when I blew up all of the supplies in the cornucopia and everyone ran back…Arioch was so mad he snapped the boy from three’s neck. It was less than a second and Elias was dead. On the ground. You could have done the same the second I grabbed the knife. You stopped yourself. I didn’t have to do anything.”

“I could have still killed you, before all of that.”

“I guess.”

“You cant guess Y/n.”

“Honestly if you really thought you were in the games and you thought the three of us were working together you would have either gone for the person most dangerous to you, which wasn’t me and would have given me time to use it. Or you would have used me as a bargaining tool, and I still would have been able to use it. So, drop it.” Her voice gets short and you decide to listen, trying to not get into your head again. She sighs and lowers her tone, still grumbling at the thought of it.

“I shouldn’t have hid behind you and I should have told Gale off myself. I would have had a better chance at either grabbing the knife or deescalating the situation.”

You cant help yourself. The thought of her putting the blame on herself is ludicrous and you cant accept it, “I shouldn’t have gone at all.”

“I wanted you to come. I would have asked you to anyway.” She says it so softly you aren’t sure you heard her right. You don’t say anything more as you finish rebandaging her. “I’m tired.”

You tell yourself you promised you would leave her alone so you just nod and say “Okay.”

You shift to stand up and leave but she grabs your wrist, “Can you stay?”

“Okay.” You find yourself unable to say anything else at the moment. You down move from your seat on her bed as she lays down. Your throat suddenly feels very dry. You feel as if you’re breaking some kind of rule from the agreement you both had made, which is ridiculous since you had been accidentally sleeping together when you would watch tv. It was just easier to fall asleep that way. You try going over possible interview questions in your head but absentmindedly fidget with the bracelet which gets her attention. She leans over enough to place her hand on your back causing you to jump.

“You should get some sleep.”

“Are you sure?”

“Do you plan on keeping your knife under the pillows?” You shake your head and she smiles, “Then yeah, as long as your comfortable with it.”

She scoots over and you lay next to her. Neither of you fall asleep right away and you try and see if she wants to talk about what happened before she stepped in front of you. “Can I ask you something?”

She turns to her side to face you, you try and resist the urge to get closer and just turn your head to her direction staying on your back. “What is it?”

“What did you see?”

She goes unnaturally still, you want to tell her to forget about it but she decides to answer, “Marvel.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“Yes. No. I don’t know.” She turns onto her back and looks up as she recounts her time in the games, “You saw the games. I missed.”

“I thought you hit him.”

“I did. But I waited too long and I ended hitting a lung…I was so mad. I was going to watch him suffer for the net. For throwing his spear. He told me to finish. To kill him. When I pulled the knife out I held onto his hand as I plunged my knife into him. I felt his hand go limp in mine. I see his death all the time. Then I run away. In every dream I run, and it doesn’t matter what direction I run I always end up seeing Rue. Struggling to breathe. I didn’t even know she was hit right away.”

“Y/n you couldn’t have saved her.”

“If I hadn’t hesitated I would have. She would have won. I would have made sure of it.” You don’t like what she’s implying but you say nothing, knowing theres more to be said, “Almost everyone else’s death I see like I was watching the games from home. But Marvel and Rue…and Glimmer sometimes. They don’t ever go away. It also sucks because I saw Thresh die the same way everyone else did and I feel bad he doesn't bother me as much.”

She doesn’t turn to face you but you can see tears beginning to form so you reach out and grab her hand. She returns the gesture, intertwining her hand in yours. She finally turns to look at you, but she is too tired to even try and pretend its okay. It isn’t. And it doesn’t get better. But its only fair you tell her your side of things too.

“I see everyone. Whether I killed them or not. I see myself killing them, not being able to stop. Then I hear them. Their families. Calling me a monster. I try to say I cant stop but I can never speak.”

She squeezes your hand. You have others, sometimes its all of the training methods you had in 2. Others are when you are begging to call your family so you can go home, then the voices from the games merge into those too. You turn to face her and she lets go of your hand to turn. She begins to get close. Too close. Shes above you, resting on her elbow you feel her other hand reach up. A finger traces your brow, her thumb gently wiping a tear you weren’t aware had spilled.

“You aren’t a monster. Okay?”

You cant help yourself. You don’t let her let go of your face. You don’t want to let her go at all. So you don’t. With your free arm you bring her as close as you can and hold her. Tired of pretending you weren’t constantly craving her presence. Her touch. You only let go of her hand to put your own in her hair as you pulled her into you. She doesn’t protest. She continues to lean in eventually letting her lips rest on yours ever so gently. Her lips were soft and warm. You could feel them slightly part as she let out a slight gasp. It was as easy as breathing. When you both pull away, you feel like its too soon. You know that you are only entangling yourself into a potentially dangerous situation with the capitol. You had something to lose now. As she stared at you with the same realization you realized you didn’t care. You had something to lose, yes, but you also finally had something to lose. You didn’t want her to worry, you just brought her into you again. Letting her head rest on your chest. Knowing sleep would come easily. You run your hand up and her back and you feel her thumb going back and forth on your chest. Her hand stops moving first, you aren’t sure when your eyes close. All you know is for the first time you feel at peace, nothing gnawing at the back of your mind. No dreading about waking up and doing it all over again.

When you do wake up its anything but peaceful. You both hear the urgent knocking and sit up immediately. You both share a look and you move to the other end of the bed. Pretending you were simply keeping watch.

“Come in.” Y/n says groggily

“What is he doing here? What are you doing here?? What happened to your arm?” Enobaria sounded confused. Furious.

“I still couldn’t sleep. So, I asked him to keep watch and alternate with me. But I fell asleep on my turn.” Y/n, you’ve noticed is only exceptional at lying when it involves someone else. “Sorry. I thought I was getting better?”

“And your arm?” Unfortunately for the two of you, Enobaria was not in way easy to convince. She crossed her arms as asked about Y/n’s injury.

“I got it when we went hunting yesterday. I freaked out and I was fumbling to grab my knife to protect myself. Cato bandaged me up and came to make sure it was healing okay last night. I asked him to stay. I was too embarrassed to say anything so I said I was tired and hid in here all day.”

“And why didn’t you mention this accident?” She starts asking you

You shrugged and tried to seem indifferent, “She asked me not to.”

“Y/n you need to at least get one more person to change shifts, its—” you see that shes struggling to find the words, but theres no real way around it, “its not safe. The flashbacks they don’t always show up in the most convenient times.”

Your head drops, and you can feel Y/n stare. You want to disagree with her but Enobaria is right. One nightmare and you could wake up in a place where Y/n isn’t Y/n at all. Just another person you cant unsee in the games.

“I trust him.”

She says it so easily, you want to believe her. Believe that you would never do anything to her. But you already had. “Y/n its better to be safe than sorry.”

“I trust him. Which is a good thing because at the end of this whole thing we’re going to have to end up together right? So does it matter if we help eachother out?”

Enobaria sighed, “Come on, we have a busy day.”

She leaves the room quickly. No doubt going to talk to Cashmere. You lift your head to look at Y/n, “Don’t.” She says

“Y/n. Shes not wron—”

“I said don’t.”

“I need a favor.”

“Cato…”

You take out the syringe and hold it out. “Please. Just to be safe. For me.”

The last line makes her flinch. She lets out an exasperated sigh and snatches the pen out of your hand. “I’m not going to use it.”

She leaves her room before you have a chance to respond. The words, ‘I know,’ stuck on your lips. You follow behind her and meet up in the kitchen with Enobaria and Cashmere. Enobaria still looks upset but Cashmere has a knowing grin on her face you desperately want to ignore. She slides you and Y/n a plate of food.

“Well before we do anything today, Y/n I suggest you go see your cousin. She came by to check on you already. I’m assuming since yesterday didn’t go so great?” Enobaria states

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Cato? You’re practicing interview questions with Brutus.”

“Why him?” You immediately protest

“Because he is going to pinpoint everything you need to work on and this needs to go perfectly.” There was no point in arguing with either of them. Especially when Enobaria was already on the verge on sending you over to Haymitch’s house.

“What about you guys?”

“Oh Haymitch is going to show us around a bit more.” Cashmere says, you and Y/n share a look. They’re planning something and you two are not to know about it. You both eat in silence until Y/n finishes and is promptly shooed out of the house. You mainly push the food around your plate. Avoiding the stares that felt like were burning holes into your body.

“Its good you two are comfortable with each other. It’s going to make things easier.” Cashmere starts

“Its also going to make things more difficult.” Enobaria grumbled, “This whole charade still might not work. You need to be careful. You both just got out of the games. You still technically need to be supervised.”

“The more believable the more the capitol will want them to get married and pick a district. Regardless of what they feel, they need to make the Capitol obsessed with them in a matter of two weeks for the victory tour. We can worry about the rest later.”

You stood up, not able to take anymore second guesses. You were already doing that yourself. “We just took shifts keeping watch. That’s it.”

You knew they were right but the thought of showing affection toward y/n like that when you still weren’t sure what you felt made you feel…gross. Like you would be forcing her to do things she wasn’t sure of, or didn’t want. This, of course, only worries you about last night. About whether she meant to kiss you, whether you did. Whether she wanted to, or did so out of pity.

You evaluate every action, dissect every movement until Brutus comes in. Working with him is almost unbearable and nearly impossible to get into camera mode. He refuses to make it easy. He starts by quizzing you on everything you and her wrote down, any hesitation would result in breaking character and yelling. You maintain at best a casual conversation, which gave you hope on how things would go with Caesar if it came to that. And you needed it to come to that.

“I still think this is a mistake.”

“I know.”

“You’re sure?”

More than anything, actually. “Yes.”

Brutus rolls his eyes and grunts in what you assume is disgust, but he continues with the questions. Y/n comes back with her brothers behind her and interrupts, “Its my turn, Cato.”

“I don’t have anything to ask you.” He dismisses her but Y/n doesn’t budge

“They asked you to question him because you would be the harshest judge. Its my turn.” She turns to you and asks if you can talk to her brothers, and simply nod and follow them into the kitchen. You hear her tell him he needs to really try so neither of them waste eachother’s time and you’re tempted to hang back and hear how it all plays out.

“So what happened yesterday?”

“Hm?” Mallory’s voice snaps you back and you wonder exactly how much shes told them. You only remember her demand to keep them out of it. “In the woods?”

“Yeah. How bad?”

“Not…great. She was doing okay until she tried to shoot an arrow. Then she remembered her games and was thrown off.”

“So, she did hurt herself trying to get the knife?”

“Yeah she thought she needed to grab it quickly and ended up fumbling it before she actually got a good grip on it.”

“Probably good you were there. She trusts you.” Amal pipes in. Guilt hits you like a train again. Mallory just nods but you’re sure he has more questions about what is happening around here. Around their sister. How were you all supposed to help her? How could he help her? Questions you can never answer. You ask more about the hob. Wondering if you could go there alone. Mallory doesn’t recommend it, most people in twelve even stray from trading there. Y/n comes in silently, sitting next to Amal. It was another obvious clue as to exactly how long she had survived in the woods. Her tread was soundless. Had she decided to simply outlive the others in the arena, you’re sure she could have done so.

“How did the interviews go?”

She shrugged, “I didn’t get much feedback. I’ll ask Enobaria later.”

Everyone decides to cook some food up for the two houses. Its seems like a simple breakfast food dish, but the smell that it creates makes you almost salivate. The others fill in as you all finish up. Mallory even has alcohol ready for Haymitch. He actually makes friendly conversation. They have fully accepted each other as family in one sense or another. You stop paying attention when you begin to eat. The voices all intermingle and you drown most of it out. Or you try to. Usually so many people around ends up making you nervous.

Brutus elbows you, forcing you to refocus. You only return his glare but listen to Cashmere as she calls out your name again, “You okay, Cato?”

“Sorry.” You mumble. “What did you say again?”

“Well, I’ve been tired of being cooped up here so I thought it might be nice to go out. I hear the music is completely different here. I was thinking Friday maybe? It would be nice for all of us to go. What do you think?”

Sounds miserable, but you know she’s beginning your public appearances. “Sure. Would be nice to get out of the house, see a different side to 12.”

Y/n smirks, “Tsk. Well, it wont be all that fancy but it is a fun time.”

“You’ve gone before?” You ask

“A few times. I did have some friends outside of my cousin.”

“Yeah, she used to sneak out to go dancing.” Mallory teases

She rolls her eyes, “I only went out a few times. Enjoying the little times I saw anyone that wasn’t strictly business. Besides, all of my old school mates treat me like I have the plague now. It could be good to try and show I havent changed all that much.”

Except she had, no one contradicts her but even she knows it. It was ridiculous of course, to think she only contained herself to the woods. She wasn’t forced to train for the games. But the thought of her missing her old life springs to your mind again. You listen to her stories. The music that is supposed to be banned plays on random days. No one trusts anyone with association with the capitol here, you wonder how she ended up getting the information. You think of your time at the hob. How everyone seemed to know one another. You wondered if she forced herself to buy things there just to gain their trust back. You thought about Darius and how he had kissed her, and you actively have to work to keep the scowl off of your face. You wondered if some of peacekeepers took shifts so as to not get anyone in any real trouble.

The rest of the day is a blur. Plans, conversations, nothing seems to stick out in your mind. You’re relieved when everyone disperses. And even more so when Y/n whispers for you to go to her whenever you can. You wait until you’re sure everyone has at least gone to their rooms before going to find her. You barely knock, terrified of being ordered to go sleep elsewhere.

“So what happened today?”

“What do you mean?”

“You know what I mean. You seem upset.”

“More worried.”

“Because of what Enobaria said this morning?”

“Mostly. This just…it doesn’t end you know? We’ll have to keep this up forever.”

“I know. Whatever happens we will need to prove to the Capitol we’re together. Could you do that? For that long?”

“Could you?”

“Yes.” You realize you were terrified of any other answer. You decide this cannot keep happening, the same conversation, the same worries making you doubt your plan. You can worry another day. You lay down next to her, ask her to get closer. You decide you wont try anything again. Not until you’re in front of the cameras. Just in case. But keeping eachother company you would allow. If only for your own sanity.

The days go on and Friday is upon you quickly. Y/n’s brothers go on ahead, making sure the music wouldn’t stop because of you and the rest of the victors presence. The group watches as the people dance around you. A few peacekeepers get visibly nervous but slowly let loose as well. Y/n makes small talk with some people around her, offering whatever money she has on her to several of the people who work at the hob. Some stands are still open and you find yourself buying a bracelet similar to yours. You rejoin the group for awhile, Y/n dances with her brothers once, and once with Darius. You try not to let that one bother you, especially since he asks several people to dance with him. She gets all of you to try the faster paced dance movements, Cashmere does exceptionally well. You... do not. You all sit and enjoy other people dancing when Cashmere nods to you. Now or never, you brace yourself as you lean over to whisper in Y/n’s ear.

‘I think its time.’ She smiles and nods and the two of you walk to the farther end of where people are sitting. Close enough plenty of eyes would be on you and far away enough it looks like you both want to speak privately. You take a deep breath, there's no going back now.

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Taglist: @chloe-skywalker @ietss @tomihoeka @chiimiki @akinatrix @inky-sun @themedsaintworkin @tiktoks-aphrodite @fredweasleysgirl16 @callsign-haze @thestrals-and-firewiskey @dreamsarenicer

#hunger games fic #hunger games #catching fire #mockingjay #tbosbas #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #cato hunger games #hunger games cato #cato imagine #cato x reader

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torreshalstead · 2 years

Text

Words like knives

Summary - Strolling through the grocery store on a Saturday with Tim, running into her mother was the last thing she would have expected. And yet there she was.

Notes - Just my little take on Lucy’s moms reaction to finding out about Tim and Lucy. Hope you enjoy! AO3 Link

Lucy couldn’t help the smile tugging on her lips as she strolled through the grocery store arm in arm with Tim. There was something about the mundane domestic tasks that she used to do alone, having a partner to do them with made them so much less mundane and so much more enjoyable. Tim had decided he wanted to cook for them tonight at his place, however as they normally ate at hers, his cupboards were bare meaning that a trip to the store was required. Lucy wasn’t going to complain. Tim was quite a cook so tonight’s meal was sure to be delicious, even if they did have to spend the time getting everything for it.

‘Damn, I forgot… I’ll be right back’, Tim said with a quick peck to her cheek before he headed back down the aisle they had been in previously.

Lucy smiled to herself as she slowly meandered down the current aisle, glancing at the shelves but choosing instead to daydream about the man who was the reason behind her smile.

‘Lucy?’

The recognition of that voice pulled her out of her daydream with a jolt.

‘Mom?’

Her mother was standing in front of her; she was the last person Lucy expected to see today. She hadn’t seen her since she had kicked her out of her apartment when she had become a P2 and had been told her career was worthless. She had spoken to her since then, but could count on one hand how many times that had been, usually just wishing a happy birthday or Mother’s Day via a quick phone call.

‘I didn’t know you shopped here? It’s far from your apartment, unless you’ve moved?’ Vanessa Chen always had a knack for asking the questions that her daughter would have preferred not to answer.

‘Umm, no I haven’t moved. I, umm, just like it here’, Lucy said quickly, hoping her answer would appease her mother and prevent any further questions. However that appeared to be wishful thinking when Vanessa doubled down.

‘But surely the travel costs here mean it’s more expensive to shop here. You must be sensible with your money Lucy. Your chosen career’, her mother had to stop to swallow at this, almost as though she was actively disgusted with her daughter's profession, ‘doesn’t allow much room for promotion or pay rises.’

‘There’s plenty of room for promotion being a police officer’, Lucy said, slightly softer than she normally would when talking to her mother. She was attempting to avoid confrontation and also to end the conversation as quickly as possible before Tim returned.

‘Well if you went back to school, like your father and I suggested, you’d be able to get a much better paying position and be able to move out of that apartment and you could shop here all the time.’ Her mother reached across to smooth out an imaginary crease on Lucy’s jacket and dusted down the sleeve. It was a way her mother continued to assert her power in situations, demonstrating not only her distaste of Lucy’s job but also of her fashion choices and clearly by the tone of the conversation, her living arrangements as well.

‘Mum, we’ve had this conversation before. I am not going back to school’, Lucy huffed whilst her mother brushed off the comment with a wave of her hand.

‘It would be the best thing for you Lucy. Your father and I have always thought so.’

Just as Lucy was in the process of biting her tongue to prevent engaging in a full blown argument in the condiments aisle of the store, the thing she had been dreading happened.

‘Hey babe, I found it.’ Tim had returned from his excursion to source whatever he had forgotten but was glancing at the label when he walked up to Lucy, not noticing who she was talking to until it was too late. ‘Oh, umm, Mrs Chen, lovely to see you’. He said nervously, depositing the items in the basket Lucy was holding and shooting her an apologetic glance. If he hadn't called her babe, they may have been able to brush off the fact that they were shopping together on a Saturday, but unfortunately, that was now impossible.

Vanessa shot a glaring look at Lucy before her gaze returned to Tim, looking him up and down in a disparaging way before her eyes locked firmly on her daughter.

‘So, the way to get promoted in your profession is to sleep with your superiors to get ahead. I thought we taught you better than this Lucy,’ her mother spat at her with disgust. Lucy’s jaw hit the floor. She knew her mother disapproved but never did she think she would accuse Lucy of sleeping her way to the top. She spluttered but was unable to get a word out before Tim stepped in.

‘Apologies ma'am, but I am not Lucy’s superior and I can assure you that any promotion Lucy receives in the future will not be as a result of who she is having a relationship with. Your daughter is an exceptional police officer and deserves every accolade she receives’. Tim said calmly, resting his hand on Lucy’s back in an attempt to calm her and show support.

‘Well you would say that seeing as you’re the one clearly having an affair with her!’ Vanessa said loudly, causing the other occupants of the aisle to look over before quickly making their way to another part of the store.

‘Mom!’ Lucy tried not to stamp her foot like a child but her mother’s reaction was causing her anger to bubble up inside. ‘Tim and I are not having an affair. We are in a loving, committed relationship!’

‘Of course you are’, Vanessa scoffed and turned her attention to Tim now. ‘I always had my suspicions but this just confirms them. You use your position of power to intimidate and coerce young innocent women into thinking they are in love with you. And then you’ll just discard them and move on to the next one!’ Vanessa's voice had returned to a more acceptable level however her tone was laced with venom and anger as she hurled the accusations at Tim. ‘Such a great example of the LAPD you are,’ she let out a harsh laugh as Lucy felt Tim’s palm tighten on her back, ‘taking advantage of those under your command’.

‘Mom, I am not under Tim’s command anymore and he’s not taking advantage of me, nor has he ever taken advantage of anyone. Just because you think all police are evil and corrupt, does not give you the right to talk to my boyfriend or me that way.’ Lucy squared her shoulders and grabbed Tim’s hand off her back, squeezing it tightly. ‘And I have no more to say.’ Tugging Tim behind her, she walked with purpose to the end of the aisle and took a left but before she had a chance to take more than a step or two, Tim had pulled her into a tight hug and she felt herself collapse into him.

‘I’m sorry’, he muttered into her hair. ‘She shouldn’t say things like that to you’.

‘I’m sorry too,’ she said but her words were muffled as she was pressed tightly against his chest. ‘She has no right to speak to you that way’. She pulled back so she could look at him but kept her arms firmly around his back. ‘You know nothing she said about you is true, you’re not taking advantage of me and I know you’d never abuse your position like that’.

Tim nodded, he knew that but he would be lying if he said Vanessa’s words hadn’t touched a nerve. He knew how he felt about Lucy, knew how she felt about him but was aware that to the outside world, if they knew the history, or at least parts of it, it might come across that way. A TO dating his Rookie. But their relationship was nothing like that, and anyone who knew them, knew that. And they were the only people who mattered.

‘I know Luce, I know,’ he said as he bent down to drop a kiss to her forehead, giving her a gentle squeeze before releasing her. ‘I know,’ he repeated, taking her hand in his and continuing onwards to the next aisle, hoping to put what had just occurred in the rear view.

As the pair continued to wander through the store, collecting the various ingredients they would need for that evening’s dinner, the conversation with Lucy’s mom was playing on both of their minds. Neither said anything but continued to maintain contact just a little bit more purposefully than they normally would do in public, nothing that would cause any raised eyebrows but keeping at least one point of connection at any time.

Lucy was reeling. She had become used to her mother’s opinion of her and her profession but had hoped that seeing her daughter in a happy and loving relationship would have brought her mother a sense of joy. But instead, it seemed to make her less approving of Lucy. Her mother had been on at her for years to get a boyfriend and settle down, she had even paid for her to freeze her eggs for god's sake. And here she was happy and with someone she could actually see a future with and her mother had insulted him.

Tim was equally angry but his anger was mixed with sadness. He knew Lucy wanted approval from her mother and that even though she tried to brush off the comments she made, it hurt Lucy when she insulted her career. He was so proud of Lucy and everything she had achieved, he wished her mom could see her for the person and the cop she was, rather than the idealistic version of her daughter that she had created in her brain.

Reaching the check out, Tim spotted Vanessa entering the household cleaning aisle and decided he couldn’t keep it in any longer.

‘I’ll just be a second’, he said as he strolled towards the aisle Vanessa had just walked down, leaving a confused Lucy in his wake.

‘Mrs Chen’, he said loudly as he approached her. Vanessa turned around, disapproval still etched across her face. ‘I don’t need you to like me, or even approve of the relationship I have with your daughter. But I have to tell you that by not accepting Lucy as the person she is now, you’re going to lose any chance of knowing the person she is going to become. She is a great cop, one of the best I’ve ever trained. She’s gone on undercover missions, taken down drug cartels and stopped murderers and has never asked for praise for any of it. She does it because she loves it, helping people, keeping the city safe. It’s who she is. Now I know that being a police officer is not what you had in mind for Lucy, that you want something different for her. And I understand that. Being a cop in LA is not easy, and it’s not always safe. But it’s who she is. And asking her to change, would be asking her to lose a part of herself, and that would crush her.’

‘One day Lucy will become a detective, or a Sergeant, or a Captain, and if you were there to celebrate those achievements with her, it would make them all the more special. But just because you don’t support them, doesn’t mean she is going to achieve them. Some day, I hope, she will become a mother and she will be exceptional at that too. She will want her kids, our kids to get to know their grandparents. But she won’t, if you aren’t proud of the woman that she is. Your words hurt, Mrs Chen. And I have promised to never let anything hurt Lucy, I love her. And that means I can’t let you hurt her either. So please, Mrs Chen. Just think about it.’ Tim didn’t wait for a response before turning on his heel and heading back towards Lucy, leaving a baffled Vanessa standing alone in the middle of the aisle.

He hoped that she had taken his words to heart, he meant every word of them and he didn’t want Lucy to go through anymore pain and upset where her parents were involved.

—————————————————————————

As they unloaded the groceries into the truck, Tim spoke up, ‘I went back to speak to your mom’.

Lucy turned around quickly, ‘you did what? Tim-’

‘I know, but I had to let her know that what she said hurt you and that if she kept it up, she’d lose out on the opportunity to know the incredible woman you are. I’m sorry if I overstepped but I had to’, he looked sincerely at her, trying to gauge her emotions.

‘It’s okay’, she said after a moment, reaching out to hold his hands. ‘I do appreciate you standing up for me’. She smiled.

‘You do?’

Lucy nodded, ‘I can stand up for myself, and I know you know that’, Tim nodded as she smirked. ‘But it can get tiring, so sometimes it’s nice when someone else does for a change.’

‘Well we’re a team, so sometimes we have to share the load’, Tim squeezed her hand as he leaned against the tailgate of his truck, tugging her to stand between his legs.

‘What did you say to her?’ Lucy asked curiously.

‘I told her how incredible you are, and that someday you’ll get a promotion at work and you’d appreciate it if she was there to support you. I said someday you’ll be an amazing mother and would want your kid-’

‘Our kids’, Lucy interrupted him with a smile which Tim returned happily.

‘Our kids, to have a relationship with their grandparents but if she didn’t accept you for who you are then she would miss out on that chance.’ Lucy’s eyes started to glisten with the hint of tears but the smile hadn’t left her face so Tim continued. ‘I told her that I love you and I promised to protect you from anything that hurt you, and if she hurts you that means protecting you from her as well.’

‘Thank you’, Lucy whispered as she pulled herself into his chest and hugged him tightly.

‘I meant every word of it Lucy’, he whispered against her cheek as he pulled her further into his embrace, not caring that they were in the middle of the parking lot, not caring who saw that a tear may have escaped the corner of his eye. Just being present in the moment that the woman he loved was in his arms and he would never have to let her go.

#chenford #the rookie #Tim Bradford #Lucy Chen #lucy x tim #chenford fanfiction #the rookie fanfic #chenford fic #the rookie fic #chenford fanfic #the rookie fanfiction

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rinrinx2 · 2 years

Text

The other woman

Will spend her life alone

Nanami x reader

Warnings: Mentions of sex, Language, Mature themes, Adultery ,Cheating, Angst

All text in this font depicts Wife (Y/N) speaking or from her P.O.V

All text in this font depicts Mistress (Y/N) speaking or from her P.OV

The Other Woman Masterlist

"Thank you" replied as you placed the mug in your hands back down on the kitchen table, looking at the woman who sat across from you.

The woman who confirmed the thing you were both relieved and heartbroken to finally come to light.

"I'm sorry for everything, I thought that -" before she could finish her sentence you spoke again.

"Why did you come to me now and tell me this if you knew I existed all this time?"

You watched as this young faced woman, who had spilled the truth of how she lied in your husband's arms in nothing but her silky skin, knowing how you called out for him and yet she kept it a secret. How you begged him to talk to you for a few measly seconds, while she soaked in his attention knowing his children never received as much as a speck of it.

Why would a woman who seemed to have all the benefits and glory of someone who seemed to be in a happy relationship finally come down from their pedestal to destroy it all, just as she had helped to destroy yours.

You watched as she starred at you for a moment only for her gaze to fall down on her twiddle fingers, her lip slightly quivering and her her mind darting apart as she scraped her brain for the answer.

"I felt the guilt of doing this finally catch up to me" she blurted out, quickly saying ghe sentence with the hope in her eyes that this conversation would soon end.

You looked at her, watching as a soft smile decorated her face. Trying her best to look sympathetic, as she looked at you trying to mimic the emotions of a devastated woman. And as much as you tried to look into your heart and see the sorrow that lied in it for her you could not.

"Please be honest with me"

"I am, I was-" but once again you had cut of the young woman before she could let another excuse out.

"No be honest as to why you decided to tell me now. I know those nights you saw his phone light up with me name, how the guilt didn't drive you tell me soon is beyond me. So tell me the truth why a young woman like you would destroy a relationship with a man who both physically met her needs as well as financially keep her afloat?"

The young woman's head dropped down, as she starred at her hands again. Feeling as her lashline became wetter and wetter as she pulled at her mind to come to an answer, a suitable answer that would save her from the looking even worst than she already did.

But as her eyes lingered on your figure, she saw how you looked, from the emotionless face that probably held back the feelings of sleepless nights and heartbroken moments to the room the two of you sat in; the apartment in Tokyo you rented to probably see your husband more frequently she thought.

These sights alone drove her mind to scream at her urging her to finally come clean as the weight of what she had done was finally weighting down on her.

"He said he wouldn't leave you for me" she muttered out not even having the courage to meet your eyes as she answered you.

You let out a soft sigh, sounding more of relief than anything else.

"Thank you" was all you said as the defening silence surrounded the two of you.

The silence continued further till the young woman across from you finally looked up towards you asking a simple question.

"So am I forgiven?"

The question sinked into your mind 'Am I forgiven', like you were some priest that if she confessed that she would walk away a sinless woman. But the more you thought about the question the more imagery of how she not only stole away your husband but your sons father crossed your mind.

You knew a young women were easily manipulated, that's how you got into this marriage in the first place; but you knew well enough that a woman with any care for their cheating partners wife would of stopped it after realizing what they were destroying instead of letting it continue for as long as she had.

"No, I can't forgive you. I'm sorry"

The other woman looked at you with eyes filled with worry and hurt, as her please to be forgiven were rejected and just as she was about to beg out again you stopped her just as you had done before.

"Thank you"

You weren't thanking her for apology rather the truth that she had spilled.

Standing up from the kitchen table before the young woman could say anything further, before she begged and pleaded for her grace, saving her dignity and your time by your actions.

You listened as you walked away, as the chair she sat dragged acrossed the kitchen floor as she stood up from her chair. Listening as she grabbed her bag walking towards the door, closing it as she finally walked through the door.

Nanami hated mornings like this. Morning hang overs were the worst for him, he hated how his head felt, he hated the malt liquor taste in his mouth and he hated the icky feeling that lathered his skin as he felt it brush against the sheets.

Nanami couldn't remember much from last night, but the few memories that did come to his mind was of his young lover storming through the door.

'She'll be back soon, they always come back' Nanami thought as he rolled over to the other side of his bed.

Nanami lied on his stomach, his head covered by a cushion as he tried his best to drown the pounding in his head. He pressed the pillow deeper into his head praying the pain would soon fade but it remained.

Nanami's mind felt as if it was being scratched with sharp claws. The feeling driving him insane till he remembered a tune. Humming it to himself, feeling as the pain in his slowly started to lessen the more he hummed it.

Nanami continued humming it till the pain in his head felt completely gone. His mind now wondering as to where he had remembered this tune. His mind now being plagued to search far and wide as to where he heard the tune and why it helped his hangover so much.

Just as Nanami was on the verge giving up trying to remember the memory of it came pushing to the front of his mind.

"(Y/N) use to sing it to me" Nanami spoke aloud as he recalled how his wife would hum the tune to him in the early hours of the morning as she'd comb through his hair in bed as he recovered from his previous night of drinking.

How such a simple tune held so much power over his mind that it was able to subdue his hangover.

Nanami's mind dwelled further on you, remembering how you always looked after him no matter what, how you tended to his every beck and call even when you were pregnant.

The thought alone making him smile.

And suddenly a small spark of guilt seeped into Nanami as he remembered exactly where he was laying and who he most commonly shared the bed with. He tried his best to forgot everything his mind made him think, trying to only focus on the silence of the room he lied in.

But with every second that passed his mind beat him up for every betrayal against you that he had done, a common occurrence that happened in Nanami's mind that he would push down.

Nanami wasn't a fool, he knew his actions had consequences, and one of them was the impending guilt that would come to the forefront of his mind in these quiet moments that most would find peace in but not him; Nanami's mind would become plagued with the memories of you and his sons. How you looked on your wedding day, how you nervously told him you were pregnant only for him to reassure which caused you to smile brightly with hope, how your sons played in the park with him as he chased after them.

It was moments like this that Nanami wished he wasn't the type of man he was. How he would pray to redo the past to set things right, but the moment he wished he could fix things his mind made him remember just how far that possibility was causing him to realize that he was to far gone from redemption making him only further do more actions he knew he would regret.

"Why the fuck am I like this?" Nanami asked aloud as he now moved himself to lie on his back, starring at the white ceiling as more images of his wife face flashed before his eyes.

Images of you smiling, laughing, as you enjoyed yourself. Soon being replaced of images of you splayed out on bed, with you beneath him, your pleasured face as he'd fuck you slowly knowing how easily you fall apart. But soon the images became filled with your teary eyes, those same eyes he witnesses a few days ago as he came barging into your apartment accusing you of sleeping with Satoru Gojo.

Nanami's mind soon showed fake images of how you'd look with Gojo, how his hand would look wrapping around your waist as the two of you snuggled on his massive couch watching as your children played.

But before Nanami could think any further on it the loud ringing of his alarm went of signalling that he had to get ready for work.

The work day was long and boring, the same issues he had to correct over and over as he watched the clock tick by.

Nanami checked his watch one final time before leaving his office.

'The meeting is starting now' he thought as he walked to the meeting room, paperwork in hand as he readied himself to explain the financial issues the company was experiencing.

As Nanami entered the room he was greeted by by the same people and one new face, the face of Satoru Gojo.

As he sat half awake on the chair, waiting for the meeting to begin. When the meeting began Nanami could barely concentrate on what anyone was saying, as his gaze became fixed on the nonchalant white-haired man that barely looked up at any charts as the others spoke.

When the meeting came to an end Nanami patiently waited till everyone left the room before he approached Gojo who still lounged about on the chair he sat on.

"What do you think you're doing?" Nanami asked sternly as he stood infront of Gojo.

"I'm sitting on a chair Nanamin" Gojo replied as he titled his head slightly forward so that his eyes peaked at Nanami.

"I meant with my wife?”

"Why do you care, aren't you busy with some other woman" Gojo replied as he stood up now, now slightly towering over the blonde haired man.

"You telling me you waited till the end of this meeting to storm over here and question me about what I do with your wife" Gojo laughed out as he made Nanami realize the absurdity of his actions.

"Just fucking tell me?"

"You really wanna know, well I've been doing everything you haven't. I've been spending time with her getting to know her, learn about her interests her hobbies as well as spend time with the boys. I've been playing the part you've neglected and you know what I enjoy it"

Nanami looked at Gojo, not a word coming out of his mouth as he processed everything Gojo said. Gojo starred back at Nanami, watching as his words rang through Nanami's head watching as he tried to comprehend the truth.

Before Nanami could come up with some excuse as to why be remained absent, Gojo spoke.

"You know Nanami, my father cheated on my mother. I watched my mother cry over a man who didn't deserve the life he had and I'll be damned if you make such a wonderful woman like (Y/N) go through the same thing"

"Don't fucking tell me this shit I already know it" Nanami spoke out agitatedly as Gojo's words began to affect him.

"Well if you know this shit, then why the fuck do you continue to cheat on her?"

Gojo watched as his questioned blindsided Nanami, he watched as Nanami scrambled his brain trying to come up with an answer, such a simple question that he lacked the answer to.

"I'll tell you why Nanami, because you're a piece of shit." Gojo said, picking up his briefcase as he walked out of the meeting room, leaving Nanami dumbfounded by his question.

Nanami stood still in the meeting room as Gojo's words washed over him, it wasn't the first time he had felt overwhelmed by this guilt of cheating but he was trying his best to look past it blaming it on his prior life events, blaming it on his father.

Nanami would always hide behind his father's infidelity on his mother claiming that was the reason why he turned out the way he did.

But now after Gojo had spoken, recalling a similar childhood to his, he couldn't believe on how different Gojo had turned out.

Gojo watched his mothers suffering and refused to have any other woman go through that, while Nanami watched the ego of his father as he brought new women into his parents home while his mother worked.

But now Nanami could no longer use his past as a reason for his ways, as Gojo was a prime example of how good can come from the bad. So, Nanami's brain worked away trying to find a new reason, but everytime he thought he found a new reason it quickly withered away leaving him to the harsh truth that he’s the problem of his own wife's grief. The woman he swore to look after he neglected, and the guilt was seeping into him once again with nowhere for Nanami to hide.

Takato sat outside as he and Tatsu ate away at some snack he couldn't remember the name. Tatsu had suggested that the two of them stop at a convenience store on the way from spending the day with Fushiguro and Itadori.

The two brothers had become close to the Gojo siblings, nearly spending every day after school at their apartment, eating and playing games as they wasted their time away. Tatsu becoming closer with Fushiguro and Takato bonding with Itadori and Tsumiki.

Takato and Tatsu finally felt content in their life, their mother was seeing a man they deemed to be like a father to them, it felt as if they had a family for the first time in a long time. The two teenage boys hoped that their mother would continue to see Gojo for both their own selfish reasons and so that she would finally be happy, they knew of the struggles their father caused and tried their best to remain happy for their mother no matter how disappointed their father made them. From forgotten soccer games to not showing up for school ceremonies and shows, the Nanami boys felt nothing but resentment towards the man who they were suppose to call their father.

As Takato reached for another piece of candy he looked up slightly to see the same model car as his father, with the exact same tint too. The resemblance was uncanny but Takato took it as coincidence.

But as soon as Takato saw the car door open he realized that it wasn't coincidence but rather that it was his father's car. Tatsu watched as their father walked over towards them, a bouqet of flowers in his hand as he approached the boys.

"Hey boys" Nanami said as he looked down at the two of them.

Neither Tatsu nor Takato spared their father a glance as they continued eating at the bag infront of them.

"You're not going to greet?"

But the boys continued in the same manner in which they were, as the ignored their father.

"Don't do this to your father"

Tatsu laughed as he heard Nanami speak.

"You're magically our father now" Tatsu said finally looking up at the older man.

"I've always been your father"

"No you haven't, you act like our father when it suits you" Takato added, not even bothering to look up.

"Boys please let's not have this argument now" Nanami said as he bend down so that he was now face to face with his sons.

"When would you like to have this argument Dad" Tatsu said bitterly as he dead starred into Nanami's eyes.

"I'm not here to pick fights. I feel bad for arguing with your mother the other day and I wanted to know if she's home"

Tatsu and Takato gave each other an amusing look before a fit of giggles broke out between the two boys, after hearing their father speak.

"Why you feeling bad now, not like you ever did before" Takato said as he tried to catch his breath through his laughs.

"By the way Moms favorite flowers are not roses, they're snap dragons" Takato added as he pointed to the red roses which only made the two laugh harder.

"Stop it now! I'm not here to be made a fool I just want to apologize to your mother" Nanami said as he stood to his full height once again.

"We'll tell mom you're sorry" Tatsu said as he looked over Nanami's figure once more before standing up himself with Takato following his actions.

"I think it's best if I see your mother in person" Nanami said sizing himself up trying his best to show dominance over his sons, but Nanami had not realized how bold his sons had gotten. How they had grown into men of similar stature to him.

"Nanami, you can stop playing at these angles. Some woman came to see mom and she's settling for divorce papers" Tatsu said as he nudged Takato singalling him that the they would be leaving now.

Walking away not sparring Nanami another glance as they left their father where he stood. Unaware of the shocked and heartbroken expression on his face.

"Divorce" Nanami muttered under his breath.

Nanami quickly got back into his car, only taking a minute to let the shock of what he had overcome him, till his emotions resettled. The moment he was feeling back to himself he was filled with a deep rage, a rage that required him to see a certain someone. Nanami switched on his car as he revved the engine, and without a minute to waste he zoomed through the busy streets of Tokyo in the hunt for one person, knowing exactly where they would be hiding.

When he arrived at his location he swiftly got out of his car, quickly walking through the rundown apartment building till he stood infront of a familiar door, a door that was a memory in his past, a door that unlocked the thing he desired the most.

Nanami frantically knocked on the door, until it came swinging open.

"Nanami?"

Nanami looked at her, her soft locks, full lips, wide eyes, the soft curves of her body that he would paw at during love making. The face of the woman he made to love him stood before him but instead of that insatiable lust he felt it was now filled with anger.

"What the fuck did you do?" Nanami asked as he stood at the door way blocking his mistress from closing the door on him.

"I don't know what you're talking about?"

"Don't fucking play dumb with me now, you're not a good actress"

"I really don't know what you're talking about"she said refusing to admit to anything.

"I know you went to my wife, telling her about us" Nanami said as he starred into his mistresses soul.

"I had to do it, you're married"

"Now you care that I'm married, you didn't care any other time. You just told her because you won't end up being Mrs Nanami, but guess what sweety you're just as bad as me. It takes two to tango"

"Fuck you" She said with venom as he tried her best to close the door but Nanami was to quick blocking the door from closing on him.

"Don't play like this now. Don't you think I miss you" he said as his free hand touched her cheek, and the more she tried resist leaning into his touch the more she wanted to.

"Don't you think I want you to be mine forever"

"Become Mrs Nanami, you'll be the one I see in the mornings and evenings. We'll have children and we can look after them" Nanami said as she finally budged leaning into his touch as star filled eyes starred into his.

"You really mean it?"

"Aren't I a great actress sweety"

"Fuck you Nanami" she said pulling back from his touch as she pushed him away closing the door.

"The fuck you think you can just ruin my life like this. You're to blame for this, you still decided to fuck me knowing I have a wife and kids, you're monster just like me" Nanami yelled at the door hoping she would hear his harsh words.

But the more Nanami yelled the more he realized that he would be met with silence.

Nanami left that run down apartment complex, deciding that he was going to attempt his last option and choice as he headed back to the place he was barely at.

Standing now infront of a door he barely saw, as he knocked away with his left hand as his right clung to a wilting bouqet.

Nanami patiently waited for you to come to the door, until he heard the creaking as it opened.

"(Y/N)" Nanami said as he looked at you, with your tired and worn out face.

"I wanted to apologize for the last time I was here for shouting and accusing you of sleeping with Satoru. That was very out of line, I know you well enough not to do that" Nanami said as he placed the flowers infront of you hoping that you'd reach out and grab them, but Nanami watched as you simply starred back at him emotionless without an expression on your face.

"Here" you said as you leaned towards the counting grabbing something as you now showed him a stack of papers.

"What are these?" Nanami asked in a soft voice.

"Divorce papers"

"(Y/N), please don't we have kids"

"I don't want to hear it Nanami, she came around and told me everything. You can't lie your way out of this one" you said pushing the papers into Nanami's hands causing him to drop the bouqet.

"Come on everyone makes mistakes, I'm only human. You've also made mistakes-" but before Nanami could speak any further you stopped him.

"Yes I'm made mistakes but I've never cheated on you the only mistake I made was marrying you and letting you treat me the way you did"

"Don't do this to us, what about the boys?" Nanami said trying to save the last of his marriage.

"They're okay with this decision in fact they're quite happy about it. You've been a lousy father, and you're right about Gojo. I have been seeing him not in the same way your saw that woman, but I've been seeing him. We've been going to all the places I asked you to take me to in Tokyo and he spends time with the boys and his kids spend time with the boys as well"

"What I'm trying to get at Nanami is that you've been replaced just as you've replaced me and the boys"

Nanami looked at you with a hurt expression as he listened to your words. He had not only lost his mistress but his wife. The man who was at the top was now at rock bottom.

"I'm sorry (Y/N), I can change. I'll work on me. I want to do this with you" Nanami begged.

"Goodbye Nanami" you said as you began to close the door.

"No (Y/N), don't fucking do this. Don't fucking close that door on me"

"(Y/N)!" Nanami yelled as yet another door came closing in his face.

Nanami didn't bother yelling out for you, he left with the small amount of dignity he had left. Nanami walked to his car with the bitter taste of defeat in his mouth.

Finally reaching his car, he sat inside it contemplating on what to do next.

But the more he thought about the more images of his father came rushing to his mind, and the once glorious image of his father was now tainted with hate.

Nanami hated how his father made him out to be and he hated how he had so easily become like his father. If only his father, had been a loyal man then maybe he could be one too, but now Nanami had no one, no mistress, no kids and no wife his was all alone.

Nanami was alone.

Taglist: @05-redacted @missthatgirl @zeniiin @eddie-swhore @watyousayin @denypipa @venicefuckingbitch @cloudsinthecosmos @kinkykuhh

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